#you guys have helped me through so much. and I am grateful for each and every one of you. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

unbearableblog · 4 months

Text

My Christmas gift for you.

Messages (Carmen Berzatto x reader)

Summary Carmy’s actions towards the reader might eventually lead to consequences.

Word count ~2,8k

Warnings 18+, No use of Y/N (there is rarely a name but it’s just for aesthetics, you are welcome to insert your own name), action set in S2 so possible spoilers, cursing, angst, relationship problems, possible mentions of smut

A/N God this took a lot from me! Legit flew to Copenhagen haha. I am very grateful to each and every one of you who read, liked, commented or reposted and supported this! I would never think that this would happen. I hope you’re not going to crucify me over the plot. Thank you so much for waiting!

Merry Christmas everyone!

Chapter 1 (the one with departure, Denmark, and desserts)

Things were a little different at the Beef lately.

“Richie, shut the fuck up!”

“You first, child!”

Well, maybe not so different. But they certainly were different with you. Amongst the neverending screaming, cursing, and fighting, you somehow survived getting shot at, losing the power, dealing with the IRS, and everything else that constantly went wrong with this cursed place. The amount of experience you had in this short amount of time has topped anything you've done before. You couldn't catch your breath. But that's what you do for the ones you love, right?

It's been some time since you started helping Carmen with the Beef - serving the customers on a particularly busy day, calming down Carmen, sometimes giving Richie a pep talk when he needed to keep his shit together. But mostly you just chatted with Sydney and sat in the kitchen, doing your college assignments while watching Carmen work. You could never get tired of it - he looked so professional and smart. It was his element. Well, when everything was going well.

The entire time, you were there, talking to Carmen as he prepped for the day, giving him a smile and getting one back, just watching him go on about his day and move so swiftly like a well-oiled machine. Seeing him in an apron drove you wild. You'd have to stop yourself from going up to him and touching his god-given curls or rubbing his back through his white T-shirt (but more often you failed to do so). Most of the days you patiently waited to go home and show him everything that was on your mind all day.

One time he caught you staring, mind far away from the Beef. His voice brought you back.

“Are you thinking about my fingers again?” He said while putting his arms at his hips, almost offended.

You bit your lip and looked at him with a guilty smile.

His hand went up to brush through his curls.

“You’re not gonna get any work done if you keep thinking about that. And with the way you look at me, can say the same thing about myself.”

You whine and playfully pout, not wanting to keep studying.

“Come on, princess,” he comes closer to you and whispers in your ear so that his whole voice goes through your body and his lips brush your ear “And when we get home you can tell me all about it while you sit on my ‘pretty’ cock”

Sometimes he would explain what he was doing or why things weren't going the way they were supposed to, sometimes you would share something you found fascinating in your assignment. He would always listen, even if he didn't fully understand, but you knew he was trying to. It made you feel so special - you got the whole attention of this hot 3 Michelin star chef, covered in tattoos and buff, but he looked at you with such care and softness. His muscular arms touched and wrapped around you with strong tenderness and appreciation. Sometimes you saw the same attention to the details in the food he was making - he really cared.

Everything changed after the Beef closed down.

Carmen was a little taken aback when you told him you were going to Copenhagen with Marcus. You were at the restaurant, like any other day, figuring out a thousand things that were wrong before the opening, when you heard Denmark being mentioned amongst the guys.

“Someone's going to Denmark?” you asked, turning around on your chair.

“Marcus is,” Carmen brushed off, and continued having his conversation with him.

“Wait, to Copenhagen? Why?” you felt ignored.

“Uhh, to learn everything about desserts,” Marcus answered. Carmen didn't even look in your direction.

“When? Why didn't you tell me?” you sounded excited because you were, but your heart felt like it was placed into an iron cage. Carmen knew how much that city meant to you, and to not even mention that your friend was going there felt neglectful. But maybe you were overreacting - he was probably busy, he doesn't have to tell you everything, and it surely wasn't for long anyway.

Berzatto shrugged his shoulders. “Why? It's just for some time.”

“I was actually thinking about going there too. I haven't seen my sister in a while. Maybe we could fly together? I know everything there,” you were ready to help Marcus as a bonus. You really appreciated him as a friend, and returning the favor for all those delicious pastries he made at your request would be terrific. You could also use a fucking break from Chiberia.

“For real? That would be awesome!” Marcus exclaimed with his arms, his smile releasing your heart from its prison.

“Uhh… yeah-yeah, sure, I guess,” Carmen squinted his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “I- uhhh, have to go out for a minute. Umm,” he swallowed “-meet that rep for me, yeah?”

An entire work shift of flying has gone by the time you started seeing the bronze-roofed houses sprinkled like decorations on a Red Velvet cake. You made Marcus promise you not to judge the country by its airport, as it usually was surprisingly dirty. Nevertheless, there were hints of what life there was like - a burst of energy, culture, and flavour. You walked what seemed like forever through the endless white halls with blue sections, wondering how many times Carmen had been here and whether you ever crossed paths. You kind of wished he was there. Your excitement rubbed off on your friend - Marcus was beaming with happiness, anticipating your time there. He knew it was going to be life-changing.

The moment you went outside felt like you could breathe again. The weight of The Beef, Carmen, stress, problems problems problems dropped off, was left behind, and never got on the plane. Your chest wasn't encircled by snakes that only pushed until you suffocated. Your mind was clear.

You helped Marcus settle in his awesome boat, and after reading the owner's note to "keep the water in Coco's bowl", searched for the cat for like 20 minutes. Unfortunately, your efforts were fruitless.

Marcus only let you go back alone because you assured him of your safety (you gave him a speech about how it wasn't like Chicago) and experience. Still, he made you text him when you got to your sister's. The two of you were always trying to make your relationship work, but the distance didn't make it easy. That did not mean that you were going to give up - you were used to making a lot of effort for the people you love. She was ecstatic and grateful to see her little sister. The rest of the evening was spent eating, sharing your lives, and talking about your mysterious boyfriend.

“I don’t know, he’s just so… distant. He always leaves somewhere, does god knows what when he knows we don’t have much time! Sometimes it feels like I care about the restaurant more than him. Which is so weird because he was so into it before! He planned the whole thing! And I am so fucking stressed from it all! I never even wanted to work in a restaurant but I was there for him!” you expressed your pain very loudly.

“Have you thought of… breaking up with him?”

You exhale and almost completely give up mentally.

“I don’t know… it feels like we don’t have much of a relationship at all anymore. We don’t go out, all the time is spent on the opening. I swear sometimes I’m there just for our friends and his sister, I can’t just leave them without help while he’s wandering somewhere”.

You couldn’t sleep because being in bed without Carmy by your side felt plain wrong. You were also jetlagged which meant that the peaceful world of Morpheus was avoiding you like a plague. The same thing happened to Marcus, so you both were just texting about what you were doing.

“idk, i gave up and went to get some tea” you typed, a warm mug in your hand as you cozied up on the couch with a blanket.

“yeah, same shit here. bout time to get ready anyway”

Your whole house was asleep, and probably would be so for a while. It was too dark to go out for your liking. Boredom kind of crept in.

“what is it exactly u're gonna do there?”

“uhhh i wish i knew. make some things from the pics i showed u i guess”

“can i watch?” Was it too much of a request? Who even knows if you'll be allowed there?

“yeah i think so. i'd love to not have to do this alone”

You smile, finish your tea, and get up to find some clothes.

You finally reached the place and were met by a tall man in an apron. He introduced himself as Luca, and you heard a very sultry voice softened by an accent. You wondered where he was from.

“I'm Chef Marcus. That's Liv. Is it cool if she just hangs around and watches me?”

“Hi,” you smile at him.

“Hello. You could also join in. What kind of a chef are you?”

“Oh I'm not, I'm -”

“Well, with the amount of time Liv spends in our kitchen listening to every word of the CDC, I'd say she might as well be a chef by now,” Marcus only half-jokes. You give him a look anyway.

Luca prepared everything and soon he and Marcus were working. You were sitting on the other side of the table, able to see everything. Only now you were starting to notice how strong he was, you have to be, you thought, if you stay on your feet all day. His arms were also covered in tattoos that didn't seem to make sense, like Carmy's.

“So who are you?” Luca's question doesn't sound rude, just curious.

“I'm his boss' girlfriend,” you nod as you speak.

“Wow,” he seems to be thinking something, but maybe it's just him being focused on putting the peanuts on dessert, “What are you doing here?”

“Uhh, visiting my sister? It was time and I thought Marcus here could use someone to show him around. As for here, I was really jetlagged and bored.”

Luca was amazing. The way he coached Marcus even when he made mistakes was consistently calm, stern, and leading. Not once did any of you feel berated or hear his voice go louder, all you knew was to just try again. His entire presence excreted stability and equilibrium.

After an extensive lesson, it was Marcus' turn to try. All of you leaned closer to the dessert in hopes of seeing more. You held your breath as you watched Marcus carefully place a tiny piece in the clockwise direction of the dessert when in the blurred background of your vision you felt something change. Instinctively, you looked up from the dish, and your eyes met the gaze of your friend's teacher. There he was, almost lying on the table, looking at you. As if he wasn't busy right now. As if the dessert didn't matter. Hypnotized. “Got it!” Marcus smiled and stood straight up. “Great job, chef,” Luca switched back to Marcus.

Suddenly a firework of spice embraced you in its scent, making your head go round from the all-encompassing desire to taste it.

“Oh my god, are those cinnamon buns?” you had to put your hands on the counter to keep yourself up. “Yeah,” Luca stood straight. “You like them?” “They smell amazing!” you could swear you saw a quick prideful smile brush Luca's lips.

“They are her favourite. And she's very specific about'em too,” Marcus threw you under the bus.

Luca seems interested. “In what way?”

“I'm not, okay? I just believe that cinnamon buns should have a lot of sugar and cinnamon, or else they're just buns. There was this place near the park, and the pastry they sold was like 90% dough. I didn't like that at all” you defend yourself, and Marcus scoffs, having heard you rant about it many times at The Beef.

“Abomination,” Luca shakes his head.

“Exactly! I love it when there is so much sugar that it's oozing out, that's how it'd supposed to be.”

Your lighthearted banter somehow led to Luca opening up and talking about his life and experience. He also shared a couple of stories about determination, his acceptance of not being the best, and some of his failures. Soon all of you were joking around and laughing at your pasts. You felt your heart warm up to him and thought that leaving the house was a good idea.

Marcus stepped outside to check on his mom. He called her sitter as often as he could, and every time you hoped that everything would be alright. Luca was silently doing his work, kneading some dough. It was a demanding process, but so meditative, and you couldn't help but float away watching his big hands grab and squeeze the smooth dough, throwing it back onto the table occasionally, his long fingers dug into it, leaving an impression. “So where is he now?” you ask. “Who?” “The chef who was better than you. Where is he now?” you wondered if Carmen knew him or told you about him. “Well, you tell me. Apparently, opening up a new restaurant,” the chef said, as he threw a careless nod in your direction. Huh? Your heart drops. What? You let out a nervous scoff. “You're saying it was… Carmen??” Your question was met with a simple nod as he kept working. “Carmen Berzatto, the chef that was better than you at everything?” you almost spell out. Luca just takes his eyes off the dough and watches your reaction. He is also confused. “God, he really is the best?” the question sounds more like an exhale. “People keep saying it, but I guess I didn't realize” you sit down, defeated, and stare off. Your mind keeps pacing - what happened to Carmen? How did he go from being the best to being a yelling mess of chaos? Why is someone who looked up to him so calm and collected but still successful? Why can't he be like that? “You sound surprised. What, he doesn't feel like it?” He asks while kneading the dough, this time slower and a little softer. You look at him, then shake your head away and look down. You want to tell him everything about the way Carmen treats you, and how different that is from what your beginning used to be, how he doesn't appreciate you even though you spent so much time in and on The Beef, and how unfair that is, and have his deep voice tell you the answer, but you can't. That would be weird. Luca notices your hesitation. “You know, when we worked together, he would often be… difficult,” there is a pause after he says it because he is reading your face, trying to understand if he's walking on thin ice. He isn't, so he continues. “Partly why I didn't become better than him was because he wouldn't let me.” “Yeah, he shared something like that.” His brows went a little higher, and his grip on the dough hardened and stayed there. “My point is, being with a person like that can't be easy. Man, we only worked together and I already wanted to smother him, can't imagine being in a bloody relationship,” his smile makes you laugh and for a second you forget every bad thing in the world.

Later that day you wanted to call Carmen. “Carm, you free?” You wished to tell him everything - how much you loved the city, how nice his friend was, the fun you were having, and how good this was for you. Kinda wanted to beat his ass for being so mean to Luca too. “not rn, Liv, busy”

Of course.

“Olivia! Come here!” your sister screamed to get your attention. You noticed she was standing at the door, talking to somebody, so you got up and approached her. “What's up?” you asked. She closed the door and turned to you, holding something in her hands. “It's a gift from your boyfriend,” she said in a teasing tone, and you could swear that the last time you saw her that giddy was in high school. “What? How do you know?” A drop of hope celebrated its birth in your chest. “The delivery guy said it's from a chef,” the last word she playfully stretched out, so it came out a little funny, like Tina says it. You couldn't believe it. There it was, a white box carefully tied with a red ribbon. Finally Carmen realised how distracted he was and decided to apologize. Obviously, you were gone, so he missed you. Your heart filled with warmth and you smiled to yourself - you knew things would get better. You take the hefty precious gift from your sister's hands, sit on the couch, and open it with anticipation. Inside, 9 breathtaking gourmet cinnamon rolls with caramelized sugar barely fitting, leaking out of the mouthwatering, well-kneaded dough. And a note.

"You deserve all the best in the world - Luca"

I hope you enjoyed it! Part 2 might come quicker if you comment how you liked it

Snippet from the next chapters

🏷️ Tagged everyone in the comments! If you want to be excluded, just let me know♥️ @carma-fanficaddict @eternallyvenus @sia2raw @helloheyhihowdyheya @soursopsista @m1dnightsnackz @custarrds

Dividers by @saradika

512 notes · View notes

katemartinismywife · 1 month

Text

senior night - p.b

☺︎ paige bueckers x texas women's basketball player ☺︎ ☺︎ fluff ☺︎

"So you actually aren't coming?" Ryan asked her long term girlfriend Paige. "I can't make it mama, i'm so sorry" Paige was grateful that the two weren't on facetime. She was trying so hard to not tell the truth. Paige wasn't the best at lying, but she really wanted to give Ryan this special gift.

Ryan and Paige have been dating for over a little of four years. The two met while they were both at Overtime headquarters. After their first time talking they were inseparable. They had agreed to make long distance work and hope that one day their lives would settle, so they could move in together and start their lives.

Since basketball season has started they have barely seen each other since they were on different schedules. The last time they saw each other was when Ryan flew to Storrs for their game against Maryland. But that was back in November, it is now February.

Ryan had missed her girlfriend so much. It was beginning to hit her hard. All she wanted was to see her especially on her big day. "Are you at least going to watch?" Ryan sighed walking into the locker room. "I'm going out with the team tonight, but if it is on somewhere you know I will" Paige spoke trying to not break her heart more.

"I love you" Before Paige could respond Ryan hung up the call. Paige knew she was upset, but really hoped that this would work. She hated when her baby was unhappy. Paige was currently on her flight to Texas texting Ryan's sister about how much she hated hurting her.

Of course Paige couldn't do this big surprise by herself, so she allowed for KK and Auzi to come with her. Ryan loved the two girls, so it would be great for her to see them too.

Ryan slipped on her bose headphones and changed into her warm ups. "Ryan you okay?" Jordana asked her. Jordana Codio was her best friend on the team. "I'm good" Ryan smiled, but it never reached her eyes.

jordana: pb you got my girl stressing lol

pb: i love her sm

jordana: i'm excited for y'all 😭

It was officially time for senior night to begin. Ryan met up in the tunnel with her mom and her sister. Ryan was an a very emotional person, so she immediatly began crying. "Stop crying crazy, nothing has happened yet" Her sister laughed giving her a hug"

"Ryan Andrews"

Ryan began walking wiping her tears off her face and smiling as the crowd cheered. Finally being able to clear her eyesight, what she didn't expect to see was her girlfriend standing beside her head coach.

She stopped in her tracks with her hand over her mouth. Paige laughed walking up to her giving her a tight hug as Ryan broke down into tears. The love stricken crowd began to "aw". "Stop crying mama" Paige spoke wiping Ryan's tears off her face. "I want to kiss you so bad right now" She spoke quietly releasing her from the hug and holding her hand.

Coach Schaefer walked over to Ryan hugging her and giving her the microphone. "This is so awkward. Um, I just want to thank Coach S and all the rest of my amazing coaches for helping me improve throughout these four years. I have loved playing for this team. A huge thank you goes out to my mom, sister, and paige for helping me through all of the mental and physical breakdowns. I love you guys so much and I am not a cute crier, so I'm going to stop talking now" Ryan laughed hugging her coach again.

The crowd busted out into cheers and claps. "I am so proud of you" Her mom told her wiping her tears. "Thank you mommy" Ryan walked off the court hand in hand with her girlfriend. "You made me cry meanie" Ryan smiled nudging her girlfriend. "I'm sorry baby, but I wanted to surprise you on your big day" Paige pulled the girl into a hug placing a kiss on her forehead.

"Go win" Paige told her smiling at her.

TEXAS LONGHORNS W, 71-46

Right after the last buzzer Ryan ran right over to her girlfriend engulfing her into a hug. Ryan wrapped her legs around Paige's waist and secretly kissed the side of her neck. "You did so good mama" Paige smiled rocking the two side to side.

"Don't leave! I'm going to go take a quick shower and then I'll meet you out here" Ryan jumped off of her. Looking around making sure the coast is clear. She threw her hands around her neck kissing Paige's soft lips. "I love you" Paige spoke between kisses rubbing her hands up and down Ryan's back.

"don't go anywhere okay?"

"i'm not going anywhere" Ryan walked off smiling and throwing her arm around Jordana's shoulder. Paige watched the now overjoyed girl skip off to the locker room.

She really did find her person.

#wcbb #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn women’s basketball #texas woman's basketball #my ocs #fluff #pb #paige bueckers fluff

335 notes · View notes

buckysegan · 29 days

Text

With all my heart, my love and my unfiltered adoration - Part three.

Summary: The letters back and forth between our loves through the rest of the war. Word Count: 2.1K A/N: we are def rolling with some historical inaccuracies in regards to letters here but sue me, do i know how long the letters took? not a clue. but google gave us a good guess. john egan how i miss you, i need your love so here i give you mine. Part two link.

Dear Major Egan,

I'm delighted to hear I'm with you. I hope you know, that you've been with me too. It's rather insane to me if I think about it too much, just how much I've thought about you in the time that I've waited for your letters. Part of me was worried that you would think I was a little crazy righting to a man I didn't know and an even bigger part of me was worried my letters would reach you too late, but I'm glad you were happy to hear from me.

I don't mind that you're a simple guy, in fact I think I like that, then I won't have to worry about impressing you whilst we write back and forth I can just say what comes to mind. I like to think that I laugh quite easily myself, laughter is free right? And right now I think we could all use a little laughter in the world. I'll tell you my favorite song next and then you can tell me yours, I love you are my sunshine, it warms something in my chest whenever it comes on, I just can't help but smile you know? Your turn John!

I wish I could know exactly where you are, then I could know if you were some place safe but I'll settle for knowing you're still out there. As for me, I'm in Washington, Redmond to be more precise, is that anywhere near where you're from? I'd like to meet you very much Major.

With all my anticipation, excitement and continued adoration,

A friend from home x

Dear Darling,

That's what the boys have been calling you ever since your second letter arrived and given I don't know your name, that's what I decided to roll with. I hope that's alright.

I have no idea how your letters keep finding me at the exact right time, it's like fate keeps leaving it till it knows I need to hear from you. You should also know, it wouldn't matter to me if you were a little crazy, I know I'm crazy so you'd just fit right in. I don't think anyone that thinks laughter is free could be considered crazy though. You seem to good for such a thing.

I've had you are my sunshine stuck in my head for the past few days whilst I tried to find paper to write you. I think the boys were grateful at first because I wasn't sinking Blue Skies my old favorite, now I think they're ready to kill us both darling. Next question, do you like cats or dogs more? I'm not telling you my answer till I know you can be trusted.

I am with you. Know that much, and I guess Washington will be my first stop when I'm back home.

Please never stop writing.

With all my wondering, respect and ever growing adoration

John Egan

Dear John,

I could have given you my name. But I've decided that darling will do quite nicely for now. If you want to know my name you're going to have to make it home and come and get it yourself.

Is it sad of me to confess that every day I don't get your letter I get a little bit sadder until one comes through? I just hate the wait each time even though I know that these things take time. Writing you might just be the most stressful thing I decided to be. How does anyone's heart survive doing this?

You'll be pleased to know, I've been annoying the girls plenty in return with Blue Skies since learning that it's your favourite. I feel like it tells me a lot about you Major. Sing it for me sometime? I also feel like your question is a trick, a cat and a dog have very different purposes in life so I'll just chose both if that's ok?

I wanted to tell you I joined the war efforts myself since I last wrote. I'm in the factories now and I have to admit, I've never enjoyed having dirty hands so much. I'm helping to build the planes. The wings specifically, I think they put me here because I wouldn't stop talking about my pilot John.

I wonder if anything I ever build will make it across to you? My letters won't stop as long as yours don't John.

With all my curiosity, joy and bursting adoration.

Your darling from home x

Dear Darling,

I'm in a terrible mood. Buck said I can't start my letter like that but I told him you'd be alright. You don't mind do you? I have to tell someone or I think I might actually start going a little crazy. I might already be crazy if I didn't get just as excited as you do when the mail call comes through.

I wish I knew you before the war. I wish you knew me before the war, I fear I might not be the John that came to England. I don't even know if I'm the John that start writing you all those months ago. I'm just sort of hoping you won't give up on me anyway even if my letters ain't always sunshine.

And I'm glad darling, I'm so god damn glad that waiting on my letters is the most stressful part of your day. Reminds me why we're doing this, what we're over here for. To keep you all safe at that side.

I suppose I can give you cats and dogs though. I wouldn't want to pick either if we really had to come down to it. My girls smart though huh? Making those planes for us to fly? I gotta say the idea of that does something to me and my bad mood in a good way.

What I wouldn't give to be home with you right now and I never even met you.

My longing, wishing and steady adoration

John Egan

Dear John

You can write to me, come rain or shine, bad moods or good. I don't want to just be here for the fun parts Major. I may not have known you before the war, and I may only just be learning who you are now but I don't doubt for a second, every part of you is worth knowing so tell Buck that I'll take it all and he can keep his opinions to himself.

I'm sorry, it was thoughtless of me to say writing letters were stressful when you're over there doing what needs to be done. More news keeps reaching us and each day I am terrified that your name is going to appear on a list somewhere.

I know that you can't be here, and I can't be there, but I wanted you to have some small piece of me with you so I sent you something with this letter. Keep smiling with me John, through the good and the bad, just keep smiling if you can.

I hope to see you so soon.

All my determination, strength and adoration

Darling x

Dear Darling,

Buck said he's sorry. He won't ever doubt you again. I think you two would really like each other you know.

He's my voice of reason these days, or rather he always has been. One of my two favorite people, him here, and you all the way over there. How is home? Does it still smell as sweet as I remember it?

I'm a little convinced that you're too good to be true darling. Your picture caused more whistles and taunts that I've seen from the boys in forever and I would have knocked them all on their ass if Buck didn't strike and tell me to sit down again. How do you not have a solider of your own to be writing too?

Sometimes when I get down time. I like to day dream about what you're up to over there. How many planes you fixed up for us, imagine taking you dancing on a Friday night, do you have siblings? Your folks still around? I've been trying to picture it all.

I dream of that soon more than I care to admit.

With all my promises, thoughts and adoration

John Egan

Dear John,

I'm glad you have a voice of reason. We wouldn't want you getting up to any trouble now would we? Are you the sort to be in trouble a lot? I get the impression you could be Major Egan.

How are your moods holding up these days? I can't help but worry about you over here even when I'm meant to be busy.

If you could see the blush that you have all caused you would all be ashamed of yourself. I promise I'm real. I tried to get my friend Meg to let me send a picture of her but she claimed you were really going to show up here one day and then you'd be looking for the wrong girl.

I like the idea of you imagining things. It means I'm not the only one. I do have siblings, an older sister who works in the factories with me, and a little brother who is out fighting with you somewhere but his own girl writes him. My folks are both still here with me too. What's your family like?

I do have a solider of my own to be writing John, I have you.

Tell me a secret if you can?

Your darling x

Dear Darling,

Forgive me because this letter will be short, but I needed to send it out before we move. If you don't hear from me in a while, don't worry, I'll write back as soon as I'm able. I want that name, I want the dancing, I want you to meet my mom when I'm back.

You want to know a secret darling? I think it's taken me ten letters to fall in love with you after all you've given me.

With my heart, my love and my unfiltered adoration

John Egan

Dear John,

I'm writing even if you might not get this because I refuse to believe anything else other than you're busy for a while. I'll be over here waiting for you remember. I'm with you even when I'm not.

I have so much more to tell you and things I want to learn before I am satisfied.

In fact, no I may never be satisfied and then I never have to let you go.

You'll be in each of my thoughts till I hear from you again John, I think loving you took me one letter.

With all my heart, my love and my unfiltered adoration

Your darling x

Dear John

I don't think I've taken a real breath in weeks. I figured I would write you again, just in case the first one didn't reach you and you thought I hadn't wrote back.

Your name hasn't appeared on any lists so I refuse to believe that you're not still out there waiting to come home to me.

In case you missed it in the first letter, I love you too.

I am still expecting you home John Egan, I'd be with you till you were. That was the deal right?

With all my heart, my love and my unfiltered adoration

Your darling x

Dear John

If my letters and love don't reach you where do they go?

Tell me more secrets please? Tell me anything? Tell me you'll sing for me like I asked? What do I do if I never get to meet you?

I've checked each list I've found twice every day for months now. Meg said I'm a mess but I don't really care, I just want to know that you're alright. Even if you're not coming here. Please just tell me you're safe John.

With all my heart, my love and my unfiltered adoration

Your darling x

Dear Darling,

Sorry, I didn't think a little while would be that long but I've thought of you every damn day I couldn't write to you. I got your letters, all three of them made it to my base some how.

I'm hoping I beat this letter home so that I can tell you in person that I love you.

I hope you like what arrives in Washington darling, but please bare with me if it takes me a second to adjust. I'll tell you everything, all of it, anything you want to know about me. I feel like I have very little to offer you but it's all for you now. I'll be home so soon.

With all my heart, my love and my unfiltered adoration

Yours,

John Egan

#john egan #master of the air #john egan x reader #callum turner #mota drabble #mota fanfic #bucky egan

285 notes · View notes

lowkeyerror · 6 months

Text

A New Victim pt2

Sam Carpenter x Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Notes: Will contain suspected Scream warnings eventually

Summary: Now you're a character in the story. It doesn't sit well with you.

Part 1 | part 3 | Masterlist

“ No, she’s lying,” Chad dismissed your claims immediately. “ Remember what she said at the park. This is a fucking prank. It’s not real. He’s not he-“

“ Chad,” Mindy cut him off. “ Look at her.”

It was clear to everyone in the room that there was something wrong with you. That whatever emotions you were feeling were real.

The other selling point was that Sam herself was convinced that you were being honest. She was the most skeptical one of the group. However, there was no doubt in her mind that you were not deceiving them.

“ I was on my way home after you guys left. It felt like someone was watching me. I thought I was going crazy, but then I looked around. He was across the street, watching me. He dragged his finger across his neck. I felt like I couldn’t move that’s when Sam bumped into me,” you recounted the events clearly.

“ He was watching us at the park,” Tara deduces.

Sam rubs her forehead, “ It probably looked like we were close. So the killer grouped you with us.”

“ What does that mean?” The fear in your voice made everyone at the group look at you with pity.

“ Welcome to the freak show,” Mindy says.

Anika shoves her girlfriend,” It means, that you’ve just got a bunch of new friends.”

“ Am I going to die?”

They group all share looks.

Sam puts her hand on your shoulder. There’s a fire in her eyes as looks at you, “ No, you’re not going to die. In this group we protect each other and that includes you now “

“ I think you should stay here for awhile Y/n,” Tara speaks softly.

You nod, still unable to fully process what this all means.

“ In the morning we can go to your place and pick up some of your stuff, ok?” This time the older Carpenter sister speaks to you.

You nod again. Your moments away from slipping back into the trance that you arrived in. Sam squeezes your hand lightly pulling you back into the light.

“ Y/n?”

You shake your head and stand abruptly, “ Can I use your bathroom real quick?”

Sam eyes you but agrees to take you, “ Follow me.”

Instead of escorting you to the public bathroom, she leads you to her room. You stand awkwardly as she rummages through her drawers.

She hands you some sweatpants and a t-shirt, “ Here, you can use my bathroom. Have a shower and um if you’re tired you can sleep in here.”

“ Thanks,” you’re grateful for the offer.

Usually you’d take a long shower, but you had a sense of paranoia about you. You were in there for less than 5 minutes.

Sam’s clothes feel big on you. They smell like her and that brings you some comfort. You quickly exit the bathroom to find her bedroom empty.

You stare at the bed for a long while debating on whether if you should lay there. You decide against it, thinking about where Sam would sleep if you were to take her bed.

You grab a pillow off her bed and then lay on the hardwood floor. Sleep wasn’t going to come easy after the day you had. So you stared up at the ceiling trying to think about anything, but the killer.

“ Why are you on the floor?”

You turn to loom at the dark haired girl, “ I thought it’d be weird to take the bed from you.”

“ We’re going to share the bed,” Sam wasn’t asking or suggesting, she was telling you what it was going to be.

She extends her hand to help you off of the floor. You hesitantly grab it and she yanks you to your feet. Her grip is much stronger than you expected.

You slip into the bed, which is ten times better than the floor. Yet, you still don’t see yourself sleeping any time soon.

“ I’m going to shower really quick and then I’ll join you, ok?”

“ Ok.”

You want to wait for Sam. When she comes out you’ll go to sleep. That’s what you convince yourself. However it was far from the truth.

When Sam gets out of the shower and into the bed your heart rate spikes. She's so close, she smells like vanilla, her skin is ever so slightly touching yours.

“ Y/n,” she says your name gently.

“ Hm.”

She turns so her body is facing yours, “ You need to rest.”

You sigh, “ I can’t.”

“ You’re safe here.”

You shake your head, “ How can you be so sure?”

Sam grabs one of your hands. Her hands aren’t soft like you imagined. They are worked and rough, but for some reason that brings you comfort.

“ I’m not going to let him hurt you.”

“ He doesn’t want to hurt me, he wants to kill me.”

Your anxieties begin to rise again. It almost feels like you’re seeing him across the street again. He’s watching you and waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

“ Look at me, Y/n.”

There’s something behind her eyes. It almost scares you. It’s dark and nearly sadistic.

“ I’m not scared of Ghostface. It doesn’t matter who is behind the mask because it always ends up the same for them. Dead or in jail. I will make sure of it."

You want to ask about the first time, but you decide against it. Instead you just nod at the woman’s words. However Sam could still feel the anxiety coming out of you.

She was hesitant, but you wouldn’t have been able to tell. Her hand intertwined with one of yours. The feeling of her hand in yours causes you to blush. Something you hope that Sam doesn’t take notice of in the dark. She does, but she doesn't comment on it. She’s trying to process her own feelings of warmth.

You squeeze her hand lightly as a thank you and it makes her smile a bit. It’s somewhere in the softness of that moment that Sam decides she’s going to protect you no matter what it takes.

Taglist: @aiakuma @idkwhatiamdoingherebro

#lowkeyerror #samantha carpenter x reader #samantha carpenter #tara carpenter #chad meeks martin #anika kayoko #mindy meeks martin

265 notes · View notes

rewh0re · 2 months

Text

—968 words, angst, death, deep talks about life, cemeteries. yea ig that's it. yea also wrote this at 3 am guys i am mighty sleep deprived

a/n; atp I'm doing everything BUT studying or writing my gojo fic :D (gojo fic someday you'll see the light till then this megumi angst has to compensate for it) REBLOGS + FEEDBACKS ARE APPRECIATED!!

megumi can never truly forget that memory.

he remembers clear blue skies and the occasional chirping of birds along with the flapping of their wings. white clouds slowly drifting in the air and dragonflies hovering over the grass. the trees were green and lush, the leaves gently rustling due to the cool breeze which could mean one thing alone—the advent of spring. there was a silence that washed his body with a strange type of peace, a peace he had never quite known, that he had just allowed himself to feel. and there was a presence—you—standing beside him, looking at the unknown grave, head tilted slightly and hands deep in your pockets.

he couldn't help but think—there was so much life bursting amidst a place that housed the dead.

megumi never liked cemeteries. they made him sad, unhappy, gloomy in a way. but you found a certain peace in them. to walk in silence, looking at the many graves—you had said it calmed one's soul. made one think. made one feel grateful for their life.

"it's almost amusing, don't you think?" you had asked, breaking your silence.

"dead people amuse you now?" megumi looked over at you to find you still looking at the grave. how could it ever be amusing to look at a stranger's grave? he swore that sometimes even you didn't understand what you were saying.

"no idiot," you shook your head, a little chuckle bursting out of your throat as your eyes locked with his.

"what i mean is," you sighed "that these people, they were people, like you and me. they had dreams and hopes and aspirations. they worked hard for their passions and hoped to achieve so much through their efforts. isn't it awful how many of these people might never have reached their dreams? their lives cut short as they were snatched away from their own loved ones?"

you ruffled your hair before crossing your arms, "i find it unfair. isn't it unfair? how you never know what will happen? how you, me—all of us—will just become another memory to be forgotten? how we'll just become dust, become one with the earth? our names, just some carvings on some stones and even then—everything will just go on as it is. life will go on. we're just lone stars burning out in the massive universe."

megumi could only look at you. you had that effect on him, rendering him speechless through your words alone. a few seconds passed before he finally found his voice again.

"well," he began, tone laced with a certain gentleness that only showed itself in your presence. "i see it more like the beauty of life. we're here and then we're not. we live and we love and we thrive and we falter. it's the way of life, or the rule of life, whatever you call it. i think that's why we have to make sure we make the most of it. life is unpredictable and that's what makes it so thrilling."

"i think you're right—well—in a way at least. i've learnt to cherish my life. i think with you by my side, i can stand strong and proud and i can live. i'm glad you found me and i found you and i'm glad that we're always by each other's side," you smiled up at him, nudging his shoulder.

"always?"

"always."

wasn't that the promise you made?

it was like looking through a glass window, so vividly was that day's image imprinted on his mind. he wanted to break that glass and take a hold of that memory and relive it again and again and again if it meant he could have you by his side. he definitely would do that if he could.

life is not really beautiful he learnt after he started visiting the cemetery more often. it was cruel, it was ruthless, it filled one with agony and suffering and pain. oh, so much pain.

he never looked at random graves anymore like he did before with you. no, he looked at just one. the name etched on the stone with a few leaves scattered at the base—l/n y/n.

it hurt, it truly did. through you, megumi learnt love and loss, he learnt heartbreak and grief and what it felt like to cry in the middle of the night wishing for you to hold him close and whisper i'm here. you never were though, you wouldn't be there anymore, you wouldn't cradle him and card your fingers softly through his hair or wipe his tears or kiss his worries away. you wouldn't and that was reality and he had to live with that reality.

megumi learnt through you how promises were only made to be broken—knowingly or unknowingly.

but you taught him how to love and to be loved, how to find beauty and peace in the mundane, how to dream big and how to care, to be kind.

he loved you but he had to let you go. alas, you wouldn't want him to be stuck, frozen in a place where darkness loomed and nothing but sheer heartache reigned supreme. maybe it was true that a part of him was gone. maybe it was true that he would never feel truly and completely whole again. but he could swear your ghost would curse at him if he didn't at least try to move forward.

so he laid a bouquet of white carnation at the base of your grave, uttering a silent prayer.

"always." he brought his index and middle finger to his lips and then placed it on the top of the headstone before standing up, burying his hands deep in his coat pockets.

"always." he whispered, letting his words get carried by the air before turning around to walk away.

#—storytelling🌙#fushiguro megumi #megumi fushiguro #jjk #jujustu kaisen #jjk angst #jujustu kaisen angst #megumi angst #megumi x reader #jjk x reader #jujustu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #megumi x you #megumi fushiguro angst #fushiguro megumi angst

113 notes · View notes

just-wrting · 1 year

Text

Can't Take the Hint

Title: Can't Take the Hint

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Summary: You're having a hard time rejecting guys, thankfully the one you're into helps you out.

Warnings: Creepy guy and smut

Word Count: 2,826

Master List

A/N: This was meant to have more scenes in it, but I've opted to save those ideas for another time. This is also only my third time writing smut so I hope it's not that bad.

“I don’t know Dave. Asking them out seems like a bad idea.”

You hear Hotch’s voice even through the closed door. You want to linger and listen, but there’s a new case. Instead, you knock gently on Rossi’s office door. Within a few seconds, it swings open and Hotch is standing in front of you.

“Garcia said she’s got a case and to come get you guys,” you say. “I’m not interrupting anything am I?”

“No, we were just finishing up. In fact, I’ll walk with you if that’s okay?” Hotch moves toward you, and you back up.

“Sure. Though I hope you don’t mind if I borrow Rossi later. I have some guy trouble that I want his advice on.”

For a split second, he frowns. It’s so quick you think you’re imagining it. You study his face intently, wondering if it was just a trick of the light. There’s no reason that he would be upset about you having guy troubles. He’s just your boss, nothing more.

“Rossi’s advice may not be great, he does have multiple divorces. I could help you.”

“That’s actually why I’d like to talk to him about it. He’s gotten used to rejection.”

You give him a soft smile. He chuckles but doesn’t say anything. You know his offer still stands if you ever need to talk to him. He’s a great boss, and you’re grateful to him for being there for you when you need it.

You do your best to pay attention as Hotch and Garcia present your next case. A couple of bodies turned up in a forest on the west coast, and the local police had no idea how they got there. They all showed various stages of decay, indicating that they had been there for a different amount of time each.

“Well, the ME states the body that had been there the longest was there for about a year. Given that there are six bodies in that area that puts us at a murder every two months,” Emily says while placing her tablet down.

“So either he’s doing something to them that takes about two months, or he’s being extra careful.” Rossi rubs his chin.

Reid leans back in his chair. “Based on the ME’s report of the most recent body, he’s most likely torturing his victims for about a month.”

“Great. Cause that’s what we need to be doing, scouring the missing persons reports for a person that could be joining the body pile,” you groan.

Granted, Garcia is lightning-fast and great at sifting through things like that, but you still think it’ll take forever. This is shaping up to be one of those cases that just takes time. Time that you don’t have to be wasting on dead ends and possibilities.

“Wheels up in thirty,” Hotch says, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Be prepared for long days.”

—

It’s been over an hour and everyone is just lost in thought. Occasionally someone will throw out an idea, but without doing more interviews and crime scene analysis, there isn’t much to discuss. You take the opportunity to slide into a seat across from Rossi.

“Mind if I ask you some stuff? Take your mind off the case for a second?” you ask. “I promise I’ll be quick.”

Rossi gives you a smile. “Sure thing, kid. What else is someone with as much wisdom as I, supposed to do?”

You relax muscles you didn’t realize were tense. “Besides helping others out, I’m not too sure. So there’s this guy, I see him all the time since he goes to the same breakfast place as I do, and he asked me out.”

Rossi nods. “And you aren’t sure if that’s a good choice?”

“Actually, I know it’s a bad choice. Since the day before I’d seen him with another girl. They’re obviously a thing so I told him no. The problem is that now he won’t leave me alone. I don’t know what I did wrong.”

Rossi reaches out to grab your hand. He gives it a gentle squeeze and makes sure to look into your eyes.

“Kid, you didn’t do anything wrong. A man like that is just plain creepy and probably won’t take the hint until you tell him there’s another man you're with. If you need us to, I’m sure Hotch or Morgan will gladly help you play pretend to get him to leave you alone. We’re here to help each other.”

You slowly nod. You really didn’t think you’d actually encounter one of those guys that give off the same energy that serial stalkers have, but you did. Not to mention, it was while you weren't working.

“You’re right. I’ll give it some thought during the case, but for now, that’s what needs our attention. Let’s just hope things go better than they usually do.”

—

Things are not going better than they usually do. Hotch paired you with him and Morgan to go to the crime scene which wouldn’t have been an issue if it wasn’t for the constant drizzle that had started well before you had landed. Nothing says ‘a great day for a walk in the woods’ like rain.

You watch as an officer slips slowly down the hill to reach where the last body was found. The whole area was slick with mud. It’d probably be fun if you were a young boy in your own backyard but as an agent hoping to get an idea of what this dump site looked like in its horrible prime, not so fun.

The rain picks up and you duck under a tree. Hotch joins you while Morgan chuckles.

“I’ll go get the umbrellas from the SUV since you two must be made of sugar. Don’t start without me.”

Shortly after Morgan walks off, another officer approaches you. He sticks his hand out for you to shake.

“You must be Agent Hotchner and Agent (L/N),” he says while giving you a large smile. “Do you need an umbrella? I have one in the car.”

“Oh no thanks. Agent Morgan is returning with the ones he went to get. I can see him now.”

The officer’s smile wavers, but stays firm on his face. “Well, (L/N), I’m Officer Mike Morris. If you need anything, anything at all, let me know right away and I’ll help you.”

With that, the officer leaves. Hotch looks at you with an odd look on his face. You can’t quite place the emotion that’s behind his eyes.

“Here’s the umbrella. You two can share it because I’m not letting (L/N) pull me down into the mud.”

Morgan gets a head start down the hill. You watch him complete the task with ease, and you can’t help but be a bit envious. Sure you can take down grown men, but Morgan makes most physical feats look easy.

“(Y/N)?” Hotch’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. “You do know that if you need anything, both on the case and off the case, you can talk to me, right?”

His hand rests on your shoulder. You give him a smile and start to head down the slope.

“Of course. You’re my go-to person if I need something, Hotch. I’ll let you know if I need anything.”

—

It’s the next day, and you’re sitting at the table staring down a pile of paper. It’s early in the morning, and you think you’d kill for a cup of coffee right about now. Unfortunately, you got up early and were one of the first in the office. That means that there was no coffee for you to have and you have to wait for some to brew.

A sudden knock on the doorway startles you. You whirl around to find Officer Mike Morris standing in the doorway.

“I see you’re into mornings, just like I am. Figured you would want a cup of coffee.”

He sets down a cup of lukewarm coffee. You watch as the liquid settles and realize that the color is off. It won’t taste the way you like it, but you do your best to take a sip. You’re right. It’s not how you’d like it.

“(Y/N)? You left early today so I brought you coffee and breakfast. I hope that’s okay.”

Hotch walks into the room holding a tray of coffee and a to-go bag. He briefly looks at Officer Morris before looking at you.

“Thanks! What did you get me?”

A soft smile spreads across Hotch’s face. He sets the coffee tray down and pulls one of the cups out. You carefully read the label on the cup. It’s made just the way you like. As you take a sip, you feel the caffeine send tingles to your brain and you start to wake up.

“And breakfast?”

Hotch pulls a muffin out of the bag and hands it to you. You're quite grateful for the snack. Nothing says FBI breakfast like coffee and a pastry.

“Thank Hotch. I got up pretty early so I didn’t have a chance of getting food.”

You bury your face back into the papers, ignoring the men. You can feel the tension in the room though. They seem to be locked in some sort of silent fight, over what you can’t tell. A fight over ruining your train of thought is possible, but you can’t imagine that making you useless was a great idea.

“Well, (L/N), I’ll see you later. Don't be a stranger,” Officer Morris says before leaving.

—

“Oh, I call shotgun!” You say as you open the passenger door.

Hotch slides into the driver's seat. “As long as you don’t touch the radio we’ll be fine.”

Before the two of you can leave the parking lot, there’s a knock on your window. Hotch is quick to lock the doors. You frown when you see it’s Officer Morris. He seems to be everywhere. If it wasn’t for the fact that he didn’t fit the preliminary profile, you’d assume he was the unsub.

Rolling down the window, you ask, “ Was there something you needed, Officer Morris?”

“I heard you were headed to see the Willows and I figured I should come with. They’re grumpy and old so they don’t take well to strangers. I actually happen to know them quite well and am off duty now.”

You glance at Hotch, unsure of how you should shut Officer Morris down. Hotch’s mouth is drawn in a thin line and his eyes are cold. You can practically feel the irritation coming off him and you turn your gaze to the clock. Staring at the time seems like a better choice.

“I think (Y/N) and I will be fine. We’re both highly capable agents who’ve dealt with difficult people.”

Morris smiles tightly. “I’m sure (L/N) is an exceptional agent, but I can assure you that these aren’t your ordinary grumpy old people. We got a call once that Mr. Willow tried to shoot the mailman when he got too close.”

You hear the leather squeak as Hotch’s hand tightens on the steering wheel. He’s getting far more than irritated. In fact, you’d venture to say he was getting pissed. It wasn’t hard to tell why. Morris is wasting your time.

“Aaron is a more capable agent than I am!” you blurt out. “So if you don’t mind, we’ll be off. Serial killers don’t wait around for us to find our clues.”

You let Hotch roll up your window and drive off. As soon as you start rolling, you see him relax.

“Man, he just won’t let up. Is there something I’m missing?” you ask.

“If he gives you any more trouble, I’ll take care of it.”

“Is that a promise?”

“Of course.”

—

It finally hits you once Morris grabs your wrist. His grip is tight. You shake your hand a couple of times, but he still holds fast.

“I’ve been hoping that I could get a chance to talk to you alone, (Y/N). I was wondering if you’d like to join me for dinner.”

The whole time you had been here, Morris was hitting on you. You pride yourself on being able to read people, but you admit that your ability to spot romance is a bit lacking. Unfortunately, you have zero interest in going out with Morris. Not only is he being quite rude at the moment, but you had no intention of going long distance. Not to mention your lingering feelings for someone else.

“Well, given that we still haven’t caught the killer, I’ll have to decline. There’s no time to waste.”

His grip tightens even more before he releases you. His eyes are dark and he’s sporting a tight frown.

“Does Agent Hotchner not let you date?”

You stare at him in shock. “Excuse me?”

“Is Agent Hotchner interfering with your personal life? Does he dictate whether or not his team members can date?”

You shake your head. “No, he doesn't. This is a personal choice. I’d rather not go to dinner with you when I have a serial killer to catch.”

Morris says nothing, but you can tell he doesn’t believe you. His animosity toward Hotch confuses you. You don’t bother trying to understand it, however. There isn’t anything about this guy that is making sense.

“If you don’t mind, I’m going to go back to my team. If you need anything, feel free to contact one of them.”

With that, you turn and walk back to the main room. You want nothing more than to have someone tell him off, but you opt not to mention anything. The team has other things to worry about.

—

Once again, Morris has done his best to ask you out. This time making the mistake of asking in front of Hotch. The tension in the room grows thick, and you feel uncomfortable. You can see Hotch seething.

“I don’t think-“

You’re cut off by Hotch. “You are to leave (Y/N) alone for the rest of this case, Officer Morris.”

His voice is icy. There’s a vein popping in his forehead and his hand is tight on the file. There’s no one else in the room to stop the fight that’s about to break out.

“(Y/N) doesn’t need to date whoever you approve of Hotchner. You’d be stepping out of your boundaries by making that choice.”

Hotch strides over to where you’re standing. He tosses the file onto the desk next to you and grabs your face. Within milliseconds, he’s pulled you into a kiss.

His lips are chapped and you let his tongue enter your mouth you can faintly taste blood. He’s passionate about it. One hand reaches around to the back of your head to keep you in place. There’s more force than necessary, and you feel yourself growing light-headed.

You don’t know how long he’s kissing you for, seconds or minutes, and it doesn’t matter. He’s set a fire inside of you and you find yourself whining when he pulls away. He’s careful to keep you close though.

“If you don’t mind, Officer Morris, (Y/N) and I will be leaving.”

—

Aaron pins one of your legs up against your body with the other wrapping around his waist. Your ankle is behind his head and you feel sweat fall from his brow.

“Why didn’t you tell him off sooner?”

You can’t answer his question with anything but a moan. You arch your back as he continues to pound you. Your body craves him and you feel delirious. The only thing you can think about is the way he’s making you feel.

“I could’ve done more to you in that office, but he doesn’t deserve to see you like that.”

Each thrust of his hips punctuates his statement. You can’t even tell what he’s saying though. The only thing on your mind is him. The way he’s filling you up. The way he feels inside of you. The way that each thrust hits that sweet spot makes you moan.

“A-Aaron!” you cry out.

His lips press harshly against yours. With one final thrust, you come undone. Your fingers grip his bicep tightly as you cum and you feel your legs tremble. You’ve been doing this for hours, and you’ve lost count of how many times that was.

When he pulls away, his face is soft. There’s no more anger or jealousy hidden in his eyes and a smile is slowly spreading across his face.

“You aren’t hurt are you?”

You giggle and shake your head. “Just a little out of practice for this. I’ll be a bit sore later but otherwise fine.”

His next kiss is soft and tender. You relish the fact that you’re spending the night with him.

“Good because when we get back to D.C. I’ll have to show you a different side of this. Perhaps after dinner?”

You let your eyes flutter closed. “I think that sounds like a great idea.”

#reader insert #criminal minds #aaron hotch #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch fluff #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch smut

505 notes · View notes

iamthemain-character · 1 year

Text

Sankt Milo

platonic! The Crows x reader

gender neutral pronouns (reader is referred to as “you” and the occasional “Y/n”)

TW: show-based, non-canon compliant, 2014-Avengers-Tower-fic-type of writing

a/n: milo is my favorite character. that’s all.

Shadow and Bone Masterlist

You had been absent for almost a week.

Sunday afternoon, you simply disappeared from the club and hadn’t returned since. The only reason the Crows hadn’t completely panicked yet was because you had left notes for all of them saying you had to leave but you would return (each with a special indication that you did not write this as you were being kidnapped). Nonetheless, The Crow Club felt emptier without you, and each member missed you terribly.

It was storming late that Friday, and after closing the club post-another successful night, all 6 crows were gathered around a table, enjoying a drink together. With a clap of thunder the group heard the back door slam open, then shut again. Everyone drew their weapons, hearing heavy footsteps slosh their way across the wooden floors. A figure, cloaked in shadow, stopped in the entryway from the storage rooms, and everyone waited with baited breath to strike.

With a flash of lightning, the figure’s shadows were cast aside, revealing you. A very drenched and bedraggled you, but you nonetheless.

“Y/n!” 5 voices cried out.

“Milo!” Jesper’s voice carried over the others, for even more astonishing than your return was the furry, black and white animal you carried in your arms.

The Zemeni man quickly crossed the room, but not without Nina, Inej, and Wylan on his heels. The latter three took your hands, throwing a dry blanket over your shoulders and Jesper carefully took the goat from your arms, pressing kisses to it’s head over and over.

“Oh Milo, I have thought of you every day.”

The group helped you sit down at the table, bringing more towels and blankets, and Kaz pouring you a strong drink. But despite your shivering, you couldn’t help the smile that cracked across your face as you watched your friend reunited with his emotional support goat old friend.

Wylan turned to you, an incredulous look on his face. “That’s Milo?”

Nina and Matthias had matching confused expressions on their faces, but it was Nina who spoke up. “So did you disappear without a trace for the goat or was that just a happy accident? Also why is Jesper in love with a goat?”

With a laugh, some help from Inej, and some quips from Kaz, you told the newer Crows of the treacherous and disastrous journey the group had taken through The Fold and how Jesper had formed a trauma-bond with this particular goat.

Jesper came back to your table, Milo still clutched in his arms, just as you were explaining yourself.

“Jesper was so sad to say goodbye to Milo, and I just wanted to get him back. But I didn’t want to tell you guys that’s what I was doing in case I wasn’t successful. But thankfully that sweet barmaid had sent him to her father’s farm, and I was able to buy him back.”

“Please tell me you didn’t spend too much for that goat.” Kaz’s voice cut, head turned with his classic look of disapproval.

No longer able to be scared by Dirtyhands, you waved him off. “No price is too much for our little Milo.” With a smirk you turned back to the club owner, “Perhaps we should rename this place The Goat Club?”

The table roared with laughter at the pure look of disgust upon Kaz’s face at your simple suggestion. Inej reached across and scratched Milo’s chin, a smile upon her face. “That’s not so bad, after all, Milo is like our own little Saint.”

Nina clasped her hands together, delighted at the Suli girl’s suggestion. “Sankt Milo! Oh how perfect. I am all for the changing of the name.”

Kaz’s voice broke through the laughter. “We are not changing the name, and we are not keeping it.”

Despite what he said, Wylan found himself grateful for Jesper’s arms around him as they fell asleep, because otherwise the former feared he would have fallen of the edge of the bed. Somehow, one small goat seemed to take up half the bed.

And even though Kaz swore that the goat would be sold in the morning, everyone turned a blind eye when he placed a plate of waffles down for Milo in the morning.

That was, everyone turned a blind eye until Nina realized they were her waffles.

#shadow and bone #season 2 shadow and bone #netflix shadow and bone #the crows #six of crows #the crow club #sankt milo #milo the goat #jesper fahey x reader #kaz brekker x reader #inej ghafa x reader #wylan van eck x reader #nina zenik x reader #matthias helvar x reader #the crows x reader

468 notes · View notes

joshym · 6 months

Text

Le Morte d'Arthur: Chapter 2

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader, Sam Kiszka x f!Reader (oops)

Summary: It all began with a passion for literature. What was once a dream to walk the halls of the University of Michigan is now a reality.

You thought you were prepared for everything.

A new town, a new school, a new way of life,

but what you were not prepared for…

was meeting the enigma that is Jake Kiszka.

Word Count: 13.5k+

Warnings: (for this chapter) please proceed with caution if you find any of the following to be triggering: poor body image, body dysmorphia, mentions of a past eating disorder, an ill parent, (this will include descriptions of struggling to breathe due to illness & mentions of an oxygen mask) drinking, cussing, Jake is jealous? 18+ ONLY: some pretty heaving making out, (but it's not with who you think it is hehe), mentions of an erection, slight nudity, mentions of being turned on. (please let me know if i missed anything. there are a few heavy topics mentioned, & the last thing i want is for anyone to begin reading without a proper warning.)

a/n: i am so sorry this chapter took so long. i truly hope you love it & as always, please don't hesitate to let me know what you think! i love hearing from you guys. 🤍

also, huge thank you to @jakeyt for being the best editor & being my right hand in helping create this. i seriously couldn't have done it without you. love you SO much. you're the best sister i could ever ask for.

Le Morte d’Arthur Masterlist

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

Your morning drives to school are your absolute favorite part of the day. They serve as your singular moment of complete peace to counteract the chaos that can be expected once the day truly gets started. The serenity of the morning air calms your spirit and prepares you for whatever the day may bring.

You’ve managed to find an alternate route to campus, one that keeps you far away from the heavy morning traffic. It adds nearly twenty minutes to your journey, but the cost of waking a little earlier each day is worth the promise of a few spare moments of quiet solitude.

The new path you’ve found leads you straight to school, and the best part– it’s an image right out of a fairy-tale.

Trees line the unpaved road, their leaves in early autumnal splendor. Hues of orange and red greet you in their forenoon charm, catching the rays of the waking sun as they glow in bright iridescence.

This morning, there’s a light rain shower leaving tiny droplets on your windshield. The sun still dares to peek through the gray clouds, illuminating the glittering raindrops as they gently fall to the ground.

You’ve yet to be met with another morning traveler since you discovered this road only days ago. It feels as though you’ve found some secret passageway— a hidden spot with no name, set aside just for you.

Pure tranquility washes over your body as your foot rests on the gas pedal.

It’s the moments like these that remind you of the beauty that still exists around you— that no matter what downfall you suffer, the earth will always be there to offer you her tiny bits of wonder to keep your feet planted firmly against her soil.

Your Firebird putters into the university parking lot, amongst the slew of shining, new vehicles with hardly an imperfection to be seen on any of them. You used to be embarrassed of your old clunker, but as time goes on you’ve learned to be grateful for it and all the places it has taken you.

Your new staff parking spot is awaiting you, of which you are entirely grateful. After your first day, you found that the parking lots fill up rather quickly with commuter students, so having a designated spot just for you everyday has saved you a lot of grief in the mornings. Yet another wonderful perk of being an employee of the university.

The smell of roasting espresso penetrates your senses as you waltz through the doors of the campus coffee shop. You and Natalia had agreed to meet this morning before your classes to study a bit for your course on influential women in literature.

Carmen, your favorite barista greets you as you walk up to the counter. Her sincere smile is always such a pleasant addition to your mornings.

She’s the most lovely vision; her loose curls always tied in a perfect ponytail, her bangs framing the contours of her face beautifully. Her black browline glasses sitting atop her freckled nose that push up past her eyebrows when she smiles, showcasing her sweet dimples.

You’ve made the coffee shop part of your morning routine everyday, so you’re not surprised when she knows your order without you having to say anything more than “Good morning, friend!”

“Large cold brew with oat milk and extra vanilla?” she asks, already writing it on the cup with a Sharpie.

You smile broadly. “You’re amazing, Carmen!” You hand her a ten and a five, insisting that she keep the change. She fights you a bit but realizes she’s already lost the battle.

She hands you your drink and you thank her, telling her you’ll see her tomorrow at the same time.

You choose a table close to a window so as to have a view of the gloomy, morning sky.

Watching the raindrops race each other to the bottom of the window seal, leaving their trail as the others merge to quickly join behind them— it gives you a sense of nostalgia that takes you back to a time when things were simply…easier.

One thing about growing up in Oklahoma— it was always raining. And much to your mom’s discontent, you were sure to be found outside right in the middle of it.

It probably explains why you were almost always sick as a child. Frequent head colds were the norm for you. It never stopped you, though. The rain brought forth a sense of clarity for you—feeling the cold drops hitting your face was the mental reset your mind needed, and it still is to this day.

You’d always been fascinated with weather— but specifically the rain. A poem you’d fawned over in your childhood spoke of rain carrying the ghosts of the past— a sentiment you’ve held onto dearly ever since.

That very poem is the reason you love literature. It’s the reason you’re here, to study the thing that brings you the most comfort.

Each time it rains, you’re flooded with lovely memories…memories of the ghosts that still linger from your youth.

This is the first rain shower you’ve experienced thus far in your new home; it feels as though the earth is trying to tell you it’ll all be just fine. She’s telling you that you do belong here, that you’re right where you need to be.

“Daydreaming much?” Natalia pulls out the chair opposite of you, sitting her usual hazelnut latte down as she takes her seat.

“Guess you could say that,” you say through a smile. “I just adore the rain.”

You each pull out your laptops and Charlotte Brontë books, catching up on your weekends with one another.

“You’ll never believe what I agreed to on Friday,” you say.

She looks at you with a smirk splayed across her glossed lips, her rose colored cheeks still wet from having just walked through the rain.

To your surprise, she asks, “Does it have anything to do with a little medieval film project?”

“How in the hell do you know about that?”

“My brother,” she responds. “He’s helping Josh with it. Doing set designs, costuming— it’s quite impressive, honestly. Those costumes are some of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen, and I’ve done theatre my entire life.” She blows air on her coffee to cool it down a bit before taking a sip, wincing from the heat as she pulls the cup away from her lips. “I knew they were searching high and low for a Guiniverre— guess I should’ve known it’d be you.” Her long, butterfly lashes flutter with a wink as she giggles.

You’re not entirely sure what to make of her last statement. You just chose to ignore it.

“He said it’ll be killing two birds with one stone— that we’ll be helping out his brother for his film class, while also having something for our project in Movack’s class.” You pause to take a deep breath, “But I am no actress. And if it’s all truly that impressive, I may prove to be a bit of a disappointment.” Your hands fall into your lap as you stare down at yourself— your body comfortably covered with your usual oversized sweater and leggings, feeling a rush of insecurities as you imagine yourself being filmed. “I’m more of a behind-the-camera type of gal, anyways.”

You’ve fought this inner battle for as long as you can fathom— your appearance is a topic you tend to avoid. You hide behind people for photos, or offer to be the one taking them to get out of being in it altogether.

Disordered eating had been a side effect of the severe dysmorphic thoughts. But thankfully, after years of receiving help, you’re finally in a stable place in your recovery.

The thing that still lingers, though; the harsh way in which you view yourself. Specifically, your appearance.

“You said you’ve done theatre your whole life— why aren’t you playing Guiniverre?” you ask her. “I can’t imagine they haven’t thought of you.”

Natalia is far more fitting for this film. She carries the beauty required to take on such a role; the beauty of a lust worthy queen. Just as well, she clearly has the experience you so greatly lack.

She scoffs as she sets down her coffee and crosses her arms. “I was not about to kiss Sam. Nope. No way. That boy is a pain in my entire ass.”

Sam?… Kissing?

This is the first you’ve heard of any of this.

“Wait— what?” Your reaction seems to have caught her by surprise. Her eyes become wide and her lips part as she takes in your obvious confusion.

“Jake…didn’t tell you about that? Did he tell you anything?” She leans in closer to you, a slight look of irritation present in her honey eyes.

“He only gave me a vague synopsis— just about the infidelity in Arthur and Guinevere's marriage.”

You suddenly come to a harsh realization that you hadn’t even thought about until now.

Adultery and infidelity— forbidden romance. An entire film all about said romance, of which you are a main component. Of course there will be kissing in this film, perhaps even more.

Your stomach drops at the prospect, and you're silently cursing Jake for leaving this little tidbit out.

Of course, it isn’t entirely his fault. You should’ve guessed when he told you the focus of the film.

You’ve already agreed, and backing out now would mean you’re back to square one with a project for Movacks class.

All you can do now— beg to be anyone but Guiniverre.

“First off,” you question, “who on earth is Sam?”

“Sammy? He’s their baby brother. He also takes classes here— well, when he decides to show up, that is. He lives with the twins.”

You pick up your coffee, taking a large gulp to keep the caffeine running through your system. “And why do I have to kiss him again?”

“I can’t believe he didn’t tell you,” she says, huffing a laugh under her breath. “Josh has…plans.”

You cock an eyebrow at her, having a pretty good inclination about what these plans entail. You nod your head to let her know to continue.

“There will be a few…intimate scenes, between you and Sam. He’ll be playing the knight of romance and chivalry himself, our beloved Sir Lancelot.” She follows suit in taking a few swigs of her coffee now that it's cooled down a bit. “You and Sam will really get to know each other. And from what I’ve gathered about this film, the emphasis will be on Guin and Lance’s love. Arthur will have a different love interest— I think they’ve already casted her? Anyways, I doubt you and Jake will have many, if any, scenes together. At least no saucy ones. Which I’m sure you’re glad to hear.”

You were not prepared in the slightest for intimacy. Intimacy in front of a camera— with someone you don’t know, all for the sake of someone you hardly know. Someone who’s been a massive dick to you, no less.

But her last statement— about not having any special scenes with Jake. She’s right, mostly. It would be incredibly uncomfortable to have any scenes like that with him…right?

But, if you're being fully honest, a small part of you is a bit…disappointed.

You shove that thought down fast. “Uh, yeah. I’m more than thrilled to hear that. That would be awkward as fuck.” You’re doing your best to be sure she doesn’t see right through you.

“But seriously, y/n. Those costumes…” She smiles widely, shaking her head back and forth. “ My brother did a great job finding those. They’re going to accentuate you in all the right ways.”

That is exactly what you’re afraid of.

With your elbows on the table, you throw your face into your open palms with such force that you nearly knock your cold brew to the floor.

“Nat, I– I don’t think I can do this.”

She lightly takes your wrist in her hand, jolting you a little so you’ll lift your face. “Hey, what’s wrong? It’s just acting, love. It’s not that serious, I promise.” Her voice is so sweet and gentle, her eyes have softened and are full of quiet concern.

“I know it’s not that serious,” Out of instinct, you pull your sleeves over your hands and take your hair out from behind your ears, hiding yourself as best as you can. “I just don’t like…this,” Your hands motion to your body covered with the security of your baggy clothes. “I’ve never liked this. I mean, just how much will these costumes… accentuate me?” The thought of baring yourself even in the slightest has your stomach tumbling with somersaults.

“Listen— I know Josh, and he will never let you do something you’re not comfortable with,” she assures, her honest smile making an appearance. “His mind is wide open and his soul is in all the right places. If there’s something you don’t like, just tell him and he’ll fix it.”

You’re racking your brain with the thought of his twin being as wonderful as she described. How could someone who shares the same DNA profile with Jake truly be that amazing?

“And stop worrying about the costumes. I can promise you, y/n, you will look sexy as hell.”

She’s doing her best to reassure you— though it’s not totally working, you act as though it is to change the subject and get started on your studies.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

You frustratedly close the lid to your laptop after having nearly failed your quiz. You had set aside plenty of time this weekend to study, but with how distracted you are right now from your conversation with Natalia this morning, all the time in the world for studying wouldn’t have mattered.

And of course, it’s Movack’s class— the one you most want to excel in, the one you share with Jake.

He closes his laptop only seconds after you.

It’s not a fucking race, Jake.

Movack stated at the beginning of class that once you finish your quiz, you’re free to leave. You quickly pack up your things, trying to make a hasty escape before Jake to avoid any possible conversation with him.

You’re halfway down the hall and as you’re about to turn the corner to safety, you hear, “Hey, y/n! I need to ask you something.”

Fucking hell.

You pause for a moment, dramatically rolling your eyes before you turn around to see Jake walking towards you.

He takes his sunglasses off and places them in the breast pocket of his shirt. He makes eye contact with you, a rarity for him, before he asks “Are you free on Saturday afternoon? Around 4:30?”

…what?

That is the very last thing you’d ever expect to come from his lips.

His gaze has yet to break as he awaits your response. His deep set amber eyes are piercing right into yours. He has an almost desperate look about him— as if he’s anxious for you to reply.

Is he…asking you out?

Your intuition tells you there’s no way, but…why else would he be asking you this?

Suddenly, your body begins to tingle. The butterflies in your tummy begin swarming.

You don’t know what changed— perhaps agreeing to the film? Maybe he’s finally seeing you as more than a scholarly competition, maybe he’s finally seeing you. Whatever it may be, you’re not questioning it any longer.

You’ve decided you’re completely infatuated with him, and getting to know him even better outside of this classroom sounds…wonderful.

“Y-yeah! I don’t have anything going on. I’m totally free!” With a full toothed grin on display and perhaps a bit too much eagerness, you follow with, “Why? What did you have in mind?”

His brows then become furrowed, his slight look of desperation transforming into one that says he’s now… confused.

“Um… okay,” His voice sounds unsure, his inflection coming off as more of a question than a statement. “I’m only asking because my brother wants to go over a read through of some of the script on Saturday…you know, for the film project.”

Oh. My. God.

You’re mentally smacking yourself across the forehead. You want to crawl inside the deepest fucking hole on this planet and stay there with your shame.

What is wrong with you? It’s as though you’ve completely forgotten you have a project to do with him— that that would be the only logical reason he’d ask if you were free. Obviously.

That’s why he looked desperate. Not because he wanted you to agree to some date— because he needs your help with this stupid fucking project you regretfully agreed to.

Your face (noticeably, you're sure) drops. You’re so humiliated at your response. No wonder he looked so damned confused.

“Sure, yeah. I can do that.” You revert back to your initial irritated tone, refusing to look him in the eye now, hoping that he’ll somehow forget you were any other way.

“He also needs you to try on the costumes, too. Make sure they’re the right size.”

The costumes.

This couldn’t get any fucking worse. But you can’t turn him down now, given you were so quick to tell him you’re free on Saturday.

You simply say “okay,” as you nod your head in agreement.

He takes out his notebook, writing down his address before ripping the sheet of paper out and handing it to you.

You tuck it away in your bag, bidding him a quick adieu before turning to walk far away from him.

Tears threaten to fall from your eyes. Not out of sadness, but out of mortification. Out of irritation.

Irritation with yourself, with him. And it’s not even his fault. You’re the one that jumped to ridiculous conclusions— jumped the highest you possibly could.

You feel utterly stupid.

So fucking stupid.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

Your mom looks at you in shock as you walk inside your apartment. Ridding yourself of your bags with a swift toss to the floor, you slump down next to her on the couch.

“What are you doing home so early? I thought you had class until later this afternoon,” she probed.

“Just a little tired,” you say. “Thought I’d give myself some time to rest before work.”

“This isn’t like you, y/n. What’s wrong, sweetie?”

She’s right— this isn’t like you. You normally wouldn’t even think of skipping class, your education being the most important thing to you. But, you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it today.

“Kind of a long day, I guess. And I’m a little stressed out with my classes.”

She then turns the television off and glares at you with the eyes of a worried mother.

“Talk to me, y/n. I know there’s more.”

You should know by now that you can’t hide anything from her. She knows you too damn well.

You can’t hold it back any longer as you begin to spill it all.

“It’s… stupid Jake. I thought he was asking me out today, but he most definitely was not. And I made an idiot out of myself because I misunderstood and—”

She stops you mid sentence, “And who is Jake?” she questions.

You haven’t told her a single thing about him, about your project, anything. It’s not that you were trying to hide it from her, you just really didn’t want to talk about it.

With a heavy sigh, you say, “He’s my partner for this huge semester project in my King Arthur class. We’re doing an Arthurian film with his brother,” you put a palm to your face. Looking up at her with a sarcastic smile, you add. “Oh, and Jake is a major dick.”

“Do you like him?” she asks with a smirk curling at the corner of her lips.

“Absolutely not!” you exclaim— rather loudly, at that.

Even you don’t believe the words that came out of your mouth, so why would she?

She just chuckles at your response, knowing better than that but deciding to not ask you about it any further, switching the topic to your project. “Tell me about this film you're doing,” she says.

“You won’t believe this but, I’m actually acting in it.”

“You? Acting? Okay, who are you and what have you done with my daughter?” she jokes, forcing a smile out of you.

“Just wait. It gets better,” you say. “I’m actually playing Guiniverre and Jake will be Arthur. It’s all about their adulterous marriage, and the focus will be on them cheating on each other. Quite romantic, huh?”

She begins to laugh again, trying not to wear out her weak lungs, but it doesn’t work. She gets caught up in a huge coughing fit, struggling to catch her breath.

This always happens; she can’t even laugh without her lungs giving her trouble. It shatters your heart. She’s always had the most contagious, obnoxious laugh. You miss the pure, unpunctured sound of it so much.

You reach for her oxygen mask and gently place it over her mouth. “Just breathe, mom. It’s okay, I’m here. Just breathe for me, in and out…”

As much as it scares you whenever this happens, it scares her even more. The look in her eyes makes you want to cry. It’s a look that says “please make this stop.”

You wish more than anything that you could.

It’s the moments like these that you want to curse your dad for leaving, for leaving his wife of almost twenty years like this.

She begins to calm down, her breathing slowing as she’s able to take full breaths again.

“You okay?” you ask.

She moves your hand and lifts the mask from her face. “Just fine, sweetie. Sorry about that.” Her voice sounds so frail, like she’s just run a marathon.

“Don’t apologize, Mom,” you lay a hand on your skinny thigh, squeezing reassuringly. “Please.”

She nods, then requests. “Tell me more.”

She doesn’t like to dwell on these things when they happen, so you start talking about the film and Jake some more.

“He’s got a younger brother named Sam, who’ll be playing Lancelot. Apparently, there are a few scenes between him and I in the script that are a bit… sensual, you could say.”

“Well, is he as cute as Jake?” she snickers.

“Mom! I never said Jake was cute.”

“Didn’t have to,” she says. “You think he is, I can tell.” Her grin says she can see right through you, and she’s not wrong. She never is.

“I haven’t met his brother yet, so I have no idea.”

You continue telling her more about the film, telling her about Natalia, but the conversation ends up taking a turn to being mostly (completely, actually) about Jake.

“He’s just intimidated by you, y/n. That’s why he acts the way he does, so you don’t know his true feelings.”

You just shrug it off, knowing she’s obligated by blood to tell you that. She’s just trying to make you feel better.

“Just wait,” she says. “He’ll come around.”

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

You look at your phone to check the time.

3:45 am. Ugh.

You’ve been in bed for hours desperately trying to sleep but your body just won’t relax.

You hated seeing your mom like that tonight. Watching her struggle to breathe… it's traumatizing every time it happens. And the episodes are becoming more and more frequent.

You just want her to be healthy again. You want to be able to have a normal conversation with her without worrying about making her laugh. It’s tearing you down, watching her wither away like this. It’s not fair.

You just wish there was more you could do.

Along with the stress of that, you also keep hearing Jake's voice on a loop in your head; “I’m only asking because my brother wants to go over a read through some of the script on Saturday…you know, for the film project.”

“I’m only asking…”

It’s the way he said ‘only,’ as if to say ‘don’t get your hopes up, that’s not what this is.”

Him posing that question (before you knew the true intent behind it) made you realize that— as much as you wish you weren’t— you’re somehow on the cusp of having feelings for him. And your conversation with your mom made that fact even more abundantly clear.

It’s most definitely not because of his winning personality.

No; it’s much different than that.

He brings about an air of mystery everywhere he goes. Every step he takes adds yet another layer to your curiosity about him.

And the way he acted when he asked you to be a part of his brother's film, how his face lit up in a whole new light. There’s a genuine man beneath his exterior— you can sense it. You just wish that were the Jake you’ve come face to face with nearly everyday since classes began a few weeks ago. That’s the side of him (if it is truly there and you’re not just making things up) that you want to discover.

He’s just… different. And you're annoyingly drawn to it. You're completely drawn to it.

You’ve never met anyone like him— let alone anyone that looks like him. As much as you hate to admit it, he is the personification of the female gaze. And his ridiculous attire, complete with his open shirts that display his necklaces on top of his bare chest— and yes, even his sunglasses that you try (but fail) to hate— all make it incredibly difficult to not find him attractive.

He’s beginning to consume your every thought, and you’re so mad at yourself for it.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

Saturday.

You’ve spent the entire week dreading today, contemplating backing out more times than you can count. Jake has been increasingly rude to you since your encounter with him on Monday. He’s spoken one or two words to you throughout the course of the week, but that’s about it.

Again, you're wondering why the hell you agreed to do him any favors.

If it wasn’t for this fucking project in fucking Movack’s class…

Without the consistent convincing from Natalia, you would have backed out. No question about it.

“Just make it through Saturday, y/n,” she said. “And if you still feel this way, tell him you want to do something else for your project. He’ll have to understand.”

You told her you’d do it, but only if she agreed to go with you. Thankfully, it didn’t take much convincing on your part and she happily accepted your terms.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

You bring your fist up to knock and wait a moment; nothing.

You feel as though you’ve given it ample time, so you knock yet again.

Finally, the handle on the door twists and is opened by, of course, Jake.

You embarrassingly stare a few seconds too long, not able to find words.

Unenthusiastically, he breaks the silence, “Welcome to our humble abode.”

He holds the door open as you and Natalia walk through the threshold together. Immediately upon seeing the place, you’re in a state of pure shock.

You’re not sure what you expected of Jake's home, but a two story, industrial loft apartment— massive loft apartment— right in the heart of downtown Detroit, was most surely not the first thing on your list. Natalia told you it was nice, but you weren’t prepared for this.

How do three college students manage to afford this?

The ever plaguing mystery continues.

It’s like walking into a photoshoot for a prestigious interior design magazine. This place doesn’t even look real.

Your eye is instantly caught by the decor. A tasteful mix of bohemian and modern rustic. The red brick walls lead to tall ceilings covered with exposed steel piping, adding so much unique character to the place. Trailing vines line the huge windows, casting the living room in an almost sage glow.

Jake ignores you, (shocker) as he heads into the kitchen and opens the refrigerator. “Well that’s just great,” he says, taking out a can of Miller Lite and turning to face Natalia. “The least your brother could do is restock our beer when he takes the last one.”

She just snickers in response.

Suddenly a loud bang comes from a room up the long staircase, followed by a pair of animated giggles.

Jake turns his head slightly in the direction of the commotion, mumbling “fucking imbeciles” quietly to himself, but loud enough that you heard it.

“What the hell was that?” Natalia asks.

“Our moronic brothers,” Jake grumbles.

Then, a man with a set of wild, messy curls on top of his head jogs down the stairs, giggling while struggling to keep his footing.

“What were you doing up there?” Jake demands.

“Do you really want to know?” the curly haired one says, wiping his shiny lips with the sleeve of his shirt before smoothing down his disarrayed mustache.

“Nope. Not one fucking bit,” Jake scoffs.

Jake then nods his head in your direction, letting him know that you and Natalia have arrived.

“Well hello, my dear Natalia!” he says, pulling her into a hug.

Then, he catches your eye.

“Ah hah!” he shouts, giving you a long look. “You must be our queen! Lovely to meet you, m’lady,” He grabs your hand and kisses it before making a dramatic display of bowing before you. “If I may be so bold, the name is Josh. Sir Josh of the Frankenmuth, Michigan sector— at your service.”

This is Josh? The other half of Jake?

There’s no way. Sure, they have the same face. Well, besides the addition of a mustache and goatee to Joshs, but still. Clearly they’re identical, but so starkly different from one another.

You look over to Jake, noting a slight irritated look from him. Ignoring it, you meet Josh in a hug.

“It’s so nice to meet you!” You throw a little extra emphasis on ‘so’, looking at Jake once more and picking up on his eye roll— even from behind his sunglasses.

You’re remembering your first encounter with Jake—how it was so vastly different from right now as you’re meeting his twin for the first time.

You instantly felt welcomed with Josh, while with Jake, you felt like a major inconvenience. (And admittedly, you still do.)

How can they be so different, yet look the exact same?

He’s even dressed like the perfect contrast of Jake.

Jake is clad in his usual monochromatic look—sunglasses, black button down and all. (How many of these fucking shirts does the man own, for godsake?)

But Josh, on the other hand— he’s wearing a stark white sweatshirt and skin tight khaki pants, pulled together aesthetically with high top tennis shoes that mimic the brightness of his top.

They are the personification of yin and yang standing before your very eyes.

“Would you like a drink?” Josh offers. “We have beer, wine—”

Jake interrupts him, yelling, “There’s no more beer!” as he takes a long sip out of his can.

“Okay then, no beer.” Josh chuckles. “Well we have water, of course. But that’s far too boring. I'd be happy to mix you one of my world-famous cocktails if you’d like.”

“Take it from me— if you don’t want to end up sloshed, do not let him make you a cocktail.” Another man makes his way down the stairs, stopping once he gets to Josh. He towers over him, being at least six inches taller. He’s awfully handsome, with the same kind, honey toned eyes that mimic those of your lovely friend standing beside you.

“My sweet, sweet Malachi. It’s okay to just admit that I make the most pristine drinks known to man.” Josh grabs his waist and tugs him close in an embrace.

“This would be my brother,” Natalia says.

“This is y/n?” He greets you with a hug, nearly lifting you off your feet. “It’s so great to meet you! You’re so kind to help with this.”

“I’m glad to help! I’m a huge Arthurian nerd, so this is right up my alley,” you say to him. “I just hope I can do Guinevere some justice. I’ve never really acted before.”

“I have no doubt in my mind that you’ll be great!” Josh chimes, “If you’re ready, I’ve got one of your costumes set up in Jake's room. Last door, straight down at the very end of the hall.”

Jake’s room?

“Okay! Sounds great. I’m really excited to see these. Nat told me they’re amazing,” you say, heading in the direction Josh told you his room is in.

Josh watches you leave, holding his hands up in a makeshift camera. “Yep. You’re the perfect vision for our Guin. Very pretty,” He playfully nudges Jake with his elbow, “You were right, my brother.”

What does that mean?

Jake’s cheeks become encompassed in a pink hue as he chokes on the beer he’d just taken a sip of.

“Why thank you, Sir Joshua,” you say as you turn around towards him to curtesy.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

You were nervous enough about being in his home, but his room? That is an entirely different story.

A person's room is the most personal, intimate space. The space that holds all their innermost secrets. Walking in feels like the ultimate intrusion.

Your stomach tightens as you turn the knob on his bedroom door.

Immediately, you're struck with the same scent he carries with him.

His whole room smells like it— like him.

You turn to shut the door behind you to have some privacy, catching a canvas portrait on the back depicting an iconic Edgar Allan Poe quote: “Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality.”

The room is dimly lit, with blackout curtains hanging over the windows—only a single lamp in the corner next to the bed illuminates the space.

The walls are lined with medieval artwork. Depictions of Ophelia and The Lady of Shalott, with a few famous pieces by the great Edmund Blair Leighton that you’d recognize anywhere. And, of course, no medieval artwork collection is complete without the classic portrait of Morgan Le Fey. She’s illustrated in her quintessential colorful attire, looking as enchanting as ever. A favorite or yours.

Your curiosity is certainly piqued as you notice a few books sitting upon his bedside table.

The Lord of the Rings series. A Tolkien fan— you’re not surprised in the least.

The Two Towers is splayed open to page 316 with the corners very gently dog eared.

Next to the book lies an opened notebook donned with scribbled detailings of what he’d read. Little footnotes and observations, brief analyses of chapters.

A smile dares to creep across the corner of your mouth— finding it incredibly nerdy, yet all at once completely endearing that he places so much care in what he reads.

You know next to nothing about this man, but one thing you do know— he loves literature. And you’d bet he loves it almost as much (if not slightly more) than you do. That truly says something.

On top of the table on the opposite side of the bed sits a small record player, the record sitting under the stilled needle— Electric Ladyland by Jimi Hendrix.

You skim a few other album titles placed on the shelf next to it, seeing the likes of Stevie Ray Vaughan, Eric Clapton, Janis Joplin; he’s a blues kind of guy.

You grew up on that very same music, all thanks to your mom. She made sure you were well versed on music from a very young age.

A dark red Gibson SG is perched on its stand right next to the table holding the record player. The scratches engraved on its body indicate heavy use— you can tell this thing is quite loved.

He’s… a guitarist?

God. The mystery surrounding this man is never ending. There’s so much you don’t know, so much you wish you did know.

Feeling as though you’ve explored far too much of his room, you decide to focus your attention on the garment bag laid out across the black velvet duvet across Jake’s bed.

You unzip it, your nerves exuding through your shaky hands at whatever you’ll discover inside.

You lift the dress out of the bag high above your head as the length reaches clear to the floor.

Holy shit.

When Natalia told you these costumes were amazing, she was understating to the highest degree.

Golden hand sewn lace embroiders the deep burgundy corset bodice. The square neckline is garnished with gold and red gems in the most intricate pattern, with the same jeweled design present on the cuffs of the long sleeves. The skirt, the same shade as the bodice, is silken and heavy and adorned with a similar gold design cascading all the way down to the hem.

Truly fit for a queen.

You can’t help but wonder where they possibly found this. It’s the most gorgeous gown you’ve ever seen— and you get to wear it.

Undressing yourself in Jake's room feels…strange. You feel vulnerable and exposed, but the butterflies in your belly are swarming at the thought— the thought of being only in your bra and panties in Jake’s bedroom.

Taking another look at the corset, you quickly learn that a bra is simply not an option for this dress. You remove it, feeling particularly risqué now being half nude in his room.

You lay the dress on the floor and step into the skirt one foot at time, lifting it up and carefully putting your arms through the sleeves.

You try tightening the laces of the corset, but without being able to see, it’s proving to be rather difficult. You know there’s not a chance you can get this situated yourself.

You decide to text Natalia to come help you, but as you go to look for your phone, you remember you left it sitting on the coffee table in the living room.

“Fuck,” you whisper to yourself.

You open the door and marginally peak your head out, calling for her to come lend you a hand with the dress.

“Sorry— should’ve warned you about that,” you hear Josh yell from across the apartment.

“You rang?” Natalia jokes as she makes her way down the hallway to you.

“This is fucking impossible to get on,” you huff, closing the door as she walks in the room.

She chuckles as she shoves your hands out of the way to take over tying the corset. “You’ve really got yourself in quite the mess here.”

She sinches it as tight as it will go, forcing the breath out of your lungs in one final tug of the laces.

“Jesus, Nat!”

“Oh you’re fine. God, you literature people are so dramatic.”

“You’re one of us too, you know,” you quip back.

She secures the ribbon tightly with a bow before she says, “I think you’re in. Turn around, let's see what we’re working with.”

You run your hands down your torso and up to your chest, feeling the constriction present against your breasts as you turn your body to face her.

“Holy fucking shit, y/n. That’s what you’ve been hiding under those giant ass sweaters?” she marvels with arched eyebrows and wide unblinking eyes.

You haven't seen yourself yet, and judging by how snug the top of this dress is hugging you, you’re not exactly sure you’re ready to.

Pointing to the mirror leaned against the wall, she tells you, “Get your ass over there, you have got to see this.”

Years of body dysmorphia have set you up to hate everything you put on if it isn’t something that hides you. Tight fitting garments are your worst nightmare. You feel safe in things that conceal your figure, and being in something that doesn’t do that is forcing you to come face to face with the thing that terrifies you the most.

With a reluctant sigh, you slowly walk over to the large wooden oval floor mirror standing next to the matching dresser.

The first thing you notice upon lifting your eyes to meet your reflection— your breasts. From feeling them moments ago, you knew they were on full display, but you didn’t realize they’d be this exposed. One slightly questionable movement, and it’s all over.

The sleeves sit off your shoulders, leaving them exposed with the rest of your chest.

Your eyes trail down to your waist that is being held tightly by the corset, your figure finally being exposed.

“O-oh god…” you quietly stammer. “I look…”

“Insanely hot.” Natalia interrupts.

“…I look fucking ridiculous.”

“What the hell are you talking about, y/n?” she demands.

“This isn’t flattering…not in the slightest.” You bring your arms up to fold them over your chest. You can’t hide as easily as you would like to in this get up— and the thought of being filmed in this has your stomach in a nauseous hold.

She walks closer to you and gently brushes your arms, motioning for you to put them down— to stop hiding.“You’ve got to be kidding me, y/n. This dress was made for you.” She adjusts your right sleeve a bit, smoothing down a few wrinkles. With a tender voice, she asks, “What could you possibly not like about this?”

“I’m not you, Nat. I can’t pull this off like you could.”

“Do not start that shit with me, girl.” She sounds more stern this time. “Just because you don’t look like me, does not mean you aren’t fucking beautiful. If I have to spend all night convincing you that you’re gorgeous, I will.”

Natalia is the kind of person you’ve needed in your life, your whole life. She just gets you, and she always has the right thing to say at any given moment.

Not wanting to make this moment any more about yourself than you already have, you simply say, “Thank you, Nat.”

You reach for a hug and she pulls you in, saying “You’re welcome. Now, get yourself out there. I can’t wait to see the look on these boys’ faces.”

Just in time, a knock sounds against the bedroom door. “Uh ladies? Time is of the essence!” Josh jokingly yells from the hallway, snapping being heard through the wall.

You’re standing completely still, fear keeping you frozen on your feet. She notices and motions for you to move.

“You first,” you tell her.

She playfully rolls her eyes and agrees. Opening the door, she says, “Let’s go, your highness. Your kingdom awaits your arrival.”

You follow her down the hallway, hiking the skirt of your dress up as it’s far too long for you. You're so anxious to let Jake (and the other guys— but mostly Jake) see you like this. Petrified, really.

You’re afraid of his reaction, that it won’t be what you want it to be— that he’ll act disgusted.

But all the same, you want him to see. Maybe this will change his mind. Maybe he’ll think you look as good as Natalia says.

You can only hope, anyways.

Natalia pulls out all the dramatic stops to introduce you. “Gentlemen, I present to you, your queen.”

She stands to the side as you walk forward into the living room. Josh is sitting on the couch next to Malachi, both of them with large smiles across their faces at the sight of you. They each fawn over you, telling you how immaculate you look. Josh praises Malachi over and over for managing to get them the perfect gown, “The sizing is impeccable!” he tells him. Then he winks at Natalia. “Thanks for getting her sizes for us, Natty!”

You hear them, but you’re hardly paying them any attention as you’re stuck scanning the room for Jake, but to no avail. He’s nowhere to be seen. To say the very least, you’re full of disappointment.

“Well, fuck me,” you hear a voice say, one that you’re not quite so familiar with.

You snap your head in the direction of the voice to see a man— who looks a little like Jake?— leaning up against the floor to ceiling window in the dining room.

“Seriously, Sam?” Natalia snaps, “Where the hell are you manners?”

Sam— the Sam. The one you’ll be sharing the screen with the most.

It makes sense why he’d be chosen to play ever-romantic Lancelot. He’s a major flirt, quite fitting for the role. And— he’s fucking beautiful. Something you were not anticipating. (And something you hadn’t even thought about, with your mind being so overloaded with thoughts of Jake.)

While he doesn’t share the same similarities with Jake as Josh does, (they’re twins, so, obviously) you most definitely can’t deny the fact that they’re brothers.

Sam is a bit taller than the twins, his body shaped completely differently to accommodate his longer frame. His facial hair is quite similar to Joshs’, with his hair more the likes of Jakes'.

“Sorry, I can’t help myself when I see a pretty girl,” Sam blurts. “You sure you’re at the right place? Seems you should be galavanting in Hollywood looking like that.”

A heat rises to your cheeks at his compliment. You’re sure your face is nearly the color of the gown you’re in. He’s awfully bold— and you kind of like it.

His eyes stay fixed on you as he begins walking in your direction.

“I take it you’re y/n?” he asks, taking your hand and giving your knuckles a quick peck. “I’d say Jake made a good choice for our queen.” He looks into your eyes as he gives the back of your hand yet another kiss— this one a bit more involved.

You smile at the feeling of his mustache ticking your hand as he grins against the skin. “Thank you, Sam. I’m quite flattered,” you say, still giggling like a fucking school girl with a brand new crush.

“Oh Jesus Christ,” Nat quips with a stark roll of her eyes.

“This…THIS!” Josh shouts as he stands from the couch, trotting over to you and Sam. “The exact chemistry I was hoping for. You two just naturally have it— you exude it.” He grabs you both by the shoulders and pulls you both into a three-way embrace. “Sam, go put on your costume. We should run through a quick scene. I just have to see how this will play out.”

Josh is so giddy about it all that he plants a wet kiss to your cheek, saying with a sincere smile, “You really do look wonderful, you know.”

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

Josh led you all down a little pathway behind their apartment building that leads to a shrine of towering beautiful, old trees. The sun just barely breaks through the colorful leaves on their full branches, illuminating the mossy ground in a soft and subtle golden glow.

His vision for this particular scene with Lancelot and Guinevere is to take place in a forest setting, a “secret hiding place tucked away in the depths of nature's wonder,” as he put it.

You look around in awe; it’s though you’ve walked through the pages of an old story book. An enchanted forest, right in the middle of the hustle and bustle of the busy city. You would have never guessed this was hiding here. The perfect spot for a film– more importantly, it’s the perfect spot for lovers to enjoy their inconspicuous love affair.

“The lighting right now is unmatched,” Josh exclaims, taking note of the time so he knows when to come out when you’re ready to actually start filming. It’s just after 5:30, and with autumn nearly in full swing, it’s right at the beginning of golden hour. With the way the trees are shading the sun, it makes for the most beautiful, soft scene— almost lucent.

It reminds you so much of the serene road you’ve found for your morning treks to school each day. You feel the same way here as you do on that secret road; this will surely be a new favorite place of yours.

You’ve got the script in your hands, skimming through the scene Josh has highlighted for you.

Guinevere is sending Lancelot off to a jousting match, giving him her red scarf in secret to tie around his arm as a token. He must wear it during the game for good luck, and he’s meant to return it to her once he wins. A common medieval practice amongst lovers.

It ends with her wrapping her arms around him, enveloping him in a “deep, heated kiss to bid a farewell,” according to the script.

Oh god.

You read ahead a little. Apparently, this will be what gives their little love affair away. Arthur will recognize the scarf around Lancelot's arm as his wife’s, and the rest will be left to history. Angsty– wonderfully so.

“Right here,” Josh says. “This is perfect.”

He positions you and Sam in a spot that’s right in the middle of a circle of trees.

Sam's skin is glowing beautifully in this light, his dark eyes now several shades lighter as the sun catches them just right.

You can’t help but stare at him. He’s just so handsome, and he looks particularly regal in his costume. A white velvet, high collar top with white pants that are hugging him in all the right places, and a deep red cape draped over his broad shoulders— the same shade as your dress.

Is it historically accurate? Absolutely not. But it is most definitely serving its purpose of making him appealing to the eye, or making him lust worthy— which is exactly what Malachi was going for when he chose this get up.

His cape is meant to match your dress, symbolizing their affection for one another.

It’s brilliant, honestly.

Josh puts his hand on your shoulder, his perfectly round eyes meeting yours while he quietly says, “If you’re not comfortable with this, please don’t be afraid to tell me or Sam. Promise me you’ll say something.”

Sam looks at you with the same eyes as Josh, wanting to make sure you’re comfortable enough with everything before you start.

You smile at them both, patting Josh's hand that’s still resting gently on you. “I promise.”

“Okay, great. You guys ready?” Josh asks.

“I think so,” Sam says, looking down at you with heavy eyes and a sweet smile. “You ready, y/n?”

As you’d walked the path down here, Josh mentioned that Jake left to go get more beer while you were getting dressed. And… he’s still not back yet.

A part of you doesn’t want to do this without him here. Why? You wish you knew. It just doesn't feel right for some reason.

You look around at everyone once more to see if maybe he’s shown up and you just didn’t realize it.

You see Josh, Malachi and Natalia all standing around you— but no Jake.

Oh well…

Matching Sam's smile, you say, “Yep. I’m ready.”

Neither of you have your lines memorized just yet, so you both read directly from the script.

Sam begins the scene:

“My love. I accept this token and will wear it as I carry you with me, that with it wrapped around my arm, so as you are wrapped even tighter around my heart.”

Then you:

“With it carries the promise you will return to me, unmarked and whole. Again will you lie with me, again will you hold me as tightly as my token holds you.”

You know Sam is acting, but the way he’s looking at you as you say your line— he looks like he’s madly in love. It’s catching you off guard, making your knees weak as your voice trembles with the next line.

“Seal your promise of returning to me with your lips, my love. Kiss me and tell me it’s true that you will hold me again.”

With that, Sam drops his script to his feet. He lifts his hands to cup your face, holding it gently as his thumbs lightly sweep across your cheekbones. Your breath hitches, and you too, drop your script.

This… this suddenly doesn't feel like acting anymore.

He leans in slowly, his lips just beginning to brush over yours. You grip his shoulders, leaning in the rest of the way until, finally, your lips collide with his.

A kiss so sweet and tender. Not too deep, yet a far cry from a friendly peck.

He pulls away from you delicately, the sound of his lips breaking from yours the only one you can hear as silence lingers in the air around you.

As you look into his eyes, you notice something different, something real. Like he’s wanted to do that since he first laid eyes on you just a short while ago.

“Wow, y/n’s got some serious acting chops after all,” you hear Natalia say, slowly clapping.

But it’s abruptly interrupted by someone speaking.

“What— what the fuck is going on?” That voice… you know that voice without even looking away from Sam.

Jake. He’s back.

“Bravo, bravo!” Josh shouts while clapping his hands. “God. Beautifully done, you guys. I’d like to run through it just once more. Give me a little more passion this time.”

You finally look away from Sam, seeing Jake standing next to his twin with a bewildered look upon his face.

In his all black outfit, he really stands out amongst everyone, amongst the golden sun rays that shine down upon him.

He’s not wearing his sunglasses, and you’re once again spellbound by his eyes. Their amber tone heightened in the light.

He just looks so fucking good.

Sam is beautiful, but he’s just not Jake.

“Hello? Is anyone going to fill me in on this?” Jake asks again, motioning his arms toward you and Sam.

“We’re rehearsing a scene, Jake.” Josh retorts.

“Yeah? And what scene might that be?” Jake sounds quite unhappy, much to your confusion.

Josh picks up the script at Sam's feet, holding it open to the page you’re currently working on. “This one,” he says. “The one where she gives Lancelot her token. I wrote this weeks ago, Jake. Why are you acting like you’ve never seen it?”

Jake hastily takes the script from him and reads over the scene in question. “I swear I’ve never read this before.” He continues flipping the pages, going back and finding more scenes that will be shared between you and Sam. “Why the hell do they have so many of these scenes together? When did you decide on all of this?”

“Seriously, Jake?” Josh scoffs. “These scenes have always been there—,” he growls, using his hands to help communicate the emotions in his next words. “You clearly haven't read a word of the fucking script. Guinevere and Lancelot’s affair is the main focus, with some on Arthur’s affair with the maiden. We literally talked about this. Multiple fucking times.”

Jake gives the script back to Josh, fiercely rubbing his chin as he does so.

“Why are you so upset, Jake?” Josh asks.

“I’m literally not, Josh.”

“Uh, yes you are. You only rub your chin like that when you’re pissed.”

With a flair of his nostrils, Jake says, “Just get on with your goddamn rehearsal.”

“Just ignore them. They do this shit all the time,” Sam quietly says to you. “Ready to do this again?” he asks.

With your attention back on Sam, you smile and nod your head.

You do the scene again, much the same as you had before. But this time, with the watchful eyes of Jake, you feel a bit more… inspired.

“Kiss me and tell me it’s true that you will hold me again.”

Sam once again takes your face in his hands, leaning in close to you.

This time, instead of grabbing his shoulders, you opt to run your fingers through his hair.

Locking eyes with Jake, who’s standing perfectly in your view, you lift your face to crash your lips with Sam— much harder this time.

Josh wanted more passion, and he’s getting exactly that.

You push your tongue past Sam's plush lips, eliciting a soft grumble from deep in his throat.

His hands suddenly move from your face to your neck, his fingertips tracing the skin while leaving goosebumps in their wake. He then reaches down to your waist, pulling you tightly against his body.

This is no Guiniverre and Lancelot sharing a secret kiss in the middle of a hidden forest; this is you and Sam enjoying the hell out of each other.

But even as your mouth is fully enveloped with Sams, even with your tongues fighting for dominance with one another— your only thought… is Jake. Fucking Jake.

You situate your face just so, where you’re again able to look Jake in the eyes. He intensely glares as he watches you in a moment of pure desire with his brother— and he doesn’t look happy.

Incidentally, it's only adding fuel to your fire as your lips continue furiously attacking Sams.

You wrap your hands even tighter around his soft locks as his tongue is dancing with yours.

More beautiful, hushed moans escape Sam’s mouth straight into yours as you echo them right back to him.

He tastes like heaven mixed with a delicious honey sweet bourbon, he’s fucking delectable.

With a little hesitancy, (especially on Sam's part) the kiss breaks as you are forced to come back up for air.

Sam is still holding you close, so close that you can feel his enthusiasm between your bodies that’s thankfully being covered by the skirt of your dress.

“You’ve uh, got me in a bit of a predicament here,” he whispers, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

You look him in the eyes, biting your kiss swollen bottom lip. “I can tell. Pretty big predicament, huh.” Your new found bravery has taken even you by surprise.

Sam just smirks at you while everyone is left stunned at your performance.

“I… am so fucking pissed,” Josh says.

“Why, babe?” Malachi asks him.

“Because I didn’t bring my fucking camera. You two… you two were made to do this together. I really hope you can do that again. Holy shit. Bra-fucking-vo.”

“What do you think, y/n? Think we could do that again?” Sam asks you. Although it’s clear he isn’t referring to the film.

Looking at Jake, his jaw clenched and his fists tight, you say, “Yeah.” You tear your eyes away from Jake, looking at Josh to finish. “I think we could do that again.”

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

A few weeks have gone by, and most things are going very well with the production.

Josh is a fantastic director (albeit, a little too bossy at times). Their sweet friend Daniel wound up being a great cameraman, getting shots of you that didn’t make you completely cringe at first glance. Then there was Malachi, who is consistently helpful, just like his sister. Sam, the perfect scene partner— so attentive and great at checking in with you between takes.

And Nat, ever the loyal friend, has still been coming to rehearsals with you. She hasn’t missed a single one, and her support has meant the world to you. Each time you feel a rush of insecurity washing over you, she’s there to talk you through it and be the encouragement you need.

The only part of these rehearsals that’s getting extremely old is how much Jake inserts his “constructive creative criticism.”

On more than one occasion, you’d shoot daggers in his direction and remind him that he’s not the director and to leave it to his brother. To which he’d respond with a scoff, palms planted, strong on his hips, and turn to leave the room in a huff.

Then there are the arguments between the twins… which have been growing in intensity. Some days production ends because the two of them just refuse to see eye to eye, making it impossible to get through a single scene.

You have to admit— these two are rather passionate about their work.

You just wish they’d stop arguing long enough to showcase their talents.

The most memorable day on set as of yet was the day Jake's costume had finally arrived.

He’d been taking far too long to get dressed in his attire, causing Josh to succumb to a near full meltdown. The sun was setting and Josh was adamant about getting at least one scene with Arthur shot outside.

Jake, however, was extremely unhappy with the costume that was chosen for him. He refused to walk out in it, claiming it was nothing like what he had pictured for the character. “This isn’t Arthur,” he said. “This is a goddamn see-through crop top.”

And that had instantly piqued your attention. You’d walked around the corner of the hallway, Natalia leading the way. Thankfully— because she did not need to be privy to the fact that you were so curious.

Then, you saw him. Clad in his film outfit that was a cut off chainmail top, with its short, tight sleeves putting his muscular biceps on full display.

His pecks, (which you’ve caught yourself admiring a time or two before) looked particularly perked and rounded.

You also loved how sheer the top was, giving you a fantastic view of his skin underneath.

Jake clearly wasn’t happy about it, but you most definitely were.

“Goddamn…” you whispered to yourself, watching the way his arms flexed each time he adjusted his shirt. You couldn’t help it. He just looked so fucking sexy.

“I’m not wearing this, Josh.” Jake asserted. “Nope. This is ridiculous.”

“Yes you are, Jake. It’s only for a few scenes, then you can wear the outfit you chose.” Josh blurted. “And I told you we’d get you a black cloak to wear. Will that make you feel better?” You noted a bit of sarcasm in his voice.

“Fuck no,” Jake said. “And why the hell does Sam get to have my sword for so many of his scenes?”

The argument continued on, and almost an hour later, Jake finally gave in. But, it was too late. The sun had gone down, and you were all ready to call it quits for the night.

“Well, a fucking wasted day. Thanks an awful lot, Jake.” Josh shouted as he stomped up the stairs.

They were able to shoot that scene the very next day, and as usual, they acted as if nothing had happened.

It’s pure whiplash with these two. One minute they’re cussing each other out, on the verge of throwing fists; the next, they’re making each other laugh so hard they’re nearly rolling on the floor.

Outside of filming, Jake has remained stoic– ignorant to your existence.

At school, he acts as though you don’t exist– only acknowledging you if he absolutely has to. For instance, before you can even try to get a word in before or after class, he’s already shooting up out of his seat before you have time to even think about standing up.

And similarly, at rehearsals, your conversations are limited to one or two words here and there, besides the incessant critiques he tosses around after your scenes.

Sam, however, has given you nothing but praise after praise. His flirting hasn’t let up— and you’ve been dishing it right back any chance you get.

You had ultimately decided if Jake wouldn't give you the time of day, you’d give it to someone who will. Who just so happens to be Sam.

Although, it lends more material for Jake’s reproval. The comments he’d make about it were aggravating at best.

“Can you show us all some fucking respect, please?”

“We’re trying to get work done.”

“Do you want us all to have failed projects because you two can’t stay fuckin’ focused?”

And, to every response, Josh shut him down, scolding him for being an asshole.

“You’re going to chase away my muse, Jake. Please, cut the shit,” he’d roll his eyes, messing with the sides of his hair, fluffing it, cutting a glance at his twin. “I’m tired of you acting like a child. You’re the one causing us to lag with the ridiculous comments.”

The comments did distract you a little from the scenes you knew were coming up rather quickly on the filming schedule… but his remarks also added unnecessary anxiety to the overall atmosphere for you. In which case, Sam would be the one to make you feel better, bringing you right back to him.

The particular scene that’s hurtling towards you is happening later this week. You’re filming a brand new scene with Sam that will be far more intimate than anything you’ve filmed thus far.

Josh wanted to give you time to adjust to everything and feel completely comfortable before he introduced this part of the film.

You’re still nervous about it, but your eagerness to see the film through has you ready to give it a go.

The day before the filming of the scene, you go about things like normal. You have so much fun rehearsing with Sam; Nat and Malachi watch in awe as the scene flows flawlessly between the two of you, like it normally does.

And today, it’s easier because Jake had been strangely absent. But, it hadn’t been better. Because no matter him being so irritating, you had sort of missed looking up at him, mid-scene with Sam. It had become oddly normal to find his eyes while meeting Sam’s lips.

After finishing a rather long rehearsal, Josh reminds you in passing that you’ll be wearing a brand new costume for tomorrow’s shoot.

And you figured today was as good a day as any to give it a peek.

Walking to Jake’s room to locate it, you sent Nat a quick text that you were heading there. She’d slipped away with Malachi to discuss costumes, but you knew if you ended up trying the costume on that you’d need her there to help (or at the very least, encourage).

Jake’s room has become designated for your costumes, of which he has expressed ample irritation about. Just one more thing for the twins to fight about.

You’re actually starting to believe that Josh made it that way just to spite Jake.

Once you make it there, the stark red garment bag is hanging on the closet door, awaiting you. It’s the other one that had been laid out on Jake's bed that first day you came over.

That day had slipped away from all of you with Josh’s insistence that you and Sam re-rehearse the kiss, over and over. So, you never got the chance to try it on.

You had hesitated looking at it since that day, though, because Nat forewarned you that this costume was much more revealing than the last, and knowing that, you haven’t really been in any hurry to try it on.

Lifting up on your tiptoes the slightest bit, you grab the garment bag that holds the brand new, different costume that Malachi has specially picked for you.

Nat had fortunately gotten the text and had made it in time to help you remove the corset dress, carefully placing it back in its garment bag.

Left in your black thong, lacking a bra from your prior costume, you look at the other bag, now laying on the bed. Your stomach sinks to your knees at the possibility of what’s hiding beneath the red canvas.

“Just how bad is it, Nat?”

The anxiety you faced trying on the first dress weeks ago is now creeping its way back in. You’re scared stiff for a moment, staring down at the costume still hidden beneath the red fabric.

“You’re overthinking it, y/n,” she says. “Just open it and find out. All I can tell you is you’re going to look unreal.”

Not wanting to draw this out any longer, you start unzipping the bag, slowly revealing the black lace that was tucked away inside.

You pull on the hanger to take it out of the bag fully.

A long black gown of intricate lace and chiffon— a lavish, luxurious piece of… lingerie. The gown exposes skin, hiding just beyond the cloth. Tight at the bust and waist, and flowing out at your hips.

The neckline is completely open and plunges down to the waist. The mesh material decorated with an elaborate floral design— is utterly see-through. The front of the gown is held together with only a black satin ribbon tied in a bow.

“Holy shit, y/n,” she gasps, admiring every piece of your body she can see. “You look like a piece of fucking artwork. Utterly gorgeous, honey.”

“God, Nat…” You hold it up to your body, running your fingers over the long, bell sleeve. “I really don’t know about this.”

“Josh told you if you don’t like it, they’ll find you something else. But you should at least try it on, see what you think,” she says.

You’re scared of putting it on and absolutely despising your body; you’ll be forced once again to face all of the things you don’t love about it— you won’t be able to hide in this. Not at all.

But, you promised Josh and Malachi you’d try it. And Nat is right— they have assured you over and over again that if you’re not happy with something, they’ll fix it. No questions asked. Josh asks you every single day if you’re comfortable with everything, and he’s made it abundantly clear over the course of the production that you must tell him if there’s anything you don’t like.

Clearing your mind of any more thought, (because you’ll overthink yourself to the death if you don’t) you untie the sash, placing the gown over your body.

As you suspected, there's nothing left to the imagination.

The lace just barely covers your breasts, laying completely open down to your belly button— and you’ve suddenly become hyper aware of the fact that your nipples are peeking through the sheer fabric.

“Please tell me they have pasties for me, because this,” you grumble, pointing to your chest, “is not going to work for me.”

Initially you’re talking about your nipples that you can see through the sheer fabric, but you figure there’s no use in hiding what’s on your chest from Nat. Something you would also like to be covered from eyes that you can’t fully trust yet. So, you lift your breast the slightest bit to also expose the red ink lying beneath the supple flesh.

Redrum, in dark red ink etched along the curve underneath your right breast.

Your best kept secret is no longer hidden with the likes of this dress.

“Is that…. a tattoo?”

You had decided on an impulse one night (after a few too many drinks) that you wanted a tattoo. It had been a hard week of treatments for your mom, while also simultaneously being the week that you found out about your acceptance to U of M. And you had figured you might as well do something for you— both to celebrate and distract yourself from the sad reality of your mother’s decline.

No one knows about it (save for Natalia now). Not even your mom. It was gotten with the intent to be something special for you and only you. A part of your body that you could find comfort in despite your dislike for your build— something about yourself to be comfortable with.

And being the massive Stephen King and Kubrick fan that you are, you decided on a tattoo that solidifies your love for The Shining. Both the book and the film have carried through some incredibly tough times in your life, so you can’t really say you regret the permanent decision. But, you like that it’s something sacred for just you.

“Yeah,” you say, tracing your finger along the flesh like you do nearly everyday. Just to ground yourself. “Important to me for several reasons. No one knows about it. You’re the first to know I have it actually.”

She nods in approval. “I’m honored,” she says, a sweet grin highlighting her features. “And I’m totally here for it.”

You really weren’t ready for everyone to see it yet, though.

“Do you think there’s something that we could cover it up with?”

She is already walking to the door as you ask, ready to help however she can.

“I’m going to check with Malachi,” she says, one foot out the door. Then she steps back inside the room, shutting the door to a crack before she whispers. “I won’t tell anyone about it. I’ll just say I wanna snoop through Josh’s Ben Nye.”

“You’re the best Nat,” you feel tears well in your eyes.

You’ve never had a friend as wonderful as Natalia, and with every small thing she did to help, it solidifies how grateful you are for her.

When the door closes behind her, you decide to bite the bullet and look at yourself once more.

Your thoughts begin to torment you, but you combat them with Natalia’s words.

“You look like a piece of fucking artwork. Utterly gorgeous, honey.”

You wish so badly you could eternally shut the thoughts off long enough to see yourself the way others see you, especially in these stunning costumes that you should feel beautiful in.

Someone as lovely as Nat— inside and out— complimenting you in the way she has, you should feel inclined to believe her; she’s not just telling you what she thinks you want to hear. She’s the most genuine person you’ve yet to meet and the last person to ever bullshit you.

A few heavier tears have begun to form, threatening to fall at any moment as you take in your image in the mirror.

You do look beautiful.

For the first time in god knows how long, you can see your beauty reflecting back to you, effectively telling your ever intrusive thoughts to ‘fuck off’ once and for all. And it’s not just in your body, it’s in you. The beauty within yourself that fully encompasses who you’ve grown to become as a woman.

You’ve been through some tough ass shit— had to go through things that you wish you hadn’t had to… and you’re still standing here to speak of it. That, in and of itself, is an accomplishment that shows some sort of beauty and resilience flowing from inside of you.

It doesn’t feel right acknowledging these things. You’re not used to it. But at this moment, it feels okay. Feels good. You let yourself have it for now.

You normally wouldn’t dare be caught in something like this (let alone allow yourself to be on camera) but now, you’re actually excited. You never would have guessed you had a passion for acting, for playing a character so vastly different from who you are in real life. You’re glad to have somehow stumbled upon this whole thing; it’s helped you find the confidence in yourself that you’ve been desperately searching for your entire life.

Moving the material covering your thighs the slightest bit, you reveal your leg, flexing it and admiring the taut flesh there. The feminine way your body is built complimenting the lean muscle that’s been built from hard work over time— working your ass off to get to where you wanted to be. Then, you poke your ass out, turning the slightest bit, you see the plush skin of your ass through the thin, dark material. You take the briefest second to appreciate the way it looks, round and full at the top of your thighs. Usually you would hate acknowledging that—hate. it.—but right now? It’s something sort of… sexy, seeing it. It’s hidden away beneath the flowing material, but wholly visible as well.

It’s mysterious and you like it. The gown acknowledges parts of your body, without putting it on full display and it’s honestly everything you needed. It helps you to accept the curves you usually curl your lip at.

Just then, as you stand there with your leg completely out of the slit, you hear the handle on the door turn and the door slowly creak as it’s being opened from the other side.

Nat must’ve found the makeup for your little secret. You hold your breast in preparation to cover the ink, but don’t immediately turn around towards the door. Part of you, wanting her to see this new found confidence you’ve discovered within the confines of this gown.

“I am so fucking glad you talked me into trying this on. I would have never if it weren’t for you— “

The sound of a throat being cleared of tension is made, interrupting you before you’re able to get the rest of your words out.

With a slight cock of your head in the direction of the door, your hair waving around your shoulders in the process, you realize… it’s not Nat standing on the threshold.

Stunned, frozen solid in your position that exposes your leg all the way up to the round flesh of your ass peeking through, you realize that standing where Nat should be… is Jake.

He’s as still as you, with one hand still on the doorknob and the other tightly gripping the frame on the other side.

You half expected him to shut the door immediately upon seeing you, but he didn’t. He’s just standing there, eyes trailing your barely clothed figure.

You should say something. You should tell him to get the fuck out and give you some privacy. But as you attempt to open your mouth to do so, nothing comes out.

His eyes linger on your face for a time, but eventually, they start trailing from your feet, up your legs, over your hips and taut stomach. You’re hardly breathing, but your chest is still heaving short breaths…

It becomes obvious to you that you like how his eyes feel on you. How he’s observing every inch of your body that you’re feeling brave inside for once…

You want him to see, to see you exactly like this.

Suddenly, your nipples harden when his dark, whiskey colored eyes (sans sunglasses, thank fucking god) find your shapely breasts outlined by the fabric just barely hiding them. The hand covering the round flesh tightens in an attempt to conceal the tattoo, but you’re longing to release the hand and show him all of you.

But you know better. So your hand stays firm, but you let your erect nipple peek through the fingers splayed across your chest.

You hear footsteps quickly stomping down the hall, becoming louder as they get close to Jake’s room.

“Jake! What the fuck are you doing?” Nat’s hand reaches out from nowhere, takes his arm and shoves him clear of your sight. Successfully breaking your lust ridden trance. “Give her some fucking privacy, godammit!”

And as you stood there, Nat giving Jake a piece of her mind, you can’t ignore how hot and bothered you’d become. You rub your thighs together, searching for a hint of friction from whatever had just transpired between you and Jake, longing for more of it.

Your friend finally comes in, adamantly running her mouth about how irritated she is by Jake’s intrusion, but you don’t hear her words.

Because you feel the complete opposite of her. In fact, you want to push her out of the room and bring Jake back to finish what had just barely begun.

“God, he’s a fucking idiot. I’m sorry about that,” she says as she begins rubbing the stage makeup on the skin of your tattoo, you imagine briefly that her fingers are Jake’s…

Then, feeling your nipples begin to harden from the thought, you clear your throat. Fuck. Too far.

Cover, cover, cover…

She can’t know.

“Damn,” you shake your head, your cheeks hot. “Why do they always keep it so cold in here?”

Thankfully, she doesn’t seem to notice a shift in dynamic as she laughs.

“I know, girl,” she snorts, a curl falling in front of her eye that she blows away. The breath makes your skin prickle with goosebumps. “Malachi is always giving Josh shit about it.”

She finishes blending out the makeup, adding a little powder on top to set it.

“I’d say we’ve got you pretty well covered. Take a look, tell me what you think.”

You turn back to face yourself in the mirror, and right before you’re able to look at your reflection, a picture sitting on the dresser catches your eye.

It’s of the three brothers— Josh, Sam, and Jake… their arms around each other as they smile wide.

But you can only look at Jake’s face, his smile so beautiful and bright in the image.

“Yeah, it looks great,” you say, eyes fixed on Jake’s handsome face, smiling back at you. “Looks really good.”

a/n: any thoughts as to why Jake is being so horrible during this film production? 🤔

buckle up, we've only just begun. ;)

if you'd like to be tagged, follow this link or let me know & i'll be sure to add you. 🤍

love you all so much.

taglist:

@jakeyt @alwaysonthemend @sacredjake @jakesgrapejuice @misshunnybee @reesetrippingthelight @way-to-go-lad @iffypanic @sinarainbows @klarxtr @brinlygvf @stardustjake @gretavanbear @gvfmelbourne @sinsofstardust @literal-dead-leaf @livkiszka @gvf-ficreads @jaaakeeey @capturethechaos @neptune2324 @jaketlove @thetroublegetssoloud71 @myleftsock @sanguinebats @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @joshskittytickler @violet-hayes @aflame4goinghome@heckingfrick @fitalich @starshine-gvf @audgeppp @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @nina-23-45 @torniturntomyarrow @beautifulcrayola @writingcold @welllauragvf @loveisonaroll @itsafullmoon

I’m fairly certain I’ve included everyone but if I’ve forgotten you, please let me know! (& i sincerely apologize)

#jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fanfiction #sam kiszka x reader #sam kiszka fanfiction #jake kiszka smut #sam kiszka smut #jake kiszka fic #sam kiszka fic #jake fic #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #danny wagner #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet smut #gvf fic #gvf fanfiction #gvf smut #greta van smut #le morte d’arthur

166 notes · View notes

letters-from-dekarios · 10 days

Text

fighting fate

summary: you had some choice words for your friend who set you up on a not-so-blind date. but, because it went well, you decide to meet with him again. it’s not long before the spark reignites like when you first met, and you can’t help but fall for him.

or: you go on a second date with gale

word count: 5.5k

tags: *this is a sequel to ‘a blind date with a wizard’, you do not have to read it before this one :)* gale x implied f!reader/afab!reader, astarion and shart are terrible wingmen, elf!reader, fluff, some small angst, mildly medium burn, alcohol usage, wyll is also there and also your ex, omg karlach is also there

author’s note: this is my little disclaimer that i personally love wyll! i’m just using him as a plot point since there’s not many other main chara options that haven’t been mentioned already (that i would use in his place). its for the plot guys i swear i’m a wyll lover too

Okay, maybe you couldn’t be mad at Astarion and Shadowheart. Yes, they betrayed your trust by setting you up on a faux blind date with their wizard friend who already knew your entire life story. And yes, they did not take accountability for their lies and instead kept asking if you enjoyed yourself. But, their little plan worked, and you were scheduling a second date with the man they set you up with.

“I am still pissed at you both. Especially you, Astarion,” You glared at your friend as he flipped through outfits in your closet. Shadowheart was busy doing your makeup, turning your face back towards her.

“Look, you can’t stay angry forever. You needed someone to get your mind off of Wyll. I just did what I do best,” he replied, holding up one rather… skimpy outfit that you turned your nose up at.

“Lying? You could’ve at least told me a little about him so I didn’t feel so mortified! You told him all about Wyll and when I tried to vaguely mention that I had a bad breakup, he already knew all about it!” You huffed, and Shadowheart grabbed your chin to steady your face. She gave you a cautionary look as she got underway applying your eyeliner, her hand steady and precise. She had cast duplicity to do both sides at the same time, which made the process much easier.

“Sweetheart, if you knew half the things about him you’d refuse to meet with him. I kept you in the dark so you can see for yourself who he is,” Astarion held up another outfit, one a bit more casual but still would be pretty on you. You nodded in approval and Shadowheart nearly had an aneurysm.

“If you don’t stop moving your damn head I’m going to let you leave here looking like a sibriex,” Shadowheart warned you again, and you took heed of her notice this time.

With your makeup done and your outfit fresh, all you had to do was wait for Gale to arrive. The two of you had been back and forth for weeks now, mostly updating each other on current things you were up to. A few days prior, with your schedules finally open, he had sent word of when he’d like to take you out and you responded as soon as you could. Now, you waited for the date to commence.

“You can at least thank us for our assistance in getting you out of the house. Had I not convinced you to go on that blind date, you’d still be crying over Ravengard’s oldest disappointment,” Astarion remarked, and you snorted at the insult of a name.

You sighed after, messing with the ends of your hair. “You can’t blame me for being annoyed. You wouldn’t like it if I set you up with someone and told them you were a vampire before you could,” you raised an eyebrow at him knowingly. He couldn’t deny that you were correct on that front, but he wasn’t about to say that to you.

“Just be grateful he didn’t tell Gale about your little misadventures as a—“ Shadowheart began, and you quickly clamped your hand over her mouth, shushing her.

“Don’t mention that! It’ll bring bad luck to my date tonight,” you frowned, and both of your companions busted out in laughter.

You continued chatting until a soft knock sounded on the door, and you screamed internally. After getting up from the couch, you made your way to the door. You took a breath, eased your mind, and then opened it up for him.

“Hey,” you beamed at him, trying to contain your excitement. He bowed in acknowledgement and pulled out a small bouquet from behind his back.

“Good evening, my lady,” he smiled at you, extending the flowers in greeting.

You felt your face become hot while a small giggle left you. You took them from him and briefly smelled the assortment. “They’re lovely, thank you,” you replied, inviting him inside for a beat so you could set the flowers down.

“Well if it isn’t my favorite wizard of Waterdeep!” Astarion swung his legs over his chair, standing and heading towards him. He slumped his arm over Gale’s shoulders, patting his back. “Isn’t he just amazing, Y/N? Such a gentleman— is that bluestars I smell?” Astarion whacked him on the back once more, stepping around to you as he observed the flowers. Bluestars was a rather expensive perfume in Faerùn, costing over two hundred gold pieces for just a small bottle. You had never smelled it before, but you were sure you would later.

“Leave him be, Astarion,” you gave him a look, voice low to avoid Gale hearing you.

“Ah, I pay no mind to Astarion anyway,” Gale watched you as you placed the flowers neatly in a vase and filled it with water. “If I did, I sincerely doubt I’d be here at the moment,” he chuckled, and you beamed at the reply.

“You’re such a pain, Gale. You know that?” Astarion whined, before slipping back over to the couch.

“I’m sure he’s plenty aware,” Shadowheart called over her shoulder, focused on a book she had brought out.

“Thank you, Shadowheart, for your helpful insight on the matter,” Gale retorted, raising a hand to you once you were done with the bouquet. “Shall we?”

You took his hand, your face flushing again as he led you out the door. “We shall,” you answered, smiling sweetly at him.

“Bring her home before one!” Astarion called out as you both left.

“Oh, that may be difficult!” Gale retorted, allowing you to close the door behind you both as you departed.

“What, you plan on stealing me away for the whole evening?” You raised an eyebrow at him suspiciously, laughing as you interlocked your arms and he began to walk with you.

“Perhaps.. if you’d let me,” he nudged you gently, before leading you off to a small restaurant in the heart of the city.

“Hmm… it’ll depend on how this night goes,” you flirted, patting his arm tenderly. Soon enough, you were being seated inside the little restaurant, and looking over the menu. Everything looked… expensive. You didn't want to hurt the man’s coin pouch, assuming he was paying for it, but there weren't exactly any reasonable options, either.

“What are you getting?” You questioned, and he pointed to some mildly pricey menu item. That was your hint at expenses, and you picked a dish that sounded promising but wasn’t going to put you in debt if you ended up paying for yourself.

The date was filled with idle conversation, the two of you discussing parts of your home life here and there, commenting happily on the food you ate, and just sharing the good parts of yourselves. It was going great, extraordinary even.

Until he showed up.

Wyll Ravengard. You didn't even feel the eyes burning into the back of your head until you heard someone pleading with him to stop, attempting to keep him back. You flicked your attention over to the commotion, eyes going wide as you saw him. You wished you hadn’t made eye contact, that you’d minded your business, but you hadn’t. And now you had to deal with it.

You wanted to shrink down into yourself. Disappear into nothing- hide under the table like a small child. With the way things ended, how could you face him? He was a gentleman for your whole relationship— until he wasn’t. You couldn’t stand to see the face that spoke to you in such a way that night. No matter what influence he was under, what he did that night you broke up… you couldn’t forgive him.

You recalled the many nights after that fight, how depressed you had become. He tried several times to get your attention and apologize to you, but you were so wrapped up in yourself that it was hard to pay attention to anything. Some nights he was kindly about it, others he was swearing like a damned sailor who couldn't take no for an answer. You weren't sure who he had become, and no matter how hard he tried he was unable to reverse the past.

“Y/N!” He shouted your name, and you put your head in your hands. Maybe if you didn't see him, he would disappear.

“Wyll, please, not here-“ his friend Karlach, you recognized her as, tried to hold him back. But with his thrashing and flailing, he managed to worm his way free of her grasp.

“Impero te!” Gale moved to his feet quickly, and Wyll froze in place. You recognized the words as a command spell. It appeared Gale chose that over a holding spell, perhaps so he could speak with Wyll first. You knew it would wear off soon, so you placed your coin on the table and got up.

“Don’t you dare leave, Y/N!” Wyll exclaimed, and Gale turned to check up on you.

“I’m okay,” you reassured him, smiling faintly as you grabbed your things. “I’m just going to go outside for a minute.”

He nodded and waited for you to leave before his attention was on Wyll again.

You weren’t sure what happened after that, but only a little while later and both men were being tossed out by two guards you’d seen in the restaurant earlier. Gale’s face was down, his hand held up to his nose, and in the candle-lit street, you could faintly make out blood on his knuckles.

“You bastard!” Wyll ran to, presumably, take another swing, but Karlach grabbed him in time before he could.

“Gale-“ you rushed to his side, now that Karlach had a tight hold on Wyll, and checked him for any other injuries.

“I’m alright, I’m alright,” he soothed, despite the blood dripping down his face. You reached into the small bag you had brought and took out a cloth, gently wiping at his face.

“Does this jackass speak for you now, Y/N?” You heard Wyll snarl, followed by Karlach’s aggressive warnings for him to calm down.

“Mates, I’m really sorry for his behavior. I don’t know what’s gotten into him. Can I pay you back for the dinner?” Karlach surrendered, nodding down to a small coin pouch at her hip.

“It’s not your fault, you don’t need to pay for his stupidity,” you answered, moving Gale to sit down on a nearby bench. “Tilt your head back..” you instructed, a delicate motherly tone to your voice, and he did so, holding the cloth tight against his nose.

As you spun to face Wyll, you saw he was bloodied just the same. You had to hand it to Gale, he was more than just a gentleman. You sighed, composed yourself, and put on your bravest ‘what the fuck are you doing’ face.

“What do you want, Wyll?” You coldly asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

“You know what I want,” he huffed, still struggling in Karlach’s grasp.

“Actually, as a matter of fact, I don’t! It might surprise you, but I haven’t known what you wanted from me since the night we broke up. What could you possibly need from me after everything that transpired?” Your eyebrows furrowed together, irate with him. Thinking about that night hurt your mind and your heart, you’d much rather continue with your date like nothing happened. But, of course, the universe was always against you.

“Y/N-“ Wyll calmed slightly, his likely drunken stupor fading as he regained his senses seeing you like this. For a moment, he looked like how you remembered him. For a moment, he was yours again.

That quickly dissipated as he continued to speak, reaching towards you, begging, “I want you- I miss you. I should’ve never let this go, I should’ve never let that bastard get his hands on you. You’re mine, right? Like we used to say?”

You took a step back at his words, feeling sick to your stomach. After all this time, he still had that false hope he could get you back? That you still belonged to him? And what was worse, he called Gale a bastard. Again.

“I’ll have you know that bastard back there, is twice the man you ever were. I suggest you rethink your ownership because, to my knowledge, I belong to myself. I was finally- finally!- feeling free from your grasp and here you go, trying to steal my peace from me.” you clasped your hands together, groaning out in frustration before running a hand down your face. “I was done with you a long time ago, Wyll. Please, for the love of all of Faerún, let. Me. Go. Drop this faux apology and the pathetic act and move on with your life. That was embarrassing!” You sighed, running a hand down your face. The arguing in public was only adding to your humiliation, though many passersby just assumed you all were drunk.

“Y/N-“

“No, Wyll!” You cut him off, waving a hand dramatically to silence him. “I was so happy to be finally moving on from you and rebuilding myself after you left me in pieces and you had to come here and ruin it! You had to smash me to bits all over again! I just want to be happy, and you can’t even let me have that?” You could feel tears welling in your eyes, but you pushed them down like all your other worries. “Please, go home. Go away. I don’t want to talk to you, I don’t want to see you anymore, I want to go home. Without you.” It seemed that those final words got to him, and he realized his defeat.

As much as you had loved him in the past, he was no longer who you loved now. It was beyond you to change him to become the man he used to be, and you cried for the day he would find the love he would become that for. You wished he could do that for you but you knew it wasn’t right. It wasn’t even worth it anymore. Besides, you had to get Gale home and cleaned up anyway. What good would worrying about Wyll do for you?

“You’re sure you don’t want any coin, mate? I feel awful about all of this,” Karlach offered again, and you waved her off.

“Get him home safe, that’s all I ask,” you replied, and they were off. You watched as Wyll’s sad, defeated eyes stayed locked with yours until they were far enough away, and your heart broke all over again.

Gale knew when not to meddle in things that didn’t concern him, so he left that talking up to you. It was not his place to speak to Wyll for you, but his charming act of heroism in punching the shit out of Wyll was plenty for you.

You took another breath, unclenched the fists you had unknowingly created, and returned to Gale’s side.

“How are you doing?” You asked him, kneeling in front of him as he laughed softly.

“As good as a man with a broken nose can be. You don’t happen to have any healing potions on you, do you?” He replied, smiling at you.

“Not here, but I have some at home,” You offered, and he shook his head no to that.

“I’d rather not return to Astarion’s commentary on my little.. quandary here,”

You pondered for a moment, and then a metaphorical lightbulb appeared over your head. “Vis medicatrix,” you chanted, placing your hand on his arm to heal the wound. Blue light emitted from your palms and eyes for a moment and then faded. Why you hadn’t thought of that prior, you had no idea.

“There. How do you feel now?” You repeated, and Gale lowered the cloth from his nose. He breathed in and out a few times, and then nodded in satisfaction.

“You’re quite good at that,” he chuckled, trying to wipe off as much blood from his face as he could. His knuckles were covered in Wyll’s blood, you noted, and you were oddly surprised Gale didn’t have more marks on him from whatever took place inside.

“What even-“

“Perhaps later.”

You pursed your lips in understanding, standing straight as you waited for him. Where would you head off to now? He looked a mess, and you could hardly stand to be around everyone who had just witnessed what occurred. What would people say? They undoubtedly recognized Ravengard’s son, so what would the rumors tell about you? Those were worries for a later time.

“There’s a travel sigil nearby if you’d like to head to my home in Waterdeep with me,” Gale offered, and you interlocked your arms again when he stood up.

“I’d like that,” you agreed, letting him guide you home.

After a bit of walking and some magical travel, you were inside Gale’s rather lavish tower in Waterdedl. The walls were practically lined from floor to ceiling with books, showing his studious nature. The smell of thousand-year-old tomes and scrolls filled your lungs, mixed with the neverending hint of brandy and vanilla. He took good care of his belongings, despite his continued apologies over what he considered a mess. Though, the only clutter you saw was that of a well-studied scholar. It was impressive just how many books he had, and you wondered if he really had read all of them.

“I believe I have a bottle of Ithbank somewhere around here, let me get myself cleaned up first,” Gale offered, and you had half the nerve to speak up.

“Let me help you,” you proposed, and he smiled at you. That cheeky, knowing smile, akin to one Astarion would give you when you’d talk of something scandalous he was already doing. He nodded his head in the direction of his washroom and you followed along behind him, allowing him to sit on a small stool as you wet a rag.

“Well, go on,” you urged, tilting his face up by the chin as you stood between his legs. Gently, you began washing the blood off of his face. “What happened?”

“After you stepped outside, Wyll began saying some rather choice words,” Gale recounted, the night's events playing over in his mind, eyes ever trained on you. “He wouldn’t cooperate with leaving. He took the first swing, I assure you. It’s not like me to throw first, or even second. I usually counteract with magic but, albeit adrenaline was forefront in my mind, a more physical response felt qualified.”

You chuckled at him, shaking your head as you took his hands and cleaned them off, too. “I’m not a damsel in distress, you know. I just didn’t want to deal with him.” You informed him, wanting to make perfectly clear your reason for aversion.

“Oh, I’m fully aware. But I like to play the white knight now and then, if you’d indulge me,” he grinned, turning his hand in yours and taking it gently. He kissed the top of your palm in thanks for your help.

You giggled at him, splashing his face gently with water, to which he gasped, reached over towards the sink, and splashed you back. You both burst into laughter as you started a miniature water fight, flicking water droplets at one another. You, though, wouldn’t give up this nonsensical fight so easily, and splashed a small cup in his face. His expression turned sour and you darted out of the washroom, Gale quick on your tail, and began dashing around bookshelves to avoid him. The initial droplets soon became minor castings of ‘create water’, both of you careful not to damage the papers surrounding you.

“This honestly seems unfair!” He called over to you as you shimmied behind a small space between two bookshelves. Abruptly, he went quiet and you began to peek around some books to see where he was.

He didn’t even say a word as he wrung out his cloth over your head, your hair becoming completely wet.

“Gale!” You screeched, turning around to his shit-eating grin. You whipped out your cloth while grabbing his collar, suddenly pulled his shirt slightly off his body, and wrung out all the remaining water from yours down his chest. Then, you flattened his shirt against his chest, allowing it to become soaked in its own right.

He jumped slightly at the coolness and glared down at you, albeit playfully. He quickly pulled you against him by the waist, effectively getting your clothes damp, too.

“You know, this is one of my favorite shirts. It’s not supposed to get wet like this so the fibers don’t fray,” Gale hummed, staring down at you with a suggestive look in his eye.

“Oh? How ever will I repay you for ruining it?” You asked, batting your eyelashes at him with faux innocence.

He thought about it for a moment, pondered just a beat too long, and tugged you close against his hips. He leaned down towards you, letting his nose brush against your own.

“A simple apology should suffice,” he smiled softly, looking down into your eyes.

“Well,” you lowered your voice, your eyes flicked from his to his lips, and back up again. “I’m so sorry, Mister Dekarios..” your hands made their way to his chest, and you planted them flat against him. “I should dry this off for you too, shouldn’t I?” You pouted, pulling out the wide, cutesy eyes for him.

He took in a breath, placing one hand on top of yours while the other rested on your lower back. “While I love that offer..” he started, brushing his lips against yours, “Let’s take things slow, yes?” He asked, and your breath hitched. Good gods. You couldn’t believe how goddamn gorgeous he was up close. You wanted nothing more than to spend the whole night with him, whatever that would entail.

“Y/N-“

“Yes.” He didn’t even need to ask, but he started to anyway. Almost instantly, his lips were against your own, the hand on your back gently pulling you closer to him as if there was any distance keeping you apart. Your eyes fluttered closed, indulging yourself entirely the moment.

You replied instantly to him, grabbing at his shirt as you leaned up towards him. One of your hands released the fabric and slid up his shoulder, then into his hair, tugging gently.

He hummed happily in response to the pull, grabbing tighter at your waist. After another beat, he drew back and rubbed his nose against yours.

“Gale…” Your eyes slowly opened again, ever so slightly still shut, looking up at him with an unknown kind of intensity and love.

“I know…” he whispered, pressing a small kiss to your lips again, before he trailed down your neck with them, his hands solid against your back and keeping you steady.

You let out a soft, satisfied little groan, running your hands through his hair. He pulled back again after another brief indulgement of his thoughts and looked down at you. He was so perfect, you almost felt bad for making him deal with you and all your imperfections.

“Can I stay the night with you?” You asked, and then panicked as you realized he might get the wrong idea. “Not- like- we don’t have to do anything! I just… want to be here… with you…” your voice went quieter by the minute, and he chuckled at your shyness in asking.

Tilting your head up by the chin, he calmed your nerves. “Of course, you can,” he leaned down to you, pressing another small kiss to your lips.

He slowly pulled away from you, his hands ghosting on your waist before he stepped back, coaching you to follow him with his all-knowing smirk, bringing you to his kitchen. As you followed, he pulled out the aforementioned bottle of Ithbank and two glasses. You hopped up onto one of the counters, watching him pour into each.

“So, I have to know,” he began, handing you the wine, “if you’d be willing to share,” he took a sip from his glass, stepping between your legs this time, “what exactly happened with Wyll? Because that kind of a reaction from someone doesn’t suggest that the breakup was just messy, it suggests that it was, well, horrid to say the least.”

You took the wine glass from him, wrapped your legs around his waist, and sighed loudly. “I’d like to know about you and your ex first,” you replied, taking a sip slowly, “I don’t know much about you and right now the scales are quite imbalanced,” you finished, setting your glass down beside you. You leaned forward, draping your arms over his shoulders, and began to mess with his hair.

“Ah, Mystra…” he chuckled, though it wasn’t as enthusiastic as it usually was. He pursed his lips together, frowned slightly, and then began to speak.

“As you may know, Mystra is the Goddess of Magic, the Mother of the Weave, if you will. And I, myself, am a rather proclaimed wizard,” he started, bringing your arms down from his shoulders as he stepped back. He began to manipulate the weave around you both, a soft purple light shimmering and sparkling between and around you. “From a young age, I was using the Weave. I had much of it mastered by the time I was just ten years old. One of Mystra’s former chosen, Elminster, took it upon himself to train me in her absence, as she was not alive at that point.”

You saw the face of a man, conjured by Gale, who you could only assume was the Elminster he spoke of.

“When Mystra came back, she had lost a part of herself in her former death. Thus, she was weak. But, she could still sense my fascination and usage of the Weave. Soon enough, she began appearing to me. Only briefly, mind you, she was still far too injured to show herself entirely, but she still did.” This time, you saw the face of a rather beautiful woman, whom he alluded to as Mystra. How had he given up a Goddess? Well, you’d find out.

“At that time, she picked me to become one of her Chosen. Recognizing my skill for harnessing the Weave, and understanding my desire and devotion to her, it was an obvious choice. She started mentoring me, showing me parts of the Weave I had not yet discovered,” he continued, using visualizations of the encounters to help guide the storyline. “Eventually, we became friends. And then, even closer than that. Lovers. I desired to become great for her- intertwine our souls together, prove just how much I loved her. Remind you, she was dead for a long time,” he paused, making sure you were following him.

“When she came back, she had to regain the parts of the Weave that she had lost. I, knowing this, happened across a tome that told of a portion of the Weave that Mystra had not yet been reacquainted with. Lost to time, the elements, and Mystra’s long respite, this part of the Weave had gone uncollected by her and was still separate. It was imbued with Netherese magic from the folly of one of her chosen from many centuries prior, that in of itself is a story for another time. I sought to retrieve it and return it to her as an act of love- or, perhaps, egotism. I shall never know the true intent of my heart in those days, but, rest assured, I am no longer the same,” he smiled warily at you, hoping he was not losing you in everything. Both in the storybook tale he was telling, and romantically.

“The act of mine failed, rather horrendously so. What mortal man takes a piece of the weave for himself? A selfish one, indeed. Cursed with this portion, it was bestowed upon me. There are many details that I’m leaving for the sake of not boring you, but in a gist that is what happened. And now, this Netherese magic rests within me, seeking out parts of the weave to regain what it too had previously lost. Without magical artifacts, death very well could be the consequence. So, safe to say, I am no longer on my Goddess’ good side,” he paused, debating on what else to say. “It’s an arcane hunger, that’s what my Tressym, Tara, and I have figured out. I must consume those artifacts regularly to ease the hunger and calm the orb, otherwise I’ll… well, let’s just say it won’t exactly be very pretty.” He laughed slightly again, that sad, disheartened chuckle, and you felt terrible for him.

Mystra had essentially cursed the man she claimed to love, and you found that unfair. Why wouldn’t she just reabsorb the magic? Why put him under duress when all he wanted to do was prove his devotion? You would never say it aloud, but you despised the Gods and their unusual cruelty at times.

“I… don’t know what to say. That’s awful, Gale.” You realized that the details he had provided to you on your initial date were rather vague. Now that he explained it in more depth, your situation with Wyll felt minuscule in comparison. What’s a lover's quarrel in the shadow of a devoted, lovesick chosen being cursed with a gift he intended for his Goddess?

“Do not pity me, Y/N. It’s the consequence of a foolish man seeking more than he could attain. Had I not been blinded by my insatiable need to grow stronger and unlock arcane secrets that were not mine to know, I would not be here. Mystra had told me to be content, and I just couldn’t listen. But had I, I would not be with you. If going back in time meant that I would lose out on what I have now, I would suffer it all over a thousand times more,” he smiled at you, the magic fading as he returned and stood in front of you again.

“You’d suffer through losing your Goddess’ favor for me?” You asked, and he nodded. The look in his eye… was one of complete seriousness. While soft, you could see the determination behind his gaze. He did not intend to fault you like he faulted his Goddess. He wanted to savor this, savor you. You weren’t sure whether to be scared, or honored. What else was he willing to risk for you?

“I’d disown even the angriest of Gods if it resulted in our union being inseparable,” he placed his hand under your chin, tilting your head up towards him. “I have only known you for a short period of my life, and yet I’d live a thousand more years with you if I could.”

You felt your eyes water, the sentiment touching your heart. You looked towards the ground, before throwing your arms around him and pulling him in for a hug. You wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, and he pulled you close against him.

“Thank you, for everything,” you told him, burying your face into his chest. He held you just like that for a moment, allowing his head to rest on top of yours. When you finally pulled away, looking up at him with the sweetest doe eyes, he couldn’t help but lean down and kiss you again.

“You’re adorable,” he laughed softly, kissing you again and again. Your giggles broke the kisses and you whacked him gently on the chest to get him to stop.

“Are you alright? I know that was quite a lot to take in,” he asked, and you admired his sensitivity to your headspace.

“I’m alright. I’m still stuck on the fact you eat magical items, though,” you joked, and he rolled his eyes at you.

“Alright, alright. Enough about me. It’s your turn,” he wrapped the conversation back around to you and Wyll, and it pained you for a second to think about it.

And then you looked at him, enjoying his glass of wine with you, and you couldn’t help but feel connected enough to talk about it.

Until you heard the birds chirping happily outside, the two of you labored over the blow-up with Wyll. It was a weight off your shoulders, bantering with him about all the shitty things that happened that night. Like two drunken schoolgirls talking shit about a mutual ex-friend, you both couldn’t help it.

You weren’t sure how long you slept, just that you were comfortable, warm, and safe. Safe within the tight hold of Gale’s arms, under the silk sheets that lined his bed.

You had this inkling feeling that all was right in the world. The universe, for once, was back on your side. Back on his side. It was like mending a pot with the age-old art of kintsugi- melding two broken pieces together with gold-dusted glue. Was it perfect? By no means. But it was together. It was whole.

You were whole again.

At least, until you got abducted by Mindflayers.

99 notes · View notes

prettyboywoll · 5 days

Text

I missed you - Arber Xhekaj

a’s notes: hello, my loves! During my break I came up with this cute little idea and knew I needed to write it. This is my first time writing for Arber … hope you guys like it<3

warnings: mentions long distance, crying, fluff, and not proofread

you gradually open your eyes, noticing the clock on your bedside table reads 5:52 am. You stretch and rub your eyes for a few seconds to clear the sleep from them. The sun's warm rays stream in through the clear curtains, casting a bright and beautiful golden glow across the room. You turn your head to the right and notice the empty space beside you where Arber usually sleeps. You reach out to touch his side, but feel nothing but cold sheets. A pout forms on your face as you miss the warmth and comfort he usually radiates.

As you lay in bed, you heard the bathroom door creak open and immediately lifted your head off the pillow. You saw your boyfriend walk out with a big smile on his face, and your heart swelled with warmth and love. He looked so cute in the matching pajamas you had purchased for him as a welcome home gift, along with a beautiful bouquet of flowers that you had placed on the bedside table last night. The reaction you got from him was so precious and heartwarming, you knew you had made the right choice in surprising him. He couldn't believe you had gotten him flowers, and his shock may have even brought a few tears to his eyes. You felt overjoyed seeing him so happy, and you knew that this was the beginning of a beautiful day.

you rose up to the sound of Arber’s voice. "Morning, gorgeous. Did you sleep well?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with love and affection. You couldn't help but smile as you jumped up into his arms, feeling the warmth of his embrace. Arber let out a laugh, making your stomach erupt with butterflies.

Wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, you played with the ends of his hair, tucking it behind his ear. Looking down at him, you nodded your head and said, "Good morning, handsome. I missed you."

He placed his face in the crook of your neck and gently kissed the side of your neck. Tightening his grip around your waist, he brought you in closer, "I missed you more. So happy to be home."

You couldn't help but smirk at him and ask, "Is that why you're up so early? Missed me that much, huh?" Watching his cheeks heat up with embarrassment, you brought your hands to caress his cheeks "You're so cute."

You both stood there admiring and holding each other for a while. The long distance had been hard, but when you got to see each other, it was worth it. He whispered, "I wanted to be up early to spend more time with you," as he held the necklace that hung beautifully on your chest between his fingers to calm himself down.

"It was so hard not having you by my side. Five months of not seeing your beautiful face beside me when I woke up almost killed me. I missed coming home to you after games, spending my off days with you, or even seeing the messes you would leave around the apartment. I missed it all, but most importantly, your hugs and kisses," he said, his eyes filling with tears.

You wiped some of the tears that had fallen down from his eyes and held him close. He hid his face in your neck while you rubbed his back, feeling grateful to be in each other's arms once again.

“I know, baby but I’m here now and don’t plan on leaving any time soon” you said. It made Arber look at you with a confused expression. That quickly went away when he realized what you were saying.

With a huge smile on his face, he lifted you up off the ground and twirled you around in circles, feeling an overwhelming sense of joy and relief. After spending countless months apart in a long-distance relationship, the love of his life was finally going to move in with him. He could hardly contain his excitement as he thought about all the memories they would create together in their new home. No more lonely nights or missed opportunities for quality time. It was finally time to start their lives together, side by side, in a place they could call their own.

As you stood there with tears streaming down your face, he reached out and gently held your face in his hands. With a tender touch, he wiped the tears away and leaned in to plant a loving kiss on your forehead. It was as if he wanted to assure you that everything was going to be alright. Arber pulled back, looking into your eyes and whispered, "This is the best day of my life." His words were soft and full of emotion, and they filled you with a sense of warmth and comfort. In that moment, you knew that you were exactly where you were meant to be.

#arber xhekaj x reader #arber xhekaj #montreal canadiens #canadiens #habs hockey #nhl fluff #nhl writing #hockey fluff #hockey imagines #nhl hockey imagines

55 notes · View notes

avatar-anna · 1 year

Note

Idk if you like this concept but i can't stop thinking about harry with swiftie y/n who always sings London Boy to him. And likes to tease him about the fact that he dated Taylor

swiftie!y/n by @harrysfolklore is superior, but i did my best!

(also, i know london boy isn't actually about harry, he's just being a tease)

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

“Hello everyone. My name is Y/n Y/l/n, but only because my boyfriend hasn't proposed to me yet.”

In the dim lighting, you could just make out Harry's figure at the back of the bar, where he promptly flipped you off. Laughing a bit, you continued.

“He told me we weren’t going home tonight until I got up here and performed, and while you are all a lovely bunch, I fear I am growing a little tired, so here I am.”

You and Harry were spending some time in Japan. Tokyo, to be exact. He'd just come off his first solo tour, and you both thought it would be nice to get away for a little while. He liked Japan, and you had never been, so it was perfect.

In the few weeks of being in Japan, you and Harry frequented a couple of places, one of which was a karaoke bar a few blocks from the apartment you were staying at. It was all locals and the two of you, but everyone was welcoming, especially when Harry started doing rounds of sake and getting on the small stage to perform here and there. You were content to watch, though Harry tried multiple times to get you to at the very least join him. And now that it was nearing the end of your stay, he was pressing a little harder.

So now you were on the stage with a microphone in your hand, trying not to look at anyone for too long.

“You got this, babe!” Harry shouted from his seat, resting his fingers in his mouth to blow a sharp whistle.

“Thank you,” you said. “This song goes out to my boyfriend, my London boy. And Taylor Swift, who I am forever grateful to for breaking up with my boyfriend so that I could have him one day, and I hope she'll follow me on Instagram one day so we can become best friends and dress up as Charlie’s Angels together for Halloween.”

You weren’t typically the kind of person that over shared, but it took a good amount of alcohol to get a microphone in your hands, and you tended to share a little too much about yourself when you were drunk.

Harry gave you a thumbs up as the music started, and since you called Taylor Swift “mother” on a regular basis, you didn't really need the words on the screen to help you along.

“We can go drivin' in, on my scooter. Uh, you know, just riding in London. Alright. I love my hometown as much as Motown, I love SoCal. And you know I love Springsteen, faded blue jeans, Tennessee whiskey...”

It was safe to say that you loved Taylor Swift. You grew up with her music, each album speaking to the different phases of your life as you went through them. Her music, her lyrics, the stories she told...you just understood all of it, you felt understood by her songs.

Meeting Harry, falling in love with him, it was all chance. He came into the clothing store you worked at, and you only recognized him as the guy from that boy band who dated Taylor Swift (which you did not tell him until much, much later). But he took you by surprise. His hair was long and his smile was shy but kind, and instead of talking about clothing suggestions like you were paid to do, he asked about you, and you asked about him, and instead of walking out with shopping bags, he left with your number, and the rest was history.

You never really expected to fall in love with Harry. Honestly, you thought he would forget about asking for your number. But he texted you a couple hours after you met, and you stayed up almost all night talking about whatever popped into your heads. He made his interest in you quite obvious, so there was never a period where friendship became more, but you still considered him your best friend. You were just two young people in love and experiencing the world together, and you wouldn't have wanted anyone else by your side.

Harry knew now what a fan of Taylor Swift you were, courtesy of a night where you had a little too much to drink and accidentally showed him a picture of a teenage you dressed in a “You Belong With Me” costume at one of her concerts.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

“So, you’re a fan, are you?” he asked.

“That might be an understatement,” you told him, crawling into his lap. “You should know, if I believed in hall passes...”

Harry bursted out laughing, throwing his head back as you giggled with him. You thought he might be put off by your love for your favorite artist, but when he sobered up, he kissed the top of your head and said, “Noted. I’m very thankful that you don't believe in hall passes then.”

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

“You know I love a London boy, I enjoy walking Camden Market in the afternoon. He likes my American smile. Like a child when our eyes meet, darling, I fancy you...”

You were no performer, but you did your best, skipping between tables and trying your hardest not to sound horrible. You tried not to look at Harry too, because you knew he would be smiling no matter how good or bad you were, and you needed to make it through the song without getting flustered.

However, as the song came to a close, you went over to where he was and planted yourself on his lap, singing the last few lines just to him.

You could tell he was a little drunk too. His green eyes hooded as he smiled down at you. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, and his grip on your waist made it hard to focus, but you managed to make it to the end of the song before kissing him.

His lips tasted like alcohol and the lip balm he kept in his pocket at all times. You held the sides of his face in your hands, thumbs rubbing at his temples as the patrons of the bar applauded your big finale. Eventually you pulled away to give the microphone back to the person in charge of the karaoke machine, but Harry didn't let you get far, his arms circling around your waist and holding you close.

“Let’s go home,” he mumbled as the next person got ready to perform.

“Can we grab something to eat on the way back? That left me starving. I don't know how Taylor does it.”

Harry chuckled as he stood up from his seat, leaving a couple bills on the bar before taking your hand in his as the two of you walked out into the chilly night air. “I perform too, you know.”

“I know, but she has these huge dance numbers too. It must be exhausting.”

“Are you saying I need dance numbers in my performances now?” he asked, but he knew you were joking around. He was a close second in your list of favorite artists, and he was well aware of that.

You shook your head, shivering a little as the wind picked up. Harry pulled you close, resting an arm over your shoulders. You wrapped your arms around his middle as you walked, pressing your cheek against his chest and savoring the warmth emanating from him.

You were both quiet as you walked down the street, content to just be next to each other. Until,

“You know I’m not from London, though, right?”

“Oh, I know. But Holmes Chapel boy doesn't have the same ring to it!”

Harry leaned down to brush his lips against yours. It was short and sweet and perfect, his most nudging yours as he pulled back just a little. “You’re right. I’ll have to give her a ring about that.”

“You have her number?”

#harry styles #swiftie!y/n #swiftie!reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

720 notes · View notes

viaoverthemoon · 10 months

Note

Cause I have one request to make. What if older Leon (it can be either but I have vendetta in mind) was asked by the DSO to find an ex-umbrella agent she's kidnapped at the moment.

And when he rescues her there's all sorts of tension between them. She's grateful for him but he's wary of her(understandably so....) And over the time they bond over the fact they both want to save people (she's changed) . But over the time their sexual tension between grows and grows and one day it snaps....... Resulting in 👀👀👀you know

(please tell me you are understanding what I am saying like this idea is ingrained in my brain somehow. But you can ignore this request if you want.)

I see the vision, my dear! I see it so freaking hard!

Please hand over your brain so I can SMOOCH IT!!!!!

The gears are already turning and I grabbed my laptop as soon as I could <3

Vendetta!Leon Kennedy x Fem!Reader

Summary: Leon finds and rescues you after being kidnapped. While you are grateful, you can't help but notice the tension that follows the both of you as you head to the rendezvous point.

Tw: Implied kidnapping, ptsd (I think), gun & knife violence/battle, zombies but they aren't described, fluff, SMUT, p in v sex, unprotected sex (Don't be silly, wrap your willy <3) Let me know if I missed anything!

18+!! NSFW!! MDNI!! Read at your own risk!

Enjoy! <3

❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁

A small sliver of light suddenly shines into your dark room.

You'd been in the dark for so long, the light momentarily disoriented you. You back yourself into a corner, your heart rate accelerating as your anxiety rises.

Some new group of bioterrorists had risen, not as bad as Umbrella, but also not trying to do good like the government. They'd kidnapped you in hopes of using the information you must have, since you once worked with umbrella.

But you hadn't given them anything. Within the past week they'd tried everything in mental and physical torture, but you didn't relent.

The previous night, you'd heard some of your captors speaking of them getting impatient and frustrated with you, the possibility of just killing you and kidnapping someone else to take your place getting more and more appealing to them.

But you weren't going down without a fight.

You grab the only chair in the small room, holding it as best you can with your dislocated shoulder. You pant heavily as your wild eyes stare at the door that opens slowly.

You pause when your full name is called out, the chair dropping just an inch. A brunette man with bright blue eyes cautiously peeks into the room, gun raised as he repeats your name again.

A small flash of hope rises in your chest. He can't see you in the dark, so he continues walking in. He repeats your name, "-are you here? I'm here to bring you to safety."

His words bring you so much relief that you drop the chair. The guy whips his body toward you, turning on his flashlight and pointing the gun at you.

When he sees its only you, tired and breathing heavily with a gag between your lips, he relaxes and puts his weapon in his holster.

He approaches you slowly, as if you're a wild animal. "My names Leon Kennedy. I was sent by the DSO to rescue you."

You blink quickly, holding back tears as you nod. You stand awkwardly as he goes behind you, untying the cloth before stepping away. "Better?"

You take a moment to let your mouth salivate and clear your throat before speaking, "Yes... Thank you so much... You have no idea-"

"Good. Let's go." Leon turns back toward the door, leaving before you can finish.

His response stuns you for a few seconds before you brush it off as him just trying to hurry back to safety.

But the tension remains as you both travel through the abandoned city, helping each other up and down fallen buildings in complete silence.

You can't help but notice the way he sharply turns away from you after having to help you, or how an annoyed expression overcomes his face when you take too long to follow him.

It isn't until the two of you are forced to run into a barely standing house to get away from wandering A-Virus zombies.

Leon boards the door shut behind the two of you before leaning against it to catch his breath.

You rest against the wall of the house, breathing heavily as your mind can't seem to stop thinking about the way Leon has treated you so far. You hadn't done anything to him that would cause him to harbor bad feelings towards you. And you always helped him when he needed it. So why? Your curiosity gets the best of you.

"Hey-... Leon?" He responds to your breathy words with a grunt, not even looking at you. This irritates you a little, but you continue with a soft voice.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm super grateful for you saving me... But I can't help but feel like you don't feel all too happy about my safety."

He just grunts again, checking the number of bullets in his gun. "Don't know why you would think that." His tone contradicts his words, and your patience slowly deteriorates.

"I would think that because I haven't done anything to you! I would understand if I'd wronged you, but I haven't-"

"Oh, so working under Umbrella isn't doing something wrong?"

Your sharp inhale is the only thing heard in a pause filled with silence.

The both of you remain silent while staring at each other. Leon, looking at you with a blank look, was in much more inner turmoil at the moment. He wants to trust you, he really does. But Umbrella had taken so much from everyone. He can't imagine how sick a person must be in the head to work with them. Ex-employee or not.

You sigh and look him deep in his eyes, causing Leon to flinch because he swore he felt something ghost over the shell of his soul.

"I understand what you mean. And I'm not proud of the work I did under those monsters... But I'm not with them anymore! I'd found out that what we were doing was wrong, and immediately ran. I'm not who I was before. I swear. I just want to help those in need."

He just looks at you, mildly surprised by your sudden confession. All he can do is nod in acknowledgement. "Right... okay."

And from then on, you both get along relatively well throughout the journey to the rendezvous point.

You make pleasant conversation when possible, Leon asks if you need breaks or if you're hungry. He worries genuinely for your wellbeing. And you'd be lying if you said his care didn't make your heart go crazy. He cared for you. Found you food when you were hungry, handled your injuries, and popped your dislocated shoulder back into place.

The more he interacts with you, the more his determination to get you out of here grows. He hardly cares for himself, only thinking about you. And every time you thank him or give him that deep look of appreciation, he feels... things... Things he hasn't felt since his teenage years. He feels things that make him feel young again.

❁

Once again, you two are forced to retreat into yet another barely standing home. Only this time, you're both laughing as you close the door and board it shut together.

You step away and walk to a wooden desk, jumping up and sitting on it with your hand over your heart as you try to stop laughing. "Okay, that one liner you used when you threw the flashbang- 'Damn, I think you just got flashed.' Too fucking funny-"

Quiet snickers fill the tiny house. "Why, thank you sweetheart. And you're quite skilled with throwing knives. That knife you threw into that zombie's jugular?" He gives a playful chef's kiss, causing you to blush and giggle.

"Thanks. Told you I can handle myself."

"Right, and that's why you were kidnapped?"

You pause.

He pauses.

His words had unintentionally caused for your throat to close up. You cleared it, looking away from him and trying to give a small smile. But he knew he must have over-stepped.

He walks towards you. "Hey, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought that up-" You instantly try to reassure him.

"No, no! I'm fine- really! I just wasn't expecting it."

You're surprised when Leon gets closer, stepping in-between your legs and wiping liquid off of your face. "Then why are you crying?"

You gasp before lifting a hand to feel your face. Sure enough, you're crying. You sniffle, trying to wipe away the tears but they never seem to stop. "Sorry- I don't mean to cry. I've j-just had a really long week..."

He shushes you. "I understand. There's no need to apologize. This couldn't have been easy."

You take a few moments to calm yourself. And once your tears finally stop, you look up and realize just how close Leon is. Your noses graze each other when you look at him. His bright blue eyes staring into yours with deep concern, his brown hair falling over his eyes, his dark brows pulled together in concentration as he looks all over your face.

Your heart rate accelerates.

You lick your lips, eyes dancing over his face before flickering to his lips. "Thank you... Leon."

He hadn't missed the motion of your tongue, eyes moving to yours.

You both look at each other for what seems like forever before he leans in.

Life seems a little more colorful.

Life feels worth living.

Life has just gotten so fucking worth it.

His soft lips dance against yours, stubble scrapping your chin, but you don't care.

You sigh into the kiss, bathing in the warm feeling that comes when his hands come to rest on your cheeks. You cover his hands with your own, eyes blissfully closed as you forget about everything else.

Nothing else matters. No one else matters. Everything you need, is in this man right in front of you.

Before you know it, he's deepening the kiss.

His hands move down to your hips and he pulls away to catch his breath.

You both pant for a while, eyes remaining locked onto the other's.

"Do you-... Are you sure you want this?"

Do you even have to think about it?

You instantly nod your head, not a single thought of hesitation in your brain.

"Do you want this?"

The question surprises him. "Do I?!"

You laugh when he lunges forward, lips landing on your neck. He sucks and bites like there's no tomorrow, relishing in the sounds of your soft moans and whimpers.

His hands move to the band of your pants. "Can I take these off?"

You give a small, 'Mhm-' and the pants, and your panties, are off within seconds.

You grind into his clothed semi-bulge, moaning at the friction on your clit. Your ass hurt from the wooden desk biting into it, but the pain is barely acknowledged. Leon digs his hands into your hips, stopping your movements.

You whine, about to snap at him for denying you of pleasure. But your complaint dies on your tongue when one of his hands slides between the two of you.

You gasp, hips twitching as he palms at your cunt. "Yes..."

He just chuckles, continuing to rub your puffy lips and your clit as his other hand reaches for his zipper.

You bite one of your nails to keep from being too loud as you watch him pull his dick from his pants.

A whimper leaves your lips at the pure size and girth of him.

He jerks himself a few times, watching the pure lust in your eyes and the drool pooling at the corner of your lips. He calls your name to get your attention. "You ready? You look pretty out of it and we barely even started..."

You glare at him, his hot breath fanning over your face as he slides his cock between your folds a few times before entering you.

Your heart races right against his, both of you panting and groaning as he bottoms out. Your nails create little crescent marks on his shoulder and the back of his neck, sweat collecting on your hairline.

Leon gets lost in the feeling of your silky wet walls, large hands gripping your hips as he begins a slow pace.

Your hearts beat in sync, hands never leaving the other. You can't keep your hands to yourself, scratching along his back, running them down his chest, combing through his hair.

You feel a tug on your soul. A feeling of connection.

There was something so intimate about this moment. You felt truly tied to this man, something you hadn't felt with somebody else in a long time.

You clench around him at the thought and he groans, picking up the pace.

Leon has slept with women before, but there was something special about you.

Everyone else was a mere distraction. Something to keep his mind off of the many years of physical and mental damage he had to endure.

But you?

You're the only one he felt a need to hold on to.

A sudden shock makes him thrust into you a little harder, causing you to cry out. You grip the nape of his neck as your back arches, legs raising to cross behind his back.

Leon grabs the back of your head and lead you into another passionate kiss, swallowing your whines and moans as his thrusts become erratic and desperate.

Both of your releases are within your reach, each of you getting louder and louder as you get closer. "Can I-... Can I cum inside? Please?"

Your approval is instant, not even thinking about refusing. "Yes-! Need it so bad..."

You jerk your hips to meet his with every thrust, the feeling of him kissing your cervix tightening the knot more and more until- it snaps.

Leon has to cover your mouth to muffle the loud sob the leaves your lips, not long after following you over that edge and seeing stars.

He bites the side of your neck to stay quiet himself, breathing heavily as the weight of the euphoria subsides.

You both lean on each other, bathing in the warmth and the safety the other provides.

"-One? Do you copy?"

The both of you startle, Leon accidentally pulling out of you and causing you to hiss at the sudden emptiness.

He mutters a quick apology before bringing a hand to his ear. "Condor One to Roost. I copy." He glances at you nervously. "Myself and-... Viper are safe and still on route to the rendezvous point." He embarrassingly turns away and fixes himself.

You silently gawk at your codename. It was flattering, in a way, but also showed that they really didn't trust you...

Leon soon finishes with his report and turns back to you, seeing you leaning on the desk. Watching him with a small smile and your pants back on.

He walks to you and places his hands on the desk, caging you in, before nuzzling his face into your neck. He breaths you in. "Sorry about that. Of course, we picked that before-"

"No need to apologize. I can see how I may have been kinda... snake-like-"

You laugh when he groans, lightly banging his head against your shoulder. You stay like this for a moment, holding each other, before Leon pulls away.

He gives you a quick peck on the lips and pulls his gun from its holster, checking the bullets again. "C'mon. Let's get out of here so I can get you back home and take you out for dinner."

You giggle, grabbing the first aid and weapons. "What, is this not already first date material?"

He pulls you in by your waist, getting close enough for you to feel his breath on your face.

"For you... First date material is so much more."

❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁

THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE AHHH!!

Ngl, I don't really like how long this is or how it ended, BUT LEMME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Hope you enjoyed!

Requests are open!! <3

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #resident evil #viaoverthemoon #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy smut #re4 leon #re4 #smut #resident evil leon #leon s kennedy #leon x y/n #leon kennedy fluff #leon scott kennedy

382 notes · View notes

jung-koook · 4 months

Text

this day in 2012 little sky was bored and decided to turn on her laptop and checked some kpop forums (after a few years I realised that these forums were sasaengs forums. this is the only explanation for why they have so much information, especially about a group that hasn't debuted yet.. at that time I think it was quite ~common~ to share these information, but those were different times, now we see how wrong that was.) until she read one about the new group that was about to debut. she was literally mesmerized by everything she was reading and seeing there. while humming 소녀시대 '소녀시대' she decided to research more about this new group and the members, a new group that seemed like it would bring something very interesting and new to the world of kpop. she spent the last few days of 2012 literally doing just that. then she found more things about namjoon, then jin. at this point she was already obsessed. she would come home from school and immediately go to see if they had posted more about them, more videos. then in 2013 almost close to them debuting she found out about the other members and found out about jeongguk. and omg......... there she knew that he had chosen her and she had chosen him. 🥺 lmao let me stop talking about myself like that 🥹

the part below is hard to share and may trigger some people, so please don't read if it will trigger you. (I'm going to talk about depression and not wanting to live anymore) but I want to share a little more of what bangtan did in my life with you guys. maybe I'll delete it later lmao.

2012 was a very hard year for me. at the age of 12 I was already diagnosed with depression. I was very much a person who didn't like life, I didn't like living. in 2012 I was diagnosed with "su* c *dal depression". I didn't even know this term existed, but I was hospitalized in 2012 because my doctors said I needed to have someone watching me for 24 hours. finding out about bangtan was really a lifesaver for me. I really needed this distraction. I really needed something that would make me disconnect a little from what I was going through. a lifesaver, that's what they were for me and my life. bangtan has no idea how much they helped me, how much they saved me, how much they were my friends when I needed it most. I never cared about these holidays at the end of the year but since 2012, holidays at the end of the year have become something so special for me and so emotional too. I will always remember this moment and how grateful I am for it. and no matter how old I am, I will be 60 years old and I will still be grateful for everything bangtan has done in my life. I will always be grateful for finding them when I needed them most and for them existing. the positive impact they had on my life and still has will always shock me. because they are people who don't even know me but they helped me so much, often much more than these people who did. thank you so much for bangtan existing. thank you so much for each member and for everything they did for me without even knowing me, and for being my lifesaver. ♡

#I'm so sentimental and emotional today and missing them so much );

88 notes · View notes

crescencestudio · 5 months

Text

๋࣭⭑ Devlog 36 | 11.26.23 ๋࣭⭑

:rises from the dead: I'm.... BAAAAACK!!!!!!

Long time, no talk (kinda) everyone! I hope you've been happy, healthy, and well since we last saw each other and that the wind-down for the year is being kind to you all <3

We have a lot to catch up on, so let's do just that ^^ This is.... so long. I'm really sorry in advance tbh---I thought I hadn't done much because break, but there's quite a bit to show.

It's been a while since a formal update on the routes, so I'll start by telling you all where they officially stand. Before I do, it might be helpful to tell you all how I define percentage completion in my head. Basically, when I finish the draft of a route, I consider it 70% complete. This means I could ship it as is. I wouldn't be happy with the product, but it's playable and makes enough sense---just not the best quality.

When Wudgey finishes their edits, a route is 80%-85% complete, meaning I could ship it as is. I think it'd be pretty good actually and players would be happy. Beyond this point, I am just making fine tuning edits to incorporate more player interaction, polishing the flow of things, etc.

After that, there's basically only Elm and Vi's edits left. When Elm finishes, a route is 95% complete. Again, I think at this point, it's good. Like edits from this point onwards are purely for polishing purpose. After Vi, it's 98% complete. Then the last review comes back to Elm and I for it to be 100% complete. Right now, this is where the routes stand:

Kayn: 98% Complete

Fenir: 95% Complete

Druk: 80% Complete

Etza: 60% Complete (Still working on their draft!)

Do Not ask me about Kuna'a or Aisa LFMASOEIDJ

So most of the routes are actually looking pretty good! They're just getting bounced around to different editors at this point, but the changes made for most of them are basically small. Fenir and Kayn especially could be shipped as is in my eyes if I really wanted to.

Art recently has mostly been focused on commissions. Vui actually is almost done with ALL of the BGs for Alaris!! Isn't that crazy?? In about a year, he was able to create almost 25 BGs with daytime variations!!! He's a phenomenal artist, and I couldn't be happier to be working with him. It's also a bit bittersweet (and alarming??) to know that part of development is already close to ending! q.q

The most exciting art update I have is that we got the GUI assets finished and I've started coding them into the game!! AAAA!! These were the final updated assets I needed, and seeing the fully revamped demo come to life has been so.... Emotional HAHA! It's crazy to see how far Alaris has come from when I was first making it with my little fingies and throwing things together like paper mache. I'm incredibly in love with how all the assets look together, and I couldn't be more grateful for the artists who helped me update the assets!

Updated History Log. Please say you like the dividers between entries---I'm most proud of those

I'm still making my way through coding everything, but here's a couple screen previews so you all can see how things now look in the game!!

First off, is the Dialogue/Choice Screen. You can see that we have a brand new dialogue box (She's Stunning) and Choice Screen! I'm hoping to add some sfx for the choices when you hover over them, and sfx for the new UI in general so there's more user feedback when you click and hover on things. But for now, enjoy this preview of the new dialogue box, choice screen, and the new personality indicators!

Updated Dialogue/Choice Screen: You can't see it as well in GIF format, but the BG also has particles floating around, so there's a tiny bit of animation going on in some of the BGs as well!!

Next, we have the Free Time Screen. I actually posted this on Twitter recently but I don't think I posted it on Tumblr! ISN'T SHE STUNNING... ESPECIALLY WITH THE NEW BGS.... I'm especially happy with the text animations that show up at the bottom when you hover over the different choices! I was inspired by a couple other devs (specifically GUI god, @siyo-koy, and renpy animation master @just-a-carrot) to start incorporating animation style elements into my GUI. And I really like how it adds a little ~something~ to the feel of everything ^^

Updated Free Time Screen: begging someone to say they like the text animation so I feel validated for finangling with it

Finally, for our last preview, we have the Save Screen! While it looks new obviously with the new assets, I also did a lot of backend coding revamping for how it actually functions since my coding experience is a bit better now compared to when I was first fighting for my life figuring out save/load screens. The biggest change for you all is that there are now chapter markers so save slots will tell you what chapter that save file is from! And instead of screenshots, it's now a custom icon inside that shows the chapter card. I think it'll make the save screen look more cohesive now and hopefully more intuitive as well!!

Updated Save Screen: With a sprinkle of updated Chapter Card screen preview

That was long. Are any of us surprised, considering I had two months' worth of devlogs piled inside of me, begging to burst from the seams?

Anyways. Only two miscellaneous updates. One is that all soundtracks have been completed for Alaris! Peter finished the last of them recently, and they're all beautiful!!! For ppl who love piano soundtracks... :holds hand in piano lover solidarity:

Other update is that I finally fixed that godforsaken sprite bug that was associated with the energy vision feature from the demo!!! FINALLY!!! AFTER.... SO LONG. Extremely huge thanks to @robobarbie for taking time out of their day to do that; everyone please say thank you!!!!! OGs know how long that bug was bothering me!!!! Robo also gave me a pretty new rain code, so I'm showing you how both look in the new demo so you can appreciate them with me!!

Last miscellaneous update is more on a.... logistical development level?? Basically, now that I have new GUI assets to code, that means I can get a beta build of the routes currently written out. I was feeling really overwhelmed by that idea because most of this year has been focused on writing and making assets, not really coding. Knowing that I can Code and get Playable Builds out to people was stressful because I have to divvy up my time a bit more.

After an extremely insightful talk with beloved and admired Esh of @steamberrystudio I decided I'm probably going to be shifting how development goes from here on out. Instead of focusing head low on getting as many words written for the remaining routes everyday, I'm going to be making smaller but consistent progress and spend the rest of my time coding so that I can have more of a continuous cycle of production going on (e.g., writing a bit, making playable builds, gathering playtester feedback, etc. instead of doing each stage in blocked, sequential order).

I'm mainly telling you all this because it means writing updates will probably seem slower from this point on, but I think production overall will be more efficient because of it! This is also exciting news for playtesters and/or early access backers/patrons because it means you'll have playable content in the near future for content outside of just the demo :')

have u all heard of wudgeous of herotome. of course u have. they r all i talk about at this point

No market research because I've actually been addicted to BG3 LFMAOLSDJF. Actually, I'm taking some inspiration from it for the personality mechanic but eh.

On a more important note, @herotome demo is coming out December 2nd!!!! PLAY IT WITH ME. Wudgey is my editor, so you might think I'm biased but I'M NOT!!! I WAS A FAN OF HEROTOME BEFORE WUDGEY EVEN WORKED W ME!!! They have an exception eye for detail and player experience, and they are actually one of the devs that inspired me to even get into game development.

I just know the demo is going to blow everyone's socks off. OG Herotome prologue build fans know exactly what I'm talking about. Please mark December 2nd on your calendar---you will not regret it.

This was so unbelievably long, but I hope it's appreciated since there was no real devlog update for a hot minute. As always, Thank you all for your patience and continued support. With the year ending soon, I'm getting wrapped up in my feels in usual Crescence fashion. I am a Cancer so no one is surprised.

Next month will probably be more of an end-of-year devlog rather than the usual format. I know the devlogs of late have been all over the place, but once we get into the new year, it will be back to business as usual! Hope you all have a wonderful end to your year; I'll talk to you soon! <3

#alaris #devlog #bitches don't stop talking #aka me i'm bitches #also why did i shout out so many devs in this devlog #usually its like only one #that one being seyl of ravenstar games who i share a codependent relationship with #SODIFJ

86 notes · View notes

gyunglitter · 7 months

Text

➷ 02 ➷

-“oh, the way he makes me feel that love isn’t real -– cupid is so dumb”

unlike you, your brother’s best friend just doesn’t know when to quit

word count: 3,626

warnings: probably one or two curse words, longing from beomgyu ehe, not much tbh

tags: brother’s-best-friend!beomgyu x reader, ??? to ???, angst, fluff(??), beomgyu is the cool boy-next-door, reader is an independent girlboss (or trying to be, at least), beomgyu’s gonna be GROVELING, simp!gyu, pathetic pining from both sides lol, maybe some cringe from reader (she was a teenage girl in love, have some empathy plz😭)

notes: yall, i ACTUALLY edited this chapter. if it sucks, no it doesn't😘

i would actually love it if some of y'all that are enjoying the story to leave me some feedback? some of you guys reblogging leave the funniest things and i super appreciate it! hope you guys like it!!

–> masterlist <–

It had been a long dinner with an even longer catching up at the dinner table afterwards. Your brother was very curious about how the culture was where you went, while your parents were eager to hear about the education. Beomgyu, ironically, had been quiet for the rest of the night. He seemed to kind of fade into the background while you and your family were catching up, which you definitely weren’t complaining about. But that didn’t stop the nonstop questions about your personal life, to which you masterfully avoided by distracting everyone with funny stories from yours and Soobin’s childhood. There were a lot of laughs, shouting, and tears by the end when everyone decided to call it quits.

“I can do the dishes, eomma,” you suggested.

“Thanks, bean,” your mom sighed, leaning back in her chair.

You got up from your seat and started picking up a couple of stray plates around the table. Your brother took it upon himself to grab the remaining dishes you missed and stacked them on top of each other for you.

You silently thanked your brother as you went to grab the pile, but you were interrupted by Beomgyu swiping them just a bit faster.

He looked at you and said, “I’ll help, too.”

You opened your mouth to deny him, but your mother beat you to it.

“That’s so sweet of you, Beomgyu!”

You bit the inside of your cheek to hide your slight annoyance, and merely turned on your heel and went towards the kitchen to the sink. You’d caught the way Beomgyu’s lips quirked up at your expense, which only irked you more.

“Oh, goodie,” you groan.

Beomgyu laughed, that familiar tinkling sound echoing through your mother’s large kitchen. “Wow, no, ‘thank you, oppa, you’re so kind!’ or ‘you’re so progressive, oppa, I’m so grateful!’ or –”

“Shut up or I’ll drown you,” you interrupted, filling the sink with water and soap.

Beomgyu tried not to laugh in your face as he rolled his eyes and started rolling up his sleeves. You couldn’t help your eyes from wandering to his newly exposed forearms, unconsciously admiring the veins running down his arms to his hands. Oh god, his hands.

“Oh no! Not a little bit of water! What ever will I do–?!”

Beomgyu shut up the moment you shot a stream of water in his face with the sink’s spray head. He gasped when the water splashed down his face and onto his dress shirt. It was silent in the kitchen as he gaped at you, while you stared back with a blank stare.

“Told ya.”

Eight Years Ago

“Why can’t I go?!”

“Why the hell would I bring a middle schooler to hang out with my friends?”

“Who cares how old I am? I’m as tall as your friends, anyway!”

You and Soobin had been arguing ever since Beomgyu dropped by to pick up Soobin for their high school team’s senior night football game. It was supposed to be your brother’s school rivals playing, so you knew it was going to be an awesome night, regardless if your team won or not. But you knew your brother’s team would, since they still had star players Jeon Jungkook and Jung Hoseok before they were going off to college. It was their last game and you wanted to see it!

Right when you saw Beomgyu, you immediately begged him to let you come with, but your brother rejected it profusely. He wasn’t super close with the guys he was going to hang out with tonight (Hyunjin and Jeongin) since they knew Beomgyu more, and he refused to give them another reason to think he was a loser. Especially by bringing his little sister to a highschool game that would definitely turn into a celebratory afterparty.

“Why can’t little Y/n come tonight, Soob?” Beomgyu laughed, twirling his new car keys on his index. Beomgyu had just passed his driver’s test and his parents already got him a new car, which he was driving to the game for the first time tonight.

And if this may or may not be the biggest reason you wanted to go tonight, then who cares?

“See! Even oppa wants me to come,” you whined.

“Y/n, no. You’re not coming,” Soobin declared, putting his hands on his hips. “I’m not babysitting you tonight, or leaving the party early just because it’s your bedtime!”

“Dude, you’re the most introverted person I know!” Beomgyu shoved his hands into his pockets and scoffed, “I bet thirty bucks when we’re an hour into the party that you’ll be wishing you had a good excuse to leave.”

Soobin rolled his eyes but stayed firm. “She’s not coming, I mean it. Even if she were older, I’m not letting anybody near her where they can defile her, or something.”

You could feel yourself practically screaming with how mad you were. Turning toward the stairs and looking up, you called for your best back up plan.

“EOMMA!” you screamed.

“WHAT?!”

“OPPA WON’T LET ME GO TO THE GAME WITH HIM AND BEOMGYU!”

You ignored Soobin’s scoff and his complaints about you behind your back as you yelled for your mother’s help. However, his anger stopped at her response.

“IF HE DOESN’T WANT YOU TO GO, THEN YOU CAN’T GO!”

Your jaw dropped as Soobin cheered, yelling his gratitude to your mother.

“But, eomma!” you cried.

“You can’t make him, Y/n! If he doesn’t want to, then he doesn’t have to. You can do something else tonight, I’ll even hang out with you, if you want! We haven’t played Candyland in forever,” your mom reasoned, making your face drop and cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

You grit your teeth and turned back to the two boys who were throwing on their jackets and heading out the door.

“Whatever! I hope we lose and you guys get pantsed at the party,” you growled, folding your arms.

“Yeah, yeah. Have fun playing Candyland with eomma before your bubble bath!” Soobin cackled as he finished putting on his shoes and left.

Beomgyu, however, had his free hand on the door frame and stood in place for a second. Then, he turned toward you with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, Y/n, maybe next time,” he said.

You pouted. “Yeah right I never get to hang out with you guys anymore, you ditched me after starting high school. Just go have fun with your cool new friends and drive in your cool new car, or whatever.”

“You really wanna ride in my car, don’t ya,” Beomgyu teased, but you were not amused. You only kept glaring at him, which made him sigh and stop playing with his keys to run his hand through his hair.

He’d recently started growing it out a bit, and you could tell he wasn’t quite used to it yet. Every time he got hair in his eyes or blew a strand out of the way, it made you want to run your hands through it for him. But for now, you settled with watching him ruffle it out of his face with his own hands instead.

“How about this,” he proposed, turning his body towards you fully. “Tonight, you have an awesome time with your mom before beating the crap out of her in Candyland, and I’ll take you for a ride in my car some other time?”

Your eyes widened at that.

“Seriously?” you asked, lips parted and ears heating up.

“Seriously,” Beomgyu grinned. “But only if you win!”

It took you a second, but you smiled widely at the boy in front of you and nodded vigorously. “Yes! Okay! Awesome, thanks oppa!”

He let out a laugh and went back to twirling his keys, nodding at you before walking out the door and closing it behind him.

You ran over to the window next to your front door and watched as Beomgyu approached his car, unlocking the doors while Soobin whined at him.

“Dude, what took you so long?” he complained.

Beomgyu merely shook his head with a smile on his face.

“Nothing, let’s go.”

They drove off, leaving you with the reddest cheeks and a strong determination. After looking all over for that damned game, you stormed upstairs to your parents room and demanded to start playing. Your mother was thoroughly shocked since–apparently– she was just joking. It didn’t matter to you, though. You sat your parents down and initiated the most intense game of board games that family recreational activities had ever seen.

To say you annihilated your mom and dad at Candyland was an understatement, to which you sent a celebratory selfie to Beomgyu as proof for him to hold up his end of the deal.

You’d finally finished drying off all the dishes with Beomgyu and wanted nothing more than to get away from him. After multiple attempts to start a conversation with you, to splashing you with water, then to purposefully getting the dishes you just cleaned dirty again, you’d had enough.

“Ya know, I don’t usually like doing the dishes all that much,” Beomgyu started, “so I think it’s safe to say that I couldn’t have done it without you!”

He had that same teasing tone to him, the one that always made you laugh and smile at him without a care in the world of whether his joke had gone too far or not. Anything Beomgyu did used to make you happy. But now, it seemed like his voice could only annoy you.

“Yeah? Probably because I did it all,” you deadpanned.

He laughed. “I will admit that you carried me a lot, but I think I did a good job at handing you the plates and encouraging you. I’m no dishwasher, but I’m a mean moral support-er.”

You sighed heavily as he grinned at you, trying to ignore him as you started to walk away from him.

Your parents were already upstairs while Soobin was on the phone with who you could easily guess was Yeonjun as he was insulting the person on the other side, but with the widest smile on his face. There were only three people in the world who he could easily do that to, and two of them were standing in this home.

Rolling your eyes fondly at your brother as he waved at you in passing, you went outside onto your front patio instead. It was warm enough to not need a jacket out, so you enjoyed the light breeze blowing by you as you sat down on the front steps. The sky was clear, making the stars much more prominent than you’d seen in a long time.

It was peaceful like this. You missed it.

But of course, peace couldn’t last forever when Choi Beomgyu was near.

“I’m sorry.”

His tone, unlike before, was a soft whisper. A sound so quiet that it would have gotten lost in the wind if your ears weren’t so trained to listen for his voice. Even after years of not hearing it.

You closed your eyes for a moment before scoffing.

“What are you sorry for?”

Beomgyu sighed from behind you. “You know why.”

You only shook your head, but he wasn’t taking that.

“What happened between you and me…” he swallowed, struggling to get his next words out, “before you left…was so shitty of me. You didn’t deserve that.”

You bit your lip to stop the sigh that wanted to leave you. You’d already done that a lot tonight. “Beomgyu, please.”

“No!”

Beomgyu sat down beside you, his arm lightly grazing yours as he settled down.

“I was such a douchebag to you, Y/n. A-and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it!” he cried, running a hand through his hair frustratedly. “I know you must hate me after everything, I know I would–hell, I do!”

You shook your head again. It was literally your first night back. You never wanted to have this conversation, let alone so soon.

“I don’t want to talk about this.”

You went to get up, but Beomgyu softly grabbed your arm. The action was so sudden, it surprised you enough to look down at him and notice his sleeve was still rolled up. His rough arm led to the calloused hand that held your wrist, before it slowly slid to your hand.

“Please stay, Y/n. I’ve waited four years just to talk to you again. To see you again,” he pleaded. “You don’t want to hear me apologize? Okay, fine. But just…don’t leave me without you again.”

You stared down at him, finding it miraculous to see his eyes wide with emotion you couldn’t define, but being drawn in by how much they yearned. For you.

You sat back down on the step next to him and slipped your hand out of his. There was only so much you could handle.

It was silent for a while, with you not looking at him at all as you tried to calm your mind and erase the look in his eyes before you got stuck in the rabbit hole you’d spent years trying to climb out of.

“Well,” he cleared his throat to fill the silence between the both of you. “Besides the problematic factor of myself, how does it feel to be home?”

You felt a scoff leave your lips at his question and your predicament. You couldn’t believe this was happening.

“Weird question?” he asked, making you shake your head in slight disbelief and slight amusement.

“Everything about this is weird, Beomgyu,” you murmured.

He sighed in agreement, and probably nodded, but you wouldn’t know because you still refused to look at him.

“Yeah, I know…” he mumbled, letting the silence take over you both once again.

With the absence of conversation and his words being the last thing you heard, his dejected tone was something you pondered on. You know, there was a long period of time after you left that you’d only wanted to hear that kind of tone from him: sounding just as miserable and broken as he’d left you.

But actually hearing it from him, you realized you didn’t enjoy it all that much.

“I haven’t been able to see the stars like this in forever,” you whispered, choosing to focus on the sky. “If there was one thing I really missed from home, it was the sky.”

“Really?”

You nodded reluctantly, following the different constellations with your eyes. “I lived in the city for school. But even if we didn’t have the light pollution, it’s not like I ever had the time to look up and see them, anyway.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah.”

It was quiet for a moment, before Beomgyu spoke again.

“Did you have any stars out there?”

You sighed a little when you thought for a second on what he said. And then on what he really said.

“Not like this.”

He hummed in response, and left it at that, finally letting you just sit there for a long while in perfect silence.

From what you could remember of all the years of knowing Beomgyu, he was a loud person. Around family, friends, people he liked–he was like a ball of light bursting through every gloomy seam. Group settings were his specialty, whether he was the “coolest” guy in the room or not, he didn’t care; he would talk your ear off or tell a randomly hilarious story that either left you as the best of friends, or extremely weirded out. It didn’t matter to him, because when he was happy, everyone would know by how loud he was.

That’s why it would shock you, no matter how many times he did it, that he would get so mellow when it was just the two of you. You always adored the Beomgyu that could easily capture a room with just his laugh. But after learning about his other side, you would yearn even more for the Beomgyu that you felt like only you ever got to see. The him that came out when he was truly content and wasn’t “performing” for anyone.

You loved his loudness, but you also loved your quiet moments with him. They told you more about him than any other moments you had together. And after this particular moment with him, you realized this was probably the most you could let yourself handle for now.

“I really should head back in,” you muttered after what felt like an eternity.

Beomgyu sighed, not taking his eyes off of the sky above him. “I know.”

“You should go home.”

“I know.”

You slowly got up from your seat, patting off your legs, and started to move back inside. You’d made it to your door before you turned around and noticed Beomgyu hadn’t moved an inch, nor taken his eyes off of the stars. He had a frown marring his features, casting a deep line on his forehead that hadn’t been there four years ago. You could tell he wasn’t going to be moving for a while, which concerned you.

You bit your lip and rubbed one of your ears that you could already feel was starting to heat up.

“I don’t hate you,” you mumbled.

Beomgyu’s head snapped towards you, his eyes wide and his lips parted. “What?”

“I don’t hate you,” you repeated. “I never could, Beomgyu…even when I wanted to.”

He let out a deep breath and looked at you so softly, you used all of your energy and dignity to maintain eye contact.

“Goodnight, Beomgyu…”

You left after that, going back inside.

And despite arguing with yourself for years, you thought for a second that maybe you haven't changed that much, since you took a moment to peek outside the window beside the door to see Beomgyu slowly getting off your porch. He took his time, most likely lost in thought, as he eventually looked down from the stars to instead look back at your house. You quickly backed away from the window, glad he wouldn’t have been able to see you since it was so dark outside, but even more glad to see the line on his forehead gone as his lips parted once again with a small smile on his face.

“So, how was the game?” you asked over a bowl of cereal, looking up at Soobin.

The poor guy had dark bags under his reddened eyes, messy bed hair, and his face was puffier than usual. You’d been way past asleep by the time he had gotten home, but were eager to talk to him about his night when you woke up. Beomgyu had texted you not too long after you’d been up and about, but you figured you would “leave him waiting” to not come off as so desperate to talk to him. Instead, you went downstairs to eat some breakfast and weasel information out of your brother. Unfortunately for you, Soobin was out of commission for the next few hours. Even now, he was still not fully ready for a conversation.

“It was fun,” he yawned.

He rested his head on the table, while you tried not to laugh at him. You usually liked teasing Soobin, but he was too vulnerable at the moment, and you had a curiosity that could only be quenched by his answers.

“Define, ‘fun’. Did we win? Was the party crazy? Did you talk to that one girl you like? Did they play Bebe Rexha?”

He moaned. “Yes, yes, no, and of course they played Bebe Rexha! It’s not a party if she’s not there!”

You giggled at that, nodding in approval as you scooped another serving of your cereal. “That sounds so cool, I’m glad you had fun! Did you dance with anyone? What was the most memorable moment, oppa?”

“So many questions,” he groaned. “Why do you care so much?”

You lightly kicked his shin under the table. “You ditched me last night! This is literally the least you could do for me, oppa.”

The both of you squinted at the other, before Soobin gave in.

He thought for a moment, before he snorted and let out an ‘ah’. “I didn’t talk to any girls last night, so nothing crazy happened for me. But Beomgyu actually hooked up with one of the hottest girls in our grade and the whole grade is freaking out about it; Hyunjin and Jeongin have been blowing up my phone all morning.”

Your spoon tumbled from your fingers as you felt your stomach drop.

“Ah, Jesus, Y/n!” Soobin groaned, his head hurting from the sudden noise of your spoon clinking against your bowl, worsening his horribly hidden hangover.

“Oh, s-sorry oppa…” you mumbled, picking up your cereal.

“Hey, where are you going?” asked Soobin, lifting his head a little.

You gently placed your bowl in the sink and stuttered, “Uh, I, um–I gotta go finish my homework. I’ll s-see you later!”

And with that, you ran upstairs to text Beomgyu back.

from: beomgyuuu!! <3

did you wanna go for a ride today? this new corndog place just opened up and i was hoping you and i could go try it!

to: beomgyu

hey, i actually can’t today. gotta help my mom with something

from: beomgyu

ah bummer :(((

next time?

to: beomgyu

yeah, fs

from: beomgyu

great! I still owe you, so don’t let me forget it <3

You stared at the heart at the end of his message, feeling like it was mocking you. You should’ve known that promise didn’t mean what you thought, but you couldn’t help yourself.

Just like how you couldn’t help yourself for the next five years after that. This had only been the first of many times he would break your heart.

–> next <–

#txt #tomorrow x tomorrow #beomgyu #choi beomgyu #beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu x reader #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu angst #choi soobin #stupid cupid

97 notes · View notes