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bastillewolf · 4 years

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Shinigami Eyes (I)

Pairing: Corpse Husband / Reader

Summary: When you’re paired up with Corpse as imposters in a game of Among Us, you seem to somehow apprehend each others strategies even though it’s the first time you’ve ever played together. He appreciates a good impostor.

Notes: I know I still have many fics I need to finish, but I just wanted to throw out a quick Corpse one because sad to say I’ve been simping for him too. By the way, this is my interpretation of him and this is just for fun. Also, I haven’t written for second person in a while, so I’m sorry if this sucks.

TAG LIST CLOSED!

Shinigami Eyes - Oneshot

“Hey, I wanted to invite Corpse,” Sean said right as the Among Us theme started playing on your computer.

“Great vooooice,” Grease called out.

“Oh, I haven’t played with him before,” you said. It was true, but you’d heard of his legendary voice before and your viewers had been asking for him. You’d only allow it because No Simp September was over. Chat was already going mad.

“You’ll love him. Unless he murders you, because he’s a great imposter,” Sean replies. “He’s too good,” Felix adds.

After a moment, you heard the familiar noise of someone joining the Discord. “Hello everyone,” a deep rumble greeted. The group all said their welcomes, while you introduced yourself. “Very nice to meet you, Corpse,” you added. You didn’t want to comment on the obvious. He must hear it all the time. But you couldn’t deny it was like silk to your ears.

“Nice to meet you to. You make great vids.” A blush spread across your cheeks, “You shouldn’t say things like that, chat is already jealous.” He chuckled.

5… 4… 3… 2… 1…

Impostor

Great, you’re instantly sweating. Thankfully, though, it seems you were lucky enough to have been teamed up with the king of lying himself. Corpse’s name is as bloodred as yours.

You decide to follow him after Toast and Sean, and think about how it was Sean who ironically invited the person who was going to murder him in just a few moments. All four of you were being decontaminated below lab, when Corpse made stepped a tad closer to him. You almost synchronically chopped their heads off, and you squealed in excitement. 2 down, 4 to go. As long as no one would find their bodies for a while, you still had time.

Next thing, you’re out of the South entrance and you’ve split up. You join Sykkuno in electric and just wait on him to do his task. Felix joins you afterwards in the next room. That’s when Toast’s body, and ultimately Sean’s, is reported.

Corpse had run back and self-reported.

“Corpse and I just ran into decontamination and found Sean and Toast,” Rae announced.

You were still muted. “Oh god, he’s playing a dangerous game.”

Sykkuno decided it would be the perfect time to call you out. “You and Felix only joined me a while later and decided to stay. Kinda sus of you.”

“No, she was with me at the beginning. I watched her do a task in office,” your fellow impostor vouched. They’d been right, he’s a damn good liar. He manages to hide any sliver of emotion in that deep baritone.

“I don’t trust Corpse anymore, he does stuff like this all the time when he’s impostor,” Lily noted.

“Stuff like what?” He huffed in amusement.

The group agreed the accusation made was a bit vague, and it had affectively directed the attention away from you and onto Felix. After another round of some serious investigating and threatening you all decided to skip.

“Corpse makes me feel less nervous about being an impostor,” you tell chat, “He seems so chill about it.” You ran down to Weapons, but decided against killing anyone when you found three people doing tasks there. You shoved yourself into the clump of bodies and waited until everyone had finished. Running back up to centre with both Lily and Rae, you felt restless that you would eventually have to kill one of them. You just hoped they wouldn’t take it personally.

Corpse ran past, alone. Your characters didn’t have eyes, but somehow they showed a mutual understanding. He killed Lily, you killed Rae. You sputtered and chortled and followed right on after him down into the venthole. He met you in the bathroom stall. “Cosy,” you joked. Until Grease walked in. “Oh, that’s awkward.” You realized you were still standing suspiciously over the venthole. “Shit.”

You didn’t know where Grease had gone, but your first instinct was to hit the red emergency meeting button in the Office. “Grease was in the bathroom stall hovering over a vent.” You may not have your fellow impostors emotionless tone, but you knew laughing through your accusation usually worked.

“Are you kidding me?! I just saw you and Corpse standing in there doing I don’t know what!” Grease yelled.

“That’s a bold statement. You know I’d never cheat on Sykkuno,” Corpse said. “Wait, what?” the man in question replied. Corpse ignored him.

“Corpse was with me when I found you there. On another note I don’t think I’ve ever seen two people vent at the same time before.” Two truths, technically.

“Alright, I’m voting Grease,” Felix said, “I’m sensing liar voice.”

Sykkuno suspected Grease and you, but promised he’d vote you out after if he was wrong. “We have to vote now,” you reminded them.

Grease was ejected.

You met Corpse again in laboratory, where only Felix was doing a task. No one moved. “Oh no, you may have the honours,” you gracefully called out to an unsuspecting impostor. He seemed to get the message through however, and swiftly killed Felix when the Kill button was set to press again.

Defeat.

“Oh my god, that was so stressful,” you cried out. Corpse chuckled, “Don’t worry, you did great.”

“Hey, don’t you dare steal him,” Sean threatened, “He’s my impostor mate!” You laughed.

“You murdered me and Lily almost synchronically,” Rae sputtered, to which Sean added, “Oh my god, same here. It was some nasty psychic shit.” “Corpse and I just have the Shinigami eyes,” you explained. You saw Corpse’s name flash in the top left corner, but only heard him exhale in amusement. It was cute.

5… 4… 3… 2… 1…

Impostor

“Oh… my… god.” Has this ever happened before in this game? Either way, no one will suspect both of you to be it again. You imagine he was feeling similarly, as he hadn’t moved from the spawn point yet. “How in the fuck…?” Chat was confused, but seemed to enjoy the spectacle.

You and corpse split up this time. Don’t use the same tactics twice.

You followed Felix and Sykkuno into Office and faked a task. They decided to wait for you, and you kept your eyes on the green bar until it moved. You travelled trough Admin and Decontamination until you met up with Lily in Labs. “Shit,” you murmured, “There’s too many people. I’m gonna look suspicious.”

Corpse showed up. Lily and Sykkuno left. You killed Felix. Toast walked in, and unfortunately at the hands of your teammate, he did become toast.

You ran in a circle around him and hoped it was enough of a hint for him to follow you. He picked up on it and followed you into the bathroom stall. But neither of you vented. You let a smile slip, almost forgetting you had a face cam. Awkwardly clearing your throat, you explained to your viewers in a very non-convincing way this was just a good impostor strategy. They’d do well to learn from it.

The bodies were reported instantly, and you cursed under your breath. Lily was the one who reported it. “So, I found Felix in Labs and there were only two other people in there before me and Sykkuno left.”

“I went down through Decontamination,” you explained, “I lost Corpse back at Labs.”

“I went back North, I passed you on the way there, Lily.”

Lily was sus of you. “What? Why?!” You asked. “Because I didn’t see anyone in Decontamination and there’s no way you could’ve gone through there that quickly. I wasn’t gone that long,” she said.

Well, shit. “Weren’t the lights off? You couldn’t possibly see me in Decontamination. I’m wondering why you walked back into Labs anyway, Lily.”

A series of ‘ooh’s were heard through the Discord call.

“But I was running up that hallway, I didn’t see you come out,” Grease suddenly spoke up.

“Why were you in there, Grease?” Corpse asked, but you knew it was already too late.

“I was running up to do my task in Labs. I didn’t see her come through the doors before the body was reported.”

“I wasn’t out of Decontamination yet,” you ground out. It was of no use, however. More than half of the people left voted you out, including Lily, Grease, Sean and Corpse, since he had an image to maintain as fake crewmember.

HeartEyes was ejected.

You decided, both out of your own interest and for content’s sake, to follow Corpse as a ghost. He seemed to be having the same trouble as you, suddenly being surrounded by a group of people. “That’s rough. He’s gonna have to kill five more people.”

That was when he bravely decided to take action. Sabotage the reactor, follow everyone there, jump into the lump of people trying to fix the problem and kill so no one would know who did it. He self-reported it in the blink of an eye.

The group was indeed confused, to say the least. Grease had died. “Wait, who was the last to come in?” Sean asked. “It was me,” Corpse admitted, “But I did the handprint scan because no one else was doing it. Weren’t you standing there doing that with Lily?” “Yeah, I had to wait because it wasn’t working.”

“What?!” Lily exclaimed, in only a way she could, “I was doing the scan! It was Sean, then!” The two suspects were starting a heavy discussion, whilst your eyes were trained on the red of Corpse’s name.

The group decided to vote out Lily, as she was the one to report the last murder.

“Is he just… Killing the people who voted for me?” you muttered. Shaking your head, you continued, “Nah, it has to be coincidence.”

But then a body was found, and Corpse said he suspected Sean again. Was he actually working down the list? “Is he avenging me? That’s so sweet, no one has ever done that for me before…” Just a video game, you had to remind yourself. It was just a video game you were playing with friends. And a man with a very nice voice who’d just murdered everyone who did you wrong. Just a game, yes.

Turns out, Corpse really knew how to put his voice to use, as Sean was ejected. He managed to kill Sykkuno and Dave after that, and the game was won by the imposters.

“AGAIN?!” Felix yelled, “How did you two get teamed up again?!” “That’s bullshit,” Sean laughed.

You smiled, as Corpse said, “Us Shinigami’s have to stick together.” It made you blush. “Thanks for avenging me, Corpse. That was very sweet of you.” He chuckled, “Any time. I don’t mind killing people when I have a good teammate.”

“Hey! I’m still here too, you know!” Sean yelled upset.

“It was really fun playing with you guys,” you said, stretching your arms. You’d already been streaming for three hours, it was time to go. Everyone said goodbye, but you didn’t hear Corpse. And you wished it hadn’t twisted your stomach in the way it did.

You wished your viewers a nice day, and promised to update them on Twitter when you’d be streaming next. You were done for the day.

Yet, as you’d closed all tabs and were about to close Discord, you got a call. It was private, and it was from Corpse.

“Hey, miss me already?” you jokingly said.

He chuckled quietly. He suddenly seemed a lot shyer now, being extracted from the group. “Nice game.”

“Yeah, you really know how to keep your emotions hidden. I was impressed, to say the least.”

“You were really good, too. I can appreciate a good imposter.”

You bit your lip. “Hm, I hope to see some more of that appreciation in the future. It was rather nice having someone avenge me.”

“I’d do it again any time. Hiding in the toilet was a good strategy, by the way.”

You snorted at that, “Not good enough, it seems. They voted me out.”

“Big mistake. Nobody kills my teammate.”

“Aww, did the Shinigami catch feelings for the human?”

He rumbled, “I thought you weren’t human?”

You didn’t comment on the fact that he’d failed to answer the original suggestion you’d made. “Touché.”

It was quiet for a moment, and you wondered if you’d crossed a line there and made the wrong assumptions about where the conversation was going. You quickly added, “Are you playing again this week?”

“Yeah, Sean said they’d stream again this Thursday.”

“I suppose I’ll see you there, then.”

He hummed. You sensed there was more to it, though. He hadn’t made any indication he wanted to end the call yet. But then he finally said, “I hope we get teamed up again. So you can get your own revenge.”

“I hope so too.”

***

Might do a follow up to this oneshot, if anyone asks for it. Will definitely create more for Corpse, he’s a lot of fun to write.

#Corpse Husband #Corpse #Corpse x reader #corpse husband x reader #jacksepticeye #pewdiepie #youtube fanfiction

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maplecornia · 3 years

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Chapter 3

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 3.06K

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You watched them from the sidelines ever since you were a young teenage girl. Now you’re grown up, they’ve returned after 2 long years and everything has changed. What happens when you pull back the mask and find the darkness within? What happens when you see that they’re broken?

𝔞/𝔫: everytime I upload a chapter my tags increase LMAO i hope you guys are enjoying the story so far ^^ BTW when they're speaking and their words are bolded that means they're speaking in English just a heads up ;)

tags: @kookaine | @fangirl125reader | @kookiebbyxx | @taradevonne

What is he doing here?

And whose clothes do those belong to?

You mouth his name, and in his eyes, you can see the surprise turn to shame.

The sick feeling in your stomach grows bigger.

You pray that you're wrong. That for the first time in your life, your intuition isn't correct. That what you think happened was merely a misunderstanding. That he didn't do what you think he did.

You want to reassure yourself that you didn't give up your heart in vain.

That he still loves you.

But everything points to the signs.

The fact that he only wears boxers, his smooth muscled skin shining in the soft moonlight.

The pile of mixed clothes on the floor.

The look in his eyes and the ruffled mess of his hair.

Everything tells you what you already know.

"What's going on?" you ask, your voice shaking. He doesn't meet your eyes.

The sick feeling grows deeper in your chest.

"What's going on?" you repeat, your voice stronger and more severe.

Even if your heart can't stand strong, at least you can.

He opens his mouth to reply, but instead, you hear a woman's voice from the bedroom.

Your bedroom.

"Babe, who is that?" you can't seem to look away from the door that it materialized from, as he looks between it and you, unsure of what to do. As though he were the one trapped. As though he were the one who was in pain. As though he were the victim here.

Instead of the murderer.

As she comes into view in the doorway, rubbing her eyes and running her hands through her hair, you can't move. You're frozen, and the world completely disappears, a roar of static noise rising in your ears.

No.

NO.

This can't be happening. Not to you. You were so careful. You were so sure. So sure that he felt the same. So sure that he was yours and yours alone. So sure that nothing would be able to break what you shared. That you had finally found the one.

However, as she looks at you, her green eyes spark with realization. Then as they quickly turn to shame, she avoids your gaze as well.

You know.

This is happening.

It's real.

And there's no turning back from it.

You can't feel yourself as you start to cry.

In the shower, the hot water clings to your skin, mixing with the tears. You lean against the tiled wall, squeezing your eyes shut, you cling to yourself. Nails digging into your flesh, you bite your lip, shaking violently.

Mixed images of his face flash through your mind unwillingly.

Hiding alone, the steam surrounding you in a thick veil of deception, you give in to the pain.

You allow the tears to come.

You allow his face to stare into yours once more. You paint the same hazelnut gaze of his eyes. You try to recall the safety you once felt when he held you in his arms. You pull pieces of the same warmth that rose in your cold body flushing your face when he smiled at you, out of the depths of your mind. You look for the tenderness reflecting in his eyes when he whispered that he loved you. You sigh as you remember the way his curly hair had felt on your skin as you ran your hands through it. You picture his perfectly sculpted face, high cheekbones, and long eyelashes. The strong jaw and full lips. The curve of his throat and the touch of his body.

The mirage holds you in its embrace, makes you forget everything, all the pain, all the hurt, the betrayal that tore your soul apart for his pleasure.

However, when it leans in to kiss you, your eyes fly open to reality, and you find yourself hugging your body, the shower still running.

Shaking your head, you proceed to clean yourself, hoping that perhaps the water could wash away the pain.

Some things weren't enough. Some things are not good to dwell over. Some things are better left locked away.

In the end, it wasn't real.

None of it was real.

Done with the shower, you turn the water off, strands of hair falling in your face, and droplets of water dripping off of your body.

Was any part you enough to keep him?

Was this body?

Was it enough to have him wait for you?

Looking down at yourself, you press your fingers against your stomach, pulling at the flesh and skin as though it would change anything.

Were you enough?

Shaking the thought out of your mind, you reach for your towel as you open the shower curtain and step out into the steamy bathroom. Flipping on the fan switch, you dry yourself off, avoiding the reflection in the mirror. You lotion your body down, before pulling on your bra and underwear. Ignoring the drips from your hair, you tug on a loose T-shirt and shorts, and shake out your head, water falling everywhere as though you were a wet dog.

Sighing, you turn to the mirror, where fog from the shower is fading, water droplets trailing down like rain and making pathways. You follow them with your eyes for a moment before, in a sudden urge, you swipe your hand across the screen, destroying their peaceful journey. What's left of your reflection.

Staring into your eyes, you can see just how tired you look. Just how worn down you are. Touching just below your eye, the dark circles under your eyes from restless nights of tears and loss of sleep stand out like a stain on your skin.

What has he done to you?

This isn't you, this isn't who you are.

What has he turned you into?

Sighing, you turn away from the mirror and pull on your robe.

Drying your hair off with your towel, you pull open the door and walk outside, your wet feet slapping on the crisp wood floor as you make your way into the living room.

You look around for any sign of Jae or Miji, but they are nowhere to be seen. Glancing over at the kitchen island, you spot a small piece of paper. Taking it into your fingers, you read the neat block letters of Jaejin's handwriting. His Korean alphabet is so structured, so neat and so straight as though it were the writing of a computer. It reads:

“Hey, I’m sorry we left, but Mijeong prepared a surprise birthday dinner for me tonight, we’ll be back later so help yourself to make dinner or whatever. Remember this is your home now too, I love you!!”

You smile at the thoughtful letter and pocket it in your robe.

You had prepared a gift for Jae today yourself, but you'd reckon you'd just give it to him later.

Turning to the room you take a deep breath before beginning to explore.

The living room is very spacious, which you prefer. The TV is elevated on the left wall from the kitchen, the couch positioned against the right wall across from the screen. In the middle of the room, there is a cute small glass coffee table with forgotten magazines and books laying on top of it. Underneath the TV there are many different bookshelves with movies, books, and magazines shelved on them. All around the apartment, there are potted plants, cute decorations, and some photographs.

Stepping onto the carpet, you dig your feet into it as though it were the warm sand on the beach.

"I would have been fine sleeping on this floor, you know. This is like heaven." You murmur to yourself, closing your eyes in content. You wait there for a moment before the soft plinks of rain begin outside, knocking you out of your stupor.

Opening your eyes, you turn to the balcony's clear screen door and press your hand against it. Gazing outside, you smile at the sight of rain against the lights of the city. Opening the door a crack, you close your eyes, taking a deep breath.

After a moment, you step back inside and shut the screen door, turning to the kitchen. You pull out a pot and fill it with water before setting it on the ceramic stove and heating it. As you wait for it to boil, you pull out your phone and turn the notifications off from vibration. As soon as you do, you click on your Instagram and into the group chat you share with your friends.

Looking through, you can't help but feel a bit conflicted.

Biting your lip, your finger hovers over the message box before you quickly pull away and place your phone on the counter. Letting out a shaky breath, you swallow the lump rising dangerously in your throat before looking away.

You're sensitive today.

You knew it was going to be like this.

When you moved in the middle of high school back home, it was the same. Their lives carried on without you. They still had fun, they still had other things to do, they still had a life outside of you. Outside of you being there.

Things were different.

They were still your friends, they'll always be your friends, but they weren't the same.

Will they ever be the same?

When you hear the crackling of the boiling water, your head snaps up and you pocket the phone once more. You pull the pot off the stove and grab a mug out of one of the many cabinets in Jae's kitchen. As you set it beside the cooling water on the counter, you search his pantry for a cocoa mix. Normally you would have tea, but right after the sight of the rain, you're in the mood for something to warm you from the inside out.

Something to remind you of home.

On cold, rainy days after you and your friends would practice at the dance studio, or finish having a meal together or anything simple like that; you would hurry home and with your group, you would make them cocoa. You would start a fire and would sit with each other spending the time together, happy and complete.

The nostalgia and sadness growing too much, you are relieved when you find the hot cocoa packets. You let out a little shout of happiness and accomplishment before walking out of the pantry and dumping the contents into the cup. Setting the packet aside, you take the pot of water and carefully pour it into the cup as well. While the powder and water slowly swirl together, you rummage for a spoon before mixing it. Once you're satisfied, you sip it carefully and...

...almost burn your tongue off.

Coughing violently, you set it down and focus on putting away everything you brought out, giving it time to cool off. Once everything is done and put away, you pick up your mug, holding it to your face as you softly blow on it. Even now the smell and the warmth of it is getting rid of the chill you feel whenever you're alone.

Settling yourself amongst the blankets and pillows on the couch, you take the TV remote off of the coffee table and turn on the TV. Netflix pops up and you search for a K- drama you were watching before you left. When you find it, you press play, leaving off captions so that you can practice your Korean a bit more.

As the intro starts, you hum along to it, setting up a sort of bed so you can watch comfortably. Once it's done, you lay down, your head sinking into a pillow comfortably, and a soft gray blanket pulled over your body. You're in a position so that you can still lounge but won't spill your cocoa.

As the show begins, you mouth the words along with them. When you can't catch what they say, you're quick to rewind it and try it again until you understand. You laugh with the show, cry with it, finding yourself on an emotional roller coaster.

You've always been like this, too emotional, too easily attached, too naive. Always careful to keep yourself at a reasonable distance from anyone who could hurt you. From anyone who you couldn't handle if they left you. It takes a while for you to open yourself up to someone, and when you do, you're wholly and completely theirs.

It's a lose-lose situation.

A lose-lose way of life.

Before you know it, the cocoa is gone and the episode is almost over. Setting the mug on the coffee table, you settle back into the pillow. As you watch, your eyes grow heavy, and you drift further and further away. The last thing you see before you close them is their touching kiss before they flutter shut and you fall into a restless sleep.

Hours pass as you lie there on the couch, sleeping. The show continues to play until the question "are you still watching?" shows up on the screen as it often does when you've been watching for a while without much activity.

Once the show is off, the apartment goes silent and it seems almost empty. In the far background, there are the sounds of cars honking, the screech of tires on the pavement, even the sound of music from the billboards and clubs.

This is like home, these sounds are familiar. These are the reasons why you sleep so soundly, hugging the pillow as though it were your lifeline.

You do not wake when Mijeong and Jaejin enter the apartment. They are laughing, but as soon as they see you on the couch, fast asleep, they fall quiet, each one of them smiling softly.

They hold unimaginable compassion for you and deep love.

Mijeong immediately sets down her stuff, sliding out of her shoes and walking towards you. Tenderly, she brushes back your hair as though she were your mother taking care of you.

“She’s sound asleep.” She whispers, just as Jaejin joins her side.

“That’s not like her. She’s such a light sleeper, she would have woken up when we came home.” He replies worry reflected in his eyes. Mijeong’s smile, at his statement, fades away and she nods.

“She must be in so much pain that she wants to drown out the world around her,” Mijeong says sadly before standing up and clearing her throat.

“Let's take her to her room.” When Jaejin doesn't move, she gives him an expectant look and he jolts to attention. She hits him softly on his arm and he lets out a slight joking yelp.

"I was going to do it, I just wasn't ready yet." He whines, and she chuckles before leading the way to your room as Jaejin picks you up with strong, sure arms. Cradled in his arms as though you were a baby, he looks down at you with a tender look. He hates that he can't help you.

No one can.

He smiles how sound asleep you are now, cradled in his arms, your head resting against the crook of his neck. Mijeong, watching the encounter, smiles as well. He notices her look and his attention changes immediately from you to her in a second.

“What is it?” he asks, and she shakes her head, opening the door to your newly acclaimed bedroom.

“Nothing.” She says but a sly smile is playing at her lips, as though she’s concealing a secret. Which she is. A secret that, at that moment, she thought he would make a great father. A secret that at that moment, she wanted things with him that were far off in the future, but very real to her now.

As they walk into your room, Mijeong pulls back the covers, and Jaejin sets you down softly on the bed. Once you are out of his arms, and Mijeong pulls the covers up over your body, you settle instinctively into the soft mattress, and immediately curl up into a ball, holding tightly to one of the many pillows on your bed. They smile as they watch over you, and Jaejin presses a soft kiss on your forehead. Mijeong does the same, brushing back strands of hair on your forehead. Turning around, they share a tender look before walking out of the room and cracking the door shut behind them.

“Are you sure that she’ll be okay?” Mijeong asks as soon as the door is shut. Jaejin looks at her a bit surprised.

“Of course. Why, are you having second thoughts?” he asks before heading into the living room, Mijeong not far behind.

"No. I'm not, I just....I wish we could tell her before we do anything. She's going to wake up and we'll be gone." Mijeong explains, following him and settling on the counter. Jaejin pauses from setting the living room in order and turns to her. He takes her hand in his own and kisses her softly on the forehead before pressing his forehead to hers tenderly.

"I love you, and I wish we could have told her before we leave tomorrow, but she will be okay. She'll have the apartment, and my job at Big Hit to take over. Everything will be okay." He reassures her. Mijeong hesitates before nodding her head in agreement. Jaejin smiles, before pulling away and turning off the TV. "Besides, I'll leave her a note just like we did tonight before we take off in the morning. This is just too much of an amazing opportunity for you and for me to waste."

"I know." Mijeong answers, rocking on the counter as she swings her legs back and forth. "Not every model gets a chance to appear at Fashion Week, but Jae....she'll be all alone."

Done with ordering the room, he chuckles as he begins to make his way back to her.

"She is a grown-up you know. It’s only a few months, she can take care of herself." He says, pulling her off the counter and spinning around in the air before setting her down as she giggles and leans on him, a little dizzy.

"Don't worry," he reassures her once more before heading into their room, his voice fading as he closes the door behind him.

"Yen will be okay. She always is."

𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢: thanks to everyone who read! so why do you think miss Yen moved to Korea?

I'm going to be updating my mutuals list (because I never had it to begin with ;-;) on my navigation so if you want to be added, pls ask me ^^ thankssss

chapter 4 here

check the Infinite Stars masterlist for more chapters

check my BTS masterlist for other BTS content

check out my masterlist for other kpop fanfics

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whatifxwereyou · 3 years

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Firestorm Part 2: Determination

Fandom: Mortal Kombat 2021 Liu Kang x Reader

A/N: That plot getting real again tho. It's funny to me how different the plots for both sides have become just from one little decision. Thank you guys for the support.

If you would like to be tagged for Firestorm when I post, let me know. I'll start a tag list.

The Oncoming Storm Part 1 Part 3 Chapter Index

“What else can you remember?” Feng tapped his fingers against the charcoal. He’d done several sketches of the demon-looking creature that you’d seen in your visions but none of them had come out quite right. It was like the image that had once been clear had become jumbled up when you tried to describe it. It was deeply upsetting honestly. To think that someone’s power over you could be so strong that they could literally twist images in your brain. You felt betrayed by your brain.

Feng had the patience of a saint for dealing with your confusion. You were no artist either, so describing the creature had been exceptionally difficult. You had five portraits to work from and each of them was startlingly different. You hoped that at least one of them was accurate enough for Raiden to recognize.

“The horns were different.” You struggled to remember and rotated your pained shoulder. It had been heavier that day for whatever reason.

“Are you okay, Y/N? Do we need to stop for today?” Feng set the sketchpad down in his lap with concerned eyes.

“What?” You hadn’t realized that you’d been cradling your arm to your chest. Oops. You let it go but it ached in objection. “No, I’m fine. We can keep going.”

“Okay…” He drifted off nervously and began to alter the horns on the sketch. Then he stopped again with a heavy sigh. “Maybe you should go get that looked at,” he whispered as though others could overhear even though you were very much alone. You stole a glance at the mark that spread from your shoulder to your chest. It was red, enflamed, and swollen.

“It’s probably just all this rain.”

“I’d feel more comfortable if you got it looked at.” Feng bowed his head politely. You sighed heavily again. He was worried about you, yes, but you knew your limits. You were tired of being treated like you didn’t, but you also understood his concern. It wasn’t just that he was worried about you, either. The latest ‘tea’ was that you were dangerous and unpredictable. “You seem distracted. We can pick it back up after you’re less pained.”

“If that’s what would make you comfortable, then fine.” You wouldn’t argue with him anymore. It wasn’t worth it. Feng went about gathering his art supplies and you focused on your shoulder. The crack ached deeply, like someone had run a hot knife through it while you’d been sleeping. “Thank you for the help, Feng.” You yelled after him when he practically ran from the room.

People had taken to treating you like a ticking timebomb. You’d played into it a few times because it had been ridiculous. You tried not to let it bother you but on and off it had. Your shoulder was bad today so maybe Feng was right. You should stop by the infirmary. Plus, you hadn’t seen Chen yet today and it would be nice to chat with someone who wasn’t afraid of you. As much as you wanted to sit around and enjoy the storm, when left alone with your thoughts, you couldn’t stop thinking about your conversation with Liu Kang from the night before.

The infirmary it was.

“Oh, good!” Chen stomped angrily toward you as you approached the infirmary. You looked behind you to make sure that there wasn’t someone there that deserved this much of Chen’s wrath. You’d never seen Chen that aggressive before. In fact, you had been certain that nothing bothered Chen enough to make you stomp around. Oh, how wrong you were. “I need to talk to you about those boys.”

“Could you be any louder about it?” You didn’t turn red this time. You’d grown tougher skin since the last time Chen had teased you. “And can you look at my shoulder first? Or during? I don’t care when as long as you look at it.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Uh… it’s swollen and it hurts.” You couldn’t believe Chen’s attitude. Chen grabbed your wrist and pulled you into the infirmary. With a twist of your wrist, you were forced to sit down. You held your hand then protectively away from Chen who wasn’t being at all gentle. “If you aren’t going to be nice to me then I will ask one of the other monks to help.” Your shoulder was now throbbing after Chen’s pulling. Your stomach churned like you’d eaten something bad.

Chen seemed to consider then and then sighed. “You are kind of gray, I suppose. What did you do to upset it? Did you overwork it like I told you not to?”

“Why do you assume that I did something wrong?”

“You have a track record, Y/N.”

“I think it’s the weather. Feng practically fled from me because of it.” You held your arm protectively against your chest as Chen reached for it. “Are you going to be nice? It hurts. I don’t need you tugging on it unnecessarily.”

“Yes, I promise. I’m sorry.” Chen took a breath and finally smiled. “After we took a look, we are discussing those boys though.”

“Quieter, please.”

“Oh hush, Y/N, everyone here knows what’s going on and I have a lot to say. I can’t be blamed for my tone right now.” Chen tugged your arm free, and you yelped and saw stars. You fanned your face with your other hand when it became way too hot very suddenly. Your lips were tingling.

“Chen, you’ve got to…”

“I overheard those two sneaks talking and…”

“Chen?” You scooted to the edge of the bench and spoke with urgency. Your head was spinning. You might vomit. Oh no. It was too hot in there. Had it been that hot in there when you’d arrived? Were you just now noticing?

“Don’t avoid the topic, Y/N.”

“Chen, I think she’s being serious.” One of the other monks came over to you and clasped Chen’s shoulder. Your ears were ringing. You saw the two of them arguing. The monk was pointing at you while he argued with Chen. Then you fell forward, and everything went black before you hit the floor.

***

Stone was hot beneath your body. Burning. You sat up, rubbing the sore spot on your head from hitting the ground but every movement was like you were stuck in molasses. The wind was whipping at you, and your hair flew wildly around you. The air was red hot and instead of rain fell embers.

You were atop a mountain. How had you gotten outside? Lightning struck all around you and the stone beneath you began to crumble. You could see it falling on top of the buildings below. People were screaming. A thousand voices overlapped, crying in pain, and calling for help. You managed to crawl to the edge of the crumbling mountain but was thrown back as lightning struck too close to you. Flames raged from below.

The temple was on fire. You tried to make your way over the edge, but your shoulder felt as though hooks had been driven into it, hooks that were attached to weights.

The storm! You realized, deafened by the roar of fire and the grumble of thunder what this was.

It was going to damage the temple.

People were going to die.

You had to do something, but the weight was too much. It dragged you down. You could barely move. People were screaming over the thunder, over the fire. You could smell burnt flesh. There was no escape from it, and you sat in agony, helpless amongst the fire and the death.

***

You sat up with a start and a gasp. The infirmary spun. You were on the floor and spotted Chen about ten times as the world spun. You were coated in a thin sheen of sweat and your body was trembling.

“Oh, oh no… no lay down, Y/N. Lay down.” Chen carefully urged you to lay back, but you fought her. Then you stopped and gulped, feeling the burning of nausea in the back of your throat. “Please! Lay down, Y/N.” The other monks were gathered nearby but had left a wide berth around you just in case. There was no ink that you could see, so there was that.

“I need to talk to Raiden, it’s urgent.” You muttered, pushing Chen’s hand away from you. Chen grasped your pained shoulder and you hissed in objection. “Chen!”

“You had a fit, Y/N. You need to lay down. Take it easy. Did you have a vision? There wasn’t any ink, you just collapsed and smacked your head on the floor.” Chen was checking your pupils and you were trying very much to escape the death grip Chen had on your shoulder.

“I had a vision, I need to…”

“Lord Raiden?” One of the monks spoke in surprise. Then they were all bowing as the god entered the room. Chen relaxed her grip on your shoulder in surprise and then stepped back and bowed low to the floor. Raiden had known that you needed to speak with him.

“What is it, Y/N?” He crouched low by your side. His presence was more imposing than ever, but you felt so afraid by what you’d seen that you weren’t intimidated.

“I saw something. There’s going to be… an accident.” You held your head in frustration as you struggled with words. There was a knot right on the side of your head above your ear from where you’d fallen. Why couldn’t you just say it? There was going to be a collapse! A fire! Lightning would strike the mountain and there would be devastation. The words were there but by the time they reached your mouth they were gone. You couldn’t seem to translate the images into words, and you had never been more frustrated. “Ugh.” You held your head in your hands and grasped your hair in annoyance. “It’s important but I… I can’t…”

“Can you show me?”

“I…” You hesitated. The infirmary was filled with people, and you were terrified of putting them in danger. Nothing good had ever happened while you were sharing visions with Raiden. What if they got hurt? It was one thing to hurt Liu Kang, a trained warrior who had put himself in harm’s way. This was another thing entirely. You suddenly realized just how dangerous you truly were.

“I will take you somewhere isolated.” Raiden seemed to read your mind. Either that or your expression had said is quite plainly. Before you could add that it was urgent, Raiden grasped your arm. Lightning crackled and you had returned to the chamber you’d referred to mentally as his. Raiden helped you get to your feet and then urged you to take a seat on a bench near the wall. “You’re pale.”

“I don’t… that’s not important. What I saw, Raiden. It’s urgent.” You didn’t care that you were sick or dizzy or pale. Whatever. If what you saw was going to happen during the storm, then it would be happening soon. You needed Raiden to see what you saw and interpret it for you. It occurred to you that not all visions would be accurate. Some of them could have been that creature screwing with you, taunting you.

“Yes, of course.” Raiden looked hesitant though you couldn’t say why. This was urgent.

“Please.”

Raiden placed his hand atop your head. Then with a crushing pressure you were gone. Like a light had been turned off inside of you. There was nothing. No pain. No struggling. No visions.

Just darkness.

Then you woke up.

The room that spun around you was one you didn’t recognize. Location didn’t matter anymore. At least you were awake. Your heart was racing like it was going to take flight, as though you had spent hours running beyond exhaustion. You sat up with a grunt but then Chen was pushing you to lay back down again.

Ugh.

“Relax, Y/N. You’re safe.” Chen reassured you but her expression betrayed her. She looked exhausted and worried. She was stuck on Y/N-duty again. Poor Chen. You bet that she regretted getting close to you now with all the extra work she had to do. “Please listen to me for once. I need you to lay and relax. You have a fever but you’re okay.”

“My heart.” You patted your chest nervously to mimic the beating of your heart.

“It’s stress but you’re okay. It’ll calm down.” Chen assured you but picked up your wrist and took your pulse anyway.

“What happened? Is everything okay? Did…” You drifted off as you forced yourself up on your elbows. Your whole left side was tingling and numb. Chen frowned at you disapprovingly.

“Raiden saw. It’s okay, Y/N. Lightning struck the mountain on the other side of the ravine but…” Chen then held her finger up to silence you so she could count. You held your breath, hoping that Chen would tell you more. Then Chen swatted you for holding your breath and you pouted.

Raiden’s presence made you both turn your heads toward the doorway. “Leave us.” He ordered in a stern tone but then bowed his head as if realizing he’d spoken too harshly. Chen sighed, frustrated, and then gently squeezed your hand.

“I’ll find you later.”

“Thank you, Chen.” You carefully pushed yourself so that you were sitting upright. Your shoulder throbbed and your left arm felt numb and useless. You cradled it to your body with your other hand. Raiden sat down on the edge of the bed, hands on his knees.

“You saved a great many people today.”

“I didn’t do anything, I don’t…”

“You did.” Raiden looked to you from the corner of his eye. “I was able to see your vision and minimize the damage. Lives were saved.” He then bowed his head. “The devastation you foresaw was tremendous. Because you were able to communicate your vision to me, we caught it before it happened.”

“I didn’t do anything. I don’t- I don’t want that credit.” You frowned. You really hadn’t done anything worthy of praise.

“You saw.” Raiden’s expression was serious. You felt again like a little girl who had disobeyed her father, so you didn’t object. “That creature told you that you would not see, and you saw anyway. You were meant to see, Y/N.”

You hadn’t thought of it that way.

You hadn’t thought about the fact that you were terrible at this was because of that creature. He stifled your ability to see. Duh. But you’d seen anyway. Raiden had said it with such pride that you felt a little proud. Even though seeing had kicked your ass, it had been worth it.

“We will find a way to separate you from this curse. You will see clearly. You will see and you will fight.”

You teared up.

You stuttered, wanting to thank him for his help, for his belief in you but no words came out. You wiped your eyes. Much to your surprise, Raiden hugged you. It was a fatherly hug, something that you hadn’t felt in so long that you weren’t sure how to emotionally respond to it. You had never been close with your father. In fact, he’d frightened you. He’d never hurt you but he’d been imposing.

“I’m sorry that I hurt you.” He let you go and you pulled back, adjusting to sit against the wall behind you. You were exhausted but at least the feeling was returning to your arm.

“Oh no, no Raiden. I’m not. You had to. I was… out of control.” You hadn’t blamed him. You had hurt Liu and the ink had been filling the room. You’d needed to be stopped and he’d done what he thought was right.

“I hurt you more than I intended. I’m still sorry.”

“It’s okay. I have more than forgiven you.”

“I’ve moved the artifacts somewhere safe. I’m hoping that the distance will offer you some relief.” Raiden got up and was back to his usual composed and intimidating self. You tried not to smile. It had been exceedingly kind of him to reassure you. Sweet, even. “If we can get control of your visions and your arcana so that they are at least less destructive then it is a step in the right direction. I want you to work on that when you’re feeling a little better. You must survive long enough to discover who has done this and why. Why you? What motives could they have other than to stifle your visions? And why is it that you have these visions? They are unrelated to your arcana.”

“I’ve thought about that more than you know. I’ll do my best to get some control over it. I’m going to fight, Lord Raiden.” His belief in you had given you strength. You’d been teetering on having faith in yourself for so long that it was nice to feel determined. You had needed that push. Even though you felt like absolute garbage after having your vision and sharing it with Raiden only moments after, you still felt better than you’d felt in a long time.

“Good.” He turned to face you again. “Thank you, Y/N. You saved many lives today and I am grateful. Get some rest.” He bowed to you and then left the room. Chen returned through the same doorway only seconds later in a huff. She seemed overwhelmed and you couldn’t blame her.

“What did he say to you? I tried to listen in but I think he knew I was listening. I couldn’t hear a single word!” She pouted in frustration, as if she had failed at being a gossip.

“Good. It wasn’t your business, Chen.” You teased but then rested your head on Chen’s shoulder with a sigh. Chen slipped her arm around you in a hug.

“You doing okay, sweet pea?”

“I don’t like that.” You laughed, sitting upright, and holding your sore shoulder. “I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about me.”

“When you stop collapsing all over the temple then I’ll stop worrying.” Chen scolded. “I can’t keep reassuring you when you keep doing things to worry me.”

“I know, I really do. I’m working on it. I’m sorry to have worried you.”

“Don’t be sorry. I just want you to be okay.” Chen furrowed her brow. You felt lucky to have her. “Why don’t I help you back to your room so that you can get some rest?”

“That’s probably for the best.” You tried to roll your shoulder but your body wasn’t having it. “Wait, you were up in arms about something earlier. Weren’t you? Or was I imagining you being mean to me?”

“For another day, Y/N. Right now I want you to rest.”

“Are you worried about stressing me out because of the heart thing?”

“I absolutely am.” Chen giggled and then helped you to your feet. Your legs were wobbly but once you were on them, you were fine. Chen insisted upon helping you back to your room regardless. You didn’t want to sit and listen to the storm for the rest of the afternoon. Earlier you would have been happy to but after talking to Raiden, you were motivated.

For the first time in your life your visions had been more than a burden that deteriorated your health and made people call you names. You’d seen the potential destruction of parts of the temple and it had saved lives. Raiden had been the one to save those lives but without you he never would have known it was coming.

You didn’t want credit for it but it did feel good to have done something other than destroy and maim.

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here4theheartbreak · 2 years

Text

All I Want for Christmas Ch.8 (Final) - A Christmas Miracle(ksj+pjm)

AO3 Link Here!

Relationships: Jimin x Seokjin Genre: angst, fluff, smut Rating: Explicit Chapter Word Count: ~3.8k

All Fic Tags: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Holidays, Small Towns, Homophobia, Angst with a Happy Endings, Past Relationships, Bullying, Attempted Infidelity, Homophobic Slurs, Bad Parenting, Discussion of Divorce, Rough, Face-Fucking, Dirty Talk, Spanking, Bottom!Jin, Top!Jimin, Happy Ending

Summary: Seokjin returns to his small hometown after a decade, hoping for a Hallmark holiday romance. He learns he didn’t have to go so far from home for it.

A/N: Sorry for the lack of a header image on these chapters; Tumblr has decided to rename itself Karen and get a shitty dye job - it will only let the post appear in tags if I don’t have an image.

A/N 2: This fic is also written for @thebtswritersclub December Project - it was an ornament style project in which a particular word needed to be used in both the title and the fic itself; my word was “Christmas”.

Jin woke early on Christmas morning, laughing a little to himself when he realized it was snowing lightly. How cliché – a Christmas dusting in a tiny little town. Hallmark movie material indeed. He headed into the kitchen, pecking his mother’s cheek and nodding to his father.

“When do we head in to start?” He asked, leaning on the counter as he sipped the coffee Jihae offered.

“Probably about an hour. Honestly, you don’t really need to come until later. A lot of what I’ll be doing is just running around and picking up finished things from others. I won’t need help until we start really setting up the area in the park.”

Every year the town did a Christmas tree lighting in the park. Prior to the lighting, there was always a large tent set up, filled with goodies and gifts, treats, and other things from the town, a community gift exchange, as it were.

“Well, then give me a list of folks to gather stuff from,” Jin suggested. “You know the ones that won’t kick me out on sight, and it’ll still shorten your running around.”

She sighed, brows furrowed. “You were never so helpful as a child.”

Jin grinned. “Took me a few years. I’ve gotta make up for giving you all those grey hairs.”

She gasped, swatting Jin in the belly as he laughed.

In the end, Jin did win, earning a list of shops and addresses that he was supposed to go gather items from. With only one car they decided to split the lists by blocks, so each of them could finish all the gathering in a certain block area before moving on, to make it less difficult to carry things.

The air was cold enough that Jin could see his breath, but not biting. The snow had stopped for the moment, but the clouds looked ready to open for another dusting at any moment. Jin moved steadily through the list, taking a few moments to chat politely with those that wanted to, but keeping a good pace. He knew from past experience that the tent always took a while to set up, even after gathering all the items.

First block, second, third – the two knocked them out easily. The car was getting full, but Jin figured they could manage the last few without too much difficulty. He was rounding the corner to head to the craft store when he heard his name being called.

Jin stopped, turning to search for the voice.

“Hey, Kim Seokjin!”

Much to Jin’s surprise, Eunyoung was hurrying across the street. His chest clenched at the sight of her, remembering how they’d left things. He tucked away the list and smiled as she approached, trying to remain neutral.

“Eunyoung. How’ve you been?”

She nodded and smiled, but it faded quickly into a frown and she shook her head. “Not great.”

Jin’s neutral smile drooped. “I’m sorry… Jaeho…”

She nodded.

“Look, Eunyoung, I know you want me to stay away, but I just wanted to apologize. I didn’t—”

Eunyoung grimaced and went forward. She slammed into Jin hard, hugging him tightly and silencing him mid-sentence.

“I—” He hugged back after a moment, confused, but happy that she opted for a hug instead of a slap, at the very least.

She stepped back after a moment. “I was a bitch.”

“What?”

“When you told me about Jaeho. I lashed out and it wasn’t fair to you. I was being a bitch because I was hurt.”

“No… Eunyoung, you had every right.”

“No, I didn’t. My choices were my own. Blaming you for them… That isn’t right. You were always there for me. And I was upset when you left, I felt abandoned. But honestly… Thinking on it, even if you had offered to take me, I wouldn’t have said yes. It would’ve made no difference. I was cruel to take out my anger on you.”

Jin smiled weakly. He reached up, stroking her cheek. “Apology accepted. But really, I get it. I should have reached out more, again, tried harder. I’m sorry we lost touch, and I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I wish I could’ve been. Even if you don’t blame me, I know my actions did influence this all.”

“Maybe.” She shrugged. “But it doesn’t really matter. You kept yourself safe. You did what you had to. Hating you over that is as cruel as any of the times Jaeho beat on you.”

Jin sighed. “What are you going to do? About him?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I confronted him. About the situation. About what he did. He tried to start drama at the factory over it.”

Jin chuckled. “I know, my dad came home and went after me for it.”

“I’m sorry,” she grimaced. “I shouldn’t have said anything…”

“No. God, no. Don’t ever apologize for that. Eunyoung, you have a right to speak up, you have a voice. Never stay silent when someone’s hurting you.”

“I want to leave him,” she admitted. “He’s not good to the kids and he’s barely tolerable for me. Lately I’ve been finding every excuse I can to stay out on Mr. Oh’s farm with my father… I told him about what Jaeho did. Of course he didn’t believe me.” She rolled her eyes. “Assumed you started it.”

Jin snorted. “Not surprised.”

“Me neither.” She sighed heavily. “But if I leave…” She drifted off.

“What about going back to school?” Jin offered. “You always loved math, what about an accounting degree, or something that you can put to use right away in a lot of jobs?”

“I have no money saved. And if I do leave him…” She shrugged. “I don’t know that I’d win much besides my clothes and my kids.”

“The house is yours, isn’t it?”

“Sure, but it’s my father’s, technically. And he’s not going to side with me.”

“There’s scholarships, loans that you can take out. It’s what I did.”

“I’m a bit old, aren’t I?”

“Not even close, I have a friend six years older than us who’s just starting school.”

“The kids?”

“There’s plenty of great programs in the city,” Jin said. “Online school for you, after school programs for the kids. I’m not telling you to divorce him, or to move to the city, but I’m just throwing suggestions.”

Eunyoung smiled softly, shaking her head. “I hate it.”

“Hate what?”

“This. Us. If things had been different… If we’d been… Compatible. I could’ve ended up with a sweet guy like you… Instead I settled for Jae.”

“Dating or not, Eunyoung…” Jin took her hands. “I’m not gonna run off again.”

“Oh, sure, you’re gonna leave your job and come here to live?”

Jin chuckled. “No, I’m going home in a few days. But what I mean… Is coming here was good for me. I fixed a lot that I’d left bad, and I learned some new things. I don’t see myself staying away too long.”

“Yeah? Only eight years instead of ten?”

Jin chuckled. “I’m planning on coming back this summer actually. A short visit. To pick up Jinki and Daeun’s kid.”

“Why?” She asked, her brows furrowing.

Jin shrugged. “Kid loves dance. My company does a camp for kids, it’s a month in the summer, sort of a music camp. I’m gonna sponsor their kiddo this year. So I have to come up and get them, and drop them off after. And who knows, maybe I’ll come up more often.”

Eunyoung chuckled. “You having a preteen for a whole month?”

“Why is everyone shocked by that?” Jin asked, exasperated. She laughed this time, shaking her head.

“I think it sounds cute. It’ll be fun.”

“I hope so. But what I’m saying is… I’ll be here more often. And when I’m not here… You have my number. If you need someone to talk to, I’m a call or a text away. If you need a place to crash in the city, I am more than happy to help. My apartment is small and if you choose to come while their kiddo’s there I can’t guarantee you’ll have much room, but,” he chuckled, “my door’s always open. And if you do decide to leave Jaeho… I can help you find a good lawyer, get what you deserve. I can work to help you get set up elsewhere too. Another town, the city… We can figure it out.”

Eunyoung’s expression softened as Jin spoke. She nodded, a small smile curving her mouth. “Even after I was so mean… You’d do all that?”

“I don’t think you were mean,” Jin said. “You were hurting. There was a wound that was ten years old that I ripped open this month, and then I dropped a bomb on your lap. You were upset, and you were hurt, and you reacted. It hurt, but… I’m not mad over it, and I understand it. And even if you were being mean… I love you, Eunyoung. I always have. Maybe not in the way that everyone wished, but… I care deeply for you. I want you happy and safe.”

She nodded, her chin wrinkling a little. Jin could see her eyes glazing a bit and knew she was trying not to cry.

He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Don’t cry, it’s Christmas,” he said softly.

“Careful, someone’s gonna assume I’m having an affair with the city boy,” she teased.

“Oh yes, as if my inability to get an erection for a girl isn’t already printed in the town archives,” Jin joked, grinning when she laughed.

“What are you doing now?” Jin asked.

“I was looking for you. I went to your house but your Dad said you were in town helping your Mom with the event.”

“Yeah, gotta get the rest of the stuff. Wanna join me for a bit?”

Eunyoung chewed her lip, glancing around. “Can’t hurt,” she said. “My kids are with their grandpa until the event, then we’ll all come.”

“Where’s Jae?” Jin asked carefully. They began walking toward the craft shop.

“At home, I’d guess.” She chuckled. “I haven’t seen him for a few days… And I don’t particularly want to.”

“Probably for the best,” Jin admitted. He knocked on the door of the shop and waited, waving at the owner when she peeked out of the window.

The two worked together to get the last of Jin’s list done. As they placed the final box in the car, Eunyoung sighed. “I should go back, hang out with my kiddos and Dad for a while.”

“I’ll see you tonight,” Jin said.

“Yeah. Call me before you leave, okay? I wanna say bye.”

Jin nodded. He hugged Eunyoung tightly. “Thank you for finding me. For talking to me.” He said softly.

“I couldn’t leave things like that. It wasn’t fair.”

“Keep me posted too. On what you decide with Jae. No matter what, I’ll do what I can to help.”

“I appreciate that.” She leaned up, pecking Jin on the cheek. “Merry Christmas, Jin.”

“Same to you, Eunyoung.”

He watched her walk away before heading down the street to find his mother and help her.

Jin worked the rest of the afternoon helping his mother set up the tent. There were a few other townsfolk that popped in to help, but the mother and son duo managed most of it, finishing just in time for folks to start showing up. The sun began to set without Jin noticing; he was too busy helping folks as he could and organizing the tent as the groups came and went. Though the town was small, this event was the largest of the winter, and near everyone came to it, so it felt like a lot.

Jinki’s family came by toward evening, and Jin earned another hug from Jia. She held out her arms. “Like it?” She asked, showing off her coat. It was a light pink puffer jacket with a rich purple faux fur hood.

“It looks warm,” Jin said. “It suits you.” She beamed.

“Dad got it for me for Christmas.”

Jin met Jinki’s gaze and smirked. “I wonder if he had some help.”

“Dad’s secret,” Jinki joked.

Jia pulled at Jin until he leaned down a bit. “I told them last night,” she whispered. “About starting… Puberty. We’re moving my appointment up a little… I think we’ll start medicine in January.”

Jin grinned. “Excellent. I hope it goes smoothly.” He squeezed her shoulder. “Keep me updated.”

“I will.”

“Merry Christmas, kiddo.”

She grinned and headed off, waving to a boy across the park before rushing over to him. Daeun hugged Jin tightly. “In case we don’t see you before you go. Thank you, we’ll keep in touch.”

“Of course.” He kissed her cheek. He squeezed Jinki’s hand when he extended it.

“Thank you,” Jinki said. “I’m glad you’re back in our lives.”

“So am I,” Jin agreed honestly. He watched them walk off for a moment before his attention was taken by Mr. Ahn, who’d come by to ask a question.

The crowded thinned out to the point that Jin was able to combine the remaining items on to one table as the sun fully dropped. The moonlight glinting off the snow gave a soft glow to everything, and the streetlights cast even more. The residents were beginning to gather around the tree, soft Christmas music playing through some speakers that had been set up around it.

Jin circled around the table, scanning the darkened area for his parents.

“Hey city stranger.”

The voice hit like a bucket of ice water. Jin froze. He stared straight ahead, almost afraid to turn around. He could have been imagining it, he supposed… He’d been busy all day, hadn’t eaten much… But he could feel someone staring.

Jin turned around slowly. It was no hallucination. Jimin stood a few feet away. He was wearing an expensive looking peacoat and black jeans tucked into boots. His hair was covered with a warm winter hat, and his hands were tucked into his pockets. Cheeks ruddy with the cold, Jin could see his breath escaping in little puffs through his slightly parted lips.

Jin set his jaw, the pain of the week prior ripping his through his stomach once more.

Jimin smiled, but it faded when Jin didn’t react. “I fucked up,” Jimin said softly, just loud enough for Jin to hear.

Jin remained silent. He tucked his own hands into his coat pockets.

Jimin looked down. He sighed, his shoulders rising and falling. He looked back up at Jin. “I’m sorry I ran.”

Jin clenched his teeth. “Fine. Apology accepted.” He turned on his heel, heading toward the crowd. He heard crunching snow and Jimin’s hand wrapped around his arm, yanking him back. Jin wrenched his arm free and spun around, much closer to Jimin than he thought. “What do you want?” He hissed.

Jimin flinched, looking up at him. “I want to explain.”

“You already did. In your letter.”

“No. I—” Jimin sighed. “I thought I did. I thought I was doing the right thing. I was a coward. I was scared of hurting you, and I—”

“You weren’t scared of hurting me,” Jin hissed. “If you had been you would’ve told me to my face the problem, instead of leaving me a note and scurrying back to the city with your tail between your legs. You were protecting yourself.”

“Fine.” Jimin nodded. “That’s fair. And I thought I was. I’ve never done… Relationships. I’ve never been asked to. So when you did I—I froze. I figured I wasn’t capable of it. So I freaked and I ran.”

“Yeah, I noticed. Still doesn’t explain why you came back. You got what you wanted already.”

Jimin blinked, a startled pain crossing his features momentarily. “What I wanted? What do you think… What do you think I wanted, Jin?”

“You got the contracts. You got a piece of ass. Everything a young city professional needs to be happy.”

Jimin winced again, looking down. “Also a fair accusation. But it’s not true.” He sighed. “Please, let me talk… You can be mad, but… Please hear me out.”

Jin nodded, crossing his arms.

“I did go back to the city planning to try and forget about you. I thought it was what was right. What worked. You and I were in different places. You wanted long term and a calm happiness and I’m… Just so much. A big ball of chaos. I… I don’t do calm or stable, and I never have. I didn’t think it was for me. But this past week, I… Every day I spent most of the day thinking about you. But not just… You. About what you’d said. About how that could feel. I’d go to sleep imagining what it’d be like to wake up next to the same person every day. Come home and go on dates with just one person, telling stories and remembering important events and birthdays and…” He sighed softly. “I’ve never had that, and I didn’t think I wanted it. When I thought about it that night, it scared me. But as it kept… Sitting in my mind I started to long for it. And I started to long for you. I didn’t realize how… Fucking head over heels I am for you, or how fast it happened.”

Jimin sniffled. He pulled a hand from his pocket and wiped the corner of his eye, blinking quickly. “I knew I’d fucked up. About halfway through the week. I knew it, and I… I wanted to text or call. But I knew that I’d hurt you. So I tried to stay away. But it’s just… Eating me up inside and I needed to see you again. I needed to tell you I was wrong, and I’m sorry for what I did.”

Jimin met Jin’s gaze, his eyes wet. Jin felt his heart clench a little, his expression softening a bit. He was still upset, but Jimin was being genuine. That meant something, at least.

“I don’t expect you to agree to try dating me seriously again. I know I may have lost that gift and I wouldn’t blame you at all. But I… I’m hoping that I can earn your trust and forgiveness and that… Maybe we can at least be friends.”

Jin sighed. He didn’t know exactly how to answer. Jimin’s words tossed in his mind like a small tidal wave, warring with the pain of the letter and the hurt he’d felt over the week.

“They’re going to light the tree soon,” Jin said softly. “Come watch it with me.”

He set his hand on Jimin’s shoulder and guided him over toward the crowd. They stood at the back of it, close enough to see, but not close enough to be easily overheard.

Jin could feel Jimin staring at him as they stood side by side. He remained silent though, and for that Jin was grateful. He needed some time to process and to think. His heart was screaming one thing, his mind was screaming another. Two warring sides, and he wasn’t sure which one to follow.

Finally, he looked at Jimin. “You hurt me a lot. What you did.”

Jimin nodded.

“I wish you’d just talked to me. Let me know how you were feeling. I could have talked it through with you, and we could have decided to take it slower, or maybe to just be friends… If you’d talked, it would have saved both of us from this week’s heartache.”

Jimin nodded again, closing his eyes.

“I fell hard for you too, Jimin. Harder than I have for anyone in a very long time. When I let you have sex with me, it wasn’t a casual whim, I… I did feel something.”

“Do you still?” Jimin whispered, meeting his gaze.

“I—” Jin froze. Jimin’s shoulders sank.

“Or is it just pain now?” He whispered.

“There’s hurt,” Jin agreed. “But… I can’t say I don’t… It’d be a lie. I do still feel something for you. I wouldn’t be so hurt if I didn’t. I’m scared you’ll hurt me again.”

“I understand. I can say I won’t but… We both know it’s easy to say things and do something else.”

“It is.” Jin nodded. “And it’s easy to make mistakes. Sometimes big ones, some small… We all fuck up. It’s how we grow. You learned that a boring, stable life might not be so bad after all.”

Jimin smiled softly and nodded. “It sounds nice, actually,” he confessed, looking down.

“People grow and change… If this trip has taught me anything it’s that. So holding a grudge for a mistake that someone’s learned from is… Unfair, I think.”

Jimin looked over again. “Does that mean… You’ll give me another chance?”

Jin pursed his lips a moment. “We’ll take it slow. I don’t expect a marriage license and a shared apartment in the first week. Dates… Some nights together. Some days hanging out… Stability and… Dating with the intent of long term, if it works. That’s a good place to start.”

Jimin’s mouth curved upward into a tentative smile.

Suddenly, the park was lit with a rainbow of lights. Jin looked up, seeing the large tree decorated with baubles and strings of light, shining brightly. He smiled softly. “That’s so much more beautiful than I remember.” He whispered.

“It’s stunning,” Jimin agreed. “I’m glad I got to see it… This stuff doesn’t happen in the city.”

Jin looked at Jimin, reaching over and taking his hand. He twined their fingers together. Jimin’s face was lit up by the lights of the tree, and the chatter of the townsfolk was growing as they milled around it. It wouldn’t be long before they were noticed.

“A good place to start?” Jin said again, leaving it a question. Jimin nodded.

“I think that’s an excellent place to start.”

Jin smiled softly. “I’m sorry we fought,” he said.

“Me too. I’ll work harder to talk to you… I won’t run.”

“Please don’t,” Jin whispered. He touched Jimin’s cheek gently. “Just trust me, okay? We can get through things.”

Jimin smiled softly. “I trust you.”

Their lips met tentatively at first, but deepened naturally. Jin pulled Jimin a little closer, wrapping an arm around his middle as they kissed under the Christmas lights.

It wasn’t exactly the Hallmark romance that he’d gone to his hometown wishing for. There was no reformed school bully or magically handsome classmate. But there was a big city businessman, stuck in a small town for the holidays with lessons to be learned about love. No, it wasn’t a cliché trope. It was better. He won the heart of the handsome stranger… And learned that he already had everything else he needed, right at home.

#thebtswritersclub #networkbangtan #bangtanarmynet #jinmin #jimin x seokjin #seokjin x jimin #mywriting

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spencers-renaissance · 3 years

Text

A Chronicle of Loss

Summary: 5 people Spencer Reid lost and 1 person he gained. A look at the traumas Spencer faces over the series, and giving him the happy ending he deserves.

Tags: grief, loss, abandonment issues, insecurity, depression, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, getting together, ‘didn’t know they were dating’, protective derek, autistic spencer

TW: self-harm, drug addiction, grief

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 3.6k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

The Inescapable Unravelling (<)

1. William

Spencer’s only ten years old when he watches his father pack his bags in his parents’ bedroom, watches as he smiles sadly at the sorry sight of him and his mother begging him not to leave, only to ignore their pleas and walk out the door. He remembers the anxiety written on his mother’s face, the shame in her eyes at being left in such a cruel way, the uncertainty as to whether they’d cope without William like it’s branded onto his skin, an egregious mark he can’t ignore.

Just like that, he became the man of the house. He became the voice of reason, the sensible one, the person dealing with Diana’s episodes, all while balancing his school work in a desperate attempt to live a different life to the one he existed in as a child.

He knows it wasn’t solely Diana, or Riley Jenkins, or any average marital issue that caused him to leave, he knows it was partly that William simply didn’t know how to handle an autistic child prodigy. He had a genius son who struggled with communication, had no friends, and refused to engage in any of the bonding activities he came up with. In the end, Spencer being different only compounded his desire to leave and, eventually, he stopped suppressing it and gave in.

He’d never blame his mother, but her confusion in her episodes often sent him flying down half a flight of steps or clutching a stinging cheek or banging his head on a door frame. She called him clumsy and he didn’t correct her. She called him ‘crash’ and he accepted the nickname. Without William there, he was completely and utterly alone, left to deal with the grief of losing a father and a schizophrenic mother who struggled to look after herself, let alone him.

He still thinks about it all these years later. He thinks about what his father said to Diana when he left: “you refuse to take care of yourself.” He reflects on the fact that he was well aware Diana wouldn’t be able to take care of him, that he would be left to fend for himself, that a 10 year old can’t provide adequate mental health support no matter how hard he tries, and he still left. He thinks about what that meant, how little his father actually cared for him.

He still thinks about it, and he still cries. His first encounter with grief, and he was only 10 years old.

2. Innocence

Spencer had joined the BAU at 22: three PhDs under his belt and a lifetime of expectation on his shoulders, but somehow he’d managed to remain the most innocent member of the team throughout the first few years of his job. Until Tobias Hankel had taken it and completely obliterated any shreds of naivete he had left.

Of course, he knew evil. He’d even experienced it first-hand, he’d been viciously bullied growing up and he’d encountered his fair share of violent, deranged serial killers, but Tobias -- or, more accurately, Charles and Raphael -- introduced him to evil on a completely new scale. The pain and fear that had tormented him in that cabin lived in a secluded, festering part of his psyche, reproducing at a terrifying rate in his memory, never resting, never quieting, unless dilaudid was streaming through his veins.

His innocence was gone; there was only darkness, loneliness, corruption, and he was grieving for something he’d never get back. His life was now separated into two distinctly different eras, marked only by his kidnapping, by the cruel torture he’d been subjected to.

Along with his innocence, he’d lost his relationships, he’d lost the family he’d found and loved so dearly. Nobody tried to help him escape the clutches of his PTSD or addiction, he felt like he was drowning right in front of his friends while they talked and laughed among themselves, muffling his desperate cries for help, and the frustration and abandonment joined the pain and fear in their festering corner of his mind.

He eventually gets clean, he eventually recovers. But he’s never the same. He’s forever tainted by the actions of one man -- a man he struggled to blame -- and he can’t help but mourn the life he had before Tobias, the optimistic, brightly coloured world-view he used to hold before it was ripped up, stamped on, and burned to ashes right before his eyes.

3. Gideon

Gideon leaves. Gideon leaves and the blow is almost as crushing as it was when he was ten. His mentor, his father figure, his friend abandons him with no warning, no goodbye. It hurts that he didn’t think Spencer worthy of anything more than a useless fucking letter that he left for him in a cabin because he knew that Spencer loved him enough to drive out there and find it; he knew that Gideon was much more special to Spencer than he ever was to him.

This pain feels almost worse because he’s surrounded by people feeling the same way, if to a less extreme extent. He finds himself comparing himself to Hotch, Derek, the whole team: it makes him feel as though he’s overreacting when even Penelope, arguably the most emotive member of the BAU, seems back on her feet within a few days and Spencer still feels as though he’s been hollowed out and all his insides replaced with the smouldering ashes of grief filling him up, weighing heavy in his stomach, climbing up his throat and choking him.

He drags his feet, he doesn’t sleep, he drinks coffee, he runs on auto-pilot. Others notice, of course they do, but there’s nothing any of them can say to make it better, not even Hotch when he’s pulled into his office and sternly told that he needs to open up. Spencer just looks at him with empty, exhausted eyes and shrugs. Weeks ago, he would’ve cried but there aren’t anymore tears to cry, he’s reached a truce with himself. He isn’t happy but he isn’t crushingly depressed anymore: he feels nothing, an abyss of grey matter circling around inside him as he struggles to perform basic functions.

“It’ll get better, kid,” Derek says seriously one day when he sits down at his desk, dullness settled deep in his eyes and numbness deep in his veins. It doesn’t feel like it.

Rossi joins the team and he’s nothing but cold towards Spencer and the rejection only adds insult to injury, and nobody seems to care. His stomach hurts all the time and he’s losing weight again, he knows, but he can’t seem to put any effort into anything at all, least of all trying to be happy, trying to look after himself.

He’s lost his protector and he’s replaced by another person who sees him as an intentional but irritating robot to be used and discarded, not thought of again until another geographical profile is required, or an obscure fact would help the investigation. The agony of existence for almost a year after Gideon’s disappearance feels almost too much to bear, even if Rossi does warm up to him, even if he does eventually begin to heal and forgive. It’s the first time grief almost kills him, and he isn’t even mourning the dead.

4. Emily

Emily’s death tears him apart. For the first time since the year after Hankel, he considers many things. He buys dilaudid and fiddles with the bottle every evening, torn between the sweet relief he knows would be guaranteed the second it’s flooding his bloodstream and the torment of knowing it was Emily who helped him get clean the first time, how disappointed she’d be if she knew he was throwing away all those hours she put in, disregarding the belief she had in him.

He holds a razor over the top of his thighs and slashes as deep as he can bear, daydreams about burying the blade deep enough to slice open his femoral artery and give up, embrace the darkness that’s been living inside him for years anyway. But he can’t stand the grief it would bring JJ, losing another sibling to suicide, even if he isn’t blood related. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone but himself, but it’s so cripplingly tempting and the frustration at not being able to give in to any of his darker fantasies has him tearing his heart out.

Instead he cries, sobs, weeps, over the death of his best friend, shouts in anger at the unfairness of Emily’s life being taken by a dirty criminal while he gets to live as she’s six feet under, dark and cold in the ground. Images of her beautiful face he loved so much rotting away, turning into something grotesque and mangled roam around in his brain and he berates himself relentlessly for not appreciating her wide grin and teasing eyes more, hates himself for not appreciating every single moment with her that he could.

And when she miraculously rises from the dead, he can’t even appreciate it because he feels as though he’s lost another friend. JJ, the one person he tried every day to live for, pictured in his mind every time he considered ending everything, had deceived him, had held him while he cried, held a cool washcloth to his forehead after he threw up from the force of his crying and the extremity of his grief, had watched him writhe in agony, all while having the power to stop it and doing nothing.

The betrayal dizzies him: he doesn’t know who he can trust and the shock of Emily’s return leaves him reeling. He’s cold to the people he loves, and he can’t rejoice in Emily’s return, can’t sit down with her and chat like they used to, or hug her again, or joke with her, or prank Derek together. Again, he’s drowning and this time everyone’s focus is on him but he’s refusing their hands reaching out to help, stubbornly accepting his fate, too scared to take an outstretched arm in case it lets him go again. Surely the cold darkness of the cruel waters is kinder than another rejection or deception?

Finally, finally, he decides to trust one hand and he’s pulled above the waters again, not quite out of the ocean but at least he can breathe. Eventually, he finds the strength to walk to shore and he’s wrapped up in Emily’s strong arms, burying his face in her hair and swearing he’ll never let go again.

5. Alex

He never, not for a moment, blames Alex for her decision to let go. If anything he admires her for it, he’s proud she made the right decision for her and her family, and at least he saw this one coming. He’s lost enough people by this point that the loss doesn’t ache and burn and fester in the way it used to, and they stay in contact; they have a bi-weekly FaceTime call and she texts him memes that he doesn’t understand and book recommendations regularly.

But that’s not to say that losing his maternal figure on the team, the woman who he’d connected with the fastest out of any BAU member, who had understood him in a way no-one else could, who loved and cared for him like a son, doesn’t stab him in the gut.

He’d take a bullet for absolutely everyone on the team, but he hadn’t taken a bullet for Alex out of some misguided loyalty to a coworker or because she was a member of the BAU, he’d taken a bullet for her because she was the best person he knew, and - plain and simple - some inner, more primal instinct within him wanted to save her life. And she’d stayed with him at the hospital, a little due to her guilt, a little due to her seeing Ethan in him, but mostly because she loved him.

And he loved her. So seeing her walk down those stairs and knowing she wouldn’t walk into the bullpen the next morning - no matter how much he knew that this was the right thing for her to do - left him feeling hollow again, a little broken, a lot sore. He missed her deeply, both because she was an amazing asset to the team, but also because she’s a beautiful person who brought sunshine to his gloomy world. She had an indescribable talent for making him happy, and he felt her absence in his every-day life bitterly.

Although she’s still around, she still finds ways to brighten his day, still has some creepy telepathic ability to know when he’s down and exactly how to make him feel better, it’s another loss to add to the many he’s somehow managed to have collected over the years. And he can’t seem to tell the grief in his heart any different.

At least this time it can be temporarily alleviated by a text message. It’s more than he could have asked for, really.

The Gradual Intertwining (>)

+1 Derek

He falls in love with Derek like the kind of slow and steady drizzle that’s almost indistinguishable from heavy mist; so easily confused for the ordinary, familiar platonic feelings he’s harboured for years. It’s because of this that he doesn’t put up an umbrella, he continues walking as he’s gradually soaked in deep, entrenched yearning, until one day, he finally realises it’s raining.

It’s on the morning of Rossi’s 60th birthday party that it finally clicks and, suddenly, it’s obvious. He let Derek carry him to bed last night after he fell asleep watching a movie, for God’s sake: he’d even woken up on the way but faked it just so he wouldn’t put him down. He’s known for years that a 187 IQ doesn’t mean his emotional intelligence is excellent, too, but this feels ridiculous even for him. He’s practically been in a relationship for years and he had no idea. This must be why he always got that strange feeling in his stomach when Derek talked about literally anybody else.

This is not an ideal realisation to come to when Derek is currently cuddled around him, about to wake up any minute. Spencer tries very hard not to think about the fact that he won’t blink an eye at their entwined limbs and what that means, but he’s not exactly in control of his thoughts right now.

He feels like he sleepwalks through the morning, trying to pay attention to what Derek talks to him about as he cooks him breakfast, but his mind has sort of short-circuited, not knowing how to adapt to this new information. His brain is not equipped to process being in love, and zoning out is as good a coping mechanism as any for now. It’s not until they head back to the bedroom to get dressed and ready for the day that he snaps out of it.

“Hey, pretty boy,” Derek says loudly, clicking his fingers in front of Spencer’s face to get his attention.

“Hm?” Spencer hums, feeling the world fade back into focus despite the haze of confusion still dizzying him somewhat.

“Alright, you’ve been spacy with me all morning,” Derek says, shifting his weight slightly as he levels Spencer with an inquisitive gaze. He can’t help but feel a cool kind of dread pour down his spine at the idea of that look figuring him out. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, sorry,” Spencer says, forcing himself to snap back into action as he attempts to compartmentalise. “Just… didn’t sleep well, I guess.”

Derek looks doubtful but takes him at his word. “Okay,” he acquiesces. “Better get dressed, though. We’ve got a lot to get through today.”

“We do?” Spencer asks, ignoring the fact that he’s still stood in his ratty, oversized shirt and underwear in front of the man he’s deeply in love with, maybe for the sake of his sanity, maybe because he finds it hard to be embarrassed in front of Derek Morgan, not after all these years.

“Yeah,” Derek says, like it’s obvious, “we gotta run to the grocery store and pick up a present for Rossi - probably some food for this barebones apartment of yours, too - pick up my clothes from the dry cleaners, and swing round Penelope’s to give her the blender I borrowed back. And I know for a fact you have some work to do on your latest paper, as well.”

Spencer, with his new perspective on the situation, considers the fact that Derek has included him in errands that are pretty exclusive to his own life. He also considers the fact that he never would have stopped to think this odd if he didn’t have the knowledge he has now. Unfortunately, simply considering does not shed much light on the situation.

Because of this, Spencer does what he’s always done. He nods and gets ready for his day of driving around with Derek doing very mundane chores and wonders why he feels so excited.

(While they’re out and about, it strikes Spencer why the realisation that he’s in love with Derek feels so paralysing: almost everyone he’s ever loved has left. He’s 34 and he’s never had a loving, committed relationship, and that’s for a reason: there’s only so much grief one heart can take. How could he ever give himself over to someone, hand them the key to his heart, open the door into his life, knowing that they could leave? Forever simply doesn’t exist, not for Spencer anyway. And truly, he doesn’t think he’d survive the loss of Derek, he can’t think of anything in the world that would be more painful.)

Despite the emotional exertion of the day, Rossi’s party is actually fairly enjoyable, probably aided by the glass of wine Spencer had accepted immediately upon entering the garden, he bloody well deserved it after the day he’s had. He gets chatting with JJ and Hotch and he barely even notices the absence of Derek by his side, having been roped into a conversation with Rossi and one of his famous poker friends that Spencer wouldn’t be able to place with a gun to his head.

It’s not long before they reconvene though, programmed with some kind of homing instinct that always leads them back to one another, and Derek’s leaning a bit too close. Spencer finds it a little hard to breathe with his body pressed so close to his own, Derek’s warm, wine flavoured breath on his ear making his insides flip and setting butterflies free to roam his stomach.

They spend the rest of the party like that, pressed away together in a corner, tucked inside one another’s pockets, and Spencer knows that he’s responsible for at least half of the instigation: he’s pressing back against Derek’s side with just as much pressure, leaning in closer, laughing a little louder, not bothering to hide the adoration that must be plainly written across his face.

“Wanna come back to mine for a drink?” Derek asks as the night draws to a close, and how can Spencer refuse? They spend more nights together than apart at this point, and the last thing he wants is to feel lonely tonight, not after today.

“Please,” is all he says.

No-one says anything when they leave together, Derek’s hand loosely placed on his lower back.

Derek’s apartment is warm and tidy, the opposite of Spencer’s, but it feels just as much like home as his own when he steps over the threshold. He’s about to tell him just that, but as he turns around to face him, Derek’s looking at him in a way he’s never seen before and his breath catches.

“Spencer?”

“Yeah?”

Derek steps a little closer, crowding into his space even more. “Can I kiss you?” he murmurs.

Spencer doesn’t bother answering, instead closing the gap on his own and pressing his lips to Derek’s. His hands go to Derek’s side on instinct but as he kisses back, Spencer feels one hand tangling itself gently in his hair, and another cupping his jaw and he gives way, melting into the touch. The whole thing goes right to his stomach, feeling it bottom out as the intensity of the moment threatens to overwhelm him before a small sound escapes Derek’s lips and he’s reminded who’s kissing him, whose hands are on him, who’s making him feel these things. All of a sudden, it’s easier to let go.

Their lips mould together as they collapse into one another, the final piece of the gradual intertwining of their lives and bodies over the last twelve years. A fire lights under Spencer and he feels his world tilt on its axis, except unlike previous life-altering experiences, this time it feels like its tilting into place, as though he’s been off-kilter this whole time, finally returned to his natural state.

“You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of this,” Derek whispers as they pull away.

“Why didn’t you kiss me sooner, then?” Spencer asks.

“Today is the first day you knew you wanted it,” Derek replies, before he’s kissing him again.

(Later that night, when they’re tucked into Derek’s bed, Spencer lies with his head on his chest, comforted by the steady, reassuring heartbeat as Derek whispers promises of forever into his hair. Spencer knows that nobody can ever really promise anything, but for the first time in his life, he decides it doesn’t matter. They’ll have to part some day, in one way or another - maybe Spencer will be the one to go first this time - but he realises that he’d rather have known Derek like this, to have known how it feels to love and be loved back, only to have him leave, than to have him stay and never know it at all.)

@criminalmindsvibez @strippersenseii

#my writing #moreid #moreid fic #moreid writing #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #derek morgan #spencer reid #Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid #derek morgan/spencer reid #tw substances #tw drugs #tw sh #tw self harm #tw grief #tw depression

83 notes · View notes

notalwaysthevillian · 3 years

Text

My Whirlpool of a Life

Ships: Kaminari/OC

Word Count: ~2.k

I will not be doing a tag list for this fic.

Masterlist

Chapter 3: First Day of Class

My eyes fluttered open the next morning, meeting an unfamiliar ceiling. It took a minute before I remembered that I was in my dorm.

At UA!

My chest felt bubbly as I got up and started getting ready for the day. The shower was nice, the perfect amount of water pressure alleviating the nerves I was feeling.

Once I was all dressed, I twirled in the mirror. A lot of my shirts were babydoll tops in different styles, but all of them were quite flowy. I knew that would be a problem for combat, should I be caught in civilian clothes, so they were all long enough to tuck into my dark skinny jeans.

Feeling ready, I slid on my black and blue sneakers before heading down to the common area for breakfast.

A few of the others were down there already. Iida seemed as though he’d already finished eating, and was packing up his bag. Todoroki was sitting at the table, plate in front of him. Midoriya was chatting with Iida as he ate; something about a Reciproburst.

Tsu seemed much better, munching on her breakfast at the opposite end of the table. I grabbed a bowl of cereal and sat down with her.

“Uraraka said you weren’t feeling so good yesterday. I hope you’re doing better now?” I gave her a smile. “If you need any medication for anything I probably have it.”

“No, I’m all better now. But thank you!”

“Okay! Just let me know if you ever do. Us girls have to stick together.”

Tsu nodded and I finally saw a big smile. “We do. There’s way less of us than boys in the class.”

“Oh, Nami! I’ve been meaning to ask you about your quirk.” Midoriya sat down next to me. He glanced between the two of us. “Oh, sorry, if I’m interrupting I can ask later!”

“I think we’re good?”

“Yes, we’re good. I’m gonna go find Ochaco.”

Tsu literally hopped off down the hall. Midoriya laughed a little at the expression on my face. “You’ll get used to some of the stranger things we do.”

“Yeah, it’ll take a bit of getting used to for sure.”

“So your quirk! How does it work?”

I went into the same explanation I’d given the girls. Midoriya was frantically writing, so I slowed down a little so he could get it all.

“Thank you! I’m sure the more I see the more I’ll understand.” He flipped his notebook shut. “I have notes on basically everyone in the class, and after training I write down anything new that I noticed.”

“Really? That’s so smart, it helps you get a leg up on everyone else.”

He flushed red. “Uh-huh. Not everyone gets that, so when I start rambling about techniques and stuff they usually tune me out.”

“I’d love to look over your notes sometime. It could really help me catch up a little easier with the rest of the class.”

Midoriya’s face brightened. “Anytime! Just let me know.”

“Midoriya, are you flirting with my girlfriend?” An arm fell across my shoulders. I turned to see Kaminari smiling at me, still looking a little sleepy. “Morning, beautiful.”

“I wasn’t flirting!”

Midoriya’s face was bright red. I couldn’t help but giggle at how panicked he looked. “Deku, he’s just teasing.”

“Relax, Midoriya.”

The green-haired boy took off, leaving me and Kaminari sitting at the table. I could hear the rest of the class slowly filtering down for breakfast.

“Are you going to finish that?” Kaminari pointed to my plate, before stealing the rest of my bacon and popping it in his mouth.

“Hey!”

He grinned, giving me a peck on the cheek. “We’re dating now, we share.”

“Now that I know you’re a food stealer I’ll just make double in the mornings.” I stuck my tongue out at him.

“You two are so cute!” Hagakure said, her gloves floating into the kitchen.

Jirou followed, making a face at us. “You’ve been together for less than a day. It’s sickeningly sweet.”

Kaminari made a face back. “Just making up for all that time that we didn’t know each other.”

“Awww!!!”

The rest of the morning passed by in a blur, and before I knew it we were on the five minute walk over to the main school building.

“Nervous?” Kaminari asked.

“No.”

“You’re lying.” He squeezed my hand. “Your grip gets stronger the closer we get.”

I relaxed my hand, feeling myself blush. “Sorry. It’s just…new school and all. What if I’m not good enough for the hero course?”

“No way, you’ll do great!”

“Do you even know what my quirk is?”

Kaminari opened his mouth for a second, before closing it again. “No.”

“I can manipulate water. It’s not the coolest thing in the world, but it’s useful.”

Midoriya appeared next to me. “Are you kidding? I have tons of ideas of how you could utilize that in combat!”

Todoroki turned around. “If it’s anything like how my ice or fire works, I could give you some tips.”

I blinked, not used to the attention. “You guys are so nice, thank you. The Pussycats are nice too, but usually I’m left on my own to train because they get busy.”

“You train with the Pussycats?”

Midoriya stared at Kaminari for a second. “She’s related to the boy who lives with them.”

“OH, RIGHT!”

We entered the building, some of us laughing at Kaminari’s reaction. He winked at me, rubbing a thumb across the back of my hand. “You’ll do just fine here, I know you will.”

The bell rang and everyone sped to their seats. I noticed there was an open desk behind Momo. As soon as I sat down, the door opened and Mr. Aizawa walked in, looking as exhausted as ever.

“Alright. The main focus of the summer is going to be getting your provisional hero licenses. This will allow you to act as the pros do, but only in an emergency. Any other unauthorized use of your quirks could get it taken away, so don’t do anything to cause it to be removed.”

The class broke into murmurs, silenced by a mere look from Aizawa.

“To prepare yourselves, today you’ll be working on creating something new.”

The door opened, revealing Cementoss, Midnight, and Ectoplasm.

“You’ll be creating two new moves.”

“I don’t even have regular moves.” I mumbled, earning a pat on the head from Momo.

Mina, Sero, Kirishima, and Kaminari looked ecstatic. “A test is boring school stuff, but this is hero work!”

Ectoplasm stepped forward. “An ultimate move is something that will ensure you win against your opponent.”

“It’s something so unique to your person, and your quirk, that no one would be able to copy it.” Cementoss added. “You must lean into your strengths.”

Midnight flicked her hair over her shoulder, and I could swear I saw Mineta drooling. “Most of us pro heroes have an ultimate move. Those who don’t are fools. Now, hurry up and change into your costumes, and meet us in Gym Gamma.”

I raised my hand, speaking once Mr. Aizawa had nodded at me. “My costume isn’t here yet.”

“Just put on your gym clothes.”

The class moved, everyone else putting on their costumes while I threw on gym clothes. I was going to stick out like a sore thumb.

Mina must’ve seen the look on my face. “Don’t worry about it! I’m sure your costume will be here soon. You’ll have to show me your sketches, I wanna see how amazing you’ll look.”

“Thanks, Mina!”

We walked to Gym Gamma together, as most of the boys had raced on ahead. Deku was walking with Ochaco, the two of them talking about something I couldn’t hear.

“They’d be cute together.” I nodded over to the pair.

Mina looked over. “Oh, they so would! And I think she likes him.”

As we entered the gym, Midnight pulled me aside. I could hear Cementoss and Aizawa explaining why the gym was made.

“I know you’re pretty new to this, so we’re going to have you show us what you can do first. But not in front of everyone else, they’ll all be doing their own thing and working with Ectoplasm and Cementoss, okay dear?”

A breath of relief fell from my lips. “I thought I was going to have to move straight into an ultimate move.”

“Oh, you will.” Aizawa said as he walked up. The rest of the class had taken off to go work on their moves. “But we want to see how you handle yourself. The Pussycats said that you usually helped out with forest fires, but they’d been working on your combat abilities. You’ll be sparring me.”

“But if you’re trying to see what I can do, shouldn't I spar with someone else? Don’t you erase quirks?”

He sighed. “I won’t be using my quirk against you, just my own combat abilities.”

“That makes more SENSE!” I rolled out of the way as he whipped his scarf at me.

Guess we’re starting now.

Aizawa didn’t let up, coming after me again. I grabbed the water in the room, throwing it in front of me as a shield. As the scarf hit the water, I wrapped it around, using the momentum to leap over him. The water caught me as I landed, becoming an extension of my mind and body, just like the Pussycats taught me.

“Good, you can block. Now show me an attack.”

“I don’t want to hurt -”

The scarf came at me again, wrapping around my leg as I dodged too slowly. I forced water between the fabric and my leg, before expanding it so I could escape.

“You might have to hurt a villain!” Aizawa called out, continuing his own attacks. “If you hesitate, you’re dead.”

The image of my parents at the morgue filled my brain. My ears popped as I whipped a stream of water at him.

There was a loud CRACK, and he was thrown backwards. As he glanced up at me, I saw a welt across his cheek.

“Good.” He rubbed his face. “I have an idea of what you can do. Today’s not about combat, so get to work on your special moves. Midnight will help you.”

He walked toward the rest of the students, observing what they were doing.

“That was impressive.” Midnight put a hand on my shoulder. “He’s quick, it’s hard to land a hit on him.”

“Usually I use that move to help chop down dead trees.” I explained, moving the water around with my hands and demonstrating more of a blade than a whip. “I tweaked it a little so I wouldn’t cut him in half.”

“Heroes often have to adjust their power output to not kill the villains. That’s a sign of a good hero.” She gave me a smile. “Now, I’ve got a few ideas for special moves for you. Can you bounce off the water? Or launch yourself up in any way?”

“I can try.”

“Let’s work on that first.”

It took the rest of the class period for me to figure out just how much pressure to put under my feet to spring myself up, without sending me to the ceiling or not high enough.

“Good work today! Learning a new technique can be difficult but you’ve tried your hardest.”

The praise made me blush. “Thanks! I just hope I can nail this down quickly.”

“I have complete faith in you.”

Kaminari came running over as soon as the bell rang. “Your quirk is amazing, Dew Drop!”

“Dew Drop?”

“Oh, I know you didn’t want me to call you - well, you know. So I came up with a different pet name.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “If you don’t like it I can -”

“No, I love it!” I interlocked our fingers, pecking him on the cheek. “It’s cute.”

“You can just call me Babe if you want.”

The look in his eyes told me that he would be okay with that, but I could tell that he wanted a cutesy nickname too. Even if he wouldn’t say it out loud.

“Mmmm, I think I prefer Lightning Bug. As long as it’s okay with you.”

The smile on his face seemed to light up the room. “It’s perfect.”

#mha #my hero academia #kaminari x oc #kaminari/oc

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lvmosity · 4 years

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my only valentine | draco malfoy [2]

pairing: draco malfoy x slytherin!reader

genre: fluff bc it’s a valentines day special ooh la la

summary: you and draco have been enemies since the start of hogwarts despite being in the same houses, but everyone knows you two secretly like each other. valentines day has arrived and you hope to receive a love confession from one boy only; your arch-enemy nevertheless. however, a minor incident occurs caused by draco and hurts you deeply. will your valentines day be rescued?

word count: 3.7k

warnings: minor swearing ?? sorry i swear a lot

a/n: final part is here! received a lot of love on my first one and that made me really happy! thank u all eeek <3 couldn’t hesitate to finish this off because i didn’t want to make u wait a long time so here it is! enjoy :-) also idk if there are errors in here even tho i proofread multiple times, so let me know if u see any !!

tags: @aus-pi-cially @biinspiration @iwritetrashimagines @juliemoney45 @a-hoe-for-vanya @slytherclawmalfoy

read part one → here

After the incident, you stayed in your dorm for the rest of the day. Professor McGonagall excused you out of classes, each visiting the Professors that you had a class with today to report that you wouldn’t be attending due to you falling ‘ill’. You mentally thanked her for that and you reminded yourself to thank her properly the next morning since you were too upset and embarrassed to walk out.

You knew that at this very moment that everyone was talking about you, you were once again the main gossiping topic. When some students had asked your classmates who were present at the incident, they simply explained the situation and one by one the information had quickly spread like wildfire.

Many girls felt bad for you, some of the girls from your house even visited you during their frees and empathised with you. After stating that you were feeling alright, they started to bad-mouth Draco by calling him all sorts and making fun of him. You’d never thought you’d hear your own housemates mockingly make fun of Draco but it was a blessing to your ears. Although, you wished for their safety as you knew his father will hear about it and order expulsion upon them.

And by most girls, you mean everyone except a few girls such as Pansy Parkinson enjoyed you feeling dejected. You weren’t the only girl who liked him of course. Since Year One, Pansy has made sure to everyone that she likes loves Draco. You could visualise the look on her face when she heard about the situation, and she probably looked the happiest she’s ever been.

Pansy also made it clear that she hates you. At first, you both didn’t have a problem with each other since you were Slytherin housemates, however, you couldn’t hold back your slight annoyance with her once she showed attitude. But at the start of Year 4, she turned hostile towards you. Apparently, she sees you as a threat and you’d soon ruin her ‘plans’, whatever they were.

Your friends came by during dinner to give the gifts you left in class since you ran out without grabbing them. They each gave you a consoling hug, several uplifting words to cheer you up as well as desserts from the meal they were serving as a Valentines Day special. It did manage to bring your mood up which was a good thing as you were able to focus on something else.

However, the second you lay eyes on the gifts that laid on your bedside counter, you’d instantly be reminded about the incident turning your mood sour. You couldn’t help but tear up which escalates into a crying session. You’ve possibly had around five sessions since then and now it’s six because you just looked at it again.

It really hurt you. His words struck thorns in your heart, he really didn’t have feelings for you at all. You cursed at yourself for thinking he’d have a slight interest in you all this time but now you realised you were wrong; he has always hated you. He despised you. From the very start lasting to the very end.

What does this mean to you from now on? Obviously, it means your crush on Draco should be completely destroyed. No, it needs to be. You’d be a fool to continue liking Draco after that, he literally declared his hatred for you and he had an audience to hear it loud and clear. He’ll never see you anything more than an enemy. He only saw you as a despicable, loathsome, grotesque looking, ugly--

“Ugh, I’m such an idiot!” you cried out with despair and flipped the bed covers over your head.

You forced your eyes shut and tried to shut any thoughts of Draco but images of him kept coming back. It was hopeless. You were never going to get over him.

Time goes by and you watched the sky turn from grey to black indicating that it was night-time. It was time for everyone to head back to their dorms since classes had finished for the day. One by one you watch your roommates, as well as your friends, stumble into the room and hop into bed falling fast asleep minutes later.

You lie in bed, tossing back and forth multiple times unable to get in a comfortable position. It had been a while since everyone had fallen asleep, snores filled the room as well as the ticking of the clock. You concluded that you weren’t going to fall asleep any time soon as you weren’t tired despite feeling the heaviness on your eyelids.

Taking a quick glance at the clock, you saw that it was only beginning to hit 11PM. Sighing, you step out of bed, slipping your slippers on as you walk outside. You knew no one would be awake at this time judging by how late it was thus spending a bit of time sitting in front of the fireplace in the Slytherin Common Room would be a good way to fall asleep quicker and clear your thoughts.

You step into the Common Room and just as you thought; not one person was awake. The fireplace was still lit and burning strongly along with the violent crackling of the fire. The lamps had been switched off leaving the fireplace and the light from the windows to be the only source of light. It was awfully eerie without anyone else in the room but it didn’t bother you as much because you were used to it, it was located in the dungeons of course.

As you made your way downstairs, you were starting to feel the heat radiating from the fire inch by inch. You shuddered at the warmth wafting your face once you stood in front of the fireplace. Sitting yourself down on the carpet, you cross your legs and lifted your hands up to warm them up.

You give a long sigh, relaxing your shoulders and the muscles in your body. For a couple of minutes, you had stayed like this, welcoming the warmth that surrounded you and you felt at peace. You were able to clear your thoughts out to the point you felt like you had moved on from that horrific incident.

“Oh, you’re still up.”

You quickly look behind to see Draco leaning over the balcony, gazing at you. How long has he been standing there for? Why was he still wide awake at this time? More importantly, what the hell do you do now?

Your eyes widen out of shock, instantly turning back and stare at the fireplace and start to fidget with your hands. You could hear him walk down the steps, your heart is starting to beat fast. His footsteps are coming closer. Your mind was racing as you frantically look around. Should you try and run away so you wouldn’t have to face him? Do you stay sitting down and wait for him? Maybe If you thought of a good excuse, you can walk back to the dorm without any awkwardness. Or you can just run away right now and he wouldn’t even have the chance to say something--

Draco clears his throat as he calmly sits himself down next to you. Legs crossed, he also warms his hands up neither saying a word or glancing at you.

You didn’t want to peek at him but you could tell out of the corner of your eye that he doesn’t seem to have a scowl or an irritated look despite being next to you. Instead, he supports a blank face. It was difficult to guess how he’s feeling right now.

Focusing back on the fireplace, you both sit there in silence, both not having the confidence to speak a single word. It stays like that for a while, listening to the crackling of the fire, hearing his and your quiet breathing, your heartbeat gradually ringing loud in your ears. You were starting to feel uncomfortable with the awkward atmosphere. You weren’t sure if Draco was feeling the same, you were too nervous to check his face.

“Can’t sleep?”

Draco breaks the silence. Finally encouraging yourself to look at him, you wait for him to turn to you and wait for your reply but he doesn’t. His eyes still fixated on the fire in front. You sigh internally.

“Y-yeah...” Your words wavering at the end. You slowly uncross your legs before bending and pressing them against your chest. You cross your arms and place them on top of your knees, propping your chin on top afterwards.

Great. Draco now knows you’re basically shitting your pants right now. That made you even more nervous. He’s probably making fun of you right now in his head.

“Just wanted to clear my mind and it’s working out fairly good.” You try to laugh your nervousness off in hopes that Draco would ignore your slight tremor from before.

"Your brain must feel as good as new,” Draco said causing you to look at him again, “seeing that you’ve never used it in your whole life.”

You frown at him before rolling your eyes.

“You know, I’ve been trying to see things from your point of view but I can’t get my head that far up my arse.”

You snap back at Draco, waiting for him to give you his iconic nasty look and throw an insult back but to your surprise, he doesn’t. Draco sits there in silence again, he still hasn’t bothered trying to look at you. You were starting to debate whether he was only here to argue or have a normal chat for once or maybe even apologise.

But this was Draco Malfoy you were talking about. He would never in a million years apologise to someone unless they were his father or that he really meant it or if he knew he was in the wrong.

Maybe you should just go and leave him alone, you really weren’t in the mood to argue with him as well as be in the same room as him. Especially after what he said. This will possibly be the last time you exchange words with him, you figured it would be best to stray clear of Draco, ignoring any snide comments he makes and pretend he didn’t exist. It’ll be tough alright but you knew you had to do it.

You sigh once more and stand up, giving Draco one last look. “If you’re only here to tease me then It’s useless to even share the same air with you right now,” He’s still not turning to face you. You didn’t know why you continued standing there as if you’re expecting anything to happen. “so goodbye Malfoy. Nice knowing you by the way.”

You turn on your heels and swiftly walk away, each stepping closer to the stairs. You didn’t dare try to look back, it would only hold you back thus you kept your eyes in front.

“I’m sorry.”

You froze, standing in your spot motionless. Did he just apologise? There’s no way you heard that correctly, no, it’s your mind playing tricks on you convincing you to turn around and accompany him. Just keep walking, Draco didn’t say it.

“I’m sorry.” Apologising again.

You slowly turn around and see that Draco had finally faced you, his eyes bore into yours. Your mouth slightly gaped open as if to speak but no sound could be made. You felt weak under the stares of Draco, you could feel your legs starting to wobble.

“I, uh, didn’t mean what I said before... y’know... me calling you ugly,” Draco bites his bottom lips feeling slightly embarrassed now that he’s facing you. Bowing his head, he continues rambling on, “I didn’t mean to hurt you. It was a mistake, it came out so suddenly--”

“Thank you Draco.”

Draco’s head shoots up, his eyes wide open. He had heard his name come out of your mouth, and it was his first name instead of the usual ‘Malfoy’.

“What?”

“I said thank you Draco.”

A blush crept along his cheeks as he quickly turns his head to the side in an attempt to conceal it. However, he knew it failed as you give a quiet giggle. You found it amusing to see Draco react in a way after hearing his name being said, especially since it was from you.

“For what?”

“You finally apologised to me... and you actually meant it this time without being sarcastic.”

Draco smiles sheepishly, scratching the side of his head with his head still turned away. He couldn’t meet the eyes of yours, he felt too ashamed at the fact that he couldn’t get the blush on his face to fade anytime soon. He gives a short nod as if to acknowledge your thanks causing you to smile in return.

Once again, the silence returns as both of you stand in front of each other, you looking down at your feet fidgeting whilst Draco did the same. Your throat started to dry up as you were too nervous to swallow, the atmosphere became awfully awkward.

“I don’t think you’re ugly by the way,” Draco suddenly said, “you’re the opposite actually.”

Raising your eyebrows, you question him, “Like what? I’m somewhat decent is what you’re trying to say.”

Draco immediately shakes his head.

“Then what?” You were starting to become impatient.

“You’re just not ugly okay? I can’t explain it.”

“Oh so I’m like above ugly but below average looking, maybe those are the words you’re looking for--”

“For Merlin’s sake, you’re pretty goddamn it!”

You instantly shut up, looking at him directly with your mouth slightly gaped open. Draco gives out a long sigh, calming himself down. He had almost shouted it out loud to wake anyone up.

“You’re not ugly, you’re pretty,” Draco said with a much quieter, soft tone. “Really fucking pretty. You were never ugly in my eyes, from the moment I met you up until now, I still find you pretty.”

He steps closer to you, closing in the gap between the both of you before stopping to have only a few metres left. He was practically an arm's length away, close enough for him to hear your heart beating frantically, as well as the heat radiating from you. Draco noticed how you were blushing like mad, after all, this was the closest you guys have ever been.

“I like you Y/N.”

And in the blink of an eye, he steps in further and grabs your chin to lift it upwards before he kisses you. Impulsively, you kiss back as you close your eyes, your lips moving in sync with his. His lips were slightly chapped but it had softened in time as it felt incredibly plumpy against your very own.

His hands gently move to the side of your face, his thumb lightly brushing your cheek. You squirm under his touch but your lips were still laced together, you swore you felt Draco subtly bite your bottom lip indicating that he was enjoying this. And so did you.

After what seemed like forever, Draco pulls apart and drops his hand. Still blushing furiously, you delicately touch your lips. Did you guys really just kiss?

Draco steps back and chuckles, “Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”

“I like you too.” You randomly blurt out causing Draco to laugh again.

“I know.”

“You knew?”

“I’m not an idiot. You made it quite obvious with your stares and flirting that it wasn’t hard to notice Y/N.” He rolls his eyes.

“Ah...” You said, tucking a bit of your hair behind your ear. “Whoops.”

You open your mouth to speak again. “I feel sorry for the guy who gave me those Valentines gifts.” Draco listens to you curiously, “I can’t imagine the look on his face when he finds out his crush has been kissed by another guy.”

He stares at you in disbelief. “Are you daft?”

“What?” You said, confused.

“I sent you those.”

“As if. The Draco Malfoy sent me Valentines gifts?” You try to suppress your laughter since you found it amusing.

Draco shoots you an offended look, “Yeah well, it’s not like I wanted to in the first place. Mother insisted that I man up and woo a girl so I don’t live my life as an old man that’s on the verge of dying as a loner.”

“Whatever you say Malfoy.” Giggling at his poor excuse.

He tuts before he leans back on the couch, crossing his arms, he lifts his head to look at you. He tilts his head to the side and smirks causing you to raise your eyebrows.

“So, does this mean we’re a thing now?”

“No.”

“What? But I just made out with you.”

You turn red at his statement. “You don’t just automatically assume a couple gets together after kissing.” You explained.

“Then do I have to do something more other than a kiss?” He winks suggestively. You scrunch your face in disgust.

“No, you dimwit, you have to ask them out first in the traditional way.”

Draco lets out an ‘ahh’ and nods slowly. He uncrosses his arms and stands up, still leaning on the couch. “Then will you be my girlfriend?”

You let out a disappointed whine, “Seriously Malfoy, I can’t tell if you’re doing this to be funny or what--”

“No,” Draco stands up and walks closer to you, his hand lifts to grasps yours, taking you by surprise. “I’m serious. I’d like to be your boyfriend Y/N.”

He softly brushes his thumb up and down your fingers, waiting patiently for your answer. He locks eyes with you making your heart flutter. Your mouth kept opening and closing, unable to get a word out. You didn’t know how to respond to his bold question.

It had only been an hour since you had concluded it was best to discard your crush on Draco and move on with your life. It had only been a few hours since you and several other Slytherin girls were having the time of your lives, badmouthing him. It had been hours since Draco had completely crushed your heart with his hurtful comments. These were enough reasons for you to reject Draco on the spot.

But not enough for it to convince your heart otherwise. No, your heart was telling you to forgive Draco and accept him.

You finally pull out of your thoughts and look at him. Draco looks at you with anticipation and starts overthinking. He wishes that you would answer him anytime now otherwise, he’ll feel humiliated knowing he got rejected. But that quickly disappears when he sees you give a small smile.

“Okay.”

Draco’s mouth forms into a grin, his heart leaping with joy. Oh, how he looked so cute.

“But what about Pansy?”

“What about her?”

“You do know that she’s always had this massive crush on you, right?”

Draco shrugs. “So what?”

You look at him dumbfounded. “I thought you two had a thing for each other.”

“You’re joking?” You shake your head. Draco sighs, “I’ve never liked Pansy, she gets on my nerves.”

“She’s been going around saying she was your Valentines, even showed a box of chocolates with your name on it but everyone could recognise her scruffy handwriting anywhere.” You revealed making Draco snortle.

“Ha! She wishes she was. What a freak.”

You nod trying to believe his words but you still had doubts. Draco notices your troubled look and intertwines his fingers with yours. “Besides,” he starts off. You gaze at him as he gazes back with a smile. “you’re my only valentine.”

Thus with that, he plants a kiss on your cheek making you genuinely smile at him.

●●●

“Ah, looks like Y/L/N finally stopped being emo and joined us back in class.” Mocked Pansy once she stepped inside Potions Class.

Her eyes lie on the back of your head as she struts over to your desk. You lazily sit back on your chair as you watch Pansy sit on the edge of the table.

“Welcome back,” She said with a sarcastic smile. “had an amazing time with your Valentines date?”

You respond by looking at her with a sinister smile. “Oh, you bet. ”

Pansy gives you a weird look before the door slams open and all heads turn to see the source of the loud sound. Draco walks in, his two other goons following behind. Ignoring the eyes of his classmates, he starts making his way to his desk.

You immediately stand up and march over to Draco. Your classmates start to whisper and watch you, thinking you were going to confront Draco and punch him for being an asshole.

Draco stops in his tracks once he saw you were walking towards him, and before he knew it, you grab the sides of his face and kiss him.

Everyone in the room shouts out of shock. They couldn’t believe the scene happening in front of them. One of your classmates, Seamus, makes a catcall causing a few of the boys to laugh. Draco’s goons, on the other hand, looked bewildered seeing him fraternising with the enemy. He definitely had some explaining to do.

The girls looked either jealous or happy. Your friends looked at each other with excited smiles, whilst Hermione just rolled her eyes at the view but aggressively elbowed Ron in his sides after he pulled a disgusted look.

You pull away making Draco look at you confusingly, still taking in what had happened.

You shoot a cheeky smile at Pansy over your shoulder, “I had an amazing time.” Pansy angrily glares at you before pushing past you and storms out of the room.

“Everyone’s going to assume we’re a thing now after you kissed me.” He teased as you looked back at him.

“Well, weren’t we always?” You wink at him and turn around, walking back to your desk leaving Draco stunned.

Draco grins to himself, “Touché.”

Both of you knew you two were going to be in the centre of attention again, the main topic to gossip about except this was going to be something new to you both. However, instead of hearing the common ‘Draco and Y/N are fighting again’, it’d turn to ‘Draco and Y/N are having a love quarrel again.’ And that made you excited.

Maybe Valentines Day isn’t a bad event after all.

#draco #draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco x you #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagines #draco imagine #draco scenario #draco malfoy oneshot #draco malfoy scenario #harry potter #harry potter oneshot #slytherin

359 notes · View notes

ipaintwithwords · 3 years

Text

Christmas Short Story Exchange

Wolves Without Teeth

Fandoms: Life is Strange, Life is Strange 2 Characters: Sean Diaz, Lyla Park, Daniel Diaz, Chloe Price, David Madsen (mention), Brody Holloway (mention) Tags: Post-Redemption Ending, Post-Save Arcadia Bay Ending, light angst with happy ending, mentions of depression/antidepressants, reminiscing, ambiguous/open ending, POV heavy, pretty scenery and dogs and ghosts

And I run from wolves breathing heavily at my feet And I run from wolves tearing into me without teeth

♪♫♪♫♪♫

Millions of stars lit up the vast, deep indigo canvas of the night sky along the coast of Oregon. It was a quiet, peaceful night, the kind that was made for intimate strolls and heartwarming conversations and marveling at the beauty of the ocean, hand in hand, barefoot on the shore, accompanied by the light April breeze and the soft whispers of the waves. It was made for campfires and laughter, grilled fish and cold beer, and acoustic guitar covers of songs that people don’t listen to enough on Spotify, even though they really should - it was a night made for moments ephemeral and eternal at the same time, a series of overexposed polaroid images in the sand.

However, for the young man driving under the endless rows of majestic pine trees, the night was but a spectacular backdrop for his hours spent on the road. Slightly more memorable than the day before, and infinitely longer than any other day of the past week he’s spent driving, one hand on the wheel, the other one either stroking the gentle crosswind with a cigarette between his fingers or buried in the thick, brown fur of the adolescent wolfdog snoozing on the passenger’s seat, curled up like a content, well-fed little roll with her favorite blanket between her front paws.

That night, he was holding onto the wheel with both hands. Eyes fixated on the highway, his anxiety was skyrocketing in his chest, flooding the back of his mind with dark thoughts and his head with an unbearable migraine, building up slowly but steadily, creeping into his skull, even the empty - and otherwise numb - socket of his left eye. Not that he was a stranger to headaches, but unlike all his past encounters with nasty migraines, this time he had no idea what to blame: the cigarettes, the lack of sleep, all the synthetic food he shoved down his throat the past few days, his ridiculous deadline drawing near by the minute… Or perhaps the fact that for the first time in fifteen agonizingly long years, he was back on a road he never thought will see again.

The only difference was that this time, he was on his own. There was no comforting presence beside him, no hula dancer figurine on top of the dashboard, no excited chatter coming from a kid high on adrenaline on the backseat. It was just him and the shores of Oregon, his sad music and his snoring dog (who wasn’t exactly the chatty kind, which, honestly speaking, never truly bothered him; he adopted her for the very same reason) and this stubborn, intrusive, demanding migraine that seemed to have made a cozy little home for itself in his forehead like it was meant to live out the rest of its life under his skin. And somehow, it managed to grow even stronger when out of the blue, the music was interrupted by the steady, low buzzing of his phone.

All of a sudden, violent waves of frustration crashed down over him as he took a quick glance at the device’s screen. Tightening his grip on the wheel until his nails started digging irritated crescents into the faux leather, he grit his teeth while staring at his phone, its buzzing resonating in his temples as if someone was trying to drill into his brain. The buzzing lasted for a solid two minutes before the screen would finally turn dark again and the pulsating sensation in his temples quieted down a little - only giving him a few moments of calm and quiet, though, as his phone started ringing again the moment he was about to sigh in relief.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!”, he grunted loudly in anger, waking the peacefully sleeping wolfdog pup with either his hoarse voice or the annoyed dash of his hand as he reached out for his phone to pick up the incoming call and be over with it as fast as possible. He knew exactly what’s coming for him, and he was in the mood for anything but fighting with his best friend on the phone right now.

“What the fuck, man?!”, hissed a young woman on the other end of the call with a furious whisper-shout, as soon as he pushed the green button. “Are you being serious with me right now? Where the fuck are you, Sean?”, she hissed, and Sean heard a door slamming shut behind her, most likely the backyard door, to be precise, as she stormed out of the kitchen for a smoke.

“You knew I’ll be busy this weekend”, much to his surprise, he magically managed to keep his voice calm and his words collected when he answered after a few moments of hesitation. “I DMed you and I also texted the group chat yest-”

“Yeah, and I thought you’re just trying to back out of going to Walmart with us!”, his feeble attempt of coming up with explanations was met with an angry snap from the young woman. “And I actually can’t believe that we’re having this conversation? Like I can’t comprehend the fact that for whatever fucked up reason, you are actually ditching your own brother’s birthday weekend”, she scoffed, lighting up a cigarette with two impatient click-clacks of a cheap 7-Eleven lighter.

“I have a deadline, Lyla, and it seems like you’re the only person who can’t accept that”, answered Sean with a deep, resigned sigh, only trying to resist the sudden urge of smoking for a brief second before he rolled down the window and reached for his cigarette case. “I talked to Daniel about it, alright? He was the first person I called”, he murmured under his nose, shoving a crooked cigarette between his lips. “And to be honest, I still don’t understand why you guys insisted on throwing this huge ass party for him for an entire weekend... Y’all know he prefers his PS4 and pizza over twenty of us being all over him for three days, right?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it was me who’s about to ruin his birthday! Fuck, man, thanks, now I can see that it was me all along”, Lyla let out a burst of dry laughter, more threatening than the sharpest blades in the world. “You are unbelievable, Sean.”

“I’m doing everyone a favor by skipping, y’know”, said Sean, sticking his hand out the window, unleashing the tiny smoke-dragons of his cigarette into the night. “‘Cause let’s be real, we both know that it’s me who’d ruin his birthday” he added with a shrug, making Lyla snort in disbelief.

“I can’t think of a single reason why his favorite person in the world would do that, so please enlighten me with your wisdom, Sean-Wise”, suddenly, her tone softened, bringing a massive lump to Sean’s throat.

“The last thing he needs right now is his useless, depressed brother”, he answered quietly, unable to resist the suffocating grip of anxiety on his neck. “And thankfully, he understands that his useless, depressed brother needs to submit an unreasonable amount of work ‘til next Wednesday, so… Yeah. We’re both doing each other a favor, to be honest.”

“Sean, I… Useless? Why would y- What do you even… Hollup for a sec” sighed Lyla, slightly frustrated, as a small voice suddenly called for her. “Yes, baby, what’s up?”, she said, words and smile warmer than the morning sun, and Sean couldn’t help but smile too when he heard her switch to Korean the next moment, most likely reaching for her daughter Hannah, and gently pushing a strand of dark, silky hair behind her ear like she always did.

“Sorry for that, Miss Thing is getting cranky because she only ate five times today”, Lyla returned to the call after a good minute, and Sean could clearly see her roll her eyes as the door shut close behind Hannah. “So where were we…”

“You were about to give me a Ted Talk on self-love because I called myself useless”, said Sean with a faint smile, before carefully flicking the cigarette butt out the window. Lyla didn’t answer immediately, at least not with words - her silence, on the other hand, was heavy with worry, a calm before the storm Sean knew too well. After all, thirty-three years of friendship teaches a thing or two about another person, especially a friendship like theirs was.

“You know, I had a feeling this is gonna happen”, when Lyla finally broke the silence, she couldn’t conceal the sad, resigned bitterness in her voice. “At least tell me where you are, man…”

“I’m in Oregon… Driving along the coast, actually”, Sean answered, giving his dog an affectionate scratch behind the ear, and making her turn her all-knowing, golden eyes from the night view on him. “Don’t worry, I’m not alone. Chestnut’s here too.”

“Dude, she didn’t even bark when she heard my voice”, said Lyla, with a very obvious and even more dramatic pout on her face. “But wait, what the fuck are you doing there? In Oregon?”, she asked, and this time, it was her confused frown that Sean could see crystal clear as if Lyla was sitting right next to her.

For a brief moment, he truly wished she was.

“I’m chasing ghosts”, when he spoke eventually, it felt as if there was someone else talking with his mouth, unseen powers forcing the air out of his lungs and his tongue and teeth to form the words that echoed for a seemingly endless moment in the car and inside Sean’s head.

And before he could even blink, the echo sunk even deeper, into the darkest pits of his scarred, hurt, lonely soul, as he found himself staring at the unmistakable silhouette of Arcadia Bay in the distance after a slight turn in the road.

He spent the night at Otter Point, in his car, right next to the very same visitors plaque he broke down at, for the first time since fleeing Seattle on that nightmarish afternoon all those years ago, to a man he just met - a man who changed everything, although fifteen years later, Sean wasn’t sure anymore that it was for the better. He wasn’t sure whether he’d still be alive at all if it wasn’t for Brody and his golden heart that night, but he was certain of one thing: that compared to all the horrible things that happened to him, to them, death would’ve been but a merciful release.

Death didn’t come for them, however, at least not in its form that’s known to most people. Instead of taking them, it decided to befriend the Wolf Brothers and tag along on their journey, from the suburbs of Seattle to the iron gates of the Mexican border - and after that, the lifeless, ashen grey walls of a suffocatingly small prison cell in Washington. It was there that night too, in Sean’s car, a worn, cherry-red station wagon just like Brody’s, and inside his head, too, buried deep under the quiet, unsteady chaos of his thoughts. It was in every breath he took, every pill he swallowed, every minute he spent awake wondering what is he even doing, and there was nothing, absolutely nothing that could make it go away, that could make death change it’s stubborn mind and to leave Sean Diaz alone, because, throughout the years, it simply grew too fond of him.

And with time, Sean just… Accepted it. He accepted being handpicked by death itself and stopped fighting it because no matter how hard he tried to avoid it, to get rid of it, to pretend that everything was fine, nothing helped; nothing but the acceptance and the handfuls of numbing bitterness he consumed at least two yellow tubes of each month for the past, God knows how many years. Of course, things could’ve been a lot worse, and Sean was fully aware of that - he knew that he was extremely privileged for being able to settle back into society relatively easily after being released from his sentence of nearly two decades spent in one of the country’s biggest federal prisons.

Frankly speaking, it wasn’t about settling back into society as much as it was about doing something he secretly always dreamed of, even before the story of the Wolf Brothers began on that chilly Friday afternoon, in a completely ordinary, perfectly average October of a past, long-lost life. In fact, if someone told sixteen-year-old Sean that everything that’s about to happen to him will eventually lead to a new life in which he is a comic book artist who gets paid for drawing the weird shit in his head, sixteen-year-old Sean would’ve probably laughed until his stomach hurt and happy tears started rolling down his cheek.

And yet, there he was that morning, on top of a hill above the Oregon coast, moderately enjoying his cheap instant coffee in the back of his station wagon (and after a glance at his peaky-faced reflection in the mirror, extremely judging his lack of self-discipline regarding taking care of his beard) while waiting for his tablet to charge fully so he can proceed with the next strips for the fifth chapter of The Adventures of the Pack. Chestnut was running around in excited circles, chasing grasshoppers and butterflies and occasionally, her tail, not particularly minding either her owner or the breathtaking view of the coast, and along with it, the quiet town of Arcadia Bay.

At first, he didn’t even think of making a stop at a seemingly insignificant place like Otter Point on his not-so-spontaneous journey - for some much-needed inspiration or for bittersweet reminiscence, he wasn’t entirely sure anymore -, but while going through dozens of maps and routes and painful memories on a sleepless night before his trip, he stumbled upon a picture Daniel sent him for one of his birthdays spent in prison. A picture from Away, to be precise, of a cozy little bonfire and four people with marshmallow sticks in their hands and tipsy smiles on their faces - a picture that kept him up awake for the whole night, with tears stuck halfway in his throat, desperately trying to fight their way through the walls Sean has built around himself. And the moment he saw David in the picture, he decided that after all the phone calls and visits and almost fatherly check-ins from the man throughout the past fifteen years, the least he can do is stopping in David’s hometown for a quick page or two on his way down South.

“Man, it must be tough being you”, Sean chuckled as he put his empty mug on the small writing desk in the corner of his on-the-go bedroom, looking at Chestnut playing in the dry dirt alongside the road with a wide, amused smile on his face. “Careful, though… I’d rather not break my neck trying to rescue you if you fall down” he added, climbing out of the back of his car with nimble reflexes, the sudden movement answered with excited bark coming from the wolfdog pup.

“Would you look at that”, said Sean with an impressed little snort, walking up to the fence and bending over to rest his arms on it, eyes roaming the endless, unbelievably blue ocean and the gentle waves washing up against the pale sands of Arcadia Bay’s shores. “Can’t decide if it’s beautiful or the most boring shit I’ve ever seen, to be honest… What d’ya think, huh?”, he raised his eyebrows, peeking down at Chestnut yelping next to him, and giving her a loving scratch behind the ears. “Come, check this out”, he beckoned to the visitors plaque next to them with his chin, patting Chestnut’s side gently as he stepped up to the laminated board, full of colorful images of the local wildlife and the town’s various attractions.

“Yeah? That’s where you wanna go?”, he laughed, as Chestnut suddenly stood up on her rear legs, front paws propped against the plaque, curious golden eyes fixated on the picture of Arcadia Bay’s imposing lighthouse. “Y’know what, why the fuck not, we got all the time in the world… At least ‘til next Wednesday'' Sean sighed, looking up from the slightly faded photograph to the actual lighthouse in the distance, peeking out from countless majestic pine trees, its bright, white light rotating with a slow and steady speed on the opposite end of the bay on top of a cliff.

There was something strange, something unsettling about the tall, robust tower that Sean couldn’t exactly put his finger on. He found himself staring at the lighthouse as if it held all the secrets, all the answers to all the questions he’s been searching for all his life - he couldn’t move, he couldn’t blink, he couldn’t even catch his breath for what felt like an eternity, even though it was but a mere moment. As if something was calling him, an invisible, eerie force locking his eyes on the lighthouse, Sean just stood there petrified, and if it wasn’t for Chestnut and her eager little woof startling him back to reality, he probably would’ve stayed there like that until sunset.

“Yeah, why the fuck not”, he murmured under his nose, shaking his head like he just woke from a weird dream as he turned away from Arcadia Bay and walked up to his car, trying to ignore the uncanny tingling in the back of his head - and the unmistakable feeling of being watched by a pair of all-seeing, otherworldly eyes.

It took surprisingly long to get to the other side of the bay from Otter Point. By the time Sean reached the lighthouse, the sun was high in the spotless blue sky, radiating its warm light so dazzlingly he had to shield his eyes with his hand as he exited the car. He parked the station wagon in a small clearing surrounded by fragrant, sky-high pine trees, at the bottom of a meandrous set of wooden stairs half-eaten by the soil, and began his short hike up to the lighthouse with Chestnut trotting by his side. The forest around them was peaceful and bustling with cheerful and welcoming Spring life; they saw busy bees and chirping birds and dancing butterflies everywhere as they made their way uphill, following the glimmering sunspots on the ground.

“Alright, same rules apply, okay? No running along the edge, it’s rocky down there”, said Sean when they reached the top of the stairs, grabbing Chestnut’s collar the very last minute before the pup could just storm off to explore the uncharted territory. “Stay… Staaay…”, he raised his eyebrows as the pup looked up at him with giant eyes full of excited sparkles, wagging her tail like the clearing in front of her was the last one on Earth to roam. “Good girl. Run along now, but carefully, please”, he said after a moment or two, as he let go of Chestnut, watching her dart off as a fired arrow with a proud, fatherly smile on his face before following the pup to the clearing.

The lighthouse stood tall on the edge of the cliff, watching over Arcadia Bay like a robust, all-seeing guardian. Seeing the tower up close, Sean felt the same magnetic energy that practically hypnotized him from all the way across the bay, only this time, he felt it ten folds stronger, as he stood there and stared at the lighthouse, tilting his head back as much as he could to take in the breathtaking sight in all its mesmerizing entirety. It felt like he arrived in another dimension where time didn’t work as it did on his own; as if a heavy, velvety curtain fell on the world, closing around the cliff and creating an odd, languid void where the pace of time just wasn’t the same. It was quiet, yes, peaceful, even, but at the same time, the air was strangely disturbed, unsettling and mysterious - and eerily inviting.

After what felt like half a lifetime of staring at the lighthouse, Sean noticed a worn bench on the edge of the cliff. He watched Chestnut sweep across the clearing, very much occupied with chasing something that looked like an azure-blue butterfly at first glance, before walking up to the bench and sitting down on it, turning his gaze towards the magnificent view of the bay below him as he reached for his cigarette case in his pocket. With the first puff of bitter smoke, he closed his eyes, and for a while, he just listened to the waves crashing against the rocks at the bottom of the cliff and the squawking of a few stray seagulls circling around the lantern room, before bringing himself to unzip his backpack and pull out his tablet and sketchbook from the messy depths of it.

He only hesitated for a brief moment before he put the tablet back in his bag, and along with it, his deadlines and professional responsibilities, settling with his trusted sketchbook instead. He preferred drawing on actual paper with an actual pen anyway, and he felt like procrastinating a little before letting his work swallow him in one bite. Flipping through dozens of pages of unfinished drawings until he finally reached a blank page, Sean started sketching Arcadia Bay with strainless ease, his eye constantly moving back and forth between the sketchbook and the view until the chaos of thin, black lines started to come together and he didn’t have to look anymore.

And this is when the time truly stopped around him, as it always did when Sean took the pen. It was just him and his vision of the world under the sun, and of course, Chestnut running around the clearing, her lanky, brown form always somewhere in the corner of his eye.

“You’re really pressed about this butterfly, aren’t you”, he chuckled as Chestnut ran across his feet relentlessly, making Sean look up from the content little wolf he’s been sketching for a while without even realizing that he started adding it to the drawing. He didn’t even notice anymore, since this was the case with many, if not most of his drawings - as if he was physically incapable of finishing a drawing without wolves in it, or for that matter, drawing for someone who wasn’t his brother.

“I mean, it’s a pretty fucking stunning butterfly if you ask me”, answered a mischievous voice beside him, completely out of the blue, startling Sean so unexpectedly that he almost fell off the bench.

“De puta madr-!!”, he exclaimed in fright as he turned his head, and the next moment, he found himself staring at a young, slim girl, leaning against the crooked fence on the edge of the cliff. “I mean, ugh Jesus. Sorry, I didn’t see you there” he added quickly, clearing his throat as he looked the girl up and down, wondering how long has it been since she got there - and most importantly, how in the world didn’t he notice her when she arrived.

“It’s kinda rare that anyone does, to be honest” shrugged the girl, stepping away from the fence, piercing blue eyes shifting from Sean’s colorless face to the sketchbook in his lap. She was tall and slender, wearing ripped jeans with a leather jacket and a black beanie, electric blue hair framing her narrow, elfish face. She looked like she was in her late teens, early twenties, maybe, and even though Sean was certain he’s never seen her before, somehow it felt like he’s known the girl for his entire life. “What are you drawing? Can I see?”

“Sure, take a look” he said, scooting over a little so the girl could sit next to her. “It’s a… I don’t even know what, that started off as a landscape sketch” he explained, scratching the inner corner of his empty eye socket and suddenly wishing he put on his eyepatch before coming up to the lighthouse. The girl, however, was way too invested in his sketchbook to even notice that there was something unusual about his appearance, and even if she did, she didn’t seem to be taken aback by it - or at least she didn’t feel the urge to stare, unlike most people Sean has met throughout his life.

“This is really cool, dude” the girl said after a while, looking up at him with a wide, impressed grin before turning her gaze back to Sean’s drawing. “Are you like, an artist or something?”

“Artist is an overstatement but yeah, I draw comics for a living” Sean answered, reaching out for Chestnut when he noticed the pup is running towards him. “This one isn’t for work though. It’s a… Gift. For my brother”, he added, his smile suddenly fading with the words, and not returning even when Chestnut wriggled her way in between his legs and placed her head in his lap, staring up at him with giant puppy eyes.

“Something gives me the impression that he’s the small one”, the girl chuckled, pointing at the younger wolf on Sean’s drawing, chasing a butterfly on the edge of the cliffside looking over Arcadia Bay, next to his bigger, scruffier, one-eyed brother, relaxing under a pine tree.

“I have no idea what makes you say that” said Sean with a faint smile on his face, gently fondling Chestnut’s head in his lap. “The older I get, the more it feels like it’s the other way around, to be honest”, he sighed quietly, feeling his entire chest harden all of a sudden as he took a glance at his sketchbook between the long nails of the strange girl next to her.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” asked the girl bluntly the next moment, carefully closing Sean’s sketchbook and putting it between them on the bench. “I don’t think I’ve seen you in Arcadia Bay before, and that’s pretty shocking considering that we’re talking about a town of 200 people where nothing ever happens…”

“Yeah, I’m just traveling. Thought I’d drive through town and check out the view from here” Sean answered, and as he pulled out another cigarette from his pocket, he couldn’t help but notice the sudden sparks of longing in the girl’s eyes. “You want one?”

“Not gonna lie, I could kill for a smoke… But no thanks. I… Can’t”, the girl gulped, watching with eager eyes as Sean reluctantly put the cigarette in his mouth. “Oh, no, it’s okay, I don’t mind. The smell’s gonna do the trick” she said, exhaling the smoke of the first huff with a strange, almost euphoric smile as Sean lit his cigarette at last.

“Oh man… You got some superior shit right there” she said, her smile slowly growing into a content, wide grin. “But anyway… As much as Arcadia Bay is the most boring shithole in the whole wide world, I hope your trip was worth it in the end.”

“Sounds like you lived here for a while, huh?”, Sean asked, eyebrows raised, to which the girl let out a sarcastic snort. “Oof. That bad?”

“There are no words to describe just how bad, my dude” the girl answered, shaking her head and wrapping her arms around her long legs pulled up to her chest. “I’ve been stuck here my whole fucking life. Wanted to leave since I was fourteen” she continued, the playful cheer suddenly leaving her voice and leaving behind gloomy shadows on her face. “Should’ve gotten the fuck outta here the first chance I got”, she said sourly, planting her chin between her knees and staring blankly in the distance, to a faraway place Sean couldn’t follow her to - and even if he could, he wouldn’t want to.

“So why didn’t you?”, Sean blurted out before thinking twice, but before he could even think of a way to apologize for possibly having crossed a line, the girl laughed out loud and dry.

“Have a wild guess, dude. ‘Cause of love, of course”, she snorted again, only this time, sarcasm was replaced with something much darker in her tone. “I was just waiting for the right time y’know. Back then, I had no idea that no such thing exists. Not for anything, not for anyone. There is just you and time, and time is nothing but a massive fucking trap, waiting for you to get stuck in it” she said, eyes darker than the coldest nights of winter. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to explode like that.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize for anything”, Sean shook his head, placing his burnt-out cigarette butt under the bench next to the previous one. “I’m just not sure I get what you mean.”

“No worries, I wouldn’t expect you to get it anyway” the girl shrugged, and the next moment, she turned her gaze to Sean, all-seeing blue eyes staring right into his soul. “You know, people hardly ever come to the lighthouse anymore, except when they should be somewhere else. And even if they come, they barely notice me. It’s nice that you did. And that you listened, too. I’m not sure where you’re supposed to be now, but I’m glad you’re here” she smiled, patting Sean’s hand with a surprisingly cold palm briefly, retreating almost immediately as he shuddered next to her.

“Yeah, I’m glad I took a little detour too” he smiled back at the girl before his glance wandered off to his sketchbook lying between them on the bench. “But I think I should get going now. I’d love to stay and chat, but… I’m ridiculously late already”, he added, a concerned frown taking over the upper half of his face, and a bewildered grin the lower, as somehow, at that moment, he realized there’s a chance that perhaps he has given into the nonsense of his own depression slightly more than he should have in the first place.

“Yeah, you probably are”, said the girl with a playful wink, standing up from the bench and stretching her long arms above her head. “Man, what a spectacular fucking afternoon. I mean, look at the Sun. Such a radiant bitch boss, for real”, she declared lovingly, making Sean laugh out loud for the first time in the past few days, or even weeks, maybe.

“Need a lift?”, Sean asked the girl as they turned their backs on the lighthouse, and started walking towards the staircase leading to the small clearing at the bottom of the cliff.

“Nah, thanks, but I’m not done here yet”, the girl said, shoving both her hands in the pockets of her skinny jeans. “Got some wandering to do, y’know… Contemplating the beauty of Spring and all” she looked at him with a somewhat shy smile, and Sean decided not to risk crossing any more lines with any more questions.

“I guess this is where we part ways then” he nodded his head when they reached his station wagon, waiting patiently next to the tourist map of the cliff. “Enjoy contemplating the beauty of Spring, I guess?”, he smiled at the girl, opening the door of the passenger’s seat for Chestnut.

“Yeah, thanks, man. You take care too, okay?” answered the girl, and the next moment, before Sean could say anything, her eyes suddenly widened. “And don’t forget to sketch up a cool portrait of me or something if you got the time, will you?”

“Stop reading my mind, a’ight?” Sean laughed, waving at the girl before sitting in his car, a sudden burst of energy washing over him as the door closed behind him. The urge to drive as fast as he just can was stronger than he’s ever felt it before, but somehow, he managed to control it, closing his eyes and leaning back on his seat for a long, silent moment before reaching for his phone. Swiping away dozens of notifications, he then opened his contacts and pressed call on the first name on top of the list - the only number he’s ever called, really.

The ringing stopped right after he pressed his phone between his ear and shoulder, and turned the car key under the steering wheel.

“Hey enano. I’m on my way.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Hey! Thank you for reading! ❤

This short story is my contribution to a Christmas Short Story Exchange we did with my best friends. (It is also my first ever fanfiction in English!) I was writing for one of my best friends who got me into Life is Strange years ago, so when we pulled each other’s names and I found out I’m writing for her, I immediately knew that I’ll work with the Diaz brothers and Chloe.

2020 Christmas Short Story Exchange Word count: 5353 | Written December 22nd-27th. I’m on AO3 now! Head over for more fanfictions. ❤

#fanfiction #Life is Strange #Life is Strange 2 #Sean Diaz #Daniel Diaz #Lyla Park #Chloe Price #Post-Redemption Ending #Post-Save Arcadia Bay Ending #under 10k #story #writing #writers on tumblr #short story #fan fiction #fanfic #light angst

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skekzok-the-ritual-master · 4 years

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Out Of Character Questions

ROLEPLAYER GET TO KNOW YOU PROMPT

Tagged by: @hedonistschambers

Tagging: @ask-skeksa-the-mariner, @allpowerfulemperor, @asktheornamentalist, @askurva-thearcher, and anyone else who wants to :)

OOC About Your Character(s)

1. What do you want to get out of playing this character(s)?

I used to RP on Tumblr a lot in the Megamind fandom, and seeing other Dark Crystal RPers on here made me want to try getting back into RP a little. Since I don’t have any Dark Crystal OCs who lend themselves well to RP, I decided to go with a canon character, and skekZok was a prominent one who hadn’t gotten a blog yet. I’ve always liked looking at characters and thinking about what makes them tick, so this gives me a fun chance to do that for him.

2. Describe your character(s) with three words.

Cultured | Sadistic | Hypocritical

3. What made you decide to write this muse?

I’d been following the blogs of a few other Skeksis RPers, and the absence of Zok had been remarked on. Since he’s one of my favorites, I decided to make a blog for him and join in the fun.

4. If you could change one event in your muse’s life (in their main or canon verse), what would you change?

That’s a tough one, because Zok really doesn’t suffer that much in canon compared to other characters. I might stop ZokZah from trying to burn out part of his soul, but skekZok wouldn’t exist and there wouldn’t be much of a story if I did that. (If we include the JM Lee novels, I’d change it so he doesn’t throw skekSa under the bus.)

5. If you could tell your muse one thing, what would you tell them?

“Don’t stab the blonde Gelfling girl. It won’t prevent the prophecy, and she’ll just come back to life anyway.”

6. If you could give your muse one gift, what would you give them?

I’d love to see his reaction to a Swiss Army knife.

7. If you had to take one positive thing away from your muse, what would you take away?

I’m not sure how positive this is, but I’d take away his ability to believe his own lies. It would be interesting to see how he tries to juggle all the conflicting rules and stories he’s come up with over the centuries.

8. If you could “borrow” one aspect of your muse and apply it to yourself or your own life, what would you borrow?

His talent for speaking in public. I wish I could command an audience like he does.

9. Do you genuinely want your muse to be happy? What do you think would make them most happy in life?

Considering the kind of things that tend to make Zok happy? Maybe. As for what would make him happiest, he believes it would be achieving immortality and remaining one of the highest-ranked of the court and having skekSa as his permanent mate, but that still won’t heal the spiritual emptiness inside him. Much as I enjoy Zok and Zah as separate beings, I do think reunification was the best thing for them. If he and SaSan could have been together after that, that would have been even better.

10. Do you enjoy putting your muse through angst? What do you think would break their heart the most?

I don’t mind angst in small doses, as long as I plot it out with the other player(s) beforehand and we agree how it will turn out in the end. Zok doesn’t lend himself easily to angst, but losing his place in the court hierarchy or having one of his allies turn on him would do it. He’s also come to genuinely believe the mythology he’s invented over the centuries -- anything that seriously challenged that worldview would be hard for him to deal with.

11. What do you love about your muse?

A lot of things. His charisma, his striking blue eyes, the way his voice is deeper and smoother than most of the other Skeksis, how over-the-top his gold outfit is, how he’s so attached to his headdress that he doesn’t even take it off in the spa, how unrepentantly creepy and sadistic he is -- he’s a very enjoyable character, even if he is a horrible birb.

12. What do you hate about your muse?

He's not an easy character to have interact with everyone. He can pretend to be nice when it suits him, and he’s not totally incapable of caring about people, but he’s still nasty enough that I can tell in advance a lot of interactions wouldn’t go well.

13. What about your muse amuses you?

The contrast between the austere image he tries to keep up, and how frazzled he gets when something upsets that image (”MY CARRIAGE!”). Also when he gets sarcastic or looks down on the others when they act in a less-than-civilized way.

14. What about your muse makes you sad?

All the people he’s hurt, and how unwilling he is to see that his way of life isn’t sustainable and won’t truly make him happy in the end.

15. How would you describe your muse to someone about to meet them, in person, for the first time?

“This guy is a creep, but he believes in good manners. Tread lightly, and you should be okay.”

16. Would you like your muse as a person if you met them in real life?

LOL no. He’s an awful person who is best left in the realm of fiction.

17. In what ways are you better than your muse? In what ways are they better than you?

I like to think I’m a much nicer person than he is. I can be blunt and a bit of a troll sometimes, but I really don’t like hurting anyone, or trying to force people to do stuff they don’t like. As for Zok, he’s much more confident and well-spoken than I am, and he’s had the determination to stick with one job for a thousand years.

18. Why do you think you connect to your muse?

We’re both interested in culture, myth, and history, and feel better when we can assign some order to the world around us.

19. What aspect of your muse’s personality is most important to you? What aspect of your muse’s personality do you think is most important to them? Is it the same? Why or why not?

As I see it, the core of Zok’s character is that he wants to bring order to the world; that’s why his job title is ‘Ritual Master’ rather than ‘High Priest’ or something more overtly religious. If he can’t see an obvious reason why things are the way they are, he’ll invent one that makes sense to him (and serves his needs).

I think this is what Zok sees as his most important trait too -- in his mind, he took a bunch of feral newborn creatures who (by all rights) were never meant to have existed in the first place, and helped turn them into a civilized, godlike people who rule an entire planet. But that feral nature is always under the surface, and they still need ritual and order (and yes, punishment) to keep it in check.

20. Has your character(s) changed over the time that you have been playing them? How have they changed?

I haven’t been playing Zok for very long, but I’ve recently had a chance to write how he feels about deeper questions, like what it would mean for Skeksis to have children, and what happens to Skeksis and urRu souls after they die. I think it’s made him a bit more three-dimensional.

About You!

1. What is your name?

Kate, a.k.a. Crow or Lady Stormcrow

2. What is your profession?

Social worker, currently working in substance abuse treatment.

3. What do you do to relax?

Watch favorite TV shows, play video games, listen to music, hang out outdoors, chat online.

4. What is your favorite treat (desert)?

I have a big weakness for flan and other custard desserts. Also caramel.

5. Favorite movie

Amadeus (1984).

6. Favorite book

Good Omens (and yes I loved the series too).

7. Favorite vacation spot

Grand Cayman. We were supposed to visit again this spring, but COVID happened.

8. Favorite Disney movie

I’m not sure I have one favorite, but I love Fantasia and The Rescuers.

9. How did you first get into role playing?

Almost 20 years ago, lol. When I first started going online in high school, I made an online friend ( @ksclaw ) who introduced me to the concept. We played interactions with our SWAT Kats fan characters, and she helped me get the hang of it.

10. What was your first platform? If it was something other than Tumblr, what made you get into Tumblr?

It was Livejournal. I discovered Tumblr in late 2011 after my friends in the Megamind fandom introduced me to it, and most of us migrated here from our old LJ community. I loved being able to reblog whatever struck my fancy, and while my interest has waxed and waned, as you can see I’m still here.

11. What’s a grammar rule you find yourself breaking or ignoring a lot?

I like to think I have pretty good grammar. I know I’m guilty of run-on sentences, though, and I overuse ellipses and mix up ; and -- far too much.

12. Are there any languages besides English in which you think you could comfortably roleplay?

Not really. I can speak and understand a little Spanish and French, but not enough to write anything meaningful, and I’m wary of translation software for anything beyond a short sentence. Sorry!

13. Do you listen to music while your write?

Sometimes. Usually not when I’m doing the actual writing (that’s distracting, and I like to hear the words in my head), but I’ll listen to it beforehand to get myself in a mood or get some inspiration.

14. Are you a morning, day, evening, or night writer?

Late morning after I’ve had my coffee is usually my best time. Unfortunately I’m usually at work during that time, but on slow days and weekends I try to take advantage of it.

15. How does tiredness affect your writing?

It turns me into a zombie who can dream but cannot actually write.

16. What is your biggest obstacle to writing every day, if time doesn’t count?

Lack of motivation. I daydream and imagine stuff easily enough, but putting it down into writing is much harder, especially when I’m braindead from work.

17. How many drafts is a paralyzing amount?

More than 5 is daunting, though fortunately Zok hasn’t gotten that many yet.

18. Is there anything character-wise or writing style-wise that you can’t stand?

Players who are unwilling to have their characters be in the wrong, or who get upset if my character doesn’t react the way they wanted. Not all interactions are going to be smooth and happy, and I’m fine with that. Your character is not you, just like mine is not me.

19. What kind of anonymous questions are your favorite?

Weird ones. I like having my muses react to them.

20. What is your weakest point in writing? Angst, fluff, dialogue, etc.?

Fluff is kind of tricky. I don’t have trouble imagining it, but I get paralyzed thinking “this is too indulgent, I shouldn’t publish it, no one but me will like it, etc.” Maybe that’s part of why Zok appeals to me, because he’s not the fluffy type.

#ooc #writing

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lilfellasblog · 5 years

Text

‘Cause If We’re Talking Bodies (You’ve Got a Perfect One) P.1 - Patton’s 2019 Birthday Fic!

Summary: Patton loves his boyfriends so much!! He just wish he had more to offer.

OML I accidentally missed Patton’s Name Reveal Day by two months!!! Patton, I’m so sorry, I love you and you deserve better! Here’s a little fic for you!! This first chapter turned into plot by accident, and the second half is just smut. Slightly kinky, sweet smut. That’s it. Enjoy the plot while it lasts! :3

A/N: If you liked this, please reblog. It is the only way to help this fic reach a wider audience. Tumblr ate most of my fics that I know I posted here, which makes me very sad for a lot of reasons, one of the biggest being that the love and comments and tags that folks showed this fic is gone into the ether.

TW: Body insecurity, kissing, mentions of sex, negative self-talk, crying, and LAMP sex almost happens in this chapter. Let me know if I missed any!

Word Count: 2424

Part 2 here!

AO3 here!

Fic Masterlist here!

Patton stared at his reflection in the mirror. He was the Side that encompasses Thomas’ eating habits, and they could honestly use some work. Last night, he’d devoured half a pizza and several Krispy Kreme donuts for dinner, and looked at the raw cookie dough in the fridge as a late-night snack.

It’s all your fault he feels bad about his eating and his body. Just look at you!

Patton’s eyes burned as he took in his appearance. Stretch marks decorated the sides of his stomach and thighs, and his stomach was definitely rounded. His arms were chubby, and his thighs chafed if he didn’t make sure his pants were securely belted up. He’d even slept wrong, and now his shoulder hurts!

He’d had to comfort Thomas while editing the latest Awkward Adventures video about going into a sensory deprivation tank. When the time came to edit Thomas’ reaction to the experience, they’d both broken down into tears. Patton stuffed his feelings down quickly so he could rise up and comfort Thomas. Thomas ended up deciding to not show his body at all.

Patton hugged his middle as he allowed himself his pre-breakfast cry. Soon, too soon, his alarm went off. Time to get breakfast ready!

Patton cleaned up his face in his bathroom and threw on his day clothes. They were so tight, he hated how tight they were, they left red marks on his body where the hems and elastic dug in. He used to wear his clothes looser, but then he’d gotten into a relationship with the other three core Sides over a year ago. They deserved someone with a better body. Despite his lingering sadness, he smiled at the memory. It had been Logan to confess one morning that he was in love with them and that repressing those feelings was causing him significant enough distress to impair his functioning. Patton and Roman had quickly confessed after that, followed by a soft, shy admission from Virgil.

His phone brought him back out of his thoughts. Oh rats, I’m late!! Stupid, airhead Patton! Can’t do anything right!! Patton sniffled back tears as he bolted from his room and downstairs. Thankfully, no one was up yet. He quickly started a pot of coffee and grabbed pancake mix.

Blueberries or chocolate chip? Blueberries or chocolate chip? Come ON Patton, make up your mind!

Patton grabbed the chocolate chips and folded them in with the pancake batter. He quickly grabbed some breakfast sausages and eggs, started heating up the breakfast sausages, and started scrambling the eggs. Once he had the eggs going at a low enough temperature with butter and milk, he started scooping pancakes onto a flat griddle. Careful to watch the pancakes, he whipped the eggs so they were aerated and fluffy, then just as they were almost done, he seasoned them with paprika, a pinch of salt, some pepper, and a bit of garlic. He switched between the eggs and pancakes, and soon he had a large pile of both ready.

Patton quickly set the table as he heard the other three Sides come down the stairs. Come on, this is the LEAST you can do for forcing them to be in a relationship with you, you disgusting-

“Hey Pat, smells great,” Virgil mumbled as he walked in.

“Well thanks kiddo! I do my best!” Patton chirped. Virgil grunted in acknowledgment and sleepily filled his mug with coffee. Patton tried to not let his heart break. He’s just tired, I know Virgil loves my cooking!

Maybe he would if you weren’t trying to get him as fat as you.

I”m not!

Oh? Is that why you put butter in the eggs? And chocolate chips in the pancakes? This entire meal is unhealthy, and you couldn’t even manage to swap out candy for fruit? No wonder they barely tolerate you.

Patton bit the inside of his cheek so he wouldn’t show any negative emotion. Logan and Roman entered the kitchen moments later.

“Salu-”

“GREETINGS WONDERFUL CITIZENS!!”

“-tations,” Logan finished dryly.

Patton forced a giggle. “Greetings and salutations to you too!”

Logan sent him a rare smile, one that made Patton question all over again why they were with him. Logan was the embodiment of the sexy professor and had a firm runner’s body, Virgil was edgy with an undercurrent of sweet that made his lithe body move in the filthiest of ways, and Roman… dear god, Roman was built like a hero prince. A single glance from any of them could make him swoon, and what did Patton have to offer? And unattractive, misshapen, chubby body. The least he could do was cook for them, and don’t get him wrong, he loved cooking! But he could never seem to do it right. It was never healthy enough, elegant enough, complex enough. Patton spent hours every day crying, trying to brace himself as best he could for the inevitable break up, where he’d be the singleton and the other three would finally be in a happy relationship. He didn’t want his heartbreak to affect Thomas too much.

“Ah, pancakes! In a chocolate chip mood, my perfect Patton?”

The unexpected comment caused Patton to burst into tears. He sees what you’re doing, he sees how gross you are, how you’re-

A hand started gently rubbing his back. “Shhhhh, Patton dear, tell us what’s wrong,” Logan soothed.

Patton sniffled in a weak attempt to stop his crying. I can’t tell them! “I j-just love you all s-so m-m-much a-and I have a l-lot of f-f-feelings!”

There! I didn’t lie!

Lie of omission.

Patton cried harder at failing his job as Morality. Some Side you are. Thomas would be better off without you. They’d all be better off without you. Roman came over and threaded his fingers into Patton’s hair, scratching at his scalp.

“Oh darling, goodness gracious,” Logan chuckled, “I love you too.”

Sounds of agreement came from around the kitchen, but the lies only made Patton more upset. Look at how much they have to lie just to not set you off!

“I-I’m sorry guys,” Patton whimpered, “I’ll be fine, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m sorry I get so,” Patton’s bottom lip quivered as he sniffled, “emotional,” he finished in a broken voice.

“My sweet angel, that is one of the reasons we love you!” Roman declared.

Patton looked up in disbelief. “R-really?”

“Yeah, of course,” Virgil said as he came over and put a hand on Patton’s shoulder. Patton winced at Virgil having to feel his fat.

“O-oh.”

The hand on his back stopped moving. “Sweetheart, do you think we dislike your displays of emotions?”

“Y-yes? I know they can be a lot…” And I don’t even have a good body to offer you.

To his surprise, Virgil dove in and practically tackle-hugged Patton. Patton flinched when he felt Virgil’s arms go around his belly.

“Patton, we love you. Goddammit, I fucking hate myself,” Virgil shook his head, “Sorry. I just, what did I do to make you think that?”

Patton awkwardly draped an arm over Virgil’s back. “Nothing! You didn’t do anything kiddo!”

“Was it Logan or I?” Roman asked as he moved his hand from Patton’s hair to underneath his chin.

“No! You guys are fine, you didn’t do anything wrong!”

Logan kissed the top of Patton’s head. “Know that we love you, including your emotions. Let us eat. Food can help improve mood, particularly after a full night’s sleep.”

“You’re so smart Lo!”

“Thank you.”

Roman and Logan returned to their seats while Virgil pulled up and gave Patton a kiss. “I love you too Pat.”

“Love ya kiddo,” Patton said quietly as he stared into Virgil’s eyes. Virgil smiled, gave Patton one last kiss, and sat back down. Breakfast passed normally, the Sides chatting about Thomas’ upcoming week, and Patton trying to control his thoughts enough so he could pay attention. Once breakfast wrapped up, everybody helped clean and put dishes away.

Patton expected everyone to go back to their rooms after that, but Roman came up next to Patton, put his hand on Patton’s lower back, and kissed the top of his head. He started moving his hand in little up and down motions, so his pinky finger was just above Patton’s belt.

“I would like to show you how much I love you. Would you be amenable to that sunshine?” Roman rumbled.

Patton shivered at Roman’s tone and the idea of having to be naked around him. They’d had sex plenty of times, but only when Patton had a better self-image day. Come on Patton, you stressed them all out right at the beginning of the day! Get them in a better mood!

“That sounds great!” Patton lied.

Roman chuckled darkly. “Wonderful. From Logan and Virgil’s faces, it would seem they would like to join us. Is that something you’d like as well?“

Oh jeepers, they’re all going to see me! “It’ll be a party!”

Roman chuckled again and pulled Patton against him, kissing him deeply. “Shall we go to my room? I believe my bed is the only one large enough to accommodate all of us.”

“Sure!”

Roman kissed Patton again. Patton reciprocated as best he could, and then he was being gently led up the stairs.

I can do this, I can do this, I can do this…

The door opened to Roman’s room, and Logan dragged him in, meeting him in a filthy kiss.

I can’t do this.

Patton whimpered and pulled back, hiding his face in Logan’s chest. Logan froze, then wrapped his arms gently around Patton’s back.

“Dearest? What’s wrong?”

Patton opened his mouth to speak, but no words came to him. He just pressed into Logan’s chest further.

“Do you want to stop?”

Patton hated himself for it, but he nodded his head with another whimper. He started sniffling and his breath began to hitch. Logan pressed a chaste kiss to the top of Patton’s head and rubbed the back of Patton’s neck.

“Shhhhh, it’s okay darling.”

Roman came over to put a hand on his back. Patton smelled cinnamon and roses. “It’s alright love. It’s okay, I promise.”

He sensed Virgil approach but stop, unsure. Patton took a deep, shaky breath. “I want to, I do, I love you guys, and god you’re all so attractive, it’s just…”

Roman shifted next to him. “My sweet, you don’t have to say yes just because I asked. Have you…” he trailed off.

Patton couldn’t let his prince think that! “No! I promise, I’m sorry. You’re all so hot, and I’m…” Patton’s voice broke. “Not.”

Virgil spoke up from behind him. “If you talk bad about yourself I’m going to physically fight you!”

Patton giggled through his tears.

“Darling, I can assure you we find you quite attractive,” Logan purred.

Patton looked up at Logan. “Really? You do?”

Logan’s eyes darkened as his gaze bored into Patton’s eyes. “Very much so,” he nearly growled.

Patton blushed hotly at the tone while Roman chuckled and leaned over to whisper in Patton’s ear. “I can assure you, I share the same sentiments as Logan.”

“Holy shit Pat, me too. You really don’t know you’re hot as fuck?”

“Language.”

“English.”

Patton turned around to level a disapproving stare at Virgil, who just smirked that damnable smirk of his. Patton was worried his glasses were about to melt off his face from the heat.

“Let’s go downstairs. I believe a conversation may be long overdue.”

Patton bit the inside of his cheek again, terrified as to what Logan was talking about. He followed them downstairs and couldn’t stop himself from leaning against Logan on the couch. Logan wrapped an arm around Patton and kissed his temple. Patton giggled lightly. It was the small gestures Logan did that reminded Patton what a big softie he really was.

Once everyone was settled, Logan began speaking. “Patton, love, are you insecure about your body?”

Patton tensed and looked down. “Maybe a little…”

He heard Roman about to jump into a dramatic monologue, but Logan gently raised his hand to stop him. Roman settled back with a small huff.

“How long have you been feeling this way love?”

Patton pressed into Logan’s side. “Well, I guess I’ve always known I wasn’t as… attractive as you guys, but I started feeling bad about it when we started dating. I’ve got the worst body out of all of you, and now you have to be with me when you all are so dreamy? It’s not fair to you guys!”

Noises of protest came from the other side of the couch before Logan raised his hand again. “My dear, do you think we’d sleep with you if we didn’t want to?”

Patton brought his legs up. “I don’t know… you could always pretend…”

“I find your body very appealing.”

“As do I.”

“Pat, you’re fucking hot.”

“Virgil. Language.”

“Still English.”

Patton decided to let it slide at the amused puff of air he felt from Logan.

“Darling, I know that our reassurances are hardly enough to change your mind, but I they give you some peace. I believe that Roman can conjure Dr. Picani in the Imagination. Would you like to go see him to talk further about your body image? You do not have to if it would make you uncomfortable.”

Patton sighed. “That might not be a terrible idea. I’m sorry for bringing you guys down.”

Virgil interjected. “Pat. I Will. Physically fight you.”

Patton giggled at the running joke.

“Why don’t we have Thomas watch some Parks and Rec? I think a mental health break may be in order.”

Patton smiled up at Logan. “That sounds like fun!”

Logan smiled back down. “Wonderful. I’ll go grab some snacks. Roman, if you would?”

Patton was confused until Roman pulled Patton into his lap. They both laughed as they fell slightly to the side.

“I love you, my sweet angel.”

Patton felt something in his chest unclench and thaw. “I love you to.” He bit his lip and looked down. “You really find me attractive? You’re so…”

Roman smirked. “Dashing? Noble? Handsome? Breath-taking?”

Virgil grinned. “Pretentious?”

Roman let out a series of high-pitched scoffs as Patton giggled. I gotta admit, being held by a dashing prince is pretty nice!

Logan came back with the snacks. Virgil scooted over and put Patton’s legs over his own. Logan sat on the other side of Roman and pressed against Patton’s back.

Later, they’d show Patton just how much they appreciated his body.

#sanders sides #fanfic #lamp #patton sanders #body insecurities #virgil sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #calm #moxiety #logicality #royality #fic #fanfiction #ts sides

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iguanasarecute · 5 years

Text

(1) THE NEW STUDENT OF CLASS 1-A:

🔸 Damnly falling inlove with Katsuki Bakugo (BNHA)

Origins 1: The Gem of Class 1-A

overview: (y/n), a candidate of future's top 1 hero; went in to UA academy, the prestigious school. Her charismatic presence made a big impact on the class. Even the Ash-Blonde, Katsuki Bakugou, unveiled his soft-side just for her, until a major clash would happen; Shouto Todoroki would barge in the great picture of the pair.

[start]

~~~

[ The Day it all started ]

The familiar faces of Class 1-A's combat training has come to an end; as they jolted in Heights Alliance for a half an hour break. Untamed students went running in their rooms to change, hastily. Aizawa-sensei wouldn't want to be waiting, and they absolutely wouldn't want to be scolded.

They slumped in the Common room; fresh new clothes wrapped around their temples. Relaxed, so done with the motherfucking training, and would gladly want to be a burritoed with their blankets.

On the other hand, the Ash-blond, Katsuki Bakugou was heating up. Not by the fact that he was debilitated with the training, or atleast pissed that some dumbass knocked him down. The reason is, he was tidying up the dorm the whole day; and the extras would barge in like feral animals and mess the whole place up. Fucking house-arrest.

His knuckles balled up at his sides, "I wasn't even there to fucking knock you all pff! The fuck are ya'll so tired off?! Playing tag?!" Bakugou growled at his unbothered classmates, while he kicked the freckled-boy, Midoriya on the couch, "Move away Deku!" he shooed.

The front door slammed open, revealing their adviser who was so done with the world, "Class, Sit properly," Aizawa commanded, glaring at the stupefied students.

Iida chopped on the air as he announced, "Sir, we still have 11 minutes, 24 secons until the break is over!"

Eraserhead gave the class president a glare, "I am aware,"

"The reason why I crashed your..." Aizawa's puffy eyes roamed at the exhausted students, stamping a disgusted look on his face, "... crashed your rest," He cleared his voice, "Is because starting from tomorrow, someone who's not in your combats today, would officially join the class tomorrow," The class gazed at Katsuki with his iconic smirk etched on his face.

He made tiny explosions on his rough hands, "Damn right! I'm ready to kick all your asses—"

"Not because of Katsuki Bakugou," their adviser retorted.

"Sir, what do you mean?" Momo Yaoyorozu raised her hand.

"A replacement, since Bakugou made enough destructions that may affect the well-being of our class, and the prestigious image of UA," Aizawa responded toneless.

"HAHHHHH?!" The familiar faces of Class 1-A bolted. Even though they admit that Bakugou was a pain, they wouldn't really want him to be blowed off, and be replaced as if he's some damaged psycho.

Katsuki growled as he stood at the couch, "WHAT THE FUCK?! THIS ISN'T FUCKING HAPPENING! I'M ON TOP AND—"

"Kidding," Aizawa-sensei's deep voice chuckled lightly. The ash-blond slumped on the couch, mumbling under his mouth about his sudden (yet normal), wild behaviour.

Ashido tilted her head, "Sir, then what do you mean?" Her face matched with all the inquisitive reactions.

Aizawa-sensei glared at the students' obfuscated expressions, "This seems informal because I'm announcing this in your tired, and unpresentable state," he nodded, "But she unexpectedly arrived early; and I think this is the closest time to get her acquaintance," The class were exchanged 'What the fuck is happening' faces.

Their adviser coughed, "A new student," he announced. Giving the class inconsistent reactions, and feelings. Intrigued by the new face that would tag along their chaotic journey.

The red-headed, Kirishima, erupted in the middle of the class' little chit-chat, "That would make us 21? Right?" earning a slap at the back of the head from Bakugou.

"Congratulations you know how to count," a voice thundered, from the front door. The whole class darted their eyes on a black-haired female, who owns the sweetest smile.

Aizawa nodded at the female, "(Y/N) Memmije. She usually goes with Aiya, as a nickname, and was a Ketsubutsu top student," they scrutinized the new girl, leaving them in an awestruck, "Went in by various recommendations by Pro-heroes. She's well known by a lot as one of the candidate as future's Top 1 hero. It's UA's honor to raise a hero who has a bright future ahead," he coughed, "The performance she exhibited on the entrance exam, was tremendous. Principal Nezu and the whole faculty decided that she is beyond qualified to be a first-year, which we suggested that she may be moved at a higher level because of her advancement," His puffy eyes stared at the stunned class, "Though, with her age, the range is fitted on this grade level. Memmije also suggested that she might be strong, but still has a lot to improve," Aiya stood beside Aizawa, grinning awkwardly, "Please let yourselves know Memmije more, and accept her as one of you, open-armed," his eyes gleamed, "Get to know her briefly," Eraserhead gazed at Memmije, poking his head at the class.

(Y/N) 'Aiya' Memmije, sheepishly waved at the class who's still processing a glimpse of her unbelievable background, "Hi," the girls shook their heads and sprinted to Aiya, a bright smile on their faces.

Uraraka was enthusiastic with the idea of having an additional female finally, around the goons of boys in their class, "We call you (Y/N) or Aiya?"

"Anything works, but people in my school usually call me Aiya," she responded, as the females spiralled her.

"What kind of quirk do you have?" Ashido giggled, "From what Aizawa-Sensei mentioned, you're really stoooooong,"

(Y/N) scratched her head, "It's hard to explain,"

"We can't wait to find out!" Hagakure shrieked.

With the damsels gabbling with the new student, the boys sat stiffly on the couch; glaring at (Y/N) 'Aiya' Memmije, who has resplendent facial features, that seems to be jubilant with the interview.

Kirishima cut his gaze, tilting his head at the boys still glued on the fresh face, "Candidate for a Top 1 hero? On a fucking first year? That's... Wow," he yelped.

"Can you see those boobs? Hot, hot, hot," The grape-haired Mineta drooled.

Midoriya barged in the conversation, "If she's a candidate of being the greatest hero. It's another reason why we should work harder to reach her capabilities,"

"Psh! Her?! Beating me? Lame Ketsubutsu School has weak extras, that's why she's treated as as a fucking goddess," Bakugou scoffed.

Shouto's head tilted, "Aizawa-sensei informed us about how the Pro-heroes recommended her; also how Principal Nezu thinks she's way more advanced than us,"

"Shut up you fucking Christmas hair!" The Ash-blonde growled.

Aizawa cleared her throat, "Everyone prepare for your classes continuation,"

Iida, The class-president chopped on the air, "You heard Sir Aizawa! Everybody get ready and talk to Aiya-chan after class! 2 minutes and 31 seconds left in out break-time!" The females released (Y/N) on the hot-spot when Aiya gave them one last smile. On Eraserhead's cue, the boys stood up on the the couch; while they eyed her.

The puffy-eyed adviser announced, "Memmije would be joining the class tomorrow. She would be together with Bakugou throughout the day," the Ash-blond's eyes shot round.

"Bakugou, that's unfair!" Denki mocked at the inarticulate Katsuki, giving the new girl glares. Though he does admit, she does look less-annoying comparing her to the other extras.

Mina chuckled, "Looks like Bakugou has a crush!" they gawked at the round-eyed Crimson-red.

Bakugou scowled, "HAHHHH?!"

"Boys would be competing not only with being the top of the class; but also with the new-girl!" Hagakure gagged. The familiar faces of Class 1-A made their way out the Height Alliance as they gave their new classmate a wave goodbye.

Aizawa grabbed the Ash-blonde and leaned on his ears, "Don't get too confident trouble-kid, she might drag you down,"

That leaves (Y/N) 'Aiya' Memmije, in the huge ass dorm.

END OF CHAPTER 1

------

Italics at the beginning are from the future angst :')

🔸ORIGINS PART 2. CLICK HERE- continue reading

TO VIEW ALL THE CHAPTERS

(sorry for grammatical errors, i wrote this rlly fast aghh)

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kenneth-omega · 5 years

Text

Tequila Sunrise **Gwilym Lee**

A/N: Ok the name is literally just because the reader works in a bar in a really warm climate, holiday-popular spot, but it seemed low-key witty at the time. But yeah, this is based off the cute photos of Gwil from Top End Wedding. The idea of Gwil on holiday is so cute. I’m just doing some drabble writing before I get to the requests.

□■□■□■□■□

-you've been working abroad for around 2 years now, having decided to ditch your everyday, 9 to 5 job.

-although you've flicked between working in bars to restaurants, you've always said you'd never go back to your old job and house.

-every morning you get to cycle to work from your cosy, little house, taking in the sights and the locals. before you begin your shift, mainly serving workers and tourists on holiday.

-one day you're behind the bar, sorting out glasses whilst there's a lull in customers, the ceiling fans whirring gently overhead.

-you don't hear a small group of people come in, until they're stood at the bar chatting amongst themselves. you serve them with a smile, always genuine, and make sure to give their order through to the kitchen.

-you're not sure if they're tourists or not, a mix of accents coming through when they speak, but you recognise one as British.

-a male, tall and seemingly very sweet. his brown hair is wavy and flops down over his forehead, until he pushes it off his face by placing his sunglasses on his head.

-he gives you a friendly smile as he and his friends move to a table, and you can't help but follow him with your eyes as he walks away.

-you continue your work, the shift going at its normal pace, a couple of regulars dropping in and a family of obvious tourists. you've gotten a knack now of being able to pick them out. around half an hour later, there's a little sound of someone clearing their throat, although not in an impatient way.

-when you look over your shoulder, you see the British guy from earlier stood at the bar, his fingers drumming on the wooden surface as if he were nervous.

"hello! do you need something?" you ask him politely, walking over from the other side of the bar to stand in front of him. he's a good head higher than you, but you're stood far enough away that you can look up at him without having to crane your neck.

-he scratches his chin, itching the dark beard he's sporting as he looks at the different lagers and ales you have on tap. as he makes his decision, you get a real look at his face for the first time. his eyes are kind, and a startling shade of ocean blue, with long feathery eyelashes. he has a prominent, thin nose and strong jawline too. not the kind of guy you're used to seeing around town.

-definitely a tourist, you think sadly to yourself. no chance of seeing him again after today.

-he makes his choice with a nervous laugh, mentioning how he doesn't really know what the alcohol is like over here. you promise him he will enjoy it, and that it's on good recommendation.

-when he asks who you mean, you hand him his drink and change, and with a cheeky smile, you say "me."

-this gets him to laugh, not nervous like before, but rather smoothly, as though he had finally relaxed. he returns back to his table of friends, and you don't miss the regretful little shake of his head when one of them asks him something.

-when they've finished their meals, the sun is beginning to set and outside you can see that everywhere is illuminated by its soft amber glow. they say goodbye to you as they exit, until only British guy is left. you really ought to stop calling him "British guy", you thought.

-he comes up to the bar to say goodbye, instead of as he walks out the door like his other friends did, and you find this to be quite endearing.

-"sorry, I just wanted to come and giving you something, for being a really nice waitress..." he begins, putting a money note on the bar top. you're not sure if he realises he just put a twenty down, and so you slide it back, refusing to accept such a big tip.

-he presses your hand down over the bill, his warm, soft hand covering yours and making your heart dance a little.

-"please--" he insists, gently turning your hand over and popping the money into your palm, closing your fingers around it with his other hand. "you're really lovely, and it was nice to be served by you." he rambles on, and you find your heart sinking a little as you realise that in a minute he's going to leave, and you'll never see him again.

-you give in and accept his money, thanking him endlessly for being so generous and gentlemanly. he simply waves it off and pops his sunglasses back on, heading towards the door.

-"wait--" you call after him, watching him pause and turn back to look at you. "I would like to know your name, since you've been so nice to me it would be quite rude of me to keep referring to you as British guy."

-it was a lame excuse, but you hoped he wouldn't look into it too much, as you really did want to know his name.

-his raised eyebrows relax as he gives you a full, almost flirtatious, grin. "I'm Gwil." he tells you, before leaving with a little wave.

-Gwil.

-you fall asleep later that night with his name on your mind and his image seared onto your eyelids.

-the next day at work seems to drag on, as you serve the same family from yesterday who have no doubt made the restaurant/bar their "local" for the holiday.

-it gets to about late afternoon and you're getting ready to finish your shift, happy that it's finally the weekend.

-you plan to visit the beach after work, having brought a little bag of clothes to change into.

-just as you're about to clock off, in walks a familiar group of people, and your heart soars as you spot a tall brunette amongst them.

-Gwilym walks straight up to you behind the bar and gives you a friendly wave. however you can't go over to serve him as your co-worker who just clocked in steps behind the bar.

-he catches you as you come out, stopping you from going into the back where your stuff is.

-"hi! did I just catch you finishing your shift?" Gwilym asks, a little worried as he hopes he isn't annoying you by stopping you from getting to leave.

-you nod, "yes I just got off, I'm about to head to the beach, catch some rays." you inform him, not wanting to sound as though you were trying to invite him along, although you definitely were.

-he looks over to his friends that are ordering drinks. "why don't you join us? we were thinking of going for a drink and then the beach until it gets dark."

-you don't want to seem too pleased, but also not hesitant, and so you nibble on your lip as you question whether or not it would be a good idea.

-Gwil senses your pause and shakes his head. "of course if you don't want to that's completely fine, I get it that you had your own plans."

-"I'd love to join you, Gwil. just let me get changed out of my uniform?" you point to the door and he nods, his face lighting up considerably at you accepting his offer.

-you leave him to go tell his friends about you tagging along and hope they won't mind. you change into your swimwear and then throw some cut off denim shorts and a plain tank top over the top.

-had you of known, you would have tried to touch up your makeup a little, but all you could do was redo your hair and freshen up with some perfume.

-you find them sat at the same table as yesterday and join them with a shy wave to the people you don't know.

-Gwil scoots over to let you sit beside him and then proceeds to introduce you to everyone. you tell them your name, to which Gwil realises he never even asked for it, silently grimacing over his bad manners.

-"you've only known her for a grand total of two days, and already you look like an idiot, good job Gwil."

- you listen to the conversation, learning that they're actors, and are currently filming over here. intrigued, you ask them about the film, learning the name and characters.

-Gwil seems to be playing a sweet, funny, if not a little clueless, fiancé to one of the women of the group. you catch him already looking at you when you turn to ask him something, and so you poke your tongue out at him playfully.

-he returns it with a funny face of his own.

-after the group have sunk a few drinks, you all head out for the beach, only a short walk away from the restaurant.

-the sun is lower, so you don't have to worry about the strong rays burning you, meaning you can take of your shorts and vest and sit on the sand.

-they've all brought towels and sun cream, factor 50 no doubt. you've naturally tanned over the past two years; your skin have a gorgeous golden glow to it.

-Gwil sits himself down beside you, having removed his shirt and flip flops. he's not overly buff, and is all soft tummy and curves, which you find adorable and more your kind of type. despite that, he still has broad shoulders and as he leans back on his elbows, you can see the muscles in his back and abs tense up.

-you sit and bask in the sun, talking to Gwil about anything that comes to mind, whilst you bury your feet further into the warm sand.

-you learn about where he was born, his family full of doctors and professionals, and his friends back home. no mention of a girlfriend you notice, and it does nothing to calm your slight nerves.

-"no girlfriend? fiancée?" you ask him, turning over and lying on your front, now facing further up the beach as you speak to Gwilym.

-having tried to not stare the entire time you've sat beside him in just your swimwear, Gwil finds it very hard not to glance at your cute ass, which is lightly dusted with sand. thank God for sunglasses, or else he would be screwed.

-"n-no." Gwil stammers, a little nervously. it doesn't go unnoticed by you, and you scoot a little closer to him.

-"ah, well that's a shame. you're quite a catch." you tell him, nibbling your lip as he turns onto his side to face you, leaning on one shoulder.

-"am I really?" he hums, pushing his sunglasses up onto the top of his head. you mirror him, propping yourself up on one arm as you face him with a coy smile.

-"very much so." you reply, very aware of the fact that his eyes keep flicking between your face and other aspects of your body.

-"would you--uh, like to go out sometime?" Gwil asks you, his tone uncertain but hopeful. you nibble on your lower lip as you tide over his question, excitement bubbling in your stomach at the prospect of Gwil being interested in you.

-they're currently in the middle of filming, according to one of Gwil's co-stars, and so they'll be sticking around for a few more months. one date wouldn't be such a heart-crushing thing, surely?

-"of course." you respond, watching as a relieved smile graces his face.

-"g-great! pick you up tomorrow? how's seven sound?"

-you couldn't help but find his nervous stammering adorable, and reach out to place a hand on his bicep, the muscle tensing under your touch.

-"seven will be great, Gwil."

#gwilym imagine #gwil #gwilym lee #gwilym x reader #gwilym!brian #gwil lee #gwilym #top end wedding #tew #imagine #drabble #writing #writers #writeblr #blurb

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morphituu · 5 years

Text

Bell Peppers Ch. 10

“Stay”

Archive of Our Own: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11

tumblr: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11

The silence was at first welcome.

The lack of voices asking to recite his name, telling him where they would poke and stitch next.

The soft hissing of the IV pump where he could feel the lead of a catheter taped in the back of his hand, the soft beeping of the pressure cuff around his arm.

He started to recognize where all the pain was coming from. His bandaged hand was sore, but the throbbing in his skull challenged the misery of his knee he felt propped up on pillows, the chill of an ice pack beneath.

The shades were drawn, and he was thankful when he started to open his eyes-

Fuck, the brow above his left eye stung something fierce. When his hand rose to touch the stitches there and on his cheek, a small pump fell from his grasp.

The resonating throb in his ribs was great when he’d take in the sterile smells surrounding, as was the sensitivity in his stomach that couldn’t tighten without great agony.

The insides of his cheeks were raw.

There was no spot on him without pain he could concentrate on without another part demanding his attention.

Everything was hurt, and weak, yet he could recall everything.

That first time jolting awake, and the intimidating bustling of faces and hands around him, and lights flashing in his eyes as they triaged him. That’s what felt like forever- the waiting to be put under, or given something to feel less misery. He remembered barely being able to talk, and slurring for relief, sometimes grasping weakly at hands that touched something tender.

Fuck, he’d even cried, and begged to be left alone. All of which was probably completely indiscernible to the people helping him.

It wasn’t until after he was gowned and stabilized that they gave him something that heavied his eyes instantly, and let him float between consciousness and peace as he laid in the whirring machine of the MRI. Between then and when he got a room, it was quiet. Maybe the occasional of other nurses and doctors chatting through the hallways when he was wheeled around, but nothing louder than a sobbing prayer he’d heard someone reciting.

Quiet, and calm, even when nurses came in to check on him.

But he always took a few moments to acclimate, and remember, that he was viciously attacked in front of his own home, left alone all night. Recalling his attempts at calling out to anyone, but choking on spit and blood, and shivering in the cold.

He stopped moving his legs between the cool sheets; even that was too much.

Orcs don’t belong with humans.

Callie.

He struggled to look around for anything of his, but saw nothing behind the blurred sight of his one eye. Everything protested when he attempted sitting up. He stifled loud cries as pain spasmed through his form.

Callie. Please let her be okay.

He licked his dry lips, feeling the gash across the top, and closed his eyes to hide from the images that flashed before them.

With his head rested back on the pillows more comfortably, he pressed the button of the pump in his fist, the pain lessening ever so slightly.

↠

She held the heel of her palms against her temples, the onslaught of images brandishing her mind. Her cheeks were misty from tears, listening to Ward explain what they thought had happened, and how he’d found Nick that morning. That when he’d last seen him being taken away, he was still unresponsive.

How-

Why-

What if he’s…

She hid her face, her eyes pinching shut. No. You can’t think that way. Stop it.

“He was there all night?” she choked, wiping her face inattentively.

“We think. Blood on 'n around him was dried and some of the cuts on him were scabbing,” Ward answered, turning onto the winding lane that lead to the hospital.

“Oh my god,” she whimpered.

The cruiser silenced as it pulled before the entrance.

“This is his,” Ward spoke, handing her Nick’s phone and keys. She fought the tremble in her chin and lip as she looked at the blood on the screen, and the messy smears over the print reader.

He’d tried to call for help.

“Call and tell me if he’s okay,” Ward also said. The worried furrow of his brow gave away his fear, even if his voice was certain and steady. She nodded, wiping her eyes again before exiting the cruiser.

Her knees betrayed her sure footing, but she was infinitely horrified to walk in and be told he’d passed. It took her too long to find the front desk which was right in the middle of the vast room, but it was because she was looking for him right away.

The last thing I said to him was leave.

She banged her knee against the front desk once there, her hands unsure of where to rest.

“I’m looking for Jakoby? Nick- Officer Nick Jakoby,” she stammered, clearing her throat, pushing her hair from her clammy cheeks.

The receptionist scanned her computer, squinting. Callie’s leg started bouncing, watching the younger woman with wide eyes.

“Jakoby?” the woman asked.

“Nick Jakoby,”

“Hmm, when was he admitted?”

“This morning I don’t know what time,” Callie rushed, starting to tremble.

I told him to get the fuck out.

She still squinted at the screen. It took all her control to not spin the monitor and look herself.

I should’ve called him, I should’ve just fucking called him.

“J- A- C?”

You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me-

“J- A- K,” Callie barked. Any tighter, and her hands could’ve snapped Nick’s phone in her grasp.

“Ahh, there he is,” the woman smiled, and Callie exhaled, a few shades lighter and sweat lining her brow. “He’s in the neuro wing under observation. Fourth floor, room 407, and you need to sign in for a visitor sticker.” the woman explained, handing Callie the clipboard as they exchanged for her ID.

Her handwriting was worse than usual; her hands shook uncontrollably.

Every floor higher became quieter in the elevator. She stayed at the back, watching people file in and out until she made it to the fourth floor, checking her sides for room numbers before walking down the marble floor.

She wasn’t ready to see how he looked.

‘Half his face was cut up and open, ‘nd there was other spots all over him.’

It was too silent, and on almost all of the doors she passed, there were signs reminding visitors to remain quiet for patients in healing.

His room was just around the curve of a hallway. Why couldn’t she pull her eyes from the tag spelling his name beside the door?

She had to turn away, moving her hair back from her face and steadying her hiccuping breaths. Her legs did not feel like her own in their unsteady gait, and even though her entire body felt a wrong turn away from fainting, she turned back, and opened the door.

Nick expected another nurse, so he kept his eyes closed, figuring if he could pretend to be asleep they’d leave him be.

But then, familiarity bloomed around him. Warm, spiced vanilla that made his nostrils flare and skin erupt with shivers.

That’s my mate.

He would know this in a room full of people that were her exact copy.

Even with… that haircut he could finally see once the film had been blinked from his vision, he’d know that was her. Eyes wide and glossy, supple mouth agape in horror, and knuckles white from gripping her purse tightly in front of herself.

It was a powerful, complex swarm of emotions and thoughts, and memories. But even when his heart reaffirmed that she had left him, all he could think was, there’s my girl.

“Daryl- Daryl came to get me he told me what happened,” she took a deep breath, “I’m sorry, I can leave if you want,” she hiccupped, a palm over her mouth.

It wasn’t as bad as she’d envisioned, but it was also worse than she expected.

“I-” he tried, but his throat and tongue scraped like sandpaper. He coughed viciously, curling inwards around the agony of his protesting body every time he jerked forward.

Callie was at his side, inclining his bed and pouring him water when he finally calmed.

His hand overlapped hers when he held the cup, both of their hands trembling.

“I was worried about you,” he managed, his voice courser than normal. Her face scrunched.

“What?” She sat beside him. The closer she came, the more she saw. Gouges, stitches, bruises.

“The people that attacked me, the things they said- I thought they’d go after you but I’m glad they didn’t,” he said slowly, swallowing often. She gave him more water, looking at him silently. “Y’know,” he winced when he adjusted his back against the bed. “I thought it was your cousins at first,” he teased, the smallest grin tugging the corner of his mouth. Callie shook her head, a sad smile spreading across her face.

The cold sheets didn’t bother him so much suddenly. Her small, warm palms that could never cover his wide hands were such a soothing sensation as she caressed, stilling his fingers that plucked at the bedding.

“What happened, Nick?”

That question clearly tormented her as severely as him, but he could only shake his head. “Someone got tired of me,” he rasped.

Her face scrunched in torment, and his heart was breaking all over again.

Why like this?

“Your hair is gone,” he cleared his throat, wanting to talk about anything else.

When she scoffed, he grinned, sorely, the cuts on his lips stinging.

“I hate it,” she sniffled, looking down at his hand she was running her thumbs over.

Nick blew air, and she looked back at him. “You look really pretty,”

They both searched one another's eyes, desperate for something to make sense of this situation. There they were, before each other again, profoundly changed, yet he still could recognize the deep compassion in those balmy eyes. The memory he’d fought to forget, but the one that would loop in his mind endlessly was her crying, screaming for him to leave. Yet here she was, again, always.

“What can I do?” she asked softly.

“Stay with me a little while?” he tried to sound leveled, but the underlying desperation in his voice was obvious. Please don’t leave me alone.

She nodded, kissing his knuckles, pressing the back of his hand against her cheek. “Always, amore. Always.”

Dread left him in the wake of her words. Until then, he hadn’t been aware to the fear that settled around him like a fog, lying in wait for his attackers to finish what they'd started.

But his girl; the woman who in all senses was no longer his, but he could still pick up the slightest traces of himself on from just that arm's length, was calming his fluttering heart. With Callie here, she was the hand he wanted to hold in safety, and comfort. A sleepy contentedness pulled over him like the warm wash of a shower on a cold day, and his eyes started to heavy.

She didn’t jostle him when he started to drift off. Glimpses over him made it easy to put together how uncomfortable he must’ve been. The swelling and bruises, and cuts on his face were one thing, but how did the rest of him look?

“Who did this to you, baby?” she whispered. She traced his arm, looking at the other hand that was splinted and wrapped, following down to his knee that was twice it’s normal size. Callie exhaled.

With another kiss on his hand, she stood to grab her bag.

Outside his room, she breathed. Deep ones that should’ve calmed her fearfulness, but it wouldn’t be so simple. She was left with more questions than answers, and realizations she didn’t think she’d ever be admitting to.

Nick had been right. It could always get worse, he’d told her so many times. Someone would eventually act on their hate, and they did.

Callie scoffed, finding Ward’s name in her phone. She’d never tell Nick that. She could just see that little smirk, and the way his brows would raise as he’d stare at her, waiting for an apology, even in his damaged state.

“Hello?” he picked up quickly, and she blinked out of her daze.

“Hey- hi, it’s me. He’s okay,”

Daryl contained the audible sigh of relief, but still held a hand over his heart, thankful this hadn’t been the call reporting his partners demise. Hidden behind his cruiser, he leaned a hand onto his knee, suddenly conscious to how clutched he’d been for Nick’s well being.

“He’s really banged up, but he’s talking and can kind of sit up,” she explained. “I don’t know how long he’s going to be here though, he fell back asleep before we could really get into details,”

“It’s gonna take time. He looked…” Ward swallowed. “It was fucked up. Who ever did that is fucked in the head,”

“Is there any leads, or… clues yet? I don’t know how this works outside of TV,” she asked.

“Haven’t heard back yet, but I’ll tell you what happens. I’m sure his stubborn ass is gonna wanna figure it out himself once he’s able,”

Callie scoffed, but then went to kneading her bottom lip. “Nick is strong, Daryl. It had to be more than one person,”

Ward sighed. “I know, which makes it trickier,”

She wiped fresh tears from her eyes, pulling the phone away from her cheek to sniffle and cough. “Keep me updated about it please and I’ll tell Nick to call when he can, yeah?” she asked.

“For sure. Take care of him.”

“I will.”

The call ended, but then there was the other matter to tend to. She’d left work abruptly, and ignored a called from her uncle on her way to the hospital. Rolling her head back and adjusting her shoulders didn’t help the edginess of her body when thinking of dealing with it.

She leaned away from the phone at first, waving it in her hands before only leaning her head towards it’s screen as it rang. To her dismay, he also answered quickly.

“Calista? Calista are you there- where did you go?”

“There was an emergency Tio-”

“With who? Your mother? Who was it?” She didn’t think he’d be sent into a blind panic by her abrupt departure.

“No, for a friend. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything but I had to go,”

Though it was silent, she could almost hear the pieces fitting together in his head. He hadn’t been oblivious to Callie’s demeanor in the passing weeks, and the sudden absence of her cop boyfriend who no longer stopped by.

“So you’ll be coming back later to finish your shift?” he asked, flatly.

She looked at her feet. “I need some time off,”

A pause, and she wished she would have texted instead. “I can give you the rest of the day,”

Callie sighed, closing her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I need more than that. He’s in really bad shape,”

“Let his family do it. I don’t have the money for a paid vacation,”

“This is nothing close to a vacation,”

“Either way, I can’t do it,” he replied. She only had fleeting seconds to make this decision, but where her mind landed was still uncertain.

“Than I guess today was my last day,” she cleared her throat, her head rested back against the wall, staring angrily at a dull painting across the hall. Her uncle exhaled heavily.

“This is a mistake, Callie. Let someone else take care of him. You’re not his girlfriend anymore,”

That's irrelevant, but she knew if she said it, it wouldn’t make any difference. He’d hear it, but would believe what was already assumed. This was about being there for him, when the world finally managed to beat him into the ground.

“I’ll pick up my last paycheck later.” she finished with, fumbling to end the call when she heard him asking something else.

It had only been a little under an hour since the day plunged into hell. Now she was jobless. Even though she’d started the process of applying to other places a while ago, she didn’t want it left messy like this. Word would spread. Her family would find out, and they would eventually call.

It might’ve been silly to do so, but she silenced her phone until she knew she could answer their questions; that this wasn’t about being in love.

But if not, then what else?

Loyalty? Because they were friends? ‘Friends’ who hadn’t spoken in weeks, and stopped talking over a blistering fight-

Callie shook away the intrusive thoughts.

She had now what she was left with, and that’s where she would start.

↠

Did she get enough? Maybe too much? She had no idea how long he was going to be here, but knew- hoped his insatiable appetite would kick in eventually.

Callie looked down at the two bags of snacks she’d filled from the cafeteria, all of it things that he liked, but she wasn’t so sure about the few bottles of green tea Nakeds she’d chosen. With her eyes on the bottle, observing the finer print, she didn’t see the doctor at the foot of Nick’s bed until she was in the room.

“Oh,” she squeaked, looking at Nick who appeared to have just woken up. “Sorry- I’ll wait outside,”

“No, c’mere,” Nick grumbled groggily, motioning her over.

“Are you sure?” she asked lowly, placing the bags down before moving to his side.

“Afternoon,” the middle-aged woman said, grinning at Callie as she stood by Nick. “I was just formally introducing myself to Mr. Jakoby here. We didn’t really get a chance to meet when you first came in, but I was the Attending that triaged you this morning when you came in. I’m Margaret Voelker,”

“Were you the one that kept stabbing my hands with sharp stuff?” Nick croaked, and his doctor chuckled.

“Could’ve been in a coma, had to make sure,” she smiled. Nick ‘hmphed’, shifting his shoulders.

“Good that you’re up and talking already, and you passed the assessment with flying colors,”

“Yeah and now I have spots in my one good eye,”

Callie flicked his arm gently, scowling when he looked up at her.

“The vision in the other one should get better once the swelling has gone down, so tough. How’s your pain?” she asked, moving to flip over a page of his chart on the bedside table after she’d pulled her thick framed glasses from the breast pocket of her scrubs.

“Could be a 3 if you gave me something like morphine,” he mumbled. Callie’s brow furrowed; where was this temperamental side coming from?

Margaret waved her finger. “Uh-uh, Orcs burn it off too fast, that’s why there’s such an issue with addiction amongst them,” she said without skipping a beat, skimming the notes. “Since you’re a cop I figured you would’ve known that,” she added, eyeing him from over her glasses.

Nick chuffed, but winced. Too hard on the ribs.

“Calm down,” Callie whispered, rubbing his shoulder.

“It’s okay, it’s a symptom of the concussion he has. Keep those shades closed cause apparently he has a sensitivity to light he didn’t bother telling me when I looked at his pupils,”

“What should I look out for if it gets worse?” Callie asked.

“Well if he keeps his mouth shut about how he’s feeling I can’t really answer that, now can I?” Margaret sighed, crossing her arms after placing the papers down. Nick eyed her angrily, ready to sleep again. He didn’t want to be poked or questioned anymore.

“Nick,” Callie intoned, and he looked at her. The desperation- no, concern in her eyes evened him, and silenced the snappy comeback he almost lashed out. Even he didn’t understand the ire he felt.

“Nauseous and a stupid ringing in my ears,” he mumbled, still looking at Callie.

“Scale of 1 to 10?”

Nick looked back over to his doctor. “Like an 8,”

“We can give you something for that cause you gotta start eating. Mouth all chewed up?”

He nodded.

“Soft foods then. No junk. Now for the rest of you- what hurts the most?”

“This and the knee,” he pointed to his swollen eye socket before his leg, and tensed when Margaret pumped the wall dispenser of hand sanitizer into her palms and slipped on gloves to examine him.

“X-rays didn’t show any breaks, but your kneecap did get shoved around a lot, aggravated the connective tissue,” she explained, bending his leg despite his loud protests and sharp snarls. Callie grabbed his hand, her jaw dropping and her face scrunching when he squeezed it with wraithlike power.

He was panting when she stuck the ice under his knee again, propping it higher than before.

“I’m not gonna look at that cause I already know it’s a hairline fracture,” she said, pointing to his eye. Callie followed her finger, to the swollen, stitched skin across his brow. There was also the two gashes under his eye and top lip, but they must’ve just been superficial, despite looking like he’d been downright stabbed.

“That bad?” Nick mumbled, and she nodded, massaging her sore hand.

“What about his hand?” Callie asked.

“Do I have permission to speak to her about your treatment?” Margaret asked, and Nick nodded.

“Okay. His middle and ring fingers were dislocated and snapped backwards, so it’ll be a few weeks before that comes off, but depending on how much damage there is, it could take up to six months for normal functionality to return,”

“Good thing it’s your left hand,” Callie commented.

“Other than that, you have some bad bruising on your ribs I need to look at and a whole lot of stitches everywhere you can’t get wet, so no showers. Let’s get you up,” she told him, shifting the bed rails down.

“First no morphine now I can’t even take a shower?” he grumbled.

“Not even with Aqua Guards?” Callie asked, grabbing behind his elbow as he did hers to help him sit up slowly.

“Those things are completely untrustworthy- arm up,” Margaret answered, adjusting her glasses before leaning down to observe the deep purple and green of the bruising all over his ribs and stomach after moving his gown aside. Square bandaging covered the various spots he had stitches. Just how hard did someone have to be bludgeoned to cut skin through clothes?

Callie watched in masked horror, wondering if it spread across his back as well, but didn’t move from holding his arm above his head, even when his breathing became labored. His solid chest and stomach trembled, and clenched, low whimpers slipping past his lips.

“Almost done,”

He flinched every time she poked, and sweat started to line his forehead. When Nick started to lean away from her evaluation, Callie held him around the shoulders, using her front to block him. What she would do to allow herself to lean down and hold him when he hid his face against her, letting louder whines to come forth.

“Are you hungry?” she hoped to distract him, rubbing his back. He nodded, slowly.

“I found some greek yogurt downstairs, and those dried mango pieces you like,”

Nick looked at her weakly when he could finally drop his arm and lean back again, and wiggled into his bed as they helped prop him up.

“Yogurt with m&m’s?” he asked, and Callie nodded. “What kind?”

“The mini ones,” she grinned. He held her fingers loosely, just a second before running his hand down his face.

“So, overall you’re looking…” Margaret weighed her hands. “Decent. Orcs can withstand a hellova lot more, but you still took quite the beating, my friend. You’ll need to stay a day or two longer depending on how your concussion settles and the blood in your gut does, but I’d say about a 6 week time frame is what you’re looking at before you start feeling up to work again,” Margaret explained, scratching her tight, dark curls that were tied into a messy bun atop her head.

“Can I get that in writing for work?” Nick asked, and she nodded. “Better pain meds?”

She inhaled, thinking it over. “We can try dilaudid, but the minute you start asking for double doses you’re out of here,” she explained. He nodded, finally compliant if it meant a moment without discomfort.

“Now, I’m gonna have someone come by later and talk to you about in-home nurses, cause you’re not gonna be able to walk around on that knee or move too much with your ribs like that,” she told him, writing it down on the little notepad she pulled out of her thigh pocket.

“Can I respectfully decline that?” he asked, absolutely disliking of the idea of a stranger following him around at home.

“Unless you have family you can stay with while you recover?”

Callie bit her inner lip. This could end badly.

“He has me,” she declared, and Nick looked at her, his brows furrowing.

Margaret looked at her. “He at least needs three of those weeks covered,”

“I can do it. I know how to handle his stubborn mood swings,” she grinned, earning a flat look from Nick, but Callie shrugged. “It’s either me or a nurse,”

He exhaled, nodding.

“Yeah I’d say you have that under control. Alright, I’ll be checking in now and again to see how you’re doing. Don’t try and wander around. Harass the nurses if you need. Nice meeting you, Officer.” Margaret grinned, patting his shoulder before waving to Callie as she left.

“Callie,” he said, waiting until he heard the door latch. She was pulling his blankets back up, then moving to pull his food from the bags.

“Callie,” he said again, but she looked at him now, her short waves framing her calm expression. “You don’t have to do this,”

When she lifted his arm and rested in her lap so she could sit on the mattress beside him, he instinctively stroked her thigh with his thumb, but caught himself, and stopped.

“Do you want me to leave?”

He shook his head.

“Then I’m gonna take care of you. I know we… we’re split, but that doesn’t matter. You need help, and I really do know how to handle you when you’re being stubborn,” she told him. Everything about the way she looked was decisive. There was no room for argument, but he didn’t want to say anything, really. Hearing her say ‘split’... still hurt. Too much right now.

“Plus, what were you going to eat if you can’t get up and move around by yourself?”

“I’d crawl to my backyard and eat the bell peppers and onions,”

She snorted, finally smiling as he did. “Yogurt?” she asked.

“Yogurt.”

She prepared the little cup and spoon for him, but told him she refused to feed him if he even thought about asking, and remembered to dump a handful of mini m&m’s into it. He chewed slowly, more of squishing it again the roof of his mouth with his tongue than anything as he watched her move around, organizing the snacks on the bedside table.

“What about work?” he asked.

“I can get some time off- that gonna fill you up or you want another one?” she asked, and he nodded.

“You only have to take like a week, I don’t need three-” but she stopped him, shoving the next yogurt cup in his face as he’d finished the first one already.

“Four weeks and I’ll leave you alone,”

He frowned. “I don’t- you can stay, don’t… nevermind,” he mumbled, staring at the yogurt.

“That’s not what I meant. I thought cause like…” she faltered, her eyes fluttering around before landing on her hands that folded before her. “You didn’t call,” she sighed, and he looked up at her.

“Neither did you,”

They both looked away, worried about where that conversation would lead. It was abrupt to bring forth such a discussion, and neither of them were ready in any sense to pick it apart.

“Six weeks?” he asked then. Callie held back a wide smile, and nodded, dumping more m&m’s into his cup.

“Six weeks.” she affirmed, and caught the little smirk he gave her before she turned away.

“You’ve been okay?” he asked. “I mean how you’ve been,” he corrected.

“Um…” she exhaled before sitting beside him again, thinking.

“You’ve made decisions,” he toyed, flicking his finger between the ends of her hair.

“Bad decision,” she smoothed her hands down her head. “Just working, though,” I’ve been sad again. Do you wanna hear how I don’t sleep in my bed anymore? “You?”

He shrugged, stirring the yogurt that would be done in another bite. “Working,” he mumbled. That’s all I do now.

They both looked elsewhere, unknowing of where to turn next in that conversation.

“Daryl wants you to call him when you’re up to it,” she remembered.

“I have no idea where my phone is,”

She rose to grab it from her purse, but hesitated. Still bloodied and in the bag with his keys. When she handed it over, Nick wavered, slowly turning it in his hands and observing. He looked like a child that had been yelled at for something he’d never done, like his eyes had finally been opened, revealing the world wasn’t as dreamy as he once thought.

He remembered trying to call, sometimes screaming for help. He remembered clawing at the ground, looking up at the night sky as the cold seeped in and his blood leaked out.

“Why do people hate me so much?”

Defeat.

She never thought it would come to this, but here they were. Callie felt for him. Hopelessness gripped her heart at the sight of him so crushed; this time, where was the silver lining he usually used to bounce back in the face of hardship?

Like he looked away and wiped his eyes to hide his anguish, she finally let herself wrap her arms around him, carefully embracing his injured form that shook with silent cries to hide her own tears she couldn’t repress.

↠

“Your phone is going off again,” Nick told her, his arm draped over his head and an ice-pack upon his sore ribs. He’d watched her phone light up and vibrate loudly on the bedside table at least 3 times in last hour.

She finished pulling the blankets up his legs before walking to her phone, chewing her inner lips.

Rosie this time. She hadn’t dared answer when Patricia called; that woman knew not how to deliver advice in any kind way, even if Callie usually appreciated her bluntness. She was sure those calls weren’t to offer any sage, older sister advice, though. It would've been to tell her how foolish she was for quitting her job, taking care of the ex-boyfriend, yada yada yada.

No one said shit when you stayed with Luis after he cheated on you 3 times…

“I’ll be right back,” Callie mumbled, finally greeting Rosie as she walked from the room.

Nick watched the TV, already starting to feel uncomfortable on his side, but the ice on his ribs was a welcome numbness. They’d only given him a small starting dose of effective pain meds, and since he’d agreed to not ask for more before the allowed time, he had to deal with ice and heating pads, and flipping side to side in bed.

But something else scratched at his calm exterior.

He wanted to shower. He was covered in dried betadine and blood that he had picked at the remainder of the day, not to mention the bedding he’d been laying in since the AM hours. A giant scab is the closest thing he could compare to how he felt when he asked Callie to guard the door so he could shower.

She only looked at him flatly, waiting out his puppy dog eyes until he sighed and looked away.

Now he was contemplating.

Even if he could wipe himself down, maybe rinse off his arms… stick himself under the shower head real quick.

He exhaled, glancing at the door. Callie was still out there, but he’d heard the door latch.

There was no need to set the ice pack down so quietly, nor was there any need to move the blankets aside so slowly, but everything seemed louder, even his legs sliding across the sheets.

He tensed, stifling a groan when he tightened his ribs. Although his body protested, urging him to lie back down, he kept his eyes trained to the door, biting his tongue every time something across his body rang with pain.

He allowed himself to breathe when he was up, his head hung down. Running a steep incline would've been a walk in the park compared to this.

Nick tested his knee, slowly swinging his foot in tight thrusts. It wasn’t pleasant, but it didn’t seem unbearable, either.

Another look at the door, and he gripped the edge of the bed, staring determinedly at the floor.

“Okay listen I get the taking care of him but Cal why did you have to quit your job?” Rosie implored.

With the phone held away from her ear, she could still hear her, and knew that their mom or Patricia must’ve also been there after ignoring them all day.

“Even if I hadn’t’ve quit I wouldn’t’ve been paid anything missing all that work. I would've been fired eventually,” she repeated, maybe for the tenth time.

“You could have worked around the weeks-”

“Tio Gordo would not have paid me,”

“You don’t know that,”

“I do. I’ve asked for overtime before and he said no. He only pays what keeps him out of trouble,” Callie argued flatly. This conversation was running circles, and the pounding of a hunger headache was starting to grow in severity.

“You could’ve asked mom to talk to him,”

She scoffed, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her palms. “Rose-”

“Callie!”

She spun against the wall, shoving through the door to Nick’s room.

“Oh my god!” she exclaimed, her phone call forgotten as she kneeled by his form sprawled across the ground, unsure of how to help first.

“Did you roll out of bed?” she asked, putting his hands on her shoulders and squatting over him to leverage him into a sitting position. He whimpered, trembling as he did his best to curl himself forwards. It wasn’t until he was sat against the bed did she notice the blood on her arm that was trickling from the back of his hand.

She looked up- his IV had been ripped out.

“Oh baby,” she breathed, bolting to grab the towels in the bathroom.

If his pain was a 10 before, it was a 13 now. He’d flopped right onto his bad side after the slightest amount of his own weight leaned on his knee.

“Okay here we go,” she said, wrapping a smaller towel around his hand. “Hold that,” she instructed, using another to wipe his face of sweat and blood. The stitch above his eye had popped, also.

“Did you hit your head?”

He nodded. “I need to call the nurses,” she told him, starting to stand.

“Wait,” he grabbed her arm, and she watched as he pulled his gown aside.

Blood was pooling beneath the patch tapped just under his peck.

Callie exhaled, looking back to his tired eyes.

↠

“One more, pumpkin,” Margaret mumbled.

Nick’s face scrunched, his hand tightening around Callie’s when the needle poked slowly into the gash over his ribs. Callie hushed him gently when he growled, her forehead against his where she leaned from her seat beside him.

He could feel the skin tug when line was pulled through and tied, but the sharp pinch of the curved needle was undetected. Callie still stayed close, her hand now below his cheek where he’d rested his head.

She knew he was embarrassed, and wasn’t speaking because of it, but she’d never deny the comfort he clearly needed. Throughout the time it took to restitch him, she’d silenced his angered protests, pulling his face back to look at her when he lashed out. The extra dose of dilaudid helped when he became too resistant, too.

He looked up at her with those sleepy ambers when her finger scraped gently against his cheek, and lingered.

She giggled. “You look so high,”

He snorted, but she stilled him so he wouldn’t disrupt his doctor. “My eyes feel like heavy windows,” he mumbled, adjusting his face back over her splayed hand. “You’re so soft,”

So she pulled from his grasp to hold his other cheek, and his grin was dopey, aided by his swollen, lopsided brow.

“Have the nurses given him a fall risk band?” Margaret asked. Nick grumbled, burrowing his face downwards to hide.

“Only the little sad face page on the door,” Callie answered.

“Unfortunately we can’t put bells on patients who are supposed to stay in bed,” she paused to clip the last stitch. “But I implore you to stay put. You’re lucky your ribs didn’t snap and stab a lung,”

“Are you listening?” Callie asked. Nick nodded, his eyes barely open. “Can he take sponge baths?”

“I recommend not? Water can still get under these bandages,”

“But it’s not strictly forbidden?” Callie asked, raising her brows when Margaret looked at her.

“No, it’s not,”

“We’ll tackle that in the morning then,” Callie told him, but it looked like he’d already fallen asleep again with his arm over his head and half his body exposed with clean stitches.

“When I hear back on when he’ll be getting that repeat MRI I’ll have someone tell you,” his doctor told her, carefully taping another gauze patch over the wound before starting to pull her gloves off and clean the tableside tray. Callie nodded, her head lolling sideways on the pillow beside his, looking at Nick.

“How much longer will the temper keep up for?” she asked, her thumb stroking his chin that puckered under her touch.

Margaret shrugged. “Probably when his head stops hurting. It’s easy to understand why he’s so irritable,”

It made perfect sense, but it still unsettled her. It was like the blows he took to the head had altered his very personality. All day he’d been resistant, and snappy, even when she’d done her best to assist him.

“Is it unlike him?”

“Extremely,” Callie sighed, slowly sliding her hand from under his cheek.

Nick stirred, his eyes dragging open.

“I’m sorry, go back to sleep,” she cooed, but he shook his head, which was actually more of a wiggle.

“Hungry,” he grumbled.

“Of course you are,”

“Okay, don’t try to stand up again because I will sedate you and tie you down if I have to,” Margaret pointed, her brows perked up as she glared at him suspiciously. Nick nodded curtly, but chuffed lowly when she turned her back.

Nick returned Callie’s sideways glare when the door was closed, but with foggy eyes. Her determination to win this stare off was hindered as she struggled to open the bag of dried mango pieces.

“Gimme,” he reached, but she snorted.

“You can’t do anything with that club hand,” she retorted. Now he chuffed at her, but she only snickered.

With the bag at last opened, and chewing sleepily on them with a handful cupped against his chest, she moved about the room, flipping the lights off so it was only the IV pump illuminating them and street lights poking through the curtains.

Nick hummed as he chewed, caught somewhere between consciousness and a strange state of mind that he’d never experienced before. College was the last time he’d been high, but it had worn off so quickly that he could barely enjoy any part of it. The differences in salvia and dilaudid were night and day, however.

He could recall the curtains around him melting, and the color storm swarming his vision. That was the last time he touched it, and associated with the ‘friends’ that laughed when he panicked.

But this was… this was nice, he had to admit.

He was pinching his gown in search of another piece when Callie finally settled beside him in a chair, spreading her own blanket over her legs that she propped up on the mattress beside his.

“Where’d you find scrubs?” Nick asked, at last noticing she was no longer in the clothes she had worn earlier.

“I know a couple people here,” she exhaled, leaning back and scrolling through her phone.

He toyed with a piece of mango between his lips. “Did you find them in a closet?”

Her smile was guilty, but made him grin in return. By the time he finished his mangos, she had set her phone down and pulled the blanket over her shoulders, wiggling her head against the backrest of the chair.

They looked at one another, the slightest of light silhouetting his lax form that was still only half clothed, but his sharp eyes could see her clearly, or as much as he could in his drowsy state.

“S’quiet,” he whispered.

“Music?” she whispered back, and he nodded.

She named off bands from her phone that he continued to grunt in disapproval to, but she was coming to the end of her library of choices.

“Choose or I’m gonna play Billie,” she said. He looked so deep in thought that she knew what he was about to say when he opened his mouth, his eyes barely open.

“No Cannibal Corpse,” she interrupted.

His face scrunched, his jaw shifting outwards. “What’d’you have against them?”

“I like thrash, not death metal,”

“But they’re-”

“Not romantic,” she interrupted again, locking sleepy gazes with him.

“You’re mean,” he mumbled, settling deeper into his bed. She snorted softly, finally choosing a song and resting the phone flat against her chest as she slipped further down her seat.

Nick’s good brow furrowed. “Is’this tha’ teenager?”

“Mhm,” Callie hummed, her eyes closed as the gentle harmony accompanied by the soft strumming of guitar floated across the room.

“Creepy song,” he grumbled.

“And let me crawl inside your veins,” she drawled softly, smiling after she’d cracked an eye open to find him staring intensely at her.

“Stop,”

“I’ll build a wall, give you a ball and chain,” she continued, but he flapped his hand around, only managing to keep one eye open as she sang. “I put it on repeat,” Callie smiled, patting his hand away when he reached farther to mess with her.

He yawned when she did, unbearably sleepy, yet unable to stop looking at her as she barely mouthed the words, the one eye she had open fallen shut. Her lips slowed, her grin dissolving as the last of her awareness faded by the time the song had completed again.

Her chest rose and fell with deep breaths, alerting him she’d fallen under. There was also the way her left brow always rose when she was passed out, and always made him grin. Neverending attitude, even when she was unconscious.

Nick couldn’t reach the soft ends of her shorter hair around her cheeks, and exhaled with his arm hung off the bed after giving up.

But he could reach her lithe fingertips, hung off her thigh.

Carefully he stroked beneath them with his blunt fingers, secretly desperate to feel them scrape against his skin again, or caress his palms when she’d hold his hands and smile, speaking to him about anything and everything.

Slowly, he laced his fingers just to his middle knuckles with hers, forever amazed by the difference in size of their hands.

He brought his hand back to his own chest before the song would start again, but continued to gaze at her, detailing the curve of her cheeks, the fullness of her lips- how her honey-golden skin still glowed with warmth in the dark. He wanted to see those big eyes smile at him, without reservation, or in pity.

Nick swallowed.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” he whispered. “I wanted to call. I should’ve brought you home.”

But this feels right so stay a sec Yeah, this feels right so stay a sec

for anyone who's wondering, the song is Hostage by Billie Eilish yes callie is a metal head, BUT EVERYONE LIKES AT LEAST ONE SONG FROM BILLIE

our babies still have a long road ahead of them, so stay patient, my lovely readers, and as always, thanks for spending time with my story today! 🖤😊

26 notes · View notes

spnjediavenger · 5 years

Text

Chapter 6: Mind Games

Disclaimers: I do not own Supernatural, any of its characters, or Jenny

Time frame: Episode 5.21

Spoilers: Season 5 spoilers

POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNING: mention/implied sexual assault, low-key panic attack

Notes: Please leave a comment and let me know what you think! And much love to those who have liked and/or reposted!!! <3

Thanks to @sarimaposthumous for co-writing again!

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, mini chapter 5.5

Chapter 6: Mind Games

Gabriel’s dead, Dean finally was set on not being Michael’s vessel, Sam thought of saying ‘yes’ to Lucifer as his vessel in hopes of dragging him into the cage, and a bunch of people were catching the Croatoan virus.

How could things get worse, right?

Elliana and the boys were now in Nevada, following a possible lead on the horseman, Pestilence. Ellie had stayed back in the motel since she was too young to pass off as a CDC agent.

Laying on her back on one of the beds, Ellie simply stared at the ceiling in boredom. Anaya had been left at Bobby’s to give the dog a break from the road and also to give Bobby something other than his disability to focus on.

Soon enough, Elliana dozed off. Little did she know that a certain supernatural being was waiting outside the door for an opportune moment like this to sneak in and possess her, blocking her mind, snapping her fingers, and disappearing from the motel.

Elliana woke up to something forcing its way out of her mouth in a stream of black smoke. Once it was gone, she coughed and gasped air until she could breathe better.

“After all this time, you weren’t even hard to catch. It’s a bit disappointing, really,” a voice said from beside her, in an almost bored tone.

Ellie jerked her head up from her position on the floor to see a face she had hoped to never run into again.

“Damon,” she said, trying her hardest to keep her voice from shaking. The demon she had been running from for a year. The demon that possessed her brother. The demon that came back years later to possess her father and killed both her parents.

Ellie took a deep breath to steady herself and build up a tough façade. She looked around and found herself on a cement floor in a run down building. “What is it with you demons and crappy warehouses?” she snarked. “Can’t afford anything better?”

A chuckle from across the room caught the girl’s attention. Elliana looked across from where she sat to see a figure stepping out of the shadows.

“Yeah, sorry about the lack of hospitality,” he said sarcastically, gesturing around as he walked towards Elliana. When he reached her, he leaned down and put his hands on his knees, scrunching up his face. “Plus it fits the aesthetic,” he continued, smiling at Ellie as he stood up.

“Lucifer,” Ellie said a bit distastefully, though her heart dropped to her stomach. Again, she mustered up her courage to put on a stubborn front, not wanting to show any sign of fear or weakness (if she could help it).

“What do you want?” Ellie snapped.

“Now now,” Lucifer tisked. He leaned down again to grab a handful of Elliana’s hair to pick her up by. Her hands clawed at his own to try and relieve some of the pressure, to no avail. “Damon, here, wanted to just kill you. But I had him bring you here instead. So you should really be thanking me,” Lucifer said, nodding as he continued. “I thought we could chat a bit – get to know each other.”

“Didn’t daddy teach you not to play with your food?” Ellie spat, knowing full well he only wanted to mess with her before ultimately killing her; she was also getting a little fed up with the almost casual way he talked about things, feigning innocence.

Lucifer shoved her head away and stepped back. “What’s the fun in that?” he shrugged. “Besides, it’s not like anyone’s gonna come looking for you. Your little Winchester pals haven’t even blinked an eye at your disappearance,” Lucifer smirked as he crossed his arms. “You don’t mean a thing to anyone. Like Gabriel.”

Immediately, Ellie’s nostrils flared at the mention of Gabriel. “Don’t you dare-“

“He left you,” he continued, feigning sympathy. “Why else would he come rushing to die by my hands? I mean, how else was he gonna get away from you?” The look on his face at this point was a mix of savage and devilish (no pun intended), knowing he hit one weak point.

Elliana stayed silent, not wanting to give the devil any more leverage.

“I know the Winchesters are glad to be rid of you; you’re just a kid after all. A tag-along,” Lucifer added, shrugging again.

Ellie couldn’t help but consider the things he said, but she did all she could to push those thoughts away.

“The boys and I were in Nevada. We’re in Ohio. There’s no way they would even be close to this location after only a few hours; they wouldn’t even be back at the motel yet,” Ellie defended. At Damon’s confused look, she smirked a bit. “This state is my adoptive home – I know it like the back of my hand. And you,” she turned back to Lucifer. “You’re pathetic. Taking self-esteem jabs? You’ll stoop to any low just to get a reaction. And I know you’d never understand this but Gabe loved me; he was my guardian,” she continued, voice rough with emotion. “He did what he did to keep me safe. And you’re an asshole for killing your own brother. And you’re just lying about all this anyway.” Ellie was surprised by her own boldness.

Lucifer just smirked a bit. “Now, why would I lie to you, Ellie? I am an angel after all,” he said, raising his arms and circling her a bit. He stopped in front of her again, putting his finger on his chin, as if in thought; he knew Elliana would hate the silence. “But you know I’m right. Gabriel only watched over you out of pity; much like Sam and Dean,” he said thoughtfully, sidestepping the topic of Gabriel now. “You’re a burden to those guys,” he continued, putting his fake sympathy back in play, tilting his head down a bit. “But not to me. You know, Ellie – I could really use you.”

Ellie could easily detect that he was trying to gain her favor and sneered at him.

“You’re a fool if you think for even a second that I would be stupid enough to help you with anything. I would never agree to help you,” she said defiantly, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You sure about that? I can be very convincing, you know,” Lucifer countered, stepping up to Ellie. “You said Ohio was your ‘adoptive’ home,” he mused. “Let’s see what happened at your real home.”

Lucifer put his hand on top of Elliana’s head, grasping it.

Ellie blacked out for a second before a mixture of images and feelings flashed across her mind. Her parents laying dead on the ground; falling to her knees, scared, and awaiting her death; a flash of light and Gabriel –

Running fearfully from a demon; starving on the side of the road with no money left to afford a place to sleep; A moment of peace when she met Shane and Jenny-

Elliana could sense Lucifer’s annoyance when he kept coming across positive memories, though he had paused for a moment when Jenny appeared. He pushed further into her mind, going back before losing her parents.

Let’s go back to your real home again.

Ellie was flooded again with feelings of fear and rejection…being uncared for. The slight emotional abuse from her father, being told how disrespectful and ungrateful she was; her brother leaving home; and something else she didn’t recognize at first.

Ooooh, what’s this? Lucifer’s voice practically purred in her mind - and Ellie could hear the smirk in it. Let’s play with this a little.

Elliana woke up, feeling lightheaded; a dull pain on her neck.

“Finally up,” a male’s voice said, startling Ellie. “Here I thought you’d be happy to see me again. The last time I was around, we got pretty close.” The figure came around to stand in front of Ellie, kneeling down and resting his elbows on his knees. Elliana couldn’t help the fear that welled up in her chest.

This isn’t how this was supposed to work! She thought, panicking. She remembered noticing him when he came back; how he was a vampire. She called Dean asking how to kill them and she was ready once the weekend was over. But he got her alone and overpowered her.

“You’re too weak. You’re powerless. There’s nothing you can do to stop me,” he had smirked. He fed off her until she passed out.

The rest of that day was filled with feelings of fear, powerlessness, and struggling. Her body being overtaken by his. Whatever innocence she had left from Ellie’s last run in with him being stolen from her.

She had been empty the next two weeks; and the loss of her blood had made her mind weary. Her mind had repressed it for a year. As the scene unfolded in her mind, Ellie couldn’t stop the tears that ran down her cheeks.

Lucifer pulled away and Elliana collapsed onto the floor, shuffling back fearfully until her back was against the wall. She took quick shuttering breaths as she tried and failed to push the images and feelings from her mind; she was no longer attuned to Lucifer’s or Damon’s presence and Lucifer smiled at the newfound information.

“You’ve proven to be useful to me in more ways than you can imagine, Ellie,” he said excitedly; he took a few steps towards her, smirking when she tried to push herself further away. “If you harness all that pain and anger – imagine the damage you could do. Not to mention…you can help me get to Jenny.”

Elliana hadn’t been able to process most of his words because she was so emotionally compromised. But his mention of Jenny pulled her attention back a little bit.

“What do you want with Jenny?” she said, voice shaking.

“Jenny…I want her..and her network,” Lucifer said, nodding as his voice trailed off. He turned towards Damon for a moment – “You can leave now,” he said, snapping his fingers to make him vanish. “Now,” he turned to Ellie again and walked towards her. “You and I are gonna take a little trip.” He yanked Ellie up by the collar of her shirt before transporting them to the High Priestess. They stood outside for only a moment before Lucifer kicked the door in.

A few hunters jumped to their feet when he walked in, dragging Elliana behind him. Lucifer snapped his fingers again, making everyone freeze except Ellie and Jenny, who had come rushing into the main area of the bar.

Elliana was still in shock as the weight of everything crushed her chest. She fought, albeit weakly against Lucifer’s hold on her. At this point, she just wanted to lock herself in a room and try to forget everything. She frantically searched the bar until she saw Jenny. The last thing Ellie wanted was for her to be pulled into this situation but her tear-ridden eyes locked onto Jenny’s and she let out a whimpered ‘please’.

Jenny held her gaze, hearing her plea. Her eyebrows furrowed as her heart panged in her chest. Lucifer grabbed Ellie a little tighter, yanking her closer and making the girl’s eyes widen in fear and try to push away from him.

“Enough,” she said with a surprisingly bold tone; it elicited a smirk from Lucifer. Jenny wanted nothing more than to smack it off his face. She looked around and noticed that everyone was frozen in place. Her eyes fell on Elliana again then back to Lucifer. “Let. Her. Go,” she said through gritted teeth and stepped towards him. Jenny didn’t really have a plan, but hell if she would go down without fighting.

Lucifer’s smirk deepened and he threw Ellie to the floor. Ellie immediately crawled over to sit up against the bar, hugging her knees to her chest.

“What’s in it for me?” he said lowly as he stepped forward, his tall frame towering over Jenny; said girl did her best not to cringe away in fear. But looking over at Elliana emboldened her. The girl was like a little sister to her and she would do anything for her.

Jenny’s eyes met Lucifer’s. “I’ll do anything,” her voice quivered softly.

Lucifer grabbed her face, digging his fingers into her cheek, and brought his face close to hers. “You better not be lying to me,” he said in a warning tone. He stepped back and looked around before glancing at Elliana. “I’ll leave you to clean up this mess,” he said, scrunching his face up as he gestured to Ellie “But I’ll be back.” He snapped his fingers, but nothing happened. He rolled his eyes and looked slightly sheepish as he forgot the bar’s warding rendered him almost powerless. He walked out the door and vanished.

The bar practically erupted as the hunters stood up and looked around frantically for the devil as Jenny ran over and dropped down to Ellie.

“Ellie, what happened? Are you ok? What did he do to you?”

Elliana tried to say something but all that came out was a sob. She collapsed into Jenny and squeezed her eyes shut, not even bothering to try and stay strong.

Jenny gently pulled her up and walked her back into the office. She sat her down and called Bobby.

“Bobby, Ellie is here. I don’t know how she got here exactly or what happened to her. Lucifer just – yeah. The Lucifer showed up dragging her along. She’s in complete shock. Please just tell the Winchesters she’s safe until I figure out what’s wrong. I don’t need them showing up here. Thanks Bobby.”

Jenny hung up the phone and looked at Ellie before going to grab some water, placing it on the desk when she rejected it with a shake of her head, continuing to just stare at the floor. Jenny saw how she sat curled back into the chair as much as she could, arms wrapped tightly around her legs.

“Ellie, what happened?”

She sniffled and shook her head gently. “I…he just-“ another sob escaped her lips and she took another moment to compose herself enough to talk. “He- he was in my head…he looked through my memories an-and even things I didn’t remember…he pulled away and said I could help him. And he said I could help him get to you. The demon that killed my parents possessed me and brought me here to Lucifer…he wanted to kill me but-but Lucifer said he told him to bring me to him instead…I wish he would’ve just let him kill me.” Ellie was crying again by the time she finished explaining everything. She hugged her legs tighter and wished everything would just disappear. And knowing Jenny was now pulled into it because of her made her feel worse.

Jenny carefully pulled Ellie into a hug, noticing her tense up at first.

“It’ll be ok.” She paused. “if you wanna talk about what he saw…what he made you see, I’m here. And I wouldn’t put too much stock into what Lucifer says. He’s playing a larger game – too large even for him. He just wants to use us as pawns in the grand scheme of things, but I really don’t think he’ll get to us because he has much bigger fish to fry,” Jenny smiled, lying to the girl. The truth was she had no idea what Lucifer wanted with either of them, but she would be damned if he hurt Ellie again.

She grabbed the tissue box from her desk and handed it to Elliana. She took them and straightened herself out a bit.

“Thanks, Jenny but- I just- I don’t think I can right now. I just want to forget it…”

Jenny nodded and got her phone again, giving Bobby another call to see if he would come get Ellie.

Bobby hung up the phone and quickly texted the first available person he could think of. Jenny had called him to get Elliana but he was about to storm a warehouse full of Croatoan zombies. But he also didn’t want Ellie to have to stay there too long; and Ohio would be a very long drive.

Crowley, as much as Bobby hated the idea, said he would go and snap the girl to Bobby’s house and keep an eye on her until he and the boys got back.

Chapter 7 ->

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural fanfic #supernatural family #supernatural fandom #spn #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #Sam Winchester #Sam and Dean Winchester #sam winchester x teen oc #dean winchester #dean winchester x teen oc #bobby singer #sam and dean #supernatural x teen oc #original character #oc

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irwingiggling · 6 years

Text

westbrook | pt. 5

gang!ashton; gang!5sos

[pt. 1] [pt. 2] [pt. 3] [pt. 4]

[Image credit @not-grey-enough]

A/N: Gah it feels like it took me forever to get this part decent :/ I think it turned out ok?? Apologies in advance, I’m so out of practice with smut & writing it felt soo awkward so if it’s bad that’s why lol. And as always, I left it on a bit of a cliffhanger :) [Also let me know if you wanna be tagged when I upload future parts, cause I can do that!]

Summary: In which Ashton is one of the leaders of the Westbrook Dragons, a gang who often feuds with the Vipers for control of the streets. After hearing of her estranged father’s death, Marina comes to Westbrook to fix up his house and sell it. Coming from a privileged neighborhood, the last thing Marina expects is to move in next door to a gang’s hideout.

Word Count: 4,900+

Rating: R -> 18+ only, please!

Warnings: alcohol use, drug mentions, smut

Marina opened her door one morning to find a bouquet of flowers on the steps. She looked around and let out a gentle sigh, before carefully picking them up and bringing them inside. Upon closer inspection, she saw that they were a dozen tulips - three yellow tulips in the centre, surrounded by nine white tulips. Ever since she was little, just after she learned the names of flowers, she knew what they symbolized. And even though she hadn't been working at the floral shop recently, she would never forget the meanings. White tulips symbolized forgiveness, an apology, and respect. Yellow tulips symbolized friendship, hope and happiness. Inside the bouquet was a hand-written note, that she pulled out and read.

I know these last few weeks have been really difficult for you. I know you've had a lot to handle recently and I'm sorry if I pushed you too far. I thought you were ready to hear the truth, but I know it's a lot to accept, and I even understand if you never truly accept it. I wasn't really sure how to say all of this so I got you these flowers. I know you'll know what they mean. The Dragons are having a meeting tonight at 7 and I would love if you could make it - you always have a place there, since you're Rick's daughter, and even though I don't know what to call us, please know I will always consider you my friend. No pressure. You don't have to dress fancy, it's just me and the boys. -Ash

She let out a breath she'd been holding in, and knocked on the door three times. She hadn't been back to this apartment since the first time Ashton showed it to her. She pulled at her clothes, only a little nervous, as she waited for the door to open. She had managed to find the single pair of skinny jeans she'd packed with her, and the lowest pair of heels in her suitcase. She decided to completely forego a purse, and just put her phone in her back pocket. She was still wearing one of her blouses, but she felt this was as casual as she'd been in a long time.

The door was opened by none other than the colourful-haired man she'd become so well acquainted with the last two times she'd stepped onto Dragons territory. He looked incredibly surprised that she was here, unable to stop his eyebrows from raising when he recognized her.

"Hi," she said, giving him a smile, and holding her hand out for him to shake. "I don't think I ever got your name."

"It's Michael," he said slowly, shaking her hand. Eventually a small smile began to come to his face. When he let go of her hand, he nodded. "Come in."

"Thanks," she replied, following him inside. She had arrived a few minutes after 7, and people were already milling around the apartment. They varied in gender and age, but one thing connected them all together: all were wearing identical leather jackets with the Dragons logo on the back. It was a sea of leather and red scales. Classic rock music was playing from speakers at one side of the room, and as Marina followed Michael through the crowd, the odor of drugs and alcohol wafted into her nose. She followed closely behind Michael, focusing on not losing him among the ever-growing sea of people. Michael stopped at the entrance to the kitchen, where a smaller group of people had gathered, and turned back to make sure Marina was still there.

"Ash," Marina heard him say over the music.

Marina felt Michael's hand on her shoulder, pulling her forwards and then she was in the kitchen, Ashton standing a few steps in front of her.

"Hey!" he said brightly, stepping towards her. "You made it."

"Yeah," she said with a small smile.

They exchanged a quick hug. He hugged her tightly, just like the last time they were together. She could feel his hand against the small of her back, and as she pressed her head to his chest, her senses were hit with a hint of cologne and alcohol mixed with leather. Underneath his leather jacket, he was wearing a red silk-like shirt, with the top three buttons undone, exposing his chest. When they pulled away, Ashton's gaze fell to her eyes. He stared at her for a second more, before letting his hand fall from the small of her back.

"Well," he said, gesturing towards the other men in leather jackets who were chatting quietly amongst themselves in the kitchen. Whether they were giving her and Ashton some privacy, or really were interested in their own conversations, Marina wasn't sure, but she appreciated the gesture anyways.

"Boys," Ashton spoke up, getting their attention. They turned to Ashton, taking in Marina's presence.

They watched her with a slight hesitance, but curiosity. She knew she wasn't dressed like everyone else, and she understood why they were a bit hesitant at first.

"Michael I know you've already met her, but guys this is Marina, Rick's daughter."

As Ashton spoke, Marina watched their gazes soften, their posture becoming more relaxed. They knew that if Ashton approved of her, she was safe.

"Nice to meet you all," she said with a soft smile. She would've been a bit intimidated - all of them were at least six feet tall - but she could feel Ashton's chest against her back, and it comforted her to know that she at least knew someone in the room.

Ashton left her side to join his three friends, introducing them individually to her.

"This is Calum. He's... almost as badass as me," Ashton joked, slapping his arm around a man with tanned skin and jet black hair. Calum laughed, raising his bottle towards Marina and giving a nod of acknowledgement.

"You know this idiot already. He's our main security and we like to call him the chameleon cause his hair's always changing colour," Ashton said, gesturing to Michael, who laughed and gave her a wave.

Finally, Ashton moved to the man who looked to be the youngest, but was also the tallest. He had dirty blonde hair, that was long and curly, just past his ears. "This is Luke. He attracts a lot of our... younger clientele." Ashton smiled, squeezing Luke's cheeks. Luke blushed and tried to push Ashton away, causing everyone to laugh.

"What about you?" Marina asked, once the laughter had died down, nodding towards Ashton.

"He gets a lot of the grandmas," Calum smirked, bringing his beer bottle to his lips, trying to hide his smile.

Ashton opened his mouth wide, pretending for a second to be shocked. "Actually," he said, pointing to Calum. "That's a funny story. One time this elderly woman - she had to be in her 70's, at least - was-"

Marina tuned out the story as she scanned over the crowd scattered around the room. She wasn't sure what to expect when she got invited to a gang's meeting, but she wasn't as intimidated as she thought she'd be. Pretty much everyone seemed decently friendly, even the couple older guys who were at least 6'5". She was impressed at how effortlessly Ashton seemed to lead the group - she knew he wasn't the only leader, there was a small group of them - but it definitely seemed like he would have complete control in a year or two if he wanted it. It was just how he handed people that was so impressive. He was fair and kind, but still had something about him that commanded respect. He never had to explicitly state that he was the leader, or in charge, it was just a position that seemed to suit him so well.

"Do you want a drink?" Ashton asked, stepping towards her. He had finished his story, and the other three had gone back to their conversation.

"Sure," she nodded.

Ashton moved past her to the assortment of hard liquor bottles and beer cans spread out on the counter. "Whiskey and coke?" he asked over his shoulder.

She laughed a little, partly to cover her surprise. "You remembered."

"Of course," he said, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

She'd realized that Ashton was one of those people: if he let you into his inner circle, he'd protect and defend you with his life. He would make your safety and happiness a priority. He was cold and menacing to everyone else, and cautiously distrusting of anyone who dared to interact with his intimate group of friends and loved ones.

"Thanks," she said as Ashton handed her the glass.

"You're welcome."

They stood there, side by side, leaning against the counter and observing the party, sipping their drinks in silence. She was acutely aware of how much they weren't alone, how anyone could watch them and wonder about them. Ashton's left hand was resting against the edge of the counter, just a centimetre or two from brushing up against her skin. She wasn't sure whether he had left it there on purpose, if he'd given it any thought or if he'd just mindlessly placed it there. Eager to escape from her own thoughts, she forced herself to consciously observe the rest of the party.

"Do you...-" Marina trailed off quietly, gesturing towards an older man with tattoos who was doing a line of coke off the coffee table in the living room.

"Nah," Ashton said, shaking his head. "I mean, I've tried it when I was younger, but I prefer to just deal it. And Rick always believed if you were in charge, you had to stay sober. Keeps the business running smoothly. Some of the more casual members do it, and we leave that as their choice, but a lot of the inner core stays away from it."

Marina nodded. Luckily they didn't sit in silence again for much longer, as Ashton decided to address the room.

"Alright, gather round everyone!" he said loudly to be heard over the dull roar of conversation and music. The room quickly quieted down, people turning their attention towards him.

"This last month has been productive for us. We've shipped 100 lbs more coke than last month, and sold 20 lbs more than last on the streets. We've reclaimed Exeter Rd from the Vipers, and we're making headway on Avalon and Regency Street. Not only have we kept a low profile, but we've also kept the injuries minimal. Also, weed sales at Westbrook Secondary are up 21% this quarter. Nice job everyone." Each of his sentences was echoed with a round of applause, the last one earning the most enthusiastic praise. Ashton smiled and waited for the applause to die down before continuing.

"Now I'd like to introduce a special guest to you all. This is Marina, Rick's daughter. She's been staying in Westbrook for the last little while, and I appreciate her coming out today. I can assure you she has the same spirit and resourcefulness as her father. Thank you for coming, Marina." Ashton finished his speech, raising his glass towards her and taking a sip.

She watched as every glass in the room was raised towards her, before people began clapping and cheering. She smiled and looked around in amazement.

"Anyways, enjoy," Ashton said, addressing the crowd one last time. "As always: drinks on us. If you have any questions or concerns, I'll be in the study."

He turned away and a buzz began to build in the crowd again, as people went back to their earlier conversations.

"I want you in here," Ashton said quietly, putting his hand on Marina's back, steering her away from the rest of the group.

"Ok."

"They're... they're nice people, all of them," he said quietly into her ear, as they walked down the hallway to the study, "and I trust them with my life, but.. put it this way, there aren't many pretty faces that come around here, and even though I'm sure you wouldn't have a problem punching anyone in the face if you needed to, I'd rather prevent that from happening in the first place."

Ashton made sure every single concern was addressed. People came into the study in singles or pairs, with a myriad of questions or concerns. Others just came in to talk. Ashton was fair but firm with all of them. Marina mostly listened. She couldn't contribute much in the way of dialogue, being unfamiliar with essentially every aspect of the gang, but she enjoyed getting an inside look at how the gang functioned.

Plus, after an hour or so of interviews, when Marina was starting to get antsy, the late summer sun began to set, casting a gorgeous glow against Ashton's curls from the window behind the desk. Marina forced herself to focus again, desperately hoping the man across the table hadn't caught her staring at Ashton. She knew she was fucked. She knew it, but she was trying desperately to hold on to what little sophistication she had left.

The mingling after the actual meeting was beginning to die down, and people were steadily filtering out. Only a core group of the members remained, mainly the three guys that seemed to be closest to Ashton - Luke, Michael, and Calum - as well as a couple older, senior members of the gang.

"I just need to use the washroom, I'll be right back," Marina said, excusing herself from her conversation with Jack, a humble, balding man in his mid-fifties who joined the gang as a second job to help pay off his mortgage after his wife left him for a younger man with a Lamborgini.

She'd only been in the bathroom a minute or two when there was a knock on the door.

"Occupied," she said loudly so the person on the other side could hear her.

"It's Ashton," came a muffled voice.

"What's up?" she asked, through the door.

"Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," she said honestly.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I... get it now. When I first met you, I thought this whole thing was an excuse to create chaos, be unproductive. But I get it now. You guys all have each other's backs. It's like a brotherhood. Everyone out there's just trying to make a better life for themselves and their family. You're not a bad person, Ash. You're just... human."

She knew he was still at the door, but for a few seconds he didn't reply.

"Can I come in?" he asked finally.

Wordlessly, she clicked the lock.

He opened the door. The entire night he'd looked so fucking good. His hair was slicked back just slightly, but one curl had escaped, and cascaded down his forehead. The red silk shirt clung to this chest in all the right places, and he was still wearing his jacket - of course. She couldn't keep holding it in, she was going to go crazy.

She just did it. She remembered how she felt on the motorcycle - not reckless, she'd realized, but free - free from judgement, free from society's preconceptions. Free. In one swift step she closed the space between them and leaned up on her tiptoes, planting a kiss against his lips. He took a second to respond - obviously taken off guard. But then he relaxed, kissing her back. She felt his hands move to her waist, and pull her closer. She let her hands rest against his neck, as their lips met again and again. He quickly deepened the kiss, licking his tongue across her bottom lip. For a while she almost forgot where she was. It had been so long - maybe never - since she'd felt this feeling. It was like everything else pulled away and it was just her and Ashton.

"Jump," he mumbled against her lips. She complied, wrapping her legs around his waist. He carried her easily, lifting her onto the countertop to even the difference in their height. He slotted his hips in between her legs, kissing down her neck, as she instinctually moved aside to grant him better access. She moaned quietly, and she could feel him smile against her skin, as he pulled it gently with his teeth, sucking and licking down to her collarbone.

She grabbed his face and moved it back up towards hers, reattaching their lips. Every touch she felt was like fire, the pads of Ashton's fingers burning and blistering every square inch of skin they came in contact with.

Ashton pulled away despite Marina's whine of protest. His hands rested at the hem of her shirt, fingertips just barely sliding underneath the fabric. "Do you wanna do this?" he panted out, staring deeply into her eyes.

"Yes," she said instantly, meeting their lips again.

With that, a surge of energy ran through Ashton. He slid his hands underneath to cup her ass, pulling her off of the countertop. With Marina's legs wrapped around Ashton's waist, and her hands through his curls, the two stumbled down the hallway into the bedroom, Ashton kicking the door closed behind him. He placed her gently down on the bed, hovering over her.

Her hands left his hair for a second to reach up and unbutton his shirt, fingers fumbling with the small buttons as she tried to undo them all as quickly as possible. Ashton chuckled from above her, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. When she got the fabric off of him, he helped to pull her blouse over her head, tossing the fabric carelessly aside. Meanwhile, she had already moved onto undoing the buckle of his belt.

"One sec," he said, batting her hands away. Neither one of them had bothered to turn the lights on in the room, so all that illuminated the two of them was the fading sunset through the half-closed blinds. She looked at him curiously. His fingers moved to his right side, and as he pulled the object out from between his hips, the light reflected against the hard plastic of the black object. Her eyes widened, as he carefully slid a gun out of his side, clicking it and pulling out the cartridge before placing both objects on the side table a few feet from them.

"Shit," she breathed, staring up at him, as he turned his focus back to her.

"It's ok," he soothed, dipping down to meet his soft lips to hers. "I always carry one," he mumbled between neck kisses and gentle bites. "It's for protection. But I've never actually used it." He then pulled away to look at her, touching her chin softly.

She nodded slowly, looking into his eyes. She knew he meant it.

"Ok?" he asked softly again, gaze dropping down to watch his own fingers drawing soft patterns on the exposed skin of her stomach. In a few seconds he looked back up to meet her gaze, and she watched him.

He was staring at her, into her with those damn chocolate brown eyes and his lips were swollen and red, especially as he licked them absentmindedly. Curls of hair cascaded down his forehead, his tattoos, and his goddamn fingers against her cheek and half of her neck, the cool metal of his rings pressing deliciously against her flesh.

She drew her bottom lip between her teeth, letting out a quiet moan, and moved to undo his belt for the second time. It was difficult for her because at that moment, once Ashton understood that she was alright, his hands moved to her back to unclasp her bra, pulling the fabric away to leave her bare-chested.

"Fuck," she breathed, as Ashton's lips instantly moved to her left nipple, drawing circles into her right one with his thumb. She could hardly see straight and her hands dropped away from his jeans, not able to focus on anything more than the pleasure running through her veins. Ashton gave a chuckle deep in his throat and pulled his mouth away from her nipple with an obscene pop, to focus on getting his own pants off as quickly as humanly possible.

Once the fabric had been thrown across the room, Ashton returned his lips to hers. While they were kissing, he removed his hands from her waist to grab her wrists, holding them together with one of his hands above her head.

"Mmm Ash," she moaned. The kiss was hot and heavy and she could feel his dick pressing against her thigh, straining against the thin fabric of his boxers.

With his other hand he swiftly removed her underwear, then broke the kiss and dropped down, letting her wrists go. Marina could barely comprehend his actions until she felt the flat of his tongue against her slit.

"Fuck," she breathed.

He ate her out like she was chocolate pudding, lapping against her folds and flicking the bud of her clit with his tongue over and over, driving her insane. Marina could only whine and moan, hands in his hair, pulling helplessly on his curls. He soon mixed his fingers in with his tongue, curling one long finger up inside of her.

"Does that feel good, babygirl?" he murmured, hot breath against her pussy. His mouth moved back to her clit, sucking and nibbling against the soft bud as he slipped a second finger inside. She could only whine and squirm in response, hips lifting up off the bed in search of more, yanking at his curls until he was forced to move his head back up to her lips and pull his fingers out of her.

"My turn," she whispered, hands moving to the waistband of his boxers and pulling out his dick. He hissed as her thumb circled the head a few times, before stroking his full length. She had barely touched him and already beads of precum were leaking from the head. He rested his forehead against her shoulder, biting softly into the flesh as the pace of her hand increased. Seeing this man a panting, moaning mess in front of her was something Marina thought she could never get tired of.

"'m not gonna last, Mar," he moaned, cupping her chin to bring her attention away from his dick. She pressed her lips to his again, letting his tongue slide into her mouth as she removed her hand from his dick, pulling his boxers down completely. He reached over to the sidetable to grab a condom, stroking himself a few times before rolling it down his length.

"Fuck," he sighed, staring into her eyes. His pupils were blown black with lust, but there was a certain gentleness, caring just beneath the surface.

He pressed himself into her, inch by inch, until he was completely buried inside of her. She whimpered slightly, and he stilled, waiting for her body to adjust. He was a nice, average thickness, but it was his length that drove her insane.

"I got you, babygirl. Just relax," he murmured, hands rubbing circles against her hips as he breathed against her.

A few seconds later she gave him a nod, indicating that he could move. Somehow he knew exactly where he could push her, and where to be more gentle. In the beginning, his thrusts were slow, torturous almost. He was both caring and passionate, knowing exactly when to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and when to fuck her hard and deep. After a few minutes, she was meeting Ashton's thrusts with her own. She knew neither one of them was going to last long, there was so much pent up tension and energy between them.

"Fuck, Ash I-" Ashton cut off the rest of her sentence by slipping his tongue into her mouth. His hand moved down to play with her clit, sending her closer to the edge. "Let go, babe. I want you to come first."

She let out a long moan, of course he was the kind of guy who wanted her to finish first. When she couldn't hold it any longer, she let go, her vision going black, seeing stars. Ashton worked her through it, coming a short while after, set off by her clenching around his dick.

He pulled out and tossed the condom in the general direction of the garbage can, as the two collapsed into a sweaty, panting heap, neither one having the energy or desire to move. After a few seconds, Ashton pressed his lips to hers one last time. "Sweet dreams, babygirl," he murmured, wrapping one muscular arm around her waist and settling down into his own pillow.

Marina woke up the next morning to sunlight gently streaming in through the blinds and Ashton rolling over, pulling her closer into his arms. "Morning," he whispered into her ear, voice deep and gravelly but skin soft and warm.

"Morning," she murmured back, tracing lazy circles against his chest which she was comfortably squished against. They lay there in pleasant silence for a while, soaking up the morning rays of sunlight and the quiet afterglow of last night's events.

She chuckled lightly to herself on the inside, thinking about how differently they'd first interacted compared to now. She felt like she needed to say something, to apologize, almost.

"I'm sorry I was such a bitch earlier," she whispered quietly, left hand running through his curls over and over again.

"It's all good," he smiled fondly, locking eyes with her. "I always knew you liked me - deep down."

"Mhm," she laughed, smacking his chest playfully.

He giggled and rolled over, trapping her beneath him.

As their giggles died down, Ashton leaned down to press their lips together. He grabbed Marina's wrists and held them above her head. Their bodies were skin to skin, completely pressed against each other so they barely looked like two separate people. He threaded his fingers between the spaces in her own, the back of her hands against the pillows above her. He gave her a gentle peck on the lips, ending it with a little giggle. They kissed lazily like that for a little while, before Ashton pulled his hands away, rolling them over again so this time she was on top, head laying against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, and her hands lay splayed across his chest, listening to his heartbeat in her ears.

"Mmm I could fall asleep again like this," she mumbled, as his right hand scratched soothingly against her scalp, running through her hair.

"Me too," he smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

There was silence for a few seconds, before Ashton's stomach gurgled loudly, causing them both to laugh.

"Breakfast time?"

The two made their way to the kitchen, Ashton pulling on a pair of boxer briefs and Marina slipping back on her own underwear, throwing the closest shirt she could find over top, which happened to be one of Ashton's.

20 minutes later they had a nice stack of homemade pancakes on the dining table, and both were sitting down to eat.

"You know, this could technically be our first date," Ashton said casually, between bites of fluffy pancake and maple syrup.

Marina smiled, face flushing pink at Ashton's words. She wasn't sure where they stood - if this was a one time thing, or what. And she hadn't wanted to ask, hadn't wanted to ruin the mood, but Ashton's words confirmed that he thought of this as more than that.

"That's cute," she grinned, holding her fork up with a piece of pancake on top. "Cheers to a second date.”

Ashton giggled and tapped his own fork and pancake against hers. "Cheers," he said, eating his pancake unceremoniously, causing them both to start laughing.

Shortly aftewards, they heard the lock to the front door flick open, and both turned to see Luke quickly stepping inside, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Oh-" he said, not expecting to see both Ashton and Marina in the kitchen over pancakes. Marina didn't even have time to be embarrassed about the situation because Luke was too carried away in the moment to comment. His chest was heaving and his eyes were wide. When he spoke, he was out of breath. The smile on Ashton's face from something Marina had said only moments earlier had now faded, his mood changing instantly.

"Ash we need to leave. Now," Luke said urgently.

"Shit, ok," Ashton replied, taking one last bite of his pancake and wiping his sticky hands on the nearest napkin. He disappeared into the bedroom, only to come out seconds later wearing a pair of black skinny jeans and a band tee. He grabbed his leather jacket from the side of the couch and quickly put it on, raking a hand through his messy curls.

"Sorry sweetheart," he said, pressing a kiss to Marina's cheek. "Duty calls."

Ashton quickly scaled the length of the room with his long legs, and the two leather-clad men were out the door in seconds.

When Marina returned to the bedroom to change into her clothes, her gaze flickered to the bedside table. The gun that Ashton had left there last night was now gone. She wondered what they were doing, him and Luke. She realized, with a slightly sinking feeling in her stomach, that there was still so much about Ashton that she didn't know.

[read pt. 6 here]

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