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somethingboutafic · 3 months

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Canon

Autumn At My Window by TheCellarDoor (M) word count: 20,405 A canon-compliant AU, in which Harry and Louis are both in the band and have been sharing flats and hotel rooms for nearly five years, but never made the leap past 'friends who are too close for comfort'. Featuring a lot of pining, Louis' addiction to Harry's scent, and a whole lot of sexual tension that might just snap loose when they decide to spend some time together all on their own

Every Arrow That I Aim Is True by estrella30 (E) word count: 24,890 “I can see you don’t believe me,” Harry says, pretending to be stern. Louis chuckles a little but doesn’t get out of the bed. “Anyway, I texted Liam and told him you’re with me. He said to stay here as long as you need, and he’ll deal with the show over there until you want to come back, all right?” Louis doesn’t say anything again so Harry whispers, “Just stay here with me for a while, yeah? I’ll take care of you.” Louis is quiet. He never picks his head up, but Harry can see the pillow move from where he’s nodding and his fingers tighten around Harry’s. “Yeah,” Louis says. “Yeah, all right.”

(your heartbeat) rang true inside my bones by flimsy (E) word count: 32,945 Harry goes as Louis' date for a weekend wedding. He ends up taking the role a bit too seriously.

nonstop earthquake dreams of you by lumineres (M) word count: 37,265 harry falls hard and finds louis already at the bottom

Promise Not to Fall by dimpled_halo (E) word count: 38,550 When One Direction goes on hiatus, Harry and Louis reconnect, becoming the friends they once were during their days in the X Factor. It doesn’t take long for their friendship to evolve into friends with benefits, unable to resist the physical attraction between them. Things get complicated when feelings get in the way.

The Sound of Your Voice From Far Away by pukeandcry (E) word count: 39,541 After the U.S. leg of the Take Me Home tour, Harry and Louis drive from L.A. to NYC. They figure some things out, like how to deal with the distance that's been growing between them.

things have gotten closer to the sun by starseas (M) word count: 49,276 When a solar flare is announced to end the world in twelve days, harry reunites with the people that he used to know better than the back of his own hand.

every universe but ours by 28finelines (E) word count: 49,843 louis and harry have been friends with benefits for going on nine years, until a woman claiming to be louis’ fairy godmother decides to send him into a variety of alternate universes to help him find his soulmate.

The Guesthouse by onthecuttingroomfloor (E) word count: 61,951 Louis has a secret that could break him. With every trip to the Guesthouse, with every fuck he offers himself up for, he gets a piece of the freedom back that he's lost. Seven nights a year he goes to the exclusive sex club; every day he fights to keep that little bit of information to himself. And there's another thing - his unwavering and pointless obsession with his bandmate. There's the Guesthouse, and then there's Harry, and Louis works tirelessly to keep the two apart. Soon, very soon now, he won't be able to. CANON DIVERGENCE

Happy To Be Found by ashavahishta (E) word count: 69,860 The weeks spanning October 2012 - January 2013 are a rollercoaster for Harry and Louis. There's shows to play, an album to promote, publicity stunts to be acted out...and several new tattoos to be inked. Throughout it all, the boys focus on the most important thing in their lives - their relationship.

One More Taste of Your Lips by CanadianLarrie, MsHydeStylinson (E) word count: 80,035 It had been eight years since the hiatus began, and Louis had spent that time writing and recording music, touring and making it safely through the pandemic. When the opportunity arose to go back on tour with One Direction, Louis knew he'd be a fool not to take it. Sure, life on the road would be different after all this time apart, but he was looking forward to experiencing that comradery again. What he hadn't realised was that living the better part of nine months in each other's pockets was bound to dredge up issues from his past. And when one of the pockets belonged to Harry, who he'd had a rather unconventional friendship with that drifted apart during their last tour, life on the road again would upend both their lives in irrevocable ways. Harry wasn’t that sixteen year old boy anymore. Nor was he the young man in his late teens who was on the cusp of conquering the entire world. But some traits seemed to remain the same; his vibrant green eyes, the dimples set deeply in his cheeks whenever he laughed earnestly, or his curls that were the same shade of cocoa that Louis remembered fondly. And yet, Louis had absolutely no idea who this man that stood a mere twenty paces away was today.

Stranger Than Larry Fiction by Larrysmomfics (M) word count: 90,736 It's been twelve years since Harry met Louis on TXF, became best mates with him, eventually falling head over heels in love with him. Six years post One Direction deciding to go on hiatus and now everyone is doing their own thing. All the boys have solo careers, some are touring, and with their busy lives in play, Harry and Louis have sort of grown apart. Harry's been filling the Louis void by devouring Larry fanfics, giving himself a chance to love Louis from afar in his own way. So far it's worked for him and he's content with his love of Louis being of the unrequited variety. That all changes, however, when Harry reads a particularly emotional and classic fic in the fandom, and he simply can't help but call Louis despite his sobs to tell him all about it, inadvertently sending Louis down the Larry fic rabbit hole as well. OR A canon-divergent AU where Louis and Harry read Larry Stylinson fanfiction

Leave It At That by Antiseptic (E) word count: 103,899 the one where Louis Tomlinson comes out as gay at the age of thirty and all the other former One Direction members find out through social media. All of them. Harry Styles included.

After All These Years by LifeInAColorWheel (E) word count: 127,766 It’s been seven years since One Direction went on hiatus and it’s been eight years since Louis and Harry broke up. They’ve been strangers to one another since then. But, over the course of a weeklong boys’ trip, history between Harry and Louis resurfaces. Or, The one when Louis and Harry don’t talk, connect again years later, and reflect on why their love collapsed.

It Goes, It's Golden by lucythegoosey (E) word count: 150,991 Canon Compliant AU in which Harry and Louis broke under the strain of it all and now, years on, there's a chance to put all the pieces back together. Set in early April 2015 all the way through to October. Written in Harry and Louis' perspectives, alternating every chapter.

my heart is breathing for this moment in time by usedtothebeach (E) word count: 159,845 When Louis first saw Harry at the 2010 X Factor Auditions, he thought he was watching a peculiarly special stranger. But Harry has known Louis ever since he was five years old. Because Louis has a rare genetic disorder that causes him to Time Travel to important moments in his past and in his future - and to Harry, always to Harry. When they're put into a band together, it seems like everything Harry has been waiting and wishing for has finally come true. Except for the small fact that Louis doesn't know that Harry is in love with him- that Harry's always been in love with him. Fate, it would seem, is just getting started. A story about growing up and growing together, and the impossible love that makes it all worthwhile.

The Greatest Thing by infinitelymint (E) word count: 163,789 Harry and Louis haven’t spoken since the band broke up when a dangerous combination of Niall Horan, tequila, and an ordained Elvis impersonator means that the two of them have to embark on their biggest publicity stunt to date - together. (aka the semi-canon accidentally married in Vegas fic that has been seven years in the making)

Given a Chance by Fabby (E) word count: 173,467 The one where Louis and Harry run into each other five years after One Direction ends and learn how to love each other again. Featuring: Reggie as the overweight labrador, Niall as Louis’ last grip on reality, and Nowheresville, North Carolina as the setting for Louis’ worst nightmare to come true.

One More Time Again by orphan_account (E) word count: 232,268 On the morning of his second sold-out performance at Madison Square Garden, Harry wakes up to find that he's sixteen years old, on The X Factor, and that he has a chance to make things right. A canon-compliant fix-it fic (sort of).

Call Answered by beechersnope (E) word count: 249,287 The day after his 27th birthday, Harry Styles attempts suicide. Louis is flown to his bedside to unravel the mystery of why he did it after a flash drive is found with a note attached, addressed to Louis. On it are a collection of 78 songs, all written for different dates from their past.

May You Enjoy Your New Life by aimmyarrowshigh (E) word count: 264,033 It begins for them all at the bungalow – 'Alright, time to lay out the cards. We’re in this together and hopefully, for the long haul, yeah? So I think – you know, we should just be honest. It’s deal-breakers time. That thing that like, if we’re gonna hate you or something, just tell us all now.' When One Direction begins, Harry Styles is a sixteen-year-old boy foundering under the pressure of impending fatherhood. His ability to balance the sobering responsibility of caring for his tiny daughter, Millie, and the exhilaration of seeing his own dreams coming to fruition affects not only his future, but those of Liam, Zayn, Niall, and Louis, who never expected fealty to be the key to their success. But Liam is the first to show him how to grow up without growing old, and Zayn is the first to defend from the public what is private and precious. Louis -- Louis is the first for a lot of things; for most of the moments of Millie's life and for the moments of Harry's that matter. And Niall is the first to toast when Millie is born: Go maire sibh bhur saol nua -- 'may you enjoy your new life.'

Hiding Place by orphan_account (E) word count: 365,058 The canon compliant Harry and Louis love story from the very beginning, where the only difference is that the love between them is literally written on their skin, and there’s only so much they can hide.

#canon #larry fic rec #larry fic #larry fanfiction

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helennorvilles · 3 years

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so my desk does fit in the way i was imagining, BUT it doesn’t like opening or closing on carpet so....... a medium kind of a win???

#i just gotta buy something to sit beneath it so it doesn't scrape on carpet and instead can slide on a mat or smthn #which isn't that hard like maybe i get a small rug that's thin or i get one of those plastic sheets people use under wheely chairs #i think i'll leave it up for now and just carefully slide past it every time i need to move??#alternately i physically leap OVER my bed and go around it that way but that feels like more work than a careful slide #anyway my beautiful desk is beautiful and i built it all myself and i love <3<3<3 #now (THEORETICALLY anyway) i will be more productive with writing bc i won't be lying in bed all the time lol #my post tag

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cotccotc · 3 years

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SKZ REACT to...

◈ you being followed

part of my eight as fate event !! ( requested by anon ♡ )

genre/s: comfort, skz x gn reader

warning/s: description of being followed on the street, descriptions / mentions of panic attacks

wc: 1.8k

a/n: this one took me quite a while but i’m happy with it !!! i decided to write out a longer introduction to this to kinda set up a scene !! i hope y’all enjoy it (esp the comforting parts ofc kdjdjf)

it’s somewhat unlike you to walk alone at night. you figured it would only take you a few minutes, but you got out of work late, setting you back quite a while. to make things worse, while you were working overtime, the sun had set, leaving you to traverse the dimly lit city streets on your own. all you know is that your boyfriend left the door open for you, and a couch date sounds really great right now.

somewhere along your walk, you heard a shuffling noise coming from behind you. you disregarded it, thinking it may have been simple paranoia. you’ve seen too many movies, you think. however, as you keep up your leisurely yet steady pace, you hear another noise. this time you turn around.

a man. in a black hoodie. looking you dead in the eye.

your eyes widen as a small gasp leaves your mouth. needless to say, you begin sprinting to your destination, heart racing at a pace that rivals the speed of your feet. with your focus aimed at getting as far away as you can, you’re honestly not even sure how your legs know where they’re going. nevertheless, your saving grace comes into view. after a quick glance at the now empty street behind you, you sprint even faster than before. and, once you make it to the apartment door, you fling the door open and leap inside with enough force to rattle the hinges.

“y/n? what’s wro-”

“i was being followed,” you interject, a choked sob finally escaping you.

◈ CHAN

his first instinct, no matter what, is to make sure you feel safer now.

he’ll sit you down on the couch, staying close beside you and rubbing your back while reiterating that whoever that man was is gone now.

i’ve always liked to think he’d be good to have around in the event of a panic attack. especially if you’re the type of person who needs physical and verbal reassurance. back rubs, hugging, and breathing reminders galore.

once you’ve calmed down, he would wipe away your tears and hold you close to him as he asks you about the rest of your day.

he’s an amazing listener and he can’t wait to hear about the latest employee or customer gossip lmao

but more importantly, it would take your mind off things, which is all he truly wants.

if you start looking a bit gloomy or drifting off in thought, he’d probably suggest some cuddle time !! he would make sure to remind you of how courageous you were in that moment before promising you one last time that you’re safer now, here with him.

you’d finally fall asleep in his arms, filling him with relief.

◈ MINHO

first reaction: absolutely pissed.

not at you of course, but at the guy who was following you. with you still in his arms, he glances pointedly out the front door and the windows, closing the blinds after giving the entire apartment a once-over.you end up in the bedroom, in which he’ll guide you to sit beside him on the bed.

his expression will have completely changed from anger to loving concern. he’d look deeply into your eyes while holding both your hands in his, assuring you that you’re safe now.while you continue to cry, you explain what had happened in more detail. he strokes your hair as you speak and nods along, blood boiling.

he can’t stand the thought of any person making you feel unsafe. but, he’d maintain a calm exterior in order to make you feel more at ease.

once you describe the whole situation, he’d reassure you once again that the man can’t get to you now.

“he’ll have to get through me.”

you giggle.

“hEY”

◈ CHANGBIN

i think he’d have a similar reaction to minho !!

very visibly pissed that some random guy had the nerve to intimidate you. that dude’s lucky he didn’t follow you the whole way home or else he’d probably be pretty uh. damaged. by now..

he’d sit you down on the couch, do a quick check-in at each of the windows and doors, and come back as soon as he can to console you.

when he does, he’s quick to sit beside you, arm wrapped around you with the other wiping the tears off of your face.

after you explain the situation a bit more clearly, he becomes even more angry (probably mutters some curses under his breath)

but !!!! i think he’d really try his best to focus on cheering you up

asking you what you’d like to do for the rest of the night, if you’d like any food, if you’d like to sleep or stay up for a while.. etc.

plus he’d amp up the silly antics to make you forget about things !!

◈ HYUNJIN

i think his physical reaction would become similar to yours. very quickly.

like once he sees your tears and senses your quickened pulse. his immediate response (whether voluntary or not) would be to emulate you.

so, naturally, he’d hold you in his arms and let you cry it out, while small sobs of his own escape him.

seeing you so scared is a scary feeling.

of course, he’d reassure you that you’re safe !!! he’d look into your eyes, tucking your hair behind your ears, and tell you that it’s all over now and that you’re safe.

you, of course, don’t want him to feel sad or scared, so you’d console him as well.

you two would comfort each other the whole rest of the night. i think the most probable option would be the two of you cuddled up in bed watching a movie or reading webtoons together

distraction !! but make it a drama !! or a romcom because .. vibes !!

and when you decide it’s time for bed (however late that may be due to the stress from earlier) he’d be sure to remind you that he’ll be with you all night & when you wake up

(but he’s also secretly clinging onto you out of fear as well kdjfgj)

◈ JISUNG

“oh sh- oh sHIT-”

wouldn’t know what in the fuck to do

would haphazardly check all the windows like minho did, holding your hand as you continue to cry

after he’s done, he’d cling to you and hold you SO very tight <3

lots of “shh shh baby.. baby shhhh” and all that jazz.. you know the sungie vibes…

he’d stroke your hair and arms, noticing your slight shakiness and suggesting you both cuddle for some extra comfort and warmth

no matter what time of night it is, he’d turn off the lights and cuddle with you as you describe the event in more detail

quiet & calm

even if you end up crying again while you speak, he’s there to brush the tears off your face with his thumb and help you calm down again

◈ FELIX

before you came, he might have cooked a small meal for the two of you to share. even though you worked late, it’d still be waiting for you when you arrive. he’d wait too.

when you do happen to burst through the door, he’d jump and gasp out of fear but he’s quick to run up to you and hold you as you let out everything you’d held in during your walk-turned-chase

also !! will help you get settled in as you describe what went down

helping you take off your coat and shoes, getting water for you, grabbing some blankets; all while listening intently and giving you all of his attention

once you’re seated on the couch, wrapped in the softest blanket he could find and staying hydrated after such a harrowing event, he’d be sure to hold you as close as possible to remind you that everything’s okay

eventually, through his subtle gestures and calming demeanor, you won’t even realize how you got situated !! he just knows what to do to make you as comfortable as possible without even trying all that hard

you may choose to skip dinner, but no matter what, he’ll be holding you close the whole night through to make sure you know he’s there to protect and care for you

◈ SEUNGMIN

he’s very methodical about how to proceed. his first instinct is to do what some of the others would and check the house, but he decides to help you calm down first.

you’re rambling about what happened in between sobs and quick breaths, which sends a pain through his heart as he shuts and locks the door.

if you’re shorter than him, he’d bend a little to make direct eye contact with you. he’ll rub your arms and tell you that you don’t have to be afraid anymore

the most calming and reassuring voice in the whole world omg !!!!!!

he’d wipe your tears away and cup your face with both of his hands, prompting you to look back into his eyes before smiling at you

“you’re safe now, right?”

you smile back at him, nodding.

“now, let’s lock all the doors so no bad guys can get in!”

then, he’d take your hand and let you help him lock the doors and shut the curtains, making it feel like a chore instead of a precaution

and for your “good work”, he’d reward you with some binge watching & cuddle time !!! (as if that wasn’t the original plan skjdfg)

◈ JEONGIN

(under his breath, eyes wide) “oh my god…”

i think he’d start freaking out a bit like hyunjin did, but he’d do his very best to hide it. he knows he has to be strong to help you calm down and feel safe.

like felix, he’d help you take off your coat and shoes, leading you over to the couch as you shakily describe what happened.

(i’m sorry i keep making comparisons to the other members bUT) like minho, he’d hold your hands in his, rubbing them softly with his thumbs to soothe your nerves as you let everything out

he’d try to cheer you up by suggesting alternative motives the man might’ve had instead of wanting to harm you

for instance:

jeongin: “what if he was lost and needed directions but he was too shy to ask because you’re so pretty/handsome?”

you: “babe i don’t think-”

jeongin: “OR what if he thought he knew you !!”

you: “but he-”

jeongin: “WHAT IF IT WAS BATMAN-”

overall, his aim is to distract you (as well as himself), which ends in success. you’ll both be in stitches by the end of the night

and… laughing is super tiring, right?

therefore, as reiterated throughout all of these reactions because we all know it’s true:

CUDDLESSSS

oh also.. right before you fall asleep in his arms, he’d ask if you want to leave the light on during the night :( bc he’s a cutie :((((

tags: @stayndays, @hanniiesuckle17, @leggomylino, @freckledberries, @kisskissbanggang, @mr-jisung-main, @childofthecosmos, @kpopscape, @skzwriternet, @hyunsins, @sleepylixie, @sunshine-skz, @vera-liscious, @thatrandomoneinthecorner, @cyberskz, @seungminsaidsta, @somethingrandomworld, @ethan806 ( join my tag list !! )

#districtninewriters #inkidz #skzwritersclub #straykidsland #*fics #*8 #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #skz #stray kids #skz reactions #stray kids reactions #skz ot8 #stray kids ot8

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mintymiknow · 3 years

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Trust Fall - ch. 10 | Lee Minho

summary | character profiles | masterlist

Pairing: Lee Minho/Lee Know x Reader

Summary: Pieces are falling to place like a puzzle, and the light at the end of the tunnel is seemingly near sight. But there are still some obstacles to tackle...as well as some other hidden fragments to collect.

Genre: Secret agent/spy au, romance, angst, action

Word count: Approx. 5.3k

Warnings for this chapter: Suggestiveness (another warning will be placed within the story so you’ll know which paragraphs to skip should you want to)

A/N: Another surprise! I really am getting busier, so I wanted to get another chapter out for everyone because there’s a high possibility that the next chapter will take longer than usual. This chapter will sort of signal the midpoint of the series. Also...for the Minho simps, another fragment of flashback of his past is included~ Oh, and more swoony moments! Enjoy, and don’t hesitate to send an ask if you have comments or questions!

Minho leads you to the door of room 1117, hand still clasped around yours. Just before he enters, he turns to face you. “I’ll have to leave you here for a while, if you don’t mind. Interrogations can get...messy.” he says softly, taking notice of how you have your hands protectively wrapped around your upper arms.

You nod, and Minho takes off his suit jacket to drape around your shoulders before making three knocks on the door. Seconds later, Changbin opens it and walks out, greeting Minho with a playful salute. “Target’s all yours.” he smirks.

Minho thanks him with a smile before proceeding inside the room. Changbin hangs back when the door closes, sliding down against the wall to sit on the floor. He pats the spot beside him, encouraging you to sit next to him. You do so, smoothing out the fabric of your gown’s skirt, currently focused on the warmth Minho’s suit jacket gave you. The buff agent tilts his head, “How was the gala?”

“Oh you know, I danced with Minho.”

“Oh you know, I told him a secret.”

“Oh you know, I nearly kissed him.”

“Ah.” you eventually respond, “I danced most of the time. And pretended to drink champagne.”

Changbin stretches his arms and chuckles, “Interesting.”

You nod, mind still too preoccupied with thoughts about yours and Minho’s interactions for the night. Wasn’t it your intention to stay away from building bonds while in SKZ? Well, ever since you rekindled your friendship with Seungmin and Jisung, that plan already seemed to diverge. That’s one thing, but it’s another thing to feel a certain way towards a certain someone.

Not that you admitted you liked Minho, but what was this fluttery feeling blooming in your chest, flooding you with warmth each time Minho smiled at you or got physically close?

You had spent years putting up protective walls, and was this agent tearing it down? Perhaps that was why he was an agent, right? They’re experts at digging into things.

Was Minho telling the truth about trusting you? Or was that another one of his effortless lies and covers?

Changbin seems to pick up on your tense and nervous demeanor. He then bumps your shoulder with his, catching your attention. When you abruptly look at him with wide eyes, he chuckles, “Thinking about something?”

“I…” you trail off before clearing your throat, “just suddenly felt tired. Sleepy. I’ve been wearing these heels for hours.”

“Hmm.” Changbin nods his head, “You could have gone back to your hotel room when Hyunjin called the agents over.”

“I preferred to stay where you all were for...reasons.” you say quietly, not quite sure how you were supposed to say that you felt safer that way.

“Understood.” Changbin nods in understanding.

Meanwhile, inside the room, Chan, Minho, Jeongin and Hyunjin look at their target now tied up on the floor. Chan’s sitting on the bed, sifting through the papers they managed to find in the room. “This is more than enough intel.” the eldest agent states, nodding his head definitively.

Hyunjin is leaning against the wall as he hums, “Unfortunately, those are just lab reports and results for their serum’s current status. Our lab department can handle that. We have no leads on who they were supposed to transact with tonight though.”

“Perhaps our target is willing to tell.” Jeongin sing-songs.

The target hisses, eyebrows furrowed in anger, “As if! I’d rather die.”

“That can be arranged.” Minho says nonchalantly, a bored expression on his face.

“He’s gonna do it you know?” Jeongin snickers, kneeling beside the target, “So I think it’s best if you just tell us.”

The target laughs, shaking his head, “Are you gonna do it knowing your little lady friend is just outside?”

Minho’s eyebrow twitches, but he still manages to keep a stone-faced expression as he crosses his arms, “Her presence is irrelevant.”

Then Minho’s shrugging his vest off, slowly approaching the male with calculated steps. He grabs the target’s collar with ease, lifting him from the ground and glaring intensely. “Who were you going to transact with?” Minho repeats the question in a growl-like manner.

“Didn’t know SKZ had good-looking agents.”

Minho raises an eyebrow, and Jeongin ends up releasing a sympathetic sigh. Hyunjin whistles where he stands, and Chan pays no attention to the group, much too busy skimming through the sheets of paper in his hands. Minho then releases the target to roll the sleeves of his shirt before slapping the target with minimal force. “Answer the question.” the agent says.

However, the target is stubborn and keen on keeping his mouth shut. He responds with unrelated statements, jabs tasteless jokes and even mocks SKZ. When he makes the mistake of saying something about endangering you, however, Minho’s lips curl into a smirk, and the rest of the agents know what’s to come.

Jeongin smiles, walking over to sit on the bed with Chan, “It was nice knowing you, Mr. Target.”

Minho cracks his knuckles and stretches his neck before kneeling down to the target’s eye level, “I’m not in the mood for a long night, so let’s get this over with, shall we?”

A few minutes later, the hotel room door opens, and Hyunjin walks out. Changbin stands and offers his hand to help you stand as well. With both of you on your feet, Hyunjin grins, “Heya y/n! You look good!”

“Didn’t you pick the dress?” you ask.

“Kind of. A female agent just asked for my opinion.” Hyunjin smiles before yawning, “Well, the target’s unconscious so Chan and I will keep watch until the pick-up team arrives to take him back to HQ.”

Jeongin is the next to exit the room, his grin still plastered on his face, “Unfortunately, we still have another meeting.”

Changbin nods, “Hope it’ll be quick.”

Minho is the next to exit the room as Hyunjin goes back in, gently closing the door as he does so. The older agent then nods at Changbin and Jeongin, “You two can go ahead. I’ll just walk y/n back to her room.”

The two fellow agents nod before waving and saying their goodbyes. They begin to walk down the hallway to the elevator, leaving you and Minho alone. He turns to you, gesturing towards the alternative staircase, “All our rooms are just one floor above. Mind taking the stairs?”

You’re tempted to refuse since you were still wearing your heels, but in the end, you nod and gesture for the male to lead the way. Minho nods, taking your hands in his once more as he ascends the stairs. You aren’t very sure why he does that - holding your hands and all - but...it was nice. It felt nice.

You both walk in silence, arriving in front of your hotel room door not too long after. The male turns on his heel to face you, nodding towards the door, “Go shower, get some sleep, whatever. Don’t worry about waking up early, I’m pretty sure Jung will have us leave after lunch tomorrow.”

You nod again, offering a small smile, “You didn’t need to escort me all the way here, you know?”

“Better safe than sorry.” Minho smiles, and for some reason, you see the gesture as more charming than usual. Were you that tired already?

You gently scoff, eyes never leaving Minho’s, “Truly an efficient and thorough agent.”

His lips curl into a somewhat larger smile as he shakes his head in amusement, “You flatter me. Go inside now.”

You stifle a laugh before nodding your head. You look into each other’s eyes for another second, but that brief moment of him looking at you fondly is enough to make you feel heat rising to your cheeks once more. With that, you move to open your door.

“Oh, one more thing.”

You halt your movements, turning to face the agent with a curious tilt of your head. Ah, maybe he wanted you to return his suit jacket.

You grip the jacket in an attempt to get it off of your shoulders when you suddenly feel Minho grabbing your wrist, gently pulling you close. As if happening in slow motion, the male leans closer - similar to what happened in the ballroom - until you can feel his breath fanning over your skin. Your hands grip the jacket around your shoulders tighter, heart threatening to leap out.

Then that’s when you feel his lips coming into contact with your skin, a soft and chaste kiss on your cheek, slightly above the corner of your lips.

In his mind, that was more than enough. That was fine for now.

“Goodnight, y/n.” he says after pulling away, flashing you one more small smile.

He does the honor of opening your door for you, seeing as to how you were frozen in place. Minho chuckles, gently pushing you inside the room. He bows his head politely before walking off to meet with the others, leaving you dumbfounded once more.

When you’re sure he’s gone, you slam the door shut and lean against it, eyes wide with panic as you reach a hand up to touch the area he kissed. “Why…” you ask yourself, failing to comprehend the agent’s actions.

No matter. Shaking your head, you kick your heels off and make a beeline for the bathroom. Maybe you needed a bath to clear your mind, so you readied the bathtub with nice, warm water to soak in. Once ready, you don’t waste a single second in stripping your clothes and submerging yourself in the warm water, sighing in relief as your tense body relaxes.

You lean forward to grab the bottle of body wash that was on the shower rack and read the label. The liquid inside was a pretty shade of pink with a little shimmer swirling inside. The label read “Levanter Collection: Sweet Rose Lips” for the name of the product, and the description read, “A softly fragrant rose-scented body wash. Go ahead and pamper yourself with this wash that will leave your skin soft and supple - perfect to kiss if applicable!”

You roll your eyes at the cheesy description, putting the body wash back on the rack.

“Leave your skin soft and supple - perfect to kiss if applicable!”

Kiss. The word echoed in your mind repeatedly.

“Thank you.” Minho suddenly whispers, and it only dawns on you now that he’s mere centimeters away from your face.

He’s so close that you feel his breath mingling with yours, the tips of your noses barely touching. His hands rest at the small of your back, but there’s a certain pressure to his touch as if he was restraining himself from something. Your breathing comes to a stop as does time, and your grip on his broad shoulders tightens. Both your eyes are lidded as you stare at each other; you can tell his eyes have landed on your lipstick-covered lips, and the agent can deduce the same for you - your eyes are definitely caught up in looking at his own lips.

Something in your heart booms - or maybe snaps - and it would seem the same for Minho because he’s leaning closer, eyes now closed as he closes the gap. You shut your eyes as well, preparing yourself for the touch of his lips on yours.

You soon feel the ghosting touch of his lips grazing yours, sending a jolt of electricity up your veins. Then, his lips capture yours, overwhelming your senses like a wildfire that leaves you burning in its wake. Minho hugs you closer and tighter, one hand going up to cup your jaw and stroke the skin there. You relish in how soft his lips are against yours, a beautiful contrast to the roughness of his hands. Your own fingers tangle with his locks, pulling him as close as possible as your lips continue to melt together like slow-moving lava.

You aggressively splash the water in the bathtub, squealing as you cover your face. “That’s not what happened, you dummy!” you reprimand yourself, muffled screaming into your hands.

Your heart is beating two, three, four times faster than usual, and despite the water being lukewarm and almost cold by now, it feels much too hot in the bathroom. You groan and dunk your head in the water before re-emerging with pouty lips. The water drips down your hair and face as you hug your legs to yourself. One hand makes its way to your lips, and you gently brush your fingertips against it.

It was for a brief moment - barely a kiss - when Minho’s lips grazed against yours.

His lips seemed so soft. So tempting. Inviting.

You squeal again, sinking lower in the bathtub until it’s just your nose and above that isn’t submerged in water. With tired and nearly deadpan eyes, you think to yourself, “Get a hold of yourself, Dr. Song.”

“You’ll have to say goodbye when this is all over.”

If this will actually be over.

“In summary, Cle was supposed to transact with Red Wing, a private company that directly supplies manpower and weaponry to a militant group. Their agent attended this gala to give a prototype serum that, as per the papers, is almost complete. In exchange, Cle would be given a large sum of money to mass produce the said serum.” Jung reads the report from Chan, “Is that correct?”

“Yes sir.” the agents reply.

“And according to the papers, the serum that was being sold is a prototype?”

“Prototype 1.” Minho states, “Technically, Cle is reporting the serum as 90% complete.”

Jung sighs, shaking his head, “Are we certain that the transaction didn’t push through?”

Chan nods, his voice sure and firm, “Yes, sir. Jeongin, Minho and I kept our eyes on him the entire evening, and Hyunjin and Changbin tailed him afterwards. No transaction happened.”

The head agent nods in response, an approving look in his eyes. “Did we manage to acquire the serum that was supposed to be sold?” Jung asks.

Minho hums, gesturing his head towards the window in the room, “One bottle. We’ve given the serum to the pick-up team. They’re en-route to HQ as we speak.”

“Good, good. Jisung and Seungmin can start analyzing it.” Jung seems happy, “Oh...Dr. Song is here, is she not?”

Chan tilts his head, “Yes. Why?”

Jung hums, hand on his chin as if he were deep in thought, “It would have been nice to have her return to HQ to help Jisung and Seungmin so we can immediately determine if this prototype serum brings us a step closer to a solution. Where is she now?”

Minho raises an eyebrow and leans against the wall. He remembers you admitting to him that you somehow discovered a semi-solution to negate the serum; though not final, you had admitted that you discovered something of significant use. That you were close to finding the final solution.

Minho doesn’t say a word. Instead, he addresses the head’s question. “She’s asleep by now, I assume.” he starts a bit too protectively, and he doesn’t miss the teasing smirk on Jeongin’s lips, “She was with us the entire night.”

If Jung notices the tone of protectiveness in the agent’s voice, he doesn’t say anything about it. “I see.” Jung nods in understanding, “Well, the most we can do now is just wait. You’re all dismissed. Go get some rest and sleep for the night.”

All the agents excuse themselves and politely bow before leaving Jung’s hotel room. Jeongin, Chan and Changbin go ahead, getting off the elevator to the 10th floor while saying goodbye in between their yawns. Meanwhile, Hyunjin and Minho get out of the elevator on the 12th floor. While walking towards their respective rooms, Hyunjin softly chuckles, “You’re awfully quiet again. Something happen between you and y/n?”

Minho sighs, furrowing his eyebrows as he chooses his words, “I nearly kissed her.”

The long-haired agent gasps, eyes wide with both shock and amusement. If it were possible, there could have been a million stars in his eyes right now. “Oh?” he whistles, “What brought that about?”

Minho groans, sighing as if he had just faced his biggest predicament, “We were dancing in the gala, and we just...talked. Before I knew it, I was...leaning in.”

“And what stopped you from indulging?” Hyunjin asks with curiosity.

“Many things. We’re on a mission...you called and told us the target was captured…” Minho mumbles, “Among others.”

Hyunjin raises an eyebrow, “What are these others?”

“Fear.”

“Oho, the Lee Minho’s afraid?”

Minho glares before deflating into a more tired stance, “You know what I mean, Hyunjin. If I fall, there’s no guarantee I can get back up. Or worse, someone to cushion that fall.”

“Well, isn’t y/n there to make the fall easier?” Hyunjin muses, “Guide you through it? I mean, she’s new to it I’m sure, but the two of you will help each other. I’m positive of that.”

“You really think?”

“You’re not as smart, huh?”

“Hwang Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin laughs, “Ok, ok! I’m just saying…a little change isn’t so bad. Maybe it’s time you cast off that particular ghost - you know what I mean - and find a...better chapter in life.”

Minho looks at his friend with a deadpan expression before breaking out into a small smile, “Who knew you were this poetic?”

“Going undercover in various places has its perks.” Hyunjin laughs before stopping in front of his hotel room door, “Think about it. For the meantime, goodnight!”

“Night.” Minho replies, opening the door next to Hyunjin’s to go inside his own room.

And when Minho strips his clothes off, takes a shower and plops down on bed, he expects to fall asleep right away, especially since his body is so exhausted. He expects to relish in the warmth and softness of the bed and pillows, carrying him over to dreamland. He does not, however, expect to lay still on his back, eyes glued to the ceiling as the darkness of the room washes over him.

[A/N: italics = flashback] / [Warning: suggestive and implied actions, but nothing graphic and explicit at all. Should you still wish to skip this, press CTRL + F (or any command to help you search for words on a webpage) and search “Minho guaranteed that”. You can continue reading from there]

The room was hot. His skin was hot and flushed. Everything was hot, especially her lips on his. They’ve been in this...compromising? Intimate? position for a while now, the woman on his lap, both of them in nothing but their bare skin. She was pressed against him, leaving no space for air to dance in between as he devoured her lips with his own, hands traveling here and there.

“Didn’t you say you were tired from your mission?” Jiyeon laughed as Minho shifted his attention to her neck.

Minho laughed in kind, a playful glint in his eyes, “Yeah, but I have just enough energy for one round.”

“What is this? A video game? Low stamina and health points are going down!” the woman joked around, keeping the mood bright and lively despite the nature of their current actions.

“I have the energy, but I am a bit tired.” Minho smirked, “I think you’ll need to be quiet for a while.”

The man silenced her with hungry kisses, placing her down on the bed as he entered her space. In between the pants and breathless gasps, whispers of love were announced here and there like some proclamation or oath that shouldn’t be forgotten. And by the end of the night, the two figures lay in bed, snuggly in each other’s arms and paying no heed to the sweatiness of their skin.

It didn’t take long for Minho to fall asleep, soft snores escaping his lips. Jiyeon looked at the man with a warm gaze, eyes narrowing as she smiled and stifled a giggle. The woman reached out to gently comb her fingers through the male’s hair - dyed orange at the time - taking her time in getting a feel of the soft locks, almost as if trying to remember what they felt like.

She brushed a few strands away from his face, resting the hand by the male’s jaw. “I really do love you.” she whispered, placing a very quick kiss to his nose.

Jiyeon then got up, gathering the articles of clothing that were on the floor before slipping them back on. Now fully dressed, the woman took her pistol from the bedside drawer and aimed it at the sleeping male. Just about ready to pull the trigger, Jiyeon’s eyes widened for a brief second before she regained her composure.

“If you’re going to pull the trigger, make sure you’ve put your silencer.” Minho said, eyes still closed, “Wouldn’t want Chan and the rest running over here.”

Jiyeon lowered the gun, sighing as if she was very much bummed out, “As expected. Nothing slips past you.”

Minho’s eyes were now open, but he didn’t spare her a glance. Instead, he kept his gaze on his clothes on the floor, an uninterested expression on his face. “We both know I’m not going to engage with you now, so you either kill me or walk away quietly.” he said calmly, but the threat in his voice was powerful.

“If I go, will I see you again?” Jiyeon teased a bit too flirtatiously.

Minho’s expression didn’t waver; stoic and blank, yet a certain inferno engulfed the stars in his galaxy-like eyes. He ran a hand through his already-messy hair before speaking with a poisonous and bitter tone.

“Perhaps.” he started, “But the next time we cross paths, one of us will end up with a bullet in their heart.”

“Didn’t your heart already get hit by a bullet, Lee Minho?” Jiyeon chuckled before tucking her gun back in.

Without another word from either of them, the woman walked out the door, closing it gently.

Minho stared up at the ceiling of his room, not blinking even once as he felt something cool - no, something hot - stream down the sides of his face.

Hot tears of...sadness? No, anger.

Anger and vengeance.

Yes, his heart was hit by a bullet named Jiyeon.

And he was still alive.

Jiyeon was going to get hit by a bullet named Lee Minho, and she would not survive.

Minho guaranteed that.

Minho doesn’t even realize his eyebrows are angrily furrowed until he hears a knock on the hotel room door. Breaking from his trance, the agent sighs as he gets up, cautiously approaching the door. He relaxes only when he hears a soft, familiar voice saying “Minho?”

Opening the door, the agent looks at you inquisitively before asking worriedly, “Y/n? What’s wrong?”

You give him a smile of reassurance, “Oh, nothing serious, don’t worry. Um, I just...wanted to return this.”

You stretch your hand out to give him his suit jacket. Minho chuckles and takes it from you before raising an eyebrow, “You could have just returned it tomorrow.”

“I...might forget.” you chuckle sheepishly, unconsciously tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

The agent smiles fondly, giving your cheek another pinch, “If you missed me, you could have just said so.”

“Who says?” you hit his arm which really doesn’t do anything, “I just wanted to return it before I forget!”

Minho bites his lip to stifle a louder laugh. “You’re still pretty hyper.”

“You’re one to talk.” you glare, reaching up to pinch his cheek as well.

But when you realize what you’ve done - and judging by the twitch of his lips - you freeze and feel your heart drop, legs suddenly weak. Your hand remains in place, your pinch on his cheek loosening but the hand is still there. Minho blinks twice, his own hand slowly coming up to envelope yours. With your hand in his, he pulls it away from his face, poking his tongue in the inside of his cheek.

“I…” you stumble over your words, “I didn’t mean to. Uh...I’m so sorry.”

But Minho ends up erupting in soft laughter, his eyes crinkling in amusement. He lets go of your hand to lightly tap a finger on the tip of your nose. “I think you’re the first person to have had the guts to do that.” he teases, “I’ll admit I’m amused.”

“You’re probably just pulling my leg.” you deadpan.

The male agent shrugs casually, smiling as he speaks, “Maybe. Anyway, shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

You pout, “I was...until I remembered to return the jacket.”

“Ok, fine.” Minho smirks, “Thanks. Now seriously, go get some sleep.”

“Yes, Agent Lee.” you stick your tongue out.

“Hmm. Charming. Real charming.” he deadpans, but not a second later, he’s chuckling.

“You’re the charming one.”

You don’t say that, but you wish you could.

The next day, after the team returned from the previous mission, the agents had set off almost immediately after lunch. Not even stepping foot into the HQ, Minho and the other agent boys had already left for the continuation of their mission. Changbin and Jeongin remained, the older agent going back to the main building while Jeongin headed for the cafeteria for an after-lunch snack. You went to the living quarters to drop some stuff in your room and get changed into more comfortable clothes.

Afterwards, you began your usual walk to the lab department to look for Jisung and Seungmin. You peek into the usual room where the three of you work, but there was no sign of the duo. You hum to yourself, rattling your brain to think of anywhere else they could be.

As you exit the room, Changbin exits another one as well. He sees you and offers a smile, “Heyo.”

“Hi.” you smile, “Have you seen Jisung and Seungmin?”

“No, actually. I was looking for them.” Changbin pouts, and it’s a funny contrast to his buff physique, “Minho asked me to ask them if the results for a serum test came out already…”

“Yeah, I was going to ask them that as well.” you sigh.

The agent then shrugs, a soft chuckle escaping his lips, “Well, seeing as to how those two are probably on break if they aren’t here, you should join them.”

“Aren’t we...still on duty?” you ask cautiously.

“I am.” Changbin pretends to sob, “But technically you aren’t since lab results and tests can take time. Besides, Minho and the rest are still on an ongoing side mission, so either way, we have to wait for them to return to know how to proceed next. For the time being, I think it should be fine to have a day-off.”

“Are you positive? Minho might have my head.” you mumble.

At that, Changbin laughs, “Oh, you’re funny. I like that. Well, Minho can’t do anything about it ‘cause he’s not here. Go and have fun with the younger guys. If you can’t find Jisung or Seungmin, ask Felix to help you locate them!”

“I will, thank you Changbin.” you politely bow.

“No need for that.” he laughs, giving your head a pat, “See you around.”

About 5-10 minutes later, you and Felix locate Jisung and Seungmin in one of the lounge rooms of the living quarters - the one with a swimming pool.

You stare in disbelief before turning to face the freckled agent, “Really? A swimming pool? Is this a government organization or a hotel?”

Felix laughs, his eyes crinkling with amusement, “Come on, y/n! The swimming pool in the training center is to train the agents. This one's for recreational purposes! We agents can get stressed and want to relax when we can, you know?”

“I know…” you stifle a laugh, “I just...wasn’t expecting a whole pool.”

Jisung swims over to the edge and smiles at the two of you, “Care to join us? Those test results you all want are going to take another three hours or so.”

“I’ll just sit here and watch, thanks.” you offer a small smile.

Felix, on the other hand, is already taking his shirt off, enthusiastically happy that he chose to wear sweatpants and not jeans today - wet sweatpants were less of a hassle compared to wet jeans. He jumps into the pool with a splash for an impromptu swimming break. You and Jisung laugh as Felix lets out a loud “whoo!”. Seungmin wades over much calmer compared to the two, hoisting himself up to sit on the pool edge. “Did you guys just get back?” he asks.

“More or less.” you answer, grabbing a chair and sitting on it.

“So,” Jisung wiggles - you presume his butt - in the water and narrows his eyes mischievously, “tell us about the gala! Wasn’t your cover supposed to be lovers with Minho?”

Felix squeals in the background, splashing water like a child. Seungmin has to hold back a snicker as he looks at you expectantly. You’re aware of the fact that your cheeks heat up, but you shoot the boys a glare either way. “How’d you know that?” you ask.

Jisung snickers, “Jeongin told me!”

“Why that…” you mumble under your breath before clearing your throat, “Well, sorry to burst your bubbles, but nothing much happened. Dancing, eating, drinking...that’s it. I barely did anything afterwards.”

Jisung makes a “boo” sound, causing Seungmin to kick at the water and splash him. Meanwhile, Felix raises a question while floating around, “Did you and Minho do anything fun?”

“If you consider dancing as fun, then there you go.” you say, suddenly flashing back to the near-kiss you shared.

Seungmin is quick to notice the reddened flush of your skin, so he smiles innocently and muses, “Hmm? Did you enjoy dancing with Minho, y/n? I wouldn’t blame you. All the girls here have had a crush on him at some point.”

You ignore the pang of jealousy that sizzles in your bones, covering your flustered state with another glare. “I did not.” you defend yourself, crossing your arms, “I swear, it was just nothing.”

Jisung hums excitedly, flailing in the water, “I can tell you’re hiding something!”

“I am not!” you nearly stutter.

“Gee, Minho’s right. You’re a bad liar.” Felix says innocently, earring him a high-five from Jisung.

“Spill it.” Seungmin says with a devious smirk.

You avert your eyes, glancing to the side as you mumble, “He kissed me on the cheek.”

Of course you left out the part where he nearly kissed you on the lips.

With that admission, the three boys yell and cheer, the sounds echoing in the pool room. You look at them surprised, cheeks now redder than ever. Jisung is the first to stop squealing, “I’ve known Minho for so long, and this is the first time he’s done that!”

“Not really.” Seungmin corrects before waving his hand dismissively, “Well, the first time in a while anyway. Looks like the Ice Prince is melting.”

You don’t get to dwell on the implications of Seungmin’s words - implying that Minho acted like that with someone before - because Felix is the next to giddily speak, “Well? Why’d he do that? What happened?”

“He just walked me back to my hotel room. Then...we both said good night, and he just leaned in. It was super fast! You’re all overreacting!” you yell, causing the three to laugh.

“Ohoho. You probably liked it.” Jisung wiggles his eyebrows teasingly, “Ooooh you wanted to kiss him so bad I bet!”

“No I did not!” your face twists in mock-disgust.

“Kissy kissy on the lips.” Felix playfully puckers his lips at you.

Your cheeks are as red as apples, and your ears are burning at the tips. “Felix!” you complain.

“Look at you all shy!” Seungmin teases.

This prompts you to get up from the chair and push him into the pool. He emerges with a laugh, but the three boys soon swim close to the edge and grab your wrist. Jisung smirks, “You have your phone with you?”

“No, I put it on the table there by the - ”

You don’t get to finish because the three of them pull you into the pool, causing you to scream in surprise. When your head emerges above the water surface, hair and clothes all soaked, you pinch each of their ears. “The three of you are so dead.” you grit your teeth, but their cheeky grins are enough to cause you to break into laughter.

“My, my. What children.” Jeongin teases as he arrives at the entrance of the pool room.

“You’re one to talk, you snitch.” you smirk.

Jeongin winks, “Not snitch. I prefer the term ‘wingman’.”

“Where’d you learn to talk like that?”

“...K-drama.”

153 notes · View notes

halinski · 3 years

Text

I have a lot of feelings about Buck, like don't even ask, I will never be able to put it into words or anything other than abstract feelings in this world

I just know this, Eddie loves Buck and Buck is ace and Taylor is a relapse ✌️

"You've been shutting me out."

It's ironic, Eddie thinks, that these exact words come now 20 minutes after the black out, which felt like maybe the world had shut down. They were stuck mid rescue in an elevator and well, the world had been such a whirlwind since he'd been shot, and this emergency and that- but now it had stopped. And they'd succumbed to their fate, sat down on the dingy elevator floor, bathed in a red back up light, the building silent around them. Out there, somewhere, a siren rang, and Buck sighed.

It was deep and heavy, like he was Atlas lifting the world off his shoulders for a break, something like relief, like that first deep shuddering breath when your lungs finally recovered from a run. It was way too heavy for a young man, barely thirty, who was finding himself. Eddie knew that Buck had been fighting lately. Mostly himself, but also his parents and past, and pushing past the boundaries of life that had been set around him. Then there was the shooting and Buck had truly been nerve-wrecked, Eddie was far from blind, and hell, he'd been a little preoccupied with figuring himself out, and recovering, letting go and paving the way for a future with no regrets- but he'd seen Buck. It was harder to look away at this point.

But he had, because the world had been spinning and Buck had been putting enough pressure on himself, becoming an uncle, and taking care of Chris with full abandon, and therapy and... Taylor. Eddie hadn't wanted to push too hard.

Now that they were here though, just the two of them...

Buck's looking at him, that irritated lost puppy stare, vulnerable and defiant all at once, like Eddie was the first to venture into certain spaces that made up Evan Buckley. It was a deliberant choice, at this point. Back in the beginning, he'd just reached out a hand and had been surprised to find an anchor to the world he'd never knew existed, and now he ventured further deliberately.

It hadn't been a question, and even so Buck looked ready to fight him, a last defensive wall, before he caved and those murky blue eyes dropped away. Full submission.

Eddie waited, opening up the room and hoping for his partner in crime and rescue to fill it and yet... Buck only shrugged weakly.

"Things have been..." He started half-heartedly, losing motivation half-way through and concluding with a disheartened, "busy." Eddie watched him busy himself with the callouses on his palm, picking and rubbing, as if he could erase the last few weeks of running himself ragged.

There had definitely been a lot less mentions of calls to Dr. Copeland lately, a lot of unfocused Buck, who was making himself smaller, less noticeable and quieter. Not that he was actually quiet, Eddie knew Buck could fill the building with vibrance for the benefit of everyone around within the blink of an eye. But his true emotions dwindled, where they'd slipped out before in shadows of an action, or an obvious plea hidden in drowning eyes - now he was more... Calculated.

And even now, Buck lifted his head again under Eddie's scrutiny in square-jawed surrender as if that was that to this conversation, there was nothing more to be done.

Eddie was not convinced. They'd gotten way too far, the two of them, to slip back down to the trenches in this mud slide. Eddie had found solid footing in his own world, and he was unafraid right here, under private eyes with the one person in the world he trusted most. Solid enough that he could stare right back at the nervous energy Buck was holding back and dare it.

What are you so afraid?

A question he had asked himself many sleepless nights, especially after Carla's little "follow your heart" speech, after he'd laid in bed, heart racing, hearing shots and all he wanted had been to-

All he'd wanted was safety, and he could've kept lying to himself, could've deliriously shouted at the universe that he didn't know where he could ever feel safe again, and yet his own body and heart had long gone betrayed him that day in the hospital just before he'd walked out, explicitly stating that he had signed his heart off to Buck a year ago. He couldn't even call it betrayal, because there wasn't a single cell in his body that doubted his decision, that doubted Buck. He just doubted... Himself.

And maybe that he'd be enough for Buck right now, still. He was so far from his best self, and yet better and more stable than he'd ever been. So he sat and he stared back, arms resting easily in his lap, and challenged.

"Why do you keep going back to her?"

Goddammit, Eddie, way to sound like the most jealous jerk in the world.

Buck winced, eyebrows seeming to ask 'really?' and 'what do you mean?' all at the same time and then shrugging again.

"Taylor?" He asked simply, biding time probably.

"Yeah," Eddie assured, the hum of the emergency light their only company as he waited for Buck to reply.

"She's the only one who really wants me," he said, but the tone of his voice wasn't right. Unconvinced. The admission to easily offered to ring true.

Eddie can't stop the snort of disbelief from escaping him. From all that he's heard about the rust-haired reporter... He couldn't imagine what Buck saw in her. He'd seen the effect of her words on him, saw Buck fall in line behind her with a bowed head, saw how the hurt now flared in Buck's face at his open faced challenge to that statement.

A part of Eddie wanted to grab Buck by the face and scream at him, can't you see?!

You're wanted whole-heartedly by me.

But Buck wasn't his to love yet, not really.

"Look, I don't know what you see on the outside but... She wants me. She chose me and I- what more could I ask for, you know? I'm... I'm working on it. On myself. And for now- this is it," Buck said, rattling it down like he was trying to work it into a checklist.

Eddie just wanted to know what 'it' was supposed to mean. But he nodded, because in a way it did make sense. The same way Ana had made sense, even though she absolutely didn't and he was glad that was over and he could laugh over that foolish affair now.

People had questioned his change of heart when he broke up with her during recovery, but when they'd realized he truly wasn't heartbroken and backsliding, they had taken it in full stride. A little misstep, no great scars taken (well except for the new bullet hole in his shoulder but that didn't really have anything to do with Ana, it just happened to be a part of the same journey heading toward a joined destination) and here they were at a pit stop.

The silence simmered between them, just somewhere right before the cliff, staggering before the precipice toward their comfort zone. It had always taken a little leap from both sides to get them to where they were today. Buck usually happens to fall into his without thinking much, just because he was ready to throw himself in dangers way or alternatively, rushing in out of sense of duty, and making it seem so, so very easy. The way he had walked into Eddie's house and kitchen, stepped right into his space and said: 'i'm here and I'm owning my mistakes because you're worth it' or something of the sort. All Eddie remembered was the care and the genuine emotion he'd felt and... The realization that he'd finally found home.

"It just feels like... You smile less when it comes to her." Eddie still did't really want to say her name. He wasn't about to go out blaming Taylor for all the times Buck was sad- it was just an observation. It took a lot to get Buck to giving up his smile. He hated that Taylor accepted a watered down version of him; bright, bold, and boasting Buck.

"Do I?" Buck asked, a furrowed crease appearing between his eyebrows, truly confused.

Eddie nodded.

"Relationships are always a compromise," Buck offered with a half-hearted twitch of his shoulder. "You know me. We're both pretty stubborn. We butt heads."

Buck flicked his wrist for a useless gaze at his watch. It made them none the wiser about the state of their rescue.

"Yeah, I know you," Eddie retorted gently. "Though, you do tend to have a point."

He could come up with a million examples. Eager, always ready to show up and make it work, Buck. How many times had he burrowed himself into Eddie's skin already with truths that stuck like thorns until Eddie accepted them into his bones.

All he wanted was to return the favor

The man granted him a small, crooked smile. It was crazy how much so little could mean to one person. Desperate, wounded, isolated Buck.

How Eddie wanted to tell him explicitly 'dont do what I did, kid, don't fall back into and habits at first chance just because you don't think you're worth anything else'- there were reasons why it didn't work in the first place. He'd learned the exact same lesson with Shannon. And God, the way Eddie had dragged Buck with him back then, for safety, as he had ranted to him and searched for the answers, only to make the same damn mistake.

That wasn't his life.

And Taylor wasn't Buck's. And Eddie knew this.

Knew from what Buck had told about her the first time she had been around, and from all that Eddie had heard about Buck's relationship to sex. It had turned into a joke at the station, oh, Buck and his self-diagnosed sex addiction, but Eddie recognized that worried little steeple on Bobby's forehead when he reminded everyone that that one therapist wasn't licensed to work for them anymore. But it went way deeper, didn't it?

Eddie knew about self-destructive behaviors. Not intimately. But he'd learned a lot about PTSD lately and adjacent behaviors. Buck and sex was a self-destructive bomb if he'd ever seen one.

And it was no coincidence that Taylor and Buck's relationship centered around physical intimacy.

Buck showed up where he was wanted or needed. They all knew that.

"Just... Make sure you get what you want too," Eddie said. "Put yourself first."

Cue the bewildered, insecure facial expression. Now and then Eddie wished he could hide Buck from the world. Shield him. For now all he could do was stand by.

"Because you'll always be wanted. Make sure the reasons are right for you. It has to be good for you."

And Eddie wouldn't be leaning so far out the window if Buck were to look him in the eyes and say 'nah it's not like that' but all he did was get quiet. Eddie couldn't leave him sitting like that, rearranging himself to stretch his legs out before they fell asleep and casually leaning his shoulder against Buck's.

"You're a good guy, Buck. You deserve only the best.

If you wanted Buck to hear you sometimes you had to get straight to the point.

Maybe one day Eddie could conquer his fear and say what he really wanted to say.

When they were both ready.

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nhl-stories · 3 years

Text

Don't Write An Elegy (part eight.one) – Ryan Graves

Masterlist

Author’s Note: In the end I couldn't make a decision so I'm giving these two fuckers alternate endings, hopefully one of the two endings satisfies you or maybe both. I don't necessarily condone a NJ Devils cup win, but I'm doing it for the art. Part eight.two coming tomorrow so keep your eyes peeled and thanks to everyone who stuck with me through the end. It would mean the world if you let me know your final thoughts in a reblog, message, ask, carrier pigeon whatever 🧡

Word Count: 2.1k

…Fuck you for playing games with my heart, And keeping me in the dark…

I hadn’t thought about her in months, but it’s harder to keep her off my mind in Yarmouth. The waves scream her name as they crashed on boats in the marina. The streets are covered in her fingerprints.

It would always be her town, too. Probably more than it was mine.

But at this moment, standing in the bed of a truck holding up the Stanley Cup while driving through the town, people chanting my name, it was my town. The whole scene was so surreal it was easier to put Gretchen in the back of mind. Even when I thought I caught a glimpse of her in the crowd by the fishing boats.

A flash of blue made me think I saw her hair whipping in the sea breeze, but when I look over to wave into the crowd there was no blue haired woman waving back. I scanned the street for her face but still nothing.

Just a mirage from my past.

The last time I had seen her was a week after my trade to New Jersey. She had shown up at my front door in Charlottetown, what I would have called our front door just a few weeks prior.

“I know I’m not technically supposed to bring you the papers, but I thought we should talk before it’s all said and done,” she holds up a manila envelope that is clearly filled with the final touches for our divorce.

I stepped aside and let her in, one last time.

We talked for hours about what we thought really happened and what our time apart to think had brought to the surface. Mostly the realization that we’d never quite be on the same page again. No matter how hard we tried we would always be out of sync and really the best thing to do was to cut loose and start fresh; find the thing or person or whatever that made us feel truly happy again.

Despite the months of lead up to that moment it was a hard thing to swallow: finality. We both cried, held each other while we mourned this era of our lives, the only adult life we ever really knew.

We talked about what scared us going forward. The idea of going into the unknown at 26 when most of our friends had gotten that wake up call years before.

She confided that she was afraid she’d never be able to shake her inhibitions enough to really take the leap towards a life she wanted.

I told her I was worried I never actually learned how to flirt because that’s obviously not what I did well while courting her. The way she laughed was something I wanted to record and remember forever; it turned my bones to a warm jelly and I just wanted float in the feeling.

“I’m worried you’ll always have this power over me and I’ll never let anyone get that close again,” I whispered the real truth.

She placed a hand on my knee and looked so deeply into my eyes I know she could see my soul.

“That rose colored hue you’ve always seen around me will fade. Then you’ll realize all the reasons I sucked and that power will fade. You’ll find someone who deserves the kindest, sweetest man on earth.”

She looked down, the intimacy of the moment overwhelming her, “I’m jealous of her already.”

We talked for a few more hours, I wondered how two people who fell so completely out of love could still talk for so long. I guess history can hold a lot of broken things together.

Then we fucked.

At the time I would have said we made love one last time, but in actuality it was just white-hot passion. Just two bodies becoming one.

We had talked out all our emotions and lust was all that was left, the physical attraction. I didn’t even think I was capable of sex without emotional attachment but that night proved otherwise.

I woke up the next morning in an empty bed. Signed divorce papers on the bedside table and a framed wedding photo missing.

I hadn’t heard from her since. For all I know she isn’t even in Yarmouth anymore. In the early days there was some drunken internet stalking, checking to see who was winning the divorce. The real answer was both of us, but deep down there’s some satisfaction in seeing an ex suffer a little.

Like always she was an enigma. Her social media was mostly a series of blurry photos that could be anywhere. She was never tagged in other people’s posts, never left a geotag or any hint of how she was doing.

I never dwelled too long on thoughts of her. Until today.

Adrenaline and excitement pumps through my veins, but coming back to Yarmouth to celebrate means thinking about all the time Gretchen told me this would happen. Even when I didn’t believe in myself, she’d point down the main drag of town and tell me that I’d be lifting the cup there one day.

It’s hard to completely forget where you came from.

The day goes by without a sighting.

Then I see her.

She’s standing across the way from me at my cup party. I definitely hadn’t seen her before; her hair is now an inky black color. I wonder if it’s her natural color, I can’t remember what it looked like. As she sways in light, blue undertones begin to show, it seems more like her. I’m glad to see she hasn’t completely changed.

I should be angry; I want to be angry. She hid things and lied and pushed me away and basically pulverized my heart. She wasted a decade of my life. But I spent a long time being mad at her, thinking ‘fuck you’ every time she crossed my mind.

After a while it felt stale to dwell on it. My mom’s words would start to float through my brain, ‘you got to feel a love that a lot of people never get to experience in this life. So, don’t think of it as a failure just cherish it.’ Once the words really sunk in, I stopped hating her quite as much. I finally started to open my heart again.

She’s clearly debating whether or not she should come up to me before we make eye contact. Then she smiles and even if I don’t want to, I feel something warm and gooey in my stomach, the power she has isn’t quite as strong, but it’s still there.

“Congratulations, I’m so proud of you!”

She throws herself at me and I stumble back, trying to balance as I catch her. I think she decided to just go for it before she could second guess the physical contact,

“Uh, thanks it’s really cool,” I respond lamely

She smirks, “yeah- uh- it’s cool? That’s how you’re going to react, you’re a Stanley fucking Cup Champion.”

She slaps my chest playfully, maybe this isn’t as awkward as I’m making it in my head.

“Really there’s no words to describe how crazy it is, like everything’s been a blur since we won.”

I look down and notice her ring finger, a gravestone tattoo still very much there, she must catch me staring.

“I just added the dates 2013-2021,” she holds up her hand and sure enough etched in a tiny font are the birth and death dates of our marriage.

“That’s fucking morbid,” I chuckle.

Her eyes flick to my own ring finger, the tanline faded away long ago, any reminder of our marriage gone.

She shrugs, “I couldn’t justify covering it up just because I can, I want to replace it with something good.”

We’re dumbly smiling at each other, not quite sure how to navigate this encounter.

“What are you doing here?” I finally break our trance, a little to curtly.

“Oh. Your mom invited me.”

“My mom?”

“Don’t worry she doesn’t talk to me all the time or anything, she just let me know about it last time I was in town. But if you don’t want me to be here, I can head out. I just wanted to say congrats.”

“Well, I–“ I’m cut off by an arm wrapping around my waist.

“Sorry, I know you’re mid-convo, just haven’t seen you in a bit.”

The tall brunette gives me a kiss before turning to Gretchen who doesn’t seem to be phased at all.

“You must be Emily,” Gretchen smiles and holds out her hand, an array of new tattoos coming into view as the sleeve on her dress rides up her arm, “his mom talks about you a lot, I’m Gretchen Graves.”

Emily shakes her hand not sure who she’s talking to, probably assuming it’s some cousin. Gretchen beats me to the punch on intros while I’m still processing the last name, “I’m the ex-wife.”

Emily is a little flustered, she knows I have an ex-wife but didn’t think she would meet her. Especially since we’ve been together for less than a year and my divorce is still fresh. I feel bad that I clearly didn’t mention this as a possibility.

“Don’t worry, our relationship blew up spectacularly, I’m just here as an estranged friend, or really just a proud hometown bystander.”

Gretchen’s spell works as usual and I can feel Emily loosen up a bit, her grip seems a bit less protective, less territorial.

“But you kept my last name?”

“My maiden name is Cockburn. In what world would I give up a sick alliteration to go back to that? If I had to hear one more joke about how Gretchen will make your Cockburn I think I would have killed myself.”

I smile at the memory. Of high school Gretchen telling off dumb jocks by saying if their real goal was to sleep with her why would they make STD jokes about her. I guess the thick skin comes with the territory with a name like that.

“So, there were ulterior motives for marrying me,” I smirk, it’s still so easy to talk to her.

“You know it, get that visa, get that last name.”

“So… how have you been?”

“Good, I live in Los Angeles now.”

“Really? Wow.”

“It’s only been for six months or so, I got a job as a session musician at a recording studio. The job is fun but I fucking hate LA.”

I can’t help but laugh, I know I should probably move on and talk to other people, there’s a crowd of people who I haven’t really caught up with, but everyone also seems to be giving us our space, they know we haven’t talked. And they probably want to witness any town drama that might arise from this moment.

“I mean, I like being by the ocean again, but I’m too Canadian for it; I need some cold.”

“Are you seeing anyone?” I don’t know why I ask; I don’t think I actually want the answer, especially in front of my new significant other.

“No one important,” she shrugs.

There’s a bit of a pause, a moment that reminds us we’re not lovers anymore, not even friends; that despite everything we’ve been through we’re merely acquaintances and this is a natural end to our conversation.

“I’d ask you the same questions but,” she gestures to the Cup and then to Emily.

I politely chuckle before the silence settles in again.

“I’ll get out of your hair, just wanted to say I’m really proud of you.”

She starts to turn away with an awkward wave, “Do you want to drink out of the Cup? I know it’s on your bucket list.”

She gives me that smile again, the one that’s clearly reserved for me until the end of time. Under the twinkle lights my mom has strung up Gretchen looks like the woman I married, nervous but sure. My heart aches for a moment, a reminder of the decade of love lost.

When I begin the tip the cup towards her lips her hand brushes mine and there’s no electric current. The blood in my veins doesn’t go into hyperdrive. Proof I really survived this heartbreak.

When I set the cup back down, the smile is back, she gives me a quick, awkward hug. My eyes follow her until she disappears amongst the crowd.

I look over to Emily, someone I can see myself growing old with even after such a short time. Maybe I just fall in love too quickly. But Emily is kind and open and warm in ways you have to be born with, in ways you can never learn no matter how hard you try.

Gretchen was my soul mate for a time, but Emily could be my soul mate, too. And I was ready to find that all-consuming love again. And despite my better judgement, the tiny part of me that still loves Gretchen, hopes she can find it too.

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touyasthembo · 3 years

Text

Hide, go and seek.

Keigo Takami/Fem!Reader

Rating: M

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: Oral (reader receiving), some slight dubcon(?), branding, knifeplay (technically?), creampie, breeding kink, degradation, praise, kind of mean!keigo, keigo fucks himself stupid, overstimulation, lil bit of predator/prey, one (1) spank, fearplay, slight dumbification, slight possessiveness, lil bit of bloodplay, some sweetness mixed in.

Notes: My first ever piece of smut that I’ve posted! Hope you guys enjoy, lots more on the way.

🌒🌒🌒

Keigo’s week has been nothing but work on top of work on top of work, hellacious and taxing, he’s rapidly coming towards his wit’s end, feeling like he’s about to snap at any given moment. You are his only reprieve, the only good in his life. He loves you so very much. Which is why he feels guilty for wanting to take it all out on you.

You, his sweet little girlfriend. You guys had been experimental in the bedroom, plenty times, certainly. He’d often made use of his unholy amounts of stamina and railed you well into the morning until you were crying, shaking, on the verge of passing out, he’d marked you up, spanked you, done all sorts of things.

Lately, his mind has been going to, well, darker places, admittedly. Some little feral avian part in his brain delights in the idea of “hunting” you down and claiming you, biting you and bruising you up in colors of his name, sinking his claws that itch to grab you into your flesh until you’re lined with the pretty little crescent shaped markings that are his everywhere.

Maybe digging the tip of a sharpened feather into your skin, watching the blood ooze out so he can lap it up, taste the coppery flavor of you on his tongue.

The strangest thing is, he isn’t even remotely close to a rut. He chalks it off to being overworked and stressed out, wanting a physical way to get rid of all of the negative emotions brewing inside of him.

His patrol is almost over, moon looming over the dark city, bright and beautiful as he pulls out his phone, hands shaking a bit with the motion, opening up the messages and immediately tapping on your name.

keigo baby💘 : turn off all of the lights in the apartment and hide.

Little dove🕊: what? why? is something going on I should know about?

keigo baby💘 : i’m not asking.

When your eyes rove over the texts, you feel your heart pound in your chest, thunderously loud in your ears as you immediately do as you’re told, almost tripping over your own feet every couple of seconds as you do, until your entire apartment is drenched in darkness and you’re standing in the middle of the living room, mind desperately trying to figure out where to hide.

One of the curses of having such an open and modern apartment is that there aren’t many places you can think of. You realize your only safe bet is in your closet, under the pile of clothes. You run inside, trying to close the door behind you as silently as possible, before burrowing under the pile of clean yet-to-be folded clothes, holding your breath when you hear the sliding door that goes out to the balcony slowly open, followed by the sound of slow methodical bootsteps.

Surely, you reason, that’s Keigo? Then why had he…?

You hear doors in the apartment open, shut, then more bootsteps going further away, then coming closer, you realize he’s systematically going through every single possible hiding space. You’re going to be found in no time. The question is, what happens next?

You hear your shared room’s door slowly creak open, followed by heavy footfalls, the sounds of him rustling through things, opening the other smaller closet, looking under the bed, under the covers, until the footsteps come right up outside your door. You feel your heart leap into your chest, trying to breathe as lightly as you can without passing out.

He yanks the door open without much grace, the sound it makes causing you to yelp, muffled under the clothes pile. You feel his hands reach in and pull you out, and when you look up at him you’re left slightly mortified, just the slightest bit of fear coursing through you.

The only thing illuminated in the dark is his eyes, yellow sharp and piercing, pupils fat as he looks down at you, his prey, his prize. They look wild, bordering on unhinged as he grins widely at you in satisfaction, pearly white teeth with sharp canines glinting in the low light the moon offers, slightly obscured through the window.

“Got you,” He rasps, voice impossibly deep as you look up at him in fear, wonderment, a strange sort of dark aura surrounding him and encapsulating you as well as you sit on your knees in front of him.

“K-Keigo, what’s going on?” You squeak, swallowing nervously as he continues to stare you down with his intense, intimidating yellow glare, looking so very pleased with himself at his catch.

“That’s not important right now, sweetheart, just let me do what I need to do, okay?” He murmurs, voice deceptively saccharine sweet, dripping with malice as he manhandles you up, then tosses you on the softness of your bed, illuminating you in the whitish blue of the moonlight pouring through your uncovered window.

He coos at your terrified expression, gloved hand reaching up and petting your cheek sweetly, other unoccupied hand reaching up to your little nightshirt, fingers curling around the bottom of it as he tugs, until you’re left in just your bra.

You’d be lying if you said whatever’s gotten into him isn’t making you incredibly aroused, feeling yourself start to get wet under his predatory gaze, which roves over your nearly uncovered chest.

“Keigo! Slow down, and tell me what’s- f-fuck,” You moan, as he abruptly pulls down the cup of your pretty little baby blue bra, immediately latching onto one of your newly exposed nipples and sucking harshly, tongue lapping at the sensitive bud as his other hand pinches the other one, appreciatively squeezing the fat of your tit as he does, enjoying the give it has in his palms.

You’re whimpering now, squeezing your legs together in search of friction while he hums softly, in between ravenous sucks and licks, alternating between both tits until they’re both wet and sticky with his saliva, his eyes never leaving yours, still with that same unhinged, borderline eerie gaze.

“Sensitive,” You mewl when he pinches a little too hard. He laughs in response to your pathetic little plea, pinching even harder and biting down on the one that he’s currently sucking on. You yelp, hips bucking into his.

His other hand shoots down, pinning your hips to the bed as his gaze turns dark, toeing the line of furious.

“You’ll take what I give you and nothing more, am I fucking clear?” He hisses, baring his teeth at you, fingers digging in harshly when you don’t answer quickly enough, yelping out a “yes, I’m sorry!” in response that he seems to approve of, returning back to his previous task of torturing your poor chest.

When he gets bored of doing that, he shoves your flimsy little blue shorts down, tossing them somewhere away as he harshly pries your legs apart, gazing openly down at your wet, panty clad cunt lecherously.

“You got your poor dumb little pussy so fucking wet over me playing with your tits, huh, little slut?” He hisses appreciatively as he thumbs your clit, making you jerk with the suddenness of it, feeling so sensitive from the slight contact, he takes the hand he’d just been teasing you with, pulling his leather glove off with his teeth and bringing it back, bare, against your twitching pussy.

His thumb rubs in teasing little circles through your pale blue panties, not going nearly fast enough to get you to the edge, but it still makes you ache, still makes goosebumps rise all over your sensitive body, nipples hard and neglected in the cool night air as he laughs derisively at your little needy display.

“‘M not a slut, Keigo,” You whine, fighting the urge to grind back into his touch, lest he reprimand you again. Your actions say otherwise, you know, your face heats at how you’re acting, embarrassed with how desperate you are for him to touch you. You’d be lying if you said his words weren’t turning you on even more, even if they do sting a little.

“Oh, but you are, my pretty little slut,” He purrs, using the usually degrading name as a sort of backhanded praise, it leaves you reeling every time he says it, in conjunction with his thumb swirling around your little throbbing clit.

You’re soaking through the soft cotton of your panties, he eyes the wet spot with a rapt sort of hunger, as he licks his lips, roughly yanking the fabric down your legs, until it’s hanging off your foot, which is dangling off the bed.

“Oh, fuck,” He says airily, sounding a bit wrecked himself as he sees firsthand how drenched you’ve gotten just from him just barely touching you, his words. You squirm, embarrassed by his entranced gaze on your dripping pussy, how he’s just staring at you without touching you.

He lunges forward, immediately targeting your poor, oversensitive clit, sucking and licking, lapping you up like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever had the honor of tasting, the noises of him feasting on you nothing short of obscene, wet, slick sounding, you let out a high keen.

The broad of his tongue laps through your wet puffy folds, the taste of your slick on his tongue only making him feel more aroused, head getting even hazier with every little whimper and mewl he makes you let out, how messy you are, all for him.

“Fucking messy, god, you’re so wet,” He moans into you, the vibrations of his voice against you making you buck into his face, the feeling of his stubble on your inner thighs ticklish, only adding to the overstimulation he’s rapidly hurtling you towards.

You’re dripping down his fucking chin, he realizes with a snarl, amplifying his efforts to make you cum, wanting nothing more than to hear you cry out his name repeatedly from the intensity alone, to announce to the world that he’s the only one that can make you feel this good, make you cum this hard. Nobody else would ever, could never compare.

Your eyes are tearing up as you hiccup, hands fisting in his unruly golden hair as you beg for him to slow down, speed up, babbling nonsense at this point as he devours you.

“Yeah? Gonna cum for me? Gonna cream on my tongue, little dove?” He goads, parting from you with a wet translucent string of both your arousal and his saliva, licking it up without so much as a second thought as he admires how wrecked you are, unshed tears glittering in your eyes.

“Yes, please, please, let me cum, let me- ghkk,” You garble as he shoves his long thick fingers in your mouth, telling you firmly to suck, which you immediately obey.

Hollowing out your cheeks as your eyes flutter shut, the combination of his fingers fucking into your mouth as you lick and suck around his invading digits, his tongue fucking into your pussy, flitting up to pulse around your clit, sends you hurtling over the edge as you cum, hard, with a muffled wail.

He parts from your still clenching cunt, panting heavily as the bottom half of his face drips with your release, his tongue lapping up as much as it can, before he crawls up the length of your body to slam his lips against yours, tongue immediately invading your mouth and twining with yours, sharing the taste of your arousal with you.

You moan weakly into his mouth, the force of your orgasm making you see little stars behind your closed eyelids, he responds with soft little noises, grumbling in the back of his throat. In hindsight, you’re incredibly foolish for thinking that was the end of it, that he’d gotten what he wanted and was completely satisfied.

When he parts from you with a little wet smooch, far too sweet considering how aggressive he’d been, your heavy lidded eyes open to the sight of his amber eyes, narrowed now into little slits as he stares you down once more, you realize you’re not entirely out of the woods yet.

He summons a long crimson feather to his left hand, twirling it between his fingers as he watches your face for every little microexpression. His cock twitches in his pants when he sees the slightest hint of fear enter your pupils.

“You always told me my feathers are so pretty, wanna put that to the test, little love? Want me to mark you up nice and good, gorgeous, all for me?” He hums, tickling under your chin with the soft plumed crimson end of it, tilting his head at you. He already knows what you’re thinking, truly he doesn’t even need to ask.

You gulp, he grins, one large strong hand flipping you over onto your tummy, gripping your wrists together as he hums a little song in his throat, practically purring at the sight of your ass, bare in the moonlight in front of him.

He winds a long arm back, smacking it harshly just to see it jiggle, releasing a low groan of approval when it does, the sting of it making you grind back against his leg that’s snuck its way in between your slicked thighs.

He lets you, but moves it back just the slightest bit so that the pressure wouldn’t be enough for you to cum again.

When you feel the sharp poke of his feather against the tender skin of your ass, you whimper, muffled by the bedsheets underneath you, stiffening in anticipation. He puts more pressure, you feel your skin start to give, toes curling as you realize he truly does intend to cut you with the sharp end of his feather.

The pain is low, throbbing, when he finishes each little section of whatever it is he’s cutting into your skin, you feel blood bead at the surface of your skin, dripping down the side of your throbbing cheek, to your mortification he leans down and laps it up before it can stain your sheets, humming at the taste in his mouth.

It’s another couple of seconds until he’s done, admiring his handiwork as you shake and writhe underneath him, your ass throbbing with a dull sort of ache as he finally relinquishes your wrists, letting you stand back up. He drags you over to the mirror, then turns you around.

Across your left ass cheek, is his name, written in his handwriting, branded into your skin. Loftily, you wonder if it’ll scar, wobbling a little, still a bit dizzy from your previous orgasm.

“So pretty,” He praises, admiring the raised lines that spell out ‘K E I G O’ across the globe of your ass. He’d made it very compact, neat, thankfully, something that could be hidden, but he’d always know it was there, that he’d been the one to mark you.

He comes in closer behind you, until you feel the hard still clothed bulge of his cock grinding against your freshly branded ass, murmuring appreciative little sweet nothings in your ear, followed by sweet little kisses, nibbles and licks to any exposed skin he can find, targeting your neck and ear specifically.

“Now that I’m finished with that, it would be a shame to leave my cock this hard and unattended to, don’t you think?” He cooes, voice like liquid velvet to your foggy brain, sucking little marks into the tender skin of your neck as he slowly walks the two of you back to your bed, arm wrapped protectively around your waist.

He coaxes you onto the bed with sweet lilting words, promising he’s gonna make the pain all worth it, all better as soon as you take care of him, your brain greedily lapping up his words, which are interspersed with praise.

“You’re so good for me, my little dove, so obedient,” He purrs, once again maneuvering you with rough hands until you’re once again on your stomach on your shared bed. You can hear the metal clinks of him undoing his belt, fabric shifting followed by a low groan as you hear the unmistakable sounds of him working his cock, feeling his eyes burn into the brand he’d made on you.

You feel his thick tip press against your soaked little hole, his hands on your hips, squeezing at your flesh appreciatively, as he nudges your entrance, not thrusting in yet. You attempt to grind back, but the strength of his grip on your hips immediately halts the action before it can even start.

You’re sweating, your thighs are quivering in anticipation, heart pounding in your chest as you make little desperate sounds, hoping that will be enough for him. He seems to be in a particular mood tonight, however, his silence and lack of action is deafening, only serving to make you more desperate for his cock, for praise, degradation, anything, you just needed him.

You didn’t care if your ass stung or your body felt a bit boneless, or if your breath is coming in staccato little pants, you just want the familiar stretch, heat of him inside of you, fucking into you until you feel whole again. Fucking you until your mind goes dumb with pleasure and you’re drooling into the bedding below you, sobbing his name.

“Please, Keigo, wan’ your fat cock to stretch me out, ruin me, fuck me stupid, I love it so much, please,” You slur, turning your head to the side, so your words aren’t muffled by your bedsheets, desperate fat wet tears starting to run down your face as you hiccup.

He coos with faux sympathy, leaning down to catch one on his tongue, the wet taste of salt on his tongue.

“Yeah? You want this cock? This cock’s the only one that can stretch you out so good, leave you sore for days, huh little dove?” He murmurs, the faux sympathy entering his voice too as he rocks himself against your dripping little cunt, still rubbing the head against your twitching hole. He slaps it against your clit for good measure, relishing in the little squeak he gets in response.

You nod rapidly, tongue feeling heavy in your mouth, eyes glittering with more unshed tears. He looks positively elated at the state you’re in, smirking smugly down at you as his sharp avian eyes gaze all around your teary eyed, warm little face, cheek slightly squished by the bed underneath you.

“When you look this fucked out when I’ve only made you cum once, how can I deny?” He whispers, a slow sadistic grin rising on his face as he suddenly lurches forward, shoving the entirety of his thick cock inside of your wet hole all at once.

You squeal at the sudden intrusion, writhing under him as he presses all of his body weight against you, intending to fuck you into the bed with it. He’s so thick inside of you, stretching you out, bordering on painful even though you’ve taken him so many times now, you can feel him throb at the little pants and gasps that escape your mouth.

“Fuck! Nngh, Kei-go, feels so good inside,” You sob, clawing at the sheets beneath you, the pain subsiding into pleasure as he very graciously lets your walls adjust to his thickness, the length of him, a little, anyways, before he completely starts ruining you.

“Mm, know it does, fuck you’re so tight, your pussy was made for me, you know,” He grunts, mouth open as he pants, a bit like a dog at the feeling of your tight wet walls squeezing his cock, nearly a vice grip.

Sweat rolls down his temple as he fights the urge to start pounding into you, he’d already pushed it by shoving it all in at once, he didn’t actually want to cause you any more pain than strictly necessary, by his standards. Besides, you’d been so good for him, only disobeying him once, he deemed the brand on your ass a fitting punishment.

When he feels you trying to rock back against him, goad him into fucking you, he laughs, mocking and deceptively sweet in your ear as he lifts up your head by your neck, long fingers winding around it.

“So desperate for me to make you my little cocksleeve, huh, angel?”

“Don’t test your luck, you’ll get fucked when I’m good and ready, so be patient, ok? Just wanna enjoy your tight little cunt clenching around me.” You don’t miss the threat in his words, wondering exactly what the next step up from a literal brand would be.

But you listen, obedient, enjoying the sensation of his lips pressing against your sweaty face, tongue lapping up the salt he finds on your warm cheek, before moving down to your neck and suckling against the skin he finds there.

He noses against it, the tenderness mixed with how harshly he’s been marking you swirling through your head in an intoxicating mix of love and lust you feel for him. Suddenly, you find yourself itching for a kiss.

“Kei, kiss please,” You beg, reduced to barely coherent sentences as you turn your face to look back at his, pleadingly, eyes wide and glassy, still full of unshed tears.

How desperate you look, your eyes longingly begging him, your shaky little voice asking him for something so sweet makes his heart ache, through all the haze, the need to completely dominate you and make you his, over, and over, it makes him feel soft inside, his expression cracking from intimidating, to something softer, love-struck.

He obliges, leaning forward and pressing his lips against yours, licking into your mouth with slow, languid kisses, despite all of the fervor and heat he puts into them, you can feel he’s telling you how much he loves you, how grateful he is for you.

The room is filled with the wet sounds of you kissing, him grinding his cock against your sopping folds and against your eager hole as he slowly withdraws, before slamming into you harshly once more.

The once slow, sensual kisses turn fervid, as he bites and nibbles at your lips, tongue completely plundering your mouth as he loses himself to his base instincts to dominate, breed once more.

His pace is nothing short of punishing, swollen cockhead pounding against the spot deep inside of you that makes you see stars, your pussy dripping copious amounts of your slick, so much so that it pools at the bottom of the sheets, down his heavy balls that are rapidly slapping against the sensitive newly carved skin of your ass.

The arm that isn’t wrapped around your waist, keeping you upright in a position so that he can kiss you, reaches down and rubs against your clit, greedily swallowing the muffled moans and mewls you make in his mouth as he continues ravaging you, feeling him throbbing inside of you, hearing the wet sounds you’re making around his cock, wet clicks and sloshes as he grunts and snarls into your messy kiss.

With every pass of the pads of his fingers over your oversensitive clit, pleasure rushes through you, up your spine and down into your toes, that curl with the overwhelming feeling, his expert fingers matching the punishing pace of his thrusts.

“Keigo-oh-oh,” You moan as he bounces you atop his cock, the motion making your words elongate, pleasure making your eyes roll back into your head, mouth flopped open as you drool, until he guides your head back to his with the strong grip of his hand, kissing you once more as the muffled sounds of your moans and his grunts fill the room, followed by the rapid sound of skin on skin as he continues fucking into your drenched pussy.

His wings span out behind him, crimson and beautiful in the dark, some of the feathers ruffling with the force of his oncoming orgasm, he can feel it, practically able to taste the ecstasy that’s going to overload his senses when he finally does, feeling you clench around his hard, throbbing length.

He knows you’re close too. He can feel you tightening around him, feel the vibrations of your increasing moans against his lips as he kisses you, over and over, fingers rubbing tight quick little circles over your sensitive throbbing clit until he feels you pulse around him, a high little keen escaping you as you part for air, gasping and releasing little sobbing heaves of breath with the force of your orgasm, immediately sending him over the edge with you.

With a loud, drawn out moan of pleasure, he slumps against you, all but crushing you underneath his weight as his cock spurts his hot, thick cum inside your battered walls, feeling you pulse weakly around him in response, moaning out yourself in the relief the warmth offers you, his wings arching outward, spanning out to their full length as he shivers and whines.

He’s never cum this much before, still releasing soft little moans as he ruts inside of you, cock still hard and twitching, filling you to the brim with his warm sticky white cream, mumbling incoherently something about “making sure it takes” as he does.

“G’nna breed you, gonna knock you up, fill you with my brood, make sure you’re mine forever,” He slurs, face flushed red and yellow eyes unfocused, weakly moaning with every little rut against your backside, sliding back in forth in your pussy, eyes rolling back into his skull as he continues on babbling, feeling him get harder inside of your sore little pussy with every word.

“Gotta cum inside you again ‘n again, gotta breed you, fuuuck,” He groans, speed increasing inside you as he gets desperate once more just from the little fantasies playing out in his head.

You whimper with overstimulation, as the head of his cock once more batters against your sweet spot, the wet squishy sounds it makes as it thrusts in and out even more obscene with the added cum inside of you acting as lube, dripping out of you and making a little puddle on the bed beneath you.

He’s growling now, sinking his sharp teeth into your shoulder, between the junction of your neck, biting down hard as he pounds into you once more as you writhe and mewl beneath him, his long thick fingers once more rubbing against your abused oversensitive clit.

“Take it, god, gonna cum, gonna breed your little cunt!” He snarls as he cums once more, pressed up against the plush thick ring of your cervix, shooting more ropes of his warm milky white seed into your fertile little womb as he pants, shaking with rare overexertion, some of his feathers shooting off somewhere into the room with the force of it.

Something about the idea of him breeding you seems to have taken everything out of him, you think as he watches his cum seep out of your tender little hole, fucking it back in with his long, thick fingers, then he reaches out for you, tugging you against him so he’s spooning you.

He peppers you with kisses, weakly murmuring praise, telling you how good you’d been for him, how proud he was of you, how gorgeous you looked covered in sweat with his cum dripping out of your sweet little pussy, all for him, how pretty you’d look swollen with his brood, tummy round and stretched.

“I’d take such good care of you, promise. God you’re so gorgeous, I love you,” He moans, shaky arms wrapped around you, still immersed in his little fantasy, feeling him hard against your back once more, knowing with relief he’s still too weak from his last orgasm to do anything yet.

You’d at the very least get a couple hours of rest before he’d continue on, insatiable with the need to claim you over and over until the first rays of morning light filtered through your window.

#keigo takami smut #hawks smut #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader

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kiatheinsomniac · 3 years

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Unwoven Fate VIII

"Templar spy!"

She knew better than to escape his grip: it could only make her look guilty.

"Stop this, now!" Ezio exclaimed, looking around at all of the recruits. "You," pointing to Anna, "give that here and you-" now pointing to Emilio, "-get up." He took the broach from Anna and sat down at the table with the pigeon cage.

"(Y/n), come here and explain yourself." It took her a moment to realise that Emilio was off her now and she could actually lift herself from the floor, the shock of the attack just clearing up. She took a seat on the bench opposite him, watching him push her aunt's broach across the table before her. "Why do you have a templar pin?"

She had been told that the Templar's symbol was a red cross during her training but knowing that the Pope was one too had led her to assume it was a cross shaped like the church's one. She had not actually thought to check that she was right in believing this.

"I thought the Templar cross would be shaped like Christ's. My aunt gave me. . ." She felt all of her guts drop inside of her body, fingers beginning to tremble as realisation dawned on her, her lips quivering with a loss for words. Emilio was yelling at her now, she wasn't too sure what, his words less important than her current train of thought.

Suddenly so many things fit together. She had wanted answers but she didn't want this. She wanted a different answer. She ran in her head all of the other possible alternatives but none of them fit as well as what was staring her in the face. That feeling was back now: that pain of such hurt and betrayal that it felt physical, like her organs being torn from her chest.

That goddamn broach.

"-And she's going to get us all killed!" She finally heard Emilio who had slammed his fist down on the table next to her.

"Stop fucking yelling at me!" She finally snapped, whipping her head around to scream this at him, making everyone in the room jump. Her eyes were tearing up now and she realised that she had stood when she yelled. She struggled to keep her breaths even as she glanced back down to that broach, snatching it up in her hands and storming towards the stairs again.

"(Y/n), get back here!" Ezio called but she ignored him. She had learned that she could make irrational decisions when she was this upset; she had got lucky in running away but this time she could make the wrong choice and she wanted to avoid that. She needed to be away from questioning glares and the yelling of the recruits like Emilio.

Said recruit then grabbed her arm to prevent her from leaving but she kicked his legs out from under him, sending him winded to the floor this time. She broke out in a run, feeling the tears pool in her eyes as she made her way to the north-western part of the city.

It was sundown by the time she finally stopped. She had been running and running for hours, feeling her feet blister and her muscles burn. She didn't want to stop running over Rome's roofs, didn't want to give herself a moment to think, to feel.

When she finally stopped, the last rays of sunlight were slipping down over the horizon. Rich pinks and purples drowned out the final burning orange rays of the sun, themselves being smothered by a black sky that was dotted with stars and patched with thin clouds.

She finally collapsed atop some ruins, looking down at those left in what remained of the Roman bathhouse. She panted for breath, feeling her sweat make her clothes stick to her uncomfortably. She brought her legs up to her chest, suppressing the urge to cry out, to scream so loud that her family in the Tuscan countryside could hear it. Instead, she broke out sobbing.

Her parents had been Assassins, this she knew for a while now. But suddenly so many things made sense. All of her uncle's meetings in his office full of red-crossed banners, the reason why her aunt ordered for (Y/n)'s parents to be killed, why her mother had lied about her past.

Her mother had been born to a family of Templars and fell in love with an Assassin. She had left her family and joined her lover in his battle to protect free will. She felt the need to lie to the rest of the Brotherhood about her past in order to protect herself from suspicion when her loyalties had truly shifted. Her aunt had ordered their murder because she was a Templar who had to get rid of the Assassins who would stand in her way because Emma knew everything about them. It was kill or be killed.

The war between Assassin and Templar had killed her family. Not class prejudice - not a dispute between sisters - war had killed her parents.

She smeared her tears from her cheeks and eyes, feeling some gathered at her chin. She no longer felt bad that earlier that day, she had thought of killing her aunt and uncle. She wanted them to die. Her life had been turned upside down by a war that was hidden from her until recently, she had been lied to for years and years and years.

She had to lay down, pulling her hood up to rest against the hard stone. She needed to rest, her body yearned for it after the last few physically and emotionally exhausting hours. She rested her head on her arms and passed out there on the stone.

⚜⚜⚜

She didn't know what the time was when she woke, only that it was dark still. She wasn't sure if it was the same day or if she had slept through all of that day's sunlight.

What she did know, however, was how stiff she felt upon waking up. She stretched her aching limbs and looked down at the ruins below her, making her way to the edge so that she could peer down. She carefully climbed down, her body crying in protest at the strain on her muscles. She decided that she would simply walk the streets to get back to the hideout, keeping her hood up and sticking to the shadows to avoid unwanted attention. She was so tired that she felt like she was sleepwalking, like someone else was controlling her movements as she simply focused on staying awake, on staying numb to what she had discovered in order to avoid another outburst.

She sighed when she finally reached the stairs of the hideout, making her way down to the main hall and planning on heading straight to her room. She wanted to sleep. She couldn't think if she was asleep, she couldn't be hurt by her reality anymore.

She had only taken a few steps into the room when a voice almost made her leap out of her skin:

"You're back." She looked back to the table to see Ezio. He had waited for her return.

"I'm sorry. . . I needed to get away. . ." She murmured as she kept her eyes down, not wanting to see his expression. He remained silent, a gesture for her to continue. "Everyone was yelling at me or interrogating me and I couldn't take it. I couldn't take the fact that-" She could feel the tears again, biting down on her cheek while thanking her beaked hood for hiding her face, "-that they're Templars. My parents were killed - I was kidnapped - by Templars. Everything finally made sense, just like I wanted it to but it's not what I wanted." She shook her head and felt her voice waver. "This war killed them and it stole my life from me, and I didn't even know it! With my family, I was always who I was told to be, never given room enough to become my own person. The moment I ran away that changed but I'm still figuring everything out and it's too much. I want things to slow down." A sob escaped her lips.

"Come, sit down." He offered and she listened, sitting opposite him and resting her head in her arms, taking slow breaths to try and calm herself.

"I won't lie to you: you can't slow these things down and they're going to happen a lot quicker than you'd like. But you don't have to go through them alone. Don't take this all by yourself when you have people around you who are willing to help." He hesitantly reached a hand out to rest on her arm, caressing it with his thumb. He thought back to the day his father and brothers died, to the long night that followed, the stress of getting his mother and sister to safety, of not knowing what had happened.

"I don't know who to trust anymore!" She burst out, finally looking up at him. "They raised me! They treated me like a daughter! They lied to my face every second of every day! I saw them as parents!" He got up to sit down next to her, rubbing his hand up and down her back now.

"I still trust you." He spoke softly, trying to glance at her face but she turned her head away, "But you're going to have to prove yourself to everyone now that the other recruits have found that pin. I spoke with the Assassins and they want to see you complete some errands around the city for us." (Y/n) bit down on her cheek and sighed, leaning her face on her hand.

"Everything just keeps on falling apart." She murmured, sniffling now, "I thought that I finally had a place here and now that's being tested too." His hand stopped on her back, palm splayed out.

"You've shown more devotion to the brotherhood than any of the others so far. I'll make sure that you keep your place here." He paused, "Ti prometto."

"You know, I don't usually cry this much in front of people." She laughed a little, trying to lighten the mood now, tired of being upset. He smiled softly back, seeing her wipe the tears from her face with her sleeve.

"You're going through a lot. . ." Ezio replied, "I understand that, truly, I do. But again: don’t force yourself to go through it alone."

They sat in silence for a while, (Y/n) slowly nodding her head and reaching for the papers beside him that she had gathered were her contracts around the city.

"I'll set things right, mentore." She bowed her head and stood to rest for the night before what would doubtlessly be a long day. She opened her door to find the drawers and doors of her wardrobe open, her bed unmade and the contents of the bag she had arrived with spilt over it.

She began to cry.

🏷️: @fuckinherondale @fandomsfanman

#Ezio #ezio auditore da firenze #ezio auditore #ezio's family #ezio assassins creed #ezio auditore fanfiction #ezio auditore imagine #ezio auditore x reader #assassins creed #Assassins Creed Brotherhood #AC #ACB #unwoven fate

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americasass81 · 3 years

Text

Make Her Mine - Chapter Four

{Warning: 18+, Dark theme, Non-Con, Violence, Mention of Breeding, Swearing, Smut}

Seriously do not read if any of this upsets you, the warnings are there for a reason.

A/N: Getting a bit darker here, this is also the first chapter with major smut so please be kind. Not to spoil it, but I’ve always wondered about the various things a certain item could be used for and have put that imagination to use a bit here. Hope you all enjoy it.

Word Count:- 3,117

Waking up with a mild headache, you looked around confused at your current location. Slowly as you checked yourself for injuries, the memory of Tony Stark walking into your hotel room came flooding back and you found your heart beating faster. While wondering what the sick fuck was up to, you at least calmed down a bit when you realized you and your clothes seemed to be intact. Foolishly looking around for your getaway bag, though you didn't expect to find it, you instead moved to the door to find it unlocked.

Poking your head outside and seeing nothing but a hallway with various doors, you quickly closed it and went to check out your surroundings. Survival 101 dictated that you first look for anything to use as a weapon before checking any and all means of escape. Entering through the only other available door, you were greeted by a reasonable bathroom that, while well furnished, held nothing of use but a roll of paper, a bar of soap and a washcloth. The window you noted was actually built into the ceiling with no possible way for you to reach it, so to save time, you abandoned this room in favor of the bedroom.

Quickly and quietly as possible, a thorough search here resulted in the same lack of viable options with a duplicate overhead window providing a glorious view of the clear blue sky you were currently a prisoner from. Taking a moment to think through the alternatives, and suspecting that Tony may have picked this place for a reason, you quickly got out of your head and made your way back to the bedroom door. Seeing a set of double doors at the end of the hall on your right, you assumed this was the master bedroom and so headed to the left. Had you taken the time, the two doors opposite yours would have revealed another bedroom and the main bathroom. As it was, the archway now in front of you opened up into a spacious kitchen and living room, with two doors, one of which you hoped led to freedom.

*************

Reaching for one, you stopped cold when you heard a dark chuckle behind you. Turning slowly, you pressed your back to the door when you saw Tony standing before you with a cup of coffee and a sinister smile.

"Good morning, darling. I see you've been exploring." As if by magic, a screen appeared showing your recent scavenger hunt through your rooms. Reaching for the door again while staring at him, Tony moved quicker than you thought possible and caged you between his powerful arms before bringing his lips to your ear. "Both those doors are locked Y/N, this time you're not going anywhere." With that a gloved hand came to rest just above your left breast where you felt a quick, sharp pick. Moving your top aside, you thought you saw movement under the skin before your eyes shot up to meet Tony's.

"Mr. Stark, what did you do?"

"Nanoparticles." he simply replied, stepping back to release you.

"Na-Nanoparticles?"

Taping the housing unit on his chest, you watched as a liquid-like material spread out over his body before becoming his suit of armor. The real horror hit you however, when you felt a mild pulse around the injection site. Placing your hand over the area, your eyes widened when another screen popped up with your employee picture and an unbelievable amount of information.

"Now thanks to my little friends, I not only know everything about you, but I can also track you anywhere. You will never be able to hide from me again." Seeing the realization dawn on your face, Tony flashed you his usual smirk before continuing. "They also tell me nifty little bits about what your body is up to. Which means right about now is when you might want to calm down." he said, concern clouding his features as he looked at the numbers on the screen.

"Calm down? How the fuck do you expect me to calm down? Not only have you kidnapped me, but you've just injected me with god-knows-what type of technology that allows you to track me and . . ." Beginning to have trouble breathing and feeling light-headed, anything else you wanted to say was cut off as you slid down the door.

Tony was back by your side in a split second and picking you up, sat both of you on the couch and held you as your breathing slowly returned to normal. "Feeling better darling? I tried to warn you."

Glaring at him now that you had calmed down, you tried to free yourself from his arms but his grip held firm. Resigning yourself to the fact that you were stuck, you looked at him and voiced another question on your mind. "Have you thought about what you're going to do when Miss Potts finds out what you've done? Not to mention the fact that I have pretty powerful friends."

"Ah Miss Potts? You know I just love the way company gossip has even reached the Accounting Department. Pepper and I have never, nor will ever be an item. Besides, I'd have thought office gossip was beneath you?" he questioned, arching a perfect eyebrow at you.

"Just because I never took any active part in it doesn't make me deaf or dumb. I still heard things." you pointed out while testing the hold he had on you.

"Fair point, my darling. As for your friends however . . . boy, that Sabrina is something else. Actually threatened the Avengers, she did. Still I dealt with her and her husband."

Fear and dread clutched at your heart like nothing you had ever felt before and it felt like Tony had physically stabbed you. Remembering your boxing and long ago self-defense classes, you head-butted him as hard as you could and used his confused state to scramble away. You only made it halfway between the two rooms however, when a sharp pain in your chest caused you to collapse on the floor.

Curled up and hugging yourself as the aftershocks slowly subsided, Tony reached out to soothe you as he knelt by your side. "Now why did you make me do that, darling? I never wanted you to find out what else those nanoparticles could do. Shush now, let me take care of you." Trying to move away from him, you couldn't help the tears from falling as you thought about what he had done to your friends or what he had planned for you.

*************

Picking you up eventually, this time he walked back to your room and placed you gently on the bed. Forcing yourself to look at him, you wiped away the tears as you found your voice. "What did you do to my friends?"

"Nothing, I promise. If possible, I can do without a war against the New York Mob. I don't know how much you know about your friend, but he can be quite ruthless. No, I simply created a false trail that has you currently being treated at a facility in Denmark."

"What's so special about Denmark? Surely you could have picked somewhere in the States?"

"I could have," he agreed, "but I figured there's less chance of them getting on a plane to visit you in Denmark."

"And the nanoparticles? What happened out there and what else can they do?"

"Aw Darling, I'd rather not answer that." he said, reaching out to move a stray strand of hair while you flinched back from him. Sighing deeply, his hand fell by his side as he gave in. "What happened in the other room was a minor pulse emitted by the nanoparticles, it can go a lot higher. But I'd rather that not happen." he quickly added, as you scrambled further away from him. "Still they also have the ability to repair a certain amount of tissue damage, so that's a plus."

"So what you're saying is you can pretty much control me now because of those nanoparticles. What do you have planned for me?" you demanded, fearing the answer but needing to know all the same.

Looking away from you, Tony seemed to think long and hard before rising from the bed and answering. "How about we park this conversation for now. You must be hungry."

"Fuck you Stark, I'm not hungry. Tell me what your sick mind has dreamed up."

"Y/N, we had this conversation back in my office." his tone indicating his patience was limited. "While I'd rather make things pleasant, I'm not above putting manners on you if I have to. Now, shall we?" he asked, holding out his hand to you.

Leaping off the bed however, you failed to make it to the door before Tony tackled you and held you down. Securing your hands above your head with more nanoparticles, he flipped you over before ripping your clothes from you. Then an unparalleled fear gripped you as he spread your legs before kneeling between them. Watching him undo his pants, you tried your best to get away from him but to no avail. Removing his cock, you stared in horror as he spit on his hand before running it up and down his length. Redoubling your efforts, all the fight died in you when he held your hips, lined himself up with your entrance and thrust into your dry pussy.

Releasing a scream that rose from the very depths of your soul, Tony was too busy using you to care, while you couldn't figure out how you didn't pass out already. "That's it darling, let it all out and scream for me. I didn't want our first time to be like this, but maybe this will teach you to be a bit more polite." he taunted, as he continued to plough into you in spite of your obvious distress.

"Tony please . . . fuck stop. It hurts so much." you cried as he pounded into you harder than you thought possible. Increasing his speed and pushing your knees forward so his hard shaft could reach deeper, you felt the coil tighten in your stomach, but before you could reach your climax Tony groaned above you as you felt him paint your walls with his seed.

Pulling out, he picked you up and placed your naked body on the bed before the nanoparticles secured your wrists to the headboard. Kissing you tenderly, he walked to the door before your cries forced him to turn around.

"Mr. Stark. Tony, you can't leave me like this. I'll do anything. You don't even need to release me, just make me come."

"No Y/N, this is what you get. I tried to be reasonable, but your attitude just won't change. So until you prove grateful for all I've given you the last three years, you can lie here and take what I give you." With that, he exited your room, leaving you naked, unsatisfied and completely at his mercy.

*************

Looking at the cameras installed throughout the property, he watched you trash about until you wore yourself out. While he hated himself for what he did, he couldn't reconcile the meek you that kept turning down his attention with the ungrateful brat before him. Even as you screamed and cried his name, you still refused to beg or apologize. He had to wonder if perhaps this situation just brought out the worst in you.

Watching you eventually drift towards an exhausted sleep, Tony was pissed to discover a missed voicemail on your phone from your friend Sabrina. It was bad enough that she couldn't give him time to convince you to be his, but upon playing the message, he discovered what she really thought about him. There and then, after phoning in a quick update on your location and condition to Mr. Stan, he decided he had to find a permanent way to keep your mob friends from you, lest they try to turn you against him. However a more important matter threatened to derail his whole plans when he discovered an email from your boss Melinda, informing him that you hadn't reported into work since Wednesday. Thankfully however, being who he was made this an easy problem to fix, though it did worry him as to whether he may have overlooked some other minor detail which might later come back to threaten the life he planned to build.

Setting aside your phone and watching you, he figured he should take his own advice and try to break you quickly so the two of you could become the couple he imagined. Making himself a quick meal, he then proceeded to deal with some urgent work stuff before checking back in with you. Seeing you finally stir, he decided to bite the bullet and see if your attitude had improved. Rising and heading to the fridge for a health smoothie which he hoped you'd drink, he headed off to your room to see if pleasure or pain was the order of the day.

Placing the glass on the bedside table, he released your hands from the bed and drew you onto his lap before bringing the glass up to your lips. "Y/N, darling, I need you to drink this. Can you do that?" Shaking your head, while unknowingly snuggling deeper into his warm body, your eyes widened in shock when you finally opened them to take in the scene before you.

"T-Tony, what the fuck? Let me go." you croaked out, trying futilely to pull away from him. He didn't let you go however, and before you could steel yourself, the nanoparticles emit the same pulse that floored you in the kitchen. This time however Tony's arm wraps around you as you hold on to steady yourself.

"Darling I'm sorry, but the sooner you learn the sooner I can actually disable that feature. You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Glaring at him while nodding your head, your eyes quickly fell to the glass now held in his other hand. "Is my girl finally ready for a drink?" he asked as he followed your gaze.

"Yes." you rasped and he brought the glass to your lips as you opened your mouth to accept the liquid. Drinking a bit too quickly, he had to remind you to take it easy so you didn't choke. When you had drank it all, he lay you back on the bed before returning the glass to the table. Then in a move that had you terrified, he took off his shoes before joining you on the bed and moving between your legs.

Scrambling backwards towards the head of the bed, he quickly and easily pulled you down, before placing his hands on your hips to keep you in place. "Y/N, I just need to check there's no lasting damage done, okay? Can you let me do that."

"No, don't fucking touch me. You can't do what you've done and then act all concerned. You're a monster, plain and simple." you screamed while thrashing as best you could against his hold.

"Fine you see a monster, so be it." With that he tapped his housing unit and you watched in horror as countless nanoparticles made their way down his arm, along the sheets and settled in to secure your arms and legs to the bed. Spread wide open for him, fear filled your eyes when Tony held up his palm as a penis shaped object took form. Moving forward towards your pussy, you found your voice and finally begged.

"Tony please, whatever you're planning, don't do it. I'll behave, I promise. Just please don't put that thing in me. I thought you said those things already in me could tell you what was going on inside me "

"They do darling, but this is simply a much quicker way to check there's no damage. I promise I'll be gentle, just don't move." Then moving his hand, he lined the object up with your entrance and gently pushed it in. Checking data on a screen, but hearing you wince from how tender you still were from not being wet enough, he slowed his movement slightly before looking up at you. "Breathe darling, I know it hurts but you're doing so well. It will be over shortly."

Pushing in the final few inches, he took a few minutes to lean forward and kiss you gently before going back to the screen to see what was going on. Seemingly happy with what he saw, he looked back to you with a grin that sent fear shooting down your spine, while somehow at the same time sending heat towards your core.

Pulling his palm away from you so only a small part of the object remained, he slid it back in just as gently as before. Continuing to thrust it in and out, it didn't take long for you to start moaning beneath him. While trying to move still proved impossible, the friction he created was doing amazing things to your pussy and this only moved up another notch when he again leaned forward and wrapped his lips around your left nipple. Sucking and nibbling until your nipple was erect, he bit down gently before furnishing your right nipple with the same treatment. Getting closer and closer to your peak as his hand began moving faster, the coil in your stomach snapped and you came when Tony moved his other hand down to pinch your clit.

Reducing the thickness of the makeshift cock to make its exit easier, he couldn't hide the smirk on his face as you sighed contentedly while trying to control your breathing. "Well Darling, it's safe to say there's no permanent damage done. Now, what do you say we see about putting a mini me in you?" With that, he quickly removed his clothes, returned between your spread legs and thrust in to the hilt before you even registered what he had said. Having just come, he had no trouble this time sliding in and out of your slick pussy and it wasn't long before he had you reaching for the edge once again. With just a few more thrusts and some well timed flicks to your clit both you and Tony cried out as you came around him while his cum shot out, drowning your cervix. Collapsing on top of you, he didn't stay there long before he pulled out and drew you back against his chest after the nanoparticles released your aching limbs. Placing soft kisses along your neck and shoulder it didn't take long for both your breathing to return to normal and you fell asleep in each other's arms.

Tagging:- @nsfwsebbie , @hoseokchild , @ironlady1993 , @floatingdaisy7 , @taintedgenre , @buttercandy16 , sorry if I missed anyone.

#dark!tony stark x reader

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witcher-and-his-bard-archive · 4 years

Text

Good as Gold pt.8

[part seven] | [part nine] [prostitute!jaskier masterpost]

Geralt's up to his knees in muck, stinking of water hags and bloedzuiger acid and regretting ever taking on a contract in a swamp. He should have known better; they never end well for him. He trudges through the muck, barely holding the water hag head above it in his exhaustion as he makes for solid land. It's a half-hour ride from here back to the village, but there's no way Roach will let him anywhere near her like this, so he'll have to walk. which would be fine if not for the gaping wound down the whole right side of his body.

He's had years of experience with water hags - alone and in packs of drowners - and he's never had so much trouble with them as he did with this one. It didn't help that she was joined by a stray bloedzuiger or that she got her claws under a broken buckle in his armour. And so he's frustrated with himself, exhausted and bleeding, and dreading to a long walk back to town.

As soon as he reaches Roach, he drops the hag head, digging through Roach’s saddlebags for his potions and downs Swallow. The last thing he needs after this day is to wind up with an infection because his wound got full of mud. Roach protests even the brief touch, snorting and stomping at him and Geralt mumbles an apology as he readjusts the bags and pulls out a rope to tie the head to her saddle. Once he's away from her, a few paces ahead with her reins in hand, she settles and it's a small mercy that she doesn't kick off every time he gets too close.

"It's not as though I enjoy stinking of swamp," he grumbles, but she just snorts.

They're not far out before he starts limping, the uneven ground doing nothing to help the searing pain in his side. But Geralt presses on because he can hear the sounds of civilization, however faint, in the distance, and he's had worse injuries than this. He’ll get paid, find a room for the night and by morning he’ll be feeling up to travelling again - and Roach will be happier to bear him once he’s clean.

But somewhere between the physical exhaustion and the fog in his head, he must have gotten turned around because when they arrive in town, it's not the one he was headed for. This town - city?- is much bigger than the place he set out from, but at the moment, he almost doesn't care. He's aching and his skin is tacky with sweat and muck and blood and who knows what else. He's got potions still running through his system and he's too keyed up to meditate, but he'd like to find somewhere to rest, if only for a little while before heading back in the other direction.

He asks for where to find lodgings at the gate and though suspicious, the guard doesn't seem inclined to take on a toxic Witcher, so he mumbles directions to the inn and lets Geralt pass without trouble. It's not until he's in the middle of town - until he's passing the brothel - that he realizes how badly he’s miscalculated. This is Hagge and that's Jaskier's brothel and with any luck - or lack thereof - Jaskier is in there right now.

And, as if by some sort of cruel fate, as Geralt turns the corner, he spots him.

Jaskier is leaning against the side of the building, talking animatedly with one of the other courtesans and Geralt curses himself for being so stupid. He can't let Jaskier see him like this. Jaskier is calm and patient and unafraid, but Geralt isn't sure how far that stretches and he's not naive; he knows what he looks like right now. He veers off the road, taking an alternate route, but it proves to be in vain because once he finds the inn, the innkeeper takes one look at him and sends him on his way.

Which is fair, he supposes; he looks like hell, looks like a monster and he'll scare away business. But the bathhouse is no different when he tries there and it's getting too dark to head back to the other town. He has two options: sleep out in the forest or see if the brothel will give him a room for the night. He'll pay what he can and he doesn't even have to see anyone; all he wants is a room and some rest, maybe a bath if they're feeling generous.

But when he arrives, striding into the main hall with as much confidence as he can muster, the madam just wrinkles her nose at him.

"Julian's waiting for you," she says stiffly, indicating the stairs. Geralt frowns because he didn't even know he was going to be here, how could Jaskier? He gives her a questioning look, but she just rolls her eyes and says, "go on then," like he's a child.

He does though, making his way toward the stairs and up toward Jaskier's room. On the one hand, he's relieved that he spent the time and money to have Roach stabled at the inn, but on the other, he's dreading having Jaskier see him like this. The only thing that keeps him moving is the prospect of a warm room and somewhere quiet to sleep.

Very reluctantly, he reaches out to knock on the closed door. His stomach knots up almost as soon as his knuckles touch wood. He shouldn't be so worried about what a whore thinks about him but Jaskier is one of the few people Geralt can let his guard down around and he's been enjoying their time together, brief as it may be. The door swings open and Geralt's heart leaps into his throat as Jaskier grins up at him.

Jaskier's smile fades as soon as he sees him and it takes all of Geralt's strength not to just turn and leave right now. The forest floor isn't a bad place to sleep when the alternative is seeing Jaskier's disgust plain on his face.

"Is everything alright?" Jaskier asks and the question catches Geralt off guard. He was expecting hatred or fear, not this awful stench of concern that engulfs them both. "You never show up before you're all tidied up." He tries for a lighthearted smile, but Geralt sees straight through it.

"They wouldn't take me at the inn." The scent in the room turns metallic, the hot scent of anger and when Geralt meets Jaskier's eyes, his eyes are downcast, jaw set. "It's fine," Geralt assures him, "look at me, would you take me in?"

"Of course," Jaskier snaps, then breathes deeply and shuts his eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry the world is cruel." He reaches out and Geralt flinches instinctively, but Jaskier's fingers slip around his hand, his thumb slipping across his palm. He closes his hand around his, tugging him forward gently and Geralt goes with him.

"You can use my bath," he says, turning to shut the door behind Geralt, "I had it filled not long ago, it should still be hot."

Geralt opens his mouth to protest but he's struck with the realization that Jaskier had plans for them. Why else would he be waiting for Geralt with a hot bath ready? He doesn't have a chance to bring it up when Jaskier's hands slip over his shoulders, working at the buckles of his armour.

"What are you doing?" he asks and Jaskier just huffs a soft laugh.

"You can't bathe in your armour, darling. I know you don't think you deserve it or some other such nonsense, but I insist. I won't have you in my bed smelling like this."

"That's not why I'm here."

"You visit me very often for someone who claims not to come for sex." Jaskier's voice is light, amused, but as he moves his hands around Geralt's sides, Geralt grunts in pain and the amusement vanishes. "What's wrong?" Jaskier asks, pulling his hands back and inspecting Geralt's torso.

"Nothing. I can do the rest on my own."

"I won't have it." Jaskier sighs. "You can lie to me all you want, but I won't let you suffer any longer in this godsforsaken city." He falls silent and not feeling any need to argue or to fill the silence, Geralt lets him continue undressing him.

But once his armour is off and in a tidy pile on the floor, there's no mistaking the wound on his side. His shirt is torn from the sleeve nearly all the way to the hem and Jaskier's eyes go wide with concern when he sees it.

"What happened?" he asks, breathless.

"It's fine. Just a water hag, nothing I haven't recovered from before."

"Is there always so much blood?"

"Depends how bad it is."

"And they-" he huffs, "they turned you away at the inn like this?" He scowls and Geralt just looks at him, almost amused. But Jaskier is very much not amused and tells him as much. It doesn't keep him from undressing Geralt the rest of the way and guiding him toward the tub.

"Will you be okay in the hot water?" he asks.

"Better than cold bog mud," Geralt shrugs and Jaskier looks horrified all over again.

He steps into the tub, sighing as the hot water stings wounds he didn't realize were there. It's better than the mud and sweat and he can put up with a little pain if it means getting clean and warm. His muscles relax in the heat and he lets himself lean back, content to stay here and rest for a little while. And he does, for a few minutes at least, before Jaskier's footsteps catch his attention, walking away and then right up behind him.

"Sit up," Jaskier says gently and Geralt does, turning to look at him.

"What are you doing?"

"You have... gunk… or something in your hair. I'm just going to wash it out for you."

"You don't have to-" Geralt starts, but Jaskier interrupts him.

"I know. I want to, let me." He sets the bucket down next to the tub and crosses to the other side of the room. When he returns, he's got a small box of soaps and oils in his hand and Geralt looks up at him questioningly.

"These ones don't smell too strong," Jaskier says, offering the soap for Geralt to smell. Surprisingly, he's right and Geralt nods his assent, pushing himself back up so Jaskier can dump the water over his head.

The water is cooler than that in the tub, but Jaskier's hands are soft, working the soap all the way down to his scalp. He tugs a little when he comes across a knot or a clump of something, but Geralt is patient with him, although reluctant to agree he genuinely likes it. Like before, Jaskier's hands seek out every place he wants them, slipping down to massage his neck once he's satisfied with Geralt's hair. Normally, Geralt wouldn't let him, but he feels better about it knowing that he'll be paying Jaskier for taking up his time.

Once he's warm and relaxed and Jaskier is sufficiently pleased with the state of his hair, Geralt gets out of the bath, taking the offered sheet from Jaskier and sitting himself on a stool by the fire. He lets the sheet drop around his waist and digs through his satchel for his potions and salves. The potions he took earlier have nearly run their course, but he takes a dose of white honey anyway, following it up with swallow a few minutes later.

With the wound clean, it will be easier to dress, but when he tries to rub salve on it, it proves more difficult than expected. The wound wraps around his side and up his back toward his shoulder - turning to reach it is too painful and with stiff muscles, he couldn't reach properly anyway. He grunts in frustration but before he can do anything about it, Jaskier is at his side with the little tub of salve in his hand.

"Can I help?" he asks and Geralt lets him because he knows he won't shut up about it otherwise.

Jaskier turns out to be a much better helper than expected and his hands are soft and gentle, careful where Geralt wouldn't be. He's calm, not even a hint of fear or disgust and Geralt can't understand why not, but he appreciates it. Even the bravest soldiers who have seen him hopped up on potions have turned and run in the other direction, but Jaskier just finishes wrapping the bandages around him and guides him toward the bed.

"I can't afford the night," Geralt mumbles, looking up at Jaskier from his seat on the edge of the bed.

"Then consider it a favour for a friend."

Geralt wants to ask why he would do this, but Jaskier is already away, busying himself on the other side of the room. Geralt considers the word friend and how it fits for them, whether it actually does at all.

"I'm supposed to get back to see the alderman of..." the name of the town escapes him, but Jaskier just turns back to him and smiles softly.

"It can wait until the morning. I'll be back, alright?"

"Alright?" Geralt asks, not sure if he should ask where he's going.

He doesn't have to wait long to find out. It's barely been ten minutes when Jaskier returns to the room with a platter of food and a bottle of wine. He swishes the bottle at Geralt and plops himself down on the bed next to him.

"Eat," he says, "I already had supper, but I figured you probably hadn't. And you didn't seem in the mood to turn down wine." He offers a small smile and something in Geralt twists uncomfortably, though he can't quite place the feeling. This is so vastly different from their other encounters and Geralt isn't quite sure what to do with it, but he takes the offered food. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until he smelled it.

Jaskier picks at it a little, but mostly he drinks and talks and prods Geralt to drink, too. It doesn't affect him the way it affects humans, but even then, Jaskier doesn't drink enough to get drunk, just enough to make him pleasantly soft and more physical than usual.

He clambers up onto the bed and leans against the wall, crossing his legs and pulling a pillow into his lap. He gets his arms under Geralt's shoulders, gently easing his head into his lap. The excess energy has drained from Geralt's veins and he's feeling much more himself, although dead tired.

He drifts off with Jaskier's fingers running through his head and the steady sound of his heartbeat above him.

When Geralt wakes, the room is dark, but the fire casts light across the floor, enough he thinks that Jaskier could even see. He rolls onto his side and Jaskier is there, leaning against some cushions and writing in a notebook. When he sees Geralt, he sets it on the floor and turns to him.

"Sorry," Geralt mumbles, "didn't mean to disturb you."

Jaskier just shushes him. "Don't worry about it, I was just struck with inspiration, had to get it out. Are you feeling better?"

"Much."

"Mmm. Good." Jaskier leans over, pressing a kiss to his chest, just shy of the bandages. And Geralt is so warm and relaxed that he can't help the way the heat from his lips creeps through his skin, prickling as it spreads through him.

"Jaskier," he warns but Jaskier is already shifting to lie next to him, running a hand down his stomach, dangerously close to where Geralt's cock sits against his hip. "Don't think that's gonna work tonight," he hums.

"Seems to be working perfectly," Jaskier smirks, brushing his fingers just over the head of Geralt's cock. When Geralt doesn't pull away, he curls around him, humming as Geralt groans. "See, you want this." Jaskier presses his nose against Geralt's neck, kissing him softly. "Let me."

Geralt doesn't respond, just shuts his eyes and focuses on the feeling of Jaskier's hand around him. A wave of heat rolls over him as Jaskier strokes him but then suddenly, he stops. Geralt's eyes open, flicking over to Jaskier.

"I'm sorry," Jaskier whispers, "I shouldn't push. You're hurt." Geralt nuzzles against his hair, ignoring the pain in his side as he shifts.

"Don't stop," he breathes.

"Sure?" Jaskier asks and Geralt nods against him.

"Yeah," Geralt mumbles. He knows he'll regret it in the morning because he's already stiff and sore and he's terrible at keeping still with Jaskier's hands on him. But when Jaskier touches him again, he's not thinking about anything but the slide of skin on skin.

He doesn't go straight for Geralt's cock this time, smoothing down the inside of his thigh and scraping his nails back up again. It sends little shivers of pleasure through Geralt's body and he curls one hand in the sheets, shifting to wrap his other arm around Jaskier's shoulders. Jaskier shifts so he's propped up on one arm, Geralt's hand sliding to his lower back.

He leans over him, pressing wet kisses to Geralt's chest as his fingers slip around him again. He squeezes around the base of Geralt's cock and rubbing the pad of his thumb along the vein underneath. Geralt's hips jump at the sensation, a soft groan escaping his lips.

"Careful darling, don't want to reopen that wound," Jaskier's lips barely leave his skin as he speaks, breathing the words into his skin. "Let me make you feel good, just tell me what you want and I'll give it to you. Do you want it faster?"

"No." He likes it slow, likes the way Jaskier can draw every ounce of pleasure from him with nothing more than his hands. They could lie here like this for hours if Jaskier didn't have to sleep and Geralt didn't have to leave in the morning. As it is, he should probably try to sleep off the worst of this, but he's weak when it comes to Jaskier and he so rarely gets to spend the night with someone warm and willing.

"You're very quiet tonight, what are you thinking about?"

"Your hands. Always feel so good."

"I can tell," Jaskier hums, pressing up to kiss the spot right beneath Geralt's ear, "you're already so hard for me." Geralt just groans as Jaskier's lips wrap around his earlobe, his hand slipping to the head of his cock with a twist of the wrist. Jaskier shifts closer, fitting his stomach against Geralt's side and slipping one leg up over his thigh.

His cock presses into Geralt's skin, still soft but unmistakably interested in what's happening. Every time Jaskier shifts, his cock pushes into the flesh of Geralt's thigh, thickening against him with each shift of his hips. And Jaskier groans softly into his skin, working his hips a little quicker.

"Has anyone ever told you you have a magnificent cock?" he rumbles, "so thick and hard and -" he groans as he buries his face in Geralt's chest and Geralt can feel Jaskier's cock twitch against his thigh. "Gods, I can barely get my mouth around the damn thing," Jaskier continues, "but I think about it all the time. Think about making you come with just my mouth, licking and sucking until you just can't take it anymore. Think I could do it too," he slips up again, tracing the shell of Geralt's ear with his tongue as if in demonstration and Geralt's hips shift again.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? What about my hands? Could you come like this?"

Geralt wants to tell him that he could come any way with Jaskier talking to him like this, but he doesn't get the chance. Jaskier shifts away from him, shifting onto his knees with Geralt's cock still in his hand. He leans over him, still straddling Geralt's thigh and strokes him quickly, twisting at the head. Geralt moans softly into the air, sliding his fingers up the back of Jaskier's thigh. He wants to touch him, wants to slip all the way up and press into that tight heat, make Jaskier moan - but he's been told to keep still and he knows he should. Still, thinking about Jaskier's hole stretching around him, even around his fingers, makes his blood rush.

He lifts his hips with a low moan, pressing up into Jaskier's fist despite the twinge in his side as he does. Jaskier presses his hips back into the mattress and Geralt is struck by how comfortable Jaskier is with him, how willing he is to push where most people would be afraid to simply be with him. Because he's a Witcher. Because who knows what he'd do if they step out of line. But he finds he likes it, and not only Jaskier's fearlessness but the way he pushes him around like it's nothing. Even if it's just gentle nudging, it sends a shiver up his spine.

"You like that?" Jaskier asks, slipping his hand back over Geralt's hip, pressing him into the mattress. Geralt's cock twitches in his hand and Jaskier grins down at him. "Fuck, you look lovely like this. What do you want, beautiful?"

"I want to fuck you," he grits but Jaskier just mumbles something muddled into his chest and gives another firm squeeze to Geralt's cock.

"Not tonight. You need to rest and heal and then you can fuck me till I can't walk straight, alright?" Oh, the mental image that presents. Geralt thinks about it and he's struck with an idea.

"Talk to me," he breathes.

"What do you want to hear about? Because I don't think it's a mystery that you get me so fucking hard." Geralt groans as Jaskier punctuates the words with a quick roll of his hips and Jaskier continues, mouth sliding down Geralt's stomach. "I think of you sometimes," he says, "when I'm alone... or not. Sometimes I imagine it's you, wishing the cock inside me was longer, thicker. Wishing it was your voice in my ear when they come."

"Or," Jaskier continues, shifting back onto his hip, "sometimes when I'm home, when I'm lying in bed alone I think about what I'll do to you next time, wonder how long it'll be before I see you again." He presses his nose under Geralt's jaw, running his tongue along the edge of it. "I get hard thinking about it, bring myself off thinking about your hands on me, your cock in my mouth."

Geralt squirms under him. His legs spread instinctively, pushing himself into Jaskier's erection and it only adds to the arousal searing through his veins. He knows it's just a story, that he asked Jaskier to tell him one, but the thought of him alone in his own room... he aches to wind his arms around him and haul Jaskier on top of him. He wants to fuck into him, spread him open on his fingers, so wide his cock just slips into him. And fuck, the thought of that is too much.

"Gonna come," he chokes, tangling his fingers in Jaskier's hair and pulling him against his chest. Jaskier's mouth finds his nipple, sucking lightly and circling the nub with his tongue.

"That's it, beautiful, you're so good for me."

"Show me," Geralt growls. The command surprises even him and Jaskier just lifts his head and stares at him with dark, wide eyes. "Show me how you touch yourself."

For the first time, Jaskier says nothing, but he shifts his body away from Geralt's rising to his knees to straddle Geralt's hip. And Geralt watches every little movement with intense interest, holding back a groan as Jaskier sits back on him and the heat of his body radiates through him.

Jaskier drops Gerat's cock, smoothing up the underside as he takes himself in hand. Geralt is quick to mirror him, stroking himself as slowly as his arousal will allow as he watches Jaskier's fingers wrap around his cock. He's already hard, slick pooling at the tip of his cock, and Jaskier groans as he touches himself, biting down on his bottom lip. He runs his thumb through the collected seed, spreading it down his length.

"Fuck," Geralt mumbles, giving himself a squeeze as his cock twitches in his hand. He's so close, would have come by now if he'd let himself, but he wants to enjoy watching Jaskier as long as he can. Not long, judging by the look on Jaskier's face. "I think about you too," he tries, and Jaskier's hips jerk and he falls back onto his heels.

"Fuck, Geralt. Tell me."

"It's lonely on the Path, I don't see people often. Sometimes I wake up hard, sometimes I just get horny for no good reason. "

"Do you touch yourself?"

"Yes."

"Tell me what you think about," Jaskier huffs, dropping his head back with a moan. He works himself quicker, pressing his hips into it and Geralt has to shut his eyes to keep from coming right then. His mind goes back to a favourite fantasy; Jaskier pressing him up against a wall and fucking him from behind. He's been over it so many times he can nearly feel Jaskier's hands on him, tweaking a nipple or wrapping around his cock.

"You," he grunts, squeezing around the head of his cock, "fucking me. Pressed against me, so deep I can barely breathe-" he whines and a little seed spurts from his cock. He won't last long, not being forced to re-live this.

"You'd like that, hm? I'd gladly fuck you any day." He slips a finger between his lips and Geralt laser-focuses on the way he sucks it, the way his lips part as he pulls it out again. But it's not until Jaskier reaches down and presses one slick finger against his rim that Geralt falters.

Geralt's hips twitch and Jaskier rubs him, pressing just hard enough to push through the ring of muscle. It's a little dry and Jaskier stops him from pushing further, but when he slips out, pressing his thumb against him and spreading him wider, Geralt's control snaps.

He comes hard, hips snapping, and it's only Jaskier's hand on his hip that keeps him from pulling him down on top of him. Jaskier's fingernails dig into his skin and he moans as he jerks himself urgently, mumbling Geralt's name under his breath. He spills onto Geralt's hip, eyes pinched shut and lip trapped between his teeth. Unthinking, Geralt reaches up, stroking his thigh as Jaskier works himself through his orgasm.

When he opens his eyes again, he presses his cock against Geralt's hip, slipping through the mess. He looks up at Geralt with a soft, lopsided smile and for a moment, Geralt's chest constricts with warmth before everything he said comes back to him.

It's like launching into a freefall and as Jaskier slips off the bed with a command for him to stay still that Geralt barely hears, he wants to throw himself out the window. How could he say something like that? Whores are supposed to tell stories, to say whatever they need to keep their customers coming back, but Geralt just went and told him something deeply private, something he'd intended never to tell another soul. The sheer mortification that encompasses him is overwhelming.

Shutting his eyes, he pulls a cushion over his head, trying to ignore the scent of Jaskier that surrounds him. He's an idiot, and worse, Jaskier probably thinks he's an idiot. He could try to play it off as a story, but he's sure Jaskier knows him well enough by now to see right through that - he usually does. There are men out there who fall in love with prostitutes, who spend their life chasing after a dream that will never be - Geralt isn't one of them and he doesn't want Jaskier thinking he is. He doesn't know why he said what he did, but he wishes he could take it back now.

When Jaskier returns to the bed, Geralt tries to school his face into something neutral, but judging by Jaskier's frown, it doesn't work very well. Jaskier takes the cushion from him, setting it to the side.

"You've got that look on your face again," he says, kneeling on the bed next to him. He takes a warm, damp cloth to Geralt's skin, wiping away the mess and leaving him cool against the open air. "What's wrong?"

"What I said-" Geralt starts then looking up at Jaskier, finds he doesn't know how to finish. He can save himself the pity and embarrassment of Jaskier thinking he feels more for him than he should, but he risks offending Jaskier. Or, he could suffer in silence and say nothing. Jaskier's expression is so honest and open that Geralt can't bear to risk saying the wrong thing. "Nevermind. Thank you. For everything."

"Geralt," he says softly, "you don't have to thank me. It's the least I could do after the way you were treated."

"Hmm."

"There is one thing I wanted to know, though."

"What's that?"

Jaskier huffs a soft laugh, tugging the cushion out of Geralt's hands and setting it next to him. "When you came in your eyes were almost black." Geralt groans, regretting the loss of his cushion. But Jaskier doesn't press and eventually, he sighs.

"It's from the potions I take when I fight. They're toxic - enough that even the healing potions would kill a human very quickly. The toxins do... that."

"You don't like it, do you?" Geralt just scoffs, but Jaskier lays down next to him, pressing up against his side. "I think it's sexy." Geralt gives him a look but does nothing when Jaskier smiles back and presses his face into his neck. "You're always welcome here, Geralt. Even in the middle of the night, I'll come let you in."

Geralt considers that for a moment. Perhaps it's a bit too much, but he's thankful for the offer and he'd rather stay here with Jaskier than pay for a musty inn room, anyway.

"I'll be back this way in a few weeks," he says, avoiding the sentimentality, "I've got an appointment in Vattweir."

“I look forward to it.”

#helllo #i can't believe this is already chapter 8 #and not even halfway done #i will update with all the proper links later #but rn i'm #making pancakes #good as gold #prostitute!jaskier #the witcher #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #rex writes

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yoonia · 4 years

Text

About Time // Part 15

Character: Jungkook x reader / Jimin x reader (feat. BTS)

↳ Type/Genre/words: Angst, Fluff, Alternate Universe (Time Travel!au/Time Leap!au, Soulmate!au), PG rated / 7,300 words

↳ Prompts: “What if you find your soulmate… at the wrong time?” - Lauren Kate, Passion

↳ Summary: Be careful for what you wish for, because you may never know how to deal with them once it comes true. What would you do when your wish for a second chance actually came true? But was it really a fulfilled wish? Too many questions lie when it actually happened. Were they real memories? Or perhaps a part of a past life? Was it only a dream all along? Will everything be different this time?

↳ Warnings: Mentions of cancer, (probably) inaccurate medical and law terms

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—First life. St. Vincent’s Hospital, year 2027—

I shouldn’t have taken it lightly when they warned me about it.

The scans, the blood tests, the physical examination, most of them I could handle. Until it came the time for them to lay me down and put a massive needle right through my spine to take a piece of a membrane from the growing monster inside me.

“Baby, it’s okay,” Jimin held my trembling hands with one of his while he uses the other to brush my dampened hair away from my face, where my sweat and tears came together as I tried to hold back the pain. “Look at me, baby. Just a little while longer. Take a deep breath and keep your eyes on me.”

I kept my eyes on Jimin as I felt as if they were sucking the life out of me. And I was relieved that he was there, for his eyes were hypnotising me enough to make me feel as if the pain was somewhere far away.

It was quite unusual for the hospital to allow someone other than an immediate family or a member of the doctor’s team to be there while they were doing these tests. But I was so frightened about the test that I had a major panic attack about it and I was also feeling terribly exhausted after going through a bunch of tests running the whole day that I was practically crying and begging for them to let me take a break. That was when Jimin came into the room and offered to help.

“Let me be there so she won’t freak out. I won’t interrupt, I promise,” he said then, basically pleading for them to let him in, before Dr. Kim finally gave in and gave him permission to enter the room.

An excruciating pain struck me so badly as I felt them pulling the needle out that I cried out and Jimin pressed his lips on my forehead, completely ignoring the fact that I was sweating buckets when he did. “You did good, love. It’s over now,” he whispered to me.

I looked up to him through my tears and tried to speak, though I could barely get my voice out while I kept sobbing as the pain was still too much for me to handle. “It hurts,” I cried with a whisper.

Jimin nodded his head knowingly. He was smiling at me as a way to encourage me, but his gaze was filled with sadness and pain, as if seeing me hurt had caused him just the same amount of pain. “You are brave, baby. You got through it good,” he said while kissing my tears away. “Just close your eyes and focus on my voice while the nurse is finishing up. I’m not going anywhere.”

He gave me a chaste kiss on my lips and my sobs slowly came to halt. The pain still lingered even once the doctor and his team had finished his job. I could hear his voice complementing me while letting me know that it was over and I could feel it when he cleaned my wound and patched me up before he left. But all I ever wanted to focus on was Jimin’s voice as he kept whispering sweet things to me and on the way he was holding my hands tight to let me know that I was not alone.

His presence was my cure and it was then when I finally realised that he had become the rock that kept me together. When I felt his lips on mine as I closed my eyes, I knew then that I could face and conquer anything as long as I had him with me, for it was the love I felt and the compassion I saw in his eyes that became the only things keeping me alive.

Jimin joined me in my bed that night.

We were lying on our sides and facing each other, talking about all the pointless things in life to get my mind away from the throbbing pain on my back, when he reached out, brushing his fingers gently across my cheek.

“You are so beautiful,” he suddenly whispered. I was caught off guard that I fell silent for a moment, before I started laughing. I could not believe that he would randomly say such a sweet thing right in the middle of mint chocolate versus cookie dough ice cream flavour discourse we were having.

“That was so random,” I whispered back. The goofy smile on my face refused to stay clear that I had to hide it by pressing my face down on my pillows.

“It just came to my mind,” he said, chuckling while he tilted my chin up so I could look at him again. He grazed his thumb gently across my lips before replacing it with a kiss. “I want to fall asleep watching your face and listening to your voice, then wake up to see this face and this smile again the next morning.”

“Are you trying to tell me that you’re getting sleepy?” I teased him, while he only smiled at me.

“Aren’t you the one who is supposed to be asleep?” he asked me. “I can tell that you’re forcing yourself to keep your eyes open. You must be tired after the long day you’ve had.”

I took his hand and started kissing his knuckles. “I am really tired. But I’m too scared to sleep.”

Jimin furrowed his brows as he looked at me. “Why?”

Shrugging, I could only tell him the truth. Or at least, half of it. “I feel calm when I’m with you. I don’t want to wake up to find you gone.”

As I looked into his eyes, all of the things I was so afraid of, all of my fears came to mind.

The truth was, I was too afraid to sleep because I had feared that I would not wake up the next morning. Or that I would wake up, only to find out that everything around me had disappeared.

Would it be wrong of me to feel as if all of this might fade away? I kept feeling as if he would disappear from my sight anytime I looked away and I refused to have that. It had been so long for me to feel like this. To feel something so intense that I just wanted to grab him tight and not let go before he could fade away.

Jimin reached out, cupping my cheek with his palm to bring me back to him and not lose myself in my thoughts. His lips tilted up to a small smile when he promised me, “I’ll be here when you wake up. I’ll never leave you, ______. Not unless you want me to.”

“Promise?”

His smile didn’t change, but his gaze did. There was something in his eyes that told me how scared he was to make that promise. Instead of giving me an answer, he leaned closer and kissed my lips gently, giving me his silent answer that I could hold on to instead of his words.

“Go to sleep and get some rest. I’ll hold you and wake you up when morning comes.”

That night, as I fell asleep in his arms, I had a long, dreamless sleep for the first time in my life. And it felt wonderful.

“Is it going to be like this every time this happens?”

It was the day after and Jimin had once again found his spot at the edge of my bed while we had our lunch. He kept his promise to be there when I woke up this morning, his misty eyes greeted me warmly when I opened mine. Then he insisted to give me his morning kisses no matter how hard I tried to fight him against it.

The only time he left was early in the day when I had to be cleaned up and checked by the nurses and he had to return to his bedroom for his own morning routines. The nurse who helped me bathe had joked about us sharing a room together in the future to make it easier for us but I brushed it off by saying that I needed my privacy.

That was until I started missing him so badly when morning past to noon and I nearly leapt out of my bed and into his arms when he walked into my room to keep me company at lunch.

I had sworn that I felt extremely famished before my meal arrived. But now, I was suddenly having trouble to eat or to swallow anything more than two spoonfuls of my meal. I was still exhausted and drowsy from the excessive hours of treatment I got yesterday and from the medications I got this morning that all I wanted to do was to lie down and close my eyes, instead of pushing down anything past my bitter tongue that could barely taste anything at all.

Jimin reached out and placed his hand on my knee just as I dropped my spoon. He patiently smiled at me when he answered me, “It comes and goes. Sometimes you’ll be able to eat everything that they give to you, but there will be times when your body refuses all the food and drinks no matter how much you used to enjoy them.”

I remembered when I first started the treatment and my medications would make me so nauseated that my body would refuse to take in anything at all. When I first questioned the nurses about it, the only warning I got was how things would grow more intense as I continued the treatment. It was expected that my body would react this way, yet it certainly did not feel good when it was finally happening.

My eyes fell on Jimin’s plate and noticed that he was also having trouble to take in more food. But he was pushing through it. Nibbling small portions of food each time he ate until the last bit of his meal.

“How do you get through it?” I asked him, wondering how he managed to do it when he had been taking these treatments and had been here to endure everything much longer than I had.

“I have found my own tricks to be able to eat,” he said, passing me a small cup of his pudding when he knew I wouldn’t be able to finish up the rest of my meal. “Soft textured food, like pudding and cakes, or anything sweet can trigger my taste bud and bring my appetite back when everything else tastes too bitter. Fruits and milkshakes help a lot too. And it’s always a good idea to have some light snacks in between to keep your stomach filled even when you can’t swallow your meal.”

As I took a few small spoons of the sweet pudding he gave me, I found that he was right. I had no problem in taking it in, even if I could only take a few small bites of them at a time. I took a mental note to make a grocery list for Hoseok to get for me once he would return to accompany me at the hospital.

Jimin must have noticed something on my face that had him grown wary, because he suddenly reached out just as I froze up, completely lost in my own thoughts for a moment that I stopped eating.

“Hey, I have an idea,” he said, brushing his thumb across my knee until he finally grabbed my attention.

His smile lit up while his eyes were glowing with excitement when he suddenly suggested, “Why don’t you finish up, and then we can watch some movies and nap for a while. Then later, if you’re feeling good enough to go out, I can take you somewhere so we can watch the sunset together.”

“Sunset?” I immediately perked up to the idea, yet I could not imagine how he would manage to show it to me while we were both stuck inside this hospital, which was surrounded by other tall buildings not too far from us instead of a beach or an open field. “How?”

“That’s a secret. Try to eat as much as you can and I’ll reward you with a little fun trip before I let you rest.”

Jimin was so secretive about it that I was half expecting him to blindfold me before he moved me into my wheelchair and started wheeling me away from my bedroom.

He seemed to know the way as he guided us both with ease through the hallways of our floor, snatched an empty elevator leading up, then found his way up, all the way to the rooftop.

“You are fucking unbelievable,” I mused at him as he pushed me out the door then led me to one small corner which he called as a ‘viewing port’, not too far from the hospital’s massive helipad and locked my wheelchair where he knew it would be safe for me to take a good look over the horizon. “How on earth did you find your way here?”

Jimin only chuckled. “The older men from our treatment group took me here during the first week I was treated. They did it to entertain me because they noticed I was looking down and lonely. Said one of them was carried to this hospital with a helicopter and he remembered how pretty the sky was when he arrived here. He used to come up here to watch the view whenever he was lonely before he started to bring the others with him,” Jimin explained as he spread a lap blanket over my legs to keep me warm, before spreading a different blanket on the concrete bed right beside me so he could sit down and join me watch the scenery.

“We can still see the sun coming down through the massive windows along the hallways on the top floor, but I really think that this is better,” he said while looking up to me with a sly grin. “An open air might do good for us too. We’ve been cooped up in our rooms for so long I’m starting to forget what if feels like to be outside. How the temperature changes as the sun sets or how the air out here feels like.”

“It’s still the same. The same polluted city air,” I mused after taking a long deep breath, the smile on my face was unstoppable as I breathed in the open air which contained none of those sickly scents from inside the hospital.

I heard Jimin chuckling beside me as he reached my hand, entwining our fingers together while we kept our eyes on the indigo coloured sky. “Yeah, don’t you miss it?”

Tightening my grip on his hand, I smiled at him, meeting his gleeful eyes before I went back to glancing at the sky before us. “I’ve missed it a whole lot.”

Silence fell between us right after, as we watched the sky changing shades with a mix of red and tangerine streaks of lights dancing together, before it grew into a dark, indigo blue coloured sky as the sun continued to descend and darkness slowly took over. Jimin kept his hand on mine as we marvelled on the beautiful sight, a complete contrast to the white walls and ceilings that had been surrounding us for the past week. As we sat there, letting the darkness engulfed us for a moment before all the lights on the rooftop came to life, I felt warmth and peace for the first time in my life. And when my eyes fell into our entwined hands, for the first time after such a long time, I no longer felt so lonely or lost.

The little trip to the rooftop we made to watch the sun descending between the concrete buildings had made me grow tired that I dozed off right after. When I woke up again, it was already nightfall yet the sky seemed to have only turned dark not too long ago before I opened my eyes.

I was instantly engulfed by everything that was a part of Jimin the moment my senses came to wake — the silky soft bedspread that he used on his bed, the wonderful scent of his sweet cologne which took over the room against the scent of antibiotics and anti-bacterial products, and Jimin himself, who was dozing off right beside me, lying on his back while his hand was resting over his chest.

I could not remember how I had managed to fall asleep on his bed or how we managed to end up in his bedroom, but his warmth and soft breaths had put me at ease that I settled back down against him. If there was something I could immediately notice from being in Jimin’s arms, was that I felt like I was at peace and that his presence felt like home.

Moving slightly to get more comfortable by his side, I placed a hand on his chest and had my head resting on his shoulder. I could hear his heartbeat and soft breathing beneath me, lulling me back to sleep.

“You should wake up and go back to your room, love,” he suddenly whispered. I felt his lips on my forehead, brushing gently against my skin when he spoke.

I opened my eyes to meet his sleepy ones and pouted. “Don’t you want me here?”

Jimin chuckled softly and shook his head. “I do want you here, more than anything. But it’s your brother’s turn to keep you company for the night,” he reminded me with a sly grin, before he reminded me of what had happened the other day. “You practically kicked him out of the bedroom the other night even when you knew that he was so worried about you. He would hate me if you choose me over him again tonight.”

Sighing, I rested my head back on his shoulder, wishing that I could just go back to sleep instead. “He’ll probably get angry and sulk for a while, but I’m not sure about hating,” I murmured against his shirt. “But you’re right. I should go back. I’m probably smothering you because I keep bothering you and not give you a proper time to sleep.”

He brushed my hair gently with his cold fingers. “I’ve slept and rested enough, don’t you worry. You help me relax whenever you are close, so I don’t really mind to have you around,” he said, tilting my chin up to let me read all the sincerity in his eyes to know how much he had meant what he said.

The moment I saw his eyes, the urge to keep him close and to hold him tight grew much stronger inside me that I pulled him down to me. Neither of us said anything as our lips met each other, and every word we wanted to say to one another was replaced with a kiss. A very long, deep, and needy kiss to last us the whole night without each other.

It took me quite a long while before I could peel myself off of him. Then, not only did he help me settle down on my wheelchair, he had insisted to wheel me out and take me all the way back to my room.

“You don’t have to escort me all the way back too, Jimin. I could’ve asked the nurse to do this for me,” I protested as we finally came to my bedroom and found him sweating a little thanks to the little journey we had to take.

“I wanted to,” he said to me with a smile. “A little exercise before bed would be good for me. I also want to kiss you goodnight and tuck you to sleep. Don’t you want that?”

Of course, I wanted it.

But I chose to tease him a little by rolling my eyes. “Suit yourself,” I playfully scoffed at him. In return, Jimin scooped me out of the wheelchair and helped me lie down on my bed. Watching him carry me in his arms worried me a little, but his playfulness was still there as he tucked me under the blanket and he was showing not even an ounce of pain or any trouble in carrying my weight.

“Good night, love. I hope your dreams tonight will be beautiful,” he whispered to me while pressing his lips at my temple.

“Thanks to you, I know they will be.”

With my arms wrapped around him, I pulled him down to me so I could kiss his lips. Our kiss lingered, starting gently before it grew deeper when he fell over me. I was so lost in the kiss, lost in his touches, and was feeling as if I was flying high in the sky with how completed I felt and how much he made me feel so secure, as if I was coming home in his arms.

Our lips moulded to one another, our tongue entangled in the cavern of his mouth, and our hands entwined together as he held me close. We became so lost in our love, in the comfort of our warmth as our body were pressed against each other, that the world around us no longer mattered.

We couldn’t care if the earth around us would stop spinning, if the time would stop, and we definitely did not notice the presence of a man standing in the doorway. Neither of us realised that there was a pair of eyes watching us closely, rage radiating off of his gaze as he watched the woman he married years ago kissing and embracing another man right before his eyes.

It happened so fast.

One minute, I was lost in Jimin’s tender kiss. His warmth was the only thing I could feel and I was close to falling asleep in the comfort of his embrace. Then suddenly, he was yanked away from me. It was so rough and abrupt that I was pulled along with him. Even the air inside my chest was pulled away until everything around me started spinning.

It took me a few seconds to realise what was happening, before I finally recognised the voice yelling out with pure anger and noticed him.

“Who the fuck are you? What are you doing to my wife?”

I was frozen stiff, still in shock and in fear of what I was seeing. Jungkook’s face held so much rage which I had never once seen before as he came face to face with Jimin, glaring with hatred and pain in his eyes. He had his hand clutched at the front of Jimin’s shirt, pulling my best friend and lover’s body up to his chest as he kept yelling to his face.

Once I recovered from my shock, I looked down on his other hand and found it clenching at his side, as if he was trying so hard to hold back from pounding at Jimin’s face.

“Jungkook, don’t!” I screamed at him. My heartbeat was racing, and I tried to push myself off of the bed to stop him from hurting Jimin. But there was nothing I could do when my body failed me. All I could do was move an inch before my body fell sideways, too weak to rush to his side and tear them apart. “Jungkook, please—you’ll hurt him!”

Jungkook seemed surprised when he heard my voice. Either his rage had him nearly forgetting that I was there, or that he had never expected to have me defending someone else but him, he just fell silent. The rage in his eyes instantly turned into an icy glare to whatever he was seeing on my face when he looked at me.

Yet what caught us both by surprise was Jimin, when his eyes showed no fear even as he met Jungkook’s gaze, nor was he trembling as Jungkook held him in arm’s reach, with his fist ready to blow a punch to his face.

“So you’re the ex-husband?” Jimin asked him, chuckling softly while his eyes held a weird, gloomy mood as he gave a look of perusal at Jungkook. “Didn’t think you would be back so soon. Or so late.”

There was a glint of shock and insecurities in Jungkook’s eyes for a moment to what Jimin had said to him, and I could easily tell what his word implied. As if Jimin was having a blast at taunting my ex-husband, he only continued by saying, “Visiting hours are over. You shouldn’t be here, you know. Don’t want the security to catch you and kick you out of the hospital now, do we? Because unlike me, you are not allowed to be here and you are definitely not wanted.”

Jungkook’s hands tightened even further as the fire in his eyes rose to the surface and I instantly screamed, “Jungkook, please!”

But it was too late. Especially when the only thing Jungkook could hear was Jimin’s voice when he taunted my ex-husband once again with, “Why don’t you go run along and go back to where you came from so I can tuck her to sleep? That’s what I’ve been doing anyway, tucking her to bed while you’re out there fucking up your marriage.”

Nothing could stop what happened right after, when Jungkook finally threw a punch right at Jimin’s face before shoving him against the wall where Jungkook kept a chokehold around Jimin’s neck with his strong arm.

The only thing I could do was watch the scene unraveling through my tears and screamed for him to stop while crying for help. Thankfully, that was when help came, right before Jungkook could do any further damage. Hoseok came bursting through the door along with a couple of nurses following right behind, all with clear shock on their faces.

“What is going on?”

“Oh my God—call the security!”

“Sir, you need to stop!”

“Jungkook, what the fuck? Let him go!”

I heard my brother’s voice coming at last and I felt relieved for having him here. He saw the distress on my face and rushed to Jungkook while the nurses kept yelling at Jungkook and another rushed out to call the security.

As if he just snapped out of it, Jungkook finally released Jimin and his eyebrows furrowed deep when his eyes found me, shaking with fear on the edge of my bed while tears came running down my face. But I never bothered to look at him. I kept my eyes on Jimin as he toppled over, wrapping his palm around his neck and had one of his arms around his abdomen while he was coughing out blood.

“Jimin, no—” I cried for him, reaching out to grab him and hating myself for not being able to reach him or touch him. I felt completely powerless when I could not move and even more so when I could see that Jimin was in pain and I could do nothing about it when I was the reason why he was hurting.

“______,” Jungkook called my name before I felt his hands on me, trying to help me up while he was begging for me to look at him and look away from Jimin who was now on the floor. I could not see where Jimin was hurting or how much in pain he was by being too far, and I grew even more restless on every second of not knowing if he was okay.

“No!” I pushed Jungkook away as he grabbed my upper arms and pulled me to him. I finally turned to him. But the only thing I did was to scream at his face, “What have you done? You hurt him!”

Jungkook fell back a step and let me go when Hoseok pulled him away. With Jungkook out of the way, one of the nurses came rushing to Jimin, helping him up while the other went to help me to sit straight up on the bed. As I was settling down on my pillows, Jimin refused the nurse’s help and rushed to my side. I was a complete sobbing mess at this point, and it became worse when I finally saw the damage — his bruising cheek that may turn blue or black in the morning, the small cut at the corner of his lips, the drying blood on the back of his hand which he had gotten when he wiped his lips and the bloodstain which he had coughed up on his shirt.

“No, no, no—Jimin,” I cried and cried as I clutched my hands on his shirt. I felt powerless and angry at myself for letting him get hurt.

“Hey—” Jimin whispered to me as he cupped my face with his trembling hands. His eyes were misty and I could sense how badly he was trying to mask his pain when he forced a smile, hiding them away from me when he gently whispered, “Sshh, baby—I’m okay, love. Look at me, I’m fine.” He caught my chin, forcing me to look up before he leaned to me, completely disregarding the other people around us as he kissed my tears away.

I sensed people moving and heard some shuffling as I closed my eyes, enjoying the way Jimin was calming me down before I reached and wrapped my arms around him, holding him close to me. The nurses started to leave, stopping briefly at Hoseok’s side to whisper something to him. I didn’t bother to look. All I could hear was his calm voice reassuring them, “I got this,” before the nurses walked out the door.

Another movement was made, and I could tell that it was possibly Jungkook trying to reach for me without even looking. But Hoseok must have stopped him when I heard him speak, “You need to leave. They’re calling security.”

“I just—” Jungkook’s voice came out deflated, as if his rage and all of his spirit were gone. “I just wanted to see her.”

“I know,” Hoseok told him. “But you’re only giving her stress and she needs to rest. Come back tomorrow. Just—leave before she decides she doesn’t want to see you.”

Nobody made another move for a brief moment, until I heard him call my name.

“_______?” Jungkook called me, sounding unsure about it before stopping himself when I tightened my arms around Jimin, shaking my head against his chest as I refused to look at my ex-husband or my brother. I could feel Jimin moving in my arms, turning us around a little to hide me away from Jungkook’s eyes.

I could vaguely guess that he might have looked over to Jungkook, challenging him somehow, because the next thing I heard was Jungkook’s voice, turning ice-cold and determined when he spoke, “Alright, I’ll come back tomorrow.”

Hard footsteps were heard leaving the room which I recognised as Jungkook’s, but I still kept my eyes closed, still kept my face buried in Jimin’s chest where I could hear his heartbeat slowly settling down to a steady pace. For some reason, I could feel my world and my hope crumbling to pieces, and Jimin was the last thread that was holding everything together, even if I could already feel it coming close to snapping apart.

After years of having him breaking his promises, Jungkook did return the next day as promised, right when the morning visitation hours had just started.

Hoseok had stayed for the night and he had just finished cleaning up what was remained of my breakfast. It was still early for Jimin to be here. And though I resented the fact that he would need the extra hours of resting in his room this morning that I would not be able to see him until the end of today, especially after what had happened last night, I was relieved that he was not present when Jungkook arrived. Even Jungkook had taken a brief moment to look around when he came into the room, as if he was searching for him, and was visibly relieved to see that Hoseok was the only person there.

“Can we talk?” Jungkook asked me, looking nervous when he spoke. The bags under his eyes were dark and deep, and it made me wonder if he also had trouble resting last night after the chaos he had created. I dreaded the thought of smelling any scent of liquor if he had gotten too close, since I knew he would always reserve to drinking whenever he got restless.

“Then talk,” was all I said to him, keeping my back resting against the pillows and my hands crossed on my lap.

Jungkook looked over between me and Hoseok who was now sitting next to the bed. “I was hoping that we can talk alone,” Jungkook added, yet he kept his eyes on Hoseok, as if he intended to say those words to my brother so he could leave.

“I don’t think—” Hoseok started to refuse, but I stopped him from finishing his sentence.

“That’s alright,” I told my brother, to which he turned to me with a concerned look on his face.

“Are you sure?”

I nodded. “I should listen to what he has to say. Besides, you have to return those to the nurses, don’t you?” I pointed at the tray and the half-empty plates he had set down on the bedside table and smiled to him. “And you haven’t had your breakfast and coffee yet. You should take a break for a few minutes. It’ll be fine.”

I could tell that my brother was not completely sure about leaving me alone with Jungkook, but I reached out to grab his hand and squeezed.

“Fine,” he finally said, sighing in defeat before his eyes glared at my ex-husband. “Don’t stress her out,” he said to Jungkook, then turned to me. “Call if you need anything. I’m leaving your cellphone beside the bed.”

Neither of us spoke a word after Hoseok left me and Jungkook alone in the room.

Jungkook had taken the empty chair Hoseok left behind and sat down on it. He had come in bearing gifts — a bouquet of flowers which was now resting on the bedside table, a small polar bear plushie which was now resting on my lap, and a small basket of fruits.

“This is—really nice of you,” I finally spoke once the silence and the tension around us became unbearable. My fingers were nervously pulling the soft fur on the polar bear’s tummy just so I could stop myself from feeling so tense around him. “Thank you. For the gifts, I mean.”

Jungkook nodded but kept his eyes on the bear. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry—” he started to speak, clearing his throat a little when his voice came out shaky, “—about last night. I, uh—perhaps I overreacted. I only came to see you, but then I saw you with—”

He stopped and clenched his jaw. I could not say a word and chose to wait until he continued to speak. I did promise to listen, after all. But then he only exhaled a deep breath and pointed at the bear in my hands. “I heard it can be lonely at night here. I know Hoseok stays the night with you but I figured the bear would be nice for you to keep, just in case you need something to hold on to.”

I chose not to correct him and tell him that either Yoongi or Jimin would take my brother’s place once in a while to keep me from feeling lonely, but I kept my mouth shut and gave him a smile instead. His words had also snapped something inside me that brought me back to the past, to remind me how often he would do this to me when we were still together, how he would come to me with small gifts just to surprise me and make me smile whenever he would notice me having a bad day.

That time in the past now seemed so long ago. For he had ruined those small, beautiful moments with all the painful ones. I looked down, shaking my head just to clear my mind out of it.

“Thank you. He’s really cute,” I told him while waving the polar bear’s hand at him. That had brought Jungkook’s lips to curl up into a smile and I could feel the tension between us slowly breaking down.

“I’m glad you like him,” he said, sighing in relief and smiling to me before asking, “How are you doing?”

Shrugging, I looked down on my lap as I answered, “I’m fine, but that’s only because you caught me on one of my good days. I got my bad days just as much as my good ones, so consider yourself lucky.”

Jungkook furrowed his brows. “What—what are your bad days like?”

Licking my dry lips, I began to answer cautiously, “Waking up with nauseous, drowsiness, or oftentimes, fever. Sometimes my skin will feel sensitive to any kind of touches while my tongue can barely taste anything and my throat will be in too much pain for me to swallow any food or water. Pain happening everywhere that I won’t even know where they begin and where they end. I’d sleep more than I am awake, then I’d wake up with my pillow filled with hair—” I stopped then and reached the top of my head, suddenly feeling self-conscious about myself and the fact that my hair had been thinning drastically after my last treatment.

Jungkook had placed his hands on the edge of my bed and he clenched them tightly. In fact, every single inch of his body was tense. His jaw ticked as his eyes followed the movement of my hand as I ran it up and down my thin hair. “Was that the reason why you cut your hair short?”

My hand stopped and I clutched the polar bear plushie on my lap with my hands. “I already started chemotherapy when I came by the house last time.” I closed my eyes as the memory from that day came back to me — the last time I lied on our bed with him, side by side, before he finally let me walk out the door. The reason why he came back and started acting this way was completely lost to me, when he had vowed to let me go and allow me to move on.

When I opened my eyes again, Jungkook still had his eyes closed shut. “What was it yesterday?”

I looked up to him and tried to read his expression just as he opened my eyes to me. But he showed me nothing as he waited for my answer.

“A little bit of both, I guess?” I finally answered him. “I just had a few test runs and 12-hours chemo the day before which gave me terrible exhaustion and pain. I was grateful I escaped the fever coming to me the next morning, but the pain was so surreal that I had to rest for the entire day. You came just as I had returned from a little tour Jimin gave me to get my mind out of the pain,” I explained to him, leaving out the fact that his first visit to my room was the first thing which had led me into that long, painful day.

A sudden change of mood trickled in the air and his expression hardened. His eyes turned ice cold all of a sudden, which threw me completely off guard. But before I could even question it, I quickly realised that I had mentioned his name.

“Jimin, hmm?” Jungkook questioned me with his hands clutched tighter. I could feel his rage coming while my anxiety rose up high. “Is he your new boyfriend? Was he the reason why you asked for a divorce? So you can be free to make out with him while you’re here in the hospital?”

How dare he, I cursed silently. I could not believe that he would think so low of me, or to accuse Jimin of anything so low. He knew exactly the reason why I wanted a divorce. I should have known that he would always turn the table and put the blame on me.

“You know the reason why I asked for the divorce, Jungkook. You knew and you agreed,” I said to him. I was seething with anger but I held myself back the best I could. I would not let him ruin my good day. Not again. “You can’t come here, asking for a chance to see me only to talk to me this way. What I do or don’t do while I’m in this hospital really is none of your business, Jungkook. Not anymore!”

“It is my business. It still is!” He suddenly burst into anger and pushed himself off the chair. He leaned over me to intimidate me with his dark gaze. He opened his mouth to speak but quickly snapped out of it. As if he just remembered Hoseok’s warning earlier, his eyes snapped wide open and he pulled back.

Yet the anger in his eyes remained.

With his hands clenched on his side, Jungkook stood by the window and spoke to me with a low voice, “I made my mistakes and I admit every single one of them. I will spend the rest of my life making things right for you, to tell you—no, to show you that I am sorry, that I truly, deeply regretted everything I have done to hurt you and all the things I did to ruin us. But my biggest mistake was to let you walk away, to let you leave. I am not going to make that mistake again, ______. I am not going to just sit down and do nothing as you fall into another man’s arms.”

As Jungkook kept talking, the intensity in his voice grew just as fast as his anger was rising. His whole body was shaking as he held back from reaching out to me, while his chest kept heaving, as he kept breathing quick and shallow to hold back that rage and jealousy he had even if I could see everything through his eyes.

He kept his eyes on me, locking me in place with his penetrating gaze when he continued without giving me a chance to speak, “I will spend the rest of my life begging for your forgiveness, for breaking your heart and for violating our marriage. But I really think you should know by now that if you carry on whatever it is you have with him, then you’ll be no different than me.”

I had been completely speechless and in shock to his rants, but his final statement was the one that surprised me the most. My heartbeat kept pacing rapidly inside my chest as my anxiety refused to settle, as if everything in me was letting me know that I would not be happy to hear whatever he was trying to say to me.

“What—” I tried to speak, but stopped myself when my voice got caught in my throat. My whole body was shaking, wariness came building inside my chest, but I clenched my fists around the plushie doll he gave me and forced myself to speak, “What on earth are you talking about?”

Jungkook straightened his back and looked straight into my eyes with full determination on his face. And then my suspicion was confirmed the moment he spoke, the moment he ripped apart every hope I ever had of having my last chance of happiness by saying,

“I never signed the papers. Do you know what that means? It means you are still my wife. You are still legally mine.”

Disclaimer: All works are written by myself. Any copyright infringement, reposting on any other social media or website, and any act of plagiarism will be dealt with legal action

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the-shy-shrimp · 3 years

Note

Well, hello! I am one of your readers from the AO3 and I just wanted to say that I enjoy your lotr related works very much! And since you allow asking for commission, there is one thing I would love to see if you ever felt inspired and that is Elrond Peredhel being hurt in a fight.

Adding in the rest of the ask because this came to me in three parts:

It seems that since he is a healer in most stories it is quite rare for him to get physically hurt – which is understandable of course... But I would love to see that written by you, as you are quite good at portraying this amazing hurt/comfort stories.

The floor is all yours, but maybe it would be nice to see how his family would react to that? Or any Imladris inhabitants. But you know, it’s just an idea, no pressure. Thank you very much! And whether you decide to use this idea or not I hope we will meet in some lotr-related work. Have a nice day! :D (And sorry for sending three asks - I am not used to Tumblr :c)

So here you go! Sorry it took forever, but I made a bad decision (very, very bad) when scheduling an exam that my entire career relied on me passing, so I was pretty brain dead for the two weeks after I got this ask... But here it is! Enjoy!

...

Pain is the first thing that registers when Elrond wakes, pain and the kind of bone-deep exhaustion that comes from fighting for one’s life.

Strange, he can’t remember being in a fight, not recently. Yet here he lays, sprawled out on the floor of his study, exhausted and aching for no clear reason. Attempting to move proves to be unwise, bringing dizziness and nausea with each shift, but the alternative of lying prone until someone finds him seems even more unsavory.

He goes slowly, first turning onto his side as he tries to deduce what has happened. His face and his jaw hurt the most by far, though the rest of his body is not far behind. But his jaw had been tightly clenched for several days now, likely the result of stressing over his third child’s imminent arrival, and so he finds it difficult to relate that symptom with the rest of what he feels. His hands wander over his body in a search for injuries. While he does not discover anything new, he does find his shoulder to be red and hot, the small puncture wound he sustained in a skirmish over a week ago now open and weeping. He groans internally at the finding.

It should have healed long before now, and that knowledge fills his gut with dread. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

The simple act of using the corner of his desk to pull himself upright leaves him shaking, and the idea of forcing himself to walk down the hallway to find Erestor is daunting to say the least. But it must be done. He presses onward, putting one foot in front of the other, desperately clutching whatever furniture seems sturdy enough to lend some support as he shuffles toward the door. Once out in the corridor there would be little to hold onto, unfortunately, but it was only a few yards between the doors to each of their workspaces. He would have to manage.

After fumbling with the doorknob for a moment, he breathes a sigh of relief upon finding the hallway to be entirely empty. The last thing he needs to be gawked at in his present state.

His movements are slow, but determined, as he makes his way along the wall, eventually coming to a stop in front of Erestor’s door. He attempts to knock before entering, but the sound is weak and piteous, barely heard over the sound of his own breathing. He has better luck with the doorknob this time around, and with minimal struggling, he tentatively steps into his friend’s space.

“Elrond? Is something the matter? You don’t look well.”

Erestor is at his desk, several papers in his hands and concern written across his face. He seems to be debating between getting up to rush over, and letting Elrond speak first.

The Peredhel swallows thickly, then gives an almost imperceptible nod, taking one, then two steps beyond the doorway. When he opens his mouth to speak, however, the ache that had thus far been sitting quietly in his jaw crescendos into a roar that races down his neck and back and into each of his limbs as pain engulfs his entire body.

A strangled cry is the only sound he makes, and Erestor’s cursing is the last thing he hears before the world goes dark.

“You really are the worst, you know.”

Erestor’s chiding is soft, lacking its usual barbed timbre, and is accompanied by the warm weight of a thick blanket settling over his body. The Peredhel gives him only a quiet sigh in return, blinking until the image of his friend comes into focus. He is not sprawled across the floor of Erestor’s office, as he halfway expected to be, but is instead tucked into a cot in the middle of an unfortunately familiar room. He groans, feeling even worse now than he did before, every muscle in his body wound tight as a bowstring, unable to relax no matter how much he ached.

It doesn’t take more than a minute before Elrond decides that he does not like being the one in the sickbed, and much prefers to stay within his role as a healer.

“Why didn’t you have the wound looked at when you returned? If one of your sons had pulled the same stunt you would have had their head on a platter.”

He can see the poorly veiled concern in Erestor’s expression, creeping through every time Elrond fails to suppress the violent shivers that come in waves almost too intense to bear.

“T-T-T’was only an, an, arrow…”

His voice is weaker, shakier than he would like it to be, stuttering as he tries to keep the shuddering at bay. His advisor only scowls down at him, looking more hurt than angry.

“Yes, only an arrow with a rusted head. If you were fully elven you might have been able to ignore such a detail, but you aren’t, Elrond! Now the poison is already in your blood, and it might just kill you. Andûnél says that it probably won’t, but there is still a chance.”

“I’m s-sure I’ll, I’ll be f-f-fine.”

Erestor leaps to his feet at that, sending the stool he had previously occupied flying back to clatter against the floor.

“Fine? You think this is fine? You cannot take risks with your life like this! What if you don’t make it, hm? Everyone in this valley depends on you, son of Eärendil. Your family depends on you. What if this is what does it? Would you leave your children to grow up fatherless, leave your people leaderless? You are all we have left, Elrond. They don’t have a high king to follow anymore, no one is going to step in and take care of things if you perish.”

He turns on his heel, disgust written on his face as he slams the door shut behind him.

Silence descends on the tiny room, and Elrond finds himself whimpering as the next wave of shivering hits him full force. He knows he isn’t alone, not truly. Someone will be around to check on him eventually. But for the moment he cannot help but feel abandoned. He wants Erestor to come back, but he will need time to sulk. He wants Celebrían, but he knows she won’t be back in Imladris for another week. Perhaps shamefully, he finds he wants Maglor most of all.

Maglor who had done his best in spite of circumstance, who made sure their needs were provided for. Maglor who held him when the tears didn’t seem to have an end. Maglor who sat with him late in the night when sleep wouldn’t come because of nightmares or insomnia or the disturbances that had come when his foresight finally began to manifest. Maglor who was the closest thing to a father he had ever really had.

It wasn’t until Andûnél knocked and entered that he realized there were tears in his eyes.

“Now, now, none of that.”

She sighs softly and dabs at the wet spots on his cheeks before anything else. He is grateful for the way her touches are nothing short of professional, devoid of the almost motherly tenderness they held when he and Elros were just young things being brought to her with scraped knees and sprains and broken bones. He already feels small and broken enough without being coddled.

Was it because Erestor had yelled at him? Probably. Being reminded of everything, everyone, that relied on him had left him feeling grossly inadequate. There was no high king. No one was around to supervise him and yank him out of his stupidity anymore. Ereinion couldn’t come to his rescue. Galadriel might, but not because she actually cared for him. She would come out of responsibility, and likely regret allowing her daughter to marry him as a result. Just a stupid, half-blooded fool who managed to survive long enough to reproduce in spite of his own idiocy—

“Elrond? Look at me, Elrond.”

He hiccups twice while trying to blink away the tears, and it takes several more minutes of dabbing at his eyes before he can actually see her face as more than just a wet blur.

“That’s better. Now, are you weeping because you are in pain, or because you are upset?”

“Pain.”

The single syllable is rasped out, barely louder than a whisper. The look in her eyes tells him that she knows he is lying, or at least telling only half the truth. Maybe the pain was a part of it, but Andûnél clearly knew it was just as likely a combination of the two.

“Alright. I can do something about that, at least.”

She leaves his line of sight immediately. If his neck didn’t ache so badly he might have tried to watch her, but he could barely move at all with how tense he was. He settles for staring at the ceiling and trying to breathe evenly. At least he could hear her moving about the room, and so he knew she hadn’t left him. Not like Erestor had.

Another whine escapes him at the thought.

“Hold on, I’m coming.”

He doesn’t get the chance to feel any more sorry for himself before she pries his lips apart and sticks a dropper full of bitter medicine in his mouth. It tastes foul, as all her tinctures do, but it works quickly, dulling the ache in a matter of only a few tense minutes, and for that he is grateful.

“Better?”

“Better.”

Elrond sighs, relaxing against the bed beneath him as the pain is driven back for the moment. He hadn’t noticed just how much the tension in his body was bothering him a moment ago, but with it now under control, its absence leaves him feeling weak and jittery.

“Unfortunately, there isn’t much we can do outside of managing the pain that comes with the muscle spasms.”

Andûnél’s voice feels far away, even if vaguely registers that she now sits beside him in the stool Erestor had previously discarded. She smiles down at him, looking tired above all else.

“There isn’t an antidote or any effective treatment for it. You’ll just have to wait it out until your body rids itself of the toxin.”

The idea sits poorly with him, although there isn’t anything he can do to change things, not now. The healer is quick to remind him, of course, that had he gotten the wound treated sooner, properly cleaned and bandaged as it should have been, he might have avoided this unpleasantness altogether. She says he ought to know better, and he knows she is right. But she takes his silence as exhaustion rather than the moping that it is, and mutters something about the two of them being the sole purpose someone came up with the adage that “healers make the worst patients” before tucking another blanket around him and getting up to leave.

“I will send Camaenor in to sit with you while I take care of some other things that need my attention. He will probably be so engrossed in whatever book he brings with him that you’ll hardly notice him, but at least he’ll be present if you need him.”

Elrond is asleep not long after Andûnél latches the door behind her, snatching up what sleep he can while he has the option. He’s seen this sickness before, in mortals wounded by pieces of old metal, and he knows that it is likely to get worse before it gets better.

When it does get worse, either Andûnél or her reedy apprentice are always present, ready and waiting with another draught for the pain and muscle spasms that make his limbs cramp and his back arch off the bed. The Peredhel is grateful that it is only the two of them who see him like this. Not that he doesn’t trust the discretion of the other healers, but he knows that Andûnél will not gossip, and Camaenor has been so absorbed in his studies that he is likely to follow his master’s trend.

The days all blend together, a cycle of sleeping until he is awoken by excruciating pain and downing more medicine until he can once again rest comfortably. More than once he wakes in the dead of night, due not to the constant muscle contractions, but instead because the apprentice perched nearby is struggling with his reading, stumbling over some new term or another and attempting to sound it out.

The first time this happens, it leaves Elrond confused and disoriented, wondering if the apprentice is trying to speak to him and his brain is simply failing to interpret the words. Eventually though, after hearing several similar sounding terms in a row, he realizes what is happening, and rasps out an answer.

“Parenchyma.”

Camaenor nearly jumps out of his skin when his charge suddenly speaks, but quickly recovers and nods his thanks before asking if he would like some water, or if he was in pain. Elrond decides then that the boy will make a good healer, someday, and resolves to help him study during his precious moments of wakefulness and clarity. It is the least he can do.

He loses track of how many days and nights he’s been bedridden, knowing only that it has been long enough for him to grow tired of it. The only break in routine comes when Erestor returns to his previous position, constructing a nest of bookwork at Elrond’s bedside to keep himself busy while he sits with him. He says nothing of the outburst that resulted in his several-days-long absence, but instead chatters on about all the things going on in the valley that he’s missed since this all started. Profit margins for new trade routes. Personal correspondences that need attention. Setbacks in planting a new section of the orchard.

His chief advisor says nothing of Celebrían’s whereabouts, and so he assumes that she has either not been informed of his current state or has chosen to remain with her parents until this has all blown over. Part of him hopes for the former. This pregnancy has already been hard enough for her, and it has only just begun. She doesn’t need the added stress.

It comes as a surprise, then, when the soft morning light brings him toward wakefulness and he is assailed not by the whole-body ache he has come to expect, but by the soft velvet of her lips on his. He sighs, thinking it must only be the remnants of some very pleasant dream, but the gentle brush of her fingertips over his eyelids tells him otherwise.

“Wake up, my love.”

A weak smile finds its way to his face, the first in days, as he slowly pries his eyes open. His silver queen is waiting for him, her soft expression framed by the wild platinum curls of her unbound hair. She kisses him again, more fiercely this time, and though his attempts at reciprocating are sloppy at best, it still fills his heart with joy.

They still cling to each other, even after Celebrían finally stops nibbling at his lower lip and stretches out on the bed beside her husband. Neither of them says a word about what happened, about what Elrond has suffered through in the past week, or about the fact that they are celebrating their reunion here instead of the quiet intimacy of their bedroom. None of it matters, though, at least not to the Peredhel.

The presence of his beloved is like a balm on his aching soul, and in her strong arms he is reminded of what it feels like to belong and be loved. He sighs, burying his nose in the tangled nest of her hair and breathing in the scent that is undeniably hers, causing her to giggle and throw her arm over his bared chest and drag him closer.

“I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.”

#fanfic #lord of the rings #requests are open #If you want one I'll make u one #just ask #I swear I'm not dead

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rebelbyrdie · 3 years

Text

Swan Queen Fic: The Looking Glass (2 of 3)

More Parallel Universe Shenanigans with a big dose of cuteness. Oh and a trigger warning for mentions of suicide/suicidal ideation.

No editing. No beta. This is true BS writing.

Mother was gone, again. Dead by her own hand. Regina was curled up in her bed. She was cold but couldn’t make herself move to pull back the covers. She was aching from head to toe. Inside and out.

Everything was lost. She had nothing and no one. She was more alone now then she’d ever been.

Mother, Father, Daniel. Maleficent. Tinkerbelle. Everyone she loved was gone. Perhaps it was better that Henry left. He was young, sweet and good. She was cancer. She could only poison him. Again. She’d already almost killed him once.

Evil Queen. She destroyed everything she touched. She killed everyone she loved. She had no soul. Evil Queen.

Perhaps it was time that the Evil Queen joined her loved ones. It was certainly not the first time she’d entertained the thought of suicide. It had been a sort of morbid fascination of hers for years. Since the night she’d felt Daniel grow cold and stiff in her arms. She had tried a few times, but had survived.

Father had found her just after the wedding and had forced her to vomit the liqour and nightshade she’d drank.

Tinkerbelle had caught her before her leap from the balcony had come to a sudden end.

Snow’s pity and conscience had gotten the better of her and she’d stopped the arrows at her execution.

There was no one to stop her this time. No reason to stop her.

Regina rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. Suicidal ideation had been the background radiation of her life for so many years that the thought of finally ending it all was almost comforting. Peace. She would finally have peace.

The town would probably declare it a holiday, complete with a ticker-tape parade. Children would be excused from school. There might even be a festival. They might even burn her in effigy every year and set off fireworks. Storyrbooke’s version of Bonfire Night.

Father would offer her wine and would keep her company until what he called her meloncholia had passed. He would tell her stories of his homeland and sing to her in Spanish until she fell asleep.

Mother would call her weak. Between torture and manipulation she would twist her suicidal thoughts into homicidal ones then release her onto an unsuspecting and defenceless Storybrooke.

Tinkerbelle would get her up and moving. Drag her out to drink and socialize. Make her see that there was something positive in the world left to see and do.

Daniel would hold her close. Call her sweetheart. Make her laugh and smile until the tears stopped.

Maleficent would lay in bed with her. They would get drunk, or perhaps high. Sometimes they had sex, sometimes not. She rarely said anything. She would stay, though. She always until she was sure Regina was stable again.

They were all gone, though, Regina was alone. If God, or Gods, or Fate or Destiny or whatever wanted her to live, they needed to send her a sign.

Regina had screamed this, or something similar, out into the void countless times. She’d never gotten an answer and didn’t expect one now.

Several things happened in rapid succession. The mirror in the corner of her bedroom started to shake. She turned her head just in time to see the glass ripple and violet smoke start to pour out of it. A small shadow came through the glass. Then the mirror shattered. Glass fell everywhere and the shadow started to scream and cry.

A child’s cry. Her instincts reacted before her brain did. She jerked out of the bed and turned on the lamp in one move. She hit her feet and scooped the tiny figure off of the mirror covered floor. Then she breathed. The lamp filled the room with a little warm light.

The shadow in her arms was a child. A little girl, to be precise. She was screaming, crying and clinging to her fiercely.

It had been years since Regina had held and soothed a toddler. She had no idea what had happened or who the girl was, but that didn’t matter. She was here and she clearly needed someone to take care of her. How could anybody, even an Evil Queen, do anything else? So she shushed the girl, and rocked her.

Regina stepped around the glass then, belatedly, remembered that she had magic. She cleared the mess away with a flick of her hand. Then she returned her attention to the girl.

“It’s okay, princess.” She didn’t know the girls name so she improvised. “You’re safe. Whatevers happened is all over now. You’re safe. No one is going to hurt you here. I’ve got you.”

When Henry had been this age, that was often all he’d needed to hear. His Mommy had him and would keep him safe.

Regina started to humm as she stroked the child’s back and carded her fingers through her tangled curls. She hummed an old lullaby. The same one she’d used with Henry. The same one her father had sang to her. She didn’t remember the words anymore, but she did know the tune.

Slowly, after several minutes of humming and rocking, the baby started to speak. Her voice was small and shaky but Regina could hear and understand her.

“Hair, Mommy.”

The girl looked up and Regina was struck by her eye. They were a haunting mix of blue and green. They were familiar, but she couldn’t quite place how.

“Where hair?”

Regina hadn’t been called Mommy in years. She had no idea why this tiny stranger was calling her that, but it didn’t matter at the moment.

“My hair?”

She regarded the girl. Children were odd little creatures at the best of times. This girl was small, but based on her speech and the fact that she was not (as far as Regina could tell) wearing a diaper, she had to be around three or so.

Big tears started to form and fall from the baby’s eyes. “Hair. Hair. Hair.” She reached up and tried to hold onto Regina’s dark hair. It was too short for much of a grip, though.

The little girl’s breathing started to hitch and wheeze. Regina blinked and jerked when she realized that the girl sounded like she was about to have an asthma attack. Regina knew because she’d been afflicted with asthma when she’d been small too.

She didn’t have an inhaler. They’d have to go to the hospital. Her brian started to go into overdrive.

“Hair!” The girl was crying and her breathing was becoming worse. She was starting to panic and Regina had no idea why.

So she closed her eyes, concentrated and let her magic do the work. Her hair, kept short for years, started to grow. Her magic allowed her hair to grow long and thick quickly. It hit then spilled over her shoulders in seconds. Now weighed down her hair started to wave, curl, then spiral. It kept growing. If she had a mirror, she was sure that it would be astonishing to see.

Little hands grabbed on and wrapped around her hair. A little face hid against it. The girl slowly calmed down again. Her sobs turned to sniffles and her wheezing returned to a calm and normal breathing pattern. Not asthma, Regina realized, panic. The toddler had been having a panic attack and her hair was acting like a security blanket.

She stopped the spell when the girl finally calmed all the way down. Her hair was now as long as it had been when she’d been a girl. It was more then waist long and if she wasn’t careful, she would sit on it.

“Mommy.” The girl spoke quietly. After the ordeal she had tired herself out. “The scary lady not here?”

Most people would say that Regina was a scary lady. This little girl obviously disagreed.

“No, my little princess, she’s not here.”

“Safe?”

It was such a sad and scary thing for a three year old to ask. Regina’s heart hurt and she wondered what the girl had seen and lived through. What had she been through to make her so scared?

“You’re safe with me. We’re safe here.”

The baby yawned. “Kay. Mama sent.”

That didn’t make much sense, of course three year olds weren’t exactly fountains of information either.

The girl pulled a folded piece of paper out of the oversized tunic she was wearing.

“Read please.”

Regina unfolded the paper and squinted at the writing. She didn’t have her glasses, but even without them, she recognized thee handwriting. It was her own.

//Dear Regina,

There is not much time now. This is Helena. She turns three on November the eighth//

So Regina had guessed correctly. She was almost three, but she was very small for her age. She was reading out loud in a slow and soft voice. She pointed at each word.

She had read to Henry that way too. He’d loved being read to. Of course she had read him Curious George and If You Give a Mouse a Cookie.

//There is war here and we are being hunted. Helena is not safe here so we are sending her to you. To me. To us.

To simplify things, I am you and you are me. The difference is that you cast the Dark Curse and I did not. Marcus DeLawl was right about parallel realms.//

Really? She’d read his books and theories years ago. Most people had considered him to be an idiot or a madman. She had thought it was plausible. There were separate realms: Oz, Wonderland, The World Without Magic. Why not alternates? She had seen countless television shows and movies about it. She had even read about string theory and the theoretical physics that surrounded it. Of course she now had living and breathing proof of alternate realities.

“You-” She looked at the girl curled up on her lap. She-Helena- was sucking her thumb and playing with Regina’s hair. “-are from a parallel universe?”

Helena didn’t answer, but Regina hadn’t expected her to.

//Protect her. She is the only good thing I’ve ever done.//

She recognized her signature at the bottom. Her heart went out to this other Regina. They were different. That Regina had not cast the Curse. They were the same, they were both mothers who just wanted to protect their babies.

Her baby, Henry, was across town. He would be an amazing brother. It was funny. Helena looked a bit like Henry when he was her age. It was the shape of her nose and ears. It was the shape of her front teeth and the way that her little incisors were a little crooked. Henry had sucked his thumb too.

Helena was asleep. A sleeping baby was the most calming thing in the world. She very carefully stood to pull the covers back from the bed so she could ease Helena into the middle of the bed. She arranged the pillows on the far side of the bed to make sure she didn’t roll.

She’d done the same for Henry. She had co-slept with him for longer than the books recommended. He had been such a cuddly little boy. She missed him, desperately. It was a physical pain in her chest.

Regina looked down at the girl, Helena. Her heart lurched in her chest. A daughter. A little trans-dimensional angel. She already loved her.

Regina wanted to hide Helena away. She wanted to keep her safe and secret. She knew that would lead to disaster. Emma, Henry and the Two Idiots would never leave her alone. It would only be a matter of time. They would eventually demand something, or blame something on her. They would come knocking and when they saw Helena it would be war.

Not to mention that children did not do well when they were cooped up. No. Helena was here now and for who knew how long. While she was in Storybrooke, Regina wanted her to enjoy herself. She wanted to show the little girl everything this world had to offer.

So they were going to Granny’s for Helena’s first breakfast. After that she was taking her to the toy store. Then they needed to get her clothes and some furniture. Regina needed to convert one of the guest bedrooms. Helena deserved a bedroom fit for well, a princess.

Regina dressed carefully, conservatively. She layered fabrics like armor. She wore a three piece suit, complete with waist coat, all black. She put on a dark purple blouse beneath. She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror with a critical eye. She would need to do a full makeup job today. To hide the lack of sleep and the fact that she had spent most of last night crying, mourning. She was wearing mourning colors. It was appropriate, she supposed. Mother had only died yesterday, after all.

Mother.

Regina paused. If Helena had arrived even a day earlier then Cora would have seen her. Met her. Hurt her. Regina wrapped her arms around herself. The dichotomy of pain and relief was wreaking havoc with her emotions.

“Up.” Helena tugged on her pants leg. “Please.”

The little girl was very quiet and nervous. She took everything in with wide eyes but asked very few questions.

That worried Regina Three year olds were practically 90% questions. Henry had been, at least. The girl had to be confused by what she saw around her. Regina had spent hours in the bathroom alone in the first days of the curse. It had all been fascinating and new. She’d wanted to know everything.

She didn’t want to intimidate the girl, though. She was only a baby, and had already been through enough trauma.

She sat her on the counter between the two sinks. “Well, Princess. What shall you wear today?”

The little dressing gown she wore might have been acceptable in The Enchanted Forest, but it would never do in Maine.

Helena didn’t answer. She was playing with Regina’s hair instead.

“Helena.” She wasn’t sure how to talk to the girl. She was so different then Henry. “Do you want a dress or breeches and a tunic?” She was careful to use words that Helena would recognize.

The girl looked up from Regina’s hair.

“You’re not wearing a dress.”

Regina nodded. “Today I’m wearing breeches because I want to.”

“Mama likes breetches.”

Regina frowned at the word. She switched between Mommy and Mama occasionally. Regina wasn’t sure if she was trying to differentiate between her and the other universe’s Regina or not.

The girl still seemed unsure, scared. There had been so many fast and drastic changes in her little life.

Regina smiled. “Or we can do both?” A dress and tights might be a good compromise. It would, perhaps, make the decision easier and it would ensure that Helena was warm enough. “What is your favorite color?”

Surely she knew her colors. This alternate version of herself would have taught her that at least.

“Yellow.” Helena answered immediately.

Regina smiled and booped the girl on the nose with a single finger. “I like yellow too.”

She closed her eyes, pictured a little girl’s clothes in her head and conjured them. They appeared on the counter with a small purple swirl. Helena didn’t seem surprised or impressed with the magic. She did, however, like the dress. It was bright yellow with a sequined duck on the front and ruffled sleeves. White tights and underpants, and tiny yellow canvas shoes.

“Okay, Princess. Lets get you dressed.”

She had to adjust the sizes a little as they went, but overall it was a painless process.

“Hair.”

Helena grabbed a hairbrush, something the same in both worlds.

“Of course, darling. Do you want one braid or two?”

Helena’s hair, one braid like Mommy apparently, was quick, easy and topped off with a yellow bow. Her own, much longer, hair took more time.

Helena’s hair was the same curl and texture as her own, but a couple of shades lighter. The same went for her skintone. It was lighter than Regina’s own. Who had her father been? Daniel? No she was far too young for that. Graham, perhaps? The timing was closer to correct. Had there been someone else?

“Who is you father, Helena?”

She asked while she was trying to deal with her hair. Now she remembered why she’d kept a couple of handmaidens around as Queen.

Helena answer came in the form of a giggle. “No! You silly!”

Tired of fighting with her hair, she used magic to secure the rest of the intricate braid and pinned all but a small section up and back. She left a braided section down and over her shoulder so Helena had something to hold on to.

“No, you’re the silly one!”

Duckies. Regina decided as she scooped the girl up. She would need to buy rubber duckies for her. Henry had preferred dinosaurs and, oddly, cows as his bathtime companions. Helena would have an entire family of ducks to play with. Bubble bath. Children’s shampoo. Detangling spray.

They had so much to buy!

“Come on. Let’s go face the day.”

Helena grabbed onto her braid as an answer.

Regina decided that the car was too much to explain to a three year old who had never seen anything more advanced then a carriage. So she put on her peacoat and conjured Helena a matching one in yellow.

Yesterday she had been on a rampage in town with her mother. Today she was going shopping with her daughter from another world. Regina was reasonably sure that shock was what allowed her to keep moving forward. She was well and truley numb to the emotional implications of everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. Eventually she would probably crumble.

Right now was not that time.

“This is Storybrooke, Helena. You are safe here.”

She walked with Helena on her hip. The closer she got to town, the more people there were. Some stared. Some ran.

Regina held her head up high and ignored them. Helena tugged on her braid and said nothing.

“We are going to break our fasts at an inn.” She had to force herself to use language and phrases that she had abandoned years ago. She didn’t want to confuse the girl.

“Then we are going to go to some shops to buy some clothes and toys for you.”

Helena turned and hid her face in Regina’s neck. She was overwhelmed.

Regina had purposely waited until after the usual morning rush to go to Granny’s. She hoped it would be quiet. She entered and was relieved to see that only a few people were scattered through the restaurant.

She made a bee-line to one of the booths furthest from the door. Granny stood in the middle of the aisle, arms crossed and glaring at her. Regina was shocked that she didn’t have her crossbow.

“You’ve got some nerve Your Majes-” Eugenia stopped mid-word. “Who’s this?”

The woman was many thighs, but she wasn’t cruel. She could see a tiny child in her arms.

“Mrs. Lucas. This is Helena and before you run off to call the cavalcade of heroes, sit down and I will explain.”

Granny huffed and narrowed her eyes, but let Regina pass.

“Sit.” She paused before sitting across from Regina. “Does the little one need a booster?”

Regina shook her head. She was very sure that getting Helena off of her lap would be an impossible task.

“Darling, we’re going to sit down. I have someone I’d like you to meet.” She quickly removed Helena’s coat and then her own overcoat.

She and Helena settled into the booth seat.

“Helena, this is Mrs-Granny. This is Granny. Granny, this is Helena. She just arrived last night.”

Helena didn’t hide her face, but she kept a tight grip on Regina’s braid.

“Manners, please, Helena.”

The little girl straitened up. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Granny.”

It was the longest sentence Regina had heard the girl say. It was also, obviously, practiced.

“And a pleasure to meet you, Helena.”

Granny looked between the two of them and Regina could see the cogs turning in her head.

“She arrived through my mirror last night.” Regina pulled the letter from her inside blazer pocket. “She had this with her.” She handed the letter to Granny. “She calls me Mommy and is absolutely terrified.”

It was, Regina knew, an outrageous story. She also knew that her credibility was not exactly stellar.

Granny read over the note then looked at the two of them. “That explains the smell.”

Regina raised a brow.

“The little princess reeks of the old world, magic and something odd. Sometime I’ve never smelled before. Another world could explain it.”

Said princess was currently staring at Granny with her head cocked to the side. Almost as if she recognized her, but not quite.

“But you don’t recognize her?” Regina knew it was a ridiculous question, but she had to ask.

“No. She favors you, though. Your father too, for that matter. Not so much your moth-” Granny stopped abruptly. “My condolences, Regina. I don’t have any nice words to say about her, but she was your mother.” Her mouth twisted. “Lost a mother and gained a daughter on the same day. The universe works in mysterious ways.”

Regina blinked. She hadn’t expected any of this. Not the condolences. Not for someone to call Helena her daughter. Not the kindness nor the understanding.

“What are you going to do?” Granny smiled. “Besides get this baby some breakfast?”

Regina remembered this. Granny had been kind to her like this before. When Henry had been small and she had been struggling to learn how to be a mother.

“I-” She didn’t know. “-am going to buy her some things. I don’t know how long she’ll be here. I want to take care of her while she is.”

Granny nodded. “And in the grand scheme of things?”

Regina chuckled. It was a dark and bitter sound. “I have no idea.”

She had no idea where the honesty was coming from. “It will only be a matter of time before everyone knows about her and then.” She sighed. “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

Granny nodded. “Red!”

Her grandaughter instantly jerked around and scurried over. She got about halfway there when she sped up to an almost run. She’d obviously spotted Regina and was about to rescue her grandmother from the Evil Quen.

Regina could tell, right down to the second, when she saw Helena. Ruby almost tripped over her own feet.

“Is that a kid?”

Helena suddenly stood up. Her feet dug into Reginas thighs painfully.

“Auntie Red?” She finally let Regina’s braid go. “You has two eyes.”

Everyone went silent.

“Where’s my Bell-Bell?”

Regina was absolutely flabbergasted. Had she just called Ruby her aunt and asked for Belle French?

“What the fu-”

Granny’s glare stopped the curse from coming out of Ruby’s mouth.

“-ddle is going on?”

“Do you know her, Ruby?”

Ruby shook her head. “She looks like you and smells weird.”

Regina could not believe what was happening.

“I’ll go get some pancakes.” Granny stood up. “While you bring Ruby up to speed.”

The explanation was short and Ruby nodded along.

“Princess?” Regina held Helena’s little hands in her own. “You know Ruby-I mean Red? Can you tell me.”

“Silly Mommy.” Helena rolled her eyes. It was like watching a miniature of herself be sarcastic. It was odd yet endearing. “Safe is Mommy, Mama, Abuelo, Auntie Red and Bell Bell.”

Again it sounded practiced, like something that had been drilled into the toddler.

“If no safe be Jane.”

“Jane?” Regina didn’t understand.

“If no safe then I Jane. Jane from Potter Field. Mommy gone. Daddy farm.”

A three year old had been taught to lie about her identity? Wait. Abuelo?

“You know your Abuelo, Princess?”

Helena shook her head, almost amused by Regina’s questions. “Him Henry. With Bell Bell.”

Her father was alive. Of course. If she hadn’t cast the curse then she hadn’t murdered him. He was alive. He had a grandchild that he got to meet and know.

Completely unaffected by Regina’s emotions and Red’s confusion, Helena kept speaking.

“Red. How you get two eyes?” She covered her left eye with her hand. “Awoos?”

She looked around, far more alert and interested in her surroundings now. “Abuelo and Bell Bell here too?”

Regina felt her heart crack and tears burn in her eyes. “No.” She had to push the word out around the lump in her throat. “No, Baby, Abuelo isn’t here.”

Granny came back by with a mug of coffee and a cup of milk.

“Here you go.”

Regina tried to pick up the mug but her hand was shaking.

“She knows about my wolf.” Red sounded amazed. “And keeps asking for Belle.” Ruby paused. “And her paternal grandfather. This is weird. Even for Storybrooke, and that is saying something.”

Now comfortable and seemingly happy, Helena took a drink of milk, which gave her a large milk mustache.

“Oh my god she is so cute. She looks just like Hen when he was that age.” Ruby all but squealed. “I remember when you guys would come in just like this. He was a lap baby too. Oh. I mean. Sorry, Regina.”

Ruby blinked and had an odd look on her face. Like she had forgotten that they had all remembered. For a second everything had been normal again.

“Jeeze this is weird. Just. So. Weird.”

The enormity of the situation was hitting Regina now. The numbness was fading. Pain and fear were creeping in.

“Are we supposed to fight now?”

Ruby sounded genuinely confused. Like she had just stepped through a mirror into an alternate world too. Regina felt that way too. Everything was twisting, turning and warping. She didn’t know what to say next.

Regina didn’t have any fight left in her. She wasn’t even sure she would be out of bed if not for Helena. The next time she asked the universe for a sign, she would be more specific.

“Please, no.”

Red was loyal to Snow, and Regina knew that the woman was itching to run to her friend.

Wait. Red was loyal to Snow. Why would she be a safe person for Helena? She and Snow were bitter enemies. Therefore so were she and Red. Was the other world that different?

The bell over the diner door rang and Ruby turned her head to see who it was. Regina didn’t bother to look. She didn’t care. She had too much to worry about already.

Suddenly, Helena jumped up again. She clambored onto the table and then jumped down.

“Mama!”

She ran as fast as her little legs could go and crashed right into the newcomer.

Regina stood to go get her and apologize when the word Mama registered in her mind. Then she looked up and saw a very bewildered Emma Swan.

The stress of the last two days. The death of her mother. The apperance of her daughter. An alternate world. Now this. Emma Swan was the mama, the other mother, of her child. Again.

She felt like she was under water. She was moving, but slowly. She could see people speaking, but couldn’t hear them. She couldn’t breath.

Dark dots danced in her eyes then she was gone.

***

One normal day. That was all Emma wanted. One day without witches, goblins, dragons or magical shenanigans. She just wanted coffee, a doughnut (or three), and some peace and quiet.

She had a lot on her mind. Like more than she’d ever had to fit in her brain at the same time ever.

Neal, like the jackass who had knocked up, framed up and fucked her all up, was Rumplestiltskin’s son. He was a fucking fairytale character too. Who had abandoned her for her destiny, or so he said. She called bullshit, but whatever.

Snow. She had withdrawl into her bed and was acting like a zombie. Which was sort of ridiculous, if you asked Emma. It hadn’t been her Mom that had died. Not that Emma was pro Cora or anything, but still. Snow had been way out of line and was now acting like she was the victim. David was fawning over her too. Emma didn’t think any of it was right or sane. What did she know though, she was new to all of this fairy tale bullshit.

Henry. She had a kid. Who relied on her and wanted her to be his parent. Like, full time. She was starting to realize that she didn’t know how to be a parent. She was the cool, fun, cut class and eat pizza mom. She didn’t know how to do homework or laundry or, like, groceries. She could barely take care of herself. She was currently living with her own parents for fucks sake. She had exactly no idea what she was doing. The Kid kne that too, because he’d grown up with a perfect mom. Regina.

Regina. Good God, Regina. She was. Well, Emma wasn’t even sure how to describe Regina. Regina punched me in then face once, it was awesome. Emma rolled her eyes at her own stupid brain joke. Seriously, though, Regina did pack a punch. She also loved Henry with every bit of her batshit insane heart and soul. She also loved her mother. Which Emma sort of understood. People with abusive parents (and she had no doubts that Cora had abused Regina) still loved them. Now Cora was dead and Regina was alone. Like, totally alone. Emma hated that she felt guilty. She knew she hadn’t killed Cora, but she certainly hadn’t helped either.

She had even threatened Regina, had hurt her. A fight was a fight and Regina had given as good as she’d got. Emma wasn’t sure why she felt so shitty about the whole thing.

Because. She reminded herself. You have a big ol’ lesbian crush on her.

Emma really needed to stop binge watching old movies. Movie quote or not, it was true. She did, sort of, have a thing for Regina. A tiny thing. Like lust with some extras. Not love or anything. Not that. Just intense interest and worry and stuff.

So yeah. She had a lot on her plate. So she just wanted to fill up an actual plate with sugar and carbs. She wanted five damn minutes to think. She wanted to not be the savior anymore. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to be the Sheriff either. She just wanted a day, an hour, a damn minute, to herself.

So when she walked into Granny’s, of course all hell broke lose.

Hell came in the form of a toddler running at her.

“Mama!” A kid, a very tiny human, launched themselves at her legs and squeezed like their little life depended on it.

“Mama! Up!”

Emma didn’t know what the hell to do. When a kid, no a tot really, asked to be picked up, you had to do it. It was, like, the law or something. She picked up the tot, a girl, and took a good look at her.

The little girl was dressed in yellow, had dark curly hair and. Emma felt the rug being pulled out from under her. The world turned upside down and inside out. The tot had her eyes. Same shape, same color, same everything.

She looked away from the girl. Regina was standing there, staring at them.

Regina, of course it was Regina. Why wouldn’t it be her?

She opened her mouth to say something. To demand an explanation. To ask her if she was okay. To ask who this tot really was. Emma didn’t get to say anything.

Regina’s eyes fluttered, rolled back and then she fell. She fainted and would have smacked the ground if Ruby hadn’t been right there to catch her.

“Mommy!” The girl screamed and squirmed. “Mommy!” She was fighting to get out of Emma’s arms. So she put the girl down. Shewent right to Regina. “Mommy.” She grabbed Regina’s hair and tugged on it. “Mommy!” She was starting to cry.

Emma felt completely and utterly helpless. Regina was a mommy again. Henry’s and now, apparently, Helena’s mommy. A mommy who had fainted. Her baby mommy?

“What.” Emma choked out. “The. Hell.”

Ruby picked Regina up like she weighed nothing. “C’mon. I’ve got the Queen. You get the princess.” Ruby shook her head. “Freaking Wierd.”

Emma followed Ruby back into the Inn’s parlor. Regina was unconcious. The kidlet was squealing. Emma had no idea what was going on and already hated it.

Ruby arranged Regina on the couch and frowned down at her. “Probably hasn’t eaten in a while. Since, uh, you know.”

Sure. Yeah.

“Go ahead and sit down, Ems. I’ll catch you up.” She motioned to one of the nearby overstuffed chairs. “Trust me, you’re gonna want to sit for this.”

The tot went to Regina. She fussed around with her hair and grabbed a chunk of it. Emma blinked. A big chunk. Regina’s hair had grown by like five times since she’d last seen her. Which made about the same amount of sense as anything else.

“So. We’re kind of pieceing this together as we go.” Ruby sighed. “But pretty much. This is Helena and we’re pretty sure she’s your and Regina’s daughter from another dimension sent here to escape a war. She got here last night through a magical mirror portal. She calls me Auntie Red and might know Belle too. Regina’s uh-”

Ruby looked at the unconscious woman. “Handling it pretty well, or she was until the whole fainting thing.”

Emma frowned. Regina had fainted. That wasn’t right, right? Like it wasn’t healthy. Also the tot was super upset about it. She should do something? Right?

She looked at Ruby for answers, but the other woman seemed just as clueless.

Emma stood up and went over the the couch. She carefully patted Regina’s shoulder.

“Um, Regina?” She patted her again. “You okay?”

Regina didn’t stir an inch. Emma sank down to the carpet beside the couch. She looked over at the kid. “So, Tatertot, I guess we’re going to wait until Mommy wakes up.”

“Kiss, Mama. Kiss. Wake up Mommy.” She tugged on Emma’s sleeve. “Kiss!”

Granny came in with a couple of plates.

“Apparently you and Regina were a couple in her world. She believes in true love.”

Well the Tatertot was way wrong. In this world she and Regina weren’t lovers, in love or even like. Regina hated her and Emma had confusing feelings. Not exactly a true love scenario.

“Here, Little One.” Granny brought her a plate of silver-dollar pancakes with a smiley face made out of whipped cream. “Your Mommy wanted you to eat.”

Emma watched the girl. She looked at the plate with big hungry eyes, but she hadn’t let go of Regina’s hair. It was like her teddy bear or something.

“Hey. I’ve got Mommy. I’m right here to keep her and you safe. You eat and then we’ll figure out the rest.”

Emma looked over Regina’s still face. Despite the makeup, she could see that she was exhausted. At this angle she tell that Regina had lost weight. It showed in her hollow cheeks and slender-gone bony hands. She had felt thin in Emma’s arms yesterday, almost boney - fragile in more ways than one.

Yesterday.

God, Emma didn’t want to think about that.

“Oh.”

Well, she didn’t have time to think. Now she had to figure out what to say and fast.

“My head.”

“Mommy!” Helena immediately jumped into action. She put a little hand each of Regina’s cheeks. “Safe. Mama here.”

Regina’s eyes darted to the side to see Emma. “You’re Helena’s other mother?”

It was freakishly like the first time they’d met. “Um.” Emma hadn’t known what to say that night with Henry either. “Hi?”

So one thing had lead to another and after everyone had been properly fed and caffeinated, Emma walked with Regina and Helena to every store in town. Like it was a normal, every day, situation.

Like having a magical-lesbians-daughter from another dimension was totally normal. Sure!

#wip

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soheila-1996 · 4 years

Text

Wake up, Rookie (Alternate ending!)

Paring: Ethan x F!MC

Word count: 3,011

Warnings: panic attack

Catch up here

Tags: @dulceghernandez @rookie-ramsey @choicesandanimeruleme @aylamwrites @ethansmommyissues @schnitzelbutterfingers @therookie @lilyvalentine @sitihania @cordoniaqueensworld @eramsey28 @lucy-268 @swimmingauthordreamerbonk @utterlyinevitable

Any feedback is always super appreciated! :) All characters belong to Pixelberry

(Ethan’s POV)

We’re approaching two weeks since Casey was admitted, Since the accident and nothing has really changed. Some cuts and bruises on her face and all over her body have started to heal but not much else has happened. I’m back at work, somewhat. I can hardly concentrate when I’m away from her and not sleeping isn’t helping either. All I’ve been doing is going to my office and looking over some notes and doing paperwork- it’s a distraction. The problem is it doesn’t actually distract me. My thoughts, my heart is on a completely different floor and It’s all I can think about. There’s no distracting myself from this. Even when I’m sometimes able to get some sleep, seeing her in that bed, in that state always plagues my dreams. Every day is like another painful blow when nothing happens. When she doesn’t wake up.

I drop the pen in my hand back down onto the desk. I can’t sit here and pretend that everything is okay when it really isn’t. This place once felt like my home in a way. My work, this place meant the world to me and now I can’t stand the sight of it. I hate being here but when I go home, not that I’ve been back to the house much, I’m surrounded by even more things that remind me of Casey. Remind me of that night. I’ve made a fair few mistakes in my time but letting her walk out will always be the thing I regret the most. This whole, heartbreaking ordeal is making me slowly lose my sanity. I like solving problems, I like fixing things and I just can’t fix this. There is nothing I can do to fix this.

I stand up from my desk after placing all the papers into a neat pile then leave my office. There’s no point being in here since I’m seemingly incapable of thinking about anything else. Naveen has said I could take as much time as I need off of work. I thought that helping someone else would distract me but It doesn’t. It just reminds me of the one person I want to help more than anything but I can’t. I lock my office door as I leave and make my way to the nearest elevator.

When I reach Casey’s room Abigail is just walking out. We quickly exchange pleasantries and she tells me she’s heading outside to get some fresh air and to meet Anthony. Her dad hasn’t really been here all that much, I understand though, It’s hard seeing someone you love like this.

As I sit down, I take her hand into mine. “This is getting ridiculous now, Case. I know you like your beauty sleep but this-” I say gesturing to her in the bed, “This is taking it up a notch. Please, please just wake up, Rookie.”

Everyone is affected differently by a head injury. The truth is we just don’t know what this has done to her until she wakes up. If she wakes up.

There’s a huge possibility of brain damage. Brain damage? That could mean so many things. What if she does? What is her life going to be like? There are so many things, so many consequences just those two words could possibly mean and that’s terrifying. This entire situation makes me feel physically sick. It’s so incredibly hard to watch someone you love

Her life could potentially be so incredibly different to how it was before all of this. Of course, I want her to wake but I’m terrified. What if she can’t do so many of the other things that she could before this? What if this affects her career. Being a doctor, saving people's lives means the absolute world to her. I’m dreading finding out if she’ll have any lasting side effect from this.

Just then, Abigail and Anthong make their way in and take a seat on the other side of the bed. I guess the one good thing to come out of this is that I’ve gotten to know her parents better but that’s not really important right now.

Some time goes by before either of us speak again, Anthony left to go and stretch his legs a short time ago. “Ethan,” Abigail calls to me quietly. I look up from my lap and over to her and she gestures to Casey. From where I’m sitting I can see her eyes starting to flutter.

“Can you go and get Harper?” Abigail nods and rushes out of the room. I stand up and move closer to the bed, moving into Casey’s line of view. The heart monitor Casey is connected to alerts me of her spiking heart rate. “Casey it’s okay. Calm down. It’s okay.” I have no idea if she understands what I’m saying to her and since she still has a tube down her throat she can't talk to me.

She uncoordinately and with much more effort than should be needed, Casey brings her weak arm up to her mouth, grabbing hold of the tube. I place my hands over her and gently push them away. “I’m going to take that out, okay? It’s alright.”

Just as I start to reach for a pair of gloves, Harper rushes in. “I’ll do it,” she insists. “Abigail, you might want to leave the room,” Harper advised as she gets a pair of gloves and slips them one easily.

Abigail refuses to leave and so Harper gets on with it. Removing the tube is never a nice thing, Casey gags a lot but Harper gets it out of it fairly quickly.

Harper moves out of the way so Abigail and I can get step up closer to the bed. Her eyes are darting around the room. She must be so confused. I can’t imagine how confusing this all must be.

“It’s okay,” I whisper, “You’re in the hospital, you were in an accident but you’re okay, Case,” I explain to her quietly.

“I’m here too,” Abigail adds, “And dad is here too. He’s just gone for a walk.”

Her eyes continue to dart back and forth between us both. She gives neither of us an indication that she understood what we just told her. “Casey, do you understand what I’m saying.”

Once again she doesn’t respond. “Casey?” I ask, grabbing hold of her hand.

“I can’t move,” She tells me. Her voice is raspy and quiet. Abigail leans in closer to her.

“What Honey?” I can see the terrified expression that plastered over her face as she asks her daughter to repeat what she just said.

“M c-can’t m-move,” she repeated. Panic immediately washes over me as I glance at Harper.

Why can’t she move? This isn’t happening.

I run my fingers through her hair to soothe as she begins to panic. “Shhh…It’s okay, Casey. It’s okay.”

“S-scared,” She whispers. She winces at the pain in her throat that the tube has caused. Her voice is barely audible.

“You don’t need to be, sweetheart,” Abigail chimes in. I can’t begin to imagine how scared and confused she is right now. She doesn’t deserve this. Nobody does.

“Tired,” She murmurs as her eyes start fluttering shut again.

“Get some rest,” I whisper. It doesn’t take long for her eyes to flutter shut.

***

It’s nearly an hour later when Harper leads Anthony, Abigail and I to a vacated board room. . I take a seat beside Abigail, Anthony takes the other side of her and Harper sits opposite us all.

“Okay, good news is Casey does have some feeling in both her legs,” Harper explains, “Two weeks is a long time to now be moving. After her legs have healed is going to need some physical therapy to get some strength back. Her memory is a little bit off, she doesn’t remember much from the accident but that’s what we’d expect anyway.”

“But she...she remembers everyone, right?” I ask. I think back to when she woke up, she didn’t say any of our names or gave an indication that she recognised us.

“Yes, she knows who her pain in the ass boyfriend is,” Harper says with a small smirk. “All in all, she’s doing really well.”

(Casey’s POV)

The next time I open my eyes, they’re thankfully not stung by the harsh light like they had been earlier. I vaguely remember waking up, seeing Ethan and my parents but nothing else. The memory is so vague that it almost feels like it was a dream or something.

I turn my head to the side and see Bryce sitting in the chair next to my bed, scrolling through his phone. I wonder where Ethan is.

“Lahela ” I whispered. My throat feels like it’s burning feeling like it’s burning. It feels like it’s literally on fire. Bryce puts his phone away and turns to me.

“Hey, look who's up,” Bryce said quietly and scooted the chair closer.

“E-Ethan,” I ask, I bring my hand up instantly to my throat at the pain that laces through it as I speak.

“Don’t talk if it hurts,” he recommends, it makes sense. “Ethan just popped out for a bit. He should be back soon but until then you’re stuck with me.”

I’m aware of the fact I’m in a hospital but why I’m here is not information i’m privy to right now. Everything is fuzzy and doesn’t make much sense. “What happened?” I wince at the burn in my throat.

“What’s that last thing you remember?” he asked, an unusual down expression on my friends face.

“I-I d-don’t-”

I look around the room. Where am I? It’s a hospital, I know but I don’t understand why I’m here or what’s going on. God, why does everywhere hurt?

There’s an annoying beeping coming from just behind my bed. Talking of the bed; it feels like it’s made of nails.

“You’re in the hospital,” Bryce confirms. I nod; I’ve already figured that out but thankful for the confirmation.

“W-why?” God my throat hurts.

“You we’re in a car accident,” he explains.

The last thing I remember is arguing with Ethan then...nothing. “W-what?” I question. None of this makes sense to me. I don’t even know how time has passed.

Is it the same day?

Is it weeks or months later?

My throat hurts so I’m logically able to put that down to an intubation tube being down there, and I kind of remember Harper removing it. “W-wh-” I just don’t understand. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest; my breathing quickens. Fuck.

A loud beeping fills the room. Bruce leaps forward and comes to sit on the bed beside me. He takes my face in his hands to make me look at him.

I can’t breathe.

“It’s okay. Case, it’s alright. Everything is okay,” he tries to soothe but it’s not. It’s not okay. None of this is okay.

My eyes dart around the room. It feels like someone is sitting on my chest!I’m trying to get air into my lungs but it seems like the harder I try, the amount of air I’m actually getting decreases.

My heart is thudding against my rib cage.

I’m confused. I’m so confused.

I’m scared.

I’m crying now; I don’t understand what’s happening. I don’t understand how this happened.

I can’t breathe- that’s the one concrete thing I know right now.

I’m now only able to take in a few strangled breaths. The panic I’m feeling has already gotten its vicious claws in and I can’t shake it off.

I’m scared. I want Ethan.

I can feel Bryce’s hands on the side of my shoulders but his soothing touch isn’t doing anything to comfort me.

I'm vaguely aware of the door being yanked open and other people coming into the room in a flurry of colours and noises that I’m unable to make sense of.

When I look back up, Ethan is in Bryce’s place now. “Casey, look at me.” My panicked filled gaze flicks up to meet his. “It’s okay. You’re okay,”he tried to soothe. “Copy me, okay?”

I nod. I just want to be able to breathe properly again and to understand what’s going on. Ethan takes in a deep breath in through his nose and exhales out of his nose for a few seconds. I tried to follow suit but I can’t. It’s too hard.

Telling me to breathe isn’t actually helping me too!

Eventually I manage to get the hang of; following my boyfriend's breathing pattern. I feel myself start to calm down, the beeping stops, and the other people and Bryce disperse from the room, leaving Ethan and I on our own.

He stays sitting on the bed. I look up at my eyes welling up. “I don’t under-”

“It’s okay,” Ethan interrupts. “You’re okay; that’s all that matters.” Ethan explains everything to me. The accident, the two week long coma- all of it. I shouldn’t have left that night.

By the time our conversation ends, I’m exhausted and just want to sleep. It’s so much information to process. I’m still not sure that I understand all of it just yet. There’s so much that I don’t understand right now but all I know is that everything will be okay as long as I have Ethan by my side.

(Ethan’s POV)

One year later

Today is the day I never thought would become a reality at times, marrying the love of my life. Finally after the Ross and Rachel like relationship, after all the hardships we’ve faced together, we’re getting married and we’re gonna spend the rest of our lives together. The next chapter of our life together is being written today.

It hasn’t been easy, that’s for certain but all those things have just made our relationship stronger. It’s made us both realise that we can get through anything together.

The last year has been incredibly difficult for the pair of us- Casey especially. She had to recover, she had to do all the work but it all led up to where we are now.

(Casey’s POV)

Today is going to be a good day, I can feel it. I’m getting married to the sexiest doctor on the planet. There’s no one else that I’d rather spend the rest of my life with. There have been a plethora of things that have happened that made me think today would never happen but alas, It’s here and I couldn’t be happier.

I’m currently in my hotel room where Ethan and I are getting married. This place is special. My parents got married here back in the day. I’m facing the mirror concentrating as I put in the last earring.

I see my mom come behind me in the mirror. I know that she’s really happy for me and it’s good since Ethan is the only one of my boyfriend who my parents 100% approve of. She walks up to stand beside me and rests her hands on my shoulder.

“You look stunning, Casey,” She says softly, “Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” I nod, “I’m ready.”

“Well then, let’s go get you married to your prince charming, shall we?” she asks, unable to keep the huge off her face.

I spin around on my heel to face her, a huge grin spreading across my own face, “Yeah,” I breathe. This is going to be the start of something amazing.

(Ethan’s POV)

Casey is sleeping soundly beside me. I’ve been unable to drift off for some time so I decided to read through some of the new medical journal Casey had recently brought me for my birthday just a week ago.

My attention is drawn to her when she flinches. I turn to look down at her and shake it off when nothing else happens. A second later Casey starts to whimper. I place the journal down onto my bedside table, about to scoot over to her but she shoots up before I can, panting and visibly shaken.

The sad truth is that Casey does often wake up from nightmares most nights. She ended remembering a little bit more of the accident and that tended to plague her dreams. She insists that she’s fine but she’s not. I don’t think anyone can just move on from something so traumatic. It’s going to take time.

We sit for a little while, Casey wrapped tightly in my arms. “Do you want to see if you can fall back to sleep?” I know that Casey is often fairly hesitant to fall back asleep again. I understand, completely. The argument, getting the phone call from Harper, seeing her for the first time and then Casey going into cardiac arrest are things that I still have nightmares about..

She yawns again and nods. I let her go out of my hold and we lie down together. Casey snuggles into my side and rests her head on my chest. I can’t explain how grateful I am to still have her here with me. Last year was one neither of us are never going to forget but it makes me appreciate her all the more. I know that I’m never going to take her for granted again.

Casey’s POV)

Being wrapped in his arms is honestly something that I didn’t would happen again. I remember seeing that car speeding towards me and thinking of Ethan. I wish that the accident never happened but it’s brought us close together. We got married, we’re happy. Yeah, we squabble now again but that’s fairly normal in most relationships but we always figure it out before it goes too far. Before one of us storms out and has another near death experience.

Ethan’s strong heartbeat is always able to soothe my after a nightmare however the nightmare is still playing over and over in my head and I know that Ethan’s notices.

“It’s okay, Rookie. I’m here. For as long as you need me to be I’ll be here.”

#soheila-1996 writes #open heart #open heart fic #open heart fanfiction #open heart 2 #open heart 2 fic #open heart fanfic #choices open heart 2 fanfiction #choices fanfiction #choices open heart #Choices Ethan Ramsey #choices #ethan ramsey #dr ethan jonah ramsey #dr ethan ramsey x mc #dr ethan ramsey fanfic #choices ethan #dr casey valentine #ethan x mc

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bexterbex · 4 years

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A Soul to Mend His Own | Ch. 61

Warning, PLEASE CHECK TAGS IF YOU SEE SOMETHING YOU DON’T WANT TO READ THEN DON’T READ | Tag lists are closed | INBOX OPEN

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Will tag as I go along, Will update tags, Slow Burn, Influenced by Star Trek and other Sci-Fi themes, References to We Happy Few, Tons of References and quotes to George Orwells 1984 see if you can find them all, The First Order is the new Big Brother, but who is really surprised, Blatant Nazi Symbolism, Interrogation Themes, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Really just drawn out Slow Burn, Don’t repost without permission, Torture themes, Suggestive Themes, Execution themes, Disturbing Themes, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Verbal Abuse, Controlling Kylo Ren, Physical Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, Possessive Kylo Ren, A character shamelessly based on Zelda

A Kylo Ren x Modern! Reader in a soulmate au with canon divergence. —————————————SLOWBURN————————————–

He is already the Supreme leader, searching the universe to find you, his Empress. Your name on his wrist has been the only constant in his life, while you have doubts about his existence and his acceptance of you. He isn’t in the database and why did the name Kylo Ren cover Ben Solo?

MASTERLIST

Chapter 61: The Hold on Your Mind

TW: Slight Dubious Consent.

You, Kylo, and Hux went back to your chambers. The little piece of forever being left in that conference room. You entered and Kylo removed his helmet, giving you a kiss before he left to go take care of some other matter. Leaving you with Hux, Mitaka, and your new staff.

You all got situated upstairs in the large lounge space. Hux spoke to them for you, “As you all know these positions are highly coveted and are highly important to the First Order. You shall all need to be careful with who you discuss things with outside each other. Lady Ren’s safety comes first and foremost as decreed by the Supreme Leader. This shall be reflected in your behavior.”

You watched as he slowly looked each staff member in the eye, to prove his point. “If you have any concerns about your position ever, you can make them known to Captain Mitaka, Lady Ren, the Supreme Leader, or myself. I ask that you follow proper hierarchy chains at all times when applicable. You six will also be in close proximity to her ladies-in-waiting, it is up to Lady Ren to decide if they are to help you in your positions or not. But note that they may be privy to much of the information in this group, but there might also be information that may need to be kept from them.”

You watched as slowly every single staff member nodded in agreement with the general. And you watched him carefully analyze each reaction.

Your mind drifted off to Kylo. He was somewhere on the ship. After a few seconds of thinking about him, you could feel the tendrils start to stir and caress your mind. They were happy that he was on your mind, that you were thinking of him. You heard the general say your name, which snapped you out of your mini daydream.

“Lady Ren is there anything you would like to add?”

You looked at him, wondering how long you were not paying attention. “No, but if I think of anything, you will all be informed.”

The general stared at you for a moment before speaking to them again, “You all shall need to review FM 22-100 Military Leadership 1965 tonight before you report for duty tomorrow morning. Captain Mitaka will always be the first one on call for Lady Ren, but you all must be prepared too, at any hour.” They were all then dismissed except for Mitaka as he was to stay with you through your lesson.

“I shall have your press secretary write up a press release announcing your first patronage, it should be sent to you by the end of today. But for now, let us continue with your education. We have spoken about diplomacy, and I believe you have expressed interest to the Supreme Leader that you may want examples from your own people, versus ones from the Empire. Is this correct?”

You don’t remember ever discussing this with Kylo, but then you felt the tendrils shift, a sign that he probably found it in your mind without having to ask. Before the rational part of your mind could raise alarm to this, one of the tendrils smothered it.

“Yes, I apologize general, I just feel as if I would connect better to examples from my own peoples’ history versus people and history that is still too new to me.” You weren’t lying, galactic history still confused you, there was too much of it. Too many people are involved over too wide of an area for you to really make sense of it all.

“Yes, I have done some searching and have modified much of my initial lesson plans to accommodate this. For the rest of the evening, you shall be watching The King’s Speech while you don’t have any speech impediment it will serve you well for when you will need to address an entire assembly of people, not just a meeting room.”

You then spent the rest of your tutoring time watching the movie, you watched as Captain Mitaka occasionally asked you what pieces of technology were. Being that the film was set back right before World War II much of the technology on your planet that he had come into contact with had changed. You also explained some other differences to him while he made important notes.

Once the movie was over the general informed you that he would see you tomorrow during a luncheon meeting again, and the captain informed you that he would see you in the morning.

You all headed downstairs together as you bid them goodbye for the evening. You watched them leave and then headed to your dressing room where you called upon your ladies-in-waiting.

Both of them came to prepare you for dinner, Adlez insisting that you should change again as the Supreme Leader had already seen that dress this morning and that a change wouldn’t hurt anything. You relented as you could feel the tendrils caressing your brain at the mention of his name.

Once changed you sat in front of the vanity, watching yourself. This made the tendrils the happiest they had been all day. You could feel them dance around your skull, caressing and stroking as they moved around. You slowly allowed them to feel more of your mind and to see more of your memories. They carefully handled the happy ones while they caused the painful ones to disappear.

You got up to head to dinner, a doll’s smile painted on your face. A blissful sense of security caused by the tendrils hold on your mind. You waited for a few moments for Kylo; the tendrils getting more excited the closer he got to you.

When he entered your chambers and took off his helmet, you could feel them trying to leap out of your head. This caused you to involuntarily jerk forward. Kylo caught you in his arms, “Excited to see me Kitten?”

If you thought the tendrils were happy earlier nothing could compare to how they were acting now. Especially when his lips found yours. The tendrils caused your brain to go numb, which caused your legs to give out under you. Kylo held you close to him as this happened. His lips crossing over your cheek as he then whispered into your ear, “I am excited to see you too Kitten. Shall we go eat before we play?”

You nodded dumbly in response, words failing you as your mind was numb from his touch, both physically and whatever he was doing with his hold on your mind.

He then bridal carried you to the dining room. Only after trying to drag you with him for a second, while your legs failed you. Setting you down in your seat he gave you a long deep kiss before taking his seat.

Dinner went by with no discussion. Both of you content to stare longingly into each other’s eyes. He then stood and took your hand, your legs finally working again. You made your way to the bedroom, your mind still fully entranced by him.

He sat on the edge of the bed while he beckoned you to him. You numbly and happily obliged by straddling him. Your hands wound in his hair as you began to devour his lips in kisses. Feverishly kissing him as if he was your life force and you were a dying man, holding on to your last bit of strength. Consuming him like oxygen.

The tendrils numbing your brain; you had no idea where you ended and where he began. Everything blending together in some sort of euphoric haze. You felt his hands skimming up the side of your thighs pushing your dress up. His hands were then behind your back, unzipping it. Soon your dress was over your head and then somewhere on the floor.

His tendrils dance in your skull, keeping your mind occupied while his hands dance over your now bare flesh. He was fully clothed, but you were stripped down to your undergarments. In a much more intimate position than you had ever been in with him.

You felt his hands wander over the bare skin on your back and slowly caressing your bare stomach. His hands mapping out your skin, you sucked on his lower lip as he then fell back. You were over him as he laid back on the bed. You felt his hands come up and hold your face as they moved your hair to the side. Exposing your bra strap to him. As he slid that down your arm, and his other hand caressing your still clothed heat you felt alarms go off in your brain.

The rational part of your brain fighting back against the tendrils that threatened to take over, that threatened to pacify you, to make you numb. To make you obedient to all his wishes. You felt your brain kick into overdrive. The rational part started alerting the rest of your brain as to what was happening. You broke the kiss; you moved away from the hand that was pushing down your bra strap; you took hold of the hand that was caressing your crotch.

It took all of your willpower to choke out, “Get out of my head.”

His face was unfazed by your actions, his dark eyes analyzing your new reaction to all of this. “But Kitten we were just playing.”

Your stomach lurched with disgust, “We agreed to wait, this isn’t waiting.”

You heard him chuckle, “I wasn’t going to do anything Kitten. We were just playing.”

You released his hands and pushed yourself off of him, backing up off the bed. “Get out of my head.” You could feel the tendrils fighting the rational part of your brain, but she was winning this fight.

He sat up and held his hands up. Something swirled in his dark eyes, something you couldn’t place. “Alright, I admit I was having too much fun during our playtime. There is nothing to be afraid of, Kitten. I will never harm you. So I will do as you wish.”

You felt the tendrils surrender within your mind, shrinking and backing away from your brain. Seeming to disappear into the corners of nothingness. You looked at him for a moment before grabbing your discarded dress. “I am going to get ready for bed,” you announce.

You then walked into your dressing room and shut the door. You got yourself ready for bed, not wanting to face the questions from Adlez and Olivia-Rose. You spent a long moment staring at your reflection in your vanity, staring into your own eyes as a single tear fell. You stared for a moment longer before leaving the sanctuary of your dressing room and heading to bed.

You heard the shower run, and the door to the bathroom was open once more. You ignored it as you climbed into bed. Begging that sleep would take you soon. But alas Kylo was finished with his shower before that could happen. You ignored him as he walked into the room, the same as the night before with no towel around his waist, forgoing any sense of modesty.

He crawled into bed like that, crawling up to you and placing a kiss on your exposed shoulder. His hands beginning to wander over your clothed body, “I would like to go to sleep,” you said to him.

He paused for a few seconds before running his hand through your hair, “As you wish.”

You then felt blackness take over as you drifted off into sleep. You hoped tonight would be a night of pleasant peaceful dreams, but of course, it was not.

Your blackness swirled to meet a face you were not entirely familiar with, but one that seemed recognizable to you. As you had seen her in many different forms throughout your dreams since you met Kylo. The older woman who called his name. The woman you assumed to be his mother.

A/N: Feel free to message me with your theories, ideas, or anything you want really (you can even ask me unrelated questions to A Soul to Mend His Own). The inbox is always open. If you tag your ask that you want it answered privately I will respect that, otherwise all asks will be answered to the public. Many more chapters to go, we will at least hit 80 I believe.

#kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren imagine #kylo x reader #kylo x you #star wars #first order #a soul to mend his own #star wars imagine #Star wars soulmate au #sw first order imagine #star wars first order #first order propaganda

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completemalum · 4 years

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You're My Favorite Place

Or alternatively, Four Times Calum Almost Kissed Michael and One Time He Did.

Genre: Fluff, some angst

Rating: Everyone

A/N: This oneshot is basically a collection of mini stories that all kind of connect to each other. Title based off Favorite Place by All Time Low.

2006, Age 10

It was another Michael and Calum Weekend Sleepover, and Michael had woken up crying due to one of his night terrors. Calum was currently cuddling Michael with Michael's face buried into Calum's neck. It wasn't unusual for them to cuddle like this. They usually ended up forgoing their sleeping bags and sharing a bed together. Plus, they were best friends. They saw nothing wrong with sharing a bed. But for some reason, this felt...different to Calum. Calum was no strangers to Michael's night terrors and was always willing to help calm him down. But for some reason, this time he felt like he needed to protect Michael. Which was weird, as Calum was scrawnier and quieter than Michael and Michael was pretty much Calum's bodyguard. And with the way Michael's hand was bunching up Calum's shirt and his nose pressed against Calum's neck, he had a strong urge to kiss Michael. But he told himself no, boys can't kiss other boys. And boys especially can't kiss their best friends. Plus, he liked girls...right? At that moment he wasn't quite sure if he had ever had a crush on a girl. But he didn't want to spend all night contemplating if he liked girls or not. What mattered was that he was there, with Michael. He opted for a quick kiss on the top of Michael's head once he was sure Michael had fallen asleep and cuddled close to him before falling asleep himself.

2008, Age 12

Calum knew two things: 1. He had a huge crush on Michael. And 2. He was bisexual. He learned the term "bisexual" after his older sister, Mali, came out to him about her secret girlfriend. And honestly, he was very comfortable with that label and quite proud about figuring out his sexuality. But of course, Michael didn't know. He couldn't know. Calum was so scared that him telling Michael that he likes boys would scare Michael off because what if Michael somehow found out about Calum's crush on him and didn't want to be friends anymore?? Calum couldn't bear the thought of that. So he kept his thoughts to himself, occasionally sneaking glances at Michael and smiling at the way Michael stuck his tongue out in concentration whenever they played video games together.

Calum was yanked out of his thoughts when Michael announced "It's hot in here, can we go watch TV downstairs or something?"

Calum shrugged "We could go outside and play football."

"Noooo, playing football with you isn't fair, you always win!" Michael whined, flinging himself dramatically onto Calum's bed.

"Now you know how I feel playing racing games with you." Calum retorted with a grin

"Fiiiine." Michael groaned as he got off the bed. Calum grinned and followed Michael downstairs, grabbing the football by the door before stepping into the backyard. "Same goal spots as usual?" Michael asked

Calum nodded and put the football on the ground, gently kicking it with his foot. "Same goals." He grinned before taking off with the ball towards the goal.

"Hey! No fair!" Michael yelled, chasing after Calum. Calum laughed as Michael started catching up with him. But Michael, being clumsy as he was, tripped over his own foot, sending him and Calum tumbling. When they landed, Michael had Calum pinned to the ground. Michael grinned at Calum "Totally meant to do that."

The thought of leaning up and kissing Michael crossed Calum's mind, and he blushed before quickly pushing the thought out of his head. "Uh, let's go inside and grab a snack." Calum hoped Michael wouldn't notice that they only played football for like two minutes.

Luckily, he didn't notice, as he shrugged and said "Okay." Before climbing off Calum and heading inside. Calum groaned softly to himself before following Michael in. Having a secret crush on your best friend is hard.

2011, Age 15

The band 5 Seconds of Summer was officially together, and while they were just a small YouTube channel with a couple hundred subscribers, they were happy to be doing what they were doing. They were about to start band practice at Michael's house. Calum was the first person there as usual, sat in the basement where they rehearsed tuning his bass. Michael came downstairs to join Calum, nervously picking at his nails. Calum looked up and noticed Michael's anxious habit. "You only pick at your nails when you're nervous. Are you okay?" He asked gently.

Michael nodded as he joined Calum on the couch "It's just...I need to tell you something. But you can't tell anyone. Not even Luke and Ashton. I'm not ready to tell them yet." Calum nodded with concern on his face but gestured for Michael to continue. Michael took a deep breath. "I think I'm gay. I've known for a while now...I just finally came to terms with it recently and I'm still having a hard time wrapping my head around it. I just...really hope this doesn't change things between us. I don't want to lose my friend because I like boys." Calum felt his heart leap with joy. He had a chance. Maybe. Michael liked boys so it's a start at least.

He put his hand on Michael's arm "Mike...nothing could change between us. You're my best friend and it'd be dumb if I didn't want to be friends with you anymore because you like boys. I'm really happy for you, thank you for telling me." Calum saw relief wash over Michael's face and he gave Michael's arm a comforting squeeze. God, how bad he wanted to kiss Michael right then. He opened his mouth to give Michael his own confession but right then Luke and Ashton came barreling down the stairs, arguing over some new video game. Calum squeezed Michael's hand before getting off the couch and grabbing his bass. How he wished he had the courage to tell Michael how he felt.

2015, Age 19

Michael was hurt. Bad. A fire cannon had malfunctioned during one of their shows and hit Michael in the face, catching his hair on fire and burning the left side of his face. Calum had gotten burned too while trying to help Michael, but once they were at the hospital he had insisted he was fine, so they put some cream on his arm to soothe the burn and wrapped it up. Ashton was outside making phone calls and Luke went downstairs to the cafeteria to get food. Calum had told Luke that he wasn't hungry and wanted to stay with Michael. Him and Michael sat in comfortable silence for a while before Michael spoke up.

"Cal?" He asked. Calum looked up and his heart broke. Michael's lip was quivering and tears were gathering in his eyes. "What if I have a scar on my face because of this? What if people think I'm ugly?" His voice shook as tears fell from his eyes.

"Mikey..." Calum said softly, standing up to sit on the bed. He put his hand on Michael's cheek and wiped away a tear with his thumb "You could never be ugly. Not to me, at least." Michael smiled softly, leaning into Calum's touch.

"Thank you for being here with me. And holding my hand on our way here. You're the only person able to keep my grounded."

Calum smiled and intertwined his and Michael's fingers and kissed his hand "I'd do anything for you." He still hadn't confessed his feelings to Michael yet, but he had become bolder with his physical affection for Michael and he knew Michael wouldn't think anything of the hand kiss. Before either of them could say anything, Luke came back with food, causing them to part. Calum cast one more longing glance at Michael before helping Luke get the food out.

2018, Age 22

5SOS was in the process of finishing up their 3rd album, Youngblood. They only had a few songs left to record and were recording the song "Why Don't You Love Me" and Michael was singing his solo in the song. All four of them were in the studio that day, but Calum was watching Michael for most of it. But he could've sworn that Michael was staring at him for most of his solo. After Michael finished, their producer suggested they take a break to get lunch. They all started to file out of the room, but Calum gently grabbed Michael's arm to stop him. He shoved his hands in his pockets before saying "Who's the song about, Mike?"

Michael looked taken aback "I-I don't know what you mean..."

Calum scoffed "I know you better than that. Every song you write involves some aspect of your life. You dont just casually write a song like that. And I noticed you glancing over at us. So, who's the lucky guy?"

Michael dropped his head and said in a voice that Calum almost didn't hear "You."

Calum's heart stopped "What?"

Michael sighed and lifted his head "The song is about you. I've been in love with you since we were 16. I wrote this song a few years ago. I'd hoped getting my feelings out would help me get over you, but-"

Michael was interrupted by Calum lunging forward and pressing his lips to Michael's. Michael made a noise of surprise before kissing back. The kiss was desperate and filled with years of unspoken words. Calum's fingers were tangled in Michael's hair and Michael was desperately gripping Calum's shirt. Calum didn't want to pull away, but he finally did when he needed to breathe. He rested his forehead against Michael's as they both panted, trying to catch their breath. After a few minutes, Calum whispered "I've dreamt of kissing you every night for ten years." Michael smiled and rubbed Calum's sides before whispering "I love you, Hood."

#this was so long and ended so abruptly asdfghjkl #malum #malum is real #otp: promise? i promise #malum fluff #calum hood #michael clifford #5sos #5sos fluff #5 seconds of summer #favorite place #all time low

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