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moonflms · 3 years

Text

➷｡˚head-start! — nct/wayv hendery

PROLOGUE ༄ - story where you compete in the annual hackathon led by sandbox! entering the 13th batch of sandbox's 'start-up' program, you plan on following seo dalmi and her path to success... that's until you were given a head start; initiating your own journey.

—a spin off to 2020 -drama, "start-up" !

INSPIRATION ༄ - seo dalmi & start- up (k-drama)

PAIRING ༄ - smiley developer! hendery x determined developer! fem reader

GENREs ༄ - fluff, competition, spin-off, developer au, start-up, hackathon.

W. COUNT ༄ - around 1k+

NOTES ༄ - cussing is present. second oneshot here ! lowercased. expect grammar and typo errors. simple wording. those who hasn't watched start-up might get confused a bit so i apologize in advance for that,, please ignore errors as this was originally a hd x oc story.

do not repost. copyright belongs to @moonflms 2021. reblogs and likes are deeply appreciated! originally posted on my twitter (@suhhvsco). enjoy reading!

—start

"in ten minutes, the annual sandbox hackathon will commence! developers, please proceed to the auditorium."

a notice was blasted off through the speakers surrounding the registration. the venue was flooded with people— as expected. the annual 'start-up' program was back for its 13th year! the lobby was filled with staff, investors, and people with varying capabilities.

signing the last few forms, you left the register. you looked around the venue as it was overwhelming. the building was tall and huge. the interior displayed vibrant colors almost everywhere! it was also rowdy as all that could be heard was buzzing from everyone's chatters and the excitement that was clearly evident.

going with the plan you created before-hand, you accomplished the very first step. you were now standing in korea's very own silicon valley, sandbox!

separating yourself from the crowd, you found a small area where you could get yourself and your thoughts straight. you took a look at your id card; skimming through your portrait and details. the customized id was clipped to the company's signature red sling. you felt proud.

"kim y/n, independent participant." you read off the card.

you also felt pressured as you came to the program alone.

clearing your pesky thoughts, you started to wander around the area.

you dreamt on starting her own company, but the lack of experience was keeping you from achieving it. hearing that sandbox was opening the "start-up" program once again, gave you a tingling feeling. it was a great opportunity for you and your friends who had the same goal. you felt like you had a chance to win as you remember seo dalmi. one of korea's known ceo's —seo dalmi, started as an aspiring ceo who was a college drop-out.

not necessarily an inspiration, but you did look up to the successful ceo. dalmi starting her career rough proved that you still had a chance. at least for you, it was better to try than staying in a stuffy office listening to people's complaints.

you set yourself to win the competition and the competition solely. sure, you were willing to make some friends or what not, but let's say you're determined to get your ass out of that hell-like job.

you and your friends applied for the opportunity. however, you were the only one who passed the screening, up for the first round of elimination; the hackathon.

the hackathon simply determines the position you'll be working as. you were okay with being a group member, but why not aim for that ceo spot? the hackathon is where a company has less than 2 days to create a start-up. winning groups advances to the next rounds.

you continued to look around the surroundings, admiring the insides of sandbox's office. vibrant colors, wide area, and a huge digital clock that says 10:25.

wait– 10:25? you only had five minutes left before the hackathon commences!

"all start-up participants, staff, and mentors; in less than five minutes the broadcasts will begin. please gather inside the sandbox auditorium asap." another announcement was made."

a stampede started as fellow developers and aspirers started to run heading to the auditorium. the pushing became more intense as loud buzzing voices blocked the building's music. you ran along with them, to avoid being trampled on.

—

the doorway was now visible as you slowly saw yourself heading into the venue. the dim room was filled with colorful spotlights. cameras and staff were standing on the platforms by the sides and mentors are slowly taking their seats up the stage, having the view of this year's qualifiers. people were in awe as they saw start-up's biggest shareholders come up stage; mrs. seo dalmi and her husband— dosan, ms. injae, and even mr. han jipyeong. people's attentions were on those particular mentors, not even acknowledging the presence of the rest.

your wrist was aching as you went running and dragging a trolley full of your gadgets and essentials. the auditorium was quickly filling up and not much space was left. you weren't claustrophobic, but you disliked how people were unintentionally pushing one another as a result of excitement. you lost count of the number of times people stepped on you flats.

after a few shifting, you spotted an open space, nearly by the center, and was just a right distance from the huge display monitor. you quickly rushed to the area, which you did. you succeeded to take the spot, but you were now on the floor, on your ass.

out of your actions and adding the fact that you could be a bit clumsy, you accidentally bumped into someone. with the weight of your bag, it made the impact between your butt and the ground a bit painful.

you hissed at the sting until you saw a guy panicking in front of you. he held out his hand for you to take. "the fU— OH I AM SO SORRY" you took his hand, slowly standing up making him refrain from spazzing more.

"don't worry! i bumped into you, i apologize- " you dusted your jeans and looked at the guy.

he was quite cute, a 'hotshot' per sé. "are you really sure? i didn't mean to block your way, but you did kinda bumped into me" he chuckled as he stood beside the girl, still double-checking if you were absolutely fine. (or he could be secretly be checking you out– anyways;)

you assured the guy once again. "well, i guess we had the same intention" both were now occupying the space you spotted earlier, and it was alright and still spacious to move around without hitting anyone with your elbow. you looked at the guy beside you who kept an eye on your movements from time to time. "came here alone?" you asked.

he shook his head "i was with a few friends, i guess i flocked out because all the people" you felt a bit guilty as you knew you could've been the reason he lost them in this pit. your worry was visible from the outside, so he immediately re-assured the lady "don't worry, all things are forgiven! at least i'm not lonely, i met someone to keep me company." he smiled at you "i'm hendery! and you are?..." he spotted your name tag, "kim y/n... y/n-ssi, you have a pretty name by the way." you grinned as you shook his hand.

"ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the annual start-up competition! a competition wherein your dreams become a reality!" the crowd cheered.

"i am yoon seon hak, ceo of sandbox and SH venture capital. it is nice to meet you all!" sandbox's ceo greeted.

"i am glad to say that sandbox's 'start-up' project is opening it's doors once again for its 13th year. this would not be possible without the undying support of our investors before you and of course, the participation of 386 aspiring starters. we at sandbox are deeply grateful."

everyone clapped as the ceo continued her speech.

"now the first step of the competition will commence; the hackathon. through the hackathon's challenge, only 40 participants will be able to receive a ceo position. to their advantage, they will be able to pick four from the remaining participants creating their own company and start-up. in the end, investors will only select five teams to move into sandbox, moving on to the finals. in a minute, the mechanics of the hackathon will be sent to your accounts. "

multiple rings and dings went off, everyone rushing to open their mobiles.

"may the best man win. good luck." the ceo showed her infamous sweet smile.

the challenge started flashing through the monitor, gasps and sighs were filling the air. hendery beside you had his mouth open a bit, quickly typing as many answers as he could. you on the other hand, was quite prepared as you did some research. you sent answers after another, typing speedily. you were focused as everything around you started to blur, only you and the monitor.

some of the participants were already burned out, the pressure of the challenge giving them a mental block. some couldn't access their phones, and simply some couldn't send their answers right away thanks to their shitty data.

from up the stage, the view was overwhelming for the mentors as they reminisce about their past selves. exactly in their shoes a few years back.

hendery shrugged his shoulders as he started to feel a bit tense. you on the other hand, started to feel your thumb soring from the aggressive tapping of her phone screen.

ten minutes has past and the challenge was now over. a small break period started as the staff crew began their calculations.

you took a few seconds for your eyes to close. with eyes still closed, you heard a few 'hey!'s from your side. you slowly opened your eyes as you sighed off some relief. another step of her plan accomplished. you glanced at your noisy side to see hendery reunited with his set of friends. "well good for him." you thought.

you nervously continued to look up to the monitors, waiting for the results. your nails tapped the backside of your phone, creating soft noises. "don't sweat it, you've done well." you looked over to the voice to see hendery smiling. "thanks, you did as well, hendery." you returned. "oh yeah! thank you for keeping me company for a bit, it was nice knowing you y/n-ssi."

"those are my idiots for friends i came with," hendery stifled a laugh "you don't seem you have any colleagues, don't you?" hendery asked as you looked at him, shaking your head.

"i'm fine on my own, why do you ask?" you questioned.

"you seem lonely, but you know you have me now. and i'm also willing to make you my teammate once i get my ceo spot" hendery smoldered as you eyed him.

"i'd accept the offer, but i believe a team can only have one ceo, hendery." you gave back.

" i didn't expect to find a rival this quick, but we'll see i guess." hendery took out his hand once again for you to shake, which you immediately did.

your competitiveness was burning inside you. "i guess i'll be side-tracking a bit from my original goal, i'll be taking this as a head-start then"

once their hands broke away, the monitor started to flash numbers. "all selected ceos, please proceed to the stage to be acknowledged."

you quickly skimmed through the displayed ranks, finding your number. "106.. 022, holy shit— 127!" you quickly checked your card for your number; 127. you were on the list. you smiled as you celebrated your success on your own. you quickly looked to your sides as you look for hendery. once you did, you saw the male already approaching you.

"guessing from your look, congratulations!" hendery offered a hug which you gladly took without realizing. "but don't get too hopeful y/n-ssi, 117 is also there." hendery pointed out to his own number as well. "have fun beating wayv tech, ceo-nim" hendery smiled as he took your hand, planting a small peck. hendery left heading to the stage. heating up, you wiped your hand against your jeans. "i don't mind at all to be honest" you thought to yourself.

you made your way up the platform, seeing the rest of the start-up participants. a ceo shirt was being distributed around the stage. you looked around to find your rival, who was standing a few people behind, eyeing your moves with a smile.

you planned on following seo dalmi's steps to her success, but you didn't expect—even the least, that you could possibly find your own nam dosan in your life as well.

—end

➷｡min's notes: the competition and the plot in general are revolved under the k-drama start up, including the mentions of the drama's casts. in no way, this depicts the actual process of an actual hackathon. p.s, i simp for hendery. have a nice/day or night! <3

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anobscurename · 4 years

Text

ocean eyes – chris evans

previous part: PART XX — masterlist

concept: you run into chris again when you return to collect the rest of your things. part twenty-one of many.

pairing: chris evans x reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings: angst, kissing, profanity

author's note: i'm a hoe. also, this one is for @efferuse cause i miss her

"Are you sure you'll be alright?"

"Yes," you brushed her concern away with what you hoped was an easy smile. Judging by the furrow of her brow, it was decidedly not. "I'll be fine. I'm just picking up the rest of my stuff and giving him back the keys."

"And what if he's there?"

"I'll ignore him."

"I don't like it. It's been two weeks, you're doing much better now. Just let me go in and..." she gestured her hands in the motion of packing.

You laughed off the exaggerated movements. "I don't think Dodger or Chris will like a stranger in their house."

"He doesn't seem to have a problem if that stranger is playing tonsil hockey with him..." She grumbled. The look you shot her was lethal. "Too soon, sorry."

You'd been living on her couch for too long now, and it was taking a toll on you. There was only so much of her you could really take. Don't get you wrong, you adored your friend. But you two were simply too... different. But you had nowhere else to go, and she'd been a major help. With everything. Getting over Chris especially.

"I'm a grown woman," you sighed, already growing tired of the interaction. "I'm sure I can handle it."

———————

For the most part, you handled it quite well.

Without Chris and Dodger being there, it was almost easy. You could slip in and out, like a motherfucking ghost, and they'd never even know, aside from a cleared room and the set of keys on the table. The house felt haunted enough. Luck was on your side.

And then it wasn't.

You'd been looking for your journal when they had gotten back. Just the sound of the door had your heart in your throat, the scamper of Dodger's paws on the tile and wood, and sheer panic overcame you.

You had avoided seeing his face again easily enough. Chris was not a problematic or publicly wild person, so likelihood of him turning up in the tabloids were slim to none in just those two weeks. And your friend had made a big show of dumping all of the old DVDs she had that even hinted to Chris – surname was irrelevant, and she pulled Hemsworth, Pratt, and Pine from the shelf too – in a box and kicked it under her bed the moment you got there.

You didn't know how you would react. You hadn't laid eyes on even a picture of him, and you'd never felt like this before. About anyone. Your mood was unpredictable, and that scared you – you couldn't give yourself away now.

Your search for that stupid book with all your stupid fucking feelings was newly energized, and you were practically ripping open your drawers, flinging cabinet doors to the point their hinges whined.

You didn't care about the noise you were making. The Evans' would find you anyways, especially while you were on your way out. And if that happy bark at the door was any indication, Dodger had caught your scent long before your search began.

You wracked your brain as you heard Dodger paw at the door. Where was it? Where could it have been? It never left your room. Hardly ever, of that you were certain. Too much room for error.

But that night... The last night you'd been there. You had been writing in the lounge – passing time – waiting for Chris to get home so you could leave. Dodger – although able to handle himself on his own – more often than not preferred company.

A wave of nausea hit you. The world spun, white spots dancing in your vision. No. Nonononono.

Not willing to let yourself believe that inevitable catastrophe, you reinvigorated the search in your room. It had to be there, it couldn't–

"Looking for this?"

You had accidentally left it out in a very public area and fuck you were kicking yourself for it now.

He was leaning against your doorframe, non-chalant, legs crossed at the ankles, arms folded... And in one hand, a very distinct leather bound book that you had currently been searching for.

The ice in your veins turned to molten lava – anger – but you refused to look him in the face. You couldn't bring yourself to do it.

You didn't respond, your hands curling into fists, nails cutting crescent moons into your palms.

"You know, you maybe shouldn't leave it out like that," he said softly. "Open. Someone might stumble upon it, catch a few words before they realise what it is."

Your voice was strained, whispery. "Give it back."

"Look at me," he responded gently. He sounded so earnest. And you knew it was because he wanted that confirmation, the one your eyes would give him. The confirmation for what he had read, what you had actively tried to dissuade him of.

You reached for it, eyes still looking at his shoes, solely focused and not willing to cave.

He grinned in your peripheral vision and held it out of your reach. "You lied to me."

"Chris," you ground out. It was the first time you'd even let yourself say his name, and it felt strange on your tongue – like you were made to say it, but you had only just discovered that. It tasted foreign and familiar all at once. "I'm not fucking around. Give it back. Right fucking now."

"Come and get it."

He purposefully moved away from you to elude your snatching hands. You followed him, obviously.

But Chris was quick, continuing to evade you.

Always just a little out of reach, Chris easily slid between boxes, vaulting over the bed to keep the distance. You clambered after him, clumsy, sheets twisting around your legs.

He was laughing with the exhilaration, and still, he kept the book out of your desperate hands.

"Give it to me," you hissed, trying to grab at his shirt to keep him still.

He easily manoeuvred away, and you were grasping at air.

You ended up chasing him down – embarrassingly late – and damn near tackled him for ownership of the book. You landed on him, ripping the book out of his hand, triumphant.

And then you realised the position you were in.

The moment was charged with something electric, something intangible yet palpable. Your faces were close – too close for comfort, yet you didn't find yourself withdrawing – and your breaths mingled, and your chests are pressed together, able to feel every beat of his heart synchronising with your own. You were caught in a half straddle, low on his hips, your one leg slotted between his in a way that definitely didn't suggest innocence.

And he was laughing breathlessly and you somehow ended up laughing too. A genuine laugh, the first in weeks.

And you were both just laughing and breathless and then quietly – when both your laughter had subsided, but you're both wearing warm smiles – he asked you so softly: "Did you really mean that? What you wrote?"

You sat up, attempting to extricate your limbs from his, debating lying or coming clean. It was too late for either.

But he must've seen, in your eyes, the truth – because suddenly, he bolted upright to press his warm body against yours, trapping you in his arms and pulling you to him to meet his lips in a gentle and chaste kiss: the choice being yours on whether or not to deepen it.

A choice you made as you responded in kind, mouth moving urgently and feverishly against his.

He moaned, a choked noise in his throat, pleasantly surprised at your response, and his tongue swiped a quick, hot stripe against the seam of your lips, begging for entrance.

You hand slipped between the two of you, under the hem of his shirt. They raked down his musclebound torso, and your hand idly traced over the growing bulge in his jeans.

"Stop," he strangled out. He pulled himself away, keeping you at arms length, catching his breath.

"I-I'm sorry," you managed to stutter out. Embarrassment flushed your cheeks.

It wasn't your fault. And Chris let you know as much, with a lingering kiss to your forehead.

Chris knew that he had broken your trust, and he wanted to earn it back before anything happened. No matter how bad he wanted you.

The romantic in him wouldn't have it any other way. And there was something supremely unromantic about taking you on the floor of your bedroom, surrounded by the boxes you'd packed in the full intent of leaving him.

"I've been thinking of this for too long, if I'm going to do this, I'm going to do it right."

———————

tags:

all: @fangirlovestuff @rebthom89

ocean eyes: @agnesk @myakai13 @ilovetheeagles

chris evans: @thatoneperson5000

#chris evans #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans/you #dina writes #chris evans fluff #ocean eyes

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twinkleallnight · 4 years

Text

Marshmallow

(Part-12) Hope

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Liam x MC, Drake x Hana

For previous chapters: catch up here

Prompt 1: This fic is my submission for this week’s #WackyDrabbles. The prompt is appears in bold.

Prompt 2: This is a submission for choicesweeklychallenge. The prompt appears in bold.

Word count : 1916

Tags: @ao719 @aloneautumn @bebepac @charlotteg234 @choicesficwriterscreations @choiceskatie @cordonia-gothqueen @cordonianroyalty @sfb123 @drakewalker04 @gardeningourmet @gkittylove99 @glaimtruelovealways @kat-tia801 @hopefulmoonobject @hopelessromanticmonie @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @idontknowwhysblog @islandcrow @jovialyouthmusic @jaxsmutsuo @kingliam2019 @lovablegranny @mrswalkers-blog @mom2000aggie @no-one-u-know @ntoraplayschoices @princessleac1 @ritachacha @speedyoperarascalparty @shanzay44 @texaskitten30 @queenrileyrose @sanchita012 @theroyalheirshadowhunter @wackydrabbles @xpandabeardontcarex @yourmajesty09

I get behind the wheels while Max is yelling something from his SUV. My phone buzzes right at the same moment. I roll down the glass to listen to him, and receive the phone call with my other hand.

“Hello!” says the sharp voice over phone.

“Livy?”

“Happy birthday…” her sound is drowned against the shout out from Max, “Happy birthday grumpy guy!” Hana and Riley laugh out loudly.

I give him a glare and roll the glass up and focus back on the call.

“Umm… thank you.”

“I see you are busy with someone.” She says with a sarcastic tone. “Since when did you start partying? Seems you are a changed man.”

“Look who's talking!” I sneer back.

“What do you mean?”

“At least I don't keep secrets.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about. Anyways, I think I should leave you with your commoner friends to enjoy. Bye.”

And just like that she drops the call.

“What the hell!” I shout at my phone.

Why did she call? To wish me or to irritate me? Why does she spoil everything! Damn! I was so happy, for once, but she had to call up and mess it all. I rev up the engine and hit the road with a surge of anger. I drive down to the Applewood manor and decide to call it a day.

-----------

Morning comes with a fresh start. The court and nobles are all busy celebrating the Apple blossom festival with their king and queen while I keep myself occupied by the stables. I check the horses selected for next day’s event -the foxhunt, where a mountain trail is to be covered on horse’s back. I know as soon as they conclude the festival in orchards, the excited nobles will turn to stables to tend to their rides for tomorrow. I want to make myself scarce before that.

I am about to leave when Riley visits the stables with Bertrand. She is the first one to come, as she doesn’t have a horse of her own. Liam follows them.

After exchanging pleasantries, we get to business of choosing her ride.

“I love horse riding but I have no idea how to choose the horse.” Riley says perturbed.

Liam takes the opportunity before Bertrand can reply. “Why don’t you let me do it instead?”

“That will be great!” Riley claps excitedly.

They both start looking at the unclaimed horses, and Bertrand tags along. I observe the couple keenly. They are so relaxed in each other’s company. Liam forgets all his worries around her, and Riley is like a live wire in his presence, full of energy and enthusiasm. I love to see them together. I wish…!

They turn around and Riley jumps up. “Hey Walker, I am not just borrowing, I am buying a horse.!”

“Really?” I look at Bertrand wide eyed.

“I can’t believe you talked me into this.” Bertrand says in an annoyed tone, looking between Liam and Riley.

“ Congratulations!” I try to distract Bertrand.

I help Riley by checking Belle, the horse she selected. While Bertrand starts discussing official things with Liam, Riley is enraptured in narrating the events that she experienced at the festival. “You should have been there. We had such a good time. I was in Olivia’s team.”

I am busy inspecting Belle but I stiffen on mention of Livy’s name. I curse myself for the reaction. I need to get over the differences between us. I promise myself to act better next time.

Riley continues, “ We made an apple pie and you won’t believe our team won. I think our winning streak was Hana’s specially crafted roses on the crust. I tell you, that girl has so much talent!” I can see Riley’s eyes trying to find some reaction from me but I simply nod in agreement.

I pat Belle and give my approval to Riley.. “Here, all good to go!” They wrap up the deal, and we all walk out.

There are other nobles who pay visit. The stable boys help them out. There is nothing major, where my services are required. So, I take a stroll around the lush gardens of the manor. I have my plans to sit near the lake, my favourite hideout since childhood. But when I walk down to the edge of the gardens, my eyes fall on the figure who has seized my special place already.

She is lost in her thoughts, her eyes staring far away into the horizon, where the sky is pink and the golden ball of sun is about to drown itself into the unknown lands. The ebbs in the water are shining with the ochre reflections. Her calm form is adding into the serenity of the landscape. I stand there absorbing the beauty of nature for some time before I walk towards her, as much discreetly as I can.

“Hana!” I call out softly. I don’t want to disturb the tranquillity surrounding her.

She turns to look at me. Our eyes meet and she beams, “Marshmallow!” She stifles a laugh. Her teasing brings a smile on my face.

I rub the back of my neck, beaming at her. She moves making space next to her and pats her hand guiding me to sit beside her. We both sit there quietly, listening to each other’s breath, till she leaves a sigh, and shakes her head, as if disagreeing with her own thoughts.

“What is it Hana?” I ask with concern.

“I don’t know what to do. Since my childhood, I have been trained to be part of the court. Each class, each lesson was meant to place me at a higher pedestal in front of the nobles. This continuous struggle to achieve something, fulfilling their expectations” she purses her lips, “it’s tiring. I want to live a carefree life, where I live for myself. Where it is okay to make mistakes. Where I can build up a small house and fill it up with my desires to make it a home.”

“That’s a beautiful wish. What is it that’s stopping you?”

“My parents want to see me married to some noble.” She lowers her eyelashes avoiding eye contact with me. “I know they anticipate of something I can’t live up to.”

“It’s your life Hana, your parents should not be the ones making decisions for you.”

She gets up, frustrated, and takes few steps towards the waters. “That’s the whole problem.” She says. “The culture from where I come is very different. Its closed environment with families dominated by parents. It’s hard for me to explain that even if they pressurize me to do things, I still love them. I don’t want to hurt them. I want them to understand my choices.”

I walk up to her, and clasp her shoulders to turn her to me. Her usually peaceful eyes seem to be deep into some storm, piercing into mine, searching for the shores. Yet, it doesn’t falter my mind, instead it seems to be encouraging me to make stronger resolutions. “Take baby steps. Break your desires into tiny goals and try achieving one at a time.”

Her mind is still out on a wild chase as she rests her soft little palms on me. Her touch acts like a pacifier for my pacing heart. Her lips quiver to pour out the questions her eyes have stored. “How will I answer them? What will I say if they ask?”

“We will cross the bridge when we reach there.” I reply. I see the storm in her eyes calming down as the soothing honey colour dances in them again. She closes the distance between us. Her head rests on my chest and our arms embrace each other.

My eyes take in the view at the horizon. The pink of the sky has changed to purple. The waters are dark and the twilight sparkles over the lake. The storm that left her eyes suddenly is hitting the waves of my mind. 'We will cross the bridge… I said to her. Why did I promise myself into it? What am I doing? I am letting myself fall into valley of flowers, except that these flowers are going to be roses, roses with thorns. I don’t know how many wounds they will create before the eternal bliss.

“Thank you for being there for me.” Her mellow tone creates another smooth wave, overpowering my self-destructive thoughts. ‘We WILL cross the bridge…' a voice inside me resonates.

We start walking back to the manor. “Ready for tomorrow’s hunt?” I ask her.

“Yes. It’s going to be fun. I can practice my dressage.”

“You have a training in horse-riding?” I stop in my tracks and turn to her, wide eyed.

“Yes. Why are you so shocked?” She says in a casual manner.

“You never cease to amaze me.” I shake my head and start walking again. “It’s definitely going to be fun tomorrow.”

----------------

We start early morning with the trail. There is a long line of nobles trotting on their horses across the countryside. Liam is up ahead with the king, while I am at the tail end of the group with Max. We are talking about the turn of events since our new york trip just before the social season.

“What made you take that instant decision of sponsoring Riley for the social season?” I ask Max.

“Have you ever seen Liam so happy? Have you observed the way he looks at her?”

“Yeah, I was thinking the same the other day.”

“It was this look, that made me take the decision.” He confirms as our eyes gaze at Riley riding beside Hana at a distance ahead of us.

I have another question in my mind, and ask,“What is wrong with Bertrand though?” I remember his annoyance at the stable a day ago. “He is so serious nowadays.”

“House Beaumont is juggling a bit with some financial matters and since father left, Bertrand has taken it up as his sole responsibility to keep up the name.” Max's expressions brighten up, “Don’t worry. It’s nothing much. Lord Maxwell is here for the rescue.” He strikes a knight pose riding his horse.

We laugh it out. Max makes sure to keep everything cool and under control, always. A quality, I admire.

------------

“You are not the one to lose. What’s the secret?”

We have covered mountain trail, and reached the tiny village. Hana did not fail to impress with her horseback skills. But when the king announced the horseback race at the last leg for the suitors, Hana finished second.

Throughout the trail she has been either with Riley or Penelope or Kiara, and now finally I get a chance to talk to her. That is when I ask her.

“You noticed.” She smiles. “I would be sitting with the prince for the dinner had I won.”

“So?”

“So, who would have given our poor little marshmallow a company?” she pouts her lips.

I know I am grinning, ear to ear, with that comment. “Thank you Lady Hana for giving me the honour!”

We sit down for the feast. My friend’s all around me. Riley and Liam making me believe that there will be that one person in your life who will make a difference. Max, bringing the best out of worst and Hana, my new person, making me realise that not all is lost when there is still one thing that keeps us going – hope.

#pixelberry #playchoices #the royal romance #drake walker #liam x riley #trr #trr fandom #twinkleallnight #hana lee #drake x hana

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nurseofren · 4 years

Text

Keeping Your Promise - Chapter 24

Read on AO3

Read chapter twenty-three

Title: Prove it

Words: 6800

Warnings: Talks of pregnancy, mentions of vomit

Summary: A friend. A foe?

ST Rambles: I look pretty good for a dead bitch.

Okay. In all seriousness. In the five weeks that I have not updated, it has been chaos. School is absolutely kicking my ass this semester and I am not afraid to say it. Maternal-Newborn is a hell I would not wish on my worst enemy. With this said, I know any further updates will be sporadic, BUT - and I say this to snuff out any doubt on the matter - I will never, EVER, abandon this story. However it ends, rest assured that it will, in fact, do just that.

I thank you all for your patience and encouragement. This story is something I care deeply about and it just floors me that others do as well. I love interacting with you all, either on here or tumblr or TikTok (if you've made one and I haven't seen it, please tag me! My fyp does not work in my favor lol).

Be kind. Don't forget to be a person. All you can do is try your best.

[MASTERLIST] | BANNER/@elmidol

Good afternoon,

I can only hope this correspondence finds you safe and well.

The Board of Physicians sympathizes during this time of displacement and potential grieving. There are countless variables to be considered during uncertain times like these, but those of your safety and well-being are of the utmost importance. In an effort to convey the depth of our understanding, a unanimous vote has approved the decision to extend the dates of the trial by seven days. Upon receiving this official communication, you should plan to arrive on Canto Bight a minimum of two days prior to the morning of the initial hearing. An updated outline has been attached at the end of this e-mail for reference and sent to all pertinent parties.

Per the initial correspondence, Commander Ren is to receive a new provider prior to the trial’s start date. This objective has been met with the solemn barrier of the diminished population of approved nurses and physicians which resulted from the recent tragedy of Starkiller Base. There have been additional unforeseen circumstances also working to lengthen and altogether halt this approval process. Rest assured that we are doing everything in our power to ensure the trial proceedings occur in an organized and professional manner.

The emergent provider shortage, along with the unknown – and likely diminished – amount of surveillance retained from Starkiller Base prior to its destruction, has laid the foundation for the discussion of potential and probable employment during your time on Canto Bight. The discussions surrounding this issue are in their infancies. Should it be that you are to assume a care position during your trial, you will receive a further updated and in-depth itinerary. This would include the dates, times, and location you would be expected to work; this information would be accompanied by any specific limitations regarding your scope of practice while on trial.

Though you are encouraged to reach out to discuss any questions or concerns you may have pertaining to these new developments, the current agenda is to be followed with strict compliance. Should there be any changes, as stated previously, I will communicate these to you in a timely and conscious manner.

Respectfully,

Karmen Zag, Esq.,

Head of Communications,

The Board of Physicians

“Yeah, well, you can go fuck yourself Karmen Zag. Stupid ass name anyway.”

Not that anyone could hear you, nor that anyone would care, you could not help the petty jab. Karmen Zag, the faceless mouthpiece of the institution actively seeking your death, had little to do with anything. Karmen Zag was not the one who had carved initials into your body; that person was elusive to you now. Karmen Zag was not the one who kept you from sleep; that person was dead, killed by the trembling hands of the very survivor they’d created. Karmen Zag was not the one you were currently hiding from; that person, achingly kind and too ignorant to know different, still came to pick you up from shift every night.

Cramped in the corner of a supply room, you sat with your knees tucked to your chest and your datapad resting on your thighs, eyeing the vent at the bottom of the door to spy Mason’s tapping foot. In the seven days since waking up in the medbay, six days since returning to work to help with the increased patient population – or, at least that’s what you were telling yourself – you had found yourself with a desperate need to distance yourself from Mason. He was unaware of all that was haunting you, nescient to the fact he was at the epicenter of the majority of it. To see him was to remember the choice you’d made, to hate yourself for regretting it, to be morally ripped in half by the unwavering war in the back of your mind.

The first three days he would always sneak up on you, flurries of white lies leaving while you fumbled away from him and into the nearest room. I’m on call tonight was your favorite. No, you weren’t, though you had been staying in the on-call rooms to hide the fact that you no longer held a residence on this ship. No matter if you had not received official word on your employment status, you felt an unease when thinking of returning to Kylo Ren’s quarters. It felt too broken, like you’d be a stranger somewhere you’d once considered a home.

Eventually, Mason being an inherent creature of habit, you’d picked up on his timing. On the fourth day you’d decided to stake him out, finding he would spend exactly ten minutes waiting, send a message to your commlink, spend another five toying with his own as he waited for a response, eventually asking whoever was nearest to tell you to call him. You never did. It was despicable, watching his hope falter as the days passed and you were never there to leave with him; wretched, but that did not make it any less necessary.

So long as you were away from Mason, you couldn’t hurt him. If you could create a rift between the two of you so great as to discourage any further interaction, you could save him from all the suffering that came along with being associated with you. On the other hand, you couldn’t deny the comfort you felt in deferring any conversation with him. Avoidance may not be a healthy coping mechanism, but all the ones you’d learned of in school were useless to your set of circumstances; there was no talking this through, no way to speak of Snoke or Kylo or Robbie without getting someone else hurt. You were trapped in your own, sole company; whoever you had become recently, you were barely tolerant of them, let alone fond. It was growing increasingly difficult to recognize your own reflection. At some point you figured you might stop looking altogether.

Zag’s update had been present in your inbox ever since returning to work; with each read through – which, now, you’d have read a hundred times – you felt time pass by. Each night you spent time tucked away here, the cold tile permeating the scrub pants you now wore; the uniform you’d had on when you arrived back on the Finalizer had been too tattered to reuse. Not that you wanted to wear it; in those tattered, bloodied threads lay the obvious truth of how entirely you had failed at the only assignment you had ever been trusted with.

Trusted. The thought made you shiver. Yes. Trusted. Past tense. In every sense it could be. Thus, folded into yourself, away from prying eyes or well-meaning friends, you scrolled aimlessly up and down the message. Though its existence annoyed you, knowing full well that there was no empathy or genuine concern behind the decision to delay the trial, it also brought you ease to know this portion of your life was almost over. Again you were embracing the possibility of your death, only this time rooted in hatred for yourself, not Kylo Ren.

“Alright, well, can you tell her-,”

“Tell her to call you. Got it. Do every night.” One of your coworkers had grown exasperated with Mason – or was it with you? Either way, peeking through the vent slats, you spied Mason’s legs drag out of view. It made your heart fall, feeling more disgusted with yourself each day; it was this confusing combination of feeling a pull to run after him, to apologize to him with every breath you had left, only for that initial urgency to be swallowed by the knowledge that the action would be futile.

With tired eyes, not having gotten more than two hours of unbroken sleep since the sixteen you’d woken from, you looked to your left wrist. It was a routine gesture, pointless in the fact you had not worn the watch since finding it on your bedside table. Much like your uniform, only agonizingly amplified, the sight of the gadget inspired a hollowness in your chest. It remained in a pillowcase, hidden atop the bed you’d claimed. Each night you toyed with it, thumbed at the lifeless screen and wondered if it would ever offer another flicker; each night you caught the hazy reflection of two unfamiliar eyes, finding only the remnants of shattered promises staring back at you.

A sigh crept into your lungs when you stood, arms stretching and hands smoothing back your hair before going to activate the door. It hissed open without your indication; before you could question how, two hands pushed you out of the way and sent you flying face first into the storage shelves. Nose first, actually; the collision rang through your ears, pain throbbing in prominence as you stumbled for stability, arms widespread and eyes pinched shut.

“Oh! You have to be kidding!” Copper crept down your upper lip, cascading over your sharp tongue, foggy eyes opening to blood-stained fingers. “Watch where you’re going, jeez!”

Away from you sounded the door as it shut, but that wasn’t the sound that alarmed you. Across the room, near the sink – at least you hoped it was near the sink – came the horrendous retching that could only indicate vomit. The longer you listened, though, all the while blindly searching for a package of gauze, you found it wasn’t vomit, but an attempt towards it; echoes of dry heaves wracked the room, vomit absent even as the stranger continued in their effort toward expulsion.

A spill of winces left you, a grimace following suit when you tipped your head back, blood draining down your throat. You found a box of gauze squares and tore it open, peeling away a layer and rolling it into a cone before pushing it into one nostril. Vessels pounded against the material, injury soaking into it as you caught your breath.

“I’m so sorry,” a familiar voice said, groggy and breathless. “The refresher was occupied, and the occupancy indicator wasn’t on.” She took another breath, gasping back spit. “I figured the sink in here would do.”

Another person you’d been avoiding. Talia. Sick. As she would be, of course. It was something you’d fought thoughts on; it was too confusing, too unnerving to put the pieces you’d been offered together. Hux had left her room, had been so distraught. Talia had seized and ended up in the medbay. Armitage. Stars, how that word haunted you in the way it left her paling lips. She’d been so disoriented, so scared. Glassy eyes and green pallor. And the person she’d asked for was Armitage.

With these thoughts, dizzying as they had become, came the image of the very thing that tied them all together: that square-cut, printed, glossy ultrasound picture. Between nightmares of Robbie and desperately trying to find any amount of sleep, you saw it clear in your head, remembered how you’d lost your ability to stand when you first considered the reality of it. It all made sense clinically; the symptoms, the tangible evidence showing a yolk sac, the patient identifiers framing the monochrome image.

But, when you remembered running into Hux, remembered the ghost in his eyes and felt the rather unsettling demeanor – one not marked with errant hatred – he’d met you with, it all started to blur. Jumble. Your mind rejecting the thought that Talia and Hux-

Talia mewled, your eyes opening to find white knuckles outfitting a vise grip over the sink’s metal edge. The fluorescent lights lining the ceiling made it all too easy to see how sick she really was. Tears glinted down her cheeks, her hair dull in its tousled bun, a string of spit straying from her bottom lip; there was a suggestion of green just below the surface of her skin, exhaustion evident in the lavender drapes below her eyes.

A shaky breath left her before she rested against the sink, elbows bent and fingers rolling over her temples. For a moment there was a deafening silence, one that strangled you and emphasized the throbbing in your nose when you stopped breathing. It dissipated when Talia groaned, her head drooping and stance shifting.

“At least shift is done, right?” She sounded like she was talking to anyone. She didn’t know it was you. She didn’t know you knew.

Swallowing, dropping your hand from your face, you tried to think of anything to say. But nothing would come. And, considering how little time you had left to know her – execution or not – you saw no point in frivolous small talk.

“How far along are you?” It was a low rasp; frail in its existence yet bludgeoning the quiet that had preceded it.

She didn’t look up, but you knew she recognized your voice; her every muscle stalled, hair even stilling as your words sank into her. It was the first thing you’d said to her since she’d seized. In her silent shock it dawned on you that it had not been long since you’d been in a situation similar to this; the two of you, a pitting silence, a mess – obvious and blaring – surrounding you.

Only this mess was not something that could be cleaned. This mess existed outside all you had once thought to consider. Though this room was less gruesome in appearance, it held that same suffocated dread, carried with it the reminder that everything could change without a moment’s notice. Watching the color return to her cheeks, absentmindedly brushing your fingertips across the raised marks atop your thigh, it hit you how true that fact was.

A small sound – a swallow – filled the room, a sigh to accompany it. “Six weeks. I think, at least. Maybe more.” She stood then, crossing her arms and leaning against the sink. A wall stood between you and her, invisible yet so entirely present. “No one knows.” Her jaw fluttered at its hinge. The wall was for her; a façade, a crutch. She was scared.

The door lit cool shivers down your back, hands digging into your pockets, a weak attempt at a smile pulling at your face. “Congratulations,” you offered first, forgetting the circumstances before seeing her eyes fall to the floor. “Or not, I guess.”

She kept her eyes down. “I’m not showing, and I’ve been good about sneaking away to throw up, so…”

“Last week,” you said, her stare coming back to you, “after Starkiller. I fainted after arriving back here, and after I woke up,” I washed the Commander of the First Order’s hair and cried to his comatose body about how my life is falling apart, “I just had to know you were okay, so I visited you.”

“I don’t remember seeing you. I actually… How did you even know I had been admitted to the medbay?”

“You were asleep. I didn’t want to wake you.” You chewed your cheek, recounting any of those 48 hours made your pulse jump. “You weren’t well off when I found you, before they took you to the medbay, so I wouldn’t expect you to remember me being there.”

Her brow dipped for half a second, a crack creeping into that wall. “I didn’t know you found me. It’s difficult for me to even recall most of that day.” Her shoulders dropped, stature less rigid now. “Thank you, though.”

You nodded, not entirely sure why she felt it necessary to thank you. “Yeah. So, you were sleeping and I saw the tests ordered on your board. And then I found your ultrasound on the floor.”

Her eyes were so distant, pupils housing a familiar ghost. “It must have fallen when I was sleeping.” Her lips parted with the whisper, egregious loneliness overwhelming the thought.

It felt like the floor would fall out at any second, the interaction so fragile. Watching her with intent, measuring her reactions, you charged ahead into territory you’d been afraid to enter for so long.

“Talia,” you started, buying more time to think on your phrasing. Her focus startled back from wherever her mind had taken her. “I mean, maybe this is ridiculous, and maybe I’m so far off base in even suggesting it…”

Her arms dropped when a hand reached to tuck a collection of stray hair behind her ear, nose sniffing, teeth pulling at her bottom lip. She took her eyes from yours, breath picking up. That wall she stood behind was wearing.

You couldn’t stand beating around the bush any longer, sick of theorizing about it all. It fled out, no breath to separate any of it. “I’ll just say it: Hux was leaving your room when I came around. And he was being weird. So weird. I mean, he was being… would I say nice? Maybe just, less awful? He complimented me. And it was so weird, but I thought I would give him the benefit of the doubt because, you know, he’d just lost a lot of men. But then it was you in the room and I.. he was so distraught? That is barely the right word, but I mean? He just wasn’t General Hux. And then I found the ultrasound and remembered how you’d asked for ‘Armitage’ earlier when I’d found you, and-,”

A weep signaled the destruction of the wall she’d thrown up, hands clawing into her eyes and lungs heaving full of ragged, desperate air. “Oh, please tell me you didn’t tell him! He can’t- I don’t!” Sobs rolled off of her between each exclamation. “I haven’t told him. I don’t know how. I- he’s so evil! I can’t believe I ever slept with him!”

Seeing her come apart, feeling the guilt she did in every word she cried, you could only think to take her into your arms. In your hold you felt her shaking and the pain roll off of her in thick, grating waves. It was familiar, like she, too, had been existing alone; you had not noticed, so buried in your own avoidance that you had not thought to consider hers.

“I’m so sorry! I’m so- I’m so sorry! It makes me so mad that- ugh!”

“Hey, stop. Slow down,” you soothed, hugging her tighter. “You have nothing to apologize to me for. You’ve done nothing wrong, okay?”

“No, I have! I slept with my Master! And got pregnant! And he’s such a fucking jerk! He’s the whole reason you’re losing your career, you know? And I had sex with him! And I feel- felt real things for him!” A breath stuttered into her lungs. “I never meant for it to go any further than that first night, and then… fuck.”

It burned down to your marrow that you had the power to comfort her, knew everything she was feeling even if it wasn’t hatred that left you crying at night. She would be embraced in knowing you had also slept with your Master; it would minimize the guilt she now felt. To tell her you had fallen for Kylo Ren could help her know that she wasn’t alone.

Instead, feeling her tears accumulate on your sleeve, struggling to keep in your own, you kept quiet. She would not learn how you had burned so bright for your commander. It was selfish, but it was necessary. Self-preservation. She would be testifying against you, taking the stand right after Hux. Her not knowing would do no harm; it would keep her from having to consider or commit perjury. Talia now joined Mason, another soul to protect, another person you would lie to.

Several minutes passed before she stopped trembling, another few before the tears stopped staining your uniform. Humanity existed in these moments, and though you would hide how you knew the advice you would offer her, you knew she needed to hear it. A part of you did, too.

Moving your arms from her back and grasping both her shoulders, you locked eyes with her and forced her to see that you somehow understood her pain. “There is nothing to feel guilty about. Not that you slept with him, or that you got pregnant. Not that you felt things for him or that you still do.” Her eyes shut at that, a fresh streamlet dragging into her mouth. “You can still love him even if he has done awful things.”

“Gosh, how can you say that? He’s ruined your life,” she shuddered, grimacing before looking back up to you.

“I made the choice to take that blood. I had a choice,” your throat tightened, not knowing if you were reciting the words from their origin or from your dream, “I made the one I thought was the best at the time. Hux may be an ass in the way he has gone about the issue, but it’s not like he wouldn’t have reported me.”

She sobbed your name, confusion and hurt wrought in her features. “That blood saved that patient. You saved that patient. We both know that. You saved him and you’re suffering for it and I’m the one who wrote the incident report. He made me write it. Such a fucking bastard.”

Just like that, whatever weird internal truce you’d made with Hux disappeared. “Yeah, that is a dick thing to do, I will say that.”

She wiped at her cheeks, shaking her head. “I should have lied on that report.”

“And gotten both of us in trouble? That isn’t a solution.”

“If I had, you would be less alone in this. And I wouldn’t have to testify against you.” Talia’s eyes shot to the ceiling and back, frustration hot on her breath. “It’s just so-,”

“Unfair. I know. I have… I’ve beaten myself up about it too much not to know that.” This conversation was too similar to those you’ve held inwardly. It was becoming repetitive to keep sulking over something you could not change. But Talia, if she wanted, could change her situation. “We went through the same program, got the same schooling, I know you know your options here.”

She chewed her cheek, shaking her head. A long drag of breath found its way into her chest, releasing when your hands fell to your sides. “This is where you find out how stupid I am.”

It pulled at your heart to hear how hard she was being on herself. “You aren’t stupid. And if you are? Could’ve fooled me with your class rank and just general existence.”

A laugh, weak but not acrid. “Academics were easy. Career is easy. This life stuff? Messy. Complicated. I feel like no matter what I do, it will blow up in my face.” That earlier distance glazed over her stare, a glimmer of yearning present in the way her eyebrows pinched. “And what I want…think I want? I’m not sure it’s even possible.”

“What do you want?”

Talia shut her eyes, capitulation and indignance set in her features, jaw flexed. “I haven’t spoken to him since that night,” she whispered. “He watched me fill out that report. I was sobbing in front of him and he said nothing.” A hand smoothed over her hair and clutched into her bun, lips quivering for a moment. “I didn’t even know until last week. I woke up for a few minutes and they started talking about all that had happened – fainting and seizures and blood tests – and they immediately wheeled me down to have an ultrasound to confirm the hCG results and urinalysis.”

She paused, growing in distance the more she shared. “Was it just your electrolytes that caused the seizure?”

“Yeah. Yes.” She blinked back to the present. “Belkar actually said I was severely dehydrated and that my metabolic panel reflected that.” Talia was dancing between two timeframes; gentleness framed her face when revisiting that of the past. Something so delicate in her stare; adoration cusping on hope. “I always told myself I would never have children. It scared me seeing how sick they could become when we had our unit on pediatrics. I’d never wanted to feel so helpless as the parents I saw during clinical.”

It almost winded you to watch a single tear slip down her cheek, allowing her silence during her pause before she looked up at you, desperation drowning her eyes. She couldn’t find – or, maybe, did not want to believe – the words that overwhelmed her. “What changed?” You knew, but she needed to hear it for herself.

Her lips had become puffy, teeth pulling at the bottom one. She reached into the front pocket of her scrub dress, pulling from it that square print, only now with rolled, worn corners. “I know it’s early and there are so many things that can go wrong and I know I had been drinking before I knew, but…” A swallow bobbed her throat, a fond smile forming when she toyed with the scan. “When they handed this to me? Something just, I don’t know, came into view.”

A surge of immense pain coiled into you. In her reverie you saw yourself, realized how fortunate her situation was; she had something she wanted and even though it was complicated, she had a choice in the matter.

Again, her mind had wandered, distraction framing her tone; her brows pinched together for a second, a question sparking from her memories. “Have you ever wanted something so much, and maybe you didn’t fully understand it, but you just knew? For whatever reason, this was the thing you would do everything in your power to make possible? To have what you want, no matter how daunting or nonsensical it seemed?”

“Yeah,” you choked out, coughing against the new strain on your throat, “I think so.” Talia had that ability, though, and it cracked against your skull how helpless you were to go after what you wanted.

“You said that I could still love him if he’s done awful things,” she quoted, her attention returning to you. “I don’t love him. I don’t think I really know him that well. But…” She shook her head, shoulders shrugging and a puff of breath leaving her nose. “I miss him. It’s so dumb, but the bastard is nice to be around when he isn’t buried in politics. When he’s just a person. When he isn’t the General. When he’s just—” another smile, similar to her earlier one “—Armitage.”

“That has to be the strangest part of this whole thing.” A small laugh bubbled past your lips. It had been so long since the last one. “Armitage.”

“It was very odd at first. But I’m not going to cry out General, oh please General! when I’m cumming, so I got over it.”

Dumbfounded, all you could do was gawk at her candor. It warmed you, though, feeling like that first night you’d hung out with her. A good memory. Her cheeks pinked in your silence and the sight pulled you straight into a ruckus of laughter, tears – born in pain, falling from humor – and lightheartedness. It was short lived, but Talia joined in your fit; abashed giggles leaving her smile-tight face.

“I mean, I feel like it would be weirder if you were sleeping with Commander Ren.” Talia jabbed at your shoulder. “Calling him… Kylo? That just feels downright wrong.”

Instantaneously, your high fizzling into nothing before her, you found yourself right where you were when you’d said your first goodbye. Ky. It wilted your heart, shrouded whatever glimpse of happiness you’d just caught. Talia was too lost in the joke to notice you’d backed away from her, face turned so she couldn’t see the suffering rise to the surface.

“Ha, yeah. Wrong. So, so wrong.” You cleared your throat, brushing past the weak attempt at nonchalance, ready to be off this subject. “So you miss him? You miss… Armitage? Yeah, no. I’m gonna stick to Hux, if that’s alright?”

A final laugh lit from her chest, Talia waving you off. “That’s fine, of course. And yeah. I miss him.” Her brow furrowed. “Do you think it could work? Me and him, and—” she gestured down to her abdomen, placing the scan back in her pocket “—this?”

This was none of your business, and you doubted anything you could say would help her, but there was genuine curiosity in her voice. There was respect in how she wanted your insight into something so intimate and personal.

A sigh preceded your reply, unsure if you were speaking to her or yourself. “I think… Just as you said earlier: no matter if its daunting or nonsensical or even completely impossible – if you want it and you are willing to do everything in your power to get it?”

Hope lit behind her eyes, bloomed in her chest at the suggestion. “It could work.”

Struggle hid behind a mask of hope. Of course she did not know how it pained you to offer words that would never exist for yourself, and it wasn’t fair to ruin her moment of clarity with the bitter bite of ill-placed jealousy. There was no part of you that envied her condition, but instead what it entailed; you coveted her ability to choose the life she wanted.

Talia shook her head free, a giggle warm on her breath. “We should get out of here. Night shift is gonna run us off soon. You have the time?”

“Uh, not readily available. But I’m sure it’s way past shift change.” You started toward the door.

“Hey, I noticed you’ve been staying in the on-call rooms?”

“Oh.” It surprised you that she’d noticed. The knowledge warmed you to your core, both from embarrassment and appreciation. “Yeah, I know you guys have been swamped down here with all the fallout from Starkiller, so I just thought I’d stay near to help out.”

She tsked, your name a mocked plead. “You are Starkiller fallout. You need to rest. Especially now that you can. I got an update from Zag about the trial. You’ve got, what? Three or four days before Canto Bight? Seven until the initial hearing?”

She’d done the same math you’d gone over at length. Hearing it from someone else’s mouth made it that much more real. Frightening. “I know. I do, I know. But what’s wrong with spending them here?”

“You know as much as I do that working constantly drains the absolute soul from you. Even just working these past three days I have been dying for my time off.”

“Yeah, but you have a reason to be tired.”

“I’m pregnant. You survived a planet exploding all the while keeping the Commander of the First Order alive. Are you forgetting that?”

Talia, I wish I could forget all of it. “No, I’m just-,”

“And I know you’ve been blowing off that McCarty guy. He’s a physician, right?”

Maybe you’d been less discreet in your efforts toward avoidance than you thought. It felt like being caught; this web of lies was becoming a strain, less of a benefit, a hinderance rather than protection. “He’s… Mason doesn’t know what he’s asking for, you know?”

“No, I don’t know.” Talia strode to your side, stern eyes on your own. “Look,” a breath softened her demeanor, “whatever happened on Starkiller, whatever you saw or felt – it’s affecting you. I don’t know what it is, and I’m not asking you to tell me – though, you can tell me anything – but at some point it becomes a choice to remain stagnant in grief.”

“Hey!” Talia had always been blunt, but her audacity now clawed at your patience.

“Okay, sorry, yes that was very harsh,” she placed a firm hand on your shoulder, “but you are the one who made me realize that. Here. Now.”

Tears threatened but remained stuck in your throat. “Like you said, I’m alone in this. I have to be.”

“The way I see it, you aren’t-,”

“Talia, I am.”

“You aren’t. Me being here and that physician coming here every night is proof of that.” You met her with silence. She shrugged. “You could have left me to deal with my issues alone, but you saw me and knew I couldn’t.” More silence on your part, her stare flicking between your eyes. “I see you. You can’t deal with this alone. I won’t let you.”

You fought to hide them, but one by one fell the tears you had not permitted before. For so long it seemed you had been shielding others from hurt, ensuring a safety they were not aware they needed. Talia was offering that to you, now. Rejection was the first instinct to kick in, feelings of doubt and thoughts of I do not deserve this blaring in urgency.

But then she spoke, naming what you had been too scared to confront. “Choose to not be alone. It doesn’t make you a bad person,” her hand left you, overwhelming assurance in her smile, “You’ve been strong for long enough, for so many others. Let someone be strong for you for once.”

The next breath you took was a million times lighter than any you’d had since seeing Kylo those days ago. She really did see you, more than she could ever know. It was imperfect, of course; you weren’t sure anyone would ever be fully aware of how much pain you were in, there was so much you could never share. It was her offer that brought you solace; it may be superficial for you, but Talia was in your corner, and she believed, knew, that it meant something. In her eyes, pooled with intensity, you heard her loud and clear: that oath, born in blood, was renewed here and now, its strength indelible even in silence.

“Now,” she activated the door, its hiss shivering down your spine, “I think Mason would love it if you caught up with him.” The two of you stepped into the hall, already beginning to part paths. “I’d invite you to stay with me but I, uh…”

“You’ll be otherwise predisposed?”

“…We’ll see,” rose bloomed in her cheeks, “I don’t think I’ll tell him. Not tonight. Not yet.”

“Ah,” you sighed, a yawn slipping past.

“Get some sleep! And maybe just… get some, you know?”

The joke registered too late, her paces halfway down the hall before you called out, “Oh. Oh. No, I’m not with- we aren’t anything more than friends.” Not sure if she even heard you, she waved behind her before turning a corner. Well. That’ll need clarifying.

Heat flared in your cheeks, several pairs of eyes weighing on your shoulders at the outburst. Would there ever be a day when you were not embarrassing yourself on this unit? Given this would be the last shift before going to Canto Bight, probably not. Eyes tracking your steps, deciding to surprise Mason instead of call him, you found your way to the on-call room where your entire world was set up; remnants of a past one, at least.

In it you gathered your belongings – a pair of back up scrubs, a toiletries bag, and the lifeless watch. There was a hesitance before placing the device with the other items. Six nights you had spent staring at its blank face, resenting the stranger you’d come to see. Glancing your face before placing it in the bag, you did a double-take. In the most minute details, barely there, you found a familiarity in the eyes you met; they were less dull, something like life or light peeking through the surface.

You dropped the gadget into your pocket, gathered your uniform into the bag, and took a final glance at the shelter you’d sought amidst a storm that had nearly consumed you. Even though nothing had truly mended, there was comfort in the absence of solitude; in the face of probable death, the explicit knowledge that you were not alone made it less daunting. Less impossible.

A final breath brought the door to a close, footsteps leading you into the vast expanse of the Finalizer. The change in air was nice, lungs welcoming the difference and cluing you into the fact you still had a gauze square shoved up your nose. It took a tug to pull it from its place, a sting pinching at the sudden release of pressure.

“Shit,” you hissed, feeling a new stream of warmth trickle past your lips. Two fingers pressed to your mouth, testing for a mirage but coming back with the real thing, red creaks splintering into the ridges of your fingerprint. Without thinking you wiped it down your scrub top, forgetting you were no longer clothed in camouflaging black, but instead unforgiving grey. “Fuck!”

“Wasn’t this how I left you here the last time?”

The airlock must have snapped, lungs solid, muscles frozen. Tension seized your ribcage, pulse plummeting, blood bounding against tuned ears. Every bit of moisture abandoned your mouth. Every bodily process you could think of stopped.

There was no modulation, each word raw, bare, and clear as the last time you had heard their founder. At least, the last time you’d heard it while awake. It was less haunted now, filled not with insidious rage but rather bone-chilling earnest.

“I suppose not, given it’s your blood tonight.”

He drew nearer, boots heavy and steps paced to perfection, the rhythm of his stride an echo of your heart. Kylo Ren was less than three paces from you and all you could do was endure the sensation of a singular ruby droplet following the line of your artery, dragging past your clavicle, and ghosting the skin over your sternum. The crimson trail began to dry, steps no longer sounding when you forced yourself to look up.

Chaos tore into the base of your spine, every nerve ending firing at the sight of his bare face, no helmet to veil the visage you had memorized. The black strip rested in prominence, striking through his features; in it you found a curious attraction, finding it fit him. The wound was less severe now, healing with time. He wore no helmet, but that by no means meant there was no mask keeping him at a distance only he knew the measure of.

“Where have you been, officer?” Cyanosis was a likely reality, breath still evading you as each word fell in baritone; petrified pupils not knowing where to focus. “Your services finally required, and yet you were nowhere to be found.”

Nothing. No words. No sound. No thoughts. Barren in every aspect of cognizance, you remained silent and still, only knowing to perceive him for what he was: superior.

A twitch at his brow, a narrowing of his eyes. Studying. Testing. “How unfortunate; starved for words when they would actually count.” His injury moved fluidly against his words, a beauty in the way it ebbed with each syllable.

A ping sounded at your waist, commlink buzzing in your pocket.

Languid, Kylo’s eyes dipped toward the sound. “You should get that,” he drawled, eyes twitching before conquering yours once more, “could be important.”

His tone haunted you, demeanor too suggestive. You swallowed against a dry throat, locked in his stare, knuckles brushing your watch when you took out your commlink. It trembled in your grip, shocked muscles heavy with weakness. His concentration had become adamant, palpable, an eyebrow prompting your attention to whatever message had triggered the alarm.

Concerning the defendant,

In the week since the previous correspondence, it has come to be that the defendant is to partake in nursing practice during her time on Canto Bight. This allows the Board of Physicians ease in collecting surveillance imperative to their final judgement.

Commander Ren’s decision to bar the defendant from external practice has been nullified as to not contradict this process.

In permitting the defendant’s practice while on trial, the objective to obtain a new provider has been benched. Due to this, the defendant shall remain assigned to her current Master while residing on Canto Bight…

At last, breath flourished your lungs, an inadvertent gasp thrusting a glutton of oxygen into your airway. Crazed eyes darted over the message for any sign of a mistake that would prove it to be falsified; the only thing you could find was finality, a document containing the proposed schedule attached at the end of the message.

A buzz washed through your brain, overstimulated by the information, everything around you suddenly all too close and bright. Jaw bound shut but still trembling, eyes low and unfocused, a familiar pressure flicked just under your chin. The Force tipped your face upward, pupils strict in their position, passing first over a tense jaw and landing at last on the challenge that lay behind Kylo Ren’s glare.

“I’ll see you on Canto Bight, officer.” A serpentine smirk slithered along his lips, one stride bringing him so his face was hidden, shoulder linked with yours, and fingers jut out to graze at the hidden permanence atop your left thigh. His voice, an onslaught of emptiness, a cold threat, suffocated all that surrounded you. “You wanted to give me more? Prove it.”

#kylo ren #kylo ren fanfic #kylo ren x you #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren imagine #ao3 #st kyp

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rogue-barnes-16 · 4 years

Text

THE MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE OF NATASHA ROMANOFF (part V/?)

Summary: after the too convenient disappearance of Natasha Romanoff, the Avengers —a local biker gang— search for help in the most unexpected place in order to get their friend back. Will it help, or will the situation just get more twisted and dangerous?

Pairing: biker!Bucky Barnes x reader

Genre: angst-ish (biker gang au)

Tags:

The mysterious disappearance of Natasha Romanoff: @shirukitsune @retrxbarnes @montypythonsholysnail

Permanent taglist: @notexactlythatgirl @thisismysecrethappyplace @sofreakinmanyfandoms @pizzarollpatrol @bubblycypress87 @1a-girl-has-no-name1 @loislp @lovenaturefirst @dyanna-corona @2ptonpt @goodnightmode @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @mannls @cutie1365 @catch22inareddress @mybooradley @sebastianisasnack @butifulsoul125 @unlikelygalaxygiver

Warnings: language

A/N: I've been kinda missing for quite a while, posting something here and there, but I kinda miss writing regularly so I'll try come back to posting twice-thrice a week, but you gotta give me a bit to get some shit rearranged and written for that schedule to be possible. Meanwhile, enjoy this part of the series and if you wanna be added to the taglist, send an ask <3.

The mysterious disappearance of Natasha Romanoff masterlist

Rogue-barnes-16 masterlist

I took a deep breath and threw myself against the backrest, waiting for the first location to load while my hands ran through up my face and through my hair.

A yawn escaped my lips as I checked the laptop's clock first, and the timer for the code to do its magic second.

Leaving the laptop over the chair where I had been sitting, I walked my way to the kitchen and poured myself what would be the fourth coffee of that morning.

As soon as I finished, I made my way to the balcony were I used to spend those early mornings with my mug held between my palms.

I took a sip of my coffee, resting my elbows over the small balcony's railing. My were eyes closed as I breathed in the forest morning breeze.

"So much for saying it was a one-night stand." A teasing voice behind me asked, and a grin tugged the corners of my lips. "You still here?"

"It's been two weeks since that." I taunted him, taking a sip. "get over it."

"can't get over you." He dramatically stated in his morning husky voice, which made the sentence seem way more romantic than I thought it was.

"So fucking cheesy." I laughed.

"Bare with me, doll." feeling his lips against my temple made my smile wider while a pair of hands traveled from behind me to rest on my hips. "this is mine." he tugged the hem of his jacket, which I was wearing.

I hummed in response, leaning my back against his chest. "It's chilly out here. I didn't wanna get cold."

He tugged the hem of his jacket eagerly, feathery kisses tracing a path from my shoulder to my neck "come back to bed" I chuckled at his eagerness . " it's still warm."

"I got work to do" I replied noctant with the sole goal of sort-of upsetting him in a playful way. "No time for cuddling."

"Please, Y/n." he whined, slowly pulling me away from the balcony to take me back to the bed. "Just ten minutes."

"It's not gonna be ten minutes." I retorted playfully, turning around to kiss his lips as we entered the bedroom once more. "You're not fooling anyone with those puppy eyes, Barnes."

He let out a subtle laugh "at least you won't get cold."

I shivered.

It was always a little bit too chilly during the morning in that balcony.

I felt the urge to squeal when a jacket was suddenly thrown over my shoulders as a reply to my subtle shiver.

I held it back, though, and instead, grabbed the lapels clothing offered and put it on while a tall figure made its way to my side "Drop the coffee, yunky." Sam teased, resting his elbows over the railing without sparing me more than a subtle glance. "it's like the tenth one I see you with this mornin'."

"It's just the fourth one." I responded, looking before me to avoid eye contact with him as I took a sip of the coffee. "It's nice to see your level of drama hasn't changed at all."

"it's good to see your level of sarcasm is still the same, too." I shook my head with a smirk I couldn't hold back. "I kinda missed that annoying sass."

"Oh boy, ain't I aware of that."

His amused yet brief chuckle preceeded a surprisingly soothing silence between the two of us.

"So" I looked over to him and, by the knowing half smile in his face as he watched me intently, I just knew what he was going to mention. "a boyfriend?"

"Hell no," I denied with a scoff. "we're not talking 'bout that."

"C'mon, Y/n." he whined, turning to face my side. "I won't tell Barnes."

"Sam" I pinched the bridge of my nose as all the bad memories from those last days with them came back around, as if they had been summoned by Bucky’s last name. "I still don't trust you. Any of you."

"Uh... Sorry."

"Like-- I appreciate you tryin" I explained the best way I could. "but we're not there yet, and I don't know if we ever will."

"Yeah I'm-"

I shut my eyes as the self-awareness of how rude I might have sounded hit me. "I'm sorry I-"

"No, no, I'm sorry, you're right." he sighed, rubbing is hands together in an anxious manner. "And... I know it's not my place to ask any of this, but-" he took a split second to measure his words before speaking. "You're happy with him, right?"

I frowned, not at the question itself, but at what was carefully hidden behind it. "what d'ya mean?"

"I mean, you're with him because he makes you happy, right?"

"Wilson, why the fuck would I be with him if he didn't?" I inquired, now turning around to face him as my tone turned more hostile each passing second.

"I shouldn't be sayin' this but-"

"But you're gonna say it anyway." I finished. He opened his mouth a couple of times but nothing came out. "C'mon, what d'ya mean?"

"Listen-" he glanced around before continuing the sentence he had just started. "I'm just sayin I hope it's 'cause you're happy together and not 'cause of Bucky."

We eyeballed each other for a hot second while the anger built up inside me, making it so damn hard for me not to explode.

"Y'know what? I'm not havin' it." I stated, stepping away from the balcony in order to reach the living room.

"That's not an answer."

"You don't fuckin' deserve one." I hissed, grabbing the laptop to finish what was left to do as quickly as I could, now eager to flee out of there.

How dare him? I thought to myself. Who the fuck gave him the right to say shit like that.

The moment I was done with the laptop, I smacked it shut and, picking up my jacket, I rushed downstairs.

I was so inside my thoughts that I ended up bumping into Bucky on my way out, which left us both with barely enough balance to avoid falling down the stairs.

"Shit- sorry."

"Don't worry." he let go of my forearms, which I didn't know he was holding, and I shockingly enough, had to do the same, since I gripped his arms to avoid falling. "You okay?"

"Yeah- I mean..." I puffed, affirming with my head. "I'm fine."

"I..." I stared into his eyes for a moment, watching him trying to read me in order to find out what was wrong. "You sure?" I only nodded as his worried irises observed me. "you finished?"

"Yeah, everything's set in the laptop already." he mumbled an 'alright' and stepped aside, freeing the way for me to exit. "I... I really hope you find her."

"I'll call you if I need your help again." he answered, and, right after, attempted to climb upstairs.

"Bucky wait!" I followed him just to be close enough to be able to grab his hand, which made his whole body tense. "I changed my number." I explained whilst getting a pen out of my pocket to scribble my new number on his palm. "there it goes." I let go of him with a pang of sadness that I wouldn't even admit to myself. "keep me updated." I requested, trying my best to ignore the tinge of red creeping up his neck and ears.

"Okay. Have a good time with your boyfriend." what was meant to be a smile ended up as a pursed lip, and I couldn't blame him since I felt my mouth doing the same gesture as I climbed downstairs to the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

BUCKY'S P. O. V.

I double checked Natasha's phone's latest locations, which Y/n had managed to get before leaving, before going back to the map in order to revise which were areas out of New Jersey and Queens.

"Hey" I spun my head to the door frame, against where Sam's side was now resting. "How's it going?"

"Uh... I think we have something." I informed him, pointing at one small area near the center of Manhattan. "I called Carter— I know, Steve's gonna kill me." I stated, anticipating whatever Sam must have thought of saying out loud. "She said Hydra's boys have been seen in this area for a while and--"

"I wasn't asking 'bout Nat." he cut me off, tilting his head to the side slightly while the faintest tinge of worry showed up in his eyes. "I meant-- y'know what I meant."

"What d'ya want me to say?" I questioned with a wannabe-careless shrug. "It's going. Just like it's been goin' for 'bout year already."

I took a peek at his face and I just knew he was about to explain to me how different it had been today from the rest of that year of me drowning in self-pity.

"Don't-"

"She got a boyfriend."

"Yeah, I heard that too." I replied sarcastically, getting up in order to reach for the phone again.

"What I mean-"

"She moved on, I know." I finished his sentence, starting to mark Peggy's number once again. "Can you focus on-"

Sam teared the phone away from me in a swift movement, which left me shocked for a couple of seconds.

"what the hell, Wilson?"

"Don't call Peggy," he warned me, locking the phone and placing it in his pocket. "Steve's gonna end you. And-"

"I swear if it's 'bout-"

"I wasn't gonna say that she moved on, you idiot." he snapped. "I was gonna say, don't do anything fucking stupid."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It means she's not single." my friend warned me with arms crossed, no longer resting against the door frame. "It means that if somethin' happens and she doesn't stop it-"

"Nothin'll happen," I assured him with a sting of pain in my heart.

He sighed, scratching the back of his neck. "I'm just sayin'..."

"Sam."

"I'm tryna help, man." his reply sounded as a desperate whine. "If you do something stupid and her relationship goes south, the blame's gonna be on you."

"It wouldn't-"

"It will," he argued, lowering the voice before continuing. " 'cause it's easier to blame the ex who fucked her up."

"We're all adults."

"Yeah" he agreed. "but you're my friend and I don't wanna see you bawling and weeping for another year."

"I'll be just fine."

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