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dystopian-reverie · 2 years

Note

Hi (this is wysteria-clad) just tossing idea of Tamil reader x moon boys.

Imagine when you take the boys to a family function and they see so many immediate and extended family members, they are nice to them, constantly giving them something like eat especially sweets, excitedly hugging them, and the boys get overwhelmed in a good way. Hello, Indian weddings 😂

Title: Vanna Kolathil Vaanam! (The Sky, a Colourful Mess!)

Pairing: Desi!Reader x Moon Boys

Rating: General, pure wholesomeness

Summary: Guiding your boyfriends through Indian culture and customs, which you know can be quite overwhelming. Indian family and neurodivergent western boyfriend bonding time! Unrealistic desi family representation that made me wish I literally had these people as my relatives.

A/n: *cracks knuckles* all my time spent daydreaming about dragging the Moon boys into Desi, especially Tamil culture is at last put to use, I was BORN ready to answer this ask to the point where I'm turning this into a fic, so here I go.

Not proofread so if you see any glaring mistakes, no you didn't.

Translation to all the words and phrases is included at the end.

Convincing your family that you're going to bring your current boyfriend to this year's Diwali, as you guessed, wasn't an easy feat.

The moment you opened your mouth and the word "Boyfriend" spilled out, your entire family, extended included, nearly pounced on you, with an exception of your cousins, who you were hoping would save you and have your back from the elders.

The words following didn't help them calm down any further.

"He isn't Tamil??" Your uncle asked anxiously.

"No, Mama, he isn't-"

"Oh, a multi-cultural wedding in the future then!" Your younger cousin chimed in, putting in his dime to make this as light-hearted as possible.

"A North Indian then? Ayy, do we all finally have to learn Hindi?" Your aunt joked, getting collected chuckles from everyone in the room.

Forcing a laugh that sounded like an orca whale choking, you gulped. This is gonna be harder than you thought.

"He isn't an Indian, aththa, he is... Well, he was born in America, then spent some time in London, but he travels around the world a lot,"

"Hold on, he's an American?? Like NRI?" Your younger aunt asked.

"No, chithi, he isn't brown, at all-"

"Ada kadavule!" Your grandma gasped.

Shit. When the oldest in the pack are displeased, then your entire plan of introducing your boyfriends to your family might as well go down the drains.

"A white man. My daughter is going to marry a white man," Your dad kept murmuring in disbelief.

"He isn't white either," You mumbled. "He is of Latino descent"

Your family stared at you, wide eyes blinking at you. You knew how alien this is all to your family. Sending you off to America for your higher studies, as they all expected, came with more consequences than they'd thought.

They all were trying their best to be supportive and change their worldviews to accommodate a person into this wonderful family, and it meant the world to you. This could've easily been way worse, as bad as you disowning them all and running away to him forever.

Steven's calming and reassuring words echoed in your brain. He had asked you to be confident and level-headed while talking to your family, promising that everything was going to turn out fine.

It took Marc months to finally tell you that he's ready for you to talk about him to his family. You never pushed him, or constantly brought up the topic. You gave him all the time and space he needed to mull over that idea. Sharing your childhood stories meant him learning all about Indian family dynamics and whatnot, and isn't that enough for a poor Western man to fear for his life?

"So how big is your family?" Jake had asked, making you nearly choke on your idli.

"You do not wanna know, chellam," You gulped some water and went back to eating.

"Guess we all have to download duolingo then," Your younger uncle said and everyone laughed.

"So who is he? What's his name?" Your mom asked.

"Before we get into all of that, there's something important I need to tell you all," You fidgeted with your dupatta.

"Thangam, we just asked you his name?" Your uncle asked.

"He has DID," You blurted. "Dissociative Identity Disorder," You looked at your psychiatrist cousin, hoping he'd take over from here to explain all the technical stuff. You could do it yourself, but you just wanted all the eyes of you for just a second.

After giving your family some cool-down time to wrap their minds around it, they asked you what happened to him to the point he had to develop this disorder, to which you promptly said that it was not your story to share, it was your boyfriend's.

"He has three alters. They are all my boyfriends,"

"Holy shit, y/n has three boyfriends? While I'm here struggling to land even one?" Your younger cousin said, few asked him to stop swearing, and few laughed along but mostly, she did help in bringing down the tension in the air.

"Marc Spector, Steven Grant, Jake Lockley" You proceeded to tell your eager family all about the love of your life, playing with your bangles the whole time, excluding the part of them being ex-avatars of an ancient Egyptian deity and Marc's days as a mercenary.

"See, all of them are working and well-mannered gentlemen, I always knew you would choose well, Kanna," Your grandad smiled at you, as you felt the tight knot that you didn't realize was there loosen up considerably, finally letting you breathe properly.

"Y/n where are you? Everyone is waiting for you guys! Are y'all still getting ready?" You read your older brother's text and sent a hasty reply that you guys will reach your grandparent's house in 5 minutes.

The truth was, Marc and you were already parked at the end of the street, going over all the norms and relations, how to call them, and such one last time.

"Your mom is my aththa, your dad is my mama, your brother is my machan, and your little sister- who is she to me?" Marc looked up at you.

"I don't know, I just know that you're her mama, okay? I know, I know, there are lots of relations using the term mama, like uncle, father-in-law, or brother-in-law for younger girls. You'll get the hang of it soon enough," You took his hands into yours and gave him an encouraging squeeze.

"Marc, baby, you do know that you don't have to do this. I can just call everyone now and tell them that you can't make it-"

"No," Marc shook his head. "Y/n, I have to do this. I want to do this. They're your family, they are important to you. Which means they're important to me too,"

"Steven?" You asked. Marc just nodded, and the next second, the man sitting next to you was your sweet Steven.

"Hey, you ready?" You asked and he nodded, running his hand through his hair, checking his reflection in the rearview mirror.

"I'll just be glad at the end of the day if this vetti doesn't fall off," He joked.

"Aye, don't worry about that! I tied it around you myself, it won't fall off, okay?" You laughed, your fingers hovering over his shirt and collar.

"I'm just wearing a simple shirt and vetti, darling, but look at you," He said, eyes sweeping over you as a blush crept on your cheek.

"You look gorgeous, love" He smiled, his wide eyes shining bright.

"You don't look half bad yourself, Romeo. Hey, is Jake here? Can I talk to him?" You asked.

"'Course, love," he said before letting way to his other alter to front.

"Oh and remember, all of you, I know this is a celebration, but a public display of affection is... not recommended, okay?" You said, checking your bag to make sure you had all the supplies. One can never be too sure if they're all set while entering an Indian celebration. "This is not a regular Diwali celebration for my family this year, we are hosting nearly the entire neighborhood," You mumbled, praying that everything goes well.

"Let's just hope there are hidden corners and passages in the house," Jake said, earning a playful glare from you.

"What? You expect me to keep my hands off you when you look like that?" Jake snaked his arm around your waist to pull you close and plant a kiss on your temple.

You were wearing an off-white and crimson saree decorated with embroidered patterns. Adorned with pieces of jewelry you and your family spent hours selecting, you knew you practically shined with all the gold framing your face, neck and waist, and wrist.

Throwing a glance at him, you had to bite back the urge to say that it was going to be harder to keep your hands off of him when he looked that good.

Hair gelled to perfection, a week full of good night's sleep, shopping, and spa made his dark circles disappear and made him glow, clean-shaven face showing off his sharp jaw and structured face. You couldn't help but feel your pride swell in your chest- he looked so sharp and handsome.

"It's getting late, darling, the function's already started. We need to get going,"

Your grandparent's house- One of the oldest and the grandest in the village, stood tall and proud against the background of trees and temples. Decorated with fairy lights and bustling with people who were either relatives or friends, the house seemed to be booming with life and a wonderful festive spirit that evening.

"So many people," You could hear Marc mutter in awe... or he was trying to calm his senses that are always on high alert whenever he was in a crowded place.

Eyes turned to gaze at the two of you, the granddaughter who left for America and her foreign boyfriend, the moment you both stepped inside the gates.

"Y/n! Come inside. Oh, there he is! The main man of the night!" Your aunt's shrill and excited voice penetrated through the murmurs and excited giggles from the crowd. "As for the rest of you, please do resume enjoying the food and beverages," She said, her sweetness not wavering even in her sharp tone.

Intertwining his hands in yours, you made sure he was alright one last time before you both proceeded to make your way to your family, who didn't waste a second in gathering in front of you.

Your mom and her sister rushed from inside, holding a ceremonial brass plate with colored, ceremonial powders, betel leaves, a couple of bananas, and a flame burning bright at its edge.

"Stand closer, dears," you don't know whose hands pushed you closer to your boyfriend, making you nearly fall over him.

"So what do I do now?" Marc whispered in your ears.

"When they've stopped circling this plate in front of us, they'll extend it towards you, you hover your hands over the flame and then place your palms over your eyes. After that, you take one of the three over there," You pointed to the viboothi, sandhanam, and kungumam.

"The red powder is the kungumam, the white one is the viboothi, and the sandal liquid is sandhanam. You take any of that and place it on your forehead," You said, as Marc listened to you intently, his eyes following the plate wherever it went.

"Which one should I choose?"

You mulled over that question for a while.

"Well, I feel like Steven would go with sandhanam, you'd go with the viboothi and Jake with the kungumam,"

"Mama, who is fronting now?" Your younger sister asked him. Your heart melted as you realized that your family has already accepted him.

"I'm Marc," he smiled, extending his hands. "So nice to finally meet you in real life," Your sister took his hand and shook it warmly, all smiley.

"Welcome to India, Marc, and more importantly, welcome to our family!" Your dad patted him on the back.

Sharing glances with him, the tension in your shoulders eased as you saw Marc practically gleaming. If he had any traces of fear or nervousness in him, he was good at hiding it.

"Marc, place the kungumam on her forehead, will you?" Your aunt asked him.

Looking at you for your approval, Marc caught you furiously blushing, tugging on the ends of your saree, and paired it up with the girls around you both giggling.

He did it nevertheless, the red vermillion streak now visible above your pottu. "What does it mean?" He whispered.

"Husbands do that to their wives," You mumbled, trying to look at him without blushing harder. Turns out, that piece of information had the same kind of effect on Marc too.

Goddamit, all these traditional lovey-dovey things were making you weak and stereotypical. But hey, when are you going to have anything like this again? You decided you, along with your boyfriend, are going to have one hell of a time this Diwali with your family.

"It isn't enough to take Aarthi for just one maapla, is it!?" Your grandma pointed out, as everyone started muttering their agreements.

Marc immediately understood what happened and let Steven front. Your family watched dumbfound as they realized that the man standing in front of them was clearly not the one who was here just seconds back.

"Steven?" Your brother asked.

"Hello there, mate, nice to meet you," Steven smiled brightly, looking wide-eyed at everyone around him. Out of all three of them, Steven was the best at handling crowds.

"Paati ma," He immediately recognized your granny from the family pictures and bowed down to touch her feet, getting collective gasps and immediate approvals and cries of pride from the crowd.

Your cousins watched in awe as you stood there, smirking. Your perfect, little boyfriend, capturing everyone's hearts already. He started out by conveying his Diwali wishes, and describing how wonderful this neighborhood and this house were as everyone conversed with him with great interest.

Repeating the same procedures to him, it was finally time for your family to meet Jake. Just because he was conscious when all this happened to Marc and Steven, he knew exactly what was expected of him and he did it with so much ease.

He handed them the sweets and fruits you both bought on the way.

"Oi, Mister, remember what I told you about the kids?" You nudged him.

"Of course, how could I forget?" He chuckled and pulled out a huge bag filled with chocolates and candies, making all the little kids go into a frenzy. "Keep the kids happy to keep the adults satisfied."

After spending a considerable amount of time deciding everyone's position for the big family picture, a perfect photo, with no one closing their eyes or having an ugly smile, approved by everyone, was clicked.

Things certainly didn't get easier for the Boys once they were all inside the house. With the adults restraining themselves from asking too many questions, the kids, using their freedom to the fullest, bombarded Jake and Steven with all they got. Marc fronted only when the hyper-active ankle biters went away to eat some sweet- a simple yet powerful tactic your uncle used to give that man some space to breathe.

"Is everyone here always so nice?" Marc asked you as a random person handed him a glass full of tender coconut water.

"Every family has its own drama and downsides, Marc, so does mine. But today, everyone decided to get along with one another and push aside unnecessary disputes because bigger things are happening," You gestured at all of him.

"All of this isn't too much, is it?" You bit your lips, dreading his answer.

"I think this is starting to grow on me," A small smile appeared on his lips as he sat down beside you on the couch. "I mean, this is all so extravagant and elaborate," He looked around the room with not a single person chilling or minding their own business. "I never thought I'd enjoy this kind of buzzing environment, but here I am," He said, gulping down the rest of the water.

"Hey! Why is maapla sitting all by himself? Is this how we treat a guest in this house?" Somebody yelled from the back.

"You're literally sitting here with me," Marc stated and got a firm head shake from you.

"Unless you're surrounded by at least 4 people at a time, you'd be considered alone,"

"Alright, damn,"

"Bring him to the dining table, food's ready! We all eat after those two have!" You heard your chithi's smile in her voice.

"Everyone's so happy to have you here, Marc," You smiled at him.

He shook his head in disbelief. "I've just- I've never really had these many people around me who aren't actively trying to kill me. Neither have Jake and Steven,"

"Don't be so quick to speak, chellam. My family will kill you by stuffing you with more sweets and savories well after you tell them that you're full," You said, both of you chuckling.

The entire night, before the actual fireworks began, felt like you were in a hyper-realistic Tamil film, with all your relatives buzzing about, bringing every South Indian dish known to date to the table, intent on making Marc, Steven, Jake and you eat all of it.

Marc looked at you with pleading eyes, practically begging you to ask them to stop, not realizing that you had no power over them either. Jake, on the other hand, was intent on tasting everything on the table. You soon found out that all three of them developed a taste for Mothi Ladoos and Mysore Pak.

After that pleasurable turned painful event got over, came the time to play family games. The kids were intent on making the Boys play charades, and soon the entire family joined in. Steven was unbelievably good at it, for some reason, and his team kept scoring too many points.

Most of the adults, including Jake and Marc, were on your team but you all were still no match for Steven and his little army of kids he had raised at this point.

The prime of the night rolled by as everyone set outside, big bags full of various kinds of crackers and fireworks. The entire length of the street was engulfed by light from the crackers. Everyone was running around from their house to another, exchanging gifts, sweets, and crackers.

You soon found out that Steven's favorite was the mathaapu. He made patterns and circles with that in the air. He soon became the mathaapu supplier for everyone. He steered clear away from the bigger fireworks, anxiously tugging on his vetti, making sure it doesn't get caught on fire.

Jake, as you had guessed, handled all the scary ones along with your brother and uncles. He dragged you with him whenever he lighted up a firework, stealing a light peck or two on your cheeks and neck when everyone was too busy looking at the skies.

Marc was so glad and amused when the kids tugged on his shirt and asked him to help them light the sangu chakrams and busvaanams. He made sure all the water buckets were always full with water, and that the kids didn't get too close to anything dangerous. Immediately stole the adults' hearts.

All the relatives and neighbors took turns bothering you and your family about your boyfriend, and if your friends didn't help in cutting them off at the right times, you would've damn near lost your mind.

When all the celebrations and the seemingly never-ending hype came down, at last, giving way to a settling night with everyone packing and cleaning stuff, with few getting back to their homes, you finally got your boyfriend all to yourself.

"Finally, some calm, huh," You inhaled deeply, taking advantage of the cold night air grazing your skin. After changing from the growingly uncomfortable attire, and removing all your makeup, you felt like you were at last able to breathe properly. Every muscle in your body ached

You and Steven were on the terrace now, just a few feet away from your temporary room the adults have cleaned up in haste.

Your boyfriend's silence made you quirk up. "Hey, is everything alright? Do you need to get back to our room?"

"No, darling, it's not that," He started, trying to find the right words.

The moment you sat down beside him, he was quick to pull you into an embrace, warmer than any firework made you feel that night. Without pulling away for a few minutes, Steven snuggled his face into the crook of your neck as you played with his hair and stroked his back.

Neither of you had to speak anything- no small talks, no reminiscing the eventful and draining night, or discussing the people of the town. All of that was for later.

After double checking that there was no one around you both, you placed a kiss on top of his head and received a heavy sigh that tickled your neck in turn.

"Thank you,"

You didn't know when Marc started fronting, but that surely was him. At this point, you knew all three were very much conscious, all three of them were here.

"Thank you," He said again, as you started cradling him in your arms.

That one word conveyed more than whatever he could've said at that time.

Translations:

Mama - Uncle/ Father-in-Law/ Older Sister's husband

Aththa - Aunt/ Mother-in-Law

Chithi - Mom's younger sister

Ada Kadvule! - Oh God!

Chellam - My dearest

Thangam - Gold, precious

Kanna - Dear

Vetti - A traditional attire usually worn by men around their waist that stops near their ankle. Official vettis are always white in color.

Saree - A traditional attire usually worm by women (that's a pain to wrap around your body)

Kungumam - Vermillion kept on people's foreheads.

Viboothi - A white-coloured ash-like powder, also kept on foreheads.

Sandhanam - Liquid Sandal, also kept on foreheads

Busvaanam - A firework that looks like a fountain or a tree

Sangu Chakram - Firework that spirals on the floor while letting off colorful sparks.

Mathaapu - A firework that you hold on to as it burns through its length.

Aarthi - A special kind of welcoming guests or your loved ones into the house.

Taglist (not my usual taglist!):

@wysteria-clad @jake-g-lockley @lil-stark @mintpurplemnm

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mrskurono · 3 years

Text

title: Haijima Halloween || Yuichiro Kurono x fem!Reader a/n: there's an ask floating around somewhere about Haijima being "friendlier" with the kids after the Haijima arc and 'm sorry but this crack fic is what I certifiably am calling my "Halloween" fic for the year. word count: 2k tags: fem!Reader, office stupidity, fluff, mildly crack fic ish ngl, one (1) kiss, semi edited character(s): Yuichiro Kurono (fire force) ft. Nataku Son + Director Oguru synopsis: Haijima staff said trick or treat. Kurono is not immune to capitalist propaganda or cute family costumes

Floral foam made an incredible stinger to bring the entirety of the bee costume together.

Wrapped in some black felt so the safety pin had a place to go securely even on the most reluctant of bees. Honestly you marveled at your quick work as the piece of mediocre costume designed sat on the desk before you. Matching the set of antennas that Direct Oguru already had. You laughed at the idea it might seem like your calling was in crafts service industry. But Haijima probably owned the local craft store too. Still leading you to work under Haijima.

So staying to work in the Power Development labs probably made more sense.

Your career decisions were put on hold when your coworkers and their plus one came back into the room.

"I'm not wearing that." Kurono point blank didn't even question it. That black whatever on the desk was not part of his job description.

"It's a stinger," You grumble as you get up. Careful not to ruin your own costume as you snag your hard work off the table, "You'd look like a ridiculous bee without a stinger."

Oguru covered his mouth but it didn't silence the point blant derogatory snicker, "You already look ridiculous."

Kurono kept shaking his head without a flinch in his deadpan expression, "This is not in my job description."

Reaching over and tapping the vibrant hand made petals of the sixth pillar loitering around the three of you at waist level, Oguru shook his head with a casual slimy smile, "Your job is to protect little Nataku here."

Eyes narrowing on Oguru for a second, Kurono looked down at Nataku in his credibly cute but albeit weak sunflower costume, "I expect a bonus from this."

"Haijima said it was our job to make the kids feel like normal kids and treat them better," You puff out the sides of thin foam that make the outline of your own watering can costume a little more believable to onlookers, "Nataku is part of the kids here so..."

"I like her," Oguru pointed over at you with his thumb jutting in your direction, "I knew there was a reason I let you two keep working together. She knows her stuff."

"I can do my job just fine without a costume if it doesn't include even an extra vacation day," Kurono glared at the stinger in his hand but seemed to whole heartedly accept or forget about the head band on his head. The antennas of the costume wiggling a top his head with each movement he made, "Nothing in my contract says I have to wear a costume and-"

"Ah- Not exactly true," Oguru shook his head and patted Nataku on the mess of blonde and orange curls he had, "Your contract is about complying to company rules. And, well, this is one of them now. So no extra vacation time."

"C'mon Kurono!" Nataku beamed a smile as disgustingly bright as his mock sunflower putfit. Only making it fit him so much better, "You're scary enough on your own. Just go as yourself."

Both you and Oguru immediately choked on your spit at Nataku's positive twist on the entire situation. Both of you turning away to laugh at the pensive man not entirely in his face. Nataku didn't seem to think is compromise was too bad when he glanced at the two of you confused why you'd be laughing.

Yellow eyes narrowing. It would have been worthy of a cold chill running up your spines if he wasn't standing in his normal suit. Adorn with the antenna's Oguru insisted he wear to match the group costume idea. He really did look ridiculous for someone dubbed Uncle Reaper.

"And why aren't you dressed up then?" Kurono directed his peeved glare at Oguru who was the odd man out of your trio at least.

Shrugging, Oguru in his normal black suit, shared a slimy smile, "I don't work for the Power Development branch. Plus, I'm also kind of your boss techincally."

"Kurono lets go!!" Nataku interrupted before the tall man could retort, "They said we can start at three!"

"Yes Mr. Bee," Oguru didn't hide his crooked grin at all as the three of you made your way out of his temporary office, "Go take your flower and your watering can trick or treating like a good worker bee."

Kurono couldn't roll his eyes at his boss that would definitely get him in trouble. But god did he want to as you pushed him out of the door and Nataku yanked on his sleeve to make him go faster.

"I need to find a different job."

Just like the email announced at the beginning of the month. The full shebang of trick or treating for the kids in the testing facility was exactly what Haijima pulled off.

Every office decorated. Bowls of candy behind every door and testing room. Staff dressed head to toe in cheaply made costumes that ranged from zombies and ghouls to fairies and rockstars. With kids just as spruced up as they bounded down the halls with white pillow cases screaming trick or treat at the same faces they saw day in and day out. This time though getting candy for it.

"Wow I don't think I've seen Nataku this happy before," You noted as you and Kurono stood back along the hall. Out of the way of the frenzy of little ones swarming everywhere.

Beaming with a smile as he mingled around the other kids. Third and second gens like himself. Complimenting and showing off their costumes. Utterly forgetting about their pyrokentic abilities for the time being. Nataku seemed genuinely happy even in the confines of the Power Development building. You couldn't help but smile at him.

Met of course with only silence beside you. It made you look over to see Kurono still clutching the stinger with a mild scowl on his face. Antennas still on his head and your smile didn't fade, "You make a cute bee you know."

Kurono's eyes slid over to you. Taken from Nataku for a second to see you smiling at him in that oversized foam suit you'd been wearing since eleven this morning when he helped you get it on. Kurono stared with an unblinking expression, "...You're certainly a watering can."

Grabbing your costumes sides you billowed it out a little laughing, "I spent most my time working on Nataku's costume. This was a little thrown together not gonna lie."

"Is that why I got the Director's weird headband? And, whatever this is?" Kurono looked at the felt covered foam stinger in his hand.

"Hey I tried ok. It was short notice." You offer to take the black stinger from him but Kurono doesn't give it up from his grasp, "Haijima doesn't exactly put its testing facilities in the middle of the empire for quick craft store runs y'know. Besides," You look from him to the costume prop in his hand and maybe admit it's less than pristine quality compared to Nataku's costume, "I didn't think you'd want to do this anyways."

"It's my job," Kurono exhaled slowly as Nataku ran down the hall with a gaggle of kids. He kind of wanted to trip them. But kind of wanted to leave just as much. So standing next you was a good compromise amidst both options. He looked over at Nataku in the doorway covered in fake spider webs asking for candy like the rest of them, "...just thought you'd put more work into it maybe. Since costumes were your job."

That caught you off guard. Had he expected an elaborate costume like you and Nataku? Kurono could scare a few kids on any day of the year. Halloween wasn't necessary for that. So hearing that he thought his costume would be a little more than bare minimum surprised you.

"I can...still put the stinger on? Complete the look." You cock a half smile, "Honestly I thought you wouldn't do any of this and that's why Oguru asked me to come down here for Nataku."

"Protecting the sixth pillar is part of my job now." Kurono retorted flatly.

"Yeah but...I mean," You broached the subject softer than most, "You're Uncle Reaper...Just, kinda thought you'd hate all of this."

Kurono looked at all the kids laughing and getting rowdier by the second. If only they put this much work into testing and training. But that would make his job too hard. He didn't want to fight people who put their all into it. Weak was so much better so his job was easy. Easy would have just been putting on the stinger and going along with all of this.

"If I hated it, then I'd find a new job." Kurono said quietly between the two of you. Kids running up and down the hall to another full bowl of candy. His eyes watched them like helpless mice going back and forth but Kurono remained stone still, "Probably worse pay but...I'd be doing something I hate there too."

"So you might as well stay here." You said.

"I do get to bully the weak." Kurono nodded like that was the only reason he stayed anymore. A blatant lie that even Nataku and Oguru had picked up on. Still though, this was Kurono.

"You do get to bully the weak," You echoed with a slight nod.

Kurono looked down at the stinger in his hand. It might have been a stupid costume. But you didn't do a bad job making it. He turned to you and silently offered the prop to you. Not surprised when you gave him a quizzical look once you took it. But he turned around partially and held still.

Immediately you got the idea of what he wanted. Filled to the brim with a giddy smile you still kept it professional. And for his sake not making too much of a scene. Just quietly securing the safety pin on his middle belt loop and grinning at your crafty work.

With as little as it was. The stinger added just a little something to Kurono's 'look' that sold the idea he was a bee. Utterly conveying nothing but the unamused look he was forever doomed to have. Kurono took a shallow breath and returned to staring forward at the group Nataku found himself in over towards the testing rooms.

"...it is my job after all." Kurono quietly said.

Smile tugging at the corner of your lip. You lean over and leave a faint peck of a kiss on the man's pale cheek without a soul catching on, "I think you make a nice bee."

Kurono looked over at you and it was all but a struggle to take him seriously with the way the antennas bobbed on his head. Leaving you looking at Oguru's prop and not expecting to have him lean inot you and spare a brief kiss on your lips of all places. Making your heart jump into your throat for a fleeting second. Until it was a reminder that you two were surrounded by sugar fueled children.

"Eww Uncle Reaper kissed the nice testing lady!!"

"K-I-S-S-I-N-G-"

"Ms. L/n is gonna get cooties!!"

For the onslaught of literal childish comments. Made by kids cackling with their bags of candy. You expected Kurono to snap at them or straight up leave.

But as you felt your cheeks warm up to the attention of your little exchange. You tried laughing it off and telling the kids to settle down. When you glanced over at Kurono. Who wasn't looking at you. But instead was looking over at Nataku of all people.

Goofy smile on the little sunflowers face. Giving Kurono a thumbs up and a grin. You couldn't believe the discrete thumbs up Kurono was giving him back.

The bee and the flower. Pulling a quick one over on the watering can. You glared at Nataku who quickly hid the thumbs up he gave Kurono. And when you flicked your attention over to the suited man next to you. He acted like nothing had happened.

"Bees drink from watering cans sometimes." Kurono spoke frankly even as you got everyone refocused on the trick or treating in the Haijima facility, "It's just my job to be a bee on Halloween."

#happy halloween everyone <3 #no one asked for it but this is my halloween fic heuheuheu #<333 #fire force #fire force x reader #enn enn no shouboutai #enn enn no shouboutai x reader #en en no shōbōtai #en en no shobotai #kurono #kurono yuichiro #kurono x reader #kurono yuichiro x reader

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yulje-fam · 3 years

Text

Of Fears and Heartbeats.

Summary: In a quiet living room - under the light of the moon - Jun-wan comforts U-ju and tries to put his fears to rest.

Relationships: Kim Jun-wan & Lee U-ju [Uncle & Nephew Familial Relationship]

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Mentions of death (fear of death, death of a pet, etc.)

Disclaimer: I don’t own “Hospital Playlist”!

Ao3 Cross-Post: “Of Fears and Heartbeats.” by RandmWriter

It was a little past two in the morning when Jun-wan woke to the sound of crying.

It took him a second to shake off the last vestiges of sleep, and another to register where he was and what he was hearing.

Ah, right.

He was on Ik-jun’s couch. It wasn't the first time he’d been in this particular situation. After all, Ik-jun’s emergency surgeries didn't care about the time of day - and just like tonight, there were times when no one else was available to watch U-ju.

Wait, U-ju-

Jun-wan bolted upright so quickly his vision faltered for a moment, but that was hardly his primary concern. After all, he had finally realized just who it was the quiet sobs were coming from - and he practically willed his eyes to adjust to the darkness faster. His head swiveled quickly as he swung his legs over the side of the couch, but he didn't have to look very far to find who he was searching for.

Even in the sparse light of the moon filtering in through the window, Jun-wan could see U-ju's figure in his bedroom doorway - one hand clinging to the doorframe while the other rubbed futilely at the tears streaming from his eyes.

Something in Jun-wan both softened and ached at the sight.

"Uju-ah," he called out gently. It wasn't a tone he often used, but for his nephew, he'd gladly make an exception.

Jun-wan could hear U-ju's sharp intake of breath at the call of his name, but the young boy made no move to pry himself from the doorframe. Jun-wan tried again.

"Uri U-ju," he began, gesturing with one arm to beckon U-ju towards the couch. "It's alright. Come here."

And apparently that was all the convincing he needed.

U-ju relinquished his hold on his bedroom's doorframe and padded softly towards Jun-wan, who - for his part - tried to keep his expression as gentle and encouraging as possible. When his nephew was finally close enough, Jun-wan kneeled in front of the young boy - trying to be level with him as much as possible.

From his new vantage point, the older man could finally see the child's face. Immediately, Jun-wan felt sympathy lance through him at the sight.

U-ju, he knew, had never been a handful. The young boy was never one to throw tantrums or demand attention - and it appeared that even when scared to tears in the middle of the night, it still wasn't in his nature to make a fuss. U-ju cried quietly - sniffling and hiccuping every now and again, but not wailing or anything even remotely close to it. The tears on his cheeks shone silver in the moonlight, but before U-ju could move to wipe them away, his uncle beat him to it.

As gently as he could, Jun-wan reached out to wipe away his nephew's tears - smiling at the young boy with the same warmth that was reflected in his eyes. He knew he wasn’t the most comforting person in the world, but for U-ju, he would certainly try.

"Something scary must have woken you up," the surgeon whispered, his thumb brushing away what little moisture remained on his nephew's cheeks. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

U-ju debated the question for a moment, before nodding slowly.

"Daege samchon," the young boy began, and Jun-wan couldn't keep the small smile from his face at the nickname. It seemed his "Uncle Snow Crab" title was here to stay.

U-ju took a deep breath before finally asking,

"Will my heart always keep beating?"

To say that Jun-wan was startled would have a been a massive, massive understatement. Why in the world was U-ju worried about that? He knew his nephew was smart and perceptive, but an existential crisis was the last thing he expected from a boy of his age. He definitely had to clarify.

"What makes you ask that, U-ju?" Jun-wan queried - concern coloring his words and his expression.

U-ju worried his bottom lip for a few moments before taking a deep breath.

"Mo-ne's dog just died," the young boy whispered, gaze trained on the floor. "She asked her appa about what it means when something dies, and he told her that sometimes when dogs are really old, their heart stops beating and they die."

U-ju raised his gaze to meet his uncle's, and Jun-wan could have sworn that something inside him shattered when he saw the tears gathering in his nephew's eyes.

"Daege samchon-" U-ju choked out through the lump in this throat, his voice small and terrified. "What if my heart stops beating? I don't want that to happen, b-but I don't know how to c-control it!"

It seemed that voicing his fears was the final crack that broke the dam of his composure, because as soon as he finished, U-ju burst out into tears. The silent sobs of before were long gone - replaced by cries born of bone-rattling fear and confusion.

Jun-wan wasted no time in gathering U-ju in his arms, picking up the small boy and hushing his cries. He sat down on the sofa with his nephew in his lap - rubbing his back in an effort to offer as much comfort as he could. U-ju buried his face in his uncle's neck - sobbing and hiccuping and so, so vulnerable that Jun-wan hugged him all the closer.

Neither of them knew how long they stayed that way; but after quite some time - with Jun-wan never faltering in his efforts to soothe his young charge - the young boy's wailing cries quieted until all that was left was an occasional hitch in his breath.

Once he was certain that the child was calm enough to listen, Jun-wan began to speak.

"Uju-ah," he whispered. "Let's go get you a glass of water, alright?"

Minutely, the little boy nodded his assent from where his head was nestled in the crook of his uncle's neck.

With movements that spoke of practiced ease, Jun-wan hefted U-ju into one of his arms and stood - settling the child on his hip. U-ju didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around his guardian's neck, before settling his head on the older man's shoulder.

A trip to the kitchen and a glass of water later, Jun-wan returned to the sofa and settled his nephew back in his lap - but not before quickly grabbing something from his medical bag at the foot of the couch. The water, thankfully, helped get rid of the unpleasant hiccups, and helped settle U-ju's breathing.

A beat passed before the elder of the two spoke.

"Uju-ah," Jun-wan said, tone soft and gentle. He let the cadence of his voice settle lightly - letting his words flow, as if he were telling his nephew a story. "Did you know that I've spent so many years studying the heart?"

At his words, U-ju lifted his eyes to meet his uncle's, who quietly wiped away the tears on his cheeks. The sight of one of his favorite adults - bedraggled and rumpled as he was, haloed by the silver light of the moon with the kindest smile on his face - was enough to quiet the worst of U-ju's fears. Enough for him to be able to focus on his uncle's words, at least.

The young boy nodded minutely, so Jun-wan continued.

"It's my job to help people when their heart is having trouble - and one of the things I've learned and I've seen again and again, is that the heart-" he gently settled the tips of his fingers on U-ju's chest, and the little boy followed it with his gaze. Jun-wan smiled. "-the heart is stronger than you think, U-ju."

U-ju lifted his gaze to meet his uncle's, and Jun-wan could see the hope shining in his nephew's eyes. His own eyes softened, and he continued.

"You're young, U-ju - and I know your heart is in wonderful condition. As long as you take care of your heart - as long as you eat properly and exercise and avoid all of the bad things - then you can rely on your heart to be strong."

Ever so gently, Jun-wan took one of his nephew's hands and settled it on his chest, just over his own heart. U-ju was silent - enraptured - as he stared at his hand that was resting on the older man's chest. Not a second later, he felt his guardian's hand settle warmly over his own - pressing his fingers firmly into the fabric of his uncle's shirt.

It only took a moment before he felt it.

A heartbeat.

U-ju could feel it reverberate though his fingers - the steady thumping, strong and sure. It was here; it was real. Tangible, concrete, and indisputable proof of the heart's quiet strength.

U-ju couldn't help but sigh quietly in awe. Jun-wan's eyes softened.

"I'm much older than you are, U-ju," Jun-wan whispered, kind and gentle. "But my heart is still strong, isn't it? Can you feel it?"

U-ju nodded quietly.

Jun-wan smiled, before using his free hand to grab at what he had pulled from his medical bag when they had gotten U-ju his water. With practiced ease, Jun-wan settled his stethoscope into place - releasing his nephew's hand. U-ju's fingers found the stethoscope's diaphragm, and he inspected it with a quiet awe and curiosity. His uncle had shown him his stethoscope before - but it was only now that he began to realize the significance of the apparatus.

Jun-wan let his nephew examine the instrument for a few more moments before he spoke.

"U-ju-ah," he began. "If you're still worried and afraid about your heart, would you like me to check it for you?"

His offer was met by a ready nod from U-ju, who was more than glad to have another layer of reassurance.

U-ju watched as his guardian pressed the end of the stethoscope to his chest - listening intently. He couldn't help but smile at the sight of his uncle's visible focus; his appa had a similar 'doctor face' too.

He waited a few more moments as his guardian moved the stethoscope to different points on his body, before Jun-wan finally lowered the diaphragm and fixed U-ju with a smile.

"It sounds perfect, U-ju," he said - and before the little boy could blink, his uncle removed the stethoscope from his neck, and offered it to him.

His guardian's smile was as kind as his voice.

"Would you like to hear your heart for yourself, U-ju?"

It would not have been a stretch to say that U-ju was awed at the opportunity before him. Taking the stethoscope reverently in his hands, the young boy carefully positioned the tips of the instrument into his ears, and watched as Jun-wan pressed the diaphragm just above his heart.

In all his years on earth, U-ju had never heard something so extraordinary.

He hadn't expected the sound to be so strong. And oh, he could hear it; the lub-dub all of his children's books had talked about - now echoing in his own ears. He was wonderstruck; his fears fading in the face of his awe, leaving him infinitely lighter and calmer.

His uncle really did know just what to do to make everything less scary.

Gratitude filling him to the brim, U-ju moved his gaze from his chest to look at his guardian - and he was met with the softest expression he had ever seen on his uncle's face. There was so much affection - so much love that shone clearly in his eyes that U-ju suddenly found himself speechless at the enormity of it.

Jun-wan grinned at the wonder in the young boy's eyes, before raising an amused eyebrow in question.

"So what do you think, U-ju? Your heart sounds very strong, doesn't it?" he asked, to which his young charge nodded - the awe never fading from his eyes.

Jun-wan silently held his palm out, and U-ju - ever smart and perceptive - carefully removed the stethoscope from his ears and placed it in the doctor's waiting hand. The older man set the instrument aside, before fixing his gaze on his nephew - meeting the young boy's eyes.

He still had one last thing he wanted to say.

"Listen to me, alright, U-ju?" he began - his voice kind and warm, as it always was for his nephew. "There's no need to be scared. You can rely on your heart. As long as you take care of it, you can trust it to be strong. And no matter what happens, I will always be here to help."

With a quiet solemnity, he let the pads of his fingers rest on U-ju's chest.

"You can trust your heart, U-ju-"

He pressed his hand to his own chest; a promise.

"-And you can trust your daege samchon to protect it too."

For the third time that night, U-ju couldn't help the tears that rolled down his cheeks. But they were different tears now; the kind that felt like healing rather than hurt, and that washed the pain away with it.

And as he'd done countless times before, Jun-wan wiped the glittering tears from his nephew's face, with as much gentleness and affection as he could offer.

Once his uncle finished wiping the moisture from his cheeks, U-ju rushed forward to envelope the taller man in a hug - nestling his face in the crook of his neck. Jun-wan froze in surprise for a fraction of a second, before he heard a small voice whisper.

"Saranghaeyo daege samchon," U-ju said quietly, as he closed his eyes and hugged his uncle tighter.

Not a moment later, U-ju felt strong arms wrap gently around him - sheltering him in a warm embrace.

"Saranghaeyo uri U-ju."

And as a tranquil peace washed over the pair - each of their breaths coming easier than the last - U-ju allowed his uncle's steady heartbeat to lull him to sleep - quiet, safe, and secure.

—

If Ik-jun found the two of them asleep on the couch the next morning - Jun-wan hugging U-ju to his chest protectively as his son's tears finally dried on his cheeks - he certainly made no mention of it to his friend.

And if he refilled the snack drawer in Jun-wan's office after leaving him a bottle of his favorite coffee - well...

He certainly didn't mention that to him either.

—————

Author’s Note:

Hi everyone!! 😄

So this is my first contribution to the Hospital Playlist Fandom! 😄 This story was inspired by this tweet (https://bit.ly/3jHCJD2), and because U-ju and his Uncle Snow Crab deserve more moments together! ✨

This is my first time writing for any KDrama or KPop fandom, so I sincerely apologize if I got any of the terminologies wrong! Please feel free to point out any errors, and I’ll do my best to fix them! 😄 Also, I really apologize if any of the characters came off as OOC! I’m more than happy to hear any constructive criticism you might have (and I’d really appreciate it if you could phrase it as nicely as you can, if possible!) 😄

Lastly, all feedback is loved and appreciated! Please feel free to tell me which parts you liked, or how the writing can be improved!

That’s all! I hope you all have a wonderful day, and stay safe everyone! 😄✨

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alphabet-blues · 3 years

Photo

Here it is, chapter one of my baby, my magnum opus. This fic is going to be so long so I hope you guys are buckled up and ready. Each chapter also is accompanied by a literature/media excerpt and five song mini-mix as a YouTube playlist. - Venom

Read on Ao3

Title: drowning lessons

Pairing: Harley Keener/Peter Parker

Fandom: Spider-Man (Tom Holland), and MCU

Chapter: One

Rating: Explicit

Content Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Tags: Angst, Depression, References to Depression, References to Drugs, Graphic Drug usage, Addiction, Graphic Usage of Opioids, Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, brief mentions of forced prostitution, Suicidal Ideation, Suicidal Thoughts, drug overdose, Graphic Depiction of a Drug Overdose, Getting Together, Fluff, Banter, The Euphoria Fic, Blowjobs, Alternate Universe - College/University, Drug Addict Harley, Aged-Up Harley Keener, Aged-Up Peter Parker, Drowning Lessons, Falling In Love, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags Are Hard, Tony Stark Acting as Harley Keener's Parental Figure, Harley Keener Needs a Hug, Underage Drinking, Partying, Purchasing of Drugs, Harley's Nirvana Hoodie is a character

Summary: It all started with a house party and a bad idea, like most things in Harley’s life.

In which Harley takes pills, listens to Nirvana, and doesn't want to be alive anymore.

Falling for Peter is easier than breathing, and also the least of his problems.

(Also known as the Parkner Euphoria Fic)

Mini-Mix 1 for Chapter 1

The Pool Players. Seven at the Golden Shovel.

We real cool. We Left school. We

Lurk late. We Strike straight. We

Sing sin. We Thin gin. We

Jazz June. We Die soon.

- Gwendolyn Brooks

It all started with a house party and a bad idea, like most things in Harley’s life.

He was 14, and it was his first party. Well, not his first party, but his first party with actual high schoolers that involved booze that wasn’t snuck out from a parent’s meticulous liquor cabinet. Harley though, didn’t have much of a taste for alcohol.

The smell of beer on people’s clothes was tainted by memories of his Father. He’d had his first beer when he was 10, given to him by his Uncle with strict orders not to tell his Mother. It was bitter, rancid, and burned as it went down and Harley couldn’t understand how people loved this stuff. Or how his Father had chosen this over their family.

The party was a little ways out from the main road and tucked behind a line of trees that led to a few rolling fields of corn. It was October, and there was a slight chill in the air. The corn had been combined at the end of summer, leaving a desecrated patch of land in its wake. By the time next summer rolled around, there would be stalks nearly as tall as Harley. He was fascinated by the cycle of it all.

Technically, there wasn’t supposed to be any freshman at the party, but he had weaseled an invite from his friend Joey’s older brother, Mike, as long as he followed his strict orders to “be cool.” Harley could do that.

When Harley made his way into the house he watched the different crowds of upperclassmen interact. Some were dancing to the loud thumping of the music playing from the speakers by the TV in the living room, while others were huddled into tight groups, either drinking, or passing a joint around. An ache settled inside Harley’s chest.

Harley committed to his role of being a wallflower and held back from all of the groups as he made his way through the house. He had sat on the couch for close to a half-hour when someone passed him a joint and told him to take a hit. Harley did, and was careful not to choke so he didn’t look green at his first-ever real party.

The joint in question got passed around their circle a few more times until someone put it out. At that point, Harley had taken several puffs and was starting to feel light-headed and fuzzy, but in a good way.

The ache in his chest morphed - it spread warmth over Harley’s ribs and clavicle, but it still burned.

Harley floated through the house afterwards, giggling at nothing, and took whatever was offered. He drank something bitter and sour that made him want to hurl before he was passed something sickly sweet but felt like acid as it washed down. When he finally stumbled out of the house he felt a happy buzz wash over him. He could barely feel the cold nip of the air, and goosebumps raised all up along his arms.

He found his bike where he had discarded it on the grass lawn when he arrived. It was hard to see in the dark, especially with his head swimming, but he managed to pull his bike onto the road. The wind of the night air blew through his shaggy overgrown hair as it fell in his eyes. He biked down the eerily quiet streets of his hometown as the persistent aching in his chest eventually subsided, for the first time since it had arrived. No one was around, and his ears were filled with static due to the lack of sound - a sharp contrast from the thudding bass of the party.

He fell off his bike twice before he got home, and winced as his elbow got scratched up from the gravel. But instead of being frightened, he was elated, he couldn't really feel it. He snuck back into his room through the window he kept unlocked for that exact purpose, and made sure to be as quiet as possible, even though the motor functions in his hand were failing him and it took him multiple tries to get his window up.

He changed his clothes, noting how they smelled, and buried them deep into the bottom of his hamper so his Mom wouldn’t get suspicious. When he finally collapsed onto his bed he felt sated. He was warm, and the rocking of his bed from his head spinning as he closed his eyes lulled him to sleep.

It was probably the best sleep he’d gotten in years.

That was the start, but it wasn’t the beginning.

The beginning was not quite a year later, at the start of summer break. He was invited to a pool party by Mike’s friends. As soon as the sun went down they all changed out of their bathing suits and into t-shirts, and shorts. They relocated to Maddy’s basement - the girl who had been throwing the party. Harley was expecting the alcohol, and the weed. He’d gotten used to it by now, and even knew how to roll one of the best joints in town. He kept a stash in a sealed bag buried deep inside his nightstand that he would pull out and smoke in the backyard by the shed whenever things got overwhelming. Or, for when that well-known emptiness crept into his veins, that instead of making him angry, just made him sad, and desolate.

He was used to the weed, but the pills were something new. He was halfway through a joint that he had matched with a girl he vaguely recognized. She had introduced herself as “Tasha” when one of Mike’s friends stumbled over and sat down next to him. Harley passed the joint over to Tasha. His head was swimming pleasantly, and he grinned over at the guy who he was pretty sure was named Toby.

“Look what Jessica’s sister brought,” Toby said excitedly as he held up a baggy with a bunch of tiny perfectly round blue pills. “She’s like the fucking tooth fairy, I swear to God,” He crowed as he handed a pill to Harley and one to Tasha. Tasha glanced over at Harley nervously, and Harley didn’t say anything until Toby left, probably to go distribute the pills to the other partygoers.

Harley looked down at the pill he had clutched in his palm. It had a ‘5’ etched big in the center, with a smaller ‘325’ carved under it. Harley recognized the pills from health class. It was percocet.

Tasha finished the joint and then stubbed it out on a spare plate that everyone had been using as a makeshift ashtray. “I’m gonna go see what Josh is up to,” She told Harley in a small voice before handing him the pill she had been given. “I’m good with just weed.”

Harley nodded dumbly as he watched her scamper off. He took in the scene of the party going on around him as he stared at the now two pills in his hand. It felt like an old cartoon where there was an angel and devil sitting on his shoulder arguing over what he should do. He stared at it for entirely too long before he said, “Fuck it,” and swallowed one down dry. He tucked the other one into his weed grinder for safekeeping, figuring that even if he hated how it made him feel he could probably sell it to someone at school for a couple of dollars.

The next twenty minutes passed slowly as he waited anxiously for it to kick in, to see how it would feel. He didn’t feel anything for the first while and was gonna accuse Jessica’s sister of being an idiot and buying counterfeit pills when it started washing over him in waves. He went out to the back deck where the pool was, and where it was relatively empty. He sat down on the edge as his eyes went half-massed, and the ribbons of euphoria made their way through his bloodstream.

For a blissful while he didn’t feel anything. Nothing at all. He laid out flat, head facing the water, and started swirling circles in it with his pointer finger. He watched for what felt like hours as his finger caused ripples in the pool.

It wasn’t until later, much later, when Joey was helping him into his house quietly, because he was too fucked up to stand, that he pulled the grinder out of his pocket. He opened it once Joey had gone home and looked at the little pill inside of it. Harley didn’t understand alcohol, but he understood this. He would do anything to feel nothing again.

It wasn’t an all-or-nothing type beat, at least in the beginning. It was more gradual. As the low simmer of Harley’s misery built so did his coping mechanisms. It wasn’t until right after he turned 16 that he was sneaking out to parties every single weekend, coming back high, drunk, or sometimes something worse.

He bought from Jessica’s sister for a while until she left town. Then, he bounced around various dealers getting wildly different qualities. He tried a little bit of everything, and never turned down a pill if it was offered. He passed out in so many different basements he lost track. He could tell that his Mom was catching on to his worsening attitude and sunken eyes. Hell, even he had noticed the weight he had lost and how he was able to count most of his ribs without sucking in anymore. None of that mattered. All that mattered was how he could get rid of the emptiness inside of him, even if it was just for a night, or however long the drugs in his system lasted.

He got a job bagging groceries at the mini-mart downtown. Most of the people that he worked with were college burnouts who sold and did drugs whenever they weren’t showing up for a shift. He bought baggies of pills in the parking lot whenever he got off work with the money he made from his minimum wage. He knew that he couldn’t keep up the delicate balance forever, and eventually there would be a tipping of the scales.

It was a month before his 17th birthday when he ran out of money.

He needed a fix so bad that his hands were shaking and he could barely see straight. He had nearly crashed his bike 10 times on his way over to Tyler’s apartment. He wasn’t the best of dudes, but his shit was always pure, and Harley knew he could deliver.

Once Harley climbed up the steps he walked along the railing until he got to the door that led to Tyler’s apartment. He rang the doorbell as he fidgeted with his hoodie and dug his fingers into his palm so hard he nearly drew blood. When Tyler opened the door he followed him inside, chewing on his lip.

Tyler went back to his room as Harley waited anxiously in the foyer. He didn’t have any money, and he didn’t know what he was going to do. All he knew was that he needed another pill. He needed everything to stop. He bit his thumb as he waited for Tyler to come back out. After a few tense moments, Tyler came back out with a baggy full of familiar pills. He sat them down on the coffee table and glanced at Harley expectantly.

“I can pay you back next Friday. That’s when I get paid,” Harley told him, his tongue feeling thick in his mouth.

Tyler sucked on his teeth and grabbed the pills back up, before Harley had a chance to reach for them. “You still owe me for last time.”

Harley’s stomach dropped. “Right. I know that. Just- ... I can pay you back next week.”

Tyler shook his head. “And what’s in it for me?”

Harley’s eyes widened as he took in the setting of what was going on. “W-what do you mean?”

Tyler shrugged. “How bad do you want ‘em, kid?”

Harley bristled, and brought the sleeves of his hoodie down to hide his hands. He wanted to hide from the situation completely, but knew he’d be right back here tomorrow if he didn’t leave with the pills that he needed. “What do you want?”

“I heard you gave Colson head at the bonfire party a few months ago,” Tyler said, as Harley’s face burned. “You any good?”

Harley counted to 10 in his head. He thought about a lot of things in the time it took for him to count. He thought about his Mom, his Dad, and his sister. He thought about his one English teacher from the previous year who always had an absurd amount of faith in him and told him that he was capable of great things if he just put his mind to it. He thought briefly about Tony and his billions of dollars while here he was broke as shit and questioning his morals. He thought about Colson, who he’d had a crush on for a couple of months, who let him blow him at a party and then told him afterwards that he wasn’t gay, and that they probably shouldn’t do it again. Lastly, he thought about how shaky his hands were and how all of this would be over as soon as he got his hand on the pills. There were five in the baggy. If he paced himself he could last until next Friday when he got paid and he would never have to do this again.

With that resolve in mind, he closed his eyes and dropped to his knees.

| | |

When he left Tyler’s apartment he couldn’t stop wiping at his mouth, and how it felt dirty and raw. He got halfway down the street before he let his bike fall to the ground and bent over to wretch into the grass on the side of the road. He didn’t have much in his system so it was mostly just bile, but anything, literally anything, was better than the lingering taste of Tyler’s cum in his mouth that only served to remind him what he had let him do.

Once he gathered his wits back up, he was able to make it to the 7-Eleven that was only a few blocks away from his house. He parked his bike in the bike rack outside half in a daze, feeling like he was no longer inside his body. He went into the bathroom with his hood up, and made sure nobody else was inside. He wiped down the edge of the sink with soap, and dried it meticulously with the thin paper towels from the machine. He took one of the pills out of the baggie and smashed it until it was basically powder. He spread it with his finger into a line on the edge of the sink and snorted all of it in one go.

As soon as he did he felt the immediate head rush and stinging pain in his nasal cavity that made his eyes burn and well up with tears. He grabbed onto the sink for dear life as he took several deep breaths. He looked up and finally made eye contact with himself in the mirror. His hair was a messy tangle, and greasy, on top of his head. His eyes were bloodshot, and his nose was red, as well as his mouth, which looked rubbed raw. In a certain light, it could have been enticing, but Harley knew that he just really looked wrung out.

He glared at his reflection in the mirror until someone else walked into the bathroom. Harley froze in place and waited till the guy took his position at one of the far down urinals. “Whatever,” he whispered to his reflection as he turned around and left the bathroom, wiping at his nose with the bottom of his hoodie sleeve. The moment he reached his bike he felt it start to kick in and he breathed out a sigh of relief as the telltale rush he had gotten used to spread from his head down his shoulders, all the way to his toes as his chest flooded with warmth.

He just had to make it until next Friday, and then everything was going to be okay.

| | |

The thing was, Harley was a pretty angry person. He wasn’t angry all the time, but the slightest thing could set him off. He had a temper like his Dad, and it was always hard to stop himself from doing something rash, or impulsive. His Mom liked to say that he thought with his fists before his head. His anger was more like a low simmer, on a backburner constantly until something set him off and he snapped. It had only gotten worse since he started the pills, but so had everything in his life. He knew he had a problem, but that didn’t mean he wanted to stop.

Harley had been getting into fights at school for almost as long as he could remember. There was a day in elementary school where he had to wait outside the principal's office with a split lip and torn-up knuckles. He could hear his Mom crying through the door, he could hear her saying how tough it had been since Harley’s Dad had left and it made him feel awful. But, it also kind of just made him want to punch stuff more.

Kids at school were mean, but all kids who are growing are mean, and seem to have endless bouts of nasty shit to say. They picked on Harley because he was weird, and nerdy, and his Dad had left. There wasn’t even a divorce like some of the other kids in his class. He didn’t have elusive tales of two Christmases, or weekends at his Dad’s - all he eventually got was Tony Stark showing up in his garage when he was 9, before he fucked off just like everybody else. Sure, he had decked out his garage, but that didn’t mean much. Tony was a fucking billionaire, it was probably the equivalent of him giving a homeless kid on the street a 5 dollar bill.

Harley got better at learning how to deal with his anger. He also got better at not getting punched, and throwing his own. He learned how to hide bloody knuckles, or bloody noses, and only got pulled into the office a handful of times. They made him go to the school counselor and she said it was a coping mechanism; that the violence was a way for him to act out and ask for attention. Harley thought she was mostly a quack who didn’t actually give a shit about the kids she was supposed to be helping. The fighting had been self-defense, but the pills? He could admit that those were probably the coping mechanism.

Harley thought about his school counselor as he locked the door to his room and threw the baggy of pills that he had worked so hard for into his nightstand, under a pile of books he was supposed to be reading for class and knew he never would. He wondered what she would think of him now, or what he had done. He laughed mirthlessly at the picture of her horrified face as he told her that the school system had failed him, just like his Dad, and just like everybody fucking else.

Despite everything, his grades were good. Harley was smart. He knew he was smart, and that was half of his problem. He stopped having to try in school after the second week of 6th grade. He always showed up, and always finished his work though, even if he was working on his projects high out of his fucking mind. He usually wrote his best papers that way.

Sometimes, not often, but sometimes, he thought about his Dad. He thought about what his Dad would say to him and his pills. Maybe an outsider would draw parallels to him and his Father, from one addict to another. He wasn’t anything like his Father, though. Yeah, Harley had a problem, but he was still here, still doing the shit he was supposed to be doing. He was still a functioning member of society as far as he was concerned and hadn’t ran away as soon as things had gotten tough. His Father was a coward and that’s all he’d ever be.

Sometimes though, sometimes, in the dead of night when he was shaking and sweating from either a comedown, or withdrawal, he would try to discern if his Dad would be sad, if he even gave a shit at all. He wondered if he would be disappointed.

Whenever those thoughts took hold he would just text one of his friends to see if a party was going on, and there usually was. He’d smoke a joint, or take a pill that was offered and suddenly he’d forget all about the thoughts that had previously been consuming him.

But the thing about all of his anger is that he would gladly take it over the sadness. There was a hole inside of him. He wasn’t quite sure when it formed, but it was there. It threatened to consume him whole on nights he was alone and could only stare at the popcorn ceiling of his bedroom. The only time when he didn’t feel empty was when he had some chemical pumping through his veins. So that became his thing.

He couldn’t ignore though, how it was hurting everyone he loved. Abbie and his Mom never said anything, but sometimes it was like they knew. They would give him a look with their sad eyes like they wanted to help him, like they somehow had the capability to heal him. When he came home on certain nights, pupils blown and speech slurred, his Mom would look at him like he was his Father.

Maybe he was slowly becoming his Father.

Either way, it hurt, and he couldn’t stop. The only thing that didn’t hurt anymore was the dizzying rush he got whenever he snorted the pills that he had come to love so much.

There was one night that Harley could remember. He had slammed his bike on the front porch a little hard, and had made a little too much noise coming in through the window of his bedroom. He was high as shit and the world was thick, but buzzing around him. He changed out of his jeans into an undershirt, his hands fumbling and not working right, like they were no longer connected to his brain. When he finally finished his task he stumbled out into the hallway to go to the bathroom before he could pass out for school in the morning.

As soon as he got to the door of the bathroom he could hear his Mom talking in the living room, and he froze. Her voice was muffled, but he could still make out what she was saying. It sounded like she was on the phone with someone, which wouldn’t be an unusual occurrence for her, especially at this time of the night. It always made Harley smile whenever he would come home and she would be gabbing excitedly with one of her girlfriends, or spilling town gossip. This time, however, Harley could tell she wasn’t chatting with her friends.

“He’s just been so withdrawn. I know he sneaks out of the house almost every night and I don’t know if I should let him have his freedom or be concerned.” Harley heard her say, her voice sapped, and weary. “He’s so bright. You know that. I’m worried that’s going to be what gets him.” She paused for a while, so someone else on the phone must have said something. Harley took that time to let his head fall against the door of the bathroom.

Harley had a feeling the conversation was about him and it made him sick. His fuzzy brain was taking in all the words she was saying and knew that he didn’t want her to feel that way. He didn’t want her to worry. But he also couldn’t stop. His brain was whirring all the time and the only thing that ever gave him peace; a fucking reprieve, stopped the voice in his head - the one that sounded like his Father, the one that told him he was a waste of space, that he was nothing - were the pills that he took, or snorted, whichever was easier, or quicker, really. At least when he was high he was a good nothing.

“No, I know. And he’s so good sometimes. He’ll be happy and chatty, and he’s always been so good with Abbie...it could just be a teenager thing. Sometimes I’m just at a loss. I know he needs something, but I don’t know what that is.”

The world to stop turning, Harley thought, with a sudden flash of vengeance. If there was one thing he could write on his Christmas list it would be for the world to stop turning, and for him to stop breathing. But that would definitely cause his Mom more concern and he didn’t want that.

He didn’t want to listen to the conversation anymore, so he made sure to open the bathroom door obviously, and took a few stomping steps inside, hitting his hand on the counter in the process, that way she would be alerted to his presence in the hallway.

He couldn’t make out her voice after that.

Harley stared at his face in the mirror. He took in his red eyes, pupils swallowing his irises, skin pale and sickly. At one point he might have been something to look at, with sweeping blonde hair, and a crooked grin that his Mom used to always pinch and say was her favorite.

He didn’t look like that anymore.

He didn’t even look like himself anymore. His outside finally matched his inside - a hollow shell of someone pretending to be a person.

When he got out of the bathroom his Mom was no longer on the phone, and he couldn’t pretend to be anything other than absolutely exhausted, so he shuffled into his room and fell back onto his bed. He played the words she had said on the phone call over and over again in his head until he fell asleep.

| | |

Harley was smart, brilliant, actually, that was the thing. School was a breeze, but he knew that even though he kept his grades up, every time he snuck back in through his bedroom window his Mom was disappointed in him. He knew that she had no idea what he was doing, but she also wasn’t stupid, and somehow knew he was close to doing something that would throw his life away.

If only she knew that this was the only way he could keep on living. If only she knew he probably would have slit his wrists in the bathroom if those tiny little blue pills hadn’t kept him company, and drove away all the malicious clawing thoughts that flickered through his brain constantly.

Harley had an affinity for building things. He also had an affinity for hacking, which would have been worrisome if he wasn’t good enough to hardly ever get caught. After he burned his bridges with Tyler he started exploring his other options. Hacking into the local hospital’s database was so easy it was almost laughable.

He quickly learned it was going to be a dead-end because they kept all their opioids in a Pill-O-Matix which was an automatic drug dispenser that used doctors’ credentials to unlock it. Even if Harley could somehow bypass it he would have to disable the security cams, and it wasn’t something he could do on a regular basis. It wasn’t worth it.

After that, he did some digging into his local pharmacy, but that was mostly a dead end as well. Their computer systems were out of date, but most of their pill tracking was manual, as it was a tiny small-town pharmacy. If any of their opioids went missing they would surely be noticed.

So Harley started bouncing around dealers again. He knew it was dangerous. But the hole inside of him was just as, if not more dangerous, so he knew what he had to do. He got shitty pills from freshmen with older siblings that dealt; who didn’t know the worth of what they were selling. On one occasion he got a set of pills of oxy that were cut with speed that made his heart race and he felt like he was having a low-grade heart attack for hours.

He didn’t want to be this way - a junkie. But he found something that worked when nothing else had. He could feel himself getting worse and worse and knew rock bottom was just around the corner. But he couldn’t stop. He didn’t know if it was a sick desire to actually hit rock bottom and to see what that felt like, or if his own self-control had finally waned to a point of no return.

It all came to a head a week before his high school graduation.

Graduation parties were popping up all over the place, and Harley wasn’t about to miss any of them. It wasn’t so much that he wanted to see his friends (friends that he could barely even call friends anymore because he didn’t really talk to anyone who wasn’t going to eventually sell him drugs).

It wasn’t even that he wanted to have a nostalgic cry fest with all the people who had tortured him his entire adolescence. He just wanted to get as smashed as possible so he could forget everything. Then he wouldn’t have to think about college, which he couldn’t afford, or all of the stress that came with being on the cusp of adulthood.

He could tell that something was off as soon as he took the first pill. He got high quicker than usual, and he also felt higher than what was normal. He relished the buzz, every second of it, and used his impairment as an excuse as to why he took another one, and another one once it was offered. He was never one to turn down free drugs. By the time the third one kicked in he could barely walk outside. He must have fallen on the grass lawn because one minute he was looking at the driveway that led to the house, and the next minute he was blinking up at the night sky.

He didn’t even realize that he was puking until someone was rolling him over with a bruising grip on his arms and back. The bile that had been clogging his throat rose and fell out of his mouth as he heaved and heaved. He puked into the grass for what felt like ages until he tried to focus his eyes and could only make out a vague blob of a person standing over him.

“Fuck, Harley,” he could hear the voice saying, but it was distant. It sounded like they were crying, but he couldn’t figure out why they would be crying. Harley opened his mouth to speak but when he did he only choked on bile once again until he was forced to spit it out in the grass.

A loud ringing was in his ears and all the talking he could hear was muffled and unintelligible. He started shivering violently and couldn’t stop. The hand that was holding him reached for something in the pocket of his jeans but Harley could barely feel it. He came back to himself enough to glance over with glassy eyes and recognized the person as Joey. Fuck. He shouldn’t be seeing him like this.

Joey had a phone pressed to his ear, and Harley tried to piece all the details together to figure out what was going on but it was hard to think. All he could feel was the sudden pounding in his head and how his whole body ached in a way that made him feel like he had just been run over by a semi.

It could’ve been hours later, or only a few minutes, time was passing weird for Harley. But suddenly he was seeing his Mom. She was pale as a ghost as her face floated in front of him, blocking his view of the night sky. “Mom?” Harley said, not quite believing what was in front of him. Just saying those words scratched against his raw throat and suddenly Harley was so, so tired. All he wanted to do was go to sleep and never wake up.

“Harley, baby.” His Mom said, her cool hands pressed against his face. He was burning up. When did that happen? “What did you take? We need to know what you took.”

“I didn’t take anything,” Harley mumbled out, his words barely coming out as sounds or words. His Mom must have understood because her face turned thunderous.

“What did you take!” She yelled, her voice turning shrill as she screamed. Harley winced and his eyes fell shut until someone was shaking him, causing him to blearily open his eyes again. His Mom and Joey were like little pale-faced moons over his head as he could hardly make out the details of their faces, or why they were looking at him like that, or why they were so concerned. Couldn’t Harley just go to sleep?

“...hospital,” He heard his Mom say distantly. Then jerkily he was being pulled up by two pairs of hands until he was upright. The movement jostled him and his head fell back painfully like a rag doll. The sudden motion caused him to start puking again, and he bent over and heaved on an empty stomach which only made his throat feel like it had been hacked at with razor blades. Every inch of his body hurt.

He didn’t realize he had been put into a car until he was laying in the backseat while Joey held his head, probably to make sure he didn’t choke on his own vomit again. This was one of his worst nightmares. He could hardly think but suddenly he was stuck in a spiral of guilt so strong that it choked him even further. He could taste the bile he had been throwing up all over his mouth and tongue, and could hear his Mom crying from the front seat.

He was so sorry.

Nobody should be seeing him like this. All he wanted was to go home and pretend like none of this was even happening.

“I’m sorry,” Harley said, even though it was hard for him to talk. He wasn’t sure if he was talking to his Mom, Joey, or possibly both. “I’m sorry,” he kept saying in between the tears that were rolling down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”

That was the last thing he remembered before he fell asleep.

| | |

When Harley woke up he was in a brightly lit hospital, and was lying in a bed. He had various wires hooked to his arms and he felt like death warmed over. Once he was able to blink through the blinding lights and focus on the room he noticed Abbie and Mom, both sound asleep in their own respective guest chairs. A lump formed in his throat as it settled in his bones what had happened.

| | |

After his Mom woke up they fought for what felt like hours. Eventually, it led to her crying as she said she didn’t know what to do. The pills Harley had taken at the party had been laced with fentanyl, and they had caused him to OD. The doctors had told her that he showed signs of having a long-term opioid addiction and would have to go through detox before he would be released. Harley had denied it vehemently until his Mom had told him to cut the bullshit.

In the time that it had taken him to recover he had missed graduation, and hadn’t been able to walk across the stage like the rest of his classmates. Harley pretended that it didn’t sting.

It was clear that his Mother didn’t know what to do with him, and Harley didn’t know what hurt worse, the fact that she looked at him differently now, or the fact that he had hurt her so deeply. It wasn’t until he went through the detox with gritted teeth and false promises that he would stay clean that he knew nobody really believed, that he was able to go home.

When Harley got to his room, he stopped short in the doorway and stared. All of his stuff had been packed up into bags that were sitting on his bed. He turned to look at his Mom, who was only a few feet behind him, with betrayal and fear. Was she kicking him out?

Instead of answering him right away, her eyes trained on a picture that was hung up in the hallway, just a little ways down from the entryway to Harley’s bedroom. It was a baby picture of him. His blonde hair was platinum then, but still tangled at the top of his head like a bird's nest, and he had a wide smile on his face that was completely toothless and all gums. He could see the tears welling in his Mom’s eyes as she turned back to face him.

“When you first mentioned that you wanted to take a gap year I got in touch with Tony. He gave me his number years ago and said to call if we ever needed him. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if the number was still going to work. I thought it might do you good to go and see him.” Her voice trembled then, “Lord knows he has more resources than I do.” A tear trickled down her cheek, but she continued. “I know you’re not happy here, baby. You haven’t been happy for a while, and I don’t...I don’t know what to do.”

Harley tried to let her words sink in, but they weren’t making any sense. “Since when does Tony give a shit about me?”

“Oh sweetie,” His Mom said, eyes sad. “He’s always been keeping tabs on you. He wants what’s best for you.” She seemed to gather herself together then, and her voice was less wobbly when she said, “I think a change of scenery will do you good. You have a flight to New York tomorrow morning, so you should probably get some rest.”

Harley balled his hands into fists at his sides and glared at the bags that had been packed for him. He was a problem who was being shipped off to New York because his Mom no longer knew how to handle him. He wasn’t sure what Tony fucking Stark was going to be able to do for him. The fact that he had been keeping up with Harley and how he was doing hit him as a shock because he genuinely thought that the man had forgotten about him, or at least, didn’t care for him anymore. He didn’t know how to handle the information that not only did Tony in fact care about him, but cared about him enough to open his home to him and want to help him.

“And what if I don’t want to go to New York?” Harley tested, because he always had to push.

His Mom only pursed her lips sadly. “It’s not negotiable.” She closed his door then, he guessed to give him a semblance of privacy. Not like it mattered, he was sure his room had been cleaned of all his stashes, and all his shit was packed up anyway.

Harley punched his pillow repeatedly, and screamed into it a few times before he ended up curled up in his bed and staring unblinkingly at the wall. If he was miserable in Tennessee he doubted New York was going to be much better.

Thanks for reading! This fic means so much to me and I can’t wait to hear the response to it, and post more :)

#Parkner #Drowning Lessons #Fic #Chapter One #Parkner Euphoria Fic #Graphic Drug Usage #Harley Keener #Peter Parker #Keenker #Parley #Harley/Peter #Harley Keener/Peter Parker

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hellonoblesky · 3 years

Text

School got me worn out so here's my team dynamic HCs

It's Kaeya, Xingqiu, Diluc, and Ayaka atm hngjfhgdjfg

Kaeya

This man is so tired, Archons please let him rest

Has to pick up his week's paperwork from Jean every Monday when we go to Mondstadt to buy food supplies and stuff before fighting Andrius, gets to work on it while Diluc and the Andrius team go at it

Actually is the person who keeps the whole party safe, has pulled Xingqiu away from ledges while he's reading more times than he can count, makes sure everyone has food at all times, and keeps the schedule in line

Has a flask of Death After Noon that he keeps on him, has to actively keep it away from Xingqiu because the kid's curious

He is so tired he is the reason the party only gets up to leave at like noon because he sleeps in

Thinks he's good enough at hiding his anxiety that no one else has noticed

He is not, they've all noticed him shaking visibly at high speeds in 90-degree weather and the kids will do their best to avoid fraying his nerves on a bad day

Very kind to Xingqiu and Ayaka, kinda like a cool uncle? Buys them things even though they can afford it

Kinda lets the kids do what they want and chat while he keeps them safe and the whole party on their way

Absolute tank, balances his skillset out so he can manage most threats alone, no one has to get hurt, they can just travel, it's fine it's fine

Pretends to casually bring up stuff the kids want to do (after meticulously making sure the party would be in the right place at the right time)

"Xingqiu, we have time to kill, care to show us to the Wanwen Bookhouse? We can see if they have the next issue in that book series you're always reading! :)"

"Ayaka, you wanted to try some Liyuen cuisine, didn't you? We have a dear friend who just so happens to be a chef at Wanmin Restaurant! And since we're in Liyue anyway, we should swing by, shouldn't we?"

He tries his best to find something Diluc wouldn't mind doing too! Usually, Diluc turns him down but Kaeya has scored on occasion!

"C'mon Diluc, you can't have lost all your taste for reading, right? I hear Inazuma has some interesting books nowadays, what with all the isolation..."

Basically, he just tries his best and is so tired please let him rest

Diluc

This man is angry all the time but he doesn't mean to be. He's just unnerved because he's basically back to hunting Fatui in other nations. He just isn't alone this time and the Fatui aren't the focus

He's so annoyed that they don't leave until Kaeya wakes up, actively in denial about the fact that he himself wakes up only an hour earlier and everyone else is waiting for much longer

Runs right into danger all the time please someone tell this man to calm down he is the reason they need so much food

Does and takes a whole lot of damage at the same time and it stresses Kaeya out so much

Was not Pleased to find out he'd be stuck traveling with Kaeya, puts up with it because he can't bring himself to turn down the Traveler's request. Because in his eyes they're just a kid trying to find their family and he really can't turn down their plea for help in

Gets along surprisingly well with Xingqiu, they both enjoy reading, and often recommend books to each other! Diluc has no idea Xingqiu wrote Legend of a Sword, but the only reason for that is that he literally forgot the book name

"Hmm... in Mondstadt we have this book, The Fox and the Dandelion Sea? For a traditional Mondstadt fairytale, it does remind me of Inazuma, funnily enough. There are versions of the book that are watered down for younger children, but if you have the time I'd recommend the full novelization."

"Tales From the Waves? No, I haven't read that. Is it good?" ... "A novelization of an old ship captain's life? That does sound interesting... I'll pick up a copy when I can"

Gets along well with Ayaka as well, they both appreciate the arts and such so they talk about that

"In Mondstadt we don't have nearly as many festivals as they do in Inazuma... but when we do they're quite the occasion, and very dear to people's hearts. There would be rioting in the streets if the Windblume Festival was postponed..."

"Oh Mond has its fair share of dance traditions, but they fell to be a staple of the Lawrence rule, so not many traditional dances remain... although if you wish to learn more about them you could ask Kaeya to introduce you to the Knight's Recconacance Captain. She doesn't like me very much"

Is the one person who actually doesn't realize that Kaeya is anxious All The Time, literally could watch him shake uncontrollably as Venti walks by and think it was his Vision acting up, he has all the pieces to put the puzzle together but has lost interest in it

Xingqiu

Top ten reasons the party gets sidetracked, number one: Xingqiu finding a book and getting so into it that he doesn't notice people

Actually besties with Ayaka he thinks she's really cool!

Top ten reasons why Kaeya actually gets to sleep as long as he does, number one: Xingqiu jumping up and yanking Diluc's hair when he tries to wake him up

"You're 22 you can go get breakfast by yourself, my leige"

Infodumps about his books to the whole party while they're eating dinner regardless of if they're listening or not (they are, they always are)

Pulls out relevant trivia out of nowhere?? Like they'll be stuck in some ruins and Xingqiu just

"Hey, you know this specific style of ruins are known to be built with metal hatches that always lead to escape routes :)"

Or like

"Oh yeah, the coloration in the animals is different here because the plants in Inazuma so often have purple and blue pigmentation, and Inazuma is so naturally isolated, that the animals adapted to get their pigments partially from the foliage!"

And no one knows how or why he knows this much but he Does??

Also, knows everyone's favorite bird for some reason and talks about them, why? Idk I think he'd like birds!!

"A peacock? Oh, I've never even seen one of those! I hear they're lovely, but a little noisy. Sometimes we get feathers imported for design reference at the Feyun Commerce Guild though!"

"Umbertail Falcon, right? Ohh I hear they can be very loyal, right? Ahh, so that's why yours flys down to check in on you? That's lovely! Owls? Oh yeah, those are cool birds, you know their feathers are fanned out just right so they're entirely silent while flying!"

"Herons? Oh yeah, that's what your title is, right? Graceful... I think they're more stealthy, very good at waiting to strike. That's how they hunt, you know? Just being patient and stealthy, then striking. That's also why they're so graceful standing there all the time!"

Bummed that he's the only person in the party without a bird as his constellation tbh, but he's alright with it because he's got books!!

Mentioned Albedo and Kaeya almost choked on his food, Xingqiu thought this was hilarious

Routinely plays pranks on Diluc and occasionally manages to pull a deez joke on Kaeya, leaves Ayaka alone with the pranks though because he knows she's new to all of this

Ayaka

Oh this poor girl, Lumine just dropped her off with Mondstadt's most dysfunctional siblings and a kid who reads at the speed of light and said have fun

Really gets along well with Xingqiu!! Having someone with a somewhat similar background is definitely a relief, especially because Kaeya and Diluc intimidate her, what with them arguing most of the time they interact

She recognizes the anxiety in Kaeya (because she also has it) so she's a little more comfortable approaching him because of that

She's happy to talk about Inazuma's ruins and is fascinated by Kaeya bringing up similar ruins in Mondstadt and Liyue

She really appreciates him remembering what she's interested in and making time in the day for it!

Diluc on the other hand?? She has... some idea how to talk to him? But?? He is either aggressive or glaring off into the distance at all times, and she's been around long enough to know that he doesn't mean to be like that but it's still unnerving to her

However, she Can talk to him! She is still a little confused because he constantly sounds so grumpy, but she's realized that he's actually really good at listening, and is absolutely willing to talk about Mondstadt traditions! Because she does really like to learn about other nations

Plus, she can go to Xingqiu to answer most of her questions!

"Xingqiu, I- I hope this isn't an odd question, but ah... how exactly do you get used to Kaeya and Diluc? I don't think I've quite figured it out yet..?"

"So in Liyue... the Merchant stalls are on the docks? Like Ritou but it's all on the docks? Interesting..."

"You're the second born of the Feyun Commerce Guild? Oh! Forgive me, I thought you were the eldest, my brother handles most international relations..."

It was really hard for her to adjust to the team, just because of how ragtag it is most of the time, but she's got it by now!

She actually kind of likes the scrappy chaos! She hasn't completely gotten used to it all but she finds it like kind of a break from having to uphold her image at all times

Top five Ayaka quotes and who she said them to:

"They fight a wolf ghost every week...?? Are they ok??" (To Kaeya, about the Andrius team)

"So this is Morax's old... dragon friend...??" (To Xingqiu)

"Wait, you do this every week?" (To Diluc, about the domains)

"Oh!! Oh it is spicy!!!" (To Xingqiu, about Xiangling's cooking)

"Ah... OH! Yes um I uh- *gay hand flip* ?? Is that right??" (Xingqiu was talking about Chongyun)

Also the party went to Dragonspine and Ayaka was actually really interested in Durin because she didn't know that other nations also had odd giant dragon skeletons

#genshin impact #genshin kaeya #kaeya albrich #genshin diluc #diluc ragnvindr #genshin xingqiu #genshin ayaka #kamisato ayaka #please disregard any msitakes I am so tired I just wanted to write sometehing #gonna post my school doodles in my sketchbook on the art blog later probably anyway #kaeya has anxiety diluc seems mad xingqiu is stable and ayaka is confused that's it that's the post

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marauders70s · 4 years

Conversation

a collection of dumb hp-p&r text memes

dumbledore, gesturing: could a depressed person make this???

mcgonagall: your hand is literally rotting off

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harry: sometimes I feel like arguing with you is like arguing with the sun.

hermione: WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT I AM SUPER CHILL ALL THE TIME.

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pansy: you look awful

draco: what up bitch i just ran a 5k

pansy: really?

draco: no i threw up blood in the shower

pansy: that fight with potter really got ya down huh

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harry: hey ron are you okay

ron, wearing the locket, staring straight ahead at a tree: yeah i'm fine it's just that life is pointless and nothing matters and I'm always tired.

harry: hermione it's your turn

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sirius, at any minor convenience: everything hurts and i'm dying

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goyle: I once knew a guy for seven years and never learned his name. best friend i ever had. we still never talk sometimes, because he's dead.

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oliver: sometimes you gotta do a little work so you can ball a lot.

mcgonagall: that is incorrect

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james, during house arrest: If I keep my body moving, and my mind occupied at all times, I will avoid falling into a bottomless pit of despair.

lily, from the couch: oops

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snape, at a christmas dinner: I can still smell her hair at night

dumbledore, pouring a generous amount of mulled wine: Put some alcohol in your mouth to block the words from coming out.

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ron: hermione, i'm not using your color coded talking planner

hermione: we need to get good grades on our OWLs!

ron: there's nothing that could motivate me to use it

hermione: well, there's nothing we can't do if we work work hard, never sleep, and shirk from all other responsibilities in our lives.

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harry: Professor, I wanna go home early. Ooh, hold on actually, hang on. Yeah, no, I wanna quit and never come here again.

---

ron: i'm going to tell you all my secrets

hermione: you don't have to do that

ron: I once forgot to brush my teeth for five weeks

ron: I didn't actually break charlie's wand all the way I just hid it and forgot where

ron: I don't know who scrimgeour is and at this point I'm too afraid to ask.

ron: when they have 2 sickles a scoop on salamander eyes i'm not sure where the rest of the salamander goes

ron: when i was a baby fred turned my teddy into a spider and i got so scared my mum took me to a mindhealer and they wrote a textbook about me

ron: i once threw a garden gnome so hard that it hit my sister in the face and began attacking her

hermione, looking up from her book: what did ginny do?

ron: she bit it and it ran off.

hermione: classic

---

severus: no matter what i do nothing bad can happen to me. i'm like a white wizengamot official who pretended they were mind-controlled after the fall of the dark lord

lucius: I resent that

---

sirius: thank merlin my great uncle alphard just died so I am fluuuuusheeeeeed with galleeeeooonsss

remus: I'm going to regret this flatshare

---

seamus: i passed up a gay halloween party to see this troll. Do you know how much fun gay Halloween parties are? Last year I saw three Peverell Brothers make out with three Viktor Krums. It was amazing.

---

luna: We need to remember what's important in life. Friends, unpredictable creatures, and school. Or unpredictable creatures, friends, school. It doesn't matter. But school is third.

---

tom riddle: I totally hear you, but I also don't like what you're saying. So if you say no, I will release a giant snake in the bathroom

---

luna: would you like some -

hermione: no! I am going to run for minister of magic someday, so no, thank you. I mean, not that I haven't - I ate a brownie once at quidditch cup party. It was intense. It was kind of indescribable, actually. I felt like I was floating. Turns out there wasn't any potions in the brownie, it was just an insanely good brownie.

---

sirius: do i look like the kind of person who drinks water

---

neville: flying is the worst. I know it keeps you healthy, but merlin, at what cost?

ron: okay, you don't have to join the pick up game -

neville: no no i want to be included. i'll come

---

james: What I hear when I’m being yelled at is people caring really loudly at me.

sirius: that's not right

---

mcgongall: I think you’ve got several options. They’re all terrible…but you have them.

peter: this career counseling session is getting a bit intense

---

neville: how are you handling the...breakup...

ginny: I’m gonna buy some sweat pants and a Gilderoy Lockhart novel. Might as well lean into it.

---

dumbledore, in the staff room, extremely intoxicated: Who hasn’t had gay thoughts?

---

james: Goodbye, Lily Evans, my head girl partner. Hello, Lily Potter, my fallopian princess.

lily: i should have never married you. or at least made you wear a condom

james: what's a-

---

sprout: I’m a simple lesbian. I like pretty, dark-haired women, and man-killing plants.

---

sirius: A couple more rules: if you ever read a sad book, you have to wear mascara so we can see whether or not you’ve been crying. There’s no noise allowed on Mondays. And no magic after breakfast.

peter: er i'm sorry this was the dorm assigned to me...

---

remus: Hogwarts Library is headed by the most diabolical, ruthless bureaucrat I’ve ever seen. She's like a death eater but instead of avada kedavra and crucio she uses shame and shhhing.

james: she wouldn't let him into the restricted section without a note

remus, choking back tears: I AM A PREFECT

---

pansy: I have never flown the high road. But I tell other people to ‘cause then there’s more room for me on the low road.

---

hermione: If I had a stripper’s name, it would be Equality. for house elves and all beings.

ron: if i had a stripper's name it would be sugar striped candy pole for my -

harry: hermione, DON'T -

---

sir cadogen: You know, in the 1880’s, there were a few years that were pretty rough and tumble here at Hogwarts. This depicts kind of a famous fight between Morpheus Rane, a prefect in Slytherin house, and Wilhemena Batlock, a Hufflepuff seventh year. The original title of this painting was ‘A Lively Fisting.’ But y’know, they had to change it for…obvious reasons.

---

bellatrix, in the afterlife: i regret nothing. the end.

---

harry: I don’t want to be overdramatic, but today felt like a hundred years in hell and the absolute worst day of my life.

tofty: I'm sorry but you WILL have to repeat your history of magic OWL

---

james: Lucky for me, I’ve processed all my feelings. And I’ve gone through the five stages of grief - Denial, anger, picking on Peter, cat adoption, reckless dueling, cat returning to the adoption place, reading all Martin Miggs books in the series (what i was picking on peter for actually), and not giving a flying fuck.

remus: you can't say fuck

james: oh great i'm going to have to start the process all over again.

remus: peter, you'd better run

---

dudley: I’m allergic to magic candy. Every time I eat more than 80 sweeties I barf.

fred: how about...81

---

sirius: I’ll have a glass of your most expensive red wine mixed with a glass of your cheapest white wine served in a dog bowl. Silly straws all around, please.

remus: this is why we can't date in public

---

neville: I’m gonna get drunk and then I’m gonna order a three course meal where each course is made of dessert.

---

arthur: I promised myself I was not going to cry tonight, and I’ve already broken that promise five times. But I will not break it a sixth.

bill: dad maybe you shouldn't give a toast while fleur's family is still here

---

gilderoy: I have no idea what I’m doing, but I know I’m doing it really, really well.

---

pansy: Use him. Abuse him. Lose him. That’s the Parkinson motto.

draco: I thought the Parkinson motto is don't look at me you whore.

pansy: the motto is really more like a chapter book.

---

harry: You’re ridiculous and pureblood rights is nothing.

voldemort: wow

---

tonks: I would like a glass of red wine and I’ll take the cheapest one you have because I can’t tell the difference.

sirius: cheers i'll drink to that

remus: put. the bowl. down.

---

eh, and just one for the road: “I wonder who else was born in Eagleton. Voldemort, probably.” – Leslie Knope

#parks and rec #hp memes #incorrect harry potter

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astraeagreengrass · 4 years

Text

The Queen's Husband [VII/?]

When her reign is threatened, the Queen of Ergona must find a husband to secure her throne.

Word Count: 1.893

Warnings: angst, brief mentions of drowning and stabbing

A/N: The banner gif was found here. Thank you to the lovely @xbuchananbarnes for proof-reading this. I hope you like it ♡

When you were a child, your mother would take you to the seaside during the summer.

Ergona's shore is an angry one. Dark waves crash against the stone barriers of the cliffs in an endless battle, retreating in grey-white foam only to strike again, violent and persistent. Swimming was strictly forbidden, but she'd encourage you to run barefoot in the shell-covered sand, dipping your tiny toes in the freezing water. It chilled you to the bone, shivers sprouting from your legs to the roots of your hair but you loved it.

It was liberating.

The seagulls and the roar of the tide drowned out your squeals of delight, yet, even so, your mother smiled at the way your lips stretched and the wind mussed your careful updo. Under her watchful gaze, you were weightless, no crown or kingdom to hold you back - only childhood glory.

If only those days could last forever.

By the time you were nine years old you weren't so light anymore. Duty began to lurk in the corners of your world and even your mother's loving shelter couldn't stop the flood of laws, customs and obligations that washed away the last of your youth. On your last summer in Geotach, an entourage of tutors followed you and your mother to the coast, occupying your once lively afternoons on lessons in queenship.

You'd fight more often. The lure of power beguiled your innocent mind, and as much as your mother tried to hold you back, the possibilities of your future were too enticing.

"You don't understand!" you seethed. "I'll be the queen, the first of my name. Not a consort like you and not a whore like my father's mistresses. I have to be the best!"

"I want you to be the best, Y/N" she pleaded. "But at what cost?"

Cost was a funny thing - it was always more expensive than you originally thought. At nine years old - nothing more than a child - you believed the price of power would be the loss of fun and games that'd defined your privileged upbringing so far. Nothing can prepare kings and queens for the doubt, the anxiety and the fear that comes with bearing a crown and how pride - dripping from your shallow tongue as you'd talk back to the one person who could actively help you - is a trap.

It was your pride that lead the way as you snuck out of the manor, smirking wider as you passed each oblivious guard, down the stone steps to the sand. It was a siren's voice, whispering in the howling wind, tempting you to dive deeper in the dark ocean because even the sea should bend to the queen's will.

Only you were not the queen yet, you were just a girl.

You were underwater for hours, or maybe seconds. Time was irrelevant and trying to tame it was as useless as your struggle to swim to surface. Your lungs burned, but the water drowned out it’s fire and your helpless screams. And was cold, so cold…

"Y/N?"

Wanda's voice startled you, rousing you from sleep.

"Did you have a bad dream?" she asked kindly.

You frowned.

"It was a memory."

There was a breakfast tray on the coffee table. Twisting your neck, you saw a sliver of daylight sneaking through a narrow crack in the curtains. The fire was out, engulfing the room in frigidity just like that of your nightmare and your joints screamed from the way you slept slumped in the armchair, still in your ball gown.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Wanda coaxed, stoking the embers. Black dust stained the tips of her dainty fingers.

Rubbing your hands for warmth, you said:

"Did I ever tell you about the night my mother died?"

Wanda frowned, taking a seat on the chair to your left.

"Yes, Your Grace. Your mother..."

"Was stabbed to death" you completed after sensing her hesitation. "Just like Uncle Tony."

"Lord Stark is alive, Your Grace. Dr. Banner has assured he'll recover" she stated.

"Yes, but it may take weeks for him to wake up! Meanwhile, Aunt Virginia is without her husband and Morgan is without her father" your closed fist banged on the wooden armrest, but the pain was meaningless. "And it's my fault."

"Your Grace… Y/N. Please don't say that" Wanda pleaded. "There's nothing you could've done."

You rubbed your temples furiously, while your eyes stinged with unshed tears. They choked you, stealing the air from your lungs - just like the furious sea.

"The night my mother died, I had escaped from the manor in Geotach" you recalled. "It was the middle of the night and I wanted to swim in the ocean, despite her always warning me to never do that because the water was too unpredictable. I wanted to prove her that I could do anything I wanted because, in my stupid, reckless mind, that's what queens did."

"She was right about the water, of course. It pulled me under so fast and I barely remember being dragged out. My mother had noticed my absence and warned the guards, so naturally they came for me, leaving her at the house unprotected."

"When we returned we found her body - stabbed over ten times by my math tutor, Mr. Jasper Sitwell. He'd killed her then slit his own throat with a silver dagger, just like Zemo last night. Next to him was a note, with two words: Hail Hydra."

Wanda cursed. The flames from the fireplaces made her auburn hair look almost scarlet.

"You can't blame yourself for this, Your Grace" she whispered.

"Can't I?” you muttered, self-hatred muffling Wanda’s consolation.

"What is Hydra, Your Grace?"

"Legend says it's a secret society of dragon hunters" you explained what little you'd gathered from years and years of research. "I guess one could believe that as much as they can believe in dragons."

"The dragon is the symbol of your house. It is said your ancestors built this fortress themselves using dragon fire" she said.

"There is no evidence dragons ever existed, Wanda" you declared. "Besides, even if they did once, there's nothing left to my family other than skeletons in our closets. I think whatever or whoever Hydra is, they're just trying to destroy me."

Wanda leaned over to whisper something, but a knock on the door interrupted her. You were about to say you didn't want any visitors when she claimed:

"It must be Natasha with Dr. Banner."

That confused you.

"Dr. Banner? Shouldn't he be tending to my uncle?"

"Lord Stark is out of danger, Your Grace. Now we must check if you are."

Of course - your baby. Your hands instinctively went to your stomach as Natasha and Dr. Banner crossed the room. The doctor's kind face was weary and tired from aiding your uncle all night, but still he directed you an encouraging smile:

"Your Grace, I hope I can bring you some good news."

You sighed.

"So do I, Dr. Banner. So do I."

Peter Parker was scared.

Pacing outside the royal chambers, twisting his hands in anxiety, Tony Stark's young squire fought the urge to flee or throw up.

"Keep it together, Peter" he scolded himself.

It was hard to believe that less than twenty-four hours ago his biggest concern was fixing the knot on his cravat - the damn thing kept loosening! - so that he looked perfect to attend his first ball. It was Lord Stark that managed to straighten it, with an amused smirk and a pat to the boy's shoulder. Now his mentor was in a coma while his body struggled to recover from the wounds Peter couldn't prevent.

He was the worst squire in the history of Ergona, but there was one last thing he had to do before scurrying back home

He straightened himself when the doors to your chambers opened and you walked out, followed by your handmaiden, Dr. Bruce Banner and Lady Natasha Romanoff. Peter always thought you looked majestic, the strongest woman he's ever seen, but today you were defeated, with bags under your eyes and a hunch in your pace, as if the weight of the world had finally caught up to you.

Once Dr. Banner bid you his farewells, you turned to Peter, your ladies by your side.

"Mr. Parker" you greeted "What can I do for you?"

The boy cleared his throat and curtsied.

“Your Grace” he said. “Forgive my boldness, but may I speak with you in private?”

You raised one eyebrow, tired gaze softening at the sight of the squire. At the cusp of manhood, Peter Parker was all smooth edges and golden dreams, crushed under the gleam of a silver knife. You uncle had taken him under his wing not less than a year ago,

“Walk with us, Peter” you said, motioning him to step in beside you, Wanda and Natasha close behind.

Your handmaiden claimed that the Keep had been forged from dragon fire, but how could she believe that after spending six winters inside these walls was beyond you. The wind seemed to penetrate the stone, howling through the hallways and halls in an eerie song. The noise drowned out your voice when you said:

“You’re May Parker’s nephew, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Your Grace” he nodded. “She raised me as her own after my parents passed away.”

“She is a very good woman and a skilled seamstress. I have much admiration for her.”

Peter cracked a small smile.

“Thank you, Your Grace. I’ll be sure to pass your compliments along when I return home.”

“You’re planning on going home?” you asked.

“Well, I just assumed I would be stripped from my title, Your Grace” he stuttered. “Considering my failure to prevent the attack on Lord Stark.”

“Lord Stark named you his squire, Peter. Only him can remove your title, not me. And even if I could, I wouldn’t. What happened last night was not your fault.”

You stopped in front of a closed window, but the iron knob was too stiff from lack of use.

“Help me get this open, please” you grunted.

Together, you and Peter cracked the window open, baring your faces to the freezing wind. Through the fog, you could briefly make out the snow covered hills of Albeon.

“The walls of this Keep have ears, Peter” you stated and the boy had to perk his ears to hear you. “I’m sorry about the wind, but it’s noise will drown out what you have to say.”

Peter briefly noticed that Lady Natasha and Mrs. Wanda had stepped back and were now each facing one end of the hallway. No one would dare pass by them.

“Your Grace” he started. “After your engagement, Lord Stark gave me a mission: He commanded me to spy on the King’s father and some other nobles from West Ergona.”

“He was suspicious of the Duke of Arvenia, for reasons he never made clear, but, as his squire, it wasn’t my place to ask anyway. So, during Lord Roger’s stay in Albeon, I traced his movements and reported back to Lord Stark.”

“That man that stabbed your uncle, Baron Zemo. He said something before he killed himself: Hail Hydra. I’ve heard these words before, Your Grace. I’ve heard them from the mouth of Joseph Rogers, the Duke of Arvenia and King Steven’s father.”

A/N: *plays Law & Order theme song* TA DUM

#steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #king!au #king!steve #king!steve rogers #king!steve rogers x reader #king!steve rogers x you #king!steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve x reader #steve x you #steve x y/n #steve x female reader #marvel!au #marvel au

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nataliedanovelist · 4 years

Text

GF - Growing Old(er)

Alternate Title: Growing Older

Summary: Everyone has a sinking realization that life is temporary and that we’re all gonna die, and unfortunately sweet Mabel has her’s.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Come on, Stanley, be serious!”

“I am serious! Dipper can have my boxing gloves and Mabel can have my old collection of photos.”

“This is an important document that goes above and beyond a few keepsakes!” Ford tried to explain this, yet again, to his brother. “We need to discuss more important arrangements…”

“Look, Wise Guy, the Shack already belongs to Soos…”

“But what about the car? What about the Stan O’ War?”

“The boat’s gonna be burned down with us in it.” Stan held up his hands in front of him and moved them apart as he elaborated. “Picture this: two old sailors lying in their boat, their friends and family shooting flaming arrows at it across the sea as some farewell-bar song plays. We’d go down like kings!”

“Yeah, no.” Ford said firmly. “We’re not doing that.”

Mabel skipped into the living room and found her grunkles at the card table. They had a bunch of stupid-looking documents covering the table, but Ford seemed like the only one really interested in it, a pen in his hand and he was leaning forward to work while Stan was sipping a can of soda and sat back in the chair. “Whatcha doin’?” She asked.

“Constructing our will and testimony.”

“WHAT?!” Mabel shrieked and covered her mouth with her hands. Her uncles stared at their niece as her eyes filled with tears and she struggled to ask with a choked whisper, “Are… are you guys…”

“Oh no, pumpkin.” Stan scooped her up into his lap and hugged her. Mabel clung onto his undershirt tightly and bit her lip as she tried not to cry. “Sixer and I are fine, I promise. He just thought it’d be a bright idea to get this outta the way for when we do kick the bucket.”

Ford leaned forward and rubbed her back. “I’m sorry, my dear, I never meant to scare you like this. I swear, we’re both perfectly healthy and going to be around for awhile.”

Mabel wiped her tears away with the sleeve of her sweater and sniffed. “O-Okay. So… why are you making a will?”

“Well, unfortunately someone bypassed the downsides of faking your death and stealing another man’s name.” Ford said lightly as he gave Stan a crooked smile. His twin just stuck his tongue out at him. “So there are some things we need to discuss to simplify complicated actions and it would be a good idea to make certain arrangements.”

“Like what?”

“Well, since in a way we both share the name ‘Stanford Pines’, it would be wise to make such legal documents together. This will ensure that the right people receive the right gifts and inheritance, and that our bodies are properly taken care of in an orderly manner that best helps the living grieve and keeps the government off our backs.”

Mabel still didn’t like the sound of all of this. “But why do you guys need to talk about it? You said you’re fine.”

“We are, sweetie,” Stan said warmly and ruffled her hair. “But we’re not gonna be around forever. Eventually these old farts are gonna be sleeping with the fishes, and when that happens we just wanna make sure everything’s taken care of. At least that’s what Sixer wants. I don’t care what happens as long as my tombstone is bigger than his.”

“That is not going to happen.” Ford said firmly with a smile.

“Too bad, I called it.”

“Since when?!”

“Since the election last summer. The niblings can back me up, right Mabel?”

The brunette grinned and shrugged. “Sorry, but since you two aren’t fighting anymore it doesn’t count. Clean slate!”

“What?!” Stan gasped with a smile. “Betrayed by my own pumpkin! Fine! Someone’s not getting my old stop-motion movies!”

“Good!” Mabel laughed with her uncles for a little bit while Ford wrote some stuff down, still trying to complete the task. The teenage girl looked up at her hero and she remembered the reason why she came in here in the first place. “Hey, do you guys wanna go make some cupcakes with me? I’ve got extra sprinkles!”

“Sure,” Stan let Mabel slide off his lap and he stood, but his brother stopped him.

“Not so fast, Stan, we have to finish this at some point. Why don’t we make cupcakes after dinner?”

Mabel’s concerns were coming back. She looked at Ford carefully to try to pick up a lie. “I thought you said you two were okay.”

“We are, Mabel, I promise.” Ford even paused his work and crossed his heart for his niece, making her smile. “But no one lives forever. One day we won’t be here. It’s like Stanley said; we just want to make sure everything will be okay.”

“It’s the way it works.” Stan said with a shrug and plopped down in his chair. “We’re born, we live a little, and then we die. S’long as you don’t just survive but live too, it ain’t so bad.”

Mabel stared at her uncles. “Aren’t you scared?” Her voice was meek and lacked her usual confidence.

“Of death? Not really.” Ford admitted. “Death is nothing but the next great adventure. An unseen destiny awaiting all mortals at the end of their lifespans.”

“And hey, that doesn’t mean I’m ready to go just yet.” Stan added in. “I wanna see my kids graduate and get married and have their own little gremlins to terrorize them.”

“Oh, absolutely!” Ford quickly agreed with. “I didn’t mean we’re done with life, but the more familiar we become with death, the less frightening it is.”

“Besides, we’ve both faced the hooded dude so many times, leaving with him will be like seeing an old friend.” Stan barked a quick laugh and added, “Maybe I’ll grab drinks with him!”

Mabel giggled, but then slowly wandered onto a dark train of thought. The idea of death was not new to her; she and her brother had nearly died at the hands of an evil triangle (she still sometimes had nightmares about it). But even though she had come to terms with growing up, she hadn’t put two and two together and realized that growing up also means growing older and then dying. It was new territory Mabel had not yet ventured into, and suddenly she didn’t feel like making cupcakes anymore.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next day the subject was still on Mabel’s mind. One day, her favorite people in the whole world were going to die. Stan was going to die, Ford was going to die, Dipper was going to die. Then she would be all alone until she died. But then what? The end? Lights out? There were such things as ghosts, so maybe they could come back and haunt Gravity Falls as a family, but the ghosts didn’t seem quite like themselves on Earth; they were vengeful and angry and hurt. Mabel’s grunkles had enough of that in life, so maybe it was for the best that they don’t come back.

Mabel was so distracted that she tripped on a rock while walking in the woods and scraped her knee. She held it and winced with tears in her eyes, a little bit of blood trickling down from her small wound. “Ow, ow, ow! What the…”

She looked at the rock that had caused it and saw something odd by it. A necklace with a silver chain and a red ruby in a circle sparkled by the rock. Mabel picked it up and looked at it. Scratches of some kind were around the ruby and it sparkled and looked pretty. The ruby was a darker red than most normal rubies, but there was no denying the sparkling gem. “Wow, cool! I bet Grunkle Ford would love to look at this.” For safekeeping, Mabel put it around her neck and tucked it under her sweater as she stood.

She continued on her way to town and she smiled at the arcade. As she approached, she was oblivious to her changing body. She grew a few inches taller, now maybe slightly shorter than Wendy, and her hair was shorter, now only to her shoulders. A few zits littered her maturing skin and her curves were growing in. Mabel was so distracted by her thoughts and the need to think of something else that she didn’t even notice. Her clothes magically changed with her so she didn’t feel tight or uncomfortable.

Mabel entered the arcade and happily played that new battle video game she had her eye on. Shooting aliens made her feel a little bit better, but it also made her hungry. She left the arcade a little while later and talked to herself as she wandered around Gravity Falls for something to eat. “I mean, I get it. There’s nothing wrong with change. I know there’s nothing I can do about it, but I guess I never really thought about everything changing like that.”

As Mabel walked, her hair grew back to it’s normal length and her zits went away. Her vision was a little blurry, but Mabel just shrugged it off and dismissed it as a sign that she was tired. She did feel emotionally drained as she purchased a jelly-filled doughnut and munch on it, her mind now in a rut. She had no idea what to do or where to go to feel better, so maybe a walk in the woods would help.

Mabel strolled through the forest and continued to think about life and death. “Poor guys… what will happen to them if they’re not together? What if Grunkle Stan dies first? Grunkle Ford will be all alone, but what if Grunkle Ford dies first? Then Grunkle Stan will be all alone again. None of that’s fair.” Mabel then gasped in horror and her eyes became more blurry due to tears. “What if Dipper dies first and I end up all alone? Or what if I die first and then he’ll be all alone? Ugh, why can’t every twin die of duel heart attack?!”

Mabel was very tired. Her back ached and her legs ached and her knees ached and she had a headache… everything hurt. She realized she was at the lake and she decided to sit by the shoreline and rest. She held her knees by her chest and peered down at the water. “I guess I just gotta… WHAT?!” Mabel yelled in horror and jumped away from her reflection, but then forced herself to make sure she wasn’t crazy.

An old version of Mabel stared back at the thirteen-year-old. Her gray hair was the same shade as Grunkle Stan’s except for a stripe of darker gray down her long hair, kinda like Grunkle Ford. She had wrinkles from all of her past smiles and her hands were ached with arthritis. In fact, everything hurt, but if Mabel had to guess, her reflection was only in her fifties.

“Wow… I look so cool!” Mabel cheered as she peered down at the lake. “Look at me! I look like a silver fox! This is great! I can buy all the drinks and magazines I want! On weekdays I get half-priced dinners! I get free money from the government! And now I don’t have to go to high-school!” She laughed at her own joke, but then her back popped painfully and she yelped. “Ouch! Is this how the guys feel all the time?” Mabel asked as she looked at her curly gray hair and her wrinkling skin. A scary realization started to sink in. “Oh no. This… This is bad… What if I… Ford!” She gasped and quickly stood up. “Grunkle Ford will know what to do! He can fix me!”

Against better judgment, Mabel ran as fast as she could for home. Her hair became grayer and curlier as it began to lose it’s life. Mabel suddenly felt an overwhelming pain in her chest, making it hard to breathe, and she tripped over her own feet and fell, unable to get back up. The old lady moaned on the grass, helpless. She looked up and with her horrible vision she could have sworn she could see a brown triangle up ahead, indicating the Mystery Shack.

“Help… help…” She breathed weakly, but no one was coming. She sighed with exhaustion and laid back down on her front to try to regain some rest so she could move forward.

Dipper, meanwhile, had been looking for his sister. He guessed she was hanging out with Candy and Grenda, but in case she was somewhere in the house he wanted to ask her if she had borrowed his BABBA CD. “Mabel? Mabel?” He called on the porch. He shrugged and was about to head inside, forced to be patient, but then he heard and saw Waddles scamblering out of the woods alone; immediately Dipper suspected something was off; Mabel never lets her beloved pig explore alone, but maybe he had been adventurous and sneaky and now regretted it.

“Waddles?” Dipper scratched the top of his head to calm him down. “What’s up, buddy? You okay?”

Waddles suddenly bit his vest, tugged, and then let go and ran back to the edge of the woods. He oinked and squealed, begging Dipper to follow him. Taking his chances, Dipper followed, wondering if something - or someone - was out there. Only a few steps into the woods and Dipper saw a woman on the ground face-first. He saw the long gray hair and gasped with shock when he realized it was an old lady. “Whoa, hey, are you okay, miss?” He asked and was on his knees by her side, unsure how to help.

“Dipper…” The old lady sighed and looked up at the boy.

“Mabel?!” Dipper gasped; she may be old, but he could recognise her own twin. “What the heck happened?! Did you time travel? Are you from the future?!”

“N-No…” Mabel sighed. “Ford… Grunkle Ford… get…”

“Come on, I’ll take you to him.” Dipper said firmly to mask his fear. He draped one of his sister’s frail arms over his neck and helped her up to her feet. Slowly but surely they were heading back towards home.

Meanwhile, Ford was at the kitchen table, pleasantly munching on his lunch. Stan, on the other hand, shivered, put down his fork, and gulped down some soda.

“What, you don’t like my tuna salad?” The scientist asked.

“No. Who puts raisins in tuna salad?”

“The French.”

“Well, it’s not right.” Stan grumbled as he started on a new task: picking the raisins out of his meal.

Ford rolled his eyes and got up to refill his glass with water. The door opened and they heard Dipper’s voice before they saw him. “Grunkle Ford!”

He smiled kindly and turned, “What is it, m-” He dropped his glass, letting it shatter by his boots.

Mabel hung loosely by his shoulder, her hair gray and her skin in wrinkles. The elder twins rushed to her and Stan got to her first, holding her gently by the chin to look at her face. “Mabel, sweetie! Can you hear me? What happened?!”

“I don’t know, I just found her like this!” Dipper answered.

“Set her in the armchair.” Ford instructed. “We can fix this…”

“What if we can’t?!” Stan dared to ask. “I’m not just saying this cuz of her age, but she doesn’t look good.”

“No, you’re right.” Ford elaborated. “She’s not that much older than us, but the sudden change must have taken a toll on her body; we’ve had time to adjust and keep our bodies in good shape… or at least prevent aches, but she hasn’t had that kind of time. But she’ll be fine, we can reverse this, I’m sure of it.”

Dipper had Mabel sit on the armchair, her eyes closed, and now sitting back the amount of effort she had to put into breathing was more apparent. She groaned slightly and the boys were shocked to find her aging again more rapidly in front of them. Her wrinkles were deeper and her hair slowly turned white.

“Dipper, get the first aid kit, now!” Ford commanded and the teenager was off like a rocket.

Stan sat on the dino-skull and held her thin hand. “Just hang on, pumpkin, we’ve got this.” He soothed, his voice trembling slightly due to his tightening throat.

Mabel moaned slightly and tried to open her eyes. “Gr-Grunkle Stan…”

“Yeah, it’s me, sweetheart.” Stan smiled and squeezed her hand. “You’ll be fine, you’re a Pines for crying out loud, so just hang in there, okay?”

Mabel cracked a small smile and nodded.

Dipper was back. “Here!”

“Good,” Ford opened it and took her opposite hand, pulling out a stethoscope and listening to her heartbeat through her wrist. “Let’s see…”

Mabel was aging again; her hair was thinning and some of it was falling out of her scalp. Her hand in Stan’s grasp was now nothing more than skin on bones, her veins sensitive. She moaned and had to put more effort into her breathing; now she looked almost a hundred.

“No, no, no!” Stan called. “Mabel?”

“Hold on, sweetie, it’ll be okay.” Ford gently coached Mabel as he listened to her heartbeat, praying it would never stop.

“What the…” Dipper began to notice faint glowing behind Mabel’s sweater. He pulled down to see her neck and upper-chest and he gasped at a red ruby necklace with a silver chain. The gem was glowing and vibrating, almost looking like it was hot, and when Dipper went to touch it, it almost burned his skin and it was stuck to Mabel’s skin like it had been super-glued onto her.

“That’s not any gem!” Ford gasped. “That’s a Youth-Sucker! It drains the wearer’s youth until the host dies and then the necklace will feed off of the body.”

“What do we do, what do we do?!” Stan asked.

“We have to remove it, carefully.” Ford said and turned to Dipper. “Get the tool kit.” And the teenager was gone, again.

Too soon Mabel was aging again. More hair was falling out, now half of it was gone and the rest remaining was thin. Mabel tried to swallow a moan but it was very apparent on her face that she was in a lot of pain. The pain would definitely explain the sou-sucking leech. Ford eyed the anomaly on his niece’s chest as it began to pur happily over the approaching meal.

“Dipper, hurry!” Ford barked harshly.

Mabel struggled to open her eyes, but she was tired of looking at the darkness. “I… I love you…” Her voice was so quiet and so weak it was a miracle it could be heard.

Stan squeezed her hand as tightly as he could risk without hurting her. “We love you too, pumpkin, but don’t gimme any of that mushy stuff like it’s goodbye, okay?” He blinked to try to ease the stinging in his eyes.

“M’scared…”

“Here!” Dipper was back and practically threw the tool box at Ford so he could get to work.

The scientist pulled out one of his electronic gloves and a pair of tweezers and instructed,” Dipper, hold down the sweater’s neck so I can work.” Dipper helped the gem being showcased and it continued to vibrate and burn and pur. Mabel would probably have a very nasty burn on her chest for a while, but that didn’t matter nearly as much as saving her life.

“Easy, easy,” Ford said mostly to himself as he carefully pinched the gem by the hook where the string was, reading to pull when the anomaly was at its weakest. He would have to do it quickly to not worsen Mabel’s burn with his glove, and so in classic Stanford Pines action, with one swift movement he shocked the gem and pulled it off of Mabel’s chest the second it screeched with pain and anger.

The moment the Youth-Sucker was off Mabel her youth returned her to and soon she was a tired thirteen-year-old, rosy cheeked and with a full head of beautiful brown hair. She blinked her eyes open and rubbed them with her fists, like waking from a dream, and was surprised to find still electrocuting the Youth-Sucker in his fist as punishment for trying to kill his Mabel. “Whoa.”

“Mabel!” Stan cried out and swallowed her into his lap for a tight hug. “Don’t scare me like that, pumpkin, I thought I was gonna lose you!”

“I’m sorry, I just thought it looked cool.” Mabel tried to explain but her face was buried in his chest and she happily hugged him back.

“Well, all’s well that ends well.” Ford breathed, his anxiety finally going down as he stood normally and pocketed the Youth-Sucker to dissect for science. “I’m sure there’s a valuable lesson to take from all of this.”

“Meh, too tired to figure that out.” Mabel moaned as she nuzzled her face against her grunkle.

“Alright, then bed sweetie.” And Dipper and Ford knew better than to point out that he was taking her to his bedroom instead of the attic; Stan needed a nap, too, and there was no way he was going to let his little girl out of his arms for a while after that traumatizing scare.

#GF #fanfiction #nothing but angst #totally NOT based off an episode of Steven Universe #gravity falls #mabel pines

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rosepetals-flyingbirds · 5 years

Text

Litany.

Pairing: Björn Ironside x Reader.

Warning: Fluff, smut… stereotyped young love?

Word Count: 4,482.

Litany-[lit-n-ee]: A ceremonial or liturgical form of prayer consisting of a series of invocations or supplications with responses that are the same for a number in succession.

(Gifs are not mine, credits to their owners.)

Y/N was a princess and the younger daughter of the Earl Rvan that people called The Bloody Bear since he had to kill three bears to proof to his parents that he was a true warrior and deserved his crown and earl’s title.

The man was relative to Earl Horik and surprisingly was better than his dead cousin. He was fighting with another Earl and needed extra help, Björn and Halfdan had stepped into their lands and Rvan got surprised with the answer the gods had sent to his prayer.

He asked for help and Björn gladly accepted since he was missing the action and he desired the taste of a good battle. He had fought with Christians but nothing like Vikings versus Vikings to get a bloody battlefield.

Björn fancied a fight where the warriors would use handmade armor, not fancy archery or fresh foreign armor. The old shield, sword, and axe was the best type of battle to every Viking.

…

In the battle Rvan’s cousin had a bigger army, but Y/N had made a strategy and she knew they would win if they followed her instructions. The battle started and it was magnificent. Björn was smiling after every good movement with his sword, every man he had defeated brought a feeling of pride deep in his chest.

Halfdan was feeling like the young boy he had been years prior, he surely had lived great adventures but nothing like a Viking battle to make him feel like he deserved to belong to Valhalla aside all the gods.

Y/N fought with her heart and soul, her strategy of using a rope dipped in frog venom in the middle of the field has to succeed and a big number of men got cut in the middle by it when they ran to their reach and died agonizing because of the citric venom burning their skin wide open.

When the battle ended, Rvan got his enemy and grabbed his land to add on his own. His cousin begged for mercy but Rvan just sucked on his teeth and said. “You didn’t when you killed Y/N’s mother and tried to kill my daughter too.” Then he dragged the man to his lands where he would make a blood eagle ceremony.

When the night came, Rvan did the ceremony and his cousin died screaming, with that, losing his place in Valhalla.

Björn and Halfdan celebrated the after the battle on a big victorious feast and asked Y/N what her uncle had done to her mother and her.

“When she was pregnant he gave her a wine saying it was a blessing, but her shieldmaiden tried it first and died choking on her own saliva out of her mouth. He acted coy and said it was a gift from another man he had met. Then when I had born he sent two men to kill us, my mother must have sensed something since she placed me inside my sister's room and not on her own where I would stay. Then the men came and killed her, they tried to find me but they didn’t.” She said and felt a pinch of sadness, it was tough to grow up without her mother, but otherwise maybe if she was still alive she wouldn’t have grown in the middle of battles and Viking’s strategies.

Björn felt bad about her, he loved his mother with his entire life, must have been difficult to grow up without a mother and surrounded by sisters that were daughters of another woman. “I’m sorry.” He said truthfully and she nodded with a side smile.

The following hours were filled with victorious songs - which Halfdan knew a lot of - and dancing. Everyone was happy and couldn’t wait to take the new lands.

…

On the day after Rvan had a talk with Björn where he said that he knew what the way Björn looked at his precious daughter meant, but he needed to know that Y/N was his best daughter, the one that truly cared about battles and being a true Viking.

Björn said he meant no harm toward her and if she agreed he would take her to his next adventures.

The bearded man smiled and said that she surely would have an exciting life, as the seer had told him once. And her skills and strategies would take her whenever she wished too.

He made the father talk and asked if Björn had any interest in his daughter. Björn said he surely thought Y/N was beautiful and smart, but he didn’t want to intrude on her life or make an arrangement where she didn’t feel comfortable in. “Björn our ancestors took this land, and it has been strengthened with our blood and bone. But all of this just became possible with the help of women and men side by side. And if Y/N agree to marry you, I would love to have you as my son in law.”

…

The days passed and Björn didn’t want to leave the lands. He talked more and more with Y/N and thought about a proposal, but he didn’t want to be taken down. Other men had asked her, she never had accepted.

They shared stories and crazy childhood tales. Being the younger child of a famous man was rough, especially when she had grown up surrounded by four sisters who always called her a freak. In one cloudy day, Y/N went swimming in a lake close to her father’s lands, it was still on his part but was tranquil.

She looked around stripping out of her clothes and entered the cold water. She swam around and stood up to let the water cascade on her form. When she did so her breast was on full display as all the rest of her beautiful body. She turned around to look at the trees but saw a sword close to a rock, not her sword.

Björn was thinking about his parents’ stories and advises, he thought about everything he got trough and how he received the name IronSide, he has his eyes closed and prayed to Thor to help him in the future battles, prayed to enlighten too. He loved his brothers but it was like he couldn’t be himself around them, like he needed to pay attention all the time to his younger siblings rather than be a ruthless Viking.

He sent the last pray the one he always sends in the last part, the one where he asks the gods for someone good for him, someone where he can be himself and conquer lands with.

He opened his eyes ready to go back to the settlement and maybe celebrate the following days. But when he opened his eyes he saw Y/N’s naked body inside the lake. The vision was somehow erogenous and surprising, he surely wasn’t expecting to open his eyes after a pray and encounter a naked woman. The vision was somehow an erotic confirmation.

Or maybe that was the reply to his prayer, maybe Y/N was the woman he had sought his whole life, someone, that would complete him. Of course, he had his fun but the first girl he had ‘fall in love’ left him and after that he took another in marriage even though he didn’t love her, he did so because he wanted to make some justice since his father had killed her husband and left her alone with a stupid boy.

Y/N was, by all means, strong and oh so smart with her strategies and battle skills. He surely thought she was beautiful, but now looking at her adorned with nothing but water on her made him feel like she was the most precious thing ever. Like a goddess he would dream about while he was a simple kid. Could she be a Valkyrie?

Y/N almost jumped out of her skin when she saw Björn sat in front of the lake. She hadn’t seen him there before but it was understandable since he was near a hidden part. She dove into the water and swam away startled. She wasn’t scared about Björn but because he had seen her naked body and no one had before. Besides she didn’t allow it, so the thought alone frightened her.

She stood up and dressed her clothes posthaste. Björn came throughout the trees. “Y/N I’m sorry I swear I wasn’t spying or following you.” He said.

She made sure the tunic covered everything and dressed her pants. “Yeah,” She said not believing in him, he is a man after all.

“Listen, I was praying and I had my eyes closed and then I opened them and you were just there.” His words were truthful, she took a deep breath and looked at him, he surely seemed innocent.

She thought about it and it must be true, for the first time she didn’t make sure the place was safe. “It’s okay, I mean I always make sure everywhere near is safe I think I was so deep in my thoughts that I didn’t pay the proper attention.”

She placed her whole clothes, not caring that she didn’t dry her body under. Björn nodded and gave a few steps away, but he stopped his tracks and looked at her. “Why you didn’t get the wedding proposals Rvan told us you received?”

She started to walk back to the city with him escorting her. “Why are you asking?” Björn just shrugged. She grabbed her sword and placed it in the holster around her waist. “I don’t want to be married out of policy or lands union. I know it’s stupid but if I’m not with someone that will be with me throughout everything, why the point of marriage?”

He pondered about her answer and grinned, it was exactly what he wanted. “What about the other Earl’s and Princes?”

“I don’t know,” She bit her lip in deep thinking. “I think none of them got my attention, can I tell you a secret Björn Ironside?” He nodded. “Men tend to see a woman and think she is the must magnify thing they had ever wanted, they woo her and promise countless things. They promise lands, riches, love, attention and power.

But from the moment she agrees with them, they stop all the caress and take her for granted. And they surely will find another woman and to all the same things while the first victim is at home surrounded by children.” He paid close attention to her words.

“I can’t disagree with that. But you don’t believe the Gods had planned someone perfect for you? A man that will be by your side just in the way you want him to?”

“I think the Gods have bigger problems than worry about love affairs, dear Björn.”

“Well, I assure you that I would love to be present on the day a lucky bastard will marry you.” He said and kissed her hand. She knew that move to well, but Björn’s company made her happy and somehow safe.

The next hours it was joyful around the feast Rvan was throwing. The place had a happy aura and it looked like everyone was enjoying themselves. Y/N were using a beautiful black dress in which Björn swore he had never seen the same fabric before. He and his friend Halfdan were explaining how the Mediterranean is and everyone got surprised of how different those places might be. Since before Ragnar, the Vikings didn’t believe it has any other land after where the seawater could touch.

Y/N sat at the table and paid attention to the conversation, it was comfortably adorable how Björn and Halfdan talked with so much passion on their voices.

“Maybe one day you can take Y/N there with you, she adores travel and meet new places,” Rvan said and Y/N knew he meant something more than travel.

“Father don’t ask things without my consent.” She said.

Rvan laughed. “Oh come on, I’m not saying for him ask you in marriage, my daughter, I’m only saying that because I know you adore meet new places and would love to travel and fight in foreign lands.”

Halfdan looked at Björn whose surprisingly was blushing. “We would love to take her on our adventures if something after our battle yesterday proved something it was that she can take care of herself.” He announced.

Y/N smiled and felt proud, of course, she knew that herself acknowledged how to fight but hearing someone of elsewhere say it made her feel proud of all the years of training she had endured. A title of the princess can lead people to think she is spoiled or weak but it wasn’t like that.

Her sisters never understood why she wanted to fight so much, actually it had a rumor that the younger daughter of Rvan The Bloody Bear didn’t like men and referred women. It was a futile rumor which hadn’t bothered her so much. If people wanted to believe she didn’t like the simple-minded men that lived on her father’s lands or liked to fight because she liked women romantically, Y/N didn’t mind. All she ever wanted was to sail away and start a life of adventure and maybe find someone that would make her time justice.

…

The day after Björn and Y/N walked around the area and both had a great time, Y/N told him stories about each area they went on and Björn swore he could hear her voice forever, they laughed and even took some food to make a small picnic. At the end of the day they were making out complete in touch with each other.

Björn had said all he felt and apologized if it was too rushy or if she would doubt his sincerity since she was the reason so many men wanted to be on her father’s lands. She just smiled and told him he was specifically what she had asked the Gods for so long, he said she was his answer too. She was, by all means, the best response he would ever pray for.

One of the Rvan’s men came looking for her saying her father was worried she was out for too long. She groaned and left the place.

Björn was sad about the absence of her mouth and body against his own, but he understood she wasn’t just some woman he would lay with and then leave, as it awful it sounded: she was different.

When she got back to her place she made sure to make all of her duties with her father and then sent someone to tell Björn she wanted him at a small cabin west of the great hall. He smiled and nodded he couldn’t wait to go there and be in her presence again.

He walked to the cabin and when he entered Y/N was there fidgeting with her fingers. When he saw him she became nervous. Björn was strong and had met other women earlier in his life, Y/N was just a young woman that had never been touched before. She was scared that it would hurt as her sisters had always told or if he would leave her after they did so.

Björn was surprisingly nervous too.

She looked around the place trying to control her nerves. “This is my safe place.” He looked around seeing some flowers and plant branches. A few candles and the fireplace. He nodded and walked closer to her reach. “I’m nervous.” She said.

“You don’t have to be, I will treat you like the princess you are. But if you had changed your mind I completely understand.” He said truthfully looking into her eyes, each step closer to her.

Y/N smiled at his words, glad to know he respects her enough. But she needed this, she needed the man she had prayed the Gods. The man the seer had seen hundreds of moons ago. “I want that, us.” She said in a calm voice with a smile on her angelical features.

Björn kneeled in front of her, he comprehends how important it would be for her to make sure both were equal. She glanced at him wondering why he was in such a position. He touched her kneecaps and let his hand caress the area around, he looked at her and she gasped at the feeling of his firmly warm hands on her skin. He moved her dress away from her thighs and kissed there.

She touched his neck and pulled it making him search her mouth, the kiss was tender. Now his hands touched her hips and grabbed her up while he stands, she placed her legs around his waist and kissed his mouth with more fever.

He turned around and sat at the end of the bed where she was sat previously, she felt something in his leather breeches and smiled knowing it was his hard prick waiting for her. Björn bite her lower lip and started to leave kisses on her neck, she moaned and he felt like he had joined Valhalla somehow hearing those sweet sounds.

He laid in bed with her above him, she adjusted her dress but he got impatience and stripped it out of her. The sight was just as he had witnessed the day prior but now it wasn’t water kissing her skin it was the yellow shade of flames that were burning on the fireplace. She must have felt uncomfortable since he was staring and soundless, she moved her arms and covered her breast. “Please don’t.” He said and moved so he could sit in the middle of the bed. He kissed her collarbone and above each of her breasts. “You’re so beautiful.” He said between kisses, his hands moving to her hips toward her ass.

“I’m at a disadvantage.” She murmured trying to pull his tunic shirt off of him, desiring to feel his heated bare skin against her own.

He did so removing it, while he used his arms to pull the fabric off she touched his chest completely amazed but every inch of skin and every scar that embellished there. He discarded the tunic at the floor and grabbed her head and pulling her lips against his own. “Björn.” She moaned.

He moved their bodies so he would be above her. Her hair was splattered in the soft furs of the pillows, her nipples perky asking for attention.

He kissed her neck and made a kiss trial up her earlobe, she moaned and imperceptibly placed one of her legs around his waist, soaking wet his breeches with her wetness in the process.

He looked down feeling how she was softly grinding in his legs searching for friction. He smiled and kissed her mouth again. She moaned how good it felt when he moved his leg. He sat on the bed and took the breeches off and slid down kissing her legs until he met her crotch and kissed the area around. “Is that your first time?” He asked between kisses and little sucks on her thighs.

She just nodded biting her lip and placed her hand on his head, he murmured in the thought of being the first man to please her, and if the Gods bless him enough he will surely be the last.

After Björn’s ministrations that let the poor girl gasping for air, he decided to finish the deed. He got his hard prick in his hand and played on her labia making she whimper out of the sensitive. Björn as every Viking got an insatiable desire and was used to grab his women and fuck them into oblivious really roughly, but Y/N is special and he didn’t want to her first time be rough. Once he heard some slaves complaining about how men were a lot ignorant and he didn’t want his wife-to-be with that idea.

“Björn, please… do something.” She said and squeezed his back muscles trying to feel a piece of him. “Be gentle.” She groaned.

He nodded and entered his warm member insider her wet cunt he stood unmovable pinning her underneath him trying to make her get used to his size, he groaned and tried to think about anything else than her warm walls squeezing him, it was her first time, he didn’t want to cum before her. He moved inch by inch until he filled his entire cock inside her. “That is love, it’s all of me.” He said in a raspy voice and kissed her neck.

Y/N was shocked about how it felt and also was in a bit of pain, his kisses helped her a little and when he started to move his hips even so slowly the pain started to subsidize.

A few minutes passed until the pain was replaced by pure pleasure, something so good that she cursed the Gods for not sending Björn sooner to her life.

Björn was lightheaded by the overwhelmed feeling of her squeezing him, he didn’t recall feeling such a pleasure before.

Minutes passed and kisses, bites, moans filled the place. Their bodies starting to sweat if it wasn’t so cold outside, the pace was faster and Björn’s hips were slamming against her.

“Oh Y/N.” He moaned, she started to feel something on her belly and that was splattering to all her body. “You’re squeezing me so good love.” He moaned, his hand left her hip and enters in between their bodies and he started to make circles on her clit, he just saw how weak it had made her when his mouth was pleasuring her that he thought that just maybe doing that he would increase her pleasure. She moaned and bit his shoulder to contain her screams. Björn liked the feeling of her marking him and felt his own release coming, he took it off rather fast and coated her belly with his cum, white ribbons splattered on her delicate skin.

Both stood there laid and regaining their breaths. Björn moved his body and propped his weight on his elbow, his other hand going to caress her flushed cheek. “Dear Y/N.”

She smiled and kissed his palm effectively. He looked at her belly and stood up to grab a fabric and clean her up.

He opened her legs starting there to clean her juices and the blood droplets it had appeared when he broke her hymen. He turned the fabric to the other side and cleaned his release out of her belly.

He stood up and cleaned his own prick and throw the fabric somewhere in the room. He laid by her side facing her and couldn’t stop to caress her beautiful hair. “Will you marry me Y/N? Will you be my partner in adventures, travels, battles? The good and the bad times?”

She smiled and bit her lower lip. “Yes Björn Ragnarson, I will marry you.” She said and he smiled with an ear to ear smile, he kissed her with passion and when he realized she was on top of him. She felt his prick straying to harden. “Not today love, I don’t believe I can do again.”

“Don’t worry wife, we will have our whole life ahead.” He said with a sparkle in his blue eyes.

She looked at him surprised by the name, it sort of fits her for him. Not for anyone else, just for him. “Wife? We aren’t even married yet.” She placed her head on his chest and interlaced her arms on his torso, caging him. “Actually I had heard so many stories of pretty men that come to foreign lands conquering young girl’s hearts and leaving them pregnant.” She laughed. “But you asked me in marriage afterward so I guess I can’t be titled as one of these poor ladies.” She said but her heart worries about the idea of waking up and Björn be away.

“You sure can’t.” He assured and kissed her head. “And besides I didn’t seed you so you won’t get a baby in a few moons. I mean, not now at least.”

“So are we talking about a child now?”

“Of course, I see my children in your eyes, love.” He said truthfully.

“You already had children, don’t you? With another woman.”

He nodded. “I do, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to mine with you. And I know it must be hard to be with someone that already have children but I can’t ignore them.”

“I would never ask that. A man that doesn’t love their children can never be a real man.” She said and he felt a relief with her words. “Okay sir, but before we need to talk with father and well… see if he will manage to survive without me here.” She said and started to worry.

“I have a feeling that your father will agree with this marriage, and you don’t have to stay here for him, you need to live your own life. And I will be flattered if you allow me to be by your side.”

“Of course I allow that,” She said and kissed the side of his mouth. “But don’t get surprised when you realize I’m a better warrior than you.” She said and he shook his head.

“Is that so?” He started to tickle her. It got on until she was crying of so much laughter and desperation. He pinned her body and kissed her temple. “If we are such good warriors and Vikings, I can only believe we will have a huge path ahead of us.”

“We surely will.” She said and caresses his face. “We will be unbeatable!”

“We will conquer the world, my love, together.” He kissed her and spent the night embracing her. Finally feeling like he found someone he could be himself and conquer his dreams with, well, their dreams side by side. Definitely an answer from all the prayers he had made to the Gods. Somehow an answer to his litany.

…

#bjorn x reader #bjorn ironside x reader

187 notes · View notes

babbushka · 5 years

Text

Beautiful, Beloved (1/8)

You had met three times: The first, an introduction. The second, a lunch. The third, your wedding. Can bonds be made in such short a time as a week long honeymoon aboard the immensely impressive RMS Titanic?

Yes, yes they can.

Kylo Ren x Reader

Word Count: 4400

Warnings: NSFW

Also available on AO3!

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

You had met him three times in total.

The first had been an introduction. The second, a luncheon. The third was today, your wedding.

You never imagined being married, let alone married to a stranger.

Of course that was a silly thought to be had, because of course you would need to marry – but something about actually holding the title was a feeling you for some reason had never imagined.

Lady Ren. How thrilling, you thought with a smile.

There certainly were worse strangers to be married to, you thought.

Your smile turned to an expression of mild panic as you tightened your grip on your newly wedded husband’s arm, the car making a sharp left turn out of the blue. His gloved hand rested gently on your arm, gave it a reassuring pat.

“I think that went rather well, don’t you?” Lord Ren, your newly wedded husband offered dryly.

The two of you were seated in the back of a brand-new automobile, a wedding present from your in-laws.

It was the new model of Rolls Royce, something called the silver ghost. Aptly named, for the sunlight glittered off the highly polished exterior and the engine was the softest you had heard yet.

The mechanic drove well, although you were still suspicious of the machinery. The clean streets of the city gave way to beautifully manicured parks and gardens as the world zipped past, making the journey from your wedding venue to the place you would call home forever.

You tore your eyes away from the blur of trees and pavement to Lord Ren, who was referring to the wedding no doubt.

It had gone off without a hitch, a beautiful afternoon ceremony as was fashionable for the day. Your dress remained crisp and clean the whole way through, and all the guests left well fed. It was a long wedding, but a pleasant one, the only tears that were shed were those of happiness.

“Yes, I think so too.” You nodded, holding on as the car made another turn.

“No one was punched, anyway.” Lord Ren muttered, seemingly under his breath.

“Punched?” You asked with eyebrows raised, amused.

“A fist-fight broke out at my parent’s wedding. My uncle had to step in and break it up; so I’d say we’re already doing better than them.” Lord Ren ran a hand through his hair, unusually long for societal standards.

You found that you liked that about him, his deviancy.

“May I ask who was fighting whom?” You hedged, not wanting to overstep.

“My father, and the man who had come to collect his debts.” Lord Ren replied, surprisingly unashamed.

“What a scandal!” You couldn’t help but laugh, “Who won?”

“My father did. I’m surprised you never read of it in the papers.” Lord Ren regarded you with something akin to warmth, tucked a stray hair underneath your veil from where the wind had pulled it free.

You lingered on the moment, already feeling yourself grow fond for this man. Perhaps he wouldn’t be a stranger for long.

“I’m afraid I don’t have much time for reading the news, my charity work keeps me busy.” You admitted.

You hoped that wouldn’t be an issue, your charity work. You took a great deal of pride in it, and had no intention of reigning in your efforts for the eradication of child labor, and the education of young lower class girls.

You had heard much about Lord Ren’s politics, and you knew him to be quite a charitable man as well, albeit one with a more…explosive reputation.

“Not too busy that I won’t see hide nor hair of you, I hope.” He surprised you with his gentleness, how reserved he was.

This did not look like the man who angrily drew his sword and held it to the throats of barons, who threw large tantrums and shattered antiques with ease when a letter came bearing bad news, who once choked a poor footman near-half to death -- as the stories went.

You had been afraid at first, when your parents announced the plans for you to marry such a man.

You were worried that he would be unkind towards you, or distant altogether. An heir and a spare, as they said. You had been assured that taking a lover was perfectly acceptable once the children had been born and the inheritance would have a viable heir to go to, but something in you spoke loudly, wanting to love the man you married. Everyone called you a romantic.

Everyone said there was no place for romance in marriage. You had intended to prove them wrong.

So when it was announced that Lord Kylo Ren was to be man, you suddenly grew unsure. He was a man with a reputation. People feared him, you did not want to fear him too.

Lord Ren looked intimidating, you had to admit, what with his entirely black ensemble and large scar that adorned his face. You understood how it could be so easy to fear him, this appearance combined with the personality that was so heavily gossiped about.

Perhaps it was this combination that he was working to counter-act; being ever so slightly more careful, as to not scare you.

The thought, however true or false it may be, made you warm.

“I should ask the same of you.” You said, as the automobile slowed.

Lord Ren smiled when you did not immediately remove your arm from his, content to leave it there as the grand entryway of the estate came into view.

“We’re here, ready to see your new home?” He asked you, and you nodded.

“Close your eyes.” He said, and you did, keeping them shut as you felt the engine putter underneath you.

Only a few moments later did Lord Ren carefully, ever so gently, remove your satin gloved hands from your face, giving you the hint to open your eyes.

The estate was, in a word, extravagant.

The land and gardens were a sight to behold, lush greenery that felt almost like a painting -- grass could certainly not be so green! But the house itself, was a sight to behold all on its own.

It was a beautiful shade of yellow, like that of freshly churned butter, or daffodils. It seemed to stretch on forever, at least three stories tall. There was even a circular tower near the front, you hoped it sported views of the pond just across, where swans leisurely floated atop crystal clear waters. You wondered if the estate had a rowboat, or if one could be purchased.

The automobile came to a halt just outside the grand courtyard, where the mechanic put the car in park. The entire staff was lined up outside to greet you and your husband, a footman hurried to open the door for you.

“Lord and Lady Ren, welcome home.” A man whom you assumed to be the butler greeted you, as the line of staff bowed or curtsied.

“Oh it’s gorgeous!” You replied, gratefully taking the butler’s hand and stepping down from the Rolls Royce, eager to stretch your legs after the nearly hour long journey from the city.

“Do you like it? I had it built especially for you, I tried to emulate the countryside with the landscaping.” Lord Ren joined you and stood by your side, careful not to step on your train or veil.

“Just for me?” You asked in return, eyes widening at the beauty and sheer newness of the house. It must have only just finished being constructed, there was no trace of dirt or wear on the yellow brick.

“Yes, I didn’t want you to feel like you had to conform to my estate.” Lord Ren replied.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re incredibly considerate?” You asked, a rhetorical question.

“No, they certainly haven’t.” He answered anyway.

You smiled, you were happy to be the first.

The inside of the house was just as magnificent as the outside, perhaps even more-so. Everything was so light, windows as tall as you were with open curtains allowed sunshine to pour into the rooms.

All the furniture was painted a light brown, with cream or ivory or golden upholstery to match the beautifully papered walls. Crystal chandeliers reflected light which bounced around the room through freshly polished mirrors, little rainbows dancing across the vases and various ornaments.

Portrait paintings hung on the walls in large ornate frames that reminded you very much of the Louvre. Pity the French couldn’t maintain their monarchy, you thought with the smallest of laughs.

“Can we go to the bedroom?” You asked, boldly.

Lord Ren quirked a smile, and nodded, leading you down a set of corridors and hallways.

The bedroom was small, and you liked that. Liked that it meant you could be closer to your husband, should you both be in the room at the same time.

The walls were a beautiful camel color, with decorative crown molding that ran the perimeter of the ceiling. They were papered in an ornate filigree style, and thoughtfully covered with old paintings. You wondered who the people in the paintings were, if they were relatives, or just purchased for their aesthetic value.

There were large windows and desks which faced them, a beautiful rug that must have come from Persia if the weaving was anything to go by, but most impressive of all was the bed.

It wasn’t a very wide bed, but that you didn’t mind. You envisioned many nights spent pressed against your husband, if he were amicable towards such a thing. You would soon find out, you supposed, as the sun was already beginning to dip below the rolling hills of the horizon.

The bed was a canopy, with thick golden curtains that were drawn – for the time being. You took a step towards them, ran your fingers over the fabric. It was velvet, with a pressed satin design which matched the wallpaper. It seemed as though Lord Ren had a very developed eye for decoration, you thought, letting your fingers run through the satin fringe that lined the curtains.

The sheets were the softest of cottons, pure white. You couldn’t wait to muss them.

Your husband stepped behind you, placed a hand on your waist. It was so large, warm. Even through the layers of your clothing you could feel the heat radiating off of him.

“Lord Ren – ” You started, turning around only to have him shake his head.

“Please, (Y/N), call me Kylo.” He interrupted softly, making you blush.

You didn’t know when the last time someone other than your parents called you by your first name was.

“Kylo,” You rectified, “Are you happy? With this arrangement, I mean.”

He looked at you for a little while, sun shining in his incredibly brown eyes. You wondered what he was thinking, what was going through his mind.

He carefully took one of your hands and placed the palm against his cheek, the one free of the scar. You furrowed your brow slightly, removed your hand, only to replace it with your other one. You cupped his other cheek, not minding in the slightest how the scar rippled and puckered the skin there.

“Yes, I daresay I am.” He said, his eyes searching yours. “Are you?”

“Yes, I am.” You nodded, sparing a glance down to his lips.

You hadn’t done much kissing, but you thought if ever there were a pair of lips to practice on, these were them. Kylo’s lips were so full, plush. They had a natural redness to them that made you wonder if he had spent his youth biting them to make them so pigmented.

Kylo’s own hand mirrored yours as he gently held your face and pressed his lips to yours. The first kiss outside of your wedding, and it was magical in its innocence.

It did not, however, remain innocent, as only mere moments passed before Kylo’s tongue was pressing against the seam of your lips, your mouth yielding to him, opening for him. You could feel your pulse quicken, and it suddenly seemed stifling, so hot in your dress. You wondered if Kylo was burning up as well.

“They’ll be waiting, won’t they?” Kylo said, breaking the kiss. He leaned his forehead against your own, and you nodded.

“Yes, they will. We’d do best to not disappoint them, wouldn’t you say?” You asked with the hint of a tease to your tone, licking your lips, already feeling the goosebumps down your arms.

“I’ve wanted this for a long time.” Kylo quirked the smallest of smiles, ran his hands down your sides.

“I know we know very little of one another, but please know this: I won’t ever keep you in suspense.” You said, daring to press the words into the skin of his neck, leaving a kiss there before pulling away.

“Good, I don’t like to wait.” Kylo replied, heat in his eyes.

You grinned.

You had never seen such a sculpted body as your husbands, but you would have a chance to marvel once the heat of your clothing was removed from your own body.

Getting Kylo out of his clothes was a fast affair.

Getting you out of yours, however, was slightly more laborious.

You sweetened the deal with a kiss, the sliding of your tongue against his spurred his hands.

Wasn’t the wedding night supposed to be a passionate affair? How could anyone get away with such a thing when there required at least ten minutes of unlacing and unhooking?

He first began by unclasping your belt and deftly unbuttoning the front of your dress bodice, sliding that and the jacket off of your shoulders, the both of you watching as it fluttered gracefully to the floor.

The skirt, a light petticoat, and all your underclothes remained, and Kylo just had to take a break to kiss you.

“I’ll never understand why there are so many layers.” Kylo grumbled as he carefully removed your corset cover, making you laugh so much that his hands stilled in shock.

“I’m sorry! Please don’t stop,” You said in a fit of giggles, “It’s just, neither will I.” You smiled up at him, earning a smile back.

You let out a sigh of relief when the corset came off, Kylo carefully plucking the strings away. It was never too tight of course, the hysteria and trends of tight-lacing long gone, but still, there was something so refreshing about letting yourself loose after a long day.

Down to your chemise, drawers and stockings, Kylo took a step back, kneeling before you.

His eye contact was smoldering, as he lifted the chemise enough to snap off the garters that held the stockings up. He took care to unlace the tie holding up your drawers, letting the cotton fall to the floor.

Your cunt throbbed, the wetness between your legs slippery. Kylo was handsome, kneeling there in front of you, his bare chest and hard cock on display.

You liked that he was hard, liked that he wanted you, really wanted you.

“Let me see you?” He asked, and your hands shook with eager anticipation as you pulled the chemise over your head, letting it fall as well.

Finally, you removed the pins that held your hair up, let it fall down with everything else. This act, letting your hair down, felt like the most intimate thing you had ever done.

You were completely on display for him, nipples hardening against the fresh air, stomach tensed with a nervousness reserved for a first fuck such as this.

“You’re gorgeous.” He licked his lips, hands twitching, wanting to touch you. You wanted nothing more than just that.

You walked backwards to the bed, stopping only when the backs of your knees hit the mattress.

Kylo was on you in an instant, finally finally finally able to get his hands on your skin.

He kissed and kissed you, mouth hot and incessant, pressing against your lips, your throat, your shoulders. His hands, large as they were, spanned across your breasts with ease, and he gave them a strong squeeze, pinched at those nipples of yours that were begging for attention.

He laid you down, settled himself on top of you, your legs parting for him so easily. You couldn’t help but grin, feeling the thrill of the moment. Your stomach was doing flips, like how it would on an automobile driving too quickly. You never wanted him to pump the brakes.

“Kylo, please.” You whined, wanting to feel him already.

“Not yet, I’ve got to get you ready for me.” He kissed your face, bit at your jaw just the slightest amount. It wouldn’t do to have marks on your skin, at least where they could be seen.

You were grateful for the high collars of fashionable dress.

“But – ” You protested with a frown, you wanted to feel him, all of him, right down to that cock of his that was poking and prodding at your stomach as he kneaded your chest.

“You see this?” He sat back on his heels, dipping the mattress.

You were laid on your back by now, on top of the covers, lace pillows propping up your head.

He took his dick in his hand, stroked it. You nodded, you did see it, you saw all of it, your mouth watering from it.

You rose onto all fours, crawled to where he kneeled.

“I see it.” You swallowed.

He his lip and nodded, a hand guiding the back of your head forward, until you were close enough to lick a stripe up the shaft, making him take in a sharp breath.

“There’ll be plenty of time for that,” Kylo said, pulling his cock away much to your disapproval, “I’ve got to prepare you, and fast, or I might just come all over these perfect tits of yours.”

“Would that be such a shame?” You asked, making him grin.

“Let me at least come in you first.” He reasoned, and you sighed dramatically, laying on your back theatrically.

From this view, you could see the blotches of flush blooming on his chest – and how muscular it was! You knew that the physique was undesirable for men of his status, but you couldn’t help but grow ever more wet for him, the way his abs flexed under his smooth skin.

The scar traveled down his face and shoulders onto his chest, shiny and white, long healed.

You didn’t give any more thought to it as his fingers wasted little time sliding between your legs, the tips just barely grazing your folds.

He looked to you, cock dripping and hanging heavy between his legs, and you nodded, wanting to hurry the process along, desperately wanting to feel how full this would make you.

His fingers were thick, and when he thrust them into your cunt you let out a long oh at the feeling.

“Relax for me.” He murmured, his hair falling into his face.

You dropped your hips, not realizing how tense you had made them just out of sheer desperation. He bent down to kiss you, a droplet of sweat landing on your cheek, as he took advantage of your calm and pushed those fingers into you some more.

“Please Kylo, I can’t take much more of this.” You begged, and he huffed, clearly wanting to spend more time than you did with his fingers up your cunt, but he gave you what you wanted as he pulled away.

“If it’s too much, you tell me, okay?” He asked, and you nodded, eager, so eager.

Your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of him lining himself up, the head of his cock parting your lips and sinking into you.

“Yes!” you gasped, head thrown back as he pulled you down the mattress by your hips, pulling you onto his cock.

“God damn,” Kylo breathed out, pushing his way into you further and further. “You’re so tight.”

“You’re so big!” You replied, making him laugh. You liked the sound of his laugh.

“I fucking told you, didn’t I?” He grinned up at you, eyes going glassy as his hips slowly started thrusting, trying to get deeper and deeper and deeper into you.

“Yeah, you did, come on give me more.” You encouraged, lifting your legs and wrapping them around his hips.

It felt so natural, so good, and you moaned, embarrassingly loud noises coming from your throat as he fucked you well and true.

His cock seemed to go on forever, and by the time he had managed to open you up all the way, slide his cock as deep into you as it could go, you were both panting from the exertion.

You held onto him, his shoulders, gripped at his back as he had to plant one of his feet on the floor to give himself the proper leverage to fuck you.

You latched your mouth to his neck, sucked and kissed there as you clenched around him, wanting to make this feel just as good for him as it did for you. You couldn’t believe how much the both of you were sweating, the noises that you were making.

Kylo was grunting like he was in pain, his face pinched up, mouth open. You kissed him, your hands groping his strong pectorals, pinching at his own nipples. You figured if it felt so good for you, it’d feel good for him too.

He let out a long low groan when you did that, reaching up to tweak one of yours playfully in return.

“Kylo!” You cried his name, and he did his best to fuck you and kiss you at the same time. “I’m going to – ”

He cut you off with a kiss. He was tall, you hadn’t realized how that might pose a problem; the poor man had to bend himself down just to reach your lips as his hips pistoned into you.

“Me too, just a minute longer.” He asked, and you nodded, tried your best.

His hips grew more and more erratic, his grip on your waist bruising. He was almost white-knuckled, fingers leaving a print when he pulled on away to reach down to your pussy, push between your folds and find your clit.

When he did, he rolled it between his fingers, making you shout out and come, your cunt clamping down around his cock, come gushing and making the most obscene of sounds. You felt like you were on top of the world, all of the nerves in your body alight with pleasure; you couldn’t stop crying out his name, a chant of Kylo spilling from your lips.

“Oh shit!” Kylo gasped as he ground his hips as far into you as they could go, bordering just shy of painful.

You had to wiggle and lift your hips to get a better angle, only allowing him to pump his come deeper into you. You could feel it, you swore you could, how hot it was, coursing through you.

Finally, it seemed like all the tension in his shoulders melted away, and he collapsed on top of you, crushing you under his chest from his height.

“Was it good?” Kylo asked, panted.

“Yes,” You replied with a hazy smile, “I’m going to want this all the time.”

“We’ll make the family very happy then,” Kylo smiled back, “All the heirs we’re going to have.”

You just laughed, and despite his hardened exterior, he laughed too.

Kylo pulled out eventually, fascinated by the sight of his come slowly dripping out of you. He pushed it back in before wiping his hand on the sheets, making you smile.

“Are you hungry?” He asked, even as he rubbed his cheek on your breast, settled his face down there against your skin, nose prodding your softened nipple.

He got comfortable, and you gently brushed his hair out of your face, combed your fingers through it. It was silky and soft, albeit a little wet from sweat.

“No, I’m still stuffed from the dinner.” You replied, and he hummed.

Kylo wedged a hand under your back, holding you.

The sun had officially gone below the horizon, and night time had arrived. You didn’t think you had ever seen this many stars, through the great big windows just opposite the bed.

In the light of the moon, Kylo’s back shone with cooling sweat. You traced patterns across the skin there with the lightest of touches.

“You’re not like anything I thought you’d be.” You admitted with a yawn.

“And what was that?” He asked, voice muffled by your skin.

“When your name is spoken, people tend to recoil in fear. I find nothing frightening about you.” You combed through his hair, pushed it back away from his face and neck, exposing an ear.

It was big, just like the rest of him. You gave it a gentle squeeze, and he huffed, clearly self-conscious.

“Careful now, it’s only been one day.” He hummed, before snuffling and breathing in your scent. “I could get used to this.”

“You can have me whenever you’d like, provided just one thing.” You mused.

“What’s that?” He left his other hand lightly squeeze at your other breast, the one he wasn’t currently using as a pillow.

“I get to have you whenever I’d like.” You grinned, and his shoulders shook with a gentle laugh.

“I think I can manage that.” He nodded, kissing your sternum. “I imagine I’d like to have you all over our rooms on our honeymoon.”

The honeymoon!

“Would you believe I completely forgot we were going on such a trip?” You thought out loud, making him chuckle. He was exceptionally affectionate, you were coming to find. “Do you mind me asking where we’ll be going? I’d like to pack accordingly.”

“I wanted it to be a surprise.” He replied, but you were having none of that.

“Please?” You tried, feeling quite victorious when he let out a resigned sigh.

“Have you heard of the Titanic?” He asked, lifting his head and regarding you with a smile.

You were stunned, not knowing what to expect, but certainly not expecting that.

A surprise indeed.

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

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! My apologies for it being so short, the future chapters to come will be much longer!

Tag list for some pals (please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the list!) @adamsnackdriver @dreamboatdriver @kyloxfem @imaginedreamwrite

#reader insert #kylo ren x reader #kylo x reader #historically accurate au #titanic au #my writing #beautiful beloved

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kairi-chan · 5 years

Text

I Got You (XXX) - BoruSara

Title: Face the Music

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Rating: T

Beta read by: @sandpancakecat

With her bag in hand, she stood outside the big brown door, waiting. She pushed the doorbell and fidgeted with her bag's strap. It wasn’t like her to be this restless, but after the events that happened in the last two days, she couldn’t help it. She rang the bell again, with more force this time.

Still, no one came.

Her face started to feel hot and tears pricked at her eyes. Why was she even crying? What was the point? Didn’t she bring this unto herself? Sarada gritted her teeth and rang the bell again, letting out a short, and exasperated shout. She took in a deep breath, and the tears began to fall down her face. She furiously wiped at them, refusing to let her emotions get the better of her at this moment.

“Sarada?”

She looked up, and through tear flooded eyes, she was met with her uncle’s concerned face.

Sarada dropped her bag and clung onto his waist, face wet with tears, and staining his shirt. Her uncle didn’t say a word. He only placed a soothing hand on her back and allowed her to cry. Soft footsteps came from behind him, Itachi looked back, and he held a finger to his lips.

Shisui read the situation and took a few steps back as Itachi carefully walked backward, letting him and Sarada into the house. Shisui quietly walked around them and picked her bags up and closed the door. He mouthed to Itachi, “I’ll make some tea.” To which Itachi nodded in thanks. He was now rubbing her back in a calming up and down motion. “Do you want to sit down?”

She shook her head and clung on tighter. The corner of Itachi’s lips quirked up. She was behaving much like she did when she was much younger, back when Sasuke would scold her for eating sweets before dinner and Sarada would temporarily hate him for it and seek refuge with her uncle. The one who would secretly give her a sweet or two to calm her down, but explain why her father would deny her of a treat. Although this time, he imagined the reason for her tears were far more rattling than being denied a piece of candy.

. . . Sarada sat on the couch with her feet tucked under her, a fluffy blanket draped on her shoulders. A hot cup of tea warmed her hands. It was a little too hot, but she was just thankful she could feel anything at all.

Her two uncles were quietly whispering in the kitchen, surely speculating what might have happened to her. Or worse, called her mother already. But knowing uncle Itachi, and seeing how distraught she was, surely he wouldn’t call Sakura immediately. The reason why she came to him, out of all the people on her contact list, was because she trusted him enough to know that he wouldn’t jump into hasty conclusions and act accordingly without verifying facts and analyzing the situation.

Her uncle Shisui though…

“We should call Sakura,” Shisui whispered, worry lacing his voice and making his brows knit together. “She would kill us if we didn’t let her know she was here.”

“Sarada is safe,” Itachi sipped his tea calmly. “She needs time to herself.”

Shisui pursed his lips. He couldn’t argue with both those points… but it would only be a matter of time before Sakura starts calling everyone in search for her only daughter. And if Sasuke hears about Sarada missing… “Yeah, okay. I’m keeping my phone off, and I’m going to leave this to you.” He sighed and handed his phone to Itachi, who only smirked in response.

“I’m going to head out and buy some ingredients. I’ll cook us up a good dinner.”

“Impossible,” Itachi teased. “We both know I will be doing the cooking.”

Shisui rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Just let me get out of here so you can do your thing? I’ll take my sweet time, but I’m guessing like, thirty minutes tops. So…” He pointed towards the living room. “Do it.”

Itachi finished sipping his tea and Shisui grabbed the house keys. He looked at Sarada as he walked out and offered her a weak smile before leaving. Itachi placed his empty teacup down on the table and walked over. He approached her carefully, eyeing the teacup in her hands, still full and no longer steaming, and waited patiently. After a few moments, she looked at him, and then down on the couch. He took this as permission to sit, so he did. Keeping his distance, he stared ahead, just waiting and allowing Sarada to get used to his presence. He would not speak, not unless she wished for him to.

The time stretched on, but Itachi didn’t mind. He would wait for as long as Sarada needed to open up. Even if Shisui came through that door and finished cooking dinner, if she wasn’t ready to speak, he would still not say anything. If she needed to stay for a week, he would prepare the guest room for her and allow her to extend for as long as she needed. She’s a strong girl, and he has never seen her as troubled as she is now.

Although he had an inkling of what was going on, Itachi did not want to judge and jump to a conclusion just yet. From the corner of his eye, he noticed her shoulders shake… Was she… holding back tears? This made Itachi frown. Surely, Sarada knew she could cry in his home, in his presence. He had never reprimanded her for shedding a tear at any little thing, be it a show or when her pet cat died. Slowly, he stretched his hand towards her and left his palm facing up.

Sarada looked at his hand, and then at his face. Itachi wasn’t looking at her, and she knew his outstretched hand was an offer for comfort, and not to pressure her. They had been sitting in silence for more than twenty minutes, and he hasn’t said a word or moved. She took his hand he squeezed. Her heart tightened and she bit her lower lip. She lifted her gaze and looked at him. Itachi had a kind smile on his face.

“Uncle Itachi…” her voice shook. “I think… I think I… I’m so confused.”

He hummed. “Would you like to speak about it?”

“I don’t…” her voice was so small and she averted her gaze, but squeezed his hand. “I don’t even know what to say. I just… I don’t want to hurt him.”

Itachi nodded thoughtfully. It was like her to think of others before herself, but he wanted to know more. And so, he waited some more, still holding on to her small hand.

She laughed bitterly. “I don’t even know who I’m talking about anymore. I feel like I did something bad. I might have. But I really didn’t mean to… while I was with Kagura-kun, I could only think of…”

Itachi kept his face impassive, but his mind was racing. It seemed like Sarada was coming closer to the conclusion, but she was still denying it, avoiding the truth like the plague, out of her fear, and perhaps… out of shame. She’s a smart girl, she already knew. But she still held herself back. He chewed on his lower lip, contemplating if saying it bluntly was really what she needed right now. Perhaps if she asked…

“Uncle Itachi, I don’t know anymore…”

Aha. Close enough.

“You already know it, Sarada. But I will say it anyway... You cheated on Kagura.”

She froze. Perhaps it was tough to hear, but who else would she hear it from? He waited again and allowed his words to sink in. “N-no… I--I didn’t I just…” she bit her lip.

Denial was a step, but letting her linger here for long wasn’t going to be good now, was it? But still, he didn’t say a word. It was better to let her come to the realization herself, and to justify--or accept--whatever it is that she had been doing. Itachi was not a direct witness to her relationships, but deducing from social media, some of Sarada’s random text rants, and coffee updates that he got from Sakura (sometimes through Izumi) were enough pieces of information for him. He never liked to assume--and never did--but he would be lying if he said he did not have his own predictions and opinions about his niece’s... love life.

Although he knew it was a possibility, he did not enjoy seeing her in tears on his doorstep, and now the conflict racing through her mind was all too clear in her big, dark eyes. He bit his lower lip and squeezed her hand. Maybe he was too direct… This wasn’t Sasuke, after all. Perhaps the tough love he gave his little brother did not bode too well with his niece… But Sarada was tough, and she was still an Uchiha. She had enough grit and she was smart. She would get out of this funk, and make the right decision.

Her shoulders shook, and salty tears streamed down her face. She rubbed at them and sniffed. Even if it was hard. Even if it meant breaking her own heart. Sarada would do what’s right.

“I’m sorry…” she whispered. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen…” her sobs grew louder, and he pulled her into his arms, into a warm embrace. Nope, definitely not the approach he ever gave Sasuke. Sometimes he thought Sasuke wouldn’t be so… quiet if he was softer on him. But seeing as how he’s doing now, Itachi still thinks he did okay. And hearing that Sarada apologized, she was doing far better than his little brother did at her age. After all, Sasuke only ever apologized to Sakura.

She cried more, and Itachi held her. Sarada was sputtering words and instances that didn’t really make total sense to Itachi, but he felt better knowing that she was letting her feelings out and that she was now fully grasping the situation, what her role was in this, and what she needed to do. Her phone laid discarded on the coffee table, and despite it vibrating with calls and texts, they both ignored it. Even when Shisui came back with groceries, and started to clank around in the kitchen, they both paid no mind to it. . . . To say that dinner was an awkward affair was a fucking understatement. Shisui had a hard time swallowing his steak, despite it being cooked to pink perfection. And this was probably what, the third time he choked on his peas? Neither Sarada nor Itachi batted an eye about it, though. He didn’t know if he was supposed to be thankful or not. After a sip of water, and clearing his throat, the silence came back. Itachi ate normally as if nothing was wrong. He even dared to have a small smile on his face, as if he was really enjoying his steak!

Sarada barely touched her food. It was understandable. But when Itachi rose and placed a slice of molten chocolate cake in front of her, she dug in. Itachi also placed a glass of cool milk next to her water, and she picked it up the moment he placed it down.

Ah right. Sarada inherited Itachi and Sakura’s sweet tooth. Shisui smirked remembering how disappointed Sasuke was when he learned his little angel hated tomatoes--his absolute favorite--but indulged in sweets, just as much as his wife and older brother did.

Tough luck, Sasuke.

Shisui could finally enjoy his steak. He started cutting a piece and plopped it in his mouth as he watched Itachi and Sarada, enjoying their cake. Their lips slightly curled upward as they finished the delectable dessert. Shisui and Sarada’s eyes met. He gave her an encouraging smile, and she returned it with a small one. The way her eyes shone made Shisui perk up.

“Thank you, uncle Itachi,” she looked at him, and then turned back to face her other uncle, “uncle Shisui. I… I know I did something wrong, and I hurt a lot of people…”

Understatement, Shisui thought. But kept his mouth shut, as Itachi was giving him a pointed stare.

“I need to own up to it, and right my wrongs even if…” she looked down. “Even if it’ll hurt.”

Shisui bit his lower lip and looked at her, and then back at Itachi, who only nodded.

Sarada lifted her head up, and the fire was burning in her eyes. “I have to fix this, and I will.”

Shisui gulped, but a wide grin slowly spread across his face. Atta girl. It’s tough, and hard to do, but that’s exactly why Sarada knew she had to do it. No more running away, no more denying.

It was time to face the music, and she was gonna rock this.

A/N: It’s about time we crawled out of this messy and totally avoidable problem. Itachi, as my wonderful beta reader has put it, is the only one with a brain cell around here. And I couldn’t agree more. I have the next chapters outlined, and will be starting on writing them soon! I also have a Halloween special lined up for this fic. I’m so excited to share it with you! :)

If you like what I write, and want to read more, please do check out my #fanfiction tag. I also have links to my Master Post, ff.net, Ao3, Twitter, and Ko-Fi.

Thank you for reading and write on, darling.

#borusara #borusara fic #borusara fanfiction #fanfiction #boruto fanfiction #sarada #sarada uchiha #boruto #boruto uzumaki #borusara fics #IGY #i got you #college au #borusara college au #borusara IGY #itachi #itachi uchiha #shisui #shisui uchiha

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sandershospitalau · 5 years

Text

Lockdown (Part 3)

Part 1 Part 2 Archive Of Our Own

Warnings: mentions of war, panic attack, arguing, quarantine, medical stuff

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Four hours after quarantine.

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VIRGE (sent 10:22 PM):

Appendicitis? Are you sure?

ME (sent 10:22 PM):

all the tests confirm it. we're planning on removing it soon.

VIRGE (sent 10:23 PM):

Do you have enough supplies for a safe removal? Blood, the right medication?

ME (sent 10:25 PM):

the cdc is gonna get some more blood (we're a bit low with what we can access), laparoscopy equipment, and everything else we can think of that we don't have through the quarantine, but it might take a while. we only just got dinner.

VIRGE (sent 10:25 PM):

What did you get?

ME (sent 10:26 PM):

turkey sandwiches or pbjs, oranges, chips, and water. a few special dishes for a muslim couple and someone with a nut allergy.

VIRGE (sent 10:26 PM):

Are you in quarantine or at summer camp?

ME (sent 10:26 PM):

XD how's the drive?

VIRGE (sent 10:27 PM):

Quiet so far. Traffic's cleared out. Emile's playing the Spiderverse soundtrack. It's actually pretty good. Everyone ok down there?

Patton sent Virgil a thumbs-up emoji, followed by a smiling cat face. He sat on an unused bed sitting near the isolated observation room. His head leaned against the window looking into the room. His legs dangled off the bed, softly kicking back and forth. A brown paper bag laid beside him, its contents spilling onto the covers. Patton stuck his hands into the small chip bag and stuffed a handful of chips into his mouth.

"Is our knight in dark armor doing well?" Roman asked through a mouthful of turkey. He sat criss-cross on the floor across from Patton. His lunch sat in his lap. Nate sat beside him, staring at the ED behind his sunglasses. One hand tugged at his long hair while the other peeled his orange. Logan had pulled up a chair from his desk and ate using the bed as a table. Most of the ED's patients and visitors had tried to get some sleep, but everyone woke up for a chance at a meal. The Ceballos twins pelted each other with orange peels. The Yakimovs and McCallums, released from their makeshift cell, crowded around their daughters.

"They're on their way," Patton reported, setting down his phone.

"Patton, Roman, after you finish eating, perhaps you should find a place to sleep," Logan suggested. He spun the cap off his water and took a long drink. "I can awaken you when the situation develops." Patton hid a grin with another mouthful of chips. Logan had finally let go of the professional titles he was so strict about using at the hospital. It probably wouldn't last long, but Patton would enjoy it for however long it did.

"And miss the drama?" Roman scoffed, juggling his orange. "I would rather volunteer as tribute in the Hunger Games."

"I need to keep an eye on Jessie," Patton sighed. "If her appendix gets any worse, we'll need to speed up her surgery."

"There's something I don't get," Roman huffed. "If the CDC is making sure you've got what you need for the surgery, what's the big concern?"

"A surgery is never a guarantee, Roman," Logan sighed, fixing his glasses with his classic Teacher face. "We are slicing open a person's body and putting our hands around their organs. When doctors discuss surgical risks with their patients, they discuss every detail, no matter how unlikely. We can prepare as much as we can, but without a proper operating room, there's the chance that one of those risks will occur and we will lack the proper tools. We are not a trauma center, and many of the doctors and nurses in the quarantine have not done surgeries like this in a long time. Hospitals don't operate like medical dramas. We are not all skilled in every aspect of medical care."

"I bet this isn't how you thought Virgil's birthday planning would go," Nate chuckled, tossing an orange slice into his mouth.

"Virgil!" Patton gasped. Nate choked on his orange, coughing and hitting his chest. "Oh my goodness! How did I forget about his birthday? He's going to spend his birthday on the road!”

"Perhaps we can think of something to do here for him," Roman mused, rubbing his chin.

"Wouldn't a quick 'Happy Birthday' text suffice?" Logan asked.

"It won't, and you know it," Patton huffed, smiling.

"We can do a grand show!" Roman declared, holding his half-eaten sandwich high like a sword. "Surely even he would smile at a fun music video!"

"Perhaps something more grounded," Logan sighed, rubbing his shoulder.

"A long drive is a great way to spend a birthday," Nate said, having finished choking. "Just you, some music, and the open road. And your GPS blaring directions in your ear every time you stop at a gas station.”

"We just gotta think- what would Virgil like?" Patton hummed.

"Some peace and quiet?" Logan muttered. He took a drink from his water bottle. Something slammed against the window behind Patton. Patton and Logan jumped, water spilling onto Logan. Ms. Lakin looked through the window, both hands on the glass. Dots of blood sprinkled the rash on her arms.

"Hello, uh," Ms. Lakin stammered, voice muffled behind the glass. "I know you told me there was a call button or something but I don't know where it is, I was sleeping, and I woke up and there was blood on my arms and my chest hurts, I might be having a heart attack? I think it's a heart attack, it sounds like what my uncle told me, but I'm freaking out, and-" Ms. Lakin leaned her head against the glass. Her quick breaths fogged up the glass.

"Ms. Lakin, try to get back to your bed," Logan declared, bolting up. "We'll be right in. Dr. Foster, Mr. Christopoulos, come with me."

"Right!" Patton stammered, hopping off the stretcher. Nate pushed himself up and the trio hurried into the decontamination chamber. Patton scrambled into the biohazard suit, his cardigan making odd lumps in the suit. His sticky hands wouldn't slip into the gloves. The rubber kept rubbing red patches into his hands. Logan, suit already on, grabbed Patton's hands. He held Patton by the wrist and slipped the gloves on with one swift motion. Patton smiled up at his husband. He stuffed his feet into his boots and entered Ms. Lakin's room with Logan and Nate.

She was still leaning against the window, panting like a wild beast. Small blood smears coated her arms. Her hands ran up and down her body, rubbing the blood away. She'd dragged her monitors across the room, which were now beeping wildly as her heart rate went up. Her IVs pulls against her wrists. Crazed eyes looked up at the newcomers.

"Hello," Ms. Lakin panted. "I- I'm sorry." Her hands pulled on the collar of her hospital gown, revealing the blood sprinkled rash on her chest.

"Nate, help her to the bed," Patton said, taking a step towards Ms. Lakin.

"No!" Ms. Lakin gasped, backing away. She held a blood-stained palm out. "Don't, don't come near me."

"Ok," Patton whispered. He held his hands over his head. "Ok. We'll stay right here." For a moment, Patton wished Virgil and Emile were there. He threw that thought into his mental trashcan.

"What's happening?" Nate asked.

"Ms. Lakin, I believe you are experiencing a panic attack, possibly some paranoia" Logan explained, stepping next to Patton. "They are common symptoms of Pinto's."

"I'm dying, right?" Ms. Lakin stammered. "I- this is just what I expected, this is death."

"Try to breathe with me, Ms. Lakin," Logan said. Patton saw movement in the corner of his eye. Nurses scurried into the decontamination chamber. They would be in soon. "Calming your breathing will help you feel better. Can you sit down?" Ms. Lakin whimpered, leaning back against the window. "Breathe in for four seconds. One, two..." Ms. Lakin gasped, chest lifting as Logan counted. "Three, four. Now hold the breath for seven seconds. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven." As soon as Logan stopped counting, Ms. Lakin let out a long, shaky breath.

"Let's go back to bed," Patton said softly. "You can sleep."

"I looked up Pinto's," Ms. Lakin gasped with a death grip on her gown. "The bleeding, I'm getting worse, I'm going to die."

"You won't die," Patton assured her. He took a careful step towards her, then another. "We're taking care of you. I'm sure some sleep will make you feel better." Patton held out his hand. The death-grip of Ms. Lakin's right hand began to relax. She moved her shaking hand towards Patton. The observation room doors creaked open. A pair of nurses used the only suits left and stepped into the room. Ms. Lakin pulled her hand back.

"No, you need to leave!" Ms. Lakin stammered, shaking her head. "Leave!"

"We're here to help you," Patton said. As soon as he took another step towards Ms. Lakin, Patton knew he had made a mistake. Ms. Lakin's leg shot up and hit... a very uncomfortable spot, to say the least. Patton stumbled back, groaning. Logan's hands steadied him. Nate charged past the couple. Ms. Lakin flailed her hands and Nate grabbed her wrists. He pulled her arms behind her as the monitors went crazy.

"Don't touch me!" Ms. Lakin shouted. Nate dragged her across the room as the two nurses swarmed Ms. Lakin. Nate shoved her onto the bed and with the help of one of the nurses pinned Ms. Lakin to the bed. The other nurse hurried to the cabinets bathed in dull yellow light. They grabbed a small vial and a syringe while Logan joined in the efforts to hold Ms. Lakin down. The patient thrashed against her captors, her eyes resembling a wild animal in a cage. Patton hadn't realized just what an 'endocrinal dysfunction' meant until that moment.

"You're keeping me in here with a corpse!" Ms. Lakin growled. The nurse filled the syringe with what was in the vial and rushed to Ms. Lakin's IV. They pushed the syringe into the IV. Slowly but surely, Ms. Lakin's thrashing calmed down. Her limbs relaxed. She didn't push against Nate and Logan. Her body laid limb on the bed, heart rate going down. Her eyes drifted closed. A collective sigh of relief filled the room.

"Didn't know she was this bad," Nate huffed, stretching his arms overhead.

"If she was asleep, she wouldn't have known when she started bleeding," Logan huffed, crossing his arms. "From there, she moved onto the more emotional stages of the disease."

"You good, Patton?" Nate asked. Patton leaned with his elbows on his knees. He gave the group a thumbs-up and groaned.

————————

As a theatre kid, Roman could never resist the call of musical cast recordings. If he heard the proper notes, he was like a bloodhound- he'd hunt down the source and indulge in melodramatic singing and general narcissism. How could he not? Theatre was basically magic, after all. It could always keep him entertained. So as he listened to Thomas, Joan, and Logan gabber on, he hummed the Waitress soundtrack under his breath. He leaned against the door to the small room where they'd set up Thomas's TV.

"Be honest," Thomas huffed. His face bounced on the TV screen, showing his office in live time. A desk lamp lit up the papers littering the desk's surface and Thomas's droopy face. His eyes were looking particularly Virgil-like that night. "What are Ms. Lakin's recovery chances?"

"Considering Nurse Lawson and Dr. Picani are only about halfway to Atlanta," Logan sighed, fixing his glasses. "The chances are in the lower range of probability. We have everything we need to keep her comfortable and stabilize her mood swings with some accuracy."

"What's the progress on Jessie McCallum's surgery?" Thomas sighed, running his hands through his hair.

"We're still waiting on the CDC to get the stuff through," Joan explained. "She's stable for now. We've started her on ampicillin. Since Patton's stuck down here, he's gonna help with her case."

"Hey, you guys are low on blood, right?" Roman said, raising his hand. "Maybe we can do a blood drive or something with the folks we've got here? Would that help?"

"Good idea," Joan said, looking back at Roman. "Could you handle that?"

"I'm on it," Roman chirped. He gave the group a little salute. "I'll leave the medical junk to the doctors." Roman slipped out of the room, closing the door with his foot. His hands fiddled in the pockets of his letter jacket. He got this. He could do a blood drive. He'd organized plenty of blood drives in normal situations. In fact, Roman promised himself he would be the first person in the ED to volunteer his blood for Jessie (he was O-, after all, and in perfect health, not to brag or anything). Perhaps it was a bit more stressful when he was collecting blood for a person with a face instead of expressionless statistics on a page, but that wouldn't change anything! He finally had something to do!

"Ok, when the doctor started using phrases like 'you'll pass away', what could I say?" a quiet voice sang from somewhere in the ED. "I said Doctor, in plain English, tell me why I was chosen, why me of all men?" Roman would recognize a Falsettos song anywhere! But who was singing it? He was certain it wasn't the Ceballos, even though the sound came from somewhere near their bay. He padded across the ED, checking each bay he passed. Most of the patients were fast asleep. "Doctor, here's the good part, at least death means I'll never be scared about dying again." Roman walked past Jessie's bed. The teen was safely asleep, but her face was squished into a frown. When he moved past her bay, he saw Milena, her bed pulled up so she could sit straight.

"Let's get on with living while we can and not play dumb. Death's gonna-" Milena looked up at Roman. "Crap. Was I singing too loud?"

"You're alright," Roman chuckled, shaking his head. "I heard the call of my people."

"Are you a Falsettos fan?" Milena asked.

"I am an everything fan, hon," Roman scoffed, whisking a hand past his face like he was flipping long hair.

"I'm in the drama club at school," Milena admitted. "If I wasn't so busy with sports, I'd probably audition for the school musical. Then again, I don't think I'll be playing sports for a while, so I might get the chance."

"I say go for it," Roman said. "Musicals are amazing."

"Yeah," Milena muttered, nodding softly. "That song's a bit of a vent song for me right now.”

"I'm not a doctor, but I don't think you're in danger anymore," Roman said. He moved to the edge of Milena's bed and leaned his hands against the plastic railing.

"I know," Milena huffed. "But with my parents this close to murder and Jessie..." Milena crossed her arms. "I just can't believe them. They can't even come see me now. They're probably freaking out about me, though. Parents, huh?"

"Yeah, that's pretty normal," Roman sighed, absentmindedly nodding. His Dad would have flipped if Roman was in a car accident. Then again, he probably wouldn't have cared if it was Rem- "Your family really hates the McCallums."

"That's an understatement," Milena grunted.

"I suppose you've got more of a reason now," Roman muttered.

"Hey, it's not Jessie's fault," Milena snapped. "We just didn't see the car coming." Roman looked up at the teen. He cocked his head a bit.

"You don't hate her?" Roman asked. Milena shifted.

”I tolerate her,” Milena muttered. “But that doesn’t mean it’s fun to have her family fighting mine.”

”You seem to do more than tolerate her,” Roman snorted, glancing at Jessie’s bed. “You looked worried when Jessie puked.”

”Well, who wouldn’t be?” Milena snapped.

”Let’s not wake anyone up, Whizzer Frown,” Roman chuckled.

”A grown man insulting a teenager,” Milena snorted. “Is that a new low for you, or is that how you spend your nights?”

”I just...” Roman searched for the right words, waving a hand around. If his creativity meant anything, it needed to work now. “I know sometimes in life, you become close to someone that you wish you didn’t know, for whatever reason. People don’t approve of you or that person is disliked or they’ve done things to you or others... but when it comes to Jessie, I don’t think you should be ashamed. Your parents may not agree, but with time, there could be a great future before ye!”

”Even after I crashed the car?” Milena snapped. Roman stood straighter, removing his hands from the plastic railing. “Her parents were right. It was my fault. I distracted her. I was crying, she tried to comfort me, and she took the eyes off the road. I don’t think anyone will want us to be friends after that, especially not Jessie.” Milena pushed the bed controls. Her bed unfolded, laying her down flat.

”It-“ Roman said.

”It’s late, I’m tired,” Milena grunted, squeezing her eyes shut. “I don’t even know who you are. Leave me alone.” Roman lingered at the edge of the bed for a moment. Then, he shook his head and padded away. He had a blood drive to organize.

————————

"At the end of the day, all they can Scooby-Dooby-Doo is accept Ms. Lakin's mood swings as they come and keep being patient," Emile sighed. Virgil typed every word into his text to Logan, leaving out the cartoon references. "Patton did a fairly good job, he just spooked her."

"And sent," Virgil muttered, sending the ridiculously long text. He yawned softly, stuffing his phone back into his pocket. He glanced out the window to the dark swamps beyond. "Are you sure about this backroad?”

"You said it yourself, we'll never get through that accident on the highway," Emile sighed. "I've taken this road a few times. It's pretty in the daylight!"

"Uh-huh," Virgil sighed. "You ever get kneed by a patient?"

"I haven't had too many violent patients," Emile admitted.

"Lucky man," Virgil scoffed. "I once had a terrified twelve-year-old chomp down on my wrist. I still got a little scar." Virgil flipped his hood over his head and curled into the space between the car door and the seat. "Wake me up in, like, half an hour, and we can swap spots."

"I've got a playlist of calmer songs I can play," Emile said. "I've got Here Comes a Thought, Everything Stays, A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes..."

"I'd rather you have your upbeat songs than fall asleep to a lullaby and crash the car," Virgil mumbled, closing his eyes. His mind hopped down rabbit holes, traveling along strands of thought he could only brush past. He was vaguely aware of the peppy songs coming from the radio. His hoodie was a warm hug wrapped around his arms. His hand rubbed the stitched purple flannel.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday, dear Virgil, happy birthday to you!" Mom's giant, muscular arms wrapped around Virgil in a giant bear hug from behind. Her fingers tickled his chin.

"Mom!" Virgil whined, smiling. He tucked his arms under hers and tried to push her off.

"Hey, it's not every day my kid turns seven!" Mom laughed. Her hands ruffled his messy brown hair. Virgil smoothed it back down as Mom crouched next to his chair. "I'm sorry we don't have a cake this year, kiddo."

"Cake isn't healthy, anyway," Virgil said, shrugging. "I don't want either of us to get some disease from bad store cake."

"My little worrywart," Mom chuckled, shaking her head like she always did whenever Virgil amazed her. "I've got some chicken strips, ramen, some soy sauce, and some veggies. So, for your birthday treat, I'm going to make proper ramen!" Mom stood straight, hands on her hips like a superhero.

"Isn't the ramen we have proper ramen?" Virgil asked.

"Ours is going to be like ramen you'd find in Japan," Mom declared. She walked around the kitchen table towards the fridge. "I've got a recipe printed out and everything. Head into the living room, you've got your pick on the TV." Virgil hopped off the chair and scurried across the apartment to the carpeted section. He settled down on the matted brown couch and leaned over the armrest to the DVD shelf. Maybe Mom would let him watch one of her horror movies! She had so many cool movies. Virgil reached into the bottom of the shelf and pulled out The Birds. This was going to be so cool!

Gunshots echoed in the street, muffled beyond the brick walls and murky glass of the apartment. Virgil's gaze drifted out the windows. Mom's rules about gunshots were always to stay inside away from the windows. Did other kids spend their birthdays in gang riddled neighborhoods? Virgil put the movie on the armrest and scurried back into the kitchen. Mom stared at a crumpled piece of paper, muttering under her breath. Her puffy dirty blonde hair cascaded against her dark purple flannel.

"Can I just cut off the breading?" Mom muttered. Virgil scurried into the kitchen, socks slipping on the tiles. He barreled into Mom and hugged her leg. Mom yelped, jumping a little. "Hey there, stormcloud! Is something wrong?"

"I love you, Mom," Virgil muttered. He buried his face into Mom's flannel. It smelled of antiseptic, Green Soap, and ink, the wonderful smells of Mom's tattoo shop. That flannel could stop bullets.

“I lov-“

SCREEEEEEEEEEEECH!!!

Virgil's body slammed against his seatbelt, burning against the fabric. Emile's neck jutted forward, just caught by his own seatbelt. The headlights shone back into the van, lighting up Virgil and Emile's faces.

"WHAT THE HELL, PICANI?" Virgil shouted, rubbing his sore shoulder and trying to breathe. Emile groaned and looked up.

"Gator," Emile groaned. Virgil followed the glare of the headlights. Sitting in the middle of the gravel road was the biggest alligator Virgil had ever seen. Its dark green scales were littered with scars. The light reflected in its giant round eyes. It stared at the van, not blinking. Its tail slowly swished the gravel behind it. Virgil locked his door.

"Crap, crap, crap," Virgil shouted. "Lock the doors!"

"Virgil, don't panic," Emile said, rubbing his neck.

"I'm not a native Florida dude, I'm from Atlanta, I've never seen a wild alligator before!" Virgil snapped. "It can't be happy with us!"

"Well, he's not asleep," Emile muttered. "He was probably just crossing the road before we showed up. He's not that different from the marsh crocodiles I saw in Pakistan. He'll move when he's good and ready."

"Wait," Virgil huffed, shaking the nerves out of his hands. "You've been to Pakistan?"

"I was in the Army, stationed near the Waziristan region for a time," Emile explained. Virgil blinked, eyes wide, dumbfounded.

"You were in the Army," Virgil repeated. "Emile Picani, lover of every cartoon in existence, who most likely owns a dozen onesies, was in the Army? In Pakistan?"

"And Afghanistan," Emile added. "I saw a few marsh crocodiles in my time there. I'm not as well versed in reptile knowledge as the folks in Amphibia, but I know some things." Virgil leaned against his seat, staring at the ceiling.

"How did I not know that?" Virgil muttered. "Are you pulling my leg?"

"It's not something I joke about," Emile admitted, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. "I usually only talk about it when I believe it can help me connect with my patients. They aren't all cartoon fans, after all."

"I-" Virgil stammered. "Ok, I can't get over this. Can I ask you some questions? Is that a problem?"

"That's alright," Emile sighed. He folded his hands in his lap.

"You won't even hurt a fly," Virgil stammered, flipping his hood down. "Why join the Army?"

"I joined out of high school," Emile explained. "Back then, I wasn't quite sure what I wanted to do with my life. All I really liked to do was watch cartoons. There were a lot of army recruiters at my school, so I thought serving would be a good place to start. It's not an uncommon phenomenon. There's been a bit of social psychology devoted to the study of soldiers and why they join the army, and many join not out of patriotic duty, but to find a purpose. Kind of like Hercules in his movie! He didn't train to be a hero to help people, but so he could have a strong identity." Virgil searched his brain for appropriate questions. Roman had organized a Veteran's Day thing for the kids, where they could ask some of the veteran patients currently at the hospital some questions. Virgil tried to remember what questions the kids were allowed to ask.

"What was your job?" he asked, hoping it wasn't offensive.

"Mostly grunt work at first," Emile sighed. "Keeping tents clean, gun maintenance, guard duty. I picked up the language pretty quickly. Eventually, folks looked to me when it came to talking to the locals."

"Not too surprising," Virgil muttered. "You're about as threatening as Kirby."

"Kirby can absorb people! I'd say that's pretty threatening," Emile chuckled. "In a way, I did absorb the ability to speak Pashto from them."

"Are you still in the Army? Like, are you one of those doctors who got the military to pay for their college?"

"Ha! No! I got discharged after a few years. I got plenty of scholarships for my service, though." Emile rested his hands on the wheel. "My squad leader, Sergeant Takeichi, had a gator wrestler for a brother. So, he tried to take on a marsh crocodile. He did a good job, even if he almost lost his hand."

"Were they a good squad? Wow, that sounded like I'm talking about a high school band."

"It was good, all in all. No one minded when I came out. Sergeant Takeichi had nicknames for us all. Mr. Rooster, Track & Field, Earthquake. I was the Animaniac."

"How long did it take for them to find out about your love of cartoons?”

"About ten minutes." Virgil grinned, holding back an eye roll. Emile leaned back and tucked his hands into his lap again. "I'm the only one left, now." Virgil's grin dropped.

"Oh." Virgil picked at the stitching on his hoodie. "War is hell, huh?"

"Actually, we all survived our time in Pakistan. Oh, there he goes." Virgil looked just in time to see the alligator's tail slip into the murky waters surrounding the gravel road. "See? He was just crossing the road."

"Alright, doc, hop out," Virgil huffed, unbuckling. "My turn to drive." Virgil unlocked his door and jumped out of the van. He and Emile crossed in front of the van, long shadows dancing on the gravel. Virgil crawled into the driver's seat. He unplugged Emile's phone and plugged in his own. The phone light burned Virgil's eyes. It was exactly midnight.

"Happy birthday to me," Virgil muttered, adjusting the side mirrors. "Happy birthday to me. Happy birthday, dear Virgil, happy birthday to me." By the time the van was once again cruising down the gravel road, Emile was slouched against the shotgun door with his eyes closed. Without looking, Virgil hit shuffle on his phone.

"Hello darkness, my old friend," the car radio muttered. Virgil sighed and let the road blur in front of him.

————————

The observation room door creaked open. Mr. McCallum slowly stuck his face out, like an animal scanning for predators. Patton stood by the desks, fiddling with the spare doctor's coat he'd found. Logan had suggested it- if Patton was going to care for Jessie, he might as well look the part.

"Folks are sleeping, so don't be loud," Nate muttered, leaning beside the door. Mr. McCallum nodded. Mrs. McCallum held his hand as the two slipped out. Mrs. Yakimov pushed the door open fully and left the room with her husband. Both couples looked around the ED, and their eyes settled on their daughters. Milena was wide awake, pulling her bed up.

"Jessie," Mrs. McCallum gasped. The McCallums raced across the ED, hands held tight. Mr. McCallum cupped his daughter's face. Jessie groaned softly and opened her eyes.

"Dad?" Jessie muttered. Mr. McCallum smiled and leaned his forehead against Jessie's. Mrs. McCallum wrapped her arms around her family.

"Milena, are you feeling ok?" Mrs. Yakimov asked, hurrying to her daughter's side.

"I was wondering when they'd let you out," Milena scoffed. "Hey, Mom."

"We're here, sweetie," Mrs. Yakimov declared. She grabbed Milena's hand and squeezed it tight. Joan slipped past Patton into Jessie's bay. As they started explaining Jessie's condition, Patton's gaze drifted up to one of the ED clocks. It was past midnight! It was officially Virgil's birthday! How did he not notice? He stalked around the desks towards where Roman slept. The public services director had finally given in to sleep after donating blood for Jessie's surgery and organizing a blood drive from all the healthy residents of the quarantine. He laid sprawled out on the stretcher underneath the isolated observation room window. His letter jacket laid over him like a blanket, arm tucked under his head.

"How 'bout you shut up, man," Roman grumbled, rolling onto his side.

"Roman," Patton whispered, shaking Roman's shoulder.

"Huh?" Roman groaned, jutting up. His sleepy eyes scanned the room before settling on Patton. He gave the doctor a goofy, half asleep smile. "Hey, Pat."

"It's Virgil's birthday," Patton explained.

"Oh, yeah," Roman yawned. "I guess it is." Roman blinked and suddenly shook his head like a dog. "It's his birthday!"

"Exactly!" Patton chirped. "We need to do something!" Roman rolled off the stretcher, stumbling onto the floor. He jumped up and grabbed Patton's hand. Roman raced down the halls, Patton scrambling to keep pace. He almost got to the quarantined doors when he turned into a half-open laundry room. Patton rubbed the walls until he found the light switch. The laundry room had an older washer and dryer stuffed in the corner. Shelves lined the walls, filled with cleaning supplies, spare blankets, pillows, and a few extra casting materials.

"Ok, you film me, and I'll do the birthday song," Roman said, padding over to the shelves. Patton scrambled for his phone and pulled up his camera. "I finally figured it out. He's going to hate this."

"Three, two, one," Patton said. He pressed record.

"It's your birthday!" Roman sang to the tune of Welcome to the Black Parade. "It's your birthday! And though you're stuck on the road driving, we didn't forget, it's your birthday! It's your birthday! I hope you know that you've made friends here, so I hope you find some happiness!" Roman stuck a vibrant pose at the end of the song, flinging out his arms. His hands slapped a shelf full of detergent. The bottles tumbled off the shelves with a loud clatter. Roman stood frozen, still smiling.

"Crap," Roman said. Patton put his phone away.

"It's ok!" Patton assured him, hurrying over. "We'll just pick these up, no harm done!"

"Hold on," Roman said, thrusting a hand in front of Patton. He squinted through the shelving unit towards the wall. "I think there's something back here."

"Like what?" Patton asked. He grabbed an armful of bottles and set them on the washer. Roman grabbed the shelving unit. The unit grinded against the floor as Roman pushed it away from the wall. Patton grabbed the other side and helped balance out everything still on the shelf. Roman squeezed into the space between the shelves and the wall.

"Patton, there's a hole back here!" Roman gasped. Patton scurried around the shelving unit and squeezed in beside Roman. Sure enough, there was a hole in the wall with rusted metal climbing upwards. Roman stuck his head into the chute. "I can't see anything. I think this is a laundry chute!" Roman pulled his head out. Dust clung to his hair. Something clicked in Patton's head. He gasped, covering his mouth. "What? Do I have bugs in my hair?"

"I just got an idea," Patton gasped. "You know how we were talking earlier about Jessie McCallum's surgery? All that stuff about things we can't predict, stuff we might need but won't be able to get?" Patton squirmed past Roman and stuck his head into the hole. "I think this is our answer!"

————————

"I've got the blueprints you asked for," Thomas sighed. His face bounced around Patton's phone, which was propped against a dusty bottle of detergent. Logan and Joan joined Patton and Roman in the laundry room, watching Thomas make his way through the hospital. "If I'm reading them right- and that's a pretty big if here, guys- that chute starts in here..." Thomas stepped into a dark room. He flicked on the lights, the phone going white for a moment.

"Hey, hey!" Roman stammered, hitting the wall. His head was deep into the chute, jacket tied around his waist. "I see light! Thomas! Tommy boy! Thomathy! Tomma-lomma-ding-dong! Thomas the dank engine! Can you hear me?" Thomas moved through the new room- another laundry room, from the looks of it. Metal groaned off-screen.

"Roman?" Thomas called. His voice echoed twice; once through the phone, once down the chute.

"It's us!" Roman cheered. "Hi!" Metal groaned again from floors above. Thomas wrung his hand through his hair.

"I'm on the third floor," Thomas muttered. "This room is pretty dusty, guys. This washer is ancient. I don't even think there's a dryer in here. We have been vastly underusing space on this floor!"

"I don't understand how the CDC missed this," Logan huffed, arms crossed. "This chute is a break in the quarantine."

"It's not on the modern blueprints," Thomas explained, shuffling the rolled-up papers stuck under his arm. "I guess we just forgot about it over time."

"This is perfect," Patton declared, clapping his hands together. "If we need something during Jessie's surgery, we could toss it down the chute and bypass the quarantine!"

"Wait, Patton," Thomas stammered. "The CDC's strict about their protocols. They'd want us to report this chute so they can seal it off."

"Thomas, if we do that, we're denying ourselves the tools we need to help Jessie!" Patton groaned.

"We're playing in the world of probabilities," Logan huffed. "Who knows if we would even require this chute? I don't believe it's worth the risk of the CDC finding out. We could possibly face charges for keeping this from them."

"If it means saving a girl's life, I'll do whatever I can," Patton declared.

"It's a pretty steep drop," Roman muttered, looking back into the chute. "How would we get stuff down without it breaking?"

"Egg drop," Joan said. All eyes turned to the medical director. "What? Like you guys didn't do egg drops in middle school. We put whatever we need in some packaging and drop it down. It'll be fine."

"You can't be agreeing with this," Logan snapped. "This chute is a danger to the whole hospital!"

"The only person with Pinto's so far is Ms. Lakin, and she's double quarantined," Joan huffed.

"Oh, we can get a giant fan up there and have it blow into the chute," Roman chirped. "All the infected dust would just fly back down here!"

"Roman, now's not the time," Logan grunted. He stalked up to Patton. "Patton, I don't understand why you're so insistent on using this chute and risking your career."

"I need to make sure Jessie's gonna be alright," Patton huffed.

"You're risking criminal charges for something you might not even need!" Logan snapped.

"Logan," Thomas said.

"I can't understand why you always do this," Logan grumbled, hands flying in front of him. "You're willing to break hospital regulation at the drop of a hat for the chance to help someone."

"Logan, that's what doctors do!" Patton huffed.

"Doctors also need to have a job to help their patients, which you'll lose eventually if you continue in this fashion," Logan hissed.

"Logan," Thomas said, this time a little harsher.

"You never listen to your own common sense!" Logan shouted.

"Logan, I love you, but can you please stop?" Patton snapped. "I, I hate this conversation."

"Logan!" Thomas shouted. "Logan, look at your coat!" Everyone's gaze drifted to Logan's white coat. Faint red dots covered Logan's sleeves. Patton stopping breathing. Very carefully, Logan peeled his coat off. He let it fall at his feet. A red, scaly rash marked with small dots of blood covered his arms.

————————

Seven hours after quarantine.

————————

Taglist-

@cocobearthe4th @purelyreblogstsedition @watchoutforthefanfics @moonlight22oa

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fandomfanfics12 · 5 years

Text

We Are A Family-part 21

Title: We Are A Family. Pairings: Steve x tony, Peter x Wade, Nat x Clint, Sam x Bucky. Part: 21/? Warnings: swearing, fluff, angst, eventual smut, slowburn. Summary: When Nat comes into the avengers tower with baby Peter Parker, the avengers didn’t know what they were getting themselves into. But now that Peter is here,Steve and Tony both feel protective over him. It doesn’t help that Peter hates everyone other than Steve and tony. But as Steve and tony raise Peter, they start to fall for one another. Will this superfamily work out or will it all turn to hell? A/N: more angst and the last one for tonight, hopefully my updates will be a little more consistent now lol.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20

Their marriage went over smoothly for another five years. The calm before the earth-shattering and life-altering storm. Now though, the storm had arrived. Peter hadn’t noticed it at first, but he found Tony was spending more time at the workshop. And Steve was either at the gym or with uncle Bucky. This time, Peter was forced to really take notice. He no longer had Wade to escape too. Not since they stopped being friends three years ago.

“dads?” Peter called out as he let himself into the house. The house was still, silent, empty. Peter sighed and got a glass of water. He banged his keys on his knee as he drank it, trying to decide whether he should do his math homework or go talk some sense into his parents. They both suffered from nightmares and ptsd, but it had been good for a long time. Yet these past couple of weeks had been tense. Peter woke his dad’s up from nightmares at least six times a week, both of them screaming and shaking. He knew it was to do with the government and all the pressure about what happened in Sokovia all those years ago. Yet Peter still struggled to understand why this affected their marriage so much.

“Peter?” It was Steve’s voice, Peter forced himself to smile.

“Hey pops.” Steve smiled and ruffled Peter’s hair as he walked past.

“How was school?” Steve sat down on a chair and Peter shrugged.

“fine, how’s uncle Bucky?” Steve shrugged.

“fine.” Then the awkward silence filled the air.

“Is everything alright with you and dad?” Peter asked suddenly and Steve’s eyes widened.

“We’re fine.” Steve promised but Peter saw right through the lie.

“You’re not fine, if you were fine then you wouldn’t be arguing.” Peter grumbled and Steve sighed.

“We’ll be okay, we’ve survived rough patches before. I’ll talk to Tony tonight alright?” Peter nodded.

“Alright.”

“Don’t worry about us Pete, how’s Ned?” So Peter made polite conversation about school and his friends, all the while making a mental note of how exhausted Steve looked.

Steve knew that it was mainly his fault that he and Tony were having problems. He knew it started because he had begun pulling away. What peter didn’t know was the extent of the fighting. Some nights Steve would go and stay at Bucky’s. some mornings he wouldn’t even want to go home at all. He was pushing Tony away and then mad when Tony walked away. It was wrong and abusive and yet Steve couldn’t stop. He felt guilty as he snapped every mean remark, as he shoved Tony’s attempts of romantic gestures. Every time Tony tried to kiss Steve, Steve would turn his head. Or step just out of arm’s reach to prevent any hugs. No matter how hard Tony tried to fix things, Steve was trying equally hard to ruin them. But the problem was he couldn’t understand why.

“I don’t know what to do Bucky.” Steve complained and Bucky leaned against his kitchen sink, arms crossed over his chest.

“Are you still happy in your relationship with Tony?” Bucky asked softly and Steve squeezed his eyes shut.

“I was, until we started fighting. Which is something that I caused.” Steve put his head in his hands.

“why did you cause the arguments?”

“I don’t know.”

“did tony do something to upset you?”

“no.”

“Is it to do with a lack of sleep?”

“I’ve been having more nightmares.” Steve admitted.

“Of the war?” Bucky’s brows furrowed and Steve shook his head.

“No, it’s the purple guy-“ Bucky cut him off.

“Tell Tony.”

“I’ve tried! For years I have kept this secret from him and I can’t tell him. I can’t get the words out. I don’t know where to start or how to explain it and with each passing day it just seems more and more impossible to tell him.”

“Do you want me to tell him?” Steve’s gut churned and fear clawed at his mind.

“No!” He shouted and Bucky raised his brows.

“What’s going on with you?”

“I don’t know, but I can’t tell Tony. I don’t know why. And you can’t tell him either, promise me Bucky.” Bucky bit his lip but nodded.

“Alright Steve, I promise.” Steve felt his entire body relax, like that promise had saved his life.

“Thank you.”

“But you have to fix your marriage and put effort in. alright?” Steve nodded his head.

“Alright.”

It was like each passing day made things worse. It seemed as though Steve had given up on their marriage completely. Tony tried, day after day, he always tried to express his love for Steve. And it was like loving a brick wall. It wasn’t always like this, but with the accords, things just got worse and worse.

“Steve?” Tony asked as he walked in the door, he found Steve making dinner and his heart pounded in his chest.

“Hello.” Tony winced at how formal Steve sounded.

“how was your day?”

“Fine, and yours?”

“Good, I implemented a new magnet in Clint’s-“ but Steve cut him off.

“I’ve been thinking…” Steve trailed off and Tony waited.

“About?” he prompted and it almost looked like Steve was fighting to get the words out.

“Us.” Steve mumbled. Tony took a deep breath.

“Good thoughts or bad thoughts?” tony asked and Steve didn’t say anything. A bad sign. Bad thoughts. Very bad thoughts, scary thoughts that made Tony want to run from the room.

“I think we need a break Tony.” Steve said it so quietly that Tony almost missed it.

“No.” Tony could feel tears in his eyes, his heart pounded in his chest and Steve sighed.

“Hear me out?”

“No. We don’t need a break. Breaks are for people who are in broken relationships. Our relationship isn’t broken!” Tony exclaimed and Steve squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fists.

“things aren’t right between us. You know it and I know it.”

“Bullshit.”

“Tony.”

“We can fix it Steve. It’s you and me and Peter against the world, remember?” Tony asked and Steve sighed.

“This isn’t the first time we’ve been in this position Tony.” Finally Steve looked at him, finally Tony got to look into his husband’s gorgeous blue eyes. Blue eyes which had once stolen Tony’s heart. Once had given him warm and fuzzy feelings. When had Steve’s eyes been so cold? When had he started looking at Tony as if Tony were no more than a stranger?

“And we came out on the other side, stronger for it.”

“Well maybe I’m tired of fighting to make it to the other side.”

“Well I’m not!” Tony shouted and Steve sighed.

“Tony-“

“We can fix this Steve. You know we can, we don’t need a break.”

“I just think we need time apart.” Steve was in his defensive stance, his captain America stance. Ready to fight at a moment’s notice.

“Isn’t that why you’ve been spending so much time with Bucky?” Tony demanded.

“What?” Steve choked on the word.

“You have been cold towards me for weeks. All your spare time you spend with Bucky, I’ve noticed, Peter noticed, so why do we need time apart?” Tony demanded and Steve rolled his eyes.

“When will you stop being insecure about Buck?” Steve demanded and Tony felt his nose scrunch up.

“We can fix this Steve, just tell me how I can fix this?” Tony said, trying to salvage the conversation before it turned into a screaming-match.

“You can’t.”

“But that’s what I do, I tinker and I fix things and-“

“not this time.”

“We can fix this!” Tony exclaimed and Steve squeezed his eyes shut.

Steve didn’t know why he was arguing with Tony. He had told Bucky he would try and fix things with Tony, not end things. What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I just go up to him and hug him? Why am I saying this? What am I doing? Steve began shaking, he felt ready to throw up.

“I don’t want to fix this.” Steve’s voice was shaking and when he opened his eyes he could see how much he had hurt Tony.

“You chose me, remember? You told me you didn’t regret choosing me. You picked this life with me and Peter. You proposed, you kissed me first, you started this whole thing Steve, so why are you pulling away now?” Tony’s voice was hoarse and Steve took a steadying breath. I still choose you. I still love you. I still want you.

“Choosing you was the biggest mistake.” Why couldn’t Steve say what he really wanted to say? Why was he ending his marriage? Why was he making the worst decision of his life?

“Dads?” It was Peter’s shaking voice, Peter’s stricken voice. Fuck.

“Peter-“ but tony cut Steve off.

“I think it would be best if you left for a couple hours, take some time to calm down.” Tony said rather coolly. Steve forced himself to nod, forced himself to take his keys and walk out the door.

It took Tony over an hour to calm Peter down. To explain to Pete that he and Steve were just fine. That their argument had merely escalated and that they’d sort it out. Fortunately for Tony, Peter had decided he would stay at Aunt May’s for the night. So whatever happened with Steve next wouldn’t be witnessed by Peter at least. When the front door did finally open, Tony’s heart dropped down to his stomach. Looking at Steve, Tony instantly knew what had happened.

“Tony-“ but Tony flinched at the sound of Steve’s voice. He studied Steve’s messy hair, his swollen lips, his clothes which weren’t sitting quite right. But it was his eyes which held guilt the first emotion Tony had seen in his husband’s eyes in a long time. Steve had cheated.

“We can fix this.” Tony whispered. Tony knew that the serum prevented Steve from getting drunk, but Tony told himself that it was just a drunken one-night stand.

“We can fix this.” Tony whispered. Yet Steve knew they couldn’t. they never would. Yet tony still looked at Steve with love and Steve wanted to break down and cry. Why would I do this? How could I do this? I love tony, I want to spend the rest of my life with tony. How could I do this?

“No, we can’t.”

“Steve we’ll never see the guy again, we can move past this. We’ll go to couples therapy, we can fix this, we-“

“I slept with Bucky.”

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boogiewrites · 6 years

Text

Choking On Sapphires 42

Title & Song: Dreams

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Word Count: 5400+

Summary: Genevieve has another dream and realizes her feelings for Alfie and sees trouble on the horizon. She seeks out advice from the person she trusts the most. She receives bad news, but makes the best of it.

Warnings/Tags: Language. Angst. Fluff. Explicit Sexual Content.

**Chapter song is Dreams by The Cranberries.**

Positive feedback is MUCH appreciated! Reblogs, likes, asks and comments feed me to write more! Let me know if you’d like tagged in my work.

My Masterlist. (Includes Parts 1-41)

You awake to the warm hands of Alfie on your clammy, sweat covered skin. He'd slept in your bed again after the usual Friday night of habit of sleeping together, which you welcomed now. And after waking up from a dream like the one you just had, you found yourself especially thankful he was there.

"Shhh, luv, it's just a dream innit?" you hear his voice soft and deep as his hand pushes back your hair, an open palm on your stomach, as your chest started to ease in it's heaving. But it wasn't always "just" dreams with you, was it? He forgets it was your dreams like this that are the reason he's still alive. Although this one was far easier to interpret than the previous ones you'd had about him.

You were standing on a beach. It was cold and you could feel the salty sea wind biting at your bare skin, feeling vulnerable and raw. You see your mother, your brothers, and sisters by the water together. Your heart leaps at the sight, as you hadn't seen them in so long and you start to move forward. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Alfie walking beside you, it was a lovely scene. You were excited to have him meet your family, you felt warmer as soon as you noticed him. But then appeared your father. He was like a great wall, a force that pummeled icy air upon you, separating you from your family. You want to scream and yell and attack, but you can't. He's in your face, teeth gnashing and spit hitting your skin. You feel small, frightened just like you had when you left home and you start to cry. He hits you across your face, followed by shoves and grabbing your hair and shoving you to the ground. Just like he had the night you left home. He shakes you and hits you against the wall he'd created with his appearance, separating you from Alfie. You look to the confused man and try to run towards him, the only thing besides your father with his hand around your throat that you can see, your head being knocked back against a hard surface. You call out for him and reach and fight and grasp at nothing but he's just out of reach. Your father turns, seeing that he's there and starts to pull you away by the waist. You can't get out of his grasp. Your fathers screaming at Alfie, throwing threats and telling him how you aren't worth the trouble, you're just a broken little girl who lives under his rule and he can't be with you. His insults then turn to Alfie himself and you fight back. You fight with all you have, but he keeps pulling you away from him. You think you might have hurt him enough to free yourself, feeling your body falling, and that's when Alfie's presence in real life snaps you out of the dream.

So you're gasping on your back, wide-eyed, face wet with sweat and tears. You hold your hands up to see them, they're shaking and Alfie takes them in his.

"C'mere, sweetheart," he whispers, pulling you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you as you come down from the trembling mess of a girl the dream had turned you into. He shushes you, face buried in your hair at the top of your head. You put your hands on his chest and feel his warmth, his heartbeat and you try not to cry. You're angry at yourself for the dream, for letting your father have this effect on you and your life. "I've got you, Gen, hush now, luv, nothin' gonna get ya while ya, while I'm here, is it?" he says in a warm, smooth voice that washes over you like a heavy blanket. You found yourself believing his comforting words. You move your arms around him, pressing your face against his chest, fingertips gripping into his back as you hold onto him like an anchor to reality. He continues shushing and cooing at you, kissing the top of your head as you settle, and eventually, you do. He asks no questions and demands nothing, just strokes your hair and bare skin lovingly until the both of you fall back asleep. ---------------- Alfie had gone out to the city, only after you gave him the go-ahead to do so after the state you'd woken up in. He said if you were too shaken he'd be happy to stay, it was only a few things that he had to do that'd help the workload of the next week move smoother.

His willingness to stay if you needed him and his reaction to the vulnerability you'd unwillingly shown make your chest ache. But not in the sorrowful way that you were used to. You watch his car leave down the drive, chewing your thumbnail in thought. This had gone beyond your original intention, hadn't it?

"Fuck." you swear out loud to only yourself in your bedroom, shaking your head. "You silly, silly girl. What have you done?"

You sit in the comfiest chair in your room by the fire, the autumn air starting to chill you even in the daytime. You pull your thick dressing gown around you and settle in, placing a phone call. There had only ever been one man previously in your life that you'd always trusted and you knew loved you and would never do you any harm. That was your uncle Altar. And seeing as you've found yourself in dire need of good advice, you call your favorite man in the world, the only man that had ever been a father to you.

"Surely the operator is lying, no way my little Lily is calling me out of nowhere?" you can picture his big grin under his beard, brown eyes so similar to yours shining with amusement as he spoke.

"She was not lying it's me." you say softly.

"Oh my favorite niece, it is a beautiful sound to hear you speak again my dear." he coos.

"And the most comforting to hear yours, uncle." you reply in earnest.

"What do I owe this pleasure my sweet princess?" he asks, getting to the point, just like he always had.

"I hate to admit that what I'm calling for is both, for you, seemingly good and bad news."

"Oh, Genevieve, my darling, what's happened? Are you alright?"

"That's debatable." you say with a bit of humor to your voice and you hear his warm laughter that makes you smile.

"Out with it, c'mon, who knows how long I've got on this earth, tell me before it's too late." he jokes.

"I find myself in need of some advice."

"And you've come to me? Oh, bless you, child, I'll talk the ears off your head, please go on."

"You're not going to believe this...I hardly believe it myself." you sigh.

"When it comes to you absolutely nothing could surprise me." he teases, it makes you smile. You missed him so.

"I've met someone."

"And I stand corrected." his voice goes higher pitched in surprise.

"And it's a man."

"Well fuck me, Lilly you've gone and got me all excited. Who is this demi-God, for he must be to have captured a demon's attention like yourself." his voice holds nothing but affection for you.

"I'm afraid it's more than a bit complicated. I'm not sure how to move forward, or if I even should...with my feelings for him I mean."

"If it's love how can it be that complicated?" he says supportively.

"I am very fond of the man but don't get ahead of yourself." you chuckle.

"No such words have been spoken. We're not even a couple really. I started sleeping with him out of convenience as he was a handsome friend and my idiot self has gone and started to go all doe-eyed and crave him romanticly and not just physically." your voice is grumpy now.

"Better to be friends first anyway. Don't be like me and jump into marriages over a great pair of tits and some tricks in the bedroom." you both laugh.

"I did learn that lesson from you." you chuckle, "Too bad you can't learn it yourself." you joke. "Although his tits and tricks are rather nice." you giggle.

"Oh don't try to change the subject dear, please, tell me who this man is so I may give this advice you seek."

You take a deep breath. "His name is Alfie Solomons. He's the leader of the Jewish Gangs in London." you feel your heart beat in the pause that follows.

"Fuck me girl, that is complicated isn't it?" his voice is still light. "Don't get me wrong, I'm elated at the news myself. You know I have no issue with that."

"I know you don't."

"In fact I prefer it." he chuckles. "A tough man that can provide and protect you." you can practically feel his chest puff up with pride over the phone. "Not that you require that darling."

"I know."

"So you have gone and gotten into the underbelly of London I see." his voice more judgey this time.

"I have." your voice flat.

"You said you weren't." his voice is still full of tease, he knew you too well.

"I know." you admit sheepishly.

"I knew you would, my child it is in your blood." he says proudly.

"Don't tell mum, please." your voice pleading slightly.

"I wouldn't! Wait, bought the crime or the man?" he laughs.

"Fucking both." he laughs again and you smile with it this time. You let out a heavy sigh into the receiver. He breaks the silence.

"Does your father know?" he asks, voice more serious.

"I've not been contacted but I've heard rumors he has. He wouldn't know of my feelings for the man, just the working together." you softly explain.

"Well that's a bit of good luck." he offers.

"If that's what you want to call it." you roll your eyes.

"Are you worried about him?" his tone more concerned.

"I'm afraid I was conditioned to be." you weakly admit.

"You've gotten rid of a lot of the things you were conditioned to be, dear." he says supportively.

"He's the hardest to shake yet." The dream come back into your mind and you feel the sting of tears. "What if he comes for me? Or what if he comes for Alfie? What if he tries to take away everything?" he can hear the choking in your throat from holding back tears.

"You've not been on his money for years, my sweet." trying to build up your confidence.

"I know but what if he tries. I've worked so hard." you rasp out, hand covering your mouth, eyes shutting as you begin to cry.

"I know that better than most anyone, love." his voice is so sweet and caring, exactly what you'd needed and hoped to hear. "Is this Solomons worth the risk?" his voice prys, and you let it.

You pause, sighing and looking into the fire as you wipe away a stray tear. "I don't know." he hears you sniffle and realizes this is quite serious for you. But otherwise, you wouldn't have called him about it if it hadn't been. "I've just..." you take a shaky inhale. "I've never met a man who would be and here I am...risking punishment from my bastard father over one who could be. Exactly where I said I'd never be. Afraid of my father and afraid of my feelings and-" he can tell you're getting worked up and cuts you off.

"Hiding." he interrupts, his voice sterner, but he knew that's what you needed.

He hears your sob despite how you move your face away from the phone.

"I've always told you, you can do anything, my little Lilly. I have always believed that. As soon as I held you in my arms, I knew you were different. I don't mean to come at you so hard dear, you know I hate to upset you... but don't you see the root of all that trouble?" his voice is more desperate, wishing he could hold his darling niece in his arms and comfort her like he used to.

"Me?" you say weakly, it hurts him deep in his soul that that was the answer you gave.

"No! No, no, absolutely not, cheri. Try again." his voice kind and warm again.

Alfie certainly wasn't the problem, just the side effect. So was it men? Were you truly weak to men? Also no. Then your father. "Father." you whisper out.

"You have always been smart my child. You do not need him to approve of you."

"I know that."

"Do you? Because you're still denying what you are and when you came to me that summer after you left home...."

"I remember."

"You said you'd never let another man tell you what you could or couldn't be. And what does he still do?"

Your anger surpasses your sadness with his words. He was right, but of course, he was.

"He did it to your mother. He's done it to your brothers and sisters. You are not like them. You know where your soul lies. You didn't have it trained out of you, domesticated like some beast. That's not you, is it Lilly?" he asks, voice harsh.

"No." your voice matches his and he is so pleased to hear the fire burning in you again.

"Then what do you have to do?" his tone is slightly condescending but warranted.

"Not hide anymore." the fire in the fireplace reflects in your eyes, burning down into your chest and possibly down into your very soul.

"That's my girl." he cheers. ------- You're in your office, chewing your lip at the ledger for Abeille. You hear a knock on the door.

"Come in." you say passively.

Claire says, holding one single letter in her hands. You can tell by her body language that something's wrong. "This came for you." she say softly, laying the letter in front of you on the desk. You shut the book and move your face to see what she's sat down.

"Fuck." you rasp out, hesitantly picking it up and rising from your chair. "I suppose this was inevitable." you say weakly, a groan to your voice as you move around your desk to the fireplace to get a good look at it. It was from the address of your father's office.

"I've been on edge waiting for it honestly. Or a phone call or God forbid he show up here." she shudders at the thoughts.

"I've been worried as well." you let out a heavy sigh. "Let's see what threats the jellyfish bastard has for me then." you roll your eyes and open the envelope. "From the secretary-" you scoff loudly. "Not even signed from him." you shake your head."Couldn't be arsed to write a letter to his daughter...fucks' sake." you clear your throat. " From the secretary of George Greene III..." you scan over the letter. "Your father has asked me to write to you to express his distaste for the news of you working with the Jewish gangs that he's received from London. He would like to remind you of the family's agreement and orders that you cut off your ties with them. In his mercy, he is willing to forgive this oversight in your judgment. If you do not cease and follow his demands, he will be forced to take further action against you." You swing your head to Claire, a deeply annoyed look on your face.

"Sounds about right." she says with a stiff face and angry eyes.

"I don't know about you Claire...but I'm about fucking tired of his bullshit." you say with vigor.

Claire smirks, happy to see some fire in your eyes. She hated your father almost as much as you did. "You know I prefer to not live in anyone's shadow. Especially those I do not respect." she gives a single controlled head nod.

"I fucking hate him." you say with absolute certainty. You roll your eyes and let out a heavy sigh, "I spoke with Altar..." you begin.

Claire grins, she loved your Uncle. "This should be good." she smirks.

"Oh it is!" you give her a bright smile. "After giving me a much needed talking to about who I am now, and where I've come from. How I don't live on his money and I rule without hate, unlike him, I believe it might be time to give 'ol daddy the big, fuck you that I've longed to my entire life."

"Oh." her eyes wide, not expecting this."Really? And he supports this?"

"You know he hates him more than anyone." you speak with passion. "Perhaps it's time to expose George for what he really is." your eyes narrow. You give a single strong nod, balling up the letter and throwing it into the fire.

"Never thought I'd see the day but I can't tell you how equally happy and fearful I am." she offers with an unsure smile.

"Me too Claire." you move to her and place your hand on her shoulder.

"But isn't it time we got out of that monsters shadow? He doesn't deserve the sunlight on his skin, we deserve it on ours instead." you speak with certainty, back straight and eyes bright.

"I"m with you no matter what Genevieve." she puts her hand on top of yours.

"And to celebrate a small victory, to indulge in a bit of childish rebellion, I'm going to go and fuck the leader of the Jewish gangs in London." you say with a warm laugh.

"I can't even argue with it at this point." she grins. "The man's growing on me, I'll admit."

"He's growing on me as well." you say with a coy smile, a mischieveous smile on your face as you both look at each other.

"Don't think I haven't noticed." she says with a tilt of her head.

"Can't hide anything from you, can I Claire bear?" you lilt out, looking at her over your shoulder before crossing into the hallway.

"I know you better than you know yourself, Genevieve. Go have your fun." she smiles and waves her hand for you to go on.

She never thought letting Alfie into the house would end well. She never thought that he would bring on what she'd always wanted for you. Peace of mind. She knew that cutting the cord to your father, letting go of that hate for him and the hate he'd put of yourself into you, that even if it all crashed and burned that the weight off yours, hers and Aggie's hearts might just be worth the trouble. ----- "Alfie!" you lilt out, a devilish smile on your lips, and an exaggerated sway to your hips as you enter the study to find him seated on the couch.

"What is it Genny?" his eyes raise from the papers in his hands, head still facing downward.

"You've been working all day and night, darling." you say with a pout that makes his eyes narrow.

"That's because I got a lot to fuckin' do, luv." his faces raises, a small smirk on his face.

You stand over him, one hand in your hair, twisting a curl around your finger, the other reaching out to run through his hair. "Why don't you take a break, handsome?"

The touch is welcome but he hesitates, he really did have a lot to do. "Eh..." his mouth opens in a gruff stutter, shoulder shrugging slightly. "Didn't want to lose me focus."

You sit next to him, one leg bent up on the seat, torso facing him. "You're stressed, sweetheart."

"Of fuckin' course I am I got all these fuckin' leeches tryin' to bleed me fuckin' dry 'n that's not even the worst of it, I-" he begins, he sees your eyes narrow at him from under your thick lashes and he knows to stop his complaints. "Right." he groans out, eyes narrowing back at you mouth hanging open for a moment. He huffs noisily out of his nostrils and sets the papers down on the table in front of him. "Get that fuckin' look off ya face." he says as if he's angry with you, but you know it to be false. The sly smile you give him makes him more certain of the decision not to run you off. "'Ello luv." he says, resting a hand on your knee. "How are you this evenin'." his lips pout at the delivery of the words, his body and attention now on you.

"Wet, Alfie." your eyes grow dark, your teeth grazing over your plush bottom lip as you say his name.

A low groan comes from his throat, eyes now looking you up and down.

"I wanted to help you clear your mind..." you say sweetly but it's entirely a front as your fingers walk their way up this thigh. "And your balls." your eyes swing up to his, your tongue peaks out your grinning lips at him.

"I wunnit lyin' 'bout bein' busy." he says, almost as a warning, chin pushing into his chest.

"Then I'll just have to be quick about it, won't I?" you whisper against his lips. You ignore his tone and move to push his back against the sofa with your hands on his shoulders. You continue speaking as you lower yourself to your knees in front of him, between his legs. "I find myself craving you very specifically and strongly tonight, Solomons." you say as your fingers work to undo his belt and buttons to get to the twitching length of him. "And I'm not going to take no for an answer when I really....really want something... am I?" you quirk a brow up at him, a wicked smile on your recently licked lips.

"No you are not, pet." he groans out, his hands resting at his sides, just soaking up the attention and the need he saw in your eyes.

You take him out of his pants, not all the way hard yet and you purr at the opportunity. You take him into your mouth with no verbal response back as you hear the hiss escape his lips. You press your nose into his stomach, tongue swirling and lips sucking away at him, feeling him grow hard in your mouth. One of your favorite things, and something you rarely got to indulge in with him. You moan around him, you feel a groan grow as you run one of your hands up under his shirt to drag down his broad chest, the other around his back to firmly grasp at his bum.

Once he's back to his usual diamond level hardness, you slide him out of your mouth, saliva still connecting your lips to his tip as you pull away, wrapping a hand around him to work him as you spoke. "Feeling you get hard in my mouth like that gets me so wet, Fie." your eyes burn into his, tongue out of your mouth and lapping at him in an exaggerated way, cycling from licks to indulgent sucks of his now red tip.

His sexy half smile, a huff of laugh that moves his chest at your words makes you moan around his head again. "You like 'at do ya?" his confident and cocky tone back to where you desired it.

"I love it." you say, your mouth never leaving his cock.

"Fuck Gen." he rasps out as you work him with your hand and your mouth simultaneously. "If it's a ride you're wantin' you better hurry the fuck up before the train leaves the fuckin' station." he laughs, hand moving to hold back your hair.

You give him a big charming smile as you let him pop out of your mouth. "Wouldn't want to miss that now would I?" you whisper against his lips, leaning over him, quickly removing your silk underwear, hitching up your skirt and straddling his legs.

His hands grab at your thighs, smacking their sides at the sight of your stocking and garters, pinching the soft flesh just so in the most appealing way. HIs nostrils and brow twitch watching you reach down to rub yourself for a few breaths time, his hands now firm on your arse and kneading away. You lean forward to kiss him, a firm slap to your arse in response as your tongues mingle among your crashing lips. You raise up your hips, and being the gentleman he is, he holds himself so you can lower onto him. You rise up away from his face, hand yanking down the neckline of your dress, exposing your breasts and his hands move quickly towards your heaving chest, and just like a baker he gets his strong, ringed hands kneading on you again.

"Oh, fuck Alfie." you whimper as you take him into you completely, now resting hip to hip against him. You waste no time as promised, running your hands up his chest. Your back arched to kiss him as you rest one hand on the back of the couch, gripping the hard wooden trim for support, the other, sliding up his neck, fingers nesting in his beard as you feverishly kiss him.

You move slowly at first, drinking in his moans as a hand moves under your skirt to hold you by the hip, guiding you along. You set a steady pace, the heavy thud against him gives the pressure you crave, feeling the pleasure building now, you break the kiss and rise up, placing your hands on his shoulders, moving up and down at a steadily increasing rate, your breathing matched in passionate panting as you look into each other's eyes. The first moan from you breaks the eye contact, your head falling back as you move to grind back and forth against him.

"Ah, that's it now, luv." he groans out, one hand still on your hip tightly encouraging the movement from you as he knew it'd bring you closer sooner, watching your hips drag and swivel, he licks his lips at the feeling, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. You take his other hand, placing it on your hips as well, drawing his attention back to your undulating body on top of his.

"Hold me tighter," you command with a gentle nod of your chin. He obeys and his white-knuckled fingers squeeze, pushing you down harder onto him as you whimper out with growing need. "That's it, good boy." your eyes shut but the wicked smile remains. "You feel too fucking good I'm getting close." he knows this position can finish you off quickly but your slower paced approach surprises him once again. "Keep hold of me." you whisper, leaning up, hands on the back of the couch as you rise and fall with a pounding force on him, still slow, steady steps to get to your destination together. Your chest now directly in his face, your tits knock about on his cheeks and he snakes his head around to suck one nipple into his mouth, causing your mouth to drop open and your chest to bounce as you let out a small, helpless sound gasp. He moans as the pace grows quicker, both hands still held onto your hips, slamming himself up into you as you crashed down against him, a moan knocked out of you each time with your deep breaths.

His lapping tongue is distracting, panting and roaming against the hard nub, taking it between his teeth and nibbling with taunting pressure the louder your sounds together became. You can feel the throbbing grow more intense, him moving inside you just so with the direction of your swiveling hips, "How do feel so fucking good inside me, Alfie?" you whine, your whole back now twisting as you gave over to the feeling.

"It's these fucking serpentine hips of yours you wicked thing." he huffs out, hand reaching up to pull your lips to his, he needed you. He needed your breath mingling with his as he bites and sucked away at your mouth that cried out for him. His other hand disobeys orders, reach up to grasp your breast tightly, thumb and index fingers pinching and rolling your nipple. He plants his feet firmly on he ground and bucks up into you hard, making you loudly cry out his name. He responds with a growl. "Fuckin'g take it Gen. You know how much I love making you come all over this cock." he huffs out in an intoxicatingly dominate voice.

"Oui." you whine out against his lips, resting your bobbing forehead against his when you had to catch your breath. Your eyes are tightly shut. "Fuck." your chest stutters as you let out the prolonged cry for him. His teeth hold your bottom lip with a pinch. "You're going to make this little cunt come for you, Alfie." moan out helplessly, your body being pumped into fiercely underneath with the full power of hips. You couldn't have stopped yourself if you'd wanted to. Your ears ring and your hands tremble against his shoulders, a high pitched, sharp gasp of breath is the only sound that leaves you as you give him what he asked for with open, trembling lips.

Once the tremors have mostly passed, you can open your eyes, another sharp gasp of breath against him. His teeth now gnashed together, his jaw tight, heavy, masculine grunts and growls fill the space between your bodies as his hands move to your hips to hold you and fuck up into you to finish himself off. You tighten yourself around him, your head swinging to the side, mouth and tongue moving fast against his neck and up to his ears and back again, moaning into his thick beard and pouring dirtyy words into his ear to finish him off. "Come for me, 'Fie. I want you to fill up this little cunny you magnificent beast. I'm absolutely soaked from that thick cock of yours. Make it even wetter for me, would you? Make a fucking mess of me, darling." you hiss and rasp into his ear, your tongue working its' way into its grooves and panting as you wrap your arms around his neck to hold him close. He lets out a loud and guttural moan, a hand slapping your arse hard. "That's it," you say in a condescending tone, your hips pounding back into his. "This tight little cunt's going to make this cock mine, do you understand?" you growl, hand tugging at the hair at the back of his neck. "You're going to fucking come because it's what I want. And you'll give me anything I want won't you Solomons?" your voice is dark and directly antagonizing and his eyes roll back in his head. Fuck he loved your filthy mouth.

"Fuck!" he growls, eyes meeting yours as your lick the sweat from the side of his face. "Anything." he helplessly moans out into your smirking mouth.

"Then fucking come for me, Alfie." you growl, biting down onto his thick bottom lip. You know the strangled sound that squeaks out of his throat, how his fingers press into you, nails breaking the skin that he's giving you what you want in that moment. Holding himself inside you, before finishing off with a final few hard thrusts to finish the job.

As his soul falls back into his body, his eyes focus, hand moving to the back of your head, pushing you against his mouth, a deep and passionate kiss builds, despite your hips powering down. As you move to a slow and wet pace, lips smacking together, broken with smiles and happy hums between the two of you, you lean to kiss the tip of his nose.

"That's a good boy now, hmm?" your smile isn't condescending like the words would suggest. Your fingers wipe the sweat from his forehead gently, smoothing his hair back and gazing down at him.

The look in your eyes doesn't go missed by him, in combination with the warm smile and the soft tone you praised him with, he basks in the heavenly sight of you looking down on him adoringly. That's what it was, wasn't it? A sparkle that hadn't been there the last time he looked. What had he done to deserve a woman like you looking at him like that? He didn't know, but he didn't want you to look at him any other way again.

Pt 43 Daddy Issues

@fangirlfreakingout @jaegeeeeer @cosettewinchester @lookuptheskyisfalling-blog @brianaisasongbird @cry5t4l-w4rri0r @iliveonchocolateandnetflix @jess2464 @hardygal69 @thegarrisonpublichouse @a-flock-of-angry-pigeons @pootle @negansdirtygirl22 @musingsby-night @wtf-is-wrong-with-this @shine-dont-shadow @inkinterrupted @vale0413 @lafayettes-baguettes-1 @sxlomons @aphnxrising @emerald-bijou

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yellowsugarwords · 6 years

Text

Walking Dead Game FanFiction - “Drugged Up”

Title: Drugged Up

Characters: Clementine, Javier, Eleanor, Gabe

Summary: After getting injured on a run, Eleanor gives Clementine a dose of pain medicine, maybe a little too much. With Clem now feeling loopy, Javi and the others see the child actually be a child for the first time.

Author's Note: I don’t know if this is good but I triiiiiied

Requested By: Anonymous

support me with ko-fi ♡

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“Is she okay? How long is she going to be in there? Can we see her?”

Eleanor paused, fingers lingering against the infirmary’s doorknob. Her stare detached itself from Gabe and the rapid fire of questions he was firing, and instead settled on Javier.

He merely shrugged, deepening his lean against the infirmary’s wall.

“Gabe, please try to calm down.” She sighed, clicking the door closed behind her. “She’s going to be fine. It’s not a big--”

“I’m worried about her!” He scoffed, arms flailing at her unreasonable request. In a huff, they stopped and crossed. “I want to know what state she’s in.”

“It was a big fall.”

Javi scoffed. “It wasn’t that big.”

“Can it, Javi.” The teen spat, his unwavering gaze stuck on their nurse. “Yes or no, can we see her?”

Eleanor hesitated, crossing her arms to mirror the boy. “No, not yet.”

Gabe scoffed, his arms collapsing. “I thought you said she was going to be fine? That it wasn’t a big deal?”

“It’s not,” she continued, raising an eyebrow at the point he was trying to make. “That doesn’t mean she doesn’t need to rest. Besides, I gave her a pretty big dose of painkillers.”

Javi pushed himself upright, standing beside his nephew. “How much is ‘plenty’?” He posed, arms crossing to challenge the female. Now his stance, too, was that of concern.

Eleanor hesitated, his gaze sweeping over the two before scoffing and shaking her head. “Are you guys serious?”

“I’m,” Javi began, pausing to let a frustrated sigh slip through his teeth. He released one arm to scratch the back of his head.

Gabe tore his gaze from the woman to study his uncle, intrigued as to why he was suddenly on his side.

“I’m worried about how much pain she’s in. Especially if she needed painkillers.” His arms crossed, his stance firm. Protective, even. “I want to know how serious her sprain is.”

Eleanor didn’t say a word and merely crossed her arms, keeping an eyebrow lifted.

Javi scoffed, his arms throwing down to his sides. “We care about her, Eleanor. We want to know how bad she’s going to feel.”

Gabe’s eyes widened, silently admiring his uncle. While he knew Javi cared for the girl, obviously given their history of teamwork, he didn’t know where he stood on an emotional level. This cleared that right up. He snapped himself out of his trance, clearing his throat and returning to his defensive stance. “We want to help her however we can.”

Her skepticism gradually fell, her smirk replacing itself with a genuine smile. As much as Javi tried to seem like the tough guy, he had a very prominent soft heart. “Her pain won’t be too bad.” She assured, her hands falling to her hips. “I gave her extra painkillers to ensure that. She might be a little loopy.”

“Loopy?” Gabe questioned, the grip on his arms tightening.

“What do you mean by loopy?”

Eleanor, already starting away from the infirmary, shrugged her shoulders. “Everyone reacts differently to pain killers.” She claimed over her shoulder.

The two men watched silently as she wandered away, arms crossed, before turning to look at each other. In sync, they both nodded, turned on their heels, and darted inside.

Gabe entered first with Javi closing the door behind them. Just as the door clicked shut, Gabe had already thrown himself partway up the stairwell.

Richmond was lucky that their infirmary had enough space and equipment to render two-stories. The first floor was for “easy-fix” issues according to Eleanor — mainly minor bandage wraps or lesser painkillers. The second floor — where Clem sat — was for the more serious injuries.

While Clementine’s sprained ankle could’ve been a lot worse, Eleanor moved her upstairs to give her better access to wrap the ankle, as well as patch up the rest of her leg, mainly covered in cuts and bruises. It also gave her a chance to drug Clem up and leave her to rest peacefully before being thrust back into the working world.

The moment Gabe hit the second floor, she was the only person in sight.

She was sitting upright on the edge of her bed, staring out a window directly ahead of her. Her right pant leg was rolled up to the knee with bandages wound around the ankle, and smaller band aids applied to any other cuts on her leg.

Hearing the creaking of floorboards, the teen’s head turned, detaching her lingering stare from the outside world. She lingered on the boy, her stare still and emotionless, before becoming a smile.

“Clem,” Gabe sighed, scuttling forwards to sit on the bed across from her. He beamed the entire while. “How are you feeling? Are you doing okay?”

The girl blinked slowly, almost sleepily. Despite her lips parting as if she wanted to speak, she remained silent.

Javier slipped into the room, his look of eager concern falling as he saw the two face-to-face. Gabe looked up, offering a meek smile. He offered one back in return.

Clementine, however, had a different reaction to his entrance. She pointed a finger in his direction, her lips still parted. She blinked, licked her lips, and held the same pose for a beat longer.

Javier nervously let his eyes drift to the left, then the right, before landing back on her. “Hi, Clem?”

Her lips closed. Her eyes, after blinking slowly, grew softer. It was as if the fog of confusion that hung over them vanished at the sound of his voice. She smiled sweetly, giving a wave.

“Clem?” Gabe asked again, hoping to catch her attention again. He let a hand dip forwards, gently resting against her knee. The touch instantly forced a smile onto him. A genuine one. “Are you feeling okay?”

The touch caught the girl’s interest, her head whipping at the contact. Her body swayed at the intensity of the motion, but calmed after a moment. “Yes!” She responded with a grin. “I’m fine!”

Gabe’s smile grew more tender at her odd excitement, and from afar, Javier’s smile grew. The sight of the two of them always made him grin, it was just a bonus was that Clem was feeling better than he could have hoped.

Clementine’s gaze melted into one of confusion, clearing her throat before speaking. “Where’s,” she paused, a finger lifting into the air. Her gaze squinted, focusing on the wall just past Gabe’s head. “The girl?” She finally finished, her eyes closing as the words slipped out.

“The girl?” Gabe questioned. He leaned forward, as if trying to prod her for an answer.

Javi hesitated, a finger resting on his chin. “Eleanor?”

Clem nodded, her eyes still closed, with her hands forcing themselves deeper into her mattress.

“She left after she finished patching you up.”

Clementine giggled softly, with the chuckles gradually getting louder and louder. Gabe and Javier passed each other concerned stares, silently passing messages without words.

“Clem--?”

“Patching me up,” she forced through her giggles. “It sounds like I’m a balloon.”

Javi and Gabe, silently, exchanged intrigued stares.

“Clem,” Javi began hesitantly. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

His concerns were ignored when Clementine, pushing her hands deeper into the mattress, forced herself onto her feet. “Yes,”

“Clem!” Gabe leapt to his feet, gasping as Clementine stumbled. Her hands captured her arms, helping her steady herself on her good foot. “Clem, you need to pace yourself.”

“Pfft,” she scoffed, giggling as she wobbled. “I’m fine. I feel perfectly fine.”

Javier, silently, raised an eyebrow.

Clementine giggled as she fumbled out of the teen’s grasp, making her way away from the bed and drawing closer to where Javier was: blocking the door.

“Clem!” Gabe scoffed, jumping after her. He was able to set a hand against one of her shoulders, gently stunting her movement. His hand slipped around her shoulders, holding her upright and in place a few paces before Javier. “You don’t need to rush anywhere.”

Javier already had his hands out, ready to capture the girl before she tumbled, when his nephew bet him to it. The adult’s gaze softened, concern riddling beneath his forced, calm smile. “Just calm down Clem, okay? You messed up your ankle pretty bad back there.”

“Psssh,”

Javier smirked, arms crossing in interest at her confidence. “Don’t ‘psssh’ me. You know I’m right.”

“Psssh,” she claimed again, reaching her arm out to try to brush past him. She fumbled, but Gabe’s ginger touch was able to steady her before she could fall.

Javier snorted, leaning against the side of the stairwell’s arch. “Painkiller-high Clem is a fun one.”

“Javi,” Gabe groaned.

“I think it’s my favourite version of her.”

“Thank you!” Clem beams, her head flopping against Gabe’s shoulder.

Gabe instantly froze. He could feel the tips of his ears flare, but the instant he saw Javi’s knowing glance — a raised eyebrow and a cocky smirk — he scoffed and adjusted his hold on her. “Let’s go downstairs.” He breathed, lowering his head from his uncle’s stare. “You need some water and fresh air.”

Clementine laughed, planting her good foot firmly into the floor. It was planted so well that Gabe stumbled trying to bring her forwards. He slipped in front of her, giving the female a quizzical stare. His hands held onto her elbows, and in response her hands settled on top of his arm.

“I can’t walk down the stairs.” She claimed, her hands tightening on the male.

The touch caused the shade in his ears to deepen. He prayed his uncle couldn’t see. “What do you mean?” He forced out.

“I can’t walk.” She claimed with a shrug. Her gaze, suddenly snapping to one of intensity opposed to playfulness, caught the male off guard. “Piggyback me.”

Gabe choked on his spit. “What?”

“Piggyback me.” She said again, slightly slower this time, perfectly highlighting the faint slur her pain medication had given her. “It’ll be fun!”

“Fun?”

“Oh yeah Gabe,” Javi pushed, jetting his head closer to the male. This time, his smirk was painfully present. “It’ll be lots of fun.”

Gabe shot a glare.

Before he had a chance to speak, Clementine tugged at Gabe’s arms, guiding him into turning around. “I’m not heavy, don’t worry,” she claimed cheekily, giggling as she spoke.

After a moment of hesitation, shifting back and forth on each foot, before kneeling down. As Clementine flopped all her weight onto Gabe’s back, her arms wrapped around his neck, he was glad his kneel hid his blush. Lifting her bad leg first, one-by-one the male captured her legs and hoisted her onto his back.

“Let’s go!” She cooed, her legs gently kicking in excitement.

Gabe smirked, turning to send a stare to Javi before starting down the stairs. As he did, he noticed Javi’s smile had changed. It wasn’t a cocky know-it-all grin — it was a sincere and sweet smile. Seeing Gabe’s stare meet his, he nodded, almost one of pride.

Gabe chuckled hearing the girl’s breath hitch at their first step down, but the farther they went, the more she calmed. Gradually, she began to hum, her head dipping into the nook of Gabe’s neck. Now that she was off her feet, paired with the gentle swaying of each footstep, she could feel herself drifting into peaceful rest. The grips of her hands loosened, flopping down in front of the teen’s chest, swaying sleepily back and forth.

When Gabe hit the bottom of the stairs, he hesitated, confused as to why he wasn’t getting any reaction. “Clem?” He asked softly, her gentle breathing tickling his ears.

Before he could take action, the front door pushed open. In walked Eleanor, coffee in one hand and the doorknob in her other. Upon looking up, she spotted the two teens clinging to one another with Javi wandering down the stairs, a hand cupped over his mouth to suppress prideful giggles.

At the sight, the medic scoffed, taking a long drawl of her coffee with a grin. “Told you she would be fine.”

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