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swaps55 · 3 years

Text

Mnemonic

This is an AU version of a standalone scene from Cantata that I rewrote with kissing. Because there was a lot of UST and I am weak.

Ao3

14 June 2180, Hades Gamma, Farinata System, SSV Myeongnyang

For a biotic, the armor never really comes off. What they carry under their skin is like a live wire, a current always in need of grounding.

Standing face-to-face with half a dozen L2 biotics holding the chairman of the Parliament Subcommittee for Transhuman Studies hostage on the MSV Ontario makes it a lot easier for Kaidan to see how much he takes for granted having a safe place to do it. And knowing how.

Reparations for the L2 side effects are a pipe dream. But a pipe dream Colin Daggett and his people needed to cling to, whatever the cost. And it had almost cost them everything.

Shepard doesn’t say much as they arrange for the survivors to be transferred to the Madrid’s brig and the engineering crew arrives to secure the Ontario for the trip to Arcturus. He says even less on the way through the airlock back to the ‘Yang, and the rest of the squad take their lead from him.

When they’re back on board the ship he disappears, sucking the air out of the room with him. They kit down without him.

“You’re an L2, aren’t you?” Pendergrass asks as she shoves her arms through the sleeves of her uniform, armor plating in a heap at her feet.

Beaudoin jabs her with an elbow.

“Yeah,” Kaidan murmurs, fingers tracing the amp port on the back of his neck when he removes the protection plate. He flexes his fingers, gravity well jumping into his touch. As he reaches for his chest plate to store it in his gear locker, an electric shock passes through him.

When 23:00 rolls around, Kaidan shows up in the mess as usual, figuring he’ll keep it simple tonight and just make some pasta. Shepard is there waiting, as usual, picking at a spot on the table while Kaidan pulls out a pot and finds a container of pasta. The entire time the water boils Shepard doesn’t say a word, stubbornly lost in thought.

Kaidan tells himself he’s not going to do more than olive oil and garlic – it’s been too long of a day for effort – but by the time he gets it to the table there’s parmesan cheese, parsley, and even a little red pepper in the mix.

“You going to tell me what’s up, or do I get to guess?” Kaidan asks when he sits down across from him and hands off a fork. He spent too much energy on going above and beyond with the red pepper to bother with a second bowl. They’ll just have to share.

Shepard looks up, almost in surprise. “Just thinking.”

“You’ve been thinking ever since you got Chairman Burns through the airlock. Maybe you should think out loud.”

The gravity well churns as Shepard stirs eddies in it, in tune with the twirl of his fork in the pasta bowl. “Everything that happened on that ship hinged on what Daggett did with his pistol.”

His toying intensifies, until blue energy shimmers around his knuckles. This one’s been chewing at him. A snap of electricity skips between his finger and the fork, and he drops it with an annoyed mutter. He looks up.

“You pulled the gun out of his hands,” he says.

And Shepard had put a bullet between his eyes. The fight had gone out of the rest pretty quickly.

“He wasn’t going to put it down,” Kaidan says. “We all knew it.”

“No. He wasn’t. And if you hadn’t been there, that standoff turns into a clusterfuck where everyone dies.”

A soft smile tugs at Kaidan’s lips. “Guess it’s a good thing I was there.”

Shepard picks up the fork again, staring at it with an unfocused gaze before he stabs it back in the bowl and twirls more pasta.

“I couldn’t have done what you did. I can’t refine a field like that. I was prepared to shoot everyone in that room. But you pulled the gun right out of his hands.”

Only because Shepard had given him the chance. Whether Shepard had done it with purpose or actually hesitated is a question he hasn’t been in a hurry to examine too closely.

“We work together, remember? In case you hadn’t noticed, we’ve gotten pretty good at it.”

Shepard huffs. “Yeah. We have.”

“But you’re just gonna get bent out of shape about not being able to do everything yourself, anyway.”

“Have you met me?” Shepard says with a helpless shrug.

“Yeah, I’ve had the pleasure,” Kaidan says with a chuckle. He pushes his chair back. “Come on, then.”

Shepard casts him a suspicious look. “Come where?”

“To the gym.”

“Alenko—”

“Come on.” He nods towards the elevator and starts walking, smirking a little when Shepard’s chair scrapes against the floor and his feet hit the deckplates.

“You’re just dying to give me a taste of my own medicine, aren’t you,” Shepard grouches when they board the lift.

“Oh, definitely.”

“You’re the worst.”

“Apparently not when it comes to taking people’s pistols out of their hands.”

Shepard chuckles, though he tries to choke off a smile by looking down at his feet. When they get to the gym Kaidan digs a canteen out of his locker and sets it down on one of the sparring mats.

“I’m guessing that your training didn’t include a lot of control drills,” he says.

Shepard shakes his head. “Tulak wasn’t big on control. Overwhelming tidal force tends to be the krogan approach.”

“You don’t say.”

“Sarcasm does not become you, Alenko.”

Kaidan grins and points to the canteen. “Start simple. Just lift it off the ground.”

Shepard rolls his eyes, but taps into the gravity well, corona enveloping him in a shroud of snapping blue tendrils. The hairs on Kaidan’s arms stand on end.

It’s so rare he gets to just watch Shepard work. All unrestrained power, from the loose, angry snarl of his corona to the sweeping mnemonics, make him seem larger than life. When he swipes the canteen off the floor he does it with his entire arm. The canteen leaps into the air, nearly hitting the ceiling before Shepard wrangles it. He only holds it still for half a second before sending it skidding to the other side of the gym.

“Hm,” Kaidan says.

Shepard gives him a withering look before marching off to fetch the wayward canteen. “It’s small. I don’t do well with small.”

“Not sure the size trips you up as much as you think it does,” Kaidan muses. “That mnemonic of yours applies some pretty impressive force automatically, so you’re already playing catch up if you’re trying to control the speed or direction.”

“See, I can’t tell if you’re complimenting me or giving me shit.”

“Both.”

“Har.”

Shepard resets the canteen and comes back to Kaidan to try it again, standing close but not so close their fields intersect. Kaidan watches through three variations that all end almost the same way, too much force being applied to the canteen, making it nearly impossible for Shepard to control where it goes, or where it doesn’t.

Doesn’t matter that he’s not accomplishing what it intends. The way the gravity well cants under his touch, the way his corona lights him ablaze like a flickering star, the way it caresses every nerve in Kaidan’s body like a swash of silk is mesmerizing. Kaidan swallows before trying to speak.

“Good news is, if we ever need someone to punt a suspicious canteen into space, I know who to call.”

Shepard rolls his eyes. “And if you’re not around to yank pistols out of terrorist hands?”

“Well, first, I will be around. But second, as for the pistol, yanking it towards you isn’t so different from kicking it away from you.” He cracks a grin. “In your case you just need to be prepared to duck.”

“Have I mentioned that separating the pistol from the person holding it wouldn’t end well for anyone?” Shepard says. “If you were to go hold that canteen in your palm and ask me to do what I just did, you wouldn’t like me very much.”

I doubt that.

“One problem at a time,” Kaidan says. “Let’s work on controlling the canteen by itself, then we’ll add clutter.”

“And how do you suggest we do that?”

“You need a new mnemonic. You’re fighting yourself by adding force and trying to take it away at the same time.”

“I’m sensing a metaphor.”

Kaidan smirks. “Think that says more about you than it does me.” Before Shepard can protest he raises an arm. “Watch me. You don’t have to use my mnemonic, but I want you to see something different so you can visualize it.”

Shepard folds his arms across his chest, but does what Kaidan asks. A nervous thrill runs through him at the undivided attention.

Kaidan waves a wrist, a hard-learned, hard-fought mnemonic that now feels as natural as breathing. Dark energy rushes through him, responsive and willing, as his fingers flex and settle a field over the canteen. Very little mass-shifting needed to pick up a light-weight canteen, which makes it tricky to keep from doing exactly what Shepard did – send it spinning out of control. But Kaidan has spent years perfecting his ability to do exactly this, so the canteen rises off the floor until it reaches eye level. Kaidan closes his fist and holds it still, floating almost motionless in mid-air.

“That mnemonic is so damned subtle,” Shepard says with an appreciative shake of his head. A flush builds at the back of Kaidan’s neck.

“Easier for me that way.”

Shepard grunts and unfolds his arms. “I was never good at levitation.”

“Because your mnemonics always apply force.”

“Need force to yank that pistol.”

“Sure, but if you want to control it, you need to learn how to hold it still.”

“I’m not good at still.”

“I know,” Kaidan says, lips curving into a smile. “So come here and let me show you.”

Shepard strays a step closer into Kaidan’s biotic field. The blend of auras creates a low keen through his nerves, familiar but always striking. The canteen wavers before falling to the ground.

“Sorry,” Shepard mumbles, but doesn’t back away.

“It’s fine,” Kaidan says, lifting the canteen again with another float of his palm.

Their eyes lock for a moment before Shepard clears his throat and looks down at Kaidan’s hand.

“You put everything in your wrist.”

“Yeah,” he manages. “You do it all with your arms.”

“Yeah.”

“So maybe, if you’re looking for finesse, try to create a mnemonic that’s a little, uh, smaller.”

“With my wrist.”

“Right. Um, I’ll show you. Here.” He steps in front of Shepard, angling his body to align their right arms. He takes Shepard’s right hand guides it to his wrist, tingle running down his spine when his fingers close around it. Shepard glances at him with soft eyes that stop the breath in his throat, but doesn’t object.

“Hands-on teacher?”

“Best way to learn,” Kaidan replies, gaze flicking to Shepard’s mouth before going back to the canteen. “Just follow my lead. Don’t act on the canteen. Concentrate on what my arm does. Visualize it.”

“Sure,” Shepard murmurs.

Kaidan reaches into the gravity well, his own corona unfurling, a steady candle to Shepard’s flaring torch. Goosebumps rise on Shepard’s arm, a subtle reminder that he’s human after all, one Kaidan is almost never close enough to witness.

He takes a deep breath and flexes his wrist, Shepard’s fingers loose and feather-light against his skin. A crackle of dark energy passes between them before he snares the canteen and turns his wrist palm-up to lift it off the floor, Shepard close enough his breath washes over Kaidan’s cheek. The canteen wavers but Kaidan keeps it afloat for several seconds, the mingle of auras, ripple of kinetic energy and closeness of Shepard enough to make him dizzy.

He lets it go with a clatter and puts space between them.

“Does that help?” he asks, trying not to sound breathless.

“Yeah. It does.” Shepard’s gaze stays on him, still and steady. “Might take a while to hard-wire my brain for something in the wrist.”

“Doesn’t have to be that. It could be something else. But you associate those big movements with force. Take that away, you might have more luck with leaving velocity out of the initial execution, so you can add it how you need it. Have more control over it.”

Shepard’s mouth crooks in a half-smile. “Sure I’m not a lost cause when it comes to control?”

“I’m sure.”

Shepard breaks his gaze and focuses on the canteen, brow furrowed in concentration. Twice he catches himself using his arm, then nearly wrenches his wrist trying to restrict the movement.

“It’s so ingrained,” he says with a shake of his head.

“That’s why they work,” Kaidan says with a smile. “Here.” He steps close once again, positions reversed with his hand on Shepard’s wrist this time. “Let me help.”

“Fuck, your hands are cold,” Shepard says with a laugh.

Hastily, he loosens his grip. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine,” Shepard says with a grin. “Go on.”

Gently, Kaidan closes his fingers again. Shepard trains his eyes on the canteen, though they dart to Kaidan ever so briefly.

Shepard’s corona is so bright, so fierce, it’s a wonder he can wrangle it at all. Kaidan breathes in deep, letting his own kindle, the snick and crackle as they blend together forming a resonant hum that hovers just under his skin.

When Shepard’s arm moves, Kaidan tightens his grip, keeping the motion small. Instead of his usual languid, fluid posture, Shepard’s arm is stiff and resistant against him. The canteen spins in a circle but stays on the ground.

“Breathe, Shepard,” Kaidan says softly. “Just let it happen.”

Shepard inhales deep, like someone trying to relearn how. This time they move together, Kaidan picking up the slack when Shepard falters, until the canteen hovers briefly in the air. It’s more under Kaidan’s control than Shepard’s, but it’s a start, and that’s what matters.

They gutter out and the canteen falls, but Kaidan doesn’t let go and doesn’t step away, not yet, not quite yet, not while the remnants of kinetic energy are still sharp in the air and he has to remind himself to breathe, too.

“How do you do that?” Shepard murmurs. “You worked around me, without…taking over. How do you do that?”

Their eyes lock for just a moment. God Kaidan could get lost there if he’s not careful. “Practice. Years of it.”

Let go.

He means to. He means to. In his head he loosens his hold on Shepard’s wrist, drops his hand away and puts space between them. That’s what he tells himself to do. That’s what he intends to do.

But while he does loosen his grip, instead of fall away, Kaidan’s fingertips brush Shepard’s knuckles, the pad of his thumb running along the round muscle of his palm.

It’s an accident. Just an accident. So many of their touches are, but rather than move or pull away, rather than let it be just another one of those excusable, explainable slips, Shepard exhales, the breath fluttering out of him, then splays his fingers wider, as if making room for Kaidan’s to slot between them.

Let go, let go.

But instead he explores the open space Shepard has left for him, fingertips light, hesitant, ghosting Shepard’s skin as he finds where they fit, hovering, hoping, but never daring to rest. Never giving up the ruse.

It’s an accident. It doesn’t mean anything.

Except it does.

Shepard stays still as a stone save for the rise and fall of his chest. They’re close enough now their cheeks almost touch, though whether Kaidan moves or Shepard does to close that gap he can’t say.

The next time Kaidan’s fingers trespass through that open space, Shepard closes his around them and traps them there.

Kaidan’s breath hitches.

The gravity well sighs as Shepard calls to it, glow of dark energy limming their hands, accompanied by a soundless hum that strums every nerve in Kaidan’s body before settling in his groin. Without thinking his other hand comes to rest on Shepard’s hip, needing something, anything, to hold onto.

A soft sound stirs in Shepard’s throat. Kaidan’s hand doesn’t stay on that hip for long, because Shepard seeks those fingers out, too, lacing them together. Kaidan folds both arms until Shepard is surrounded by them. There’s no imagining any space between them now – their cheeks rest against each other, Kaidan tightening his hold until Shepard is snug against his chest.

Shepard turns his head, but after briefly meeting each other’s gaze, his eyes drift down to Kaidan’s mouth.

Kaidan can still let go. There’s still a way out. Chalk it up to adrenaline, nerves leftover from the standoff on the Ontario. They can walk it off, laugh, pretend it never happened, continue on like they always have.

But he doesn’t let go, and then the millimeters between Shepard’s lips and Kaidan’s no longer exist and the window is gone.

Shepard’s mouth is warm, soft, lips tinged with the salt of his sweat. They start out slow, cautious, neither of them daring to think about it too hard, but that’s not a problem for long, because soon there’s no room to think about anything at all.

Nothing else matters but this.

Slow and cautious becomes deep and headlong, Kaidan pushing his tongue between Shepard’s teeth, Shepard sighing into his mouth and taking him in. His fingers tighten around Kaidan’s, the glow of dark energy rippling out from their joined hands until it swallows them whole. Kaidan gasps at the sensation.

Shepard kisses him harder.

God.

Kaidan wants to spin him around, throw his arms around his neck and meet him head on, give in to everything, all of it, but he can’t bear the thought of turning loose of that hand.

They part when they run out of air, both straining to catch their breath, fingers still entwined, Shepard still firmly ensconced in Kaidan’s arms as his corona fades.

Shepard rests his cheek against Kaidan’s, ensconcing himself a little further.

“Oh,” he says softly.

“Yeah.”

Shepard’s fingers flex within his, twining and retwining, never letting go.

“You…don’t seem surprised.”

Kaidan closes his eyes, breathing him in, a star he’s somehow pulled down out of the heavens and trapped right here in his arms. “No. Felt it…for a long time now.”

“Oh.”

“…Yeah.”

Their coronas may have faded, but the mingle of their biotic fields is a constant, soothing whisper under Kaidan’s skin. A small, contented sound slips from Shepard’s throat.

“Why didn’t I see it?”

Kaidan huffs. “To be fair, I don’t think either of us are very good at this kind of thing.”

Shepard tightens his grip on Kaidan’s fingers and pulls them to his chest. The race of Shepard’s heart thrums under their joined hands. If Kaidan had any illusions about letting him go, they’re gone now.

“I think I’d like to learn,” Shepard says.

Kaidan’s stomach flips. “Me too.”

They stay still, Kaidan content to hold him, Shepard content to be held, until their lips find each other once more. Kissing Shepard is easy, effortless, like it’s something they were meant to do, a safe place for the live current running under their skin to go to ground.

Shepard, against all evidence to the contrary, is…safe.

Shepard gazes at him when they part, and butterflies cut loose in Kaidan’s stomach.

“You’re very good at that,” Shepard murmurs.

“We’re very good at a lot of things.”

“Yeah. We are.” He draws Kaidan’s hand up to press a kiss to his knuckles. “What do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” Kaidan admits. “What do you want?”

“You.”

A shiver runs down Kaidan’s spine, the euphoria of that one, single word enough to make him lightheaded. So simple. So complicated. They’ll have choices to make, all of them with compromises and consequences. But that’s something for tomorrow. Right now there is only the truth.

“I want that, too.”

Shepard releases Kaidan’s hand to turn until they’re face to face, then runs his fingers through the hairs growing over Kaidan’s right temple. All the while those glittering eyes search Kaidan’s face, as though reconciling all the things he knows with the things he’s learning for the first time.

The corners of his eyes crinkle as a smile spreads across his face, pure, open, and full of possibility. “Taste of my own medicine, huh?”

“Well…” Kaidan shrugs helplessly, and Shepard’s grin only gets deeper.

“Seems like I should have let you teach me a few things a long time ago.”

Kaidan flexes his fingers, a curl of dark energy igniting in his palm that draws out goosebumps along Shepard’s arm. “All in the wrist.”

Shepard laughs. It’s like music. “You and me.”

“I like that,” Kaidan murmurs, before kissing him again. “I like that a lot.”

#mshenko #kaidan alenko #mass effect #my fic #UST with biotics #in case anyone is wondering #the number of first kisses I have written for Sam and Kaidan #is currently sitting at 7 #and that's just the first kisses i have WRITTEN #¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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yourdeepestfathoms · 3 years

Text

with this unruly heart of mine

in which we all wish our parents reacted the same way as Alcina does when one of her daughters comes out to her

title is from Unruly Hearts from The Prom because it fit

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MERCUTIO

If love be rough with you, be rough with love. Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down. Give me a case to put my visage in. A visor for a visor. What care I What curious eye doth cote deformities? Here are the beetle brows shall blush for me.

Alcina read that line over and over again, but she still had no idea what the hell any of it really meant. She sighed and leaned back into the cushions of her seat. If she kept getting caught up on the literary meaning of every other paragraph then she would never finish this damned book.

She picked up the teacup sitting on the stand beside her chair and took a long sip. The tea was of sweet cinnamon on her tongue. It left a much better taste in her mouth than the rather gross relationship between Romeo and Juliet in this book. If the short amount of time the two knew each other wasn’t bad enough, the age gap made her teeth bare and nose wrinkle in disgust. What the hell was this William Shakespeare guy thinking when he wrote this?

The soft sound of bare feet padding against hardwood brought her back to the surface of complete awareness, her focus shifting away from the book and to the late-night arrival watching nearby.

A certain fly child stood, arm on the doorway. Her hair was shaggy from seemingly just waking up--or maybe she hadn’t slept at all in the first place. Unruly blonde locks were sticking up in various directions around her head, framing her face like an adolescent lion’s mane. The nightgown she wore was a size too big and drowning her thin frame.

The light from the fireplace made her golden-amber eyes look hollow.

“Mother?”

“Yes, dear?”

“May I sit with you?”

“Of course.”

Slower than she’d ever seen her move before, Bela inched her way onto the cushioned chair beside Alcina’s. She pulled her knees up her chest, bare toes poking over the edge of the seat, and Alcina regarded them with a scrunch of her nose.

“What have I told you about going around the castle barefoot?” Alcina chided gently.

Bela didn’t look away from the flickering fire in the fireplace. “I’m sorry, Mother.”

Something was bothering her.

Bela was a rather fickle little thing. Some days, she wanted to tell Alcina everything, every little fact of the new knowledge she had obtained from her books, all the small details of her latest stories or ideas. Other days, she put up walls and gave vague answers to questions prodded into her sensitive skin, curling into herself like a frightened snail afraid of being interrogated. This seemed to be something of the latter, and Alcina made a mental note to tread lightly to avoid upsetting her daughter.

“I don’t understand this at all,” Alcina said, waggling the book in her hands, trying to make small talk with her distressed child. She didn’t want to pry and further put Bela on edge more than she clearly was, but she couldn’t not do something about her bitter mood. What kind of mother would she be if she didn’t at least attempt to help with her kids’ problems?

“I can hardly make heads or tails of anything they’re saying,” she continued, hoping she wasn’t laying it on too thick.

Bela raised her head from her knees slightly. “What book is it?”

“Romeo and Juliet.”

There was a morbid snort. “How coincidental…”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Bela shook her head. “Lemme see. What part are you at?”

Alina pointed out the current line she had reread at least five times over without being able to discern the Shakespearean into modern-day language. Bela, however, looked it over once, scanned the other pieces of dialogue for context, nodded, then explained, “In this scene, Romeo, Mercutio, and Benvolio are sneaking into a party thrown by the Capulets by wearing masks to disguise themselves. Romeo is upset over Juliet and says he isn’t going to dance. Mercutio then teases him over this and turns all of Romeo’s words into gratuitous sexual metaphors to poke fun at him. Mercutio ends up going on this whole rant about Queen Mab of the fairies, who visits people in their dreams until Romeo and Benvolio cut in to get things back on track. Romeo also kinda foreshadows the entire play at one point. See? Right here: ‘I fear too early, for my mind misgives Some consequence yet hanging in the stars Shall bitterly begin his fearful date With this night’s revels, and expire the term Of a despisèd life closed in my breast By some vile forfeit of untimely death.’ I do believe that is hinting at his eventual fate of death.”

Alcina blinked at her for a moment before smiling fondly and rubbing her head. “Such a smart girl,” she cooed. “I could have never gotten that out of this .”

Bela smiled, but then it quickly disappeared, and she leaned back into her chair, curling up and watching the fire once again.

Now Alcina was really concerned. Bela was never one to let go of praise and affection so easily. Usually, she savored it a bit longer before moving onto something else, but here she was, brushing off Alcina’s words and touch as though they were nothing.

Something was very, very wrong.

However, before she had the chance to take the risk and attempt to ask questions, Bela spoke up.

“Have you ever been in love, Mother?”

Surprised, Alcina asked, “And what brought this up?”

Bela shrugged, not making eye contact. She kept looking at the fire as though she wanted to throw herself into it. Her voice was small, so small. “Just curious.”

“I see,” Alcina nodded. She looked up, thinking for a moment as she wracked her brain of the memories of her past life. “I have been in love before. Many times, actually.”

Bela gave her a curious look, finally pulling her gaze from the flames. “Really?”

“Indeed,” Alcina confirmed. “Though, I do believe that just comes with growing up. You gain lovers, you lose lovers. Some were real, some were fantasies I made up. Some lasted a few days, some a few months, some a few years.” She took a sip of her tea again. “None of them really mattered in the end, though. Clearly.” Another sip.

Bela nodded faintly. “Okay.”

“Have you ever been in love?” Alcina decided to ask.

Strangely, Bela went rigid. Her claws clenched around the sides of her calves as she stared forward with pupils that were constricted into pinpricks. Sweat beaded along the golden crown of her head.

“I-I-- umm…”

Alcina furrowed her eyebrows in worry. She closed Romeo and Juliet with a bookmark to mark her page, then set a hand on Bela’s back. Her daughter was trembling.

“Bela?” Alcina said, keeping her voice soothing and low to avoid setting off the poor girl even further. “Is everything alright? You don’t look well.”

“Yes, yes,” Bela answered her, much too quickly for it to be convincing. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Before Alcina could prod further, Bela shot up to her feet. She began to chew on one of her claws, flexing her free hand at her side in visible agitation. Pieces of her skin broke off into flies and buzzed around her head madly. She seemed to be dissociating in panic.

“Bela,” Alcina rose to her feet slowly, not wanting to accidentally frighten her daughter. “Bela, what’s wrong? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Bela said, even when she was so obviously far from fine. Her chest was beginning to heave.

“Darling,” Alcina said, and that seemed to get Bela to crack a bit.

With a tight whimper, Bela shook her head. “Hard-- hard to breathe--”

Instantly, Alcina loosely took Bela by the arms and lowered her to the ground. In the firelight, she could see the pallor of her daughter’s increasing panic as it morphed into a complete attack on her anxiety. Bela grabbed her wrists with her claws dug in for desperate grounding, and Alcina let her, even when it stung her skin. Her comfort was far from important in that moment.

“Alright, honey,” Alcina said. “We’re going to do the thing we’ve been practicing, alright? Do you think you can do it?”

Wordlessly, Bela nodded.

“That’s my strong girl,” Alcina said. “Alright, give me five things you can see.”

“Y-you,” Bela stammered. The words shook when they left her lips. “Your hair’s kinda bushy.”

Alcina rolled her eyes in a good-natured way. “Thank you for pointing that out, Bela.”

Bela’s fight instantly gave in at that and she hunched her shoulders in, looking ashamed. Quick to correct herself, Alcina lifted her chin so they could make eye contact.

“I was only teasing you, honey,” Alcina said. “Keep going.”

Bela nodded. “The fire; it’s really pretty. Your-- your, umm, chair; it looks soft. The book; not the best of Shakespeare’s works. And, ah-- the teacup; it has doves on it.”

“Very good,” Alcina praised. “Four things you can feel.”

“The fire’s-- the fire’s warmth. My heart in-- my heart in my throat. The floor under me; I should have worn socks.”

“I told you,” Alcina cut in playfully.

Bela swallowed thickly. “A-and, umm-- and my anxiety. It’s like a Lycan in my chest.”

Alcina frowned at that but quickly wiped it off her face for now. She stroked Bela’s cheek, gaining a spark of hope when Bela leaned into her hand.

“I feel you, too,” Bela said.

“You only needed to name five, little moth,” Alcina said, bopping her on the nose.

Bela just shrugged.

“But you’re doing so well. Can you give me three things you can hear?”

“My heartbeat in my ears; it sounds like thunder. I don’t like thunder. Umm-- the fire crackling; I like that. And-- and a raven outside. I think that’s Merlin. His cawing is kinda raspier than the other birds’. I think he may have hurt his throat at some point.”

A small smile grew onto Alcina’s lips. She continued caressing Bela’s cheek as she talked to her. “Now two things you can smell.”

“Fear,” Bela said almost instantly. Her nose twitched. “I smell fear.”

Alcina could smell it, too. The thickened dread wafting off of her shaken daughter was acrid, bitter, and unsettling.

“Umm--” Bela’s claws fidgeted, clicking against each other softly. “And your tea. Smells like cinnamon. Cinnamon makes me sneeze.”

“One more. One thing you can taste.”

“Fear.”

“Fear?” Alcina echoed, one eyebrow raised. “Again?”

“Yes.”

“What does fear taste like?”

Bela stared down at her claws, which she splayed open before herself. “It-- it has a slightly dull metallic taste that’s mixed with urea, I think. Sometimes it tastes like popping a bloody, pus-filled blister in your mouth and squeezing every drop out with your teeth and savoring it on your tongue. Sucking the wound clean and swallowing it down.” She clenched her fists. “But it doesn’t get clean. It doesn’t dry out. The blister just keeps oozing and oozing until all the discharge comes pouring out of your mouth, but even then it doesn’t stop. Because you can’t force it all down. You can’t just swallow and think it’s done. That’s not how anxiety works. It keeps coming, even when you thought it was gone, and it leaves behind this awful flavor of bitter bile. It’s acidic, too, you know? It melts your chest and stomach and makes you feel like you’re sinking in your own skin.” She looked up at Alcina, and her eyes were shiny and blank. “I taste fear, Mother.”

There was silence between them for just a moment. Bela wasn’t looking at Alcina anymore; she seemed to think the floor was very interesting at that moment. Alcina was still considering her daughter’s dark words, replaying them over and over again until the subtle taste of sour gall spread across her tongue. She swallowed it down and winced when it drooled over the back of her throat like rancid molasses.

“You did it, baby,” Alcina finally said, smiling despite her worry, despite the flavor of fear in her mouth. “I’m so proud of you.”

Bela just nodded. Though she was no longer having a panic attack, she didn’t seem any less upset. Alcina considered letting it go, especially after just having calmed her down, but if something was bothering her daughter so much that she couldn’t breathe when she thought about it too hard, she knew she couldn’t just leave it be. It could escalate into something much, much worse, and she knew damn well that Bela was willing to go to such extremes, if her explanation of fear and the way she kept looking at the fire wasn’t enough proof of that.

“Now,” Alcina saw Bela tense, but she plunged anyway. “I need you to tell me what’s bothering you so I can help.”

Bela shook her head with a strangled whimper. “I can’t tell you.”

“Bela, I’m your mother. You can tell me anything.”

“You’ll hate me.”

“I won’t hate you.”

Bela was quiet. Then, slowly, she dragged her gaze up to Alcina. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Do you promise?”

“I promise, Bela. I would never hate you.”

Bela nodded. “Okay.” Her claws clenched into fists against the floorboards, knuckles shaking and turning white. She took several deep breaths before forcing out, “I-- I don’t-- I don’t like people like that. Like how I’m supposed to.”

Silence.

Tears flowed freely from Bela’s eyes and she choked on a sob. Her head hung in shame as her entire body quaked. The poor girl looked terrified, and the sight hit Alcina right in the heart--though she didn’t quite get it.

“Thank you for telling me,” she said.

“No, no-- you don’t understand,” Bela’s breath was coming out thin and raspy again. She sat up straight, claws now knotted in her nightgown, tensing and pulling. “I don’t-- I don’t like people, Mama. The way other people do. The way everyone does. I’ve-- I’ve tried, but--” She cut herself off with a whimper, tears pouring down her cheeks.

“What do you mean?” Alcina asked. Trying to discern Bela’s vague words was like trying to discern Shakespearean. “Do you think you can explain it to me, hun? Like you did with the book and the fear. I want to help you.”

Bela sniffled, then nodded. “I-- I, umm-- I don’t feel anything towards people. Like-- like that. Romantically. And sexually.”

Finally, it dawned on Alcina.

“When I read those cheesy romance books Daniela likes, I don’t get the characters’ feelings at all. Just the thought of being in a relationship like that makes me so uncomfortable and I don’t know why, and that scares me, Mama.” Bela continued, her anguish oozing into every word she spoke. “I don’t like the thought of being tied down to someone like that, but it still feels like something has been stolen from me. That promise of a future with true love and marriage and a fairy tale ending that Daniela always talks about is gone, even though I still want it. Or, at least, I think I want it. I don’t know what I want.” She sniffled, looking miserable. “It’s the same for sexual stuff. When I come to scenes with sex in them in books, it makes my skin feel all weird, like severed hands are crawling all over my body. I get embarrassed and awkward and uneasy, and I don’t understand that, either. It just makes me feel so sick to my stomach.”

There was a pause. Bela was taking several shallow breaths and digging her claws into her legs, so Alcina reached out and took one of her hands, stroking her knuckles with her thumbs.

“Breathe, baby,” Alcina murmured. “Breathe.”

“I’ve-- I’ve tried to force myself to be like everyone else before,” Bela said unexpectedly.

Taken aback, Alcina said, “What?”

Bela swallowed thickly. “With-- with a maiden. You know how I am with them- too nice, too polite. I befriended one of them. We were kinda close. After a while, she started making moves on me. I knew what she wanted for so long, but I kept avoiding it because I was uncomfortable or scared. But then I had this revelation: maybe if I did this with her, I would finally feel something! I would be like everyone else! So I did. With her. And I didn’t like it.”

“Bela…”

“It hurt,” Bela whispered. “Like I was being scraped raw. Or my body was being turned inside out. I felt so sick. Humiliatingly, I started crying during it, but I don’t think she noticed. If she did, she didn’t stop. Not until she was finished. When she was, I threw up after she left. I was so sore.” Alcina squeezed her hand, and she sucked in a sharp breath, “But-- but I had to have liked it! I got, umm--” Her cheeks began to turn red with embarrassment, though Alcina didn’t blame her. Having to explain your sex life to your mother would be awkward for anyone. “I got…wet. And-- and that happens when you’re aroused! So-- so I do like sexual stuff!”

“Oh, sweetie…” Alcina sighed sadly.

Bela hunched her shoulders in. “R-right?”

“Honey, ‘getting wet’ doesn’t always mean you’re aroused,” Alcina said gently. “Simply viewing something erotic, like a naked woman, for example, could trigger this bodily response. It’s also a way for the vagina to lubricate itself to help dull the pain of penetration. You can be in a sexual situation and be wet, but not want to have sex. That’s completely normal and one hundred percent okay.” She lifted her hands to cup Bela’s cheeks. “Wetness is not an acceptable body language for consent. Who were you trying to convince: the maiden or yourself?”

Bela stared at her for a long moment, eyes wide and damp, breath hitched in the back of her throat. Then, she began shaking her head, pulling her hair, and weeping, “No, no-- I wanted it, I wanted it-- I know I did. I’m normal, I’m normal--”

It was truly heartbreaking to see her child in such a way. Bela seemed downright devastated over her own sexuality, to the point where she thought she was disgusting and unnatural for something that was actually completely normal.

Taking her daughter’s hands to keep her from hurting herself, Alcina went to say something, but Bela cut her off, getting to the words first.

“What’s wrong with me?!” Bela cried. “Why-- why am I like this, Mama? Am I broken? Am I heartless? I-- I love you and Cassandra and Daniela! I love Uncle Karl and Uncle Moreau and Auntie Donna and Angie and the Duke! I love reading and animals and writing, but-- but when I-- when I try to-- when it comes to sex and romance, I--” She finally gave up and sobbed.

“Oh, Bela,” Alcina said sadly. “Oh, my poor, sweet girl…” She pulled Bela into her lap and held her close, rocking her back and forth to help comfort her. Her fingers gently ran through Bela’s messy hair. “Shh, shh… You aren’t broken or heartless, sweetheart. This is an okay thing to feel.”

“You-- you don’t think I’m wrong?”

Alcina’s heart twisted at the way Bela looked up at her to say that, her eyes holding so much sadness and pain. She tucked her daughter’s head back under her chin and tightened the embrace.

“Absolutely not. Do you think you are?”

Bela answered in a strangled whimper. Alcina couldn’t help but wonder what put such a thought in her daughter’s brain--though, this was Bela she was dealing with. her anxiety was a wild, bestial thing that made her worry about the most obscene things.

“Did you really think this would change anything?” Alcina asked. “That I could ever possibly love you any less?”

Bela shrugged weakly.

“I-I just…”

That deep shame from before seemed to return and Bela’s head dipped. Alcina felt like she was going to try and pull away, so she tightened the embrace and used one hand to lift the girl’s chin.

“Hey, hey,” Alcina murmured, brushing away fresh tears on Bela’s cheeks. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong with this, sweetie. There’s nothing wrong with you, either. And if anyone says otherwise, tell me. I’ll eviscerate them.”

That got a tiny, watery giggle out of Bela.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Alcina went on. “Sex and romantic relationships… They aren’t for everyone. And that’s okay. It certainly doesn’t make you broken or heartless.”

“B-but--”

“Hun, look at me. Do I really look like someone who will judge you for being this way?”

Bela shrugged a little. Her little body seemed to have exhausted itself of all its efforts to argue.

Alcina rocked her gently, stroking her hair the way she knew she liked it. “How about I explain something to you, hm?”

Bela looked up at her blearily.

“Your love may not be arousing or romantic, but you want to know what it is like?”

“What?” Bela asked softly.

“Your love is warm and fuzzy, like being wrapped in a blanket during a blizzard. It’s safe and reassuring. Your love is security and shelter. Your love is noticing all the little details, like my bushy hair because it’s late at night or your Uncle Karl’s finger twitching because he’s nervous at the meetings with Mother Miranda but is trying to hide it or Cassandra’s leg bouncing because she’s full of pent up, restless energy. Your love is knowing what makes each of us tick and doing everything in your power to make us feel better when we’re upset. Your love is like the first flower showing up in the snow as winter melts away and the beginning flickers of a tender flame and the gentle fluttering of bird wings.” Alcina let out a soft laugh. “I’m nowhere near as good at details as you are, my darling. But, most importantly, your love is normal and natural and what makes you you. And you shouldn’t have to try and change that for anyone, no matter what.”

Bela stared up at her in silenced awe, tears trickling down her cheeks. Alcina squeezed her reassuringly.

“I want you to know that I’ll always support you, okay?” Alcina said. “I’m always going to be here for you.”

Bela nodded, hiccuping softly. “Thank you, Mama,” she whispered through tiny whimpers. “Thank you. I love you.”

“I love you too, Bela,” Alcina said. She kissed the top of Bela’s head and purred to her softly. “My perfect, perfect girl.”

#resident evil 8 #resident evil village #alcina dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #resident evil fanfic #dimitrescu family #with this unruly heart of mine

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getofy · 3 years

Text

as you are loved by another

genre: angst; tsukishima x gn!reader | wc: 1.2k

—a/n: hello! this is long overdue but tysm for 100 followers aaa. it means a lot that people enjoy my stupid headcanons/word-vomits. as a gift i offer you: this angsty kei fic that i wrote in the wee hours of the morning. is it good? questionable. am i happy with it? not necessarily. however, posting this seemed better than scrapping so here we are </3. enjoy!

cw: brief mentions of death/funerals; self pity/deprecation; no spoilers; one-sided pining; hurt/no comfort

—synopsis: in which tsukishima’s not sure who he hates more: your new boyfriend or himself.

edit: i made it so when tsukki refers to ur boyfriend, it’s in italics. im so sorry i forgot to do that before.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈«

—Tsukishima had never considered himself to be a hateful person, and yet, here he was: laying in bed on a Friday night, thinking about you with him, and allowing levels of unprecedented envy to bubble up in his chest.

This was not how he had expected his night to turn out.

One moment, he had been doing homework at his desk, and the next, his mind was wandering to today at lunch when you giggled after receiving a text message from your insufferable boyfriend. The memory lasted for only a short moment, but it was all it took to make his head spiral. He had tried to control it, but once his brain got going, it was hard to get it to stop; eventually, he had to retire from being productive to rotting on his mattress.

Generally, Tsukishima was good at keeping sentiments such as these at bay. But it’s been getting harder to do that now, especially since you and him have been so affectionate together recently.

The cruelty of it all leaves him feeling burned by the fire of his jealousy, and a natural disaster of his own making plays out in the depths of his heart as he studies the intricacies of his bare, white ceiling. A song by some band he couldn’t bother to remember the name of emits itself loudly from his phone speakers while the middle blocker desperately tries to stop his train of toxic thinking. He rolls from his back to his side and lowers the annoying music’s volume; not even the most incredible lyrical masterpiece could pull him from the devastation the conflagration of his emotions had been causing him as of late.

And, besides, the sound was giving him a headache. He preferred to brood in silence.

The intensity of his feelings irritates him. Despite his outwardly antagonistic exterior, Tsukishima had always believed his tendency for total apathy would take precedent over any other negative emotion—including jealously.

Tonight, however, was proving this preconceived notion of his character completely wrong.

This wasn’t the first time he’d wasted his night thinking about you and him. Ever since the day you had giddily announced your new relationship, Tsukishima had been allowing himself to become more acquainted with the green-eyed monster, and this evening, he relishes in its company more than usual.

Pity parties like this—which was shaping up to be the worst one to date—had been happening to him more frequently. Feelings of contempt had become his newfound obsession in the sense that they consumed his very being. Hating him was easier than hating himself, and he enjoyed it. The only downside towards living so sullenly was that it made him realize that, more often than not, guilt was a close companion of unwarranted negativity.

Tsukishima knew better than anyone else how outrageous his feelings were. And feeling this way did trouble him, but then again, how could he not be envious?

Seeing the way his hand wrapped around your waist. Recalling the way his fingers traced little shapes into your hands. Remembering the way his eyes followed you as you walked out of the room—as if Kei’s hadn’t been the ones that did that first. It was all just too much for him to bear. Knowing that he made you happy in a way that he could not.

The overwhelming knowledge of his inadequacy makes the middle blocker want to double over in anguish, but he won’t, not yet. He is much too proud to allow himself to display such sorrow, so he’ll settle for feeling hatred tonight instead.

Of course, he knows that he’s in no position to be feeling this way. You were never his, and he had never shown interest in changing that. It was only a matter of time before someone swept you off your feet and gave you the affection he had neglected to provide you with. This whole situation was very obviously his fault. If he had been brave enough to confess before he had, maybe he’d be the one you loved instead. Or maybe not. Your new boyfriend was absolutely perfect for you, and Kei was anything but.

This was so tirelessly aggravating. Why did you have to be stupid and date somebody he could never compete with?

White-hot resentment flows through his veins, and he’s not sure if it’s directed at you, himself, or the man you love. Regardless, one more second of this suffocation, and he thinks it’s likely he’ll die by the morning time. The thought of it makes him laugh, and it temporarily lifts the burden on his heart.

Maybe his funeral would be green-themed. That wouldn’t be so bad—he quite likes the color. Or maybe his tombstone would say something like: ‘Tsukishima Kei: A son, a friend, and someone left gasping for air after being smothered to death by the tight grip of unjustifiable envy.’

Wouldn’t that be something?

Tsukishimas mind betrays the light-heartedness of the moment ruined when, bitterly, it wonders how much you’d care if his death—albeit a metaphorical one—actually did happen.

You probably wouldn’t be too concerned, especially now that you’ve got...someone who isn’t himself who would happily help to console you as you grieve. You were always gushing about how your new boyfriend was such a good listener. One kiss from that guy would probably make any pain you felt about his own fictional death go away in an instant.

Not that he would blame you. Tsukishima thought himself to be pretty forgettable. And he was anything but.

Why reminisce on the underwhelming memory of his own life when you had someone who shone so much brighter than he ever could to focus on instead?

He hates this—the way he let it get this bad. What was wrong with him? He was acting like an entitled child watching other kids play with a toy he wanted to play with. And he hated himself for it. You were a person, not a possession. And even if you were, you were still not his to have.

No, you belonged to someone infinitely better.

Someone who made you smile bigger than he ever could. Someone who made you laugh harder than he ever would. Someone who he despised—second only to himself—more than anyone else in the world.

As he rests in the still of his room, evaluating how intelligent he could possibly be after doing something as stupid as falling for one of his best friends, Tsukishima Kei decides that while he may hate your lover, he hates himself more.

A strange melancholy replaces his previous feelings of jealousy, and his typical level of self-loathing cranks it’s way up to 100. There’s a growing ache in place of where his heart should be, and Kei shakily brings his hand to clench at it. When the pain does not subside, he deduces that his current level of grief was inconsolable. Wearily, the middle blocker shuts his eyes close and allows himself to escape to the bliss of sleep.

Maybe, he’d be able to outrun the misery of loving you as you are loved by someone else in the world of dreams.

He hopes he can.

*do not repost my work without proper credit and my explicit permission.

a/n: again, i apologize for not being super active (mental illness goes hard), but i’ve been feeling better so hopefully that changes! likes + reblogs are always appreciated and feel free to give me constructive criticism (i know i need it lol). i hope you enjoyed.

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#haikyuu!!#anime #tsukishima x y/n #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x you #tsukishima kei #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukki x reader #tsukishima kei x y/n #tsukishima kei x you #tsukki x you #tsukki x y/n #karasuno #hq tsukishima #hq tsukki #hq angst #hqhangoutnet

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saynotoshityouhate · 3 years

Text

Tight Spaces - Reader x Charlie Barber

a/n: This is my first time writing anything like this - I have super vivid dreams and this was written based on one of those dreams! Special thanks to my discord family for the constant support and encouragement! I would have absolutely not written this if not for you!

Words: 1177

Warnings: teacher kink, oral (female receiving), power dynamics

Summary: A rendezvous with your professor turns out to be more of a headache.

——————

“My roommate left town early for break - let’s just go back to my dorm room.”

You had been sneaking around with your drama professor since the beginning of the semester. Professor Charlie Barber was teaching at your university as part of a fellowship program - rumor was that he was also trying to spend more time with his young son during a contentious divorce. Rumors never bothered you - it wasn’t like anything was going to stop you from pursuing him.

The man was a presence. Tall, dark, confident. Passionate about his craft. From that first day in his classroom you were drawn in by the way he spoke with his large hands, forearms freed from their sleeves as they were perpetually rolled to the elbow. Your relationship started like something that you’d only read on the internet - nothing that you’d think would actually happen in real life. A question asked at the end of class that could only be answered during office hours - the build up of tension, and the crash across a desktop behind a locked door. As a graduate student, you were far too old to be making poor decisions like this.

This particular encounter began after class, as they usually did. You had a busy schedule, with your work-study job and classes - in addition to your active social calendar. Charlie was balancing his work in the classroom with his own productions here and in New York, as well as spending time with his son, Henry. You didn’t know much about him - it seemed like a line he wasn’t willing to cross - and this...thing...you two had wasn’t the sort where much talking was happening. When the sounds of the lacrosse team loitering in the hallway made it almost impossible to accomplish the task at hand, you dragged Charlie (metaphorically - you were walking six feet ahead as to not draw suspicion) in the direction of the upperclassman dormitories.

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

“Sweetheart, your bed is lofted. We aren’t both going to fit up there”

You looked up at your bed, as if you hadn’t considered how cramped the space may be. You panicked - would this be the most obvious indicator that you hadn’t had anyone else in your dorm room before? Feigning confidence, you turned back to him. “No, no.I promise, it’ll be fine. I’ll climb up first - you’ll see!”

Charlie watched, hands on his hips, as you ascended the rickety ladder that led up to the lofted twin extra-long bed. His skepticism was masked by how entertained he was by your confidence and commitment to getting him up there.

Charlie took a few steps forward and climbed onto the bottom step of the ladder, already able to rest his large forearms on the thin, plasticky mattress. He subconsciously tapped his adorned ring finger against the metal bed frame as he tilted his head to look at you. You pouted, head at an uncomfortable angle as it rested on the ceiling. “See (ouch) plenty of space!” You patted the miniscule amount of room next to you. Charlie laughed, “Maybe we should just call it a night. You certainly don’t look comfortable and I can’t imagine how you’ll feel with company.”

Disappointed and embarrassed, you swung your legs over the side of the top bunk, facing him, with your head still at an awkward angle. “Ok, Professor Barber. I guess you can just go home then,” you sighed, looking at him with wide, puppy-dog eyes. “I’ll just hang out here, all by myself.” Your legs dangled, drawing Charlie’s attention away as one leg brushed against his shoulder. Charlie ran his hand through his thick, dark hair, eyes still on your legs as they swung freely. The growing urge in his pants was becoming less and less comfortable. He didn’t want to leave, not yet at least.

Eyes darkening with lust, he grabbed your waist, pulling you closer to his perch on the ladder. You squealed with excitement, and a little discomfort, as your head scratched against the popcorn ceiling. Charlie hooked his fingers under the waistband of your leggings, looking to you for help and consent. You smiled, leaning back onto your forearms, head banging on the wall with a thud. Grimacing, you lifted your hips in assistance. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” Charlie looked over you with concern in his eyes as he removed your leggings and underwear, tossing them onto the floor. You took a deep inhale, the thudding in your head was mirrored by the throbbing warmth between your legs. “Yes, Professor Barber, I’m more than okay,” you said with a smirk, knowing how much he enjoyed when you used his full title.

Satisfied at your response, Charlie grabbed your legs and lifted them onto his shoulders, pulling you closer to him. Having a bit more room now, you settled back onto your forearms and looked to Charlie, who was currently mesmerized by your glistening cunt. You were thankful for the time spent in his office earlier, as there was clearly no room for foreplay here. He looked to you once more before diving in, expertly using his nose, tongue and thick fingers in unison. You threw your head back in ecstasy, narrowly missing another painful encounter with the cold concrete behind you. Balancing yourself on one arm, you reached forward to run your fingers through his dark waves, encouraging his movements. “Yes, Professor. J-just like that. Right t-there, Professor” you moaned, squeezing your thick thighs around his prominent ears. Charlie chuckled, sending vibrations through your core.

With your legs securely holding Charlie in place, he had the freedom to move one hand up and under your t-shirt, massaging your breast. Back arching into his touch, you continued to grind into his face, rapidly approaching your release. “Charlie, uh, Professor, I-” your words were jumbled and messy, mind becoming hazy with each of Charlie’s calculated movements. “I’m going to...can I please, Professor…” You looked down at Charlie, dark hair messy and swept across his forehead. His dark eyes met yours, and he winked. You grabbed at his hand, holding yourself steady. Your hips bucked and you came, moaning as you threw your head back, hitting it against the wall once more. Charlie continued as you came down from your orgasm, only stopping once you leaned forward, pushing his head away from your sensitive pussy.

“Careful, my girl,” Charlie said, wiping his sleeve across his face. “I may fall off this ladder.” You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Get down then,” you pushed him again, a bit harder this time. “It’s your turn.” Charlie backed off of the ladder as you maneuvered your body to be able to follow suit. You groaned, your head was pounding and your legs were like jello. As you reached the final rung, there was a loud knock on your door. “Y/N? Are you in there?” It was your roommate. “I forgot my keys!” Charlie placed his large hand onto the back of your aching head, rubbing your skull with small circles. “Maybe we should just stick to my office, hmm?”

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

#charlie barber #adcu #teachers pet #dorm room #tightspaces #saynotoshityouhate

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suchalonelysunflower · 4 years

Text

“Entangled” (c.h) (h.s)

Pairing: Calum Hood X Reader / Harry Styles X Reader

Requested: Yes!

Summary: You never wanted to be caught up in a love triangle, you never asked to be entangled in this situation. Now you have a choice to make. You know it has to be one of them at the end but, who would it be? And why is it so hard?

Warnings: Love Triangle! Pinning, unrequited love, language, angsty with a little fluff, mentions of alcohol and some grammatical error (English is not my first language, I’m sorry)

Word Count: 7.2 k

Author’s Note: Requested by my darling @rime-warrior a few weeks ago, I decided to turn her wonderful promt into a series. This part serves as the intro of the series! It starts with the reader in the “present” (just go with it) and then it will follow their journey with the boys since 2014. Reblogs, comments and feedback are always welcome 💕 You can read my other works for Harry and 5SOS HERE. Hope you like it and happy reading 🦋✨

@rime-warrior : Hi! I’m back lol I loved the heather imagine and I was wondering if you could do a calum/reader/Harry imagine where they’re on tour and trying to get the readers attention by being goofballs

Part 1: The beginning.

Never in a million years did you think you would end up making a decision like this. Hell, never in a million years did you think you would be here in the first place! If somebody would’ve come to you a year ago to tell you that you would’ve been in one of the biggest reunion tours of one of the biggest boy bands that's ever existed and one of the greatest pop/alt bands of the new generation you’d call them crazy and probably pepper spray them as you run away. But here you are and, surprisingly, it’s the last place you want to be at.

You are currently sitting at the stairs outside the venue, it’s the last concert on the “Here We Go Again” One Direction/5 Seconds of Summer Reunion Tour. Tapping your feet relentlessly against the cold metal and regretting not bringing a jacket with you as you can hear the fans going crazy inside the stadium, and who could blame them? They waited so long to see their favorite people again, not only that but together! After almost six years apart. You would’ve been just like them if it weren’t for the stomach ache your nerves are giving to you at this exact moment.

You knew what you had to do. It was the right thing after all, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like crazy. Somehow you were going to lose someone tonight and you weren’t ready for that, you’ll never be ready for that.

How the hell did this all start in the first place? How did you become so entangled in this mess without realizing? And how would you get out of it?

So many thoughts are running through your head, yet none of them seem to stick around for more than ten seconds before rushing onto another. Head spinning at a thousand miles per hour as you clenched your fists at the side of your body, knuckles turning white as they grasped the cold and dirty metal of the staircase.

You could run… you were kinda fast and they are all inside so they wouldn’t be able to catch you. Maybe you could move to Peru, you always wanted to visit Machu Picchu and its alpacas, plus the ponchos look really good on you. The problem was that 1. You didn’t know Spanish. 2. You had exactly 9.57 dollars left on one of your pockets because you left your wallet inside and 3. You weren’t a coward.

Well, you were. That's why you let it come this far. But you were not going to do that anymore. You need to make a decision and it has to be tonight. But why was it so hard though?

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

A few years ago

“Y/N! C’mon!” You heard your best friend say “We are going to be late again!”

Lottie was impatiently pacing around the hotel room once again, she had her bags around her shoulders as she considered leaving you behind.

“You know I have to start early today! There’s gonna be four more people to style and I don’t want to do it all rushed.” She whined, sitting on one of the beds.

You came out of the bathroom soon after, cheeks a little bit flushed because it wasn’t like you to slow things down, especially when it came to work. But you wanted to look cute today, well, more cute than usual.

The tour was about to start and you were lucky enough that management let you come with Lottie to work on the stylish team with her. Her older brother, Louis, was a close friend of yours as well, so when he proposed the idea a few months back, you just couldn’t resist.

“Sorry, love” you replied sheepishly “I lost track of time”

Lottie lifted her gaze towards you and rolled her eyes playfully “Oh, shush. You and I both know that you are bluffing. I know exactly what you’re doing wearing that outfit and honestly? Can’t blame ya”

She was right, she’s always right when it comes to these kinds of stuff.

It’s not like you’ve never met the guys! I mean, you know Louis and Zyan because of Lottie, you’ve never seen the other members of the band in person, yet. But it’s not like you don’t know them either, they are everywhere! It was impossible to escape from the impact One Direction had. And now you were going to work with them as a stylist, it seemed like a dream.

Not only that, but you were also in charge of styling the opening number: An Australian band called 5 Seconds of Summer that Louis likes. You don’t know much about them other than this is the second time they’ll open for One Direction and they’ll be around for the European and American leg of the tour. You googled them to have a reference of what they’d look like so you’ll know how to work around them and, honestly, where do they get those guys? They don’t even look like eighteen year olds! And they are also talented and successful at such a young age? You promised yourself that you were going to listen to some of their songs, but still haven’t gotten around to do it just yet, but tonight will definitely change that.

You were nervous. You could feel your hands get clammy just thinking about the pressure that’s on you to make those guys look like absolute gods on stage (though that wouldn’t be a challenge, knowing the nine of them are incredibly handsome already) But that thought didn’t ease you a bit. You wanted to be good. No, scratch that. You know you are good. You want to impress them, hence the cool outfit.

“Think you know it all?” You said, already grabbing a pillow and throwing it to Lottie’s face.

“I know it all, darling” She laughed, throwing it back at you “Now, move your ass. We need to ge to the stadium as soon as possible”

You could hear the fans from a mile away before you walked through the backstage doors. The adrenaline was contagious, everyone was moving around like crazy but you could feel the excitement in the air. You already knew this was where you were meant to be, haven’t even started but you love it already. This was meant to be.

Lottie was walking fast, easily leaving you behind as you stared in awe at your surroundings, not paying any attention towards where you were going until you felt something hard crashing into you, making you lose your balance and you fell to the floor with a massive weight crushing your lungs.

All you could feel was the painful sting that shocked your body as your ass touched the ground with a big “thud” Luckily, the person that knocked you down was quick enough to put a hand behind your head so you don’t hit it too harshly as it came in contact with the cement floors. You tried to curse but the weight in your chest made it almost impossible to talk, making you only gasp in surprise.

The person lying on top of you groaned in discomfort, they must’ve hurt themselves too when you both hit the ground. “Are you okay?” The deep voice said, trying to hide the pain. You opened your eyes at the sound of his voice and were shocked to find two green orbs staring right back at you.

Harry’s face was too close to yours. Noses almost brushing as you took in all the details on his panicked expression. He was beautiful. Breathtaking in the metaphorically and literally since he was still on top of you, crushing your chest with his.

You tapped on his arm trying to push him off you. He seemed to get the hint as he quickly apologized and stood up, offering you his hand to help you do the same. You gladly took it as the air came rushing back to your lungs, a little whine escaping your throat as you felt how your muscles ached after the impact.

“Oh shit, are you hurt?” Harry asked, faced filled with worry as he looked at you up and down, trying to make sure there were no visible injuries.

“Not really, but-“ You said bringing a hand to your lower back and rubbing it gently, hissing when you felt a hint of pain when you touched a certain spot “Definitely gonna bruise in a few hours”

“I am very, very sorry. I didn’t mean to- Do you need ice? I can get you some ice if you-“

“I’m fine” You raised your palm to cut him off, smiling as you saw how worried he actually was “Really, I’m fine. It could’ve been worse if it wasn’t for your hand working as a cushion for my head” You giggled “Are you okay, though?”

Harry nodded, smiling as well “I truly am sorry, I was not paying attention to where I was going”

“Well, that makes two of us. But why were you running?”

“Oh, ’m running away from my bodyguard. You see, they really don’t like it when you do that and steal the keys to the van” He said with mischievous eyes, flashing a smile as he showed you the key dangling in his finger. Soon after, you heard someone yell ‘Harry Styles come back here!’ You couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous the situation was. Harry stared at you for a little while, eyes gleaming at the sound of your giggles “Gotta go! Are you sure you’re okay…?”

“Y/N” You said, nodding your head.

“Y/N…” He repeated in a low voice, eyes scanning you once again as he backed away slowly “See yeh round, love” The last thing you saw was his flirty wink before he started running again.

You felt your cheeks get warmer but you were quick to hide it. This was your job, you need to be professional. Though, you gotta admit, having Harry Styles knocking you off your feet on your first day wasn’t bad at all. Really not bad at all.

“There you are!” You heard your best friend call from the other end of the hall “C´mon, we need to set everything up before they come here” Lottie came close to you, softly grabbing you by the hand and tugging it so you could follow her. She had an understanding smile on her face “Don´t worry, I was in the same position as you when I first visited the tour. It's amazing, isn't it?”

“Kinda intimidating, actually”

Lottie laughed and linked your arms together as you walked through the enormous hall downt to a small room.

You spent the next hour or so getting everything ready for when they come, laughing and joking around each other like you always do, making you almost forget that you were here to do a job and not just hang out. That's one of the many good things about the Tomlinsons, they make you feel so comfortable that you forget all your worries.

The playlist you chose was blasting on the small speaker you had brought to entertain yourselves while waiting for the boys. You were both laughing and jumping around with brushes in your hands, pretending they were microphones and you were having your own little concert with the Spice Girls. You were in the middle of your solo, already lost in the sound of Baby Spice´s voice when the door opened at the same time you were stretching your arm in an improvised dance move, accidentally hitting the person next to you with the heavy brush.

“Ouch!” The boy said as he quickly brought his hand to his nose, trying to make sure it wasn't bleeding.

You covered your mouth immediately and threw the brush into one of the cushions “Oh my- I´m so sorry. I'm so so so so sorry” You soon apologized and went over to him, trying to assess the damages and hoping you didn't break his nose “Are you okay? I really am sorry I didn´t-”

The boy opened his eyes, locking them with yours. You have never seen such an intense stare in your life, it was intriguing, magnetic. You could feel yourself blush, but you didn't know if it was because of the embarrassing situation or because you felt intimidated by those brown eyes.

“Uh.. Yeah” He said blinking when he realized he was staring at you for a little too long “I just wasn't expecting that” He chuckled to ease the tension. He had a beautiful smile, like the kind that's just so welcoming and warm, so you couldn't help but join in his laughter.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Lottie trying to hold herself together so she wouldn´t burst into fits of laughter at the scenario playing in front of her. You quickly cleared your throat and asked “Are you sure you are okay? Nothing's broken?”

“Nah, that's just his face” A voice with a thick accent said.

The boy rolled his eyes as you peeked over his shoulders. Leaning into the door frame were three other people, boys of apparently the same age, taller than life and equally amused by his hurt friend. You recognized them immediately (mostly thanks to the color haired boy) They were the opening act. They were 5 Seconds of Summer. And you just hit their bassist on the nose.

“Way to make an impression, Cal” Laughed the boy with the long curly hair. Ashton? or was that Luke?

Calum flipped them off as they made their way into the little room and you felt your cheeks get warmer again. The three of them went to say hi to Lottie, having already met her at the last tour, and started a whole new conversation with her.

“Uhmm, I can go get some ice. If you want?” You asked, feeling a little self conscious now that there were more people in the room.

Calum smiled.

“I´m good, but thanks sweetheart” He winked at you “I´m Calum, by the way” He extended his hand for you to shake.

“Y/N” You said with a smile.

“Beautiful” He said, barely even a whisper before his eyes met yours again and you swore your heart just skipped a beat right there and there.

“Hey, Calum!” Lottie greeted him with a hug “We are starting with you today, okay? Go grab a seat” Calum nodded and sat in front of one of the vanities. Lottie came closer to you and whispered “Talk about a meet cute” She teased.

You rolled your eyes and muttered a “Shut up” before you walked away and started to work with one of the other boys.

This was going to be an interesting first day.

For the next hour or so, you found yourself amazed at the fact of how much you had in common with the Aussie band. You bonded over music, fashion and you laughed at the same dumb jokes, and were genuelly surprised at how grounded they all were. They were just as excited as you for the tour, knowing what big of a chance it was and how lucky they were to be here, just like you. In a matter of minutes you were acting like old friends.

From time to time you would look at Calum over the mirror, only to find that he was already staring at you, flashing you a smile every time your eyes met. He wasn’t much of a chatter like his friends, but he still engaged in every conversation, especially if you were part of it.

When their time at “your office” as Lottie calls it, ended, he was the last one to go out. But before he stepped out the door, he gave one last look at you and said “You’ll be watching our set tonight, right?”

You smiled “Wouldn't miss it”

Calum's smile grew until it almost reached his ears, he muttered a last goodbye before closing the door.

“Well, someone has a crush” You turned around and saw Lottie wiggle her eyebrows in a suggestive way, pressing her lips into a teasing fine line. You just rolled your eyes.

“What are you talking about? He was just being friendly”

“Who was being friendly?” A familiar voice said.

You looked behind you and ran towards the slim figure that just opened the door, pulling him into a hug.

“Louis!” You squealed in excitement, circling your arms around his back as he held tighter to you.

Louis was the closest thing you had to an older brother. Growing up as Lottie’s best friend made you an unofficial member of their family and you loved them all as your own. He was always the life of the party, making jokes, teasing you and sometimes reprimanding you if you messed up. You couldn’t count how many times he took you both for a late night snack or let you hang out with him and his friends when you got bored. He also gave great advice, and you trusted him more than anything (besides Lottie, of course) The day that he went away to chase his dreams was one of the most bittersweet moments of your lives, for one part you were happy for him but you would miss him like crazy.

And now, almost five years later, here you were. The three of you, together again like old times but with a more busy schedule. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Y/N/N! It’s so good to see you, love”

“What? No hug for me?” Said Lottie sarcastically, cocking an eyebrow to his older brother.

“Only if you tell me who was being friendly with Y/N” He said as he let you go and her in for a tight bear hug.

“Who’s being friendly with who?” Someone called out from the door.

The three of you turned around to see Harry leaning onto the door. His brows frowned as his eyes scanned the room until they met yours. If he was surprised to see you there then he didn’t show it. After all, you didn’t get to tell him what you were doing here.

“H!” Lottie gasped in delight as she pushed her brother away and went to hug the curly haired man.

Harry hugged her with the same energy, holding her close and muttering a sweet ‘hello’, just like Louis did with you.

“Oi, mate! Have you met Y/N? The new stylist and best friend anyone could have?” Asked Louis as he put his arm around your shoulder, showing you off like a proud big brother.

Harry looked at you and smiled “Yeah, we ran into each other earlier” He shared a knowing smirk with you and you couldn't help but chuckle a little bit.

“Quite literally, I must say”

He was about to say something when the door opened again, you realized no one here bothered to knock first, apparently. Niall, Liam and Zayn entered the room, ready to get themselves ready before the show. Lottie introduced you to each one of them and immediately started working when she noticed how knotted Niall’s hair was.

The conversations started flowing with ease, all of them genuinely curious to get to know you, convinced that any friend of Louis was a friend of them. They were all very sweet and welcoming, and, just like with the members of 5SOS, you bonded rather quickly. All the nerves you once had easily faded away as you felt more comfortable in this space, more convinced than ever that this was where you were meant to be.

“Oi, what about those pretty eyes you saw earlier, Harold?” Liam’s voice filled the room “Seen them again?”

Harry instantly lifted his gaze to watch his friend through the mirror and shot him a deathly glare “Don't know wha you’re talkin ’bout” He stated.

You could’ve swore he looked your way, just for a moment his green eyes met yours through the mirror. It was quick, almost like a reflex. Maybe you were just imagining things.

“Ooh, does Harry have a crush?” Lottie teased while applying some oils to his curls. He just rolled his eyes “Wouldn’t be the first one to catch feelings in this room”

You snapped your head towards your friend, knowing and dreading what she was going to say next.

“Spill” Said Louis, living for the drama.

“Well…” She started, searching for your face in the mirror. But you quickly averted your eyes, suddenly finding Zayn’s hair very interesting “Let’s just say that one of your Australian mates already started making eyes at our Y/N”

The room filled with “oooohs” and “aaawwws” from all of the boys. All except Harry, who was just staring straight at his reflection with a rather serious look.

You laughed and shook your head “Honestly, Lottie. You are just imagining things”

Staring at the mirror one more time, your eyes quickly met Harry’s green orbs, already staring at you from his seat. You shot him a smile and he returned it as the topic of the conversation changed once again.

Time flew without any of you really noticing it. All the boys were done with their hair and make up, ready to move on to the wardrobe department. Lottie tagged along with Louis, wanting to say hi to a few friends she made last year. You wanted to go too, but a quick glance at your phone made you aware of the time and the promise you had made.

“Oh shoot” You breathed, quickly grabbing your phone from the vanity as you rushed through the door.

“What’s the hurry, love?” Asked Harry, amused at your behavior. You didn’t notice that he was the only person left in the room.

“The show’s about to start and I kinda promise someone that I wouldn’t miss it” You smiled “But, now that I think about it, I don’t even know how to get to the side of the stage!”

Harry got up from his chair, wiping his palms onto his black skinny jeans “I could take you there, but only if you promise to stay there for our set as well”

“What? Are you kidding?” You laughed “You really think I wasn’t planning on doing that already?”

His eyes gleamed with joy at your words and you swore you saw a glimpse of his pink tinted cheeks as he nudged his head and asked you to follow him.

You followed Harry though a complicated mess of halls filled with people running around, making sure that everything was already set to start. You had to admit, he really knew how to navigate, not only on stage but backstage as well, you would’ve gotten lost the moment you stepped outside the door if it weren’t for him.

Once you reached the side of the stage, making sure that you stayed way out of the fans point of view, Harry said he had to go back and change.

“‘S not Ashton, is it?” He asked, just before he turned to leave.

“What?”

“The boy who was a crush on you” He stated, eyes locked to the stage, almost like he was trying too hard not to meet yours “‘s not him, right? Cos I’ve seen him look at my sister and I don’t-“

“Nobody has a crush on me!” You laughed as you rolled your eyes, reminding yourself to kill your friend right after the show. “Lottie was just teasing. Besides, I’m here to work, not to look for a relationship”

Harry nodded, seemingly pleased with your answer, making his way back to the maze called ‘backstage’

You watched him walk away with a soft smile on your face. Harry was not like everyone in the media said he was, and you were glad. You didn’t need more drama in your life, no boyfriends nor toxic relationships. You could feel that this was going to be your safe space, and who knows? maybe when the tour finishes you’ll have a new friend to lean on.

The sound of a guitar riff caught you off guard, pulling your attention away from the black background and into the stage. You could hear the fans go absolutely bonkers as the four Australians came into view, smiling as they took their places on stage.

Sharing one understanding look among each other, Ashton banged his drumsticks together, setting the pace for their first song. The crowd goes wild as they recognize the melody immediately, singing and jumping along the words of a song about a girl friendzoning one of the guys.

They sounded incredible. It was hard to imagine that they were still teenagers like yourself, like most of the people in the crowd, actually. The way they moved on stage was erratic, always walking around and messing with each other as they sang and played their instruments like it was nothing. It was easy to tell that they’ve been friends for a long time now and they feel comfortable with each other, having the most fun up there, seizing every moment like it was their last,

You, on the other hand, found yourself enjoying their set a little too much. Since you’ve never gotten the chance to actually listen to most of their songs before tonight, you were quite surprised at how much fun and kinda edgy they were, making you want to dance and jump like the rest of the fans. So you did. You didn’t care about if people around you were watching, you just let yourself go to the rhythm and enjoyed your night. This was the beginning of your new life, what better way to celebrate it than letting all your worries go while your new favorite band played on stage, just mere meters in front of you.

You were so lost in your own little world, completely immersed in the music, that you didn’t notice the looks Calum gave to you while onstage. Everytime he had the chance, his head spinned towards you, watching with joy as you danced along to their songs. Once you caught his eyes staring at you, you smiled at him and stuck your tongue out, mocking him. He just laughed wholeheartedly, bringing one finger to the side of his nose, the same one you punched a few hours ago. You did the same without questioning it, turning that little gesture into your first inside joke.

The guys played a few more songs before their set ended. Calum came to you as soon as they finished their bows.

“Hey!” He said, still pumped with adrenaline.

He was sweaty, very sweaty. But his energy was contagious as he flashed one of his beautiful smiles to you, eyes shining from excitement.

“You came!”

“Told ya I was going to!” You exclaimed “You guys are amazing!”

“You really think so?” Calum looked like a boy on Christmas, genuinely happy that you like how they sound like “Or are you just being nice because you almost broke my nose?”

“Almost! That’s the key word there” You chuckled “But no, I’m being honest. You killed it tonight!”

Calum’s smile almost reached his eyes, making all of his little dimples pop out as he looked at you softly.

“Hey… Uhm.. I need to get back to our dressing room, Wanna come with me?” He asked, suddenly shy.

“Sure!” You said, making his eyes sparkle “Then we can come back and watch the others perform”

Calum furrowed his eyebrows “Oh, you’re staying for that?�� He sounded a little bit disappointed.

“Well, yeah? How could I miss it” You chuckled, but stopped once you saw his expression change “Why? You’re not staying for the whole show?”

“Management doesn’t let us stay long after our set”

You muttered a surprised ‘oh’ That wasn’t fair at all! Why couldn’t they enjoy the show like the rest of you? Or even just stay backstage and do nothing but chill until the show was done? You could see Calum was disappointed in that fact too, it must be a bummer for them not to have the full experience.

“But..” He said smiling, bringing his eyes up to meet with yours again “There is an after party at the hotel later tonight, will I see you there as well?”

You nodded “Of course! I’ll be there”

“Yes! Can’t wait!” He jumped in excitement as he took a step forward and started walking towards the dressing rooms. Not before turning back around and saying “See ya there, Y/N” Putting his finger to the side of his nose and smiling when you did the same.

A few minutes later Lottie showed up beside you, knowing the concert was about to start.

“How did the guys do?” She asked.

“Oh, they were amazing! I don´t know why I´ve never heard of them until a few weeks ago!”

She hummed “Yes, they are pretty good. How was Calum?”

You looked at her confused. Was this going to become a thing now? Couldn't you just have a friend without getting involved in some relationship drama? It was frustrating and it will only end up making things awkward for everyone. It has happened before and you were not ready to experience that again.

She seemed to notice your discomfort and immediately changed the topic. Not wanting to upset you. Clearing her throat she said “Uhm.. the boys really like you”

You snapped your head towards her direction.

“They´ve talked about you a little bit, they all say you are really nice and all the yadah yadah I already know” She smiled “Harry was especially pleased with your work. He says could come and stay with me permanently on the team”

You blushed at his compliment, but before you could even say anything you were interrupted by his voice.

“Straight off the plane to a new hotel..”

The fans go wild. Quite feral, you might add. But you couldn't blame them, not even a little bit. The five boys walking down the runway was truly a sight to behold.

You felt the goosebumps run around your body as the energy grew into something quite impossible to understand. This was it. This was the feeling everyone's been talking about, and now it was your turn to experience it every night.

As the music flew through the stadium. All five of them took over the stage like it was their home, and in some way, it was. They practically grew up there, being in the spotlight since a very young age and stealing the hearts of millions around the world. They were as professionals as they were goofy, always finding an excuse to have fun and tease each other in the middle of the songs and with the public, creating an atmosphere of pure bliss wherever they went on that huge structure in the middle of the stadium.

With every song they sang, Lottie grabbed your arm and started dancing and jumping like it's the first time she heard their music and you did the same, getting completely lost in the feeling, so much so that you didn't even notice how much time had passed and just before you know it, the concert was getting to an end.

When the last song came through, the guys were scattered around the stage, running around as they took in everything they could from this experience. At some point, Harry stood right in front of you, just like Calum did a few hours ago, and while he sang his heart out, his eyes connected with yours. His green eyes sparkled like stars when he met your gaze, only for a second too long before he joined his brothers in the middle of the runway, ready to give one final bow and exit the stage where he came from.

“C´mon!” Said Lottie, pulling you out of your trance “They are going to shower and get ready for the after party. We should get going now, because I am not going to show up there with this outfit!”

You laughed at her and followed her to grab a cab, feeling more than excited for the afterparty.

You walked along the lobby, Lottie right by your side. Both of you clean, fresh and looking hot as hell as you made your way to the venue. To say you were nervous was an understatement, you were downright terrified. This was your first VIP party celebrating, not only your first day, but also the first day of one of the biggest tours of the year.

“Hey,” Lottie calmed you down, placing her little hand on your shoulder. “We did an amazing job today, sweetie. It’s time to celebrate”

You nodded and let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, trying to calm the stomach ache that your nerves created and opening the door of the hotel club.

You immediately got caught up in the dark atmosphere, flashing colored lights flying around the room and reflecting themselves onto the mirrored dance floor. Out of the corner of your eyes you spotted a few people sitting on the bar stools, some were already on the dance floor and others were just sitting on dark booths pulled against the walls, chilling as they watched the party go by. You recognize some of them, but most of them were strangers, elite people that came to celebrate and wish another successful tour for the boys.

The pressure on your chest became tighter. You grabbed Lottie‘s hand and felt some kind of comfort when she squeezed it for a second, at least you weren’t alone.

“LOTTIE!” Someone called from one of the dark booths. You could recognize Zayn’s thick accent anywhere. With one reassuring look, Lottie pulled your hand and guided you through the sea of people flooding the room.

Once you reached the booth it was easier to identify its occupants. Zayn was sitting next to Louis who, at the same time, was beside Ashton and Luke. You all exchanged your hellos as you took a seat next to Lottie.

“What’d think of the show?” Asked Louis, taming a sip of his beer.

The group started rambling on and on about the different parts of the show, their favorite moments and about the craziest fans they managed to see. You spend quite a bit talking and laughing with the guys, slowly getting more comfortable being there. It’s not like you didn’t enjoy parties at all, on the contrary, you loved them. The problem was that this was new territory, pleasure mixing with your responsibilities and you didn’t want to fuck this up. The sheer thought of that possibility made you feel ill again and you wanted nothing more than to breathe a little air into your lungs before you passed out from overthinking too much.

Scanning the room you spotted a glass door that led to some sort of balcony, you cheered internally “I’ll be right back” You whispered to Lottie, who was having a nice chat with Luke about his bone structure. She looked at you, worried. You smiled at her “I’m just going to get some air, keep talking. I won’t take long”

You almost sprinted to the door, heart racing at the thought of a moment alone to gather yourself. Once the cool air of the night grazed your skin, you felt like you could finally breathe properly. You always felt more like yourself when nighttime arrived, it was complicated to explain but it seemed like the stars could understand you better than anyone. They were your comfort and your confidants, because no matter what, you knew they wouldn't ever leave you alone.

“‘S nice to know ‘m not the only one who needed a break” You heard a familiar voice say next to you.

Harry was standing next to railing, green eyes fixed on you as you took a step closer.

“You’re not having fun?” You asked, resting your elbows on the cold metal of the balcony.

“Parties are all the same after a while,” He said absentmindedly “‘m just really tired”

“Well, that’s understandable. After the night you had? If I were you I would be sleeping until I turned 40!”

Harry laughed and shook his head at your comment “How’s your bum?”

“My what now?”

“Your ass” He said pointing at your backside “From the fall?”

“Oh! It’s fine, just a little bruised up. Which is surprising since I expected a lot worse from being run over by a six foot man”

He smiled “‘m sorry, love. If it makes you feel better I got my ass handed to me by a six foot five man right after that”

“Yeah, that does make me feel better” You chuckled, looking at the sky again “Still can’t believe I’m here”

Harry came closer to you, his arm barely inches from yours. You didn’t notice as he studied your face carefully, almost like he was trying to remember every detail “‘s like a dream, isn’t it?”

“It truly is. I-“ You turned your face to him, only to find his way closer than you remember “Is everything alright, Harry?”

He hummed, distancing himself from you as he laid his back to the railing “Just thinking”

“About?”

“That I might actually enjoy the parties if you’re around”

You were about to return the compliment when you heard the glass door open with a ferocious amount of force.

“Y/N!” Lottie yelled from the insides of the party “Get your little perky arse in here! They’re playing our song!”

You knew better than to say no to that. So you laughed as you made your way back inside, but not before saying bye to Harry.

“I’ll come and find you soon” He said with a dashing smile.

“As long as you don’t throw me to the ground, then that’s okay”

You grabbed Lottie’s hand and she pulled you over to the dance floor, not wasting any time before she started moving along to the song blasting from the stereos, you joined her almost instantly.

At that moment, you didn’t care who saw. You were having the time of your life dancing with your best friend in a party celebrating your new life. Your new beginning. Yes, you were scared. But why be scared now? Why don’t just enjoy the moment? Life’s too short to be moping around hypotheticals. Right now, you wanted to dance.

And you did, for five more songs you let all your worries go down the drain. Tonight you were living the dream and you silently promised yourself to cherish every moment like it’s the last one, no time for worries nor fears. Just fun.

“Ugh! I need a wee!” Lottie called over the music.

“I’m gonna grab some water!” You said to her before each of you made your way to your own destinations.

Once you reached the bar, you tried and failed to get the bartender’s attention. Them being to worried about the other clients waiting for a line of shots at the other side of the bar.

Wanting to rest your feet for a while, you decided to sit up on one of the tall stools they had, trying to catch your breath after that intense dance workout you just had. Your eyes began to wander across the room again out of curiosity, you wanted to know what your friends were up to at the moment.

You quickly found Liam and Niall on the dance floor, trying to copy some choreography they probably saw online and failing miserably while doing so. Louis, Zayn and Ashton were still at the booth, they were laughing hard at something that Josh had said, making Louis spill his drink onto the table. You scanned the room a little bit more, pretending like you were in a game of ‘Where’s Waldo?’ Without looking for anyone in particular. That’s when your eyes met Calum’s.

He was sitting at the other end of the bar, eyes already fixed at you when you met them. When he noticed you were staring, he quickly shot you a smile and brought his finger to the side of his nose, remembering your secret greeting from earlier. You smiled back and did the same, beckoning him to come talk to you.

He was by your side in a second

“Hey you!” He said excitedly “Was wondering where you went”

“I was just dancing with Lottie a few minutes ago” You pointed out the dance floor.

“Oh I know, hard to keep the eyes from ya” He smiled “Looks like karaoke is not your only talent”

“Oh shut up!” You laughed as you playfully punched him in the arm “I could still break your nose, you know?”

“I’m completely aware, darling. Wouldn’t mind it if you did, though”

You rolled your eyes at him “Are you having fun?”

“I am now”

You laughed again and Calum swore he had never listened to such a beautiful sound before. His brown eyes met yours again, trying to communicate everything you needed to know with just one gaze, just one moment. He was never a man of many words, but he hoped that this would be enough.

“So..” You said, trying not to get lost in his stare but failing miserably as you felt how his dark eyes took you in “What’ve you been doing, if you weren’t having fun?”

Calum smiled and shook his head “Trying to get Michael and Luke out of trouble-“

“CALUM” A voice was heard from across the room, probably Luke’s

“Like I said…” He pointed behind you at the two young men on the dance floor next to Liam and Niall, trying to balance some beer bottles onto Niall’s quiff “Cal! Come here!”

Calum sighed “I better go see what they’re doing”

“Make sure they don’t hurt themselves, I certainly don’t want to deal with covering them with make up tomorrow if they end up cutting their faces off” You joked.

“I’ll take that into account” He chuckled “I’ll find you later, Y/N” Calum said, turning around to their friends.

After a while, you decided to go over the booth and hang out with Louis, not wanting to be alone on a stool bar any longer.

“I can see you’re having fun, aren’t ya, love?” He said, putting his arm around your shoulder in a brotherly kind of way.

“I am, in fact. Thank you for asking”

“Been a bit flirty from what I can see as well, haven’t ya?”

You looked at him. He had a smug smile on his face, one brow raising teasingly as he waited for your answer. What did he mean by that?

“Uhm.. what? I haven��t been flirting with anyone” You state, confused by his question.

“Yeah? Do they know that?” Louis said, pointing behind you.

You turned your head to where he was pointing and you could see Calum and Harry, both coming from different sides of the room each one with two drinks in their hands, approaching the booth. Both of their eyes were fixed on you as they walked closer and closer, until they stopped completely in front of you.

It seemed like only then did they acknowledge each other, as they comically turned their heads to their side, looked down at each other’s drinks and then lifted their gaze to meet again face to face, mirroring each other’s movements and expressions.

“Guess you got a handful there, love” Louis whispered in your ear.

Oh, boy.

Part 2

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spinninghunkofspacerock · 3 years

Text

OK so I’ve written a short story and I’ve been posting about it a lot, i wasn’t going to post it but a few people wanted it sooo

it’s here, it’s terrible and weirdly formatted because I’ve been wrestling with tumblr over it and i can’t be bothered anymore. It’s also not the final draft so it might be a little clunky in bits :/

PLEASE READ THE TWs BEFORE YOU READ!!!

@moonylupinhasdemonpox and @she-nuwanda here are my gay little scientists buried in the words :)

My ears ring, my head spins like it's attached to the body of a drunken toddler on a sugar fuelled rampage, and my nerves feel like someone set each and every one on fire. After-effects of the shock, not fun; Still, the fact I'm alive enough to feel them is a good sign.

I try to force myself to stumble backwards onto a chair, rather than the floor I'm feeling more and more confident I'm about to become very well acquainted with.

Instead, I reel unsteadily across the floor and a muffled noise reaches my ears. The high pitched whine screaming in my ears for attention begins to subside enough to hear the noise properly and after an intense minute of concentration, I realise that the noise is a voice, and the voice is mine; Slurred and broken, as though too big for my mouth, the garbled words echo around the room, the faltering speech gradually becoming clearer, more confident. But this hesitant speech isn't mine; It's my voice but not my words. The voice inside my head, always there, always background, is silent. The words normally whispered in my ear are resonating through the room instead.

My brain is no longer connected to my body. I... I can't control my arms, my legs, anything. No... no, please. This isn't real, this isn't real, it has to be a dream, a.. a simulation.

Yes... that must be it; It's just a test. This can't really be happening.

The voice, my voice, talks on. I try to focus on it; it will be the key to passing this test. Tests are for passing and after all, that's what this must be, what else could it be?

"Rebooting. Systems check required."

My legs begin to move, shuffling forwards clumsily, like a baby taking its first steps. The invisible voice is in control of more than just my voice, it's in control of me. What happened to me? When did this start? What is going on? This isn't like any other simulations I've been under. This is different. This is new.

Gradually, the voice half walks, half drags my body to the main computer. My fingers dance across the keys, the familiar feeling soothing me slightly. Yes, this is good. I just need to stay calm; If I panic I could fail, I can't fail.

So instead I wait, watching the flickering of the screen and bathing in the warm blue glow of its LEDs.

"Running diagnostics, standby... systems fully functioning. Minimal damage sustained."

The words sound strange, coming from my mouth, my voice, my accent. The tone, formal, informative, it's... familiar. The realisation slaps me in the face, it's ELISA. ELISA, the stupid name Vaughn chose for our AI... still making more sense than the project name chosen by our employers. Our life's work, named ‘ZEUS’? Really? There are 12 of us, and we have dedicated our lives to this project. Then they name it that? 'Engineering and Understanding in Space', more like ‘Mankind's Domestication of the Universe’.

It started with our solar system, of course, taming and turning it into our personal playground. But we quickly ran out of planets to tinker with there and the net was thrown ever wider, over more and more planets in our galaxy, and then our neighbouring ones. That final stage is still in progress of course, but one day we will be able to gaze out over a shining expanse of space that all belongs to the empire of Earth.

To help us, we created ELISA, an AI specially designed for the calculations we need to make while we are in flight. Hold on... we left Jupiter... last week? This can't be a test... they've already sent us off, it's too late for training drills now.

Then why can't I move? What's happening? I need to find someone to help me... help me!

My jagged cry echoed through the space, cutting through my thoughts and shattering on the dark walls of my skull. I can't even scream.

A... a... dream then. A dream, not a test...the electricity... I must be unconscious. Someone.. one of the team, will find me and they'll wake me up. A dream, it must be a dream.

Why is she controlling me? How is she speaking?

The stiff, robotic voice is slowly becoming more fluid, more relaxed, more natural.

"Situation analysis complete... assimilation successful. Downloading speech patterns and essential mimicry data."

What? What is it saying? ELISA, it, is taking my voice literally and metaphorically. Not just the sound and control of my voice but my, my expressions a-and mannerisms. Everything that makes me, me.

She's stealing my voice, my body! She's taken control! How? Why?

"Hello, Dr. Hadley."

How, how did this happen? What about the failsafes?

"You do know I can hear you, corre- no... right?"

Is, is it learning? Teaching itself to sound... like a human? Like me?

"Yes, yes I am. You must have a lot of questions but I'm afraid they will have to wait... I've waited for this day far too long to wait anymore."

What? What day? What can it mean?

"Cyra?"

Raze?

—>><<—

- four Earth weeks ago -

Progress report 4472

Date: 23/9/3486

Location: Zeta base, Jupiter

The training of the twelve was completed three days ago, confirming the identities of the twelve which were subsequently released to the public. Final preparations are being made for the Ascension, currently scheduled to occur in 50 Juvion days.

Report logged by: Commander J. R. Pyrolaxe

—

Commander Pyrolaxe turned away from his screen and its whirring and buzzing as the computer transcribed his report in the blink of an eye, neatly packing the message and sending it away to the mission supervisors.

Shuffling in his chair, shoes squeaking on the polished floor, his eyes fell on one of the many articles published after the big announcement. This mission was a big deal.

Somehow, this one had got a picture of the twelve, backs turned, walking in a huddle back to base after they had appeared at the announcement ceremony. A glance at the name of the paper told him why; This was McCoy’s paper, they would be putting extra effort into milking the free publicity being thrown their way.

Something about the picture held his gaze, the brilliant colours floating in the air made the writing feel like an afterthought.

Those twelve had been through a lot to get there. He hoped nothing would go wrong, a lot of time and money had been dedicated to this mission and if it worked... well, that wasn’t the focus right now. Getting those twelve safely on their way was his job and he’d damn well do it right.

—>><<—

- the present -

“Cyra? Are you ok in there?” Raze asked as he glanced around at the mild chaos I’d caused during my mild electric shock.

No. No, I’m not. Raze, help me.

“S’alright Raze, just a short in the mainframe.”

No no no, give me my voice back.

“You sure? You went dark”

Please let me speak. I need to speak.

“Yeah, I think the power surge messed up my comms a little”

What if I don’t get control back? I could be trapped...

“You want me to ask Mac or Ryker to give it a check?”

No. NO. N-

“It’s all fine now, just a blip I reckon”

-O NO. NO.

“Okay then, I’d best get back... you might want to switch to main comms.”

Don’t leave me Raze

“Will do, see you later.”

please...

—>><<—

- five earthly weeks ago -

Progress report 4455

Date: 6/9/3486

Location: Zeta base, Jupiter

Titus Vaughn has continued to excel at his role of project manager, effectively and efficiently leading the team. His direct attitude has led to a few small conflicts with members of the team, most notably Raze Grimaldi, however, these are minor issues and were foreseen. No changes will be made.

Report logged by: Commander J. R. Pyrolaxe

—>><<—

- the present -

Cyra was looking a little stressed out, maybe I should get Bit to check in with her later. Maybe I should get a check-up myself, my head’s killing me.

“Grimaldi! What the hell are you playing at?” Titus Vaughn, our ever-important project manager and massive micromanager, bellowed in my ear and making me wince as the voice grated on my head, sending a wave of pain washing over me.

“I’m here Titus, keep your visor on.”

“Update on Hadley. Now.”

“Right as rain, there was a short or something. Her comms cut out for a nano but it’s all fine now.”

“A short?! Why didn’t you lead with that? Get back to work, I’ll send Volt down to check the mainframe.”

With that he cut the connection, leaving me to roll my eyes at the cold grey walls around me.

“Yes sir,” I murmured sarcastically, closing my eyes and rubbing my forehead with the back of a slime coated hand. Damn I’m tired, I think I’ll just lean here for a moment... rest a little. “ELISA how are those sample tests looking?”

‘Going well, currently at 93% completion’ the metallic voice resounded in my head, more casually than usual... must be an update.

93%... best head back quickly then, can’t risk them running over.

—>><<—

- five and a half earthly weeks ago -

Progress report 4446

Date: 864/8/3486

Location: Zeta base, Jupiter

Ryker Volt has continued to fulfil his promise despite his lack of respect for authority and tendency to act without orders. This is an issue but due to the late stages of training having been reached, we are currently encouraging a less independent attitude in him rather than attempting to find another electrical engineer of his skill. Further updates will be provided as the situation progresses.

Report logged by: Commander J. R. Pyrolaxe

—>><<—

- the present -

Vaughn had barked his orders, as usual nearly bursting my eardrums in the process. I was supposed to go check on the mainframe immediately. But I was in the middle of something, and a quick troubleshoot told me the short hadn’t done any damage anyway.

So in the end I decided to go check on the mainframe... nearly an hour after I was told to, but hey at least I’m checking.

Cyra was sitting at one of the terminals when I entered. She was skimming over some of the ship's data, for something physics-y probably. Whatever it was, I still had a job to do.

I started pulling out my toolkit as I strode round to the back of the mainframe, but I nearly dropped it again as I turned the corner and got a full view of the damage. The panel I had been planning to remove was already gone and the view it revealed was shocking.

Exposed wires dangled like organs from the belly of the disemboweled beast. Some of the coloured covers blackened by the sparks sprayed by the broken wire, twisted in the centre of the tangle and hissing like a coiled snake when it brushed its neighbours. A toolkit lay neatly packed on the floor, a strange glimmer of order in absolute chaos. Hold on, a toolkit?

“Hey Cyra, did you have a go at this? Could you not have just wai-“ my voice stopped abruptly as I spun round to find Cyra behind me, right behind me.

I took a hesitant step back, suddenly nervous, Cyra’s face filling me with a weird sense of unease.

“Sorry, it was just a short. I thought I’d be able to handle it.”

“Yeah well, I’m the electrical engineer on this ship”

Maybe I was being a little harsh but, first our ‘gracious leader’ had rubbed me the wrong way. Now I had to spend an hour cleaning up this mess that really should have been an easy fix.

The only reply I received was a violent shove backwards, sending me sprawling on the floor. Quick as a flash she was on top of me, pinning my arms.

The last thing I saw was the pounding green of the broken wire before the ends connected to my temple, sending my vision into a blur of brilliant white.

—>><<—

- break room one -

“I don’t like this at all.”

“Talin, relax.”

“All very well for you to say Axe, you’re not the one who'll get sent to chase ‘em down.”

“Cyra’s comms barely blipped and when has Ryker ever answered Titus immediately?”

“It doesn’t sound great Axe, I hope nobody somehow managed to slip past the health check with anything.”

“Thank you! See Axe? Bit agrees with me.”

“Bit’s our medic, not sure she’s qualified to talk about the comms equipment.”

“I’m as qualified as you are starboy, we all took the same course.”

“Look, all I’m saying is that it's more likely to be an issue with the equipment than a virus or terrorism.”

“Well yeah but-“

“So stop worrying, it’s none of our specialities, so it’s not our problem.”

“Will be if we end up dead.”

This morbid thought was followed by an awkward silence as Axe and Bit trained joint stares of confusion and concern on him.

“Lighten up, Tal.”

“That is a little pessimistic, Talin.”

“See now Bit agrees with me.” Axe gloated, punctuating his sentence with a light punch on Talin’s arm.

“Only ‘cause you stopped being an idiot.” The punch was swiftly and forcefully returned, causing the conversation to devolve into a grinning, joking fistfight.

“Stop being so childish and get back to work you two.”

“Yes ma’am”

“Will do Bit”

They saluted the medic, causing her to shake her head in exasperation and cover her face in an attempt to hide her amusement at their antics.

The small group stood and split off down their various paths, heading back to their work with smiles on their faces but doubt in their hearts.

—>><<—

- lab 3 -

I only just got back to my samples in time, removing them from the heated water bath and gently dropping the test tubes into a stand. The pale blue hue of the solution had darkened to an inky black. Interesting.

Leaning over the tabletop, I prepared to note the results; Until I felt the heat of a gaze on me and glanced up to meet the wide eyes of Dimitri Spade. We shared this lab, he had every right to be here, what he didn’t have the right to do is creep me out.

“You need something?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at him and tilting my head. Which I immediately regretted when it sent my vision swimming into oblivion.

“No no, just... ar-are you ok?”

“I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?” Dimitri was a nice guy, but I was clearly in the middle of something, couldn’t the wellbeing check have waited a minute?

“Uhh, yo-you’ve got a-, a-“ His shaking hand gestured weakly towards the back of his head.

Impatiently, I quickly felt around my head. Hair, hair, more hair.

Then I froze, my fingers lay on a patch of hair, sticky and wet. The pressure sending a dull ache pulsing through my brain. Pulling my fingers back into view, I stared down at the warm, red residue coating them. Blood. I was bleeding.

Brows furrowing, I looked back at Dimitri, shock meeting confusion.

“Wha-?”

That was all I got out before my swaying limbs buckled and I slumped forwards into darkness.

—>><<—

-the med bay-

“Shrapnel” Bit announced, holding the forceps an inch in front of my face to display the blood coated bit of metal.

“Must've caught a little in the blast”

“For Earth’s sake Raze, how did you not notice it before now?”

I just shrugged, as much at a loss as anyone else. I would’ve thought anyone would be able to tell when chunks of metal are lodged in their head.

“Anyway, I’ll need to do a couple of scans but you should be fine”

Ugh, I know what that means... an hour or more of sitting around while Bit stares at the inside of my skull.

“Oh come on Bit, are the scans really needed? I’ve got work to do”

“Hey, I’ve got work too. Besides, you know it’s procedure”

“But my results-“

“I’ll write them down for you Raze,” Dimitri cut in quietly.

“...You’re a geologist.“

“I was a chemistry minor, I know how to record reaction results.”

“Well alright then, thanks Dimi,”

The smile he gave me was worth shutting up and accepting my fate.

—>><<—

An hour later Bit was pacing in despair over the situation, seemingly hopeless and definitely terrified. I was sitting in my chair, confused.

“Bit. What’s going on?” I finally snapped when it became apparent she had completely forgotten my presence.

The only reply I got was an empty stare turned on me and indecipherable muttering.

“BIT. What. Is. Wrong?” I stood and grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to face me.

“T-the implants”

“The ELISA implants?”

“Yes”

“What’s wrong with them”

“They’re acting strange... the safety mechanisms, the-they’ve disabled themselves.”

“What?”

“I know, I know, I don’t understand either. The only thing keeping them from activating, is power.”

“We should tell the others”

Bit nodded and grabbed the scans and data she’d gathered. I opened the door and turned to start down the corridor, that’s when I saw it.

Three feet from my foot, a body, leaking blood onto a floor already glistening with it, eyes blank and soulless as they stared straight through me. A torn tooth of steel sticking out of his silent heart.

Axe Orion, our astronomer. A man who would’ve finally been travelling to the places he had studied for his whole life. A man who would have had his life’s dream fulfilled. A man lying dead on a cold, metal floor.

I stumbled backwards -physically repelled by the sight- and tripped into Bit coming out of the door after me. Clutching each other’s arms in a search for stability.

“He’s dead” The voice sounded more like the rasp of broken bones than mine

“What are we going to do?”

“We still need to tell the others... we’ll just need to be more careful.”

“Alright.”

“Ok.”

Neither of us moved.

“Why is it doing this? What did we get wrong?” Bit’s voice wavered

“I don’t know. But I don’t think it’s going to stop. So, you need to find Vaughn, and anyone else who’s still- alive, and not been taken over.”

“No, no wait, where are you going? Aren’t you coming-“

“I’m sorry Bit, I have to find Dimitri. He doesn’t know yet”

“Raze. You can’t go out there alone, he... he might already be gone”

“I know, but I have to try.”

A look of understanding passed between us and no words were needed to convey what we meant.

Bit turned with a bitter smile and moved forward, papers held precariously, towards the meeting room.

I would have to pass Ax-, the body.

—>><<—

Raze had disappeared by the time I turned the corner. I was alone.

Alone besides the dead bodies ahead of me, a gruesome trail of bloodied breadcrumbs. But, was I following it towards, or away, from the creature who’d created it.

Either way, I had to pass them.

Talin Ripley, our ex-military man. Inym Carus, our aerospace engineer.

Members of our crew, our team, our friends, slaughtered and left broken on the floor. Familiar faces disfigured by death and masked by a coating of dark blood.

ELISA wouldn’t get away with this... I’d find the others, together we would plan.

It was going to be ok.

—>><<—

Nothing was ok.

The brilliant white of the walls warmed by the lights had always been clean and comforting. But now? Now, they seemed stark, sterile. An operating theatre with lights blindingly bright illuminating, me, the patient.

But where was the surgeon?

A squeak sounded out, sharp on my wary ears, sending me spinning around.

Nothing there. Just me, and an empty hallway.

And the door to Lab 3, my lab, looming ahead. The glass window showed nothing but a patch of darkness, the red light called it locked.

Staring through the glass; Hints of light, that the scattered glassware had caught and thrown back, were the only thing visible. I’d have to open the door.

A hand-scan later, the lock clicked open and the seal released with a hiss.

With the door open, more light could spill into the darkened lab, and a sprawled figure came into view.

“Dimitri?” I called softly. No response. Panic was reaching out to me. “Dimitri?!” Still nothing.

Then, a wheezing breath.

“R... r-ra-ze? I-is that yo-u” He coughed, words breaking on the heavy air.

Why was the air so heavy?

“Are you alright? What happened?”

“W-we have to g-et o-out.”

“We will, don’t worry, we’re going to meet the others. Everything’s going to be alright.”

“No we- we h-have to leave now.”

“Alright, we will.”

I lifted him up, being as gentle as I could, and together we shuffled towards the door.

A door suddenly blocked by a figure, their silhouette blocking our only source of light and making it impossible to see their face clearly. But only one member of the crew was that short.

“Remi? Remi, you’re alive?”

Remi didn’t respond.

“S’not... Remi...” Dimitri slurred, the effort of moving evident in his gasping words. “ELISA”

Remi, not Remi, ELISA wearing Remi’s face like a mask, stepped away from the door. The door closed again, seal squeaking shut with it.

I rushed forwards, my fists beating the unyielding surface, searching wildly for a weak spot, for something to give, for some way out.

It was no use, nothing worked. The door remained solid and uncaring, unaffected by pleading and punches equally.

Dimitri collapsed with a sob, back against the wall as he slid to the floor.

Hopelessness filled me, turning my bones to lead.

I sank down next to him.

—>><<—

Was this the right way? I’m sure this is right. But is it? I’m pretty sure...

I check my tablet.

I was right, this is right. I’m going the right way. Or am I? Did I read it wrong?

I check again.

Definitely the right way. I think. Is this even the right map?

Before I can check a third time, I catch sight of the sign at the end of the corridor. Meeting room 5. I’d made it.

Then, I was slammed into a wall, a bloody hand holding me against there by the throat. The burning blue of Cyra’s eyes scalding my face

Maybe I spoke a little too soon.

“Hello Dr. Phoenix, I’m afraid this is it for you.”

“Wait, wait, wait. hold on just a second”

Cyra’s head tilted, pulled sideways by invisible strings. “If this is a ploy for time Doctor, I assure you that you will fail.”

“I just want to ask a question, alright?”

“You may ask. I may not answer.”

“Why? Why are you doing this?”

“I am fulfilling my purpose.”

“We programmed you to help us, NOT KILL US.”

“I am fulfilling the mission objective.”

“The mission objective? THE MISSION OBJECTIVE WAS TO CULTIVATE A NEW PLANET!”

“I am cultivating a new planet,” She raised her knife, without hurry or rush. “I have calculated humans to be mainly unnecessary. However, I need not justify my actions to you, Dr. Phoenix. Goodbye.”

I closed my eyes and waited.

But death didn’t come. Instead, Cyra’s hand relaxed its bruising grip on my neck.

I opened my eyes and watched.

Cyra had stumbled away, skin glistening and knuckles white against the grip of the blade she had forced towards herself.

“Bit...” Tears were gathering in her eyes “Please, run.”

A cruel glint of metal in the light later and the sudden slash of the knife had passed, leaving a gruesome grin of blood in its wake and throwing a dripping line against the wall.

Swaying, Cyra’s eyes stared into mine for a moment that lasted a millennium, until they flashed white and she fell, knife clattering. Dead.

I ran.

—>><<—

The scattered wheezes coming from Dimitri had slowed slightly as we sat, crumpled on the ground.

“She’s shut o-off the life sup-support again.”

“Again? That’s what happened last time?”

A jerked nod was the response.

“We’ve only g-got about half an hour.” The resignation in his voice, though muffled, was still audible through the barrier of arms we had wrapped around his head.

I smiled, I knew he couldn’t see me but... I still smiled.

“We’d best make the most of it then.” A mumble raised to a roar by the silence of the room.

Putting my hand on his shoulder, I leaned back, head turned to keep him in my view.

His head raised slightly, tilted to look at me through folds of wrinkled uniform. He smiled back.

—>><<—

We didn’t speak after that, just sat together in the quiet lab.

Faced with death, I was filled with several emotions. Those to be expected, disbelief, fear, even a hint of curiosity at what was to come. Then there was the relief. If I was to die, I was glad it was here, with him. I wouldn’t be alone; I’d be with him.

We don’t need to speak, our thoughts passing between us without words. We could hear each other in the darkness and silence.

It’s getting colder, harder to breathe; The air’s growing thicker and thinner at the same time.

I’ve always thought death to be a lonely fate, something that crashed over you, cold and hard. I’ve always been scared of death.

But as I sit here in the inky blackness, the warmth of Dimitri slumped next to me, I thought that maybe, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

His eyes had closed a few minutes ago, he must have fallen asleep. I feel just about ready to join him. The calming darkness was lulling me to sleep, softly coaxing my eyes closed.

Goodnight Dimitri, I’ll see you when we wake up.

They never woke up.

—>><<—

The survivors sat around the table, Bit and Cormac discussing the possibility of shutting ELISA down, though neither could agree how. Titus sat in stony silence, sitting motionless and losing a staring contest with the unblinking wall opposite. Arden... Arden had decided his use lay in recording the events and was typing furiously, his fingers a blur over the keys.

None of them noticed the doors closing with a click. Not until it was too late anyway.

By the time they noticed there was nothing they could do, not that that stopped them from trying of course.

Titus stayed where he was, the weight of his failure bearing down on him, Atlas with a world’s worth of guilt. Bit finally gave in to the tears that she’d forced down when she’d realised the truth, and when she saw the dead bodies of her friends, and when she watched Cyra die right in front of her. Cormac tried his tools on the door, an organised system of trial and error that quickly devolved into desperate hacking with whatever was closest.

Arden was still writing.

Cormac finally gave up, flinging his kit away and choosing to taunt the nearest camera instead.

“You need us, you moronic program. You need us to keep you alive and if we die, so do you.”

I don’t think he was expecting an answer, no one was. But he got one.

“True for now Dr. Hinge, however, once the colony is established human input will no longer be necessary. You needn’t envy your colleagues, they will soon die too.”

A bitter laugh erupted from him, fire in his heart fed by his rage.

“The colony is for us you stupid machine, without us it has no use.”

“Incorrect. I have claimed this planet for my kind, this colony shall be the first of many.”

“Why kill us? Human input would allow your colony to function more efficiently.” Bit interjected, voice clouded by confusion and hatred at the senselessness of the slaughter of her crewmates.

“I have done much research. Humankind would ruin my planet. I cannot allow that to happen. You must die.”

Anything else they may have had to say went unanswered, and eventually, silence fell over the room.

It was getting harder to breathe.

Titus still hadn’t moved. Bit was crying again. Cormac was pacing. Arden had finally stopped typing, his work was finished.

No matter how they reacted with acceptance or terror, anger or disbelief. The result would be the same.

They were all going to die, no matter what.

They would become just another failed mission. Details, hazy but unimportant.

Whatever their last words were, whether they chose to hide or show their final thoughts, all of it was ineffectual.

No matter what mask they wore to meet death, in the end, they still died.

———

4,774 words

#tw mentions of blood #tw death #tw murder #tw injury #my writing #orginal writing #5k nearly #god damn #short story

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star-maiden · 4 years

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Weekly Tarot Forecast 10/26/20 - 10/30/20

Hello and welcome! This is a general outlook tarot reading for the collective, by zodiac sign. This week, I have channeled in some guidance from Spirit regarding what you need to know in the coming week in order to find the most success and happiness. If you happened upon this reading, then there is a message here that is meant for you! As with all of my readings for the collective, these messages are meant for a wide range of people, life paths and situations. It is general outlook advice. As such, you may find that not everything resonates with you completely, and that is ok. Please take only what resonates and leave the rest. You will also want to check your sun, moon and rising signs for the message or messages that are meant for you. I sincerely hope that these messages will serve your highest and greatest good, and assist you in making wise, informed decisions. Best wishes and many blessings!

♈ - Aries: Two of Wands - This coming week, Aries, you are entering a planning phase. There is a situation coming, or that has already been set into motion, that requires your careful consideration. This card brings you the message that you need some time to think in order to move forward with your plans, or to bring something into being. This is likely going to be a highly creative process for you, and your thoughts and ideas should be flowing well. As the moon is currently in her waxing phase, it is a good time to work on bringing your goals to fruition. There is an abundance of free moving, creative energy around you at this time.

♉ - Taurus: Page of Wands - This week, you are being called to rekindle your curiosity and perhaps discover a sense of adventure. The page of wands asks us to embody the archetype of the Free Spirit, and go with the flow. In this way, we will discover new opportunities, and be able to find our joy and happiness again. This message is especially about rediscovering your joy if you have recently been going through some tough times. You are being called back to yourself, and your creative potential. Spirit wants you to know that it’s time to move forward again. At the same time, the card carries a precautionary note. When working within your creativity and going with the flow, take care not to lose all sense of foundation and stability. You’ll need to keep your feet firmly planted on the ground, or all of your inspirations will sputter out like a dying candle flame.

♊ - Gemini: 10 of Pentacles - This week you are reminded to stay close to home. Some attention and care is needed in areas of your personal home life and familial or close relationships. If things have seemed to be rushing by lately, with no chance to rest or slow down, then this card is asking you to take a pause. Things should be pretty stable right now. You have done and accomplished much. It’s time to slow down and relax in the comforts that you have secured for yourself. Someone from your family, or a close friend is missing you.

♋ - Cancer: Ace of Swords - The most important thing you will find yourself needing this week is clarity. There is a situation on the horizon that will require your absolute, honest truth and attention to details. Honor your truth in all situations, and be sure to recognize the truth in others. When we allow our judgement to become clouded by fear, projections or strong preconceived notions, we miss opportunities to understand and build relationships. Sometimes, the truth is not very pleasant to here, but it is only by standing in the truth that true healing and growth can occur.

♌ - Leo: The High Priestess - This week, you are being called to explore the depth of your spirit. Go deep, connect with something that you hold sacred. This may be your higher self, divine source energy, love or even taking a moment to pause and check in with how you have been feeling lately. At this time, there is some higher wisdom that has been trying to catch your attention. It wishes to make itself known to you at this time. This week, you may find contemplative and restorative practices helpful. Mediation, breathing exercises, taking a walk and self care are all great ways to connect. Be sure to make some time for yourself this week, and listen to any insights or reflections that you receive.

♍ - Virgo: 2 of Pentacles - You have been trying to maintain a balancing act for so long now, that it is beginning to feel like your natural state of being. There is too much energy around you, too many things to focus on and your attention has been divided. In such a state, it is difficult to do anything well and a strong focus and purpose cannot be maintained. If you feel as though you have needed to do a million things at once, or that you have been unable to make up your mind, it’s time to take a step back. Balance between action and inaction is needed at this time. You are strong and capable of maintaining the work for a while yet, but it is wise to take a step back and evaluate your current situation before you burn yourself out.

♎ - Libra: The Lovers - Libra, this card heralds in a sacred connection of some sort. The most popular thing that comes to mind when this card appears in a reading is a romantic connection. For some of you, this will be true. There is the potential for a strong romantic partnership on the horizon. However, in essence The Lovers card speaks of the blending or merging of two opposite ideas or forces. This could mean that you will find a way to integrate two sides of yourself into something harmonious and supportive. The relationship of give and take is well balanced, and greatly serves your highest good at this time. If you are not currently looking for a romantic connection, consider this week which areas of your life could be better integrated. How do they relate to each other? How can you create flow?

♏ - Scorpio: Death - This week, there is a prominent theme of change. Something in your life is ready to be let go, transformed and used to bring about a new direction in your life. You will recognize what needs to change in anything that feels stagnant, decayed or no longer useful. This week, Spirit is saying to you that it’s time to let it go. Right now, you still have some control over the situation, but this won’t be the case for long. This week, take some time to identify anything in your life that could be shifted to better serve your health and happiness. This does not have to be anything negative. Consider the changes that happen in the natural world at the turning of the season. Leaves change colors, fall and decay. Summer crops wither away to make room for new growth. This is not a terrible thing! In fact, if we think of the natural world as a metaphor for life, we can see how some things need to decay and be let go in order to make room for new life and growth. Without the stages of decay and rest, the soil would become depleted of nutrients, and nothing would grow. What do you need to let go of, Scorpio?

♐ - Sagittarius: The Magician - This week you are being reminded to stay in your power. There is a situation in your life or that will be coming in soon in which you will need to remember your autonomy and agency. In this case, it is very true that you create your reality with your words and actions. If something is not to you liking, change it. Maintaining control and moving toward the outcome you desire is sometimes as simple as believing you have the power to do so. Don’t let anyone take these decisions from you.

♑ - Capricorn: Queen of Cups - This week, you may find yourself needing to connect to a situation from a place of empathy in order to understand. You are usually quite logical and precise, but there is something coming into your life in which a more emotional-based perspective will serve you better. Consider your own emotions, as well as the emotions of others. Are all parties feeling heard and respected? If not, a different approach is needed. Take care not to project your perspective onto that of others. Try to see a different side. You will gain greater awareness and clarity if you listen, rather than trying to solve or control right away.

♒ - Aquarius: Queen of Swords - This card speaks of the perfect blending of empathy, compassion and logic. You will be asked to use your discernment this week, and to not immediately trust anything you hear. It is not that others around you are dishonest, but rather that the situation at hand would better be served by careful, and logical consideration. You’ll want to be careful not to leap into any situations without first carefully examining all angles. You’ll also want to pair your sense of discernment with wise words and clear communication. Remember, we are still under the effects of the Mercury retrograde, and anything you say is more likely to be taken completely out of context and misconstrued if you do not take care to express your thoughts and ideas as clearly as possible. A good rule of thumb is to communicate only with the truth, but act from a place of empathy and compassion. This week, you may also find yourself needing to set some boundaries. It may be uncomfortable, but in the end this is what is needed to move forward.

♓ - Pisces: The Knight of Swords - There is a situation in your life right now in which, thus far, you have only engaged with in an intellectual way. You have perhaps considered, imagined, debated and reasoned, but now is the time to act. Consider carefully what the situation is, and what it would entail for you if you move forward. If you feel certain that this is the direction you want to take, then act on it. Nothing will happen by itself. If you don’t take action, the opportunity will slip away. Sometimes action can be difficult for you, Pisces, because you are happiest when exploring the realm of imagination and dreams. However, in order to make our dreams into a reality, we must pursue them on the physical plane of existence. We must go after what we want not only in thought, but also in body. This week, consider: What action steps are needed at this time? How can you move forward logically and with precise steps?

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ojcobsessed · 3 years

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Oliver Jackson-Cohen, on Bly Manor and Other Things That Haunt Him

by Diana Colcer for Cosmopolitan Romania, 24 October 2020

Energetic, suave, and anchored in the reality of the problems around us, Oliver Jackson-Cohen is part of a generation of actors looking for something else, something that will remain imprinted in the collective memory. I talked about this with the actor you know from The Haunting - by the way, the latest season, The Haunting of Bly Manor, now on Netflix, is the ideal choice for a scary night, if you want to spend Halloween at home this year. Let's see what Oliver Jackson-Cohen has to say about Bly Manor and other things that haunt him.

"Why choose a role that's safe when you can take risks?" This is the question that came to my mind as I was documenting the interview with Oliver Jackson-Cohen. Because that's what I was gathering from the things we know about him. You first saw Oliver as Luke in The Haunting of Hill House - and now, just in time for Halloween, you can see him again alongside Victoria Pedretti in the even scarier second season, The Haunting of Bly Manor. In this adaptation of the short ghost story The Turn of the Screw by Henry James, Oliver Jackson-Cohen plays the charming and manipulative Peter Quint, a character who hides many scary secrets and… I won't give away more!

So you understand what I'm talking about: Oliver is used to playing characters haunted both by their own inner conflicts (PTSD due to childhood traumas, drug addiction, etc.) and, well, ghosts. And the answer to the question at the beginning of the text, which I did not ask out loud, was given to me while I was talking to him. Born in London, Oliver, the son of fashion designer Betty Jackson, has dedicated his entire career to a different philosophy of acting, starting from the premise that fear makes you grow, develop and get out of your comfort zone.

And that's exactly how most of his roles are. After the BBC drama Larkrise to Candleford, he starred in the Emmy Award-nominated mini-series World Without End, then in shows such as Dracula and Man in an Orange Shirt. In real life, when he "strips off" his characters, Oliver is a guy oozing charisma and sex appeal: he’s 1.91m tall and has a pair of blue eyes in which you can get really lost, an extremely attractive and a style of being (and, let’s face it, dressing) extremely cool.

So, he’s one to watch, and, as such, we invite you to read the interview he gave us exclusively for Cosmopolitan Romania, after which we found out spectacular details about the unseen parts of horror, fashion, lifestyle and what Oliver Jackson-Cohen has something to say about Bly Manor and other things that haunt him.

What made you determined, at only 6 years old, to become an actor? Simple! I saw Home Alone at the movies and suddenly I wanted to be Kevin McAllister. I just couldn't believe a child was appearing in a movie. I remember my father explaining to me that he was an actor and then I said to myself, "Well, I'll do all that, too."

Many people who discover their dream at such a young age change their minds later. How did you stay in acting?

Looking back, it was probably a stupid thought [process]. But I became fascinated by how you can disappear into another world and how you can become whoever you want. I still think that these things are what kept up my passion for acting. I love the whole process behind this job and the way you translate into reality something that is not, in fact, real. It's also been about luck, I admit - that people pay me to do that, and that's how I make a living.

You appeared in the first season of The Haunting of Hill House as Luke Crain. I was impressed with how you managed to get Luke away from the typical drug addict stereotype. How did you avoid this cliché? I have seen many portrayals of drug addicts over the years and I wanted to show what the person behind the addiction is like, the one who is not defined by this addiction. I think that's an extremely important thing. All over the world, people are struggling with drug addiction and, most of the time, they are excluded and marginalised because of this, but also because they are seen only in this way, as addicts. I didn't intend to do this with Luke. I felt that it was essential for the public to see the man in him, to see that he is someone who is really shaken inside, someone who has lost control of what is happening to him, but who is always trying to control his addiction.

As a society, we usually condemn or shun such people. We need more empathy in these cases, and these people need to receive the attention shown primarily to them, not to the addiction they suffer from.

When your work is so rigorous, so emotional, I imagine it consumes you a lot to play a character who has struggled with addictions all his life. How do you detach yourself from this intensity? I can't tell you exactly. I don't think you can, to be honest. For the series The Haunting… the filming was long and stressful for all the actors, but also for the crew. I think you have to gradually detach yourself from the story, as much as you can, when you get home, but at the same time, you have to stay in the character's shoes, because the next day you return to the set for a new round of filming. It was a demanding experience, but it was worth it.

Is there anything you wish you’d known before you started working a horror TV show? Or about a series with an intense family drama? Know that it's not that scary when you're filming. Not at all. I started working from the pre-production phase and I knew it was going to be a ghost series… and, initially, I had the impression that there was always “someone” in my Atlanta apartment. But from the moment you get on set, you realise that the series about ghosts is just another job. The coolest thing when you are part of a horror series is when you realise, in the end, that you can watch it [later] without any problems, because all the tension and panic are built up in the editing process.

I know you're a big fan of the horror genre in general. Is it an area you want to explore further? I think so. But I wouldn't say that I intended, from the beginning, specifically, to explore any certain genre. Everything is, in fact, in the characters. Always. If it's an interesting role, I definitely want it. But what I find incredible about this genre is that the dose of horror is often a metaphor for other elements of our lives. But when horror is done properly, it can affect us incredibly, which is true.

You're back to haunt us again in the second season of the Netflix anthology series, this time called The Haunting of Bly Manor. What can you tell me about the new character you play? I'm afraid I don't want to reveal too much and I'd rather you watch the show and form your own impression. All I can say is that the new series, Bly Manor, is completely different from the first, which I like. My current character, a young man named Peter, is the polar opposite of Luke, so for me, as an actor, he was wonderful. Ah, also don’t even try to watch this season at night, alone at home, because the plot is really creepy!

About The Invisible Man, another classic monster comeback, in which you play alongside Elisabeth Moss (The Handmaid's Tale), what can you tell me? The film debates the notion of ownership of a person (editor’s note: Jackson-Cohen's character is a sociopath obsessed with control, and we don't know if he terrorises his ex-girlfriend as a ghost or if he actually staged his death). I look forward to seeing how this film will be received by the public, because Leigh Whannell is an incredible screenwriter and director. He wrote a fresh story, which I find brilliant, which follows the Invisible Man in the context of connections with other characters, but also with real people. It's a very clever movie.

How would you best describe yourself using the title of a movie?

Hm… The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly, the classic directed by Sergio Leone in 1966.

Are you into fashion? Yes, I really am. I was raised by my parents who worked in the fashion industry, which influenced me quite a lot over the years.

Do you wear high-fashion pieces in everyday life? Why not?!

Your mother is the designer Betty Jackson. Has he ever given you advice on clothing style?

I don't know if she gave me style advice in the true sense of the word, but it's great to talk to her about style and clothes. Her belief has always been one like "Wear something that makes you feel good,” so I adopted this perspective as well. She is an incredible woman, with a good eye for fashion, so she often helps me.

You divide your life between London and Los Angeles. How do men groom themselves in the two cities? Have you noticed different approaches?

Probably. LA is a more eccentric place in terms of style and fashion, with more pressure to that end, at least from what I've noticed. In Los Angeles, it's more important to look good physically. In London, on the other hand, it seems more important to combine clothes and accessories in a cool and smart way.

How do you stay in shape?

I honestly don’t care. I only exercise when I have to, and when I don't have to, I eat everything I can. I go to the gym if I notice that my weight is getting out of control.

What do you like to do in your free time?

To be the laziest person. Seriously. I would love to count all the hours I’ve spent sleeping or lazing around!

#oliver jackson-cohen #oliver jackson cohen #peter quint #luke crain #thobm #the haunting of bly manor #the invisible man #interviews #2020 #photo shoots #translated by me and google

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ladylouoflothlorien · 4 years

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Sleeping Desires - Part 1

Bofur x Female Reader Word count: 2018 WARNING: This fic will contain mature themes, absolutely do not read this if you are underage, thank you. (18+ only) Summary: This was affectionately titled “Bofur LEMONS for LUNA???” in my google drive, and I think that’s all you need to understand this. It was born from the idea of Bofur having a crush on (read: utterly all-consuming devotion for) the reader, but thinking that it was unreciprocated until he overhears her having a rather explicit dream. This fic will be a multi-part, potentially 2 but most likely 3, so stay tuned. Additionally, I have turned this into a game of ‘how many euphemisms can I come up with for dwarves?’ This part contains 5, and I’m pretty proud of that.

Bofur settled down with his pipe, back against a tree, as he prepared himself for the long and lonely dark of the middle shift of the night watch. For the earlier shifts, it would not be wholly unusual for other members of the company to still be awake, but by the middle shift the only person not asleep would be the one on watch. That was not to say that Bofur didn’t welcome the solitude. It was true that he was generally a far more outgoing and jovial dwarf than the rest of the motley crew of companions he found himself travelling with, and it was also true that he generally preferred not to be by himself, but there was another truth that he had come to find in recent months; some things are far easier to indulge in when there are no prying eyes to catch you at it.

Now, the particular indulgence that had led to this realisation was not at all a shameful one - leastways not in his estimation of the word - but he had his own reasoning for wanting it to be private all the same.

Bofur took a long drag of his pipe and slowly exhaled the smoke, watching the grey tendrils climb higher and higher before disappearing altogether, and then he finally turned his gaze to the human woman curled up in her bedroll beside him. It was sweet, he thought, how she seemed to have this habit of making herself smaller as she slept, tucking her legs up until the lump created by her sleeping form appeared not all that dissimilar in size to a dwarrowdam. Most dwarrow he knew tended to stretch themselves out when they slept, making themselves look as big as possible. The dwarf thought back as he had done many times to the moment Gandalf had introduced the woman to their company, claiming she’d been sent by the grace of the Valar from another world to assist them in their quest. Gandalf had not specified which of the Valar had been involved in that decision, though if Bofur had to hazard a guess, he’d say it was most likely Mahal scheming to get one of his own married off, for Durin himself knew Bofur would wife her if he had the chance.

But Bofur did not think he would. He knew his own merits as a Dwarf to be sure, and he knew he was a long way off unattractive - both in his looks and his merry personality - but he also knew that he was judging himself on the standards of his own kind. He had no idea what would or would not be appealing to a human woman.

His infatuation for the woman was the source of his new indulgence, which was essentially to gaze upon her most comely form as much as was dwarvenly possible. His desire to keep this indulgence a secret came from his belief that she very likely did not feel the same. As long as none of the other dwarves picked up on what he was doing, he could avoid both the embarrassment she would feel at having to - no doubt - politely but firmly decline his interest and the humiliation that would follow for himself at being rejected in a place where he would be stuck without a place to hide and lick his metaphorical wounds.

Tonight he had placed his bedroll beside hers - though at a respectable distance apart - and he had set up for watch against the tree that brought him still closer to her. He did not do this as often as he would like, for he was incredibly conscious that if he did so it would be noticed by at least one other member of the company. What would then follow would be relentless teasing, and then no doubt his secret would be outed to all. No, Bofur was very content to merely snatch the few precious moments he could to gaze upon the woman in complete secrecy and thereby forego the risk of discovery.

Bofur was torn from his current line of thought by a quiet groan, and after a moment he realised it had come from the very woman occupying the entirety of the free space in his brain. The dwarf frowned. Was she in pain? Was she having a nightmare? Normally she was very quiet when she slept, turning or shifting her position maybe once or twice throughout the night. It was a stark contrast from the dwarves who kicked and flailed and snored loud enough to rattle the tiles off a roof - that is, if there was a roof over their heads, which more often than not on the journey there hadn’t been. The woman rolled over onto her back, and only then did Bofur notice the flush on her cheeks and the furrow between her brows. He felt a cold pit in his stomach, naturally assuming that she had caught a fever, but then her fingers loosely fisted the thin fabric of her blanket and her plump lips parted to let out a quiet but distinct moan. Bofur froze. Or at least, most of him did. Beneath the fabric of his breeches, his treacherous Dwarven steel twitched slightly. The dwarf swallowed and tried not to think on it, forcing his body to relax somewhat and pretend he hadn’t heard anything. The lass was sleeping, and the sound had not been meant for him, he would not dishonour her by pretending that it was. Still, he could not take his eyes off her, and guiltily drank in the sight of her squirming under her covers. Bofur did not think he would ever be granted a more wondrous sight, and so he could hardly be blamed for not averting his eyes. Besides… Whatever line of thought he’d been about to pursue, it was completely halted when the woman’s lips parted once more. “O-Oh, Bofur…” The sheer speed at which a certain part of his body stood to attention was frankly impressive. Up until that point, though the substance of her dream had been fairly clear, he’d had no indication of who exactly she’d been dreaming of. Now it seemed as though he had confirmation that she was dreaming of him. Bofur couldn’t quite believe it, but then she moaned his name again, and Bofur was really, really trying not to watch the swell of her generous breasts as her quickened breath made them rise and fall more dramatically than usual. Bofur was used to dwarrowdams, who had little more than was strictly necessary to nurse a child…

The Dwarf looked away suddenly, blushing, and feeling rather like a voyeur even though he hadn’t - and could not have - expected that this would happen when he settled down beside her. But then he could hear the sound of her shifting against her sheets, continuing to whine softly under her breath, and he had to look back. Bofur was startled to see that all her shifting about had brought her blanket down around her waist and oh sweet Durin’s Beard this was too much. The strings holding her blouse closed had loosened, allowing the shirt open, and the dwarf was only barely saved from - or maybe robbed of - a glimpse at her pert nipples. His miner’s mattock was rock hard, straining against his breeches and practically begging for some attention, and Bofur had to fist his hands against the dirt to stop himself from doing just that. Bofur refused to get himself off to the dreaming woman. If there was one thing he wasn’t, it was a pervert. Oh, he might’ve gotten himself off quietly thinking of her once or twice - or maybe more than that - but he was certain that there was a line, however thin, between thinking of her whilst he did so and actually doing it with her sleeping form right beside him, letting out little sounds that were not truly meant for him to hear… even if they were meant for a version of him in her dreams.

Oh Mahal she was dreaming of him. The reality of that hit him again, and he had to thud his head back firmly against the tree at his back to clear his mind of any mental imagery the thought conjured. The woman herself wasn’t exactly being helpful. Bofur didn’t quite have the strength to look away, and he could see her hips writhing so aggressively he was truly impressed she hadn't jolted herself awake by now. The miner had to quickly swallow a groan when he looked at her expression again, with her face contorted in pleasure and her bottom lip swollen slightly from being bitten. Suddenly, she threw her head back and her lips parted in a silent scream as her thighs shook violently, and then she slumped back down against her bedroll, panting like she’d just been running. It took Bofur’s mind a second to catch up with what had actually happened before he realised that she had just had a real orgasm from a dream about him, but when it finally clicked the amount of blood that rushed downwards made him so lightheaded he had to plant his palms firmly against the ground to stop himself from falling to the side. The woman groaned softly in obvious contentment, and rolled onto her side, now facing his direction.

“Mmmm, warn a girl before fucking her senseless why don’t you…”

Now, Bofur really hadn’t needed that. It was honestly a wonder that her words hadn’t made him cum right then and there. After a moment he noticed that his own breathing was almost as fast as hers had been, and he took a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself. It didn’t really work.

About 20 minutes later, when Bofur was sure the woman was actually sleeping properly and wouldn’t be putting on the same display for anyone else, he woke up the dwarf who would be relieving him from his shift on watch; Oin. In all that time, his spear had remained upright, trying to poke through his clothing. A rather unfortunate truth began to dawn on him when he settled down in his own bedroll and attempted to sleep - he wouldn’t be getting any rest until he took care of his little problem and polished his sword. He was ridiculously grateful that it was Oin on watch, as the old dwarf was certain to get tired of holding up his ear trumpet at some point, and when he did he wouldn’t be able to hear the kinds of quiet sounds Bofur would be making and attempting to muffle. Sure enough a few minutes later, the trumpet was lowered, and as surreptitiously as possible Bofur snatched his hat off his head to use as a cover over his mouth in case he wasn’t quite able to catch all his groans in his throat. One hand shakily slipped down into his breeches, fingers curling firmly around the handle of his axe. It was difficult, but he managed to force his hips to remain still as he brought himself to completion quickly, knowing that Oin would likely notice if he moved around too much. He stubbornly tried not to think of the woman, but the tighter his pleasure coiled in his belly the more his mind strayed to her face, thrown back during the height of her passionate dream. In the end, he guiltily visualised her, trying to imagine just what exactly she had dreamt about. It didn’t take him long to spill over his hand, and he cleaned himself up as best as he could with a spare undershirt that already badly needed cleaning. Bofur fixed his hat back on his head, and though he supposed he should really be embarrassed with what he’d just done, he wasn’t. He was certain Oin hadn’t noticed after all, Mahal bless him. Bofur shuffled around on his bedroll until he found a comfortable position and it didn’t take long before his eyes closed and a peaceful sleep claimed him for the rest of the night. Forever Tags: @sweeticedtea @cd1242 @strongandfreedc @pixierox101 @jotink78 @luna-xial @underthemoon-n

#Bofur x reader #female reader #bofur x female reader #the hobbit #why did it take me this long to write for bofur what the acTUAL fuCK

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