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bungeenomin · 3 years

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BRAT

pairing: jaemin + jeno X y/n

genre: smut, brat tamer!jaemin brat tamer!jeno

summary: your roommate jaemin has put up with you being lazy, not pulling your weight and being bratty and unhelpful for long enough. he’s going to teach you a lesson, and not one you can get out of by acting cute like you usually do. who better to help him teach you a lesson than lee jeno, your neighbour that you’re constantly pining over, right in front of jaemin’s face?

warning: dirty talk, oral (m+f receiving), slight degradation, orgasms (m+f), light choking, unprotected sex

word count: 3k

A/N: feel free to send me requests, asks and leave me feed back!

main masterlist

“y/n” jaemin groans, dragging out your name as he enters the kitchen after returning from the gym. “you said you’d do the dishes and clear away the dinner shit while i was gone”

you roll your eyes as you lay on the couch, completely unbothered by your roommates annoyance. “yeah jaemin, i said i’ll do it didn’t i? i’ll do it later”

jaemin huffs in annoyance, walking into the living room, “no y/n, do it now. it’s not fair that i’m always the one having to clean up your shit, i clean up everything after myself, you need to do the same”

“jaemin you cooked dinner, you clean it” you whine.

“exactly! i cooked, so you clean up. you have to pull your weight y/n, come on” jaemin sighs

“jaem you made the mess, you clean it” you huff, walking past jaemin to leave him to the mess, but you’re stopped.

“no” jaemin sharply says, placing his hands on either side of your head when you attempt to escape from the kitchen mess. “you’re not going to keep doing fuck all and leaving it all to me, i’m sick of your shit y/n”

“nana” you pout, getting ready to sweet talk your way out of annoyed jaemin’s wrath, like you always do.

jaemin scoffs, “don’t nana me. not when you’re in trouble. you never listen y/n, and you need to learn how to, need to learn to listen to me”

“nana i know how to listen, i just choose not to when you’re nagging” you giggle, playing with the strings of his hoodie in front of you.

jaemin visibly gets angrier. if steam actually came out of people’s ears when they were mad, the room would be full of steam due to jaemin’s anger. jaemin chuckles coldly, placing his pointer finger on your chin and raising your head to meet his eyes, “i’m glad you find this funny sweetheart, it’ll be even more fun to wipe that smug smirk off your face”

“my precious little nana would never” you coo, “you’re my favourite softie, don’t tell mark though, he’ll get a complex”

jaemin’s eyes grow cold. extremely cold. jaemin releases your chin from his grip, removing his other hand from the wall beside you before turning around and storming out of your shared apartment, slamming the door behind him.

maybe you annoyed him too much this time? jaemin usually gets annoyed and agitated when you don’t listen to him, pleading, begging and bargaining with you to do your part to up keep the apartment. but jaemin never gets angry. not once has he ever stormed out of the apartment. not once has he ever slammed the door. oh well, that’s his problem.

it’s been about twenty minutes since jaemin stormed out, and you couldn’t care less. you’re simply laying on your bed, watching netflix. jaemin is being childish in your opinion. he’s probably over in donghyuck and mark’s apartment blowing their ear’s off about how annoying you were. knowing donghyuck, he’s probably agreeing with jaemin, hyping him up, living for the drama. knowing mark, he’s probably trying to be the moral compass, empathising with jaemin and thinking of a reasonable solution, a happy medium for both of you.

you don’t even hear the front door open again, too engrossed in the show you’re watching. what takes your attention from the show is the semi familiar voice you hear. “y/n?”

you almost fall out of bed with shock when you hear the voice, what’s he doing here? it then hits you that you’re laying down in just a sports bra and shorts, in front of him of all people. “oh, jeno! uh, what are you doing here? how did you even get in?” you question your neighbour, slightly over enthusiastically.

jeno chuckles lightly, coming to take a seat on your bed, right beside where you’re laying. “jaemin asked me to come over”

you scoff at that, “why? so you can babysit me while he’s over in mark and donghyuck’s ranting his ass off about me”

“how do you think i got in?” jeno asks, eyebrow quirked. “jaemin came over to mine, not your other friends. jaem left me in”

“o-oh. i didn’t know you and jaemin were close”

“we’re not that close. we talk every now and then. but today, jaemin had loads of interesting news for me” jeno smirks.

“what?” you giggle “that i’m annoying?”

jeno chuckles, “no. he told me that you think i’m hot”

“no i don’t!”

“he told me you talk about me a lot” jeno moves slightly closer.

“told me he’s caught you staring”, closer again.

“told me you’re a brat” jeno whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your body.

“as if” you reply, rolling your eyes.

“as if what?”

“as if any of that is true”

“if you don’t think i’m hot baby, why do you have goosebumps?” jeno questions, his hands gently running up and down your goosebump covered leg. “do i make you nervous baby?”

“no” you boldly reply.

jeno stares at your lips, moving closer towards them. you close your eyes, ready for his lips to reach yours. when they don’t, you open your eyes and pout. “what the fuck jeno”

“brats don’t get nice things” jeno laughs coldly, getting up off the bed.

“jeno don’t be suck a fucking dick” you spit.

jeno pauses in his steps, turning around with a cold expression on his face. eyebrow raised. “i’m sorry doll, do you want to say that again?”

“i- i said you’re a f-fucking dick” you reply, trying to keep your act up, but slightly intimidated by jeno’s cold demeanour.

before jeno can even respond, jaemin walks into the room, arms folded. “what’s your verdict jeno?”

“i think you’re right jaemin, she’s a little brat and her dirty little mouth needs to be shut” jeno replies, staring at you.

jaemin walks towards you, sitting beside you. jaemin’s hand gently grazes over your cheek before bringing his thumb to your bottom lip and dragging it down. “gonna put your dirty mouth to good use” he whispers, kissing the spot under your ear, sucking on it, insuring he leaves a mark. he isn’t going to leave an inch of your skin untouched tonight. jaemin continues kissing and sucking all over your neck, earning shaky breaths and soft whimpers from you.

jaemin removes his mouth from your neck, getting off the bed to pull off his shirt, sweats and boxers, his hard cock slapping against his stomach. “get up” jaemin coldly says, standing at the edge of the bed. you don’t move a muscle, staring back at jaemin with a innocent smile on your face. “now” he says through gritted teeth, not taking any more of your shit.

you roll your eyes, but comply, sitting up so your face is level with jaemin’s length. “roll your eyes again, i fucking dare you” jaemin spits, to which you don’t, you opt to remain silent. “open” jaemin says, tapping his cock against your lips.

you comply, opening your mouth to take jaemin’s cock, not expecting him to shove his length straight to the back of your throat, causing your eyes to water immediately. “not so brave now, huh?” jaemin teases, hips yet to move. you slowly start moving your head forward and back, your tongue tracing the vein that goes the whole way up jaemin’s length.

quiet groans and heavy breaths escape jaemin’s lips as your mouth moves along his cock. as you work on jaemin, jeno places himself behind you, moving your hair out of the way of your neck and continuing the vandalisation that jaemin had already begun, sucking dark marks on your skin, biting down every now and then, causing your already uneven breath to worsen.

jeno brings his hand around you to wrap around your neck, squeezing just enough to feel jaemin in the back of your throat every time you take his length in. “fuck y/n, look at you taking all of jaemin down your throat, little slut” jeno groans against your neck, causing you to moan around jaemin’s length.

“fuck” jaemin groans, taking his dick out of your mouth, “not cumming until you can’t move slut” jaemin pants, running a hand through his hair.

jeno takes advantage of your mouth now being free from jaemin, pulling you onto his lap. “look how hard you’ve made me” jeno whispers in your ear, knowing you can feel his rock hard erection against your back. “you’re gonna be a good girl and help me, aren’t you?” jeno questions, pinching your nipples and twisting, a loud moan escaping your lips. “words slut”

“yes”

“ass up face down, shorts and panties off” jeno demands, removing your tender nipples from his grasp.

“no” you boldly reply.

“i’m sorry princess” jeno scoffs with cold eyes, “do you want to say that again?” he questions, once again grabbing your neck, much harsher this time.

“sorry” you whisper with the little air you have, jeno releasing your neck at your apology.

“that’s what i thought”

when jeno told you to get in that position, you were ready for him to fuck you, but instead, jeno slides his head between your legs, laying on his back, mouth directly under your dripping folds. “she’s already so wet jaem, dripping for us” jeno chuckles, before running his tongue up the length of your folds, earning a loud moan from you.

“such a dirty girl” jaemin chuckles coldly, slapping your bare ass hard, sure to leave a mark, and sure to make you moan even louder. “you like getting spanked huh? like being taught a lesson?” jaemin teases, spanking the same ass cheek again.

“jaemin” you choke out. jaemin was right. you like him spanking you. you love the pain. love jaemin dominating you. love all the dirty words leaving his lips.

as jaemin spanks you again, jeno gets to work, flicking his tongue over and over your sensitive nub, making you a moaning mess. “fuck jeno” you whine, bringing your hips down slightly closer to his face, drunk on the feeling of jeno’s tongue against you.

“such a dirty girl. you love me and jeno pleasing you baby, don’t you?” jaemin whispers, spanking you harder, causing your ass to stick up more for him, which just makes jaemin groan and spank you again.

“y-yes jaemin” you moan out, “you both make me feel so so good”

your desperate words encourage jeno to drive you to your first orgasm, shoving two fingers inside you with no warning as his tongue continues to flick your clit rapidly. “fuck jeno” you scream as his long fingers pound in and out of you, “i’m g-gonna cum” you moan, gripping the sheets beneath you tightly and using all your will power to not cum without being told you can.

“cum for jeno” jaemin permits, with another hard slap to your ass that sends you over the edge. swear words, moans and incoherent sentences escape your lips as you reach your high, jeno’s fingers still inside you and mouth still attached to your clit.

jeno leaves his position between your legs and moves behind you, pulling you up by your hair so your back is against his toned chest. his hand finds it’s way to your neck again and squeezes softly, before tapping your lips with his other hand with his cum stained fingers, “open” jeno demands to which you very quickly comply to, taking his slender fingers into your mouth and sucking them clean, tasting your own juices. “mmh” jeno groans, “such a dirty girl for us”

“i haven’t even gotten started on her yet” jaemin teases, pulling you closer to him, sitting you on his lap before attaching his lips to yours. the kiss is slow, sensual, needy. his tongue moves in harmony with your own, the pleasure earning moans from you both to fill the room. jaemin bites down hard on your bottom lip and drags it between his teeth when pulling away from the kiss. “you gonna be a good girl and let me fuck you harder than you’ve ever been fucked baby doll?” jaemin questions, eyes dark as he traces patterns over your inner thigh.

“yes jaemin” you moan at how close his fingers are to your dripping heat.

“good girl. your attitude is so much better now, isn’t is princess? all you needed was me and jeno to fuck some sense into you” jaemin chuckles dryly. “you can’t forget about jen now baby, can you? keep sitting on my lap but face jeno instead of me angel. you can take him in the mouth while i fuck you” jaemin demands, and before you know it, you have jeno’s tip in your mouth as jaemin begins pushing his length inside you. “fuck angel you’re so tight” jaemin groans.

you moan around jeno’s tip at the pleasure jaemin is providing while pushing into you. “fuck jaemin hurry up” jeno groans, ready to fuck your face.

at jeno’s words, jaemin finally bottoms out inside of you, his length stretching you out more than you’ve ever been before. you start moving your hips, too eager to wait for jaemin to start fucking you. “my needy little slut” jaemin groans, allowing you to ride his cock as your mouth begins moving up and down jeno’s length.

“fuck” jeno moans, grabbing a fist of your hair and pushing your head to take more of him and faster, earning a string of moans to escape your lips around his cock, fuelling him to move your head faster and faster.

“you’re distracting her jen” jaemin complains, typical of jaemin. “gonna have me do all the work, huh baby?” jaemin teases, before grabbing your hips and snapping them down his length, fucking you faster than you thought was even possible. between that and jeno’s length hitting the back of your throat, your watery eyes roll to the back of your head, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“fuck jaemin she looks so pretty getting fucked by us. her little fucked out tear stained face, so pretty” jeno groans as you moan around him yet again.

“my pretty baby” jaemin groans, wrapping an arm around you and bringing his thumb to your clit, rubbing it at the same pace as his thrusts. “cum with me”

jeno pulls his length out of your mouth as you reach your second high with jaemin, wanting to hear your pretty moans fill the room which surely they do as jaemin slows down his thrusts before stopping completely. “good girl” jaemin pants, kissing your shoulder softy as an act of praise. jaemin pulls out of you slowly, a mixture of his cum and yours dripping from your hole.

“lay down” jeno orders, “i’m gonna fill you up more with my cum and fuck jaemin’s into you pretty girl. don’t worry, i’ll go easy” jeno winks before positioning himself at your entrance, your legs spread wide for him as you lay on your back, jaemin laying beside you. honestly, you can hardly keep your eyes open, but you know jeno will wake you right up.

“fuck” you scream as jeno shoves his length into you with no warning and begins to pound into you”

“shh baby it’s okay” jaemin comforts you from your side. “you took me so well, jeno’s already nearly done from you taking him so well in your mouth angel, you’re doing so good i’m so proud of you”

“f-fuck jeno” you groan, grabbing onto jaemin’s arm for support. you’re still so sensitive after jaemin making you cum that you’re almost relieved when you feel jeno twitch inside of you.

“fuck” jeno moans as he releases his load inside of you, coating your walls with his cum, as you cum once again with him.

once you both come down from your highs, jeno carefully pulls out of you and flops down beside you. “wow” jeno sighs, earning a giggle from both you and jaemin.

“yeah, wow” you giggle tiredly, completely drained from jaemin and jeno’s ministrations.

“i should probably get going” jeno announces after a couple of minutes, standing up to redress himself. “thanks for tonight, it was hot as fuck” he laughs, grabbing the back of his neck by habit. “i’ll see you soon” jeno smiles as he nears your bedroom door.

“see ya soon”

“bye jen”

and with that, jeno’s gone. “c’mere” jaemin mumbles tiredly, reaching his arms out. you cuddle into jaemin’s side, where you always find so much comfort, just not usually naked and after being fucked senseless. “did you have a good time?” jaemin asks, beginning to play with your hair.

“mhmm, the best! you?”

“you were amazing for me baby” jaemin smiles, kissing your forehead softly. “i’m very proud of you”

“yeah?” you question, a silly smile displayed across your face.

“mhmm” jaemin replies, before placing a soft kiss against your lips. “but i’ve also learned that i don’t want you to be kissing other boys, being fucked by other boys, just me” jaemin whispers, looking deeply into your eyes.

never in a million years did you think your roommate would be confessing to you, but the happy feeling in your heart ensures you that the feeling is mutual.

“what about jeno on special occasions?” you tease, giggles escaping your lips.

“is that a little brat i see?” jaemin giggles, tickling your sides, “baby girl what am i going to do with you, hm?”

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t0shii · 3 years

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% comforting them when they're upset

.! oikawa, tsukishima, matsukawa (sep) x gn!r

.! angst + fluff/ breakdowns, crying, etc. lightly proofread bc im lazy so sorry for any mistakes.

.! im so sorry if this is absolute word vomit or horse shit 😭 i tried my best though 😌 uhhh sorry for not posting yesterday i got my daith pierced and i was in a lot of pain after that so i didnt feel like writing anywho enjoy this 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 p.s. i was originally gonna write for mad dog but i was struggling so i went with mattsun instead sorry. also idk why matsuns ended up being so short i didnt do him justice i apologize 😩

oikawa

— always gets discouraged when his knee bothers him. today was one of those days. his coach had made him sit out of practice because he had been limping a bit. he came home distraught and you noticed right away.

"what's the matter toru?" you asked opening your arms for a hug, which he accepted, wrapping his arms around your middle quite tightly. "my knee is bothering me again 'n coach made me sit out. it's just not fair." he mumbled into your shoulder. you could feel his tears soak through your shirt. you nodded and responded, "baby, he just doesn't want you to hurt yourself. i know it's not fair but-", "but i wanna play volleyball, i wanna get better and practice." he said, aggravated that you weren't exactly on his side, still he held you tighter.

"toru, baby, look at me." he does as told, and you bring your hands up to wipe his tear stained cheeks,"toru, you can't strain your knee anymore than you already do, you know this. i know you only want to play volleyball, baby i know, but you have to be patient." he nods in agreement and you do the same, then guiding his head back to your shoulder, "i know it's frustrating toru, but you can't force it, y'know? he wouldn't make you sit out if it wasn't for your best interest. you know that, deep down."

the two of you had been cuddling on the couch, his back against your chest when you heard him sniffling again, "toru, what's wrong?" you ask softly, sitting up slightly. "i'm so useless, my own knee can't even work right. the team deserves someone better and so d-do you" he hiccuped, hiding is face in his hands. you felt guilty for not comforting him more earlier. "toru, that's not true at all." you stated, forcing his hands into yours, "take it back right now." he looked at you confused. "toru oikawa i said take it back right this instant." you said a little sterner than before.

"no." he managed to get out through sobs, and you knew the stern method wasn't going to work this time around. "toru, please. you're not useless at all, not to anyone, not to the team, and especially not to me. you're the best teammate, friend and boyfriend anyone could ever ask for and your knee just needs a break sometimes, you just need a break sometimes and thats okay. needing a break doesn't make you useless or weak, toru." you say softly, guiding him to a sitting position, hugging him closely and tracing small, comforting shapes on his back.

"you're so so strong toru, and you're an amazing person, an amazing boyfriend, you're such an amazing volleyball player and i'm so proud of how far you've come since highschool." you say, kissing the crown of his head. "you mean it?" he asks leaning back to look at you, "i always do, toru. i love you more than anything, and i'm so so fucking proud of you, but you have to know, it's okay to need a break sometimes and it doesn't change who you are as a person and it definitely doesn't make you weak or useless. he nods in response, burrying his head into the crook of your neck. you both stay like that, you whispering words of affirmations, him listening fondly until he feels better a little while later.

tsukishima

— he usually didn't let the stress of professional volleyball get to him like this, but he couldn't help it he would be lying if he said he wasn't overwhelmed, from interviews, to extra practice to prepare for the overseas games he had coming up, he was exhausted, to add onto it all he had been neglecting you and he felt horrible for it.

you knew practice was going to be running late since your boyfriend had told you in advance, so you weren't initially worried as to why kei had been coming home late at night. this night in particular was the fourth night in a row kei been home late and you starting to grow concerned. you hadn't seen him hardly at all that week, which was unusual because he always made time for you no matter what. worried, you decided to stay awake and wait for him to get home.

when the time finally comes, your heart dropped at his appearance, he looked absolutely horrible, as if he hadn't slept right in weeks. "why are you up?" he mumbled, taking his shoes off rather sloppily, uncharacteristic of him. you made your way closer to yoir exhausted boyfriend, "kei, i'm worried about you. i know you don't like me meddling with your career, and please don't misunderstand my concern for that. i'm just worried you aren't getting enough rest and i've barely seen you at all this week." you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

you knew something was wrong when you saw the tear swell in his eyes, but he just stood there awkwardly, you walked closer toward him, "kei, what's wrong?" you ask, extending your arms toward him, which he basically fell into, he started sobbing immediately, shocking you initially. "i'm s-sorry for neglecting you this week, i didn't mean to i-i just-", "kei, i'm not worried about that, i'm worried that you aren't taking care of yourself properly." you mumble, patting his back comfortingly. to which he shakes his head no."work has been too much recently, i can't sleep and i barely have time to even think. its just practice, interviews, practice, interviews i-i can't handle it all anymore, y/n." he sobbed into your shoulder, you were speechless at his vulnerability.

"kei,-", "but i can't stop now because that'll make me a failure and i don't want to let you down and the team too, i just want to make everyone proud but i think i'm falling behind." he cried, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. "kei, you could never let me down. actually, i think i've been letting you down recently, i don't tell you this enough but, i'm so so proud of you kei, so proud you don't even understand, i'm sorry for not expressing that enough to you. i understand that you feel as if you're falling behind but overworking and stressing yourself out isn't going to help you improve, kei, and i know you also know that."

"you're working yourself sick, kei and i can't stand here and continue to let that happen so you're taking a day off whether you like it or not. tomorrow will be a me and you day, how does that sound? i'll call your coach in the morning." honestly, you wouldn't have let him say no anyways, and he knew that so he just nodded his head. "look at me kei, you have to tell me when you're feeling overwhelmed. it's not good to keep things in like this, it's just like you tell me." he nods his head, but avoids eye contact, "and i'm not disappointed or upset at you, you know. but i can't read your mind, so please just tell me when things start to feel like they're crashing down on you 'kay? i'll help you just like you help me." you smile, he looks at you and nods, hugs you closer and whispers an "i love you" into your ear, which you return.

matsuwaka

— you knew his work was stressful and emotionally and mentally exhausting, so there were always worries in the back of your mind that he would become too overwhelmed, well today your worries became reality.

"welcome home issei." you called from the kitchen as your boyfriend walked through the door, though he offered you no response, which made you frown. "issei?-" you gasped when you felt a pair of strong arms sneak their way around your waist, "jesus, issei, you scared me!" you giggle placing your hands atop of his own, but you realized he was not laughing with you. "issei, baby?" concern laced in your tone as you maneuvered your way around to face him, "what's wrong baby?" you ask, taking his face in your hands to wipe at escaping tears.

"work was rough today." was all he said as he melted at the feeling of your thumbs running back and forth on his cheeks. "oh issei, i'm sorry." you mumbled, kissing the tip of his nose lightly, "is there anything i can do to help?" he didn't know why but something inside of him snapped when you asked him that, and sobs escaped his lips, he could only hide his face in the space between your neck and shoulder because for some reason he felt... ashamed to be crying in front of you like this. "please just hold me." he cried, so you did just that, shushimg him when his sobs got violent, rubbing your hand up and down his back soothingly.

the both of you stood there for a good 15 minutes before you spoke up after he had calmed down a bit, "is there anything you need to get off your chest? you don't have to tell me now or even at all but i want you to know that whatever is bothering you, you can tell me, anything at all. i know your job is mentally exhausting and honestly i dont even know how you do it but i dont want you thinking you have to carry the burden of it alone, okay? i'm so proud of you, so so so proud of you issei, i just wanted you to know that."

you felt him nod in the crook of your neck, a soft, "thank you." sounding shortly after, "of course." you responded, kissing his shoulder a few time.he wasn't sure when he would feel completely ready to get things off his chest but he felt loved knowing that you would always be there to comfort him, and for that he was forever grateful.

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sinsbymanka · 3 years

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Writing Tag Game

Okay listen I’m on vacation XD hence why I’m ignoring everyone’s tags/taking forever to respond. But I’ve been tagged in this A LOT and I really liked it/wanted to do it so thank you to everyone who tagged me (oh my god I’m so sorry if I missed one of you there were SO MANY): @noire-pandora, @in-arlathan, @thevikingwoman, @morganlefaye79, @elveny, @kunstpause, @pikapeppa

I’m not tagging anyone because I’m tagging everyone since I’m too lazy to find my tag list (I’m on VACATION). If you’ve not gotten tagged and wanted to do this, say I tagged you.

How many works do you have on Ao3?

147 - I have 145 linked to my profile and two in the anonymous collection.

What's your total Ao3 wordcount?

1,468,248. Almost 1.5 million!!

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Of Miracles and Heroes (FenHawke, Cadash/Varric, Varania/Blackwall): 269

Interspecies Relationships Have Their Ups and Downs (Shakarian): 145

Don’t Make it Hawkeward (Varric/Hawke): 135

The Ambassador’s Vices (Josephine/Adaar): 111

The Girl with the Arrow Tattoo (Cadash/Varric): 101

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do (but - to be honest - it takes me FOREVER). I love comments. It’s so much easier to not leave comments than leave comments, so every time someone leaves one I’m blown away. I feel like - for leaving me a comment - you’re definitely owed an answer! I do apologize that it takes me awhile though - I am very bad at answering because they mean a lot to me and I get easily overwhelmed by the AO3 inbox I don’t know why. Blame anxiety.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

I’ll be honest, I don’t like angsty endings so I don’t have many of them. By far the angstiest ending I have is Flowers, Lies, and Forgiveness. This is a Bianca Davri/Varric Tethras fic set during the final act of DA2. I wrote it from Bianca’s POV - showing Varric unraveling under the pressure of Kirkwall and Bianca’s complicated feelings about infidelity to her husband who clearly cares about her as well. I wrote it for @hollyand-writes who always lets me lean into the tragic “fucked upness” of the pairing when I’m feeling like making Varric suffer.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending

I prefer happy endings so almost EVERYTHING has a happy ending. My favorite endings, so far, are for Cheating the Dread Wolf, which is my Varric/Cadash/Solas polycule (or as I like to refer to it - Solas has a dwarf kink) and The Viscount’s Mistress which is my Hurt/Comfort Cadash/Varric Trespasser bullshit.

Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you've written?

I have not written crossovers - but I am very into AUs in another setting that belongs to a different fictional universe. Most recently I got back into my Downton Abbey bullshit and wrote Flappers for Fen’harel which is basically a Downton Abbey AU Solas/Cadash and I’m not taking comments about the outrageousness of it.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yep. Honestly though? Over the two years I’ve been active in Fandom, the shitty comments can be counted on one hand and usually came from the same people over and over again, who are easily blocked, and should stop seeking out clearly labeled content they don’t like. Me and my work are not for everyone - that’s REALLY okay. I’ve blocked people for no other reason than making things I don’t like - that doesn’t mean they’re bad people.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

GOD DO I.

I am extremely sex and kink positive. Because of this - a lot of my work involves sex in some way or another. I think sex is a beautiful part of many (although not all) relationships, and that it’s frequently glossed over in mainstream media (particularly queer, kinky, and polyam sex).

This ranges from sort of vanilla slow burns (My Cole/Bea fic, Compassion for an Assassin, has smut which hasn’t been posted yet. It’s Cole’s first time and is fairly vanilla and romantic, and occurs approximately 40k into the fic) to some pretty dubious consent near 24/7 dom/sub dynamics with BDSM kinks (I’ve written JUST as much of the Sereda/Gorim problematic smut as @jarakrisafis has in our series Forced Moves).

There’s very few kinks I’m not willing to touch at least to try out - even if I end up not liking them. And the ones that aren’t for me are 100% allowed to exist and I will fight for them to the bloody end. My only recommendation is CLEARLY labeling your shit and not being afraid to add a tag if someone asks you to.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I’m aware of? I’ve seen ideas I’ve tried on picked up by other people - but I don’t consider that stealing and it’s hard to trace “who has been inspired by who” because we ALL have been inspired by thousands of other people and frankly more stuff for me when I pull you over to my weird AUs and rarepairs.

I also think that’s a huge part of not getting stolen - I’ve got so much weird niche shit that only a couple people read that stealing from me is going to most likely be caught IMMEDIATELY the audience is so small.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I don’t believe so!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! I’ve got some co-written secret smut with @blarfkey which almost nobody has seen, I’ve borrowed @tightassets Hawke, Lavellan, and Shepard for fics that she has illustrated, borrowed @tuffypelly‘s Adaars for some great fics, and my most ambitious project - the Forced Moves series with @jarakrisafis. It started out as us just exchanging gifts back and forth but we’ve wrangled it into Gambits and Countergambits, an Aeducan-origin prequel, that I’m VERY proud of.

I love co-writing very much, but it’s very important to find the right partner and for it to be someone you trust completely.

What's your all time favourite ship?

This is a stupidly hard question because I am, at heart, a multi-shipper.

I love Varric/Hawke and Varric/Cadash. I’m also a sucker for Solas/Cadash. My fandom pool noodle is Varric/Cadash/Solas which I adore, and I’m very fond of Cole/Cadash.

Most recently I’ve been DEEP in Aeducan/Gorim Saelac, Bhelen/Rica/Vartag, and Aeducan/Brosca feels. Dwarf origins are the best origins in my opinion and those characters are PERFECT.

What's a WIP you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

I fully plan on finishing everything. My writing style changed a lot, for the better, in a short period of time. I need to integrate my old style/new style and had to get a pep talk about how to do that. Now I’m ready to try as soon as I finish Compassion for an Assassin.

What are your writing strengths?

I write very sexy, hot smut. I also really like playing with character voice and making sure I get them “right” so I do a lot of experimenting before publishing a new character for the first time.

I struggle to write action scenes - it’s like pulling fucking teeth - but people really LOVE my action scenes and they read well. So that’s something I’m proud of even if it feels like doing fucking pull ups.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I never learned anything. My experiences with English and writing teachers were overwhelmingly negative. I’m unsure if I’m just not cut out for classes or if they were that bad, but I always left feeling like there was one “right” way to do it, and everything I liked was “bad”, so what was the point of “learning” anything?

It turns out there’s this very pompous, pretentious thought process in writing where people “assume” things must be done, but GOOD writing teachers teach you the rules and then how to break them. I either never had a good writing teacher or got too intimidated to give them a chance before bouncing.

So I’m exceedingly self-taught. I lack the vocabulary to discuss plot structure, characterization, grammar, etc. I instinctively know most of these things based on trial and error and reading, but I didn’t learn them and I miss a lot of nuance in the rules, but until recently I was still too intimidated and unsure of myself to admit that or take it seriously.

So - my defense mechanism is NOT taking ANYTHING seriously. If my writing is a joke to me, it’s gotta be a joke to everyone else, but that’s been a shield to hide behind instead of being thoughtful about things. I’m here to have fun, yes, but there’s nothing wrong with learning a technique to the art.

I’ve learned - mostly thanks to @blarfkey who is an amazing person and a wonderful teacher - that I am a good writer based on my self-teaching. And being intimidated of people who throw around impressive sounding words is a weakness that I am working on.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Use sparingly and with good reason. It should be short and explained later or clear from context.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter on message boards back in the fucking day. Thankfully none of it exists anywhere anymore.

What's your favourite fic you've written?

This is such a sappy answer and I’m so sorry. My favorite things have been written for and because of people I love and care about. When I read them, I’m not just reading the story, but remembering the relationships I’ve made and how important they are.

So, my top three fics for THAT reason:

1. Cheating the Dread Wolf - written for @blarfkey who inspired the idea and ruthlessly encouraged me to make it happen. This fic was so healing for me because it heavily features Fatherhood within it - and I lost my father in June 2020. I don’t know if I’d have been able to do it without her and it was so important for me to do.

2. Gambits and Countergambits - written with @jarakrisafis and the culmination of a years worth of gifting shit back and forth and crafting a shared universe. The worldbuilding, smut, relationships, EVERYTHING about this fic is so deeply and passionately cared about by both of us and to our knowledge it is completely, totally unique.

3. Relentless, Ridiculous, and Rakish - one of my only primarily gen-fics focusing on a forming brother/sister relationship between Maria Cadash and @tuffypelly‘s Otsar Adaar. I very much enjoyed writing it for her <3

And then my overall favorite fic:

The Viscount’s Mistress: I have a lot of opinions about how fanfiction treats the anchor’s meltdown and the aftermath. It’s one of the things in DAI that resonated with me SO much as someone who lives with chronic pain and a disability. I loved the fact my OC was in the same shoes and STILL saving the world. This is very much a fic that explores all the dark sides of trauma, pain, and the mental health effects of it. But it ends on a happy and hopeful note.

#manka writes #writer tag game thing

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ultimate-distaster-material · 3 years

Text

-Saiouma Oneshots- Kindergarten Teacher! Kokichi x Parent! Shuichi

>Quick Disclaimer< In this story, Monaca is nice- Her legs are actually disabled as well. I tried to mention everyone who is in the actual story's POVS. The adults are 22 whereas the kids are 5. Kirigiri and Shuichi are childhood friends too.

This story is very long, it was made to show my appreciation for all of the support. Sorry it took so long for me to update.

!TW!

Family Issues

Mentions Trauma

Mentions Dead Bodies

kIsSinG (Ok I'll stop)

KOKICHI POV

“So, Nagisa. I heard you’re getting a new caretaker?”

I looked at Nagisa, pitying the poor boy. He never had good parents. They would always force the youngling to work, days over days, sometimes hitting him to help him stay awake. That’s his reason for being very smart at a young age.

I would always stay here with him in the afternoon, occupying him so he doesn’t have to go back home.

“Mhm! I heard he’s a boy, I hope he’s nice!”

I smiled at the small boy. Even with all the despair he has been through during his life, he still had a glimpse of hope resting in his heart. I admired him for this, he was very strong for pulling through all the drama, especially as a child.

“Y’know, I’m gonna miss going here when I grow up. Will I ever see you again?”

“I mean, I could probably get in contact with your new caretaker, and could visit you once in a while…”

“I don’t wanna leave this place…”

I comforted him as his tears threatened to fall from his eyes, tracing random designs on his back, listening to his troubles. I suddenly heard a knock on the door. I energetically got up from my seat, Nagisa following close behind me, and then opened the door.

There was a man with teal blue hair and a detective uniform standing at the door. He looked kinda sexy-

“Hello, Mr. Detective~ You here for something?”

He stared at me before handing me a few slips of paper. Adoption papers? Wha-

“Who are you?”

Nagisa was a little scared, as he was a detective. The poor boy probably thought that the man was here for something serious.

I hushed Nagisa as I pulled him infront of me, giving him a good view of the man.

“My apologies…I’m Shuichi Saihara. Nice to meet you.”

I nodded at him and decided to introduce Nagisa and myself/

“I’m Kokichi Ouma, and this is Nagisa. Judging by the adoption papers, I’m guessing you’re here for Nagisa?”

He nodded and shook the hand I held out to him. He had such a calming voice…

“Are you mean?”

“I promise I’m no-“

“You smell like coffee.

“Wha-“

“Nagisa, it’s not ok to interrupt people y’know.”

Nagisa muttered a small ‘sorry’ to me and the man before getting his bag. He peered up at me with teary eyes. I could tell he didn’t want to go with a new parent, due to trust issues. I sighed and pat him on the head.

“You better take care of him.”

Shuichi smiled at me, reassuring that everything was going to be fine. I held out my phone with my contacts open.

“Phone number?”

I asked him as he took my phone (and ran off with it) and he handed me his, and we both entered each other’s phone number. Nagisa smiled as I showed him my phone, his eyes gleaming with hope and joy. I couldn’t help but smile back at him. Shuichi even grinned at us placing his hands gently on Nagisa’s shoulder. I waved them goodbye as they waved back, Nagisa ranting to Shuichi about me. I’m glad I was able to make him happy. I walked around the small room, arranging everything back into its normal places and counting all the items to see if they were still there. 10 paint brushes, 2 art easels, 20 pencils, 5 paint palettes, 40 books and 7 whiteboard markers. Looks like I’m running low on markers, I’ll grab some in the morning. I smiled and locked the door behind me. I strolled down the street under the glowing sky, showing colours of orange, yellow, red, and peach. I sat calmly at the bus stop, taking off my painting apron and stuffing it into my bag neatly. I placed earplugs into my ears and started playing my favourite playlist.

Soon the bus arrived, squeaking its brakes as it parked into the bus stop. I sighed and planted my feet onto the ground as boarded the bus. It didn’t take long to get home.

||Time Skip Cuz Lazy||

I jingled my keys as I brought them out of my pocket, slotting them into the lock and opening the doors to the kindergarten. I walked in, turning on the fans by a little, and the lights. I began to write whatever was happening onto the big whiteboard and restocked my pens. I smiled as children and parent sprawled into the room, yet keeping an eye out for Nagisa. If he had any new scars or bruises, or darker eyebags, Shuichi won’t be waking up the next day. I waited about five minutes, everyone was here, but the two people I had been waiting for.

Suddenly, the doors swung open, and I spotted Shuichi giving the small child a piggy-back ride. I smiled as they both grinned back at me, Nagisa climbing off the adults back and running over to me.

“Kokichi! You won’t believe it! He let me use his magnifying glass and we went to the park. He even pushed me on the swing! I love my new dad!”

I grinned wider, glad Shuichi was giving him a good treatment. He even said he loved him.

“That’s great Nagisa! I’m grateful that Shuichi has been treating you right.”

Shuichi lovingly hugged Nagisa.

“I better go, or I’ll be late for work! Bye, have a good day you two! I love both of you!”

The young boy I waved goodbye as the detective briskly walked out of the kindergarten building, waving us goodbye, blushing. Wait, he loved both of us…?

||POV Change||

SHUICHI POV

I walked out the door, blushing crazily. I can’t believe I said that. I’m so embarrassed…

I hopped into the car, driving down to the detective agency. When I had first met Kokichi, I thought he looked a little cute, but I just ignored my thoughts. I’ll just tell him I was talking Nagisa and his non-existent imaginary friend…yeah I’ll just do that.

I arrived at the agency, closing the door gently behind me and taking in a deep breath. The aroma of coffee wafted around the area. No wonder I smelt like coffee…According to Nagisa anyways.

“Good morning Mr. Saihara. You looked like you’ve slept well!”

My partner, detective Kirigiri. I grinned at her, starting to tell her about Nagisa. She nodded at me while I spoke, thankful that I finally had something to cheer me up. I had been so busy with work lately that I was so tired to even show much emotion.

“So, Shuichi. We have a new case to work on.”

“Hm? What’s it about?”

“Just a new murder case, the usual.”

I nodded at her getting my file reports organized and ready. She gave me some evidence, suspect reports, reports of the victim and the time and place of the murder.

“It seemed to be planned too…”

I muttered as she passed over a small picture which showed the room.

“Huh?”

I pointed at the picture, spotting a nearly invisible ‘escape route plan’ peeking out of the screen. You could only see half of it though.

“That’s new…”

“Wait…How did you know this wasn’t there? Weren’t you at the crime scene?”

“It was a photo in the victims camera roll. You were correct, I was there, but it seems like the killer needed this to escape.”

“That makes sense.”

“So, the killer must’ve either been scared they would mess up, has a bad memory or had minimum time to figure this out…”

She agreed with me and pointed to the wall again, pointing back to the photo.

“There seems to be something white in the vents that we never checked.”

She stated bluntly while narrowing her eyes to get a better look.

“You’re right! Why didn’t you check the vents though…?”

“Rats.”

“Wha-“

I shrugged it off and looked back at Kyoko, then the picture again. She smirked at me and placed a hand on my shoulder.

“You wanna check it out, don’t you.”

“Kinda-“

“Well, what are you waiting for?”

I followed her out of the building, and we entered the car park, halting to a stop right infront of a shining, neon purple motorcycle. It gleamed in the sunlight and Kyoko continued to smirk at me.

“Chickening out?”

“N-No..”

“Good.”

She grabbed a helmet off the dark purple handlebars and gave it to me, claiming to have a spare one in her bag that she could wear. Which she did.

She hopped onto the motorcycle, gesturing for me to do the same. I gulped and lifted my leg over the seat and sat down, trembling.

“Hold on tight!”

I didn’t hesitate to do exactly as she told me. She revved the engine, and we took off down the road, her purple hair flowing viciously in the wind. I was petrified. We were going veryfast. I gulped as I felt the wind blow in my face. I rested my chin on Kirigiri’s shoulder, avoiding her purple hair flowing into my face as we raced around the city. The city lights were blurred, and people looked like smudge marks. I peered down at the road, barely able to adjust to the distorted white line and concrete. I felt a sickening dizziness, and my head just couldn’t keep up with my blurry surroundings. Yet, I felt like I was in heaven. The glorious wind blowing in my face, the soothing noises of the motorcycle engine, and the feel of Kyoko’s warmth. I closed my eyes, loosing touch with everything around me. I was in my own little world. That was, until I sensed the motorcycle slow to a halt and Kyoko’s small weight lift off the motorcycle. But since I was laying on her, she lifted me up too without realizing, and my body went tumbling forward, Kyoko’s doing the same.

“Sorry…”

I sighed and apologized, staring at the ground. She arose from the ground, dusting off her uniform and patting me delicately on my back.

“No worries, Saihara-Kun. Just be careful next time.”

I nodded as we barged into the murder scene, nobody being there.

“Watch out. We cannot predict anything. Expect the unexpected.”

I remembered her wise words and examined the room, Kirigiri assisting me by lifting me up, since I weighed less, and I unscrewed the vents to see a rat. Great. I sneakily snatched the paper and Kyoko lowered me back down to the ground, peering over my shoulder to see if anything useful was written on the small piece of white paper. It read,

Sorry, my dear friend.

“So, the victim was the culprit’s friend….

“Seems so.”

“Wait, why wasn’t it near the victim then?”

“When we arrived, the fan was on, making it completely possible to blow into the vents, in which the paper could slip through, and the rats could’ve possibly taken it.”

I nodded to show my agreement and we inspected the room a little longer. I spotted her typing on her phone a few moments later, sighing.

“Saihara-Kun.”

“Y-Yes?”

“Are you gonna leave your kid at kindergarten or…”

Shuichi blankly stared down at his wrist, reading the time.

2:12

Nagisa’s kindergarten ended at 2:00. He was over the other side of the city. He would be very late, as they had no car.

“Take my motorcycle. I want to stay a bit longer anyways.”

“Really? Thank you Kirigiri-San!”

I rushed out of the building, grabbing a sleek blue helmet and boarded the motorcycle. The wheels screeched as I raced across the city, my hair spasming in the wind. The motorbike’s wheels whirred as they rolled along the road, forcing the motorbike to drive faster. My hands gripped the handlebars incredibly tight, fearing the vehicle would stir out of control if I didn’t have power over the handlebars.

There it was. The kindergarten. I zoomed towards it, halting to a stop in the parking lot. I rushed inside, panting heavily as Kokichi and Nagisa were staring at me. The small, blue-haired boy ran over, enveloping me in a tight hug. I lovingly hugged back, patting his back in the process.

“Where were you? Parents shouldn’t be late, y’know.”

I gulped and peered up at the kindergarten teacher, mentally scolding myself. I knew I shouldn’t have been late. If it wasn’t for my partner, I would’ve left Nagisa there until I suddenly realized that he wasn’t anywhere nearby.

“Kokichi, don’t blame Dad! He had a really important case today!”

“Alright, just tell me next time.”

I muttered a sorry, and nodded, showing my understanding. The kindergarten teacher walked up to me, swiftly patting Nagisa’s head for a short period of time, then shifted to face me. I gulped, fearing I would get in trouble for not being a ‘good parent’.

“Why’d you call both of us cute.”

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about-“

“Why.”

I looked to the side, shivering a little and sighing. I soon peered back at him.

“Look..”

My ahoge resembled a deflated balloon. It was deformed, bent at every inch.

“It just slipped out, okay…?”

He looked at me, unamused, rolling his eyes and sighing.

“Totally…”

“Well, Nagisa and I have to go…”

“Alrighty! See you Nagisa!”

“What about me-“

“What about you?”

I rolled my eyes as I watched Kokichi ruffle Nagisa’s hair. He looked down at the boy expectantly.

“Nagisa has wanted to ask you something, but he’s clearly too shy…”

He nudged Nagisa knowingly, as the small boy stuttered out words.

“Well…I was wondering if some of my friends could have a sleepover…I’ve never had one, and…”

There was an awkward silence as my mind scanned over what I had planned next week. Nothing.

“Or not! T-That’s fine t-too!”

He looked sad and embarrassed at the same time, fiddling uneasily with his fingers, making eye contact with the ground.

“No, its fine! I was just trying to remember if I had anything scheduled next week…We can have one!”

Nagisa’s eye lit up, sparkles glimmering in his blue orbs. He shined so brightly as he bounced around the room excitedly. Then I realized something.

“Wait-“

“What?”

Kokichi looked up at me, clearly waiting for an answer.

“How am I gonna get Kyoko’s motorbike back to her-“

“You drove a motorcycle.”

“Yes-“

Kokichi jingled the keys on his short fingers, swaying them from side to side. He stared into my eyes, smiling.

“Want a ride then? I could pack the motorbike in the back of my car and drop it of to ‘whatever her name is’.”

“Kirigiri.”

“Right.”

The three of us strolled out of the kindergarten, after Kokichi had tidied up all the mess and checked up on everything, locking the doors behind us as we exited the building. Hopping into the car, we all drove off down the road, me directing the other adult towards the crime scene. Leaving the car, I unpacked the motorbike as Kokichi and Nagisa followed me in. I shifted to look back at the others.

“Uhm, I don’t think Nagisa should see this…”

“Why?”

I leaned into Kokichi’s ear and whispered to him.

“Dead body.”

He bobbed his head to show his agreement, Nagisa looking back and forth at us, confused. He held an arm infront of Nagisa, restricting him from going further, as I entered the building.

||POV CHANGE||

NAGISA POV

I watched as Dad entered the house, a bit worried. Why couldn’t I go in there? I decided to ask Kokichi.

“Why can’t I go in? What’s even in there?”

“Something you don’t want to see.”

I gave him a look of uncertainty, waiting for Dad to come back. I was a little worried, so I decided to start a conversation.

“I think you like Dad, am I right?”

“He seems pretty nice, probably would be a good friend.”

“No, you like Dad in that way. Not friendship, love.”

His eyes widened as he blushed furiously.

“W-Why would you t-think that, N-Nagisa?”

“So, you do like him.”

“N-No! I don’t!”

I rolled my eyes a little. It was so obvious. The whole time Kokichi and I were waiting for Dad, he was talking about him. Literally the whole time. I remember our conversation, word for word.

||Flashback||

“Alright! Time to go everyone!”

Kokichi opened the doors, the young children flooding out of the kindergarten. He sighed as he looked around after all the young kids were safely returned to their parents.

“Nagisa, where’s Shuichi?”

“He told me he was investigating today, apparently it was really serious!”

“Right…”

Kokichi sat on one of the chairs, relaxing his legs and leaning against the table. I did the same, and looked at him.

“Y’know, Shuichi is kinda hot.”

“Wha-“

“His hair is pretty, don’t you think?”

All I could do is agree. Kokichi peered down at his watch. 2:10. He sighed.

“I’m just going to text him-“

“Don’t.”

“Why not?”

“He never answers when he’s at work…”

Kokichi fiddled the phone in his hands, clearly annoyed. Probably wanted to see Shuichi. Who knows?

“I know someone who does answer their phone though.”

He peered at me and handed me his phone. I cheerfully took it and tried to memorize their number. Typing it in, I quickly added the number to Kokichi’s contacts and texted the person. I had seen their number when Shuichi and Kokichi exchanged phone numbers.

‘Hello, do you know Shuichi Saihara by any chance? If so, do you know where he is?’

‘Yes, Shuichi is my work partner at the detective agency. We are currently investigating together. Who is this?’

‘This is Nagisa, his adoptive son. I’m texting him on my kindergarten teacher’s phone. I just wanted to tell him that kindergarten ended 12 minutes ago.’

‘Thank you Nagisa. I will have Shuichi know. He sure is forgetful.’

‘Thank you! Can I please know your name?’

‘Kyoko. Kyoko Kirigiri.’

‘Wait, how do you know my number?’

‘I memorized it when I saw Shuichi and my teacher exchange numbers. Sorry if that’s creepy or anything…’

‘It’s fine. I have to go now. Goodbye Nagisa!’

‘Bye!’

I turned off the phone, the glowing screen fading into pitch black darkness. I peered at Kokichi, telling him that Shuichi should be here soon.

||Present Time||

We were still waiting for Shuichi when I spotted Kyoko and himself exit the huge building. Kyoko stared at me, grinning slightly.

“Are you Nagisa?”

I nodded as she walked up to me, ruffling my hair playfully, then glaring at Shuichi. I could see him gulp and look away.

“And you are…?”

“I’m Kokichi, Nagisa’s teacher.”

“Nice to meet you.”

They shook hands, smiling at each other joyfully.

||POV CHANGE||

KIRIGIRI POV

I’m a little disappointed in Shuichi if I’m being honest.

Leaving your kid who’s in kindergarten with his teacher?

I mean, me and Shuichi have known each other since we were kids and happened to get into the same agency. I know Shuichi. He is forgetful, but not this forgetful. I mentally facepalmed at his previous actions and shook hands with Kokichi.

Nagisa and Kokichi look like they have a close relationship.

I disconnected our hands, watching as Kokichi signalled for Shuichi to enter the car. The two closed the doors behind them, waiting for Nagisa to say goodbye. The younglings hand reached for the door handle, struggling to open the car door. I went to assist him, just to realise it was locked. Shuichi and Kokichi strained to unlock the doors from the inside.

How did this even happen-

“D-Dad!”

Nagisa panicked as he saw the two people he seemed to be the closest to stuck inside the black and white car. I sighed as I saw the trapped kindergarten teacher flirt with the parent. Shuichi literally looked like his parents were a combination of a tomato and strawberry. I watched them as they continued to flirt together. I mentally facepalmed and refocused on the incident infront of me.

I saw Nagisa’s confused face as he walked up to peer through the window, prying into their business. I gently tapped the window, catching their attention.

“Are you two lovebirds done?”

I yelled from the other side of the window. They both were facing me, furiously blushing. In full honesty, they look like they dyed their faces bright pink.

“I’m going to break the window- “

“NAGISA DON’T- “

Too late. Nagisa had grabbed a rock off the ground and pounded it against the window.

“Really- “

“Sorry I was panicking…”

“It’s fine…”

“I guess we’re driving back with a broken window.”

“I guess they call you a detective for a reason!”

Kokichi laughed at his own joke as Shuichi giggled as well. It was so obvious they liked each other, they were so blind and dense. I could tell they liked each other, yet they were uncertain the other loved them back. I sighed and grabbed my purple helmet, putting the blue one Shuichi used in my sleek black bag.

“I’ll be going now.”

I waved goodbye as I hopped onto the motorbike, smiling as my purple streaks of hair flowed relaxingly behind me as I sped down the road. Out of the corner of my eyes. I could see the Kokichi pull Shuichi into a quick kiss through the car’s windscreen, Nagisa just staring in horror. Poor innocent thing.

-BONUS SCENE-

||TIME SKIP||

||W.O.H SLEEPOVER PLANNING||

||3RD PERSON||

“Hey Nagisa…Hey Jataro…I was thinking, I really want to get away from my parents…Do you know anything I could do?”

Kotoko raised a finger to her chin, in deep thought, looking a little depressed. Jataro looked sad as well.

“I just want to get away from everyone…”

Nagisa peered down, sad from seeing his friends loose hope. Monaca wheeled herself over to join our conversation.

“I just want someone to notice me…”

Masaru sat on the ground soon after, despairful.

“I just want to have a peaceful household…”

Nagisa peered down at the ground, wanting to encourage his friends to be joyful. Sure, he had trauma as well, but there is still happiness. He just began to spit out words of reassurance to his small group of friends.

“Jataro, why would you want to disappear from everyone? We are all here. We want you to be here. What’s that point in leaving everyone if everyone needs you here?”

He peered up at Nagisa, who was staring at him, the boy’s wise words causing a smile to form on his face.

“Monaca, we are your friends We notice you. Stop acting like nobody does, because if you haven’t already guessed, you are our friend. We notice you. Why would I be talking to you if I didn’t know you were here?”

She smiled at the blue haired boy, watching as some of the other kindergarten teachers came over. Komaru, Toko and Nagito stood there, watching their students, along with Kokichi who the whole time had secretly been there, unnoticed.

“Masaru! Kotoko! I think I have a solution to your problems!”

Nagisa shouted as the teachers watched, inspired by the boy’s acts of hope. Nagito especially. Toko had to slap a hand over his mouth so they wouldn’t interrupt the kids. Nagisa thought of the time where he was talking to Kirigiri while saying his goodbyes. She had told him these exact words.

“Shuichi has been so happy since he adopted you, y’know. I’ve been thinking about what my future would be like if I had a child. Say, did you know any that need a better home? I do want more than one though…”

“There is a solution I might have, but I need to check. Also, my Dad agreed on the idea to have a sleepover!”

“Sounds great!”

Everyone cheered in unison as they started planning what they would do, also deciding what snacks to bring. Monaca was spinning in her wheelchair in excitement, Masaru pushing her around in circles while Jataro inspired them to continue. Kotoko and Nagisa were drawing each other with crayons, Kokichi sitting on the other side of the table, spreading conversations.

Soon enough, it was time to go home. They all wished each other goodbye, as Kokichi drove Nagisa back to their house. They parked in the driveway, to see Shuichi waiting for them on their front porch.

“Good afternoon you two! How was your day?”

Kokichi ruffled Nagisa’s hair as he explained his day to Shuichi, also asking if he could tell Kirigiri about what I had found out.

“Ah- Sorry, Kyoko wants to see me. I will tell her the news as well Nagisa.”

“Bye!”

The small boy and Kokichi cheered and waved in unison, watching as Shuichi peered back at them, about to leave.

“Bye! I love both of you. And this time, I mean it.”

#Saiouma #Oumasai #g a y #detective more like defective #h i #danganronpa v3 #ultra despair girls #danganronpa #omg thats so gay wth

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rhetoricalrogue · 3 years

Text

Five More Minutes

Inspired by all the talk about various detectives turning and knowing that Astrid needs to be Dramatic™️ at times, here she is, giving her boyfriend (and mother, and honorary mother figure, and best friends, and...) grief post-turning. This most likely would take place a couple of years into a relationship with Adam, and she’s had a while to decide that this is the path she wants to take for the rest of her (hopefully long) life.

As always, Fiona belongs to @asaucyginger. I borrow her from time to time for shenanigans and to antagonize Adam. Astrid also has Chris Hemsworth giving out complements as her alarm clock on her phone, but only has that alarm on when Adam’s not around since while she may appreciate waking up to the sound of her celebrity crush, she knows the feeling is most definitely not mutual for Adam.

She slept for a solid week after making the transition from human to vampire. It’s wasn’t even a typical for her type of slumber - eyes twitching behind closed eyelids, breath soft and limbs relaxed - she slept as if she were literally dead, stiff, no movement whatsoever. If it weren’t for the sluggish single beat of her heart every ten seconds (Adam knew, every count of ten had been absolute torture until he heard it beat again,) Agency doctors would have deemed the procedure a failure.

One of the few positives for her being unresponsive after her change - a change that had been fairly uneventful, boring even, blessedly peaceful in it’s own way with a minimum of pain - was that she hadn’t been awake to witness the doctors perform surgery on her leg to extract the various screws and plates that she had lived with since she had been nineteen. Adam wondered how their absence would change the way she fought, seeing that she and Fiona had worked to design a swordfighting style to accommodate for a weaker knee and to protect her ankle.

The scar would remain, the doctors told them both, fairy and vampire momentarily setting aside their differences for the person they both loved as they had both paced the waiting room in worry. There was a slight tone of apology to that announcement, but both of them had breathed a sigh of relief.

One of the things Astrid had worried about was losing her scars, voicing a fear that everything her body had gone through in her short thirty-three years of existence would be wiped clean and rendered meaningless. Adam hoped she would be pleased when she discovered it hadn’t, even though the last traces of the scar Murphy had inflicted upon her had vanished, her new nature taking care of what Agency magic and medicine had started. He wondered if she would be relieved to have it gone, seeing as its presence had always bothered her and she took pains to hide it, even though it hadn’t been that visible to the ordinary eye.

Since she’d still been unresponsive after the first hour, her first feeding, and every other feeding since, had been done intravenously. Adam watched through the security cameras as Elidor had carefully set her up for the transfusion. No one had voiced it out loud, but everyone knew about how she had bitten Murphy in a similar situation. If she had bitten off a piece of his face as a human, there was no telling what she could do as a vampire if she suddenly woke up and had a negative flashback response. To his credit, Elidor had been unafraid, patting her limp hand and holding a cheerful, one-sided conversation with her the entire time.

A day passed and visitors arrived at the observation room. Markus and Tony became fixtures, both refusing to leave even after Tony almost got into a fight with security about not being allowed into Astrid’s room. She was too unstable, they said. There was no way to know how she would react if she woke up: she might be fine, she might decide to make a snack out of one of her oldest and dearest friends. It took both Fiona and Markus to talk him down and lead him back down the hall before he got kicked out of the facility.

Adam and the rest of Unit Bravo learned a lot of goofy stories about Astrid from the other three. Markus tended to stick with anecdotes from battle re-enactments and drunken post-fighting party hijinks while Tony went on tangents about their many annual Fancy New Year’s Eve parties in the City. Fiona’s voice grew soft as she recounted Astrid’s childhood and what it had been like to be a caretaker turned honorary mother figure to her since Astrid was two. Rebecca, who hadn’t budged from looking at her daughter through the monitor, thanked her for being there for Astrid when she couldn’t.

On the sixth day, the doctors allowed Cashew in, thinking that a familiar pet would bring her out of her catatonic state. Cashew, Adam was relieved to see, was unfazed by his mistress’s transformation. He merely gave her chin a few headbutts while honking plaintively before curling up at her side, his head resting in her elbow and his feet fitting into the palm of her hand. After an hour of no response, Cashew was put back into his crate and taken back to Adam’s room in the Facility. Adam knew that he wouldn’t stray far from the place until Astrid could go home, so prior to her turning, the two of them made sure Cashew would be comfortable there. Aside from a few honks to let them know he would have rather preferred his own home instead of the temporary setup, the cat had seemed fine.

Adam broke rank on the seventh day. He didn’t know if it was his fear that the woman he loved would never wake, agony at being so close yet so incredibly far from her for an entire week, the fact that he desperately needed to sleep - Nate had begged him to rest, promising that he would wake him at the slightest hint of change. Adam had refused; how could he sleep with Astrid in this state? - or a combination of the three, but in the early hours of the morning, he silently made his way out of the observation room, moving past everyone dozing in chairs and cots that had been set up for them, and walking purposely down the hall. The lone security guard only made the barest of attempts to stop him before standing down, most likely because the look on Adam’s face had stopped them in their tracks.

Astrid’s room held a faint antiseptic scent to it, most likely from the wipes used on her arm for her daily transfusions. The monitor she was hooked up to beeped in time with the slow beating of her heart and now that he was there with her in person, he could see the shallow, barely there rise and fall of her chest as she drew breath. Adam sat at the edge of the bed and counted: ten beats for her heart, twenty for her breath.

“Must you be so dramatic?” he asked, his hand reaching out to bring hers up, his lips pressed against her knuckles before turning her hand over and leaving a lingering kiss to her palm. “This has gone on long enough, don’t you think?”

The video in the observation room, no matter how crisp, had failed to capture the almost luminous quality of her skin correctly. She’d always had a healthy glow to her pale skin, but now it was highlighted even more. The freckles that dusted the tops of her cheeks and across her nose were still there as well, but they were subdued, like constellations obscured by a cloudy sky. Adam winced at the thought, knowing Nate could come up with a better metaphor.

He pressed a second kiss to her palm, then another to her wrist. Aside from the barest of changes to her complexion and a brighter, healthier sheen to her copper hair, Astrid had not changed. It wouldn’t have mattered to him one way or another: Astrid was Astrid no matter what she looked like and he would love her in any form she took, but he knew it would matter to her. Adjusting to whatever new preternatural abilities she gained would be an ordeal in itself, adjusting while feeling like a stranger in her own body would have added a level of difficulty to the process.

“I know you hate to wake on time, but please.” Adam reached out with his other hand and tenderly cupped her cheek. “Wake up. For me.”

Moments passed. Three heartbeats, two exhales. Adam hunched down and pressed his face against her chest, silently hoping to feel her fingers comb through his hair. “You’re forcing my hand,” he told her, gathering her close. Moving until his mouth brushed against the shell of her ear, he closed his eyes and grimaced. “The things I do for you.”

“Hey you. Yes, yes, yes you. Today is your day. You’ve got this. You’re absolutely crushing it at everything you do.” He leaned back when the familiar sound of her heart sounded at eight seconds, then another at seven. “You’re more than capable of taking on the world, the whole world, by storm.”

It was faint, but he swore he saw her eyelid twitch. “Speaking of the world, did you know that it’s a better place with you in it?” He brushed the backs of his fingers against her cheek. “You’re strong, you’re confident. You’re intelligent, you’re charismatic. On a scale of one to ten, you are an eleven.” He held his breath, desperately trying to find a change as he continued to recite words from a video she’d set as her usual alarm clock. The heart rate monitor next to the bed gave one beep, then two, the long, flat line on the screen making more regular jumps.

It would figure your blasted favorite actor would cause a reaction, he thought, pressing his forehead to hers. “You make me want to be a better man. Astrid, please. Open your eyes.”

One heartbeat, then two, then more until Astrid’s heart gained a cadence that was oh so familiar to him. Her breathing patterns reminded him of lazy Sunday mornings, of her asleep in his arms and half-mumbling about five more minutes. You’ve had longer than five minutes, he thought, hand tilting her face up. He didn’t have long, even if people woke to cause a diversion, until Agency doctors burst in with protests about how unsafe it was to be in such close proximity to a newly made vampire, no matter how well-fed they ensured her to be.

Astrid would never intentionally harm him, he knew that fact down to his bones. His faith in her was the reason he held no fear as he kissed her, hoping that the wishes he held back for her safe return to him would take root.

There was a twitch, the barest feeling of being kissed back that had Adam slowly sitting up straight so he could better look at her face. Ever so slowly, Astrid’s eyelashes fluttered until she blinked up at him.

“Hi.”

Adam let out a relieved laugh, heart soaring at the sound of her voice, cracked and groggy from sleep as it was. “Hello.”

She took a deep breath and blinked again, looking as if she were taking a mental inventory of her surroundings and wincing at every sound. “It worked?”

He nodded. “It did.” Reaching over, he turned off the monitor so it wouldn’t continue to irritate Astrid’s sharper hearing. “How do you feel?”

She peeled off the sticky sensor from her chest and made a move to sit up, Adam standing and offering his hands to assist. “I feel…” she looked around, her hands squeezing his. “Different, but sort of the same? I can’t describe it. I’m me, but…”

“Take your time.”

She grinned as she swung her legs over the side of the bed, eyes instantly locking onto her leg and shoulders sagging in relief at the sight of a familiar scar. “Sort of have all the time in the world now, don’t we?”

Adam pulled her to her feet and held her close, fingers sinking into her hair. “That we do.”

“So, how long was I out? Did we miss that special on the History Channel we were going to watch while sipping on blood bags and eating a cheese board?”

He held her closer, the side of his face buried against hers. “Astrid, you’ve been asleep for a week. We most certainly missed the show, but I recorded it for you to watch when you’re ready.”

She jerked up, the top of her head banging against his chin. “What?” her voice was louder than normal and she winced at the sound. “A whole week?”

“Trust me, it was troubling for us all too.”

Her eyes widened. “Cashew! Who’s been taking care of my cat?”

Suppressing the urge to roll his eyes, Adam settled for raising an eyebrow instead. “Our cat. Don’t worry, I made sure he didn’t starve.”

She froze, head cocking to the side. “There’s someone coming down the hall.” Her nose crinkled a bit. “This is so weird, how the hell do I know that’s Tony by smell alone?” She sniffed again. “And why does he smell like the cotton candy from that boardwalk we always go to on his birthday?”

“You’ll get used to it. I don’t think you’ll have a lack of vampires ready to help you answer any questions you may have.”

Astrid’s arms tightened around his waist and he felt the barest of trembles. Knowing her as he did, he knew she was trying to put on a strong front as she attempted to center herself in her new reality, acute senses and all. “I do have one question,” she stated, head against his shoulder.

“What is it?”

“Would it be possible to get a few minutes to myself? Markus is coming down the hall with like five other people and…” She looked up at him, the barest hint of fangs peeking out from behind her lips. It was maddeningly endearing. “I love them all, but it’s a little much?”

He nodded, kissing the crown of her head as he did so. “I’ll see what I can do.”

He had his hand on the doorknob when she called back to him. “Once you stall them, will you come back? I don’t really want to be alone-alone, and you…”

He understood the look she gave him, the unspoken sentiment that hovered between them. There would be time later to express it - and how light he felt, knowing they had today and tomorrow and a million other tomorrows after together! - but he knew what she meant. The noise and the presence of others may be a bit much, but just being around her was a balm to his senses, the sound of her voice soothing, the feel of her hand in his right, clicking into place as if he had been made to be at her side.

She was his home, and it still astounded him (and most likely would forever astound him) that she regarded him as hers.

Adam nodded, his mouth curving into a smile that matched the one Astrid gave him. “Always.”

#my writing #pairing: stoic and stubborn #astrid sinclair #adam du mortain #this is so ROUGH but I had the idea and the time/energy to write and HAD to get it out before I lost my opportunity #totally unedited but what the hell I’m sharing anyway

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needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas · 3 years

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sooga sitting between kohga legs while hes on his throne, with his cock on sooga mouth not letting him touch his master OR himself

You are SO big brained, salsa. I love your ideas, I love your art, you are a blessing to this fucking blog, send any fucking requests your ass wants.

The Yiga clan loved to gather information. Having said that, it also made them quite notorious for spreading MIS information. As in, you’d constantly catch the members spreading rumors with one another. Only true and honest facts were given to Kohga himself, but amongst each other, their imagination went wild. Not that Kohga didn’t hear every single one. He may seem lazy to some, but Kohga was ever listening, and this new rumor REALLY got under his skin. The rumor that Sooga and him were together, and that Sooga was top. He didn’t mind everyone shipping them in the slightest, but the idea of HIM being in charge? He was so insulted, so OFFENDED. He just had to prove them wrong. Kohga got himself comfy in his favorite seat, sighing in content.

“Alright, I need my appreciation time, and Sooga here, now.”

Kohga hated the idea of royalty, but damn did he enjoy being treated like a royal. Blademasters, foot soldiers, AND Sooga appeared before him, as if by magic. The foot soldiers brought him his usual treats; bananas, freshly shaved ice with all types of nice syrups, and even sauteed nuts. Lovely spread, honestly. Kohga looked through his options, and motioned towards the plate of nuts. He helped himself to a small handful, and as he nibbled his treats, he motioned to Sooga.

“So, have you heard the new rumors?”

“Please specify, my lord. The foot soldiers do enjoy muttering amongst themselves.”

Kohga wiped the crumbs off his stomach (with the soldiers looking enviously as he did so. Some of these guys were just absolute perverts), and shook his head.

“Nope. The rumor that YOU’RE the one fucking ME.”

The members next to them tried not to giggle, clearly finding it funny. But not Sooga. Sooga cleared his throat, making the soldiers silence themselves. He gave a light bow of his head.

“I apologize that such a rumor dishonors you, Master Kohga. I could trace where these lyng roots lie, and punish them accordingly.”

“No need, Sooga. I found them already.”

Sooga (as well as the other members) cocked their heads, clearly curious. Kohga helped himself to a bite of shaved ice, before wiping his mouth (where it would have been anyway) with the back of his hand. He sighed as he locked eyes with Sooga.

“Don’t play dumb, Sooga.”

“I...beg your pardon?”

“YOU started it!”

Kohga stood up, and pointed a finger in accusation at him. Sooga gave a shake of his head.

“Master Kohga, I would do no such thing! I would only speak honest truths in your ho-”

Kohga held his hand up, silencing him. He gestured for Sooga to get down, and he obeyed, getting on one knee, and putting his head down. The proper form of a Yiga apology. Kohga sat back down on his chair, trying to act upset. The rumor being spread around was the fact part, but he knew Sooga wouldn’t ever start something like that. He was too noble, too focused on the cause to busy himself with rumors. But this made things so much more fun.

“I CAN’T believe you, Sooga. I expected more from you. I don’t mind the idea of you saying we fuck, because we do, and I’m not ashamed to admit that. But the idea of you saying that YOU’RE in charge of me? That’s just insulting.”

Of course Sooga wouldn’t say anything in his own defense. One, Kohga was stubborn, and two, Sooga would never talk his way out of a punishment. Kohga opened his legs wide open, and snapped his fingers. He was fed a piece of a banana, and as he chewed, he pretended to be deep in thought. Sooga lightly cleared his throat.

“I beg for your forgiveness, but I will accept your fury.”

He knew he’d say something like that. Such a good, good boy, his Sooga. Sooga grumbled, before patting his knee. Sooga crawled forward, stopping right in front of Kohga’s lap.

“Good. Because you ARE going to get punished, Sooga. Give me your mouth.”

There was a mumble of confusion amongst the members, but Sooga knew exactly what he meant. Sooga adjusted his face mask, showing just the mouth part of his face. Everyone gave a light gasp, as if Kohga had stripped down completely naked right in front of them. It was considered shameful to show ANY part of your face, and even showing a piece of your chin was like your pants falling down. Kohga held onto his chin, lightly brushing his thumb against his bottom lip. He had seen his face, but he had NEVER touched it. Aside from a little scar on his lip, Sooga’s features were very soft, very pleasant to touch.

“You understand, I’m not punishing you for funsies. You’re my right hand, so you need to be a step above everyone. You messing up is NOT accepted here, at all.”

“I understand fully, my Master.”

Even watching his lips move was hot. Even watching his tongue help him form words did something to Kohga. He had a good, sharp chin to boot, and Kohga couldn’t help but feel at the little spot of hair growing at his chin. Sooga was a VERY handsome man, almost as good looking as yours truly. Almost. Kohga reached down, and un did a part of his uniform, pulling his cock out. To say he had everyone’s eyes was NO exaggeration. Even members that were just passing by doing their daily duties moved just a bit slower to get a good look. Kohga’s cock was different from Sooga’s; shorter, but VERY thick. It didn’t have as much of a curve to it as Sooga’s either, but he DID share the bunch of black pubic hair (though his was more plentiful, as well as more curly). Either way, he could tell everyone was drooling behind their masks, just wishing they could get a taste. Kohga made Sooga look up at him.

“Now, you’re going to put me in your mouth. You aren’t going to suck, and I’m not gonna skull fuck you. You’re just gonna sit there, mouth full of cock, and not move. Understand?”

“I-I mean I would- I’m not, that is to say-”

Kohga liked watching this usually confident man be brought so low. Kohga rolled his eyes, and pushed his head forward, groaning in satisfaction as he stuffed himself fully into that mouth. Kohga gave himself a minute to get used to the feeling, before relaxing in his seat.

“There we go. Now, who here thinks Sooga is in charge?”

Everyone shook their heads no. Good. Kohga snapped his fingers, and another banana was fed to him. This was the life.

“Master Kohga?”

One of the Blade masters chimed in. Aka, the ones that just LOVED kissing his ass. Kohga chuckled, loving the idea of another big, strong man being overly flirty with him. Kohga held the Blade Master’s chin in his hand, watching him nearly melt.

“Yes?”

“I just...wanted to say, I’m sorry on Sooga’s behalf. You deserve far better than someone so close to you starting such a rumor.”

“Sooga HAS been bad hasn’t he? And here he is, still trying.”

Kohga felt him try to move. He was trying to actually suck him off. While it was cute, it wasn’t what he asked for. And even worse, he DARED to rub at himself. Kohga lightly patted the Blade master’s cheek.

“Do me a favor, help me out with his hands.”

He nodded, seeming to understand perfectly well what he wanted. Grabbing some rope, he practically yanked Sooga’s hands behind his back, and tied them together firmly. Kohga gave Sooga’s cheek a bit of a firm pat, chuckling to himself.

“I wasn’t gonna do that, but you were touching yourself. This wasn’t supposed to be fun. This is punishment, Sooga. You sit there, and you do nothing. Look at me with that mouth full of cock, and tell me you understand.”

That's what he loved about Sooga. He can understand him just by looking right at his face. One of the foot soldiers took another careful step forward, offering him more snacks. Kohga happily let himself be fed and treated, and when you paired that with the endless praises and glances he was getting from many of the clan members, he could tell it was getting to Sooga. His breath was getting hotter, his look was getting hazy, and he kept groaning against his cock. And did Kohga make it worse? Absolutely. In between the constant praises he was getting from his soldiers, Kohga kept petting his head, and making quite a public display with his compliments.

“Who’s a pretty boy?”, “Who’s a good boy?”, and Sooga’s favorite, “Who’s MY boy?”

Each question, each stroke of his head made Sooga tremble something fierce. It felt incredible, but it was killing him. He was being treated like he was owned by Kohga, right in front of everyone. Mouth visible, hands tied, he should be ashamed. But he was honored. Master Kohga chose HIS mouth to have his cock in, HIS head to pet and fond over. One of the foot soldiers (who had previosly been giggling and feeding Kohga his favorite fruit) looked underneath Sooga, and lightly whistled.

“Master Kohga, he’s leaking all over the floor.”

Kohga seemed to find that amusing, lightly smacking his cheek. Even THAT made him throb.

“Sooga, you wanna cum don’t you?”

Sooga nodded, careful not to move too much, less he invoke more of his fury. Kohga ran his fingers across his scalp, and he could tell Sooga got quite the goosebumps.

“Well, you’re not going to. No one is gonna cum today, because no one earned it. I won’t even cum in your throat, and I know you want that.”

Kohga didn’t know how long he sat there. He just knew that Sooga waited patiently, being his own little cock warmer, while he was being fed and loved. Combine that with the shame Sooga was made to bear, was it any wonder his mind lost itself to lust? Kohga eventually decided that he had enough, and slowly pulled Sooga off of his dick. Sooga’s tongue hung out of his mouth like a mutt, and slobber stained not only his lap, but Sooga’s uniform. Kohga watched the hot breath make bouts of steam in the cold night air, and damn was that something tasty. Kohga leaned down a bit to Sooga, not caring how much everyone was staring at his own half hard cock.

“I want you to remember something. I want you to remember how I taste, and I want you to remember I’M in charge of you.”

Sooga gave a faint, almost tired nod. Sooga was a big, hunky slut, and Kohga adored that about him. Kohga leaned back, and gestured to himself.

“Tuck me away, Sooga.”

Sooga was clearly in mourning, but he obeyed, fingers lightly fumbling. Kohga chuckled, giving a light shake of his head.

“You’ve done okay. But we can do better. You’re going to stand there, and let everyone see how hard you get for me. Understand?”

“C-completely, my M-master.”

“Oh, and Sooga, one more thing, before I take my nap.”

Kohga’s hand clamped around his throat, giving it a nice, firm squeeze, just where he knew he liked it. And he lowered his voice, making sure Sooga didn’t miss a single beat.

“I love you, Sooga.”

He knew from the way his body quivered, knew the way he swore, that he just came. Kohga chuckled, letting him go, before turning to his side, and falling asleep to the tune of everyone muttering absolute adoration for him.

Sooga was REALLY a good boy.

#asks #lemon #kohga #sooga

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goldenhemmings · 4 years

Text

In Your Atmosphere

Shawn Mendes x reader | 9,005 words

Whew. Hi guys. It’s been a while, I know, but actually having freetime again has made me realize just how much I miss writing. This piece is sort of a rollercoaster and I didn’t really edit it or anything, so please excuse any errors or if it just sucks in general. It’s based on In Your Atmosphere by John Mayer, and I’m pretty sure it’s also the first and only thing I’ve written that isn’t an AU. I hope you enjoy it, and I always love hearing what you guys think!!

There was a reason why the majority of Shawn’s songwriting and recording happened in Los Angeles. The city had always possessed a certain spark that inspired him, and the only way he knew how to describe the feeling it gave him was through the music that he wrote there. Its atmosphere was incomparable to that of any other city in the world, even his hometown. Toronto would always be special to Shawn, but Los Angeles was a different kind of special. It was magic.

It was no surprise, then, to find Shawn once again back in L.A. making music even though it had only been a few months since he’d released an entire album. He had a love affair with the city, and he just couldn’t seem to stay away from the beckoning of the lights, the sunsets, the ocean. To him it was all music waiting to be created, and he wouldn’t dare deny himself the opportunity.

Since his first visit, he’d always described the city as being full of magic; so full to the point where he didn’t think it possible to get any better. That, however, was before Y/N walked--well, tripped--into his life; once she happened, L.A. came to mean something else to Shawn entirely. Something more.

He remembered it clearly, the first time he met her. Cliché as it was, he wouldn’t change a thing about it. He was sitting on the beach, facing the ocean as he hummed melodies in his head and scribbled lyric after potential lyric into the leather-bound notebook that rested on his outstretched legs. She was walking through the sand, a tattered copy of The Catcher in the Rye clutched between her delicate fingertips as her eyes were glued to the yellowed pages. Neither person was aware of their surroundings, and it was inevitable, really, that she would trip and fall over his legs, belly-flopping into the sand as her book went flying.

Shawn was up immediately, his music disregarded as he offered a hand to help her back on her feet. “I’m so sorry,” he gushed, gently lifting her to sit up. He handed her book back to her. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she sighed, brushing the sand off of her faded t-shirt. “Don’t apologize. I’m the one who apparently never learned to watch where I’m going.”

He laughed lightly, and it was a sound she could get used to hearing. “Must be some book you’re reading.”

“The Catcher in the Rye,” she stated, smiling as she flashed him the cover. “It’s not exactly a typical beach-read, but it’s one of my favorites. I’ve probably read it, like, seven times by now.”

“Never heard of it,” he admitted, and her eyes blew wide. Shawn was immediately taken with her, physically evidenced by the fact that he couldn’t seem to wipe the stupid smile off of his mouth though he’d yet to even learn her name.

“Never?” she quipped, sitting down in the sand across from him as though she were preparing to recite the entire plot of the book.

He grinned, shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders. “I’m not a big book-reader, I guess.”

“Well what do you like, then?” she pressed, absentmindedly shaking the sand out from between the worn pages of her beloved novel. “If it’s not books?”

“Music,” he admitted, leaning back onto his hands as a wave reached shore. The tide had been steadily creeping closer to him as his hours spent on the beach increased. He’d figured that he’d have to move soon, but as this girl’s expectant eyes bore into his he found himself wishing that a wave would come swallow him whole and carry him out to sea. He almost couldn’t bear to be in the vicinity of the aura she was casting over him; she was overwhelming in a way he’d never known before.

“Everyone likes music, though,” she answered, studying his face carefully.

Shawn laughed, staring down at the sand underneath him. “True, but not everyone plays music for a living.”

“A musician,” she drawled, in a tone that made it hard for Shawn to tell if she was intrigued or mocking. He quite quickly learned it was the former.

He talked with her until well after the sun had disappeared behind the horizon, the impending darkness and creeping tide the only forces strong enough to tear him away from her. She’d recently graduated college and moved to L.A. upon receiving the internship of a lifetime, and though she’d only been living in the city for a year, she seemed to be just as enraptured with it as Shawn was. He let her scribble her phone number on a page of his notebook after a promise to call her the next day, and the two went their separate ways as they tried to race home before the moon could reach its peak in the sky.

The thought of someone else's writing in his precious music journal would usually make Shawn’s skin crawl; his team was constantly teasing him about how protective he was over it. But Y/N, however, could have up and run off with the thing and he’d have been powerless to stop it. It wouldn’t have been the only piece of him she’d run off with that night, anyways.

Since that day, whether Shawn consciously recognized it or not, Los Angeles was no longer his city, with its entire atmosphere at his disposal. It was her atmosphere now. She was city lights and sunsets and the ocean and music all rolled into one; every bit of inspiration he’d ever needed. She was a million songs waiting to be written, all for him to discover and create.

Any time he went to L.A. after that, Y/N was the first thing on his mind. It was almost routine; his plane would land, he’d collect his things, and he’d race to her door. She’d greet him with the same brilliant smile and mind-numbing kiss as always, and they’d spend every waking second in each others’ presence. Even doing nothing at all meant everything to them; each was intoxicated by the other in the best, most addicting way.

It stayed like this for a while: effortless, constant. Shawn always made sure to clear time in his schedule at least once a month to go see her, and she was in Toronto any chance she got. But then a cloud began looming over the two of them, casting a fast-approaching shadow that would soon coat them in darkness: tour. A nearly nine month long tour, the weight of which pressed down on the couple more intensely with each passing day until, finally, Shawn couldn’t stand to live in a state of denial anymore. Tour was happening, which meant he would have to leave Y/N for longer than he ever had before.

It was a lazy Sunday morning lying in bed when he decided to bring up the subject for real--no more dancing around it. They needed to talk about it. Y/N had her head on his bare chest and one of her legs slotted between both of his, gently toying with the pendant that seemed to never leave its home around his neck. Shawn sighed, and Y/N immediately knew he had something to say.

“What’s up, love?”

Shawn shook his head, prepared to back out of the conversation and continue living in his state of blissful ignorance for a little while longer. “Nothing.”

But Y/N knew him better than that. She lifted her head and tilted her jaw back to look at him, immediately met with worried brown eyes staring up at the ceiling. “Hey,” she coaxed, reaching a gentle hand up to turn his face towards hers. “There’s something on your mind.”

Shawn laughed halfheartedly. “There’s always something on my mind.” Y/N was silent, beginning to gently trace light patterns on his chest as she awaited his inevitable continuation. “It’s just...tour.”

Y/N frowned. “What about it?”

He looked at her, hesitating, nervousness clear in his eyes. “Come with me.”

“On tour?” she queried with a small smile, convinced he was just beginning to make up some whimsical daydream for the two of them to live in until reality eventually hit.

His eyes searched her face for any sign of what she might be thinking. “Yes.”

She let out a breathy laugh. “You’re not serious.”

“I’m completely serious,” he defended, and when Y/N looked up at him, she knew he was.

“I can’t just up and leave my job,” she answered, but the look on Shawn’s face seemed to insist that she could. “I can’t,” she repeated, more firmly this time. But how was she supposed to adequately explain that to someone whose job was quite literally packing up and leaving a million times over?

“But you’re my inspiration,” he whined, teasingly, and she smiled softly as she reached up to lightly scratch her fingers along his scalp. “I need you there.”

“Everything inspires you, Shawn. You’ll be fine.”

“I don’t want to leave you,” he admitted quietly, the true vulnerability he’d been feeling about the situation finally coming to the surface. Y/N sighed, burying her head into the warmth of his neck.

“We’ve made the distance work so far,” she reassured, but she was mostly trying to convince herself. “It’ll be okay. I’ll come see you when you play here.”

He groaned. “But that’s so far from the start of tour.” He looked at her once again, melancholy brown eyes half-lidded. “Come with me,” he repeated once more, but it was a weak plea; he knew the answer was no.

“I want to,” she breathed out, and Shawn’s grip on her tightened like he was worried she’d be stolen away from him right in that moment. “But I can’t. It isn’t practical for me.”

“I know,” he sighed, reluctance evident even in the way the breath left his chest. “I just wish you could.”

“Stop doing that,” she responded sternly. “It’s not fair to me. You know I’d go with you in a heartbeat if the circumstances were right.”

He let out a heavy exhale. “I know,” he repeated. “‘M sorry.”

“You love touring,” she continued. “The time will fly and it’ll be over before you know it.”

“And the second it is, I’ll get on a plane to LAX and race to your door like I always do. You just have to promise me you’ll be here.”

“I’ll always be here,” she affirmed, her voice not above a whisper. “It’s up to you to come back.” And in that moment, she was certain that he would.

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

The day of the first show, Y/N was physically unable to focus on anything other than Shawn. Her rockstar boyfriend was about to play to thousands of screaming people in a city so far away from her that it made her heart ache, and as much as she wanted to hear his voice, she knew he was too busy to spare the time to talk to her. So she didn’t call, because she knew he’d answer regardless of whether or not he had time, and she waited with painful anticipation to hear from him later that afternoon.

When her phone finally lit up with a FaceTime call just after 1 p.m. (around 11 at night in Amsterdam, she’d memorized the time difference), Y/N surged to pick it up with cat-like reflexes.

“Hey,” she beamed, taking in the way Shawn’s cheeks were still red from the high of his performance. “How was the show?”

He stared back at her with a goofy, love-drunk smile on his face. “Amazing. Best way to start the tour.” At this she smiled, but Shawn’s lingering pause caused her upturned lips to waver. “Would be even better if you were here.”

Y/N’s sighed. “You’re still the Shawn Mendes people are dying to see whether I’m there or not. You’ll be okay.”

“I know,” he mumbled. “Still want you here, though.”

“I want to be there, too,” she admitted. “But--”

“But you can’t be, I know,” he interjected. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”

Desperate to change the subject, Y/N went fumbling for something lighter to bring up. “So where do you play tomorrow?” she asked, even though she already knew the answer.

“Another night in Amsterdam, then Belgium in a few days.”

She smiled. She’d never even been out of the United States until she went to visit Shawn in Toronto, and here he was getting to experience all of Europe in the most amazing way. “That sounds incredible,” she answered, and she meant it. Her eyes lit up at the thought of getting to hear about all of Shawn’s adventures around the world.

“I miss you like crazy, Y/N.”

“You’d better toughen up,” she teased, ignoring the way his words made her heart twist. “You haven’t even been gone a week.”

“So?” he laughed. “I already can’t wait for the L.A. show.”

“I’ll be here,” she smiled. “It’s on you to come back to me.”

“I’ll always come back to you, sweetheart.”

And Y/N believed him, as she always did. But as Shawn got further into his tour and time began to pass, her certainty started to fade. At first, things were fine. They spoke every single night without fail, and usually more during the day. He’d share stories and make her guess what he’d bought her that day, promising to bring back a souvenir from every city he stopped in despite her insistence that she didn’t want him to bring her anything except himself and stories of the things he’d done and seen.

But as days faded into weeks and weeks into months, Y/N and Shawn’s consistency began to fade as well. With increasing frequency, she saw videos on his friends’ social media accounts of him out partying in seemingly every major city in the world. It wasn’t that she was opposed to him having fun, but nights that he had sworn to call were now being spent having drunken adventures without her while she sat at home finding any excuse to absolve him from all of his broken promises. But it only got harder, because he eventually stopped making time to call her altogether. The perspective Y/N lacked, however, was that the less Shawn heard her voice, the easier it was for him to be apart from her.

It was stupid, he knew. But it was a temporary fix, and it worked for him.

But Y/N didn’t want easy; she never had. She didn’t want someone who would avoid the challenge when it came to distance. She wanted Shawn to fight for her, and after all they’d been through together, she didn’t think that was too much to ask. Shawn’s lack of communication led Y/N to an immense confusion and worry as to why he was suddenly being so distant. It didn’t make sense. Does he not miss me?

The one thing Y/N had to look forward to through all of the tumult was Shawn’s fast-approaching tour stop in Los Angeles; when she would finally get to see her rockstar after months of being apart. She bought a new outfit specifically for the concert and had her best friend come to do her hair on the night of the show, not caring that she was acting like an over-excited teenager getting ready for prom. Her mind was clouded with thoughts of Shawn and all of the memories they had made under countless cotton-candy L.A. sunsets, ready to begin adding to the collection in only a few hours. Y/N thanked her friend for the help and hugged her goodbye before ducking into her small car, ready to begin the drive to the venue. Before pulling out of the driveway she fired off a quick text to Shawn: Leaving home now. I can’t wait to see you.

As she drove she had to constantly remind herself to slow down, that there was no need to race to the arena; Shawn wasn’t going anywhere. But as much as Y/N was excited, she was equally as nervous. She hadn’t really had a solid conversation with Shawn in weeks, and even then he had seemed detached and preoccupied. She pushed the thoughts from her head as the miles went by. Relax. Everything will be fine.

She eventually pulled into the closest parking lot she could find, and she rolled her car into a spot and made her way up to the arena, shooting Shawn a quick, excited text. I’m here!! See you soon. She quickly found the side door of the venue, met with a burly security guard. She smiled, but the guard didn’t seem to warm up to her. “Main entrances are around the front.”

“Oh, I...This is actually the door I’m looking for. Shawn or someone from his team should have given you my name, I think.”

He raised his eyebrows at her, and Y/N couldn’t tell whether he was amused or frustrated. “Yeah, I’m sure he did, sweetheart. You can’t get in this way.”

Y/N stumbled over her words a bit, taken aback by the trouble she was being given. “I-I’m serious. I’m his girlfriend, I have pictures I can show you.” She flashed her lockscreen at him, a photo clearly depicting Shawn and Y/N lighting up the display. “Don’t you have a boss, or something?” she pleaded. “A person you can call that can get ahold of someone from Shawn’s team? I promise they’ll recognize me. I don’t mean to inconvenience you, and I’m sorry for being pushy, it’s just that I’m really looking forward to this and they’re expecting me and I don’t have another way into the arena.” She knew she was rambling, as she often did when she could sense that something was wrong, and she was powerless to stop the slight shake in her hands as she waited for the security guard to respond.

The guard sighed, and Y/N felt her heart drop as she realized the answer would still be no. “Look, kid. As convincing as that all is, and as much as I personally would like to open this door for you, I can’t. I have a job to do. I wasn’t given your name, which means I can’t let you in unless someone comes to get you. I’m sorry.”

Heartbroken, she backed away, fighting the weight that came with knowing that Shawn had forgotten about her, had forgotten to tell security she was coming. Had he really not remembered? She shook the thoughts out of her head, convincing herself that maybe he’d just gotten distracted. She reached for her phone to dial Shawn’s number, but her shoulders fell when the call went straight to voicemail. She tried Andrew this time, but again...nothing. After frantic calls to Cez, Josiah, Mike, anyone whose number was saved in Y/N’s phone, all went to voicemail, Y/N finally gave up. By now, it was surely too close to showtime for her to reach anyone.

With no ticket, no security clearance, and no way of reaching anyone inside the stadium, the only thing for Y/N to do was go home. She felt pathetic as she walked down the sidewalk in her new outfit, mascara-stained tears streaming down the face she’d spent hours putting makeup on. Hundreds of fans passed her as they walked in the opposite direction towards the venue, and with each smiling girl she saw, Y/N’s distress heightened. How could he forget about me?

As she ducked into her car she hoped with all the strength she had that her phone would ring before she got home. She’d accept the rushed apologies and speed back to the arena, caring about nothing except finally seeing Shawn. He’d smile so brightly upon seeing her again that it’d make her heart skip a beat, and she’d bounce along to the songs she loved so much from the side of the stage, counting down the seconds until she could hug him again. She wished for that; willed it to happen.

But she was sorely disappointed.

It wasn’t until nearly 11 p.m. that her phone finally rang, and despite her current state, Y/N’s heart still jumped upon seeing Shawn’s name lighting up the display. She lunged for it, taking a deep, steadying breath before tapping the button to answer the call. “Hey,” she mumbled, reaching up to wipe a stray tear from her cheek.

“Hey,” came Shawn’s breathy voice through the speaker. “Where are you?”

She scoffed, pressing a hand to the forehead that ached from crying. “I’m at home.”

A pause. She could easily visualize the furrow in his brow. “Why?”

“Because I couldn’t get into the venue.”

“What? What do you mean?”

She laughed, but she wasn’t amused. “You really don’t know?”

“I…”

“No one gave my name to security, Shawn,” she snapped. “I drove all the way there and I couldn’t get in, so I left.”

The other line was silent as Shawn realized his mistake. “I--Fuck. Oh my God, baby, I’m so sorry. I was so distracted, and the Q&A went over time, and--”

“I don’t want to hear it,” she cut in, surprising even herself. “The bottom line is that you forgot, and it took you this long to call me. Your show has been over for more than an hour.”

“Why didn’t you call someone else to let you in?” he demanded, accusation lacing his words.

“I did!” Y/N cried out, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks. “God, do you really think I didn’t try that?”

He sighed, and Y/N could picture his defeated expression in her head. “I don’t know what to say.”

“There’s nothing you can do to fix it now. I just--.” She sighed. It wasn’t worth it. “Nevermind.”

“You just what?”

“Nothing. You should go to sleep, you’re probably tired.”

“Y/N,” he pressed, and it was clear that he was frustrated.

“Okay, fine,” she burst, all of her frustration bubbling right back up to the surface. “I was going to say that I was so excited to see you tonight, but I don’t even know why.”

Shawn sucked in a breath. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Y/N tried to relax, knowing that she’d reached the point of no return; she was finally going to confront him. “I just can’t help but wonder if you ever actually cared that I was coming. I’ve hardly heard from you in months, but I still got all dressed up and was so happy I couldn’t breathe just to see someone who won’t even talk to me. I’m done making excuses to justify why you never call anymore.” She laughed dryly, realizing how pathetic that sounded; he wouldn’t even speak to her to make the excuses for himself. “You act like I don’t even exist half the time. I don’t know why I thought tonight would be different.”

There was some shuffling from the other end of the phone, and Y/N heard a voice--probably Brian’s--asking Shawn where he was going. A few more seconds passed and suddenly the background noise was gone. “Look, I’m with the whole team right now. Can we please talk about this later?”

Y/N’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious right now, Shawn? I’m sick of being avoided. I deserve to know what’s going on.”

“I’ll call you later, alright?”

“No, you won’t,” she burst, sadness quickly dissolving into anger. “If you hang up the phone right now you will never talk to me again.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N.”

“Don’t even try to make me feel like it’s ridiculous that all I want is an explanation.”

She could hear him exhale into the receiver, and her heart pounded with anticipation as she waited for him to finally speak. “I’m sorry. It’s just hard.”

“What’s hard?”

“Finding time for this, I don’t know. It sucks being away from you. Hearing your voice--I just can’t do it.”

While she appreciated that Shawn was finally beginning to open up to her, Y/N didn’t fully buy what he was saying. “It wasn’t too hard when you first left,” she rebutted. “You didn’t seem to find it hard when you were forcing yourself to stay awake at night just because you wanted to talk to me.”

“It’s not that easy, alright? You don’t know what it’s like. You aren’t here.”

A bitter laugh escaped her lips. “Wow.”

“What?” Shawn asked, but it was flat.

“I just hope you’re not insinuating what I think you are.” She was not about to put up with him spitting her absence back in her face as though her staying behind was unreasonable.

“It’s just that—” he stumbled, trying to keep his frustration in check. “I tried countless times to get you to come with me. You know you could’ve.”

“So now the way you’ve been treating me is my own fault?”

“No, it’s just that if you were here--”

“Well I’m not, Shawn, and you need to get over it. You aren’t the only important thing in my life. I wasn’t about to give up my job—the job that I love—to have some nine-month, fairy tale vacation across the world. Don’t you dare put this on me.”

“I’m not trying to--” His voice stopped as someone talking to him became clear through the line. He was quickly back on the receiver, but it wasn’t to pick up where he left off. “I have to go.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“I have to.”

“Shawn.”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“I’m not doing this with you. If you hang up right now, this is over.”

There was a pause long enough to give Y/N the slightest bit of hope, but as quickly as it had come, it was shattered. “I’m sorry,” Shawn said. Then the line went dead.

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

March. It had been three months since the end of Shawn’s tour, and nearly six since things had ended with Y/N. Not a day went by in those six months, though, that he hadn’t fallen asleep thinking of her and woken up wishing she were there. It was excruciating, and worsened in knowing that it was entirely his fault.

Shawn was nursing a small glass of whiskey and staring blankly into a television screen when he felt his phone buzz from the arm of the couch beside him. He figured it was just Brian wondering where he’d been; he hadn’t been in the mood to go out with his friends even though he was home in Toronto, and he knew they were wondering about him. He set his cup on the coffee table and reached for the device, sighing when he instead saw a message from Andrew.

I need you to verify that you’re good with the dates for LA so that I can confirm our jet.

While tour had only been over for three months, it was time for Shawn, unwaveringly hardworking as he was, to get back to the studio and begin working on new music. But, for once in his life, Shawn wanted nothing less than to go to L.A. and pretend like it hadn’t been six months since he’d last spoken to Y/N. The text from his manager sent a sinking feeling reverberating through his chest, and he was instantly averse to the idea of following through with the plans he’d made months before.

He immediately dialed Andrew’s number, who answered after the first ring. “Shawn?”

“I don’t think I want to go to L.A. anymore,” he blurted, and he could envision the way his poor manager’s eyes had probably gone wide in confusion.

“What are you talking about?”

“I just don’t,” he said flatly, staring blankly at the wall in front of him.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he lied, but his manager knew better.

“You love Los Angeles. I know you do.”

“I don’t,” he mumbled.

“Be honest with me, man. What’s wrong?”

Shawn groaned, tugging tired hands through tufts of unruly brown hair. “I don’t know what it’s like to land at the airport and not go right to her. I can’t be in the same city as her. I’d die if I saw her.”

“Y/N, you mean,” Andrew mused, but of course he knew that was exactly who Shawn was talking about. “So don’t see her.”

“But I’d die if I didn’t see her, either,” Shawn admitted. “Especially knowing I was only a car ride away. So I just don’t want to go.”

His manager sighed. “We already booked the house, Shawn. The whole team is coming.”

“So tell them not to.”

Andrew laughed lightly at this, and as much as Shawn was frustrated by it, it also grounded him in the realization that he was being a bit ridiculous. “The way you feel right now will make for some incredible music, Shawn. I know you, and I know that you'll kick yourself for not taking advantage of that.”

“The last thing I want to do right now is write music.”

“How many times have you said you can’t wait to have your heart broken so that you can write an album about it?”

“I didn’t know it would feel like this.”

“Use that.”

“I can’t. It fuckin’ hurts.”

“Then go see her.”

Shawn paused to ponder whether or not he’d heard Andrew correctly. “I already told you, I can’t do that.”

“I’m serious,” Andrew replied, his tone still as even as it always was. “I think you clearly need to have a conversation with her. You haven’t seen each other in person since you left for tour.”

“She won’t want to see me,” Shawn mumbled.

Andrew let out a heavy breath. “You’re right, she probably won’t. But I think that for both of your sakes, you need to talk face-to-face. You need closure, and I’m sure she does too.”

“God, I’m such an idiot,” Shawn mumbled, and Andrew did well not to comment on it.

“Just relax. You’re going to Los Angeles and we will all be there with you to support you like always. Whether or not you see Y/N is up to you, but I think you need to go.”

Shawn let out a heavy breath, but it didn’t relieve the tension in his shoulders. “Fine,” he groaned. “I’ll go.”

“The original dates still work for you? Two weeks from now?”

“Yeah,” Shawn assented, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. “I’ll see you there.”

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

The first thing Shawn did after dropping his bags off at the house his team would be staying at in Los Angeles was take the keys to one of the rental cars and drive straight to Y/N’s house.

He had a box filled with souvenirs he’d bought for her at various tour cities tucked into the passenger seat--a box that he’d been dying to give to her. It drove him crazy to see it lying around his condo, and he jumped at the opportunity to finally hand it off to her.

As he drove, every bone in his body screamed at him to stop. Even the world around him seemed to be mocking him. The sunset laughed at his foolishness for thinking that his relationship was different from the thousands of others it had seen come to an end under its golden touch. The streetlights, beginning to flicker on as the sun set further, told him to never mind, forget her. Even the mountains ridiculed him, their deep-set lines seeming to smirk back at him as they awaited a surely inevitable disaster.

He stared at his hands, clenched at ten and two on the steering wheel. It made him feel lonelier, if possible, knowing the hand that usually rested in Y/N’s as he drove was now forced to join its companion on the wheel. Her voice wasn’t coming from beside him directing him where to go because, no matter how many times he swore he knew his way around the city, he was lost without her guidance. He felt empty being in her city without her. It was wrong.

He finally managed to find his way to her quaint house, parking on the street parallel to it. He immediately felt his heart jump into his throat upon realizing that he actually had no plan for what to say or do. He was worried she didn’t love him anymore the way he still loved her, even though she had every reason not to. But he didn’t care; he still needed to see her. If it meant that he could hear her voice, he’d let her tell him every day that she didn’t love him. He craved her that badly.

Shawn hesitated as he raised his knuckles to the front door, eyeing the broken doorbell and wondering if she’d gotten it fixed in the time he was gone. He finally decided to just knock as he’d always done, and it wasn’t long before the familiar beige door was opening in front of him. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of her after nine excruciating months. Her hair was longer and she was clad in one of the shirts he’d left behind for her, but he couldn’t ignore how tired she looked.

Y/N’s face fell the second she saw him, and her immediate instinct was to slam the door in his face. But her mind and her body were at a disconnect--her thoughts racing, but her limbs frozen. She didn’t know what to do, so she just stood there, wide-eyed, staring back at him.

“Nice shirt,” was the first thing he could say, and Y/N looked down at herself like she’d forgotten what she was wearing.

“Sorry, I, um, I need to do laundry really badly,” she answered sheepishly, folding her arms over her chest and knowing that it was a blatant lie. She was surprised she remembered how to talk. “You can have it back.”

He cleared his throat, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Don’t apologize. Looks right on you. You look beautiful.”

Y/N’s expression remained stiff and cold. “I didn’t apologize.”

“Yes, you did,” he pushed back, a semblance of a smile playing on his mouth.

Y/N leaned against the doorframe, eyeing the box under his arm and already feeling drained of energy. “What did you come here for, Shawn?”

“I, uh--” he stammered, searching for words that wouldn’t sound as childish as he felt right then. Hearing her say his name didn’t feel as right as it always had. “I wanted to give you this.” He thrust the box out at her, but she didn’t take it.

“What is it?”

“I got you something from all the cities we stopped at on tour up until, uh, you know,” he trailed off, reaching a hand up to scrub sheepishly at the back of his neck. “I don’t really have any use for this stuff and I was in town so I figured I should just give it all to you.”

She skeptically took the box, reaching inside and gingerly pulling out a small metal cactus that sprouted from a base that read Arizona, the Grand Canyon State. She sighed and dropped it back inside the box, turning behind her to set it on the floor of her entryway.

“There’s no way that you came all the way here just to give me this stuff. What is it really?”

Shawn let out a huff of breath, running a hand down his face. She knew him so well that it drove him crazy. “I don’t know,” he answered, and it was the truth. “Just missed you, I guess.”

“Bullshit,” she scoffed, looking to the side so as to avoid eye contact. She never swore, and it tugged at a separate piece of Shawn’s heart knowing that he was the one to make her.

“I did,” he pressed, floored at the accusation that he hadn’t when, in reality, he’d missed her so intensely that even his bones ached.

“You cut me off and then gave me six months of radio silence,” she bit back, her words accusatory. “So I don’t believe you.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut as he concentrated on finding any words that could possibly make this better. He finally looked up, coming to terms with the fact that the damage he’d inflicted was certainly irrevocable. “I messed up, okay? And there will never be enough words to tell you how sorry I am.”

“It doesn’t matter. There’s nothing you could say to make me forgive you, anyway.”

He swallowed, hard. He had no plan for what to say to her, and the longer she stared at him the more his body felt like it was on fire. “Will you at least let me apologize? Even if you don’t forgive me.”

Y/N was quiet, her incriminating stare unwavering. “Fine,” she reluctantly assented, not missing the way Shawn let out a heavy breath of relief.

“Can I come in?”

“No. You can apologize just the same out here.”

“It’s just that--,” he paused, sighing. “Okay.” He’d wanted to remind Y/N that she’d probably start yelling at him at some point, because he knew her and he knew how she was sometimes unable to fight back her emotions, but he refrained. He was lucky she hadn’t slammed the door in his face by now.

He took a deep breath, and Y/N tapped her foot in impatience. On the inside, however, her heart had begun to beat just a tiny bit faster. She wasn’t happy to see Shawn, but, much to her dismay, she wasn’t exactly mad about it either. She was mad at him, that much was clear, but he was still Shawn. Seeing him here, in front of her, made her realize that her feelings weren’t as far-gone as she’d convinced herself they were.

A nervous laugh slipped from his mouth. “I wasn’t expecting you to let me get this far, I don’t really have much of a plan.” But Y/N was silent, and Shawn cleared his throat. “I’m, uh, I’m sorry I ghosted you. I’m sorry I forgot to get you into the stadium when we planned for you to come. And I’m sorry that I wasn’t stronger, just in general.”

“Me too.”

He took a deep breath. She wasn’t going to make this easy for him. “It just...it got to a point where I couldn’t stand to listen to you say you missed me anymore. I know my lifestyle isn’t necessarily conducive to a good relationship and it was just hard knowing what I was putting you through. Hearing your voice was hard for me, too. I thought distancing myself from you would make it easier to cope with being away from you, I never--,” he broke off, running an anguished hand through his hair. “I never wanted this to happen to us. I just needed space. There were times when I was completely ready to just up and fly to L.A. not caring what the consequences would be, and that terrified me. I wasn’t focusing on my shows because all I could think about was you.”

She frowned, her face clearly expressing disbelief. “You were willing to abandon your tour to get on a plane to come see me, but then you didn’t have it in you to talk to me on the phone? On nights you knew I was waiting up for you to call?” She shook her head, and Shawn wished he could unsee the tears brimming in her eyes. “How am I supposed to believe that?”

“I know that it probably doesn’t make sense,” he admitted. He clenched his hands together as he physically fought the urge to reach over and wipe the tears from her cheeks. “I wasn’t strong enough to be away from you, so I did everything I could to get rid of the thought of missing you. Worse, of you sitting here missing me.”

“If you loved me as much as you said you did, you shouldn’t have been able to just ignore me like that. I went crazy trying to convince myself that there was a time where I even mattered to you at all.”

“You do matter to me!” Shawn insisted, his words jumping in volume until he remembered he was still standing outside on the porch. “You always have. You’re everything.”

“Then why didn’t you act like it?” she demanded, pretending like her voice hadn’t just broken. “I just--None of this makes any sense to me! We’re here because you couldn’t even make it through the first half of your tour without abandoning all the promises you made to me before you left. You swore you would come back.”

“I did come back,” he replied, weakly. “I’m here now.”

“No,” she spat, pressing her wrists over her eyes as though it would hold in the tears. “You showing up at my door after all this time and blindsiding me like this is not the promise you made to me to come back. Do you have any idea what it feels like to spend months waiting for someone to come home to you, knowing deep inside yourself the entire time that he isn’t actually coming home? Do you have a single fucking clue what you put me through?” He was silent. “I stayed awake night after night for hours waiting for calls that weren’t coming. I started to actually feel guilty for not putting my life on hold to follow you around the world, which is fucking ridiculous, Shawn! I hate that you made me feel that way.”

“I do too,” he responded, tugging an agitated hand through curls that were already messy from his five-hour flight earlier that day. “And it’s clear that you’re not going to forgive me, and I don’t blame you for that. I just--I don’t know what to do. I have never loved someone the way I love you.”

“Neither have I,” she admitted meekly, pretending to be less affected by his words than she actually was. “But that doesn’t change what you did.”

“I know.”

They were silent for a few moments, Y/N’s eyes looking at the floor even though she could feel Shawn’s stare glued to her face. The quiet eventually came to be too much for Shawn to take, and he was the first to speak again. “So now what?”

Y/N finally looked up at him. “I don’t know. I guess you leave.”

“Leave?” he interrogated, taken aback.

She arched a brow. “What?”

“There’s just so much else to talk about.”

“I don’t have anything left to say to you,” she sassed, folding her arms over her chest.

“Tell me you actually want me to leave,” Shawn demanded. At this point, he was grasping for straws to keep her talking to him. Y/N blinked, her mouth falling open but no words coming out. “Tell me you want me to leave,” he repeated, “and I will.”

“I--”

“I know you want me to stay.”

“You have no idea what I want, you arrogant asshole.”

Shawn huffed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’ve said I’m sorry, okay? I want to start over.”

But Y/N wasn’t willing to give in. “Is that what you think?” she scoffed. “You come here uninvited and give me some spur-of-the-moment apology and then suddenly everything is normal again?” She stepped forward, so furious that steam may as well have been radiating off of her skin. “I am so sorry that you’re frustrated,” she continued, sarcasm practically stinging her lips as the words came out, “but I don’t care what you want, Shawn. You are not going to show up at my doorstep and start feeding me all this crap about how you missed me and how beautiful I am and how sorry you are!” She jabbed a finger into his chest, hot tears betraying her as they finally began to roll down her cheeks. “I waited for you. I knew you weren’t going to call, I knew you weren’t coming, and I still waited for you like an idiot.”

“Please don’t cry,” he whispered. It took everything in him to resist the urge to wipe her tears away, or hug her, or to touch her at all and offer any small form of comfort that he could.

“It’s a little late for that,” she bit back, wiping her cheeks with the heel of her left hand. “I’ve spent the past six months crying over you. You don’t get to make me all worked up like this and then tell me to stop crying like you’re not the reason why I’m like this in the first place.”

“Then we don’t have to talk about this right now, let’s find something else.” Y/N looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes, her mind equally as confused as her heart. “We can go get coffee, or--”

“I really don’t think--”

“Just trust me,” he said softly, finally finding the courage to gingerly place his hands on her shoulders. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I have coffee here,” Y/N answered after a silence long enough to make Shawn even more nervous, and he wasn’t sure what she meant until she moved aside to allow him room to come through the doorway.

She stepped over to the kitchen and reached for her Keurig, Shawn hot on her heels. “Let me do it,” he said, gently reaching to take the supplies from her hands.

“Fine,” she sighed. She didn’t have the energy left to fight him. “The mugs are in the same place as always.”

He nodded as Y/N made her way over to the couch, her brain screaming what are you doing at her as though it would weaken its disconnect from the rest of her body. Logic reminded Y/N that she didn’t owe Shawn her kindness, her time, or her forgiveness for what he had done to her. Logic told her Shawn shouldn’t be there. Her heart didn’t care.

“How’s your internship?” he asked with an outstretched arm, offering Y/N a coffee cup and effectively tearing her from her thoughts. She eyed him carefully as he moved to sit clear on the other side of the couch, an awkward distance between the two.

Y/N pretended to ignore the almost palpable awkwardness in the room. Am I really about to sit here and make small talk with him? “It ended a few months ago. The company gave me a full-time job, though.”

“That’s amazing,” he said, and he meant it. “How is it?”

There was a slight upturn in her lips. “I love it. It’s exactly what I wanted and my coworkers are all awesome.”

He smiled. “I’m happy for you, Y/N. Seriously.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled, taking a sip of her coffee and fighting off the voice in her head reminding her of how painfully uncomfortable this all was. “Um, how was the rest of tour?”

He shrugged, knowingly avoiding a rerun of the conversation they’d already had. “It was really great. I’m lucky.”

“Good,” she replied. It took everything she had to keep her voice level and dry of emotion. “I’m glad you had fun.”

“Are you, like, seeing anyone?” he blurted, no longer able to refrain from asking it.

She looked up, a smile nudging at her lips as she found herself suddenly amused. “Why do you ask that?”

“I dunno,” he responded sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders as he did so. “I’ve just, y’know, seen pictures and stuff.”

“So you’re stalking me on social media now?” she asked, but it didn’t sound like a question--more like an observation.

“No,” he rushed out, wide-eyed. “Not at all stalking you, no. Your photos just come up in my feed sometimes and I see...things.”

She hummed, deciding not to dwell on the motivation behind his question any longer. “If you really want to know, I’ve tried,” she admitted bitterly. “But no one that I meet really compares to you, so it’s sort of hard.”

“I get it.”

She looked at him, her expression perplexed but challenging. “You’re constantly surrounded by celebrities and girls from all over the world. It’s different for you.”

“So what? None of them compare to you, either. I thought about you all the time on tour. No one else.”

She quirked an eyebrow, silently prompting him to continue, which he did after a deep breath. “Being in a different time zone almost every night starts to make me feel like I’m kind of just floating. Having the routine of playing shows helps, don’t get me wrong, and I love touring. You know that. But the only thing that anchored me through all that was knowing what time it was in L.A. and imagining what you were doing.”

Y/N was silent, her lips slightly parted as she tried to digest his words, but the discomfort that came with the silence caused Shawn to begin rambling. “I didn’t really care what time it was where I was, because that changed constantly. It didn’t matter. I only cared what time it was in relation to where you were because it was steadying, or something, I don’t know. Basically, no matter where I was or what I was doing, I always had you in the back of my mind.”

“Did you still do that even after we…?”

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation. “I mean...no matter what happens, I’ll always care about you and think about what you’re doing. We’ll always be tied to each other somehow.”

“I wish I could’ve gone with you,” Y/N blurted out suddenly, surprising even herself. They stared at each other, the wide-eyed expression plastered on Shawn’s face essentially a reflection of Y/N’s. “Things would be so different now if I could’ve gone.”

“Different how?” Shawn stammered, though he already knew the answer. He was just desperate to hear her next words.

“Don’t know,” she muttered, absentmindedly picking at a loose thread on one of the couch cushions. “Like it was before you left and all this happened.”

“It doesn’t mean we can’t get back to that point, though.”

“No, but it’s certainly gonna be a hell of a lot more difficult if I even…” She trailed off, and Shawn swallowed hard. If I even want this. “Nevermind. I just wish I could’ve gone on tour with you because then I wouldn’t have to be dealing with this right now.” It was a harsher-sounding reality than was the truth of her feelings, but she couldn’t take the words back. And, to be fair, Shawn deserved nothing but harsh words from her, though it wasn’t what she wanted to give him. The more time she spent with him, the harder it was for her to fight the feelings that she’d known were still very much there for the past six months.

“But then you wouldn’t have had your internship.”

“Yeah, I know, Shawn,” she snapped. “That’s why I didn’t go and that’s why we’re here. God forbid I choose my career.”

“That’s not what I--”

“I’m sorry,” she blurted. “I’m just--I don’t even know. That was unnecessary.”

“It’s okay,” Shawn answered, but only because he didn’t know what else to say. She was in no position to be apologizing to him, and he knew that. He deserved every harsh thing she had to say to him.

“Can I be honest with you?” he continued, suddenly more nervous than he had been the entire time. Y/N nodded.

“The real reason I came here is because I can’t lose you forever. Six months was hard enough. I just wanted to apologize and tell you how I feel. How I still feel.”

She scrubbed a hand over her forehead, her eyes squeezed shut as she tried to process the whirlwind of thoughts littering her brain. “You never lost me, Shawn,” she whispered, eyes still closed because she was too nervous to look at him. “Just distanced yourself.”

“And I’m sorry for that, truly,” he said quietly. “I wish I could take it all back.”

Y/N looked at him, trying to decipher her own feelings. “I’m glad you came,” she finally admitted. “I needed this. Even though I yelled at you, like, basically the entire time.”

He let out a quiet laugh, not taking his eyes off of her. “I deserved it,” he admitted. “I probably deserved worse, if anything.”

She grinned. She knew how she could be when her emotions took over. “How long are you here for?”

“We’ve got a house booked for a few weeks to work on new music, but my schedule’s free for a bit after that. No reason why I couldn’t stay here a little longer if, you know...”

“It depends,” she cut in. She wasn’t one to sugar coat things. “If these first few weeks go okay, then I’d like that. But it depends on that.”

Shawn nodded and became painfully aware of his heart suddenly pounding out of his chest, grateful to be given any chance at all to win Y/N back, though he’d be lying if he didn’t admit how anxious the thought of messing up again made him.

“Can we just take things one day at a time?” she continued, looking up at him with an almost nervous expression. “Is that okay? I’m gonna need a little more time than you, probably.”

He smiled. Anything she’d give him, he would gladly take. “Of course,” he echoed, moving next to her and carefully wrapping an arm around her shoulders. He swore he’d faint when he felt her head softly lean to rest on his shoulder. “One day at a time, sweetheart. Whatever you need.”

Thank you for reading!! Feedback is always appreciated :)

permanent taglist: @nedthegay @wronglanemendes @the-fandom-ness

#shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes one shot #shawn mendes #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes one shots #shawn mendes fanfictions #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes writing #fanfiction

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stilloutofmyvulcanmind · 4 years

Text

Broken Pieces

Request: Could you, um, do a small fluff piece with H.R... um, one where the reader has had a hard day and nearly broke down into tears. Oh... um also with hot chocolate and cozy comfort blanket snuggles?? Please?

Pairing: H.R Wells x Reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: Anxiety, crying

A/N: I changed the prompt a little, nonnie, so the reader did break down in tears. It fit better, so I hope that’s okay!

The crash of the mug cracking on the floor echoed through the kitchen, the sound deafening in the silence. You stared down at the broken pieces, fingers still flexing around the empty space where it should’ve been held. You’d just wanted to make a drink. You were exhausted and at your limit, and hot chocolate always made you feel better. You couldn’t even have that it seemed. The mug itself hadn’t been a special one, just the first clean one you’d laid hands on, but the sight of it shattered over the kitchen tiles was enough to make the last thread holding you together snap.

Tears started to roll down your cheeks, dripping off and splashing to the floor amongst the debris. Shoulders shaking, you stood there and sobbed.

"Y/N?" H.R's voice suddenly filled the room, followed by the sound of his boots on the tile, rushing over to you. "Are you hurt?" He sounded so worried. It only made you sob harder, the guilt creeping in over scaring him.

Unable to find words, you just shook your head.

"Okay, okay, good. Come here." H.R was gently guiding you away from the mess, pulling you back a few steps before engulfing you in his arms. You sank into the embrace, hands coming around to clutch at the soft grey sweater as you cried into his shoulder. "I've got you, baby bean, let it out."

H.R held you until your sobs had turned into quiet sniffles and there was a damp patch on his sweater. With gentle fingers under your chin, he tilted your head. "Will you tell me what caused this?" He asked, brushing away the tears that remained on your cheeks.

"I don't…I'm just…" You stumbled over your words, fighting to find the right ones to fully articulate what you wanted to say.

"It's okay," H.R soothed, thumb tracing over your cheekbone, "take your time."

You nodded, leaning into the touch. You took a breath. "There's so much going on recently and I haven't been sleeping, and today was just so long, it took forever to get everything done, and there's still so much more to do on Monday, I can't even begin to list it all. I'm...I'm tired and I'm stressed and…I guess dropping the mug just pushed me off the edge."

H.R listened and kissed your forehead once you were done. “Thank you.”

You couldn’t do much more than hum and melt into his gentleness. Just having H.R near you was already making you feel better, his steady hands and the smell of his cologne slowly easing the tension away.

Eventually, he pulled back, hands on your shoulders. “Will you do something for me?” He waited for your nod, before continuing, “Go and take a shower. A long, hot one, just how you like it.”

“But the mess-”

“I’ll take care of it.” H.R said, eyes soft. “And I want you to take care of yourself.”

“Okay.”

He beamed. “That’s my baby bean!” A quick kiss to the lips and H.R was shooing you off towards the bathroom.

The water was steaming hot by the time you stepped under it, groaning softly as it hit your stiff muscles, already working its magic. It was heaven. Leaning forward against the wall you let the water cascade down and over your back, enjoying the warmth of it until you mustered up the energy to finally wash away the day.

By the time you were done, though still exhausted, you did feel a world better. Wrapped in a fluffy towel, you stepped out into the bedroom to find a pair of your favorite pajamas laid out waiting for you. You spared a moment to wonder how you’d gotten so insanely lucky to get a boyfriend as kind and caring as H.R, before quickly drying off and changing into the soft cozy set, listening to H.R move about and hum softly to himself just outside.

The living room had been transformed, you found. Blankets and pillows and been spread out and piled up in front of the sofa, expertly laid out for maximum comfort. H.R stood just beyond, now changed out of his usual stylish clothes into a pair of grey sweatpants, and tee that had a giant cartoon graphic of a coffee cup splayed across the front. It had been one of the first gifts you’d gotten him, intended to just be something silly and fun. He wore it as often as possible.

H.R rounded the sofa with a smile. “Feel better?”

“Much, thank you. And thank you for all this, coffee bean.”

H.R chuckled, kissing your forehead, “I’m not done yet, come on.” Taking your hands, he guided back around the sofa, motioning for you to settle down in the nest while he produced the butter-soft red blanket you adored so much. “I’ll be back.” Before you could question it, H.R vanished into the kitchen, reappearing a couple of minutes later with a steaming mug and a tablet tucked under his arm.

It took some careful moving to get him situated without spilling the contents, but soon you were both cuddled under the red blanket, with you tucked into his side and sipping at the delicious hot chocolate, he somehow always made it better, and H.R pulling up a book on the tablet.

It was perfect. You loved H.R’s reading voice, it was calm and soothing, and he’d picked a good book to read. One that had been on your list of favorites since you were young. It still astounded you how he’d learned so many tiny details about you, how he always wanted to learn more. One time when you’d questioned why he was so devoted to knowing everything there was to know, he’d said you were his favorite book to read and he intended on memorizing every word by heart.

Even now, months later, the memory had the heat creeping across your cheeks and made you want to bury your face in his neck.

H.R kept reading, continuing long after the hot chocolate was finished and the mug set aside, and into the later hours of the night. The only thing that changed was now that your drink was done, you were able to settle in even closer, to the point where you were half on his lap. Head resting on his chest, H.R held the tablet in one hand while the other came up to run through your hair, nails gently scratching along your scalp just the way you loved with each pass-through, leaving you to all but melt into him.

Only when the book was done did H.R stop, switching off the tablet, and tossing it behind him onto the sofa. “How’re you doing?”

“Mmm.”

H.R laughed softly, still playing with your hair. “That good, huh?”

“Yeah. That was perfect.”

“We can do it again over the weekend if you wish.”

The idea sounded like heaven. You wanted nothing more than to have a lazy weekend with H.R. “I can’t. There’s so much to do, I have to work.”

H.R tilted your head up. “You need to rest.”

“I can’t, the work-”

“Will the world end if you make it all wait until next week?”

“No, but-” A finger pressed over your lips, gently silencing you.

“No ‘buts’. You’re not responsible for fixing everything that is broken in this world, nor do you have to try to make everyone happy. It’s time to replenish, baby bean, and I’m going to make sure you take time for you.”

As easy-going as H.R usually was, you knew this time he wouldn’t accept any argument short of there being a legitimate emergency. In truth, you were glad of it. “Okay.”

“Good.” H.R drew you in for a kiss, palms covering your cheekbones. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You wondered if he truly knew just how much. You could never imagine being with anyone else now, never having felt this way with anyone before. You never could’ve been so yourself, so at ease, so vulnerable. You would’ve never let anyone else see you that way, even if you did feel a little guilty about laying such a burden on him. “Thank you for tonight, but I’m sorry it was up to you to pick up my broken pieces.”

H.R shook his head, bopping you lightly on the tip of the nose. “There is nothing to apologize for. That you allow me the privilege of trusting me enough to pick them up and put you back together again is the greatest honor I could ever ask for."

You weren't entirely sure what to say to that. So instead you kissed him again, pouring all the love and adoration you felt for him into it, keeping his face only a few inches away from yours even when it broke again.

"There it is," H.R said.

"What is?"

"The smile I've been searching for." He traced the curve of your lips with his finger as he spoke.

You hadn't realized you were smiling, but you were. For the first time since you'd dragged yourself in, you were smiling. Because of H.R. The best man in the multiverse. "How can I not smile when I'm with you? I'm the luckiest person in the world."

"I could argue that was me," he chuckled. "Maybe we're equally as lucky."

"I'll agree to that." Another kiss, this one with just the right amount of passion in it to make your stomach flip. Not tonight, but- "If I did try and sneak off to work tomorrow, what would you do?"

The smirk told you he knew exactly what you were saying. "Then, my baby bean, I'd have to cuff you to the bed."

"Now see, that's the problem, coffee bean. Now I'm going to have to make an escape attempt."

H.R dragged a finger along your cheek, sending goosebumps down your spine. "In that case, I'll make sure I'm ready."

"I can hardly wait."

Like what you read? Consider buying me a coffee! (I’ll love you forever!)

#hr wells x reader #HR Wells #HR wells imagine #harrison wells x reader #The Flash

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ive-got-ships-to-draw · 4 years

Text

Legosi x Haru

All he could ever want

Legosi can't help but stare sometimes. It's a bad habit, especially with herbivores. It's safe to say he does this more often with Haru, his eyes are practically glued to her.

Today, as he's watching her talk about how her flowers have been doing, he notices her little sniffles between sentences. Two to three sniffs for each sentence. That's too much, isn't is? Is it allergies? Is she coming down with something? Is it rude to ask someone why they're sniffling so much? Well, he's sure she wouldn't mind. Right? It's worth a shot...

"Haru, are your allergies acting up?" Haru perks up at the sudden question.

"Huh? Oh, uh, probably. Lots of dust and pollen and stuff..."

"Are you sure? You aren't dizzy, or have a sore throat?" His tail smacks the ground a bit and he leans in closer. Haru crosses her arms on the small coffee table.

"Hmm, I guess my throat is a little itchy-"

"Are you getting sick?"

"Uhh I dunno, I can't really tell-"

"I know how to make miso soup at least! And I can go buy some medicine if you... if you want me to, that is!"

"Hey, hey, calm down! I'm fine. If it gets worse, I'll let you know, okay?"

Legosi shrinks back down a bit, and nods dismissively. Maybe that was a bit too much... It could just be the pollen, after all.

"Oh, yeah so! I think you could use a plant or two in here. Maybe some cacti... Or a fern? Or maybe you'd like some flowers? I know having plants around makes a house feel more like home."

"That sounds good!"

"Okay, I'll help you pick out something from my garden! Free of charge!"

The idea of having something to remind him of Haru when she's not around leaves Legosi excited for that day. He wonders what plant she'll pick for him...

His daydream of plants is interrupted, however, as Haru lets out a loud sneeze too big for her tiny body.

"Aaahhh... sorry! You got any tissues?"

"Here!!" Legosi hands her his handkerchief.

"You sure you're alright?"

"Phew! ... I think so. Look. If I get sick, I'll stop by and you can help me out, but I'm pretty sure its just allergies!"

"... Okay."

The next day, Legosi is anxiously waiting around. He can't help but worry about Haru. He hasn't heard from her yet. She could be right, that it was just allergies, but the wait is agonizing. Which is why he's practically flinging the door open when he hears the tiniest knock. He's greeted by Haru gazing up at him, a lazy smile on her face. He can't hide his excited tail at seeing her finally, it brushes against his legs.

"Hiii." She greets him with a small wave.

"How are you feeling?"

"Ahah... guess you were right. Its totally a cold. I'm all stuffed up. And man, is it hot! ...Agh this stinks!" She shakes her head in disappointment. "I could've just toughed it out, but, you know... You seemed like you wanted to help."

His tail droops as he really starts to notice the changes since yesterday. She's a bit unsteady, shifting her weight like she's trying to keep her balance under control. Her little sniffs are more persistent too. Snapping out of a worried haze, he holds the door open wider, moving aside.

"Uh, you can come in! Sorry, feel free to get comfortable..."

"Thanks." Haru drags her feet as she walks in and sits down at the table with a huff, her head resting in her hand. Legosi idles around the kitchen area.

"Have you eaten yet?"

"Not really, I don't have much of an appetite right now."

"Oh... do you want some water?"

"Yeah, sure." Legosi waves a bottle in her direction and she takes a swig gratefully. Her gaze drifts into a distant corner, not really focusing on anything, fidgeting with the bottle in her hand. She let's out a sigh. The floor creaks as Legosi sits down at her side, leaning in closely. He places the back of his hand on her head carefully, the touch surprises her a bit. She weakly shoves him away. "Hey, hey! I don't want you getting sick, don't get so close!" Legosi shrinks back a bit, still very concerned. "Ah, sorry... I usually just hide out in my room when I'm sick. Never really liked all the fuss... But you're just trying to help. I shouldn't push you away."

As if to apologize, she grabs his hand and puts it against her face firmly. "Your hands are so big! They can cover my whole face!" She laughs, her breath feels very warm. Legosi can't help but enjoy her touch. Once Haru let's go, she tucks her hands into her lap. "You should wash your hands..."

Legosi hurriedly washes his hands in the kitchen sink as Haru stands up, her legs wobble under the weight. "I should probably lie down for a bit..." On her way to the futon, she stumbles over her feet. Before she can hit the floor, she's swiftly caught by Legosi, her weight supported by both his arms. He sets her down on the futon gently. Haru smiles up at him. "Thanks, I just got a bit dizzy is all."

"I should really go get you some medicine. Uhhh though maybe I'll make some tea first? So you'll have something while I'm away... Do you want some tea, Haru?"

"I guess tea would be nice..."

Legosi fills an old kettle with water and prepares the tea hastily. Haru smiles as she watches him pace around anxiously. The sight reminds her of how worried her mother would get when she was sick as a child. She would always complain, but she was glad someone cared.

Legosi can't help but pace and busy himself. Caring for someone so small and delicate feels like a very important duty. Especially since its Haru! That makes it even more crucial that he does this right! She had to be comfortable, she needs to be warm, she needs to eat, to stay hydrated, and-

Legosi jumps at the kettle's screeching whistle. He hurriedly prepares the tea, burning himself a few times in the process, but succeeding nonetheless. He hears Haru laugh at his clumsiness, and appreciates that she even has the energy to. When the cup is finally ready, he carefully brings it over to Haru. She takes the cup and breaths in the aroma. Legosi is already halfway out the door and fumbling with his jacket.

"Uh, so, I'll be back soon!! Enjoy the tea, and make sure you rest while I'm gone! I'm going to go get some medicine!" He swiftly closes the door, and his footsteps fade as he rushes out. The silence doesn't last, however, as those same footsteps shuffle back to the door and hurriedly lock it, a muffled apology is heard from the other side as they stomp off again. Haru sips at her tea, smiling warmly. As she finishes the cup, she plops over on the futon, feeling the tension slowly leave her body.

It sure is nice to be taken care of. Of course she would rather avoid worrying others, but when its Legosi, it feels... okay. It truly feels as though he'd like nothing more than to care for her. And that feeling is better than anything. She knows how nice it is to take care of others. When a flower is wilting, she always gets it to perk up again. She hopes Legosi will let her worry about him more often. But that guy is just so oblivious to that stuff... If he were sick, she is sure she'd have to practically tie him down to make him stay. The image of him collapsing from working himself too hard always sends a shiver down her spine. Though that could just be the cold... She burrows under the blanket as the shivering starts to get more intense. Maybe when he gets back, he'll let her hug him close.

The creaking from the front door wakes Haru. She sits up and rubs her eyes. Legosi hobbles into the room, kicking the door closed. He's carrying way too many bags. He piles them all on the counter.

"Sorry for waking you... I ran into Louis, and he bought a few things for you. Some tissues, pudding... Vegetable juice... Some ice packs... Oh, and I got some medicine!"

"How's he doing?"

"He's fine, more concerned about you, apparently. But I'm not surprised..."

"Mm-hm..."

Legosi holds out an ice pack. "Ooh, yes please." She takes it and holds it against her cheek, lovingly. "Aaaaahhh thank god..." She plops back down on the futon, hugging the ice pack to her face.

"Before you go back to sleep, you should take some medicine... here." She takes the pills from his hand.

"'Kay..." she swallows the pills with a swig of tea. "Thanks, Legosi."

"You're welcome. I'm glad you came to me before it got any worse..." Haru smiles, tracing her fingers around the large cup in her hands. After putting a few things away, Legosi kneels down at Haru's side. He gently feels her forehead. They linger in heavy silence, until Haru smirks a bit. Still maintaining eye contact, she quickly pecks Legosi on the nose. He flinches on contact, freezing up. Haru can't help but laugh at his priceless expression. This big wolf suddenly looks like he could float away at any second, his tail standing straight up and eyes wider than usual. She watches his expression slowly shift to something more firm, and kind, and she leans into him as he bends down and embraces her in an overwhelmingly warm hug. Her arms clutch his shirt and he wraps his long arms around her form, strong, but gentle. A hug that describes Legosi, wholeheartedly.

"Haru... I love you..."

"Mmhh..." she softly hums, burrowing her head into his neck. They stay there for a long while, until Haru completely relaxes in his grip. Legosi leans back, and lies her back down on the futon. She curls into the pillow with a content sigh. Spotting the ice pack nearby, he places it by Haru. She instinctively grabs it and holds it close. She's just... so small. And cute. He contemplates taking a picture for a bit too long, but decides against it. He'll just commit the image to memory...

He wonders if he should try to make soup. Some miso soup and rice? That should be easy enough... And now that she's taken some medicine, maybe she'll feel better when she wakes up. Good enough to eat something. With a determined nod, he gets to work, grateful that he can do this for someone he cares so deeply about.

This is really all he could ever want.

~~~~~

#beastars fanfic #beastars legosi x haru #sickfic #fanfiction #fanfic #sick day #legosi x haru fanfic #legosi x haru #beastars #beastars legosi #beastars haru #writing #fluff #i really tried to get their characters right #i hope this makes you smile

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hanniiesuckle17 · 4 years

Text

Noir Reaction: S/o Cries When They Lose Something Important

A/n: this was requested by @emeraldbabygirl thank you for requesting bb!!! *I do not own these gifs I would like to credit all the owners of them and thank them for creating them of our wonderful boys!* (I went a little overboard with siha’s 😅based on semi real experience)

Seunghoon:

Seunghoon's smile fell when he heard your voice over the phone. "Baby, what's wrong?" You had only left the studio a couple hours ago. What possibly could have happened? You were usually asleep by now.

"My necklace....I can't find it." You said through sobs.

He knew that your necklace was really important to you. You never took it off; even when he bought you another one you refused to take the other off. "Y/n-baby- it's like two am. Get some sleep and I'll help you look for it tomorrow." You let out another stifled cry over the phone.

"I'll try, Hoonie. I don't know if I'll be able to sleep." With that, you hung up. Seunghoon checked the time again and got up out of bed. Being careful not to wake the other boys, Seunghoon put on some actual clothes and a mask and headed back to Luk Factory.

After convincing a janitor to open the studio door for him, Seunghoon used his phone as a flashlight to look for your necklace. He searched the couch where you were sitting earlier that night and even by the recording equipment. Just as he was about to give up and leave, Seunghoon caught glimpse of a flash of silver in the corner.

Smiling, he bent over and picked it up. He pulled out his phone to shoot you a text but stopped when he saw the time, 4:17. "I'll just surprise her tomorrow."

Yeonkuk:

Yeonkuk walked into your apartment only to have his head almost taken off by a flying shoe. He knew you could be forgetful at times but you had talked about going to brunch this morning all week. You couldn't have forgotten. "Hey, honey? You ready to go?" He called out.

He watched you rummage and search through your apartment. "Okay...not ready then." Yeonkuk watched you for a few more minutes before deciding this wasn't some random forgetfulness. "Hey, what's wrong?" He said turning you around.

His eyes widened seeing bags under your eyes and tears on your cheeks. "Woah! Y/n, what's up, baby?"

"I lost it.....my dad's hat. I lost it...."

He knew you and your dad were very close. It took a lot out of you to move away from him and here to Seoul. He wrapped you up in a hug and let you cry into his chest until your breath started to slow.

Slowly he pulled away and took your hands in his, making you look him in the eye. "Don't worry, honey. We'll find it." You let out a shaky breath as he squeezed your hand. "Let's look for it together." He said before leading you to a seemingly less searched area of your overturned apartment.

Junyong:

Junyong sat up in bed quite confused. He had rolled over and reached for you only to find an empty space beside him. While he himself often suffered from problems sleeping you were quite the sound sleeper. Rubbing his eyes, Junyong got up out of bed and began the search for you. You were completely enveloped in your search that you didn’t even hear him call out to you from the hallway. “Honey, come back to bed,” he called, his voice groggy and slurred from sleep.

When you didn’t respond he walked over and gently turned you around. Quickly his tired body jumped to alert when he saw your tear-stained cheeks. “Y/n? What’s wrong?” His thumb brushed across your cheek wiping a tear away.

“My earrings. I can’t find them. The ones my grandmother gave me- I was cleaning earlier and I took them off....”

He calmy quieted your cries and looked around the overturned living room before looking back into your tired eyes. There was no way you were in a healthy state. “Hey, it is okay. I’ll help you look for them first thing tomorrow morning, but you need sleep. Come back to bed with me, honey.”

Slowly, you nodded and took his hand. You knew Junyong would take care of you. He led you back to bed and wrapped you in his arms. You breathed in his smell and did your best not to think about what you lost. You had faith Junyong would help you find them.

Yunsung:

Yunsung felt you tossing and turning. He waited a little bit to see if you settled down or if he needed to help. After your movements stopped he slowly turned over to check on you. To his surprise he found you staring up at the ceiling with slow tears on your cheek.

Gently he wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close to him. “Tell me what’s wrong, love.” He whispered, rubbing soft patterns on your skin. You knew Yunsung was exhausted. You could hear it in his voice.

“It’s nothing, Sung. I just can’t sleep.”

Quickly, you wiped the tears away and turned into his chest. “No, tell me what’s wrong or I’m not going back to sleep.” You chuckled already seeing his eyes closing. He placed a lazy kiss on your forehead as you let out a sigh.

“I lost my bracelet. I’ve been looking for it for days; I just can’t find it.” The two of you sat in silence for a while. You started to slowly feel better as your boyfriend continued to sleepily trace patterns on your back.

All of a sudden, he got out of bed and pulled you with him. “Where are we going?” You asked as your tired boyfriend dragged you into the living room and started searching through your couch cushions. “Sung- what are you doing?”

He turned and gave you a tired but loving smile. “I’m helping you look. Duh!”

Siheon:

Siheon scrolled through his phone as Siha talked next to him. The boys were going out to lunch while they were on break. “How’s Y/n?” Siha asked bringing Siheon’s attention back to the conversation.

“She’s doing okay. She’s been having trouble sleeping lately, but she won’t tell me why. I think it’s just school stress or something.” Siha nodded and thanked the waiter as he set down their food. The two boys talked as they scarfed down the delicious and semi-cheap lunch.

“So I was gonna go out later with Hoyeon and-” Siheon was interrupted by his phone ringing. He picked up quickly seeing your name. “Hey, baby, what’s up?” He listened intently to your tired voice on the phone. It sounded like you had been crying. “Okay, I’ll be right there. Why don’t you make some tea for yourself before I get there.” He apologized to his friend and bandmate before getting up and leaving the restaurant. A cab ride later he was in your apartment and looking for you. He found sipping tea on the couch with tears in your eyes and dark circles under them.

“Siheon I can’t find my grandmother’s recipe book. I know I just moved, but I’ve looked in every box! I was searching all night! I even called my old landlord-”

“Baby, baby. Calm down. It’s okay. Didn’t you say you lent it to Minhyuk last week?” He wiped your tears and sat down next to you. You set down your tea and put your head in your hands. “Oh my god....I did. I was freaking out over nothing. Siheon I’m so sorry for bothering you.” He shrugged.

“It was no problem, baby. Now, let’s get you to bed. You look exhausted.”

Hoyeon:

“No! What!! No- Are you kidding me!!”

Hoyeon shot up out of bed and looked for you in sleepy panic. He frantically searched the living room for any sign of danger before collapsing against the hallway wall in relief. He trudged over to you sitting at your desk. You sat with your head in your hands and tears streaming down your cheeks.

He kneeled next to you and took your hands in his. “Babe, what’s wrong? You were supposed to come to bed hours ago.” You wiped your tears on your sleeve and ran a stressed hand through your hair. You looked down at your boyfriend and sighed.

“I can’t find my flash drive. I lost my entire thesis and it’s due at the end of the week!” Hoyeon gently pulled you down into his lap and let you cry into his shoulder. “Baby, you’ve got to sleep,” He whispered, stroking your back. “I’ll help you finish the work tomorrow-”

“No! Hoyeon- you don’t understand! I’ve spent over a year and a half working on this thesis. It’s just gone! What am I gonna do?”

Your boyfriend pulled away and wiped your tears. “Let me see if I can fix this.” Gently, he placed you on the couch and sat down at your laptop. He spent the next thirty minutes at your laptop trying to fix your lost thesis. “Okay! It’s done. Your lost thesis has returned!”

“How did you do it?” You said giving him the biggest hug and kiss in history. “You’re lucky I put a back-up on not only my laptop but yours too.”

Siha:

Siha knew you would be asleep when you got home. It was easily three in the morning when he closed the door to your shared apartment. The boys had decided to get dinner after the concert and fan meet so he was more than a couple hours late.

All the lights were off in the house so Siha quietly took off his shoes and put his bag near the door. He was surprised to hear soft sniffles coming from your side of the bed.

"Y/n?" The sobs stopped at the sound of your name. His ears picked up on the sound of you getting out of bed and shuffling over to him. Instinctively, he held your head to him when you buried your face in his neck. "Tell me what's wrong, sweet pea," His voice was soft as he held you and gently rubbed your back.

"I can't find my aunt's blanket.... I looked everywhere. I swear I washed it the other day -"

He quieted you when you began to cry again. Siha was quite familiar with the blanket. He knew you couldn't sleep without it. While he stroked your hair he tried to think of what he could do to help. "Ah! I bet I know where it is." He said wiping away your tears. Taking your hand he led you to the laundry room and took off his jacket, throwing it somewhere out of the way.

Wiping your eyes, you watched as your boyfriend started moving the heavy washing machine until he could climb onto and reach behind it. Sure enough, after a few minutes, he pulled out the soft blanket and handed it to you. You smiled holding the blanket again. Letting the familiar and calming smell and feeling the blanket gave you overwhelm you. "Thank you so much, Siha." You gave him a sleepy kiss, smiling at him.

"Of course. I love you,"

Minhyuk:

“Minhyuk?”

His ears perked up hearing your distressed voice over the phone. “Darling? Y/n-baby- what’s wrong? You know what. It doesn’t matter. Where are you?” After listening to your location Minhyuk hung up and screamed at Seunghoon as he was halfway out the door. “Bro- I’m not the one you should be telling!” Seunghoon called back but shrugged as it fell on deaf ears.

Minhyuk sprinted up the stairs to your company’s practice room. “The boyfriend is here! Where is she?” Your group members pointed to you sitting in the corner, searching through your bag. He walked over and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder making you jump. “Darling, what’s wrong? You sounded really sad on the phone.”

You sighed, rubbing your arms. “I can’t find the jacket my dad gave me! I was up looking for it all night. I can’t concentrate on anything. And I’m supposed to meet my dad tonight- Minnie what am I gonna do?” His heart broke when he saw tears flow from your eyes.

“Well then come on. Let’s go find your jacket.” He grabbed your hand, pulling you up from the floor. The two of you quickly left to go search your dorm for the jacket. Minhyuk even called your dad for you to tell him you might be late for dinner.

“Thank you for helping me, Minnie.” You said kissing his cheek before the both of you resumed your search.

Daewon:

“Baby, what’s wrong?” He asked sitting up in bed. A quick glance at the clock told him it was easily two in the morning. You were shuffling through the dresser in the dark.

“Baby, what are you doing?” Daewon rolled out of bed and over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He felt your shoulders shake and turned you around. “Y/n, tell me what’s wrong.” You sighed and wiped your eyes.

“I had this box of stuff that you gave me- or things from our relationship. The ticket stub from our first date. The photo booth strip from when you told me you loved me, and a lot of other stuff too. It’s gone. I can’t find it!” He watched as you frantically searched through more drawers.

Before you could move to search the closet Daewon pulled you back to him and looked at you with a smile. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it meant so much to you.” He kissed your forehead while you tried not to be confused.

“What do you mean?”He sighed and took your hand. Your boyfriend pulled you into the living room and to the bookshelf near the window. He pulled out a book and handed it to you. “I was going to surprise you on our anniversary, but I think now is as good a time as any.”

He watched as you flipped through the scrapbook he made. “Did Siheon help with this?” “Yes.” You laughed and brought your lips to his. A big smile lit up his sleepy face. He was glad that he could make you smile.

Requests are open my lovelies!

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hutchhitched · 4 years

Text

Maybe This Summer, Chapter 3

Summary: Katniss Everdeen needed a vacation. On a whim, she reserved three months at Panem Resorts in North Carolina. She expected to spend her time recovering from the recent death of her sister, exploring the nearby nature reserve, and reminiscing about happier times. What she didn’t foresee was bumping into Peeta Mellark, one of Panem’s most valued employees, during his early morning run. Neither did she think she’d grow to admire him when she’d hated him from first sight, but his killer smile and gorgeous blue eyes had a way of breaking down the walls she’d built around her heart. Maybe this summer she’ll finally get what she’s always deserved. Benefiting @fandomtrumpshate for @ldyglfr62. AO3.

Author: @hutchhitched

Rating: Explicit (eventually)

Beta/Graphics: @xerxia31

The story will post on Tuesday mornings at 11:00 am CDT.

_______________

Reaping Day

Katniss pressed back on her heels and propped her elbows on her knees. Wiping the sweat from her forehead, she smiled triumphantly at the array of leaves, flowers, and bark she’d collected in the hours since she’d roused at dawn and stepped into the natural wonder of The Woods. She wiped her hands on the front of her t-shirt and narrowed her eyes at the words on her chest. “You reap what you sow” gleamed in neon red, and she considered burning the piece of clothing once she returned to her room. She hated the saying, and memories from that science camp were one of the worst she had from her lifetime of exploring the natural world.

More than anything, she fundamentally disagreed with the message. She hadn’t reaped what she’d sown, and neither had Prim. Her sister didn’t deserve what she got—a cancer diagnosis at 25 and death two years later. Katniss hadn’t asked to lose her father at eleven and take over raising herself and Prim as a consequence. She’d been a child. No one “deserved” to be punished for something they hadn’t done, and she resented the implication that every experience was part of a huge cosmic plan that somehow made sense.

Nothing about losing her sister made sense. There was no hidden meaning. Prim was dead, and it sucked. Platitudes about her being “in a better place” or “everything happens for a reason” made her want to scream, and she’d cut out several acquaintances who’d attempted to comfort her that way during the days following Prim’s memorial service. Maybe that wasn’t fair, but she wasn’t very good with friends anyway.

Perhaps burning the shirt was the answer. Fire seemed to be a good enough weapon to destroy it and watch something else rise from the ashes. At least that had been her reasoning when she’d agreed to cremate Prim instead of burying her, even though it almost killed her to acquiesce to her sister’s decision.

“I don’t want to be shoved underground in a dark box, Katniss. Not like dad. Anything but that,” Prim had announced from her hospital bed after the final round of chemo had proven ineffective. Katniss understood the fear. Her beloved father’s death in a mine explosion a mile underground had haunted them both during their childhood and adolescent years. She’d concentrated on that when she realized that would mean reducing her baby sister to ashes.

She was still waiting for something good to rise from them. To sow what she reaped. To find the hope for the future and realize that things can be good again.

“Well, you’re just full of cheer today, Katniss Everdeen,” she chided herself and put the items in her bag. “Look what you accomplished. Look what you reaped…”

Today marked the end of ten days at Panem. She’d spent the good part of the past week avoiding the other guests and sticking close to her cabin until she’d finally admitted to herself she was escaping something else entirely. She didn’t want to run into Peeta again, not after her over-reaction and abhorrent behavior during their brief encounters. She was being ridiculous, but today marked the end of that. She’d go to the pool and mingle with the rest of the world. Maybe she’d even meet someone, and if she happened to run into Peeta, perhaps she’d apologize for her behavior. And maybe she wouldn’t.

She only had two swimsuits, one a more practical halter that was still wet from her frequent dips in the lake at Cabin 12’s private beach. The other was much more revealing, a coral, peachy, orange-ish type of bikini that Madge insisted she buy the last time she’d been dragged to the store to shop. She had to admit, it looked amazing against her olive undertones, so she changed into it, slipped on a robe, and grabbed a towel and book.

The pool area was fairly empty for the early afternoon, so she took a quick dip to rinse away the traces of her morning excursion into the woods. Once she cooled down, she settled onto a lounge chair on the far side of the deck and started to read. Lost in the book, she didn’t stir until another guest plunked down next to her.

“Johanna Mason,” the other woman introduced herself and pulled down her sunglasses to take in Katniss’ lithe form. “Nice suit. You could fill out your top a little more, couldn’t you?”

The unwarranted familiarity and insolence startled Katniss so much she had to laugh. She should have been offended, but the other woman had a way of breaking down the walls she’d carefully constructed to keep her distance from others. Before she knew it, she knew quite a bit about her new friend.

Johanna, a recent divorcée who enjoyed spending her ex-husband’s money, was everything Katniss was not—confident, brash, outspoken, and, most of all, memorable. She drank too much, talked a little too loud, and had an irrepressible appetite for sex. She freely admitted she loved visiting Panem to see what new “eye candy” had been hired for the season and then set her sights on a particular one at the beginning of the summer. Her victory came if she snagged the younger man and kept him on the string for her entire visit.

“His name is Darius,” she mock whispered to Katniss. “He’s much kinder than I usually go for, but he’s a redhead, and his enthusiasm matches his hair color. Insatiable and eager. Always willing to take lessons. Always willing to—”

“Can I get you ladies something?” Finnick stood before them with a wide grin on his handsome face. “You’re looking so comfortable and chummy. I’d hate for you to have to disturb yourselves to get anything else from the bar.”

“Cosmo,” Johanna replied, “and keep them coming. My new friend Katniss and I are getting acquainted. How’s Annie, and where’s your little blonde friend who makes me drool and refuses all my advances? Bread boy, I call him, because he has a loaf in the front and buns in the back.”

Finnick grinned and shook his head. “Right away, Ms. Mason. Annie’s wonderful, as always, and Peeta’s… Well, Peeta’s working through some things. He’s had a rough start to the season.”

Katniss stared in horror at Finnick and swallowed hard. She hadn’t realized until just this moment what a small world Panem was. Everyone seemed to know everyone, and the young man who’d run into her while jogging was known and seemingly admired by this brash older woman. Was Katniss the reason his summer started out less than ideal? No, she decided. She didn’t have that kind of power over anyone, but she vowed to be much nicer to him when she saw him next.

Finnick was as good as his word. The cosmos appeared at their seats whenever either finished one. They drank all afternoon. The alcohol loosened her up, and before she knew it, they were ogling the pool boys and dissecting her non-existent sex life like old girlfriends.

“You should find yourself a little something here,” Jo, which she insisted on being called, argued. “Technically, it’s not allowed, but fraternization is rampant here. There are only a few who refuse, and I think that’s only because they haven’t found the right guest yet.”

“I wouldn’t feel right,” Katniss insisted, but Jo snorted.

“You’ll feel right if you find someone who knows how to do it. Come on, woman. Live a little. Let go of all that angst, and immerse yourself in something. Or let someone immerse himself right into you,” she said with an overexaggerated wink.

The sun dipped lower in the sky as the afternoon passed, and she agreed to eat dinner with Jo on the deck. The food helped, but by the time Katniss stumbled back to her cabin as the sky filled with a gloriously majestic sunset, she was fairly drunk. She tripped on the steps and would have fallen if a figure hadn’t popped out of the shadows and caught her.

“Easy there.” The words rumbled through his chest, and she felt them against her back. She wasn’t surprised in the slightest to see dark blue eyes filled with concern when she turned to look at him.

“Mr. Mellark,” she sighed. “Of course.”

_________________

“Peeta,” he insisted. Katniss was pliant against him. A lazy smile graced her lovely face, and her eyes were soft and unfocused. She smelled like sunscreen and booze, and the scent was oddly erotic. “Are you alright, Ms. Everdeen?”

“I’m fine, and my name is Katniss.” She slurred her words, and Peeta chuckled at the look on her face when she realized it.

“Can I help you inside?”

“Suuuuuuuuuuuuuure,” she drawled and smacked him on the chest. She poked at him a few times and blurted, “You have great muscles.”

“Um, thank you, ma’am. Here we go.” He shifted her and looped her arm over his shoulder to help her up the stairs. She produced the key, and he swung open the door and ushered her into the main room. She smiled weakly at him as she sank onto the sofa and leaned her head back on the cushion. He hesitated for a moment, but he needed to get out his apology before he lost his nerve, even if she wasn’t in the right state to fully understand.

“Katniss, I just wanted to apologize for my behavior last week. Here at Panem, guests are our first priority, and I was incredibly rude. I should have come to you right away, but I needed some time to work through some things first. I really am very contrite about my behavior. It was unacceptable.”

She didn’t respond. The silence stretched over a minute and then two before he tried again. She interrupted immediately.

“I was equally awful to you, Mr. Mellark, and I’m sorry. It’s been a rough year or so.”

“How many times am I going to have to ask you to call me Peeta?”

She opened her eyes and raked her eyes up and down his form. The gray heated to molten, and he shifted under her gaze. “Peeta,” she murmured and closed her eyes again.

“Can I get you anything before I leave, ma’am? Water or something?”

Her lips quirked, and she opened her eyes and sat up. “No. No, that’s okay. Only… Do you think maybe you could stay with me for a little while? Until the world stops spinning, anyway.”

He nodded carefully. She heaved a sigh, and he reached out to offer his hand. She grabbed it and hauled herself off the couch. His mouth went dry as her robe gaped open, and her taut stomach peeked at him from between two strips of his favorite color in the world. Soft orange against her smooth skin made him react quickly, and he was relieved when she stepped from the room so he could adjust. The last thing he needed was a raging boner with a woman who he’d already offended.

Peeta wandered over to the kitchen counter where stacks of leaves and other fauna decorated the surface. He nudged a few but stopped when he saw the labels carefully marking what each specimen was. They seemed much more organized than her soil samples he’d knocked from her hands when he’d bumped into her the week before, and he didn’t want to destroy any more of her work.

“They’re my babies,” she said softly from behind his left shoulder. He jumped at her nearness. She’d snuck up on him, moving silently back into the room, after changing into a pair of black leggings and a green v-neck t-shirt that looked so soft he wanted to wrap himself up in it.

“What are they?” he queried and turned to focus on the plants again instead of noticing the way her legs curved elegantly under the tight fabric or the tiny hint of cleavage that peeked above her neckline.

She poked at a piece of bark and explained, “They’re a collection of the local flora and fauna. I’m on leave from an agro-biology lab, but Panem is so close to The Woods that I decided I better use the time off to my advantage. I’ll catalog these, and we can use them as further research. I’ve also wondered… Well, never mind.”

“What?” he prodded. “What have you wondered?”

“My sister wasn’t ever much of an outdoor type of person. She loved helping people and was halfway through med school when she…uh, when she got sick.” He waited patiently as she struggled to control her voice and continued. “We spent a summer here once, and it was the only time I could get her to hike with me or go into that cave. You know, the one over there on the far side of the lake?”

“Yeah, I know that one.”

“She asked me so many questions that summer, all about which plants were edible and what ones could be used for medicine. My mom used to know a bunch of that, too, but Prim said I explained it so much better.” Her pause was wistful and full of memories when she added, “I’ve always thought maybe I could make a field guide. For kids, you know? With illustrations and short descriptions instead of the scientific explanations the ones with photographs have. Get kids interested in nature at an early age.”

He nodded and glanced over at her. Her face was soft, and it made her even more lovely than he already knew she was. “That’s a wonderful idea. Why don’t you?”

“I can’t draw,” she admitted with a rueful smile. “Not even stick figures. I’m terrible. I’d have to hire an artist, and I’m just not in a place finically to do that right now.”

“I see.”

“Anyway, I’m going to sit down because the room isn’t quite stable yet. If you wouldn’t mind making us some, there’s cocoa in the cupboard. That always helps sober me up better than coffee. If your offer to get me something still stands, that is?” She looked so hopeful that a pang shot through his stomach, and he turned quickly to make their drinks.

“Here you go,” he said as he handed her a steaming mug and settled into the chair closest to her side of the couch. “Feeling a little better?”

She sipped the cocoa and groaned when it hit her tongue. “This is so good. Yes, I’m much better. I don’t normally have so much, but I made a new friend today. That woman could drink a sailor under the table and curse better than him while she did.”

“Johanna Mason?” It had to be. None of the other guests could hold a candle to the divorcée, and she added so much color to the resort. Despite her bawdy sense of humor and relentless attempts to lure him into her bedroom, he genuinely liked the woman. She made no apologies for who she was, and he admired her confidence.

“Yes, Jo. What a personality.”

“She’s something alright. She puts quite a spell over everyone she meets. Lots of my co-workers, actually, too. She might have mentioned it.”

Katniss nodded and considered him. “She did. She also mentioned you.”

“Did she? She have anything good to say about me?”

“I guess that depends on what you consider good. She said you were sexy and one of the few employees who didn’t dip into the company pool of eligible women.”

“Flattering and fair. She’s right.”

“Some people call that good ethics,” she said.

“And what do you call it?”

“I call it integrity, and I’m a fan. Don’t push the boundaries unless the boundaries should be breached. Then it’s fair game.”

Peeta took a drink and studied her over the rim. Her earlier snippiness was nowhere to be seen, and he had to admit he liked this version of her. Annie was right; Katniss seemed a little lonely and guarded herself behind a brick wall built with sadness and shitty luck. She probably hadn’t had a break for a long time. Maybe he could offer her one.

“You know if you need an artist, I happen to know one who’s pretty talented.”

“An artist?”

“For your book. The illustrated field guide thing?”

“Oh! The plant book,” she laughed. “I’d almost forgotten I shared that. Nobody really knows anything about that little dream.”

“Well, he could probably do whatever you needed, and I know for a fact he’s available this summer if you wanted to work on it during your stay.”

“Really?” she asked eagerly. “What’s his name? When do you think he could start?”

“Peeta Mellark, and is tomorrow afternoon too soon?”

She gaped at him for just a moment until it registered, and then she broke into a smile that lit up the room. She dazzled, and he knew he’d made the right decision.

“Tomorrow afternoon is perfect. How’s 4:30?”

“I’ll be here.”

_________________

“You’re looking awfully smug. Where’ve you been?”

Finnick grinned at his friend and retorted, “A gentleman never tells.”

“And where can I find one of those?” Peeta deadpanned.

“I’m wounded. Wounded, I say. Whatever happened to being kind to your friends? Especially one who’s newly engaged.”

“You didn’t.”

“I did.”

Peeta whooped and grabbed Finnick in a bearhug. “You finally did it! Congratulations, man! Annie’s such a great girl, and you’re…well, you’re not the worst. Really happy for you.”

“Thanks, Peet. I took her out on the lake, over to the cove on the other side and surprised her with a candlelight picnic on the shore.”

He stopped there. Peeta didn’t need to know about how Annie had surprised him once he’d slipped the ring on her finger. How she’d made noises that scared away wildlife and done things to him that might be illegal in some countries.

“The outdoors seems to suit you. I’m surprised you didn’t make her swim over there,” Peeta teased.

“Just because I look my best when I’m shirtless and drenched doesn’t mean everyone does. Although, Annie…”

Peeta laughed and clapped his friend on the shoulder. “To be fair, I think all women look better shirtless and sopping wet. And speaking of that, I have something completely off topic to tell you.”

“No drenched women begging Golden Boy to make them come?”

“Finn, that’s…so beyond my abilities it’s not even worth a comment.”

“Just tell me,” Finnick sighed. “After that, we’re going to work on getting you laid sometime soon. You’ve lost all sense of humor.”

“I apologized to Cabin 12.”

“Katniss Everdeen?”

“Yes. Katniss. And I offered to help her with a project.”

Finnick narrowed his eyes and asked, “What kind of project?”

“I’m going to offer my services as an illustrator for a project she’s working on this summer, but it’s not something she’s willing to share yet, so keep your mouth shut, please.”

“Will you both be fully clothed during this process?” Something flashed across Peeta’s face, and Finnick chased it like a cat does a mouse. “What? Explain that look.”

Peeta shook his head. “It’s nothing. She was in a bikini when I showed up at her cabin.”

“And?”

Finnick waited until Peeta admitted, “She looks great in it.”

“I bet she does, Peet. I bet she does.”

“Shut up, Finn.”

“Goodnight, lover boy.”

#maybe this summer #everlark #everlark fanfiction #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen

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queencatherynerhys · 4 years

Text

The Fighter - Chapter 8

A/N: I’ve had this published in Wattpad for a while now. I just have been too lazy to publish it here. Sorry. I just got back into being active this week when editing my Masterlist.

Summary: Another attack shakes the palace grounds. Can Scarlet fight them off and protect her prince?

Tags: @devineinterventions2 @madaraism @theroyalweisme @drakewalkerwhipped @drakesfiance @hhiggs @hellospunkiebrewster @alicars @mrswalkerreynolds @mfackenthal @simplyaiden-blog @hopefulmoonobject @blackcatkita @cocomaxley @boneandfur @lizeboredom @crayziimaginations @umccall71 @zarina-x-zig @writtenbycandy @ranishajay @heatherfilliez @drakelover78 @indiacater @pens-girl-87 @katurrade @speedyoperarascalparty @greyeyedsmile14 @barbaravalentino @zilch3 @mynameiskaylabella @darley1101 @blznbaby @trashbagfullofflannels @bella-ca @highlyselectiveextrovert *I just used my usual tag list. Let me know if you want to be taken off if you don’t want to receive notifications about this story. Also let me know if you want to be added.*

"I apologize, Amer –," Maxon's mention of America paralyzes me to my core. My breathing halts. My heart beat pounds in my ears as my nervousness rise. I spend all energy to keep my facial expression as neutral and empty as I can. Has he figured out who I am? Was it really that easy? What gave me away? My physical features or the way I have acted when he was around? Will he change his view of me? Will he continue to hate me? All these questions swim around my brain so fast that I get dizzy.

A panic attack threatens to grow from deep within me and I fight to suppress it. I control my staggered breathing trying to regain prevent myself from spiraling.

"Are you alright?" as if my hearing unclogs, I hear Maxon speak to me.

I don't respond. I couldn't.

"I apologize. I was about to call you America. It's just...you remind me so much of her. The sound of your voice even sounds like hers, but I know that can't be. Anyway, I just wanted to apologize for my childish behavior. I don't know what has come over me. I guess ever since you told me that, Ame-, shewas dead I haven't been thinking clearly."

I internally sigh with earned relief that he didn't recognize who I am. This was too close. I can't give him any hint of detection. If he finds out, I can't protect him.

He continues to talk, and I try to pay attention, "Although, forgive me, but I am having a hard time trying to picture how you and...her...would've come across each other. I don't see you, how do they say it, hanging out with the same crowd?"

"You're right. We led completely different lives, so I understand."

"So?"

I cross my arms and quirk my brows in response, confused at his inquiry.

"Sorry, I thought I was pretty clear that I was asking how you met."

Oh. That. I guess I should have known he would keep asking about her. If I answer his question, it would lead to the topic of her death. My love for him wishes to spare him the pain, but I know he would only keep asking and the unknowing will only tear him apart from the inside out and so against my better judgment I tell him my cover story.

"America and I met while we were both being held deep within a Southerner's Rebel Camp."

Maxon's warm brown eyes widen as the words fell out of my mouth.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I was captured during a rebel attack. I was carried and held in their camp for what seemed like months. I would not have survived that...experience... if weren't for the companionship I built with her during our time there. We thought we were going to never make it out alive. Over the course of our stay there, we got to know each other very well. She shared of her time here and I of my career and my agency," I recall the rehearsed story the Force made for America's death.

"Was...was she...tortured?" his question takes me by surprise. I didn't expect such a forward question.

"Do you really want to know?" I sincerely asks as I lean forward to look closer at him, gauging an answer from his beautiful orbs. He doesn't answer my curiosity, but I can tell from his body language that he really wanted to know even if he knew it might be painful to hear the "truth".

"Yes, she was," I whisper reverently. It's the truth. Scarlet is America, and America is Scarlet. Scarlet was tortured during her time with the rebels.

Maxon's hand fly to his mouth and his eyes water. Tears threaten to spill, but he holds them back. Afraid to show his vulnerability in front of me.

"It's ok to cry. It's ok to grieve for what you have lost," I reassure him that there's nothing wrong about what he's feeling.

"It's my fault. Her death is my fault. Six years ago, I let my anger get the best of me. The rebels attacked and because of my resentment I didn't pay attention to her. I didn't want to worry about her. I didn't want to feel anything for her. I thought she betrayed me when I saw her with that guard. If I didn't let my pride consume me, I wouldn't have been so blind, so careless. I would have protected her. I wouldn't have let her be captured," the cries he tries so hard to keep within fall and the pain and the guilt shakes his frame. All I wanted to do was to reach out and comfort, to cry and tell him that it was a lie. I am still alive. I am still fighting for him.

"You know, the last thing I hear every night is the sound of her screaming my name?" he sniffles and my heart shatters furthermore. I'm so sorry, Maxon. "I tried so hard to find her through the chaos before the guards dragged me off to the safe room. When the dust cleared, and no one found her, I knew the worse has happened. I just didn't want to accept it. I guess it was easier to hate her than admit to my shame and guilt."

"She loved you to the very end, you know. Every time she spoke of her time here, she would only recall of her memories of you. You should know that she died a hero. She died saving me. When the agency has finally traced my whereabouts, she sacrificed herself so I could escape. Her blood is on my hands, too," I continue with a lie.

"She did tell me to tell you that the only thing that she ever wanted was your happiness. She wanted you to live a long, happy life," those statements were the truth. Everything I have done in the last six years was so that he can have a happy life.

As if the universe demanded that I prove the statement, a loud, rattling explosion shakes the palace. A distinct shift goes off in my internal mind. At the moment, I'm no longer the director but the fighter.

I don't stay behind to see what Maxon does. I trust that he will follow protocol and do what he has always done and run to a safe room.

"Where are you going? We need to get to a safe room," he yells. His voice gradually gets fainter as I run towards the danger. I know exactly who it is and what, or who, they are coming for and I am not going to let them succeed. I exit the dining room and stop at the base of the grand staircase.

James finds me and I nod telling him that I'm ready. I pull out my gun that's hidden in my back and switch the safety off. Palace guards run about taking staff to their respective safe bunkers. Some immediately take defensive positions to protect.

Their training is such stark contrast to my agents. We aren't trained to wait for the fight. We run towards. We fight to eliminate threats, quickly and aggressively. On cue, Liam runs up with Alicia, Jake and Sam trailing behind him.

"What do you want us to do, Scarlet?" Liam speaks up.

"Follow me," and we sprint towards the front door. When we get outside, we can see the silhouette of a heavy, armored truck coming through the steel iron gates and speedily going down the very, long driveway. A hostile stick out from the roof and launches another grenade with a rocket launcher, exploding 300 feet away from where we stand.

I say a silent prayer that the reinforcement came in from Fennley this morning. We have more guards, more weapons and a motorcycle. I come up with a plan, a stupid one that might end up getting me killed, but a plan nonetheless. I can't let that convoy reach the palace. I look at James' green eyes and speak to him, conveying my plan with our silent communication.

I have a plan. You got this? I tilt my head in the direction of the young agents.

He nods his head in agreement, I'll have your back.

I tuck my gun back in my waistband and I was about to run to the motorcycle, I hear the shuffle of boots. I glance back quickly to find several guards abandoning their defensive tactics and taking post in front of the palace doors. And I also see someone I didn't expect. Maxon.

What the hell is he doing out here?! And why aren't the guards dragging him out of the line of fire and into the safe room.I didn't have time to think about it since the enemies are getting closer by the second.

Since the moment I got to the castle, my emotions and thoughts have been in haywire and frenzy about facing the royals again and being in the same room as Maxon. But right now, as I am running toward the motorcycle to execute my dumb idea I feel at peace, I feel confident. I know my purpose. I know what to do in this situation. I have only one goal in mind: neutralize.

I ignite the motorcycle and under the growl of the engine, I hear Maxon's voice, "What in the world is she doing?" What am I doing? I'm doing what I do best. My job.

The bike lurches forward and I race to meet the oncoming vehicles. I see the enemy appear on the roof of the steel-cladded truck again aiming the launcher towards me and I swerve left and right to avoid the explosives.

My brown hair and black leather jacket whip behind me and my vision becomes narrowed. My heart beat quickens and my grip on the handlebars get tighter. The convoy stops ahead of me and well-equipped enemies file out of the fortified truck.

I close my eyes and downshift the motorcycle as I let go, ready and focused only one thing: fight.

#the selection #the selection series #the elite #the one #maxon #maxon schreave #america #america schreave #maxon x america #maxerica #kiera cass #romance #hurt #angst

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whumpiary · 4 years

Text

post-facility; a few weeks after this drabble, though you don’t need it for context.

[content warnings: this drabble is set in the lead up to sex, during foreplay. expect an appropriate tiny smattering of spice. briefly implied incest in the form of a very bad taste joke. referenced drug and alcohol use]

“So you’re telling me you had a totally normal life. Mummy and daddy? Two and a half kids? White picket fence? The whole shebang?”

Cass nuzzles at his date’s neck until they tilt their head up, give him space to lay lazy kisses along their jugular.

“Yep.”

His date groans deep in their throat, fingers tangling loosely in his hair as they pull his head to the side to plant a kiss on his lips. Cass catches them there, distracting them with his mouth expertly until they hum a gentle protest, make some distance between them again with a tilt of the head.

“I don’t believe you,” they murmur against his lips.

Cass grins and shifts to straddle them, hands trailing down their chest and back up as he looks down at them through heavy lids.

“Well let me take your pants off and I’ll see what I can do about convincing you”

They snort a laugh and shove softly at his hands, pushing palm against palm.

“You’re not taking anything off until you tell me something about yourself”

“I already told you plenty”

“You told me a pile of horseshit”

Cass rolls his eyes and leans down to kiss up his date’s stomach. Usually if he starts at their belly and works his way up their chest, they’re ready to stop talking by the time he gets to their mouth.

“Truth’s boring,” he mumbles.

“So’s the nuclear family”

Cass hums as he circles his tongue around the birthmark on their ribs, a little brown smudge of dark pigment against olive skin. His date gives a little sigh and leans into his touch minutely, their fingers scratching gently at the back of his head, tangling in his hair.

“Okay, so was it like… I dunno. Were you a foster kid?”

Cass kisses the line between the birthmark and their nipple.

“Nope.”

A flick of his tongue is met with a tiny moan, the sucking of air in between their teeth as his date struggles to compose themself.

“Group home?”

Cass smirks against their skin as their spine arches up, pressing their body towards him as he splays his fingers wide over their ribs.

“Nope,” he murmurs, low and deep, delighting in the goosebumps that meet his lips as he does. He moves up along their collarbone, ready work at their neck again, only for them to tilt their head in his way, catching his jaw in their hand.

“Cult?” they ask, with a little smirk. Their eyebrow’s curling up like it’s a joke, eyes are piercing into him like it’s not. Cass sighs, leaning his cheek into their palm so he can plant a little kiss on their wrist.

“If I say yes, do I finally get to blow you?”

“Depends,” his date shrugs, letting him kiss down the inside of their arm.

“On what?”

“If it’s true”

Cass groans and rolls off of them with a huff, lying flat on his back. He stares at the cracks in the ceiling of his date’s shitty little apartment before flopping an arm over his face to cover his eyes.

“Why does it matter?”

He listens to the crinkling of the sheets as his date turns to face him, propping themself up on one arm.

“Because”

“Because why?” he grunts

“I like to know things about the people I’m dating”

Cass snorts, moves his arm a little to squint up at them.

“We’re hardly dating”

They roll their eyes, withdrawing their hand with a little sneer.

“Fine, then. I like to know things about the people I’m fucking, alright?”

“Yeah? How much did you know about that girl at TinTins on Thursday?”

His date smirks at the memory, gives him a little jab to the ribs. Cass squawks and returns the favour, and his date lurches in a peal of laughter. They’re so responsive to touch. It’s part of what makes this fun. He could spill his breakfast across their belly and they’d shiver with anticipation.

Cass takes advantage of the moment to abuse his date’s ticklishness until they’re squealing and writhing away from his hands. They’re just as wirey as Cass but taller and quicker and he has to duck a few times to miss a rogue elbow to the teeth as they try to wrestle out of the attack. It’s only a few moments before they’re straddling his hips, pinning his wrists, forcing Cass into a grinning surrender.

“You know what I mean,” they say, sobering a little even as laughter still bubbles out of them. They trail their fingers down along his arms to rest on his chest “I’ve told you stuff about me. Like I know that was… I know I was drunk and it was different but it just…”

They trail off with a little frown, tracing nonsense shapes into his sternum. Cass props himself up on his elbows to get a better look at their face.

“I dunno,” they continue, voice low and husked our “It just like… feels like you’ve got all this ammo on me now. You know? And like. I don’t know shit about you”

Cass tilts his head to the side, brings their hand up to press a kiss to their knuckles.

“I’m not gonna use it as ammo,” he says gently.

It’s the right thing to say. They smile something sad at him before leaning down to kiss him properly, pulling him towards them until they’re both sitting, legs tangled around each others’ waists. They stay there for a few minutes. Kissing. Tracing the shape of each other’s faces with light finger tips.

And the intimacy is foreign and soft and gentlly horrifying and they can both feel it so even though it’s fucking lovely Cass is kind of unsurprised when his date pushes him away gently with an impish little grin, a new thought clearly having hit them in the quiet.

“Oh my god, were you a Bergen Boy?” they tease. Cass feels his heart drop through his stomach like a stone through oil. “Did you have to wear the little outfits?”

He mustn’t flinch like he thinks he does because his date is still smiling, smoothing out an imaginary shirt collar that Case can feel starched and choking against his throat. He pushes his date’s hair back from their face, watching the way they tilt their head back into his hand a little. Their turn to kiss his wrist.

“Yeah, you nailed it,” he says, letting his face curl into a smile. Enjoying the joke. “My favourite was the blue one”

They pause in their ministrations to pull the appropriately dramatic impressed face, “Ooh with the silver buttons?”

Pewter buttons actually.

“Mm-hmm,” he says, nodding his head enthusiastically “And the, um… God, what do they have? Fuckin’ silk slippers?”

His date snorts a laugh and kisses at his neck with a little hum. Cass closes his eyes and tilts his chin up. He hopes his heart isn’t beating too hard. Or at least if it is, that his date would just misread it for arousal. That’d work. Technically the shoes they’d worn were only silk lined.

“I’m serious,” his date pushes, fingers gently exploring Cass’ throat as they kiss along his jaw “What’s your family like?”

“I dunno,” Cass shrugs. What would he even fucking say at this point? “Normal”

His date rolls their eyes and shoves off him in annoyance.

“What is that meant to mean?”

Cass sighs, leans back on his elbows as he tries to figure out a way to talk out of this whole thing. He’d just wanted an easy fuck. They were usually dangerously easy. Eager, even. So what the fuck was with the ninth degree?

Why was everything that used to be easy getting tangled and hard recently?

“I’m not asking for your whole backstory,” his date says, pushing harder now “I just wanna know something about you. We’ve been doing this for like two months and I don’t even know your last name”

Cass shrugs. What is he meant to say? What do they want him to say? And even as he thinks it he can feel the truth, the truth, the truth, but he’s not fucking giving them that so what’s he meant to fucking say?

“What do you wanna know?”

“Well. Like. What’s your mum like?”

Cass lets out a huff of air and looks down at the galaxy patterning on the doona cover. He traces a little solar system with his forefinger as he thinks.

“I dunno. Maternal,” he mumbles. His date rolls their eyes again, shitting back on their heels. Cass tries again “I dunno… she's… nice, I guess. Loving. Good cook”

“I don’t believe you”

“Fine, then. I never met her,” he snaps “She died in childbirth or she got hit by a truck or she got abducted by the fucking goblin king or something. Do you like that story better?”

His date clenches their jaw and he almost wonders if they’re going hit him before they fire the next question.

“Dad, then?”

“Porn star,” Cass smirks “Suuuuper famous one”

“You’re being an asshole,” they say, and there’s a little bit of hurt there now. Cass can feel an apology sitting under his tongue, ready for him to use if he wants, but it tastes bitter and the interrogation is putting him in a shit mood so he swallows it and shrugs again.

“I don’t like talking family”

His date scoffs, and Cass vaguely registers the way their hands are curling into fists around the sheet, the way their breath has shifted low and heavy the way people do when they’re trying to decide if they’re gonna slap you or not.

“Alright then,” they try again, shifting tacts “Where’d you go to school?”

“I didn’t”

“Piss off, I’ve seen you debate socialist theory tweaked to hell. You went to school”

Cass grunts, “Fine. I was homeschooled, then”

“By your porn star dad?”

“Yeah,” he drawls, feeling mean and petty as he lets his eyes slide down their body “He taught me pretty well don’t you think?”

Their flinch backwards is so tiny it’s almost non existent. But it’s there.

“That’s not funny,” they whisper

“Not if it’s true, no”

There’s a second, a moment, half a moment where they nearly believe him. Cass watches pity turn to rage as they decide they’re not going to.

“Siblings?”

A sharp intake of breath. Huff of laughter to disguise it. Cass smiles like his mouth isn’t full of glass.

“I’m done talking about this. Are we gonna fuck or not?” he says. His date smiles victory.

“That’s a yes then. Brother or sister?”

“I said I’m done talking about it”

“Younger or older?”

“Drop it”

“Or were you the middle child?”

“Fucking leave it”

“Is that why you don’t like talking about your family? Did mummy and daddy forget about you?”

“I said drop it, Henri!”

Everything stops.

Cass slams his jaw shut and his eyes closed and his heart stops beating but the name has already left his mouth and the air between them is frozen and on fire both at once.

He hears his date scoff.

Probably fair enough.

Now would be a really, really good time to remember their name.

“Henri, huh?” they mumble. Cass doesn’t open his eyes “That your brother? Or your ex?”

Cass lets all of the air out of his lungs in a low, burning exhale.

“I’m leaving,” he mutters, reaching for his shirt. He doesn’t look at his date’s face. He can see their fists curling and uncurling in the sheets again. They’d feel better if they hit him. He knows they would.

For a second he thinks about suggesting it.

“Is anything you’ve told me about yourself true?” they growl at him as he finds his socks

“Probably not”

He doesn’t need to look at them to know that they’re shaking with anger and hurt and embarrassment.

“Is Harley even your real name?”

Cass snorts a laugh as he pulls on his shoes. He’d forgotten he told them that.

“Nope,” he says. It’d seemed funny when he was high as fuck and chatting up a stranger in a club six weeks ago. It doesn’t really feel funny anymore.

“You’re not even gonna say sorry, are you?”

Cass doesn’t look at them. Doesn’t acknowledge the tears clogging up their voice, snagging in their throat. He claws around for his phone.

“Nope”

He doesn’t listen to them sniffing. Doesn’t see them wiping at their face with a rough, angry hand. He’s glad, actually, that he can’t remember their name. Not his fucking fault they caught feelings.

Cass pulls on his jacket with one hand and grabs his bag with the other as he makes for the exit.

“You’re a fucking cunt, do you know that?”

Cass pauses for a moment, halfway out the door. He gives his date one last once-over. Then a tight grin, a tiny salute.

“Yep.”

#emotional whump #past trauma #implied abuse #a disastrous boy and his disastrous feelings #this is a game I like to call #how many drabbles can nell write around narrative details without ever having to like actually write narrative details #my followers can have a little bit of plot. a little bit of world building.#as a treat #cassius #drugs cw

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ahtohallan-calling · 4 years

Text

chapter 8 of don’t read the last page is here!

[kristanna / m / multichap / modern au with actress!anna and vetstudent!kristoff]

this is another chapter where you gotta click through to ao3 to see the whole thing ;), but here on tumblr it’s all t-rated

“People who are fine don’t sort out other people’s kitchens at three in the morning.”

“I just wanted to help,” she said, her voice small, and a little frown appeared on his forehead.

chapter 8: firsts

Anna was getting antsy.

Filming had wrapped way back at the beginning of July; there was a lull now until the trailer would be released at the beginning of October, and then slowly interviews would trickle in, talk show appearances if she was lucky; then the movie would drop, and if it went well she’d probably get offers of other jobs or at minimum asked to be on more shows, and if it failed-- well. She’d taken a good, hard look at her options back in May after the tampon commercial had first come out, when she’d had to wonder if going semi-viral on Twitter was the height of her stardom. The company wanted her back, wanted to make a whole series of ads featuring her and capitalizing on the traction the first commercial had gotten, but she had her limits.

She’d asked Sven semi-casually what it took to be a bank teller and quickly scratched that off her list; she’d never had a head for numbers. The only math classes she’d ever done well in were the ones in high school where she got to sit beside Kristoff and pass him notes asking for help, so that ruled out most of the jobs Google said were easy to get into. She could go back for a master’s in teaching and try to be a drama teacher, but while she’d played a very good Anna Leonowens in a community theater production of The King and I, she’d never really had a knack for actual teaching of any kind. There was always starting from scratch in college, but even the thought sent a shudder down her spine.

She’d waitressed her way through college and done well enough at it; maybe she’d do the opposite of the old stereotype and be an actress before waiting tables.

As much as she’d tried to hide her worries from her sister, Elsa had taken notice of the fact that Anna’s room-- and, in fact, the whole apartment-- was suddenly much cleaner than normal. “You don’t have to hang around here all day,” Elsa had said one night as they sat down to dinner together. “And you know you can talk to me if you’re feeling stressed, right?”

“But I don’t hang around here all day,” Anna protested, and it was true. It was just that there was so much time to fill now that Kristoff was at school or work most of the time, and Honey was working on two different sets at once, and Elsa and Sven had real grown-up jobs, and her friends from college in the area had, by and large, moved on to 9-to-5s as well. So she spent her mornings tidying the apartment, scrolling through casting calls, going on long runs, checking the audition postings once again just in case-- and then she’d look at the clock and see it was only eleven and feel a sense of dread rising in her, settling a little more heavily on her heart every day.

She tried not to burden Kristoff with it; she’d taken the once-seemingly endless days full of pillow talk and lazy kisses and picnics on the living room floor for granted, and now when she saw him he was usually only awake for a couple of hours at a time, and even then he was always studying or trying to catch up on errands or just too exhausted to do anything but hold her.

He’d tried to apologize for it once at the beginning when he’d accidentally dozed off mid-conversation as they sat together on the sofa, but Anna had shaken her head and shushed him before he could even finish saying “sorry”.

“Look at me, Kris,” she’d said, cupping his jaw in her hands. “I don’t ever want you to feel like you have to apologize to me for working hard.”

“I just feel bad,” he had replied, eyebrows pulling together in a frown. “I want to take you out and stuff like you deserve, but here I am falling asleep before you can even finish telling me about your day. I’m really sorry, Anna, you deserve better and--”

She had leaned in and kissed him, not pulling away until he relaxed against her. “Don’t say that, baby,” she’d said, and he’d sucked in a little breath; she hadn’t called him that before. “You’re the best thing in my life.”

And I love you, she’d been tempted to add, especially when he’d tugged her onto his lap and started kissing his way up her neck, the way that made her clutch at his shirt and moan his name every time, but then he’d reached her mouth, and she figured maybe she’d just show him instead of saying it out loud.

But by the end of September, with the trailer’s release only a week away, she was beginning to reach a breaking point; it wasn’t anyone’s fault but her own for picking such a useless job with so much downtime when you weren’t good enough at it to stay booked, which she apparently wasn’t. It was a Saturday night, and Kristoff had a rare day off on Sunday, and they’d made plans to go out for brunch in the morning before driving up to a stretch of coastline Kristoff had assured her was deserted, with a crooked little smile that sent shivers up her spine.

He was asleep next to her now in his bed; she had been nestled against him, her nose buried in the crook of his neck, but no matter how many deep breaths she took, sleep continued to evade her, and so she had rolled away, careful not to disturb him.

She was tempted to reach out and trace her fingers over the lines of his face, set her palm on his cheek and lean in to kiss him, but he looked so peaceful, without even the trace of a frown for the first time in weeks, that it made something in her chest ache, and so she slipped out of bed and tiptoed into the hall.

She wasn’t sure what she was going to do at first; Sven was away at some conference, so at least she didn’t have to worry about waking him. She considered flicking the TV on and watching late-night cop shows on mute and making up her own dialogues the way she and Elsa had done when they were kids first learning to rebel in their own little ways. But she’d been doing stupid, inane things like that for so long, just trying to pass the time; she felt utterly useless, so much so that she was starting to feel an itch deep in her bones, a desperation to do something, anything that made her feel like she was contributing to the world around her.

Her eyes lighted on the kitchen, an idea sparking in her mind; she knew Sven and Kristoff both liked to cook, so the cabinets were overflowing, but neither of them really had much patience for organization, and so half the time they spent in the kitchen was wasted shuffling through drawers and shelves and making an even bigger mess. Maybe she was a washed up has-been (more like never-was) at twenty-four and maybe her boyfriend was a hero who would save tons of baby animals someday, but by god, at least she could do this.

She started with the bottom shelves in the cabinets, thinking maybe she’d just straighten those out and crawl back into bed, but then she realized that being taller than five foot three meant you could actually make use of the rest of the space, and so she crawled onto the counter and started pulling everything out; if she was going to do this, she should at least do it well.

She had the top two shelves alphabetized in both cabinets and was working on the lower ones— that was the hard part, these she had sorted by usefulness and had had to consider what someone who actually knew how to cook would use— when he heard footsteps coming up the hall.

She kept her focus on the little piles around her, hoping Kristoff would just go to the bathroom and crawl back to bed; he’d been exhausted enough that he probably wouldn’t even notice she wasn’t there with him.

She realized it was fruitless when she heard his footsteps on the linoleum and heard a heavy sigh. “Anna, what the hell are you doing?”

She slipped the rosemary next to the garlic salt; probably those got used in the same thing anyway. Right? “Couldn’t sleep. Figured I might as well start pulling my weight around here since I basically live here half the time.”

“Come back to bed.”

She bit her lip and ignored him, turning back to the trickiest little pile: one of them— Sven, most likely— apparently had a penchant for collecting different colors of salt, and she had no idea what any of them did.

“Anna.”

He had come up behind her now and put his hand on her back; she turned at last to look at him and met his confused gaze for only a moment before ducking away again. “I‘ll redo it if you don’t like it.”

He just stood there for a long moment, wearing only his boxers and his glasses; they hung just barely lopsided, one of the arms caught up on a little snarl in his sleep-mussed hair. “It’s three in the morning.”

“Well, I really didn’t do anything all day, so—“

“Anna. You need to sleep. You’re going to be too tired to do anything tomorrow, and we’ve been planning this all week.”

“I’m fine,” she huffed out a little more forcefully than she had meant to and turned quickly back to the cabinet to hide the tears of shame that sprung up almost immediately in her eyes.

“Fine,” he said after a stunned moment of silence. “Fine. Then I’ll wait up for you until you’re ready to tell me what’s really going on.”

“But you worked all day, you’re—“

“I’m fine,” he said, and though he didn’t raise his voice, the words still stung. Wasn’t that why she was doing this, trying to make his life a little bit easier, and here she was just—

No, a nasty, stubborn little voice whispered in the back of her mind. He doesn’t mean it. He’ll sit up for a minute and then go back to bed, and then in the morning he’ll thank you for helping him out so much, tell you he’s relieved you finally fucking did something, you useless sack of shit.

She turned back to her shelving with renewed vigor, lining each cap up nearly until the cabinets were filled with perfectly organized, colorful rows of plastic and glass, as cheerful as any supermarket display.

But somehow, she didn’t feel any better.

She dared to peek over her shoulder; Kristoff was still there, sitting on the couch and watching infomercials in a bid to stay awake. As she watched, his head began to loll to the side; he suddenly pinched his own wrist and jolted upright again.

Suddenly she couldn’t get down and back over to him fast enough. She started to clamber onto his lap out of habit, but then he turned and looked to her with such exhaustion in her eyes she sat next to him instead, pulling her knees up to her chest and hugging them tightly.

“You need sleep, Kris,” she said, doing her best to keep that stupid little wobble out of her voice.

“Not as much as I need to know you’re okay.”

The words nearly knocked the wind out of her. “I— I— really, I’m fine.”

“People who are fine don’t sort out other people’s kitchens at three in the morning.”

“I just wanted to help,” she said, her voice small, and a little frown appeared on his forehead.

“Help with...what?”

“Just— stuff. I’m— I’m sorry I woke you up, really, but I promise it’s not important, we can talk about it in the morning if you—“

“Anna, baby, I’m not even gonna be able to sleep until I know what the fuck is going on. You’re scaring me,” he said, and suddenly she was crying and he was leaning over and pulling her into his arms and rocking her like she was a child as she sobbed into his bare shoulder.

“I didn’t mean to start a fight with you,” she choked out.

“Is this a fight?” he asked, sounding genuinely worried.

“I don’t know. I don’t want it to be.”

“Okay,” he said, kissing her forehead, “it’s not a fight. But please, please just tell me what’s wrong.”

She took a deep, shuddering breath. “I— I just feel so useless, I just— since I finished the movie I just sit around all day waiting for something to happen while you’re working so hard at school and the café, and Elsa works too and so does everyone else, and you’re all good at what you do and— and you help people, and like you’re gonna take care of animals and stuff and meanwhile my job is just standing around saying the same thing over and over again in front of a camera and I just— I just…”

She trailed off, struggling to put it all into words in a way that didn’t make her feel even more pathetic. “I just...I couldn’t sleep because I felt so useless. I wanted to do something to help you instead of just wasting even more time, because you work so hard and you’re so exhausted and— and now I’m just making everything worse, and I’m so, so sorry.”

He was quiet for a long time, long enough that the tears on her cheeks had dried; still he held her close. She had shifted to sit beside him, her legs thrown over his lap as she leaned against his shoulder; he had one arm thrown over her, keeping her tucked against him, and she held his other hand in both of her own, endlessly tracing the lines of his palm.

“Have I done anything,” he asked at last, his voice unsure, “to make you feel like this?”

“No. Never. None of you, it’s— it’s just me being stupid.”

He was quiet again for a moment. When he spoke again it was slowly, like he was terrified he would say the wrong thing.

“You’re not stupid, Anna. Or useless. This is just— this is part of life sometimes. The, like, in between shit. I don’t know. And I don’t— I don’t know what I can do to make it better. But I...care about you, whether you’ve got a part you’re doing at the moment or not. And if you decide this is too much and you wanna try another job, then I’m here for you. And if you stick with it, then I’m here for you, too. I just— I don’t know. I really don’t. I don’t think any of that even helped.”

“It did,” she said quickly, tears threatening to spill over again. “It does— I’m so sorry, Kris, really, that I woke you up for this.”

“It’s okay. I’m glad you did if it meant getting it out of your system. Just— do me a favor?”

“Anything. God, I owe you lots of them, I feel like I’m always the one having a crisis and you’re—“

He put a gentle finger over her lips. “Two favors. One, stop being so hard on yourself, okay? You’ve been going through a lot of new stuff this year. It’s okay to freak out about it sometimes. And two—“

He kissed the tip of her nose, the way that always made her crack a smile, even now. “Please just tell me next time something is upsetting you instead of holding it in. Preferably at a reasonable hour of the day, yeah?”

She nodded sheepishly. “I will. I promise. Will you— will you please go back to bed now? I’m worried about you.”

“Will you go with me?”

She nodded again, and then suddenly he was scooping her up bridal style and carrying her back to bed. He laid her down gently and pulled the sheets over her shoulders before crawling in himself, pulling her back against his chest and draping his arm over her waist.

“Good night, Kris,” she whispered, lacing her fingers through his.

“Good night, Anna.”

---

They decided to forgo going out for brunch; neither of them really felt like talking to other people today, even for a moment. She had nearly forgotten what it felt like to have a whole day to just themselves, hour and hours at a stretch to be spent holding and being held and trading little whispered secrets and promises and praise, each sweet word paired with a kiss or caress or little silly sigh. She was drunk on Kristoff and the dark of his eyes and the heat of his hands and the press of his lips, soaked in love as if it were honey, so much so that she felt heavy with it sometimes, like all of it was constantly on the verge of spilling out and sweeping her away, and god, still every day it kept growing in her, filling her chest with so much warmth it felt like she had swallowed a star; she wondered sometimes if people could see it, if they knew. Kristoff had to, she thought, had to see it in her eyes and know she adored him, could probably see it now as she came into the kitchen and perched on the edge of the counter as had become her habit, swinging her legs and watching him make a batch of pancakes with those quick, clever hands that always knew exactly how she needed to be touched.

He smiled softly in greeting as he poured batter into the pan and came over to her the moment he was finished, wrapping his arms around her waist and tucking his chin over her shoulder. Her heart did a funny little flip when she noticed the ends of his hair were still damp, falling into slight curls; she ran her hands through them, feeling a sudden deep sense of contentment.

“You know,” Kristoff said playfully, his arms tightening slightly around her middle, “it was a lot easier to mix these up now that I knew where to find the vanilla.”

“I love you,” she said, the words popping out in response like they just couldn’t be kept in any more. “Kind of a lot, actually.”

His fingers had been tracing idle circles on her back, but they stilled suddenly; she heard him suck in a breath and hold it. She bit her lip, too nervous to break the silence, as if she stood on some great precipice and even the carelessly blown breath of a misspoken word might be enough to send her tumbling over the edge.

“Say it again,” he whispered, his fingers curling into the back of her shirt-- his shirt, really, another one she’d stolen from his drawer, coveting any opportunity to be close to him even in the smallest of ways.

Anna turned her head and kissed his temple. “I love you, Kristoff Bjorgman. And I think that pancake is going to burn.”

“Forget the pancake,” he breathed, pulling back so he could look at her, wonder in his eyes. “I-- you-- do you mean it?”

She nodded, feeling her heart begin to pound, so hard she could have sworn she could hear it, and he let out a sudden whoop of joy, surging forward to hug her again and pull her close to his chest, lifting her straight off the counter. Anna let out a gasp of surprise and fisted her hands in his shirt instinctively, her legs wrapping around his waist just in time.

“I love you, too,” he said, and she was suddenly glad he was holding her because otherwise she might have fainted and fallen to the floor at the sound of it. “I love you so much, Anna, I-- I just--”

The smoke alarm began to go off. He turned quickly to the stove and then froze, unsure what to do with his hands otherwise occupied; Anna, luckily, had the sense to snatch the handle of the pan and slide it over into the sink, which, thanks to Kristoff’s habit of washing as he cooked, was already full of soapy water.

The incessant beeping stopped after a moment, and they both let out a sigh of relief; Kristoff’s arms loosened around her, though he still held her close to his chest, and Anna realized he had been holding on to her so tightly it was starting to hurt, as if his first instinct in a moment of potential danger had been to protect her in whatever way he could. She cupped his jaw in her hands and leaned down to kiss his forehead.

“That’s not how I really imagined that would go,” he muttered, a flush beginning to creep over his cheeks. “The, uh, the making you breakfast thing. And the telling you I loved you part, too.”

Anna laughed and patted his shoulder as he set her back on the ground. “We can say it again and pretend it’s the first time.”

“No,” he said with a lopsided grin, “no, I-- I was so worried about saying it first and whether or not you’d say it back or whatever, and now...I guess it’s a relief to know I can tell you whenever I want.”

“Tell me what?” she said sweetly, batting her eyelashes.

“That I love you. So much. And that I’m so glad you love me, even when I burn your breakfast.”

“And I’m glad you love me even when I ransack your kitchen at three in the morning.”

He leaned down and kissed her then, his fingers just barely cupping her cheek, and his lips were so tender against hers she almost thought she would cry, but instead she kissed him back, knowing that this would be a moment she would treasure for a long, long time.

They broke apart only when her stomach growled in protest; Kristoff blushed again as he looked down at her. “Oh, fuck, I really am sorry about breakfast.”

“That’s okay. There’s always McDonald’s.”

Anna had just opened her mouth to ask if he still loved McGriddles even though they were disgusting when her phone went off on the table behind her. Kristoff recognized the ringtone by now, the one that she hadn’t been hearing enough lately. “It’s your agent— get it, I’ll grab our stuff.”

She scrambled for the phone. “Hey Sam— yeah— good morning to you too. What’s going on?”

She listened to his hurried explanation in stunned silence, feeling her breath speed up with every word. When at last Sam asked what she thought, she hardly knew where to begin.

“I— you’re serious, they want me?”

“Yes. They’ve been looking everywhere, heard about the Netflix movie, pulled some strings and saw the first edit and called me this morning insisting they want to see you by the end of the week.”

“I— and it’s seriously for, like— for—“

“Seriously, Anna,” he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. “Come by my office tomorrow, and I’ll get you everything you need for the audition, okay? Proud of you, kid. I know you’ll nail it.”

She set the phone down, her mind reeling. “Is everything okay?” Kristoff asked, sounding suddenly far away.

She turned to face him, her voice unsteady. “I— I don’t have it yet— but they— they want me for a part, Kris. A big one.”

#there is.....a lot in this chapter lol #and i still had to cut stuff lmfao #(it's only 4kish words but still like. whew)#my fics #drtlp

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bucklesomeswashswan · 4 years

Text

At the Beginning (5/11)

Once Upon a December Sequel

Thank you! Thank you a million times for everyone who read and responded to the last chapter! You put a smile on my face each and every day!

This chapter has one of the first scenes that came to me for this story, and one of the reasons I wanted to write a full sequel. Hope you enjoy it!

Captain Swan Steampunk Anastasia AU Summary: Emma might have thought her troubles were over after she defeated Gold, the leader of the Industrialists. But not everything is as it seems and Misthaven is in danger. Mysterious new faces and gangs lurk in the shadows as Misthaven struggles to find its footing in the power vacuum left behind when the Industrialists fell. Time is running out to regain control and alliances form and crumble as the betrayals come from those closer and closer to Emma. Will she be able to have the life she always wanted with her family and Killian or will the secrets from the past tear apart everything she thought she knew?

Rated M AO3 Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 Start over with Once Upon a December [AO3]

Chapter 5: When the Storm is Through

Emma woke to the feeling of pale sunlight blanketing over her and soft lips brushing against her bare back. She smiled into the pillow, squeezing her eyes shut.

Killian’s hand brushed her lower back as his nose traced up her spine. She felt his warm breath as he sighed against her, his forehead resting between her shoulder blades.

She squinted one eye open looking back over her shoulder to the messy black hair falling over her skin. “Killian?” she whispered.

“Shh,” he murmured into her skin, “If we don’t make a sound, maybe the world will forget to wake up.”

As if in answer to that thought there was a clatter on the street outside, the sound of hooves across the cobblestones. He groaned, letting out another sigh.

He pressed a last kiss into her skin before pulling away. She half expected him to try to initiate another round of last night’s activities, but instead he said something even better.

“You want some breakfast?” he asked.

She rolled over, pulling the sheet with her, meeting his gaze. “Yes,” she said, the word almost a moan. “I’m starving.”

Suddenly she frowned and leaned up on her elbows, a thought striking her. “Wait, you haven’t been here in months. How can you have food? Are we going to have stale crackers and dry beans?”

His eyes skimmed over her like a touch, making her very aware of the thin sheet that was all that was between them. “Look who’s getting awfully entitled now that they’re a princess,” he said with mock indignation.

She reached out to swat at him.

He chuckled, dodging her hand. “Don’t worry, love, there’s a bakery up the street.”

It was such an incredibly normal sentence. She was struck again by how the city was familiar and natural to him. He lived here, knew the bakeries, knew the people. She had been given a country by birthright that felt foreign to her and she wanted so badly to see it through his eyes. The way he knew it.

“Any specific requests?” He asked her, an eyebrow arching up.

She bit her lip thinking. “Hmmm, cheese pastry.”

He leaned forward his fingers tangling in the sheet, it slipped an inch down her.

“Cheese pastry,” he repeated, placing a kiss on her abdomen over the sheet.

“And apple turnovers,” she said.

The sheet slipped another couple inches. “Mmmm,” he murmured, placing a kiss at the base of her ribs.

“Eggs and bacon.”

He shook his head against her as the sheet slipped over her breasts. “I’m not sure they have that.”

“Fresh strawberries.”

“It’s the middle of winter, love,” he said, the words a little muffled against her skin.

“Any kind of fruit.”

He placed a kiss over her heart. “I’ll see what I can do.”

The last kiss he placed on her lips. Her hands came up to hold him there, but too soon he pulled away.

“I’ll be right back,” he told her. “You won’t even miss me.”

She watched him move about the room pulling on clothes, a light blush colored her cheeks thinking of the reason they had gotten so scattered. She loved when he got desperate, his usual calm and collected demeanor gone, his skilled fingers hasty.

Knowing exactly what she was doing she leaned back on the soft pillows, stretching languidly, the sheet still around her hips. She saw him glance back at her from the doorway, the way he froze, the words dying on his lips, his eyes wide. It seemed an effort for him to make himself turn and leave the room.

Emma bit her lip, breathing a laugh into her hand. She’d never get used to the way Killian made her beautiful.

She heard the front door downstairs close behind him. After a moment of quiet she looked around the room, morning chasing away the shadows in the corners.

She rolled off the bed and pulled on Killian’s shirt from the night before, the fabric soft and worn. Her bare legs were a little cold now that the fire had burned out. She sank back onto the soft mattress, comfortable. She wondered if they would spend a thousand winter days like this, just the two of them.

Or maybe not alone…the thought was so dangerous and one that she had never really entertained. She imagined a quiet home and the patter of small feet. A family like she had wished for every night, full of love, and always there. It wasn’t even something she truly wanted right now, with everything so turbulent around them, but maybe after things stabilized. It was a glimmer of a future she’d never fully allowed herself to imagine before. She’d never met anyone she had wanted to consider more with, but now...

As if her thoughts had conjured him, Killian pushed open the bedroom door with a couple paper bags in his hand. There was a dusting of snow on his jacket and melting into his hair. He caught sight of her on the bed in his shirt and his smile was like the morning sun, waking in her all the possibilities. And she felt herself fall just a little more in love with him.

He dumped their loot between them, rattling off all the treats he’d brought. She barely waited for him to finish before reaching for the bear claw in the center. The sweet pastry and honey made her eyes fall closed in bliss. Killian was making quick work of one of the cheese danishes. He chuckled at her expression as she licked thick sugar off her fingers, utterly content.

They ate through a frankly alarming amount of sweets and pastries. Teasing and talking about nothing. This was what lazy mornings should be like: muted sunshine, easy laughs, unmade bed, and crumbs on the sheets.

“The snow is starting to accumulate out there,” he told her. “That storm is picking up.”

She glanced toward the grey clouds out the window, the snow in the air.

“Maybe we’ll be snowed in,” she said in a teasing tone. “We’ll have to think of lots of ways to spend the time.”

His answering frown surprised her, he didn’t rise to the bait.

She sat up straighter. “What is it?”

“As lovely as that sounds,” he said, pulling a piece of paper from his jacket. “There’s something else I have to do today. This was slipped under the door, it’s from Agatha.”

“What’s it say?”

“I need to go speak with her,” he said. He glanced from the paper to her. “You should stay here though.”

She crossed her arms. “Why? I can go with you.”

He shook his head. “Not this time, Emma.”

She held his gaze steadily. “You don’t need to protect me.”

“I know.”

“But?”

His expression almost begged her not to pick this fight. “But,” he said slowly, “There are dangerous people here who don’t support your family. We don’t know how to harness your magic, or even how powerful it is. We can’t act like you’re invincible when really it’s unpredictable. I'm not willing to risk anything we don’t have to.”

“You let me go with you last night,” she reminded him. “You didn’t care that they saw us together.”

He looked away. She wondered if he regretted it.

She didn’t want another fight, but if they never talked about what was bothering them then they’d only drift apart again.

She took a deep breath.

“I know you’re still upset that I went to the city with August, but I didn’t choose him over you. You were already gone and I can’t explain it, but there was something calling me to the castle. I needed to see it again for myself.”

“I’m not upset about August,” he said softly. “I was terrified when I heard you were with that witch from the Dark Palace.”

“Witch?” she repeated in surprise, it felt like cold water had been dumped over her. “Her name’s Regina and I think she might actually be able to help me.”

His hand rubbed over his face. “She’s dangerous. She’s a killer.”

“She understands magic.”

“Dark magic, Emma,” he said. “She understands dark magic. It poisons, corrupts, and destroys. I don’t trust her.”

His tone was so final. She picked at the hem of his shirt.

“Do you trust me?” she asked him, not looking at him.

“Yes,” he said at once. His eyes moved over her face. “Of course I trust you.”

“Then promise me we won’t judge her too quickly.”

He seemed to struggle against that request. She could tell it was warring against his instincts.

At last he nodded. A small gesture but one she knew he’d have never done if anyone else had asked. She knew exactly how much it meant.

“Thank you.”

“Will you do something for me too?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Let me do this alone today.”

She wanted to protest but this was how it was meant to work. Compromise. It felt like finally they weren’t keeping so many secrets from each other.

It was another step, hard won. She had to believe it would make them stronger.

He looked over at the worn clock on the mantel. “I should go,” he said. “Make yourself at home.”

She liked the way that sounded. Home.

“Like this?” she asked, pulling at the fabric of his shirt she was wearing. “Try all your things?”

He leaned forward. “Just like that,” he murmured against her lips.

His kiss was soft and sweet. An apology. A promise they’d talk more later. Do many things later.

For a moment she almost asked him to stay. To forget the world outside. But he drew away and pulled his heavy coat back on and left.

She fell back onto the pillows staring at the ceiling, tracing the cracks in the old paint. She pondered the day stretching out before her, boredom creeping in, it almost felt like a luxury greater than gems. She couldn’t remember the last time she had a day all to herself when no one was expecting anything from her.

Her fingers drew lazy patterns into the sheets around her as she remembered their night. The feeling of dancing pressed against him, the wild energy of the catacombs. She had never dreamed such a place existed. The surprise of seeing Killian’s home. Butterflies fluttered within her again as she thought about his lips on her, the desire that flared even now as she thought about him under her, the firm grip of his fingers on her.

Suddenly it felt like an eternity until Killian would return. She couldn’t just lay in this bed missing him, wanting him. She had half a mind to race after him and ravage him in some secluded back street. But she had promised to let him go alone.

Determined to remain true to her word she explored the room a little more, trying to take in any new details about Killian, any new secrets she hadn’t learned yet. She loved the way it felt familiar, the home of an old friend. It felt like being back at the castle had, like she had found a part of herself she had forgotten, hadn’t realized was missing.

She walked over to the window in the corner. There was a small window seat beneath the sill. She climbed up folding herself into the spot looking out at the view. The way the thick snowflakes fell outside the glass.

She knew at once why Killian and Ruby had chosen this place, it hadn’t looked like much from the outside, but the view from here was priceless. The city spread out before her blanketed in a layer of white sparkling snow. The sloping roofs, small patches of the canals visible through the gaps between buildings, and up on the hill was the crumbling ruin of the castle. She paused staring at it.

She wondered how many times Killian had sat here looking up at its silhouette against the sky.

She wondered if he had ever thought of that night years ago. If he’d ever remembered her. If she had ever crossed his mind as he looked out over the city and the castle.

She thought of his words just now. He was right, she didn’t know how powerful her magic was. And she’d be a liability until she knew how to use it.

As relaxing as lying around reading Killian’s books and snacking on leftover dates and apples from breakfast sounded, as she looked out at the castle a new plan formed. Regina might be in the castle right now. So close. She didn’t know when she’d be in the city again. She doubted Regina made house calls. And she had no idea how long Killian would be, but she’d probably be gone and back before he returned.

With her mind made up, she gathered up her clothes from the floor. But she frowned as she held up the leather bodice, thinking of her bare arms last night. She glanced again at the thick snow falling. She had known what she was doing when she chose them, but despite the lovely effect these clothes had had on Killian, they weren’t really winter attire.

She glanced around his room for other options, her eyes landing on the dresser in the corner. She knew his clothes would be too big, the shirt she was wearing now was proof of that. It hung loose and baggy enough to slip right off of her. And while that seemed ideal for a day spent in bed with Killian, she wasn’t sure the streets of the city were ready for that kind of scandal.

But even if she looked hard enough, did she actually want to find another woman’s clothes in his things? She didn’t have illusions that she was the first, hell, you didn’t do the things he did without a little practice. But that didn’t mean she wanted to see the concrete proof, or that she’d even be willing to wear anything she found.

Her eyes moved to the open doorway and the hall beyond. Ruby. She’d forgotten.

Emma moved out to the landing and the narrow door at the other end. She almost knocked just to be polite, even knowing Ruby wasn’t inside. She gently turned the knob and stepped inside.

Ruby’s room was different from Killian’s. Tucked under the sloping roof, it felt like a cozy den. And while Killian had surrounded himself with sentimental items and books filled with adventures, Ruby’s room was filled with bits of luxury she had scraped together for herself. The plush pillows and comforter piled on her bed. The thick velvet curtains hanging beside the windows. A set of polished silver candlesticks. A stack of gold bangles on a table with bottles of perfume and rose water. Bits of makeup sat beside a mirror in a thick scrolling frame.

And Emma understood it immediately, Ruby had not been trying to emulate some life she had lost, she was proving to herself that she didn’t have to be the girl the world would try to see her as. She might have lost everything but she wouldn’t be held down forever. And she would get to decide everything she was and had.

Emma moved to the closet door that was propped open with a pair of black leather boots. The bedroom had only slightly prepared her for Ruby’s closet. The tiny room was filled to bursting with clothes in rich reds, purples, and blacks. Not the lace and silk and tulle that filled Emma’s armoire in the palace. This was thick wool, printed velvet, and leather. Warm and grounded but elegant. Emma smiled. Very like the girl they belonged to.

She found a blouse of soft cotton and lined leggings to wear under her skirt. She let her hands run lazily over the textures of Ruby’s many cloaks before at last settling on a thick black one. It wasn’t as much of a statement as the bright red cloak Ruby typically favored, but it was beautiful in its own way.

“Thanks, Ruby,” she whispered to the room as she took her finds back across the hall.

It took a few minutes to pull on all her layers. She laced her boots and braced for the cold outside these warm walls.

~*~

Ruby ran her hand along the rough walls as she wandered through the second story gallery of the factory. She was searching for secret corners and listening for bits of conversations between the other Lost Boys. Anything that would give her information about what they did here, what Peter’s plan was.

He'd found her early this morning, bringing her into his office, no whiskey this time. He'd asked her about the King and Queen, and Emma: their relationship, their history. Peter was poking at the royal family looking for weakness. Ruby told him about Emma's desire to be a part of her family, the way she was trying so hard to make them proud. And Emma was their source of hope. She was the glue holding them together.

"Give me something that would break her then," Peter had said, his words like a hiss.

Ruby had stared at him, wondering how a person got to such a place, where people were obstacles to be destroyed.

She knew the easy answer to his request: Killian. She knew Emma would do anything to protect him, she'd seen it first hand. But she'd sooner tear herself apart than give Peter any reason to hurt Killian or Emma.

"Don't underestimate her," Ruby had told him seriously, meeting his eyes. "She's been fighting her whole life and she's got the strongest natural magic I've ever heard of."

He seemed to consider her words. "Then we don't fight her head on. Not without something equally powerful or impervious to magic."

He didn't elaborate, and he'd dismissed her soon after. Getting rid of her as soon as her usefulness ran out. She was just another pawn on his chessboard. A game too complicated for her to understand the scope of.

She ran through his words over and over. Trying to find their true meaning. Something to break her. We won't fight her head on. Something impervious to magic.

Footsteps echoed on the steel floors behind her pulling her from her thoughts, and she glanced back to see Robin approaching.

She leaned against a wide window looking out over the narrow winding streets and waited for him to catch up.

“There you are,” he said. “I heard Peter was looking for you this morning.”

Ruby lifted a brow. “Jealous?”

“I was just worried…” he looked around to be sure they were alone. “Everyone's on edge. I don't want anything to happen to you.”

She gave him a smile. Every moment she was aware of the fact she was in enemy territory. One misstep from danger. She was out of her depth and losing ground. No matter how much Peter appeared to trust her, confided in her, he never gave her any useful information.

Having Robin here, a familiar face, was a huge comfort. They had to protect each other here. They'd promised as much last night when he'd given her Killian's message, warning them about Peter's history with Gold.

A flash of shadow down on the snowy street below the window caught her attention. She straightened and pushed back off the glass and leaned closer to the window, squinting through the falling snow.

“What is it?” Robin asked, moving to see what she’d seen.

“I thought I just saw… me,” Ruby said moving to the next window to get a better view.

“There,” she said pointing. “That’s definitely my cloak.”

“Your cloak?” he asked. “Were you robbed?”

She watched the figure in her cloak turn down the side street away from the factory disappearing from view. The pieces falling in place in Ruby’s mind as the figure's tracks were covered over with new snow.

“No,” she smirked. “It means Emma spent the night at our place.”

“Emma? Where’s she going?” Robin asked his eyes following the path the street took.

“You mean where’s she going alone,” Ruby said, already pulling on her gloves. “Let’s find out.”

“Ruby!” Robin said in a harsh whisper.

She turned back to him eyeing him up and down. “Are you not coming then?” she asked him.

He rolled his eyes with a long suffering sigh. “I guess someone’s got to make sure you don’t yourself killed.”

“Please,” she scoffed. “When have I ever gotten myself killed before?”

Robin didn’t seem to find that comment funny but she didn’t wait to see if he was following her. She slipped down the back stairs of the factory and out the back door. Robin was beside her even before the door had fully closed.

They found Emma easily enough. They knew shortcuts she didn’t. They strolled up the street, tailing her at a distance until she turned up the hill to the ruin of the castle.

“The castle?” Robin asked.

“She’s going to talk to the dark sorceress,” Ruby said, she should have figured it out sooner. She glanced back the way they had come wondering where the hell Killian was. He wouldn’t be thrilled with this plan. She wondered how Emma had slipped him.

“Bloody hell, why do I keep letting myself get into these situations for you lot?” Robin muttered beside her.

Ruby hurried up the slick cobblestones without answering. Honestly, she wasn’t sure why he stuck around either. Maybe he craved the adventure like she did.

She led the way through the broken battlements to the eastern wall and the small door tucked behind the tower. It was the entrance she always used with Killian. Hidden and long forgotten.

“This way,” she said to Robin as she slipped inside the cold, dark, silent castle.

Maybe she should have been ashamed that she knew the layout so well from countless times breaking in. A thousand petty crimes with Killian, sometimes to steal something to sell for food, sometimes for business, sometimes just to get out of the biting wind for a few hours. She spied the small room where she had cheated at poker with a few miscreants from South Bend, and she led Robin up the staircase she had slipped down when she was thirteen and twisted her ankle. Killian had carried her around for a week, and though he’d grumbled she knew he loved playing the chivalrous knight.

They passed the main hall, the ballroom still covered in ashes from the revolt, the half crumbling entryway. All around the place felt frozen in time, stuck in the moment the monarchy died day after day. This place was a tomb to memories and ideas from another time.

“Wait,” Robin said, grabbing her arm. “There’s something here.”

He pulled her into the old library. Unlike the rest of the abandoned castle, this room didn’t look as neglected. There were even a couple candles burning on the tables at the center of the room, a sure sign someone had been here recently.

Ruby studied the flame, the way the light flickered, the cone of black at the center. It was conjured false-fire. She remembered the smell of burning cloves and black center of the flames from when she’d seen it as a girl. A group of gypsies from the south performing in the square. Their brand of magic was as wild and wicked as they were, born from the dry air and desert rocks and burning sun from where they lived. Acrobats and fortune tellers, and fire eaters who could summon false-fire, flames dancing across their knuckles and lips. She remembered thinking they must have been descended from the dragons in her bedtime stories. They never returned after the revolt, driven off or smart enough to stay away, now they were just a story too.

Ruby looked carefully around for anyone who might be hiding among the stacks of heavy books covered in cobwebs. False-fire was a bit of dark magic and that meant the sorceress was here. She didn’t want any surprises, with only one door this room could easily become an ambush.

Robin shifted through some of the papers on the table, too new to have been from before the revolt.

“Help me look through this,” he said. “There may be something useful here.”

Ruby joined him and grabbed a stack of parchment and started skimming the endless writing for anything important.

“She’s been gathering information on anyone important in the city,” Robin murmured, shuffling through several pages.

Ruby glanced over. “What’d she write about me?”

Robin flipped over the last page. “Absolutely nothing.”

“That’s rude,” Ruby huffed.

Robin chuckled. “Well if you’ve got a pen I can write in some notes. Tall, brunette, smartass, spy.”

She rolled her eyes. “Perhaps leave that out while I’m on a top secret assignment. Don’t want to blow my cover.”

“And this is just an assignment?” he asked her.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked him, putting her hands on her hips.

“I know you like the thrill of the chase. You don’t sit by and just discuss action at a council table.”

Ruby paused. The words surprised her, cutting right down to her truth. “Maybe I’ve changed. Things are changing.”

She thought of the royal banners moving through the streets, the empty airship docks, the way Killian looked at Emma.

“People don’t change that much. People are predictable,” he told her. “Mulan told me she found you at the Central Station. That was always your favorite spot.”

She jerked at Mulan’s name, awkwardly turning back and becoming fascinated with the papers in front of her.

She felt Robin’s heavy gaze on her, dissecting her reaction. He’d always been a better poker player than she was.

“I had a feeling you two would get along,” he said. A loaded observation.

“Just making friends,” she shrugged.

“Sure, sure,” he said a smile in his tone. “You’ve always got a smooth answer for everything.”

“What do you know about her?” Ruby asked casually, turning over another sheet of parchment.

She saw his smirk but he didn’t tease her.

“She’s one of the good ones,” he said. “She appeared after Gold fell. Peter scooped up many people he felt would be assets.”

“You and her included,” she said.

He nodded.

“She’s got military experience that Peter wants. She fought in the Ogre Wars deep in the Enchanted Forest. They massacred her village. She’s seen real monsters, she’s not about to be taken for a fool by -”

“Wait,” Ruby said, cutting him off. “Look at this.”

She held out the bit of parchment that had caught her eye.

Robin studied the page. “Ingredients? Some kind of potion?”

“Valerian root, moonflower, nightshade,” Ruby said, pointing out a few items on the list. “It’s a sleeping potion. A curse.”

Ruby glanced again at the light of the false-fire. The dark magic core. The malice needed to create a sleeping curse.

“The sorceress could make this,” she told him.

“There’s more,” Robin said, pointing to the next piece of parchment. “She’s been monitoring the Royals’ movements. She knows all their plans.”

Ruby blew out a shaking breath. “She’s going to put the King and Queen under a sleeping curse,” she said.

Robin nodded. “She’s probably using Emma to get close to them.”

They both looked toward the door of the library to the rest of the castle where Emma was with the sorceress at that moment. She’d thought this could be an ambush, but it wasn’t a trap set for them.

~*~

“You’re not listening,” Regina scolded. “How am I supposed to teach someone who isn’t willing to learn?”

“I’m trying,” Emma said through gritted teeth as she stared at a small candle that would not light no matter how hard she tried. How could she have done so much powerful magic but not this?

“You need to focus, bend the magic to your will. Until now you’ve been throwing out random waves of magic, the power knocking over anything in its path, but some problems require precision. You lack control.

“Imagine what you are trying to achieve. See the flame, think about the light, the heat, the smell, the way it changes how the rest of the room looks. The ripples of every action.”

Emma stared at the candle but nothing happened.

Regina leaned back against the bookshelf on the wall. “You’re scared of your power aren’t you? You’re afraid to let any of it out, afraid of what you’ll unleash.”

“I’m not afraid,” Emma said stubbornly.

“Stop acting like a petulant child and listen,” she said. Emma shot her a glare. Regina continued, “Your fear will paralyze you. Magic cannot come from a place of fear. Fear makes you reactionary. Magic is not a reaction, it’s a decision. It has to come from a solid, grounded place within you. It has to come from an emotion more powerful than fear.”

Emma hated that there might be a little truth to it. She was afraid to open the lid on her power. When she tried to release the tight grip she had on the small place within her that she had pushed her magic down into, she saw the destroyed forest and she panicked.

“But you use dark magic,” Emma said. “Maybe it’s different?”

“It’s not.”

Emma looked at her flatly. “How would you know?”

“My magic used to be much like yours.”

Emma balked. “You had light magic?”

“Magic can evolve.”

Emma thought about the stories she knew. Merlin and Maleficent. Good wizards and Evil sorcerers. You were born with a proclivity for one or the other.

“But how can light magic just become dark?”

Regina walked over to one of the gas lamps. “Light and darkness are a balance.” She turned the knob and the flame sprang to life throwing out light so bright it was almost painful to look at. “The brighter the light, the darker the shadows it creates when it encounters an obstacle.” She held up her hand and a stark shadow appeared on the wall behind it. “Using light magic has the potential for great darkness. You must acknowledge the darkness too or you’ll never be able to truly control it, or understand the consequences.”

Regina sighed. “I wish I had known that at the beginning.”

Her words were heavy with a story Emma realized went much deeper than she’d thought. Everything about magic was more complicated and tangled than she’d imagined.

“What happened?”

Regina looked out the narrow window for a long moment. Emma could tell she was about to get to the secret she had sensed from the moment they met. Some truth that would explain everything.

“Emma, there are things you have to understand,” Regina said, and from anyone else that might have been condescending enough to ruffle her feathers but from Regina it just made her straighten in her chair, intent.

“Things were different, it was a different time,” Regina continued. “Magic was more prevalent, woven into our everyday lives. It wasn’t vilified. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t still mysterious or coveted. I discovered I had magic when I was twelve years old. I was riding in the back pasture when my horse spooked. She took off and tried to buck me off. I clung to her terrified. I was sure I was going to die. She galloped off blind with fear just running from some imagined danger. I couldn’t calm her or get her to slow down. We were headed right for the wall surrounding the pasture. A high stone wall with a deep ravine on the other side. I knew there was no way we would make the jump or survive the fall. I closed my eyes and tried with all my might to stop her, to save us. I felt weightless for a moment. I thought we had jumped and I waited for the impact. But it didn’t come. I opened my eyes and we were standing in the middle of the pasture. My horse was calmly grazing grass. It was like it had never happened. I might have even believed I had imagined the whole thing if my mother hadn’t seen it. She rushed out to me, pulled me down from the saddle, and held me tight.”

Emma knew all too well the fear and exhaustion that she had felt after using magic the first time. She knew the feeling of just wanting to be held and feel safe after it was over. Regina seemed to read her expression and she frowned.

“My mother was never a loving woman. She was practical, driven. As she held me I felt loved, the way a girl should feel in her mother’s arms. But then she pulled away with tears in her eyes and a smile on her lips. ‘We’re saved’ she said. I didn’t understand at the time. But my mother had seen an opportunity the moment my magic had saved me from disaster. She saw a way to elevate herself and crawl her way out of our humble life.”

“She wanted to use your magic for herself?” Emma asked.

Regina gave a slow shake of her head. “No, not for herself. She sold my magic to whoever would pay for it. I was trying to get used to the feeling of having magic and learn how to use it and my mother was demanding I use it for increasingly complex things, never worried about the cost or the strain.”

Emma knew exactly what Regina was describing; the restless feeling of new magic not quite harnessed or understood. At times it seemed to rage within her like a wildfire and at other times it slipped out of reach like water through her fingers. She tried to imagine going through all this with someone as ruthless as Regina’s mother pushing her past her limits.

“My mother made sure to spread the word of my abilities far and wide. It became more exaggeration than truth. People came to us claiming to have heard that I had done, things I had never dreamed of. Then my mother would look at me with that look and demand I make it so. Within a year we were summoned to the capital and the castle.”

“The castle?” Emma asked in surprise. “My family?”

Regina nodded. “King Leopold, your grandfather. He was very interested in what I could do. I wasn’t even allowed to be part of the conversation, my mother speaking for me, shuffling me from the room so I couldn’t contradict her. But whatever happened during those negotiations, the end result was my indenture to the king and my mother got an advantageous engagement to a wealthy lord. She didn’t even say goodbye before she left to go to his castle.”

“She left?”

“I never saw her again. I guess she got everything she wanted: position, wealth, connections. Well, perhaps until the revolt. Those early days of Industrialist control were not kind to the gentry. I never cared to find out what happened to her. She was never a mother to me.”

“What did King Leopold want your magic for?” Emma asked, already dreading the answer, but this was her family and she needed to know.

“It was small things at first. I would ensure favorable weather for the harvest and smooth sailing along the shipping routes. For a while that was enough to placate the king. He was delighted as the profits poured into his country and his coffers. It was a prosperous time. But it wasn’t long before the nearby kingdoms took notice. As Misthaven grew wealthy and powerful it also became a target. There were skirmishes on the borders and soon armies were massing against the King.”

Emma frowned at the similarity. The dark forces gathering against them, except this time it wasn’t neighboring kingdoms looking to get a share of the spoils, now it was vultures looking to pick clean the withered corpse of something that was once grand.

“Leopold was demanding I be a weapon to help him in his wars. We would travel to the front lines along the borders and I would tear out the hearts of rival commanders, pull air from the lungs of entire legions of infantry, and burn down camps to embers with alchemical fire. I left death and destruction in a smoldering wake behind us. In the end it helped us win the wars. The King was thrilled. But neither of us had anticipated what it would do to me and my magic.”

“Magic is a living thing. It has a soul that is both a part of you and something entirely separate. As I tapped into the darkness to bring about such evil and carnage it poisoned my magic and my heart. I could feel it blackening. At night the nightmares consumed me and during the day my hate haunted me, bleeding into my thoughts. I began to resent everything that had happened. I hated myself for letting this be done to me. I knew I couldn’t be a pawn any longer. I wasn’t going to be used for my magic.”

Emma looked up at Regina and felt like she was looking into a mirror. Used for her magic, Gold had it ripped from her and set to an evil use. For so long Emma had felt so completely alone but now hearing Regina’s story she felt like there might be someone who could truly understand. Someone who was like her.

“I ran away,” Regina continued. “I went to the deepest part of the forest and I built a castle. I poured every bit of malice and hurt into the very stones. I built a fortress to protect me from those who had wronged me. Even the forest around it twisted and grew thorns. Lakes turned to sulfur, boulders came alive as huge trolls and rotting corpses rose again as ogres. Eventually it crept through the forest to the villages at the edge of the wood. My knights guarded the shadows, crops turned to ash, the ogres flattened hovels. I didn’t stop it. I let them fear me. The Dark Palace they called it, a place fit for an evil sorceress. The one who could tear out hearts, the one who only brought death. If they wanted death I was more than willing to give it to any who came near my palace. Of course Leopold couldn’t have that kind of threat within his borders. But he also knew exactly how lethal he had crafted me to be.

“At first he sent letters, pleading for me to leave his lands. He offered passage across the sea. A chance to start over in a fleet of ships filled with gold. He didn’t understand, I didn’t want to leave. I had everything I wanted: my free will, my powers, and my revenge. The longer Leopold did nothing against me the more he looked weak, the more his power eroded.

“Eventually he sent his army. They breached the walls, roaches scurrying through my halls. Leopold found me in the throne room. I fought him and his best fighters, one by one they fell. Until at last Leopold took up the sword of one his generals stood his ground and demanded a truce. He said he’d cut out the heart of a deer from the wood and tell his people it was my heart. That I was vanquished. In return I would be left in peace to live a quieter existence within my palace. A shadow only, not a danger to him and his people. I agreed.

“I stayed in that palace until I knew he was dead. Until I heard his beloved daughter had been thrown off her throne, their kingdom dashed. I’m ashamed now at the joy I felt at that news. Because it turned out the man who took control was even worse. Gold soon banished magic and hunted down anyone rumored to have it. He came to me in my palace. Looking for a way to harness magic, to use it to fuel his infernal machines, trinkets, and inventions. I turned him down, but I knew he’d be back, and next time he wouldn’t ask. I fled my home, the only thing I still cared about. In the end everything I had sacrificed along the way meant nothing and I lost it all again.”

“I’m sorry,” Emma said softly. She knew it wasn’t enough. She knew her apology wasn’t the one Regina had wanted and that it wouldn’t do any good at this point. But the words slipped from her.

“Emma,” Regina said. “I’m not telling you this to make you feel sorry for me. I’m telling you so you will understand. This country is fragile. It’s unstable, now more than ever. If it falls into the wrong hands none of us will be safe. You and I least of all.”

“The wrong hands?” Emma said.

“Anyone without magic. We all saw what happened with the Industrialists. They don’t understand us, and eventually they all come to fear us. We are too different from them. Too powerful.”

“My parents aren’t like that,” Emma said. “They know I have magic. They love me. They aren’t anything like the Industrialists.”

Regina gave her a skeptical look. “They’re so different from the Industrialists? They wouldn’t misuse people with magic?” she asked. “Not like... your grandfather?”

Emma frowned. “That wasn’t them.”

“We won’t ever be protected if someone without magic is in charge.”

“What are you saying?” Emma asked. “That my parents shouldn’t rule?”

“I’m saying they have had their chance, and the people made their opinions quite clear about their leadership.”

Emma’s thoughts raced. If Regina wanted someone with magic to rule, did that mean she wanted Emma to rule?

She watched as Regina poured herself a glass of wine. Regina had never seemed to think all that highly of her, but maybe she had been mistaken. She couldn’t help but be flattered. And Regina would be a powerful ally to have on her side.

Feeling bolstered, Emma looked at the candle on the table again. A flame suddenly lit the wick sending flickering shadows dancing across the table. Emma beamed.

“See,” Regina said, looking smug. “You need to have confidence in yourself alone. Don’t listen to the other voices and doubts within you.”

You can do it by yourself. Don’t listen to anything else.

She knew what Regina wanted now. Knew why she wanted it and everything she had been through. She would help her get it.

It was unforgivable what her family had done in the name of power. And more than anything she needed to know if her parents, her mother, had known. She had to know exactly what kind of world her parents thought they had come back to restore.

“I need to go,” she said, grabbing the black cloak from where she’d laid it by the fire.

“The snow will be thick on the roads outside the city,” Regina said looking out the window.

Emma wondered if Regina would insist she stay at the castle. But instead she said, “Take a horse from the stable. I have a few.”

Emma nodded her thanks and hurried down the dark hallways. Stray snowflakes drifted in through broken windows and danced across the stone and marble floors as she went past.

She found the stables easily. Old memories guiding her. She quickly saddled up a black mare in one of the stalls and snapped the reins cantering out of the castle grounds, guiding the horse around the drifting snow in the streets and out of the city.

~*~

Regina took a sip of wine dark as blood. The castle echoed with silence since Emma had left. The air felt heavy with tension like clouds gathering and pressing down around her. The storm outside rattled against the windows. The wind howling through the ruined castle walls.

She turned to the heavy gilt mirror on the wall. The image that faced her was one she knew well, her eyes stared darkly back and she could sense her magic like a shadow beside her. A dark partner to her reflection.

“That could have gone worse,” she murmured to the glass.

The first part of any trap is always the least certain. She heard in response, a whisper like cold wind. All prey will consider their options before temptation wins out.

The candle flickered on the table, guttering out. She wondered distantly when the voice so deep it could have only come from the darkest depths of her mind had started to seem like sound advice.

“Her faith in her family will be hard to completely break.”

It’s already begun even before you, seeds planted years ago. You cannot unroot abandonment.

“Perhaps,” she said, swirling the liquid in her cup, watching the wine streak down the sides. “But she still holds on to hope.”

She felt more than saw the shadow sneer back at her. If the darkness is deep enough it can devour any light.

For a moment she wondered if that was referring to Emma, or her.

She drained her cup, the face in the mirror started to blur, the edges growing dimmer. She couldn’t quite tell now where she stopped and the shadows started. She didn’t mind the haziness, not like she used to. In the end it was always easier to give in. Darkness won only when you stopped fighting it, it was like sleep that way.

And for years she’d been so damn tired.

~*~

Emma passed off Regina’s horse to the farrier at the lakeside palace. Barely pausing on her way toward the wide front doors. She’d made good time, she knew she could catch her parents before they retired for the night.

She shrugged off Ruby’s cloak and left it beside the door.

“You’re back,” a voice said behind her. She spun to see her mother and father waiting for her.

“Where were you?” her mother asked.

Emma looked at them, the judgement clear on their faces. She’d always just be a child to them. But she’d learned long ago how to survive without a parent. Regina was right, she could do just fine on her own.

“I’m back now,” she told them, skirting the question.

“You shouldn’t be alone in the city,” her father said.

She looked between them. The worry on their faces had an edge of something darker.

“I wasn’t alone,” she assured them.

They looked over her shoulder as if expecting someone to follow in after her.

“Where’s Killian?” her mother asked.

Guilt flooded through her. Killian. She’d been in such a rush to know the truth for herself she’d forgotten she was meant to be waiting for him.

She shook her head. “I wasn’t with Killian.”

They exchanged a loaded glance. For a moment she was sure they somehow knew the truth.

“Who were you with?”

“Regina,” Emma said, challenging her parents to berate her. But they stayed perfectly still, silent. Their lack of reaction confirmed her fears.

Emma shifted her weight, narrowing her eyes. “What do you know about her?”

It was a test, but she had to know.

“She’s dangerous and manipulative,” her mother said.

“Yeah, I’ve been told.”

Her parents were watching her so carefully. Warily. They both seemed nervous about what she might say next.

Magic crackled through her, desperate to give real power to her anger. She took a deep breath, remembering to find the part inside her that would keep her from losing control. What would they think if they knew it was Regina helping her right that moment not to detonate.

“Emma-” her father started.

She didn’t want to hear excuses or careful diplomatic explanations. She wanted the truth.

“Did you know?” she asked them.

“Know what?”

She met her mother’s gaze. “Did you know what your father did to Regina? Do you know what he did to his enemies? What he did to keep his power? Is that the legacy you came back to continue?”

Her mother’s face drained of color. It was answer enough.

Emma felt tears in her eyes. Her family had lied to her. Lied to everyone. They were worse than the monsters they claimed they’d saved everyone from.

“Emma, you need to understand that-”

“No.” Emma shook her head, holding up her hand to stop them. She didn’t want to listen to what they had to say. “I understand perfectly.”

With that she turned, leaving them behind and ran for her room. She wanted to be alone.

Emma sank down onto the mattress, her head falling into her hands. She couldn’t stop the sobs that tore from her. Everything she held within her for so long was finally escaping.

She cried for Regina and she cried for herself. For everything a person could lose. For the people who had known and still hadn’t saved them. She cried until she didn’t have any more tears, and exhausted, with nothing left within her to fight, she fell asleep.

#captain swan #cs ff #cs fanfic #cs au #cs crew #steampunk anastasia au #once upon a december sequel #at the beginning #My writing

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