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lipstickstainz · 3 years

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true lies - s. r. (14/15)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Series Summary: Spencer is furious, when you rejoin the team after a year and after you left him, when he got arrested. Little does he know, that you leaving him was the only option to ever get him out of prison.

Chapter Summary: Leaving is the only option - right?

Warnings: angst, blood (but not much), break up, drug addiction (mentioned), alcohol consumption

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: hello lovies. I'm back and my mind is full of ideas! I hope you like it! gif not mine.

Series Masterlist

previous chapter

You watch the coffee in your cup as if it has all the answers for the future hidden in the caffeine. It's eight o'clock in the morning, and this is already your third cup of the sacred liquid, and you're sure it won't be your last. The shadows under your eyes are a sign of your nightmares that haunted you last night. The fact that you have them doesn't bother you, after all, you've been going through the procedure for months. What bothers you is the fact that you couldn't wake yourself up this time. You've gotten in the habit of pinching yourself when it would get too painful, but something stopped you last night. And the fact that you don't know what exactly bothers you the most.

"Y/N." Emily's voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you have to tear your gaze away from your coffee. "What do you think?"

All eyes are on you and out of nervousness you'd like to slide around in your chair, but suppress the urge. You haven't been listening for the last few minutes, too busy with your own thoughts and problems that you can't answer her. The case is supposed to be your last, and you're trying hard to enjoy it and value the time with your friends, but really you're just waiting for it all to be over. Most of all, you want to pack your things and leave.

You barely noticeably shake your head for Emily to continue, and turn your attention back to your coffee, which must be cold by now, but that doesn't stop you from drinking it down to the last drop. Without saying anything, you get up from your chair to get another one, paying no attention to Emily's annoyed look. As you fill your cup in the precinct kitchen, she stands right next to you.

"You're not being very helpful, Y/N," she says coolly as you take a sip. You know her manner is all pretense, because in reality she's incredibly concerned. She only needs to look at your face once to know what's going on in your head, but she doesn't address it. She knows you'll talk to her when the time is right. But you're not sure that will ever happen. "I've already assigned the tasks. You stay here and work with Spencer to gather all the important information that may be relevant to Penelope's research." The look on your face says it all. You don't want to spend any time with Spencer, and certainly not alone, but Emily gives you no choice. Before you can say anything back, she disappears out the door with the others.

With your coffee, which you now wish had a strong shot of vodka in it, you make your way back into the conference room, where Spencer is bent over the table, passing pictures and notes back and forth. You stop in the doorway and watch him for a brief moment, and only then do you notice the narrow, red scratch on his face that stretches from his cheek to his neck. You squint your eyes. It hadn't been there yesterday after all.

"What happened?“, you ask as casually as you can as you sit down and set your cup down on the table. As Spencer looks at you questioningly, you point to his face. "Looks bad." Indeed it does, though it's just a scratch. There's bloody crust in a few places, contrasting in color with his pale skin. Something really got to him.

"Cut myself shaving“, he replies curtly, glancing again at the pictures in front of him. You haven't seen him in two years, don't actually remember who he is exactly, but you still know when he's lying. And when to stop asking and let it go. When Penelope calls, you discuss some stuff and you see Spencer scratching over the wound until it bleeds, which he doesn't seem to notice, which is why you stall Penelope on the phone and grab his hand as soon as the line goes silent. Astonished, he looks at you before looking at his fingers.

"Come with me“, you say briefly and don't even wait for him to follow you. You approach an officer and ask for a first aid kit, which is immediately made available to you. Spencer follows you uncertainly into one of the washrooms, where you already put on the disposable gloves from the box - you don't want any bacteria to get on the wound - and wet a towel from the towel dispenser. Reluctantly, Spencer leans against one of the sinks, waiting for your instructions.

"Tilt your head to the side a little, please." You take the damp cloth and gently dab along the scratch to remove the dried blood. Spencer has to swallow at the touch and you see his Adam's apple bob, and really it shouldn't be that attractive, unfortunately it is anyway. You have to concentrate because this is the closest you've been to him in years. You breathe in his scent, feel his warmth through your gloves, and can barely stifle a deep breath.

"How do you know how to do that?“, he asks softly as you disinfect the wound, and Spencer has to pull himself together to keep from reacting to the burning from the alcohol.

You look at him briefly before turning your attention back to the scratch. „Experience“, you reply, spreading some wound healing ointment over it before taking off your gloves and disposing of everything in the trash can. You then put the first aid kit back together. As you turn around, Spencer is standing right in front of you.

"You didn't tell me you were having nightmares“, he whispers, and confused, you look at him. There's concern in his gaze, and if you're not mistaken, a little affection too, but you push the thought aside, not letting yourself have hope. Hope has only harmed you lately you have not moved forward a bit.

You look once more at the scratch, and then into his warm eyes. "You didn't cut yourself shaving“, you count one and one together and clench your jaws. He doesn't need to answer. You did this to him, you just don't remember. The reason you didn't wake up is Spencer. He was probably holding you, reassuring you so much that your body turned off its protective mechanism. It had certainly been the last time he did that, and you hadn't been awake to enjoy it.

"Why didn't you tell me about this?“, he asks, wanting to reach for your hand, but you take a step back. You don't want him to touch you. You'd prefer it if you weren't in this situation at all. You'd prefer that you hadn't come back at all. None of this should have ever happened.

"It's none of your business anymore, Spencer." Your tone is cool and something in his face changes.

"I thought we were friends."

You have to suppress a laugh. Two years ago, you could have lived well with being friends with him. You were prepared for it then, wished it on him, and meant it sincerely. Only lately you've been through so much that you can't even imagine it anymore. The two years had been hell, but you are sure that you can't live next to him without being able to be with him. You can't watch him and Max be happy together, and even though his happiness is everything you want, you'd rather he be happy with you. But you can't tell him that, it would be unfair and selfish. So you just look at him.

Then you reach for the small suitcase and push past him towards the exit.

You're glad when the case is over and you arrive back at Quantico. It's been a week since you and Spencer spoke, and luckily for you, you've continued to be spared nightmares, for which you're quite grateful. Not that Spencer is going to join you in bed one more time to calm you down.

As you walk from the airfield back to the building, you fall back a bit, watching the team joke and laugh with each other despite their fatigue. Most of all, you'd like to leave right now without saying goodbye. Rip off the band-aid, without anesthesia. Short and painless. But your plan is foiled when Emily suddenly walks up beside you and puts a hand on your arm.

"We're going for a drink." She raises an eyebrow expectantly. Apparently she's waiting for you to decline the invitation, and all too gladly you'd like to meet her expectations, but it's almost certainly the last night you'll see each other, at least for an extended period of time, and short and painless wouldn't be fair to her - your best friend.

You smile at her. "You're paying for the first round."

Her eyes widen in delight, but before she can say anything back, Luke, who has overheard your conversation, interferes. "We're going out for drinks?" A grin spreads across his face, almost reaching his ears, and suddenly the rest of the team pricks up their ears. Luke's gaze is fixed on you. "I bet I can drink you under the table by now, Y/N."

„You can’t“, Matt replies, and you see Rossi smile to himself. "Last time you did that, you almost passed out after four shots."

"JJ got the drinks. Maybe she mixed something in“, Luke tries to defend himself, but the blonde raises her hands.

"I'm not responsible for your kindergarten drinking. But I'd love to see you try to drink Y/N under the table." She smiles at you and winks, and you can't help but grin. It feels good to know that all is well between you and the team, even though they know with a high probability that you won't be staying. You'd understand if they were mad at you, but that doesn't seem to be the case. JJ looks at Spencer, who is being less than forthcoming. "You coming, Spence?"

He risks a quick glance in your direction before adjusting the bag on his shoulder. He knows this will be your last night. And that you won't see each other again after this. "I think I'll sit this one out“, he replies curtly, but JJ nudges him and he gives her a dirty look.

"You can't avoid it, Spence."

You'd rather he'd gone home.

The first drinks are on Emily, as promised, and the ones after that are on Rossi, and it's actually not long before Luke is sitting at the table with a glass of water, wishing he'd slowed down. You grin at him from the dance floor where JJ and you are swinging your hips, and he sticks his tongue out at you before putting his head in his hands and sipping water through the straw in his glass.

JJ reaches for your hand and pulls you close before wrapping her arms around your neck. "I'm going to miss you“, she almost yells so you can hear her over the loud music. You smile weakly at her. There's a glint in her eyes, probably from the alcohol, and only now do you realize how much you're really going to miss her.

"I'm going to miss you too“, you reply, risking a quick glance in Spencer's direction. He's sitting next to Luke, looking completely out of place. You look back to JJ and without further ado, she puts her hands to your cheeks and presses a kiss to your mouth. When she pulls away from you again, she just grins at you. "What was that for?"

"I want you to know that we love you. We all do. Remember that when you're lonely, and call if you need anything. You are and always will be a part of our weird family."

You wait a brief moment before pulling away from her and disappearing into the ladies' room. As soon as the door slams shut, tears stream down your cheeks and you have to hold onto the edge of the sink to keep from breaking down. You were aware of how much the others would miss you, but hearing it from JJ only makes it more real. By leaving, you're not only leaving Spencer behind, but everyone else as well, and that's so selfish of you that bile rises inside you and you almost throw up. You wish you hadn't had those last two drinks.

"Y/N?" You don't have to turn around to know it's Spencer. You recognized his voice and can see him in the mirror above the sink.He's standing behind you, unsure of what exactly to do, which is why he buries his hands in his pants pockets and looks at you silently.

You wipe the smeared mascara from under your eyes before turning and leaning against the basin. "This is the ladies' room, Spencer. You're not supposed to be in here.“

"I'm right where I'm supposed to be“, he replies, but doesn't move from the spot. He watches you brush your hair out of your forehead and wipe at your hot face to get rid of the tears. "You don't have to go. You know that, right?"

You look up from your shoes, straight into his eyes. "Yes, I do."

You want to leave the washroom, but his fingers curl around your arm, holding you back. "Y/N ..."

"I can't stay, Spencer. I can't look at you without knowing that someone other than me is waiting for you at home. I can't watch you be happy without me. It's okay, really. It's just that I don't have the strength to watch it anymore." The words just bubble out of you, and for some reason you can't stop. But it feels good to say it out loud, even though you certainly shouldn't. "I love you, Spencer. I'll always love you. But I'm at the end of my rope." You shrug in exasperation. "I have to think about me. I can only think about me." Spencer's face contorts painfully, but you can't stop. "To think that you're about to go to Max's and do God knows what ..." You shake your head, as if it might drive the thoughts from your mind. "I feel like I - I - I can't breathe. Like I'm going to die. And I just can't take it anymore."

Spencer's hand comes away from your arm at your honesty, but only to grab your hand and pull you against him. You bounce against his chest, wanting to pull away, but he holds you tight and presses you to him with his other hand. Carefully, he places his palm against your cheek and gently strokes your skin with his thumb. "Please, don't go."

You look into his eyes, which have filled with tears. "Why not?"

You can practically see him struggling with himself. He wants to say something, but can't find the right words, so he presses his lips together and lets his forehead sink against yours. All he has to do is say it, and you'd throw all your plans out the window and stick around. Just a few words. But he doesn't say them. "I can't ..."

You take a deep breath before pulling away from him, disappointed. „Goodbye“, you whisper, before leaving him alone in the washroom.

Spencer sits uncertainly at the kitchen table, watching the tea bag with lemon balm in the cup in front of him. He doesn't actually like lemon balm, but he needs something to calm his nerves and get the trembling of his hands under control as he sits there searching for the right words.

The last time he had felt this helpless, Emily had just left his apartment and he had been about to make some phone calls. The first call would have been to a man who would have given him a different number. The second phone call would have been to a woman who would have transferred him. And the third number belonged to someone who would have given him what he was only too happy to get.

Many years ago, he had sworn to himself that he would never resort to it again. That he wouldn't need it. He would be stronger than the desire to feel nothing more. The only thing that had stopped him was that you would never wish that for him. That you had helped him then, had stood by him. He didn't want it to be in vain.

Spencer hates feeling so helpless, even though he actually knows exactly what he has to do now. That's why he sits in the kitchen in the middle of the night, cup of calming tea in hand, not daring to look at the woman sitting across from him. But he doesn't need to say anything either. She knows why he was at her door at such a late hour. They sit in silence, neither quite knowing what to do. Neither of them has been in this situation before. Spencer is glad she's the first to speak.

"So that's it." It's more of a statement than a question. Spencer nods silently, whereupon she purses her lips. "Because of her?"

Spencer looks up from his cup and looks directly at Max. Then he shakes his head. "No, not because of her."

She raises an eyebrow. "But what? Don't you dare give me that 'it's not you, it's me' tour. I've heard that one before."

Spencer has to think for a moment, find the right words, before he answers. "I've lost her so many times. I wouldn't survive it another time."

The two have known each other long enough. Max knows he's not exaggerating or meaning it metaphorically. He has told her about his addiction, and she had been very grateful at the time that he was so honest with her, even though they hadn't known each other long. Spencer knows that all of this is not healthy and psychologically quite far from reasonable and Maxine knows what she has gotten herself into. But no one could have guessed that it would end this way.

"I'm sorry." Spencer's voice sounds hoarse and raspy. He stands up and makes his way toward the apartment door.

"I hope you make it." There's so much honesty in her voice that Spencer has to smile sadly over his shoulder.Maxine doesn't deserve this. None of you deserve this.

The walk to Emily's apartment is short, but to Spencer it feels like an eternity. The train is late, which is why he actually starts running, afraid of missing his chance. He runs until his lungs are burning and his bag is banging painfully against his ribs.The few people left on the streets look at him askance, but he doesn't care. He's panting, barely getting his breath and wishing he was a little more athletic, but as he sprints around the next corner he can already see the building where Emily's apartment is located.

For a brief moment he considers taking a break, catching his breath, but he can't wait another second. Hopefully he's not too late.

He's not surprised that he can just walk into the building, even though he doesn't have a key. He sprints up the stairs, and runs down the hallways until he's gasping for breath and standing in front of the right door, his head high. He bangs on the door with a clenched fist, hoping it will open and he won't be too late. He can't be late. He can't be late.

Finally, the door opens, and for the first time in years, he can take a real breath.

"Y/N."

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lovelywingsart · 3 years

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Metallic (18+)

-- Karl Heisenberg X OC (AFAB, She/They) --

Oh lord here we go- Ok, first off, y'all get a small paragraph beforehand, please forgive me. :'D I've... never posted smut THIS PUBLICLY before. This is admittedly incredibly nerve-wracking and I'm hella nervous because I feel like I write... 'conservatively'? You'll see what I mean. So... Please go easy on me for this one...? I'm great for sweet stuff and angst, but smut is a whole other beast despite NSFW being one of my favorite art forms when drawing. I mean, I've already made a few *spicy* art pieces for them, but just... Writing is difficult. I mean, I really hope you guys like it anyway!! But fair warning. THIS is new for me. QuQ I do have a few more smut pieces in the works, but this was the first one written.

So uh... on to the story, I guess...!

**Small reminder that I have a small 'Masterlist' for these!**

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*Warning?: Hella smut, lots of biting, choking and kisses, some blood from said biting, just rough sex in general? Normal, to rough, to fluff. not entirely sure what else to add?? :'D It's all consensual, no worries.

Summary: With some high tensions, a smart mouth, and some unfortunate forgetfulness, Emelia gets herself into a bit of... 'trouble' with the notorious Metal Man. But maybe this time she bit off a bit more than she could chew... Not that she really ends up minding.

A pair of footsteps echoed through the underground tunnels of the factory, almost mimicking the constant sounds of pickaxes being dug into the stone. The walking man looked around every once in a while, seemingly proud of whatever progress had been made.

"All is going well. Good, good." He said proudly, puffing on the cigar he held between his fingers. The woman next to him rolled her eye. The small lights of the tunnels glinted in the glasses he wore as he turned his head to glance at her. "Is there a problem?" He chuckled.

"If by 'well' you mean 'excruciatingly slow by dimwitted slaves', then yes."

"Would you like to join them then, Emmy?"

"Bloody hell, no. I'm still sore from lugging those damned carts around..." Emelia mumbled, reaching to rub behind her neck. The man next to her chuckled again, handing over his cigar. He stepped forward slightly as she took it, holding out his free arm.

"And yet you're still walking!" He chimed, looking back at her as she puffed on the cigar, herself. "We'll change that soon enough."

"I'm not working myself to death, Heisenberg." She huffed, picking up speed and shoving the cigar back into his face. "While factory productions are important to me too, perhaps learn the definition of a 'break', and not as in 'break my back'."

Karl took the cigar with amusement as she walked forward ahead, clearly heading back to the main building.

"First you tell me to work harder, then you say not at all." He mused, following closely. "Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I can do what I want?"

"And yet, what you want is what affects YOUR factory in the long run... Timing, Karl."

"You act as if you know more about MY factory than I do."

"And what do you know?"

"Everything."

"Good, then you know I'm heading upstairs to rest for a moment."

"I assumed so."

The two wandered along the corridors to a hall with stairs leading to a metal door, sharing the cigar before she went forward and kicked the door open, snorting as she heard an irritated grunt behind her.

"If you break that, you're fixing it." He muttered, setting his hammer down to the side as he took the cigar from her. She snorted, tossing her own weapon to the side, watching it land on a pile of fabrics used for either covering machinery or covering herself when she slept, whichever happened to come first.

"You say that as if it would be difficult." She retorted, taking her hair out of the tie it was in and running her hand through it before stretching slightly as he walked past her to sit in a chair next to a desk in the room they were in. It was similar to a bedroom, but not quite. 'More like an office with a small bed' , she always said, occasionally taking residence on said 'bed' when she was tired. She felt Heisenbergs eyes on her as her muscles stretched and popped, and she let out a satisfied groan.

"It wouldn't be, but you'll have to make a new one from scratch." He said, arching a brow as he leaned back in the chair. She rolled her eye, moving to stretch her arms in front of her.

"Again, not hard." She shrugged, finally moving towards the desk he was next to. "Making a door takes less brains than you already have."

"Are you calling me an idiot?"

"I'm not calling you a genius."

She almost laughed as she saw him pause before taking a long drag on the cigar.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't just hear you say that." He sighed. She shrugged, leaning over the table and looking over the papers that had been laying on it.

"It's a joke, Heisenberg. I'll admit you're more intelligent than you let on." She said, moving the papers and other objects slightly while looking at them. She then paused as she held them, her eye going over the plans, x-rays, and sketches. "Did you leave out the other Soldat plans?"

"They're in with the cadou notes. I thought you would have seen them." He said simply, reaching for a manila folder on the corner of the table. He put the cigar in his mouth as he opened it and flipped through with a huff. "The new ones haven't been functioning properly, damn things... I'm thinking of rewiring the circuits to the brain.".

"Wouldn't that cause more damage than good?"

"Not if it's done properly." He chewed on the cigar for a moment before flipping over one of the papers. "The worst that could happen is the head exploding from the current. In that case-"

"Lycan food?" She suggested. He nodded in agreement.

"Lycan food. They're mostly useless to me otherwise..."

"As are most things..." she muttered, earning a glance. She looked back at him. "What? Am I wrong?"

"Not necessarily. Others do still have use."

"How?" She asked, turning to face him. "No head means no use."

He shrugged, tossing the folder back onto the table before leaning back in the chair.

"Replace certain muscle tissue and bones with pneumatic or hydraulic systems, whichever proves to be less of a pain in the ass that day, hot wire circuits to the remaining muscle structures, add an engine system into the chest with a strong battery..." he tilted his head slightly, almost as if he were picturing the plans in his head, thinking of more details as he went along. "They would quite literally be mindless, but a few shocks and currents would make them go just fine."

"Sounds a bit like you..." Emelia snorted, turning back to the table to organize the papers as he glared at her. "Shall I pick a few poor sods from the village to test this?"

"Or I could just use you..." he muttered.

"You wouldn't dare."

"Keep making your ass-backwards comments and see what happens." He shot back, finally pushing himself up to stand. "Yes, I'd like you to do that. Fresh bodies work best for the experiments. I'll send out the Lycans as well, given they don't tear them apart."

"That wouldn't matter anyway, Karl. You'll just stitch them back up like you always do."

"I could, couldn't I?" He started, taking a step closer to stand next to her with a sinister smile. "Or I could make YOU do it. You seem to have fun with tearing things apart and putting them back together-"

"I'm NOT sewing your bloody creations together." She interrupted. "I'll kill them and I'll tear them to shreds, or I'll assist with the inner workings of the mechanics. I don't sew."

"You'll learn."

"Like hell I will."

"I'll make you."

"Bullocks."

"Keep talking, Emelia." He dared, his voice lowering in a threatening manor. "I'm not in the mood."

"You were before we got here." She challenged. She only held her breath as he suddenly snuffed out the cigar on the table itself while his eyes seemed to stare directly through her.

"That's what happens when you keep insulting me, Emmy. I start to get angry. You know that."

She felt a chill down her spine at his voice. It was different from any other time she had aggravated him... It was as if she were in actual danger. His face was only inches away from hers, and he smirked once he noticed her hesitation.

"Scared, Emelia?"

She kept her eye on him, watching his movements carefully. No, No she wasn't in danger... Maybe.

"No." She replied, lifting her chin slightly as he arched a brow.

"Oh?"

"What is it you say to me...? I'm 'in a mood'...? Because I believe you're currently in one, yourself." She asked, finally moving forward and brushing past him in a nonchalant manor despite being somewhat stiff in her movements. "Drink some coffee and throw a few things around with that power of yours, you'll be fine."

She felt his eyes on her as she neared a cushioned chair against the wall.

"I'll throw YOU around..." He growled, taking amusement in her body slowing down as he spoke. He walked towards her as she turned to face him. "See how that pretty mouth works after your head goes through a wall."

"You forget I've stopped your hammer with my arm." She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest before smirking. "You smashing my head through a wall would be as effective as Sturm trying to hold something with his nubs."

"You don't seem to understand what I can do to you, Emelia."

"And you don't seem to understand the amount of fucks I don't give, Karl."

His arm twitched slightly, and she glanced over as metal pieces on the floor began to shake just slightly. She just hoped he wouldn't direct his power towards her...

"If you would like to play, I'll GLADLY entertain you."

She suddenly got in his face, a mischievous, antagonistic spark in the gold of her eye.

"Entertain me HOW? Throw me to the Lycans? The Varcolacs? Hell, let Urias get ahold of me, see what happens."

He bared his teeth in a snarl, though the corners of his mouth stayed in a malicious grin.

"I'll turn YOU into a goddamn Soldat, you'll be so full of metal you won't be able to FUNCTION without me-"

"I'm more afraid of your SISTER than I am you!"

Her smirk widened as she saw a sudden spark of anger in his face, his smile faltering.

"Don't you dare attempt to bring that bitch into this, I'll put my hammer straight into your skull-"

"TRY ME, THEN-" She started, only to give a yelping gasp in surprise as Heisenberg slammed her against the wall by her throat.

"Shut your damn hole!!!-" He snarled. His grip was tight, but he seemed to stop once he glanced at her open mouth. All of a sudden the air around them changed, and she stared at him with confusion in her one golden eye. "Oh, Emmy, you didn't tell me!" He said with a sudden cheerful tone, moving his hand from her throat to her jaw. He switched so quickly...

"Wh-" she began, only to stop as her jaw was yanked open. She was confused until she saw the reflection of her tongue piercing in his glasses.

Shit.

"Well well, I guess you've got some metal in you after all. I won't have to try as hard..." He chuckled, tilting his head as she stared at her own reflection. "What else are you hiding from me, Emmy?"

Her eye was wide in simultaneous fear and curiosity. She knew she couldn't have hidden the piercings forever, but certainly longer than this. She usually at least took the one out of her mouth when around him given how often they talked for this reason... But even then, he had never noticed it before. Why now?! She kicked herself for forgetting. She wanted to shove him away... Shove him and run. Would he chase her? He was most definitely trying to scare her, she knew that much... But she also wanted to know how far he would actually go if she did nothing. Would he rip them out if he found the others? Use them as control like he mentioned? Or would he leave her alone? Something told her the latter was out of the question as he showed growing interest in her silence.

"N-.... Nothing..." she managed, nudging her jaw out of his grip. "I just-"

"You're a liar, Emelia." He said, his grin growing wider. She gave a huff and shook her head.

"I am not, you ridiculous-"

She was stopped with a startled gasp as a gloved thumb was shoved between her jaws, nearly propping her mouth open.

"Now now, this'll go far easier if you do it my way. Now open up."

He lifted his other hand to his face, taking a finger of the glove between his teeth and sliding it off. The glove fell to the ground between them, and she watched as he reached for her face with his bare hand. She flinched slightly as his fingers pressed against her lower jaw, though admittedly relaxed as his thumb drifted over her bottom lip. The skin was expectantly rough, she found, calloused and covered in smaller scars. She closed her eye as it drifted over her sharp lower teeth before thrusting over her tongue, pushing it back and causing a small gaging reflex. It tasted... metallic... Metallic with hints of other things. Not quite metal, not quite blood... Maybe residual oil? Maybe a hint of the cigars. She couldn't tell exactly what it was, but the mixture wasn't bad... She really didn't mind much. She could almost feel the interested look on his face as she relaxed, though she attempted to hide it. Oh god, was she enjoying this...? She only flinched as he pressed his thumb against the muscle, pushing it out of her mouth somewhat to see the piercing fully.

"Let's see how much you're hiding from me, shall we?" He grinned.

There was a moment of confused silence before she felt his thumb press against the metal rod, her eye snapping open with a gasping yelp as what felt like electric sparks and currents traveled through that piercing, as well as the others.

All the others.

The sparks lasted only a second, but a second was all that was needed as her back arched slightly away from the wall. Heisenberg took a step back in surprise as Emelia suddenly collapsed to her knees, shaking and panting ever so slightly out of shock and... something else. She doubled over with a wide eye, an arm covering her chest and the other pressed against her abdomen and ever tightening thighs. What the hell WAS that...?! What the fuck did he do?!

"W-.... Wh-...." she tried, trying to voice her thoughts. But alas, despite the tingling feeling up her spine disappearing, she couldn't. She couldn't even move as she heard movement directly in front of her, the shock of the feeling only allowing her to look up as he grabbed her chin and lifted her face to meet his. She watched as he kneeled, only to look up and see the most smug grin she had ever seen.

"Liar liar, Emmy... You know how I hate liars." He chimed, adding to the smug aura he held. It pissed her off, but she couldn't do much about it now... She then grew nervous as he tilted his head, taking in her reaction fully as she stared at him with an ever-deepening red blush on her cheeks. "If I was more foolish, I'd say you enjoyed that."

"I-I... D-did NOT...!!" She snapped, stopping with a small squeak as he shoved his thumb back into her mouth to silence her.

He was met with another squealing whine as he pressed against the piercing once more, gleefully sending more currents through the metal pieces in her body. Emelia reached up to shakily grab his arm as the piercing was left alone once more, though the residual shock still remained. She wanted to say something... Say ANYTHING... but the feeling in her face, chest and thighs was so odd and... and good... It kept her silent, and Heisenberg took interest.

"Lycan got your tongue?" He joked, chuckling as she let out a growl. He found it amusing, of course. She only frowned as he tilted his head with the ever present smirk, his sharp teeth glinting in the dim light of the room. "You know, Emmy..." he started, yanking her forward by the jaw slightly as she kept her hold on his arm. "I can't help but wonder how it tastes."

She felt another shiver down her spine at the sickeningly curious tone in his voice. Taste... Taste?? She stared at him as he removed his thumb from her mouth, though nearly started to form words immediately in stupid curiosity. The answer came to her quickly, however, in the form of a hand around her neck, a mouth to hers, and being shoved against the wall once more. She made an almost strangled noise as her back hit the concrete, her mind attempting to play catch-up as she felt something being shoved into her mouth. More sparks traveled along the piercings as his tongue slid over hers, and she let out a whining growl in response.

The taste of metal and the slightest bit of sweetness filled her mouth, along with the taste of the cigar they had shared only minutes prior. But... Why did it taste so good? Why wasn't she fighting him? She found herself frozen for a few moments as the realization set in that she... truly enjoyed this. He couldn't have known, could he? There was no WAY he could have known... Oh god, what was wrong with her? She generally wanted to strangle the man, but now...

She allowed the frustration from earlier to bubble in her chest, giving her control of her limbs for a few moments. Heisenberg began to back off, thoroughly satisfied in her reactions and his 'taste test' before she suddenly grabbed the front of his jacket and yanked him back against her, giving a quiet grunt as her back was forced against the wall again with his weight. He was brought to his knees at the force of the tug, and it was her turn to feel satisfaction as a startled grunt left this throat.

Emelia returned the forceful kiss with all her strength, her back arching somewhat with the now consistent current from the piercings. Her legs shook slightly as she felt a warm feeling in her thighs from the current, unintentionally letting out quiet whimpers and heavy breaths into the kiss. His hand stayed pressed to her throat before he moved it to the side of her neck and shoved her head upwards with his thumb. He tore himself away to attack her neck immediately, licking along the skin before closing his jaws around it. She gasped as he moved along her neck, leaving bloody bites and bruises while using his free hand to nearly rip at her shirt. The fabric was pulled it from its tucked position, his grip tearing a few holes in the worn fabric as he held it taught away from her skin. She couldn't help it as her heavy breaths turned into pants, and she gripped his arm tighter as she felt the fabric continue to tear from a mixture of his grip and her squirming from the feeling between her legs. She shuddered as he finally pulled away from her now very bruised neck, his lips hovering right against her ear.

"Let me taste all of them, then." He growled, returning his hand to around her neck and squeezing along the bottom of her jaw.

Her squirming paused in his grip. 'Please, oh PLEASE-' she thought, secretly wishing to rip the shirt off, herself. But he couldn't know that... If he did, she knew he'd taunt her mercilessly. Not that he wasn't doing the same now... Instead she shook her head just slightly, trying to even out her breathing.

"W-Wait-" she started quietly, only to gasp once more as he finally tore the front of the shirt clean off from the seams. He tossed the fabric to the side as her back arched to meet the new air her front was exposed to, the newly revealed silver nipple piercings glinting as her body moved.

"Too late." He chuckled deeply, grabbing her by the side and bringing her chest forward as if he were claiming a prize.

He leaned down slightly, his arm wrapping around her as his mouth returned to her skin. He kissed and nipped to her shoulders and collarbone until his lips met the tip of the large scar that rested between her breasts. She swore she could almost see something flicker in his shade-covered eyes as he seemed to study it before nipping at it carefully. The nips were... oddly careful. It was as if he knew what it was... She managed to compose herself enough to speak, one of her hands moving to nudge his shoulder. She couldn't help but give a nervous gulp as he looked up at her, his eyes burning as if her touch had fueled the fire.

"N-... N-Not... um..." she tried, her voice oddly timid. She knew what was happening, though the idea made her nervous... "N-Not... here..."

"Hm?" He tilted his head slightly, loosening his grip on her neck. He then followed her gaze to the small 'bed' in the corner of the room- though it was more like a single mattress over a solid 'frame' with random odd pillows along the wall and multiple covers lumped on top. It was how she liked it.

"Th-There... uh..." she looked away for a moment, heavily aware her burning cheeks. "P-... P-Please..."

She could nearly feel his smile against her skin as he chuckled, though he didn't reply. It was then that she was suddenly picked up with a surprised yelp and tossed over his shoulder, her knees pressing against his sides to balance herself. She managed to hold on long enough before he walked to the 'bed', landing roughly onto it as she was tossed. She nearly scrambled to sit up until she looked up at him, watching him quickly close the space between them, removing his thick jacket and single remaining glove.

"Stay still, Emmy. The show is just getting started." He taunted, unbuttoning the long sleeve shirt he wore before kneeling onto the cushion and looming over her. She couldn't help as her vision traveled down what she could see of his chest, seeing similar scars along his skin.

She opened her mouth to speak, giving a quiet yelp as she was shoved into the sheets by her neck, her legs now situated around his waist. Her back arched as he leaned over, biting at her shoulder and collarbone once more before around one breast and onto the other. She gave a whining gasp as he reached the peak, his tongue swirling around the sensitive skin and the small bar of metal pierced through it, his teeth grazing the it ever so slightly. He used his other hand to trail along the scar on her chest and down to her pierced belly, his rough fingers caressing the skin until they pushed underneath the tied overalls. Her legs twitched as his fingers reached the piercing between them, feeling as it was surrounded by a moist warmth. He smirked.

"I knew it." He said, rubbing against the piercing and bundle of nerves with another jolt of electricity before removing his hand. She couldn't help the whine that left her throat as her hips bucked lightly from the feeling, and he chuckled. "Easy..." he muttered, returning the palm of his hand to her stomach and shoving her down.

He dug his fingers into the skin around the belly piercing as she glanced down, and she made another strangled noise as he sent another wide current through her piercings. Her back arched as he pressed harder to keep her down, though she was startled as he suddenly crushed his mouth against hers once more. The small currents pulsed in a slow rhythm as she returned the kiss, her legs shaking and tightening against his hips. She let out a soft cry against his lips as the pulses increased, her grip on his arm tightening and even pulling him closer as the waves of a small orgasm rushed through her in spasms. The feeling was strengthened with the addition of... something pressed to her thighs underneath their clothing. But the waves... The small spasms that affected the muscles of her back and legs... While it hadn't been something she had felt even when human, and while she knew what it was, all she knew was that it felt good. REALLY good...

She could have sworn up and down she hated the man at any point before this, but as he broke the kiss and pulled away to look at her, she couldn't help but feel... want? Desire? Whatever it was, she knew she didn't want it to stop at the moment, and that's all that mattered to her. She still didn't want to give in so easily... But god damn was this feeling hard to fight off.

"D-... D-Damn you..." she nearly whispered, her voice wavering slightly. She was met with an amused chuckle as he removed his glasses and lightly sent them to the table they had been at before.

"Just what I like to hear..." He taunted, removing his hand from her throat. "Tell me, Emmy... Do you want more? Feel free to say nothing if you do."

She stared at him as he gave another sly grin, opening her mouth as if to protest... But she couldn't. Instead, she remained silent, though gave an irritated, embarrassed huff as she glanced off to the side. Her lip curled into a silent snarl as he gave another chuckle.

"I thought as much." He replied, leaning up. His fingers were dragged along her skin as he moved, trailing along other scars that littered her skin.

She glanced down to follow his hands, watching as they trailed over her hips and around to her front where the knot in the tied mechanic suit she wore. With one quick movement it was untied and loosened, and she jumped as everything was suddenly pulled away and off of her hips, sliding down her thighs. She froze at the new rush of cool air surrounding the warmth between her thighs, and suddenly the entirety of the clothing was removed as he seamlessly pulled it away from her legs. Now she was completely bare in front of him... Exposed.

The desire to cover herself was overwhelming as she met his eyes, seeing the smugness and sense of possession he gave as he took in every visible inch of her skin. Her arms and legs twitched in an attempt to cover any vulnerable areas, but she suddenly found her arms pinned next to her head and his hips against the backs of her thighs to keep them open.

"Don't you dare." He grumbled, a smirk still on his face as he glanced down slightly before looking back up at her face. "I haven't tasted everything yet."

"Wh-..." she tried, her legs twitching again.

She was met with another kiss as he leaned down, though it didn't last long. She let out quiet pants as his lips and teeth moved along her jaw to her neck, leaving more bites and bruises among the ones that already stained the skin. Her arms twitched as he reached her breasts again, hit tongue repeating the same actions as before on both piercings before finally returning to the large scar running down her sternum. He planted light kisses and nips along it, earning her confusion as he continuously moved lower. She watched as he nipped along the skin of her stomach, the corner of her mouth twitching as he seemingly, almost playfully, gently bit the piercing in her belly and glanced up at her. She rolled her eye for a moment before he sent another current through the metals, and she let out a soft whimper. It wasn't until he let go and moved to kiss and bite around her hips and thighs that she realized, her head shooting up with slight panic as she felt his lips against the inside of her thigh.

"H-Hey-"

"Quiet Emmy." He purred, the tone of his voice making her freeze. She watched as he kissed the inside of her thigh once more, her head landing back against the cushion with a shuddering gasp as he bit along the sensitive skin. Her hand flew over her mouth as he moved closer to her core, whimpering as she felt his tongue gliding along the skin.

"K-Karl, wait-" she whimpered through her fingers, only to take in a sharp, gasping breath as she finally felt his tongue against her, moving slowly as if savoring her reactions.

She tried closing her legs, though found it nearly impossible due to his hands forcing them to stay where they were. She could almost feel the bruises form where his fingers pressed against the skin, though that feeling was second in her mind compared to the pleasured sparks up her spine with each movement of his tongue. She couldn't help as her hand left the sheets, finding its way to his head as he played with the small piercing through the bundle of nerves, sending small electric pulses through her body once more. She felt the vibration as he chuckled against her, gripping his hair with small gasps and whimpers as his tongue delved into the warmth. Her back arched slightly with each movement, her thighs shaking from the new sensations. Why did it feel so good...?! She let out a long whine as the electric pulses continued, eventually biting down on her hand as to attempt to prevent any further noises. She could feel the tightness return as his teeth grazed against the piercing, and suddenly her hand was gripping his hair in a fist as she came again, a multitude of muffled whines and mutterings of his name escaping her mouth while her back arched. She barely heard the grunt he gave as he was pressed against her, not even realizing as he was able to pull himself away.

She flinched as Heisenberg reached up to grab her wrist, her body shaking slightly as he managed to nudge her hand away. He ran a hand through his hair to smooth it out, rising to loom over her once more as he licked his lips. Where the actual FUCK did he learn that?!

"That hurt, Emmy." He purred, keeping his grip on her wrist as she finally looked at him. Her face was red as she panted, her legs trembling as they rested against his hips once more. "Good girl."

He smirked as she stared up at him, his tongue swiping over his teeth before he leaned over and yanked her other wrist from her mouth, pinning both of them to the cushion beside her head. Her breath caught in her throat at the sudden movement, her eye widening as it met his. There was a moment of silence as they held a stare down, only ending as he shifted her wrists into one hand and used the other to undo the belt and button of his own pants in one swift motion. It took her a moment to register the movement, keeping eye contact once the full realization of just how far- and how fast- this was about to go hit her. She squirmed slightly in his grip as she glanced down, nearly breaking said grip, only to get caught in yet another rough kiss as she felt something warm press against her thighs. She could taste herself on his tongue, and somehow it made her arousal worse...

She let out a whining groan as she was rubbed against, her back arching once more at the new feeling, only to give a surprised and somewhat pained cry against his lips as she felt him enter her quickly and fully with a grunt. She gasped into the kiss as he returned his hand to her neck, her back arching into his chest and her thighs once again tightening around his waist. More of the pleasurable feeling shot up her spine as he moved a few times, pressing against her roughly as she gave small whimpers and whines. It felt... good... so good. Why did it feel good? Why did all of this just feel GOOD? What the hell was she missing from her old life that didn't include THIS?? She couldn't help the small moan she gave as the kiss was broken, and he shoved his hips against hers. He tightened his fingers around the sides of her neck with a sly smirk as he stayed where he was. Although the glint in his eyes may have looked malicious, his actions proved otherwise as he allowed her a few seconds to relax.

"Am I being too rough with you, Emmy?" He asked, his smirk widening into a grin as she mindlessly shook her head, though it was more like a few twitches.

"N-... No... N-Not rough enough..." she growled with a challenging tone, though her voice was still light. She was met with a dangerous chuckle.

"Good."

Emelia glared up at him with a somewhat clouded eye, her breaths coming in light pants that turned into gasps and moans as his movements continued, growing faster and harder with each passing second. She struggled to keep her voice down despite the feeling of each thrust sending sparks into her chest. The sounds of his low grunts and deep breathing weren't helping, she found, and it made it much more difficult to control her own pleasured noises. She was then aware of a low laugh from him.

"Ah... I didn't think... you could sound like THIS, Emmy...~" He purred, his grip on her neck tightening. She opened her mouth, nearly flinching as she let out more soft moans.

"S-... S-Shut...." she tried, though was unable to finish any thought with her gasps and whines.

Her arms struggled in his grip, shaking with each thrust, only to suddenly be freed as he let go in order to take ahold one of her hips. She mindlessly reached for him almost immediately, gripping the edge of his shirt with one hand and grabbing the necklaces around his neck with the other in order to yank him down. She was rewarded with another rough kiss, her head being jerked up as he kept a hand around her throat. She let go of the necklaces, instead reaching under his shirt, her fingers trailing over his own scars until her nails dug into his back. There was an internal satisfaction as she heard Heisenberg give a surprised grunt, only to give a yelping cry as he suddenly pulled away to replace his hand around her neck with his teeth.

Small sparks of pain made their way through her shoulder as his teeth broke the skin, though they seemed to amplify the feeling as the thrusts became rough and quick. She finally reached her other hand around and under the shirt he wore, her nails dragging down the skin of his back as her moans and whines grew louder.

"F-... FuCK...! K-Karl...!!" She said suddenly, her voice cracking somewhat as she was met with a possessive growl and the slight smell of fresh blood as he let go of her neck. She couldn't help but gasp as she felt his cheek against hers, his beard scratching against her skin as his lips nearly against her ear.

"You're MINE, Emelia..." He growled.

Emelia felt as more pulsing currents were sent through her piercings, and she couldn't help but cry out as the pulses caught her by surprise. Her muscles tensed, her nails tearing at Heisenbergs back as she felt the waves of a strong orgasm, making her body shake and her legs flex around his waist. Her thighs tightened at his hips, halting him enough to keep him where he was as she came, but not long enough to stop him entirely. He let out a low growl as he kept up his movements until he slammed against her hard enough to move her up a few inches. She gave a gasping moan as could feel his muscles shudder and a strange warmth in the pit of her stomach as he filled her, and her back arched against his chest as she nearly hugged him to her for dear life.

There was small silence as their movement ceased, each breathing heavily. Emelia held onto the man over her as if it meant life or death, momentarily forgetting her irritation around him in the first place as there was a sudden feel of lips along her neck in a multitude of small kisses. They were gentle against her bruised skin... The odd tickle of the facial hair made the corner of her mouth twitch as she panted, unintentionally laying her head to the side for him as she very slowly but surely relaxed. Her irritation only slightly returned as she heard a chuckle from her neck, and she glanced down.

"Th' bloody hell is so funny...?" She muttered, unable to keep the lightness from her voice. She watched as he looked up from her neck, a sly smile across his still bloody lips.

"You're adorable, Emmy." He said simply, making her groan and start to push him away.

"Piss off...!!" She growled, only to gasp as he suddenly leaned over her with a chuckle, nearly being pushed into the mattress again as he finally slipped off the button-up shirt.

"Precious little doll, you didn't seem to hear what I said."

'Doll' ...? Emelia stared at him, now also shirtless, taking in the rest of the scars she had never seen. She could feel her face heat up more as he leaned over her, holding himself up with his hands on either side of her shoulders.

"Wha-" she started, only to let out a gasping yelp as he gave a single hard thrust to silence her.

"I told you, Emelia. You're mine. In more ways than one, it seems." He nearly purred, leaning down to press his nose to hers.

Her single eye widened as he grinned, only to be met with a quick, relatively gentle kiss. It took a moment for her to calm down before she returned it, staying where she was and secretly holding herself to that proclamation. She didn't want to admit it... She never would. But somehow, despite how he could be, this made her feel... wanted. It was an odd feeling, and one she knew she would be hesitant on getting used to. But she still hated him... Right?

She gave a soft whine as he pulled away, physically removing himself from her with a shuddering breath. She let out a whimper as she relaxed back against the covers, feeling an odd coldness and even a slight sense of loneliness as his weight left the mattress. She opened her eye with confusion and watched as his pants were fixed before her vision trailed up his back to see the bloody scratches she had left.

"Whoops..." she muttered, earning a chuckle and a glance back.

"I'll let you relax for now, Emmy. I don't wanna break you just yet..." He joked, nodding to the shirt he had left. "Use that for now, we'll get you another shirt later."

She couldn't help but smirk, her face red.

"Done already...?" She asked, her smirk faltering heavily as he glanced back with an odd mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Never said I was, Doll. This is for your sake."

Emelia watched as he began to walk to the jacket he had left, but she felt... sad. Not because he had stopped. Not even because she almost wished they would keep going immediately... No, it was another reason she couldn't quite place with every step away he took. She carefully pushed herself to sit up, wincing at the tenderness that settled between her legs before reaching for her discarded jumpsuit. But she only grabbed the simple boxers she had, managing to slip them on with minimal issue. She saw him slow his movements as she managed to stand, her knees just the slightest bit weak. Holding on to a support beam on the wall, she shakily made her way over to him as he glanced at her with an odd curiosity. She didn't care if she was entirely naked save for underwear, simply covering her chest with her arm as she reached for him. She stumbled into his back, feeling his muscles tense as her arms slowly wrapped around his torso, her fingers lightly drifting along the hair and scars on his chest.

"Don't you dare leave me like this, Heisenberg..." she muttered, pressing the scarred half of her face against his back. She knew he could feel her trembling as her legs threatened to collapse on her.

There was a moment of silence before she heard and felt him chuckle.

"You really are an odd one, Emmy..." He chuckled, turning his head to glance at her over his shoulder before giving a dramatic sigh. "Have it your way, then."

Emelia jumped as he suddenly turned in her arms, her cheeks going red as his face was suddenly mere inches away from hers. What was she DOING? Why she acting this way? She didn't know... But she was pleasantly stunned as she felt his hand raise and nudge her chin gently. However, instead of it going around her neck again as she expected, he simply caressed her cheek, avoiding the scars around her missing eye; Even he knew she hated them being touched, and now didn't seem like the best time to annoy her. In fact, he almost enjoyed her more when she was calm like this... She couldn't help but feel relaxed as the rough pad of his thumb brushed over her skin. Relaxed enough to settle her cheek into his hand fully, ever so slightly trying to remind herself that this wasn't who he was all the time. This was temporary... But she could do temporary.

"... Don't tell anyone..." She muttered suddenly, keeping her hold on him as he leaned back against the shelving next to them to stay comfy. He chuckled once more.

"Who do I have to tell, Emmy?" He chimed. She stared at him for a moment before shrugging, laying her head against his chest.

It was a moment of domesticity that she vaguely remembered wanting as human... Something about someone being close physically always seemed tantalizing, yet there was no way to achieve it here... Or so she thought. If she could just have more time like this... Though she knew it wasn't meant to last, especially not with him... But for now, she appreciated it. It wasn't until her senses focused on the machinery noises outside of the room that she gave a sigh, reluctantly pulling away from him.

"I should get back to work, then..." she mumbled, taking a few steps away, her fingers dragging along his chest before she turned, not seeing Heisenbergs face as he watched her walk away and run a hand through her hair to push it out of her face.

She made her way over back to the bed-like cushion, absent-mindedly picking the button-up shirt he had been wearing and slipping it on, herself. She'd take it since he offered, and because she didn't necessarily feel like hunting down new clothing. It was only slightly loose over her frame, being only slightly smaller than him in stature, and she felt his eyes burrow into her back as she buttoned it up. Quiet footsteps approached her from behind, causing her to jump with a small gasp as arms surrounded her while the shirt was only halfway buttoned. Heisenberg pulled her back against his chest, one hand on her hip and the other around the front of her waist.

"What are you-" she started, only to stop as the arm around her waist raised to nudge the collar of the shirt off her shoulder, placing gentle bites and kisses along the skin as soon as it was shown. Small shivers went up her spine with the movements, and she let out a wavering breath in attempts to not laugh from the tickling of his beard. "K-Karl, stop-"

"I never told you to get back to work..." He said simply, his now semi-serious tone interrupting he train of thought and causing any hint of laughter to disappear. He trailed kisses and bites to her jaw and her ear once more. "Indulge me then, Emmy, and I'll let you go. Let me have my fill."

Her face fell slightly. His fill... Did he mean...?

"W-What, be your toy until you're done?" She huffed, turning her head slightly to face him. Though he was on her blind side, she could almost feel the grin.

"Well, when you put it that way..." he started, letting his hands wander. One trailed under the shirt slightly, his fingers drifting below her belly, while the other found and gave a gentle squeeze to a now exposed breast from the shirt being moved before resting over the large scar. "Yes. But don't worry. I take care of my toys... I said I wouldn't break you so soon. And besides..." he pressed another gentle kiss behind her ear, "You seem like you want more. Am I wrong?"

Emelia took a shaky breath as she felt the odd sensations once more, reaching to hold onto his forearms as his hands moved. Well, of COURSE he was right... She knew there wasn't much else she would have to do around the factory today anyway. She worked constantly, and the factory ran relatively smoothly without her. She even came here for a break, anyway... And, despite her feelings about him, what the man had just shown her was... Well, her legs still held a slight wobble. To say she wanted more was an understatement. And so, she have a small huff and looked forward, tilting her head to allow him at her neck.

"... Go ahead..." she muttered, her voice an embarrassed tone. She felt his grin against her neck taking a breath as he gave a small, rough bite.

"You won't regret it, Emmy."

She gave a small, joking snort.

"I'll believe you if you can prove it, Karl..."

"Oh, even after what I've just shown you?" He played, his lips pressing to her neck once more. She said nothing, only somewhat easing against his chest with a huff. She rolled her eye as he chuckled, though her breath caught in her chest as his hand left the scar, letting his fingers trail up and along her throat. "I didn't think I would have to prove anything."

"You never do..." she muttered suddenly, only to close her mouth as she felt him freeze behind her. Where the hell did that come from...??

"Oh?"

She was silent for a moment before clearing her throat.

"Th-That, ah..." she started, only stopping as he grabbed her throat and pulled her to him roughly.

"What?" He growled, ever so slightly moving them forward. She took shaky steps, following his direction.

"N-Not... what I... mean..." she finally managed, glancing down with a quick breath as she felt the edge of the work table against the front of her thighs.

"Hm. What did you mean then, Emmy?"

"I..." she tried, though was unable to find her voice. What was this rush of excitement...?? The tone of his voice sent chills down her spine as he nibbled at her shoulder while awaiting a response. She then decided to just speak. What could go wrong?

"I-I mean...." she managed, gaining a smirk and holding onto his arm. She could feel as he tilted his head in curiosity. "You haven't quite done so thus far, how am I to believe you could...?" she continued, feeling his grip tighten. Good. She pulled away from him slightly to aggravate him. "You always need to prove yourself Karl, you won't get far without it-"

She was stopped with a surprised grunt as she was suddenly shoved down against the table, giving a surprised grunt of pain as her chin hitting it with a light *thunk* . He kept his hand between her shoulders, using his weight to keep her down as she moved to rub her jaw. Her hand was then suddenly yanked away as he twisted her arm behind her back, earning an uncomfortable grunt.

"Bloody hell- H-hey-!"

"I don't give proof, huh?" He growled suddenly, leaning down over her to talk into her ear. "I assure you, Emelia, I have all the proof you need."

She opened her mouth to speak, only to shut it with a surprised noise as he suddenly bit down on her neck and yanked her towards him. The backs of her thighs hit his hips, and she let out a small, surprised whimper. He slipped his fingers under the waistline of her underwear with his free hand, taunting her by slowly dragging them down. There was a sudden spark at her piercings once more while her lower half squirmed, and she couldn't help but give a small, moaning whine as she felt the sparks increase. Waves of pleasure traveled up her spine, causing her back to arch into the table somewhat and nearly bite her bottom lip until it bled. Small goosebumps covered her skin as she felt her underwear finally fall to her ankles. It wasn't until she felt him adjust himself behind her that she attempted to look to the side, only to be met with a growl and his teeth digging into the skin more.

She could smell the blood as it began to seep from between her skin and his teeth... It made her head swim as she finally felt him rub against her roughly, the small sparks of pain from his teeth adding to the odd pleasure she was feeling. He removed his teeth from her neck for a moment to speak into her ear, sending more shivers down her spine.

"I've got your 'proof' right here." He purred, his smirk nearly audible. He shoved her down again once more. "HERE!!"

He gave a rough thrust forward as he spoke, filling her quickly once again and earning a yelping moan; but this time, he didn't stop. A mixture of pain and pleasure racked her body as he kept up the rough thrusts, simultaneously twisting her arm more behind her back to hold her there. She couldn't stop the now loud moans and whines she gave as she panted, nearly digging her nails into the metal table supporting her. She could feel the pulses of her muscles threatening to tighten and mutate as she was slammed into nearly mercilessly, her fingers creating small dents in the material as she forced her mutation back once she felt a familiar flutter in her chest. He seemed to notice, letting out a low chuckle through his own grunts and growls.

It wasn't long before she felt the sudden waves of an orgasm, making her give a loud cry as she shifted under him, pressing back against him for a moment. She reached forward quickly and gripped the edge of the table, easily denting and nearly crushing it in her grip with light cries as he continued his thrusts through the tightening spasms. Her body shook while he didn't slow down. Instead, he increased his movements, and she almost felt tears come to her eye with the overwhelming sensation.

Her other arm was suddenly freed as he moved to grip both of her hips, leaning down to bite at her shoulder once more with low grunts and growls. He kept going... Oh god, he kept going. She couldn't speak, the only noises leaving her throat being whines and cries. She couldn't help but lean into his jaw, almost begging him for more despite the overstimulation. Her neck was bitten multiple times as if she were being marked, each bite breaking the skin with ease. Beads of blood slowly dripped from the wounds and over her skin every time he let go, only to feel his teeth elsewhere. She felt tightness below her belly once more as she let out a wavering cry of his name, only to be met with slower thrusts and a growl at her ear.

"What do you want, Emelia?" He growled, his voice low and strained. She couldn't help but squirm and push back against him with whining whimpers as he slowed more, quickly becoming frustrated and seemingly desperate. No... No, why was he stopping... Why was he slowing down?!

"N-.. N-No...!! D-Don't- fuck- D-Don't slow-...!!" She managed, earning a dangerous chuckle.

"Tell me Emelia, or I swear to God I'll stop right NOW." He played. She could hear the smirk in his voice as he spoke. She knew this was amusing to him... It was payback for her insults. Her body shook out of desperation and anger as the thrusts slowed considerably, and she put her forehead against the table with a growling whine. He held her hips in place against the table to prevent her from moving against him. She couldn't take it anymore... She wouldn't even try to fight it. It was as if she were being denied a prize, and she hated it already.

"F-Fuck- I-" she started, barely able to get words out, "Y-YOU Heisenberg, you bloody idiot!!! I want YOU!!!" She finally yelled, her voice cracking somewhat. "J-Just... D-Don't... Don't FUCKING stop!!! Fuck- PLEASE!!"

She could almost feel the pride-filled smirk he gave in knowing he had won, but she didn’t care... Her little outburst gave her slight confidence as he chuckled, his last breath coming as a low growl.. She jumped as she suddenly felt an arm around her waist, roughly pulling her back towards him as his other hand reached to pin and hold hers as if keeping her in place. A wavering whine left her lips as he gave a possessive growl, looming over her with obvious intent.

"Good girl." He grumbled, only giving her a chance to inhale before returning to the powerful, near brutal thrusts from before, pulling her to him with each movement.

She didn't even attempt to hide her voice again, her cries and moans growing louder with each passing second. She almost didn't want the feeling to end, allowing herself to melt into him as her back arched into his chest.

"D-Don't... D-Don't stop... F-FUCK- Don't stop...!!!" She repeated, her voice wavering with uneven pants and gasps.

"You. Are. MINE." He suddenly growled in her ear, not letting her respond before biting into her shoulder once more.

More electric pulses were sent through her piercings, nearly making her scream while gripping the hand over hers. The orgasm she felt then was strong, traveling through her body in waves and overstimulation as the pulses continued. The feeling was amplified as he kept moving for a few seconds, finally pressing her roughly against the table with a loud, wavering growl and swear as he came as well. She let out another gasping moan as she felt him twitch inside of her, shuddering with the light warmth she felt at the pit of her stomach.

The room was filled with the sound of their panting and deep breaths as their rode their highs, and Emelia finally relaxed against the table with a shaky, satisfied sigh while still panting. She felt... good. Great, actually... Very sore now, as well as numb, but good nonetheless. It was as if any frustration she felt had melted away with the thin layer of sweat on her body. She gave a quiet whimper as she felt Heisenberg shift somewhat. He removed his jaws from her shoulder, nudging her head and pressing his cheek against hers as his grip on her loosened to allow her to relax more.

"Are you alright, Emmy?" He asked quietly, his voice low and catching her off guard enough to flinch. She only made a small, confused noise as she glanced over. He chuckled, catching a glimpse of the residual pleasured tears that stained her cheek. He reached over, dragging his thumb over her skin to wipe them away. "Is that a yes?"

She kept her eye on him for a moment before giving a small nod and setting her head back on the table. She attempted to shift, but found her body was... unable to move. The numbness had begun to turn into the feeling of being a puddle, she found. Her muscles shook as she tried to push herself up, and she almost collapsed under him. He nearly laughed while kept his grip on her waist, keeping her upright while he watched in interest.

"Would you like some help?"

"N... N-No, I..." she tried, her voice quiet. There was silence for a moment before she gave a shaky sigh, putting her head down once more in defeat. "... y-yes..."

"I thought so." He chuckled, finally pulling himself away with a quiet grunt. She could hear the amusement in his voice. "Alright. Keep steady, now."

Emelia glanced back as he partially adjusted himself, not bothering to fully fix his pants before he let go of her waist. A small panic entered her chest as her legs began to collapse under her, barely able to use the table to keep herself up before she felt him at her side. Her body shook as she tried to lean up once more, reaching to hold on to Heisenbergs arm as he draped it across her shoulders. He didn't even flinch as she leaned her full weight on him, and he chuckled.

"Come on, then." He said, suddenly leaning down once she was fully off the table. She let out a surprised yelp as he swept his other arm behind her knees, bringing her up into a cradling position against his chest as she held onto him tightly. She tightened her grip more as he started to walk, her face red. "Something wrong?" He asked, amusement thick in his voice. She watched his movements, only somewhat relaxing as they neared the bed.

"N-No..." she replied quietly, slowly easing herself in a sitting position the tattered covers as he set her down, wincing again at the soreness she felt. While the fabrics weren't always the best for relaxing, right now they were comforting, and a godsend for her shaking muscles. She then jumped as he sat down himself before he laid beside her with a huff. She stared at him for a moment as he held his arm out for her. What was he doing...?

"Well?" He asked expectantly, raising a brow as she looked confused.

"... what?"

He rolled his eyes.

"You're wearing my shirt Emmy, the least you could do is lay down."

"What-" she started, only to look down. "O-Oh... um..." She had admittedly forgotten what she had been wearing, and sheepishly pulled the shirt over her now throbbing shoulders and neck. She then adjusted herself on the mattress with a quiet grunt. "Ok..."

"NOW you're embarrassed??" He asked, nudging her arm slightly. "Should I describe, in detail, what I just did to you?"

She glared at him and gave a small huff as she managed to lay down.

"Shut up..." she mumbled, somewhat begrudgingly cuddling onto his chest as he smirked.

"It was an honest question."

Emelia only grumbled in response, though relaxed as she felt his arm go around her. She adjusted her head on his chest, pausing as she felt a heartbeat. It was slow and rhythmic, lulling her into a relaxed breathing pattern. He glanced at her as her arm wrapped over his chest as well, though he froze as she mindlessly began to trace over some of the smaller scars over his skin. She watched her own fingers move, an amused smile creeping on her face as she felt him tense and relax at her touch. She tilted her head slightly as she heard a light grumbling from his chest, her fingers pausing. He shifted under her, and she looked up to meet his eyes.

"What...?" She asked, resuming the movements. She watched as his eyes traveled between her and her fingers multiple times, his breathing easy with small grumbles in each inhale.

"Nothing." He replied simply, only to lift his chin slightly in confusion as she moved her hand to the scar across his neck. She felt his breath hitch as she traced it, and he looked at her again. "What are you doing, Emmy?"

"Nothing." She copied, almost laughing as he rolled his eyes.

"Don't get soft on me now Emelia, just earlier you were threatening me." He snorted.

"I still can if you would rather that."

"Hm. No, I'd rather fuck you again."

She went silent for a moment, her face heating up once more with embarrassment. "You said you wouldn't break me." She huffed.

Heisenberg gave a chuckle before turning to face her, gaining a smirk when she looked at him in surprise.

"I won't. I can't, actually." He said matter-of-factly, suddenly pushing her shoulder to have her lay on her back. She jumped, staring up at him in a stunned silence. "That doesn't mean I can't try. I haven't had that much fun in years, and I know you're durable. So am I."

"I-I can tell..." Emelia managed, clearing her throat slightly. Well, she knew he had a point... Despite being sore, she still felt oddly energized... Sure, the light exhaustion was there, but she knew she would have gone back to work immediately if she were physically able to. And she had to admit... She enjoyed this. It felt... normal. Almost.

She kept her eye on him for a moment before taking a breath. Was she really debating on this? The reality of the current situation hit her full force like Sturm on a rampage. She was silent for another moment before gulping slightly.

"What... What is... 'this' , exactly...?" she asked, her voice quiet. Karl drew back slightly, caught off guard by the question.

"Excuse me...??"

"I... You... You piss me off, Heisenberg..." she started, her arms resting at the sides of her head. Each movement of her shoulders resulted in a dull pain from his teeth, and his mouth twitched as he realized. She paused as she saw the smallest... tiniest twinge of regret in his eyes. But she shook her head, looking down at herself.

"I don't... I've been here for... only a short time compared to you, Karl... And now I... We do... THIS..." she continued, looking back up at him as he held his place over her. "What are we doing...?"

It was his turn to stay silent, obviously contemplating his answer. She had seen the same look on his face when discussing important factory matters... It almost made her feel better.

"What do you want from it?" He asked finally, tilting his head with a light shrug. She blinked.

"... What?"

He rolled his eyes, giving a small smirk.

"Ah, who's asking the hard questions now?" He played, chuckling as she glared at him. "I don't quite care what this leads to, I know what my goals are." He explained. "What are yours? What do YOU want out of it?"

"I..." she started, looking to the side. "... I don't know."

"Then don't worry about it!"

"But I-"

"Look, Emelia. If you can't figure it out, then focus on something else. Is it really worth wasting the energy if you don't know right away?" He asked.

She was silent. He... He was right.

"That... That's the most intelligent thing I've ever heard you say."

She nearly laughed at his insulted expression.

"Hey-"

"I'm joking, Metalhead..." She sighed with a small smile. There was silence for a moment before she finally gave a huff. "Just... For now just..."

"Come on, we don't have all day." Heisenberg joked, smirking as she glared at him.

"... Shut up you daft idiot." She growled finally, reaching to yank him down by his necklaces.

The movement startled him, but he seemed to know exactly what to do as his lips met hers with a light chuckle. The kiss was... gentle, oddly enough, but she relaxed once more under him. Light shivers traveled up her spine as she felt his fingers travel along her skin. The shirt was fully unbuttoned once again and nudged to her sides, and she took a deep breath as she felt the air on her chest. She only whined as her legs were moved, making him pause. There was a soreness between them from his roughness beforehand, sending small waves of a low, pulsing pain through her body. He gave a questioning hum against her lips, and she spoke against his.

"Sore..." she admitted quietly, feeling his amused smile.

"Good." He replied simply, adjusting himself and his pants to rest between her thighs. Emelia let out a quiet whimper as she was rubbed against, her legs shaking against his hips and her arms reaching out to his onto and wrap around his shoulders.

The dull throbbing sensation continued as he pushed into her once more, earning a somewhat pained whine as her back arched. It hurt... But the feeling lessened to a light sting after a few seconds, and she took lighter breaths. She couldn't help but wonder as he stayed still, his words and question playing in her mind as he returned to his position of leaning on his forearms over her. What DID she want from this...? Did she truly wish for any sort of stability from this? Or just survival? Maybe this was the first and last time she'd experience this, or maybe it would be regular. Did she WANT it to be regular, though? She didn't know... All she knew was that his touch swung wildly between rough and gentle every time he touched her, even before this. He always switched between harsher interactions and kind ones, making her angry and thankful at the same time. And yet, when he touched her NOW... Even while over the table, it was almost careful, hesitant to push her too far even while leaving bruises in her skin. Somehow, while sharing this intimacy, he was a perfect mix of the two. And somehow, it calmed her and even gave a small hope in the back of her mind.

Her thoughts stopped, letting out a breathy moan into the kiss as he started moving, this time at a slow pace. This time she kept her arms around him, hugging him close enough for their bare chests to press against each other. Her breaths and moans came from a different sort of pleasure, almost willing to believe that sharing this with him would allow some sort of normalcy. Her nails dug into his shoulders as he set a careful, hard rhythm, one of his arms moving down to press his hand against her stomach.

A single second passed before Heisenberg sent a low pulse of electricity through her body and piercings, causing her back to arch as she pulled away from the kiss with a gasping whine. She felt as he lowered his head with a low groan, starting to kiss and nibble along her jaw. Her nails dug into his back as his movements increased somewhat, creating more scratches to match the ones he already had. Her voice came out in quiet whines and moans into his ear as she clung to him. Sure this was making the soreness worse, but she almost couldn't tell between the low pulses and thrusts coming from the man. Her body shook while simultaneously encouraging more. She WANTED more... She already admitted as much to herself. Another whine escaped her lips as he nibbled just below her ear.

"Fuck, Emmy...~" he nearly purred into her ear, lifting her hips slightly and switching to smaller quick thrusts.

"K-... K-Karl-! F-FUCK-" she managed, her voice breaking somewhat as she allowed her legs to loosen at his sides to bring him closer. She whimpered as he suddenly leaned up, her nails digging and sliding down to his biceps before gripping them as she felt a familiar tightness below her belly; he could feel it, too.

Emelia suddenly held her breath in a surprised, wavering gasp as he slid his hand up her body from the belly piercing, his fingers dragging along the large scar on her chest before lingering and pressing against the sides of her neck. Her whines and moans continued, even as his hand moved higher to her jaw. She then jumped as his thumb pushed past her parted lips, resting on her tongue. She attempted to look up at him, but found it difficult to even keep her eye open... Heisenberg gave a low chuckle at the sight, pushing on her jaw slightly. He didn't even have to say a word as her mouth nearly closed around his thumb. Her whines and whimpers grew louder and her grip on him tightened, and she could only gasp as he pulled his thumb from her mouth and replaced it with his own.

The kiss was returned instantaneously, followed by her wavering, now muffled cry as she finally came once more. He grunted into the kiss as she tightened around him, her legs wrapping around his waist once more while her back arched. She wrapped her arms fully around his shoulders with overstimulated whines as his pace quickened before he finally let out his own wavering moan against her lips. She joined him with her own moan as he shoved his hips against hers, feeling the warmth enter her as he rode out his own orgasm with shaking muscles. God, it felt... It felt good... The warmth and twitching from him kept her whines going as they panted, her body shaking under him.

Both were silent for several moments, the kiss lessening to gentle movements before breaking.

"D-... D-Damn..." Emelia nearly squeaked, her head rolling to the side as her jaw was nuzzled.

"Hm. Are you alright?" Heisenberg asked, earning a small nod.

"... gonna be sore..." she replied quietly, relaxing somewhat as he kept his face against hers. He chuckled.

"You wanted it."

"Shush..." she huffed. Her breathing eased, feeling his smile against her skin. This was... Nice, she had to admit... An uncomfortable whine left her lips as he began to push himself up and away, only pausing as her legs twitched around him to keep him there. "N-No... stay..." she whined, watching as he raised a brow. "... P-Please..."

"I've never heard you say 'please' this much." He joked, earning a light glare. But he simply returned to his place over her with an amused chuckle, nearly laying on her.

She was relaxed despite nearly his entire weight on her torso, though she had no issues. He was really warm... She could almost purr with the warmth both on top of and inside her, the feeling relaxing her to the point of her limbs going lax around him. She felt him chuckle against her skin, taking a breath as his lips found her bruised neck. But her mind wandered elsewhere, and she found herself pressing her cheek to his.

"Can we... Not talk about this...?" She asked quietly, earning a confused hum as he glanced at her.

"Oh? What do you mean?"

"J-Just... Um..." she tried, turning her head to look at him. "M-Maybe this could be... just... stress relief...?"

She jumped as Heisenberg shifted, his face now hovering over hers with their noses together.

"Just stress relief?" He asked, amusement dancing in his eyes as her face reddened. "Is that what you want?"

She simply nodded, her fingers traveling over small scars that covered his upper back and shoulders. 'For now...' she thought. Wait, 'for now'...?? Did she really mean that...? She was pulled out of her thoughts as he pressed a quick kiss to her forehead.

"Then so be it." Heisenberg said simply, meeting her gaze. She stared up at him before nodding and taking a breath. But he moved before she had a chance to even think, wrapping his arm around her waist. "Hold on."

"What-" she tried, only to cling to him with a surprised yelp as he pushed against the mattress to lean up with her against his chest. She let out a light whine as she was shifted on him, small sparks shooting up her spine as she was settled against his hips while he sat and leaned back against the wall. He couldn't help but smirk as she let out a whimper, her legs twitching. "Better?"

"I..." she tried, though couldn't manage words as she felt him shift against her to make himself comfortable. So she simply nodded before leaning against his chest.

It was his turn to freeze as she nuzzled to his neck, giving a pleased sigh as his arms hesitantly went around her waist. She relaxed against him, enjoying the warmth he gave and the feeling of his arms around her.

"... You're warm..." she said quietly, earning a surprised chuckle.

"I would almost hope so." He replied, reaching up and under the shirt she still wore to drag his fingers along small scars on her back. He smiled as she relaxed. "I'm going to assume you're not moving any time soon?"

He nearly laughed as she nodded against his shoulder.

"Fair assumption..." she mumbled, closing her eye.

While she wasn't necessarily tired, there was a sliver of exhaustion in her chest. She had to admit, there was still pain from the bite marks that now covered her neck and shoulders, and the soreness of her legs came as a dull throbbing. But she oddly didn't mind... She held her breath as she realized her enjoyment of this. The touches, the intimacy... Even the dull pains she felt. Maybe she didn't even mind HIM...

No, no... She DID mind him. Did she...? She still found him infuriating... But the way he held her now was... Well, it made her question quite a bit.

She finally sighed, relaxing fully against him. She focused on his touches against her back instead of the thoughts in her mind, willfully ignoring them for once. She'd enjoy what she had for now... Her attention went to the sounds of his heart and distant machinery, letting them lull her into a light sleep. She didn't NEED she sleep at the moment, but to her, it was almost perfect.

She only hoped it would stay that way.

#oc #resident evil #resident evil oc #resident evil village #resident evil village fanfiction #resident evil village oc #re8oc #re8 #heisenberg #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x oc #heisenberg x oc #karl heisenberg smut #lord heisenberg #smut #lovelywingsocs #LovelyWings Writes #Metalworks Fanfiction #heisenberg fanfiction

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birdsaesthetic · 3 years

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My Guardian Angel

Summary: In the dead of the night, Jane’s stitches start bleeding…. 5x05 tag. On fanfiction.

Note: THANKS to @lurkingwhump for sending me the prompt: "Jane being ill or injured and Kurt giving her some TLC, or Jane's suffering from night terrors/nightmares and Kurt comforts her."

Kurt kissed Jane good-night, made sure she was comfortable in bed, and asked her if she needed, or even wanted, anything at all, his own heart included. But she shook her head with the tiniest of smiles, whispered her love to him, and that she was good, as long as he was beside her, within hand reach.

There was the dull pain, still, throughout her entire body after the surgery she had earlier, but she said nothing about it, and insisted to sleep it off. And she did, almost immediately, only to be woken up yet again by another nightmare in the dead of the night, her breathing rapid, her mouth dry, and her stomach stinging in pain she wished she were still having the same awful nightmare instead.

She cried quietly, even soundlessly, as she saw flashes of the nightmare in her vision, and endured the pain all alone. She shed a great amount of unbidden, salty tears, like she'd never done before, and they easily slid from her eyes to her cheeks, down her neck, before dampening the pillow. It was too much. The nightmares; the reality; the misery; the pain; the could have happeneds.

A full minute passed, two, three, then she had the slightest courage to place a shaking, cold hand on her wound beneath the sweater, and found out that the bandage was soggy, sloppy. There must be blood, lots of it, it must be bleeding again, she thought. Goddamnit.

When she pressed on it in an attempt to stop it, helpless yet brave, she was rewarded with such sharp, fast pain—as fast as the speed of light. Someone else might've screamed their heart out at that, but she didn't. She swallowed it, as her breathing got heavier, her heart skipped a beat, and her eyes squeezed tight in pain that seemed to transport her to another state, one in which everything, even the past she'd been working so hard to forget, seemed to fade into a gray watercolor wash.

"Kurt," she whispered, or tried to, withdrawing her hand from beneath the sweater. But when he didn't seem to respond, she whispered his name again and again and again, like a prayer, her voice needy, cracking, and scared. "Kurt…Kurt…Kurt."

It took Kurt some time to come to consciousness, and realize that his name was being repeated in the present, softly, and that the voice was Jane's, his Jane, not from the nightmare where he was being restricted to a chair by the enemy, unable to move, helpless by all means. But then he turned over like the world was coming to an end and propped himself up on his elbows, his mind fuzzy for the first seconds before it became alert. Wasting no more second, he stumbled on his way down to Jane on bed. "You okay?" he blurted.

"No… My wound…" Despite all the sweat she had exuded by now, she was shivering when he laid a hand on her, and in the semidarkness, she took a glimpse of his eyes and saw warmth, life, hope. He, from his point of view, saw tears shimmering in her eyes. Saw the pain, too. His heart sank, and quickly yet carefully, with feather-like hands he reveled on her wound, and by now it looked haphazardly covered in red-soaked bandages. Every alarm in his body sat off at the sight, and he clenched his jaw, forced himself to calm down and assess the damage, see his options. He could go and get Patterson and Rich and Tasha right here so he could use the help. But he wouldn't leave her alone while bleeding. He wouldn't. He would have to do this on his own, here and now and quickly.

"Kurt…is it that bad?" Jane asked between gritted teeth. She couldn't bring herself to have a look herself, and now she watched her husband stare down at her with intense concentration while frowning his brows.

"It's bleeding, but I'll clean it, okay?" he told her, before rushing straight to turn on the lights, wash his hands, grip the first aid kit, and return to her in bed. He looked at her face tight in pain and, with shaking hands, he put on a pair of gloves. "It'll be okay, Janie," he reassured her, "It'll sting a little, maybe, but it won't hurt much."

She only managed to nod, deep down knew exactly how much it'd hurt, and it'd be more than just a little. "I'm ready", she confirmed, biting her lip to hold a whimper in so Kurt wouldn't feel bad.

He began with exposing her abdomen to the fullest then, holding his breath, he discarded the bandage, to which she let out a hiss, and her hands flinched, almost pushed his away. But instead she took fistfuls of the blanket beside her, and steeled herself for what was yet to come. After Kurt threw the bloody bandage, and was about to do the cleaning, he looked her in the eye. "You have to tell me when it's painful, Janie," he said, as he breathed and sweated and prayed for her in his head.

"I trust you… It won't be painful," she whispered, eyes only half open, lips pale, forehead creased in a plea for him to get her out of her misery. If he could, he'd have stopped the time, taken away all the pain in a heartbeat. She didn't deserve this. His wife. Jane. Kind. Strong. Lovely. Resilient. Ass-kicker. Beautiful. Unstoppable. Talented. So damn stubborn. But all he could do right now was this, cleaning her wound quickly yet gently before it'd get any worse.

"Stay with me. Keep breathing. It'll be quick," he told her, as he got one of the gauzes wet with saline solution. "You're gonna hate me right now, but try to—"

"I'll never hate you," she rushed to say, shaking her head. "Never."

"You sure?" He began cleaning, gently wiping all the oxidized blood away. Jane winced once that gauze came into contact with the fresh stitches on her abdomen. The skin around the wound was so fragile, so delicate, and it stung like a fire. "Deadly sure."

After stealing one look at her determined face, committing it to memory, Kurt continued, frowning at the way the gauze was already staining with Jane's blood. But he continued, replacing the gauze and wetting it and wiping as needed. She… She was painting by now, her body jolting, and so Kurt wanted to talk her down. "You said…that you are deadly sure you won't hate me? Huh? Even if I might be hurting you now?"

"You're healing me…" she corrected. "I'm…in the safest hands I could ever—" She gasped, aloud and hoarsely, as her head lifted from the pillow. "Fuck—it's painful, Kurt."

"Scale of one to ten?"

"Seven. Eight."

"I'm sorry," Kurt replied. "I'm almost done, I promise. Two more minutes, okay?"

Jane's head fell back to the pillow, and she didn't nod, nor showed any indication that she'd heard him. But she did count to something close to hundred, making herself go slowly. Slowly. Slowly. Slowly. Until she lost count, before losing full consciousness…

It would be the most pleasant way to go, to die in his arms. Her husband. Kurt. Brave. One of a kind. Loving. Caring. Owns the sexiest of smiles. Deadly when needed be. Overprotective. Loyal to the marrow. But it wouldn't be fair to leave him behind, alone, just because things didn't go their way. They were supposed to spend their lives together, share happiness and sadness together, get older together, against all odds. It was true and unfortunate that they may not have everything they used to have: freedom, family, safety, good reputation, property, some kind of control. But truly, they did have everything they needed: each other, and friends for life.

There were fingers brushing against her cheek with surprising gentleness when she fluttered her eyes open, and she hummed—not in pain any more but in contentment. And then, there he was, her guardian angel, wearing a smile that she'd trade the world for it. He inched closer to her in bed.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, just when he reached for her hand and dotted it with kisses.

"Better." Last time she saw the same hand he was kissing now, it was covered with blood. Her own blood. But right now it was clean and warm and being kissed by him.

"How long have I been out?"

"Six hours." He smiled sadly. "Was it that painful?"

"Honestly?"

"Yeah?"

"It was more painful than being shot…and as painful as the surgery. But—"

"I'm sorry."

"Hey, doesn't matter. I'll be okay." She touched his cheek to comfort the two of them. "Really, though, what I would do without you, Kurt?"

"Let's not think about that."

They shared a smile, a kiss, and a moment of comforting silence.

#feel free to send me prompts #blindspot #blindspotfic #Jeller #my other fics

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yandere-wishes · 4 years

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💔Rotten Love💔 //Twisted Wonderland Yandere Idia Shroud X Yandere Eliza X Reader// Part 1

GIF made by the amazing @flowerofthemoonworld. Okay, so this story is really going to have a Persephone x Reader x Hades vibe to it. If we can get this to 160 likes before July 12 than I’ll release part 2. For now, my goal is to make it a 4 part story with a bonus 5th fluff chapter. Also for this story reader will be GENDER NEUTRAL.

WARNING: Gore, Angst

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There was always a cold, nostalgic air in the Ignihyde dormitory, a sort of homey sensation that made Eliza's heart skip a beat. Sure the dorm was quiet and secluded, unlike the ghost kingdom, there was barely anyone to talk to. Most may have even described it as "lonesome" and "boring". But to princess Eliza who had waited more than five hundred years to be with her prince charming, it was unadulterated, homespun bliss. Of course, there was still something missing, a tiny puzzle piece that refused to fit in with the rest of its kind, a stubborn little piece it was, yet all too important to paint the picture of her perfect life. That mulish fragment came in the form of her newly wedded husband, Idia Shroud.

"Idia~"

The "young" princess sang as she skipped over to where her "husband" was sitting, his posture crooked, like that of a scrunched up cat's. His long slender fingers where typing rapidly on that bizarre rectangular device that he all too attached to. Way too attached to, for Eliza's liking.

Eliza nuzzled her visage into the crook of the bleached-skinned boy's neck, taking in his smokey, ash-like sent. Her icy colored arms wafted over his shoulders, enclosing them his a tight embrace. Her fingers dangled over where his heart was, feeling tiny fast-paced pulses that sent a pleased blush to her face. "Idia let's go for a walk near that river. Please, my love! You haven't left this room since the reception!"

The taller male barely turned to look at her, preferring to instead to keep his eyes locked on his glowing blue screen. "Still busy Eliza" his cold dead voice was always so sharp and monotone whenever he spoke to her. It felt like someone was reaching into her rib cage and squeezing her decaying heart. Her voice cracked into a thousand tiny shards, as she tried to form a comprehensible answer. He might as well have told her to die again and rot in the deepest parts of hell. He doesn't love me....he'll never love me. The relation was like a heavy chronic toxic gas levitating overhead. Easy to overlook but still there, always there. Idia didn't move, if Eliza's arms weren't wrapped around his shoulders feeling every breath he took, she might have mistaken him for a statue. No, not a statue, she thought, some sort of sculpture of an ancient Greek God. A divine being set in stone resting in an altar, waiting for reparations and benedictions. 'I'd gladly pray at your feet every day. I'd sacrifice everything I had just for you to smile that charming smile at me'. The ghost thought to herself.

For an endless minute, the darkroom fell into a thick, suffocating silence. Neither Eliza nor Idia moved both too scared of breaking some invisible glass wall they had put up around them. However, no amount of serenity could dispose of the awkwardness, and annoyance Idia was beginning to feel. "You know" the lord of the dead began "maybe you should talk to the principle about join the school full time. It would give you more to do than breathing over my shoulder" despite Idia's tone harboring no malice, Eliza still flinched in shock. Her body going rigid, stiffening as if she was going into Rigor Mortis again.

HE DOESN'T WANT YOU HERE!

The voice in her head screamed,

HE HATES YOU!

Louder...

WHY CANT YOU LEAVE HIM ALONE

"Please stop" she whispered

YOU DON’T DESERVE YOUR PRINCE!

"If that's what you want" she finally replied in a broken voice.

"I'm... I'm only saying it for your sake," he muttered in a coaxing tone.

Deep down a delusional part of her wanted to scream that he was only saying all those harsh things for her own well-being. But she was still lucid enough to not believe those fallacies, imaginary words...Eliza perceived that her beloved prince Idia saw her as nothing more than a nuisance. One that he was far too eager to get rid of.

She couldn't bear the conversation any farther. Painfully slowly she peeled her arms off from around her so-called lover. In that taunting minute, Eliza swore she could feel billions upon billions of sharp needles piercing every piece of her dead body. She lingered in place staring at Idia's glowing, blazing hair. She didn't want to leave, she wanted to spend every second of her dead life with him! Touching him, kissing him, loving him! But he wouldn't love her! Why didn't he love her!! Without a customary goodbye or any form of acknowledgment, Eliza flew to the door. Swinging it open just a crack, wishing to slam it so hard that the whole underworld dorm would feel it. But alas she was still royalty and there was a politeness beaten into her every action. In the end after much debating, she closed the damn door quieter than a mouse. With a broken heart and eyes full of tears, princess Eliza began to hover up onto the surface of the school grounds.

WHY DOESN'T THAT SELFISH BASTARD LOVE ME!

A simple blaring thought that reverberated through Eliza's nonexistent skull as she marched through the glowing green halls of Night Raven College. Unlike Ignihyde, the rest of the school still felt rather alien and terrifying to the girl. She'd only been in the cafeteria for a short amount of time. Only to finish up her official marriage to Idia. After the marriage -and much persuasion from his friend with grey hair and glasses- Idia had carried Eliza in the traditional manner a groom must carry a bride, to the hall of mirrors and straight to Ignyhde. Neither of them had left Idia's room since then.

It was a rather short memory but one that always placed a smile on Eliza's face. Rather than remembering the halls, Eliza had been all too bewitched by Idia's shy golden gaze, his bloody red face, and his kissable thin blue lips. Such a darling memory that she would always cherish within her rotten heart.

But as the minutes ticked away and Eliza passed hallway after hallway all identical to one another, she soon began to wish that she'd paid more attention to the whereabouts of the school's rooms and offices. The headmaster's office seemed to be missing from this endless maze. Behind every corner was the same tiled floor, candles lit by a mystical green light and windows so large they put the countless classroom doors to shame. Every few minutes a crowd of students would pass by, disappearing behind another wall withing second. No one noticed her, which was rather odd considering she was the only female in an all-boys school, her purple dress and feminine curves were proof enough of that. "I guess this is the result of being a ghost, wandering the land of the living" She whispered hopelessly to herself. "You're invisible when you're me..."

The eighth turn that Eliza took brought her to a small cluster of peculiar students. Some donning ears and tails like those of wild beasts, while the other had odd features resembling Ortho's limps. Metallic and reflective. They were laughing at something, attentions enclosed within their small groups. A measly thought flew into Eliza's head, why not speak up? Raise your voice and ask where she could locate the headmaster of this complex establishment.

"Excuse me."

“....”

Silence

None of the boys turned to her, they just continued with there chatter. Eliza opened her mouth to speak once more when she -rather unwillingly- picked up stray words from their conversation.

"It's not fair!" A tall lanky one with striped ears and tail whined

"Yeah! How come that useless shut-in gets to get married to a cute girl !" the second one was even taller, with thick furry grey ears that reminded Eliza of a wolf.

"Look man I don't know what Idia has that makes him so damn lucky! He's a useless wimp..." A Bold statement made by the one with metallic features.

Eliza was sure they continued bashing Idia but the phantom pain of blood coursing through her ears droned them out. How dare such hooligans speak ill of her beloved husband! Her fingers flexed in a robotic-like movement, stretching open than closing once more. Around her tiny flame-like spirits began to materialize, cute and cheery with big eyes and smiling mouths...until they noticed the distress of their mistress. the tiny things took a look around, grasping the situation from the loud words of the boys as well as Eliza's grim expression. Slowly the little flames began to merge with one another. Fusing into a large ax with a burning end. The weapon floated down to her hand, positioning itself smugly between her ghostly digits.

Eliza's eyes locked with the backs of the boys, she didn't know how this would work, could the ax could even harm the living? It may just phase through them as if nothing had happened....or it may price through there flesh and bones, tearing them in two. Hosting the ax up over her shoulder with both hands and taking a shaky step forward, Eliza lunged towards the first boy. In a swift flick of her wrist, the blade of the ax was pushing through the Ignihyde student's back. Splitting ceaselessly at the skin and urging past muscles until it reached the creamy colored bones. Eliza didn't stop there, her arms still pushing forward trying to get the heavy ax to break those pesky osseins. He had to pay for what he said! No one was permitted to speak ill of her one true love! A satisfying crack filled the air followed by a choir of screams. Only when the ax had finally resurfaced on the other side, covered in plasma and the remnants of organs, did Eliza turned her attention to the other two students. There eyes where enormous staring at her in disgust and fear...and something else. Something that -although it revolted her to her very core- she wished Idia would look at her with that same look in his eyes. A look of want, a look of need, pure lust, yet the welcoming sort ONLY if it was coming from the person you adored so much.

The blue-haired ghost didn't move, her semi existent body felt overworked. Everything hurt! Or at least she thought what she was feeling was the ghost equivalent to human pain. "Why.." her voice glitched at every syllable, like a broken cassette player. The two boys didn't answer instead taking shall strides backward. "WHY DID YOU SAY SUCH AWFUL THINGS ABOUT HIM!" in a split second, anger over ran Eliza's boy once more, dragging her and the ax forward until the blade came in contact with one of the animal eared men's neck. Slicing it so it flung backward, crashing onto the ground with loud "thud" then rolling around in its own gore. The last man stand, the one with monochrome ears pushed his palms forward, a pathetic attempt of shielding himself from her wrath. "W-we..we d-d-did...didn't-t mean...mean any..offense...honest!" His voice creaked as tears gushed from the corners of his eyes. "You're...you're just so...so...pretty...beautiful even...and...and...Shroud well...we...well, he's a loser who w-w-wouldn't kno--" his words were left half-finished, as Eiza's ax severed through him diagonally.

Her heart was pounding much too fast, that it was beginning to make her feel sick. Her legs finally gave up, sending her crashing onto the blood coated floor. Her bare knees dug into the red liquidy substance, finding an odd comfort in the warm human ichor. Eliza didn't know what to do, or even where to go. If she went back to Idia like this he would surely use it against her, Ortho was too young to be introduced to such a carnage...and she didn't know anyone else! "I'm all so very doomed" she sobbed as transparent tears trailed down her eyes.

"Hey" A distant voice spoke up. "What's wrong with her?" another voice, this one more high pitch and raspy. Eliza tore her face from her hands looking up at a group of three strangers and a cat...no, not strangers, she recognized the orange and blacked haired boy. They both had tried to crash her wedding. But the other person was new, they had a gentle look in their eyes, a welcoming stare that the princess longed for. "Hey ghost bride," The orange-haired boy spoke up, "need some help with your mess?" Eliza nodded meekly. Her body still limp and voice still too frail to speak. The last person, the one that had unexpectedly piqued Eliza's interest extended a hand towards her. And with only a scrap of hesitation, Eliza gripped it.

"Come on, we'll help you out!"

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Tags: @yandere-romanticaa @ghostiebabey @lovee-infected @mermaid-painter @firemelody4 also tagging @twstpasta and @delusional-obsessions cause I know they're huge Eliza fans.

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boxofbadaddiction · 4 years

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Whoever Broke Your Heart

George Weasley x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Cheating. Guy who doesn't understand the word "no". Teeny Tiny bit of Swearing.

Opening a Joke Shop was the best idea Fred and George ever had. It's what they were meant to do. What made them happier than one would think possible. At least that's what George had been trying to convince himself for the past few hours.

To tell the truth, this past week had been the most stressful so far, and they worked through the beginning of a war!

But now that that was over and Diagon Alley, like everywhere, was beginning to return to the new normal, the Twins had been flat out. Kids were preparing for the school year and in addition to their shop being near capacity every single day, mail orders were through the roof. It'd been like this for the past 3 weeks, but this week...This week could not possibly get any worse!

Between the eight new complaints from angry family members after falling victim to one of their products. To the three ruined displays after a customer 'accidentally' set off one of the boys 'Crazy Creatures' feature Fireworks which sparked a Lion to pounce throughout the store, until the Twins got it under control, it had managed to take out it's fair share of shelving and they had to close the store for a little over an hour to clean up. On the brightside they sold twelve of those that day after everyone saw it in action. Now, however, there weren't enough fireworks in the store to distract George from the mountain of paper work he'd been ignoring. Or from the fact he still couldn't get his latest invention to cooperate. He has completely HAD IT. In his opinion this week can well and truly go and get fuc-

"OI GEORGE! You're not still working in there are you!?" Fred called as he made his way to his brothers room.

Sure enough, there his Twin was. Slumped uncomfortably in his desk chair working reluctantly on the paperwork he'd neglected. With his head propped up by his palm he didn't even acknowledge his brothers entrance.

"For Merlin's sake, George. The stores closed mate, give yourself a break for a minute won't you?" Fred walked over to glance at the work spread haphazardly over the desk top.

"Later. I'm nearly done." George murmured.

"Bollocks you are." Fred replied lifting several order sheets from the pile to read through them. "You've been working non-stop lately, just let it slip for tonight, mate."

"I can't Fred!" He snapped in frustration. "We're so far behind it's ridiculous. I can't let it go because it needs to be done before open tomorrow!"

"We're not open tomorrow, George! It's Sunday!"

"What?" He looked up confusedly at his calender on the wall. "It's the 31st?"

"No." Fred dropped the papers in his hands and flipped the page of the calender, picking up a red marker which he used to circle the date. "It's the 5th, you numpty."

George threw his Quill onto the desk and pushed himself back into his chair, rubbing his eyes in frustration before running them through his hair with a groan. He had a whole day to get this done tomorrow. But here he was rushing through it like last minute revision before an exam because he can't keep track of what day it is. He relaxed at the thought of more time. Fred patted his shoulder with a slight chuckle, noticing much of the tension he'd been harbouring melt away.

"Worried for nothing" he joked. George looked up at him with a glare. Freds face dropped slightly, seeing the bloodshot whites of his Twins eyes and the dark circles beneath them. "Bloody hell...you really need a night out of here."

George stood to stretch his aching back and sighed satisfactorily as it cracked in several places. "Yeah. Maybe I do" he spoke honestly.

"Tell ya what, Georgie. I was gonna continue work on that Dragons Breath Candy of yours tonight anyway so" he dug his hand in his pocket and pulled out a bunch of coins counting quickly, "here's twenty galleons. Get out."

George tilted his head in question.

"Go eat, or drink, whatever. Just get out."

George wasn't feeling particularly energetic for a night out and opened his mouth to protest, but Fred was having none of it.

"UH! No. Take a shower, cause you reek. Then leave and I don't won't you back till you're truly hammered. Hear me?"

His brother smiled half-heartedly and sent up a mock salute with a playfully stern expression.

Feeling far more refreshed than he had 20 minutes ago thanks to a good hot shower, George readdied himself to leave, grabbing his keys then quickly apparating to the entrance of the Leaky Cauldron. True, it wasn't a particularly long walk but honestly...he just couldn't be bothered.

The Pub was decently full but given the fact it was barely past eight on a Saturday night, one would actually consider it quite empty.

Shuffling past the groups of people drinking and talking throughout the room he quickly made his way to the bar. He stood to the right of what appeared to be a couple, leaning his body against the counter as he ordered a Fire Whiskey. He pulled a vacant stool toward himself to sit down as he paid for his drink. He simply sat, contently sipping his beverage, listening to the music as he felt himself relax considerably finally having time away from the stress of work. A few minutes passed before something to his left caught his attention. The couple he'd sat next to, or rather what he now gathered was an uncomfortable woman and some insufferable git who clearly didn't understand the word 'no'.

He was relentless in trying to persuade the woman to join him for a dance...then a drink...then how bout a date...then a-OKAY! George had heard enough.

"Oi, mate." He shouted slightly to be heard over the noise of the room, he tapped the man's shoulder to make it clear he was the one he was talking to. He turned slowly with a sour look of disgust at the interruption. "Give it a rest won't you? She's clearly not interested."

The girl shifted slightly in her chair, distancing herself from the man who refused to leave her alone. She clutched her drink within her hands tightly, trying to appear invisible one would assume.

"You with her are you?" The man spoke as he turned his body to face George, eyeing him with a rude expression.

"No."

"Then sod off. You're not one to know what she wants."

"Given the 8 times she's told you 'no' in the past 5 minutes I'd say I know exactly what she wants. For you to leave her alone."

The girl couldn't help but smile slightly at the redheads boldness of words. The man on the other hand was quickly becoming agitated. He straightened himself and took a menacing step forward, nostrils flaring. George didn't budge. Unphased by the man's movements, he simply sipped his drink with a deadpan expression.

"You tryna spark a problem, buddy?"

"Merely attempting to resolve one." George spoke smoothly.

"I don't see one here needing your help." He hissed.

"That'd be because you're it. So unless you'd like me to conjure you a mirror I'm afraid you'll remain quite blind." He took another sip of his drink. "The girls not interested. Leave her alone."

"Oh she looks plenty interested to me" the angry man spoke "just playing hard to get" he smirked stepping back a pace and wrapping his arm around the woman's side. George noticed her cringe at the contact moving away from him in her seat.

George placed his drink on the counter and stood slowly. His movements making the man drop his arm and puff his chest to appear bigger than he was. Stares never leaving one another as the redhead turned his body to face the arrogant man, looking down on him as if he were something unpleasant stuck to his shoe. Towering in comparison, a good head taller than he was caused a flash of unease to spead across the face of the offender. Evidently he had not realised the full size of the man infront of him while he was seated.

"Leave." George spoke in a deep and threatening voice. Eyes like daggers peircing all confidence the man before him previously held.

In an attempt to gain some composure and try not appear to be fleeing the git scoffed. Throwing a lame insult at the two of them before grabbing his drink and sulking away into the small crowd. George stood in place like a statue until the man had disappeared from sight completely. Posture and expression immediately softening as he turned back to the woman by the bar "are you alright?".

"Fine. Thank you." She spoke swiftly. Not turning to face him clearly wanting to be left alone as her body was still stiff and rigid. George looked at her unsure of what to say. "Do you need anything?".

"No. I'm fine. And I'd appreciate being left alone." She snapped turning her head ever slightly toward him as she did so. He tried to not take it personally as he noted the emotion held in her eyes and the slight tremble in her lips. The way she sat as if trying to restrain herself from something. Her drink, obviously bought long ago as the ice had all melted and the condensation had formed a large ring around the base of her glass. She'd probably been here long before that tosser showed up.

George sat, facing back to his glass not wanting to disturb her any further. She was beautiful he thought, and had the circumstances been different he probably would have been tempted to buy her a drink. But he knew now definitely wasn't the time, even if he just couldn't shake the feeling he needed to say something.

He eyed her curiously and cautiously, not wanting to appear as another weirdo incapable of understanding boundaries. Watching her stare sorrowfully at a Golden Diamond ring she fiddled with in her hands, a tear slipping down her cheek. It all made sense now. He raised his drink slowly to his lips, looking forward.

"Whoever broke your heart, must have been crazy."

She turned to him instantly, a very confused expression on her face as she watched him toss his head back to finish his drink. He signalled to the bartender for another before turning his head to look at her.

Mouth agape slightly as she furrowed her brows at him. He couldn't help the smile that came at her reaction, he nodded toward the ring in her hands.

"Engagement ring, is it not?" He reached for his new drink without taking his eyes off her. She stared at it for a moment before answering solemnly. "It was."

She bit her lip while turning the ring over on her finger tips, as if unsure whether or not to continue. George reminded silent, not wanting to force anything from her she wasn't comfortable with. "I caught him cheating little over a week ago."

"He's a git." He said abruptly taking a mouthful of whiskey. The girl laughed at this turning to look at him.

"You sound so sure."

"I'm certain."

"You don't even know his name"

"No, but I've got a couple for him."

She laughed loudly this time, having to look away from him to compose herself. George could have listened to that laugh all night, he was suddenly very thankful for Fred all but pushing him out of the flat earlier.

When she turned back to face him her cheeks were burning pink and she'd bit her lip slightly. He was taken by her completely. Which is stupid, he thought, because he doesn't even know her name. Shit. He doesn't know her name!

"I'm George, by the way" he reached his arm out to her.

"[Y/N]" she smiled taking his hand.

"Can I buy you a fresh drink?" He nodded toward the warm, flat beverage sat infront of her.

Hesitating slightly she stared into his eyes before nodding with a sincere smile.

They spoke for ages about Everything. Nothing. Hell anything that came up. He couldn't work out how someone could possibly have said goodbye to a girl like her. Nobody in their right mind could. He was smitten, with all of her. The way she smiled. Her laugh. They way she bit her lip when she tried not to blush. The way she played with her hair. He was oblivious to everything in that pub except her. As she was with him.

That was until the distinct sound of her favourite song peirced her ears. She hadn't taken her eyes off him for more than a second since he bought her that first drink, and there'd been a lot since then. Suddenly she was looking over at the band in the corner, smiling.

"I love this song"

He didn't know why the idea came to him, probably from the overwhelming urge to touch her he's been resisting for so long. To hold her. Kiss her. Guess this works as well...

He stood, finishing his drink in a single gulp and held his hand out for her. "Come on."

"What?"

"We're going to dance" he grinned at her.

"Oh, no. I am a terrible dancer!"

"Same, love. No excuses." He winked at her taking her hand and pulled her up.

"One second" she pulled back a step but kept her hand in his. She turned to grab her mostly full drink, chugging it and placing the empty glass back against the rest, before turning her attention back to him.

George let out a haughty laugh at the action. Her grip on his tightened as she glared playfully at him, then taking the lead walked out onto the dance floor where he twirled her around and they danced next to one another not caring about how silly their moves must have looked as neither cared they couldn't dance.

They stayed out there the rest of the night, until the band announced their last songs were coming up. Slow songs. All couples on the floor began to move together. [Y/N] glanced around nervously before her eyes trailed back up to him, he was smiling down to her. Hand outstretched. She took it willingly and he pulled her into him where he began to sway.

"And you said you couldn't dance" she joked as she noticed he'd clearly done this before. He shrugged. "May have learned a move or two at school".

As the music went on the two of them only got closer, his arms wrapped around her as she lay against his chest. George let his chin gently rest on the top of her head, eyes closed enjoying the moment. It was perfect. Until, he felt a notable sigh leave her chest. Not at all content. It was sharp and she was obviously thinking about something she rather wouldn't be. He pulled back slightly to look down at her.

"Hey...what's up?"

"Sorry." She spoke to his chest "I didn't mean t-I just..." stumbling over her words she mentally kicked herself for ruining the moment. Taking a step back as she shook her head, she let go of him. George felt cold without her. "It's not you. I just-"

"You were thinking about him."

[Y/N] looked up at him with sad, apologetic eyes.

"It's okay, [Y/N/N]" he closed the space between them and ran his hand down her shoulders to her elbows. "I understand."

"It's just...all this...the slow dancing, the feelings I have right now..."she stopped herself, staring down at her shoes.

"Hey," he moved to cup her face in his hands. Bringing her face back up to look at him. His brows were furrowed and he had such a sincere look on his face [Y/N] could have melted right there. How could someone she only just met hold so much more love in his eyes toward her than her ex-fiancè ever did? "I like you." She spoke before he could. Georges eyes widened at the words, a smile began to creep on his face. Her hands came to rest on his arms as his hands fell to hold below her jaw. "I just...I don't know how you can be looking at me like that. When you barely know me, but then I was with-" "the git." She laughed at his interruption but still dropped her head to stare at the floor sadly "When I was with, the git, for 3 years and he never..."

"Listen to me." George ducked himself, as his finger tilted her chin up to look at him, "You deserve so much better than him. I don't have a clue how a prat like him managed to wrangle a winner like you but..." his eyes were flicking frantically between hers, desperate for the right words, "whoever couldn't see the girl that I see right now wasn't looking at you, love. If I know one thing is true...if you let me, if you give me the chance. I'll never be like whoever broke your heart."

Tears were forming in her eyes. Biting her lip as a smile began to form. She nodded slowly. Then quickly as she threw an arm over his shoulder and around his neck to pull him into a kiss, followed swiftly by the other. His hands fell to her waist. They felt perfect together. [Y/N] couldn't believe she'd nearly married some cheating git, when there was a man like this out there. A man so full of love, and compassion and pure joy he could light a dark room with nothing but his smile.

As the song that was playing slowly faded to an end the two finally parted lips, smiles so giddy they felt like Second Years again. She fell back into his chest as her arms came down to wrap around him, eyes closed listening to the sound of his heart beat and breathing as the bands last song began to play.

"I kinda wanna thank him." George spoke. She looked up at him, mouth slightly agape, brows furrowed, utterly confused. He couldnt help but chuckle at the look she was giving him. "Well, if he didn't do what he did, you'd never have ended up here in my arms." He smirked causing [Y/N] to roll her eyes before pulling herself back into him. "That's so cheesey" he felt her laughter quiver through his chest. He kissed the top of her head. "Get used to it"

#my 2nd ever fanfic 🥳🥳🥳🥳#harry potter fanfiction #fred and goerge weasley #george weasley x reader #George weasley #george weasley imagine #George weasley/reader #george weasley fluff #whoever broke your heart murphy elmore #murphy elmore #music inspired fanfic #fred weasley x reader

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ace-oreos · 3 years

Note

Aaaah! Thank you!!!

(However, I'm afraid I'm not here to help, I'm here to make it worse!)

I've got a prompt if you're still taking them : Alpha and Fordo being assholes to each other but always having each other's backs // or some good old fashioned Jango guilt in his POV when Baby Alpha shows that he's not just some flesh droid

♡♡♡♡ Thanks ♡♡♡♡

Of course! 😄

I mean, I really can’t complain, can I? XD

Okay so I absolutely love both ideas. I went with some Fordo and Alpha snippets this time around, but I am definitely going to do something with that Jango prompt, too.

Alpha hoped to make a discreet return to barracks - which isn’t all unusual, given that he isn’t one of the GAR’s conversationalists - and thinks he might just have gotten away with it until he enters the code for the quarters he shares with Fordo.

Fordo refrains from an overt reaction, but the slight raise of his eyebrow says enough.

“It isn’t polite to stare,” Alpha informs his brother tartly.

“Would you rather I let you bleed out?”

“I’d rather you left me alone, actually,” Alpha grumbles, peeling back the sleeve of his bodysuit to examine the damage.

“What kind of brother would I be if I did that?”

Alpha is too busy cursing the Separatists and their shabla commando droids to bother answering. If he hadn’t been caught up fending off a squad of B2s while the Jedi in command was off playing hearts and minds with the unwilling locals, he might have noticed the greater threat sooner. He’s trained to deal with melee weapons, of course, but it would have been an awful lot easier had he been able to engage them without worrying about the B2s.

“Hey,” Fordo says, nudging him gently. “I know what you’re doing.”

“Trying to keep my arm from falling off?” Alpha says through gritted teeth.

His brother doggedly continues. “The fight’s over. Stop replaying it.”

“Thanks, vod. I’ll remember that next time I’m seconds away from a bloody death.”

Fordo patiently hands him a wad of bandages he stores under his bunk for these exact situations. Alpha, now wishing his brother didn’t know him so well, accepts with a sigh.

“You really should get a medic to take a look at that,” Fordo advises.

Alpha bites the inside of his cheek to hold back a hiss of pain. The gash is deep, running the length of his forearm and curling over his wrist. Blocking a vibrosword with his gauntlet was admittedly a poor decision, but it was that or be ripped open by the blade.

Fordo still doesn’t seem content that Alpha is capable of attending to his own wounds. “I never thought you of all people would act like this.”

“Like what?” Alpha snaps, finally at the end of his patience.

“Like Jango,” Fordo says sharply.

The deafening silence stretches between them. If Alpha wasn’t thinking that collapsing from blood loss is a real threat at this point - if Fordo had let him alone in the first place - if his brother hadn’t felt the need to dredge up memories and emotions Alpha thought he’d long since moved past -

“Usen’ye,” he snarls. “Don’t ever say that again. Tayli’bac?”

“Whatever you say,” Fordo bites back, “Lieutenant.”

In the end, Alpha is left to deal with his wounds himself. The first set of bandages are useless by now, but he’s less than eager to be fussed over by a medic. So he cleans and dresses it sloppily, shoving away the first twinges of remorse that creep up on him as he works.

Fordo returns some time later. Alpha is already curled on his bunk, cradling his bad arm. He hears Fordo place something next to him but doesn’t open his eyes until he hears his brother’s breathing even out in sleep.

Alpha gropes around until his hand makes contact with something on the floor. It takes him a few seconds, but he eventually realizes Fordo must have made a visit to the medbay. There’s a pile of fresh bandages and some bacta waiting beside his bunk.

__________________________

“Are you planning on staying awake until Kamino dries out?” Alpha demands. Fordo has been working through a mountain of mission reports for the past six hours like he didn’t just return from a months-long deployment.

“Duty calls, vod’ika,” Fordo answers without looking up.

“First, quit calling me that. Second, you’re about as useful as osik when you’re exhausted.”

“Someone has to do it, and you don’t have the security clearance to see these,” Fordo says before breaking off in a yawn.

“Security clearance my shebs. I got promoted, remember?”

“Hard to forget when you won’t shut up about it.”

“I wouldn’t bring it up if I wasn’t concerned you won’t ever get through those,” Alpha says indignantly. “Look, there’s nothing saying you have to have those sorted immediately.”

“You know Maze - he’ll get that disappointed look, and I’d hate to deprive him of what little excitement he can come by on Triple Zero.”

Alpha allows himself a long-suffering sigh. “Maybe you should stop on Coruscant for a spell. Then you could get some rest.”

“Aww, are you worried, ver’alor?”

“Worried that you’re going to screw up and give a regiment orders to take out the chain of command,” Alpha retorts, and snatches the datapad from Fordo’s hands.

His brother yawns again before commenting, “You’re too stubborn for your own good.”

“You’re too tired to be passing judgement,” Alpha returns. “Get some rest.”

Fordo sighs. “Fine.”

“Good to go,” Alpha says, but his satisfication is short-lived when Fordo follows up with, “As soon as I’m done with the next lot.”

There’s no changing his brother’s mind once it’s made up. Fordo takes the datapad from Alpha unprompted and returns to his work.

He refrains from commenting when Alpha sets a cup of caf down on his desk with more force than is strictly necessary two hours later.

__________________________

Alpha can’t for the life of him figure out when Fordo had time to become something of a social butterfly. His brother is dedicated, disciplined, everything Alpha remembers him to be - but he also has a way of applying those very traits to just about anything, regardless of whether it’s relevant to the war effort.

“Don’t be a killjoy,” Fordo says, like this phrasing of their ongoing argument will somehow change Alpha’s mind.

“I’d be more of a killjoy if I let you drag me all over Coruscant, trust me.”

“I refuse to believe that until I have firsthand evidence.”

“You do that,” Alpha says, fully uninterested in the prospect of spending the night exploring Coruscant’s social scene.

Fordo appraises him. “Scared, Seventeen?”

“I’m not scared,” Alpha snaps, because while they might be the GAR’s finest he still can’t let something like that go unrefuted.

“Half of my squad is going,” Fordo says coaxingly.

“Fordo. No.”

“I’ll just have to tell Mereel you’re too shy.” Fordo sighs theatrically. It’s not much of a strategy, but it certainly gets Alpha’s attention.

“Wait, what does Mereel have to do with this?” he asks, frowning.

“You two seem to get along so well, it’s only fair that I tell him his vod’ika is too coward to step outside his comfort zone for a little while.”

“I’m not - it’s not like - don’t bring him into this!”

Fordo grins. “Then you’ll come?”

“Do I have a choice?” Alpha grumbles.

“It’s me or Mereel, ner vod.”

Put up with his brother’s incessant nagging or Mereel and everything that comes with him. Alpha doesn’t have to spend long weighing his options.

He even starts to enjoy himself a few hours in. Fordo’s men are lively, eager to experience Coruscant for themselves, but they make space for Alpha, too.

Fordo sends Alpha a knowing smirk every so often. Alpha doesn’t let it get to him - but he resolves to take Fordo to the mats sometime soon.

#alpha-17 #alpha 17 #captain fordo #captain maze #jango fett #the clone wars #star wars #fic prompt #thanks for the prompt!#these two have a fun dynamic

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sillyrabbit81 · 3 years

Text

Her Heavy Cross

Summary: Three years after tragedy hits, Lana she decides to start dating again. She meets Will through a dating app and they begin an online romance. After months of constant requests, Lana relents and agrees to meet and go on an irl date with Will. But is Will who he says he is? Lana is quickly pulled into an intense relationship forcing her to confront her tragic past. Will Lana face it or will she close her heart forever?

Pairing: OMC x OFC

Word Count: approx 3.2k

Warnings: smut, swearing,

Authors Note: The story started as a Henry Cavill fanfiction but I changed it to be an original character, but shades of Henry are still there. Hope you enjoy the story and thanks for reading.

Part 5 Part 7

Part 6

"Tell me something I don't know," I joked. I felt my confidence returning, and it felt good.

"Hmm, what about how I want to bury my head between your very shapely thighs and not leave until you scream my name?" Liam opened his eyes. Oh fuck, he meant it. My short-lived confidence had left me.

He sat up and continued, "or how I want to pin your hands above your head, throw your legs over my shoulder and fuck you until you can't walk." I moved away a bit. The intensity in his eyes made me afraid. "Or how I want to watch you ride my cock while I smack that generous bottom of yours.".

I started to get off the bed. "Yeah, I knew all that too." My bravado was transparent because my voice came out almost like a squeak.

He grabbed me and pinned me beneath his body. He moved faster than any one of his size had the right to. His eyes raked over my body while he forced my legs apart and pushed his still hard erection against me. I swear I could feel it's warmth through the fabric of my clothes.

"Well then, how about the fact I thought about all of those things while I showered this morning." My eyes went wide. He didn't mean he... Did he? "I'm glad I did, or I would have made a mess five minutes ago." He did! He didn't seem embarrassed at all about his admission.

I had no words for that. But I had thoughts, a lot of them. I wondered what he looked like when he touched himself. I imagined him standing in the shower, slightly hunched, hot water streaming down his naked body, one arm out straight against the wall, the other gripping his sex, short quick movements making his arm muscles contract.

I imagined the way his body would tighten as his release neared, the growl that would escape his lips. Then, because I couldn't stop the thought, I imagined being on my knees in front of him, his hand in my hair and, as his orgasm came, watching as it streaked all over my open mouth.

I couldn't help but squirm against him. I felt the pressure rising in me. I needed a release as well.

As if he sensed my need, Liam got off me and laid next to me. He cupped me in his hand, his palm pressing against my most sensitive spot. "I want to take these off." He indicated my leggings.

I hesitated a moment before nodding slowly. Liam leaned down and kissed me, still holding me. I pressed against his palm, feeling the friction build the pressure. Liam kissed my neck and my breasts and my tummy, his hand holding me as I started to grind against it. But he didn't take off my pants.

Eventually, I stopped and said, "I thought you were going to take my leggings off."

"You hesitated. I want you to be sure."

"I wouldn't have agreed if I wasn't sure."

"I didn't want you to feel pressured. It's only enjoyable if I know you want it."

I pushed him off me, frustration pouring out. "You fucking idiot. Do I need to beg?" I sat up, turned to face him, reached behind my back and undid my bra and threw it away.

Liam's mouth fell open, and he made a move to grab me, but for once, I was quicker. I laid back and put a foot to his chest, and used all my strength to hold him back. "Is this clear enough for you?" I ask as I hooked my thumbs in my pants and pulled off both my leggings and underwear. He grabbed the pants at my knees and helped me pull them off the rest of the way.

Then he just sat there staring. I waited. I felt stupid and moved my arms to cover myself.

"Don't you fucking dare." Liam finally spoke, and I felt a twinge between my legs. "I want to look at you. You're so beautiful." Well, ok, then.

Liam tentatively reached out and caressed the curve of one of my breasts. I felt goosebumps rise on my skin as he did, and my nipples hardened. Liam chuckled, seemingly pleased that his touch made me respond like that. He placed his whole hand on my breast cupping it and feeling it's weight. His thumb ran over my nipple, and I clamped my legs shut, trying to ease the pressure. I moaned as he leaned down and took my nipple in his mouth. He sucked on it then gently took me between his teeth while his tongue danced.

"Oh fuck," I moaned, and I plunged my fingers into his hair, making little fists. It felt so fucking good, but I needed more.

Liam sat up and put a knee between mine. "Open your legs for me," he said. I flushed, feeling sheepish. I had thrown myself at him, practically begged him to do this, and now I'm too shy. "You're very pretty when you blush. Now, open your legs for me."

Slowly I bent my knees and opened for him. I looked away, worried about what he would think.

"Lana, Sweetheart, look at me." I took a moment and slowly looked at him. "You look fucking spectacular." He looked me in the eyes as he got down low. "You're so fucking wet for me." I watched wide-eyed as his tongue parted my folds, and he licked me, his tongue gently flicking my clit as he did. He closed his eyes. "You taste fucking spectacular," he said. He put his head down and took me into his mouth, and sucked gently.

"Oh, bloody hell!" I yelled and threw my head back on the bed. Liam seemed to hum against me. I tried to wriggle away, the feeling too intense. "Come back here," Liam growled, and he snaked his arms around my thighs, trapping me as he continued to lick and suck at me.

I punched at the bed, my hips moving up and down. Liam stayed latched onto me, not stopping or missing a beat. I'm sure I said every swear word in the English language as my release came closer. Soon the pressure was too much, and I was reduced to begging.

"Please," I said over and over. I felt one of Liam's fingers inside me, followed quickly by another, and I felt them press against the spot behind where his mouth was. I felt myself go over the edge, and I shouted wordlessly as I exploded against Liam's mouth. Waves of ecstasy rolled over me before subsiding, leaving me a shattered mess. I laid there panting, catching my breath as little aftershocks ran through my body until I shuddered as I felt my orgasm finish.

I felt Liam's hands run up my hips and over my waist. I shivered and giggled, my body still too sensitive. I felt Liam's weight on my body, and I pulled him into an embrace. He kissed me, and I could taste myself on his lips. Despite having one of the best orgasms of my life and my first with a partner in three years, I wanted more. I wanted to feel him inside me. I think I'm greedy.

Liam had a huge grin on his face. I felt embarrassed again and looked away.

"Don't be shy. That was fucking amazing." Liam kissed me again. "Watching you is so hot." He paused and said, teasingly, "even better than I had imagined." He leaned in and kissed my neck. He took my earlobe in his mouth, teeth grazing it lightly.

Liam pulled away then as if bitten by a snake. He threw some pillows together and laid down on his back. He put his arm around me. I laid my head on his chest before putting my leg over his, and I snuggled into him.

"I think I'd be happy to stay this way all day. Your tits feel lovely." Liam was stroking the curve of one of my breasts.

I gave him a light slap on the chest. "Oh, come off it." I laughed.

"No, I'm serious. I want to stay here and watch a movie."

"The remotes are just over there." I pointed to the bedside table. They were next to the Ben and Jerry's tub. He pointed at it and raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't expecting company," I said in my defence.

He turned on the tv, and it went to the PlayStation menu. "Hmm, let's see what disc you have in here." He scrolled over.

"We could find something on Netflix," I suggested, cringing inside at what movie was in there.

"The Princess Bride?" His bloody lip twitched. "I thought you didn't like romance."

"It's not just a romance." I said and then quoted, "Are you kidding? Fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, chases, escapes, true love, miracles..."

In a move that astounded me, he kept the scene going. "Doesn't sound too bad. I'll try and stay awake."

I kissed him and snuggled into him as the movie started.

We spent the rest of the morning in bed. It was nice. Liam would stroke my hair or back while we watched The Princess Bride and then Superbad. Sometimes I would have my head cradled in his arm, and I played with his chest hair. Other times I put my head to his chest and listened to his heartbeat or relaxed as he breathed. The gentle rocking of his breathing almost put me to sleep a couple of times, but I'd wake up as a chuckle vibrated through his chest, interrupting the rhythm.

My tummy started to rumble, and I suggested we had better get some lunch. I pulled a robe on, but Liam made no move to get clothes on. He still only had his undies on. His confidence in his body continued to surprise me.

I asked Liam what he'd like for lunch.

"I brought my food with me." Liam said, "with filming starting soon, I've got to be strict."

"What about last night?"

"We won't talk about that." He winked conspiratorially.

I smiled, "fair enough."

Liam got his pre-prepared lunch, and I made a Vegemite sandwich. We sat at my kitchen bench and ate.

"So did you bring food for tea too?"

"No. I usually have a steak or chicken with salad or veg for dinner. I like a warm meal for dinner."

I thought about what food I had. Not much, I'd probably have to go to the shop.

"What about a roast? I could cook a beef roast and some veggies? Obviously no potatoes or anything but some beans, broccoli, carrot maybe?"

Liam looked surprised, "you'll cook for me?"

"Yeah," I blushed. "I mean, I'm not the best cook." I shrugged. "I don't have to. We can go out if you want."

"No, I'd love for you to cook for me."

I smiled, "great, come to the shop with me? We've got to go soon. My local butcher still only opens half days on Saturdays."

"Will you have to get dressed?"

I rolled my eyes at him. "You can undress me when we get back home if you like," I said in my cheesiest seductive voice.

"I like. Come here," Liam said. I ran. He caught me and ticked me while giving me some sloppy kisses. I giggled and pretended to fight him off. He eventually let me go, and we got dressed.

We went to the garage to get in my car, but before I opened the door, I decided against it. "Want to walk instead? It's only about 15 minutes away, and we could take Perrin with us."

"Yeah, absolutely."

"Wait here, and I'll grab a hat. Do you want one?" Liam nodded, and I came back with two baseball caps, Perrin on a leash and a couple of reusable bags. We headed off.

Liam looked at his cap before putting it on. "Valentino Rossi?"

"Well, you're not having my Jack Miller hat."

"You like Motogp?"

"Yeah."

"Do you ride?"

"I do. Not a sports bike, though. I have a Dyna Wide Glide."

"You ride a Harley? Holy shit." A look of genuine surprise was on his face.

"Well, it's Andy's," I explained. "I didn't want to sell it when he died. He loved it and rode every day." I looked at Liam. His expression was unreadable. "Sorry, I suppose you don't want to hear about this."

Liam took my hand. "No, it's ok. We all have a past. Yours is a little... different." He sighed, "it's a bit strange because you didn't break up. You loved him. It's a bit hard for me to process. If a girl I were dating talked about an ex the way you talk about your husband, I'd think she wasn't over him."

I didn't say anything to this. We continued walking.

Eventually, Liam continued, "I understand it's not the same as an ex. I believe you when you say you're ready to move on. He seems to be still so much in your life. I'm not used to the dynamic."

"He kinda is still in my life and will always be," I said. I knew I probably shouldn't have been so blunt, but I owed it to him, to be honest. "It's because I want to honour his memory, not because I haven't grieved or haven't accepted it." I stopped and got Liam to look at me. His lips were in a hard line, and his brow was creased. "I've thought about it for a long time, and it took me two years to date again. Three years before I brought a man to my bed." His eyebrows shot up. "That's you, by the way." He grinned at that. "Yes, well, you're very handsome. I couldn't resist." I said dramatically.

"And charming, don't forget that." I elbowed him in the ribs and smiled. He pulled me into a hug. I gave him a big squeeze. I breathed in deeply, enjoying his scent, more potent today than yesterday without his cologne. I already felt like I'll miss his smell when he is gone.

I felt Perrin pulling on the leash, impatient with the delay. "C'mon. Somebody says we need to get going."

When we got to the shops, we stopped at the butcher first and got a rib eye roast. Then we went to the small local supermarket to get veggies.

I tied Perrin up outside, near the water bowl the shop leaves for dogs, and he lapped at it. We went inside and looked around the produce.

After a while, I noticed people kept looking at me. I touched my face trying to see if I had food on it, and checked my fly. I was getting freaked out big time. I saw one of the employees pointing her phone at us.

"Liam, do I have something on my face or something?" I sounded as panicked as I felt.

"No, Sweetheart, you look lovely." He smiled at me and ran his finger down my cheek.

"I just feel like people are looking at me."

Liam looked around. "I don't notice it anymore. You get used to it." My jaw dropped. I'd forgotten about being seen in public with Liam. He must have seen the horror on my face because he said, "I'll wait with Perrin if you like." Liam gave me a quick smile which I supposed he meant to be reassuring, and left.

I pulled my cap down further and hurried to finish my shopping. I avoided the employee with the phone and paid at the other open register. I was so flustered I asked for ciggies. By the time I remembered I didn't smoke anymore, I was too worked up to ask the lady to put them back. I left as quickly as I could.

Liam was squatting down next to Perrin, giving him pats. "You alright?" He asked.

"I guess so. Let's go."

"I'll carry those." Liam took my shopping and the meat and handed me Perrin's leash.

We walked in silence for a while. I was still a bit shaken.

"Does that happen all the time?" I asked after a while.

Liam shrugged. "Sometimes."

"Like it's not just paparazzi that take photos of you without you knowing?"

"Yeah. I tried to tell you."

"I had forgotten you were famous." He raised an eyebrow at me. "I knew you as Will before I knew you as Liam. I got to know you as just a regular guy."

"I know. That's what I wanted."

"Yeah, I get that." I chewed my lip. "I don't know if I would have gone on a date with you if I had known." I swear Miley Cyrus was thinking of me when she wrote the line 'Can't bite the devil on my tongue.'

"I'm sorry," Liam said. He sounded sorry. I didn't want to be mad at him, but I couldn't help it. It tore me up because I understood why he did it. But it didn't make it any easier on me.

"I'm sorry too," I said. I was thinking about the way people were looking at us. I didn't know how he could stand it. I felt stupid thinking he could just walk to my local shops and not stick out like a shag on a rock.

"Why are you sorry?"

"I put you in a position where somebody could take photos of you."

"Hang on. You're worried about photos of me?" I nodded. "I thought you were worried about the photos they took of you."

I felt the blood leave my face. I stopped walking. "They took photos of me? I thought it would be just you."

"Sweetheart, I don't know. Probably." He sounded angry. "I shouldn't have come with you. I should have thought it through. I knew..." He put his arm around me and lifted my chin so I would look at him. "I told you last night; I'm not worried about being seen with you. It's you I worry about."

"Your life isn't normal," I said petulantly. "It's weird and kinda strange." I removed his arm and started walking again. We were reaching my house now. We went around the back, and I let Perrin off the lead and went inside into the kitchen.

"Hey. You know what else is strange?" Liam put the shopping on the bench. His brows were drawn together.

"What?"

"It's been an hour since I've kissed you." He put his arms around my waist, and I put my arms around his shoulders. He bent his head, and I kissed him.

"More." He demanded, smiling. I couldn't say no. I kissed him again, parting my mouth and softly sucked his bottom lip. He groaned, and I smiled.

"I better put the food in the fridge." I tried to detangle myself from Liam, but he wouldn't let me.

"It can wait. I can't." He lifted me onto my kitchen bench. I wrapped my legs around him and kept kissing him.

For a while, we stayed like that, just kissing and touching. These kisses felt different, like Liam was content just to kiss me for a while. There was no demand for more. He did keep his hips away from me.

When we slowed, Liam put his head against my chest, and I held him close to me, playing with his curls.

Part 7

#original character #original fanfiction #romantic story

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jordluna · 4 years

Text

You Meet Steve Rogers (Natasha x daughter!reader)

Summary: On a mission to rescue hostages, you end up meeting Captain America along the way. The daughter reader is 15. Since reader is in her teenage years she's pretty sassy and her and Nat have a kinda bitchy relationship but it's still sweet though.

"I have a mission with Steve to go on. I should be back in the morning so stay home, and don't do anything reckless while I'm gone." Natasha says while loading up guns on her cat suit as you sit on the couch of your apartment and binge the 100 on the T.V.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll stay here." You say while shoving a load full of popcorn in your mouth. You want her to leave badly so you can go onto the next season before the next day.

"Stay here and don't stay up late." She says firmly as you turn your back to face her to say one last remark.

"No mom, I'll go to the popular girl's party, get drunk, and hook up with the hottest dude I see." She rolls her eyes as she leaves the apartment, while you snicker to herself.

Just as your about to get up to make some more popcorn your phone rings from your hoodie. You pull it out,hoping one of your friends wants to chat with you so you won't be bored all night. Instead you see Director Fury's name on the screen.

You groan, as you swipe to answer it, knowing never to not answer Fury's calls.

"Was-sup Fury." You say while shutting off the T.V.

"Agent Romanoff, it's great to here from you again. Since you haven't showed up to Shield the past two weeks." Fury says not even trying to hid the annoyance in his voice.

"Two weeks already? Well I've been very busy with school work and all." You lie, as for the real reason you haven't shown up is because you were to busy binging The 100."Romanoff I think you must have forgotten you're on Spring break." You wince as you have totally forgotten.

"Shit." You mutter under your breathe. "Shit, indeed." Fury says back after a little bit of silence.

"So why'd you call me exactly?" You ask. "I need you as back up on your mother's and Steve's mission." He then explains their mission to you.

"So what do I have to do?" You ask annoyed that your all nighter is ruined, due to saving lives. "You, my least favorite Romanoff, have to collect Shield's intel on the ship. You can also kick some ass if needed." You sigh while putting on your cat suit and loading your weapons.

"Will do pirate dude." You say while leaving the apartment. "Also I'm so flattered to be your least favorite Romanoff."

"A car should be in the front of your house to escort you to the quinjet. You can jump off shortly after Natasha and Steve are already inside the ship."

"Sounds easy enough."

"Don't disappoint me y/n." You just sigh and end the call. You let your red hair down from the messy bun it was already in. Well time to do the dirty work.

*****

As you hide in the back of the ship you do what Fury instructed and waited for everyone to get off before you leave. Once you jump off you immediately start making your way to the to the control room to grab the data and go, hoping maybe just maybe you can finish one last episode before your mom comes home. Men immediately start running at you but you take out your dagger and slide towards them on your knees, slicing their thighs.

As they knell to the floor you stab them in the chest and make a break for the room. You think about using your guns tonight off the men in front of you but you know that's more of Natasha's thing than yours. Plus the guns would be to loud and you don't want to bump into anyone you know on the mission.

So instead you just do the simple hand to hand combat and leave without a single bruising or scratch as usual while the guys are wailing in pain on the ground.

"Sorry about that, but to be fair you did ruin my movie night." You say with a sinister smile.

*****

Steve moves around the ship looking for the rest of the hostages when he sees pirates injured on the ground. He immediately thinks it's Natasha since there is no there person that can fight without some sort of weapon as good as her. Let alone lave five men unconscious on the ground. As he walks closer he sees two more injured guys on the ground with what appear to be stab wounds.

"Nat, I didn't know you had an interest in knives." Steve says into his ear piece. Natasha is confused by his statement wondering what he is talking about. It then hits her. You were here.

"I'm not." She simply says as Steve is now also more confused.

*****

As you enter the control room you immediately put the hard drive in and start collecting whatever you can. Just then something comes crashing through the door with some unconscious guy underneath him.

"Hey Rogers." You say with a small smirk on your face, recognizing the man as Captain America.

"Who are you and what are you doing?" He says sternly as he pushes you back into the wall, harshly, putting his shield up to your collar bone so you couldn't escape. However you showed no fear in your eyes as you weren't even scared, just irritated that you're still in this room.

"Damn, is this how people introduced themselves in the forties? I'm here on Director Fury's orders."

"To collect Shield intel?"

"Why are you asking if you obviously already know." You say.

"Who are you?" He says firmly looking for an answer.

"Name's y/n. I would ask for your name but I already know because of the whole being a popsicle in a freezer for 97 years."

"You knocked all those guards out there?" He says looking down at the bloody knife in your holster. You just nod quickly hoping to get out of here before your mother finds you and grounds you for life.

"Why would Fury send a 14 year old girl out here?" Ok, now your annoyed with the interrogation.

"I'm 15 Cap. Get your facts strait before spitting them out." He most likely annoyed to as he's pushing you a little more further against the wall. Just as your about to grab the knife and stab him the thigh a familiar voice fills the room.

"Let her go Steve." Natasha says as he releases the pressure on your collar bone. As he moves out of the way you see the one person you've been planning on avoiding this entire mission. Natasha gives you the deadliest glare you've ever seen her give you. You tense for a second but let your muscles relax knowing this isn't the time to be a wimp.

"Hey-" She immediately cuts you off."Я сказал тебе оставаться дома." She's yelling to you in Russian, that's not good. (I told you to stay home.)

"Я знаю, но Фьюри сказал, что тебе нужна помощь.There for here I am." You say trying to reason with her as Steve just watches you guys very confused. (I know, but Fury said you needed back up.) She takes the hard drive out and throws it to you. You catch it and immediately put it in your pocket."Фьюри твоя мать? Нет, я." (Is Fury your mother? No, I am.) You sigh in defeat.

"Can I say something?" Steve says loudly.

"Shut it star spangled capris." You say as he is clearly taken aback. All of a sudden a grenade is thrown at you by the unconscious guy but Steve uses his shield to knock it away. He grabs the you and your mother and crash into a window. Smoke fills the air as you chuckle slightly at the look on Steve's face when you mocked him. However Steve and Natasha just look at you weirdly and your face goes back to its stern expression.

******

You, Natasha, and Steve stand in front Fury's desk in Shield's headquarters. As he stares at you three without saying anything you try to avoid eye contact and just tap the floor with your boot.

"Why would you send a child out on our mission without telling me?" Steve says interrupting the silence.

"Cap did you see the results of putting her on the field? Her mission was to collect Shield intel, and she did it with even getting a few of our foes hurt." Fury responds with and you look at your mother and see a smirk on her face, which makes you feel even more accomplished.

"People could have gotten killed and hurt." Steve says.

"I believe Fury sent the best assassins and super soldier to make sure that didn't happen." Natasha says as you nod your head agreeing.

"The kid could have gotten hurt!"

"Agent y/n Romanoff, is one of the best junior agents, Shield has ever seen. She doesn't get hurt easily." You see the shocked look on Steve's face, mixed with confusion. You, Fury, and Natasha try your best not to laugh as Steve's mouth is practically wide open.

"You better close your mouth before a fly goes in." You say as Steve moves his head looking at you, then Natasha, then back at you. He slowly starts to notice how similar you two are.

"Oh, yeah. I have a daughter." Natasha says as if she just accidentally forgot to mention it before.

"Oh hell no. I'm dreaming." Steve says raising his arms up and starts to leave the room.

"I can assure you that I'm very much real." You say laughing.

I enjoyed making this one a lot. I also just love writing sassy y/n. Sorry if Russian is wrong I'm so sorry I just used google translate. Also I might move to tumblr idk. Next story will be You're okay!

#Avengers family Natasha Romanoff x daughter!reader natasha Romanoff Black Widow x daughter

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halloowqueen · 3 years

Text

Steff didn't even open his mouth to say anything at first, because he didn't know what it was he would even say, or attempt to. There had been cases in the past, though few and far between, where he had found himself at the end of someone's fist, but it never had before been a girl. He liked to pride himself on the fact that she would be smacked right back, if anyone of the opposite gender did go swinging for him, but he stilled and contemplated that for a moment. She was dainty, fragile and had tears in her eyes.

The male figured it best to just not even offer any verbal backlash either, but turning a little to walk away from the situation, he found her stepping right in front of him with a look on her face indicating she wasn't done yet. He bristled a little because he couldn't entertain scenarios like this and actually withstand it for long; he wasn't aggressive, in spite of his ability to cause such an emotion in the people around him.

“ —you apologise right now, ” Penny keps her gaze on him, eyes filled with fury as she had witnessed his complete lack of disrespect for the seemingly timid girl who walked down the street alongside where they stood some moments before.

“ I don't know if you noticed, but she's gone, ” he scoffed his response, agitated that it was being prolonged to such a degree and for no good reason given the other girl had since scurried off away from where they were hanging out outside Wendy's. They both had shakes and burgers, yet Steff seemed to make a comment on the girl's weight and her own bag of food, remarking that is was too large a portion.

“ She's right over there in the parking lot, Steff, go apologise, ” she wasn't going to let him get away with it that easy, especially as that was a very poor excuse to get out of it and he had probably never once in his life apologised to anyone for anything. She was very familiar with his bullshit attitude and how he thought he was holier than thou. It enraged her and she never once turned a blind eye to those suffering.

Steff might have befriended her over recent months as she was new to the school and she might appreciate the similarities between them, but that certainly wasn't one of them. Her blood was boiling the longer he stood there acting like nothing was wrong, no matter the look in her eyes telling him he was a piece of shit.

“ You go over there right now and tell her you're sorry and mean it, ” Penny is furious with his childlike behaviour and makes it very known, as she steps forward again and notices how he stumbles back ever so slightly. He probably thinks she's going to have another strike at him, but she isn't; she can't believe she did it the first time, but after too many failed attempts at watching the guy treat people like shit, she's done.

“ I'm not apologising for what's true, alright? She shouldn't have bought such a portion if she didn't want at least one of us to say something about it. Go home to your daddy, Penny, I'm done hanging with you for today, ” Steff grimaces in her direction and turns away from her then, wiping his cut lip against his thumb and grunting his displeasure of the way that's going to impact his overall look, at least for a few days.

Her eyes soon fill with tears at the corners and she blinks them away, inhaling deeply to try and smooth over the situation before she, herself, walks over to the other girl and offers a very gentle, apologetic smile. Eyes are still glazed over slightly with upset that her friend had caused, but she does her best to offer the girl kind words and even a friendly gesture of a hug to make up for the unbeliavable insult.

After a few words more and a clasp of the affected girls hand, she smiles and lets her know he won't be bothering her again. They all seemed to go to the same school, but Penny would be ever-watchful of who Steff interacted with in such a vile manner from now on because she was so hurt for the poor girl, so much so she even felt the sting of his words herself and that had sent her into such a volatile spin of emotions, hence the reason she had lashed out and actually punched him in the face.

“ You're a dick, ” she mutters in his direction as she passes him along the street as he had walked a fair distance from Wendy's by now, but in her hurry to get back home so the sky doesn't darken prior to her arrival, she walks at a fast enough pace to pass him by as she goes. Her heels click against the sidewalk in her haste before a hand yanks her right back and forces her frame against a nearby wall.

“ You're a bitch, don't see me complaining. You need a ride home? ” somehow, even in his complete asshole take on his surroundings, he still offers her security. He can see how reluctant she is to accept the invitation, too, but for a moment he says nothing.

Penny shrugs his arm out of her way and tries to continue walking down the street, as though she doesn't need his charity and can very easily find her own way home safely and without needing to dig around in her purse for the pepper spray her father always told her to keep on hand. She fumbles through it a little while longer as she walks in a less than straight line, frightened now and still riled from the incident before. Steff is hot on her heels though as she goes, snapping at her now as he tells her to get in the damn car, as its just a few more feet away from where they are at present.

“ Leave me alone, Steff. I can find my own way back.. I just.. need my spray, ” she's all kinds of frantic now as she picks up the pace a little more and surpasses his porsche, not even glancing up at it to consider the possibility of a ride from such a jerk but tears fill her eyes once again when she realises she clearly did not pack her pepper spray.

Steff is right on her heels again, neglecting his own car in favour of doing a little jog to catch up with the highly frazzled female who no more than ten minutes ago punched him and gave him a bloody lip. He manages to trap her between himself and the wall again before she can walk any further, clanking away in those white heels of hers and tearing up as she rummages through her purse looking worse for wear. He actually gives a shit and that's entirely new to him, so he takes a few fleeting seconds to process it.

“ You haven't got it, sweetheart, don't burden yourself. Just get in the car, alright? ” he seems to say this in a bit of a huff, challenging his usual motive of not giving a damn, which in actuality he should be more annoyed that he is given what she did to him, but somehow he turns a new leaf in that moment, even if it only lasts until she's home.

Penny lifts her gaze to look up at him, doe-eyes searching his for any sign or indication that he is going to give her a hard time just like that girl, but she doesn't see malice. An almost calm washes over her previous fear and panic, replacing her frustration with him as well for a time as she very slightly nods her head to approve. Steff doesn't move right away, though, keeping one of his arms outstretched with his hand on the wall right at her side. She isn't trapped by any means, but she doesn't move away.

“ What? You going to give me some bullshit too cause I'm upset? Honestly, I thought it might be a good thing to befriend you and see if I can impact your lifestyle, but I can't see that happening. You're just not willing to.. ” she's cut off very suddenly, her words swallowed in her throat and her eyes bugging so much she fears they will be removed from their sockets and she fights to catch a breath, but she can't.

Steff is kissing her, his lips cushioning the onslaught of insults she was going to spring on him before he put a stop to it and even he doesn't quite know why. A kiss wasn't the best method of shutting someone up, especially if they annoyed the absolute hell out of you, smacked you in the face, continued to harass you with their bitching and didn't accept the invitation you so kindly offered in making sure they got home in one piece, yet here they were. It crossed his mind to stop, so he did, but he took his time.

“ Get in the car, Penny, ” he simply says, inhaling much needed air as she did the same and simply blinked at him stupidly until he snapped his fingers in front of her and she jumped to life, almost tripping over her heels as she walked back to his car and he was in step right behind her to make sure she didn't take off yet again.

#drabble #writing #steff mckee #penny rose #OMG IM IN LOVE #heLP

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hackink · 3 years

Text

Step Dad

A short story

I hear thrashing and screaming, I yearned for it to end, never did. That quite sucks not gonna lie.

I'm the big one, it's like I'm the chosen one in my family, could be both good or bad. I've got to take care of my siblings, like all the time. The big responsibilities always point in my direction. It's not all bad, I do have my fair share of fun. But for that same reason, I must set a good example. I can't really act the way I wanna most of the time, usually I've make-up on my face, covering the skin before it. It's kinda complicated.

This one time, my parents came into my room, they introduced me to someone, he was a tall white man, and was fairly well clothed. He was wearing these really nice shoes, and had a suit on that looked like it cost buck. I shook his big hand, it felt soft, and a bit warming. We talked for about 30 minutes, he was a fairly nice person, and my parents seemed to like him as well.

After that time was over, my dad went to the room, and grabbed some suitcases out from the closet, as he rolled them by, I felt my heart drop. They explained everything.

Quickly, I put my make-up on, before it was too late, it was. Once I saw my little brother and sister hugging the leg of my dad, begging him to stay, I washed it off naturally. 'Who is he to take the place of my dad?' This thought lingered in my head that night, I took some sleeping pills.

I avoided the man, I didn't want to talk to him, if I saw my mother close to him, I'd turn my head, cause I know how violent I can get. There was this one time, where I walked into the kitchen to get a snack, was playing Minecraft with my siblings, and there I saw the two, hugging and kissing. I, at that moment, remembered how my dad taught me to drive, how he taught me to build a nice dog house for our pet dog, which had died upon my dad's exit. I remembered every single second I spent with my father, the amazing role model he was, and snapped.

Back in the 8th grade, one of my good friends was playing bloody knuckles with someone. He totaled him. He then turned to me, and held his fist up, I didn't last two punches. He told me to start punching the walls at home, bit by bit, so that it wouldn't hurt and my fists would become stronger. In two months' time, my knuckles along with my punches, had become stronger than most boys in my school. I beat my friend, the only time I did too, cause he trained after that as well, and became much better than me. Though, I did beat just about anyone in school at bloody knuckles.

I clenched my fist, and I dropped my phone. This man was innocent, I just hated the fact that he wanted to replace the man who could never be replaced, ever. I felt like letting him know. I had never punched anything as hard as I could, since it'd probably be the end of my fist, but boy do I gotta say his cheek was soft. He fell to the ground and hit the stove with his head, my mom started to scream and push me back, each little shove she gave me, let me know how much she liked this man. They all hurt. I hadn't seen her do that with my dad in the past year, and he gets to do it in the first week? I couldn't settle with that, I ran out the house, and went to my grandma's house, where I began punching the tree in order to not break down in tears.

She gave me some hot cocoa, and let me spend the night there. She felt like she always had, like my grandma, so I felt comfortable, silently I sobbed. The next morning I got up and took a shower, my hands had a bunch of wounds in them from punching the tree bare fisted, and they really hurt to clean. They were also shaking, 'maybe I cracked a bone or something?' I didn't really care, my adrenaline wasn't going down anytime soon.

I was taking a jog outside around the house to clear my mind, when I see a tall man, with some really nice shoes, and a bruise on his cheek come by. 'Your mother sent me to get you.' I ignored him, for his sake. He sat down in a chair, and patted next to him, signaling for me to take a seat. I was thinking it was a bad pun, was he here to mock me? His face was so infuriating, the fact that it wasn't six feet under was pissing me off. On my next lap around the house, I kicked his chair over, his suit looked expensive. He smiled and chuckled, 'kids these days are quite funny.' Why? He must be a psycho, my reaction would be to get mad, or confused at least!

He began to jog alongside me, this man was starting to tick me off big time. I stopped running, grabbed his tie, and said 'Get out, and I mean out, you lay another finger on my mom and I'll kill you!' I tripped him, and continued my jog. I'd feel guilty, but I can't for someone who got my father kicked out of the house, nobody deserves to live after screwing with my family.

I returned home later that day, still a tad hesitant because of the incidents the day prior. My mom asked me to help her cook, she was making shrimp. She gave me the basic rundown of what she had going, and started cutting vegetables off to the side, we started talking about the usual, how much I annoyed her, and how my siblings were idiots. I hear the door open, and I get ready for disappointment, 'Hello everybody!!' it's a... playful voice?

'Where's my food you peasants?' My eyes lighten up, followed by tears. I rush over to hug my dad, started to sob in his arms. He had a black bag, that had chips in it, he always brought chips back home from time to time. He lied it down on the table, and not long after, my siblings came running and crying. 'Dad why did you leave!?' My little brother cried as he hugged him, my sister on the other side. I felt a sense of family, something I haven't felt in a long time. Through the open door walked a other entity, the tall man. I then snapped back into life, and became a bit sad that I wasn't seeing my dad every day, or that he wasn't showing me something. I didn't feed him, I let him eat a microwaved frozen food, I could not give a damn about his existence. Well, that's a lie, I'd prefer if he was gone.

A couple weeks went by, I was kinda getting used to ignoring the tall man in my house. One good thing is that I never saw him getting intimate with my mom. Could've been good or bad, cause I couldn't punch him, bummer. He was always at work, your typical nine to five corporate slave. So when he was gone, I'd spend time normally with my family. I video chatted my dad every day or two, and just talked about life, sometimes he'd show me how to wood work via video chat. I could live with this.

One day, he came back with a few boxes in his hands, and a letter, or at least that's what it looked like. He opened the boxes in front of my sister and brother, as well as my mom and I. Inside the link box, there was a super high quality drawling tablet, the exact one that my sister always wanted, and cracked jokes about. She took it and ran to her room to use it. In the blue box, there was this laptop, one that my little brother was talking about gettjng for ages, and wouldn't shut up about how good it was. He said thank you and ran to his room to use it. I was pissed, he was trying to buy us into liking him, and it was seeming to be quite effective. He opened a my box, it was keys to a car, specifically the car I always told my dad I was going to get when I got money, and got us out of this house, into a nice house. He always said he was gonna buy it for me, I felt conflicted.

'I know we've had our ups and downs, but I really do want to get along with you as my child, or maybe even just a friend.' I saw my mom out of the corner of my eye, she was tearing up, of happiness. I came back to my senses, and went back to my room, slammed the door shut. I knew I had let my mother down, there were like twenty different emotions circulating through me, they were wreaking havoc. I began to punch the walls, I started screaming, it was probably audible from miles away. I felt weird, something I had never felt before. It didn't seem healthy, but I didn't care. This feeling was new to me, I felt like dying over and over, but even then, that might've not been enough to suppress the pain. I remember thinking to myself, 'I'm gonna kill him, he will die!'

That night, I asked him to come talk to me outside. He looked excited. We went outside, and I took him to the back of the house. I had an itch on my lower back. 'So, what's up?' I didn't reply. 'You're uh, quite the mysterious one aren't you?' He chuckled a bit to himself, I didn't move a muscle. He began to talk about what he had for the future, how he was gonna move us out in like a month, and buy us everything we wanted. 'That's what my dad's gonna do.' I mumbled quietly. 'I beg your pardon?' He replied. I couldn't take it anymore. 'My dad's gonna buy us a house, he's gonna move us out!' I pulled out the pocket knife from the back of my pants and stabbed him in the chest.

His blood came rushing out shortly, I began to scream and cry, 'You will never be my dad!' I stabbed him time and time again, he didn't move after a while. My dad walked up behind me and patted me on the back, along with my mother, sister, and little brother. We spit on him together, and we started to chant, it was a happy chant. We danced around his corpse. I started to sweat intensely, my family began to fade away, still chanting, it turned louder and louder. They began to float away, I dropped to my knees, and the tall man was laughing at me, he pointed and laughed. I started to laugh, with tears running down my face, I took the knife and pointed it at me, that's when I heard the voice. 'Wake up! Jesus Christ you've been sleeping all morning!'

My mom woke me up, I got up and went to the table. I got a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch, and began to eat. My mom walked outside and began to talk to my aunt, 'So, I was able to get this puppy sold for about $150!' I overheard some of their conversation, I wanted a puppy. My dad walked in with a bag, 'Hello my dear children! I am awesome for I have brought the goodies!' I look inside the bag, and tell him that he forgot my hot chips. He quickly runs outside. I take the bag over to my sister and brother, where they get their bag of chips, and start munching away. Once I finish my cereal, I get ready for school. I brush my teeth, and put on a sweater. My mom passes by me on the phone with her sister, talking about something, I couldn't quite catch it. As I open the door, I see my dad chasing after my baby sister, who's face is covered in mud, and laughing away. 'I'm gonna brush your hair so hard!' He yells at her, I giggle to myself. My aunt is outside my house, playing jump rope with my cousin. I wonder who's winning. My sister walks past me, and looks at me. 'Another bad dream?' she asks. 'Yea, this one was hectic.'

#my words #my writing #short story #step dad

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mfingenius · 5 years

Note

Hello! I saw you're taking requests, and I love your writing!!! Could I request some Drarry Angst please? With a happy ending bc I'm not looking for a broken heart, just a cracked one 😆💕. Maybe Rejected-unknowingly-by-harry-Veela!Draco and then Harry finds him? Thank youuuuu! 💕💕💕💕

When Pansy Parkinson comes stomping into the Quidditch pitch right as the Gryffindor Quidditch team is landing after their practice, Harry is wary.

Since he and Draco had patched things up and become friends, Parkinson hasn’t given Harry too much trouble, but between the stormy expression on her face and the furious fire in her eyes, he thinks that’s about to change.

She slaps him hard enough to make him lose his balance, and he would’ve landed on his arse had Ron not caught his arm just in time to still him.

“Potter, you will fix this and you will fix this now!” She screeches, and Harry rubs at his cheek absent-mindedly. It’s burning. “Merlin, I fucking knew you were lying about caring for Draco but I didn’t think you had this in you! It’ll kill him, you realize? I don’t care if I have to Imperio you, but you will not leave Draco to die-”

“What the bloody hell are you talking about?” Ron demands.

“Draco’s dying?” Harry says, stomach sinking.

Harry’s brain stops working. He can only think of infuriating, stubborn Draco approaching him on the train ride towards Hogwarts at the begining of the year, looking both nervous and sincere when he’d asked Harry if they could start again.

“Yes!” Parkinson screeches. She has tears in her eyes, and Harry’s not sure if it’s more from fury or from grief. “Don’t pretend like this wasn’t your stupid fucking plan, Potter! Merlin fuck, even I wouldn’t - I never thought you’d-”

Her voice breaks, and she stomps her foot, hands coming up to wipe at the tears leaking from her eyes.

Infuriating, stubborn, no longer rude Draco with his tentative smiles and even more hesitant ‘hello’s’ until Harry invited him to go with him, Ron, and Hermione to Hogsmeade.

“I hate you.” She snarls.

Infuriating, stubborn, hesitant Draco when he’d apologized to Hermione for everything - not aware Harry had been listening - listening with a clenched jaw when Ron called him every insult in the book and, then, admitting he was most of those things, and telling him he was changing.

“Draco’s dying?” Harry repeats, unable to process it properly.

Infuriating, stubborn, clever Draco with his dry wit and quick tongue, insults not as they were before, but a sort of - banter, between them, that made an odd feeling settle on Harry’s chest. He’d hoped it’d go away.

It didn’t.

Parkinson lets out an ugly laugh.

“Yes, you unbelievably moronic fuckwit!” She snaps. “That’s what happens when a Veela is rejected my their mate!”

Infuriating, stubborn, changed Draco sitting on one of the library chairs in a deep discussion about some muggle book with Hermione while playing Wizard’s chess with Ron, Harry’s blinding happiness when Draco had looked his way and smiled.

“Draco’s a Veela?” Harry asks.

Infuriating, stubborn, sweet Draco insulting Harry while rearranging his pillows after he’d landed himself in the infirmary with a broken leg because they had crashed into each other while chasing for the Snitch. Harry’d been pretty high on pain-killers, but he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the way Draco’s cheeks had pinked when he’d said ‘I care for you’.

Parkinson’s hands still. Her eyes still on Harry. She even stops crying, for a second.

“You don’t know?” She asks.

Infuriating, stubborn, drunk Draco when he’d kissed him in one of the parties in the Gryffindor dorm. Everything in Harry’s body had buzzed with an elation like no other, until he’d pushed Draco away. I can’t. You’re drunk.

“How the fuck would I know?” Harry asks. There’s an edge of hysteria on his voice, and Parkinson dries her eyes with her sleeves and stares at Harry.

“You don’t know.” She repeats.

“No, Parkinson, I didn’t fucking know!” Harry’s the one yelling now. “Who the fuck is his mate? I - I’m sure I can - I can convince them to - to save him, I can - I can do it, there has to be something to be done.”

Infuriating, stubborn, quiet Draco after Harry had said that, a look of utter and complete heartbreak on his face before he’d left. He’d avoided Harry for nearly two weeks afterwards.

“You need to come with me.” Parkinson says.

The walk to the infirmary passes through in a haze. Harry, who has spent his fair share of time there and could probably find his way to it asleep, can not tell left from right as Parkinson drags him through hall after endless hall.

Draco’s lying in one of the infirmary beds, skin nearly translucent. Harry can see the veins in his hands, on the inside of his wrists.

“You said you told him.” Parkinson’s voice is raw, and Draco opens his eyes. He sees Harry and a wave of sadness crashes over his face.

Infuriating, stubborn, helpless Draco after Harry had finally managed to corner him into one of the classroom, begging him for forgiveness. Draco’s entire expression had bled from fear to softness in a second when he’d assured Harry that he could never drive him away. That he was only staying away because he thought that was what Harry would’ve wanted. That the kiss was in the past. He never brought it up again. Harry didn’t, either.

“Pansy, he doesn’t want me.” Draco says, grief and desperation clear in his voice. “I didn’t - he doesn’t need the guilt of this.”

Infuriating, stubborn, lying Draco with dark bags under his eyes and pale skin due to what he promised was NEWT stress, falling asleep on Harry’s shoulder in the library and waking up looking healthier.

Infuriating, stubborn, dying Draco currently lying in a bed, unable to do much more, not after Harry rejected him. His mate. His mate.

“I’m going to be furious about you lying to me later.” Harry warns him. He grabs Draco’s hand and squeezes it, desperately trying to warm it up so it’s not colder than a corpse. “But for now tell me how to take it back. Please tell me how to help you.”

“I don’t want you to be with me out of a sense of - of responsibility.” Draco says, and Harry could really, really hex him right now. He can’t, not while Draco’s like this, so, instead, Harry crashes their lips together, and Draco’s lips are bitten, and dry, and bruising with the force of the kiss, but Harry doesn’t care because this is his Veela, and he will not let this take him away from him, not now.

“I love you, you stupid bloody prick.” Harry says thickly, after he pulls away. “Please don’t leave me. You can’t. You’re not allowed.”

Draco’s lips quirk lightly, eyes dreamy. “Alright.”

Madam Pomfrey tells them she doesn’t know if it’ll work, with how close Draco was to dying, but she lets Harry stay by his bedside for as long as he wants to. An hour passes. Two. Three, and four, and twenty-four, and forty-eight, and seventy-two, and Madam Pomfrey informs them with a beaming look on her face that Draco will make a full - if slow - recovery.

Harry kisses him, again, and again, and again.

Infuriating, stubborn, mostly-fine-now Draco moving straight into Harry’s dorm for the rest of the year. Harry holds him close at nights and Draco always buries his face in his chest, and Harry’s never been a particularly cuddly person but he cannot ever keep his hands off his Veela.

Infuriating, stubborn, fucking perfect Draco with a smile on his face when they move into their apartment as soon as they’re done with Hogwarts, grinning tiredly after they’re done moving and suggesting, with a wink, that they get some use of their new bed.

Harry’s grin, impossible to keep off his face as he hauls Draco over his shoulder - earning a squeal, a laugh, and a slap on the back from the blond - as he takes him to their bedroom and closes the door, intending not to emerge for a very, very long time.

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goingsllightlymad · 5 years

Text

Blinded By Your Light - Part 1. On Meeting

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: Y/N is the definition of ordinary. Studying at a medical school as far as she can get from her rainy hometown of Birmingham, she never expected to be shipped off the Flanders when the war was at it's peak. Much less to meet a handsome young patient with the most beautiful pair of blue eyes she had seen in her life who as fate would have it would fall into her lap.

Word Count: 5035 (I had to split this one up into two chapters because it was getting hella long).

Warnings: I have absolutely no writing skills.

________________________________________________________________

The sunlight on the windowsill was more depressing than it was bright. Wan and pale, you knew that you would find no warmth there in the light of that cool, indifferent sun, shining on a fate much more dire than even its own fiery glory. August had not been kind to either of you.

The last traces of summer were fading away, and everyone in the hospital knew it. Gone were the summery days when you could wake and catch the glimmer of hope that the sunshine had brought with it, the apple trees in the orchard laden with fruit and the last of the spring's bright blossom on their rich branches, the birds wheeling in the sky as though they could not hear, not far away, the rattle of machine gun fire and the sickening crash of bombs. In those clearer nights, sat upon your windowsill and gazing out at the unending sky, you could almost see the flames leaping from the wreckage of today's attack, the occasional flare shooting up into the sky in a sudden burst of bright green light, casting a lurid glow on the trees and fields below.

And now the cold was seeping in, with its grim promise of longer nights and the worst that was yet to come, and the war was far from over. Sometimes you had to wonder how many men were left, as through the doors to the hospital there came every day the steady flow of men half-dead and some already long since gone, draped in their funeral gowns of stiff brown uniform and the bloom of rich red blood like roses on their unnamed grave. This war would leave no man untouched, and you could see the poison as it crept into the eyes of those who made it out of here, chilling and colder than that false bliss that washed over the still faces of those who weren't so lucky.

It was the same routine as always - waking in the cool morning light to dress in the harsh white uniform and make your way to the dining-rooms for breakfast, eaten in silence in a crowd of sullen, sleepless faces, then working until late in the evening, all night if they needed you, as they did more and more these days. It was getting worse out there, though no one dared to mention it.

It would be an understatement to say that no day at Flanders General Hospital was without a new surprise, still today had to be an exception. Walking into the main ward at 6:00 in the morning, the last thing you expected was for the ward to be filled with bustling crowds of nurses in sharply-starched aprons and men carrying stretchers.

"Qu'est-ce qu'il y a? (What's going on?)" You turned to another nurse as she made her way past you, busying yourself with folding a blanket over the edge of a bed and scanning the room for clues of whatever had happened.

"Il y a eu une explosion dans les tunnels la nuit dernière.. Un gros, clairement. Des hommes de partout. La directrice dit qu'il semble que nous allons courir pendant plusieurs jours. (An explosion in the tunnels last night. Big one, clearly. Men from everywhere. Matron says that it looks like we'll be running around for several days)." she whispered quickly, raising her eyebrows and gesturing wildly at the rows and rows of narrow white beds, already filling with bloodied men. You took in the pained expressions of the wounded men and the frantic ones of the nurses, and all at once you had to fight the urge to run away. You had never seen so many patients at once, and the noise was something that you knew you could never forget. The screams and wails and sobbing drowned all of your senses, and you wondered if Hell could ever sound so bad.

"C'est affreux... Que puis-je faire? Dis-moi que je peux faire quelque chose. (It's awful... What can I do? Tell me I can do something)." You followed her as she set off briskly down the ward, collecting soiled towels from beside the beds.

"Faites tout ce que vous pouvez voir qui doit être fait. Habiller les plaies, nettoyer les lits, transporter l'équipement. Tous sur le pont, vous savez. Ne les laissez pas vous voir rester les bras croisés. (Do whatever you can see that needs doing. Dress wounds, clear beds, carry equipment. All hands on deck, you know. Don't let them see you standing around idly)."

You sent her a quick nod as she ran off with her armful of towels, then turned to the bed beside you, where a man painted with soot and thick red blood was splayed across a bare mattress. Grabbing a basin of warm water from the bedside stand, you set to work scrubbing his tired limbs gently, eyes wandering across the thin and broken form. Reaching up to his face with the now-blackened washcloth, you brushed the heavy mass of matted blonde hair away from his face, swiping at the cracked skin underneath in slow movement. He flinched, tensing up involuntarily, and the eyes that flew open to stare at you were deep and hazel and terrified.

"Tu vas bien, tu vas bien. Je ne vais pas te faire mal. Sûr ... tout est en sécurité maintenant... (You're okay, you're okay. I'm not going to hurt you. Safe... all safe now...)" you murmured to him in your stumbling French, rubbing soft circles on his stained cheek with a shaking fingertip and wetting the washcloth once more. His whole body trembled and his eyes rolled around madly in his head like the eyes of a God forgotten. You wished you would never know what it was like last night.

For the rest of that day, you were rushed off your feet with helping the patients. More and more seemed to flood in from all directions, filling the wards and drawing the nurses in like a swirling cesspit of blood and gore and pain. Grime was washed away, leaving behind faces that were somehow worse, haunting in their shell-shocked horror.

By the time dusk rolled in through the windows high in the stark white walls, the ward was only beginning to quieten, the last of the soldiers carried in almost an hour ago. In a gradual tide of hushed movement, the nurses retreated once more into the dorms and the backrooms of the hospital, the last few remaining to sit by the bedsides and wrap and rewrap the same wounds in the soft glow of candlelight.

Sitting alone on the windowsill of your dorm, you tried again and again to read, your brain dizzying in some other realm of thought that was nowhere near those bleak black letters and the story you'd read before. You'd moved here in a hurry, leaving behind everything you'd known before, and the books were no different. In your carpet-bag when you'd left had been only the three small novels you knew you could never live without, and only enough clothes to last you your journey there and back. You were meant to be home by Christmas, with all the books you could ever hope to read, but as time passed it was becoming increasingly clear that Christmas was going to be a long, long time in coming.

A knock at the door startled you out of your thoughts, making you jump slightly and slam your book shut. You opened the door cautiously, and were met with the sympathetic face of another nurse.

"De quoi avez-vous besoin (What do you need)?"

"La matrone a envoyé pour vous. Il y a un homme dans la salle, anglais. Il est agité, il parle dans son sommeil. Vous êtes anglais, n'est-ce pas? (Matron has sent for you. There's a man in the ward, English. He is restless, he talks in his sleep. You are English, are you not?)".

"Je suis. De quoi a-t-elle besoin pour moi? (I am. What does she need me to do?)"

"Parle lui. Voyez ce qu'il a à dire. Il vaut mieux qu'il parle à voix haute plutôt que de déranger les autres avec son sommeil (Talk to him. See what he has to say. It is better for him to talk aloud than to disturb others with his sleep)."

You sighed, pulling on your apron, wrinkled and creased from the day's hard work, and stepped past the nurse into the corridor. She placed her hand lightly on your arm and gave you a small smile, directing you down to the west ward, where all the British soldiers were lying.

It was not difficult to see which one she was talking about. In the stillness of the ward, one bed was rocking slightly, the patient thrashing wildly in his sleep. His cries echoed throughout the room, piercing through the whimpering and sniffing that hung heavy in the air from all the other beds. A particularly loud wail stopped you in your tracks, and you wanted to throw your hands up to your ears and block out the dreadful noise, but you forced yourself to keep moving towards his bed, biting down on your lip hard enough to taste the hot, metallic blood gathering on the tip of your tongue.

You sat in the chair beside the bed, pulling the curtains tight around the two of you until there was only the bed and you beside it, and in it the man flailing blindly in his horror-stricken fever dream. His hands dropping to his sides to clutch and tear at the bed sheets, you used the opportunity to reach out and stroke his cheek gently, hushing him and pushing the hair back from his sweaty forehead. Over his eyes there was a strip of warm, wet cloth, and you didn't even want to know what would be there should you move it back.

"Who are you." his voice almost made you jump. Low and husky, with a thick Brummie accent, it filled the enclosed space around the two of you like cigarette smoke hanging in the night air. You had not sensed him waking up, but now his breathing was steadying and his body smoothing down against the bed.

"A nurse." you soothed him, still tracing the soft white skin of his face. He made as though to sit up, trying to push up off the bed with unsteady hands, and you pushed him back down lightly, "Shh shhh... Lie down, Mr Shelby. You're weak."

"'M not weak." But his voice was broken and uneven and you could almost hear the smoke in his lungs in the slight wheeze when he breathed.

"Soon, no. But for now let's just let me do the work." He relaxed into your hands, his hands falling back to the bedsheets and you rubbed the back of one of them with your own.

"Where am I?" he croaked.

"General Hospital, Flanders. We found you out by the river, near dead." you spat out the rumour that by now everyone had heard. Five of the men half-drowned, half-suffocated, lying on the riverbank in a pool of soot and blood that seemed to spill from within them, like the war was in their very veins. Five men with no homes to go to and no way to get to them, and four without names. Only Mr Shelby, a name you could swear you had known in some distant lifetime, had been identified, and only he out of the five had survived, although no one was quite sure how.

"Should have left me there." He stiffened, removing his hand from yours and trying to turn away from you, but his ribs ached and it was all he could do not to cry out aloud at the sudden movement. He made do with turning his head to the other side, and you caught the trail of dried black blood that ran down his neck and disappeared under the stiff collar of the white hospital robe. "Y' don't know what I did." His voice was hard and bitter, sad as you had never heard sadness before, but sad at himself, as though even the war was better than what he saw in the mirror every night.

"And I don't particularly want to know. But I can't just let you die, considering my job." you joked lightly, smiling a little at him to cheer him up and then realising that he couldn't see you anyway, and your smile faded away into the evening gloom of the hospital ward.

"Why don't you go save someone who actually deserves it."

"I am, right now." you persisted, and he didn't know whether to laugh or to scream at you or to break down and cry. There was something about you, know you as little even as he did, that drove him a little insane, listening to you challenge him and contradict him as no one had ever done before, and he thought perhaps he liked it. Liked you, but that was cruel and that was weak, and that was something that Tommy Shelby would never do to another soul.

"If you only knew the things I've done-" he chuckled lowly, bitterly, and you got the feeling he was laughing more at himself than at you.

"If I only had a pound note for every man who's come in saying that, I wouldn't be washing and fixing your filth, now would I." and it was true - war was the cruellest thing you know, and it broke men like nothing else. First their bodies, then their minds, then their very souls themselves. In a job like this, it was very difficult not to think about souls, but you were sure that, somewhere within the prison of his broken body, Thomas Shelby had the most beautiful soul that you had never seen.

"Would that you wouldn't, eh." He almost smirked - almost. His lips settled back into a grimace as he tried to laugh.

"I'd have bought meself a set of uniform and be standing in the trenches as we speak."

"So desperate to get to the front line?" He tilted his head as though studying you, and you had to remind yourself that he couldn't see you from beneath his blindfold, or else you were sure you would have squirmed under his scrutiny.

"So desperate to get away from it?"

"Need a way home. 'S work for me back there, and work must be done."

"Then," you spoke decisively, smoothing out his blankets and straightening his chest onto the mattress, and he wheezed painfully at the action, making you flinch instinctively, "I suppose you ought to lie back and let me help you, else you'll never be out of here." you tapped him on the cheek softly, a motherly thing that you hadn't even thought about but now seemed too close, too patronising and at the same time too affectionate. You stood quickly, anxious to run away before he could react and tell you that you were being unprofessional, but as you turned your back to the bed you heard from behind you a quiet chuckle, breathy and honest, and the shifting of bones beneath weary skin.

"Suppose I ought."

You smiled at that, and walked away.

________________________________________________________________________________

Early the next morning, they called on you again to make up his bed linen, ladling into your arms the thick reams of bleached fabric and shoving you in the direction of the west ward. As you saw him, lying on his back and grinning at you as you approached, staring into you with those unseeing eyes as though he had known all night that you would be coming back, you couldn't help but smile. You weren't one to pick favourites but this man was really testing your morals.

"You're back." his voice was still monotonous and weak, and his words hung heavy with exhaustion and a bleak, dark emotion that you hoped you would never feel, yet still you caught a hint of amusement. His statement seemed so decisive, like he had wished you back and here you were, just as he had wanted you to be. Even broken in his bed, Thomas Shelby had a curious power over you, and you hesitated to say you didn't like it.

"Are you so disappointed?"

"On the contrary, love. I quite look forward to our little chats."

"And what's on the mind of the great Thomas Shelby today?" you laughed, snaking an arm around his back and lifting his torso off the bed a little, then pausing as he coughed forcefully to cover up the whine of pain that had slipped out.

"Well wouldn't you like to know." he shot you a trembling smile as his body settled back into your arms. A thrill of pity shot through your heart and you pulled him a little closer into you, gazing down thoughtfully into his weary face and covered eyes. Somewhere between today and yesterday, those eyes had become the most important thing in the world to you, the only thing you wished to God you knew. Something deep within you was stirring when you looked at them, trying to make out the shape through the tough white blindfold, and you knew it wasn't good at all. Men like him weren't made for girls like you, and men with pretty eyes were only ever trouble.

"Well now, let's suppose I do." you pulled back the covers and folded them over the foot of the bed. Looking back at his uncovered form, you couldn't stop your eyes from roaming. From the scars on his legs to the blood that hadn't washed away, to the tired bones that jutted out unnaturally from under withered skin, Thomas Shelby was exhausted, physically as well as mentally. Beautiful, so beautiful, and irreparably fucked up.

You wrapped your free arm under his knees and pulled him into your arms in an awkward bridal position where you could smell the sweet, metallic blood in his skin and on his clothes and he could almost taste the harsh carbolic soap from that awful night before, you kneeling in the water in the darkness, scrubbing the taste of war from your skin again and again until your very soul could bleed white blood and the darkness within you seeped out through every breath into the darkness without.

You almost threw him onto the spare bed that had been cleared beside him.

"If you must. I'm thinking about you." he murmured thoughtfully, as though those words were much deeper than you could ever see, and you longed to see the meaning in his eyes as he stared, unseeing, up at you.

"Nothing too saucy, I hope." you joked, but part of you wondered if you really meant it. You thought perhaps you wouldn't much mind it if he did.

"Never! Get that a lot here?" He tried to gasp in mock indignation, but the breath ended up catching in his throat and he hacked and coughed violently, his eyes stinging with tears at the pain in his chest. Your hand flew out to grab his, and you rubbed small circles on the back of his hand reassuringly, holding him against your chest and rubbing his back with the other hand as he collapsed into you once again.

Once the coughing fit passed you pulled yourself away, trying to ignore as best you could the empty feeling that rushed into your arms in the space he left behind, and the way he tensed up again as soon as you had parted. A trick of the early morning light, and you were beginning to get the feeling that that was a common feature of this man, with all his tricks and secrets.

"Wouldn't be too surprised. Lot of lads missing their gals, and I'm just walking sex appeal. Or so I've been told."

"Bothers you, does it?" there was a cold edge to his voice, protective, possessive even. If you didn't know better, you might say that Thomas Shelby was laying a claim on you.

"Not too much. Flatters my ego, 's all. Got a girl at home, Mr Shelby?" and now it was you that was keeping secrets, trying to control your voice in what you told yourself was a perfectly professional question. Had to know if he had any emergency contacts, that's all there was to it. Still, as he let out a weak laugh and grinned up at you, you could not help but let out a long, shaky breath that you had not known that you were holding. Well, that was one thing cleared up at least, and you thought perhaps you might be happier because of it."

"Tommy." you tested the word, let it roll off your tongue and fill your lungs with its false air, stain your lips and taint the sanctity of that unholy mind. A name you wanted to shout, to scream and to whisper and to plead and to say into the darkness in places you knew were much less professional than this white corner of the hospital ward. It was a name you wanted to keep all to yourself, and it was so much more than just a name. It was a confession, and it was holy. Nah, nothing at home for me but cold and dark and office work."

"No family?"

"None at all." he said far too quickly and you knew not to push it any further. There was trust and there was Thomas, Tommy, Shelby, and something told you that the two didn't coincide much.

"Must be awful lonely." you almost felt bad for him, living all alone in his cold town with his dull work and his tiny little life, and you knew that you and him were not so different after all. For a moment it felt almost like you were lying in the bed beside his, and that these two worlds were somehow one. You felt united, and you understood, because this was a secret the two of you could share, and god, wasn't it domestic?

"I shouldn't say so. Look on the bright side - I'm lying in bed with a pretty girl next to me right now. Not sure I should be so excited to go home just yet." your heart sped up a little with the last statement, aching and leaping at once with the fear of him leaving and the knowledge that while he was here there was nothing you could do but stay by his side. You almost didn't want him to go home at all.

"Aren't you just incorrigible! What must the others all think of me?" you teased, pretending to scold him as you giggled and how long had it been since someone had made you laugh like this?

"Hopefully not what I'm thinking of you, love, else we might have a bit of a fall out." his smooth, easy words and comfortable tone made your smile falter a little despite yourself, and you wondered how many girls he had told the same thing to before.

"Been here too long. Bet you're just itching for a fight."

"Told you I was no good." he said, half-joking and half-sincere, and there was an unnerving depth in his words that really should have made you turn and walk away, back to the others in their little back rooms and the laundry that really did need doing now. But you were right - it had been so long since you had seen the light of a proper day that didn't dawn on the cold grey wards and chambers in a country you had never loved before and now could never stand, and in your bones you longed for a story to take you far away, so against your better judgement you stayed, and all the more thought none the less of yourself for it.

"And I told you that was bullshit." you chastened him softly, lifting him back into your arms and returning him to his now-made bed. You laid down his limbs carefully, straightening out his arms and legs and smoothing down his hair against the pillow as he sighed into the crook of your neck, thick, hot air that burned like kisses down your jaw.

"You should really watch you're mouth while you're working."

"Why don't you watch it for me?"

"Take this bloody thing off my eyes and maybe I will." he grinned, but this time there was an earnest, almost pleading note in it that had your hands already reaching up to his face, and to the cruel blindfold that had so robbed you of the truest beauty that you had ever wished to know.

With soft, tentative movements you peeled off the strips of adhesive that held the cloth in place, pushing aside the blindfold and, cupping his jaw with the other hand, tilting his head to look at you. Those closed, scarred eyelids, and suddenly they were twitching and fluttering, lifting heavily as he forced his eyes to open. And there they were - such bright blue stars that burned your blood and sent your heart to frenzy. And time had stopped around you, arrested in their brilliance, blinded by their light, and a bolder girl than you might say that this was all that there would ever be, for he was here and so were you and didn't it seem a lot like fate?

"Beautiful. Nurse (Y/LN), you've been holding out on me." he almost gasped, holding your hand to his lips and pressing a small kiss against the back, his eyes on you like you were all that he'd been waiting for and you wished, you wished, you were.

"Mr Shelby..." you blushed against your better judgement, and he hated himself for doing this to you. He wasn't entirely sure how it had happened, but somehow and so suddenly he was holding the hand of the most beautiful girl he had seen in a very long time, and she wasn't trying to run away. This was the most afraid that Tommy Shelby had been in his life.

"Tommy." he chided gently, and your smile widened.

"(Y/N)."

"So beautiful."

Your faces were closer than you knew you should be, the hospital far away and all around and you wondered if the others were watching you two now, pressed together and so close and still too far away. It was all you could do not to bridge the gap and kiss him, and in another world perhaps you would because then perhaps there was a chance that this could be something more than just a week in a crowded hospital in the grim hell of war. But as it was, you pulled away, closing your eyes so as not to see the light in his flicker and dim as you parted, a thousand times the worse to want his light.

"I should-" you choked out, and his eyes were large and pleading and Tommy had no idea what was going on but he knew that this was the worst that he had ever felt and he could feel his very heart splitting in two a little as you stood to leave.

"Or you could stay."

"I really shouldn't."

"Please." he whispered, and you wished and wished, and you began to walk away again, bed linen under your arm.

"Sleep. I'll be back tomorrow."

________________________________________________________________________________

It was not for him to know that, later that night when the other nurses had retired to their chambers and the dimly-lit backrooms of the darkened hospital, you crept once more out of the nurses quarters and down to the west-wing, where he lay, for once, asleep. Sitting by his bedside in the gloom, you longed to reach out and touch him, and knew that you wouldn't wake him for the world. He looked so peaceful while he slept, and you ached for him as you had for no other, wished that life would bring him rest like this again as you could not seem to bring him health no matter how hard he tried. Even now, in the purplish shadows of evening, he looked so small and thin, a ghost among his fellow men. He looked a world away from when he'd boarded his train to the front line, know that man as you did not. Something in him whispered that, just as it whispered that you should leave, and just the same you pushed it back and sighed into the palms of your hands, drunk with your bittersweet melancholy and the fear with which you loved him endlessly.

And of course it would not mean anything that, when he stirred in his sleep, early in the morning and you still beside him, and began to shake and sob, you rested your hand on his shoulder gently and, for the first time since this bloody war began, you let yourself sing quietly to him. Snapshots of memories from a lifetime that had come before, softening in the blurred blue darkness and painting the world around the two of you, and for a moment you could almost believe that there were only the two of you in all the world, playing at games of war and house that were too old and too dull to tie you down. You could almost spread your wings and fly away to greener gardens where days were meant for living and nights for dreaming dreams that did not wake you colder than you began.

To the sisters who would ask the next morning, when they caught you half-asleep in the chair beside his bed, you were afraid that he would have another nightmare and disturb the other patients, but even you knew that that was not the case. You were there because you wanted to be, and you wanted to be there because he was there, and there was no where else on Earth that you could breathe as freely as you did when by his side.

But you didn't need to tell him that, because he was Tommy Shelby, and it seemed he had problems enough on his own.

________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: so here it is! This was originally going to be a really long oneshot, but then I got really into writing the plot and making it more and more angsty so it kind of became the first part of a REALLY long series plan (I have no self-control, this is a problem). Just a warning, this is the fluffy chapter. Like, one of literally three or four or whatever chapters with no heartbreaking angst (I say optimistically, knowing this is all gonna be so underwhelming I swear to God). ALSO (this is the last thing I swear), this is gonna take me so long to update I don't even know any more, I have a shit ton of exams between now and July, so any of y'all that actually like my shitty writing skills ARE gonna end up hating me for this.

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@actorinfluence @captivatedbycillianmurphy @stressedandbandobessed7771

#peaky blinders #Tommy Shelby #Tommyshelbyxreader #fanfiction

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