#sits down by his grave and murmurs 'hello again beautiful.' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bubble-tea-bunny · 3 years

Text

come fly with me

[hermes x reader]

author’s note: every time i see his name i pronounce it like the brand out of habit even if there’s no accent grave lol

word count: 2,572

You sense the bright light of morning through your closed lids and it prompts you to wake. But even as your eyes slide open, you still feel as though you’re dreaming.

A man is kneeling down next to you. You don’t know who he is but perceive he means no harm, for his gaze as he observes you is concerned, no doubt wondering what you’re doing out here. You don’t remember falling asleep outside, but the weather has been so nice as of late, you wouldn’t put it past yourself to have drifted off after laying beneath the stars, simply appreciating their magnificence.

As your vision comes more into focus, and the blurred edges merge into finer lines, you note that the sun shines behind this stranger’s head, and it appears remarkably like a halo. Your focus slides lower, drifts over brown hair pulled back into a neat braid to avoid obscuring his face, the highlight of which are his eyes—brilliantly blue, like crystals, and putting the backdrop behind him to shame. He’s beautiful.

Suddenly you’re nervous to be the center of his attention, so rapt it’s like he can see right through you. You must look a disheveled mess in contrast, your own hair tousled, your eyes bleary with the last bits of sleep. But as if he can hear your thoughts, he smiles gently, a gesture to put you at ease.

“Hello,” he greets you. His voice is hushed, taking care not to disturb the peace of these early hours, and it’s warm, washing over your skin and fighting away the chill of the cool evening.

You open your mouth, poised to speak, but at first nothing comes out, though from nervousness or from the fact your vocal chords are still waking up after hours of not being used, you don’t know.

“I… I must have fallen asleep out here,” you state rather dumbly, because what else could it have been? It’s not as if anyone had carried you out here in the middle of the night. Your cheeks redden from embarrassment but the man’s smile widens, amused and—if you aren’t imagining things, owed to the idea that maybe you really are dreaming—charmed. Though for what reason, you haven’t the slightest clue. You struggle to call yourself a picture of grace at any other point in a day, least of all fresh from sleep.

“It seems you have,” he responds. “I imagine it was comfortable?”

Not wanting to continue this conversation while still laying down, since it’s a little awkward, you sit up, and he backs away slightly to give you space. The notion of sleeping on the ground certainly doesn’t sound comfortable, and so you assume he asks this in light jest, but oddly enough, you don’t feel any stiffness or aches. Your body is relaxed, pliant. You feel well-rested.

“It was, yes…” you trail off, absentmindedly pondering on this anomaly.

The man nods, satisfied with your answer, and stands. You have to crane your neck to look at him, and as he turns his head to look out at the rolling hills, lush green and divided in the middle by a dirt path, you see a string around his neck which is attached to a golden helmet. The brim swoops and lifts in the back, colored silver to resemble a pair of wings.

Then he turns to you again, now offering you his hand. “Well the day is too nice to waste staying here. Would you like to take a walk with me?”

You’ve been aware this entire time that you don’t know who he is, and logic would dictate you turn down his invitation. No matter how nice he may be, it would be unreasonable as well as unsafe. But even for all that, you find yourself not tied down by any semblance of reason, and perhaps it’s against your better judgment that you accept.

You take his hand and he pulls you up easily. Maybe it’s his smile that does well to quell any apprehension, for you think you would follow him anywhere. Maybe you were incorrect and to go with him now was the better judgment on your part, because you don’t feel that this is wrong or dangerous. And he’s right: the day is splendid and it would make no sense to stay on the ground alone. It’s better enjoyed with companions.

The two of you follow the trail for a while, pausing whenever small creatures cross from one side to the other: mostly bunnies and deer, but at one point when passing by a lake there’s a duck and her ducklings plodding single-file behind her. As the world around you wakes and you walk in comfortable silence, your anxiety melts away and you instigate a conversation.

“Were you just passing by and happened to see me?” you inquire.

The man glances down at you briefly before looking ahead once more. “I was.” He nods. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

He’s sincere as he says it, and it makes you grin. “Well I’m glad it was you who found me.”

The smile on his lips mirrors yours. “I am too.”

Flowers line the path, leaning inward as if to welcome any who walk past. They grab your attention, and you skip ahead to pick some of them. They only require a gentle tug for the stems to snap and you gather them until you’re holding a small bunch of the white flower in one hand. You bring them closer to your face so you can smell them: the scent is subtle and fresh, like the air after it rains. The man finally catches up to you and you twist around. There’s that expression in his eyes again, one of amusement, and again you blush, attempting to hide it by the flowers as you duck your head, but you don’t think you’re successful.

He peers over your shoulder. “Let’s go this way now. There’s bound to be more flowers in that direction.”

You turn and follow his line of sight. The trail has led to a forest, and veering off here would lead you into the thick of it. The man takes the last few steps to close the distance and stand next to you, and you look up at him. “Okay.”

Sunlight pierces the gaps in the foliage, the rays which light the ground soothing to behold and to walk through. It’s like a painting, calm and peaceful, displayed on the finest marble and you’re honored to be in the midst of it, maybe not as the subject, for you think the birds who cast shadows as they soar above you are more worthy of the privilege, but you’re content to be there at all, even just off to the side.

The woods lead to a meadow and the man was correct: there are more flowers here. Their colors vary, from white to lavender to yellow, and the sun envelopes them all in its heat, unhindered in this clearing. The tall grass shifts with your every footstep and brushes your calves, light as a feather, and you giggle. It tickles.

Your eyes rove over the expanse before you. There are more trees, another portion of forest, on the other side, but this place is so peaceful, and the sun is in the perfect position, centered in the sky, that you would hate to leave so soon.

“I’d like to lay among these flowers…” you murmur. It’s an aside you mean to mutter only to yourself, but given your proximity to the stranger—no, not a stranger anymore, but more of a friend—he hears you fine despite the low volume with which you said it.

“Why don’t we?”

At this, you blink and glance up at him. He’s already watching you with a twinkle in his gaze and he’s smiling. You can’t help smiling too and you feel so warm to be in his presence.

So in the middle of the clearing you find a suitable spot and settle down, lying on your back with the bunch of white flowers still clutched in one hand. You have to squint and use your free hand to shield your eyes from the glare of the sun, but then you close them and the furrow of your brow relaxes, and you can fully enjoy the nature which surrounds you.

Dragonflies buzz and you can hear them flittering along, the beating of their wings louder as they approach, then becoming quieter as they pass. The grass shifts as your friend comes to join you now. He sits, and you hear a brief shuffling before he follows suit and lays down. Together you bask in the sunlight, but for how long, you aren’t sure. Not that you’re interested in tracking the time.

“Your suggestion to tarry a while was a good one,” he compliments, breaking the silence. “It feels pleasant to rest here.”

His compliment makes you grin and your eyes open. You turn your head to look at him. He’d removed his helmet from where it was hanging around his neck and placed it next to him to allow him to lie back comfortably. “The sun makes you feel so refreshed, doesn’t it?”

He hums. “I think it has more to do with the company.” He opens his eyes and also turns to look at you, and the blueness of them is incredibly soft. Your smile grows.

And though you’re confident you could pass the rest of the day in that meadow, the two of you move on. It’s done with a bit of reluctance on your part, but it fades quickly because you agree with him: it’s the company which makes you feel refreshed. The colors of the sky are shifting as mid-afternoon turns into early evening and it occurs to you that you have been walking since the morning yet you aren’t tired, nor has it felt like many hours have transpired. You know it has to do with him. You think you could do this forever, walking with him.

When the sky is a blend of indigo and orange, you ask if anyone is expecting him. We’ve been together all day, you explain. No one might wonder where you are?

He chuckles. “That’s kind of you to be concerned.”

Your cheeks feel warm. He’s awfully good at getting that reaction out of you.

“No one’s expecting me,” he continues. “But even if someone were, they’d understand my lateness, given I’m with someone so sweet. I’m not keen to part ways too soon.”

Your chest feels tight, like your heart is wrenching and you’re scared it might break. “Me neither,” you state shyly.

Then gradually the indigos and oranges transition to black as the sun fully disappears below the horizon and you are sad to see it leave. You’ve also long since left the meadow and the forest surrounding it behind. The land you walk through is wide, flat, empty. There aren’t any plants or animals and it feels foreign, adjusted as you had been to the lush scenery of this afternoon. The only feature worth noting are the mountains that come into view now, which, while you’d already assumed them to be tall, are taller than you first thought as you get closer, so high they seem to touch the clouds, perhaps even extending past them.

“This way.” The man’s voice pulls your attention away from staring up at the clouds. There’s a path that leads farther into the mountain. “Watch your step. It’s rather dark.”

What light of the moon reaches through small gaps in the mountain reflects off the helmet strung around his neck. He takes care to move slowly to ensure you don’t lose him but the glint of his helmet serves as a beacon. The more you venture in, you wonder where you’re going. Should you ask him? The idea of doing so hadn’t crossed your mind all day because you’d been happy just to be with him, no apprehension about the destination, or whether or not there was one. But now…

The words are on the tip of your tongue, about to be voiced, but they die out once you turn a final corner and spot a river. The water is dark, almost black, and a haze settles above it that obscures what might possibly be on the opposite shore. Once you do speak, it’s still a question, but it’s no longer about where the two of you are headed. He doesn’t need to tell you that.

“Wanted to let me down gently, didn’t you?” The manner in which you ask this is quiet, lightly teasing but also laced with a sadness you do little to hide.

Hermes—for now you know confidently who he is—leads you right to the edge of the water and then stops, twisting around. “I chose to take the longer route with you.”

You meet his gaze. His eyes are sorrowful, yet for their melancholy they are still just as beautiful, and they’re tender as he looks at you. “Why?”

He takes a deep breath, momentarily glancing at the water then returning his focus to you. “You hadn’t realized what happened, and I didn’t want to tell you. I decided we would venture through the nature you love so much, taking breaks where you desired, to listen to the bugs and to feel the sun.”

Thinking back to this morning, you recall that when you’d woken up, you hadn’t checked behind you. If you had, you would’ve noticed your body there. You’d been too enamored by Hermes to do that. Though you suppose there are worse ways of being led to the Underworld, and you’d always be grateful to Hermes for choosing to take the long way.

“Through it I’ve grown very fond of you,” he confesses. He offers a small smile, and you surmise it’s a struggle, at odds with a frown because of where he has brought you, and what it implies. “A day with you was a lifetime, and it still didn’t feel long enough.”

You muster a smile of your own. “One day or an eternity, I don’t suppose any length of time ever would.”

A boat comes into view, appearing to materialize through the fog, and once it stops at the small dock, the front bumping gently and the water lapping against the support beams, Hermes gives the ferryman two coins. Treat her well, he instructs. And then he turns to you a final time, and when your heart squeezes, you really think it has broken.

Glancing down, your eyes settle on the flowers you’re gripping. You’d kept them with you the entire journey. But now you hold them out to Hermes, and the heaviness in your chest seems to lighten slightly as he takes them and the expression on his face becomes a little less crestfallen. You would hate to leave him in such a forlorn state.

“Thank you, Hermes.” You hope he can detect the sincerity, and when he smiles faintly, you know that he has.

He helps you onto the boat, clasping your much smaller hand in his to provide support, and he stands on the shore as the ferryman pushes away, watching you until the fog engulfs the boat once more. And though he’s alone, the flowers in his hand make him feel far from lonely.

#hermes x reader #hermes imagine #blood of zeus x reader #blood of zeus imagine #blood of zeus #hermes #bubble-tea-bunny #queue

492 notes · View notes

fieryghxul · 3 years

Text

Margaritas, reunions and confessions. [a.h.]

✧｡:*•.───── ❁ ❁ ─────.•*:｡✧

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Warning(s): fem!reader – dom!hotch (well i tried) – last season’s spoilers – drinking – cursing – smut – unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it tho) – oral sex (fem receiving) – slight chocking – a bit fluff at the end.

A/N: hello everyone! this is super random but i came up with this in the middle of the night and i couldn't shake the idea out of my head. i am not a writer and english is not my first language so if there’s any mistake, i apologize in advance. also, this is my first hotch smut so i hope it’s good. enjoy!

✧｡:*•.───── ❁ ❁ ─────.•*:｡✧

[March 14th, 2020. 8:30 pm.]

“I have to go but promise me that you’re going to stop thinking about work and that you’re going to have fun these days.” You heard the pleading voice of Penelope Garcia on the phone as you walked out of the bathroom.

“I promise. I love you and I’ll see you when I get back.” You smiled and you knew that she was smiling too.

“It’s a date, angel. Love you more.” And with that, the line went silent.

You put your cell phone aside and took a look at the open suitcases on the bed. You didn't have anything planned but you knew you have to go out to clear your head and relax, things at work have been very stressful lately so when Prentiss told the team about taking some vacation time, you didn't hesitate to get a ticket and get on the first plane you found.

And that's why you were currently in a hotel room in Santorini, Greece. Yes, it seems like a lot, but nothing you can't afford.

A few minutes later, you finished applying some mascara and lip gloss, and took a few steps back to stare at yourself in the mirror. The navy-blue self-tie slit dress hugged every curve of your body perfectly; you paired it with a pair of black heels and a black jacket, just in case it gets cold at night. After taking one last look and smiling slightly at the reflection, you turned to grab your bag and left the room, hoping to have a good night once you were out of the hotel.

▪ ▪ ▪

People flooded the streets and it was understandable, the night was really beautiful, there was a light breeze and the full moon was perfectly reflected in the sea. You have been walking for almost 2 hours, taking photos of almost everything and enjoying the night until you came across a bar, the word "cocktail" in the name of the place definitely caught your attention so you didn't think twice before walking into the place.

You walked to the bar and waited for the bartender to come up to you. While you were waiting, you could feel the back of your neck burning, someone was watching you but you didn’t want to deal with anyone yet, so you just ignored it, concentrating on reading the menu even though you already knew what you were going to order.

“Good evening, ma'am. Are you ready to order?” You look up from the menu, a brunette in her 20s is at the other side of the bar was smiling at you.

“Uh, yes, a margarita would be fine.” You ordered, mirroring her smile, and the girl gave you a little nod before walking away.

In the meantime you took your phone out of your bag and opened the ‘bau ladies’ group chat to send one or two of the photos you took a few hours ago with a “next time, i’m bringing all of your cute asses with me.” below them.

JJ was the first to reply, “oh my god, it’s gorgeous!”

Followed by Emily’s “look at that and some of us are still doing paperwork :( get drunk on my behalf please.”

You chuckled under your breath at her text and the margarita arrives just in time, “i’m on it, boss ;) isn't it a little late to be doing paperwork?"

Penelope replies next, “paperwork hahaha what a weird way to spell tara’s name“ and two “PENELOPE!” appear automatically in chat.

“you two are so obvious and spencer owns me 20 now.” You hit the send button before graving the margarita, taking a few sips of it. It takes about 3 minutes for your phone to vibrate again and you were about to answered but you are interrupted by the bartender.

“From the man at that table, ma'am.” She says placing another margarita in front of you and discreetly pointing at one of the tables that were on the patio of the place, you turned around but the only thing you see from the bar is his back. “Don’t worry; it doesn’t have anything weird on it.”

“Thank you...” The bartender walks away again and you stare at the drink, debating for a moment about whether or not to go and face the mysterious man. Fuck it. You decided before putting you phone back in your bag, forgetting about the messages and graving that and the drink before making your way to the table.

“Uh,” you cleared your throat once you reached said table, "can I seat here or are you waiting for someone?"

“Please.” He murmur in a low voice while gesturing toward the empty chair, indicating that you can sit down and a strange feeling of familiarity floods your body at that gesture. You shock your head trying to ignore that before placing your bag aside and sitting down in front of the man.

“I just wanted to thank you for the—“

The words got stuck on your throat and the world seemed to have stopped when you finally laid your eyes on the suited man that you thought you'd never see again.

Holy shit.

You stood still, a part of you fearing that if you moved he might disappear. Your face probably showing clear signs of confusion and shock as Aaron Hotchner sit right there in front of you.

He still looked serious and intimidating, his gaze reimaging cold to those who didn't know him and you remember all of those times you teased him about being a robot, there were times when you actually managed to make him laugh.

Yet at the same time there was something different about him. There was a different glow around him, he seems more relaxed and you could see it in his expressions, even in his posture.

“Hello, Y/N.” Hotchner said, voice still low but strong enough to bring you back to the present.

“Hey.” You said, still processing the fact that he was here with you and in the most unexpected place. “I, uh, it’s been a long time.”

“Almost 3 years.” He said before taking a sip of the glass that rested on his hand, you assumed that it was scotch.

3 years in 6 months, 13 days, 1 hour and 65 seconds. Give it or take.

“Almost, yeah… so what are you doing here?” You asked, “I mean, you were more a city type of guy.”

“I still am, Y/N, but Jack and Jessica insisted on me going on a little vacation because apparently it’s been a while since I had some ‘me-time’.”

Your face light up a bit at the mention of the kid, Hotch noticed it. “How’s Jack? I can barely remember when the last time I saw him was was but he must be so big now.”

“He’s 14 and almost as tall as me.” A smile appeared on Hotch's face, he didn't used to smile a lot and you thought it was a bit normal considering the work that you two shared, but those times that he did you used to felt butterflies in your stomach. Still do apparently. “What about you? What are you doing here? I mean, you were more a city type of girl.”

You chuckled softly when you heard him repeating your words and you shrugged slightly, “I'm having some vacation time, it's rare to have free time at the BAU, you know? So when you do, you take it without thinking twice.”

“How’s the team doing?”

“Good. We're working on some things, going through a few changes, the usual I guess.” This time it was you who drank, taking a long sip of the margarita that was still in your hands.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Do you want to hear me talk about it?”

“Of course, unless, do you have somewhere else to be, Y/N?”

“Not anymore. We might need a few more of this though.” You pointed to the drinks on the table and flashing him a smile, catching a glimpse of his before calling the bartender and ordering another round of drinks.

And then you started talking, Hotch listening carefully to every word that came out of your mouth. You started with the cult that kidnapped Spencer and Garcia and then launching into the saga of the Everett Lynch a.k.a "The Chameleon", you mentioned how Emily is now shortlisted to be the next FBI director and how she would name JJ as the next unit chief of BAU unit, but that remains to be seen; you also talked about Garcia leaving the team to work in Silicon Valley and Hotch noticed the sad tone in your voice when you mentioned that but in part he was happy that everyone was moving forward with their lives, making new decisions and following different paths. You continued with Spencer being a consultant and teaching at the same time and finished with Rossi getting married again then talking about retirement but not fully doing it.

“That’s because Rossi’s never going to retired.” You and Hotch said in unison, laughing after noticing that.

“A lot of things had happened then.” He said, not very surprise and titling his head to one side, you nodded mutely. “But you forgot of someone, Y/N.”

“I did?”

“Yes, you. What about you? How are you?” He asked, his tone of voice changing to a concerned one.

“Oh… I, uh, I’m good.” You began but more hesitant this time, “I will never get used to the changes but its part of life so I just have to suck it up and live with it. I don’t have an outer motive yet so I'm not leaving the BAU, that's for sure. I always knew that that's where I belong and I can’t even bring myself to think about other options.”

“You have always been an important asset to the team, Y/N. The BAU is still lucky to have you.” Hotch said, still sounded like the boss but you didn’t comment anything out loud about it. Instead, you smiled kindly at him and both went silent after that, staring at each other every now and then and finishing the rest of your drinks. It was a comfortable and familiar silence, one of the many that you two used to share while working together in the office or in the long nights in the jet after finishing a case.

Your gaze swept over the bar, noticing the few people that was still there and the employees staring to clean up the place. You took at deep breath, pulling out your wallet.

“Well, Hotch, this was fun. Unexpected but fun.” You left some money under your empty cup, paying for your part of the drinks and Hotch did the same thing. “I should get going now, so—“

“Let me walk you over to your hotel.” He cut you off, grabbing his blazer from the chair and turning to look at you.

“Hotch you don’t ha—“

“Please, Y/N. I insist.” He said and his voice serious once again, just like when he used to get too bossy with the team but with a smile that contradicted that tone and you couldn’t say “no” to that.

“Alright, Sir. Let’s go.”

You grabbed your things and started walking out of the bar, Hotchner walking behind you.

▪ ▪ ▪

The walk back to the hotel was shorter than you thought; maybe it was because you were so focused on Hotchner and the small talk that you stopped paying attention to your surroundings.

“Thank you, Aaron.” You murmur while grabbing the room key from you bag, “But you didn’t have to come up here though.”

“I know, but I wanted to.”

You could tell he wanted to say something, but he didn't dare to do it and it doesn't feel good to pressure him, so you settled for just smiling at him.

And in that moment, standing in outside of you room and looking closely at him, you realized how much you missed him. You didn’t admitted that out loud after he left the BAU, you couldn’t do it because you also never fully admitted your feeling for him. Partially it was your fault, feelings were never your thing and you were afraid of what might happen if you confronted him about it so looking for excuses and reasons to not doing it always seemed easier.

For a while you truly did believed that it was just a stupid crush on your boss, something temporary, until the days turned into weeks and then months, years even, but then… he was gone.

You couldn’t really blame him for that though; he had a good reason for leaving so suddenly.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Hotch finally mumbled.

You looked at him in confusion, “For what?”

“Leaving.”

“You did it to protect Jack; it was the right thing to do.” You reassure him with a smile, you unconsciously took his hand in yours. He didn’t pull away. “Don’t ever apologize for keeping your son safe, Hotch.”

“I know, choosing to be a full time dad to Jack is something I do not regret. It was something that we both needed it, especially after everything that happened with Haley.” You gulped at the mention of the name, remembering how devastated he was after her death. He took a deep breath, “But what I am trying to say is that I am sorry I didn't came back to you or the team, I should at least have called to let you know that we were fine but I got so caught up with the mundane life that it was a little too late by the time I realized about everything I left behind.”

To you.

Those two little words echoed in your head as you look at those chocolate eyes that used to drive you crazy without knowing it. You noticed that he was even closer now, slightly towering over you. It’s now or never, Y/N. You thought to yourself before speaking.

“I waited for you. I never told anyone but for a whole I waited for you to come back, hoping one day to see your demanding self in an expensive suit walking through the BAU doors again but deep down I knew that eventually I had to let you go.” You let out a breath that you didn't know you were holding until now and smiled sadly, “That was easier said than done considering that I never stopped thing about it, about you. Because the true is that I loved you, Aaron. Maybe I still fucking do… but I doubt that this makes any difference now because maybe you never saw me in the same way that I saw you or just because it’s a little too late now.”

You finished and Hotch frowned, probably processing what you just admitted to him. He was silent for a few more seconds and you took it as your cue, letting go of his hand and turning around to open the door of you room. “I had an amazing night, thank you. See you around.”

But before you could even step foot in the room, you felt his hand grabbing your wrist and your chest hitting his. The next thing you knew after that was that his lips were on yours.

Aaron Hotchner was fucking kissing you after admitting your feelings for him.

He pulled away before you could react properly, keeping his eyes fixed on yours; this time he looked at you in a way that you had only fantasized about until now, there was love and lust on them and you could feel it, just all those feelings that you tried so hard to keep locked in the deepest part of you.

And that's all you needed before grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and kissing him again, in a matter of seconds you two were inside the room. His lips were warm and the kiss quickly turned into a desperate one once the door was locked behind you, you could already feel yourself melting in his arms.

You didn’t even realize how it happened, but in one quick moment you were being totally pinned against the door with Aaron holding you by your thighs as your legs were wrapped around his waist. The position was now lifting your short dress, leaving your thighs even more naked but you didn't mind considering that now you could perfectly feel Aaron's hand caressing your hot skin. You move your hands from his shoulders to his chest, undoing the buttons of his shirt and stripping him off it, dropping the piece of clothing somewhere in the room. As you were doing that, he broke the kiss and moved his lips to your neck, nipping and teasing the area just under your ear, turning you into a moaning mess almost immediately. The sounds being like music to his ears.

“Aaron , please.“ You moaned, this was good but you need it more. You needed him.

“Tell me what you want, baby.” He asks, slightly biting the skin of your neck and you bite your bottom lip.

“Please, Sir. Fuck me.” You let out, noticing a sparkle in his eyes that you've never seen before and that only turned you on even more.

“Since you ask so nicely…” He said before walking to the other side of the room where the was a big bed in the center of it, Aaron kissed you lips and put you down in front of him, his hands moving to the zipper of your dress. “Are you sure about this, Y/N?”

“You’re kidding, right?” You asked and Aaron stares deeply at you, the sudden seriousness on his eyes making you gulp. You nodded.

“Words, Y/N. I need words.”

“I’m sure of this, yes.”

“Yes, what?”

Fuck, he was hot.

“Yes, sir.”

He bent down, his hands working on your zipper as he whisper “Good girl.” in your ear and you bite your lip once more, muffling down a moan.

He finally pulled down your dress, tossing it onto the floor completely and leaving you with only your red lace underwear; you weren't wearing a bra tonight, so you were much more exposed to him than you thought. He took one really good look at you before throwing you onto the bed, knocking the breath out of your lungs. Guess that we’re done playing around.

He kneels down on the bed, moving your legs with his knees and positioning himself between them. His hands are caressing your legs again, making their way up to the sides of your body and he leans in, kissing you again, your hands flew up to grab his hair, eagerly responding the kiss. You didn’t care how needy you seem right now, you’ve been waiting year for this, fantasizing about it, and now you had it, not really knowing for how long and that only gave you more reasons to enjoy every second of it.

“You know?,” Aaron began, his lips leaving yours and making his way down your neck, placing kisses all over your skin, “if I had know about how much you wanted me, I’ve would done something about it earlier.”

“Yeah?” You asked, arching your back as he bites one of your nipples gently, his other hand working on the other one.

“I would've pinned you down on my desk and take you right there on the office, baby. Not caring about anyone who could hear us.” He casually said, like he thought about it before and you moaned. You definitely thought about that particular situation too.

When he finally reached the place where you needed the most, he stopped and you were about to complain but Aaron shut you up by grabbing your ankles and yanking you down the end of the bed. He kneels again, parting your legs a bit more, placing one of your legs over his broad shoulders and kissing you inner thighs, slowly making his way to your soaked panties.

“I barely touch you and you’re so wet for me already?” Hotchner asked teasingly, rubbing circles with his thumb on your clit but over the fabric before taking a hold of them and ripping them out. And with no more words, Hotch held both your legs open and buried his face between them, making you moan in a matter of seconds.

He swept his tongue over you pussy swiftly, tasting my arousal first and groaning again your skin. A shiver ran through you as he stared circling your clit with his tongue and then moving down between your folds before going up again, alternating his speed and pressure.

When you thought that it couldn’t get better, Aaron proved you wrong by teasing your entrance with one of his finger and looking up at you, locking his eyes with yours. He wanted to see your reaction. You try to maintain the eye contact as he slowly started pumping his finger in and out of you, curling them an hitting the right spot, a string of cursings leaving your mouth.

It didn’t take much for your legs to start shaking around his head, the knot forming on your lower stomach.

“I’m- fuck, I’m close.” You breathed betweens moans and just when you were about to reach your high, he pulled away.

“Hold that thought, sweetheart.” He shortly kissed your mouth and you tasted yourself in his before he got up off bed, his hands immediately went to unbuckle his belt and now you took your time to watch him. From his messy hair, to the red marks on his shoulders caused by your heels -oops- and then stopped at the large bulge formed in his pants, you groaned at the sight of that.

Fuck, he is big. God, if you weren't so desperate to feel him inside you, you wouldn't hesitate to drop on your knees and start sucking him.

“Do you like what you see, sweetheart?” He asked with a smirk on his face while taking off the rest of his clothes.

“Just fuck me already, please.” You begged and he positioned himself between your legs again, but he was hesitant. “Hotch?”

“I don’t have condom on me and I doubt that you have one, Y/N. I’m clean but if you—”

“I’m clean too and on the pill so don’t worry.” You smiled at him and gave a little nod.

And apparently he was as desperate as you because at all at once, Hotch took grip of your hips and pushed inside you. You immediately arched your back, moaning loudly in both pain and pleasure, your hands grabbing the sheets at your side. You were surprise that you didn’t ripped them apart yet.

“Fuck, Hotchner.” You screamed and he didn’t move for a few seconds, letting you adjust to his size. He really is big.

“You’re so thigh, baby.” He moaned in your ear, the raspy voice sending shocks straight to your core. He was capable of making you cum by just talking.

That’s how much power he had.

And then he finally started moving, pounding in and out of you slowly at first and working his way up, picking up a pace that had you both groaning and moaning.

“F-fuck, Y/N. I love hearing you scream my name.” His lips attacked your neck again and you threw your head back against the pillows, giving him all the space that he needed to play with your neck. And he took this as a perfect opportunity to sneak his hand around it, squeezing under your jaw around enough for your eyes to roll back in total pleasure as you instinctively wrapped your finger around his wrist, holding him in place. You didn’t expect him to be into chocking but you were definitely not against it.

“Harder, S-sir. Please.”

“You’re taking it so good, just like I expected it.” He growled, pulling away enough to look at the whimpering mess that you were right now, his hand never leaving your neck as he pounded even harder into you with every word. “Calling me ‘sir’ and everything, I didn’t even had to ask you to do that. You’re such a slutty responsive whore for me, aren’t you Y/N?”

The sudden dirty words coming out of your ex-boss’s mouth did nothing but to turn you on even more, if that was possible at this point. You weren’t able to form a proper sentence so you limited to nodding and moaning his name. He didn’t like that.

“I asked you a fucking question, sweetheart, answered it.”

“Y-yes, I am, S-sir.” You chocked, the knot on your stomach forming once more and by the way that his pace flickered you knew that he was close too. “I’m close, Aaron.”

“Then cum for me, baby.” He commanded, continuing his thrusts and you were already oversensitive from his earlier work so it didn’t took you long before you started clenching around him.

“Fuck, Aaron.”

“Say it louder, Y/N.”

“Aaron!” He bottom out inside of you again and you moaned loudly one last time as your body reached its limit, hitting your climax with every nerve in you tired body.

“That’s a good girl.” He said between moans, his dick twitching softly as he release himself inside of you with one last and hard thrust.

He let go of your throat but didn’t’ pull out immediately after that. His breathing was a little erratic, his lips were red and swollen, and there was a thin layer of sweat all over his body. He looked disturbingly hot.

Of course he did. He’s Aaron fucking Hotchner.

It was as if these last 3 years had never existed.

Neither of you said a word as he slowly got up and walked into the bathroom of the room to grabbed a wet towel to clean you up, doing the same thing on him before putting back his boxers, you didn’t have the strength to grab your clothes so you just put the sheets of the bed on top of you, covering you nudity.

“Oh, sp now you’re shy?” He snorted, chuckling softly and you smiled.

“Shut up and come here.” You patted the bed and he didn’t hesitate on laying next to you, wrapping his arms around you. You felt safe, like there’s was nowhere else you rather be in that moment.

“Thank you.” He whispered after a moment breaking the silence, his face resting on your shoulder.

“For what?”

“For all of… that.”

“You’ve always have such a ways with words, Hotch.” You chuckled as you looked down at him. “Thank you for ordering my margarita in the first place.”

“It was a pleasure.”

“It really was, wasn’t it?” You wiggled your eyebrows at him in a playful way.

“How long are you staying here, Y/N?” He finally asked and you let out a tiny sigh at the question.

You knew you weren't here for a long vacation and neither was Aaron, you two have your lives outside this room , but being here now felt so good and peaceful. So… right. This, also, was probably a one-time thing, something that was destined to happen eventually, no matter how long it took.

But you didn’t want- no, you couldn’t face the fact that you may have to let him go again. Especially not after what just happened. I mean, how could you?

And little did you know that Aaron was feeling the exact same thing.

“Enough not to have to worry about it right now.” You answered with a shrug while your fingertips trace invisible circles on his back.

“Good. I can live with that, for now at least.” And then he broke the comfortable embrace by getting up and out of the bed, you furrowed you eyebrows and he extended on his hands towards you, “Come on, let’s take a shower so we can sleep properly.”

“Yes, sir.” You took his hand, getting up with his help and trying your best not to limp as you made your way to the bathroom, “By the way, where are you staying while you’re here?”

He turned around at the question, pulling you closer to him and softly kissing your lips before using a more serious tone to say, “In the room above this one.”

Of course he was. You thought while you watched as he began to prepare the bath for the both of you.

Funny how destiny works sometimes.

#cm #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x reader #hotchner x y/n #hotchner imagine #ssa aaron hotchner #sorry if this is a bit out of character #i try my best #thanks for reading

290 notes · View notes

mostlycompetentwriter · 3 years

Text

You Can STAY - Part 12

Pairing: Y/N x Felix (Side Pairing: Y/N x Stray Kids)

Genre: Fantasy AU; OT8; Scarlet Heart AU

Warnings: Lots of Angst; Major Character Death

A/N: This is the final part of You Can STAY. I have determined that I am very bad at writing series, and I apologize for the ending...I imagine that many of you will express mixed emotions.

However, there is a epilogue coming soon in the future! And I will, of course, add all of the parts together into one easily accessible story for future readers!

Nine Months Later

If I were to tell the end of my story, I would want it to go something like this: “At the edge of the Kingdom, secluded in the northernmost woods, a former Castle Mage lived with her husband and unborn son, dreaming about the King who stole her heart.”

I don’t like sad endings, but sometimes there are sacrifices whose consequences are too grave to ignore. While Felix ruled the Kingdom exactly as I had once urged him, I did my part by spending long hours tucked away inside a little cabin as my stomach grew rounder and the days grew shorter.

Jisung was good company, when he was around. In between his visits, he worked on the margins, watching over Felix and working with Chan to secure our borders and alliances. He was still very much ostracized from political life, and Felix, to my knowledge, had never forgave his brothers for their part in the rebellion that changed the Kingdom.

“I can deal with his wrath,” Jisung told me one morning. “I’m perfectly content.”

I managed a smile in return, but it was half-hearted. I knew that Jisung was referring to our marriage, one that only existed on paper, so that he could support me in isolation. He was more than content to live with me and provide anything that my heart desired.

But my heart’s most fervent wish lived in the Castle beyond the horizon, and I could easily glimpse the tops of the tallest towers, wondering if Felix ever looked out from the balcony and thought of the woman he once loved.

Of course he does, a voice at the back of my head reminded me.

“Hyunjin tells me that Felix speaks of you often,” Jisung added, even though it didn’t do much to assuage my guilt.

Thankfully, Felix had accepted Hyunjin back into the Castle as a personal advisor, likely because Hyunjin had nothing to do with Jisung, Jeongin, and Chan’s plan to overtake the Kingdom and dispose Changbin.

It seemed like a distant memory, and I sighed at the nostalgia of those memories: occasions where I walked through the hallways of the Castle, exploring the gardens and distant grounds, thinking of the day when Felix and I would finally both be free to love without constraint.

It belongs in that past, those sort of thoughts, and I had long ago given up on the prospect of a complete family where I could simply exist as someone who wanted to love and be loved.

Of course, there was also the issue of my health.

Despite early good reports on my pregnancy, our doctor had recently decided that my prognosis wasn’t as easy as he had initially perceived: “You might have difficulties,” he told me. “During the birth.”

“Oh,” was all I could manage, and I barely felt Jisung squeezing my hand as everything changed in a single moment.

One day, along the bright edges of the morning, Hyunjin came to visit.

“You look well,” he told me, accepting a drink from Jisung who then came to sit next to me.

“I feel good,” I said, even though there was still a prickling of doubt at the furthest reaches of my subconscious - a reminder that my future was suddenly difficult to presume.

“I’m glad,” Hyunjin replied sincerely, and he turned his attention to Jisung. “I just got back from a meeting with a Southern convoy. Things are turning around.”

“Good,” Jisung said, reaching out to take my hand. “We were worried for a while.”

I forced a smile, barely listening as they continued talking, discussing the same politics that I could barely stand since they had cost me everything.

“Where are you going this weekend?” Jisung asked, and I was faintly aware of Hyunjin’s response, but more than anything, my attention was suddenly preoccupied with a sharp pain in my abdomen.

I winced immediately, and Jisung noticed my discomfort, falling down onto his knees in front of me. “Y/N?” he asked, tone hesitant.

“Hurts,” I managed, and I could see Hyunjin getting up from the corner of my eye.

“Do you need the doctor?” Jisung asked, and I managed a nod, keeling over when it felt like a thousand knives were piercing me all at once.

“I’ll go,” Hyunjin volunteered, but his voice sounded distant, like I had abruptly been submerged beneath the water, struggling to hear.

“Y/N!” Jisung repeated, and his eyes were frantic as they found mine. “You’ll stay with me, right?”

I tried to say something, but there was a peculiar pull to the dark that was far more compelling, and I fell under its spell while Jisung became nothing more than a distant shadow.

When I woke back up again, the shapes and figures surrounding me were difficult to discern.

My stomach rolled and my skin felt like it burning! I groaned at the discomfort, attracting the attention of the two men standing at the door. “Y/N,” Jisung’s familiar voice spoke through the reverie, and he was at my side within moments, taking my hand in his own.

“Hello again, dear,” another voice said, and I recognized the doctor as he released a tired sigh. “Seems like we’re at a difficult point.”

I nodded, opening my mouth to speak, but ultimately deciding to remain silent. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Jisung whispered to me, and my heart ached at the pain in his eyes. “Do you feel like seeing a visitor?”

Not really, but I agreed nonetheless, expecting Hyunjin to enter the room. But nothing could’ve prepared me for the sight of a familiar mess of red hair and bright green eyes. “Y/N.”

“Felix,” I said, voice hoarse and gravelly, but there were tears falling even without my awareness, and I quickly noticed that Jisung and the doctor had vacated the room.

It was a little awkward though, after all this time, looking back at Felix as he looked back at me, gaze heavy with something striking. “Y/N,” he whispered, and I was shocked to see him breakdown, making it to my bedside before falling onto the edge of the mattress.

“Are you okay?” I asked, instinctively, reaching out without hesitation to card my fingers through his hair.

He sniffled in response, looking up at me with tear-streaked eyes and a beautiful smile. “I am now.”

My heart stuttered at his sentiment, and I wanted nothing more than to curl myself into Felix and lose myself there in his embrace. “I missed you,” I whimpered.

“I know, love,” Felix said, and he pressed a kiss to the back of my hand.

“I’m sorry I left,” I whispered - as if it were an afterthought.

“I understand,” he replied, looking at me to expose the truth - he was aware, despite what I had burdened myself with believing. He knew why I had to leave, and there was nothing but peace left between us.

Peace and Love.

“At first, I was angry and confused,” Felix said. “But I read your letter, and I had Hyunjin to help guide me. He helped me realize that you left so that I could fulfill the destiny I had been denied as a child. It was painful without you, but our circumstances were far from trivial.”

“Yes,” I exhaled, tightening my grip on him. “I never wanted to leave.”

“It’s okay,” Felix reassured me, and his eyes were soft as they paused on my lips. “We’ve always been tethered at the soul. Together, even if it couldn’t be in the way we truly desired.”

He kissed me then, igniting a furious passion that had laid dormant inside of me for months. “It’s yours, you know,” I said, pulling back to graze the pretty line of his lashes. “The child is ours.”

Felix inhaled abruptly, looking down at my swollen stomach. “Truly? Hyunjin said that you were pregnant, but I didn’t want to assume-”

“It could’ve never belonged to anyone else,” I interrupted him. “It’s always been you.”

Felix nodded, allowing one hand to smooth down over the sheets, following the outline of my stomach. “This is more than I could ever ask for.”

I smiled at his pretty words, but then I felt a cold sweat break out against the back of my neck. “Felix,” I said. “The doctor told me that the pregnancy might bring some complications.”

He shivered, and I was surprised by the unfiltered grief written across his expression. “I know that too.”

“If I don’t survive-”

“If,” Felix growled, emphasizing that nothing could ever be certain.

“If,” I agreed. “I want you to raise our child. He deserves to be with his father.”

Felix visibly swallowed, looking away as if having trouble completing such a promise, but I forced him to look at me again. “Alright,” he eventually conceded. “If such things manifest.”

“And you need to forgive your brothers,” I said, holding him at attention in case he tried to move away again. “After all this time...”

“Y/N,” Felix sighed. “Why does this sound like a goodbye?”

I held my tongue, glancing down at our intertwined hands. “Think of it as a start to the next chapter.”

Felix chuckled, affectionate gaze meeting mine. “I’ll be here until it’s over. When you can rest for as long as you want.”

“Thank you,” I said. “And you will always have me. In one way or another.”

“I can rest easy,” Felix said, and he started murmuring something soft and sweet to the unborn child inside of me, and I found myself able to breathe a lit bit easier for the first time in months.

I even managed a smile, knowing that I could still give Felix a piece of me after I was gone. Unlike our complicated time together at the Castle, our unborn son would be free of those heavy restrictions, and perhaps it was the better outcome. Because, when I really thought about it, our son wouldn’t just be a piece of me. It would be a little part of Felix as well, and I felt nothing short of triumphant when I imagined a world with the right combination of Y/N and Felix. Together at long last.

Victorious until the bittersweet end.

#stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #lee felix fanfic #felix fanfic #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #skz scenarios #felix imagines #felix scenarios #scarlet heart au #mostlycompetent

48 notes · View notes

rainbowvamp · 3 years

Text

Enchanted

Happy Mercelot week my loves! Enjoy a Cinderella love at first sight au. Featuring Merlin in a pretty outfit and infatuated Lancelot!

@mercelotweek fill for "beauty"

——

Merlin looks down at the bit of fabric in his hands. He’s never tried to alter an object this way. He’d cut a bit of Camelot red from one of the cloaks Arthur had sent to be re-hemmed and was just… looking at it. It was washed, but still obviously worn, fraying in places, no matter how he’d tried to mend it. He hadn’t been particularly keen on the red, but it was the only thing he’d had on hand. He certainly wasn’t going to risk any of his own clothes for something that might not work.

Merlin had altered himself before, sure, but he’d gotten stuck that way as often as he’d done it. A mask couldn’t exactly drink a potion and return to it’s original form. So, he had to be very careful and meticulous when he crafted this spell.

The white of his party clothes was incredible, striking, really, compared to all the other clothes he’d ever worn. Cast offs, surely, but they were beautiful. Morgana or even Gwen might know if they were even still in style, but it was meant to be a bit of a lark, this party. Both for him and the other guests in attendance. The others would be in costumes fashioned from older clothing, or clothing made costume by masks. It was supposed to be fun, light hearted, this party, but here Merlin is, overthinking something as simple as a mask.

He murmurs a spell of his own creation and the scrap of fabric, crumpled and pinned to generally resemble a mask, became something gorgeous before his eyes. The fabric was thinner, almost like lace in weight, but stayed stiff in his hand like it had been over starched. The pins had become fine, metallic dots over the eye holes, and the ribbon he’d use to secure it was almost silk like.

It was beautiful, but Merlin could feel the tenuous nature of the spell. It wouldn’t last forever. It might not even last the night. He could feel the threads of magic holding it delicately in this shape, but ready to break apart at any moment.

Well, he’d just have to make his trip to the party short so he wouldn’t risk being found out. These things usually went so far into the night it became morning, but he’d probably have until midnight before the spell wore off and risked exposing him.

If anyone found out a Servant was mingling with these Nobles, he’d be in the stocks for a week. Maybe worse.

Guinevere, who is his dearest friend and closest confidant, has agreed to help him with his hair for tonight, so he sneaks off to Morgana’s rooms, the lady already down at the party, to get her help, mask already in place, just in case anyone should see him.

The palace feels different when he walks around in clothes that belong to a nobleman. The servants he passes bow respectfully, and it makes him uneasy. How can people stand this? He felt so terrible, watching people avert their eyes and how their heads like he or anyone else had any right to their humility.

In Morgana’s rooms, Gwen adjusts his coat and combs his hair back in a way he didn’t think would suit him, but he ends up liking. He tries once more to convince her to come with him, to just steal one of Morgana’s old dresses and wear a veil, but she’s convinced she’ll be found out, and isn’t willing to risk it.

Merlin has no such qualms, and has vowed to take her involvement with this little scheme to the grave. Or the stocks.

“You look wonderful,” She says when she finally lays her brush down. “You’ll be the belle of the ball.”

Merlin rolled his eyes, “Haha, Guinevere. I just want to see how the other half lives for a night. You’re sure you won’t come?”

And now she rolls her eyes. “The lady Morgan and I are much closer than you and Arthur. She’d notice me, even with a mask. Maybe the next one.”

He smiles softly at her. “Definitely the next one. Besides, you’ll still be there. You’ll just have to endure less of the idle dithering of nobles.”

She giggles, “Merlin, you can’t talk about them like that.”

“I can talk about them however I like dressed like this,” He tugged his collar a bit to show off and that set her off again. She covered her mouth to keep their presence hidden and swatted at him.

“Okay, you’ve made your point. Now go, before it’s over.”

“Love you,” he kissed her cheek and she returned the gesture.

“Please don’t get yourself killed.” Which was as good as an I love you too from Gwen.

“No promises. I did try to fight the prince my first day here.”

—-

Merlin takes a second glass of mead in less than half an hour from a passing try. He knows this will be a terrible idea, but he cannot, to save his own life, stand this lot while sober any longer.

Occasionally one of the nobles will smile and greet him, ask him who he is, but for the most part, people are interested in socializing with those they already know, and the few who approach him are obviously uninterested in him as much as they are interested in the connections he might be able to make them.

“I’m dying out here,” he murmurs to Gwen when she’s pauses briefly to grab another tray to pass around lady Morgana’s table.

“I’m so sorry. You poor dear.” She smirks and he smiles back at her.

“Your turn next.”

“Mhmm, after all the fun you’re having, I can’t wait.”

He laughed as she left and his spirits were lifted for the first time all night. He took a final sip of his mead and left it on a table, deciding to try his luck on the dance floor at the same moment that a set of deep brown eyes caught him from across the room.

“Caught” was not an exaggeration. The smoldering, desirous look in the eyes that looked like they might have been looking at him for a while held him like a man entranced. His breath caught in his throat as the man started to make his way toward him.

He was in chain mail, a knight in a cloak that was unmistakably Camelot red. It wasn’t unlike the cloak he’d cut his mask from.

At the reminder, Merlin focused briefly on his mask, whose transformed state was tenuous. It would last a while longer, maybe an hour, maybe longer.

The determined way the knight walked toward him, through the onlookers, partygoers and celebrators was almost overwhelming. No one tonight had looked so intently upon him. He wasn’t sure how to handle it.

His feet seemed to decide how to handle it for him. Thick dark hair that begged to be tugged at and a mouth made for kissing, it drew him in like so few things ever had. Even with the black mask obscuring his face, Merlin can tell he must be beautiful. The cut of his jaw is too perfect for him not to be.

Merlin is stunned by the time they meet, standing obnoxiously still in the middle of the dance floor. The knight bows to him, and while servants bowing to him had made him uncomfortable, this feels formal, and somehow honorable. He holds out his hand when the knight starts to stand, thinking they might shake, but instead Lancelot takes the offered hand and kisses the back of it, eyes trained on Merlin the entire time.

He is grateful for the cover of the mask, with the way that he can feel the blush forming high on his cheek. He wouldn’t want to embarrass himself in front of a knight.

“Hello, My Lord. I am Sir Lancelot.”

Lancelot. He’s heard Arthur speak of him, in passing. An excellent fighter, perhaps as good as the Prince himself. As he stands, Sir Lancelot smiles at him, and Merlin about melts as his stomach flutters and he stands tall, just about eye level with him.

“Hello, Sir Lancelot.” The words are breathier than he means to be, and if Lancelot notices, he gives no indication.

With the slightest bow he asks, “May I have this dance?”

Merlin had been about to dance on his own anyway. Only, Merlin’s never danced any of these formal noble dances, only remembers celebrations in Ealdor, and in the lower town. He isn’t sure of the steps, but Lancelot still hasn’t dropped his hand, and his mouth seems to speak with the same ungiven authority his feet had moved him with.

“Certainly.”

Lancelot takes Merlin’s other hand to place it on his shoulder, and takes Merlin at the waist. It’s what everyone else seems to be doing, and he’s grateful that Lancelot says nothing when they’re pulled so close their chests are nearly flush.

Lancelot starts to move, but Merlin can’t keep time, keeps stumbling over his feet, and Lancelot’s. “I’m afraid I’m not much of a dancer.” Merlin laughs, afraid Lancelot will simply leave, but the man’s returning smile tells another story.

“That’s alright. Just stop thinking so hard about it. I’ll lead.” He pauses briefly to adjust his grip on Merlin’s waist and then Merlin feels the gentle push of the hand there, urging him to move back, forth, left, right, turn, in time with the music. Between Lancelot’s easy leading, and the way his eyes seem to never leave Merlin’s, it’s easy to feel like they are the only two people here, the only ones that matter.

Merlin finds the rhythm eventually, and the gentle coaxing on his hip becomes obsolete. He still misses the feel of Lancelot’s hand in his when they’re suddenly unclasped and grabbing Merlin by the waist, to spin him around with the flourish as the dance came to an end. He laughs, and the answering twinkle in Lancelot’s eyes speaks volumes for how he’s enjoyed himself.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Lancelot asked, and Merlin smiles, letting the knight take his hand and kiss it again.

“I’d say it was the best dance I’ve ever had. Thank you, Sir Lancelot.”

“I aim to please.” Another song started up, and Lancelot raised an eyebrow. “I’m afraid this one is a group dance. Unless you fancy a half dozen partners and more steps than you can count, we might sit this one out.”

Merlin laughed, “I certainly don’t want that. Get a drink with me?” Merlin doesn’t need another drink, but he is parched.

When Lancelot offers his elbow to Merlin, he almost rolls his eyes, but can’t help the grin it illicits. “Such a gentleman.” He smiles, and Lancelot returns it. They take a seat at a nearby table, long since unoccupied in favor of the dancing.

Lancelot serves him mead before a servant can, highly unusual for a knight, as Merlin is well aware. “Thank you,” he waits for Lancelot to serve his own glass and clinks them together before taking a healthy sip from his. The warmth of the joy of Lancelot and the mead mix together, leaving him feeling heady and relaxed.

“I’m afraid I don’t know your name. Is that terrible?” Lancelot asked, and Merlin laughed in response.

“Few would. I’m hardly a common attendee of these sorts of things. I’m Emerys of Ealdor.”

“Such a beautiful name, for a beautiful man,” Lancelot gestured for a servant to bring the tray they were holding, and thanked him graciously as he served both Merlin and himself honey cakes. “I’m afraid I’ve never heard of Ealdor. Is it far from here?”

“Yes. I don’t see it much, anymore. It’s in Essetir, and it is not exactly safe to pass between the two lands. I haven’t been home in many years.”

Lancelot frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that. I too can not return home. I know how lonely that can be.”

Merlin smiled sadly. “Yes. But I do make friends wherever I go, and that helps.”

“I hope perhaps I may one day be counted among them?” Lancelot raies and eyebrow and Merlin’s besotted.

“Easily. So you do not come from Camelot?”

“No. I was a wonderer for a long time, learning sword craft to become a knight of Camelot, one of the noblest lands I know of.”

“One of?” Merlin asked, and he’s honestly curious. He’s used to the way the knights talk about Camelot, like it is perfect, the most wonderful place to live with the most impressive king.

“The King is very noble. He has a heart for the people not all Kings can boast.”

“But?” Merlin pushes, and Lancelot smiles uneasily.

“But not all of the people of Camelot belong in the King’s heart. It is not always my desire to carry out the laws against magic users, if they’ve done no wrong. But I am always loyal to my king.” He took a sip of his mead, pulling gently on the collar of his shirt.

Merlin didn’t know what it felt like to fall in love, but he thought perhaps this might be it. Like falling and being overwhelmed, and wanting nothing more to steal away with someone who appeared perfect in every way.

“I must say I agree.” He said, and Lancelot visibly relaxed. “But like you, I have no ill will toward the King. He does what he believes to be right, and that is all any man can be asked to do.” And perhaps one day he would see that he was not right. Merlin could only hope.

“Yes. Will you be in Camelot long, after the festival?” The question is so obviously probing that Merlin feels a bit of glee at it, even as his heart sinks, because he can’t have this man. Lancelot is a knight of Camelot, and Merlin is a servant.

“I’m afraid not. I leave tonight,” Merlin smiled wanly, and Lancelot’s face mirrors him.

“There’s no possibility of your plans being changed?”

“No. I’m expected somewhere tomorrow. We’ll have to ride through the night to get there.” This is the first true lie Merlin has told all night, and it aches to say. Lancelot cares for magic users, and he’s kind, and he didn’t ask Merlin what connections he had or how he might be helpful to him. He just wanted to have a dance and talk.

He looks away and meets Gwen’s eyes, somewhere over Lancelot’s shoulders. She looks so sad, and he knows he must look the same.

“When might you be back? In Camelot, I mean?”

“I can’t say. It’s only coincidence that brought me here tonight.” This at least, is true. Merlin never could’ve come to this party if not for Gwen coincidentally finding the discarded clothing in the closer of a long disgraced nobleman. The fact that they happened to fit Merlin was also happenstance, and if not for that, he’d never be here. With an hour of Gwen’s help, she’d been able to tailor them nearly to perfect, and he was loathe to admit he looked quite good.

“That is a shame. We must enjoy tonight then.”

“Yes, we must.”

The song changed and Merlin took as delicate a bite as he could manage of his honey cake before taking Lancelot’s hand. “Teach me to dance some more, you’re fantastic at it.”

This brought a smile to Lancelot’s face. “It would be an honor, my lord.”

They take to the dance floor. This dance, whatever it is, is far more complicated than the last one, and Lancelot also stumbles through it occasionally, which makes Merlin feel just a bit better.

“We’ve nearly got it!” Merlin laughed when the music ended, and Lancelot bowed to him again. Merlin is about to ask him for another one when a tall figure suddenly approaches them.

“Mind if I cut in?” Says another knight of Camelot, this one completely disregarding the dresscode and lacking a mask. His long hair came to his shoulder and Merlin would’ve found him incredibly attractive if it weren’t for the fact Lancelot was already the center of his night.

Merlin bows goodbye to Lancelot, thinking this knight has come for his equal, he certainly wouldn’t be the only knight to do so, but then he sees the hard edge of Lancelot’s eyes and is a bit confused.

“My Lord.” The new knight says, and takes Merlin’s hand, sweeping him away from Lancelot without waiting for so much as a “by your leave.”

“I’m Sir Gwaine. You’re a pretty thing,” the knight says, and Merlin doesn’t find this compliment as positive as Lancelot’s.

“I’m sorry if I have no desire to be called an object.” He said stiffly, and Gwaine laughed.

“You’ve got nerve. Lancelot must like that.” Merlin was swept up and turned, his hands barley having time to grip Gwaine’s shoulders and stabilize himself as he was lifted into the air. “I’m sorry to intrude. Sir Lancelot is one of my dearest friends, and a bit of teasing always does him good. Can you see him?” He leaned in to whisper these last words in his ear and Merlin’s eyes start searching the floor for Lancelot.

He’s not on the dance floor, but is watching them with a deep intensity from the spot where they’d sat and ate the song before. “You’ve upset him.”

“Well, you didn’t have to accept.” The man smiled, and Merlin scowled.

“I thought you were asking for Lancelot, not me. Besides, you didn’t give me time to either accept or deny. Just carried me off like some sort of brute.”

“My apologies.” But nothing about his tone seemed apologetic. “However, when Lancelot gets his hands back on you, I think you might just thank me for my little intervention.”

Merlin’s barely following along with whatever steps, but he’s starting to fume. “What is this? Some sort of joke? Do you find that appropriate?”

“I meant no harm,” He smiled, “I swear.” They turned and for a second his eyes focused over Merlin’s shoulder and he grimaced. “But I’m afraid I may have gone too far. I’m going to get it in training tomorrow.” He focused on Merlin again to grin. “But I’m sure I’ll be able to handle it.” The song ended and Merlin just barely put up with a peck on his hand. Before he can pull away, Gwaine holds his hand tight, and Merlin freezes. “Lancelot hasn’t looked this happy for a very long time. I hope you don’t mean to dash his heart.”

Merlin is shocked at the insinuation. “I’ve only just met him. There are no hearts involved.”

“Mmm, you haven’t known Lancelot as long as I have. I assure you, there are.” He made Merlin take his arm and lead him back to the table where Lancelot was sitting. There was a blond knight standing beside him now, leaning in and murmuring something in his ear. “He falls so quick it’s a marvel he’s ever on his feet. But he’s loyal. I wouldn’t want him to get the wrong idea if you mean to disappear.”

“What do you mean?” Merlin asked, stiffening, and Gwaine shrugged.

“I’ve never seen you before. Neither has anyone else I’ve asked. You’re passing through. Who’s to say how you got an invitation, but you’re not likely to return if you’re making no move to introduce yourself to everyone here. I’ve been a wanderer, I know the signs of someone who only intends to stay one night. If you’ve no intention to stay, I wish you’d leave him be.”

“It’s complicated,” Merlin said voice still tense.

“Everything is. My word stands.” They arrive at the table and Lancelot stands, pulling out Merlin’s chair for him, glaring at Gwaine.

“I’m sorry, I’m afraid I couldn’t get enough of our new friend. But he’s all yours now, Lancelot.”

Merlin takes a seat and is relieved for Gwaine to go. Lancelot looks him over like he’s afraid he might’ve been mauled. “Are you alright? I know Gwaine tends to be a bit… forward.”

Merlin laughed, a bit uncomfortable now after what Gwaine’d said. “I’m alright. He wasn’t too forward. Just a bit blunt.”

“Yes, he’s like that.” Merlin followed Lancelot’s gaze to Gwaine, and hoped that Lancelot did beat Gwaine on the training field tomorrow.

The honey cake he’d left is still there, and so he takes another bite. Things like this were so rarely afforded to him he had to force himself not to scarf it down. The cake was soft and crumbled easily in his mouth, giving way to a sweet, delicate flavor. The soft sigh of pleasure from the taste of it all drew Lancelot’s gaze briefly to his lips, and Merlin felt his face heat. “I don’t usually indulge.” He said, as way of explanation, and Lancelot smiled.

“I’m glad you’ve given yourself the pleasure tonight. Camelot’s kitchens are famous.”

“I can see why.” He says, taking another bite of the delicious cake.

“Perhaps they might entice you back.” Lancelot says with a hopeful look, and Merlin swallows.

“Perhaps.” He’s starting to think that maybe this is no good anymore. He’s playing with this man’s heart, pretending to be someone he is not. As much fun as this is, and much as he’s possibly developing a crushing love for Lancelot, this is wrong. They could never be, simply by the virtue of Merlin’s station.

A clock, somewhere far off, strikes and he jumpsin his seat. He checks the magic holding his mask and finds it worryingly close to breaking. He can’t let his face be seen here.

Luckily, he has a readymade excuse.

“Hell.” He murmurs, putting down the cake and being careful to use the napkin to clean his fingers. Had to keep up this act of nobility, no matter how much he’d rather lick the crumbs from his fingers. “I have to go.” He drops the napkin down and pushes his chair back, throwing Lancelot an apologetic look that is more genuine that Merlin meant it to be.

“What? It’s only midnight. Please.” He takes Merlin’s hand as he stands, stopping him from going any further.

“I have to go. My carriage will be waiting. I was suppose to be there ten minutes ago.” Merlin tugs on his hand, but Lancelot holds it, doesn’t let it go.

“Please, I can’t- It’s too soon.” His pleading hurts Merlin, but now that his anxiety has taken over, he knows it’s just a matter of time before the mask becomes a scrap of cloth and falls from his face.

“I’m sorry. I have to go.” He pulls his hand out of Lancelot’s and rushes as much as he dares to the door.

Sir Gwaine blocks his path just as he gets to the door. “Leaving so soon? Can’t I tempt you for another dance?” Merlin can’t read his face, is too worried to even think about trying.

When he looks behind him and sees Lancelot coming for them, he starts to truly panic. He can’t afford a delay.

He turns his face away from Gwaine and mutters a spell to drop a nearby server’s tray. This distracts Gwaine just long enough for Merlin to slip past him and out of the great hall.

He can hear Lancelot coming, calling after him, but he dare not look back. He mutters a second spell to slam the ballroom doors. This will serve both to slow Lancelot’s progress and hide which way Merlin goes goes.

And considering he’s going deeper into, rather than out of, the castle, it’s very important no one sees his retreat.

He slips through the halls, hearing Lancelot’s cries echo and then disappear as he goes toward the castle door, looking for him.

He’ll never find him.

Merlin swipes uselessly at his prickling eyes. He hadn’t wanted to leave Lancelot, but after what Gwaine had said, he couldn’t stay in good conscience. He swallowed hard to try and keep himself collected, and finally ducked into Gaius’ rooms, gracefully empty.

As soon as the door was closed he felt his magic break and the mask become a scrap of fabric. Camelot-red fell into his lap, and he stared at it, thinking of what might have been, and let himself cry.

#minimercelotweek2021 #bbc merlin #merlance #mercelot #lancelin #lancelot/merlin #merlin/lancelot #merlin x lancelot #lancelot x merlin #day 1: beauty

30 notes · View notes

thelukesalvez · 4 years

Text

Luke Alvez x Reader: The Flower Garden

Prompt: “can you write an imagine where luke is late to someone's funeral (like a family member or something) and realizes that he wants to bring flowers so on his way he steals some from the readers garden!!! fluff if you can :) thanks!”

Tagged: @ssaic-jareau , @alvezstan , @lcvischmitt , @ogmilkis , @goldenalvez , @ssa-morgan , @garcias-batcave , @akimagies, @zhangyixingxing1 , @pinkdiamond1016 , @yourwonderbelle , @rachelxwayne , @sc4rletw1tch , @moreidultrastan , @ellvswriting

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: none

A/N: hi bbys! sorry for being so mia i was on vacation all last week,, here’s a spontaneous, fluffy fic to make up for it!

Luke is late. In every sense of the word, he is so late. He’s been wearing this same pair of jeans for almost 48 hours now and his burgundy polo shirt is scratching uncomfortably underneath his rain jacket. His hands are freezing and he doesn’t even have any flowers. His family is going to be so mad.

He’s power walking, well aware that he probably looks like a mom on a mission in the grocery store (thinking of that makes his heart clench in his chest). There’s one more street to walk down–he refuses to drive there, it makes it feel too real. He stuffs shaking hands in his pockets and turns the corner.

Luke doesn’t have flowers. He’s visiting for the first time since it happened, he’s late, and he doesn’t have flowers.

He’s a block away when he sees them, the roses growing almost chaotically over a small wooden fence. He stops and looks down at them, then around. No one’s watching, so he crouches and picks a decent handful, murmuring a few sorries as the stems snap. He notes the house number and reminds himself to write a thank you note before standing up and continuing on his way.

Everyone’s already there when Luke arrives, eyes watery from the wind. His sister gives him a look that would’ve been terrifying if not for the red around her eyes, and Luke mouths his apology while passing out hugs.

With a deep breath he crouches and places the six roses at the base of the polished stone. “Hi, mom.” Luke whispers, pressing a kiss into his hand and then to her name. “Sorry I’m late.”

I miss you. I stole these flowers for you, the old lady they belong to probably noticed already. My boss gave me a few extra sick days because she knows. I’m tired of everyone knowing. I love you.

…

It happens a few more times in the course of two months, and Luke really doesn’t mean to make it a habit, but he can never seem to remember the flowers until he’s well on his way, and there are so many of them in the garden that he hardly feels bad. He never got around to writing the note.

He’s sitting in front of the grave with a bunch of daisies. “The girls miss you.” Luke says quietly, arranging the flowers nicely along the stone. The white is almost too bright to look at. “We all miss you, mom.” He whispers, feeling a tear run down his cheek. “Today at work someone brought in their therapy dog. I can’t remember it’s name, but it spent the whole time licking my shoe. Reckon he knows, too? Anyway, it was nice.”

Luke never means to cry but he always ends up doing it. It takes about twenty minutes for him to be able to breathe again, then he says goodbye and walks the three blocks to his car.

He usually visits once a week, sometimes one of his sisters comes with him. If it’s his younger one, they go get ice cream after. If it’s his older one, which it usually is, they get coffee and don’t talk about it.

…

It’s running on month six when Luke sees you. He’s holding a beautiful bunch of chrysanthemums by his side, when he notices that there’s someone in the window holding the curtain. You make eye contact, and Luke feels very guilty. You don’t look angry, although there’s a noticeable furrow between your eyebrows. You’re wearing a cotton bathrobe and holding a mug of coffee. Luke could use some coffee.

He doesn’t know what to do, so he just smiles and holds up the flowers. Then turns on his heels and walks as quickly as he can.

“It’s not an old lady, mum, it’s a girl. She saw me today, caught me red handed.” Luke mumbles, laughing a bit to himself as he clears away some old flowers and places the new ones. “She didn’t do anything though, so I think I’m okay.” His voice cracks as he says it, and then, as usual, starts crying.

…

It takes two more times for the rightful owner of the flowers to confront Luke about his thievery.

Luke’s on his knees, picking some cute purple flowers when he hears your voice.

“Um, hello?” Luke nearly jumps out of his skin.

“Oh shit.” Luke says, looking up and feeling his heart sink. “Right. I’m sorry I just–your flowers are very nice.”

You smile and cross your arms over your chest. “Thank you.”

Luke’s still kneeling, hands shaking where they’re holding stems. There’s sort of crooked smile on your face. Neither of you are saying anything. You’re wearing an old shirt with a hole near the hem. Luke’s hands are sweating.

“You know, if you’re going to steal my flowers to take to your girl, I think I’m going to have to come with you to make sure she’s beautiful enough to warrant theft.” You say, oddly calm and good natured.

Luke doesn’t know what to say. He just nods, trying to ease the panic rising in his chest.

“Add a few roses.” You order, and Luke nods, picking a few and standing up, finally. “I’m Y/N, by the way.“ You add, extending a hand.

Luke smiles and shakes it. “Luke.” You smile at him one more time and then you start to walk.

You pester him with questions about his imaginary girlfriend, and Luke tries to answer them in the vaguest way possible, all the while trying to figure out how the hell he’s going to explain this when you get to the cemetery.

“Did she like the daisies you picked last time? I always thought those were more of a flower you give your mom, but I guess they’re nice.” you babble, and Luke almost chokes.

“Yeah, um. Yeah.” he says, his heart racing in his chest. The small side entrance is only a few meters away, and you still have no idea. Luke doesn’t say anything as he walks through the gate, holding it open for you, who immediately stops talking as well.

The silence feels like a heavy blanket, and you just follow Luke as he makes the walk, now committed to memory. Luke almost forgets you’re there, dropping to the permanently grass stained knees of his jeans and managing a smile. “Hi Ma.” He places the flowers around the base of the stone, like he always does. Luke jolts when he feels a hand on his thigh, near his knee. He follows the arm up and meets your sad eyes. Luke hadn’t noticed you kneel, too.

“Luke..” you whisper, obviously surprised. Luke doesn’t blame you.

“Don’t.” he says quietly, sniffling and looking away from you. “I brought someone with me. She’s the one I’ve been stealing all the flowers from.” Luke says, smiling a bit and he hears you mumble a soft hello. “She hasn’t called the cops on me yet, which I guess is good.”

He takes a shaky breath before getting choked up. He puts his face in his hands and this was always just a part of his agenda, but the arm around his shoulders is new.

You start talking.

“The first time I was sitting in my kitchen and I was like, oh god do not pick the hibiscuses, they’ve got bees. But he didn’t, he chose some tulips instead.“ you laugh a little, and Luke almost starts crying again. “Between us, I hope he never stops.” you whisper, and Luke knows he wasn’t meant to hear it. There’s a lot he wasn’t meant to do.

Luke sniffles loudly and sits up to wipe his eyes. Your arm is still around his shoulders. “I’m sorry.” he says out of habit, as he’s been doing every time anyone’s seen him cry since October. But you just shake your head and use a thumb to wipe a stray tear.

“Don’t apologize.” You say, you put your hand back on your own lap. Luke wants to tell you to put it back. “I’ll um, give you some privacy.” You stand up and brush off your jeans. “And, Luke, you’re welcome to my flowers anytime.” You give him a bright smile before walking away.

Luke doesn’t watch you walk away. He turns back to the gravestone and sighs. “She’s kinda nice isn’t she mom?”

Luke can almost hear his mom yelling at him.

Don’t be stupid, dear, go after her.

He kisses his hand and presses it against the warming stone. “I love you.” He gets up, not bothering to dust off his knees and all but sprints back out to the sidewalk. Luke jogs down the road and turns the corner, smiling when he sees you walking peacefully down the street.

“Hey!” Luke yells, picking up to a run. You turn, and stop walking, looking surprised that Luke is running after you.

“Let me, um, buy you lunch.” he says breathlessly. “Figure I owe you one, since I’ve been stealing your flowers for months.“

You smile and nod. “Yeah, I guess that's only fair.”

You talk as you walk to your pick of a restaurant, and Luke feels lighter than he has in months.

…

You walk back to your place, and you make Luke promise to close his eyes as you grab the spare key. Luke thinks that it’s painfully adorable.

“Wanna come in?” you ask, looking down at your feet as you say it. Luke’s cheeks go hot at that, being suddenly floored by how pretty you really are.

“I-” Luke starts, before checking his watch. “Really need to be heading home.” He tries not to let the way your face falls hurt his feelings too bad. “I have work in like, an hour, so.” he explains, and you nod.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. Maybe another time.” you say, eyes wide and hopeful.

Luke grins. “Definitely. I’ll call you–or you’ll see me in your garden, either one.” He throws in a wink and leans in to peck your cheek before turning and walking down the street to his car. At the corner he turns and finds you still standing in your doorway.

…

It was not a good day. Luke has been avoiding sleep because every time he closes his eyes at night, he can’t stop picturing the time he showed his mom how he could climb the tree in the backyard. He fell on the second branch and skinned his shin and elbow. She patched him up and bought him ice cream, and then they watched movies until Luke fell asleep against her on the couch.

He sighs and presses the heels of his palms into his eyes. He’d stopped crying about an hour ago, now he’s just staring at his ceiling with his eyes burning. It’s four thirty. Sleep is definitely out of the picture, so Luke grabs his keys and does the only thing he can think of.

He picks seven roses on his way, hops the fence, and finds he can still cry, forehead pressed against cold stone.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there for, but when he opens his eyes, the sky is more grey than black. “Fuck.” He curses and rubs at his stinging eyes. “Sorry for swearing,” He whispers, laughing a bit. “I’ll be back soon, I love you.”

He stands. It’s about to be five in the morning, and Luke really can’t see himself driving all the way back home. He doesn’t quite know what to do as he walks back, but then he sees the garden, and finds himself knocking on the door.

It takes a few, but you open the door, hair a mess, grey sweats hanging low on your hips. “Luke,” You say, surprised. “What are you doing here?” you ask softly.

“Couldn’t sleep. Needed some flowers.” he mumbles, blinking a few times to try and get rid of the blurriness creeping across his eyes. “Can I come in?”

“Yes, of course,” you say without missing a beat, and Luke sighs, relieved. He toes off his sneakers at the door and lets you lead him through the house. He can tell that you want to ask, but don’t.

In fact, you don’t say anything, and Luke finds that oddly comforting, you just sit next to Luke on the couch and keep your hands curled in your lap.

“I took some roses again this morning,” Luke admits.

“What color?” is all you respond with.

“The white.”

“That’s the best kind,” you assure him. You can keep helping yourself to those.” you say, leaning over and poking into Luke’s side. “Think of it as my gift to your mom, too.”

That makes Luke tear up a bit.

“I should go,” he says, not wanting to start crying in front of you for a second time.

“Oh,” you say, sounding almost disappointed. “Right— okay.”

Luke stands up, his chest feeling tight and his thoughts racing. But in the midst of the chaos, he hears her voice. Clear as day; the reason behind his messy, illogical mind. Don’t be stupid, dear, go after her.

Luke turns suddenly then, and takes a step closer to you so he can hold your hands in his own. “Can I take you to breakfast right now?”

You beam at him, dimples drilled into your cheeks as you nod in agreement. You hurriedly find a pair of shoes and a jacket, stopping at the door to lock it before following Luke out. You walk to his car hand in hand, and it all feels so right.

They get pancakes, and Luke kisses the whip cream off your lips. People give you looks as you laugh obnoxiously and fond over one another. Luke doesn’t care.

He wakes up the next morning in a bed that isn’t his own and to the smell of bacon. He smiles to himself. “I thought I was making you breakfast?” he asks, laughing a little when he sees you standing in front of the stove.

“Maybe if you had woken up before me,.” you say, looking over your shoulder and smiling at Luke.

You sit down to eat breakfast on the couch, a blanket pulled over both of you, and it’s home.

#luke alvez imagine #luke alvez x reader #luke alvez x reader imagine #luke alvez fanfic #luke alvez fic #luke alvez x reader fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader imagine #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader fic

249 notes · View notes

nah-she-didnt · 3 years

Note

I’ll just choose a random one! What about... 17? From the promp list xx

Hello! Thank you for the prompt, I’m sorry it took so long. I just could not get the right angle on it. I actually wrote an entire Hinny response to this, but I accidentally deleted it (womp womp). Anyway, please enjoy this Jily moment!

Read on AO3!

All Your Moments

The atmosphere inside the common room was like that of a poorly-attended funeral. Forlorn students milled about the room, still wrapped in Gryffindor scarves and clad in gold and crimson face paint. A lone banner with a large, moving lion lay crumpled in the corner, forgotten after the devastating loss to Slytherin.

Lily sat among her friends in front of the crackling fire. Peter hugged his knees to his chest as he stared dismayed into the flames. Mary and Dorcas began a sullen game of wizard chess, prodding their pieces around the board half-heartedly. Sirius and Remus sat in the same squishy armchair, Remus’ head resting against Sirius’ chest.

Sirius sighed loudly. “Thank god I got disowned, I don’t think I’d ever hear the end of this from Reg if I still lived at home.”

Remus laughed, but Peter’s face remained unchanged. “I can’t believe we fucking lost,” he muttered into his knees.

Remus threw a pillow in his direction. “Buck up, Pete. It’s not like you lost, just your team.”

Peter gaped at Remus. “You know, Remus, you’ve never really understood the beautiful game that is quidditch.”

“At least he understands his Transfiguration homework,” Sirius snapped.

“Boys, boys,” Remus sighed, throwing a sharp look in Sirius’ direction, “let’s not fight, yeah? Tonight’s depressing enough.”

Lily glanced towards the boys dormitory. James had disappeared up the stairs after the game and had not resurfaced since. She knew he had to be hurting right now. Quidditch had been a massive part of his life ever since he started at Hogwarts, and to lose the championship game as captain in his seventh year had to be devastating. At this thought, Lily hoisted herself up from between the squashy couch cushions and stood, shoulders squared, facing the boy’s dormitory.

“I’m going up there,” she said confidently and moved towards the staircase.

Sirius caught her arm. “Lily, no,” he said gravely, “you haven’t been dating Prongs very long, but let me tell you. He is an insufferable crybaby when he loses at quidditch.”

Lily scoffed. “Oh come on, he can’t be that bad.”

“No, he’s worse,” Peter grimaced, “remember when they lost to Hufflepuff in fourth year and he disappeared into the forest for four hours?”

“Maybe he needs a bit of cheering up,” smirked Mary as her knight decimated Dorcas’ pawn.

Lily glared at Mary. “I’m not going to shag him out of his misery, but thanks for the suggestion.”

Mary shrugged. “It would work, that’s all I’m saying.”

Lily very much doubted Mary’s words as she climbed the stairs to James’ room. She remembered that loss against Hufflepuff. James moped around the castle for a full week, barely speaking in classes, which at the time had been a blessing. Now she felt her heart drop when she recalled the look on James’ face as he dismounted his broom on the quidditch pitch, the Slytherin players celebrating and hoisting the Quidditch Cup in the background.

Lily reached James’ door and knocked softly. There was no reply.

“James?” she called tentatively, knocking, again, “are you alright? We thought you might like to join us downstairs.”

There was no response. She knocked again.

“James, I know you’re upset, but please come down. It’s not the same down there without you.” She pushed open the door, but the dorm was empty.

“That was fast,” Dorcas grinned as Lily approached the group again, “bit of a quick draw, is he?”

“Shut up,” she snapped, “Remus, I need the map.”

Remus frowned. “What makes you think I have it?”

“Because that map is like your baby, now hand it over.”

Remus grumbled but reached into his pocket for the map. Lily snatched it out of his hand and started to scan the corridors for James.

“He must have slipped out under the invisibility cloak,” she murmured as she searched.

“I’m telling you,” Peter sighed, “he’s off to the forest. Someday we’ll tell our kids, ‘oh yeah, I remember James Potter. He was a giant sore loser who marched into the forest one day, never to be seen again.’”

Lily ignored this, her eyes sweeping over the Hogwarts grounds. Finally, she spotted him. “Gotcha.”

She triumphantly stuffed the map into her pocket. Remus flinched at the way she manhandled his craftsmanship, but she couldn’t bring herself to care at the moment.

“Right, I’m off to find my crybaby boyfriend, pray that I don’t get caught by Filch.” The others echoed calls of luck as she made her way out of the dormitory.

The castle was dark and silent as she crept along the walls. Every shadow was Filch, every squeaking mouse was Mrs. Norris. She realized about halfway to the entrance hall that she was in a stupidly vulnerable position. She knew that if she were caught she could just say she was out of bed on official Head Girl business. However, if she ran into any Slytherins on her way out, she would almost certainly be outnumbered. She forced herself not to think about that possibility and pressed on.

She stopped just before the great oak doors to the castle and pulled the map out of her pocket again. There he was, still sitting motionless in the middle of the quidditch pitch. Drama queen, she thought as she suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. No, she needed to compose herself and support him now.

The night air was crisp and warm, not quite the oppressive heat of summer but still pleasant enough without her cloak. She traipsed through the grass damp with mist and across the grounds towards the pitch.

She didn’t know as much about quidditch as some of her friends, but even she could tell that James had played badly that day. He seemed distracted, like he was always one step behind his teammates. In one particularly bad moment James had turned his head to bark orders at his keeper and completely missed the bludger that soared right into his throwing arm. He played out the rest of the game, but he hadn’t been able to make any more goals.

Lily halted at the entrance to the pitch and scanned the dark grass. The pitch appeared empty, but Lily knew better.

“Oi, Potter!” she shouted into the night.

A moment of silence passed. Then a floating head popped into view.

“Over here,” he called. She could hear the defeat in his voice.

She walked the length of the pitch until she was level with James, then plopped to the ground beside him. The water from the grass beneath them soaked through her knee high socks.

“You don’t play fair,” he muttered miserably, “I came out here to mope away from everyone, but you got the map off Remus, didn’t you?”

She grimaced. “I didn’t want you to be all alone.”

James glanced up to the goal posts in front of them. “You know,” he said thoughtfully, “I’ll never play another proper game of quidditch. The whole time leading up to the game all I could think about was winning, but I never thought to just enjoy my last moments up there.”

Lily nodded and reached out to clasp his hand. “I’m sorry, James. You’ll play quidditch again someday.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, eyes still pointed to the skies, “but it won’t be the same. I’ll get over it, I suppose, but I wish I’d played well enough to remember it fondly.”

Lily didn’t know what to say to this. She knew she couldn’t disagree with him. He knew as well as anyone that he played poorly that day, and any attempt to contradict him seemed feeble. She offered him a small smile.

“You know, you have your whole life ahead of you. You’re an incredible man. You’ll do things that are much more important than winning the quidditch cup.”

He laughed and squeezed her hand. “That doesn’t help as much as I’m sure you intended, but thank you.”

Lily tugged at him. “Come on, let’s get you inside. Everyone’s waiting in the Common Room.”

James shook his head. “No, I just want to remember this place for a bit. But could you stay with me? Honestly, after this shit day, I just want a hug.”

She nodded, and they laid back in the grass together, gazing up at the sky. She rested her head against his chest and draped an arm across his waist. They lay in silence for a few minutes, listening to the light wind whip across the open field. Lily could feel water soaking the back of her sweater now, but she didn’t care.

She never knew how nice it would be to share his failures with him as well as his triumphs. Here he was, solemn and dejected, but still open. She realized in that moment how much she wanted from him. She wanted all his moments, his great booming laughter and his silent disappointment. Every new emotion with him felt right.

James finally smiled over at her through the blades of grass that separated them. “I’m a real joy to be around right now, I’m sure.”

Lily laughed. “It’s alright, I like it out here with you. And you never stay down for long, you know. Even now you’re joking around like everything is alright. That’s one of the things I love about you.”

James’ smile slid from his face and was replaced with surprise. She’d never said that word to him before, but it felt natural in the moment. Even now she realized she did not regret her words.

“You love that about me?” he whispered through the darkness.

She nodded softly. “Yeah. I love you, James. I do.”

James blinked stupidly for a moment as if he were processing her words. Then he sat up quickly. “Wait,” he said, eyes narrowing, “you’re not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?”

Lily laughed as she sat up too. “No, I mean it. I love you, James Potter.”

James sat stunned for a moment. Then he jumped to his feet and whooped with laughter.

“I’m sorry,” she said, also clambering to her feet, “what exactly is funny about that?”

James dived at her, picked her up, and spun her around. When her feet landed on the ground once more he held her close and pressed his forehead to hers. “What’s funny, Lily Evans, is that I never in all my life thought you would say those words to me.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “Don’t be daft,” she said, trying and failing to look annoyed, “you must have known.”

“Never,” he beamed down at her then kissed her gently. The wind tugged at her hair and clothes as they swayed for a moment, gripping each other tightly.

Lily suddenly broke the kiss. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“What? Oh! I love you too, of course,” he grinned, “I’ve loved you ever since I’ve known you.”

“That’s more like it,” she laughed, then tackled him back to the ground.

#Nina writes #jily one shot #jily #james potter #lily evans #sirius black #dorcas meadowes #mary macdonald #remus lupin #peter pettigrew

61 notes · View notes

incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 4 years

Note

hiya !! i love you lots and lots !!💖 all your writing is absolute gold 🥺💕💕💕 your answers are so detailed and sweet, makes my heart go doki doki — if you’re still taking requests & it’s not too much trouble could i ask for C U Y for mozart perhaps ? many a thank 💖💕💖💕💖💕

Hello!! Omg of course you can sweetheart, thank you for such sweet praise! I do my best, I hope you enjoy these answers for our dearest Mozart~ 💖💖💖 Ily3!! it’s always a pleasure to see you!!! :D 💕💕💕

I placed a cut before the last one because it was long, but all you need to do is click to see the rest! All wholesome, no content warnings ;)

(These are so long you can hear the Mozart stan in me OTL the limit of my Wolfie love does not exist)

Fluffy ABC Headcanons listed here for requests!

C = Cuddling (how does he like to cuddle?)

(Awwwww shit, I’m softe ;-;)

Mozart tends to be a very private man about his love, so I don’t see him cuddling too much in any kind of public space. The only exception to this rule, however, is that blasted carriage! Though he’s a little mortified he needs comforting, he will melt into MC’s arms when they have a particularly bumpy/bad carriage ride. Usually he’ll try to content himself with holding her hand, or just chatting with her--leaning his head close to her shoulder. But she seems to sense how overwhelmed he is this time; how his hands are locked together to conceal their shaking, his jaw visibly tightening. She’ll draw him into her, settling his head against her shoulder/chest--right where he can hear her heartbeat. He’ll freeze at first before he sinks into her embrace, arms wrapping around her waist. His ears are burning with color, his fair skin easily revealing a blush, but she knows now isn’t the time to tease him about it. His breathing will calm bit by bit, and he’ll settle quickly as his grip around her tightens a little. He’s pouting but it’s clear just how much he needed this, murmuring “Danke, Meine Liebe.” She just drops a kiss to the side of his head, signalling there’s no need for any shyness or thanks, she’s happy to do it after all c;

Another way I see them cuddling is at night in their bed no sexy times, get your head out of the gutter kids. Usually he’ll be doing revisions and composing well into the night, mulling over possible adjustments and melodies single-mindedly. He’ll be sitting up against the headboard, sheet music in his lap as he reviews each page. He loves it when she just climbs into bed and settles against him; whether that means fully climbing into his arms and resting against his chest, or just laying her head against his stomach/lap. He’ll smile fondly and stroke her hair, letting the smooth texture calm him into clarity as she dozes off. These are the moments when inspiration finds him most powerfully, the lovely sight of his muse working wonders.

U = Upset (how does he act when she’s upset?)

Oh my god send help, send help he needs some milk!!!

All jokes aside, I truly think Mozart is at a loss at the sight of her upset ;-;. If he’s not the source of the distress, he immediately goes into comfort and resolution mode. He will try to calm her with all the sensitivity she deserves, offering a hanky and holding her close if she’s crying. He hates to see her cry, but he also understands that in this moment she needs to let it all out, to just feel it through before they can do the work of fixing things. He'll murmur sweet nothings--not that he wants her to stop crying--but that he’s here for her, that it’s all going to be okay and that’s a promise. When she’s ready to talk or feeling up to sharing he will listen intently, silent as a grave, until she’s communicated her feelings.

When she feels heard and comforted, only then will he ask her to wait a moment. He’ll return with freshly made hot cocoa--only the best for Meine Liebe--and hopes the warmth will be able to help soothe her further, focusing her senses elsewhere. If she wants it, he will play music for as long as it takes to relieve any stress/crying headaches. When she manages to fall asleep from the exhaustion, he’ll tuck her into bed and hold her close. He will turn off the lights, but by no means is he going to sleep. He will spend another few hours seething with rage at whoever/whatever it was that hurt her so that she doesn’t have to see him like that (he doesn’t want to distress her further). Or, if it’s something more abstract, he will spend that time trying to puzzle out a solution.

If she’s only mildly upset, he’ll call Schelm to the balcony and hope the fluffy friend will be able to take her mind off of things. He’ll hug her close and rock her gently, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, waiting until she just relaxes against him. As mentioned before, he’ll make hot cocoa, play music, ask her about the flowers she’s tending; just about anything he knows will make her perk up in an instant. He’s pretty simple and straightforward, but it’s because he pays attention to what works and he’s sincere--he’s very consistent in his affection. From afar it’s obvious he’s concerned because he will smile very gently at her, and whenever she turns around his face drops to his neutral/thoughtful expression; you can hear the cogs in his brain moving. It would be funny if the poor guy wasn’t so worried HAHA

Now then, here comes the real doozy. While it happens less and less the deeper they get into their relationship (their understanding of how the other works solidifies into trust), now and again Mozart pulls a stupid. He will know immediately when he’s fucked up because her expression tightens and shuts down, concealing every feeling from him. (She's hyperaware that she can sometimes be more irrational than him, so she locks down her thoughts and emotions.)

She’ll walk away because she doesn’t want to explode and needs a moment to just calm down, reassess. He knows she needs time--and so does he to figure out a proper way to apologize--but fuck if those few days don’t make him wither in self-loathing. He hates it when he says things he doesn’t mean, things that were remnants of a bygone era because they were sentiments that deserved to die. He hates that when he gets stressed out he is prone to verbally lashing out; and he needs to learn how to work at a reasonable pace instead of doing too much and hating every second of his life. He needs to find balance, both for his own sake and because he can’t stand that look. The look that says “not you, too. Please, don’t.” You want the quickest way to gut Mozart? There you have it. Part of it was that she had given him that same look when he first yelled at/intimidated her in that first week at the mansion, and it’s still something he deeply regrets doing. He shouldn’t have frightened her when she was already scared out of her wits and threatened by Arthur. The mere prospect of stooping to that level makes him nauseous and angry he would ever act with such indiscretion; he expects better of himself and he intends to be better than that. He may be a vampire now, but that doesn’t give him grounds to be a monster.

He doesn’t know squat about how to love someone, and maybe he doesn’t even deserve to be with her--but he’ll be damned if he hurts her without trying to amend what he’s done. When she’s calmed down she’ll return to him and try to apologize for the distance, but he won’t let her. He’ll tell her if anyone needs to apologize it’s him, and that he really does feel horrible about what he said. He’s going to promise to be more careful about his workload from now on, since that tends to be what makes him snap. But more importantly, he’s going to try to amend the behavior regardless of that. Anything that hurts her isn’t worth doing; he firmly believes that.

MC doesn’t worry too much after the few times it happens because he crushes the behavior in its tracks very, very quickly in the aftermath.

Y = Yes (how would he propose to her?)

Honestly? Mozart is the type to be a classic romantic when it comes to proposing to his beloved. While one can argue he really only takes music seriously, the same can be said for the person he has chosen to hold dear to his heart. He will spare no expense--no extravagance--in the process of wooing her. He believes that he needs to offer a proposal worthy of her and nothing less if he should seek to secure her hand in marriage.

He pulls out all the stops. He plans it all out to the minute. Buys her the perfect dress, rouge and assorted accessories, and tells her to prepare to enjoy herself all night--no other plans. She agrees easily, though she’s a little flustered by how much he’s spoiling her. When the time comes for them to head out he enters her room with an enormous bouquet of roses, and she’s just speechless as she seeks to soak them in a vase before they go. Dressed to the nines, he escorts her to a lovely restaurant where they dine together. She’s sparkling in her attire, nothing short of dazzling; it’s not just the champagne that’s bringing a light blush to his face. He spends most of that night psyching himself up, working to seem normal, and losing himself in her beauty. Not that he doubted his course of action before this moment--it just strikes him even more deeply how precious she is to him. He would never be here, smiling and laughing and enjoying himself, if it wasn’t for her.

And more than anything, he doesn’t want to give her up to anyone else. He wants to be the one to spoil her like this, wants to be the person she goes to first when she needs something. He wants to be the only one to know her most intimate thoughts and desires. He wants to be the one to make her smile like this, to make delight shimmer in those eyes--to be on the receiving end of such excited chatter. Every part of her is so very dear to him; the mere thought of giving her up makes him feel like he’s been hollowed out.

After dinner, he takes her to a concert hall he had rented out for the occasion. He plays a moving collection of pieces that she inspired (only the best) since coming to the mansion, since she filled his life with so much color. She’s already in tears at this point, and his heart aches at the sight of her eyes glistening--as moved as he is by music, one of their greatest commonalities.

He dries her tears gently with a hanky when it’s over, rising from the bench and coaxing her up with him. When she gazes at him in question, he drops to one knee and reveals the ring that has been heavy in his coat pocket all night. He considered a more extensive appeal, but something about rehearsing a proposal felt wrong, felt too wooden. Instead, he went with the words that were resounding from deep within his heart, the feeling that had brought him to this moment.

“Meine Liebe, you are the only reason my music can continue to thrive. But more importantly,” he presses a light kiss to her hand, squeezing it gently, “You are the only reason I can thrive as surely as my music does. I spent so long lost to myself; I had forgotten why I loved what I did in the first place.” His eyes are lowered, remnants of a surpassed shame lingering in his features. “If not for you, I suspect I’d still be ripping up half-filled scores, half-mad with frustration.”

“Wolf…” her voice is soft, but full of sympathy. It was that tender heart that saved him, that made him really able to live again.

“The prospect of life without you...I can’t imagine it anymore. I want to be the one to make you smile for the rest of your life, to ensure that these tears can only ever be happy ones. Will you make me the happiest man alive in return? Will you marry me?”

Needless to say MC goes straight back to crying after managing a breathless yes, and Mozart sags with relief before pulling her tight into his arms. He slips the ring onto her finger with no shortage of pride, as perfect on her hand as he’d imagined it would be.

Following his proposal, Mozart is even more smitten than ever. Whenever he wakes up before she does, he’ll gently take her left hand and marvel at the sight of the ring throwing rainbows in the morning light, sighing blissfully. When MC stops by to bring him Rouge/Blanc or coffee and a snack during the day, he has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling at the sight of it. “It’s nothing, MC!!! Composing is just...going well today...” Somebody help him his uwus are spilling everywhere

Mozart be like: look at me. serotonin is stored within the MC.

#asks #ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp mozart #ikevamp headcanons #ikevamp fluff #fluffy headcanons #can you hear me in love with our local softecore hardcore tsun AUGH #he is such a lowkey sweetie it absolutely kills me #i need to do more for him every second of writing these gave me life in the best possible way #tysm for the request lovely!!!#you have all my uwus always <333333 #i really hope you enjoy these :D #rambles #not incorrect quotes

132 notes · View notes

greaterspawnislands · 3 years

Text

ain't no compass, brother, ain't no map | of the seed and the sickle

new series incoming! hope you enjoy!

(link in the notes/reblog)

Two weeks after Wilbur exhales his last rattling breath, twelve days after fresh dirt had been shoveled over the mound next to the willow tree, Tommy takes three things with him from the hollow house.

First, the guitar that Wilbur's fingers had been too weak to play in the last few days of his life. His fingers had strummed a chord that was feeble and out of tune before setting the guitar down and turning to his elbow to choke out a cough.

Tommy's own fingers catch along the greased strings, and he hums to himself as he carefully sets it in tune before closing the case around it, the worn leather hugging it tightly.

Next, one of his father's cloaks. The black material slides around his shoulder and the clasp locks neatly. The cloak is a touch too short for him, and when Tommy twists he can see the white diamonds that line the bottom edge. It will not shield him entirely from the biting cold outside, but the cloak subtly shimmers with protection, warmth, unbreaking, and it will have to be enough.

Finally, he stands in front of the Blood God, who watches him prepare with a careful expression. "Tommy," he rumbles, the same way he has every time Tommy declares his plan, the way he has every day since the first. "Are you sure about this?"

Tommy sets his jaw, glaring up at Technoblade. "I'm going to get Wilbur back, Techno."

Techno nods with an exhaustion that doesn't suit him, arms crossing as he leans against the door frame. He isn't in his usual gear that he wears when he leaves for his godly duties, instead dressed in a simple cotton shirt and loose pants. A long pink braid, frayed and falling apart, drifts over one shoulder. Tommy almost delays himself, beginning to reach out to rebraid it, but he pulls himself back. "It's just- he's not going to be the same, Tommy. You know that. You saw him last time."

"I know." Tommy stamps one foot, the cloak rippling around him. "But he's still my dad, Techno, it's still Phil. I have to try."

"It's not just him," Techno warns gravely, and Tommy feels a shiver run down his spine.

"I know that," he repeats wearily, head dipping. "I know."

A heavy hand settles on his shoulder, and Tommy looks up from the floor to meet Techno's burning eyes, managing to keep from shying away from the ever-roaring fire within them. "In that case, I will not hinder you on your quest." He leans forward, pressing a light kiss to the top of the teen's forehead. "May the deities and gods grant you sight and blessing, and may your quest reap the rewards you seek."

Warmth pricks at Tommy's eyes, the source from the same grief that had been sitting in his throat for weeks or years, and he grunts to hide the emotion welling up in him. "Yeah, yeah. Thanks for the sight, Blade."

Techno scoffed, ruffling Tommy's hair as he steps back. "Bring him home, Tommy. Go where I cannot go, find who I cannot find."

Tommy tilts his head slightly, and for a moment he isn't sure who they're talking about anymore. Techno has that faraway look in his eyes again, the one that holds memories from centuries of a friendship that was now splintered and left to wither.

"I will," he whispers, the words sticking in his throat. There is no more dawdling. There is no more point in stalling, there is nothing left to say.

Tommy leaves Technoblade in the threshold of their home, and goes where the Blood God cannot.

Frostbitten leaves crunch underfoot as he passes the treeline, hands drifting along snow-covered bark as he traverses the forest beyond the fields of their property. The trees grow more dense as he travels, tall aspen trees stretching their empty arms across the bleak, cloudy sky. Further overhead, crows dot the treetops, their caws echoing in the otherwise silent forest.

Tommy turns, listening to their cries as he stumbles blindly through the forest. Banking left, the caws grow louder, and two crows balance on a lower branch, peering at him with eyes far too intelligent for any normal animal. Tommy knows who these crows belong to, and it takes all his patience to find his politeness instead of attacking with barbed grief.

"Hello," he murmurs, approaching them gently. The two birds dart back, heads tilting forward as they examine him. "You know where I'm looking to go, don't you?" One caws, blinking once, skittering along the branch. "Yeah," he encourages. "You think you can show me?"

The two crows exchange a look, then look to a third as it flutters down to join them on their branch. In unison, the three birds take flight, easily weaving through the icy branches as they flutter off.

Tommy gapes, clutching his cloak around him as he breaks into a run. "Wait!" he calls, struggling to keep his head up to follow the birds as he navigates the dense forest. "Wait, please! I need to know the way!"

He follows them until his stamina runs out and he staggers to a stop, leaning against a tree as he folds forward, his hands on his knees. "Oh, fuck," he gasps, chest heaving. "Fuck, no, wait, I've lost you all, you haven't-"

An ear piercing caw catches his ear, and from the sound, more crows are startled from their branches, beginning to circle in the sky above him. Tommy watches the murder, transfixed for a moment, until another caw brings his head snapping back down.

Directly across from him is a hill that hadn't been there a moment ago, a cave in the center of it sloping gently downward into what Tommy wished was merely darkness unknown.

"Right," he says, throat suddenly bone-dry. "Thank you, I suppose."

He doesn't want to enter the space, it barely looks tall enough for him as it is. The cave whistles with the wind and whispers words Tommy can't quite make out, and doesn't want to strain to hear.

But the notes lingering in the air sound like Wilbur when he sings in springtime, light and gentle in the warm breeze. It's the image of the three of them on the porch, Tommy watching Phil whittle some wood into a carved pattern as Wilbur plucks away at a beautiful melody.

He grips the strap of the leather guitar case that is slung across his back. The crows chirrup encouragingly, beady eyes watching him with great interest as he steps past the threshold.

#tommyinnit #tommyinnit fanfic #technoblade fanfic #philza fanfiction #wilbur soot fanfiction #mumza as goddess of death #sleepy bois fanfic #sleepy bois inc #hhh.writing #otsats #<- of the seed and the sickle series tag #my writing

10 notes · View notes

jjungkookislife · 4 years

Text

The Key to My Drawer Ch. 2

pairing: taehyung x reader

genre: angst/eventual smut 18+/angst

wc: 1.2k

warnings: cursing, mention of oc’s top coming off, alcohol mention/use

date: June 28, 2020

Taehyung is unaware of what you’ve been up to while he’s been gone, but you scramble to put the letter back into the envelope. You grab all the letters and photographs before putting them back inside the drawer, making sure not to shut it all the way so you can open it later on.

“Yeah?” you call out, buying yourself a few extra seconds to place the key back onto the bedside table before you get off his bed to join him in the kitchen. He doesn’t say a word as he sifts through his fridge, brows furrowing.

“I didn’t get any groceries,” he sighs heavily as he stands upright and looks at you, the fridge shutting behind him. “Do you want me to go before I leave?”

“No, I can get a few things here and there. Does Tannie have enough food for the weekend?” You ask as you stretch before sitting on the kitchen counter. Taehyung glares at you but doesn’t scold you for getting on the counter like he usually does, he knows you’ll be sitting on it often once he leaves in a few minutes.

“Yes, I’ll leave money just in case,” he murmurs as he opens his wallet and places a few bills on the counter beside you.

“I’ve got this, Tae,” you assure him.

He loves you.

You shake the thought away, “go. You’re going to miss your flight. I’ll take care of Tannie and we’ll see you on Sunday night.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come? I can book you a ticket and we can take Tannie with us,” Taehyung pouts as he looks at his little dog sleeping in his crate.

“I’m not going to a bachelor party with you, Jimin and Jungkook. Please, I can’t drink after you all took me out for my birthday last year.”

Taehyung smiles at the memory, “it was a good night from what I recall.”

“My bikini top fell into the pool!”

“Like I said, it was a good night.”

“Tae!” You huff, flipping him off as a smirk tugs at his lips. “Go away!”

“Aw, no hug goodbye?” Taehyung frowns and you hop off the counter to oblige him. Taehyung wraps his arms around you, hugging you tight before you wish him a safe flight and reassure him that his precious pup is in good hands.

Taehyung touches his neck, eyes widening when he realizes his necklace isn’t there. He jogs to his room to grab it and put it on, not noticing the drawer is ajar.

“You and that necklace,” you mutter, only now you know what secrets it held. Taehyung smiles sheepishly, blowing you and Tannie a kiss before leaving.

When you’re sure Taehyung has left, you lock the door and go back to his room. You slip your finger into the corner of the drawer, pulling it out gently.

You empty the contents back onto his bed. Your heart races in your chest, fearing he’ll burst back into his apartment and catch you red-handed. You really didn’t want to invade his privacy, but how could you go on without reading the rest of the letters.

The first letter you read has a question mark on it in the right-hand side of the envelope. You sort through the rest, piling the pictures on one side of the bed and the letters on another. You run your hands over them, spreading them on the sheet until you see a #1 written in the upper right-hand corner of the fading blue envelope.

With a trembling hand, you’re cautious as you take the letter out, unfolding it gently to read its contents.

I don’t understand what’s going on. I mean, I do, but I don’t? I’m not making any sense, am I, Y/n? I’m fucking this up already and I haven’t even said anything. I’m an idiot. Such an idiot.

Look... no.

You see… no.

Y/n… you see what you do to me? I can’t even gather my thoughts long enough to tell you that I love you. Fuck, isn’t that odd? Not loving you, no. Never that. Just saying it out loud, well writing it down. It makes it sound real, almost tangible.

I love you, Y/n.

Holy shit, I love you.

I, Taehyung, love you, Y/n…

Holy fuck… I love you! I love you! I'm in love with you!

And I’ll never tell you..

But it all makes sense now. The nervousness, the fluttering in my stomach when you smile, the way my heart races when you hug me hello. It’s all making sense. Shit. When did this happen? What am I supposed to do? Do I tell you? Do I take this to the grave? Will you hate me? Will you love me?

What do I do, Y/n?

What do I do?

The letter ends. The date scrawled messily in Taehyung’s handwriting. It’s dated five years ago from the looks of it.

Your eyes dart to the envelopes, frantically searching for envelope #2. You find it, it’s rather large but you place letter #1 in its envelope and with utmost care, take out the second letter.

Okay, so I couldn’t show you that first letter. Hopefully, I can show you this one. Here we go!

I love you, Y/n.

There, I said it. Wrote it. Same thing, right? Now how do I say it to your face?

I just have to work up the courage, right? Find the right moment? Hold your hand, look you in the eyes and say, “I love you. I’m in love with you.”

And then you’ll reject me, and I’ll move to Antarctica.

Why is this so hard, Y/n? I mean, I just realized I love you… as more than a friend at least. I’ve always been able to share all my secrets with you, and yet, this is the only one I feel the need to keep to myself.

We’re supposed to be studying for our final exams and here I am, writing you a poor love letter that’s almost as big of a flop as the first one. I’ll keep this one to myself.

I can see you pouting, your brows furrowing. I know you’re worried about passing Statistics, but you always do well. Hell, I’m the one who should be worried about flunking Algebra and I should study instead of writing this letter, but you just look so cute.

My palms are growing clammy, my pen is slipping out of my hand and my fingers are smudging the ink. I can’t stop staring at you though. You’re biting your pencil now, a terrible habit you never grew out of since high school, and you’re mouthing the words as you read your notes. Your index finger twirls strands of your hair before you release it and do it again. Do you know you’re beautiful?

You just whined my name, you want me to stop daydreaming and get back to studying. How am I supposed to study when my daydream is about you being in love with me too? Why should I leave the fantasy in my mind to focus on math? Don’t you know I’d rather study you instead?

Wait… I’m supposed to be confessing my love to you in this letter, not droning on and on about algebra or the cute way you pout when you’re talking about dropping out of school to live in the forest with me and a dog.

If only, Y/n.

If only...

<< previous / next >>

#bangtanarmynet #btswriterscollective #taehyung fanfic #bts fanfic #taehyung x reader #taehyung x yn #taehyung x reader insert #taehyung x you #kim taehyung x reader #best friend!taehyung #taehyung non idol au

268 notes · View notes

wonderwafles · 3 years

Note

Kiss prompt: Tallulah/Caliban, #17?

Funnily enough, you caught me in the midst of writing a fic about them already! Your prompt fit in perfectly. (Now on AO3!)

...

The rain pouring down turned the roads into mud-slick quagmires that threatened to pull him down and never let him go again, which Caliban-8 figured was really just as well, today of all days.

The Hall of Consensus awaited ahead, framed by low buildings and the dark clouds above. He stood at a street corner, the eyes of several civilians on him (he was, after all, famous-by-proxy) and straightened up. He looked devastated, out in the rain. Just as well.

The doors of the Consensus now stood before him. He schooled his features, raised his hand, and knocked.

Consensus was in session; he wasn’t supposed to knock. But this news could not wait.

The doors opened, by the hand of a minor Faction representative — for which, he couldn’t remember. Perhaps there had been a change, since the last time he was in the City.

“Ah,” he said, looking him up and down. “And you are…?”

“Caliban-8,” he said. His voice grated like broken glass in the aftermath of tears. Most people did not think Exos could cry, and yet, by some quirk or feature of their design…

The man still looked confused. Caliban sighed. “Second in command to Talullah Fairwind,” he added.

A few more agonizing moments of silence, making Caliban’s job much harder than it needed to be, before a gruffer voice from behind the door made them both jump.

“Hello, Caliban,” Osiris said. “Open the door, man, open the door! This one has come from long and far to meet us again.”

As with anything Osiris said, there might have been a rebuke buried in there somewhere. It was one of the things that always caused strife between Osiris and Tallulah, who hated the idea of someone talking out of both sides of their mouth at her. Today of all days, Caliban did not ask.

“Osiris,” he greeted the Warlock as he stepped inside.

“I received your message,” Osiris replied, straightforward as ever. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance you come bearing good news?”

Caliban looked around. At the table in the center of the Consensus, the surrounding audience having depleted to only a few stragglers and many empty chairs, Saint-14, the Speaker, and three Consensus leaders sit. A session is in full swing. Part of that must be his fault, for the news he had all but told Osiris he had.

He decided to turn away from Osiris, and make his way down the stairs. “Thank you, my friends,” he said. (Politician speech, but he feels it truly.) “It’s true that I have some bad news.”

Saint turned away, just so. The Speaker is inscrutable behind the mask. Caliban can tell they already know what he’s going to say.

“A couple of days ago, Tallulah Fairwind was killed,” he said. His voice broke at the appropriate moment. He didn’t even need to try. “An Ahamkara got to her. She…”

He took a moment to compose himself, and to remember his instructions.

“She took on a bet with the dragon in order to save a distant village,” Caliban continued. He looked around. All eyes were on him, including what few spectators there were. The rain pounded outside, noiseless and deafening. He closed his eyes, blocked them all out. “She lost the game. She argued that instead of the village, the price should be her life. The dragon accepted.”

He opened them again as he heard the scraping of a chair. In an instant, Saint had wrapped his arms around Caliban, tightening around him like servos in a steel trap.

“My friend,” Saint said. “I am truly sorry to hear this news.”

“As am I,” Osiris said, laying his hand on Caliban’s shoulder. “Tallulah was… a true friend. And a fierce defender of the City’s people, not just its doctrine.”

“I bet she went down like a hero,” Sagira added. “Like always.”

Consolation was murmured across the table. The Faction leaders — he recognized New Monarchy and the War Cult, but who was that third one? — joined in.

Eventually, it all died down, and Saint finally released him. Only the Speaker was left sitting at the head of the table. He had not risen, nor did he say anything while the others spoke.

Now, however, his soft voice drifted throughout the room. “I am sorry, Caliban,” he said. “It was… I first met Tallulah in what feels like the bleakest part of the Dark Age. She was such an excellent Hunter. I thought there was no better choice for the position of Vanguard. I still feel that way now.”

Caliban nodded. He couldn’t help but agree, even knowing how much Tallulah longed to be free. And what she would do to get there.

The Speaker’s mask tilted down slightly, towards what Caliban had in his hands. “I suppose she has named you her successor?”

Caliban held up Tyranny of Heaven. “Her Dare was that whoever got her bow would replace her,” he said, speaking carefully, telling no lies. “She gave it to me just before the end.”

It was a fine piece of work, silvered and made by a hand that almost seemed alien in its precision and beauty. Caliban had always said that it was the first, and only, nice thing that Tallulah owned.

“Look,” New Monarchy’s man said, standing up. “This is grave news, and the City has a long time of mourning ahead of it. But I feel I must say, as a member of the Consensus, that this whole Dare thing is ridiculous. And if Tallulah intended to choose her successors based on Hunter bravado—”

“We’ve had this discussion before, Executor,” the Speaker said. “Mandating a Hunter Vanguard would only serve to drive any potential candidates further away. In any case,” now inclining his head towards Caliban, “we have a very clear-cut scenario here. Tallulah has named her successor. If she trusts him, then so do I.”

Uh oh.

Caliban swallowed, a vestigial tic from the time before the creation of the Exos. All eyes turned to him again. Now was the hardest part. “I’m afraid I have to decline,” he told them all.

Before they could say anything, he pressed forward. “The dragon is still out there, and still a threat,” he said. “I feel… bound to hunt it. To make sure that nothing like this happens again. And I am aware that would conflict with my duties as Vanguard.”

“This does not need your hand, Caliban, skilled though it is,” Saint said, full of patience and grief. “This dragon… we could start a search party. You could lead them, from the City.”

Caliban had always hated Hunter bravado. But now, at least, it made for a good cover. He summoned up every inch of acting ability he had, as well as every ounce of resolve he could muster, and broke his friend’s heart.

“I am bound to this,” he insisted. Real grief filled his voice as he looked around the Consensus. So many friends to say goodbye to. So much left undone here. “The Ahamkara was mine and Tallulah’s responsibility. And now it is only mine. I would not risk any other Guardians to clean up my mess.”

Saint and Osiris bowed their heads. They understood duty. The others… it was hard to get a bead on them.

“Fine,” the Speaker said, a twinge of anger making its way into his voice. “Go, then, and have your vengeance, so long as you leave us another successor to replace a lost friend.”

Caliban cringed. A thread of razor wire tightened around his heart, and he almost thought about calling it all off, telling them all the truth they deserved to know. But not now. Not now that he’d already passed a million event horizons.

“Be kind, Speaker,” Osiris said. “I understand what he’s doing. And I sympathize with it entirely.”

Osiris met Caliban’s eye, and something in there made the Hunter think that he had entirely underestimated the old Warlock.

“Kauko Swiftriver,” Caliban said, as the silence deepened. “He’s a good man. He’ll take up the job, I know it.”

“Good man indeed,” Saint said. “And what of the Dare?”

Caliban thought deeply about this. He couldn’t offer Kauko the bow. And his conscience couldn’t take it if he Dared his friend to do something dangerous just to cover for him.

Then, the answer crashed over him like a waterfall. “I will Dare him to tell everyone here my greatest secret,” Caliban said. And smiled. It was the first time since he had gotten to the Consensus that he felt like smiling. “You all will get your Vanguard.”

…

“That’s a damn evil choice your boy gave me, Tallulah,” Kauko Swiftriver said.

Tallulah laughed, and brushed the hair out of her face. She had decided to wear it loosely now, in honor of new freedom. “I told you,” she said. “He has a dark side.”

Kauko scoffed. “Yeah. Maybe you’ve been getting to him.”

“I’ve been getting to him for a while now.” Tallulah smirked. “But hey. Don’t be too upset. It’s not such a bad life, you know. Saint and Osiris are good people. Just prepare to be the biggest third wheel in the history of third wheels.”

“I think I know what that’s like,” Kauko said. But he smiled. “Fine, fine. Anything for you, Fairwind. Just… be safe out there. And yeah, I know what I said. I mean it. It’s retirement. Enjoy it.”

“I’ll try,” she replied. “Thanks, Kauko. For real. Stay in touch?”

“Sure thing.”

Wishful thinking, maybe. But neither of them said anything else as the terminal blinked out, and Tallulah was left alone in the tiny ship with her thoughts.

Not alone for long, however.

“That,” Caliban accused from the other end of the ship, “was horrible.”

“Cal!” Tallulah brightened up. She couldn’t help it. “Was wondering if you’d skipped out on me!”

But her spirits fell as she saw his face. For a second, a horrible fear that he had changed his mind washed over her, and for a moment she had no idea what she was going to do.

“Was it that bad?” she asked, keeping her voice casual, making her way over to him.

“Saying goodbye to your friends is always hard,” he said. He shook his head. “But I wouldn’t have agreed to do it if I didn’t want to go with you. I just… I hated having to lie to them.”

She sighed. Sometimes, he knew her better than she knew herself. “I know, buddy,” she said. Nothing at all came to mind to make him feel better. “How can I make it up to you?”

Caliban sighed, and wrapped his arms around her. “I don’t know,” he said.

“Really?” she said, returning the hug. “You’re aware you’re turning down a favor from the one and only Tallulah Fairwind, Hunter extraordinaire? One time offer of me owing you, never to be admitted again?”

Caliban smiled into the crook of her shoulder. “You don’t owe me anything,” he said. “I know how this life was getting to you, getting to both of us. I’d do it again in a heartbeat if you asked me to.”

I owe you everything, she thought. Everything, every day, for all the days there ever will be. Sometimes the thought of this truth staggers her, nearly knocks her to the floor.

“Tell you what,” Tallulah said, separating from the hug. “If, in a hundred years, Saint and Osiris are still standing, we’ll pop back to the City and explain ourselves. I bet that’s enough time for them to stop being angry with us.”

Caliban laughed. “You promise?” he asked.

Always, always, always. “Let’s seal it,” Tallulah said, and pulled him closer. Caliban leaned inward and returned the kiss, and for a second it didn’t even matter that their cramped jumpship had Caliban stooping even before the kiss, or that they were leaving behind everything they had ever known for a chance at something better.

Caliban broke away and laughed. “Okay, okay, I believe you,” he said.

“Then let’s get gone before Osiris figures us out,” she said. She went over and sat in the cockpit, keying the engine.

“Nice ship, on such short notice,” Caliban said. “I don’t suppose it has anything to do with the fact that the representative of the new Faction, which just recently rocketed out of obscurity to gain a seat on the Consensus, wears the same logo as the one on the hull?”

Tallulah winked. “Probably just a coincidence,” she said.

“Sure. Last question, then. Do you know where we’re going?”

“I do indeed, so you can stop that tone of voice. I was talking to this Iron Lord pal of mine—”

“All the Iron Lords are dead!”

“Hey, hey! Let me finish the story...”

#destiny #tallulah/caliban #my writing #asksolotl

4 notes · View notes

eivandes · 4 years

Text

I Want You ( Ethan x F!MC x Tobias)

Hello everyone!! 🤓 I'm so excited to share with you guys my first ever fanfic. It feels not real but here I am. I hope you enjoy it! 😇

(English is not my first language, so please try to ignore all the grammatical mistakes I made.)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Elena Ellsworth) x Tobias Carrick

Summary: After Elena learns that Tobias doesn't have any intentions of working with Ethan on their parternsip plan, she decides to talk to him to change his mind. But Tobias has other plans stored for her.

( it takes place after the funeral when Elena's still trying to adjust her life and when Tobias catching feelings for her )

Word Count: 4300+ 🙈 (oh boy!)

When Elena opened her eyes in the morning, she noticed that the sky was finally clear. The rain had stopped, but the air was still cold as ice. She clutched the blanket under her chin and shivered involuntarily. With evey other day, It was getting harder and harder to persuade herself to get out of bed. It was exhausting to see the horrible events that she had experienced recently in her nightmares. Over and over again, tormenting her in her sleep.

Most of the time, when she was around her friends she was pretending to be okay and trying to be normal. But her heart was still heavy with the grief she felt for Danny and Bobby. She dashed the tears from her eyes with her shirtsleeve. Once again, the tears came without a warning, before she even realized that she was crying. Elena was overwhelmed by the burden of getting a second chance in life; while her friends were not given this chance...

She rolled in the bed and grabbed her phone lying on the nightstand. She was surprised to see two texts from Ethan. She swallowed down a surge of excitement and started to read it.

I talked to Tobias, about forming a potential partnership between Edenbrook and Mass Kenmore to be able to overcome the budget cuts. He cut short and told me that he was neither interested in with our plan nor with working together. But I had assumed that he would react this way, as he is well aware that I’m on the board.

The second message was short,

I’m sorry, Elena. We will find another way, I promise.

The darkness, that emptiness that has been covering her for days, gave way to a simmering anger. Her knuckles turned to white as she squeezed the phone in her hand. She was angry for what she’s been through, angry for feeling so weak and powerless, and she was angry with herself for admitting the defeat so easily.

‘‘Not this time.’‘ she murmured to herself as she climbed out of the bed. She took a quick shower and put on a nice sweater without even thinking. She let her rage lead her. She was ready to change the rules of this game.

* * *

The front doors of Mass Kenmore came into view. She stepped into the bright, well-furnished lobby and before she could appreciate the heat inside, Elena was instantly stopped by a familiar face.

‘’You are not allowed to enter this hospital, Ma’am.’’ His words were full of detest. ‘’Or should I call you so-called Dr.Joan Smith?’’

Oh crap! she thought. He was the same security. She’d totally forgot how they ran out of this place with Baz while Ethan waiting them outside, in the getaway car. She evaluated her options. She thought honesty was her best shot.

‘’I’m so sorry for the mayhem we created last time but I swear, I’m here today just to talk-’’

‘‘ Your apology doesn’t mean anything! I was almost losing my job because of you and the company you brought. ’‘ He was still blocking the road. She felt the anger burning through her veins again. But she decided to stay reasonable.

‘’ If you could just call Dr. Carrick and give him my name I’m sure-’’

‘’No!’’ he was spitting feathers. in a flash he clenched Elena’s arm hard and tried to shove her out of the entrance. She didn’t even have the time to protest.

Then she heard his slightly hoarse voice. ‘’ Let her go.’’

When she turned, Elena was expecting to meet Tobias’ usual wry smile but his expression was grave. He was not looking at her, instead he was studying the scene unfolding before him in silence. He clenched his teeth as he glared at the security's clasped hand on Elena's arm. Security’s face fell at those words. But he kept his firm hold.

‘’ But Dr. Carrick, you told me to-’’

‘’ I’m telling you to let her go.’’ Came the gruff reply. His gaze was stern. The man gave in and reluctantly released his hand. Elena instantly withdrew her arm and turned to Tobias, trying to look defiant. Her voice a little higher then she had intended and said,

‘’ It appears that as a hospital, your hospitality only got better since the last time I was here.’’ Before he focused on her, Tobias stared at the security’s unimpressed expression for a few second. Then he visibly softened and put a lazy smile on his face when their eyes met.

‘’So you do remember the last time you were here,huh? We decided to take some precautions after the little stunt you and Ramsey pulled.’’ Elena rolled her eyes. He gestured to the security inattentively with his hand to make him get back to his work.

‘’You mean you decided?’’ she said in disbelief. ‘’ I didn’t realize you find me so intimidating.’’

His playful grin lighted up his whole face. He got closer to Elena and stop right in front of her. He leaned slightly to her ear and whispered with his scratchy voice,

‘’ You would be surprised, Ellsworth.’’ Elena tried to ignore his piercing hazel eyes and the chill she felt in her spine. The air around her filled with the punget smell of his cologne, playing with her senses. She felt like she had no energy left to deal with him right now, but again, she kept her head held high. Took a step back and scowled at him.

‘’I’m not here to play your games. I came to talk to you.’’ she said with determined and fiery eyes. He snorted.

‘’Yeah, I can tell. It's clear that you're not here to offer your gratitude after all.’’For a split second Elena looked puzzled, not getting his point. He chuckled softly at Elena’s bemused expression and added,

‘’You know, I’m talking about this whole ‘I’m dying Tobias, come and save me’ story. Which for the record, I did.’’

Elena let out a humorless laugh. ‘’ It looks like you and I remember that story quite differently.’’ But then she didn't give Tobias a chance to talk in return, she continued with a bored expression.

‘’Enough with the chit-chat. Don’t waste my time if you’re not going to hear me out, Tobias.’’ He looked her over with an unreadable, incomprehensible glare. Lost in her lustrous eyes for a while then he said,

‘’I know exactly why you’re here, Ellsworth. But let’s continue this conversation in somewhere private.’’ He looked around. His penetrating eyes spotting the faces nearby and added,

‘’ away from prying eyes.’’ Elena was surprised to see a few onlookers, trying to stand close, hoping to catch a few words. She hadn’t realized they were causing a scene.

‘’Alright.’’ she said quietly.

He led her towards the elevator. She felt lighter for the first time since this morning, feeling like this can still be turned around after all. Tobias pressed the button to call the elevator. Standing close to her, giving her quick glances, watching her every move. But Elena wasn’t paying attention. A few seconds later, she spoke in a tentative manner to break the silence.

‘’You agreed to talk. Does that mean you’re going to collaborate on our project?’’ He crossed his arms in response, his unfailing smirk returned to his face again.

‘’Depends on how persuasive you can be, Ellsworth.’’ She tried to stifle a giggle and failed.

‘’ Consider yourself convinced then.’’

Tobias swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbed up and down when he heard her soft and light-hearted chuckle. Angry with himself, he immediately looked away. He muttered under his breath,

‘’We will see.’’ To his luck, elevator’s door slid open right after this. They got on the empty elevator together. He pressed the button 8 with his knuckle, the door closed and now they were alone under the soft lights of the elevator’s small cabin. The silence was deafening once more. Elena was biting her lip absent-mindedly, lost in thought. As for the Tobias... He was watching her intently, his face was taut. The tension between them was crackling, almost audible. His gaze roamed over her body again but this time Elena noticed his lingering gaze on her. She narrowed her eyes and looked at him without turning her head.

‘’ Why are you staring at me?’’ she inquired. Her voice stone cold. But his face betrayed no emotion. He looked right into her eyes, afterwards a mysterious smile spread from the corners of his mouth.

‘’It's just... nice to see you in one piece, Ellsworth.’’ Elena turned toward him. Her beautiful face was illuminated by the lights, her eyes sparkling like distant stars. She was surprised to see his own eyes were free from any pretence or deceit. She gave a long sigh, because despite the image, she felt utterly shattered inside. It was like being broken into thousands of pieces and Tobias just seemed to get how desperate she was. Lost for words, she held his gaze as if she saw him for the first time. Tobias had to look away from her intense eyes and cleared his throat as the elevator stopped. He walked out of it first without saying a word. Elena slightly lurched before pacing after him.

He stopped in front of a white, panel door and let Elena in. It was a warm and plainly decorated room. The sun was visible through the windows, facing right at the city. She made herself comfortable on the sofa. Took off her coat. To her amazement, instead of sitting on his chair behind the desk, Tobias took the sofa opposite. He appeared as if that awkward moment in the elevator never happened. he sat with his legs crossed.

‘’So, Ellsworth I'm all ears. What are you offering?’’ he asked. His hazel eyes shone like polished stones under the sunlight but they were rather distant.

‘’I'm offering a way out.’’ said Elena calmly. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

‘’ In order to stave off the worst effects of the budget cuts Edenbrook and Mass Ken needs each other. If you agree with working together we will-’’

‘’ I already know all the details. Ramsey enlightened me earlier with his unusual phone call.’’ He smirked mischievously.

‘’I’m still waiting to be convinced though, Ellsworth.’’ He finished his sentence as if it was a question. Elena fixed him with a level and unfaltering gaze. Keep your cool, she reminded to herself and made another attempt.

‘’ You know it will be lucrative for both sides.’’ This time, he just yawned annoyingly. She took no notice of his frantic gestures and continued,

‘’It’s not any different from deciding to treat high profile cases. Don’t forget it’s still about saving your hospital. Even if that means you will be working side by side with... with Ethan.’’

He straightened in his seat and leaned mildly forward, sneering at her.

‘’What if I hate his guts and try to avoid him at all costs? Then what would you give,’’ He paused, his eyes fixed on Elena’s soft lips. ‘’to persuade me to work with him, Elena? ’’ He finished his sentence in a slightly hoarse tone. A peculiar feeling settled in her stomach when she heard her name from his mouth for the first time.

She tried to control her temper. It was clear that he was trying to turn this into a big show. She decided not to play by his rules. Elena also leaned forward, mimicking Tobias. She looked up and down with her arresting eyes before she spoke.

‘’Do I really have to remind you that both of you are adults and professionals? You can easily separate your personal life from work.’’ He just checked his watch, undisturbed.

‘’Have you finished? I have patients to check.’’

‘’ You’re not even listening!’’

‘’Because you're not saying anything worth listening to.’’

This time Elena started to feel like she’s out of her senses. For real.

‘’Stop being an asshole, Carrick!’’ She yelled hysterically, running her fingers through her hair furiously. ‘’You’ve already showed you are capable of working together under pressure. To save me and Raf, remember!?’’ He just smiled smugly.

‘’Did you really think I would change my mind if you called me an asshole?’’

‘’ Oh, believe me I’m thinking of calling you things much worse than that!’’

He visibly tried to contain his laughter but couldn’t stop himself.

‘’Jeez, Ellsworth! I forgot how feisty you are.’’

‘’It’s not funny.’’

He smiled crookedly as he studied her. She was still glaring at him furiously.

‘’Stop looking at me like that. I’ve already implied I find you intimidating. I don’t need further proof.’’

Elena ignored his words and watched the city outside of the window, trying to control her ragged breathing. She felt weak, powerless again. Suddenly missing Ethan; his comforting arms around her body. She understood why Ethan had hesitated to call him in the first place. Tobias was definitely hard to handle.

A few seconds later he got up and poured a glass of water for her.

‘’Okay, timeout.’’ His voice was almost apologetic. ‘’ You might need this for round two.’’

She didn’t take the glass and remained silent. With a long sigh, he put the glass on the coffee table and sat back. He laced his fingers under his chin, gazing her steadily.

‘’ Let’s choose a different path. Since you suck at being persuasive big time I’m going to offer you an alternative. It’s totally up to you, whether you accept it, or not.’’ Elena was sceptical.

‘’ What do you want?’’she asked, eyeing him suspiciously. Tobias looked solemn. His deep-set hazel eyes never leaving hers and said,

‘’ I want you.’’ Unable to speak, she just gaped at him for a second.

‘’ WHAT?!’’

‘’ If you want me to agree with your project, you’re going to start working here and you will complete your residency at Mass Kenmore.’’ She stopped dead in her tracks.

‘’There’s no way in hell I’m doing that!’’

‘’If you’re worried about your spot on the diagnostics team, don’t. You will have a place in my team, me as your boss obviously, with considerably better privileges and-’’

‘’Are you serious right now?!’’ Elena spilled the water on the table when she got on her feet in a flash.

‘’Yes, I am.’’ said Tobias in a toneless way. ‘’ It’s your decision, Ellsworth. I’ve already stated that. A decision that might change everything.’’ She was in a towering rage.

‘’Stop playing your stupid mind games on me! Tell me, are you doing this just to punish Ethan?’’

His eyes glinted in the light ‘’Does it matter?’’

‘’Yes, it does. I won’t let you hurt him like this. My answer is NO!’’

Tobias didn’t look convinced.

‘’Before you give an answer ask yourself how bad you want to save your hospital. What you are you willing to sacrifice on this road. First and foremost, it will be lucrative for both sides.’’

‘’ SHUT UP!’’ She snapped at him and started to pace in the room with her palms pressed on her temples. Tobias leaned back in his seat, lips curling up into a small smirk. But he couldn’t tear his eyes from her.

It’s too much, Elena thought. It is all too much! The voices in her head were too loud that she needed a few minutes to let everything sink in while he was waiting patiently.

She wanted this partnership because she believed this was the only way. Only way to save Edenbrook. She was even ready to lose her job for this, that was what she had told Ethan and Aurora back at the Memorial service. Why was this any different? Why she just couldn’t bring herself to say yes? What would happen if she refused his offer?

Elena closed her eyes for a brief time. She thought about Ethan. He would never let her do this, let her go. Not after been waiting for so long to be together. She thought about Edenbrook and how special it felt to her; a home beyond question. And she thought about her friends. How her friends were always with her when she was down. All the things they’ve been through...

Then she finally returned to her seat with a cold expression on her face and said,

‘’ Give me some time to think.’’ her voice even colder.

‘’ No.‘’ He was dead serious. ‘’As soon as you walk out this door, you will lose your chance to take my deal.’’ Elena didn’t show her true colors. Deep down she already knew she made her decision but she was afraid of it to slip out of her mouth. She was afraid of saying out loud.

‘’Call Ethan and tell him that you changed your mind.’’she said, after a minute or two. Tobias raised his eyebrows, his eyes wide.

‘’So you’re saying yes?’’ he asked tentatively. Elena was quick to reply.

‘’Yeah, I’m transferring to Mass Kenmore. But call him now. I want to make sure you don’t play a trick on me.’’ Tobias’ honey-colored eyes sparkled. He grinned like a Cheshire cat.

‘’Oh,harsh! I'd better act like I didn't hear it.’’She only glowered at him, Her words like a threat when she warned him.

‘’ Don’t say a word about our agreement. I want to tell him myself.’’ He winked at her as he took his phone out of his pocket.

‘’Fair enough.’’

‘’And turn the speaker on.’’

‘’So demanding.’’ he said seductively. he found his name from the contact list and hit the call button.

‘’I knew you would make the right choice,Ellsworth.’’ he said, whispering.

‘’Give it a rest for God’s sake!’’ Elena snapped. He pressed his lips together to not laugh. Ethan Picked up the phone after four rings. Her heart sank when she heard his voice.

‘’What do you want?’’ Ethan’s voice was distant through the speaker.

‘’Straight to the point, I see.’’

‘’As you’re well aware, I'm actually on the clock right now and I have no time or patience or willingness to deal with you.’’

‘’Then it’s a relief Ramsey, that our feelings are absolutely mutual.’’ Ethan let out a long sigh. Elena pictured him in his office, pinching the bridge of his nose.

‘’Just state the purpose of the call,Tobias.’’

Tobias looked at Elena and she nodded in an agreement.

‘’I’m in. I accept your offer about the partnership.’’ Ethan trailed off for a second.

“What changed your mind?” he sounded cynical. Tobias gazed at Elena with fire in his eyes. A dark and unreadable expression passed through his face.

‘’I realized that this deal is more profitable for me than I thought.’’ His eyes shifted to her lips, lingered there, than to her eyes again. ‘’ I realized that this is all I want, all I need.’’ Elena didn’t catch what Tobias just implied. All she could hear was her own heartbeat. It was beating like a drum.

Ethan kept his silence.

‘’ I didn’t expect you to be so... passionate about saving your hospital.’’ he said flatly.

‘’ I am. I want to make myself useful. Just like you are doing this just to make Elena happy.’’ she shook her head in disbelief and raised to her feet again, this time with panic and she put a finger on her mouth to make him stop talking. Then they heard Ethan’s next words from the phone.

‘’ You’re overstepping the mark, Tobias.’’ His voice was low and terrifying. Upon this, Tobias also got up and pace towards Elena. She gave another signal to hang up the phone. Tobias was clearly having a blast didn’t do such a thing.

‘’Whatever you say, Ramsey. Ah, by the way, she sends her regards.’’

‘’What?! Is Elena with you...-’’ He hanged up the phone. Elena was in a total shock.

‘’What the hell was that?!’’ He was enjoying the pure astonishment on her face. They were standing so close together.

‘’Relax, I didn't say a word about our little agreement Elena.’’ he said, as if he didn’t cause anything bad.

‘’You’ve done worse than that! How long do you think it will take him to figure out what's going on?’’ Elena’s phone rang right after she finished her sentence. She was afraid to look who’s calling. She was afraid to make explanations. Things got so far, she thought. Tobias grinned at her wickedly.

‘’ It appears not that long.’’

She grabbed her phone from her coat with shaky hands and she got a lump in hear throat as she read the name on the screen. It was him.

The anger was bobbling inside her. She blew a fuse when she charged toward Tobias, pushed his chest with all her might but he didn’t even move.

‘’I've never hated anyone before, more than I hated you!’’ He beamed at her with a playful grin.

‘’ At least you’re feeling something.’’ he reached out to touch her hair but she shoved his hand.

‘’Don’t you dare touch me you little bast-’’ In a instant, he snatched her arm and he pulled her closer towards him until their lips were almost touching.

‘’Don’t forget, I still will be remembering these little cute things you say about me when I’m actually your boss, Ellsworth.’’ He put a dangerous smile on his face, as he took in all the small details of the beautiful face right in front of him.

‘’ Let me go!!’’ Elena tried to get away from him. He released her and sat to his chair behind the desk.

‘’We’re going to have so much fun together.’’ Elena grabbed her coat and bag from the sofa in a hurry.

‘’ GO. TO. HELL Carrick!! You’re much needed there.’’ She left the room, slamming the door behind her but that couldn't stop her from hearing his mischievous laughter.

Her heart was pounding in her chest. Her phone rang again. Tears started fill her eyes as she saw it was Ethan. She waited until she was out of the building to pick the phone.

‘’ELENA?! Thank goodness! I was worried sick. Where the hell are you? Are you okay?’’ It was enough for her to give in, hearing his voice again. She felt the hot tears rolling down her cheeks. She couldn’t say a word.

‘’ Elena please say something.’’ He sounded as if he was in a state of hopeless despair.

’’Tobias implied that you’re with him, I was just coming to your house to check you. He’s not answering my calls-.’’

‘’ Ethan.’’ she interrupted him.

‘’ What is it, Elena? Just tell me what you need.’’

‘’I... I did something.’’ There was no escape from the mess she made now. ‘’Something probably bad.’’

Tags: @ohramsey @openheart12 @schnitzelbutterfingers @colossalpainintheass @choicesstan1 @ethandaddyramsey @oofchoices @mayascherub @caseyvalentineramsey @mvalentine @akaishinkirou @openheartconfessions @drethanramslay @rookie-ramsey @valentinesdiaries @openheartincorrect @they-callme-ami @olivershens @senatorraines

I tagged random people cause I really don’t know how this works. If you’re not okay with it, please let me now :)

#choices #playchoices #ethan ramsey #open heart fanfiction #open heart second year #open heart #tobias carrick #dr ethan ramsey #dr ethan x mc #fanfiction #fanfic #pixelberry #choices oh

48 notes · View notes

shyvioletcat · 4 years

Note

“I like you begging. Do it again.”

*laughs nervously* warnings for violence and blood

~~~~~

The sense that the world was not right woke Aelin from her sleep. It was Iike a ripple in the fabric of what held their world together, a shift that Aelin had felt before.

Aelin’s immediate reaction was to reach for Rowan, but he was not there. She bolted upright, desperately searching for her mate.

“Hello, Fire-bringer,” a cold, hard voice said.

Aelin head whirled to the window where silver moonlight illuminated Rowan kneeling in front of a female figure. Even though she held Rowan in place she seemed to be made of the moonlight, a pillar of silver and white. It was not only the female that had Aelin summoning her fire to her fingertips. It was the obsidian blade, as dark as the shadows of the moon, that she held to Rowan’s throat. Aelin knew who had come for them. It was Deanna, Goddess of the Moon and the Hunt.

“What is it that you want?” Aelin said, not bothering with polite words.

“What is it that I want?” Deanna laughed and her corporal form solidified a little more. There were scars all over her body, her face. One eye was damaged by three claw marks that started from her forehead and ran to her cheek. “I want what was promised to me.”

Rowan’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. That knife coming so close to cutting skin.

“You got what you deserved,” Aelin said, rallying herself for a fight.

Deanna hissed. “Those demons killed many of us before we killed them. Much of our beautiful world they destroyed. But you made a mistake, we learnt the secrets of the gates. That is how I have come to you. To seek my revenge.”

“Aelin,” Rowan breathed but Deanna pushed the knife against his throat. The smell of his blood filled the room as Aelin saw it trickle down his neck.

“It was you I came for, Fire-bringer. But I am not a monster, I am not going to kill and expectant mother. Protector of the Young is what the people of this miserable world called me.”

Aelin’s body went cold and Deanna’s words hit. Mother…

Her eyes met Rowan’s. Did you know?

I knew. I knew, Fireheart. A single tear rolled down his cheek.

Deanna’s smile turned malicious and Aelin was overcome with desperation and she stepped onto the floor. “Please, Deanna. Do not harm my mate. Please.”

“I like you begging. Do it again,” Deanna said as her eyes pointedly looked at the floor and back up, a self assured arrogance emanating from the Goddess.

Aelin read her meaning, what she wanted her to do. Aelin would bow for no one. But she would for those she loved and protected, she would do it for her mate and… and the father of her child. The cold of the floor cut into her knees, but she was sweating, her whole body was damp as the panic set in.

“Please spare him, Deanna. I will give you anything. Please do not take Rowan from me.” Aelin held her hands out in supplication, her voice shaking. She could not lose him, she would give Deanna anything she asked for.

A small, vicious smile appeared on Deanna’s lips. “You have nothing that I want.”

Aelin didn’t have time to scream as Deanna slashed the obsidian knife across Rowan’s throat, his blood spraying. Aelin stumbled over to him, not seeing Deanna fade into moonlight.

“No. No, no, no,” Aelin said over and over pulling Rowan into her lap. His life blood seeped from the savage cut on his neck. “Rowan,” Aelin sobbed. “Rowan.”

Her hand hovered his would as she called on her healing but it wouldn’t go near it, like it was repulsed but it. The blade, it was poisoned. Aelin couldn’t fight it, whatever it was it was beyond her power to heal.

“Help! Help!” Aelin screamed. “Hold on Rowan. Someone will come. You just need to hold on.”

Tears were falling from Aelin’s eyes, his blood was flowing too fast. He needed someone now. Aelin looked into those pine green eyes that she loved and she saw tears in them. Rowan tried to speak but only blood spluttered from his lips.

“Don’t you dare leave me, Buzzard. Don’t leave me.” Then Aelin remembered Deanna’s words. “Don’t leave us.”

Rowan’s hand was shaking as he raised it and laid in on her stomach, red staining the fabric of her nightgown.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Aelin sobbed.

I’m sorry, Aelin. I’m so sorry…

Rowan closed his eyes, his body going heavy. Aelin felt the mating bond start to fray, it was fading into nothing. She scrambled to catch hold of it, hold on it. Hold on to him.

“Rowan, no. You can’t,” Aelin begged him.

Her begging once again came to nothing as Rowan took one last shuddering breath, blood leaking from mouth and nose. His body went still and Aelin’s world went silent as that precious weight in her chest was nothing but an empty void. Rowan was gone. The gods had exacted their final revenge…

A gasping breath brought Aelin to consciousness, tangled in the sheets of her bed. There was an ache in her chest and her cheeks were wet with tears. Rowan wasn’t here, the bed was empty except for her. She couldn’t breathe, her fingers clawing at her chest where she could feel the lingering phantom tug of the mating bond. Because he was gone, Rowan was gone and she was alone.

Aelin couldn’t stop the sobs that wracked her body. They hurt, the way they tore from her throat, pushed her lung to the point where they felt as though they may burst. Rowan was gone. He had been taken from her, just as all good things had been. It was what she deserved after all she had done. Saving her kingdom would never be enough to atone for what her past held.

A wind blew in through the open door that led to her private garden, it carried the scent of pine and snow, just to mock her in her pain.

“Aelin?”

No, that wasn’t Rowan’s voice that she heard. It was her mind recalling the sounds of his voice, because Rowan couldn’t speak with his throat cut. The sound of blood was all that came from his mouth. Aelin closed her eyes to pain, it was too much, it was taking everything in her not to set the room on fire.

Cool, large hands rested on her wet cheeks. No, this wasn’t real. Why was her mind torturing her like this?

“Fireheart, open your eyes. Look at me.” Rowan’s voice held a command that she could not refuse and she opened her eyes, blinking against the tears that kept falling.

Rowan’s face hovered above her, his face concerned and slightly terrified. Aelin reached up running her fingers across his neck where Deanna had let life blood flow from his body. There was no cut, not even a scar, this wasn’t real. This was not real…

“Breathe for me Aelin, I need you to breathe,” Rowan said, his hands still on her face. She tried, but there was only fire.

An icy, gentle wind caressed her body, coaxing her to cool that burning fire in her veins. She let it deep into her body, into her lungs, let the essence of Rowan calm her racing heart. Aelin took one breath, and another, then another. The burning dissipated, that icy wind played against her skin.

“Rowan?” She said at last.

“I’m here, Aelin,” he said gently, easing her up to sit then pulled her into his lap.

Aelin fisted his shirt in her hand breathing in his scent, letting it ground her.

“This is real, you are awake and I am here,” Rowan murmured in her ear, answering the question she could not voice. “I am here, Aelin. It was just a dream.”

Rowan just held her, waited for her to decide whether or not to tell him what had happened.

“Deanna, she found us,” Aelin said, her voice hoarse and broken. Her fingers brushed at his neck again. “She cut your throat and you died in my arms.”

“She is gone, Fireheart. You banished her and the others to a place worlds away then unleashed hell on them. They will not find you again,” Rowan promised.

Aelin let his words settle on her soul. Rowan was right, the Gods were gone, she had sealed them far away from their world and the people she loved. She was safe, Rowan was safe. Aelin let Rowan hold her until any thoughts that suggested otherwise were burned away with the morning sun.

Rowan lifted her chin with her fingers and kissed her. “Nothing and no one will take me from you Aelin.”

“From us,” Aelin said, not thinking before the words were out of her mouth. It seemed the dream still held her by its claws.

“What?” Rowan said as his brow furrowed in confusion.

Aelin’s fingers traced the lines of the tattoo of Rowan’s face. “Nothing. In my dream Deanna told me I was pregnant. You already knew, but you hadn’t told me.”

Rowan stilled her hand with his, his body taking on the preternatural stillness as his nostrils flared.

“Rowan what is it?” Aelin asked.

Rowan swallowed, then said quietly, “You are.”

“I’m what?” Aelin said. She knew what he was talking about, but she wanted to hear him say it.

“Fireheart, you’re pregnant,” Rowan said, a gentle smile on his lips.

Aelin let out a shuddering breath. “This isn’t really how I wanted to find out. Deanna telling me from beyond the grave.”

Rowan let go of her hand and cupped her cheek, wiping away the tear that fell with his thumb. “Growing up as one of the eldest cousins I heard things from my aunts. Some of them had strange dreams just before they found out they were pregnant. Maybe this is our child’s way of making a dramatic entrance.”

Aelin laughed, the sound a bit broken through her joyful tears. “I don’t think I would expect anything less given your penchant for dramatics.”

Now Rowan laughed, a deep sound from his chest as a wide grin spread over his face. Aelin expected a contradiction, for Rowan to call her out on her own love for dramatics but he didn’t. He instead eased her down onto the bed, one hand sliding down her body to rest on her stomach and kissed her.

~~~~~

I was going to leave him dead… I really was. I was riding some crazy angst wave induced by lack of sleep and Rowan was the sacrifice. But @nalgenewhore managed to convince me otherwise. Very Lucky.

Tags: @fucking-winchester-trash // @literary-licorice // @galyxsy // @tangledraysofsunshine // @highqueenofelfhame // @3am-reading // @soup-that-is-too-hawt // @aelinfire-bringer // @nalgenewhore // @highladyofthesith // @http-itsrebecca // @sleep-and-books // @average-girl-at-best // @alifletcher2012 // @westofmoon // @sleeping-and-books // @ttakeitbacknoww // @armixers-unite // @mariamuses // @chocolate-eating-bitch-queen // @velarian-trash // @queenofxhearts // @heroesofterrasen // @highladyofstoriesandmusic // @empire-of-wildfire // @camerooonchiu // @crackedship // @lowhangingtreebranches // @over300books // @yourwhisperingshadows // @thesirenwashere // @tswaney17 // @impossiblescissorspeachpaper // @cat5313 // @judelovescardan // @flowerspringsea // @chaoticskyy // @the-regal-warrior // @fanfictrash3000 // @blueeyes425 // @starseternalnighttriumphant // @bamchickawowow // @thehuntressofmoon // @giorgia-the-trashpanda // @flora-and-fae // @thereaderandfangirl // @illyrian-bookworm // @chemicha // @meltalgel-ig // @gay-book-nerd // @that-odd-puzzle-piece // @i-love-all-books // @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato // @girl-who-reads-the-books

222 notes · View notes

ideasthatbuildcities · 3 years

Text

Why Are You Doing This to Me? - Inuvember Day 2

Hello everyone! I’m here to bring you Chapter 2 of my Inuvember fic “It’s Time Already”.

Like I said, I’m going to use the Inuvember prompts and write a whole story inspired by several prompts. The idea of this story is that you can read each chapter as a One-Shot for each prompt or you can read the whole story throughout Inuvember!

This is going to be a very angsty fic with a happy ending, I promise you. So please, bear with me.

Summary: After the final battle with Naraku, the well closes and never opens again, leaving Inuyasha and Kagome 500 years apart. Inuyasha decides he will wait for her, but he knows his friends can’t do that. How do you cope with losing the love of your life and think that you would never see them again? How do you cope with not being able to say goodbye to your best friend? Only time will tell. [InuKag] [MirSan]

You can read chapter 2 below, in FF.net or in AO3.

“Why Are You Doing This to Me?” - Kagome.

“Inuyasha, Inuyasha!” Kagome screamed after she saw him disappear in the well. She could feel her heart pumping loudly against her ribcage. He couldn’t be gone. This couldn’t be it. She climbed down the stairs of the well, sitting at the bottom. “Please, please, Inuyasha I know you are there,” Kagome whispered as she started digging with her bare hands, as if she could dig through time and space, just to see him again. “Please, please, I need to see him again,” she begged once more. To whom? She didn’t know. It was getting hard for her to see, the tears in her eyes making her vision blurry.

“Kagome, you need to rest, I’m sure the well will open tomorrow,” her mother said as she grabbed her by her arms, trying to comfort her and making her stand up. That simple action startled Kagome, when did her mother climb all the way down to the well?

“Momma, he’s gone,” Kagome said, looking up to her mother. Everyone was gone, not just Inuyasha; Sango, Miroku, Shippo, Kaede… all of them were gone. They were all… dead. Realization hit Kagome like a ton of bricks and she started to cry, clinging to her mother as if she were her lifeline.

“Kagome, you need to sleep, everything will be better tomorrow, I assure you,” Momma Higurashi replied, kissing Kagome on the top of the head.

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

Kagome stood up in front of the well. The day before had been a failure, she tried to jump into the well and nearly broke every single bone in her body. That day she decided she would take a different approach.

She put both hands on the well and tried to feel that spiritual power that used to come from the wood. That power that was within the well… She felt nothing. The well was a simple well and no longer had any sort of spiritual power. That was why it wasn’t working anymore. Its power was gone, she was back in her time as if everything was back where it should be. Except… she wasn't where she belonged. She belonged right next to Inuyasha, right by his side.

“Please, I need to see him again,” Kagome cried once more, sorrow filling every inch of her body. “Please,” she begged again.

From that day forwards, Kagome would visit the well every single day, trying to sense any sort of spiritual power coming from it. And every single day, she would leave with a lump in her throat and with a little bit less of hope of ever seeing Inuyasha again.

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

“Where am I?” Kagome wondered, she was standing in a beautiful meadow, surrounded by trees. Kagome took a deep breath, the air felt so pure. Hope building up inside of her, she looked around. It couldn’t be real, could it? Was she back at the Feudal Era? Her heart was about to burst from happiness as she started to run, looking for everyone. “Inuyasha!” Kagome screamed his name, looking for him. He should be hearing her, right? Kagome kept running, and calling everyone’s names, “Sango, Miroku, Shippo!”. Suddenly, the whole force of her body sent her falling down. She must have tripped on something, her knees hurting from the fall. Why did she fall? Kagome looked around and saw a bump on the earth. Horror building up inside of her, she paid more attention to her surroundings.

Kagome was facing four graves. Covering her mouth as if that would muffle her screams, she read the names on the graves: “Inuyasha”, “Sango”, “Miroku” and “Shippo”. It couldn’t be. Were they… dead? Feeling sick to her stomach, Kagome started to cry.

They are dead, they are never coming back, you are never coming back. They all died and you weren’t there for them.

Kagome woke up in the middle of the night, completely covered in sweat. Slowly coming back to her senses she started to remember her dream. Everything had felt so real and it was so painful to her. She didn’t know how long it would take for this wound to heal or if it would ever heal at all. She was exhausted. Every night she would dream something different, that she was with Inuyasha, that she was pregnant with Inuyasha’s baby, that she saw her friends get married and have babies, that she played and took care of Miroku and Sango’s children, that she had a little girl with Inuyasha and they were happy together…

Every night was a constant reminder of everything she had lost. The dreams were worse than the nightmares. Monsters and death she could bear, dreams where she was happy and then waking up alone, having nothing? Those were the ones that gutted her.

Feeling miserable, Kagome grabbed a sweater and headed to the Goshinboku. That tree was guilty of everything, it was guilty of making her time-travel, it was where they first met, she was connected to them through that fucking tree that was laughing at her.

“How could you do this to me?” Kagome spoke up to the tree. Why was now the time to stop working? Her mission had ended but her relationship with Inuyasha and her life were just starting. Since the Shikon Jewel was destroyed then there was no use for her anymore? What about her feelings? Tears were running down her face as she looked up to the Goshinboku.

She was tired of this, but she wouldn’t stop trying.

“I miss him everyday, I miss everybody, please, let me go back,” Kagome begged once again, sinking into her knees. “I want to go back, please, take me back, take me to him. Take me to Inuyasha.” The mention of his name, saying his name out loud made her sob even harder. She was so tired. Every day that passed by made her time in the Feudal Era seem like a dream. Everything was so distant, so different, everything seemed so far away…

She felt the tree top move and her hopes came back full force. Had that worked? Kagome couldn’t believe it, maybe after all these years the well had reopened? She ran as fast as she could to the well, stood in front of it and placed both hands on the rim of it.

Nothing. She felt nothing. No sacred power, no burst of energy… nothing. It was the same broken well that has been for the past two years.

That night, Kagome made up her mind. Everything had been a cruel twist of fate and she needed to let go of the idea of ever seeing her friends again, of ever seeing him again. She would stop waiting for the well to reopen. She needed to move on with her life. Her life, that life was in the past and was no longer part of her. She would do everything in her power to get closure.

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

Kagome was excited for the first time in what felt like ages. She had found a text that dated all the way back from the Feudal Era and she could feel how her heart raced. It was a very old book, so old that the pages could be destroyed by merely looking at them. She started to read, to search through the pages.

This book was written by an old monk and Kagome felt her heart skip a beat when she realized she had seen that handwriting before. It was Miroku’s handwriting! It was different somehow, shakier than it used to be. Then it dawned on her, he must have written this when he was Kaede’s age. The tears started to build up in the corner of her eye and she could feel how her body started to tremble; she fought the tears as she tried to keep reading. The mention of a kitsune friend, the mention of a warrior: his love and mother of five children.

Kagome couldn’t stop the laughter that came out of her mouth. Miroku and Sango had five children together! They were there and they were very real. They actually existed and apparently they lived their well deserved happily ever after. The joy led to sadness, as she realized those kids were practically her nephews and nieces and she never got to be aunt Kagome to them. She never got to hold Sango’s hand and help her through her labor. She wasn’t there to cry tears of joy when Sango found out she was pregnant and-.

Kagome needed to close her eyes for a second and get a hold of the table because everything started to spin really fast. She needed to remind herself why she was there. She needed closure. Of course life moved on for them, of course they got to live the life they deserved. Knowing she wasn’t there for them was too painful to bear, but she needed to feel that pain. She needed to know what happened to her friends.

Once everything stopped spinning, her eyes went back to the last sentence she was reading, she wanted to devour every single word Miroku wrote. Her heat stopped when she read his name.

“Inuyasha…” Kagome murmured, as if he was a deep secret that no one could even hear his name. She leaned back on her chair, moving away from the book as if the book burnt her. Did he find love? Did he die on the battlefield? Did he have a family? She took a deep breath and leaned slowly towards the book. The mention of Inuyasha was brief: He took good care of Kaede’s village, he took good care of Miroku’s and Sango’s kids and their grandchildren. Kagome knew it was extremely selfish to be relieved that Inuyasha didn’t find love, at least during Sango and Miroku’s time. She felt glad that it was, at least, as hard to find love again for him as it was for her.

Towards the very end of the book Miroku wrote, she spotted her name and she couldn’t stop the smile that formed in her face because she could swear she remembered all those times that she explained to Miroku that her name was written using hiragana only, and not kanji.

And I’ve written all of this because I want to share my story with the world, but specially, I want to share my story with my dear friend Kagome. She’s no longer with us but I know this book will find the way to reach her hands and she will read this.

Kagome:

We lived our lives fully, but we missed you deeply. We know you miss us all, but rest assured we were happy. Don’t lose hope, because we know you’ll be happy too.

And with that sentence, the book came to an end. Kagome felt like time had stopped and she wasn’t able to move. The only thing she could feel were her tears that were freely falling from her face. Had she just read some words Miroku wrote to her five hundred years ago?

She never thought she would know what happened to them, less alone read a message from five hundred years ago. But there they were, words written specially to her and Miroku knew she would look for them.

That night, Kagome dreamt of Miroku, Sango, their children, Shippo and Inuyasha. It wasn’t unusual of her to dream of them; what was unusual is that she didn’t wake up covered in sweat or crying. When she woke up, she felt happy. She felt as if she was able to say goodbye to her friends.

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

Kagome looked at the miko garment on top of what used to be her bed. She looked around, as if wanting to remember, wanting to keep her past alive, wanting to keep him alive. Her heart plummeted when she saw her window, waiting for his red haori or his silver mane to show up, as he used to do five years ago.

She gulped down a sob and decided she was there to help her family and that’s all. She would be the miko her family shrine needed, only for this festival. Her grandfather recently passed away and the family needed someone to carry around the shrine duties for today. After all, she used to be a miko in training.

Kagome quietly changed her clothes and looked into her reflection in the mirror, looking how much she resembled Kikyo now that she was older. It seemed like a door was opened because she couldn’t fight the tears this time, the grief coming crashing down on her like a waterfall. Everything was too painful, she was looking at the life she could have had with Inuyasha. She remembered her friends, her journey, her grief. She remembered everything as if it were yesterday. She was back at the bottom of the well, begging for it to open again. All she could do was sit down in her bed and cry, mourning everything she had lost those four years ago.

“Kagome are you okay?” her mother asked, sitting down right next to her and holding her. “Do you feel sick? What happened?”

“I’m okay momma, it’s just… looking in the mirror was a bad idea.” Kagome answered back, trying to calm herself down. Even though she had closure and she thought the wound had already closed, some days were harder than others.

Her mother was always there to pick her up when the weight of the past was too much, when she woke up in the middle of the night after having nightmares, when she felt a lump in her throat after seeing Sota eating ramen...

“Kagome, if it’s too much we can find another wa-”

“No, momma, I’m okay. I will be. I need a minute,” Kagome cut her mother in. She closed her eyes and tried to focus exclusively on her breathing. She breathed in like she had learned to do all those years ago. Inhale, two, three, four, five. Exhale, seven, eight, nine, ten. Inhale, two, three, four, five. Exhale, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

Eventually her breathing technique calmed her down and she was able to stop crying. She was doing this to help her family and to keep the memory of her grandfather alive. She needed to be the miko that she used to be.

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

“This is the Goshinboku,” Kagome said to a couple of visitors. They were supposed to be the last ones to enter the shrine since the shrine was about to close.

“Why is this tree so special?” the girl asked, looking at her with her round eyes.

“This tree transcends time. Legend has it that a girl met a boy under this tree five hundred years ago and they fell in love only to be separated again. This tree being the only hope for them to be reunited again,” Kagome replied with a polite smile, one that never reached her eyes.

“Oh...” the girl simply replied, unconsciously leaning closer to her boyfriend.

Kagome knew the girl wanted to hear a fairy tale about lovers reuniting, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell that story. That story felt wrong because it wasn’t real. She was still waiting for Inuyasha and the tree refused to help them.

She said goodbye to the visitors and looked up to the tree once more, taking a deep breath and wishing to be reunited with Inuyasha again. It was five years ago, when she turned fifteen, that she met him. Now, the only birthday gift she only cared about was being reunited with Inuyasha again.

She looked at her watch and saw that she needed to hurry if she wanted to meet with her friends at the bar today. Since she was the last one to turn twenty in her group, the girls wanted to take her out to a bar so she could legally taste alcohol for the first time. Kagome shook her head while remembering all those times she tasted sake in the Feudal Era, when she was staying the night at a palace thanks to Miroku’s shenanigans. If only her friends knew how much she used to drink when she was fifteen years old.

In the corner of her eye, Kagome saw a dark haired man getting closer to the Well House and she wanted to scream in frustration. She was so tired that the idea of dealing with tourists that barely understood Japanese made her want to scream. Couldn’t the man read the signs that said “No visitors allowed in this area”? She just wanted to change clothes and try to go back to being Kagome.

“Excuse me, sir. This place is not allowed for visitors,” she said while getting closer to the man.

“I think I’m allowed to be here, Kagome,” he simply replied.

When the man turned around to face her, the wind was knocked out of her lungs. Suddenly, the only thing Kagome was able to hear was the beating of her heart, beating so loudly that it was almost painful. The only thing she could see were a pair of golden eyes. She covered her mouth with her hand, shock written all over her face.

Did he call me Kagome? How does he know my name?

The man that was standing in front of her was an older, more human, version of Inuyasha. Was this a reincarnation of Inuyasha? Was this actually Inuyasha? It couldn’t be. If this man was Inuyasha, where were his ears? What happened to his silver mane? But how did this man know her name? He had to be Inuyasha. She tried to fight them, but the tears were already building up in the corner of her eyes.

Inuyasha was dead, wasn’t he? He stayed in the past, she stayed in the present. That’s what she told herself over and over again every night when she woke up from a painful dream.

Maybe this person was a descendant of Inuyasha? There was no way that this man in front of her could be Inuyasha, her Inuyasha. But again, how did he know her name?

A swift breeze danced between them and she could hear the rustle of the leaves of the Goshinboku, as if they were whispering something. She remembered Miroku’s words, the ones she read over a year ago.

Don’t lose hope, because we know you’ll be happy too.

Could it be? Was that Miroku’s way of telling her that she will be reunited with Inuyasha?

Afraid of breaking the illusion, she did the only think she could think of: she whispered his name.

“Inuyasha.”

“It was time already,” he simply replied with a smile.

In that moment, Kagome knew. The man in front of her was Inuyasha, he was her Inuyasha. She didn’t know how, she didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was that Inuyasha was alive, and that they were finally reunited.

Kagome did the only thing she could do: she ran into his arms and she hugged him the same way she did when she dreamt of being reunited with Inuyasha. The only thing that changed is that he hugged her back and when Kagome opened her eyes, he was still there.

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

Aaaaand cut!

This was Kagome’s chapter. Tomorrow will be Sango’s chapter so yes, we are not getting the InuKag reunion we all want yet. But I say we give Sango a chance, she has a story to tell!

I honestly hope you like this chapter, I can assure you it broke my heart several times but I wanted to make sure to do Kagome’s pain justice.

Like I mentioned, this chapter is not heavily edited as my other works, so sorry if there are any typos.

Tagging:

@witchygirl99 @fantastiqueparfait @doginabirdcage @inuvember @hinezumi @meggz0rz @heyy-ahriii @cammysansstuff

Let me know if you want on/off the tag list!

#Inuvember #Inuyasha fanfiction #Inuyasha #fanfiction #fanfic #InuKag #Kagome Higurashi #Kagome #Sango #Miroku #MirSan #canon divergence #angst fanfiction #LiaSango writes #InuKag fanfiction

29 notes · View notes