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tomtenadia · 3 years

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A Little Braver - 20

Even if I had a crazy day at work I did manage to do my Monday post as promise... but if you notice typos...I am sorry. I read it and edited but my brain left with the boat tonight (I work for a ferry company, hence the joke)

This is the first of a few chapters where our bird boy is away and Hamel is causing problems to our gang.

Also, Aelin tries to cook... well... you can imagine how did that go.

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After the trip to the base Aelin had taken home a very sad Elide and then got back to her own place and cried herself to sleep while hugging Rowan’s pillow. It was very late in the afternoon and it was her day off and she had no intention of leaving her bed.

Her head was buried under the pillow when she heard her phone buzz so she scrambled to get it and her heart raced when she saw it was Rowan.

“Hi,” she said with a croaked vice.

“Are you okay?” Rowan was already in fussing mode.

“Yes I just woke up.” She heard a lot of background noise “where are you?”

“Vulture’s row.” He activated his camera and showed Aelin the view of a fully functional flight deck. “Uh, wait.” He pointed the camera stern of the ship and showed Aelin a jet landing.

“That was so cool.” He turned the camera to him and she saw him with his sunglasses and his hair messed up by the wind. Then he switched off the camera and they went back to normal.

“Are you there yet?”

“We are skirting around. We still have a few hours before we are fully in enemy territory.”

Then Aelin heard a siren of some sort and Rowan swore “I’ll call you as soon as I can again. I need to scramble. Love you.”

“Be safe.” She managed to add before he closed the phone call.

She collapsed again in bed then decided to call Lysandra and Elide and organise a day out the three of them shopping. Elide needed cheering up as well.

The next day Aelin, Elide and Lysandra had decided to have a girls’ afternoon to cheer up the two ladies who had their boys away. They met at the entrance of the shopping centre and Aelin went to hug Elide first of all “how are you doing?”

“Lorcan gave me a brief call yesterday telling me they were on the ship and on their way, then he had to go.”

Aelin sighed “today we don’t think about our far away boys.”

“And maybe you can buy some very sexy lingerie as a present for when Lorcan comes back.” Commented Lysandra and Elide blushed.

“What’s the point?” Asked Elide “you are taking it off anyway.”

Aelin laughed and took Elide’s hand “remember the dress I had at the navy party?”

Elide nodded “it was stunning.”

“I was not wearing anything underneath. It drove Rowan crazy.”

“I have done it a few times with Aedion and I agree with Aelin. The sex afterward has been amazing.”

“How do I learn all these things?”

“Stick with us and we will teach you.”

“Let’s go for some food,” said Aelin, “I haven’t eaten yet.”

“How will you survive now without your sexy chef in the house?” Asked Lysandra.

“Oh, I’ll just go back to my usual order in and ready meals.” Shrugged Aelin who had no intention of even trying to cook anything.

Lysandra took Aelin’s hand and walked toward a restaurant “come on Elide, let’s get this girl properly fed.”

The three women got into the restaurant and sat down and Aelin started perusing the menu eager for some decent food and not long after they placed their order. Lys was right, without Rowan she would be lost when it came to food. Rowan had properly spoiled her.

“How are the wedding preparations going?” Asked Aelin.

Lysandra and Aedion’s wedding was not far away and she was excited to see her best friend finally having her happy ending.

“We are getting there.”

“Do you have a dress yet?” Asked Elide all excited.

Lysandra took out her phone and showed them her dress.

“That is gorgeous. Aedion will not be able to keep his eyes off you during the ceremony.”

“That is the plan.” Lysandra smiled wickedly “but the biggest question is who is going to be next?”

“My money is on Aelin,” chimed Elide “Lor is not emotionally ready for such a step. You and the captain on the other hand…” her eyebrows flicked in amusement.

“She is right, and the two of you basically live together.”

“Yes and no.”

“What do you mean?” Lysandra was confused by the admission.

“We haven’t covered the subject yet. He still has his flat and some of his stuff there. Even after I recovered he never left and I never pushed because I like having him around.”

“Will you ask him to move in officially?”

Aelin sighed “maybe. When he comes back. I don’t know. Things are going well and I don’t want to mess it up.”

“Do you think he’ll say no?” Asked Lysandra. Brainstorming with her friend was always helpful and recently she hadn’t done it enough.

“I don’t think so. But living together is as far as we can go just now. For many, many reasons.”

“Is it because of Sam?”

“Only partially.” She was not going to tell her friends Rowan’s story. She had no right. So she remained vague hoping the two friends would get the hint and not ask anymore questions.

“Still, my money is on you two.” Added Lys “Elide is right, Lorcan does not seem to have yet the emotional ability to commit.”

“Hey, he kissed her in public. And yesterday at the base he seemed quite nice to her.”

“Quite?”

“I don’t know, I was concentrating on Rowan I just cast a brief glance at them.” Replied Aelin.

“He was super kind.” Added Elide taking biting on a breadstick.

Their food finally arrived and Aelin was the first to tuck in.

“Does the captain know about your crazy eating habits?” Asked Lysandra amused.

“Yes,” replied Aelin, enjoying her food “he calls me his bottomless pit. When we had our first date he joked that he might need a mortgage just to feed me.”

Elide laughed “Sam used to joke and say that he needed a second job just for feeding you.”

“I move a lot,” replied Aelin with a grin “I have a big appetite.”

“I think it must be a firefighter thing. Aedion is the same.” Lysandra grinned “and we burn a lot of calories.”

“Eeewwww, I did not need to know that. He is my cousin.”

“Oh come one, as if you and hot captain do not engage in illicit activities. The whole squad guessed that the other night you two had sex in the shower after the call at the club.”

“I was just giving him a special goodbye.” Her hand gently brushed the spot where she could feel his tags. She did a bit of research and she was happy she had a copy. Having the real one meant he was gone and she could not think about that.

“Are you okay?” Asked Lysandra worried at her sudden change of expression.

“Yeah.” She added flatly, then gave them a big smile. It was their day off she should not spoil it.

“So, are we taking Elide lingerie shopping?” Aelin teased trying to raise the spirits of her friend.

“Yes, it’s going to be fun.” Added Lysandra all excited.

“Girls… there is really no need. What I have is okay. Lorcan is not fussed.”

Aelin took a bite of her food “oh but we will make sure he is fussed and also that he knows how sexy you are so he does not decide to…. wander.”

“How do I keep him? I am nowhere near as interesting as the two of you. He might get bored of me very soon.”

Aelin stared at her friend and it broke her heart that her horrible past left her with no confidence at all. Elide was brilliant at her job and she was an intelligent woman and she was positive she would make quite a few heads turn.

“Don’t you say something like that ever again.” Lysandra preceded her. She was even more protective of Elide than her “I work with you everyday and I know how awesome you are and I am positive that if we go to a club you’d have your share of men looking at you.”

Aelin nodded.

They finished their meal and went back wandering around the shopping centre and visited a few shops. In one of them Aelin wandered in the male department and spotted a couple of lovely jumpers. One of them was a deep green and looked very cozy and she realised she had no idea of when it was Rowan’s birthday.

Silly question, you never told me your birthday. She sent the text and knew a reply might take a long time to come. She grabbed the jumper and tried to decide whether it was the right size for him.

“That is a lovely jumper.” Said Lysandra joining her at her side “already thinking about useful presents? You are like an old married couple.”

Aelin laughed.

“But I think this one is really nice and the man seems to look amazing in green.”

“I am just wondering about the size.”

Lysandra grabbed the tag “this one will fit Aedion so you should be fine.”

A moment later Elide rejoined them, her face beetroot red “I feel so silly.” And showed the girls her bag with her lingerie purchase.

“Hey, Ace and I are joking. You didn’t have to buy it if it makes uncomfortable.” But Elide surprised them “I will buy just one pair for now and I’ll see how it goes.”

Lysandra laughed “Aelin is already buying presents married couple style and you are still in the sexy lingerie stage. My girls have grow up so much.”

“And what stage are you and Aedion?” Asked Aelin with a grin.

“The one where I go to the grocery store and I phone him to ask him if he wants beef or chicken for dinner.”

The rest of the afternoon went swimmingly and she loved spending the day with Lys and Elide. They didn’t do that nearly enough.

Now she was back home and in the kitchen trying to accomplish her new mission. She had bought a cooking book for beginners and she had decided she was going to try and cook dinner. Lysandra had told her to start with something as simple as a stir fry. So she had bought a few more kitchen supplies and a pan Lys had told her was called a wok. She had mused why she could not use the pot she already had and Lys had rolled her eyes. Aelin had also bought the ingredients and now they were all lined up in front of her, the book open and a fire blanket and a small fire extinguisher on the counter just to be safe it was her cooking after all. She took a photo and sent it to Rowan then started working. When it got to cut the onions she cursed herself for deciding to cook.

Her phone rang and put it on speaker “hey,” her voice sounded strained and Rowan went in full fussing mode “are you okay?”

“Yeah, cutting those blasted onions.” She sniffled.

Over the line she heard Rowan roar with laughter “what are you making?” He asked as soon as he stopped laughing.

“A chicken stir fry. Lys said it’s easy to do.”

“Why are you putting onions in it?”

“Because I like them, mr I know how to cook.”

“I even bought a wok. Apparently I cannot use my pot.” She added as while throwing the ingredients in the pan.

“Seriously, when I get back we are going to have a massive overhaul of your kitchen.”

And Aelin’s heart raced in joy. It sounded like he had no intention of going back permanently to his flat. Maybe when he got back she should ask him the question after all.

“Aelin, it’s a miracle you have cutlery and two plates.” She could hear the humour in his voice.

“How are things going?”

“I just came off patrol. I am on my way to my quarters to get changed. I don’t have the most appealing scent just now.”

“Shower without me, so what? Two minutes max?”

“That’s about it. The water supply is not endless.”

He finally got to his quarters and collapsed on his bed after removing his boots then lay down and activated the camera.

“Hi sexy,” she did the same and placed the phone against the wall in front of her so he could see her as well.

“I don’t see any smoke. That’s a good start, considering it’s you.”

Aelin gave him the middle finger and then showed him her small fire extinguisher “I am prepared.” She took a bit of her food “for now it tastes edible, but not as good as yours.”

She saw him give her a smug smile and her instinct was to wipe it off his face with a kiss.

“The answer is July 16th, by the way.”

Aelin looked at him not understanding his statement.

“My birthday? You asked me earlier on.”

That she did “That’s two months away.”

“And when it’s yours?”

“May 3rd.”

“Aelin, that’s in two days.” He added sadly “and it sucks I can’t be there.”

“Lys has planned to drag me out with the girls of the firehouse. It’s also her bachelorette party. I have to go.”

“I almost forgot they were getting married. That came around quickly.”

Aelin laughed “not when you have been around them for years.” Aelin placed her food in a plate and moved to the sofa, taking her phone with her.

“When is the wedding?”

“This weekend. The weather is meant to be gorgeous which is a good thing since they are getting married outdoors.”

She heard him sigh “I really, really wish I could be there with you.”

She did not add that she had been thinking the same. So she just took a bite of her food.

“Edible?”

“Fuck no,”Aelin spit the morsel back in the plate “I must have done something wrong with the spices. It tastes horrible.” She grabbed her house phone.

“What are you doing?”

“Clearly ordering in. I am not eating this.”

Rowan rolled his eyes “you should practice more.”

“Why bother? I am clearly not cut for cooking. I am hopeless.”

“Do I need to tell you the amount of times my food sucked when I was still learning to cook decently? I got better with trial and error.”

Aelin huffed “fine I’ll try again on my next day off.” Then she put her house phone down after placing the order “I thought you were going for a shower?”

“Eager to get rid of me?”

“No, I just was hoping to have a peek at that nice arse of yours.”

Rowan laughed “If you behave.”

“Do you have the quarters all for yourself?”

Rowan nodded in the screen “the perks of rank. Gav is sharing with Vaughan. The twins are on their own.”

“Is that wise?”

“This carrier has a nice number of female officers. No one wants to go anywhere near that room.”

“Remember I am jealous, Whitethorn.”

“Some of them are middies on their snot cruise, so very young. The others… still not interested.”

“Who is a middie?”

“It’s short for midshipman or woman. They are the lowest ranking officers in the navy, just above the cadets. And a snot cruise is their first time out at sea on a proper mission.”

“Are your students middies as well?” She loved asking all those questions that might have sounded silly to him, but he never made her feel stupid for asking. He was always happy to answer.

“No, my students are called pilot officers. Then they become Flying officers, then flight lieutenants which is what the twins are, then Vaughan is our squadron leader, Gav is the Wing commander and then you have me.”

“Sounds so complicated.” She definitely needed to do more research to understand his job a bit better.

“It’s like you guys. Aedion looks after one rig as a lieutenant, you are the captain and are in charge of the operations of both at the same time and Dorian will be in charge of all the engines in case multiples houses are involved. Am I correct?”

Aelin nodded impressed.

“Same for us. Vaughan looks after our small squadron, Gav two or three squadrons, which is called a wing. I look after a unit composed of different wings and then Lorcan plays god in the CIC.”

“Now it makes more sense. So I could be your wing commander.”

“Having you fly with us would be insane. We would not concentrate on the enemy.”

Aelin laughed, then the buzzer of the door went off “just a sec, buzzard, food is here.” She went to get her food and plopped back on the sofa resuming her call with Rowan.

“Is your ship nice?”

“I served on her before. Not as swanky as the new one, but she is decent enough.” Rowan sat back up “hey, I really need to take that shower and then it’s chow time. If I miss it I don’t eat until tomorrow morning.”

“Go. Sorry for keeping you.”

“You did not such things. I have been looking forward to call you.”

“I love you.” She told him, sending back the tears that had started forming.

“I love you too, Fireheart.”

Aelin waved him goodbye and went back eating while tears had begun flowing down her cheeks. It had only been two days and she hoped it would get easier being so far apart.

***

The next morning she arrived at the station bright and early, got changed and went straight to Aedion “Are you ready?”

The man nodded “Peter is covering you until we get back from the police and I got Manon in charge of the second rig.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

They arrived at the police headquarters not long after and Chaol met them at the reception area “Hi guys,”

“Here’s my favourite cop.” Aelin went to hug Chaol.

“Just because I keep reporters away from you.”

She gave him a huge smile back.

“Come, detective Ytger is waiting for you.” They followed behind him in silence and stopped in front of a door and knocked.

A female voice told them to go in and once in the office Aelin recognised the same woman at one of the arson cases a few months back.

“Captain, Lieutenant, we meet again.” The three shook hands and the detective sat back down and invited both cousins to do the same.

The detective threw a thick file on the desk “you two have just made a very powerful enemy.”

“The man is a bastard.”

“Believe me, captain, when I tell you that Hamel has been a thorn in my side for a very long time.”

“And why is he still at large? Two people died and the man did not care.”

The woman pinched the bridge of her nose “he has very powerful lawyers and always gets away with murder. We have been working on him for a long time but whatever piece of proof we bring in is never enough to get him behind bars for good.” Aelin could sense the tiredness in her voice.

“Did you close his club as I asked?”

“We did, but he owns almost all the ones in Orynth. And so much more.”

“Can’t you arrest him for murder?” voiced Aedion.

“No, his lawyers showed us the papers of the latest inspections and the place was deemed to code. He blamed the company that did the inspections for lying to him.”

“Detective, I hope you are aware that is a bullshit.” Said Aedion, fury burning under his surface.

“I am well aware.” The woman added almost apologetically “the closure is temporary. It will not stick too long.”

Aelin almost swore “Have the other clubs been checked?”

“We did some undercover recon but we don’t have the full skillset to know what’s up to code.”

Aelin smiled wickedly “well, it’s a good thing that you have a firefighter whose birthday is very soon and was planning to go to a club.”

“You are not dragging Lys and the others in this.”

“Calm down. Hamel does not know them, they are safe. I will wear a disguise.”

“I don’t like the sound of this.” He protested again but he knew Aelin could be stubborn.

“I am coming too.”

“No,” said Aelin “One: Hamel remembers how you lifted him up and he will not forget such act. Two: it’s Lys bachelorette party as well. So, no.” she paused “you can take the guys to another one.”

“What happens if we find both clubs not up to specs?” Asked Aelin worried that it was going to be a lost cause.

“We can start by closing them and gather a bit more time to have more material against him. We have other leads. We just need something significant.”

They discussed with the detective which clubs to hit and they left.

Once in the car Aedion made his displeasure quite clear “I do not like this.”

“Neither do I, but the police has no idea what to look for.” Replied Aelin.

“We are not cops.”

“And they are not firefighters.”

After that they drove in silence all the way back to the station.

***

Two days had passed and Aelin’s birthday had arrived. She arrived at the station and laughed at the scene. One of the rigs was covered in balloons and a sign saying happy birthday, cap and the second rig was for Aedion and Lysandra and the front of the truck had a long white sheet over it that looked like a bridal veil and two massive papier mache rings attached to the front.

She laughed and joined Ansel and Manon who were doing some checks “did everyone see this?” She pointed at the engine and truck. The two women nodded.

“Then let’s clear it. I do not want to go on a call in that state.”

“Yes, captain.” Said the two women in unison.

The locker room was empty and she sat down on the bench and looked at her phone again. She was hoping for a text from Rowan or a call but nothing yet. She kept telling herself that he was busy and probably out flying. She removed his dog tags and hung them in the locker and stood and stared at the pictures she had hung up. It was some of the photos they had taken in Doranelle. With her finger she brushed a photo of him. He was standing and looking up to the sky. His eyes closed and a small smile painted on his face and his hair all tousled after she had messed it up. It was one of her favourite photos of him. “Be safe, please.” And she blew him a kiss.

Aelin got dressed and then reached the team who was having breakfast in the communal room.

“She is here.” Shouted Nox happily.

Luca grabbed her arm and pulled to the table where a cake was waiting for her.

“Chocolate hazelnut cake. Your favourite.” He cut a slice and offered it to her.

Aelin grabbed it eagerly “mmmmm”

“Get a room you two,” shouted Ress.

A moment later Manon came through with a man carrying a large box “he says this is for you, captain.”

“Thanks, Manon.”

Aelin grabbed the box from the courier and sat down on the sofa. It came from a shop in Orynth. Strange. She opened the box and when she peeked inside she saw a massive stuffed toy. Once she lifted it she realised it was a bird and she had a feeling she knew who it was from.

“A bird? Why a bird?” Asked Lysandra.

Aelin smiled, grabbed the stuffed toy and walked to her bunk to be alone when she noticed the letter inside.

Once alone she sat down on her bed and placed the bird at her side and read the letter

Happy birthday, fireheart.

I wish I could be there for you but I can’t and it hurts more than I thought possible.

If you are reading this, you have met your new friend. I could not find a buzzard but a toy shop in Orynth had a white-tailed hawk and since I have silver hair I thought it was the closest option. Do we look similar? He will keep you company while I can’t be there with you.

I will try and call you tomorrow if I get a free moment, but the guys and I have pulled alert crew duty for the day so no phone for me.

Have fun with the girls and leave the other guys alone especially if they are navy and army. Aelin chuckled at the joke

I miss you already.

I love you. Madly.

To whatever end.

Yours,

Buzzard.

By the time she had finished reading the letter she was in tears. She hugged the soft toy and for a moment she hoped to smell his scent of pine and snow. She went to her locker, grabbed the dog tags and put them around the bird’s neck “you look after them while I am on shift, but then I take them back.” After that she took a photo and sent it to Rowan “I think I will call him Rowan.”

It was later that night and Lysandra and Elide were at Aelin’s place to get ready for their fun night. Aelin though, was not in the mood. Rowan had eventually called her but the phone call was cut short when he had go and scramble. Soft toy Rowan was on her bed, his dog tags back on since she would not be wearing them with her dress.

Lysandra was going through her wardrobe looking for a dress for the night.

“So, the captain does have clothes that are not uniform,” said the woman going through his clothes but Aelin glared at her and Lys went back to Aelin’s side of the dresser.

“Did he phone you?”

“Yeah.” Said Aelin flatly while wearing her dress.

“Lorcan said they were having a couple of shitty days.”

Aelin ignored her friend or she would end up in tears and ruin her make up.

“Did he give you his dog tags?” Asked Lys noting them pending from the bird’s neck.

“No, he can’t. He made a copy. And I don’t want the original ones until he retires.”

“Why?” Asked Elide while she was busy fixing her hair.

“Because it means he is dead. They are used for identification.” Replied Lysandra flatly. She had learned that from Aedion.

“Can we please change subject?” Snapped Aelin.

Lysandra grabbed a green dress “what do you think?”

“It will go perfectly with your eyes.” Said Aelin wearing her blue dress.

“I thought you loved the captain.” Said Elide.

“Uh?”

“That dress?” Added Lys pointing at her attire “it makes you look as if you are open to being chased.”

“Too slutty?”

“Ansel will be proud of you.”

Aelin smiled “I do love the captain and I have no plans on taking anyone home. My only companion in bed tonight will be bird Rowan.” Then she wore a wig of red hair.

“Why the wig?”

Aelin and Aedion had decided not to tell anyone about their plan for the night, so she had to lie although it hurt lying to Lysandra “just for some fun.”

They arrived at the club half an hour later and Manon, Asterin and Ansel were already there and apparently already having fun.

“You made it” shouted the red-haired woman. “And who is the hot red-haired friend?”

“It’s me, Ansel.”

“Captain, you look hot.”

Aelin laughed “thank you.”

“We got some drinks already,” said Manon.

“Happy birthday, captain,” said Asterin raising her glass “and congratulation to Lys for bagging the meanest lieutenant in the TFD.”

Their glasses clinked and then Aelin spotted Chaol in the distance. What the heck was he doing at the club? She nodded at him and he gave her a small nod back. Everyone knew Chaol and if the girls spotted him it could raise some questions so she texted him with the pretence of being the overbearing girlfriend checking on her man.

The girls went out dancing and she stood behind saying she was not in the mood when she was actually trying to check out the place. She was about to join Chaol in his hideout when a guy stopped at her side and blocked her way “aren’t you a stunning creature?” He said and Aelin cringed. She really hated clubs and the pigs that came with them.

“Of course I am.”

She felt his arm sneak around her waist and his body move closer to hers and she closed her eyes at the fact that those arms were not Rowan’s.

“What if I buy you a few drink and have some fun you and I?”

“You couldn’t handle me.” She said to him in a whisper.

“I love a good challenge. My flat is not far from here.” And his hand slithered up on her back.

Aelin scoffed “I’d never have sex with you even if we were the last two humans left in the world.”

She made to walk away but he grabbed her arm. She almost punched him but in that instant she felt someone hugging her from behind “it’s me, follow my lead.” He whispered in her ear and she noticed it was Chaol.

“Thank you for finding my girlfriend. I went to the gents and I lost her.”

“Sorry darling,” said Aelin caressing Chaol’s face.

The stranger walked away annoyed.

“Thank you.”

“You were holding your own anyway.” He commented.

“I was about to punch him and cause a scene and mess up the mission.” She whispered then grabbed his hand and pulled him to a quiet booth at the back of the club

“What are you doing here?”

“Detective Ytger sent me here as back up. Hamel’s minions know all of the detectives but not us beat cops.”

“How do you want to proceed?” She asked him.

“You are the firefighter, I am just here to make sure you get out okay.”

“Ok, I need to walk around. Just keep an eye on me.” Chaol nodded and Aelin walked away.

She went back to the bar area and smiled when Elide walked toward her “Ace!! Come on it’s your birthday, you need to come and have fun.” She also had a job to do but felt bad at abandoning her friends. So she joined them again and Lys grabbed her for some dancing.

“How how many hearts did you break?”

“Just the one but he was a pig.”

“Did you tell him you have a super hot captain waiting for you?”

Aelin shrugged and turned to Elide.

“How many drinks did Ansel give you?”

Elide lifted three fingers in front of her face “two.”

Aelin laughed “no more alcohol for you.”

“Buuut I am sad and I miss Lorcan.” Aelin hugged her friend knowing full well how she felt.

“Still, no more alcohol, you just can’t hold it.”

She walked Elide to Manon “can you keep an eye on her please? And just water please. Elide has reached her alcohol quota for the evening.”

“Of course.”

Aelin smiled at the white-haired woman. She was very introverted and of a very few words but she did not care about that since she was good at her job. She was the complete opposite of Ansel.

Speaking of the woman…”where did Ansel go?”

“Last time I have seen her she was dancing with a brunette.” Aelin dragged a hand on her face “I am going to the ladies. Just behave, okay?”

She used the excuse to slip away and walk around as she was supposed to do. She wanted to try and take some photo as proof but covert operations were not her forte.

“You are back,” whispered Chaol at her back.

“I’ll pretend to be drunk and lost.”

“Be careful, this is making me nervous.”

She nodded and walked away from him. Part of her was glad she had not mentioned this to Rowan, he would have gone in full protective mode.

She kept pretending she was drunk and dumb and ended up in the kitchen “sorry,” she slurred, leaning against the doorframe “are these the loos?”

“No miss,” said one of the staff “they are down there and on your right.” She gave the man a goofy smile and a wet kiss on the cheek “thank you, sweet man.” The hug had given her the time to have a very quick look in the kitchen and note there was no safety equipment. That was enough for her to shut down that club as well. How could they run a kitchen that way? She really had to take down the bastard. She hid in the shadows of the club and and checked the fire doors without activating them and found them of shoddy quality. She was fuming. She had a good look at the club and realised even the numbers of people allowed in was probably over the limit. Those doors were for 60 people, she could only see three on ground level, which meant a limit of 180 people. There were probably over three hundred, all crammed and spread on two levels. It was a firefighter nightmare. She ran back to Chaol “go home. I have seen enough. Tell the detective this place needs to be shut down as well.”

“I’ll phone her as soon as I am out. She was waiting for news anyway.”

“Go, and say hi to Yrene.”

Chaol left and she ran back to her friends nervous that she was placing them in danger. She wanted to go but the idea of leaving all those people behind made her nervous. She texted Aedion and rage surged back when he told her that their club was the same.

The girls took her dancing in the middle of the dance floor and danced away ignoring a couple of guys basically dancing on her. She hated clubs so much and the music was horrible. She bit down her annoyance and went to hug Lysandra “how does it feel to be almost married?”

“Weird.” She looked at Aelin “are you having fun?”

“You know I don’t like clubs but I came for you, it’s your night after all.”

“It’s your birthday too.”

Aelin shook her head “I get one every year, you better marry my cousin and stick to him.”

“And you stick to the captain. I want to come to your wedding.”

Aelin laughed “we’ll see…” then she turned and saw Elide leaning against the counter half asleep “what if we take the party to my place? I am sick of this place.”

“Please,” said Manon in a hopeful tone. She hated clubs as well “we can get alcohol on the way home. If I hear another man asking me why my hair is white I am going to start snapping necks.”

“Hey Manon, no need to snap necks,” then Aelin looked around for Ansel.

“I’ll get her,”said Asterin when she noticed the woman in the distance.

The woman came back with Ansel in tow and moved closer to Aelin “the fire exits are not enough and one is blocked.” She whispered.

“I know, I am going to call Peter and explain the situation to him.” She took her phone out “take the others to the cars. I’ll be there in a moment.”

Aelin watched Asterin walking the group to safety then hid in dark a corner and phoned Peter explaining that they had to pretend they had an anonymous call and come and pay a visit to the place and shut it down. The man agreed after she explained him the situation in terms of safety. She was playing dirty but could not care less. People’s lives were at stake. Hamel could just go and impale himself for all she cared.

Quickly she left the building and she went to her car joining Lys and Elide. The remaining women were in Manon’s car.

They stopped for booze on the way and finally got back home. Aelin took Elide piggyback style as the woman had fallen asleep. Once in the flat she placed Elide in the spare bedroom and covered her with a blanket then went back to the rest of the group camped in her living room. A text from Peter told her that the club had been safely evacuated and closed. Apparently he had found even more infractions that she had not the time to spot.

“Ok, ladies back to the party.” Aelin grabbed a mixed selection of glasses and mugs for the beer.

Ansel stood and went to use the bathroom and came back a few minutes later “why do you have guy’s stuff on the bathroom shelf? Do you live with the silver fox?”

Aelin sighed “Rowan has been living here since I was discharged from the hospital.”

“That was a while ago.”

“I know.” Aelin sighed.

“Yes!” Shouted Ansel pulling Aelin toward her “our captain is shacking up. I am so proud of you.”

After a few drinks, Ansel would become very friendly with anyone. It was a good thing they had left the club.

In that instant she got a text from Aedion saying that he had activated the fire alarm in their club and evacuated the whole place after he had spotted a shit ton of infractions. Well, that was probably another club down. Definitely not what they had agreed with the detective but they had to do something.

“Ok, since this is a bachelorette party as well, we can have a bit of spiciness.” Said Asterin while drinking her beer “unusual place where you had sex. We need to give Lys some ideas.”

“Do we?” Joked Aelin “Lys would definitely teach us something.” Then everyone looked at Ansel “after her of course.”

“I once hooked up with civilian pilot and we did it in his cockpit before he got to fly the plane”

“Where you flying as well?” Asked Lysandra curious.

Ansel nodded “it’s a long story.”

“Aelin, you are up. I bet the captain is wild.” Lysandra’s eyebrows lifted suggestively.

“He is pretty amazing but the strangest places have been a beach, the sea, behind a waterfall, a pool at the foot of two different waterfalls and almost on a military ship.”

“Almost?” Asked Manon curious.

“I’ll show you the dress.”

Aelin went to get her black dress and got back a moment later “and he knew I had nothing underneath.”

The group of women cheered loudly “that must have driven him insane.” Joked Asterin.

“That’s why the almost. We would have been in a lot of trouble if we got caught.”

“I have nothing left to teach you.”Ansel was sprawled on a chair and lifted her beer in acknowledgment.

“Lys?”

The woman blushed savagely “in a car wash. Aedion and I stayed in the car while it was getting washed and… well.. it was quick but fun.”

“Definitely nothing to teach you,” Aelin clinked her bottle with her friend.

“Asterin?”

“My previous firehouse, with one of my colleagues on top of a rig on a night shift.”

Manon gave a light chuckle “was it when you were at the Regional 2?”

Asterin nodded “he was some hot firefighter. We are still friends. We did it once and then it felt so weird and never happened again.” She explained.

Aelin sighed “The night of the mayor’s party, Thomas and I hooked up. We ended up at my place. We did it, realised it was rebound sex and finished the night with tv and junk food.” Thinking about him still pained her.

“No friggin way. More than the kiss?” Asked Lysandra shocked.

Aelin nodded “after you saw us kissing I left, he found me, we went back to my place.”

Aelin looked around and noticed that no one wanted to make too many comments, his death was still too fresh for everyone and he had been Manon’s and Asterin’s captain.

“Does Rowan know?”

“I told him and he is fine. We were nothing at the time and I was mad at him.”

In that instant Elide joined the group and Aelin stood and went to her “hey, how are you feeling?”

“My head hurts.” Replied the woman leaning against Aelin.

“I should take her home. We are working tomorrow we should all go home.”

“Lys is right,” added Asterin “another 24hrs shift ahead, we need some sleep.”

Manon and Asterin offered to take Ansel home and Aelin remained with Lys and a sleepy Elide.

“I am sorry the evening sucked.”

“Hey,” Lysandra placed her hands on Aelin’s shoulders “it didn’t, and to be honest we were all quite tired. All it matters is to marry that annoying cousin of yours.”

“Take Elide home, she is about to go to sleep again.”

Once Aelin was alone she finally shed the dress and opened one of Rowan’s drawers and grabbed a t-shirt. They were usually far too big for her but she loved them as pyjama. She went to the bathroom, got ready and then finally got in bed with bird Rowan and squeezed close to his pillow to inhale his scent.

She grabbed her phone and found a text from Rowan

I hope you had a nice evening. I wish I had been there with you because it’s bad out here. I hope bird me is keeping you company. Have a nice night, Fireheart. Love you.

Aelin’s heart sank at the anguish in his voice. She tried to call him but had no answer.

I love you, come back to me, was all she managed.

She squeezed bird Rowan and tried very hard to fall asleep.

TAGS:

@rowaelinismyotp

@jlinez

@swankii-art-teacher

@courtofjurdan

@whimsicallyreading

@tillyrubes10

@surielandiareendgame

@aelin-bitch-queen

@bruiseonthefaceofhumanity

#rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #rowan x aelin #aelin galathynius #Lysandra #elide lochan #Throne of Glass series #fanfic

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chocolatecakecas · 3 years

Text

Honesty: Season 13 Destiel Fic Part 8

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 9 Part 10

or read on ao3

There's a scream.

Dean bolts from his room, feet pounding as he goes. He sees another figure in the dim glow of the hall.

Their eyes meet, hesitating for a moment, before entering the room and stopping in front of the crib.

Dean' vision fills with a tiny body, writhing uncomfortably, as wails force their way from his throat.

Fear drops, hard, in the pit of Dean's stomach.

Without a moments hesitation, he's bouncing Jack in his arms, attempting to sooth him.

His eyes dart to the clock on the wall. 4:56am. That can't be right, Jack has only been having the one bottle at 2:30 am, now. He has been for weeks. And even, then he's never-

(read the rest under the cut)

Jack's wails echo off the walls.

Dean finds Cas' eyes in the dark.

He's staring at Jack in shock, and hurriedly glances up at Dean, eyes swimming with terror and uncertainty.

Right. Even though he's been back for months, Cas has never had to raise a baby before, and he's gotten used to the routine with no unexpected surprises. Dean's terrified, but he can't image what Cas is feeling.

So Dean moves. Check the obvious first.

He crosses to the changing table, quickly disposing of Jack's diaper. Cas follows.

Dean sighs when it does nothing to quiet the kid's screams.

It wasn't the diaper, he definitely isn't hungry.

Was it a nightmar-wait can babies even get nightmar-

Focus Winchester. What could it b-of course, why didn't he think of this first?

It's because you're shit at this, his mind easily supplies.

A cold feeling washes over him.

God, could he be more stu-

"Dean"? Cas calls desperately, ripping him from his thoughts.

Dean quickly recovers, and places his hand on Jack's forehead.

He's warm, but is he actually warmer than usual?

Dean tries to get his brain to recall how Jack's normal body temperature feels, but he's drawing a complete blank.

Fuck

Dean feels the fear twist again as it crawls its way up his throat.

It washes over him in waves, but he can't do anything to stop it.

He has no idea what to do.

He's standing with a child wailing against his chest, a child who's life depends on Dean's ability to know what to do. And Cas is looking at him, terrified, waiting on Dean for instruction.

Dean suddenly can't control his breathing.

He's powerless.

Tears threaten to spill from his eyes and h-

"-Dean? Was his forehead warm? Did he have a fever"? Cas asks anxiously as he braces a hand on Dean's shoulder, searching his face for answers.

The warmth of Cas' palm pulls him back to reality.

Cas always knows what he nee-no now's not the time.

Dean swallows.

"No-well I mean I don't think he feels warmer than normal-at least as far as I can tell? But there's a thermom-"

"-oh wait, there's no there's no need-here let me" Cas trails off, as if he surprised himself and carefully takes Jack from Dean's arms.

He watches as he softly places his hand on Jack's forehead.

Then it hits him

Angel. Duh

He can read Jack's actual temperature with his palm, or figure out what's wrong with the touch of his fingers.

And they're both standing here like idiots, paralyzed by fear, when Cas is a friggin angel.

But in his defense, the kid has got him out of his scared out of his mind.

Dean trails his gaze up to Cas' face, watching his eyes closed in concentration, waiting for his mojo to do it's thing.

Sometimes, Dean forgets what Cas really is. Of course he knows that he's an angel, but like-he's Cas.

Yes, he's a badass, who's millions of years old, and could kill someone with the tap of his finger, Dean's well aware.

But when he's standing in front of you in a rumpled, purple sweater, a pair of sweatpants and his dorky bee pun socks, of all things, it's kinda hard not to forget.

Cas is just so human now. This change has been slowly happening over the years, but ever since he got back it's like the Cas he first stabbed in that barn, doesn't exist anymore.

Which isn't a bad thing at all, it just makes everything a little more confusing.

Which is why he's kinda been avoiding him ever sin-

What the hell is he doing? He needs to focus on Jack, what if h-

"His temperature is 101.1 I've read that babies his age can have a resting temperature as high as 100.3, but since he's only half human?" Cas' voice startles him out of his thoughts.

Jack is still wailing in his arms, as Cas bounces him from side to side. He's looking at Dean expectantly, waiting for his input. Dean can still see the worry clear on his features.

Taking a deep breath, he regains some control of his breathing.

Just a little fever. This, Dean can handle.

"Yeah that's a little high. We should change him into something lighter, see if that cools him down a bit? Then if not we can give him some baby Motrin, and go from there?” Dean suggests.

Then they're both moving. Cas placing Jack on the changing table, while Dean grabs some lighter pjs from the dresser.

Dean hovers as Cas, expertly switches out Jack clothes. He murmurs to Jack in his signature low, rumbling tone, and manages to get to calm him a bit.

Cas is getting good at this. It's like it's second nature to him now. He really has become an amazing Dad. In fact, he's so damn good with Jack, it makes Dean's stomach flip every time Cas pulls a laugh from him or manages to sing him back to sleep.

He watches as Cas slowly rocks Jack in his arms, humming under his breath.

And Dean is sent spiraling as soon as he recognizes the tune.

Lullabye.

By Billy Joel.

And yeah of course he's heard Cas sing this to Jack hundreds of times before, he does this every night, but Dean hasn't been around to hear it since that morning. Before he listened.

The morning they haven't spoken about at all. Cas never asked, and Dean-well Dean didn't exactly bring it up.

But now he's singing Billy fucking Joel, right in front of him.

And if Dean thought he was freaking out before, it's nothing compared to the crisis he's currently having.

It's not like he's actively been avoiding the subject, he jus--

"Oh" Cas gasps, pausing Dean's spiral.

His eyes instantly find their way back to Cas.

Cas has stopped in his tracks, peering down at Jack's now sniffling face.

Then he presses a soft kiss to his forehead, smiling to himself as he pulls away.

Jack's sniffling stops as Cas looks back at Dean with a soft smile.

"I don't know why I didn't do it sooner. I could have just taken away his fever with my grace, but I guess fear got the better of me".

Mojo, of course. Why the hell didn't either of them think of healing Jack, especially since they already both had the "duh angel" moment 10 minutes ago.

God this kids really gonna be the death of them, turing them into complete idiots only 8 months in.

"You and me both pal" Dean manages to respond with a strained laugh.

As soon as they’re sure Jack is asleep, they stand for a moment, hovering over the crib.

Dean pretends not to notice the way his heart races when Cas' arm brushes against his.

"Well looks like we can write about the kid's first fever in the baby book now, and about how it turned us into a couple of morons" Dean whispers in an attempt at a joke.

Beside him Cas hums in agreement with a soft chuckle, and they both head out of Jack's room.

Dean needs some water, or better yet, some coffee. He's definitely not sleeping after the heart attack he just had.

As he makes his way to the kitchen, he notices Cas is following.

Something drops low in the pit of Dean's stomach.

Again, it's not like he has been completely avoiding Cas since that morning. They still hang out during the day, take care of Jack together, talk during the odd hours of the night, and they even have movie nights on Thursdays.

But it's different now. It's quieter, and there's an awkwardness to it that they both refuse to address.

It's like there's always something looming over them, just waiting to crush them.

And it's not like Dean doesn't want to talk about it, of course he does, but he just can't, he's not ready.

As he starts up the coffee maker, Cas drops into his usual seat, picking up his book where he left off. His head is resting in the palm of his hand, as he lazily flips through the pages, foot bouncing absentmindedly.

Looking just so completely human.

Which is the other issue.

Cas has always been a wildcard when it comes to emotions, and it's not like they ever sat down and had a conversation about what he does and doesn't feel.

So Dean always just assumed he experienced emotions, but like, subdued. Like Cas knew what he was feeling, he could name the feeling, but it didn't emotionally affect or sway him the way it did with humans.

And now Dean has no idea what to think, because he's sitting in the kitchen looking like he's been a functioning human being his entire life, and not a celestial warrior of God.

Which just makes everything harder, he just doesn't know what to do.

Dean pours his cup with a trembling hand, then with a heavy sigh, he grips the counter tightly, grounding himself.

Because Dean heard that mixtape.

He listened to it twice that morning, and he's lost count of how many times since.

He's memorized the songs, he's analyzed every lyric. It's all he's thought about every single day for two weeks.

And he knows what he heard.

His breathing quickens as anxiety washes over him, and he once again does nothing to stop it.

Which means that Cas understood the intention behind giving a mixtape.

Which means he understood the meaning behind the tape Dean had given him over a year ago.

He knows that Cas knows. He knows that's why Cas gave him one in return.

And logically, Dean knows he's right about all of this, but there's a part of him that still doesn't believe it's true.

Part of him still thinks he's just overthinking it. That Cas just gave it to him as a nice gesture and the songs had no deeper meaning behind them.

Because Dean can't let himself want Cas, and he can't hope that Cas might want him.

He knows he isn't worthy of him, that Cas deserves so much better. That he would just be a disappointment, and he'd screw everything up.

Because why would Cas ever want, a fuck up like hi-

"-Dean, are you alright" Cas' voice rips through his thoughts.

Dean swallows and dares a glance up.

He's met with wild hair, that stupid head tilt, and wide blue eyes, swimming with concern.

Cas

Dean's stomach flips and suddenly his mouth is moving before he can stop it.

"Cas I've gotta talk to you"

Cas tenses, hands clenching into fists, as the concern on his features is replaced with fear.

Great, one second in he's already fucked up.

Dean peers down as if his socked feet are the most interesting thing in the world, while trying to tame his increasing anxiety.

He takes a shuttering breath.

"I-I listened to the tape...." he trails off, mouth suddenly dry. He sneaks a glance up, to gage Cas' reaction.

And Cas goes white as a sheet, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

"Ye-yeah, I uh, liked it" Dean lamely tacks on, mentally cursing himself ("I liked it", seriously Winchester? That's what you went with?)

He watches as Cas' face goes through twelve different emotions, until landing on one Dean can't decipher.

"Oh.....well I'm glad you enjoyed it" Cas chokes out.

And in that moment, Dean doesn't know what comes over him. Maybe it's the way Cas looked at him, maybe it's the lingering adrenaline from Jack's fever scare, or maybe it's his complete lack of sleep.

But suddenly he's pacing around the kitchen, unable to shut up

"Yeah- I uh, well I actually listened to it a couple time-well more than a couple. I stopped keeping track after twenty"

He braves another glance at Cas who's frozen in fear at the table, so Dean continues before he loses his nerve. Hands flying, pointedly facing away from Cas.

"And I couldn't help but um, notice that a lot of the songs had a common theme? And I just never thou-"

"-Dean" Cas tries to interject, but Dean keeps going.

"-when I-when I gave you that mixtape last year, I never thought that you understo-and now you just gave me one, with all those songs and I can't help but think that you-that you might-that those songs might-I think you chose them for a reason-a specific reaso-"

"-Dean"

"-the same reason I di-and if I'm wrong then-fuck man, you can smite me right here, right now if I'm wrong-which I probably am. I'm probably just overthinking this whole thing and making myself look like an idiot. I'm probably just making a big deal out of nothing, like I alwa- "

"Dean, you're right"

"-always do, like I'm doing right now actually, acting like a dumba-"

Dean stalls, words catching in his throat.

Wait did Cas jus-no he must have heard him wr-

"Dean, you're right" Cas repeats behind him, voice trembling.

Dean's back is to him, as he grips the cool metal of the kitchen island again, refusing to turn around.

His heart races when he hears the scrape of a chair behind him.

"You're right, about wh-about why I made that tape, with those songs. I chos-I chose them for a reason" Cas continues, voice wavering.

Dean's thoughts are buzzing around his skull, he can't fully process what Cas' words.

Because Dean thinks he knows what he's trying to say.

But he can't possibly mean t-

"-I'm sorry, I-I have no idea what I was thinking. It was insane to give you that, when I know I can't-and now I've gone and ruined everything-"

Wait, he can't mean that. Dean just heard him wrong he can't hav-

But something, hope, he recognizes, pulls deep within him, and he grips the counter tighter. Maybe he did hear him right, may-.

No, Dean has to be sure first. He has to know for sure.

So Dean finds his voice.

"Cas, I-I think I know what you're trying to say bu-but I need you to say it. I need to be sure that I understand you, because I don't think I can handl-I just......." Dean trails off, voice breaking.

They stand in silence, and Dean's pretty sure Cas can hear his heart pounding against his chest.

His stomach drops, ice rushing through his veins.

Dean was wrong.

God of course he was wrong, and now Cas hates him. He's managed to fuck up the only friendship he's ever had, all because he can't just store his crap.

But no he has to be selfish and want Cas, and fuck u-

"I love you"

Dean's brain short circuits.

No-he can't have. No Dean heard that wrong, he's just tired an-

"-I do and, again I'm sorry, I truly didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, but I love you Dean and I can't help it-"

Oh.

And without thinking, Dean moves.

"-And I know this ruins everything especially since I know you can't- that you don't-but I'm so-"

Dean grips Cas around the waist, as he smashes their lips together, effectively cutting Cas off.

Their teeth clank and their noses bump, but Dean doesn't care.

CasCasCasCasCasCasCasCas, is all his mind can supply.

Dean reluctantly pulls away, hands craddeling Cas's face, who's hands have somehow found their way around Dean's waist.

Dean stares down at him, unable to look away.

His hair is sticking up in every direction, blue eyes blown wide brimming with unspilled tears, lips parted in shock.

Cas.

"-Dean, what, why did yo..." Cas trails off, voice breaking.

And then it hits him.

Dean just kissed Cas. Dean just kissed his best friend because he said he loved him.

Cas said that he loved him. Cas loves Dean.

And Dean, loves him too.

God, he loves Cas.

"Because I do too- "Dean starts, voice breaking.

He looks into Cas' eyes, seeing the small sliver of hope behind them, and takes a shuttering breath.

"I love you. Damnit Cas, I've loved you for so long and I-"

"Me too Dean, I have for years, but I never dreamed that you- that you’d ever, return that feeling an-" Cas stops with a sob.

Dean shushes him, gently wiping some of Cas' tears away with his thumb.

He feels like he's floating.

They’re really standing in the kitchen with Cas' hands tightly gripping the back of his shirt.

A watery laugh rips past Dean's throat.

"God what a couple of dumbasses, huh? Could have done this years ago, all that wasted time" Dean says in disbelief.

"Yes, we have been a pair of dumbasses, for years it would seem. But that's okay, because we can have it now, right?” Cas asks, uncertainty clear in his voice.

Cas still doesn’t believe this is really happening, and Dean can’t say he blames him.

“Of course we can Cas” Dean responds with complete certainty, looking into his eyes.

He needs Cas to know that this is what Dean wants, he needs him to understand that it’s all Dean has wanted, for years. He is not going to screw this up.

And it must have worked because Cas is practically glowing. There's tear tracks on his cheeks, but his eyes are bright and shining with pure joy, a gummy smile on his lips.

God, I love him, I really love him, Dean thinks to himself.

Of course there's a long conversation to be had, and even longer conversations to come, because nothing is ever really this simple.

But Dean can't bring himself to care, because all of his focus is on the man in front of him. The man he's loved in silence for years. The man who loves him back.

Because for the first time in his life, Dean is going to let himself want. And what he wants, is Cas.

"Well....we better get started then" Cas quips with a smile, all traces of uncertainty gone (which definitely doesn't make Dean's stomach flip).

And with that, Cas' hands make their way to his neck, as he pulls him into another kiss.

And by God, it's the best damn kiss of Dean's life.

Because it feels like home, like this is where Dean’s meant to be.

So he easily melts into Cas' touch letting the love and warmth wash over him, soaking in every bit of Cas he can get.

And if in the morning, Sam finds them with their hands clasped across the kitchen table, as they take turns feeding Jack spoonfuls of applesauce.

Well, that's none of his business.

Tag list:

@wormstacheangel @smiledean @shelikestv @chaoticdean @midnightwings-deancas @jellydeans @sunshine-jack @archervale @wikiangela @organicpurplepants

@bbcalamity @tkdwolf2012 @doemons-blog @rolling-stoned-girl @skylerkernaghan @shadowywerewolfqueen @the-cookie-navy @martymar1963 @thelahatiel @thefantasyfiend @castielle-deanna @aestheticflyer26

@multi-fandom-imagine @x-mypeopleskillsarerusty-x @wellofwoes @becky-srs @multi-fandom-dark-lord @perfectkoaladream @castiel-for-lunch @it--hurts--to--become @bowtiesandneckerchiefs @dakiaty @feraldean @teamfreebees @keshetcas @hrh-princess-bea

(as always please let me know if you would like to be added or removed!💛)

#if it was unclear the mixtape fic WAS a part of this fic!!! and it is important to this part!!!#i literally dont know where this came from like i did not plan on doing this at all and yet...#✨but healing grace forehead kiss✨#look i let them be happy for once!!!(i mean they suffered in the beginning but like still happy!)#so this turned out extremely long i have no idea what happened i hope it makes sense #i started baby jack truthing and then it morphed into this and i just-well i hope you like it #destiel fic #baby!jack #dean winchester #castiel #jack kline #bec writes #baby jack truthing #destiel #casdean #deancas #season 13 #dadstiel #dad!dean

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allthelonelynightsinyourlife · 3 years

Text

is this happiness?

pairing: levi ackerman x reader

tw: emotional manipulation, mention of sex and alcohol, borderline fucked up

genre: kinda angst?, non-canonverse, out of character/exaggerated Levi

prompt: Levi gets off and craves manipulating and breaking women, and it’s finally your turn to go.

word count: 1,271

MASTERLIST

Pain. He enjoyed inflicting it, specifically on women, emotionally, of course, Levi would never get physical with someone of the opposite sex. Though with men, it was another story, he adored to poke and prod at the most macho men in the bars he frequented, he coveted the satisfaction of thoroughly beating their asses. The man relished his little games; Levi’d pretend to be wholly in love and then tear himself away harshly once his prey had fallen into his trap. He savoured how he could see their hearts break when he said it was over, the quiver of their lips, the furrow of their temples, the way the fear and confusion cemented itself on their features. Levi didn’t quite know when or why he’d become this sadistic freak, but he was having fun, so he continued.

You were girl number 14? 15? He’d lost count at this point. The two of you had been going steady for a few months, and he had taken a liking to your cheeky little smile and those glimmering eyes. Those were his only reasons for staying with you, that and the sex. God you were a fucking animal, the way you gave him that dark, mysterious, lustful look as you went down on him. The raven-haired would never admit it, but you were a goddamn sex goddess or demon for that matter. But, just like all his other playthings, it was time for you to part, after all, he had another lady to see right after this so no time to spare, he had to get on with his duties.

▬▬▬▬▬

Levi had done this so frequently he didn’t even need to rehearse what to say, all he required was a few shots, and he would be good to go. He had called you earlier in the evening, feigning a distant voice to prematurely instil fear in you, asking if he could come over in a few hours. In your most nonchalant tone, you gracefully accepted, Levi could tell you were pretending. When the hour finally came, he unlocked the door of your flat with your spare key that you’d given him and walked into the dining room. You sat on a stool by the island of your kitchen, swirling a glass of red wine in your hand, the mulberry-coloured fluid coating the sides of the glass. When you overheard the door closing, you psychologically prepared for the imminent doom, you knew things would go astray at some point, they always did.

The man sat across from you, greeting you with a chaste peck to your smooth cheek, you looked at him, forbidding yourself from showing even a shred of emotion. He had that damn smirk on his face, it wasn’t a big one, so discreet it was like a deadly weapon. Levi had this magnetic stoic yet charming personality that enthralled all around him. You tried to soothe your hammering heart, telling yourself it was nothing, and that maybe, just maybe, you were overreacting. Could this really be happening? After all these months, were they meaningless to him? All those restless nights where you entrusted him with your most nebulous secrets? Those late mornings when you awoke deliciously weak from all the ferocious love-making, all those stupid fucking walks at dawn. You were happy, and you assumed he was too, so why? Why now, when you finally were at peace with the world, why-

Your sombre thoughts were interrupted by him calling out your name.

“Listen, we need to talk, I’ve been thinking these past few weeks, quite a lot actually, and I’ve realised something,”, your watchful eye caught his, egging him to go on, he paused before resuming, “I’m bored, bored of you, bored of this life, I want out”. Your eyes widened, and you could have vowed you felt a blow in your heart, and just as soon as it had appeared, you recovered your calm. No, he would not be allowed to see you in pain, you would never give him the satisfaction. You left him continue his rant, “It’s just not fun anymore, it’s not the same, you’re always whining like a damn crybaby about something,”, this time you felt the stab in your chest. “You need to grow up and be an adult, always getting upset over the most childish things, just like the brat you are. I’m through with coddling you.” he tsked. There was no way this was the man you’d fallen for, the one who beamed softly when you’d make him his favourite tea, who whispered sweet nothings into your ear to help you sleep, who’d seen every inch of your body and proclaimed that ‘no Renaissance artist could ever replicate such fine art’. There was just no way.

Levi continued his tyrant, each word slashing at your very being, shredding you apart like a pack of wild beasts. You feverishly fought the tears that threatened to seep out of your sunken orbs and flood the whole fucking flat. To hell with it, to hell with all of this bullshit, you’d wasted months on this fucking waste of a man, and yet your heart still pined for him, longed for him, fought for him.

“And you want to know something else? I never seriously loved you, I did all of this, for one thing, sex. It’s all you’re good for. This is who I am, and you’re going to suffer through this betrayal of mine.”, the final blow, the fragile mirror of your heart exploded into a thousand tiny fragments.

The worst part was that he said all of this with an oh-so-innocent smirk on his perfectly angular face. Levi was feeding off the grief he’d caused you, he cherished the power he’d acquired, his mercilessness and true nature were finally coming to the surface. So why didn’t the man get that rush when he saw your soul leave your body or when he saw your pupils dilate or when those gorgeous doe eyes became glossy with tears. The raven-head had gotten the reaction he craved for, so why was it different this time? What was that slight pang in his heart when he saw how he’d obliterated your mental state? He craved it night and day, the power-drive he got off on when women begged for him to stay or did the opposite and slapped him, and he couldn’t seem to understand why he felt different about your reaction. Nevertheless, it was too late, Levi had well over crossed the line, and now he awaited your response, never letting his vicious smile leave his portrait.

You took a few seconds to recollect your shattered peace of mind, searching for the right words to say, “Are you finished now?”, you queried, and he simply nodded in response. “All right, well, it was good to see you, get home safely,” you smiled cheerfully, you were going to keep your word, he would not earn this pleasure. Levi stared at you with a mixture of awe and shock, nothing too mind-blowing but, different. He got up and just as he collected his things, he turned back to you, his expression beckoning you as if to say, ‘that’s all you’ve got to say?’. You read his emotions and simply nodded, never letting the smile falter, that was until the door closed. Then you finally released your turmoil. All the memories you cherished were gone with him, through that door, off to pump some random chick.Your body wracked with tears as you sobbed on the countertop, never again would you be deceived by a man, and you were sure of it.

▬▬▬▬▬

AN: hey guys, here’s my first fanfic on this blog, nothing special just short, twisted, emotional manipulation. have a good day :)

#levi x reader #levi angst #levi x reader angst #emotional manipulation #aot x reader #aot #attack on titan #levi ackerman #levixreader #levi ackerman scenario #captain levi #shingeki no kyojin #leviackermanxreader #levi ackerman x reader

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expensiveglasses · 3 years

Text

Charming Finale

Summary: Prince Jungkook was as infuriating as he was beautiful. In line to one day be king, he requested your guidance in the ways of his people. In turn he will make you laugh, give your family fine gifts, and become an invaluable friend. Unfortunately, he will also make you fall in love with him. But the most unfortunate thing of all was his betrothal…to Snow White

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Fantasy, Angst, Snow white/au

Rating: NC-17

Word Count: 7659

Warnings: The first few pages of this chapter deal with the fall out of OC’s decision, so there’s confusion, hurt, anger, etc. This story ends happily, but the first part of the chapter is a little more emotionally painful so be aware. . .

It’s not true what they say about death. The black doesn’t remain. You were surrounded by swirling shades of violet, fuchsia, and azure. Lights bursting behind the shade of your quickly cooling eyelids. Your limbs were stiff but your vision was alive and swelling. There was a consciousness you’d never known death could hold, that allowed thoughts and dreams to roam openly.

Visions of yellow daisies erupting left you breathless when suddenly there was an explosion of color and you were gasping for air, eyes shooting open and blinking in the confusion of the aftermath.

Fingers tingling and breast heaving, your vision finally came into focus and your gaze shifted to the figure leaning over you. “Jungkook?” You breathed.

Jungkook’s eyes were red, cheeks swollen with tears and you watched in surprise as he lurched forward, burying his face in your chest and crying. “I thought I’d lost you!” He wailed. “How could you do something so stupid? I need you, you’re everything to me!”

Your breathing was shallow, evening out with the life that was filling your chest. “What about Snow?”

“I could not wake her. Only true loves kiss can break the spell.”

“How did I wake up?” You asked softly.

“I kissed you.” Jungkook murmured, his tears slowing with his exhale as he lifted himself from you.

You took a deep breath as you tried to allow your thoughts to settle. “You…kissed…me?”

“I had to try.” He whispered, “I love you.”

You watched his face carefully as you took deep breaths. Your body felt heavy from death, like you’d slept too deeply and woken suddenly.

“Help me sit up?” You asked softly and Jungkook complied, helping you to sit up against the trunk of a tree.

You were still in the forest and morning light was seeping through the openings of the trees. “How long have I been…asleep?” You asked delicately. The dwarfs stood behind Jungkook’s kneeling figure, faces the picture of relief.

Jungkook frowned, eyes dimming. “You were missing 3 days. The dwarf’s found you this morning and I came as soon as I could. I thought I’d lost you.” He repeated weakly.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled. “I thought I would never see you again and couldn’t bear the thought of it. It was a very selfish thing to do, I admit.”

“Yes, it was.” Jungkook scolded and you stared in surprise. “Death is a very permanent solution to such a temporary problem. You can’t just have a tantrum when things don’t go your way. Even if I had been able to wake Snow you would have recovered from the disappointment. We all recover and move on with our lives, that’s the way of things.”

“I thought you said you loved me, why are you yelling at me?” You muttered into your lap.

“I do love you,” Jungkook sighed, “but I’m mad at you.”

You nodded, clasping your hands together. “I understand.” Silence descended and you blinked in thought. “What will happen to Snow? Will she remain asleep forever?”

Jungkook paused, blinking down at you before pushing his hair from his brow. “I find in my sorrow I neglected to tell you everything. Snow is alive and well.”

Your eyes jumped up to his, eyebrows knitting together. “But you said you couldn’t wake her.”

“I couldn’t.” Jungkook affirmed, “But it turns out the huntsman could.”

“Oh.” You breathed.

You supposed you shouldn’t have been so surprised; all the signs were there. You had just been so consumed with Jungkook and his destiny that you hadn’t paid much attention to what could have been happening between Snow and Diterich.

“Perhaps we could make our way inside.” Doc smiled and you glanced over Jungkook’s shoulder to return the gesture. “We are preparing supper and have warm blankets. It will take some time to recover from the effects of the poison.”

Jungkook stood suddenly, sliding his arms under your legs and around your waist to hoist you into his arms. “Please, lead the way.” . . The fire was warm and full as Jungkook placed you in the large chair in front of it, taking the proffered blanket from one of the dwarfs and spreading it over your body. You felt a bit too warm as you sat there, watching everyone prepare the food but Doc insisted you stay exactly as you were so that the heat could help you sweat out the remnants of the poison; much like a fever.

“What now?” You asked softly, holding onto Jungkook’s hand while he sat on the floor beside you. “Your father will be extremely unhappy about this turn of events.”

“I imagine so.” Jungkook mused, staring into the flames. Silence engulfed the two of you and you chewed on the inside of your bottom lip in thought. Even now, with Jungkook at your side and Snow awake from another’s kiss, there were no guarantees Jungkook’s father wouldn’t still insist on them marrying.

They were betrothed, after all.

“I suppose it’s unreasonable to think you could be with a commoner.” You murmured, bottom lip trembling despite yourself. “I understand if you have to go.”

Jungkook turned to look at you sharply. “I have no intention of leaving you. I thought I lost you twice, I will not lose you again.”

“But your father!” You insisted, sniffing and rubbing a tear from the corner of your eye.

“I don’t care.” Jungkook said, lifting onto his knees and sitting in front of you. “You own my heart; totally and completely. I can’t continue without you and I refuse to do so. I’ve tried to do my duty my entire life and now I want to do something for me.”

“How selfish of you.” You smiled softly, a gesture that he returned, lifting your hand to his lips and leaving a soft kiss.

“We’re all entitled to a little selfishness sometimes.”

“Well come now,” Happy beamed, patting his belly cheerfully, “the supper is ready and we should have full stomachs before such heavy talk.”

“Stay put and we’ll bring some over to you.” Doc hummed, ladling some of the stew into a wooden bowl and handing it to Grumpy to bring to you.

“Thank you.” You murmured, taking the bowl from him and he offered you one of his rare smiles, patting the top of your hand.

“You really scared us, girl.”

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, “I really am. I didn’t realize how many people my decision would impact.”

“You have many people that love you, dear.” Doc smiled, bringing a bowl to Jungkook and sitting down across from you with his own. “Sometimes we don’t see what’s right in front of us, but it doesn’t mean it’s not there. We’re glad you’re safe.”

“I would miss you.” Bashful blushed and Dopey nodded his head vigorously.

“I would miss you too.” You smiled.

“Well, tuck in. Sleepy, could you bring the bread?” Doc called. The other dwarfs came with their own bowls and a loaf of bread that everyone divided between them.

Conversation was light and jolly as they talked of music and celebrations. The bread was warm and buttered, melting on your tongue and the stew was hearty and filling. By the time you’d finished your food you felt full and as though you’d sweat a river.

Jungkook looked at you, chuckling. “You’ll need to wash yourself.”

“How preposterous. Commenting on my state in such a way.” You tutted, attempting to push the blanket from your lap before Doc pushed it back up, insisting you wait.

“We’ll prepare a bath for you. We’ve sent for your mother; she will help to bathe you.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary!” You insisted, face warming.

“My dear child,” he said softly, holding your hand in his own and speaking gently, “you’ve been dead for 3 days. You’ll need the help. Would you prefer one of us help you bathe?” He chuckled.

Jungkook looked positively mortified, “what an outrageous jest!” He said, gesticulating wildly, “that would be completely improper.”

“I see your sense of humor remains stiff and serious.” Grumpy commented offhandedly, shuffling from the room.

The dwarfs settled back into their conversations; comfortable by the warmth of the fire. Shame filled your chest as you stared down at the prince, still sat on the floor beside you, fingers locked around yours. His face was puffy and red from crying and your heart thumped uncomfortably at the thought that you’d caused him so much pain.

“Jungkook.” You murmured and he looked up at you, eyes wide in inquiry. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking…I just assumed that you’d be able to wake her and I would be forgotten…I couldn’t…I just couldn’t handle it. I’m so sorry.”

Jungkook hurried to his knees, rubbing the tears from your cheeks with his thumb as he soothed you with gentle words. “I know. I would have missed you terribly. I did miss you terribly. I was nearly out of my mind with grief when we found you.”

“I’m so sorry.” You said once again, watching his dark eyes flicker across your face; surveying him so close you could hardly believe you were here and now. “And…I love you too.”

Your heart jumped nervously at the proclamation. Even though he’d been the first to say it, it was terrifying to say out loud. The nature of your relationship was altogether forbidden and yet you craved him, yearned for him, loved him.

Anyone but him would never be enough.

Tears sprung from your eyes once more; unbidden and heavy in their tracks across your cheeks.

“I know.” He whispered, nodding and stroking your cheeks once more. “It’s such a tragedy that our first kiss was while you were sleeping, don’t you think?”

You watched as he smiled, eyes crinkling at the sides. His tone of voice was playful and you pouted at him. “Don’t tease me if you mean nothing by it.” You chastised.

He grinned, glancing around the room quickly before leaning forward to press his lips against yours. “Better?”

“That was too quick.” You breathed, reaching forward and pulling him back to you by the nape of the neck. He was warm against you, hands resting on the arms of the chair to your side as he tilted his head to fit comfortably against your mouth.

“Your mother has arrived.” Doc called from by the window and you pulled away from the prince quickly, glancing towards the door.

Jungkook stood, moving closer to the fireplace as your mother entered, eyes sunken and dark. The guilt floored you once again as you took in her expression; the fear, confusion, anger. She glanced around the room, eyes darting towards the prince.

“Your majesty.” She croaked, head bowing slightly before she moved towards you.

Your chest seized as she came to sit in front of you, eyes filling with tears and you couldn’t have felt smaller. “You stupid girl,�� she whispered, hands shakily moving to grab yours resting on your lap. Her tears flowed freely now. “Are we nothing to you? Your father and I? Are we not deserving of your thoughts?”

“I’m so sorry.” You whispered, bottom lip trembling.

Her head fell into your lap, shoulders shaking with her cries and you felt the flames of tears licking at your throat. You didn’t feel like you deserved to cry now; not when you’d caused so much pain. It hadn’t even crossed your mind how many people cared. You felt foolish for ever having doubted.

Your mother raised her head, standing and wiping at her cheeks. “Will someone be kind enough to help me bring her to the bath?”

The prince immediately stepped forward. “I would be honored.” He said softly.

They both helped you to move slowly to the bathing room, your arms around their shoulders and you felt like your chest might burst open from shame.

Jungkook helped you to sit on the stool by the bath before excusing himself, closing the door behind himself. Your mother worked to undo the bindings of your dress, sliding in from your form and you shivered. She’d not bathed you since you were a child and your mortification continued to mount.

“So, it’s the prince then?” She said as she unfolded a cloth and sat it on the edge of the tub before helping you to stand and step into the water. It was warm and smelled sweet like lavender. Your bones sunk heavily into the wooden basin. “He’s the one that you’ve been going to see?”

You glanced up at her, chewing your bottom lip before nodding and staring down into the water. Your mother sighed. “I suspected as much.”

“You suspected?” You asked in surprise.

“I’m not daft child.” She remarked and your fingers twisted together under the water. She bent into a squat, dipping the cloth into the water with you and using it to gently scrub your skin. “I saw the way he looked at you that day he came back. Why do you think I insisted you wear your best dress to the castle?”

“Surely you could not have foreseen this.” You said softly.

“Certainly not.” She agreed, “Though I did hope you could raise your fortune higher than we ever could.”

“Mother,” you sighed, using your fingers to trickle water across your arms, “to marry a prince…it’s a feat I’m afraid my station in life makes me incapable of.”

“Perhaps.” She agreed, scrubbing down your back. “But his devotion is clear, my child. If I am not mistaken, I believe he will fight for you.”

She moved to the front, scrubbing carefully and you watched her work, eyes blurry with tears. “I’m so sorry mother. I was so unfair to you and father.” She looked up at you, pausing her work as you cried, “You’ve given everything for me; given me a good life and I repaid you with so much sorrow. I will spend my whole life apologizing.”

Your mother tutted, lifting your chin with her finger and you looked at her blurry face. “The best apology I could get is your happiness. My dear, a mother always forgives and loves her child. Promise me you’ll fight for your future.”

“I promise.” . .

“Would you like stew?” Happy asked as your mother helped you to settle back in the chair by the fire.

“I am a mite hungry.” She smiled, accepting the bowl from his hands and a hunk of bread.

“What will happen with Snow now?” Sneezy asked, standing beside the hearth and prodding into the fire with a poker. “The queen is dead; Snow will have to ascend to the throne.”

You glanced sharply up and Jungkook who reached out to squeeze your shoulder. “All will be well, I’m sure. I will take care of things.”

“We need to return home as soon as I’m finished.” Your mother said from the chair by the fire. “Your father is expecting us. He wants to see you home.”

“Would you like my help escorting you?” The prince asked. “It’s a bit of a walk in her state.”

Your mother bowed her head as thanks. “I will accept the help as far as the fields. Any closer and my husband will see. I’ve told him that you were injured, Y/N, but he does not know the true nature of what happened. It will remain this way. As soon as we leave this cottage, we will never speak of it again. It’s for the best.”

You nodded quietly, quickly thinking of a plausible injury while she finished her food. When everything was ready, both Jungkook and your mother hiked your arms around their shoulders once more, helping you from the cottage and carefully into the forest.

The walk was quiet, despite the racing thoughts of your party, and you moved slowly so as not to weaken yourself further. When the three of you had made it to the fields, you paused and Jungkook stepped away from beside you.

“Thank you for your help, your majesty.” Your mother said softly, bowing her head once more.

Jungkook himself bowed, to the surprise of your mother and you smiled. Ever the gentleman. “The pleasure was mine, ma’am. Y/N…” he paused, glancing at your mother before continuing. “I will speak with my father tonight. . .

~Jungkook’s P.O.V~

The king was in the study when the prince returned that evening. He sat in a comfortable chair by a roaring fire, book in one hand and glass of red wine in the other. He nodded as his son entered, closing his book and waving him over into the seat in front of him.

“I’m glad you’re here.” He said, setting the book and his glass of wine down on the small table beside him. He waited for Jungkook to seat himself. “I was wanting to speak to you about your betrothal.”

The prince nodded, hands ringing together in front of him. “I was hoping to speak with you as well.” He said, leaning forward onto his knees. “About Margit.”

“Yes, very sad affair this. The death of a monarch so suddenly; it’s quite a tragedy.” The king said; morose.

“The queen was trying to kill, Margit.” Jungkook said lowly.

The king looked over at him, gaze calculating. “There’s no need to be so moral with me, son. I know the details. We’re not here to talk about the evil queen, but of your betrothed. She’ll need to be married before she can ascend to the throne.”

“Yes,” Jungkook nodded, straightening slightly, “I wish to speak to you about that as well.”

“Good, then we are in agreement. The marriage should take place quickly. We will of course have to take time to prepare and send invitations. We have many people who will need to come from far so the earliest we can progress would be a fortnight.” The king blathered and Jungkook cleared his throat to gain his father’s attention.

“If I could father, I would like to say something.” He took a deep breath at his father’s wave of approval. “You know I respect you and that I love this kingdom. I love this kingdom so much in fact, that I’ve done a lot of thinking and I wish to break the betrothal with Margit.”

“You wish to what?” The king spluttered, back ramrod straight in his chair. “You wish to break the betrothal?!”

“Yes, father.” Jungkook continued. “Margit is a wonderful woman and she will make a very good queen…of her own kingdom. We have discussed it and neither of us wishes to marry the other. We are not in love with one another.”

“What does love have to do with anything?” The king roared, eyes bulging from their sockets. “This is a political alliance of great magnitude! This is unacceptable, you will do your duty to your kingdom and your king!”

Jungkook straightened completely, staring deep into the angry eyes of his father. He looked mad with fury. “Why is marrying someone for political gain my duty, father? Do you not think someone from our own kingdom would do well?”

“Is this about that confounded peasant girl?” The king howled, standing from his chair and pacing angrily behind it.

Jungkook stood himself, quietly and with great poise. His father’s greatest weakness was how strongly his emotion ruled him. If the prince could present a calm and collected face, perhaps his father could see reason.

“Yes, it is.” He admitted. The king stopped suddenly, turning to look at his son. “I am in love with her.”

The king opened and closed his mouth a few times, surprise clearly etched into the wrinkles of his eyes. “Well,” he blustered, “well, what’s that to do with running a kingdom? Who is this girl anyway?”

“Father, your concern is that you want what is best for the kingdom. Please believe me when I say, that is my desire as well.” The king paused a moment, scrubbing a hand down his tired face. “I have the deepest respect for you and for this kingdom. I want what is best for the people that are in my care. It is why I chose to spend so much time out trying to see the village. I will admit that it has been difficult to make acquaintances with the people without giving myself away; so, I chose to spend time studying them from afar.”

His father resumed his seat, beckoning for his son to sit again. “The people are hardworking, father.” Jungkook continued, “They are good and they are kind and I wish to know their truest needs and desires. I believe the best way to do so would be to choose a bride from among them; someone who knows intimately what it is to be a villager in our kingdom.”

“And you wish for that girl to be your wife?” The king asked, fingers bouncing along the arm of his chair as his gaze switched from the flames to his son and back again.

“I do.” Jungkook admitted. “I would do anything to have her. Anything including…including giving up my claim to the throne.”

The king turned to him suddenly, surprise renewed and his whole body tensed. “Give up the throne?!”

The prince nodded, folding his hands together and staring straight at his father. “If that’s what it takes. It is not my desire to abdicate the throne, but if that’s what it takes to have the woman I love, I would do it.”

The king spluttered again noisily before shifting a few times in his chair, as though his body was filled with energy he couldn’t seem to release. He stared straight into the fire and Jungkook could see the thoughts racing behind his eyes.

“And what of the princess? Margit still needs to marry to ascend to the throne.”

Jungkook smiled softly at his father. “I would not have suggested such a drastic change in plans if I didn’t have a solution.” He said softly.

“I suppose you mean for her to marry a peasant as well?” The king grumbled, twisting the ring on his middle finger in quick circles.

“Not quite a peasant. A huntsman.”

The king scoffed before groaning and dropping his head into his hands. Jungkook watched him, his heart squeezing with compassion. All his father had ever known was duty; his head was not accustomed to giving way to his heart.

He sighed, glancing up at his son, looking more tired than ever before. “You know I want you to be happy,” he said. “As a father, I want you to find happiness no matter what, but as your king, I need you to also be reasonable; to see what you’re asking of me. This is no easy thing…to marry a commoner.”

“I know,” Jungkook nodded, leaning forward on his elbows again, seeking his father’s eyes. “I know what I ask of you is difficult, but love and duty can be joined for once. I can be happy and still rule this kingdom well; better in fact, with one of its women as my backbone.”

The king smiled softly, shaking his head. “You have the determination of your mother, you know.”

“You say that as though it were a bad thing.” The prince smiled and the king shrugged.

“It depends on the day.” Silence descended on the room, only the cracks of the fire as company while the king thought. “You’ve still not told me the name of your bride.” He said finally.

Jungkook looked up at his father, dark eyes twinkling in the light of the fire. “I think you will quite like her.” He grinned. . .

“You’re betrothed?” Else choked, standing at the doorway of her home and you smiled. “To the prince?!”

You chuckled, leaning against the timber walls. “That’s correct. You’ve met him you know…the man from the market. Jungkook.”

“That was the prince?” Else squawked and the chickens in her yard fluttered away with angry screeches. “How in the world did you woo him? How did you ever get the chance? Oh my, poor Peter! He will be so disappointed.”

Your heart dropped at the mention of his name. You’d requested your father not tell him after the prince had come to inquire after your hand. Your father had nearly fallen off his seat when the prince had expressed his desire; thought he’d about lost his mind to be asking such an absurd question. He was a prince!

Of course, he’d given permission and then became so suddenly thrilled you thought he might just run into the streets telling anyone he saw. You wanted your friends to hear it from you, though. Especially Peter. Else was right, of course, Peter would be heartbroken. But you knew the news would be best coming from you and not from gossip. You were one of his best friends, after all.

“Yes,” you agreed with a sigh. “I plan to meet with him today to tell him. The announcement will go out to the village tomorrow so this is my only opportunity. I’m not excited for it.”

“No, I supposed not.” Else commiserated. “You are to be queen, though! Never could I have imagined.”

“It feels uncomfortable to think it.” You admitted, leaning your forehead against the wall. “I’m not deserving of the title at all.”

Else frowned, hands going to rest on her hips as she looked at you. “I disagree completely.” She huffed, “You will make an excellent queen. You are kind and thoughtful, you keep the best interest of others at heart. You know the needs of the people. There is no one better for it.”

You smiled, shaking your head at her. “So decided are we, hey?” You sighed, standing straight and dusting off your dress. “I suppose I should go now. I want to catch Peter before he makes way home.”

Else wished you luck, demanding further details at a later time and you left her at the door, traveling further up the dirt path. Peter lived a little further out of the village, on the farm his brother now owned. The day was beautiful and warm and made you feel calm as you moved down the lane.

You caught Peter just before he turned on the path to his home and he greeted you warmly. “Good morning, Y/N! What brings you here?”

You smiled gently, “I’ve come to see you, Peter.”

“Oh?” He said, smiling happily. “Well, this is a pleasant surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

You cleared your throat, pointing towards the fence and he followed you there, leaning up against it, pushing the bag at his hip aside. “I was wondering if I might have a word with you.” You said softly.

Peter seemed surprised. It was unlike you to be so formal, so timid and you could see the questions on his face. “Of course. What’s troubling you?”

You sighed, straightening your shoulders and looking up at him. “I wanted you to hear the news from me, as I think it will come as quite a shock.” You paused to gauge his reaction, but he only looked confused. You continued. “I am engaged to be married.”

“Oh,” he paused, looking stricken, “To Meinolf? He did say…well, he did say he thought he might like to do so.”

“No,” You said softly, eyeing his expression. It was worse than you’d thought. He seemed to be struggling a great deal to keep the heartbreak from his face. “I am engaged to be married to the prince.”

“The prince?” Peter repeated, numb. He stared down at the ground, hands twisting around the strap of his bag. “The one in the castle?”

You wanted to ask if he knew another prince, but understood his shock. “Yes.” You confirmed patiently.

“How?-” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat, shaking his head before continuing. “How did such a thing come about?”

“Well,” you sighed, “it started rather simply. They came to our house that time, months ago as you know, after he’d returned home from school. We were then invited to the castle and after I’d taken faint, he came to seek after my health. He requested my help in getting to know the village and I thought it would be rather good to have a king who knows intimately the struggles of his people.”

You took a deep breath and Peter nodded for you to continue. “So, I agreed and we began to spend time together. I showed him around the village; had him meet some people I thought he might like to know about, and we became naturally closer.”

Peter closed his eyes, leaning against the fence and absorbing the information. Your heart thudded painfully at the pinched look on his face, but you waited for him to be ready. “And he fell in love with you?” He asked finally.

At your shy nod, he continued. “I am unsurprised by this. You are easy to fall in love with.” He said softly. You tried not to look pitying. You hated when people pitied you and you could imagine Peter would feel the same. “But do you love him? I remember you saying something about wanting to be in love.”

He looked earnest in his inquiry, like he really hoped for an honest answer so you felt at ease to give this to him. “I do.” You said, “I love him very much.”

He sighed deeply, licking at his bottom lip before nodding. “Then I am happy for you; you deserve happiness. I always knew you could have done much better than me.”

“Don’t say that.” You chastised, “Don’t lower yourself for my honor. You deserve to be with someone who loves you just as much as you love them. Do you think you could ever truly be with someone who didn’t reciprocate your feelings?”

He shrugged, staring up into the sky, robin’s egg blue and clear of all clouds. “It’s hard to say for sure, I’ve never tried it. You’re probably right, though…to love and be loved in return; it sounds wonderful. I’m happy for you, Y/N. I wish you a very happy marriage.”

“Thank you, Peter.” You smiled.

He nodded, staring down the dirt path towards his house.” I should go. Home, I mean. They’re expecting me.”

“Of course.” You murmured, watching as he nodded once more before turning and resuming his walk. . .

The view of the village from the top of the hill by the mill was particularly beautiful today. The summer was waning slowly, but leaving in its wake a shimmering warmth. You sat below the tree with the gnarl, legs tucked underneath your dress, resting your chin against your knees.

In a fortnight, everything would change. You would no longer be with your parents; your responsibilities would be completely new. You would be expected to learn politics, languages, public affairs…it would be a lie if you said the thought didn’t make you feel faint.

You’d do it all to have Jungkook, but you certainly hadn’t thought much passed just being with him before your dreams actually came true. Now you were expected to take on the responsibilities as your kingdoms future queen and you felt ill equipped to do so.

The village below you was teeming with life. You could hear the calls of people selling their goods; could see the butcher’s wife walking up through the streets with a basket full of sausages to tempt people into their shop. No one could imagine that tomorrow, one of their own would be elevated to a position so unimaginable. You worried that maybe some would resent you.

Perhaps some would imagine themselves worthy of royalty and wonder why they themselves had not been given a chance. How could you even begin to explain that you weren’t given a chance either? It just sort of…happened.

No, you supposed you would just have to endure whatever fall out may come. No monarch was unanimously liked…aside from perhaps Snow when she eventually took the throne. You smiled at the thought. Yes, you imagined she would be well liked.

“I thought I would find you here.”

You turned to find the prince moving slowly towards you, hands clasped behind his back. The breeze moved through his hair lethargically, the strands framing his face handsomely. You could hardly believe he was yours.

“You were looking for me, your majesty?” You teased, fingers twisting in the fabric of your dress as he scrunched his face at you.

“Yes, my future queen.”

You huffed, flushing and staring out at the village below you. “I feel faint at the thought of it.” You admitted.

“It is a lot of responsibility.” He sighed, sitting down beside you and slipping his fingers into yours. “We’ll do it together, won’t we?’

“Yes, we will.” You smiled up at him.

“Did you speak with Else and Peter?” He asked delicately, tracing the veins against the back of your hand.

“I did.” You replied. “Else was very happy and Peter was disappointed; nothing I didn’t expect. They send their well wishes, though. Both of them.”

The morning was ebbing into early afternoon as you sat on that hill top together, fingers linked, the prince’s thumb stroking back and forth across the back of your hand as you enjoyed one another’s company.

“Do you remember the first time we saw each other again? At your house.” He asked suddenly. You turned your attention towards him as he smiled down at you. “Your family was waiting for my father and I outside your house and we hadn’t seen each other in years.”

“Of course I remember.” You smiled, “I was dreading it. I assumed you’d be that same awful boy from before, just older.”

Jungkook flushed pink, lips twisting into a lopsided smile. “I have the feeling you thought I still was after that meeting.”

You could remember his words even now, he’d treated you as though you were just a toy to be played with, something to amuse him. Even now, you couldn’t reconcile that man with the man before you today. “Yes, you didn’t make a great impression. I felt as though you just saw me as an accessory.”

His head hung low, bobbing up and down with his nod. “Yes, I apologize for that. At the time, I hadn’t realized how it had sounded. It was upon further reflection that I felt I had sounded unkind. I only meant to ensure that you would be at the castle with your father and Peter.”

“Why is that?” You asked him.

He smiled, staring down the hillside and avoiding your gaze. “You looked very pretty. I am a man after all, and I wanted to see you again. To show you that I’d changed. I didn’t do so well that first day.”

“No,” you said with a laugh. “No, you did not do well at all that day. Did you know that my mother put me in my best dress to go see you in the castle? I couldn’t understand why she would waste effort on making me look so presentable when I was going to go see the king. Why would he need for me to look nice?”

“The effort certainly was not wasted.” Jungkook said softly and you smiled, looking up into his soft brown eyes, warmed from affection. “You looked even more beautiful that day. I could hardly believe how much you had changed. It made me feel ashamed of myself.”

“Really?” You asked in surprise and he nodded.

“Because I had assumed that you would still be that same little girl that I had misjudged. You were amazing, though. Vivacious, beautiful, gentle, and you were so unwilling to be what others wanted you to be. That was very alluring.”

You laughed, your chest fit to bursting with equal amounts pride and embarrassment. “You make me sound so lovely.” You mumbled.

Jungkook smiled, hand going to rest against your cheek and you looked up at him, heartbeat accelerating. “You are lovely. So lovely. I love you deeply. You are far more than I deserve. I am only a man.”

“And I am only a woman.” You smiled, cheek nestling deeper in his hand as his thumb made waves across your flesh. “let’s be equals, shall we?”

His lips against yours was his gentle acceptance. . . ** About 2 months later **

The early morning was crisp. You stood at the balcony dressed in only your night shirt and a glass of warm tea clutched in your hands. Your attendant had recently left after waking you and you sipped sleepily at your drink.

You’d hardly slept last night; so much to occupy your mind. It had only been a month since your wedding, but after the party and the bedding ceremony were finished and you’d been able to get a night’s rest, you’d woken to lessons and training from sun up to sun down.

The king had been uncommonly kind; understanding of your limitations and patient with your learning. He said you were doing remarkably well all things considered. You felt he flattered you to the point of near dishonesty, but you appreciated his faith in you none the less.

It was intimidating to jump into a role you were so whole heartedly unprepared for. You could never have truly imagined how much work it would take to become an acceptable ruler. Still, there was a part of you that was really enjoying your time learning.

In the village, you’d been unable to return to school once your womanhood had begun. Your mother insisted you stay home and learn to tend a home when that time came; insisting it was the education you would need anyway.

At the time, it had felt unfair, but you’d understood. As far as you knew, you would grow up to tend a home and bear children. Language and politics were of no use to you. Now, of course, everything had changed and you felt very ill equipped.

It was still early enough in the morning that most of the villagers had not woken. You could see some smoke plumes in chimneys from your spot on the balcony, but otherwise, all was silent. A knock at your bedroom door roused your attention and you called out softly for their entry.

You knew it was Jungkook anyway.

“Good morning.” He said gently, closing the door behind him and making his way over towards your balcony. “I see the master of the wardrobe has not come yet.”

“I asked for a little extra time to revive myself.” You hummed.

Jungkook moved behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and you could see that he himself was already dressed in his outer clothing.

“You look beautiful.” He murmured, leaving a kiss against your cheek and you huffed pleasantly.

“I just woke up. I look like the undead.”

“Impossible!” Jungkook insisted. You could feel his interest against your back, the warmth of his body drawing you closer and you smiled as his nose drew a delicate line across your jaw.

“We don’t have time.” You mumbled as his lips made their way across your neck and collarbone.

“I only need a few minutes.” He murmured, hands wandering temptingly upwards.

“That’s not as reassuring as it sounds.” You teased and you could hear his muffled laugh in the dip of your neck. “I still need to dress, we need to eat, and then we must travel a morning’s journey. We don’t have as much time as you think.”

You turned in his arms, placing your cup down on the table by the door and wrapping your arms around his neck. He looked unfathomably handsome this morning. Long dark hair pushed away from his face and wearing an ornate, deep blue tunic embossed in gold.

“My prince charming.” You sighed, looking up at him and he smiled. “I still can’t believe you’re mine.”

“I’m very persuasive.” The prince hummed, rocking your bodies lightly from side to side, “My father didn’t stand a chance. I knew you would be here with me someday.”

You laughed, running your hand up his chest. “Your confidence is almost alarming at times.”

“Alarmingly attractive.” Jungkook said as you stepped away from him and back into the bedroom. You hummed your agreement and he smiled. “Shall I call the master of the wardrobe?”

“Yes please,” you said, surveying the bags of scented perfume on your bureau.

After Jungkook returned from calling the help, he moved towards where you stood, two bags in your hands. “Which should I choose for today?”

You held each bag out for his inspection and he smelled them carefully before picking one. “You know this is my favorite.” He said, fiddling with the strings of a bag you’d left on the top of the bureau.

“Yes, but I also know how you behave when I wear it and we can’t be doing that at a wedding of all places.” You teased.

“True.” He grinned wolfishly.

A knock at the door and the master of the wardrobe was stepping in at your call. Jungkook left you to get dressed with a promise to wait for you down at breakfast. . .

Snow looked radiant in her wedding dress. Deep red with gold accenting; her lovely dark hair held high in a golden snood and a crown perched delicately on top of her head. She was more beautiful than you’d ever seen her; beaming happily at Dietrich as he spoke with a wedding guest.

The king led both Jungkook and yourself towards the couple and Snow smiled even brighter, embracing you tightly. “Your highness!” She beamed, nodding her head at the king who tucked his own in greeting. “Your majesties. You’ve all come. I am so happy to have you join us today.”

“It is the greatest pleasure.” The king replied grandly. “It is a wonderful day for a wedding, is it not? The weather is pleasant and the food is plenty.”

The hall of Snow’s castle was beautiful. The kingdom of Vildüngan was nestled in the rolling green hills of Weidenbaum auf Nidd. The décor of the dining hall reflected the nature surrounding the castle, vines draped across windows and corridors with soft pink and blue forget-me-nots and edelweiss tucked into the foliage.

The high table and three long tables in the center had been adorned with dining ware, ready for their occupants. You could smell the tantalizing scents of the kitchen wafting to where you all stood, sweet and savory already pricking your taste buds into excitement.

“Will you be our honored guests at the high table?” Snow asked, her arm linked through that of her new husband’s.

“How could we refuse such a generous offer?” Jungkook smiled, motioning for them to move forward and the three in your party followed after, greeting foreign dignitaries and foreign royalty on your way.

The high table afforded you a spectacular view of the dining hall and its occupants. As everyone seated themselves, the servants began to fill the tables with food; so much you felt you could almost hear the tables groaning under the weight.

You filled your plate with the food closest to you as you engaged in conversation with the queen from Duchy of Savoy. She spoke of her children, all too young to attend, and you smiled and laughed with her stories.

She made you feel an anxious sort of excitement for your future with Jungkook. He was talking animatedly with the King, cutting into a shank of lamb and you tried desperately to concentrate on your own present conversation, despite how distracting he was.

The evening waxed late when a trumpet was sounded and Snow smiled, standing tall before all in the room. “I want to thank you once again, on behalf of myself and my new husband. How gracious you are for coming to be with us this evening and to celebrate our union. There was a time not so long ago when things could have been very different than they are now.”

She glanced down at both Jungkook and you, a small smile curving her lips up. “We have much to be grateful for tonight. Your company, for starters.” The room cheered loudly, clanking cups against the wooden tables and Snow laughed. “Yes, and of course my health. I am indebted to my dear husband on that account. I am grateful for the bravery of friends that changed the tides of fate. For the flexibility of my people and the sovereigns of this land who felt that with great change, a better world could be created.”

The room was quiet, but happily so. The atmosphere was warm and pleasant, the buzz of contentedness you got from a full belly and a warm fire. You felt the alluring tendrils of sleep tug behind your eyes, but the party was still young and you hadn’t had a dance yet.

“I hope, that going forward from this evening on, we will form a great alliance one with another; that we will remember this evening and these warm feelings. I beg we rise together, that we align together to look after our brothers of distant countries and remember we are family. I know each of you by name and you have great worth to me. Let us celebrate as long as the moon will allow and remain tied as long as our kingdoms shall endure. To our futures together!”

“Here here!” Called the room, lifting cups and drinking deeply. Jungkook finished his own glass, turning to face you and reaching for your hand under the table.

“May we live long and reign with all the dignity and love we have in us.” He whispered.

You smiled, squeezing his hand in yours, warm and whole. You felt secure, you felt loved, and you finally felt like you’d found your rightful place. With him.

“Here here.”

I’m so sorry it’s late! I had a crazy weekend and completely forgot. It’s over, though! Can’t believe it’s done. I hope that you enjoyed and I’d really appreciate you sharing your thoughts! <3

#jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic #bts jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #bts jungguk #bts jeon jungguk

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oftenderweapons · 3 years

Text

Steamy Waters – Jin

Pairing: Seokjin x reader (nicknamed Angel) Wordcount: 9.1k Genre: smut, unadulterated smut, slightest fluff, established relationship, idol!au Rating: 18+

Hello wildflowers! Welcome to Jin’s Steamy Waters scenario (and coincidentally his birthday fic too). Let me explain you the plot, real quick: the fic is set right after the MAMA ceremony, and because of the several award ceremonies and a busy schedule, Jin and his gf unfortunately couldn’t celebrate his birthday in time. However, Jin decides to take the matter in his own hands, offering Angel a nice bath, which quite expectedly turns into very hot business.

And now on to TRIGGER WARNINGS: this is an established relationship and yes, the character have unprotected sex; no, this does not mean that you should forego condoms or dental dams. There is some swearing. Other than that, well, big dick, jackhammer!Jin is back (couldn’t really do any different. We know he’s blessed like that); breast worship, slight marking, nipple suction cups, clitoral suction cup, oral sex (both male and female receiving), cum shot (face and chest), cum eating and more generically cum play; masturbation (both male and female); barely dommy Seokjin; slight degradation (he calls her naughty and dirty a couple times, but he’s more patronising than insulting); gagging (he puts his fingers in her mouth to keep her quiet); overstimulation; very briefly, playfully mentions erectile dysfunction (Jin jokes about it). Angel has medium-big, quite sensitive breasts. Jin and Angel briefly discuss a past scene where a pinwheel and a riding crop were involved, and where Angel used her safeword (no angst).

In case you need it, well here is my masterlist

(I’ll be editing this again sometime soon, here it’s ass o’clock in the morning and atm I can barely think straight -- well, I never really think straight, I’m bi af.)

Enjoy 💜✨

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Jin came through the door with the tip of his nose red, rubbing his hands together.

“Darling.” You called from the kitchen. It was almost one am and you had just finished watching the MAMA ceremony, waiting for him to get home. As you waited, you got two cups of tea ready, especially after he told you he had been cold all night long.

When he appeared, he was the personification of an icicle, shaking all over. “Hi.” He greeted.

“Hello, baby. Would you like some tea?” You asked, standing in front of him.

He nodded. You hugged him tight. “Oh, you’re frozen, baby.” You stood on your tiptoes and kissed his lips. “Congratulations on your… how many prizes?” Your frowned in confusion.

“They’re… eight? Nine? I lost count.” He shrugged and dipped down his head, kissing you again, rubbing his frozen nose against yours. “And I’m happy about those, but...” He placed his hands on your waist, letting them slide down to your hips and ass. “I have other stuff on my mind.”

“Like?” You said, smiling and running your palms up his chest, gripping his shoulders.

“Like the fact that we didn’t celebrate my birthday because they kept me busy.” He murmured, kneading your ass through the fine fleece of your pyjamas.

“You want to celebrate?” You said, combing his hair back, grimacing as your fingers got caught on several strata of hairspray. “Maybe after you shower?” You suggested.

“Maybe you could keep me warm in the bathtub.” He looked down and licked his lips, raising his eyebrows as he looked into your eyes.

You raised your eyebrows in reply, a bit surprised by his proposition. “You’ve eaten already?” You asked.

“Mhmh.” He confirmed as he kept his hands on your waist, backwalking towards the bathroom with small steps.

“What are you doing?” You asked, with a smirk.

“Claiming my birthday present?” He suggested, taking bigger steps now that he was in the short corridor leading to the master bedroom and that you looked more complacent.

You chuckled. “You really want to take a bath at one am?”

“I just want quality time with you.” He said. “And I need to get washed.”

“Okay.” You nodded as he finally entered the bathroom.

He grinned, immediately walking to the tub and blocking the drain before he opened the tap, placing the settings on hot water. He poured some soap in, his sweet jasmine scent wafting through the room. The air in the bathroom was toasty, and he placed his hands near the heater, letting them warm up before he undid the buttons of his shirt.

He only had a white tank top on underneath, which made you realize how cold he must have been. The garment emphasised his thin waist and wide shoulders so beautifully that you walked closer, backhugging him. “Did you have a woolen jacket on or was it light fabric?” You asked, rubbing your hands down his arms.

“I had the jacket on stage, I had my coat in the backstage.” He reassured you.

Your hands met his belt, so familiar with it that it was almost too easy to undo.

“Are you helping me get undressed?” He asked with a playful tone.

“Maybe.” You replied with a cheshire grin that he spotted through the mirror.

“Why aren’t you undressing yourself?” He asked, curious.

You shrugged. “I prefer when you undress me.”

He turned around in your arms, cupping your cheeks, his eyes glimmering with dark intensity. He looked so unbelievably beautiful as he licked his lips. “You want me to undress you?” He asked, his voice calm and serious and warm.

“Yes, Jinnie.” You whispered, placing his hands on the waistband of your sweats.

“Here.” He said, as he bent down, dragging the garment with him, helping your feet out of the legs of your pyjamas while he stayed crouched at your feet. Standing up, he noticed the lack of underwear. “No panties?” He asked, raising his eyebrows and smirking slowly.

“They were making me uncomfortable.” You explained, raising your arms as he took off your camisole.

“And what about the bra?” He asked, immediately cupping your breasts and diving his face in between them, pressing heavy kisses on your breastbone.

“I never wear it at home and you know it.” You stated matter-of-factly.

“Sometimes you do.” He said.

“Never with my pyjamas.” You objected.

He shrugged and kissed both your nipples gingerly. “My turn?” He said, raising his arms.

You slipped your hand under his tank top, dragging it up with your nails, his hands landing on your ass.

“You’re on fire tonight, Jinnie.” You teased. He had become more passionate with time, warming up to you and your kinkier needs, discovering domination and all the connected disciplines. He had learned a lot — most importantly that having sex with you was just as good and perfect as making love to you — which had come as a revelation to him and a blessing to you.

Still, sometimes you wished you hadn't set the beast inside him free, since he could be the most demanding, exhausting lover you could ever imagine.

He caught your wrists, stopping your hands from tugging down his slacks and underwear together. “You don't want it?” He asked, suddenly serious.

You thought about it. You were tired and your eyes felt droopy after six hours in front of the television. “I'm just surprised. I didn't know you had been craving it like this.” You explained. “I would have helped you out if I had known.”

He pushed your wrists down, dragging his trousers too in the process. “I wanted to take our time. Make it something big, festive.” He said just as you kneeled to take his pants off, his half hard cock springing free.

“If you want, we can put a ribbon on your dick and there you go, 'big and festive'.” You joked, already trying to get your mouth on his length.

He chuckled and your heart filled with happiness as his joy manifested. You love making him laugh.

“I have an idea.” He announced suddenly with a serious face as he took a step back, stopping your naughty endeavour.

“Your ideas scare me. And no, we're not doing the pinwheel thing again. I still have to emotionally recover from that.” You said.

His mind went back to that evening. It had been almost ten days. “You looked so pretty, though.”

“I just need a bit before we go there again.” You explained.

“This conversation is not over, let me just go grab a thing,” He said, wrapping a towel around his waist and exiting the bathroom. In the meantime you closed the tap, getting ready to dip your toes in.

“Don't go in just yet.” He said, entering the room just in time. He placed two small objects on the bathroom counter. “Come here, please.” He said. “I think this could work, but I'm not sure.”

You took a few steps, your frame standing naked in front of him. God, he wanted you in so many ways. Your grace and finesse and selfish sexuality, all enslaved to his pleasure. He wanted that. He wanted to use you for his pleasure and drive you completely insane as he did so. He wanted you to live your pleasure through his. He wanted your soul, your body, your big eyes staring at him, and your cunt dripping all over him.

Later, he told himself.

He turned and picked up the tiny accessories from the bathroom sink. “These cannot go underwater, Angel. If they do, they might lose the vacuum effect and release your pretty buds.” He bent down to your left nipple, cupping the underside of your breast to bring it closer to your mouth. He suckled on it a little, his hand cupping your mound, teasing a wetness that he seemed to evoke simply with his attention towards you. Parting from your breast with a loud sucking noise, he used both his hands to fix the small nipple pump around your small protuberance, keeping the cylinder firm as he twisted a small screw on top of the cylinder which regulated the amount of pressure inside the cup.

He repeated the same procedure on the other nipple, after he laved it with wide, lush licks. “It would have been lovely to put one on your clit, but I'm not sure it could hold.” He kissed your sternum. “Plus, I shouldn't spoil your pretty cunt from the very start.” He bent to your ear. “You've got to earn yourself heaven, Angel.” He smiled innocently and winked before standing up straight.

You frowned and took a step back before noticing the way the towel was still draped around his hips and sat a bit awkwardly around his growing cock.

Smirking, you tugged at it, leaving him naked. He lifted an eyebrow before sporting a lop-sided grin. “Don’t make me put you on your knees, Angel.”

“What if I wanted you to do just that?” You asked, stepping closer, dragging your nails down his thigh.

“In the tub. Now.” He ordered.

“You won’t even let me kiss it?” You asked, batting your lashes at him.

“Later. Maybe.” He said, looking at your breasts and licking his lips. “Get in the tub, Angel.” He repeated, more gently. You hugged him and you were suddenly reminded of the small suction cups as they collided with Jin’s chest.

Holding your waist, he started taking small steps to his destination, leading you as you walked backwards. “I want to relax with you first. Talk about some stuff.” He stated softly.

You simply nodded, just a small part of you growing alarmed at his statement regarding “talking about stuff”. You trusted him and your relationship was solid. There was nothing to be worried about.

He stopped you just shy of the tub, entering and holding your hand as he helped you in, sitting down first and making you settle between his legs. His hands immediately moved under your breasts, supporting them to avoid the cups getting underwater. “There we go, my love.” He murmured gently. “So what happened with the pinwheel? Would you like to talk about it? Did I cross a line?” He asked.

Truth is, Seokjin has learned a lot. From being a novice, he had become an upper-intermediate in terms of domination and punishments. If you asked him, he would say that half of his improvements were because of the excellent communication that the two of you had built. Moments like this, where you simply connected and recollected events together weren’t rare at all. He would ask you for suggestions and improvements, he would question you about what had gone wrong and what you would like to explore further.

“I think that at a certain moment you snapped? And the riding crop was… too much. I was so focused on the tiny feel of the pinwheel that the crop was all too sudden and...I couldn’t stand it.”

His body was finally warm at your back. He slowly let go of your chest, making sure that the cups wouldn’t submerge as he stretched to dry his hands with a towel, only to fix your hair on top of your head, trying to make sure that they didn't get wet. “You used your safeword a couple times but you didn’t stop. Why?” He asked.

“I used our yellow. To slow down.” You recalled.

He hummed in confirmation.

“I liked your attitude. I wanted you to keep going, even though the scene was a bit harsh.” You explained.

“Was I too harsh?” He asked delicately, his hands going back to your breasts, massaging the heavy underside. The dry pull at your nipples made you clench the inner walls of your entrance, and you could almost sense the wetness already forming inside,

“A few times. When you hit the spot where the pinwheel had just been. Especially on my breasts. And crotch.” You explained trying to keep your composure but failing, throwing your head against his shoulder and huffing out his name.

His hands were teasing in that skilled, knowledgeable way he knew, like you were his harp and he was playing you with the most delicate stimulation. With his thumbs he was drawing lines that moved from the perimeter of each breast to its nipple, like rays of an inverted sun, going from the outskirts to the centre. Your skin grew more and more sensitive, with blood blooming to the surface, summoned both by the suction on your nipple and by his delicate touches. The arousal, only adding onto the vicious circle, made your heartbeat faster, fatefully increasing the amount of fresh blood running under the skin skimmed by his fingers, in an endless game of chase where all you did was run in circles around pleasure, without ever a true chance of reaching it.

“Are they getting sensitive, my love?” He asked, his hands continuing with their pattern even as your hands dove underwater to grip his knees. Anything that could anchor you down and keep you from moving like a flame to his wind.

“What are your intentions? Do you want to play?” You asked. You knew he was tiptoeing around that fine line that divided your Jinnie, bright and playful and loving, to the dark and demanding master that he could become when in his worst behaviour.

“I wanted to see if we can just… blur the line a little.” He asked, slightly doubtful. “I know that so far we have always discussed most things together and that has kept us this close.” He said, right when his hands went back to simply cupping your curves.

He nuzzled his nose into the hair of your nape. You shivered slightly, just as his cock fluttered, trapped between his abdomen and your backside as he spooned you. “Tonight I thought we could keep all the rough stuff on the side and just… Have fun? Like, doing what we do but without me overpowering you and using you and all of that. I just want it to be light. And fun. Light like when we make love and fun like when we play.” Jin asked, frowning as he realised just how strange and confused hus request was.

“You want the sex without the domination.” You rephrased before he nodded simply. “That is fine to me.” You agreed.

“I mean, I might still take control. I have the strange feeling I will. Like I will completely ignore this conversation and turn Godzilla on you.”

You shrugged. It’s not like you didn’t enjoy him doing that. Actually, it’s what he did best. Not that the rest wasn’t nice. Quite the opposite. But if his vanilla was ten out of ten, his… So to say… Beast mode… Well, that was an eleven.

“Jinnie, baby. It’s your birthday, love.” You said. “Well, not really your birthday birthday, but it’s you that we’re celebrating. You know I support you whatever you do. If I don’t like it, I’ll tell you.” You stated coolly.

“But you promise you won’t say yes when you want to say no only because it’s my birthday?” He asked, and you could almost hear the small pout in his voice,

“No birthday privilege can push me through my hard limits, Jinnie.” You reassured him.

“Cool.” He stated.

“Cool.” You echoed.

“Will you wash my hair, please?” He asked, kissing your temple.

You smiled, falling in love all over again, head to toe, in that precise second. You turned your head, looking at him from over your shoulder. “Of course.” You turned around fully, facing him, kneeling between his legs as he moved closer to the middle of the tub. His hands immediately moved to your waist, touching it as if he was moulding the thin neck of a vase.

“You’re very handsy tonight.” You noticed as you drew the small shower head close to his head, placing your hand at his hairline to make sure that he wouldn’t get water in his eyes.

“I…” He began, however he found himself speechless. He didn’t really have any reasons other than wanting you. He didn’t quite understand how it was that this craving of his had appeared so sudden and intense. He didn’t know what made it so different from the other times. He was just… So needy. It felt right. So right, to cross some boundaries tonight, to go the extra mile — miles, even — to please you. He just needed to see you come apart in his arms. Maybe he needed a confirmation? Yes, he needed to know that he was going in the right direction. But he also just wanted to have fun. To feel young. To feel that teenage frenzy that had never possessed him.

Because he felt envious. Sometimes. Of the way the others seemed to live sex as this possessing and at the same time liberating experience that seemed to just cleanse them from all the frustration of rehearsals and performances and shows and everything. Of the way Hoseok waltzed in all fresh and loose-limbed, five minutes late on Saturday morning. Of the dizzy smile Taehyung had that morning when Lace slept at their place. Of the way Yoongi randomly disappeared every now and then, only to come back with bruises on his neck and this lazy and sated look on his face. And of the way Namjoon was always so energised and productive till the late hours after Vixen left his studio in bright red stilettos and a fancy — and suspicious — raincoat.

They were the ones who could barely hide it. Jimin and Guk normally were more discreet. Except the little one had unnerving ego boosts every time he came back from weekends with Candy. And Jimin’s brattier side seemed always asleep once Princess had had her sweet way with him.

He wanted to be relaxed and careless and arrogant, just like that.

He kept thinking, where was the trick? What was it that made it that good? Was he doing something wrong?

Curious about his long long silence, you reckoned he was worrying over something. “What is it?”

He hesitated a couple seconds before his eyebrows knitted together in a focused expression. “What do you think it is that makes sex good?” He asked. “Perfect, even.”

You smiled and frowned, confused. “Why are you asking?”

“You know that relaxed, easy feel you have afterwards, when you’re just… Like, feeling hazy and all of that.”

You giggled and poured some shampoo on your palm, foaming it up before beginning to massage it into his scalp. “I guess it’s hormones.” You said, shrugging.

“Yeah, but… I don’t know. I’ve never felt that relaxed.” He said. “Of course I like what we do, and it’s not that what we’ve had so far isn’t good, but when the guys get laid it shows. Like, really really shows.”

Your eyebrows shot up, as you sat straighter, using your fingertips to scratch the crown of his head. He moaned, “right there”, and whined as you kept rubbing the spot with a knowing smirk. As his eyes opened slightly, he found your tits right in front of his face, at which he placed his forehead on your sternum dragging his face side to side, nuzzling into your breasts.

You laughed. “But it does show, when you get laid.” You moved your hand behind his ears, still checking for any leftovers of hairspray or hair gel.

“Really? How?”

“It’s subtle. You don’t boast about this stuff. But it shows.” You said, rubbing his scalp, just shy of his forehead, where most of the hairstyling had happened. You knew that having his hair lifted up like that over his face, showing the neat, broad expanse of his brow must have meant lots of hairspray and hair gel. “You walk straighter. Like you’re the king of the world. It’s like… In your spine. You scream ‘daddy material’ with your whole posture. You get even sexier than normal. You don’t notice it maybe, but you laugh more easily and you let yourself rest a little. That’s how it looks.”

Rinsing his hair, you let the water push it back, out of his forehead, which you admired for only a second before focusing on getting all the suds away from his hair. Once happy with the results, you closed the tap to the shower head, placing the tool back on its prop. You admired the smooth extent of clear skin under your eyes, his brow glimmering with water droplets. Bending down, you placed small kisses on it, making sure that not an inch went unkissed or unloved. “But maybe I should show you how it feels to really let go, to get that loose.”

He kissed your mole, right under your breast and slowly worked his way up, towards your caged nipple. “How does that work?”

You caught his head in your arms, cradling it. “Let me take care of that.” You suggested delicately, just as he teased the suction cup with his nose. The movement caused a shift in the flesh, a fresh wave of arousal washing over you. His wide, brown eyes stared into you, obviously knowing what that reaction must have meant. His hands tentatively caressed the back of your thighs, from your knees to the curve of your ass, slithering between your legs and pushing you forward, making you straddle his lap. This time he ran the tip of his thumb around the base of the cup, making your eyes roll back.

“What about you? Who’ll take care of you?” He asked, lightly patting the underside of your breasts before moving to firmer, slapping motions.

You lost your mind.

You let your hips fall, meeting the flesh of his cock and grinding against it. Penetration was a foolish thought at the current situation, but grinding? Yes, please.

Plus, the moment you heard Jin’s groan when you pressed him to your belly, you knew tonight was the night you would finally drive him over the edge. You knew that when he ventured into scenes with you, in the end he was relaxed, but he was still struggling with that sense of guilt that after a few months had significantly reduced, but was still there, on a smaller extent. And when he made love to you, he never really went to the end of it, refusing to let himself loose to make sure that you were completely taken care of.

But tonight it was you taking care of him. And you would not let him go until you had sucked him dry. Rubbing yourself against him, you let your hand into his hair and direct his mouth to your other breast, where he pressed his tongue against your curves, shifting the weight of them around. It was such a strange feeling to feel the very base of your boobs so affected by a simple, superficial teasing. It was like the motionless emptiness inside the vacuumed cup only found its true value when the flesh underneath it was moved, like the sudden rush of blood caused by movement was what kept the fire burning.

“I wanna taste you.” You murmured, your lips hovering over his.

“You wanna kiss me or…?” He asked, looking at you with hooded eyes. He looked beautiful and lustful.

You realised only in that moment that you hadn’t really kissed him, if not for small pecks and gentle brushing of lips. That you had been naked, fairly horny, in a bathtub for the last thirty minutes, and you hadn’t even kissed.

Cupping his cheeks, you dove for his lips, both your and his mouth hanging open waiting for your tongues to meet and intertwine. You pressed even harder into him, moaning as your tongue entered his mouth, giving a little flick with the tip to his lower lip before conquering the whole cavity of his cheeks and palate with wide, slow sweeps.

He reckoned none of his exes had ever kissed him like this. Like he was one of their possessions. Like he belonged to you and you were simply claiming your right to his mouth and every other part of his body.

You were the best kisser, especially with the way your hands moved on his face and hair and shoulders, kneading into the tense skin until he was like putty in your hands, until he was feeling nothing but the way you moved on his lap, your hips gyrating on him. “I want out.” He said, slightly drawing back from the kiss. “Let’s get out of the tub.”

You cupped his jaw and with your thumb, you played with his lower lip. How round and firm it felt, so plump and full. Ignoring him, you simply bent down and bit on it with small nibbles, using only your front teeth to test the density and texture of the flesh.

It was just inhumanely thick. You reluctantly parted from his mouth, looking him in the eye, only to move your gaze downward, to inspect how reddened and abused his lower lip looked after your rough treatment.

His hands slid on your wet skin, the water barely resisting his movements as he moved his hands from your waist to the small of your back, finally resting on your ass, gripping it aggressively. In reply, you bent to his neck, closing your lips around the indentation of his collarbone, feeling it with your teeth.

The breathy moan that resulted made you so proud — and so aroused.

“Let’s get out. I wanna...” He moaned as you wrapped your hands around his wrists, leading his palms to your breasts, silently telling him to go back to the gentle massage that complements the heaviness of your bosom and the suction on your nipples, now so acute that it almost resembled a pinching sensation.

You went back to his mouth, still grinding on him, just as he tightened the suction cups even harder on your left nipple, his large palm and fingers holding your flesh as he kept the cup firm with his thumb and forefinger, the other hand spinning the small screw increasing the pressure. “Too tight?” He asked on your lips.

You simply shook your head no, diving back to his lips.

He did the same on your other nipple, your lips parting in a shameless mewl as your clit rubbed with one perfect stroke against his shaft, running through the whole length of it. “Jin.”

“For the love of god, Angel. Please, let’s get out of here.” He spoke with a voice so gruff he had to clear up his throat before he could speak smoothly. “I can’t get inside you like this.”

You kept moving against him, hoping for some relief. “Please.”

He shook his head. “If you let go of me we can get out and do this properly. I can’t do what I want in here.”

“And what is it that you want?” You teased, your hands sliding down his chest and dipping underwater to toy with his hard sex.

“Let me go and I’ll show you.”

Pouting, a bit reluctant, you removed yourself from his lap, looking at him as he stood up in front of you. The position was interesting: you kneeling in the tub while he stood in front of you.

Your mind screamed blowjob and you had no reasonable counterarguments to that, still he stopped you with a hand to your cheek.

“Not here, love. Too risky.” He said, referring to the chances of slipping. He stepped out of the tub, his feet landing on the soft towel he had laid on the ground as he stretched to grab another towel to dry himself up.

Yes, you did stare at his ass as he did so, looking at the taut muscle of his glute and letting your eyes slide further down, to the straight column of his thigh.

As he stood up straight, he quickly dried himself wrapping the towel high on his waist, to try and hide his raging hard on, just a little. The lights of the bathroom were just a bit too bright and he felt a bit wary, even though he understood you had seen him naked and turned on so many times.

Noticing his discomfort you sauntered out of the tub, walking to the mirror and switching on the small light, shortly before heading to the door and switching off the light on the ceiling.

The atmosphere was suddenly completely different. It felt quiet and intimate. Right, even.

“Better?” You asked Jin, walking towards him.

He nodded with a grateful expression. “Yeah. Thank you.” He hugged you to him, frowning a bit at the sensation of the cups against his chest. “Do they hurt? Want me to take them off?” He asked, untucking the towel and looping it around the two of you, dragging you impossibly closer.

“No, I think I can handle it.” You replied. You weren’t new to nipple play. Jin simply loves playing with your tits and he had all kinds of vicious devices to do so, the suction cups being arguably his favourite. You knew that this was just the beginning: cups and clamps and tweezers were only a way of sensitising. This was a mere appetizer to the whole meal that was about to come. Once your breasts felt heavy, sensitive and delicate, he would feast on them, licking them, biting them and using his tongue to tease them as he sucked your pert nipples into his mouth with slow and strong drags. He would knead them, his big hands covering them entirely and squeezing them with attentive rolls of his fingers.

But for now he was simply staring at you, his eyelids low. He looked relaxed.

Your hands wrapped around his torso, slowly working their way down his back. “May I start with my gift?” You blinked at him seducingly as you tried to kneel, your hands reaching the upper curve of his behind.

“Wait. Your knees.” He said, blushing before helping you up, gently inviting you to join him on the small, plush rug in front of the sinks. “Here. It should feel better.”

You looked at him with glimmering eyes. “You just worried about my knees?”

He raised his eyebrows and nodded. “Isn’t that a given?” He asked, hesitant. “We can do it on the floor if you prefer.” He suggested, dubious.

You shook your head, smiling. “I just want to blow you ten times harder.”

He smirked, leaning against the counter and giggling as he observed you licking your lips and slowly lowering yourself on the carpet. Dragging your nails against his abdomen you checked on him quickly. “Is it too cold in here for you?”

Temperature always made him sensitive. “No, it’s nice.” He said, his hands combing your hair back as you kissed his thighs.

“Good.” You replied, your hand flying to his thick erection, swallowing his tip straight away.

“Warn me Angel, would you, goodness — Fuck!” He swore as you started bobbing your head straight away. You knew there was no way you could swallow him, so you simply focused on sucking him hard enough and using your hand to compensate for what your mouth couldn’t do.

Using your drool on him as lubricant, you dragged your palm around the base, wrapping your fingers around him, your thumb and middle fingers barely meeting, and tugging at him energetically, making the muscles of your hands twitch around him, trying to mimick the contractions of your cunt on him, going hard and fast straight away, your goal making him cum as many times as possible.

“Angel, love. Slow down, you’re gonna — Ah!” His sentence was interrupted by your hand coming to his balls, gently massaging them in an attempt to make him completely forget about words and anything that wasn’t your mouth on him.

You dared look up, his throat taut and his head thrown back in pleasure, his hips thrusting into you, his hands toying with your hair lovingly. “So good.” He said as you sank down some more on him, two thirds of him into your mouth. You lasted a couple more seconds before coming up for air.

“Is it relaxing enough?” You asked, extending the strokes of your hand to the tip, working your right thumb over the frenulum and the slit, rubbing it carefully while your left hand took care of the shaft.

He simply moaned in response, thrusting into your fist, patting your hair, trying to keep himself from leading your mouth back on him.

You smiled, “Has your birthday gift been satisfactory so far?” You asked with a grin.

“Absolutely.” He replied with his breathing ragged, his voice hoarse, his vowels dragged a bit long as he spoke slowly, carefully, struggling to put the syllables together.

“We’re all about customer satisfaction.” You replied, smiling innocently as he looked down at you. You licked your lips and kept the eye contact as you brought his tip to your mouth, smearing a small pearl of precum on the seam of your lips, before letting your tongue dart out and lick the salty liquid smeared on your lower lip. And next you licked him, noticing how his eyes blew wide with marvel and curiosity, only to flutter close with arousal and pleasure.

With renewed excitement you sank on him as far as it would go, knowing that even though you were paying attention he was too thick for your teeth not to get in the way with a gentle scratch. Still, you sucked him hard, until he reached the back of your mouth, almost choking on him when you went a bit too fast. Your eyes watered but you went on enthusiastically, helping yourself with your hand.

It was almost too easy. A small squeeze of his balls, matched with a tight downward thrust and his fingers curled into your hair, while the other hand flew away, gripping the sink hard to keep himself from pushing too deep into your mouth. With small, shallow thrusts — completely opposed to the sheer force and pressure he was exercising on his fists —, he fucked your mouth as gently as he could, in true gentleman fashion. No matter how crude and animalistic the action was, he managed to be so gentle throughout all of it, looking so beautiful as he slowly came undone, his legs giving out partly as you detached your mouth from him, only when he had spilt all he had. His knees gradually bent as he slid down against the counter and sank to the floor, on his knees, right in front of you.

His mouth joined yours absentmindedly for a couple kisses, tender and light. “Are you okay?” He asked, looking at your reddened eyes and flushed cheeks. He ran his thumbs down the wet tracks of your tears. “That was… excellent.” He said, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I need you to lay down, Angel.”

You looked at him, blinking blankly. “Here?” You asked.

He bent to kiss your neck, suckling at it a little. “Wanna move to bed?”

You shook your head. “I was just surprised.” Following his previous command, you sat on your hip and laid down, your back resting on the plush, cream rug, your legs bent and your knees placed together while the soles of your feet were still planted on the ground.

Crawling, he moved to your feet, holding your calves and making you part your legs.

Your eyes inspected his torso as he crawled on top of you. He bent down and kissed your forehead. “Is it cold?” He asked.

You shook your head.

Nice, he thought, sitting on his heels before his hands moved to your chest. “Let’s take these off, yeah?” He murmured gently as he unscrewed the system tightening the cup to your nipple before stretching to place it on top of the sink. He moved to the other breast, removing it faster this time, as if he were impatient. “Now let’s reward my little Angel.” He smiled at you kindly and that was the moment you knew you were done for. He was going to use you. He had that intense expression that always formed on his face when he played with you, using you for his pleasure. Scooting away from your inner thighs, he made space for his torso, looking at you as he licked a thick, slow stripe up against your slit, reaching your clit, sucking your arousal off your folds and into his mouth, savouring it with small, quiet clicks of his tongue against his palate. “I’m going to place it here.” He said, drawing a circle around your clit.

You nodded like a madwoman, lifting yourself onto your elbows to look at him as he parted your labia, drawing a loose spiral around your clit before placing the cup there, giving just a couple spins on the screw, leaving the pressure fairly mild, but still securing a solid grip.

The sensation was strange, like having your clit tugged but without being touched. Your hips shifted slightly as you got used to the feeling. “How is it?” He asked, attentive.

“Strange. New. Overall good.” You replied, offering him feedback.

“Good. Now, let me use these.” He murmured before placing his forearms beside each of your sides, leaning down to finally kiss your right nipple, then your left one, gingerly.

“Baby,” you moaned slowly, as he shifted his weight again, trying to find a comfortable position to free his hands and place them on you. Balancing his weight on his thighs, he finally managed to place his palms on the flushed skin of your chest, kneading the full curves of it, while his fingers tweaked the two peaks. “Seokjin.”

“Yes, my Angel?” He replied, softer now that you’d spoken his full name.

“It feels so good.” You murmured quietly, eyes closing as your inner muscles contracted, your clit responding to the suction and to the tightening of your inner walls.

“Keep touching them for me, will you, love?” He asked, at which you frowned, confused, almost ready to ask why when you noticed his hands moving to the suction cup, adding a couple spins before he placed his hands on his length.

“Is it okay?” He asked, giving a tentative pump.

Once more you tried lifting yourself up to look at him, your brow furrowing when you didn’t feel him entering you. He looked so beautiful, with his dark, thick eyebrows knitted together, quivering whenever a wave of pleasure rolled down his spine, making his hips undulate forward seducingly.

While your left forearm kept your torso up, your right hand was free to roam over your chest, massaging your right breast with slow tugs drawing all the blood to the peak, for which Jin bent down, his mouth eager to complete your hand’s ministration.

“I’m close again.” He said, with a half delighted, half desperate snicker. His mouth parted wider, his lips settling around your puffy areola, where the cup had left a slight indentation. Freeing your left arm from below you, you tried down as gently as you could.

“Cum on me.” You said, throwing your head back, showing him the fine column of your neck.

He kept rubbing his lips against your sensitive skin as he spoke. “We just washed, you sure?”

“We’ll need to rinse once we’re done with this just the same.” You replied, your hand dipping into his damp hair, pushing his mouth against your boob.

“I love you.” He mouthed before sucking your neglected nipple shortly but intensely. He struggled a bit as he straddled your waist. “I wanna...” He began, before you placed your hands on his hips, pushing him down, making him rest his ass on your stomach, his weight held up mostly by his thighs in an attempt not to squish you. Immediately you took his erection between your breasts, using the slight sheen of wetness left from the bath to help him slide. You knew you had little time before it dried up and everything got uncomfortable. Pressing your boobs together, you matched the long, powerful strokes of his hips, just as his moans started getting higher and higher in pitch, shorter and more desperate, the air in his lungs suddenly feeling not enough. His breath was so shallow when he thrusted out of the small cage of your breasts, his hand moving so, so fast before his left palm landed beside of your head, on the floor, holding him up as he came all over your breasts, whining weakly as he spilled messily, his release reaching your chin and cheek with the first spurt while the others landed more controlledly on your chest and stomach, his hand still milking his cock weakly before he stopped.

His eyes opened just in time to see you collect his cum from your cheek with your fingertip, his ears feeling very hot as you brought the liquid to your lips, cleaning your digit. Next, you lolled your tongue out, trying to reach for the rest of it on your chin and at the corner of your mouth.

Carefully, he tried to stand up, helping himself with the counter nearby. Once he was on his feet, as steady as he could be, he wet a corner of the towel under the tap, sitting at your side to clean you up.

“I’ll be very forward now, Angel.” He said, cleaning your cheek and your chin before moving down between your breasts, dabbing the towel against the stain before swiping away what was left. “I really wanna pound into you on this tiny rug in our lovely bathroom, but if you prefer, we can move to the bedroom anytime you want.” He explained.

You looked at him like you weren’t even sure it was your Seokjin kneeling at your side, your eyes wide as saucers. “Excuse me. You’re the same boy who thought that birthday sex was rose petals, champagne, silk sheets, dimmed lights and background music?”

It was his turn to stare at you with wide eyes. “Did you want that?”

He had fucked up. He was already thinking what to do to fix the situation, trying to imagine what he could do to offer you the whole—

“For the love of god, no. Rail me on the bathroom rug. Please.” You begged, wide eyed and needy, especially when — squeezing your thighs together — you were reminded of the accessory between your legs.

He laughed vivaciously before throwing the towel away, grabbing your knees and making you part them.

“You wanna be railed on the bathroom rug?” He asked, teasing you.

“Yes, sir.” You replied, playful, but also taunting his dormant dominant side.

“How naughty.” He said, splaying his hand on your crotch, his palm snug against your hole while his fingers parted around your clit, the cup sitting between his middle and ring finger. As he settled, kneeling between your bent legs, he applied some pressure, arousing you just like that. “Is that your idea of birthday sex? Getting railed?” He said.

He loved the word. Because it was literally that. Raw and crude and fast. And it drives you insane, which, subsequently, drives him insane.

“I forgot it’s your idea of any kind of sex.” His hand started sliding a few millimetres back and forth, mimicking the sensation of skin brushing against skin like when he moved into you, his pelvis stimulating the outer parts of your sex while his cock plunged deep into you, giving you something thick and long to squeeze with your inner muscles.

“Because you’re dirty like that, uh?” He asked, using his left hand to titillate the cup, the sudden movement causing your clit to shift and your kegels to twitch a few times.

“I’m your dirty angel.” You said, wetness pouring out of your cunt and meeting his palm, suddenly slipping against you.

“You are.” He murmured appreciatively. “Let’s see how long it takes for my Angel to get ready for me.” He said, placing his left forefinger on top of the screw of the suction cup and pushing it around, leading your clit in small circular movements, while his right fingers and palm retracted and, in one fine sleight of hand, his index and middle finger slipped inside you.

“Jin!” You screeched, the invasion too sudden and thorough.

“Don’t worry, my darling angel. I’m just warming you up.” He said with dark eyes, lifting an eyebrow before scissoring his fingers inside.

“So good.” You babbled, your eyes crossing and rolling shut, enjoying the tugging, sucking feeling on your clit, mixed with the slight circular tugs, and then the filling, pumping and spreading sensation of his fingers moving inside. “It’s too good.”

“I know, Angel.” He pressed a kiss to your knee. “It’s too good for little demons like you.” He tugged at the cup a couple times, until it miserably unlocked and fell off.

“No.” You cried out weakly.

“Oh, you prefer the cup to my mouth?” He asked, stopping his transition as he was trying to bring his head close to your lap.

“No. I want your mouth. Please. Use your mouth.” You begged, just as he grinned and bent down, catching your clit with his lips and licking it heavily. The wet feel of his tongue after the dry, vacuum feeling of the toy was exquisite.

“Just another finger, darling.” He said, extracting his digits and rubbing his ring finger up and down your slit, coating it in wetness before he pushed three together and placed them on your entrance, sliding them in slowly.

A slow, quiet cry accompanied his movement, from the moment he slipped the tip in to the moment his knuckles met your flesh. “There you go, Angel. Better get used to it, I’ll give you a couple minutes.” He warned you, before he began tentatively massaging your inner walls with his fingertips, with tiny pumping motions, while at the same time kissing the apex of your labia.

“In, please, now Jin.” You begged.

“You sure?” He asked, parting from your clit hesitantly.

You nodded energetically. “Please.” You repeated, parting your legs further.

Following your lead, he moved his forearm beside your head to prop himself up, his hand pulling out and landing on his erection. He hoped he would last just one more round. Doing multiples like this was not his thing anymore. He snickered.

“What is it?” You asked, looking up at him with a confused glance.

“Just considering that I’m not a teenager anymore. Three rounds is… wow. Long time no see.” He murmured, blushing a little, but still opening up about his fleeting thoughts.

You laughed underneath him. “Indeed.” You said. You considered things a little. “You need more time, love? It’s absolutely okay, you know? It’s late, you’re tired, it’s been a long day.” You said, trying to show him you understood him and there was nothing wrong.

“Don’t worry love,” He said, kissing your neck as he dragged his tip against your slit. “I’m not that old yet.” He said, smirking as he sank in with one slow, thorough stroke.

“Oh my god, Jin, yes.” You moaned as he bottomed out. His hand parted from his sex and reached your mouth, his wet fingers sliding past your lips and laying flat on your tongue. “To help you keep quiet.” He said, before he pulled out and slammed violently into you.

Your muffled cry echoed in the room as he stilled for a second, drawing out slowly before thrusting back in forcefully.

“Like this?” He asked, breath strained as he held himself up. “Wanna be railed like this?”

You shook your head no teasingly, at which he he removed the fingers in your mouth, letting you speak. “Faster, harder.”

He stared into your eyes as he was buried deep inside you. “Then you better keep quiet Angel, because I need both arms for leverage.”

You nodded.

“Legs around my waist, or bend them to your chest and spread them. You choose.” He suggested, settling in his position.

You crossed your ankles behind his back without second thought.

“You good like that, darling?” He asked, using his hand to cup your cheek, at which you nodded, observing his face, the way his hair had almost completely dried by now, how flushed he looked, how his eyelids looked heavy and his eyes lust fuelled and intense. You had no other adjective to describe them but ‘intense’.

“Yes, Jin.” You replied, anchoring your hands on his shoulders.

“Nice.” He said before giving a small stroke, drawing out only partly and then sinking in again.

You bit your lip and gave a small grunt.

“Love you, Angel.” He murmured, running his thumb against your cheekbone.

And like that, he gave up on his human side and set the beast free. His pace was wild, the crude sound of thighs meeting thighs, his crotch slapping against your lap and belly, your breasts bouncing wildly at each of his attacks.

It all unravelled quickly. The sense of fullness inside you and, at the same time, his cock stretching your walls repeatedly and furiously, punching your cervix, and rubbing against your g-spot so deliriously: it was all too much.

“Cumming. Jin, love, I’m— Please.” And with a broken plea you let yourself come undone for him.

And he resisted.

It was tough, but the two previous highs had somehow dulled the edge and he managed to outlive the tight squeezing of your inner muscles.

You were still fucked out when he decided to keep going, enjoying the tightness of your cunt after the orgasm, his hand connecting with the back of your knee, holding it up by his side as he pinned you down, studying your blissful expression before attacking his lips to your left nipple, sucking it. “Touch yourself.” He growled as he felt his end nearing.

“Too much.” You whimpered, screeching.

“Touch yourself.” He growled again, not allowing any opposition.

And like that you obeyed, crying out as your abused, sensitive clit was met by your digit, rubbing it weakly.

“Close. Make yourself cum, Angel.” He ordered gruffly, his voice hoarse and cavernous, oh so serious in his commandeering tone.

“Trying.” You replied, huffing out a stressed breath.

“Faster.” He said, hiking your leg higher up, bending it all the way to your shoulder.

You complied.

His teeth sank at the crook of your neck. “More.” He said, his hips moving in a harsh staccato, taking a small pause between one plunge and the next.

“Not cumming without you. Quick, Angel.” He growled.

He shifted his weight on his other arm, freeing his left and using it to help your other knee up to your shoulder.

His cock felt enormous inside you now that the bent legs made him meet the last few untouched spots inside your cunt. “Fuck, fuck Jin, quick.” You cried out, completely shocked by how deep you could feel it. He arched off of you, pressing even harder against your cervix.

He felt the shift immediately. The wetness left from your previous high and the tightness due to the new position made him shut his eyes tight.

“Jin, please. Hard and fast. please.” You cried out, desperate.

And he delivered.

You lasted maybe a minute before your eyes rolled shut, head thrown back, all your erogenous zones on fire. Your hand shot away from your clit, your breathing stopping out of the blue, your ears suddenly unsensitive to any stimulus, the twitching of your thighs and the trembling of your calves turning into an earthquake before stopping entirely. You froze.

And then Jin’s hand moved between your legs, rubbing your clit a few more times as he delivered the last few strokes, hard and punishing.

Crying out, you threw your hands against him, trying to remove him from your clit, but he fought harder, determined on seeing you toss and thrash below him.

Which you did.

The overstimulation was cruel and drew tears to your eyes, your mouth moving, forming words that your ears couldn’t fully comprehend as your legs shook violently again, your hands gripping his shoulders, sinking your nails in, before slapping at them.

You were just a body spasming against his. Nothing more.

You had no control over yourself.

And Jin hadn’t either.

You collapsed on the rug, trying to open your eyes in vain.

Jin’s body fell on top of yours, pulling out of you delicately. The moment he didn’t hear your protest, he worried. “You okay, my love?” He asked. “Too far?”

He only heard your small grunt.

That made him proud. Fucking you into complete exhaustion was yet a feat he had to accomplish. He could tick a new box on his list. Still, he had to check on you. “I need to hear your voice, my darling Angel.” He said urgently and sweetly.

“Jinnie?” You called weakly.

“Yes, love.” He replied, caressing your cheek.

“What…?” You asked.

“I think your nerves went in a bit of an overload.” He suggested, giggling. “You looked like you were feeling very, very good.”

“I was.” You moaned, wrapping yourself around him.

“Is it a good idea to get a quick shower before we go to bed?” He asked. “Are you feeling strong enough for that?” He asked you, kissing your mouth.

“I might need to move very slowly and be assisted through it.” You said before chuckling.

“Was it a nice birthday railing?” He asked, rolling on his side and sitting up. He was happy the bathroom had floor heating.

“Very nice.” You replied, sitting up yourself. Looking down you bit your lip. “We’ll have to wash the rug.”

He shrugged. “Later. Now let me take care of my little freak.”

And just like that, you were in the shower, washing it all off before he carried you to bed.

He wasn’t sure what made it work, but he did feel relaxed. Accomplished even. He had had beautiful, kinky, rough sex with his girlfriend, with no sense of guilt, no pent up anger, no hard feelings. He felt like he wasn’t really sleeping with you in your room. He felt like you and him were floating on cloud nine, bathing in warmth and moonlight.

It felt like poetry.

He kissed your temple and settled you in front of him, spooning you. “Goodnight, my Angel.” He mouthed against your neck.

You snuggled into his embrace. “Happy late birthday, baby. Goodnight.”

#Seokjin fanfiction #jin fanfiction #seokjin smut #seokjin x reader #bts smut #bts fanfiction #bts smut blog #bts fanfic #kim seokjin x reader #bts Jin x reader #jin smut #jin x reader

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whitherliliesbloom · 3 years

Text

fate matrix

[ ffxivwrite2021 ] ★ [ masterlist ] ★ [ prompt #05 (free) - fate ]

[ alphinaud/wol & cameos and mentions of some friend ocs, you’re gonna have to read to find out who :) ] ★ [ 5,241 words (oof) ] ★ [ fate matrix au ]

fate: be destined to happen, turn out, or act in a particular way

in a world where the hands of destiny are ones and zeros, at the center of the matrix was a little goddess who would soon find out that she too, isn’t immune to the pull of fate

Day ???? | 07:07am | Day of Destined Meetings

An alarm rings, beeping in an increasingly loud volume as the monitors begin booting up. As light from the screens flood the room, the sound of cotton ruffling can be heard, followed by a soft little yawn.

The girl stirs, clutching at her duvet for warmth before her eyelids flutter open. Bright violet eyes stare up at the ceiling, where the patches of glow up star stickers have lost their radiance in the midst of the fluorescent bulb lighting up. Blinded momentarily, she grimaces, before rolling onto her side and sitting up.

“Good morning, alpha.” A melodic voice chirps out merrily from her parted lips, and she raises a hand to pet the head of the stuffed chocobo that she had been laying beside. “It’s time for work again, huh?”

Stretching her arms high above her head with a final, long yawn, the girl shuffles over to the minibar that was tucked under the table, pulling the door open before grabbing a small tub of yoghurt and peeling it open to peer inside curiously.

Oh, it’s strawberry today, how wonderful! Whoever or whatever magical force is behind stocking up the minibar seems to be in her favor this morning.

Grateful now for her breakfast, the girl slides over to the front of the bed, and places her hand on the mouse after taking a spoonful of the yoghurt into her mouth.

System booting... Please enter password. >illyaskawi03112 Log in successful. Fatematrix.exe starting. Welcome, Alice.

The monitors that surround her begin loading up window tabs after window tabs - and at the center on her main monitor, a sizeable grid of glowing icons pop up, along with a smaller, more discreet window showing a map tucked away at the corner of the screen.

Visual stimuli overload aside, the girl seemed to be completely unphased as she bites into yet another scoopful of yoghurt before setting the tub next to her white keyboard, as if this were a scene she’s had to see countless times now.

It’s a routine, a well rehearsed routine that the girl effortlessly goes through the motions of daily. The fate matrix is ever in need of use and she, the center of it all, was more than happy to take control.

That is, after all, the will of her late mother... the previous Alice and goddess of the fate matrix. It is simply her duty to carry on in her legacy. And as per her duty, she begins to spin the wheel of fate, clicking on the very first icon that boots up the fate matrix’s tool assistant. A bright blue pop up appears that the girl drags to the side, and text begins to appear.

Good morning, Alice. Today is a day of destined meetings. I would suggest working on getting soul mates together for the day.

Internally, Illya is delighted. Soul mates were one of her favorite types of work to focus on... and though they were rarely ever more urgent than other types of assignments like accident prevention, weather management or economic balance, it was one that often brought her a great amount of joy.

After all, what was sweeter than nudging two souls who were meant for each other closer? It was the very concept of soul mates, and the tales of the red thread of fate after all, that drew her mother into the concept of fate and caused her to develop the fate matrix.

A soft smile graces her features, and she moves her cursor to click on the second icon, which loads for a second before breaking apart into smaller, glowing dots that scatter across the map - with two dots that indicated soul mates being linked by a dotted line.

Time to get to work!

01:46pm

When Illya clicked on the glowing two red dots upon the map, she hadn’t expected to be shown live footage of the two targets in the very same room.

It’s not uncommon for soul mates to have already met each other, or even be familiar with one another already despite not having made their feelings for each other known yet... but they were cases that were, in Illya’s experience, a little more difficult to work on.

It was easy to nudge two strangers in the same direction or plant small, innocuous thoughts that would help draw two acquaintances into wanting to spend more time with their soul mate. It was far more difficult to convince stubborn people who have, despite many fateful circumstances, refused to confess their feelings to the object of their confession.

After all, the fate matrix was capable of many things - but controlling or taking over the will of people was not one of them.

Illya has convinced two stubborn souls to finally open up in the past though, she was certain she could do so again - she did so with the likes of the two childhood friends, Moth’ir and Thancred... a case which she would never in a million years soon forget... or the infuriatingly obstinate refusal of a pink haired miqo’te girl to confess to her close friend and personal trainer, Haurchefant Greystone... who had been more than obvious with his flirtations for years.

Alice, you have yet to eat your lunch. A quick break is highly suggested.

The tool assistant sends a reminder through a text in it’s window, which Illya is swift to ignore. She can eat once she’s done with this case.

She watched through the monitor as the pair sat on the couch, a girl with straight cut bangs and piercing red eyes lounging lazily with her back propped against the arm rest and her legs laid over her taller, lankier male friend, who seemed to be frustrated at the girl’s refusal to pay him any attention.

“Why invite me over if you’re just going to play your game?”

“Hmph! Says the guy who invited me over to his place only to kick me out halfway through because some of his friends were going to pay him a surprise visit!”

The man lets out a hefty sigh.

“I already apologized for that. And that was over a week ago. Are you seriously still-”

“Yes, yes I am!” Without even looking up from her smartphone, the girl lets out a dramatic huff while admonishing her friend. “I don’t get why you’re so adamant about me not meeting your friends. Why, are you scared they’ll misunderstand and think I’m your girlfriend?”

“That’s- That’s not-”

From the heartrate monitor, Illya can tell that was only part of the reason for his behavior. The true reason, and an explanation that the girl understood full well why he would refuse to tell his friend was written in text in a separate window next to his heartrate monitor.

The girl, Totomi Tomi, or better known by her stage name as Mint, was something of a minor celebrity on the internet. Known for her jovial personality and the many covers of vocaloid songs she posted on her well known eorzeatube page, it wouldn’t be a stretch to call her an idol - even if she wasn’t officially acknowledged or employed as one by some idol management company. Her friend, Estinien, and the object of her very strong feelings towards, had friends who were apparently fans of hers.

It was for that very reason that, for her protection and to spare her the oogling of strangers, that he’d kept his friendship with the young idol a secret from others.

In his eyes, perhaps dating her would be the quickest way to convince his friends to back off... but that would only come after they’d confessed their feelings - which they haven’t.

“That’s not important.” Estinien finally retorts after stumbling after his words for a moment, and Illya has to resist the urge to slam her head against the keyboard.

“Ohhhh... Kay.” Mint rolls her eyes, Illya mirrors the action.

What Illya doesn’t anticipate however, is Estinien’s next words, for as bold and uncharacteristic for an emotionally closed off man such as him.

“Why? Are you disappointed? You almost sound like you want to be known as my girlfriend.”

Mint chokes on her spit, sputtering and gurgling out incomprehensible words until she recovers - but only barely... and now with a dark red blush plastered over her freckled cheeks.

“I-In your dreams, maybe!” Her blatant lie is apparent to all but... the ones who are present in the room. “Besides, I already have someone I like!”

“Oh?” Illya can hear the sheer contempt from her headphones, and she grimaces at the man’s deep frown. “Do tell, who is it?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, dunderhead!”

“Tell me. I’m curious.”

“Nope nope nope nope nope noppetty nope! Why’d you think I would ever tell you, huh??”

Mint sticks her tongue out at the man, who scowls deeper and nudges the woman’s legs off of his lap.

“Fine. How about a bet then.”

“What bet?”

The man points to the phone she has in her hands.

“Since you’re so fond of your gacha games, and you’re always bragging about how good your luck is, why don’t we make a bet using your game?”

Snatching the phone out of Mint’s hand despite her protests, Estinien taps on the settings button before clicking on the gacha button, the screen switching to the current limited rate up banner of a popular event character.

“If you get a character of the highest rarity within 50 draws, you have to tell me who your crush is.”

“W-why would I even agree to that?? I’ve been saving my primos for Xi-Ao you know?!”

“I’ll pay for your pulls. It’s a win-win for you that way, no? You get free pulls from the game, I get to know who your crush is if you get a shiny new character.”

Mint pulls back, hesitant and suspicion clear in her eyes, but still enough to hint at consideration.

“And what’s in it for me? What if I do pull a 5 star character?”

After much consideration, Estinien responds once more.

“I’ll let you whale for whatever character you want next on my credit card. And I’ll cosplay with you at the next convention.”

At the condition of his loss set, Mint’s face lights up with pure elation, as she snatches her phone back from her friend with a cheeky grin on her face.

“Deal! You’re so going to lose, long bean! My luck in Genshin Impact’s second to none! I can’t wait to make you cosplay sailor moon!!”

An equally devious smile spreads across the face of Alice, whose hands are swift to pull up another window tab reserved specifically for video game and gambling luck.

She has always admittedly been favorable and gracious in giving out good draws to people who deserve it - the program she has running in the background is testament to that... And she has no doubt in her mind that the fate matrix has been generous in it’s givings to Mint, if her boastings are anything to go by.

Mint must thusly, be a good person.... and she deserves a fate more fulfilling than virtual characters on a screen.

The girl must truly feel confident in herself, as she hits the draw x10 button without a single hesitation.

Illya begins typing the code into the new window, and sympathy wells in her heart as she hears Mint huff in minor disappointment.

“Only one 4 star? Eh, it’s just a fluke, I have 40 more pulls and I’m close to soft pity too!”

“Good luck.” Estinien chuckles mockingly, and Mint lets out a growl before pressing on the draw x10 button again.

Nothing. The third ten pull is no better - with nothing but a single 4 star weapon to show for her efforts. Mint is evidently getting more nervous as her finger shakes, pressing down on the button that will decide her fate for the fourth time.

She was so certain she’d get a 5 star by now - she normally gets what she wants within the first thirsty pulls, and it’s a normal occurrence to even pull multiple 5 stars within the same roll... So... why?

Her 40th pull ends with two 4 star characters, a sight better than the ones before... a sign of Illya’s pity on her... but still not a condition for her win.

“Oh, someone’s getting nervous.” Estinien smirks, “You’re on your last pull away from telling me who you have a crush on.”

“H-hah! That’s where you’re wrong!” Mint exclaims, jabbing a finger at him. “The chances of getting a 5 star increases with each pull, so i’m almost a hundred percent certain I’ll get one this time!”

Mint’s heartrate monitor is going off the charts, and Illya has to intervene by lowering her vitals enough so she wouldn’t pass out from sheer nervousness. It does little to hide it from Estinien, however, who could only relish every second of Mint’s rapidly darkening blush as she finally taps on the draw x10 button one final time.

The shooting star across the screen flickers, before bursting into a shade of pink that has Mint leaning back with mouth agape, a mixture of sheer shock and terror on her expression.

Hopelessness is all she feels as she taps, taps and taps, and the roll summary page shows naught but a single Benny - the unluckiest character in the game, grinning widely at her.

“Well, well, well. Looks like I won.” Estinien sounds way too casual and smug, unaware of the monumentally immense amount of bad fortune that had just befallen his friends. “As per our deal, you’re going to have to tell me who your crush is.”

Illya feels sorry for her meddling, and she makes a mental note to herself to bless Mint’s future rolls with as many of the highest rarity characters she could possibly afford to give without breaking the laws of probability too much... but when Mint finally breaks out of her stutter and sets her phone down on her lap, hands grasping so tightly at the hem of her skirt that her knuckles turned white, the girl knew that she’d dealt the woman a hand far kinder than if she had not.

“I-It’s...... It’s you, okay?”

07:32pm

Alice it is time for dinner. The curry will get cold if you leave it out for too long.

Illya’s tendency to ignore the tool assistant in regards to her own wellbeing was concerning, but not an anomaly. In fact, it was far more rare for the text in the pop up to be spared more than a single second’s glance from her.

Whether it was reminders for her to eat, for her to sleep early, to hydrate or to stretch after hours hunched over her keyboard in front of glaringly bright monitors for a good whole of her day, the tool assistant’s well meaning messages would always go ignored.

It’s a natural part of it’s program, Illya tells herself, as she filters through lists of finished cases before moving on to pending ones. Much like the fate matrix, that ran on a code that was, in admittance, far more complex than even she could fully comprehend... the tool assistant ran on code. It was an artificial intelligence her mother had created during her last few months of life, something that, according to the note left in the hard drive of the fate matrix, would help Illya better slip into her role as adjudicator of fate.

She’d remembered when she first awoke in this room and on the bed, not having any recollection of how she’d even arrived in the first place. The momentary panic and confusion had been replaced with a sense of obligation... of duty and honor when she booted up the computer for the first time to be greeted with the words from the tool assistant - as well as a lengthy message from her late mother.

We who do not belong to the realm of mortals... we who possess the blood of fate. We bear the burden of watching over the world and making sure that it is a safer, happier, better place for everyone. Only you alone can take possession of the fate matrix in my stead, and I pray you’ll forgive me for not being able to say goodbye to you in person.

Family meant the world to Illya, it has ever been that way. She spent a good amount of her childhood in the company of her parents, with little understanding of the world beneath. She had no concept of the idea of fate, of how destiny was dealt... only that her mother had a significant role to play, and that her time with her family was soon to be cut short by a crippling, unkind illness that not even the fate matrix could undo.

Illya’s never tried stepping out of her room before. She has always assumed that it exists in some kind of void or overworld that overlooked the mortal realm. It mattered not, really... The only thing important was that mother had left this place behind, and wanted her only daughter to inherit her role as Alice.

It was with that responsibility in mind that drove Illya to stay seated in front of the monitors for as long as she has.

Time is no longer being a concept, the rising and falling of the sun no longer visible to her eyes aside from a arbitrary number on the clock that served more as a timer for how long she has left to work until exhaustion would consume her.

Do you not wonder what it’s like to have friends, Alice?

Recently, however the tool assistant has been sending her more and more pointless questions... questions that went far beyond the daily self-maintenance reminders that she could understand her mother programming in for her wellbeing, questions aimed to be poignant and was targeted to making her feel more isolated and alone than it did help. It was bordering on annoyance.

You could leave this room any time you wanted.

And why would she do that? She murmured to herself as she typed in code to program a heavy storm, forcing a raven haired lalafellin man to offer his umbrella to his soul mate who had been stranded under a lone busstop - a pink haired woman with olive green eyes who seemed utterly smitten with him upon first sight.

Her purpose was here, to take control of the fate matrix, to grant happy memories, to save lives, to fulfill wishes and dreams. There can be no greater and heavier responsibility to bear in the world.

Truthfully, the reason why Illya stayed at first had solely because of her mother’s wishes... But now, it was more than that.

Because the idea of separating herself from the fate matrix... and not being able to grant the kindness of fate that so many people in the world deserved... it was a pain that was worth her own sense of self.

Are you not lonely? Do you not want someone to love you?

Why did it matter if she was lonely? The envy and curiosity she feels upon watching a group of friends hanging out together is nothing in comparison to the pain mortals felt from a love unrequited, or a loved one losing their life.

She taps furiously on a historian with bright red hair and eyes, forcing him to get a wardrobe malfunction that would push him to visit a tailor where an impish lalafellin fashion designer with snow white freckles awaited him with choice words of ridicule. She tips over a telephone pole that causes two surf shop co-owners who were on a road trip to park by the roadside so that they may witness a falling star, wishes made leading to their confession. She painstakingly guides a woman with silver hair and golden yellow eyes towards a drycleaner, where she initiates easy banter with a man who she later finds out was her old schoolmate.

Juno and Ysayle, Bianca and Varis, Niqesse and Zenos, Nowi and June. She remembers the soul mates she pushes together by name, and treasures the happiness they are sure to feel from their memories as if they were her own.

Detached from their world she may be, it is through the fate matrix that she can experience a sliver of their joy and love... even if it is for a fleeting moment before she must move on to the next.

11:17pm

One more assignment, she tells herself, eyes bloodshot and fingers sore from typing. One more case and she’ll eat before going to bed. She has done much for the day as it is... but she cannot rest until she’s closed one particular case that has her vexed for the entire day.

A pair of glowing purple dots that has been plastered on the map since morning has her thoroughly vexed... because for some reason or another, she cannot seem to gather information on one half of the pair.

She’s able to view the other half just fine - a dashing young man who seemed to be a senior in university despite his age, having skipped two grades due to his academic prowess. He is incredibly gifted, possessing not only of superior intellect but also an artistic hand and charismatic demeanor that makes him quite popular at his school.

But no matter how much she clicked on the other purple dot, or made futile attempts to manually search for data on his other half, nothing would show up. No windows, no tabs... What was even more perplexing was that the dot hadn’t moved on the map at all.

Illya had paid especially close attention to the purple dots ever since she’d found this anomaly in the fate matrix... she was certain she would have noted movement if there had been any at all.

But whereas the icon of the boy had understandably been moving throughout the city of Sharlayan, the icon of his mysterious other half hadn’t, laying stagnant on a singular point of the map in the middle of what appeared to be an old apartment complex.

It was as if his soul mate just... didn’t exist at all.

The boy didn’t have any romantic feelings for anyone, nor did it seem like there was anyone at his school that would have an attachment to him that extended beyond admiration or a short-term attraction, which she’s long learned to tell apart from genuine love. If the tool assistant had a text saying that her target simply did not have a soul mate at all, she’d have been inclined to believe it.

But the other purple dot that connected to his does not lie. If he didn’t have a soul mate, his icon wouldn’t be connected to the other. Her tool assistant wouldn’t have told her, very deliberately she may add, that he did in fact have a soul mate and that it was imperative for her to unite them.

But how was she to make two people meet when she could not even tell who the other was? It was the first time Illya’s wondered if there was even any point to her efforts.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, then. It may be unnatural for a piece of note to fall from the sky, but it was perhaps her final chance to get the boy to meet his soul mate before the opportunity would be lost forever.

Assignments from her pending window are known to disappear all of a sudden, and soul mates who were attached and at their prime for a fated meeting for the moment often times disappear from the map entirely... a tragedy as a result to the slipping of time that the fate matrix cannot rectify... and she’d be damned if she let it happen to this case just because of a simple glitch.

The boy, Alphinaud Leveilleur, star student of the nation’s most prestigious academy, had been walking home from his late night seminars. His position was unnervingly close to where his soul mate is, and since she could not think of any way she could naturally nudge him in the direction of the apartment complex, she writes a note posing as his soul mate and drops it from the sky.

“W-what in the twelve?”

The boy catches it in mid-air, looking at the haphazardly scribbled words on the paper.

PLEASE HELP ME. I’M BEING HELD AGAINST MY WILL. I’M BEING TRAPPED AT _______________

She made the handwriting disorderly intentionally... just to sell the idea of a person being trapped better, of course. She’d even slathered on a small smudge of blood on the corner of the note to make it more convincing... and it seemed to have done the trick as the boy widens his navy blue eyes in alarm, head turned up in the direction of the apartment complex he stood next to.

Illya can tell he has his doubts, and she doesn’t blame him... It’s suspicious enough that the call for help would just so conveniently fall towards him as he was walking past... but he’s never known any criminal activity to have taken place in that apartment complex - Sharlayan is relatively safe compared to it’s neighbor, Mor Dhona.

A few simple thoughts however, might just do the trick into getting him to spring into action.

Injecting into his mind, Illya types out frantically into the text box for thought processing.

What if this is real? What if there really is someone in need of rescuing and I just walked by without helping them? What if they appeared on the news tomorrow? I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself. What if... what if this note really is fate?

She’s preying on his upright and morally upstanding character, she knows that... and it never feels good to take advantage of a objectively good person’s kindness... But her determination to grant him lifelong happiness wins as she watches through the live feed the as the boy clutches onto the note close to his chest and begins to run into the carpark of the apartment complex before heading inside.

Zooming into the map, she sees that her target is taking the lift up to the highest floor, his heartrate skyrocketing at an alarming pace as she panics for a moment and has to manually adjust it back down. He’s nervous... and she must admit that she is too.

When he leaves the lift, his footsteps are unsteady and hesitant... But a few more encouraging thoughts was enough to get him to push forward until he’s standing in front of a door - the only door on the last floor of the complex, as it would happen.

Illya tries to look into the room, but the window that pops up is but a single black screen that has her sighing. No matter. The fact that there even was a window in the first place is progress.

She’s gotten this far into leading him here... all he has to do is open the door where his other half is sure to be on the other side.

The boy tries to twist open the door knob, the metal rattlingly noisily in Illya’s headphones. But it doesn’t budge or give way.

Figures that it’d be locked. How is she supposed to lead him inside? She can’t ring the doorbell because, for as odd as it is, there is none... and she cannot pull up any information on his soul mate, let alone inject into thoughts into their head to open the door. It’s far too suspicious to drop the key to the door right in front of him.

With each second that passes, it seemed like the boy was letting his doubts begin to sway his decision to stay more and more... and Illya’s heart drops into the pit of her stomach when she sees the boy begin to step away from the door and reaching into his bag for his phone, a thought bubble popping up above him.

I should call the police, instead...

“No! You mustn’t!” Illya yells out by instinct.

“Huh???” the boy’s eyes widen once more, and to Illya’s utter confusion, he bolts forward and is now banging his fist against the door. “Hello?! Are you okay?! If you’re in there and you need help, please say something again!”

He must’ve heard a voice.... Illya mused, eyes glistening with intrigue... her voice. Did her mic turn on by accident? Or perhaps she’d projected her voice onto the door out of instinct. She wouldn’t be surprised if she did... but the most important thing is that it worked, and it got the boy to stay.

“Y-yes! I’m... I’m in here!” Illya responds, intentionally letting out sobs into her microphone this time, “p-please help me... I-I’m really hurt and I don’t know when they’ll get back!”

Alphinaud’s heartrate is beating faster than it’s ever had before... and Illya makes no attempts to lower it as she watches the boy grit his teeth and set his bookbag down.

“A-alright! Stand back! I’ll try to knock the door down!”

Good thinking, Illya hums to herself in silence. The door seems old and rickety on its own... unless his soul mate has very deliberately barricaded the inside, there shouldn’t be any reason why he’d not be able to knock it down.

The boy begins to slam his torso into the door, pulling himself back before once more rushing into the door, and the sound of banging fills Illya’s headphones. It’s oddly loud and deafening... but she makes no attempts to lower her volume as she grips the edge of her keyboard in anticipation.

“Don’t worry miss! Just a bit more! I’ll get you out, I promise!”

His sincerity touches her... and though it is wholly unnecessary, Illya is moved to speak into the mic once more... and her words causes a surge of renewed energy to flow through him.

“Yes! I believe in you! I’m waiting!”

Illya has never known what the outside of her room looked like... nor the time or space that occupied it. It was never necessary, she’d convinced herself... She was simply content with watching the outside world through the lens of the fate matrix while playing the ultimate puppet master.

She has never smelled the outside air, never seen the light of the sun, never once touched the hands of another... not since she arrived here.

When the door to her room clattered noisily onto the ground, so loudly that she could not chalk it up to being a result of the projection in her headphone, the girl spun around... and stared with wide, bewildered and confused eyes at the boy in front of her - clear without the pixels of the screen obscuring him... clear and oh so very real.

Beads of sweat trickling down his brows from exertion... his usually neat fitting uniform disheveled from strain...

And in his clear blue eyes was the reflection of herself, staring back at her as if they were a window to her future.

“Y-you.... you are....?”

The tool assistant of the fate matrix sends another text, which goes unread and ignored by Alice once again.

You watch over the fate of others. But even you aren’t immune to the hands of fate.

#ffxiv #final fantasxy xiv #ffxivwrite2021 #ffxivwrite #kiwisffxivwrite2021 #alphinaud leveilleur #alphinaud #illya skawi #we've come so far #fanfic #mine #lots of cameos and mentions of friends but i'm not gonna list em all out here kek #holy fuck this turned out longer than i expected #and i already had to cut down a lot of this fic!!!#Like... i planned to expand each friend ship into their own dedicated segment but #it got too detailed and bleh

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shimmershae · 3 years

Text

Just a few random thoughts and observations about Daryl’s Origins episode.

Basically my stream of consciousness bullshit brought over from Twitter, lol. I almost didn’t watch the episode after seeing all the drama over there, but ultimately I decided to because frankly? I don’t trust certain fans’ perceptions of events. For reasons. It’s best, I feel, to always watch with your own eyes and form your own independent opinions because this fandom is teeming with people that delight in tormenting other fans by being very selective and oftentimes downright misrepresentative about what they pass along.

More under the cut because this is random and all over the place and basically excerpts of my live blogging while watching the special. Did I mention it’s random?

You know. It sure would be nice not going into one of these things so apprehensive. Maybe one day, hmm?

First things first. From the very beginning of this Origins episode, I’m reminded of two things: 1). Our introduction to Daryl, his colorful Dixonese, and his particular brand of humor certainly stands out as one of show's more memorable introductions. 2). TWD certainly regressed on the deer front. I mean. Daryl's deer>Richonne's deer.

I’m never going to get over "On Golden Pond." Never ever and look. I actually liked Dale but Daryl spitting those words at him still makes me laugh until I'm weak.

Daryl's still searching all these years later. Or is he? Really? Seems to me the man's found exactly what he's been looking for and he's been chasing it since he came back from those woods: a future with his soulmate. The one that happens to be his best friend. OFC, I’m talking about Carol. Who else?

How pretty and soft are baby Daryl and Carol? Too pretty and soft for this tired heart to withstand. Like I love all versions of them, but baby Daryl and Carol just hit different.

My immediate thought re: the Beth comment-- Misreads the situation? WTF? Whoever wrote this script just had to re-inject some eww into the narrative didn't they? All those damn dirty spoons. Ever think about how much it probably reeks in that office space?

Moving along, though. Here’s some real facts. Carol is so intrinsically woven into the fabric of Daryl's story, the only way she can be removed is if they are literally both destroyed and cease to exist. Something happens to Carol? The man is going to be a reanimated body without a heartbeat. Basically a Walker.

An aside, I know they're not making me rewatch a scene I haven't watched since the first time it aired. The way Negan's head bashing tendencies had me seeing red and wanting that barbed wire bat shoved up his ass every time I saw his face. My JDM love really took a serious hit for awhile. I'm never going to forgive the character that hateful act. I just can't.

Somehow I wasn't expecting this to be a teleprompter-fest. Like who wrote this script? Hmm. Sorry. Don't mind me. Lost in my thoughts per usual. You know. It still strikes me as hella insensitive that Rick had Daryl leading the Sanctuary community knowing what he suffered there. There's no way Daryl would have returned that kind of favor.

Yep. Leah still feels tacked on last minute. A means to an end. Sigh. They completely glossed her over here. Too bad they had that lapse in judgment with some other toxic waste. I cannot believe they touched that with a ten foot pole. It's just cringe-worthy and wrong.

"Daryl can't say no to Carol." They say those words and I’m like “Join the club, my dude. Join the club, lol.”

You know. All the Carol-related moments in this Daryl Dixon recap speak for themselves. She's his person, dammit.

Okay though. That reunion in the tall grass with the sun shining on them all golden and picturesque, after Alpha’s taken Daryl to show him her horde? That's some romance novel shit right there. "Look at me. Just look at me." I'm never going to recover from that moment or the discovery of Sophia. They break my heart so.

This recap is literally 2/3's Carol and the other 1/3 Rick and everybody else. I mean. It's so obvious. Utterly and completely misrepresented by some agenda-driven folks.

"We have a future." Oh. Just some pretty, meaningless words you say everyday to all your friends, lol. Just friends my whole entire ass.

"I'm never gonna hate you." Okay, AMC. Back up all the talk with some action that even the most willfully blind cannot deny, m'kay? Because they're not going to buy it until you're explicit about it. Just saying.

The amount of times "Carol" has left this man's mouth during this recap, lol, and some people keep wanting to ignore it.

Aww. Guess who they showed when Daryl mentioned family? How sweet. And when they mentioned purpose in connection with C0nnie, it was not any indication of romance, IMHO.

Let me explain.

By the time C0nnie is lost, Daryl’s floundering because he feels he hasn’t been able to help Carol despite giving it all and pushing back his previously established comfort zone(s). Enter these pair of sisters. And they put him in mind of the good parts of him and Merle. Probably they make him remember the Greene girls when things were good and hopeful before they went sideways. In some small way, he’s probably reminded of other family units like Rick and Carl and Lori and Carol and Sophia and later Henry. And all of those people have something in common. Well, besides being people Daryl has known and cared for. They’ve seen their family units fractured and/or destroyed by tragedies wrought by the world they live in. They made a point and emphasized that Daryl’s a searcher and also that family matters to him. In some way or form he’s been doing his best to help repair or reunite all these different family members since the beginning and ultimately he’s failed to succeed each time. So yeah. He’s been given a purpose in a time of uncertainty again with her because this time he’s determined to get it right. This time he wants to bring the two sisters back together the way he couldn’t do for the Greene girls. Like I did not, do not read anything romantic at all into that comment. Just my take on things. Obviously, everyone else’s mileage may vary. I’ll step off my soapbox now. Hopefully, maybe these words might comfort.

So relax, lovelies. It wasn't as bad as I feared. Sure, they could have left that one icky comment out but they didn't and honestly? I don't think it's a positive for that particular 'relationship' because it's something that's brought up to show just how messed up Daryl was. Because grown men that have their heads on straight don't usually have those type of misreads. They know they are inappropriate. Like I'm not putting Daryl into the pedo category because I don't feel like he belongs there. But I can see how him being so emotionally stunted and naive so far as interpersonal relationships and the nuances of friendship and non-toxic family could lend itself to him maybe reading more into those moments than were really there and not really knowing how to deal.

Whoever wrote that teleprompter script though? That particular asshole is probably grinning like a donkey with a mouth full of briars at all the unnecessary drama they stirred up yet again. Like newsflash, goober. There are better ways to foster interest in your show.

They should hire a team of fans to do the promotion. Fans that represent all factions of this fractured fandom so the promotion is well-rounded and not so heavily slanted toward any one of them but the diverse fandom as a whole.

Stop fanning the stupid ship wars and just celebrate the damn characters and the overall story. Nothing new or groundbreaking to see on this first Origins story but hey. Who doesn't mind a decent recap now and then? That said, don't sweat not having AMC+ or feel like you missed all that much because you didn't.

I do have to say. Them pretending B3th was the first girl to be nice to Daryl really had me going WTF.

I mean, there’s this little exchange from Carol, the first woman to be nice to Daryl, probably the first person from the group--

"You're every bit as good as them. Every bit."

AMC? TWD? Do you even watch your own show?

There you have it. My bullshit stream of consciousness, originally posted over on Twitter as I liveblogged the show. Hope you got something helpful or of entertainment value from this.

Goodnight, lovelies.

Until next time.

#The Walking Dead #The Walking Dead: Origins #Daryl Dixon #things that make me smile and cry #for reasons

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holy-ghost-fire · 2 years

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This is a little different but this song means a lot to me. However, its significance goes beyond what the lyrics mean and more towards what it meant in the context that I heard them. I got sick with COVID a few months back and the way it resonated with me was deeply powerful. "All messed up with nowhere to go I stare at myself in the mirror alone It's hard to make friends when you're half in the grave But I ain't dead yet And I've got something to say" Quarantining was really difficult for me. I leave my home a lot to be with friends or just relax at a coffeeshop. Being confined in my room all alone and separated from my friends for what felt like an eternity was mentally and emotionally challenging. I felt like a ghost because, for all intents and purposes, I was.

I got COVID at a really miserable time. I was very unhappy where I was living and working hard to finish my thesis in time to defend before the deadline. I lost my advisor during the editing process and only a few days later, I tested positive for COVID. Still, I felt a hope within to keep on persisting through life. I couldn't give up, not now when I was so close. My thesis meant a lot to me, and I had to make sure I could get it out to the world. "You got holes in your clothes And booze on your breath You look like hell And you smell like death" COVID has a knack for making small things feel even worse than they are. I got COVID at the same time that I was planning on buying a new pair of shorts. The previous pairs that I wore were old and had holes in them. Because I couldn't go out of my room, all I wore were those hole riddled shorts. It drove me crazy because all I wanted to do was just buy some new ones.

With COVID, it mostly manifested as sickness in my nose that permeated through my sense of smell and taste. I couldn't smell or taste anything but every breathe I took tasted and smelled like sickness. It reminded me of all the times that I got so drunk that I could taste and smell the alcohol on my breath.

Because I was quarantining, I didn't bother with my appearance at all. I wore the same few pairs of shirts and shorts throughout the whole ordeal. I couldn't smell, but I bet my room smelled awful seeing as how I was cooped up in there for days. "There's a stranger in my eyes again I swear to God I don't know him You're tired of me I'm tired of you So turn around and leave me to myself" I'm a very introspective person. I sometimes stare at myself in the mirror, not because I like how I look but because there's a strangeness in seeing my reflection. COVID was something I went through by myself and being left with my own thoughts was tiring. I felt like I confronted a different side of myself through the quarantine, all while feeling like I just wanted to leave and be with people. "I've been out way too long Heading right for the edge If she asks about me Tell her I'm not dead yet" As I said earlier, COVID came at a really bad time and it almost broke me. I was all alone in a time when I really needed people, specifically my girlfriend. We were almost two months in when I got COVID and it separated me from the person I wanted to be with the most. We kept in contact and having that person cheering you up and waiting for you was important. I was struggling, but I wanted her to know I was going to make it back to her no matter what.

COVID was hard but there was a nascent hope and determination that I felt at the time and that comes out in this song. It's the feeling of "things are terrible and I've been knocked down, but I'm refusing to give up" that kept me going. As I started to recover, all I wanted to do was scream out to the world "I'm not dead yet!"

#lord huron #COVID #covid 19 #music #personal #Spotify

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loudblonde · 4 years

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Peter Parker x Male!Stark!Reader

Trigger warning: angst, mentions of murder and death, bad communication between father!Tony and son!reader, depression, recovered self-harmer, self-harm scars, hydra mention, homophobia.

Reincarnation AU, where lovers who were destined to be together will always find each other after they die. They will feel naturally drawn to each other, like magnets. No matter who they are in this life, they always share some of the same physical traits.

(Y/N) pulled the hood further over his head, desperately wanting to escape the situation. The lawyers’ words stitched together, into a long string of nothingness, no meaning came from it, not to a kid.

(Y/N)’s mother had died not even two days ago, killed in front of (Y/N). Now his uncle fought for rights to custody over his father. A pointless battle, (Y/N) didn’t know this at the time, but he would be lucky he ended up with his father.

(Y/N) had never seen his father, he didn’t like him, or at least his mother hadn’t liked him. She had always talked about how arrogant he was and how he would rather just sleep around instead of being a father. How parties were his priority and not his own son. So no, (Y/N) didn’t like his father, not with those words in mind.

The black-haired boy looked over at the lawyer with tears in his eyes, he wanted to get away. He wanted his mother. But even he knew, she was never coming back.

That day had been far too long. (Y/N) had barely even registered the trial ended or that he was escorted out of the room and into a car. Once (Y/N) finally registered what was happening, a burger was offered to him. (Y/N) took it.

“Cheeseburger.” Tony said, unsure how to react, he was not fit to be a father. But he was rich. How would he ever provide what the kid needed emotionally? He wasn’t ready to be a father, but before Catharina had died, Tony had been in the hospital room with her. She had begged him to take in their son, to not let her brother get him.

Something had just screamed at him to take care of her son, no, their son. Something about the desperateness in her voice and eyes or how she had spent her last breath asking him to promise it to her.

But no, Tony was not ready to be a father, he wasn’t even sure he would do a good job, but he would try his best.

He watched as (Y/N) slowly ate. A sigh came from Tony. “I know that this is hard… I’m sorry kid.” Tony didn’t get a respond, not that he thought he would. He looked towards Happy who shrugged. “Drive us home.” Tony looked out of the window.

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

11 years passed quickly, (Y/N) Stark. The only known son and heir to the company. A genius like his father, just in other ways. He had spoken 7 languages at age 10. By the age of 15, that number was up to 16. The media had no pictures of him after his 13th birthday. They could never quite find him or else he was just hidden from the naked eye.

Now, (Y/N) just avoided the public as much as he could. He looked too much like his father. Who wanted a camera in their face 24/7. Definitely not (Y/N). It did help that he was sent off to a boarding school ever year.

Oh, and there was also this little detail called, he was fucking a mutant. A powerful one at that. He could read peoples minds and warp their senses. It’s tiring and often resulted in him getting a nosebleed. Yet he kept practicing, payed off on the exams.

(Y/N) knew very well, that if the wrong people found out, he would be taken away and used for some crazy science experiment. By hydra or someone worse. Someone Shield had no idea were around, (Y/N) was sure it could happen.

So, (Y/N) remained closeted in multiple ways.

Even if he had some destined lover out there, he wouldn’t wanna be with them. He doubted he had one, but just to be safe, he had an escape plan… however if the stories proved true… He didn’t think about that too much, it was not gonna happen.

Which he had been fine with until he came home and saw a guy his age in his fathers’ current workshop. He normally never went in there but felt as though he needed to do it.

“Erm, excuse me, but who are you?” (Y/N) asked the rather cute brown-haired boy.

Peter looked up with wide eyes. For a second, he thought he had seen Tony, but this man was so much younger. Peter scratched the back of his head. “I’m Peter Parker, Mister Starks intern.”

(Y/N) raised his eyebrow at that. “Who are you? I-if you don’t mind me asking!” (Y/N) found something cute about the nervous edge to the young man. (Y/N) smirked ever so slightly.

(Y/N) chuckled as he walked further into the workshop, his body reacted without him wanting it to. He walked all the way over to Peter and looked at what he was doing. Homework? Or… something else? It seemed strangely familiar; though Peter covered it up before he could see anymore.

“I’m (Y/N) Stark.” He said with a friendly smile. (Y/N) looked up as two other people walked into the workshop, his pretend girlfriend and father, happily chatting away about some scientific thing.

“Oh, (Y/N), didn’t see you there. You never told me your girlfriend was smart.” Tony said.

“Well Tony, you never bothered to ask asked.” (Y/N) shrugged as he sat on a table his legs dangling slightly, they didn’t have the best relationship, (Y/N) had never called him father.

Not even to his friends. His pretend and also very closeted fake girlfriend walked over and stood between (Y/N)’s leg, (Y/N) placed his arms around her shoulder, ignoring the hurtful look in Tony’s eyes. He had seen it a lot.

“You never do ask about anything, I didn’t think you would care enough about who I was dating.” (Y/N) shrugged. Peter felt very uncomfortable, he just looked down, hoping to just avoid the whole family mess.

Tony on the other hand sighed. “Look kid-“

“Don’t kid me. I lost all sense of that word that night.” (Y/N) said, without even raising his voice. (Y/N) had forgiven Tony long ago, though he didn’t know if Tony knew this. Being taken away from his uncle, whom he had cared for a lot, to never see him again. Turned out his uncle had killed his mother… yeah that was not fun to know at age five.

“The only reason I’m home now is because I’m required too, I will stay out of your way, as always. Have fun with your intern.” (Y/N) said as he jumped down from the table. He landed soundlessly. Peter caught onto that.

“(Y/N)….” Tony looked after them, but they left towards the direction of his sons’ room, not even bothering to look back.

He loved (Y/N), but something was off, there was something (Y/N) never told him. It bothered Tony, but he didn’t know how to get a bond with (Y/N), he had never taken to science. Or anything else they could bond over. Tony had tried but eventually… just given up.

Not even Pepper could bond with (Y/N) and she had tried. The closest had been one moment when (Y/N) almost opened up.

Tony looked over at Peter, who averted his eyes. “Sorry about that… where did we come from?”

(Y/N) listened as Tony dropped the subject and sighed. What had he expected? A confession that his father Truly cared but just didn’t know how to approach a moody teenager. Or perhaps Tony saying that he had never been a father to him, nor he ever would.

They walked into a living room and sat down, (Y/N) hoped for silence. “He still doesn’t know. Does he?” Elena asked him, she placed a hand on his leg, comforting him.

(Y/N) sighed. “Why would he? It isn’t as though he cares anyway.” (Y/N) wasn’t sure if that was what he truly believed or hoped. “Why would I ever tell him I’m bi. Sure, he is. But why would he care about me?” (Y/N) leaned back in the couch scowling to himself, thinking about his father.

Though he smiled when he heard a familiar pair of heals enter the room.

“What have the two of you been up too?” Clint asked from behind Natasha.

(Y/N) chuckled as he stood up, Elena did the say, they all shared hugs. “Not much, just planning world domination,” (Y/N) joked.

“Yeah, letting the queer people rise up and overthrow all the governments.” Elena joined in. They all chuckled.

“(Y/N)-“ Natasha began but was interrupted. She let (Y/N) speak, knowing damn well he was being an edgy teenager that she would beat the next time he asked to spare with her. Which for some reason he never seemed to learn from.

“Save it, please. I don’t need any pity. He found someone else when he was ready. I was literally thrown at him 11 years ago. He wasn’t ready to be a father and if he is now, then lucky for Parker..” (Y/N) shrugged, pretending it didn’t hurt him.

Of course, Natasha and Clint saw right through that. They shared a look before closing the door to the room and sat both kids down. Somewhat ready to have this conversation.

“Your father doesn’t hate you.” Clint said and sighed. “He just-“ (Y/N) shook his head.

“Doesn’t know how to reach me? I have heard that from seven different psychologists.” (Y/N) leaned his head against the table. Not wanting to have this conversation with two others.

“I was gonna say, afraid. You are distant, he cherishes the little you two have and always get sad when you leave. Just having you around cheers him up, even with your harsh rejections of him.” Clint said, catching (Y/N) off guard.

A slight gasp came from him as he looked up at Clint, unsure if Clint was actually telling the truth. “Tony likes having me around?” (Y/N) looked at Elena for comfort, she placed a hand on his thigh.

Natasha and Clint shared a look before nodding. “Yes, he is always talking about the next time you come home, how he wants to spend more time with you.” Clint said with a small smile.

“Yes, he smiles widely, just like the moments when he discovers something new.” Natasha said, a ghostly smile on her lips. (Y/N) knew that smile, he had seen it a few times. It always warmed his heart when he thought about it, his father actually being happy for once.

No matter how much (Y/N) claimed he didn’t care, he really did care. Seeing his father happy was always something he remembered. For two reasons, always the same two reasons.

One, seeing Tony smiling widely and not drinking was rare.

And two… it hurt. Seeing Tony get a sense of happiness when he didn’t think (Y/N) was around, a sense of happiness that (Y/N) previously wrote off as simply being a dislike for him.

They had some catching up to do, and it seemed as though Clint had read his mind.

“You should talk with him later when Peter goes off to sleep. I know you don’t sleep that much, both of you.” Clint said, waving a finger between them, making the small group last.

(Y/N) thought about it, one hand, he wanted a relationship with his father, but on the other hand. Tony must think (Y/N) hates him…

An idea popped into his head.

He knew what he must do, he stood up, a determined glint in his eyes. “I have to go, Elena, you know the code to my room. I will be back in two hours.” (Y/N) rushed out and into the garage, he grabbed his car keys and drove away to get something he knew his father loved.

Elena wandered off into the compound, looking for Wanda when she found Peter sitting on a couch, she plopped down next to him. “So, you’re starks intern?” She asked curiously. Her eyes glanced over Peters features.

Peter looked at her with a small smile. “Yeah. You are his sons’ girlfriend, right?” Peter asked.

Elena nodded as she shifted slightly, not being a good liar. “Yeah, we are.” She responded, a bit too distracted, Peter caught on.

“Unless there is trouble…?” He asked, really not looking forward to getting between them.

“Oh? No!” She chuckled and closed her eyes. She didn’t feel anyone around. Once she opened her eyes, she smiled. “I listen to girl in red.” She said. Peter nodded, knowing what it meant.

“And he covers?” Peter asked, suddenly wanting to know more about the other. She nodded.

“Yes, he covers for me. We have a whole breakup story planned once we both graduate at the end of the year. The darlings of the school practically married already. No one will see it coming.” She laughed softly; Peter chuckled slightly at it.

“Does Mister Stark know?” Peter asked, she instantly shook her head.

“No, Natasha and Clint know… and now you do. I trust that you won’t tell.” She held out her pinkie finger. Peter gently held her finger with his own.

“I promise and to trade knowledge. I’m bi. I’m Peter by the way.” He said with a huge smile, happy to have made a friend. “What school does the two of you attend?”

“Oh, that old thing?” She dropped her pinkie. “Institute auf dem Rosenberg.” She said with a proud smile.

Peters face dropped.

She chuckled softly at it. “Both of our families are rich; we are both smart. I mean, (Y/N) can’t really do science, but he can learn any language in three weeks. I take after my dad. Hank McCoy.” She beamed. She too was a mutant. She had the ability to feel the presence of others.

“What is it like on the school?” He asked. Everything she had said baffled him. She seemed so nonchalant about it as well.

“Oh, it is really a lot of fun. All the students there are super nice to be around. I mostly enjoy the horse riding or the various biology classes. The instructors are so good. Campus life is amazing. I have my own bedroom and bathroom.” She explained with a huge smile, just happy to be talking about it. She didn’t notice the sky darken outside.

“A-and your father is Hank McCoy?” Peters inner nerd was showing. He turned towards her, not noticing how dark it was getting.

“Yeah, I don’t see him much, but yes. I take more after my mother, I’m not all that blue.” She leaned back and closed her eyes, she felt a presence besides them, a familiar one, so she wasn’t worried.

They kept talking for an hour before Peter had to sleep, he had been up early. Elena just wandered off the bedroom.

Meanwhile (Y/N) had finally gotten home with the cheeseburgers. He walked into his fathers’ shop and placed one down besides Tony. “Tony… dad…” (Y/N) looked away as Tony looked at him shocked.

“I know I haven’t been the best son… or person and I’m sorry for that.” (Y/N) looked down.

“Kid…” Tony began but stopped at (Y/N) raised his hand.

“I don’t blame you for not being close with me. I pushed you away, I’m sorry for that dad.” (Y/N) looked over. “I shouldn’t have pushed you away… but I was just too scared what would happen if we tried to get closer again. Last time we tried anything father son like, you got blown up.” He nodded towards the reactor on Tony’s chest.

“I guess… my mother dying and you almost dying… I couldn’t afford to lose anyone I cared for, not again.” Tony hugged (Y/N) who just stood there, not knowing how to respond to the hug.

Tony pulled away and looked to (Y/N), he gently wiped (Y/N)’s tears away, leaving slightly oily marks on (Y/N)’s cheeks. (Y/N) hadn’t even noticed he was crying. He scrunched the sleeve of his hoodie up and wiped the rest of his tears away.

“You don’t have to be sorry… I haven’t done my part either… I thought you hated me and that you rather wouldn’t see me… I should have reached out instead of just letting you be alone.” Tony smiled gently and sat on the chair, (Y/N) jumped up on the table as he opened his cheeseburger.

“We were both not good at communicating.” (Y/N) sighed. There was so much to say and so little time to say it in. Or at least that was what it felt like.

“Dad?” (Y/N) looked towards Tony unsure.

“Yes?” Tony questioned and stopped opening his burger up.

(Y/N) bit his lip before shaking his head. “I’m gay.”

Tony looked confused. “What about Elena?”

“She’s also gay… We date as a cover. It is easier than anything else.” Tony nodded, understanding the need to keep it hidden.

“You know, it seems to run in the family.” Tony chuckled, catching (Y/N) off guard. “I’m bi. The news just doesn’t report the men I have slept with.” Tony shrugged as he took a bite off the burger.

“I can also read peoples minds.” (Y/N) muttered as he took a bite of his own burger.

However, Tony had heard it. “Read peoples mind?” Tony asked unsure if he heard it properly.

(Y/N) looked at him and nodded, his eyes shifted into a cloudy white colour, it looked as though someone had poured drops of milk into water, the white curled around his iris before finally overtaking his eyes.

“You hope I’m lying and joking around, you want to comfort yourself with that thought but deep down you know the truth, you know that there has always been something off, something you couldn’t see or explain and it wasn’t my sexuality. Something that pushed you away.” (Y/N) said, his voice sounded as though he spoke from somewhere else.

Tony watched as (Y/N) tilted his head to the side. “But you aren’t scared of me, of this. It caught you off guard but you…” (Y/N) shook his head. “You actually want to protect me.” (Y/N) couldn’t believe what he heard. Why would anyone ever protect a monster like him?

Something so vile, that could freely enter and probe around in someone’s mind.

“Of course, I would help you and keep you safe.” Tony took his sons hands in his. “Even with your gift, it isn’t something to be ashamed off.” Tony smiled.

(Y/N) smiled before shaking his head. “I… Why? Why keep me safe?” (Y/N) asked, unsure. His school had a few mutants, but those out was socially isolated and for a school priding itself with creating future relationships for their careers.

Tony looked confused at that question; something just didn’t seem right. Tony had a bad feeling where the conversation was going. “Because it’s the right thing to do and you are my son. If I didn’t protect you… I would be no better than hydra.” Tony said while looking into his sons’ eyes.

The word hydra made (Y/N) flinch and close his eyes. Imaginations of what happened. He had spoken with James for a few hours, before he had been whisked off to Wakanda and then again, every single time he was in Wakanda. He knew what hydra could do and with powers like his…

“(Y/N), I would never let hydra get to you.” Tony said sternly. “And, if they do get you, I will rain hell down upon them before they touch you.”

The words didn’t comfort (Y/N). Tony had essentially said he couldn’t promise safety, that hydra could very much just get to him. That he would never be safe. But (Y/N) put on a fake smile, not wanting to worry his father too much for one night. “Thank you.” Tony didn’t see through the smile.

(Y/N) faked a yawn, he needed to get some fresh air. “I should head towards the bed. I have had a long flight.” He stood up and threw his half-eaten cheeseburger out. “Don’t stay up too late.” (Y/N) joked at Tony who in turn chuckled.

“I was going to say, be safe. But I don’t need that.” Tony finished his own cheeseburger as (Y/N) walked out of the room.

(Y/N) walked into his room and out on the balcony, unbeknownst to him, Peters bedroom was right next to his own. (Y/N) took the hoodie off and dropped it down, scars littered his arms, but (Y/N) knew no one would see that here. It was a blind spot; no cameras could see his balcony.

A sigh came from him as he ran his fingers over the jagged scars, all healed and all going to stay. He had been clean for over a year. He had found a way to distract himself, singing. It sounded stupid when he thought about it. But singing helped him get away from his feelings, for just that moment.

He started off with a quiet song, one he had written himself. A song about a lost boy, trying to find his way home. Trying to live in a world with constant hate towards him.

Peter who had trouble with sleeping, heard someone sing outside his window. A beautiful, almost angelic voice. He looked outside and saw the young stark standing there shirtless and just singing, Peter had been too caught up in it he hadn’t noticed (Y/N) stopping and looking at him.

(Y/N) turned towards Peter with scared eyes. “H-hey Peter.” He chuckled as he scratched the back of his head. “Sorry if I woke you up.”

Peter fell inside his room before walking outside, rubbing his shoulder. “N-no. You didn’t. I just couldn’t sleep-“ he noticed the scars but said nothing, “and then I heard you sing. W-which you are really good at!” Peter exclaimed.

(Y/N) walked over to where their balconies met and leaned on the edge, Peter sat in the chair right next to it. “Come here often?” (Y/N) asked softly. “Every other weekend.” Peter proudly said. “Mister Stark wanted to teach me how to properly make my suit, but he is mostly always busy, so instead I train with the avengers.” Peter looked genuinely excited about that.

(Y/N) laughed softly before shaking his head. “That is what my dad is like. Tell me Pete. Why did my father pick you? He isn’t exactly one to get interns.” (Y/N) knew he was onto something, but he didn’t want to probe Peters brain.

Peter blushed, giving (Y/N) all the confirmation he needed to know he was indeed onto something. “I-“ Peter stopped himself.

“No need to tell the secret if it is.” (Y/N) placed a finger on Peters lips. Keeping him quiet and blushing. “But if you want to, then I never tell a secret.” (Y/N) winked as he removed his finger.

“I’m spiderman.” Peter whispered, (Y/N) heard it.

He moved over the balcony and sat next to Peter. “Really? That is so cool!” (Y/N) said in a voice that was maybe too loud, it made him flinch slightly and calm down.

“You think I’m cool?” Peter asked baffled. His blush only growing.

“Of course. At my school we watched your videos and used them in math, seeing how someone in a split second can change and twist their body. It is honestly amazing.” (Y/N) said without realising what he had just confessed too. But it was fine, right? He had said that they had done it in math class. Totally didn’t sound creepy. Right?

However, Peter blushed madly, even in the dimly lit night, (Y/N) could easily tell Peter was blushing, it made him blush as well. “Erm, sorry if that is weird.” He chuckled softly and scratched the back of his head.

“N-no. I just never imagined that someone that handsome and smart would ever be interested in what I did, nevertheless the only son of my mentor. I always wanted to impress really smart people but to actually-“ (Y/N) placed a hand over Peters mouth, which shut Peter up immediately.

“Pete, you are rambling, it’s cute.” (Y/N) removed his hand just as Elena walked outside. Peter didn’t notice it, instead he just heard the words over and over again. (Y/N) Stark thought he was cute? Or at least what he did was cute.

“Would you two please quiet a bit down. I have a meeting soon.” She pleaded while looking at the two.

“Of course, Elena. Sorry.” (Y/N) waved at her as she walked back in. ”Mind if I stay over on this side for an hour or two? Elena has a meeting.” (Y/N) looked at Peter.

“You can stay!” Peter said somewhat loudly, making (Y/N) smile. He stood up and bend over the balcony wall to get his hoodie. (Y/N) put it on and followed Peter into his room.

The room was decorated with some hero merch. It was honestly charming. To see someone, work this close with the avengers and still be a fan. It reminded him about Phil.

(Y/N) sat on the bed as he looked around the room amazed, the twin sized bed was small, but (Y/N) didn’t mind it. Peter sat next to him, maybe a bit too close, but neither of the boys noticed that.

(Y/N) leaned into Peter. “I really love your room.” He said softly.

Peter placed an arm around (Y/N)’s shoulder. “Really? It isn’t too… I don’t know, childish?” Peter asked, suddenly very insecure about his room. Why was Peter doing this? The most likely very straight (Y/N) Stark was this close, close enough for Peter to just- no, he couldn’t think like that.

“No?” (Y/N) turned his head slightly to look at Peter, his eyes travelled down to Peters lips before looking back into his eyes. “It isn’t childish, at all. It’s normal to have imagery of someone or something you idolise.”

Peters eyes widened slightly as he saw (Y/N)’s eyes travel down again before coming up, so he took a chance and cupped (Y/N) face. Peter leaned down almost all the way, leaving less then an inch between their lips. (Y/N) was quick to fill in the gap. He may not have known Peter for long, but it just felt right.

The kiss sparked a memory he didn’t know he had.

The sun was setting. Two young men had snuck away and into the forest to watch the sunset from the tallest tree. The tallest man had his hands around the others face, while the shorter had his arms around the waist of the other.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

(Y/N) pulled away from the kiss with wide eyes. He looked at Peter with a panicked expression. Peter shared the equally panicked expression. “I’m sorry!” (Y/N) halfway yelled, this time it was Peters turn to place his hands over (Y/N)’s mouth.

“You saw that too, right? I’m not the one going crazy here.” Peter asked, (Y/N) melted under Peters touch, he tried to say something, but Peters hand was still over his mouth.

“Right, sorry.” Peter removed his hand.

“If you talk about the two of us, in these old clothing, sitting in a tree and… kissing. Then yes.” (Y/N) said, moving slightly away from Peter. (Y/N) instantly regretted it, not feeling the warmth of Peter.

“… The reincarnation.” Peter stood up and started pacing the room. “So, it is true, I have heard stories, but they were hard to believe.” Peter stopped and looked at (Y/N) who just blankly stared at the wall.

“I’m a mutant. You should know that before you decide if you want to stay with me. The stories have always been true… never imagined me to be one of those.” (Y/N) stood up and was immediately hugged by Peter.

“Pete, what are you doing?” (Y/N) asked unsure as to why people kept hugging him.

“Oh… sorry!” Peter pulled away slightly but kept (Y/N) within arms range.

“No reason to say sorry.” (Y/N) smiled. “Why don’t we just, sit down and talk this through?” (Y/N) asked as he took Peter with him over to the bed.

They spent the next night just talking about everything they could think. About (Y/N)’s power, Peters school, mental-health, and childhood stories, how they both shared having seen someone they cared about get killed.

At some point during the night, they fell asleep while cuddling on the small bed.

213 notes · View notes

eleanorbloom · 3 years

Text

When You’re Ready Ch. 20

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x f! MC (Eleanor Bloom) x Ethan Ramsey.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: Angst, PTSD, anxiety, suicidal thoughts. Rated M

Taglist @utterlyinevitable @binny1985 @shanzay44 @choicesficwriterscreations @starrystarrytrouble @lahellacute @lucy-268 @cinnamonspongecake @romewritingshop @freckles-spangledvampire@mercury84choices @curiousconch

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Chapter 20. I’ll Stand By You

I'll stand by you

Take me in, into your darkest hour

And I'll never desert you

Whatever cloud of anxiety and fear had been following her since she got out of the quarantine room, now it seemed in suspension. Right above her head, waiting for the proper moment to come back and shower her with the consequences, with the realizations that inevitably death brings in.

Her family was being like a dome, a bubble protecting her from hurt and pain, and from any damage she could do to herself with her mind. With her thoughts. With the memories, the guilt, the I-should-haves. She could see everything outside, wandering, waiting for any nook to sneak into, but somehow her family managed to catch them before they could reach her.

No one had doubts that there would be aftermaths, that at some point she’d have to face them, but they wanted to delay it as much as they could.

Bryce had identified the anxiety she felt at the thought of being alone, so now everyone was attentive to not leaving her alone.

Her mother had identified the guilt was slowly consuming her. It was the sadness in her eyes, her fingers fidgeting distractingly. It was sometimes just a mother's instinct.

But despite all the effort everyone was making, no one could stop what happened inside her head at night. Somehow, she felt like she was in that quarantine room over and over again. The same heavier sensation on her chest. The feeling of being scared and tired. Of wanting to leave. But someone was pleading her to not go, something was pulling her back to the ground.

When Eleanor went to see Rafael the next morning, it made everything worse, even if she was happy that he had survived.

He was fragile, it would take him a long road to recover, and it was all her fault. Why she had to let him accompany her? Why she had to put him in such danger? Why she ruined his life like that when he had plans? When he wanted to start over?

The only thing she had managed to do was screw his future up. His life.

Verónica knew what was happening. She saw the pain in her eyes, the rage brewing inside her, she saw her knuckles turning white over her knees, her hands grasping the blanket over her tights, the imploring look she gave Rafael while he was speaking. She had seen it so many times. The guilty look. It wasn’t the first time that she was taking responsibility for something that was completely out of her hands. And it wouldn’t be the last time either. But she knew how to handle it. Mothers always know.

As Verónica knew when she was feeling bad, she also knew the best ways to put her out of her misery, to distract her, to not let her mind sunk in guilty and self-deprecation. “Honey, is that true that Bryce braided your hair?” she asked, while she was combing her hair after returning from Rafael’s room.

She felt the exact moment her body relaxed at the mention of Bryce. Then, she chuckled, and a bright smile rested on her face. “Yes, he did. And I still can’t believe it.”

“I have to say he’s pretty good at it. It barely loosened overnight, and you have amazing waves in your hair now.”

“Heh. Please repeat this in his presence. Or not. He won’t shut up about it for a week.”

“He deserves to be proud of that talent. Well, more than a talent, this is a skill. A very useful skill. Now you don’t have to worry about doing your daughter’s hair all by yourself because he’ll deal with it pretty well. Maybe even better than you.”

Eleanor glanced back at her, flushed, “Mom!”

“Oh, sorry, darling, could be a son too, there’s nothing wrong with boys having long hair.”

“Mamá…”

“Well, maybe you don’t want to have kids, and that’s respectable, sorry for being too intrusive.”

Eleanor giggled, amused, “You really liked him, uh?”

“Is there any other alternative, Ellie? He’s too likable. Too charming. And he’s been an angel with you. I don’t feel nothing but gratitude towards him.”

“He’s been amazing. Not just now. He has always been this way…”

Suddenly a knock on the door interrupted her, “Can I come in?”

Eleanor looked at the door where Keiki was standing with a mix of shyness and surprise, and for a brief moment, she thought she saw pain flashing her eyes, “Keiki! Yes, come in!”

The girl walked towards her and, in a surprising act, hugged her, “Ella! I’m so happy you’re okay!”

She had never done that before. Hug her and speak to her with such sincerity. The had become close by the weeks, but she never had shown any spontaneous affection towards her, not even to Bryce. “Keiki! Oh! Thank you. And I’m so happy to see you again! I missed you.” She said, her eyes glimmering with emotion at the gesture,

“Me too.”

Eleanor smiled at her and then Keiki looked at Verónica, standing at the other side of the bed. “Oh, let me introduce you to my mom, Verónica. Mom, she’s Bryce’s sister, Keiki.”

“Hi, Mrs. Bloom, nice to meet you.” She said, giving her a brief nod.

"Hello, Keiki, nice to meet you too. I’ve heard so much about you!”

“You have?”

“Oh, yes, Ellie has mentioned you lots of times! She says you're incredibly smart and sass and she loves spending time with you. Must be she misses the role of elder sister.”

Both girls laughed in agreement. Then, Verónica got up from the bed and walked towards the door, “I’ll leave you to it, girls, I’ll call mom.”

“Okay send her and Tata a kiss, please.”

“Sure, honey,”

“How are you feeling?” Keiki asked once Verónica closed the door behind her.

“Still a bit tired, but I can’t complain.”

“Bryce told me Rafael woke up this morning.”

“Yes! And he’s doing fine. Now we are waiting for Danny to wake up. You can go to see him too, I’m sure he will be happy to see you.”

“My volleyball buddy.”

“The biggest treason you could’ve done to you brother.”

“Oh, please. We both know how much he loved kicking my ass that day.”

“Well, yeah.”

Suddenly, Keiki chuckled, “You should’ve seen him yesterday at lunch. Freaking out.”

“Freaking out?”

“Yes, he told me he would meet your parents at night, and he didn’t know what to do, what to say… It was hilarious seeing him freaking out when… he usually doesn’t freak out with anything… Well, if not involves cooking, of course”

“Why didn’t I notice? To me he looked pretty composed when he came back.”

“Well, at home he was rambling, saying he would screw it up, wondering what he would do if they didn’t like him.”

“No way! He was really freaking out! I would’ve never imagined he would be nervous about that, I mean, he’s the King of Smooths.”

They both laughed, “He told me he wasn’t in that situation since he was seventeen, and… well at that moment the situation was very different because our dad was already in jail, so it’s understandable the bad experience.”

“But now nothing of that matters, he’s a very accomplished young man.”

“Now he’s Mister Imaginary Boyfriend.”

Eleanor snorted, “Oh god, he told you?”

“Yeah, he told me every second since he met your parents. He woke me up when he got home and had me until 3 am gushing about it.”

Eleanor and Keiki laughed and kept catching up and laughing for a few hours until the teen decided to visit Kyra and then Rafael, so Eleanor could have some rest.

The following days weren't very much different. Benjamin returned to Detroit, but her parents would stay in the city until she was discharged.

Danny woke up two days later. He’d have to remain in the ICU for a long time, but he’d be fine. Even if Eleanor had seen Sienna happy for Rafael’s and her recovery, just when Danny woke up she was the same Sienna again. With hope in her eyes, with the glimmer that characterized her kind and sweet smile. Her happiness was now complete.

The next day after Danny woke up, she was discharged, just in time to attend Bobby’s funeral.

The dome she’d been in the last three days couldn’t protect her from what was coming. Even if her parents and Bryce tried to convince her that she didn’t have to attend Bobby Gunderson’s memorial, she insisted that she had. That she was fine enough to attend.

Physically yes, she was. But the moment she set a foot in the memorial, Eleanor realized that emotionally, she wasn’t. She would never be.

It was so tangible how the dome started to vanish. How the pain, the guilt, the regrets, everything, was coming to get her.

And the guilt… the guilt soaked her to the bones.

Seeing the pain in the other person is painful. But seeing the mix of gratefulness and envy in the family is hard to manage. Because Eleanor can’t help but think that Bobby’s wife was glad that the rest survived but can’t help but wonder why her husband had to die, why he was the only one who’s gone, why he was the only unfortunate. Why just him and not Eleanor, or Rafael, or Danny. Why she wasn’t as lucky as Verónica and Robert, who had their family complete.

And Eleanor can’t blame her.

Why it had to be him when she was the responsible one? The Senator was her patient, she had discovered that Travis was poisoning him, she should’ve informed Ethan, and Banerji, and the police, and not deal with the situation by herself, let alone involve innocent people.

If someone deserved to die, was her. It was her fault what had happened. Mrs. Gunderson didn’t deserve any of the pain and sorrow she was feeling, nor her family.

The rest of the afternoon went in a blur. She lost track of time and space for periods. Sometimes she focused on the conversation she had in front of her, sometimes her mind wandered. Sometimes the guilt was too big she couldn’t think about anything else. Sometimes she couldn’t think about anything.

She wasn’t alone any minute. Whether she was with Bryce, her parents, or her friends, she was wandering through the service and reception like a wave in the middle of the sea, moved by external impulse, and not by her own will.

A couple of hours later, while Bryce and Eleanor were talking to Jackie and Aurora, her parents approached to say goodbye. They gave a grateful hug to her friends and thanked them for the umpteenth time for all they did for their daughter. Then, Eleanor and Bryce led them outside, where the taxi was waiting for them. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay here, sweetheart?”

Robert and Verónica gave her a worried glance. She was paler than when she got out of the hospital, and Verónica could read the haunting in her eyes.

Even if Eleanor knew her mom probably read her, she gave both her parents a reassuring smile, “Yeah, mom, don’t worry, I’ll be staying with Bryce and Keiki so she’ll keep me company while Bryce is working.”

“Okay, but if you need anything, please call us, okay?”

“I promise,”

Robert pulled her into a hug while Verónica did the same with Bryce, “Visit us soon, Sunny. You could stay with us if you’re getting bored here, you know? We will always be happy to have you."

“I’ll keep it in mind, thanks dad,”

“And of course you too, Bryce, visit us soon with Keiki, I’m sure she’d be delighted with the lovely spots that we have in Cincinnati to take pictures of.”

"Thank you, Veronica, we'll plan a trip for sure. Hope you have a safe flight."

Then it was the time for Bryce to say goodbye to Robert, “I know there’s no need, but take care of my Sunny, alright?”

“Of course, Robert. With my life.”

“Please call us if you need anything, if you need help or if something is happening with Ellie. You have our numbers now.”

“I will.”

Hours later, when they arrived home, Eleanor went directly to bed. Her head was bumping and couldn’t handle another word with anyone. Bryce decided to join Keiki in the living room and watch something on the TV. She’d been alone most of the day.

Now that she was out of the hospital, the idea of being alone wasn’t as hard as it was at Edenbrook. She was alone in the room, but there were people near. And Bryce’s room didn’t remind her of the attack, and she didn’t feel like someone would appear from anywhere and would threaten her life again.

In fact, now she was relieved of being alone, at last. Now she could let all her feelings flow.

Her mom had been filling her with questions, comments, and ideas to not let her think about the attack, and even if Eleanor was grateful for the help she had given her, somehow that just had made her accumulate things. Accumulate thoughts, feelings, anger, guilt.

She buried her face in the pillow and cried, anger exploding in her core like a balloon that can’t hold any more air.

She was so mad. With the world. With herself. Above all, with herself.

She deserved misery, pain. A man had died because of her and her irresponsibility.

She didn’t deserve people worrying about her.

What was her purpose after this? Why had life decided that her life was more worthy than Bobby’s? How could she live with his death on her back? With the suffering Rafael and Danny will have to endure to recover?

It was all her fault.

She didn’t know how much time she cried, but after a while, she started seeing flashes of that horrid night. The night she should’ve died.

At first, it was calm. Bryce was lulling her to sleep. For a moment, everything felt fine. But then it was all darkness and pain, and a voice breaking the silence in the middle of the darkness, pleading. “Please protect her. Don’t take her away. Don’t take her away from me. Please. Please,” she could hear while a tight grip was pulling her by the hand.

She was floating in midair, tired, ready to go. Her whole body was aching. But the grip on her hand was like an anchor, it wasn’t letting her go very far. Something kept pulling her to the ground. She didn’t know what or who. It was dark.

But then she saw Bryce’s face over her, his arms around her, and he was sobbing incessantly. Tears spilling down his cheeks and to the window of the hazmat suit, “Please, stay with me, stay with me” he begged, pulling her life like a kite flying away in a storm.

“Bryce…” She tried to whisper, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t move or speak. She was exhausted. But she could see him, she could hear him.

She had never seen him like that. So broken. So… desperate.

It was in sorrow. Desolation. But it wasn’t real, isn’t it? It was just a dream.

“Stay with me, please. Babe, don’t leave me, please. I don’t know what I’d do without you, please.” She could feel the lump in his throat aching with every word. The desperation in his grip, the fear with every inch he pulled her against his chest. She knew it was a dream, but something about it felt so real. So familiar.

“Bryce…” She tried again.

“Please don’t leave me.”

She wanted to go. She was tired. She deserved to die. She was the one who should’ve died.

But Bryce didn’t let her.

“Elle, babe.”

Why didn't he just let her go? Couldn't he see the pain was too much? That she couldn't live with herself after what she did to Bobby?

“Babe… Love, wake up. Wake up.”

And then she opened her eyes and found Bryce, no hazmat suit, no tears, just a concerned look on his face in dim light, “Babe, what happened?”

She looked around, trying to distinguish where she was. It was his room. The lamp on his nightstand was turned on, there was absolute silence in the apartment. Bryce was sitting at the edge of the bed with boxers and a shirt on, his hair disheveled. They both had been sleeping.

“I was… dreaming…”

And as she remembered her dream, rage suddenly started to boil inside her. Unstoppable, unbearable. All the rage and guilt and anger that had been brewing inside her, was unleashed now that she knew it had been him, “Why didn’t you just let me go?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why you held me and begged, and prayed to keep me alive… When I was so tired and I…” Eleanor covered her face with both hands in exasperation, “I… I wanted to go but you didn’t let me, you pulled me to stay with you, but I shouldn’t be here, Bryce… I should be the one... I don’t deserve to be here”

Bryce’s face disfigured at her words and shook his head instantly, “Don’t say that,” his voice was indignant.

"But it's true. I'm responsible for this. Bobby shouldn’t have died. I should have. He didn’t deserve to die, I was the stupid one who thought I could deal with the situation…”

“Elle, you’re not responsible for this, the only one to blame here is Travis. He wanted to kill the Senator, he brought the canister. You just tried to save him.”

“But I… I did it all wrong. I should’ve called the cops, he was dangerous, I put everyone in danger… And an innocent person died.”

“And just for that you think you should’ve died?”

“I-, if there was someone that should’ve paid the price, that was me. Not Bobby, or Raf of Danny. I ruined their lives.”

“No, Eleanor. The only one who should’ve paid the price was Travis, and he paid it with his life. It should’ve been in jail, but he did pay.”

Silence.

Bryce’s words made sense. But that didn’t stop her from feeling all the rage she had inside.

But the rage wasn’t actually towards Bryce, she realized. It was towards herself, for wanting to live, for fighting for her life and succeed, when she didn’t deserve it. Bobby deserved to live. “I don’t know. It’s just that… I can’t stop feeling guilty, all the time, Bryce. When I see Raf, Danny, suffering, when I saw Mrs. Gunderson, her daughter, all his family suffering, I feel terrible. I am responsible for this, and I’m here, alive, safe. I’m the least affected of all. I don’t deserve to be here when I brought so much pain with my actions.”

Bryce gave her a sad look as his eyes started to glimmer, then he laid down beside her and pulled her towards his body, “Babe how could you say that? You deserve to live. What you did not deserve was to die, to die because of some stupid psycho who didn't give a damn about anyone else but his revenge. He's the only one who should've died, and he did. Unfortunately, Bobby died too, but that’s not on you.”

Eleanor shivered at the feeling of his touch, of his comforting and soothing touch. She looked deep into his amber eyes and for a moment, things weren’t as horrible as it seemed. “But how… How can I live after this? What can I do with all this anger I have inside? How I stop feeling anger towards you for… For not letting me go? Towards myself for surviving?”

“I think that’s something you have to figure out with time, babe. I know this is all dark and horrible right now, but with the proper help, it will get better. Soon you’ll understand that this is not your fault. Just don’t give up.”

Eleanor nodded, and then she nuzzled her face against his chest, his lips brushing her forehead as his arms enveloped her in a tight and warm embrace.

After a few seconds, she couldn't help but whisper, "Was it real?"

“What?”

Eleanor parted from him a few inches so she could see him in the eyes, “What I dreamed? You really said those things and… held my hand… like you were trying to hold me to life?”

Bryce couldn’t hide the conflict in his eyes, how reluctant he felt about responding to her, but after a few seconds, he nodded, “Yes. I didn’t leave your side, and I didn’t let go of your hand for a second. I was scared that you would go if you… If you felt alone.”

“Would have been that difficult if I had died?”

“How… How can you ask me that, Elle?” His voice broke all of a sudden, as if the last source of strength had crumbled inside him.

“It’s just… you were so desperate. I… I’d never seen you like that. I could have never imagined you could break like that.”

“I broke a lot of times that day, actually, but I didn’t want you to see me like that. I wanted to be strong for you, but at that moment… You were so fragile, so in pain… that the idea of losing you was… too much, more than I could handle…” Bryce sighed and wiped the tears streaming down his cheeks. Eleanor stroke his hair, looking pensive at him.

Then his eyes looked at her for a few seconds, deeply and thoughtfully, like he’d never done before.

It was with a vulnerability that had never seen in him, not even that night at the quarantine room, not even in the shower while she was crying her fears away, not even the night he told her about his parents and Keiki.

It was raw vulnerability, and not by chance or by the circumstances. He was choosing to show himself like that in front of her. He was opening a door that had never been opened. And it was heartbreaking. Her heart ached at the sight of it.

“Eleanor you… You’ve been the only person that has loved me… That has loved me for who I am. That has seen the broken pieces of me, my past, my mistakes and… and even still has kept loving me.” A shiver cursed down her spine as the words reached her ears, just as it happens when a heartbreaking truth is revealed. How? How this could happen? “Even before you said you were in love with me, you loved me like no one else ever did. Without judging, without wavering.” His voice was tremulous, his eyes threatening with tears again, but he looked so, so earnestly at her that for a moment she didn't recognize him. And in fact, she didn’t know him. She was meeting Bryce for the first time. The real Bryce. The Bryce under layers and layers of protection built over the years. The Bryce she always wanted to meet. Where she wanted to dive in.

Her brain couldn’t process such truth. She could’ve never imagined that no one… No one had loved him unconditionally. How? How so many people could miss him?

“It took me years to come to terms with the fact that I lost my parents. I never did with my sister for some reason, and now she’s here. I always thought I’d be alone my whole life… But everything changed when I met you. I could trust someone for the first time. I could love someone for the first time. That's why I was so scared at first when you met Keiki. Because it would've been extremely difficult for me to overcome our breakup in case you choose Ethan, or simply because you didn't want me. But then I chose to let you in… And… is it beautiful as it is frightening. The fear of losing you is worse. I would’ve never overcome it if you’d gone, Eleanor. That’s why… I was so… desperate. So hopeless, because I don’t know what I’d do if I lose you. You mean too much to me.” He couldn’t go on. The lump in his throat was too painful.

Eleanor pulled him into a hug and kissed his temple, “Bryce, my love… I…” She couldn’t continue either. The truth hurt too much. So she simply held him and pulled him towards her chest, stroking his hair, kissing his temple, letting him know that she was there for him.

“I’m sorry, it’s just I… I can’t stop thinking about that day, about the moment I found out you were in danger, when I saw you there, scared. When… when you started crying because the pain was too much. I still hear your screams sometimes, and it breaks my heart every time I think what you went through” He shook his head, trying to suppress the memories but he needed to let all out. “And… I can’t stop thinking about the moment I held you in my arms and suddenly you felt so heavy that for a moment I thought you were…” He needed to say it. The word had been eating him alive all those days, and he knew he needed to say it to find some kind of closure, to face this idea with reality. "I thought you were dead."

But the reality was that she wasn’t dead. She was with him.

“I thought you were dead and I…” He held her like clinging to life. Almost like how she clung to him in that quarantine room.

You never know when the roles can be reversed.

For the first time in days, Eleanor felt thankful for being alive. Even if she still felt guilty about Bobby's death, at that moment she realized how much more damage would've done her death. The pain that could've caused her family and friends. The pain that could've inflicted in Bryce. How devastated he would've been. And she didn’t want that. He didn’t want more suffering for Bryce. She wanted her happiness.

So, somehow, somewhere between all that pain, all those fears, all those tears, and late-night confessions, Eleanor found some sense of purpose. A reason to stay alive, to stay positive, a reason to heal.

She knew it wasn’t a definitive solution, that at some point she would find her path again, her own sense of life, but right now, when all was dark and painful, Bryce was pulling her back to life again.

“But I’m here, I’m here my love, I’m with you. And I’ll always be, I promise.”

His love was saving her again.

_____

A/N: This chapter was larger, but I decided last minute to cut it because I honestly didn’t want another chapter with more than 6k. Who knows if I’m going to keep my own promise next chapter haha

Thank you so much for reading! ❤

#bryce lahela #bryce lahela x mc #bryce x casey #bryce x mc #open heart #open heart choices #oh choices #open heart fanfiction #playchoices #choices stories you play #choices #Pixelberry

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echidnapower · 4 years

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EP’s FanFiction Master Post

So this is something I should have done a long time ago on my previous account, but better late than never. For those of you who find me, this is going to be a place where you can find all the fics I’ve written over the years. This will be added to over time as I fight to revive my muse.

It’ll be categorized by fandom, so you can quickly find what you do or don’t want to read. Here we go.

Pokemon

A Valentines Dream Come True - It's Valentines Day, and a certain redheaded Gym Leader is finally getting to enjoy it with the boyfriend of her dreams. During their time together, they get into a little discussion about dreams, and Ash doesn't wanna tell her his! So to get him to spill, she tells him her dreams...when she finally learns Ash's dream...will both their dreams come true? - Based on a drawing from @miyatoriaka, which can be found HERE.

AAML: Diamond and Pearl Version - Follow me as I remake the DP episodes in order and in sequence, all so I can add the biggest star besides Ash himself. Misty! Watch her and Ash's love grow as they go on their journey. The absolute LONGEST story in my portfolio, and you will see my writing evolve the longer you go on. Be prepared for a massive read that even now is STILL going.

All I Want For Christmas Is You - It's Christmas time and the Ketchum household is hosting a party with all of Ash's friends. But while Ash and Misty dance around their feelings for each other, another Sensational Sister is about to find herself in a situation she never could have expected, but she'll be darned if she lets it slip through her manicured fingers. (Spinoff of @hollylu-ships-it‘s "A Christmas in Kanto" comic which can be found HERE.

Best Friend - "Why? Why did I have to be so stupid as to make the mistake of falling in love with my best friend?" - Story told in Misty’s POV.

Blessings From Heaven - I'm Ash Ketchum, and I'm getting married today! But how did this come to be? Through God's devine planning is how. Here's my story: I'm marrying Misty. - Warning for religious themes, told in Ash’s POV.

I Miss You - Misty misses Ash terribly, and it's affecting her emotionally as she's more irritable than usual, if that was even possible. But Daisy has a plan to get Ash to come and see Misty again. Will her plan have the desired effect? Or will it cause something she never could've seen coming? - Based on a trio of drawings from the long lost Simply-Nicole. The old art can be found on my dA page HERE, HERE, and HERE.

I’m Misty, and You Are? - Misty tells the story we all know and love...literally. She's telling the story. Based on artwork from the long lost Simply-Nicole, which can be found on my old dA page HERE.

Keep The Faith - This time it's May and Drew getting married, and it takes place in the "Blessings From Heaven" universe. Warning for religious themes.

Looks - It's Ash's birthday and all of his friends have gathered together in the woods to reminisce on the time they spent traveling with their favorite Pokemon Trainer. But something's about to happen that could change the way that Ash and Misty look at each other forever…the question is, is it for the better?

Lovesick - Kenny is feeling strange...he feels like he's sick...but is he really ill? Or is he just lovesick?

Madam Zara - When Misty decides to get experimental with her appearance, she finds herself in the hands of a world-famous beautician named Madam Zara. With most of Misty's makeovers ending less than ideally, will this be the one to shatter the mold? And how will Ash react? - Based on a drawing and idea from @hollylu-ships-it which can be found HERE.

Our Own Sunset - Ash and Misty watch the sunset together, but Misty's bothered by it. - Set in the AAML: Diamond and Pearl version universe.

Pokeshipping Week 2015 - My first time participating in Pokeshipping Week ever, hard to believe it was five years ago.

Pokeshipping Week 2016 - This year of Pokeshipping saw me collab with @hollylu-ships-it, you can see the art she put together on her Tumblr page.

Symptoms of Love - Ash and Tracey are hit by a Vileplume's Stun Spore, and Misty has to fend for herself in order to find a cure. But once she gets Ash back to health, Ash still feels many of the same symptoms from before. Why is that?

Tell Me I’m Pretty - It isn't easy being the youngest sister, especially when your oldest sister is getting married and you're the only one without a date for the once in a lifetime event. Misty can't help but feel like she doesn't measure up somehow, but a surprise visit from her closest friend is sure to make her feel pretty once more. - Inspired by THIS piece from @hollylu-ships-it.

The Road Not Taken - When Ash gets some bad news from home, he goes into a depression and starts doubting both himself and the choices he's made. But luckily, someone is there with him to remind him he's loved and cared about. - Based on yet another drawing from @hollylu-ships-it. Look at it HERE.

Warmth - It's New Years Eve, and the recently married Ash and Misty Ketchum are ready to host their first ever holiday party at their home together, but when a snowstorm makes it so no one can arrive safely, Misty is saddened. But will they really end up spending their New Years Eve alone? Or will surprise visitors warm their hearts?

Super Robot Monkey Team Hyperforce Go

Iron Girl - A robot girl who hates the fact she's a robot...will she realize just how important she is or will she continue to simply wallow in self-pity?

War Between the Living and the Dead - The war between the living and the dead has begun, and the Hyperforce has to go up against their biggest challenge yet. But with help from their allies across the galaxy, they can triumph! Or can they? This is my take on what Season 5 would've been, plugging plotholes and making sense out of a series that left us all hanging.

Buzz Lightyear of Star Command

Reflections of a Legend - Buzz Lightyear Personal Log - Stardate 92893.81. I don't quite know how to explain this, or what I'm feeling, so I guess I'll just start talking and tell you what's on my mind. There's someone I just can't get out of my head, and truthfully, I'm not sure I want to. - This is a first-person dive into Buzz’s character.

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Kim Possible

Angels Watching Over Me - Kim and Ron are going down a dark path that could eventually end in their own destruction...literally, not figuratively. When the Sloth dangles over a cliff that holds their fate in the balance, who will come in their time of need? How about...someone they never could have dreamed? - Based on a true story, warning for religious themes.

Busted - Hana wants cookie, Hana tries to get cookie, Hana gets caught trying to get cookie.

The Running Back - All-star Running back Ron Stoppable is about to face the biggest challenge of his life. He's got just a few seconds to win the championship for the Middleton Mad Dogs, but more importantly to him, he's got just a few seconds to make his girlfriend proud.

The True Meaning - Both Ron and Kim are well aware of the true meaning of Christmas, and that's why they're volunteering at a church's Bethlehem Revisited event to spread the word. Kim's happy to help and all, but...why is Ron calling her such a weird name? - Warning for religious themes.

Trick or Treat - Kim is pulling a trick on Ron, will it be a great treat, or is he about to suffer the wrath of Kim Possible? He has no clue, yet.

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Fillmore!

A Promising Tomorrow - Takes place immediately after the end of the episode "A Forgotten Yesterday." Fillmore's lost two of his old friends now and needless to say, he's tired of losing people to the darkness he was lucky enough to escape from. Luckily, Ingrid's there to show him that his efforts to rehabilitate his delinquent friends haven't exactly gone to waste. There's one person who's benefited.

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Miraculous Ladybug

You’re Loved - Adrien Agreste, Chat Noir, different identities but more alike than he would like to admit. No matter who he becomes at any given time, there's always something very important missing in his life. Will he ever find what he's looking for? Or is it possible he's always had it and never realized it?

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Beyblade

We Are One - Kai gave it his all battling against Brooklyn and his bit-beast Zeus. Now, after his close brush with death, Kai must summon the strength to go and support Tyson before disaster strikes the world. But there's no way he's strong enough to do it on his own...but thankfully, he won't have to, which is what Kai is about to learn. Sister story to "I Can't Lose You."

I Can’t Lose You - A week after Tyson's battle against the evil bit-beast Zeus and his trapped blader Brooklyn, the world is slowly making its way back to normal. Kai managed to survive and is recovering in the hospital, and Tyson is getting some much-deserved rest. But when Kenny comes to tell Tyson that Hilary has quit the team, he loses it, and goes to find out why. My first Beyblade story.

Save a Dance For Me - With the all new BBA launching with a gala to celebrate the occasion, Tyson finds himself in the uncomfortable position of needing to ask someone to be his date. He has someone in mind, but will his greatest beyblading rival get in his way and turn out to be his greatest rival in love?

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Teen Titans

Healing Touch - With several Titans pairing up, the lingering emotions are taking a toll on Raven's empathic senses and causing her to lose control of her own feelings. When she gives in and does something completely crazy, it's up to Beast Boy to pull her out of a dark place and bring her back to the light. - There is accompanying artwork from @hollylu-ships-it HERE and HERE.

More Than a Hero - I've learned a lot of lessons under Batman, he taught me everything I would ever need to know about being a superhero, about being Robin...but Starfire taught me how to be Dick Grayson, and she taught me how to fly. - Story from Robin’s POV, accompanying artwork from @hollylu-ships-it is HERE.

Robin Rising - Life is good for Dick Grayson, he's the leader of a team of superheroes he's blessed enough to call his family, and he's about to turn 18 which he figures will open up a whole new world of possibilities for him. But when his old mentor and "father" calls in, showing that he captured a criminal that had eluded the Titans forever, things get flipped upside-down. - Multichapter fic which is part of a much larger universe, plenty of accompanying artwork can be found over on @hollylu-ships-it‘s account. Go give her a follow and fav.

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Sonic the Hedgehog

A Light in Darkness - A small band of heroes go back in time to try and prevent a cataclysmic event that would eventually destroy all of creation as they knew it. But what is the nature of this threat? How dangerous is it? And how far will they have to go in order to stop it from viciously destroying all they hold dear? Features a deep cast of Sonic characters, and a very special OC owned by @e-vay

Anonymous - For Shadow the Hedgehog, Christmas doesn't mean what it means to his friends and the rest of the world. Instead, he has a self-appointed mission he needs to carry out. But this year, he may find something that he's never really had before, and it could change the way Shadow sees Christmas for the rest of his life.

Christmas Wishes - For ten years, Amy Rose has only wanted one thing for Christmas, and she's finally come to accept the reality that she'll never receive it. But a conversation with Rouge rekindles her hope and her Christmas spirit. Will she be let down again? Or will her one wish finally come true this year? Read to find out. (Sister story to my other story titled "Anonymous")

Comfort In the Storm - When a thunderstorm strikes and leaves Cream quivering in fright, it's up to Tails to find a way to alleviate his crush's fears, and maybe even give her a reason to enjoy thunderstorms instead of fearing them.

Cream Adventure DX: Author’s Cut - A redo of an old story. Cream finds a strange statue in the meadow, and she knows just who to go to to figure out what it is, but she gets more than she bargained for when she goes looking for him. What happens?

Dreams of an Absolution - Silver lays awake at night and reflects on his life in this apocalyptic world Iblis has destroyed...but most of his reflections revolve around a certain fire girl with lavender fur. He wants to be happy with her, but a warzone is a bad place to kindle love, and so every night he lays awake, and dreams of an absolution.

Relations - Knuckles has a problem. He's in love...but...that presents a very unique problem...or does it?

Running to the Point of No Return - Sonic is the fastest thing alive, and Amy is told that that's the biggest obstacle keeping her and Sonic away from each other. But what's she supposed to do to keep up with him, when there's NO ONE fast enough to keep up with him?

Scars - Some things that happen in life leave scars behind that go with us for the rest of our lives. For Miles "Tails" Prower, such a thing happened to him in the depths of space many years ago...the loss of his first true love...though the pain weakens and the scars fade, they never go away completely, and Tails has learned to live with and embrace that fact.

Seven Rings and Five Fingers In Hand - A redo of the final battle in Sonic and the Secret Rings, Sonamy style!

The Heart of Chao - Chao are adorable little creatures, and they make great pets for anyone who's looking for something to take care of. But there's more to chao than just being cute, they're filled with more heart and love than anyone can imagine, and that can sometimes lead to bringing others closer together. Here are just a few stories of that very thing happening to our favorite characters.

Trapped In This Machine - Sonic has seemingly fallen madly in love with Amy, but is this sudden romance truly sincere, or is it only skin deep, hiding something sinister underneath? - Inspired by a drawing from @e-vay, found HERE.

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eggytranslations · 3 years

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Volume 1, Chapter 10-Separate Paths

Content warnings: n/a

At night, the two brothers lay in bed with a lit candle by the bedside, chatting face to face.

For the most part, it was Shen Zhen who did the speaking. He talked about the anecdotes and odd happenings of officialdom as well as which new friends he had made recently and what kinds of natures they all had. His expression was animated as he spoke and his words could not be stopped in the slightest.

Shen Qingxuan listened for a moment before he shook his head faintly. He knew that his time in officialdom was still short and that he had not yet experienced those petty schemes, so his spirits were high and full of expectations. What will happen in the future was not yet evident.

In the end though, he was his very own younger brother. After a minute’s hesitation, Shen Qingxuan ended up pouring a basin of cold water on his brimming, enthusiastic heart. You need to be prudent in all things. Before you have distinguished their faction, do not make friends carelessly. Even if you have gotten to know them, keep a distance. It is not too late to wait until later, once you are sure you can associate with them, to treat them sincerely.

Shen Zhen was a little taken aback. After he recovered, although he did not say anything, he was no longer as spirited as before. He merely nodded and agreed.

Shen Qingxuan realized that he was overly blunt with his words. It was not entirely impossible for Shen Zhen to be aware of all these reasonings, but to have it said so candidly made it hard for Shen Zhen to accept emotionally at the moment.

With a sigh, he reached out to stroke his little brother’s head and continued to say, Father’s wealth is great and his influence is broad so I know you do not have worries from that end. But you must think about it. The greater the wealth and influence of the Shen family, the larger we are as a target to rope in for conspiracies within the official circles. You have just entered this space, so your experience is still short and without any roots. If you do not act carefully and join the wrong faction, it will be very difficult for you to turn things around again. Not to mention, if that happens the Shen family wealth may not be able to help; instead, our family might lose everything and become ruined or dead!

The last sentence, after some hesitation by Shen Qingxuan, was nevertheless said out loud. Under the blankets, Shen Zhen’s body shivered once.

“Gege, I know.” Shen Zhen was silent for a long time before he slowly said, “This time I have come up to say goodbye to you.”

This time it was Shen Qingxuan’s turn to be taken aback. Shen Zhen took a glance at him, and then lowered his eyes, saying softly, “It is precisely because I understand these things, so I requested to be transferred to the south and take office at Ningyuan County’s government office. The official documents have already been sent down. I set out at the end of this month. This parting will be as lengthy as the mountains are high and the rivers are long, I do not know when I can return……”

Shen Qingxuan furrowed his brows as he tried to recall where Ningyuan County was located. After thinking for a long time, he remembered that Ningyuan County was a small county seat in an extremely remote part of the south, situated in a hot and humid climate where the folks were fierce, and brigands and bandits ran wild. The people there were all called southern barbarians.

Shen Qingxuan’s brows did not unfurrow until after a very long time. He replied, Going there is good too. If you stay in the capital with this temper of yours, you will never know when you might offend someone. Go there to sharpen yourself. Once you return, gege will set a dinner to welcome you back.

Shen Zhen smiled and reached out his arm to hook his older brother’s neck, burying his head into it and saying softly, “I knew you were going to say this.” After a pause, he continued, “Although that place is a bit more challenging, it is a good place to build foundations for my career goals. Gege need not worry about me. A couple of bandits and brigands are not enough to defeat me. Moreover, diedie has a shop there, so there is no need to worry about clothes and food either……Ten years at most, and I will return.”

Shen Qingxuan was silent as he nodded his head.

This was their first time parting as two brothers who had grown up together from childhood. Although they were distanced by some years of age and were polar opposites, nothing could erase their mutual affection made of blood thicker than water. This greatly saddened both of them.

And after who knows how long, Shen Zhen finally said something. “Gege, I know your health is not good. But you must promise to at least wait until I return.”

Shen Qingxuan was stunned again. When it dawned on him, he could not help but feel grieved. He nodded and promised at once. Of course I will wait for you to come back. Rest assured, I still have not seen you get married and establish yourself, and then shoulder the responsibility of bringing honor to and continuing the Shen family legacy. How could I let go and leave?

Shen Zhen finally laughed, “Wait for me to marry and have a son. I will definitely have two kids and give one to you for sure.”

Shen Qingxuan laughed as well. To this day, he still had not taken a fancy to any girl, so who knows when this hollow promise will be fulfilled. Then he thought that it was not necessarily true that he will not be able to marry and have children. If it was just a matter of carrying on the family line, then it was quite simple. But at the same time this thought appeared in his mind, Yi Mo’s face abruptly popped up at the worst moment, startling him into suppressing and keeping his restless thoughts down all at once.

I must not think about it again. I dare not think.

The two brothers affectionately spoke a good deal of words again. For a time, Shen Qingxuan was unsure if he should tell him about the matter of regaining his ability to speak, including the matter of knowing the serpent as well, to save his younger brother the trouble of worrying about whether he was alive or dead while he was away from home.

But on second thought, he abandoned this idea.

Although he could speak now, he did not know how long this state could last, let alone what kinds of mishaps might occur in the future. He had already experienced the ups and downs of life. Before determining the final outcome, there was no need to make his family worry with him.

What’s more, the future of him and Yi Mo was quite complicated. Neither of them could promise each other anything.

Besides, vows were empty and tedious by nature. Who would believe them?

In the later half of the night, Shen Zhen had fallen fast asleep, appearing docile as he nestled next to his brother, just like when they were kids. No matter how feral or unruly, he was always clever yet sensible in front of his elder brother, putting on a submissive appearance. It seemed as if there were an invisible pair of divine hands that had arranged everything.

Shen Qingxuan smoothed his brow, lost in thought as he looked at him. Even from a young age, there have been people who have pointed out that these eyes were the most similar feature between them, as they had both inherited their father’s eyes.

Their least similar feature was also these eyes.

While Shen Zhen’s eyes were still full of youthful energy and innocence, Shen Qingxuan already possessed a pair of gloomy and exhausted eyes.

Shen Qingxuan sighed without a sound, tucked in their blankets, and in a daze, gradually fell asleep as well.

The next few days were a continuous rush since Shen Zhen needed to hurry on and take up his new post. The entire household was busy running around, not even Shen Qingxuan could decline and had to go down the mountain as well.

Since they were short on hands, Shen Qingxuan sent his own serving boy over to help out. He himself was unable to help, so he sat quietly in a shaded nook.

Shen Zhen busied himself with saying goodbye to his friends and going in and out of taverns and restaurants. When he came home, he also could not rest, and was instead pulled away by Master Shen to bid farewell to his elderly relatives one by one.

Shen Zhen would come find Shen Qingxuan in his free time to relay his hardships, remarking that he did not realize leaving would be this tiring. Naturally, Shen Qingxuan would say something to appease him and follow up by pushing him to another banquet.

Soon, after everything was sorted out, Shen Zhen went on his way.

Shen Qingxuan had also returned to the mountains, settling back into his quiet days. He would count the sunrise and sunset as he listened to the sound of wind blowing through the tree leaves.

Ever since they parted after the hot spring, Yi Mo had not shown up again.

He was not sure what Yi Mo was busy with, or maybe Yi Mo did not want to see him again at all. Every time Shen Qingxuan thought about this, he could not contain his scoff. So what if you do not want to meet. At most, you can hide until next year’s trial, and then you will have to come find me anyways.

But then he thought, What kind of person is Yi Mo? Did he even need to hide from a cripple like him who could not even truss a chicken? He probably did not wish to come.

Was it that he did not wish to come, or was it because he shunned him for being a cripple with dubious intentions? The latter was not impossible, Shen Qingxuan kept thinking, I fear that this yao has lived for millennia and has never encountered such a dishonest and shameless matter. Immediately, this idea was overturned by him. This was a yao who had lived for millennia; what kinds of things had he not seen? It was possible he had already seen all the affairs of the human world, and it was simply only because Yi Mo looked down on him and did not wish to see him.

Shen Qingxuan sat by himself in his room, the thoughts in his head spinning fast, but he was unable to make sense of any of them. Instead, the messier his thoughts became, the more depressed his heart felt.

It was like there was something blocking his chest, he only wanted to howl hysterically, and trash and break some things to feel relief.

Perhaps it was because he had just experienced a period of excitement, he could no longer guard this loneliness as calmly and composedly as he did before.

Sensing his own dangerous mood, Shen Qingxuan felt even more stifled. He really had no outlet to vent, so he simply picked up a stack of strange fox and ghost stories that he had collected previously to read. Except, as soon as he read a page, he wanted to rip out a page. He wanted nothing more than to rip all these things that falsely seduced people’s hearts into fine powder.

What fox girl would receive a good marriage when repaying a kind act? What love-struck fool would receive a marriage alliance after watering a flower spirit……all of it was entirely ridiculous and delusional.

Did the people who wrote these novels not know that “humans and yao walked separate paths,” huh?!

––Humans and yao walked separate paths.

Shen Qingxuan narrowed his eyes, chewing on these six words with gnashed teeth. Turning them over repeatedly again and again, soundlessly biting them out, then swallowing them down again and again. He was angered without reason and his hatred was drawn out even more.

Those words flashed across his mind again, “separate paths that converge to the same end,” but then he did not dare to continue the thought again.

They were a human and a yao, plus they were both men, so this convergence could not bring about the “same” romantic affairs mentioned in stories.

At most, they would be an excuse for others to gossip and add more topics for people to talk about after meals.

Once he internalized this point, Shen Qingxuan’s unwarranted anger skyrocketed even higher.

“Did those novels provoke you?”

Shen Qingxuan whipped his head up only to see Yi Mo standing next to the candle, half of his face hidden behind his messy long hair, the other half shown in the swaying shadow of the candlelight, and a pair of light-as-water eyes staring fixedly at him. His eyes were extraordinarily tranquil through and through.

Shen Qingxuan’s hand trembled once, then those white as snow scraps fell messily and scattered all over the ground.

The originally chaotic thoughts in his head seemed to follow these scraps as they fell to the ground and sank into the background as well. It was suddenly peaceful.

He was neither worried nor panicked, neither happy nor concerned.

He just unhurriedly lifted his head and gazed at the other man’s tranquil eyes. He vaguely thought that they had been like this for thousands of years, as if they were a secret place that had existed since antiquity where no one had visited.

“Yi Mo.”

Shen Qingxuan heard his own voice sound out in this still world and ask word by word with incomparable earnestness:

“Shall our separate paths converge into one?”

Would that be okay?

#a snake encounter #yu she #su hen #danmei #tl #eggytranslations

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erandir · 3 years

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Fic: Tender

Finished and fixed up this old unfinished ficlet for @14daysdalovers

Prompt: A Tender Caress Pairing: Rowan Tabris/Zevran Arainai (pre-relationship) Rating: T Wordcount: 2016 Summary: Rowan returns from the Deep Roads in desperate need of some TLC and a nap. Zevran provides. Or: The boys caught feelings but are too dumb to realize it.

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There was absolutely no sense of time in the Deep Roads. Somehow Oghren seemed to have some concept of the passage of days. As much as days had existed in Orzammar, at least, which was only in a very vague sense. But for Rowan, it had all become one endless expanse of time. A sort of eternal, infuriating twilight. All he knew was that by the time Orzammar was back in sight he was tired, aching, and he never wanted to see the Deep Roads again for as long as he lived.

They staggered out into the marketplace to the great surprise of everyone present, including the guards at the door that had all but sealed them in. Rowan hadn’t looked in a mirror for the Maker only knew how long, but if his companions were anything to judge by - Oghren, Shale, and Morrigan - he probably looked like he’d bathed fully clothed in a pool of mud, blood, and ichor. Actually, that wasn’t far from the truth.

Probably he should have gone straight to the Assembly, but he thought that if he had to deal with dwarven nobility right now on top of everything else he wouldn’t be able to restrain the urge to murder everyone in the room. And that wasn’t conducive to army recruitment. But word of their return somehow crossed the city faster than they did themselves, because as he approached the inn Alistair was coming out to meet them.

“You’re back!” Alistair enthused, then he paused when their appearance finally registered. “You look terrible. Did you find Branka at least?”

“Oh boy did we,” Rowan said. That was going to take some explanation that he did not have the energy for at the moment. He clapped a hand on Alistair’s shoulder, and then pushed past him into the inn. “I’ll tell you all about it, but first I need a bath and the strongest drink this place has.”

The drink came first. Something thick and brown that smelled strongly of dirt and burned like fire going down his throat. It sent him into a short coughing fit, which was eased by a friendly pat on the back and a familiar accented voice commenting, “The strength of the drink here is really its only good quality.”

Zevran was a sight for sore eyes. A very handsome sight for Rowan’s very tired and sore eyes. And one look at Rowan’s haggard face prompted Zevran to signal the bartender for another round.

“Thanks,” Rowan said, voice coming out in something of a rasp as his throat attempted to recover from the first drink. The second went down no easier, but he preferred that at the moment.

“You looked as though you needed it,” Zevran replied.

“How long were we down there?” Rowan asked. Oghren had guessed at the number of days, but without Orzammar’s clocks even he hadn’t been certain. And Rowan wasn’t sure he trusted the dwarf’s judgement fully.

“More than two weeks,” Zevran replied.

“Fuck,” Rowan breathed. That long? Or only that long? The expedition had felt both shorter and longer at the same time. He’d never expected it to take so long, either.

Zevran hummed a sound of agreement. “I will not lie, some of us were beginning to wonder if you would ever return.”

Of those that had been left behind, Alistair and Leliana didn’t seem the type to despair, Wynne was probably pragmatic enough to know a lost cause when she saw one, but was two weeks long enough? That left only Zevran and the dog. “Some of us?”

Zevran favored him with a wan smile. Caught. “I’m very glad to be wrong, in this instance.”

“Glad you were, too,” Rowan agreed. He didn’t want to die in a hellhole like that, and shuddered at the idea that someday he might have no other choice. No, he didn’t want to think about that right now. He wanted another drink, but more than that he wanted to be clean. He pushed himself away from the bar, “I need a bath.”

He didn’t miss the way Zevran eyed him up and down, but without the usual heat behind his gaze. “You do,” he agreed, but not unkindly. “I think it will take some effort to clean up this mess, perhaps you would like some help?”

Rowan was surprised by the offer. He was filthy, and far too exhausted to do anything other than clean up and fall asleep. But he was exhausted, and Zevran had offered. “I wouldn’t say no.”

—————

Orzammar did not have baths large enough for Rowan to fit in comfortably. Still he sunk as deep into the water as he could, letting the warm water seep into the sore muscles of his arms and back. He must have looked slightly ridiculous when Zevran waltzed into the room. Only his head and knees above the water, pale skin mottled with bruises visible now that all the blood and filth was washing off.

Griffin trotted at Zevran’s side, tongue lolling from the side of his mouth and stubby tail wagging. He’d practically bowled Rowan over when he first arrived back at the room, but thankfully the Mabari’s excitement to have his master back had lessened in the past hour.

“I’ve finally located something that claims to be soap,” Zevran announced triumphantly.

Rowan managed an actual smile, though a small one. “Let’s have it, then,” he said, pushing himself into a proper seated position again and holding out a hand.

Zevran produced an oblong lump of off-white lye soap. It wasn’t the prettiest thing in the world, but it would serve. As soon as the soap was in his hands, Rowan lathered up and began scrubbing at his hair, which hadn’t been free of its ponytail for at least two weeks. Almost immediately his fingers became caught in knots and mats that tugged painfully at his scalp. “Ow, shit,” he hissed, pulling his hands away delicately. “I might need a haircut.”

“No!” Zevran gasped in dismay. He knelt beside the bathtub and finally had a good look at the state of Rowan’s hair, then sighed sadly. “Ah, you have not been taking care of your lovely curls.”

“I was rather preoccupied,” Rowan told him.

Zevran hummed softly, a sound equal parts agreement and consideration. “We may be able to save it,” he said, “But it will take some work. I’ll leave the decision with you.”

Rowan considered it. He’d had short hair before, in fact the only reason it was so long now was that he couldn’t be bothered to trim it while on the road. So he wasn’t emotionally attached to it or anything. But Zevran seemed fond of his copper ringlets when he let them down, and he’d grown rather fond of the compliments they earned him. “We can try,” he agreed eventually. “After I’ve bathed.”

“That seems wise,” Zevran agreed. “I’ll fetch my comb, and when you are clean, we will see if we can rescue your hair.”

Rowan only nodded and went back to washing himself as Zevran left once more. By the time the Crow returned he had finished scrubbing down most of his body and the bath water had turned dull reddish brown. He was still tired and sore, but he felt more alive than he had in days. He had just finished dressing when Zevran returned with more than just a comb in hand. He brandished also a brush and a pair of scissors, “In case we are not successful.”

They settled cross-legged on the bed, Zevran behind him working the knots from his hair. It didn’t hurt as much as Rowan had expected. The assassin’s hands were surprisingly gentle, and the light tug on his scalp was somehow almost comforting.

He must have fallen asleep at some point, because Rowan was next aware of waking up on the too-hard, too-short dwarven bed, blankets tangled around his legs, and the light of only a single candle to illuminate the room. He couldn’t tell what time it was, and he was really beginning to hate the way every hour bled together down here. How could the dwarves stand it?

Zevran was gone. That wasn’t a surprise. They never slept together unless they had slept together. But Rowan surprised himself by feeling disappointed. Last night - was it night? - had been unexpectedly nice, even though they had been as chaste as Chantry sisters. It had been a long time since Rowan had allowed himself to let his guard down and be that vulnerable around anyone.

It was because of the Deep Roads, he told himself as he climbed out of bed. He’d been alone in the dark for too long, starved of touch and friendship and safety.

Griffin was asleep on the floor beside the bed. Properly passed out, paws twitching as he chased squirrels in his dreams. Rowan’s stomach reminded him that he hadn’t eaten in far too long - he’d given up on guessing at the passage of time - and he stepped carefully over the dog’s bulk.

That’s when he noticed his armor. Before his bath, Rowan had left the leathers in a disheveled heap at the foot of the bed to be dealt with when he had the energy to do so. He knew they shouldn’t be left too long caked in filth or else risk damaging the leather irreparably, but they’d kept for 2 weeks, they would keep one day more. But now when he went to fetch his boots and something more substantial than his underclothes to get breakfast in, he discovered the armor had been moved.

Each piece had been laid out across the room’s low stone table, and some of it had been cleaned already. His sword and offhand dagger were sitting atop their scabbards polished and, a quick test with his thumb confirmed, sharpened. The worst of the filth on his armor had been wiped off, with attention to the joints and rivets that risked rusting or weakening, but the leather itself was still in need of a good oiling before he had to face anyone important. His boots had been cleaned of caked on mud and then polished to a shine that almost disguised how old and beat up they were.

That sight alone was enough to tell Rowan who had gone to all this effort for him. Zevran. But why? This must have taken him hours, which gave Rowan and indication of how long he'd been asleep, but why would he go out of his way like this. A little bit of tidying up he might understand, but this was beyond that. And this was on top of everything Zevran had done for him before Rowan passed out. Passed out while having his hair brushed like a child. He would have expected Zevran to be annoyed, not to have tucked him into bed like an invalid and then spent the next few hours making sure his gear was in proper working order.

It didn't make any sense.

They'd slept together, yes, plenty of times. They were friends outside the bedroom, too. He even trusted Zevran with his life in a fight. But to have someone else take care of his weapons and armor was oddly intimate.

Everything about the night before had been oddly intimate, he realized. Now that his brain was awake and properly rested he realized that Zevran’s behavior of the night before had been unusual. There was no way he could have expected Rowan capable of anything other than passing out immediately after getting clean. So it definitely hadn’t been innuendo when he’d offered his assistance. He’d just genuinely wanted to help? That seemed so out of character.

Rowan’s stomach chose that moment to remind him loudly of how empty it was. He shook thoughts of Zevran out of his head and reached for his boots. There would be plenty of time to puzzle out the Crow’s motives when he had food in his stomach and the political mess was finally dealt with. For now, he had work to do.

#14 days of dragon age lovers prompts event #14daysdalovers #zevran arainai #Zevran/Warden #zevran/tabris #rowan tabris #warden tabris

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widowsofchaos · 4 years

Text

Kool Aid, i

summary: One phone-call is all it takes to unravel regret.

pairing: Winterwitch (Bucky x Wanda) x black!reader

warnings: mentions of drug abuse, vulgarity, domestic abuse, childhood abuse, mentions of mental health; eventual smut, angst.

a/n: Beta the glorious @heli0s-writes aka mom. Thanks for your incredible insight, and commentary; and for teaching this rusty writer to be better!

ao3 // kool-aid masterlist

do not repost my works.

Inky indigo falls over Pennsylvania.

Moonless darkness cloaks the fifty-acre land. Skittering stars twinkle and gleam in the night sky like uncut diamonds - crickets chirp across the freshly cut lawn. The low hum of security light sensors buzz around the perimeter as patients sleep off their detoxed bodies.

Security guards slip into hazy slumber in their seats at the front lobby. Jumpy crickets ignite sensors and the white light filters through the one-window of a shared room painted creamy white, rays of artificial light flares upon two bodies.

“I burned and ached for wings. A child born from hate learns to self-loath like a badge of honor.”

A watery sigh infiltrates the deafening silence, interrupting your overflowing thoughts. “Jesus - that’s heavy.” The crumpled paper held between two brown spidery fingers, handing it back to you, you huffed a hollow chuckle, as you retrieved the tiny note-pad.

Beyond crumpled due to constant refolding, an anxious tick you never quite kicked, you mumbled a genuine thanks.

It’s difficult letting strangers read your poetry, you feel as if your skin was peeled off, and exposed raw for the salts of judgment. Writing has always been an escape from reality, releasing pent up emotions onto paper. Unfortunately it wasn’t enough to stop the binging.

But with MJ, you never felt more safer. You were comfortable. You read her lines of Shakespeare, both sharing books and music. She taught you odd historical facts - recites buzzfeed unsolved mysteries to exact memory, facts about serial killers, and feminism -- observant, bold, honest -- a whizz this spitfire is.

It’s been a long-time since you felt the comfort of another person, just a year ago - you were abandoned, thrown out into the cold by the very ones who promised a better future. How naive, you actually started to joke that the drugs were finally starting to rot your brains for believing such bullshit.

A cruel joke, all the day-dreams, obsessing over the tiny details, because when you’re in love, all the tiny minuscule moments of the ones you yearn for is pure brilliance. As if they could do no wrong. Mesmerized with moon eyes as your beating heart bleeds over the stitches in your fore-arm.

Love is a monster. A beast that feeds on the mush of your scrambled brains. Destructing your flesh, ripping your skin apart with its claws, gnawing on bones, till finally it reaches your soul - that's love.

You fall hard, deep within hell’s pits, but it’s agonizingly slow. It doesn’t bring the best out of you, because life is unfair, and humans tend to savor evil acts of betrayal.

Layers of trauma, and depression unravel - the strings that attached your leaning limbs are flailing, you become yourself a clingy, and needy little beast. Bury it under grave dirt, the maw of pure unadulterated pain. The falsehood of euphoria dwindles from a ball of sunshine, to a dying star particle.

You lost what made you years ago.

Moving on a greyhound to PA to a pristine rehabilitation center was meant to recover, maybe learn how to be independent emotionally - recover from drugs, you weren’t too sure.

You shouldn’t have talked to MJ, confess your dirty secrets, insecurities, the relationship with your parents - except for a particular one - that one needs to wither in ashes.

MJ understands. The pain, and the emptiness. She’s been there, one in the same. No one understands, especially your parents. Not for the lack of effort, or so you think. Mom, and dad supported you physically: put clothes on your back, fed your belly, gave you your prescribed medicine - although muttered chastised indirects on how pills were unnecessary, you weren’t ill enough. If you’re not dying, or suffering from broken bones and bruises - you’re not ill.

They were your parents - it’s their obligation by default.

It’s duty, not love.

The addictions crept slowly over the years, progressing into aggressive vices - suffocating, but balms of comfort. You became a masochist to your demons: you would hurt in the aftermath, but kept running for more-- that one moment in time - as if you were floating into emptiness.

No one can hurt you there - where you are nothing. Weightless nirvana. Self-hate festers in your mind, you don’t even feel like your breathing. Then it happens - the fall. Your breathing slows down, rapid choppy spurts - your limbs become numb, your mind fizzles like TV static.

You know a lot of people hate you, and you understand that - you hate yourself too. If you could turn the hands of time, and change yourself, you would. You don’t do it for yourself, but you do it for your mom, and your dad - although you resent them at the best of times, but ever so the people pleaser. And now for MJ.

“You’re beyond talented. I wish I was good at something -”You cut her off, “No, don’t say that. You have so much potential. You just have to unlock it. I never met a person so intelligent.” You turn your head facing her side profile, admiring her button nose, and the smooth slope to the tip. MJ side-eyes you, her face straight forward, a curled smirk before she winks at you. “You really think so?” Hazily smiled at her, you nodded.

“I know so.”

You mourn for the girl you used to be.

You wish you were like a girl like MJ.

Beneath a snarky girl is revived dreams. With her brains, beauty, intellience - yet tenderness; she will make it far in life.

You? You’re surprised you made it past eighteen. Maybe God is gonna snuff you out at thirty. Damn, you hope so.

It’s all in your head.

Maybe you’re not trying hard enough?

You don’t want to get better hard enough - you’re lazy. If you did, you would be feeling better now.

You want to get better - but how? Fake it till you make it, right? Crying spells, and the dissociation hidden from the outside world. Exhaustion from laying in bed all day, the copious amount of shedded weight, the purple hues under your eyes - one time, you couldn’t leave the bed for days.

Refusing to relieve your bladder, all the urine just building - the cramps were monstrous. Got a uterine infection, and spent a few days laid up on a hospital bed.

Why bother? Why try? You’re too hurt to give one single fuck - your garden is barren any fucks to give. Slowly die, just lay in bed, and do nothing. Maybe one day, you’ll disappear. What a miracle that would be.

Cause quite frankly, you’re just fucking exhausted.

“Hey-” a poke on your ribs, “Where did you go?” MJ has been trying to gain your attention, but you slip hazily into that decrypted space, as always in that depressing bubble. It worries MJ, but doesn’t surprise her. Not anymore anyways.

“Nowhere special.” Your tongue turning sour from the kool aid you had earlier, nervously rubbing against your teeth. You wiggle your body more into your old navy blue university sweater, skin seeking desperately for warmth.

Like a child seeking their own personal woobie blanket - your bird-nest hair sticks to your face, too tired to brush it, MJ usually badgers you for her to detangle the curls and braid it.

MJ’s nimble fingers caress your hairline, weaving it’s travel into your matted curls, “Do you wanna talk about it?” Not yet. “Later, I’m really tired. Can we just rest a bit?” you ask, a bit breathless. Panic of abandonment sores through your veins. Your throat constricts, as your first tear of the night threatens to fall.

Your body instinctively twists, and shifts into MJ’s caring arms. “Sure.” A loving embrace, a friend. Finally a fucking friend - while your old ones spilt to find their own purpose, and sobriety.

All contact cut off - because of that one night. That fatal night. A croaked laugh slips from your plump lips, the cracks of your shield splinters, and shatters. Tears form at your squinted eyes, a smile reaches your ears, stretching your brown cheeks, and it hurts.

All of it hurts.

MJ shushes you, engulfing you in her arms, the smell of laundry detergent floods your lungs. It’s a certain smell your nose is familiar with; a homebody smell - anonymous in description, and name but nostalgic.

Smells of the past - you nuzzle your nose into her loose fitted shirt, the flaps of her red checkered plaid shirt curtain your face, a quick kiss on the forehead.

Wrists tucked against her shirt, afraid to let go. Please God, let me have just one friend.

“It’s okay.” MJ, a Queens girl, forced here by her parents, has seen pain like you have. Thin razor scars on her arms, and thighs tell stories of a frightened girl who seeks to feel alive through pain. Cuts, and slashes - to remind herself, ‘Hey I’m still here.’

Rubbing circles on your scalp, “I gotta brush your hair soon.” She understands, and does it with sincerity. Encourages you what you need to do to take care of you, and somehow you listen to her advice. Listens to your troubles, and instead of mindless efforts to move, she says things like ‘It’s okay, take your time. I’m here for you.’ ‘You’re important to me.’

The only good thing rehab has done for you is bring her into your life. All the droning repetitive phrases uttered out of that tyrant therapist of yours, ‘How does that make you feel?’ ‘Um, shitty. As always. Now can I please get some fucking valium?’ The kumbaya bullshit in group therapy is - no, not for you.

The fake closeness, holding hands for inner strength and even passed judgement bestowed by fucking assholes who abuses the same drugs as you, but different reasons - upon each other. It makes you forget how to breathe - the compulsive urge to count your breathing has gotten worse over the weeks.

Family workshops? Choke. Die. Rebuke it. You screamed, and threw furniture across the facility like a feral she-beast - shouting on the top of your lungs that you rather sodomize yourself with your own detached right arm then confront the very ones who fucked you up since birth.

Two needles of tranquillisation settled your lungs, and brain - that was a spectacular one-woman show of mental deterioration. You slept it off for a day, and a half.

Nine months of being rehab buddies turned into a full-fledged friendship.

Thank God for MJ.

A disembodied voice beckons you out of a dreamless slumber, bracing above you as you clutched onto a knocked out MJ. The blinding fluorescent tubes shine through the dreary dark room. A constant call of your name. Through bleary vision, you croaked, “Yes, God?” A low timbre of your name. Scolding an overgrown child. “Y/n, there’s a phone call for you at the main desk. It’s your mom.” You grumbled at Ms. Brown, a nurse administrator.

There’s an edge to her voice, it’s odd - she’s usually patient, and speaks in kind tones.

“Okay.” You groaned, your eyes too dry, and groggy to roll back to the base of your skull of annoyance. Carefully detaching your arms, and legs that were tucked in MJ’s petite frame, crawling out of the nest of wrinkled paper-thin sheets, as Ms. Brown awaited with her hip leaning against the door-frame.

Padding out of the room in white socks, black shorts, and an oversized pull over. Trailing behind the massive presence of flesh and bone, like a baby chick to a hen, down the hall to the main desk in the lobby. Embarrassed by your repulsive state, you hide your ratty hair in your hoodie, and stash your chewed nails in the pockets. Ms. Brown picks up the black rotary phone that laid on its back on the shiny desk. Was that pity in her eyes?

You searched for the clock that hung above on the wall, 3:38 am. You snarled, your mother must have a good reason to bother you.

It’s been about five months of no contact with her, your spine crawled at the anticipation to hear her voice. Clutching the phone between ear, and shoulder, “Hi, mom.” you deadpanned.

A sniffle, then a sob. Your brows furrowed, “Mom, what’s wrong?” mindlessly your fingers toy with the curled extension cord. “It’s your father, baby.” Your chest began to cave, your eye twitched, “What’s wrong with daddy?” your chapped lips spoke closer to the speaker, your knuckles whitening from caramel brown.

“Oh honey -” cut the theatrics, and spill it. “He’s dead.” A light in your head went out, your pupils widened, your breath stopped, your lungs shriveled to ashes, “How?” you wheezed.

Is this shock? You couldn’t tell - your mother’s nasally voice drowns into white noise, unshed tears form at the brim, all you heard was heart-attack - perhaps two funerals are at the horizon, you’re tipping at the iceberg - a potential asthma attack.

Ms. Brown keeps ushering the words, ‘focus on your breathing.’ A caring hand placed between your shoulder blades, rubbing in circles.

“You have to come home.” You wretchedly spit on the marbled desk, dry-heaved on the spot at those words, and Ms. Brown quickly snagged the phone from your hand, holding your trembling form in her soft doughy arms. “She needs to lie down for a moment. It’s three in the morning, so she needs some sleep. I’ll make sure she’s okay …” all the bulbs in your head burn out, an empty cranium.

You have to come home.

Back to Brooklyn.

Ms. Brown leads you back to your room, constantly asking if you’re okay. You reply robotically, yes. Tending to you, tucking you into your own bed as if you would fall by the sims. Cocooning you in the white blanket, reaches up to your chin. You close your eyes, trying to numb yourself.

You wait.

Till her footfalls fade, with a click of the lock. Wait at least sixty seconds, brown hues open with a careless flutter of the lashes.

A moment of peace - now search. Perked on the tips of your toes sinking into your mattress, you skillfully remove the ceiling tile above your bed, your hand snuck inside, c’mon, c’mon, where is it? Aha! Stretched fingers glide a plastic packet out of its hideaway. A little jiggle between your fingers, white powder of delight - a morning snack.

Skip over to MJ’s bed, you grasped her arm, and draped it over your shoulder. “What happened?” MJ mumbled, her eyes still shut closed, a beat of silence. “My dad is dead.” MJ’s eyes peel open at the news, “How?” You love that she doesn’t ask if you’re okay, because you’re far from it.

“Heart-attack.” MJ hugged your body tightly against hers. “The last time I talked to him, I screamed that I hated him.” Your voice wavered, muffled at the crook of her neck, “I never got to say goodbye.” MJ harshly swallowed the bile at her throat, she didn’t say a word. There’s no need, the impassive cadence was enough confirmation - the grief hasn’t fully ingrained in you.

“You’re gonna save some for me, right?” A half-hearted joke.

The packaged cocaine still hidden in the confines of your pocket bellows for your nostrils, to rub it against your teeth and gums - your parched tongue.

“Of course.”

You blink.

Another blink.

You sighed a distant exhale, your swollen heart dying against your cavity, and you blink.

All you can do is blink.

#buckybarnesplumwhore wrote this #winterwitch x reader #scarlet witch x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x black!reader #bucky barnes smut #scarlet witch x reader smut #scarlet witch smut #marvel fanfic #modern au #avengers x reader

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