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stxphxn-strange · 3 years

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(no) rest for the innocent

summary: Tony wasn’t even on trial, but the jury found him guilty and he couldn’t disagree.

a/n: idk last night i was thinking about tony dealing w survivor’s guilt after endgame (and IW) so i threw this together, tw for mention of death and implied thoughts of suicide

“Good evening, Doctor.” FRIDAY’s warm, pleasant voice always reminded Stephen of home and cinnamon scented candles. “How was your trip?”

“Too long for a meeting that could’ve been handled over email. Or through carrier pigeon, as Tony would say,” Stephen replied as his cloak sailed off down the hall.

He washed his hands carefully, drying them on an Iron Man dish towel that Peter had given them as a joke wedding gift before putting the kettle on.

As the water was boiling, he noticed a covered plate on the kitchen counter. There was an obnoxiously orange piece of paper in front of it, which made Stephen smile. Tony always left him little notes on purposefully electrifying paper, that way they were easy to find.

The sorcerer’s smile only widened as he read the note.

Steph—

I wasn’t sure when you’d be back, but I decided to make you dinner anyway. But not because I’m missing you and wanted to surprise you, I just accidentally cooked too much. You know how that happens sometimes and you just end up with an ungodly amount of chicken parm? Life’s funny like that.

Anyway, I’m in the lab. I had some good ideas earlier and I wanted to start them while I still felt productive. Welcome home sweetheart, and if you go to bed before I do (because you probably will, you responsible asshole you), sweet dreams and goodnight.

Love, Tones

PS— Orange you glad you met me? … don’t answer that, I just couldn’t help it and had to write that down.

Stephen rolled his eyes fondly. “Fri, will you tell Tony that even though he’s not funny, I’m very glad I met him?”

FRIDAY was quiet for a few moments before responding. “Boss says, quote, ‘fuck you Gandalf, I’m hilarious,’ unquote.”

Stephen smiled, heating up his meal before sitting down to eat. He flipped through a magazine while he ate, FRIDAY turning on some soft jazz music as background noise until Stephen cleaned up and left the kitchen. After a refreshing shower, the sorcerer found himself in his most comfortable pjs and slippers as he walked through the house. Stephen wasn’t sure if he was going to bed yet, but he wanted to see Tony (and maybe he wanted a kiss or two or even three).

The music in the lab automatically lowered when Stephen shut the door behind him, and Tony looked up with an expression that could only be described as tired.

Actually, he looked exhausted. Weary. Barely holding himself together. Stephen wasn’t a thesaurus, but very concerned about his husband.

Tony was trying to smile, but he seemed too exhausted to do that and just gave up, not saying anything as Stephen sat beside him.

“Hi.” Stephen leaned over and softly kissed his husband’s temple. “Thanks for cooking for me, you didn’t have to.”

Tony shrugged. “I had a lot of energy earlier, and I accidentally cooked way too much. Maybe it was intentional, you know I’d take any excuse to go out of my way for you.”

His words said one thing, but his tone betrayed him. His voice was brittle, hard, and almost staticky. Stephen thought he sounded like a rusted hinge that was trying not to cry out for repairs… or maybe that analogy only made sense given where they were.

Stephen kissed him again as Tony sat back at his desk, closing his well-used sketchbook. “You alright?”

“Yeah. Tired I guess.” Tony sounded as unconvinced as Stephen felt.

“Come to bed with me,” Stephen offered. “I’ll bore you to sleep by telling you about the meeting.”

Tony laughed hollowly. “That bad?”

“I don’t know how to describe it, but it was a waste of time. Even Wong was bored, and he watches the Antiques Roadshow remake for fun,” Stephen replied. He yawned and leaned against Tony’s side.

“I see what you’re doing,” Tony murmured, trying to be lighthearted. He was just feeling some kind of way right now, he felt serious and was so endeared by his husband that it hurt.

“What am I doing?” Stephen asked, resting his head on Tony’s shoulder.

“Being cute and sweet so I’ll go to bed and let you be the big spoon,” Tony accused. “And maybe I just really fucking need a hug, but… it’s working.”

Stephen shifted and pulled Tony into his arms, holding the mechanic close as he went lax.

“My Boss Is Singing Closing Time Protocol please, Fri,” Tony mumbled.

“Goodnight Boss, goodnight Doctor,” the AI replied, beginning to run the lab’s standard closing protocol.

“Portal?” Stephen asked. Tony was getting better with going through portals, but some days were harder than others. Stephen didn’t know what tonight would be like and opted to ask, selfishly wanting to make sure Tony got some rest as soon as possible.

He was so out of it by that point that Stephen wasn’t sure if Tony registered the question, but he nodded slowly and trusted Stephen to lead him through it and into their bed.

Despite “resembling a sloth clinging to a tree bough,” (Tony’s words) Stephen was intuitive and knew when not to hug Tony. Even when he was asleep, if Tony woke up thrashing or fighting against something in a dream, Stephen let him go.

Tonight was a bit different. Stephen wasn’t brought to the edge of reality by Tony thrashing in their bed or accidentally tangling himself in their sheets, so he assumed everything was fine. That was until the sorcerer hugged his husband closer, still mostly asleep and just following his instinct, and Tony outright begged Stephen to let go of him. He wasn’t quite awake, but Stephen backed off immediately and heard Tony trip over his own feet as he left the room. The sorcerer fell asleep again after that, trying to stop the sound of Tony’s broken plea from cementing itself in his memory. When Tony climbed back into bed some time later, Stephen was stirring a little bit more. Tony hid his face in Stephen’s collarbone and said nothing, his breathing still slightly erratic.

“Sorry if I woke you up,” he mumbled.

“Don’ be,” Stephen replied, his voice unsure whether or not to wake up.

“Will you hold me again?” Tony asked pleadingly, his voice almost imperceptible.

Stephen wordlessly obliged, kissing the top of his head. “Whatever’s bothering you… you can talk to me about it. When you’re ready. And you don’t have to, but I’m here for you.”

Tony nodded. “It feels like too much right now. What I’m thinking about, I mean. I need time to process, I guess.”

“Okay,” Stephen said simply. “But I’m here for you whenever.”

“I know. I love you,” Tony replied.

Stephen began to trace soothing patterns on Tony’s back. “Love you Tones.”

++++

Tony didn’t seem any more rested the next day, but his confident Tony Stark™ pose seemed natural. He’d easily be able to fool people who didn’t know him as well as his family did. So it was a “fake it until you make it” kind of day, and Tony’s energy was on a strict schedule. There was only so much he could take today, and if his teammates wanted to call him selfish then that was their choice.

It would just go in one ear and out the other, especially this late in the day and after brutal team training. Tony was close to skipping the meeting, but a cutting remark in the hallway made him change his mind. Why did they always act like it was breaking news when Tony needed to step back from something anyway? He was just as human as anyone else, and the world was happy to throw responsibilities on his unenhanced, steady shoulders just because he was a natural caretaker.

The arguments about Tony’s quiet, withdrawn demeanor started two minutes into the meeting. Stephen was ready to defend his husband as soon as they got to the conference room, Tony collapsing into a chair and leaning his head against the cool metal of the table.

He didn’t want to talk today, and Stephen didn’t want him to.

“It’s not nap time, Stark.” There was a small hint of fondness in Natasha’s cold, clipped voice.

Tony was already regretting his decision to show up, wishing he hadn’t told Stephen again and again that he was fine. He wasn’t, and they both knew it. Everyone knew it, but Tony knew better than to advocate for himself in front of his… colleagues.

“I don’t even remember what we’re meeting about,” Tony muttered, looking up enough to address whoever was talking to him.

Rhodey took a seat beside Tony, encouragingly patting his back. “You good?”

“I’m fine, Honeybear,” Tony replied. He was sitting between his two favorite people, and that helped him feel a little more grounded. “I just didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”

Someone scoffed. “I don’t think anyone’s slept right in months. And don’t say you haven’t slept in years, Stark. We don’t need a story about how everything you’ve ever done has led to years of sleepless nights. We know already. Put it in a book or something and make the team more money so I can have better arrows.”

Stephen was two seconds away from dropping the archer into the Dark Dimension, or flipping a table. He wasn’t sure how to handle the man yet, still taken aback by the rudeness and stupidity of his comment. “Barton, what the fuck—”

“Steph, don’t bother with him,” Tony said. He stood up, forcing his tiredness into a corner and giving his coworkers a confident glare. “Pardon me for giving it my all and being a bit tired as a result. Now I’m going to get an ice pack for my shoulder and maybe a cup of coffee. Does anyone want anything?”

“I’ll take a—”

“Get it yourself, you know where the kitchen is.”

For dramatic effect (and moral support), the cloak landed on Tony’s shoulders and billowed out as he left the room. He returned with the aforementioned ice and coffee, and a mug of tea for Stephen.

“You didn’t have to do that sweetheart, but thank you,” Stephen said appreciatively.

“That’s why I wanted to,” Tony replied. He relaxed a little into his chair, starting to believe he could get through the meeting.

Then, like clockwork, Clint opened his mouth to complain.

“Why did you bring him tea and nothing for the rest of us?” He whined.

“Doesn’t Tony do enough for you?” Stephen asked, innocently taking a sip of his tea. It was his afternoon green tea, made exactly the way he liked it.

Tony was always so sweet and attentive with his loved ones, it warmed Stephen’s heart. The sorcerer stifled a laugh as Rhodey poured half of Tony’s coffee into his own empty mug.

“Thank you,” the colonel said impishly. “Consider the roommate tax paid for this month.”

Tony tried to smile at the old inside joke, but Stephen noticed that it fell flat.

“Are we done with the interruptions? We need to talk about what’s out there. We don’t know if Thanos is the exception or the rule, and—”

Tony stopped listening. Clint’s snootiness was doing his head in, but the idea of another threat, another thing, another colossus he’d have to conquer and survive if his luck had anything to say about it… that was the breaking point.

Tony didn’t have a good relationship with luck. He didn’t really believe in it, but apparently it believed in him. Because Tony was lucky. It was true that he was lucky in meeting his husband, his friends, and his family, but this was a different kind of luck. Tony was intelligent and skilled, shrewd and savvy, and there was virtually nothing he couldn’t do or solve, except for one thing.

He was constantly lucky, constantly cheating death.

And he didn’t realize that he was hyperventilating, didn’t recall dropping his head into his hands. He didn’t recall that he’d just walked out in the middle of the meeting after a minute, didn’t realize that he was home when he opened his eyes.

Tony was home, in his spot on the couch in Stephen’s library. Stephen was sitting beside him, quietly watching a documentary or something like that. Tony was laying down, his head in Stephen’s lap with the cloak draped over him like a blanket. The crimson fabric continued to cling to him as he sat up, further proving Tony’s point that Levi liked him best, but he wasn’t in the mood to banter now. He just appreciated the support and the warmth of his sorcerer and their shared, sentient blanket.

With some hesitancy, Tony leaned over and rested his head on Stephen’s shoulder. They locked eyes for a minute, Tony’s gaze deliriously bright and vacant.

Stephen didn’t know what to say or do to make the man trembling in his arms feel better, but started by hugging him closer and softly stroking up and down his spine.

“I’m sorry,” Tony whispered, lowering his head and hiding against Stephen’s chest.

“No apologies,” Stephen reminded him. “I don’t want or need them, and you don’t have to explain yourself.”

“I have to give a good reason,” Tony said, his voice beginning to shake. “Everything I do needs a reason.”

“Why? Says who?” Stephen asked. He was more thinking aloud, half expecting Tony to leave the question unanswered.

For a while, he did. He just sat, furiously trying to blink back tears and gather his thoughts as Stephen held him protectively.

“Sometimes I think about… things,” Tony began vaguely. “And people. And places. I guess I just like nouns.”

At this point, he didn’t even know if he was trying to deflect or just tell a joke, but his attempt at humor fell flat. He tried to force a laugh, but halfway through it turned into a painful sob. He cried harder with each breath, ignoring the ache in his chest. Tony barely listened when Stephen encouraged him to breathe, but eventually he gave into his exhaustion and listened to his lungs.

His stupid lungs, which apparently were just as stubborn as his brain.

“I can’t keep doing this,” Tony whispered. “I shouldn’t have survived Afghanistan, New York, Sokovia, Siberia, or Titan. I can’t keep cheating death, Stephen. I don’t want to. I don’t want to be lucky and survive when the damage I’ve caused, the damage I claim full responsibility for, has taken so many lives. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt or killed for me.”

Stephen pressed a soft kiss to his hair, feeling Tony’s guit and fatigue as if it was his own.

“I don’t want to do this,” Tony repeated. “I’m probably just spiraling or being needlessly selfish, but I… I don’t know.”

“You’re taking on too much responsibility where you don’t need to,” Stephen said. “I know that’s easy for me to just say from the outside, but you aren’t the only Avenger. It’s about time the team, if you can even call them that, takes accountability for their actions and stops bulldozing you with their problems. You aren’t selfish, Tones. You’re tired and overworked, and you deserve a break. You deserve to breathe, to just exist without feeling like you have to look over your shoulder or justify your every step.”

“I don’t think I know how to even do that anymore,” Tony replied. “And I don’t deserve it.”

“You do,” Stephen argued. “And rest assured I’ll keep telling you that. And I’ll keep telling you how much I love you, because I really do.”

Tony smiled sadly, trying to press himself closer to Stephen if that was even possible. “I love you too.”

He was starting to settle down, soothed by a flurry of soft kisses in his hair and the gentle brushes up and down his spine, when FRIDAY quietly spoke up. She almost sounded remorseful.

“Mister Parker is requesting one or both of you in the lab, whenever it’s convenient,” she began. “And he’s asked me to assure you that it’s nothing major.”

Tony sighed, sitting up again. “I’ll investigate.”

Stephen shook his head. “No, let me. I’ll tell Peter that you’re resting, and he’ll understand.”

“I don’t want him to think I don’t care,” Tony whispered.

“He would never think that. You know how he gets about making sure you take care of yourself, and Peter knows with certainty that you care about him. Our son is much more mature than the Avengers,” Stephen replied.

“I still feel bad,” Tony said.

“I know. I can promise him Thai food if that’ll make you feel better?” Stephen suggested, half jokingly.

“It actually would,” Tony admitted. “FRIDAY, will you schedule a Thai food delivery for 6:30pm please?”

“Scheduled,” she replied simpy. She still sounded apologetic for disturbing them right as Tony was falling asleep, but maybe Stephen imagined that.

The sorcerer stood up gracefully, covering Tony with another blanket as the cloak wrapped a bit tighter around him. “Look after yourself and relax, or get some sleep. No one’s expecting anything from you right now Tones, alright? I love you.”

Tony nodded, a little smile on his face as Stephen kissed him again. “Love you.”

He really wanted to sleep. He actually put effort into falling asleep, which was something he never thought he’d do, and of course sleep didn’t come easily. Sleep never came easily, but the memories did. It was all too easy for Tony to get caught in a thought stream, whether he was planning a surprise, inventing, or remembering unpleasantries. Today he was overwhelmed by guilt, readily convincing himself that he was a selfish failure like Howard Stark and his teammates liked to say. It was too easy to get lost in their ire and wanting to please everyone, and Tony had given up so much of his agency just to try and make other people happy.

It was exhausting, and he didn’t even feel like he’d succeeded at that.

The mechanic started tearing up again as he continued to think in a circular pattern, faintly aware of the Cloak trying to comfort him. It was a sweet, welcome gesture, and Tony let it happen and let himself cry. He was still laying there in tears when Stephen came back in half an hour later.

“Pete says he hopes you feel better,” Stephen said, returning to his spot and pulling Tony close. “And I told him to just go ahead and eat whenever he’s hungry, or when the food gets here.”

Tony just nodded, feeling relieved and supported in Stephen’s arms again. He nodded again, as if trying to shake the unending self-deprecating thoughts from his head, before saying anything. “Sounds good.”

tags: @salty-ironstrange-shipper @stark-strange-love2 @chocopiggy @katninjagirl97 @kitkatfat15 @taruyison @funkylittlebidiot

#tony stark #stephen strange #ironstrange #not endgame compliant #non infinity war compliant #peter parker #ironstrange and spiderson #not avengers friendly lowkey #not clint barton friendly #james rhodey rhodes #tw mention of character death #tw death mention #tw sui mention

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heauxplesslydevoted · 4 years

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Fire & Desire (Ethan x MC)

Warning: NSFW, 18+

Summary: After the funeral, Naomi heads to Ethan’s apartment for comfort. Let’s pretend that 30 diamond scene in chapter 12 didn’t happen, okay? I made up 95% of this.

A/N: Guys, I have an embarrassing amount of rewrites/drafts of this on my computer. Pls enjoy.

~v~

In order to survive the past few days, Naomi has made it her mission to get through things one step at a time. Her first goal was to survive the toxin. She did. Then it was to just get well and be discharged from the hospital. The last step was to make it through Danny and Bobby’s joint memorial service in one piece. Not only did she do that, but she delivered a eulogy flawlessly, while her friends and colleagues all fell apart at the seams and waited for her to do the same.

But now that it’s all over, now that there’s no goal to work towards especially since Naveen won’t let her back in the hospital without clearance from a therapist, Naomi has never felt more lost or out of sorts in her life.

After the memorial, Naomi went home with her roommates and she regrets it. Jackie and Elijah can barely look at her without giving her pity glances, Sienna has been trying to feed her nonstop, and Aurora has convinced them all that she’s spiraling due to her meltdown at Ethan earlier that day. So she hid in her bedroom, pretending to be asleep simply because she was tired of them.

But sleep evades her. Outside of a quick 15 minute power nap, Naomi hasn’t been able to sleep, thoughts of being back in that hospital room never too far from her mind. Every time she closed her eyes, the fear took over, gripping her and refusing to let go.

So that’s how she ended up here, in Ethan’s apartment, on his couch, nursing a glass of scotch. Being at home wasn’t an option and there’s no one else she’d rather be with, so as soon as her roommates went to bed, Naomi slipped out and made her way across town to Ethan’s place. Ethan was shocked when he found her outside of his apartment at midnight, especially with the way their last conversation ended. He wanted to scold her for taking an Uber so late at night by herself, but of course he didn’t turn her away.

“Are you hungry?” Ethan asks, opening and closing his refrigerator a few times, as if that will make food magically appear. “I didn’t cook today, but I can probably throw something together.”

Naomi doesn’t know if her appetite still hasn’t returned or if it’s her mind playing tricks on her, as she can still taste the vomit in her mouth at the mere mention of food. “No, I’m fine for now.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

“Okay.” Ethan wants to ask questions because she’s obviously come here for a reason, but he doesn’t want to push her. “It’s late and you must be exhausted though.” He walks back to his living room and holds out a hand, which Naomi grabs. He ushers her to his bedroom. “You can sleep in here.”

His room still looks like she remembers. The king sized bed takes up most of the space, and he still has the most amazing view in all of Boston. The night is still young and bustling, the buildings all lit up.

“You’re sleeping in here too, right?” Naomi asks.

“I was going to take the guest room, or the couch.”

Naomi shakes her head. “Nonsense, you’re sleeping with me.”

Even though there’s no light other than moonlight spilling into the room, Naomi can still see his cheeks tinge pink. “I didn’t want to assume.”

“I think after our night together in the hospital, assuming will be safe. It’s cute, but we’re grown and you won’t offend my virtue.”

“Noted.” Naomi watches him as he moves around the room, a sort of anxious energy radiating off of him. He rummages through a drawer until he finds something suitable for her to put on. “Here you go.”

It’s a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt from a charity 5k because of course Ethan is the type to participate in something like that. Naomi rids herself of the jeans and sweater she haphazardly threw on in her rush to leave her apartment and slips on the t-shirt, forgoing the pants. Their obvious size differences make the shirt look comically large on her like a nightgown.

“Fair warning, I don’t have a scrunchie or anything to wrap my hair in, so I apologize if you wake up to like...a lion’s mane of hair in your face.”

“I think I’ll survive.”

Naomi pulls back the covers and slides into the bed, moaning upon contact. Oh, to be rich and have fancy high thread-count sheets and a memory foam mattress. “God, I never want to leave this bed.”

“Keep making noises like that, and I won’t let you.” He doesn’t climb bed behind her, opting to sit on the edge. “You want to talk?”

“About what?”

“The fact that you’re here right now, instead of your own apartment.”

“Is it not enough to say I wanted to see you?”

Ethan scoffs. Naomi is charming, but she can’t bullshit him. “Sure.”

She doesn’t want to talk about herself. That’s all she’s done for the past 48 hours, and she’s tired of it. It’s selfish.

She manages to turn the tables on Ethan. “You look tired. I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“You didn’t,” Ethan assures her. “I wasn’t sleeping anyway.”

“I didn’t have you pegged as an insomniac.”

“We’re doctors, so it goes without saying that we’re all insomniacs.” Ethan sighs. “But to be honest, I haven’t had a good night’s sleep all week.”

“I get it. With the toxin, and Bobby and Danny, and Raf–”

“It’s not them, Naomi, it’s you,” Ethan argues. “I spend all 24 hours of the day with you on my brain, worrying about you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I thought you were going to die in my arms,” Ethan continues. “I tried to stay optimistic for you, but all I could think about was the fact that it could’ve been my last night with you. That night, after you finally fell asleep, I stayed up, analyzing your vitals. The only time I wasn’t looking at you is when I was looking at your chart. And every night since, I lay awake, forcing myself to not contact you.”

Naomi frowns. She’s spent so much time wrapped up in her own head, she didn’t take much time to think about how Ethan was affected as well. She’s sure she’d be a wreck if the situation was reversed, if he was the one fighting an unknown deadly agent.

She crawls out the sheets and joins Ethan at the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even think–”

“Don’t you dare apologize to me. You’ve been going through enough, I shouldn’t even be burdening you.”

“It’s fine. We shared deathbed confessions, I think I can handle whatever else you throw my way.”

Ethan turns to lock eyes with Naomi, her expression open and earnest. “I meant everything I said in there. I regret putting us on hold, and I’m sorry I wasted so much time.”

Naomi sucks in a deep breath. “Okay. So what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I’m done pretending that I don’t have feelings for you. I’m done trying to hold you at arm’s length. I want you, Naomi.”

“Are you feeling like this because I almost died?”

“No. I mean, sure it was a major wake-up call for me, but I’ve felt this way for a long time. The last time you were here, the night of the softball game, I kissed you, and instead of making my intentions known then and there, I put it off, and that almost cost me everything. I don’t have all the answers, because I’m your boss, and people at hospitals like to gossip, but whatever this is, I want to explore it with you.”

Naomi doesn’t say anything, her brain and heart trying to process all of this information. Ethan watches her, his heart pounding wildly. Did he seriously miscalculate her feelings for him? Did he pick the most inopportune moment to drop this on her?

“It took you long enough,” Naomi says.

He laughs, his relief evident and he grabs her hand. “Well I appreciate you having the patience of a saint, Rookie.”

“It’s because I am a saint.”

He runs his thumb along the inside of her wrist, tracing a pattern into the warm skin. The steady thump of her pulse is enough to soothe the anxiety that lingers. She’s here. She’s with him. She’s alive.

His other hand grips the back of her neck, forcing her to look him in the eye. Ethan’s gaze sweeps across her face, his 11 years as a doctor having given him a keen eye for detail. There’s her long, dark eyelashes, her full lips, her pronounced cheekbones, her button nose that crinkles whenever she’s smiling and laughing, a sight he hopes to see again soon. He doesn’t know what emotion is more overwhelming: the relief that she’s alive, or the fear that she was that close to dying.

Ethan is all too aware of the fact that he could’ve lost her. That he and Naomi would never share a quiet moment like this ever again. That she’d never know the full extent of his feelings for her, because he’d been too much of a coward to be honest a long time ago. The thought of the hypothetical makes his insides twist uncomfortably. He can’t dwell on it, not while she’s here, looking to him for comfort.

Without thinking further, his lips slowly collide with hers, pulling the younger woman into a kiss. She wastes no time, kissing him back with an unrivaled fervor that borders on desperation, but Ethan isn’t one to complain. He deepens the kiss, his tongue sweeping her mouth until he finds her own.

The kiss sparks something inside of Naomi, a buzz building in the pit of her stomach, so potent and all consuming, it nearly startled her. For the first time in what feels like forever, the rest of the world fades away. It’s just her and Ethan, and this magical little flame between them. So she clings to it, to him, to them, and swings one of her legs over, straddling him. One arm wraps around the back of his neck, one hand tangles in the hair at the nape of his neck as she pulls herself closer. He tastes smoky like the scotch they drank earlier, and she swears the kiss alone is enough to leave her intoxicated.

Desperate for any sort of friction, Naomi rolls her hips into his. She can feel him hardening beneath her, his erection straining through the thin layers of fabric preventing them from being completely bare with each other. Unable to help himself, Ethan breaks the kiss only to let out a low, “Fuck.”

He needs to stop this. Logically, Ethan knows that putting a kibosh in this is the right thing to do. Naomi came to him because she needs a support system, and the last thing he wants to do is take advantage of her trust and manipulate her grief.

“Naomi, stop,” Ethan gently commands, hands gripping her hips in order to keep her still.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“We don’t have to do this tonight,” Ethan says. “Let’s just go to bed.”

“But I don’t want to go to bed.”

“But you should.”

“No. I want this, I want you.”

Her lips are on his jaw, kissing and biting, and it’s becoming harder for him to stay focused. “You’ve had a very long day, it’s been emotionally draining, and I’m sure you’re exhausted–”

“Oh my God, stop!” Naomi exclaims. “I don’t need another person explaining to me what I’m going through or what I’m feeling. Trust me, no one is more aware of my shitty life than I am.” She leans forward resting her forehead against his. “I get it, I’m the one who barely survived an assassination attempt, and I’m going to walk around with that for the rest of my life. For tonight, can I just be a normal girl who wants to fuck her boyfriend, or whatever the hell you are to me? Please?”

Despite the circumstances, his cock twitches almost painfully as soon as the word “boyfriend” leaves her mouth. He’s a grown ass man, he hasn’t used the term since high school, and here he is, ready to dissolve into a puddle of goo. What the hell has Naomi Valentine done to him and who is this mess of a man that she’s replaced him with?

Whatever she’s trying to do won’t work. Pushing aside her grief and trying to avoid the problem with sex isn’t a coping mechanism he’d ever recommend (not that he has any brilliant ones of his own, but still). It’s not going to fix anything in the long run.

Naomi’s lips brush against his before giving him another teasing kiss before pulling away. “Please,” she whines. “I want you, Ethan.” Ethan has always considered himself to be a staunch man who isn’t easily swayed. Until he met Naomi. How can he be when she’s looking at him with those big doe eyes of hers, weakening his otherwise tough resolve? It may not help her tomorrow, but who is he to deny her reprieve at least right now? Saying no to her has never been a strength Ethan claimed to possess.

Not giving any sort of warning, Ethan grips the oversized shirt she’s wearing and forcefully pulls it up, barely giving her enough time to lift her arms and help with the process. Once the piece of clothing is discarded somewhere on his bedroom floor, Ethan flips their positions, Naomi’s back landing on his mattress with a soft thud.

He sucks in a sharp breath. Ethan considers himself to be a well traveled, well cultured man. He’s seen the Eiffel Tower multiple times, visited the Christ the Redeemer statue in Rio de Janeiro, driven a Ferrari through the streets of Rome, drank wine while overlooking a Napa vineyard, and more. But none of those even comes close to the sight of Naomi naked in his bed, writhing on top of his sheets, her curly hair splayed out like a crown atop her head. She’s absolutely beautiful, and he’s a goner. He’s always known it, but this moment right here, right now actually seals the deal.

“Why don’t you take a picture?” Naomi asks, jolting Ethan out of his thoughts. He feels her dainty foot running along the soft cotton of his pajama pants before traveling higher, lightly brushing his side.

He catches her foot, his strong hand wrapping around her ankle, and yanks her forward. “I don’t need to take a picture because the real thing is just fine.” Maintaining eye contact, Ethan presses a line of kisses from her ankle to the inside of her knee, smirking as he feels the goosebumps pop up along the trail he’s set. “God, it really doesn’t take much to get you going, huh?”

“Not when it involves you, no,” Naomi replies.

Ethan drops her leg unceremoniously. His hands wander until they’re hooked into the waistband of her lacy underwear, and he pulls them down quickly, deciding not to make a production of it. A hum of approval leaves his throat when he finds her already soaked for him. He runs a finger along her spreading the wetness around before pressing the single digit into her. “I like that answer.”

Her toes curl at the contact and Naomi grips the sheets beneath her. “Oh, fuck.”

“Christ, you’re tight.”

“It’s been a while,” Naomi admits, panting heavily. “The guy I was into ran off to another continent, and put us on ice.”

Ethan can tell by her tone that she’s merely teasing, but his heart still hammers wildly nonetheless. He wasted so much time, and for what? He slides another finger into her, enjoying the moan she gives him in return. “It appears I have some atoning to do, hmm?”

Naomi nods. “A lot of atoning.”

“Very well.”

She feels him remove his fingers, and nothing makes her head spin more. Lifting herself up by her elbows, Naomi glares down at Ethan. “What are you doing? You can’t just stop!”

“Relax.” Ethan forces Naomi back to her originally flat position. “I think you know better than anyone that I’m going to take good care of you.” She chooses not to respond, because they both know the answer to that is a resounding yes.

He spreads her thighs and Naomi shivers at the gleam in his eyes, positively engraved by the way he looks at her: all lust and hunger. Desperate for Ethan to actually do something, she tilts her hips up, hoping he’ll get the hint.

Ethan chuckles and places an open mouthed kiss on the inside of her thigh. She swears she can feel herself buzzing with anticipation, her insides on fire, and all she wants him to do is just touch her.

When he finally does, she’s shocked she doesn’t combust then and there. Her head tips back and a low groan tumbles from her lips, and her thighs clamp shut so tightly around Ethan’s head, she’d be apologetic if she wasn’t so far gone. Ethan doesn’t skip a beat though, his fingers digging into her thighs and spreading them apart, and then he’s back to his original mission.

Ethan’s tongue glides through her folds with ease, stroking her up and down a few times before closing his mouth around her clit and sucking hard. Her hips fly off the bed and she grinds into him with a reckless abandon she hasn’t felt in a really long time, but Ethan splays a strong hand across her stomach to hold her down, trapping her between him and his bed.

Trying to gain a modicum of power back, Naomi grips a handful of his hair and tugs at it roughly. It’s an action that makes Ethan growl, his mouth vibrating against her.

Her little moans and cries do nothing to help the raging ego Naomi claims he has, instead they only fuel him further. He ups the ante, his two fingers sliding back into her, curling in a come hither motion and pressing repeatedly against the spot that makes her see stars.

He can tell by the vice grip she has on his fingers and the way she’s undulating against him that she’s close. And while he’s content to draw this out for as long as humanly possible, until he’s wrung every little ounce of pleasure from her that he can, Ethan is well aware that the woman occupying his bed doesn’t have that type of patience.

Giving her a bit of reprieve, he takes his mouth off of her, only moving it slightly so he can kiss the soft flesh of her inner thigh.

“God, Ethan.”

“Say my name again, Rookie,” Ethan commands. “I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

Naomi obeys without as much as a second thought. It doesn’t take much to get her to say his name again, the word coming out as a shout in between a broken cry. Ethan smirks, satisfied with his work, and his tongue finds her clit, stroking the tiny bundle a few more times until her orgasm zips through her with the intensity of a lightning strike. Her entire body tenses up as Ethan continues to lap at her, as she rides out the aftershocks.

When she’s finally in control of her senses again, the first thing Naomi notices is how absolutely wrecked Ethan looks, eyes red and glossy, mouth and beard soaked, and she wants to do nothing more than kiss him. So she does, grabbing the back of his head and pulling him back on top of her. She can taste herself on his mouth and it makes her moan.

Impatient, Naomi reaches between their bodies and tugs at the waistband of his pants. Ethan receives the message loud and clear, and he breaks the kiss to strip as quickly as he can. She watches as Ethan flings his shirt across the room and kicks off his pajama bottoms. He isn’t the only one with above average observation skills, and she notices the slight tremble in his hands, the anticipation as intense for him as it is for her. She’d be lying if she said reducing this great and powerful man to nothing more than a shaky mess isn’t a turn on. Once his boxers are gone, Naomi looks him up and down, every part of him still as she remembered.

Her eyes zero in on his erection, painfully hard. She wraps her hand around him, stroking firmly. “My my, doctor, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you like me.”

The other four letter L-word rattles around in his brain, begging to be set free, and with more strength than he thought he had, Ethan manages to keep quiet. He’d never forgive himself for such selfishness if he blurted out he loves her in the middle of sex. Naomi has enough to deal with already without that added layer of complexity.

Ethan’s thoughts are interrupted, a sharp hiss passing through his teeth as he feels her tongue languidly glide across the swollen head of his erection before taking him fully in her mouth.

He doesn’t know what will kill him first: how good it feels, or the fact that she’s staring up at him with those fucking Disney princess eyes again, feigning innocence like she’s unaware of exactly what she does to him.

He allows her to get in one more stroke of her tongue before he grabs a fistful of her hair and pulls her away. One of her eyebrows raises in question. “What’s wrong? I was just getting started.”

He drags them back into bed before answering, “I need to be inside you. You can do whatever you want to me afterwards.”

She grins at the promise of a next time. Whatever she wants? “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Ramsey.”

“It’s not a threat, it’s a promise,” Ethan assures her.

Naomi feels him, poised at her entrance and she arches backwards, too overly sensitive. Ethan’s hands are back on her hips, holding her in place, and inch by inch, he fills her. They both groan at the sensation, familiar territory but something new entirely. Her hands fly to his back, nails digging into the skin as she’s stretched to maximum capacity, uncaring if she leaves marks.

Ethan is unsure of how long they’ve been like this, but he’s nearly shaking with the restraint it’s taking him to not thrust into her. He drops his head, kissing a line across her collarbone. “Fuck, baby, I need you to let me know when I can move.”

The pet name wasn’t intentional, spilling from Ethan’s lips before he could stop it, but Naomi whimpers regardless. She hooks her legs behind his back, keeping him just as trapped as she is. “Please.”

He moves slowly, partially to give her a chance to adjust to his size, the other reason because he doesn’t want it to be over as quickly as it started. This, being inside of her again, is overwhelming and Ethan can’t believe there was ever a time he thought he could go without.

“You’re incredible,” Ethan compliments.

“Okay, say it again when I’m not in your bed. Like during a team meeting where you’re shooting down my ideas.”

“You are,” Ethan insists.

He thrusts into her again, and Naomi cries out, nails raking at his back. Surely she’s broken skin at this point, but Ethan doesn’t care. He’s never been one for pain in bed, but with Naomi, he’s willing to make an allowance, especially since it leaves way for pleasure. They move in tandem, hips moving against each other, both trying to coax out the release that’s been building. Unable to do much of anything else, Ethan leans forward, kissing Naomi again. She meets him halfway, just as eager as he is.

Eventually she has to break the kiss, and she gasps in a large breath of air, her lungs constricting tightly in her rib cage. In her distracted moment, Ethan manages to free himself of her hands marking him relentlessly, and he captures both of her wrists in one fell swoop. He holds them above her head in one hand, pressing her as deep into the mattress as possible. The new angle catches her by surprise and she can’t do anything but gasp into the air above her.

“Please.” She doesn’t even know what she’s pleading for at this point, but it’s the only word her brain can comprehend so she chants it repeatedly like a prayer until she’s shattering around him, mouth open, head tipped back, skin flush and warm. She’s perfect like this, Ethan surmises.

It doesn’t take him more than a few more thrusts before Ethan’s own release takes control and he falls forward, leaning some of his weight onto Naomi. He doesn’t trust himself to not say or do something completely stupid, so he buries his face in the crook of her neck, biting down on the sensitive flesh.

It could’ve been mere minutes that they spent in that position, or it could’ve been hours for all Naomi knows, but when Ethan finally pulls out, he’s kissing her all over: her cheeks, her nose, her forehead.

He wraps her in a solid embrace, arms circling around her and holding her close, their erratic heart rates trying to slow down. Ethan feels at peace doing just this, holding her close to him, feeling the rise and fall of her chest.

Do you feel any better?”

That isn’t a question Naomi expects to hear right after sex, and it causes her to pause. After a few more moments of silence, she answers, “I mean, the endorphin release was great if that’s what you’re asking.”

“It’s not what I’m asking, and you know it.”

Naomi knew going into it that the sex wasn’t going to soothe all of her hurts and be the magical solution to her problems, so she doesn’t need some major “I-told-you-so” moment from him. But for the first time in almost a week, she feels like herself again. Within the confines of these four walls, Ethan didn’t treat her like some fragile little doll, and her mind was able to take a break from overthinking.

“It was nice to turn my brain off, if only for a short time,” Naomi replies. “It was nice to not be a captive to my trauma.”

Ethan’s fingers gently graze her scalp, massaging. “Do you think you’re ready to talk to me now?”

“No.”

She’s as stubborn as ever. “Fair enough. But if we were to talk about it, I would say that you went through something horrible and traumatic, and you have to allow yourself to actually feel and process whatever emotions you have. I’d also say that you are incredibly strong, but your strength doesn’t mean that you have to bottle everything inside in order to make everyone around you feel better, especially when you’re with me. Strong people have the right to be vulnerable too.” Ethan sighs. “But since we aren’t talking about it, I’m not going to say any of those things.”

Naomi curls in closer to Ethan, comforted by his body warmth. “I think I would really enjoy hearing those things if this was a conversation we were having.”

“Good. Now whenever you’re ready to talk, I’ll be prepared.”

“Thank you.”

“I think it’s what good boyfriends do. Or whatever the hell I am to you. That’s what you said, right?”

“Okay, I have an explanation for getting agitated about the technical definition of our relationship.”

“Oh yeah? I’d love to hear it.”

“I was impatient and horny.”

Ethan laughs, the warm and rich sound curling around her insides. It does more to help than she’ll ever be able to convey to him. “You’re also very honest.”

“To a fault at times, yes.”

A silence settled between them again, and Naomi feels her eyelids getting heavier. Maybe she’ll be able to finally get some real sleep, not the fitful unconsciousness she’s been subjected to for the past few days.

“Thank you for indulging me tonight,” Naomi says.

He’s going to suggest she talk to a therapist. He’s going to say it multiple times, until he’s blue in the face and she’s tired of listening. But he'll leave her alone for tonight.

“You’re welcome. Now, get some sleep. The sooner you get to bed, the sooner we wake up, and I can cook breakfast for you.”

“Mhmm, sounds like a plan, Ramsey.”

Ethan can feel her falling asleep on him. He presses a kiss into her forehead. “Naomi?”

“Hmm?”

“For the record, I am definitely your boyfriend.”

~v~

tags: @maurine07 @aka-calliope @edgiestwinter @soft-for-drake @greenbean-kylie @akshara16 @mrsramseyy @honeyandsunfl0wers @blossomanarchy @takemyopenheart @fanmantrashcan @whatchique @ao719 @x-kyne-x @colourmeshy @paulfwesley @writinghereandthere @ramseyandrys @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramsey @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @trappedinfandoms @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune @edith-eggs1 @thatysn @bellcat2010 @theeccentricbibliophile @cecilecontrera @junehiratas @choices-love-affair @openheart12 @caseyvalentineramsey @desmaranj @nazario-sayeed @aestheticartsx @ruinedbypixels @mvalentine @nooruleman @rookie-ramsey

#open heart #open heart 2 #ethan ramsey #dr. ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #ns*fw #ns/fw

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anna-pixie · 4 years

Note

Hello !!! Can I have Geralt x reader? Reader has been so caught up in her work that they forget to eat. They get extremely lightheaded and stumble a little. Geralt steadies them and he is worried (and mad) when he finds out they forgot to eat. While he is making food they faint and land (luckily) on something soft. When he's done, he comes back , at first he thinks that they're just laying down but he kinda freaks out when he realizes that reader is unconscious????? THANK YOU

i am SO sorry this took so long, i’ve had the worst writers block recently! 🥺

i really liked writing this request and if you like it i would love to turn this into a little series maybe!

request: reader has been so caught up in work they forget to eat. geralt is worried (and mad) while he is making food they faint and land on something soft, he freaks out when he realises they are unconscious.

pairings: geralt x reader

warnings: swearing, slightly suggestive tones

****

To say Geralt was over-protective of you would be a vast understatement. You’d met more or less a year ago, when he pretty much saved your life. You had just been kicked out by your father, for refusing to marry the fat, greasy suitor he had decided was worthy of your hand. A life on the streets doing whatever you please would be better than being married to a disgusting hog, right? Well, kind of. The harsh reality of living on the streets slapped you in the face like a bolt of lightning.

You were growing wearier by the day, coming closer and closer to facing your final option other than starving to death. Prostitution. You knew it would keep you going, but you’d seen the way those horrible men would manhandle and devour the painted ladies.

You met Geralt the night you almost gave in. You sat in the back room, glaring at your painted face with tears pricking your eyes. The lady of the brother called your name, a shriek in her voice as she commanded you to come down. She had a client ready for you.

Long story short, that client was Geralt. He took you up to his room for the night, taken aback when you started crying hysterically when he approached you. You had expected him to hit you, tell you to stop being a bitch or even just force himself on you there. Instead he ran you a bath, left you to calm down and then took you under his wing, whisking you away on Roach for a life on the road.

You like to think that was the Gods smiling down on you, meeting Geralt was the best thing that ever happened to you. Of course, life on the road was no breeze. Your new life was filled with monsters, hunger, travel and death. But you wouldn’t change it for anything.

The past few days had been particularly tough, you had been camped out in the forest while Geralt came and went, going after a particularly nasty wraith. You had been alone for the last day, and you were too afraid to venture out of your tent alone with the exception of relieving yourself, so food had not been at the top of your priority list.

However, now that you’ve started the long walk to the nearest town, you realise how stupid you had been. Your head is spinning and you feel slightly delirious, your stomach screaming at you to feed it. Luckily Geralt is a few paces ahead of you with Roach, and the sound of a nearby stream drowns out any of the rather embarrassing noises your stomach is making.

You stop a while later, and Geralt makes sure you drink a hearty amount of water from the stream. He leans against Roach and watches you, your cheeks flushing as you slurp the water.

“Do I have something on my face?” You’re paranoid now, he won’t stop looking.

“You’re about to.”

“W...what?” You barely have any time to question before he is striding up to you, grasping your face and planting his lips on yours. You relax, smiling into the kiss as he takes his time to savour you.

Geralt is not your boyfriend by any means. Sure, you kiss occasionally. Sometimes he can’t seem to help himself, but you draw that up to just needing a bit of female attention on the road. You never let him go further though, as you know that will bring unwanted feelings. You see the way Geralt is with women, a different one in every town - sometimes even more than one. You don’t want to become that to him, just another body to have his way with. So you stick to kissing. And, oh Gods is he good at it.

You hit his chest lightly, blinking quickly as you stumble to the side slightly. Your vision blurs suddenly and you place your hand on Geralt’s large arm, trying to steady yourself.

“Y/N? Y/N!” He shakes you lightly, looking down at you with furrowed brows as you start to regain your vision.

You shake your head a little, plastering a smile on your face, “Sorry. I don’t know what happened there. I felt a bit faint…”

“You practically passed out, Y/N. Gods, you didn’t have any breakfast today, is that why? What did you eat yesterday?”

“Umm…” You stall, trying to think of a way to tell Geralt that you in fact haven’t eaten, “Nothing…” You regret telling him almost immediately as his face drops, his eyes going dark. You know how angry he gets when you don’t take care of yourself, and you guess that’s why he feels like he has to do it for you.

“Fuck…” He groans, dragging the word out as he walks towards Roach, grumbling quietly to himself. He takes the reins and brings the confused horse over to you, “Normally I wouldn’t let more than one person ride Roach but I can’t risk you passing out and falling off if I’m not on there with you.”

He grabs you quickly underneath the armpits and you shriek in surprise as he lifts you onto the horse with ease. You whisper an apology as your fingernails lightly scratch Roach’s neck. He climbs up after you and you blush at how close his body is. You can feel everything, you’re practically sitting on his lip. You ignore the unladylike thoughts swirling in your brain and focus on staying awake for the rest of the ride to town.

“How long left?”

“Shouldn’t be long. Blaviken is not too far but… obviously… we need to travel a few towns over.”

“Aah. Okay.”

You make idle chat for the rest of the way, though it is mainly you chatting about any old thought that pops into your head, and Geralt grumbling along. At some point he had wrapped his arms around your waist, one resting on your thigh and the other on your waist. Gods, is he trying to make this hard for you?

The rest of the ride isn’t too bad, your vision spots in and out of black a few times but you try not to bother Geralt with this information. You spend your time brushing your fingers lightly through Roache’s main, trying not to distract her too much. You let out a sigh of relief when you finally reach the next town, probably looking like a mage out of her mind as you grin sleepily as you pass people by.

You stumble a bit as Geralt lifts you off of Roach, but deflect his concerned glance with a wry smile, telling him your leg was dead from being idle for so long. Wow, you’ve gotten so good at lying. You leave him to sort Roach out in the nearby stables while you wander inside the warm tavern, scrunching your nose at the inviting scent of sweat wafting around the room. Your transaction with the owner is quick, you’re used to it now after months on the road. You place an order for meat with all the trimmings, knowing you had a bit of coin left over from being camped out for a few days.

“Sorry, love, we ain’t got no meat left. I can rustle you up some potatoes if you’re desperate.”

You sigh, biting your lip as you eye the man near you devouring his piece of meat, your stomach groaning desperately. Alas, you smile kindly at her and assure her that it’s fine, you’ll just take the room for now.

You smile, shaking your head once more as you enter the room, realising that you’ve been given a double bed to share. You will never admit this to Geralt, but you secretly love it when you have to share a bed. You had never been one to enjoy physical touch a lot, but the way Geralt’s large arms would hold you in his sleep, gripping you tightly like he’s scared you’ll leave, well it just makes your heart melt.

Sitting on the bed, you focus on trying to stay awake whilst you wait for Geralt. This is in vain, however, because your head starts spinning almost instantly. You whisper a quick ‘fuck’ before all you can see is darkness, falling down onto the bed with your back facing the door.

Geralt smiles as he spies you on the bed when he enters the room a few minutes later, assuming you’re napping. It had been a long day after all. He starts to run a bath for you, a sort of tradition between the two of you since the night you met. As he listens to the running water, he sits at the small table in the corner of his room, his legs spread as his hulking form takes over the small wooden chair.

“Come on, you.” He nudges you slightly once he has finished preparing your bath. Usually when he wakes you from a nap you groan, mumble and drool before glaring at him angrily. Not this time, though. You don’t move at all, and Geralt starts to panic quickly as he remembers the events of earlier that day. He turns you over, your unconscious body lolling like a ragdoll in his strong arms. He shuts his eyes with a groan, realising he is going to have to shock you awake.

You wake with a squeal, thinking for a second you might be drowning. Your vision is bleary for a few seconds as you try to gather your surroundings, only calming down when you hear Geralt’s low, soothing voice talking you through things.

“You can’t scare me like that, Y/N.” Geralt is holding your face now, brushing a strand of wet hair out of your face. You realise he must have dumped some ice water on you to wake you up.

“I thought tough old Geralt of Rivia wasn’t scared of anything?” You tease weakly, closing your eyes once more as a wave of fatigue slams over you. He slaps your face lightly, ensuring you don’t pass out again. You meet his eyes once more, slightly shocked at the sheer seriousness of his expression.

“Not when it comes to you. You’re the only thing that keeps me going in this world, Y/N. You have to understand that I might not always be here. I need to know that you can take care of yourself, okay? For me.”

You tilt your head so that you’re leaning further into Geralt’s hand, his thumb brushing over your cheek. He leans forward, kissing your forehead quickly as he gets up.

“Where are you going?”

“I bumped into Jaskier earlier, he’s passing through this town with his newest whore. I sent him to get us some meat. We’re not sleeping until you’ve eaten. Got it?” Sometimes you like to tease Geralt, just to get a reaction from him. This was not one of those times. You look at him through your lashes.

“Got it.”

Jaskier is as happy as ever, humming a tune whilst the three of you dig into your food. You try to remain ladylike as you eat but can’t help scoffing down the hearty chunk of meat you were served.

“You should’ve seen Geralt before, Y/N.” Jaskier cackles, shrieking suddenly when Geralt serves a swift kick to his shin.

“What do you mean?” You eye Geralt suspiciously, placing your hand on his thigh so that Jaskier can explain without the fear of being kicked again.

“I was enjoying my… company… downstairs, shall we say. Then all of a sudden this buffoon comes running down the stairs, shouting about a jug of cold water. So of course I followed him, and all I could see before he kicked me out of the room was him pacing around - I kid you not, Y/N, he was praying to the Gods - and then he chucked the jug of water on you.” You can’t help but giggle at Jaskier’s dramatic retelling of the events, awwing slightly when you see Geralt’s bashful face.

Turns out even emotionless Witcher’s can freak out when something they care about is in danger.

#geralt x reader #geralt x oc #geralt of rivia x ofc #geralt of rivia x oc #the witcher #witcher imagine #the witcher imagine

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imaginethatneathuh · 3 years

Text

The Fool: Game Boy - American Gods

Game Boy x partner!reader, romantic

Game Boy plays a game with you.

Part of @dragon430’s Tarot Troop.

TW/CW: None that I can think of.

Word count: 2.0+ K

•

After a long day at work you were relieved to not have to do anything else today. As soon as you got home, you said to yourself, it’s nap time. Sadly, or maybe happily, things didn’t work out that way.

As you stepped into the small, shared flat, you sighed and rolled your neck. Wordlessly, you walked to the kitchen and got some water, tossing your keys on the counter.

You had been on your feet all day; the only thing on your mind was a shower and bed. As you drank, water falling from the corners of your mouth, you noticed there was silence about the house. There was never silence unless your long-term partner, Game Boy was gone. Setting your cup down, you walk around the counters and cabinets that split the living room and kitchen. You stopped at the edge and peered in, hands on hips. With a frown, you tilted your head before walking into the living room, still in your barista uniform.

“Game Boy?” You called in the empty flat. “You here?”

After a long string of silence, you moved closer to the sofa and placed your hands on top of it.

It wasn’t peculiar that Game was gone, just odd that he hadn’t said anything before. He had always told you beforehand so you wouldn’t worry. This time, you supposed, he’d failed to mention his absence. Still, a part of you thought he may be elsewhere in the flat.

As he didn’t answer you, you began to search for him. He wasn’t in the bathroom and you doubted he was in the communal laundry room. Despite knowing that he certainly wasn’t in your room, you still checked. Predictably, he wasn’t there, but you did decide to change into something more comfortable.

With nowhere else to look, you knocked on his room’s door and opened it. It was empty. Gaming equipment, actual games, a computer, a telly, and other stuff like that covered the room, but there was no Game Boy. Your partner Game Boy, not the Nintendo handheld game console. He did, in fact, have one of them on a shelf.

There was a note taped to his computer which is odd because Game Boy rarely ever wrote anything with a pen or pencil. He also never let anything so “dated” as a pen and paper note on his precious computer. Not if he was in his right mind anyway.

You got closer, out of curiosity of what was so important that Game decided to write it out. The handwriting was very sloppy, you noticed.

Do you remember where we met? The note asked. I do. I thought you looked amazing. That’s why I couldn’t talk to you. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t say anything. I was so tongue-tied, it was rather embarrassing.

You smiled, remembering how flushed Game had been. He couldn’t even look at you. It was adorable.

Find where we met. Follow the trail and we’ll see each other soon enough. Let me take you on an adventure. You won’t regret it. I promise. I love you - G

Your heart swelled in your chest.

‘A game from Game Boy,’ you thought. ‘How cute.’

You left the flat, wanting to see just what game Game was playing.

•

Standing near a park bench, you looked around.

You had been around here, on a walk, when you’d bumped into Game. Stupidly, you hadn’t been watching where you were going and ran into him, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“I am so sorry,” you said. “I didn’t see you.”

You looked into his beautiful blue eyes and your heart skipped a beat.

The young man you’d run into turnt away, blushing and pulled his black trench coat tighter. He nodded, still looking at the ground.

“Again, really sorry.” You walked past him but stopped next to a park bench. After a few seconds, you couldn’t help but look over your shoulder at him.

The blue-eyed boy stood there, looking at you, his hands in his pockets and scarf wiping back from the wind. He was considerably round and he had some acne, but it didn’t bother you. His eyes told you everything. There was more going on behind them than most would assume. More what, you didn’t know. But he seemed to know so much. One look into them and it was like you had had a glance into endless something, but you weren’t sure what. It was within your grasp and, yet, an ocean away.

Your eyes met again and warmth filled your chest. You smiled and waved at him.

His already deep blush deepened.

You walked down the path. A note, taped to a bench, caught your attention. You picked it up and opened it.

This is where you stopped when we first met. The moment you looked back at me and our eyes met, I could feel myself falling for you. I don’t get that feeling anymore. It’s more of knowing I love you and you love me kinda feeling, but I digress.

You smiled. His words rang true for you, too. There were no longer butterflies and lightning. But there was a feeling of belonging with him that you could feel in your heart.

Sometimes, I wonder why you weren’t repulsed by my acne and fat. I still have no idea why you’d go out with me. But, I’m glad you did ask me out. Being with you has been something else. A fantastic something else.

After the first time walking through the park, you started going there more often. At one point, it was every single day. All you wanted was to see him again. But, it took months before you did.

And when you did, as cliche as it sounds, it was like the whole world stopped around you. Without even thinking about it, you walked over and asked him out.

You got a stuttered yes, but it was still a yes.

Go to where we had our first date and you’ll find a friend and a note waiting. - G

•

After getting out of the car, you made your way to the arcade you and Game Boy had spent your first date. It had been easier to get him to talk about video games than it was himself. Still, the way he had talked about his favourite, and his most hated, games made you fall deeper in love.

The two of you played a ton of games, usually for two players. He’d even called you his player two, as a joke.

“Hey, Y/N,” the attendant, Steve, said. “G stopped by earlier. Told me to give you this.” He handed you a note.

I know I didn’t really let you talk much when we were here, but when you asked about my favourites to play, I just started rambling. It did make it easier to talk to you, though.

Speaking of rambling, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland was a bit nonsensical, wasn’t it? I don’t know why you love that movie (or the book) but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t happy to wear the VHS tape out with you. Seeing you happy was the best part of that. Now, Alice, my dear, go back home and go down the rabbit hole once again. - G

Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland was indeed nonsensical which was the best part about it. There was no real story. It was nonsense, the best kinda sense there is.

“Thanks, Steve. See ya later,” you said as you left.

•

Back home, you went to the telly and pulled out the VHS tapes. On AAiW’s case was a note from Game.

We’re pretty close to the end now. But, just to say it before I say it, I love you. As much as I found this movie weird, nonsensical, and rather insane, I found it worth every second spent watching because I got to spend time with you. Y/N, you mean everything to me. I love you. The reason I say this now is because I’m not the best at saying things without coming off like a prick. It’s easier to write them.

You can find me at the address below. And, as the rabbit always says, “I’m late.” So get here before I have to chop off your head for tardiness (or should I say tartiness?). - G

You chuckled softly at the pun and ran a finger down the page.

The address below wasn’t familiar to you so you pulled out a map.

•

The warehouse looked disgusting on the outside. Broken windows and grime-covered walls were not the most romantic thing, but still, if Game Boy was here, it’d be worth it.

You walked in, expecting to walk across broken glass or something, but there was no crunch beneath you. A path looked like it had been swept clean for you. It trailed to the back of the warehouse, small origami roses laying on it.

You followed them and picked them up one by one. The first few were plain white with green-painted stems. But, slowly, red started to bleed onto them. The ones farthest away were fully red, just like the Queen wanted.

The last rose sat on a door handle, the kind typically found in warehouses that jut out to the side. You picked it up, twirling the faux stem in your fingers. The rest of the bouquet sat in your arm. You could smell the paint coming off them.

The door creaked open and a shy figure peeked out.

“G?” You asked.

“Close your eyes,” he said. “Please?”

You did as he asked, heart pumping. “Can you please tell me what’s going on?”

As much as you wanted to know, you knew Game Boy had a hard time figuring out what was okay and what wasn’t when it came to real-life people.

“You’ll see,” he said.

The door creaked open more and he shuffled out. He picked the bouquet out of your arms as well as the last flower before disappearing for a moment. The warmth of his hands transferred to yours as he led you into the office. You could hear the door close again. Game Boy positioned you right in front of something, guiding you by your upper arms. His warmth left you before he spoke.

“You can open them now,” he said.

He stood in front of a table, a vase of the origami flowers he had made in his hands. Candles hung down from the ceiling in a heart formation, each holder connected by wire.

You silently stared at the sight.

Game Boy breathed heavily, his coat thrown off to the side. Still, his turtleneck was a little hot right now. He couldn’t tell if it was because he was nervous or overheated. Probably both.

You stepped forward and took the vase from him and set it down on a table.

“You did all this?” You asked.

He nodded, wiping his hands on his khakis. “I wanted it to be special.”

“Wanted what?”

He ran a hand through his blonde hair. “I’m not the best at this,” he mumbled under his breath. He straightened and looked you in the eye, despite that being rather uncomfortable for him. “Y/N, we’ve been dating for a while. Not a super long one, but it’s been a while. And I know you said you wanted to wait before calling us partners, but I can’t wait any longer. I love you so much. I want- I want you to be my player two. Permanently. Not just for a game or two.”

He seemed to have practised saying the speech over and over again.

You walked forward and pulled him into a kiss by the fabric of his turtleneck. Game Boy cupped your cheek and kissed back gently.

You pulled away, smiling. “I’ll gladly be your player two for as long as we both play the game fair.”

Game Boy sighed in relief, a giant grin spreading across his face. He leant in and kissed you again.

#american gods #american gods fanfiction #technical boy #tarot troop #game boy #technical x reader

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escapewriter · 3 years

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pairing : lee chan x reader

synopsis : as long as you get to see his sparkling eyes, spending the rest of your life with the man you love doesn’t sound too bad.

genre : marriage au, fluff, some humor

word count : 3.5k

a/n : HAPPY HOLIDAYS AND MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!!💞 i hope all of your holidays are filled with joy and love <3 please stay safe and i hope you guys like this oneshot :) it’s a very special one for my friend Kristen hehe

greetings @shoshishua i am your secret santa😁😁 literally had a DIFFICULT time thinking about what to write for you. i had wayyyy too many ideas and it hurt my brain. BUT i hope you enjoy this🥺 and i hope you have a lovely holiday😌 ily and i appreciate you. also i hope you get a passport for christmas ;D

svt written masterlist || main masterlist

Lee Chan is a man who loves with his entire heart. He is a man that exemplifies the definition of someone who loves unconditionally. He could go on and on about how much someone means to him if anyone asked him to, which would definitely lead to his members teasing him that it’s too long of a compliment. He is a hard working man who puts all his energy, effort and passion into what he does - all while never failing to disappoint his fans. Although he has his older brothers to look up to and help guide him, he learned how to become his own person, which is where he is now.

Chan stared at his reflection in the mirror, taking slow and even breaths to help calm his nervousness. He wasn’t sure why he was nervous, but maybe it was the fact by the end of the day, he would be going home to spend the rest of his life with his soulmate. Or it was the fact that his best man lost the paper where he had written his vows.

‘Boo Seungkwan, you made me argue with Jeonghan only to fuck up,’ he thought. He knows he doesn’t need vows to profess his love to you, but he wrote some good shit down. His eyes averted from his reflection to the window behind him, watching the droplets of rain fall down against the glass. Of all the days, it had to rain on this special day. Chan could only imagine your panicked state because of the rain.

You love the rain. Totally convenient that the whole ceremony takes place outdoors (sarcasm) but frankly, it didn’t bother you at all because then it would make it more magical for the two of you. So what if it was muddy and wet? You’re going to marry the love of your life and that’s all that mattered.

Okay, maybe your attire would get ‘slightly’ messy, but it's the amazing story that you could tell your future kids and grandkids about.

You wondered how Chan was doing and how he thought about the weather. Was he relaxed? Worried? It shouldn’t be a big deal, should it? At least you didn’t think it was.

“Boo Seungkwan, I am going to kick your ass.” Chan glared at the said man who was standing at the doorway. Seungkwan looked at the younger, raising his hands in an attempt to calm him down.

“Hey, be glad that I didn’t lose the rings instead.” Immediately he regretted those words as he saw Chan mentally throw daggers at him, “Don’t worry. You rehearsed it right? I know some of it and you know most. We can rewrite it together!” Chan dragged his hand over his face as he sighed.

“It’s fine Kwan, I’ll figure it out, just check on them for me please? You can do that right?” Seungkwan nodded his head, leaving the room with the slam of the door, rushing so he won’t anger the younger any further.

Chan took a deep breath, attempting to think happy thoughts so he won’t be as stressed. Immediately, his mind went to you; the memory of how you met. He closed his eyes, a soft smile automatically rising on his lips.

~ Chan saw Hoshi sitting at the dining table with his phone propped up against a bowl. He was laughing at something so Chan figured that he was live and talking with carats. That is until he heard your voice. It was soft yet had that rough breathy feeling to it that one could get lost in with only a whisper escaping past your lips. He was captivated.

He tried to peek at the screen to see who the voice belonged to, but failed when he remembered that Hoshi has a private screen protector. His bit his lip and composed himself, remembering the reason he was going to the kitchen in the first place.

“Hey Hoshi. Are you live?” Casually walking to the fridge, he opened it and retrieved a bottle of water. Nice.

“No, I’m talking to my friend. Come say hi, you haven’t met them yet.” Hoshi moved his phone a bit and patted the empty seat next to him. Chan eagerly moved to the empty seat and mentally prepared himself.

His eyes looked onto the small screen, seeing you devouring your cup of ramen noodles. Chan released a giggle, seeing you become flustered and move out of frame before returning with a clean mouth and small smile on your lips. “OH! Before I introduce you two, check out our handshake.” Hoshi signaled Chan to do their handshake that they made. Chan cleared his throat and sat up in his seat before he lifted his hand, following the movements of Hoshi before finally syncing together. His eyes never left the screen as he watched the amusement on your face continue to rise with every move. “See, I told you our handshake was good.”

He heard your laugh, “Nah Hoshi, that handshake was complete garbage. I can already tell that you were the one who came up with it,” He couldn’t seem to find the right time to speak and introduce himself to you, mainly because he was so distracted by you in general.

“Yeah whatever, it’s not like you could do better.” Hoshi rolled his eyes, looking at the younger one before him, smirking. He reached over and grabbed an extra bowl, setting it in front of Chan. “Eat with me. OH!” Hoshi introduced the two of you as he looked at Chan who was attempting to look anywhere but the camera as you waved and said hi.

“Nice to meet you.” Hoshi knew what he had to do because when he looked back at the phone on the table, you were trying to avoid eye contact too. ~

“Chan? Chan wake up.” He mumbled, sighing and tried to shoo away the person trying to wake him. “Chan, you missed your wedding.” He shot up.

“What?! Vernon, help me get ready please. Oh my god, how could I do this? What is wrong with me? Why did I have to take a nap- why are you just standing there?!” He looked at Vernon, a smirk on his lips.

“You see, your finance took a guess that you had probably fallen asleep and they were right. But you have,” he took a look at his watch, “2 hours and 30 minutes left before you get married. So right now, I suggest you take a shower and freshen up, get dressed then meet me in the lobby.” Chan nodded his head, but glared at Vernon for making him panic, and proceeded to the bathroom.

You had just finished fixing your hair and makeup. All that was left was to put on your attire which shouldn’t take long. You sat back on the small sofa in your hotel room, looking outside and seeing the rain from earlier become a small drizzle. Your mind wandered to Chan and what had happened when Vernon was in your room earlier. Chan tends to over nap and sleep longer than he intends to, so you figured it could be a possibility today which is why you had Vernon go and check on him.

There was a soft knock on the door. You got up and opened it to see Seungkwan there. “Hi, I’m just checking in on you. Chan sent me hours ago, but I got a bit… distracted.” You tilted your head to the side and let him into your room.

“Is everything okay?”

He turned to look at you, “OH, yeah, everything is, uh, fine.” You can see how on edge and nervous he was, which is kind of funny because this is your wedding day.

“What’s wrong Seungkwan?”

He sighed, letting out the breath he was holding in, “Okay well first, it is raining and I don’t know what to tell the guests. And two, I lost the paper with Chan’s vows. I’ve been feeling so bad about it, I tried to retrace my steps to figure out where I have put them but I just can’t find them anywhere.” You made him sit down, showing him a way to calm down.

“Kwan, it’s okay. I’m sure Chan will be fine, I mean we already know how much we love each other. Plus I didn’t write mine down because it’s all in my head, BUT it came from my heart. As for the guests, that’s your problem until I walk down the aisle.” Seungkwan’s head dropped before he took a final breath and stood up.

“I will make sure that this wedding is the best wedding you’ll ever have.”

“Well, it’ll be the only wedding that I hope to ever have.”

Chan finished fixing his tie and put on his blazer. Checking his watch, he had 45 minutes left before he was going to marry the love of his life. He quickly made his way out the door with all of his things and headed down to the lobby. He met up with Vernon and was greeted with a limo and all of his band mates there, except for Hoshi who was with you at the moment.

Getting inside, he took a deep breath and waited for his best friends to get in. Once they were on their way, he looked outside the window, tapping his fingers on his knee.

He couldn’t believe that in less than 40 minutes, he will be yours and you will be his. Chan didn’t even resist the smile that rose on his face as he thought about how you two got to know each other just only a few years ago.

It only began with simple text messages after Hoshi put you three into a group chat. He eventually forced you both to private message each other due to what he called, ‘cringe’ messages that you sent one another. But those messages soon turned into calls, then to facetime.

The first facetime made him nervous because not only were you busy, but the only time you were free to talk was when he would have to practice or record. But that didn’t stop him because he still proceeded to call you and ask for your input on a dance move of how he should sing a certain lyric. Obviously it wasn’t your interest at heart to bother him when he was clearly busy, but he wouldn’t let you end the call. Instead he made sure to talk to you and ask how you were doing or how your day was. It was very sweet of Chan, which is what made you fall in love with him because even though he was busy, he made time for you and included you in everything. It only got better when staff allowed him to bring you to filming.

Not only did you finally get to meet him for the first time, you also got to meet the other members as well as see Hoshi again.

“I can’t believe you traded me for Chan. Of all people.” You laughed at him and looked over to Chan who was filming something with Mingyu and Dokyeom.

“Well can you blame me?” Hoshi looked at you, eyebrows raised, eyes full of interest.

“Don’t tell me you fell for him when you both haven’t even gone on a date yet.”

Your silence answered his question as he began to yell causing you to flee towards the man that you were scared, but happy to fall for.

Not even two weeks after that day, Chan asked you to go with them on a trip, in which they planned to record for their fans. The right thing to say, and what you told him, was no because it would be too much of a bother, but he didn’t take no for an answer, so he brought Hoshi into it, causing you to go. And man were you glad that you went to it because not only did you witness some funny games that they played or watch Chan get thrown into the freezing cold pool, but it was the night that Chan confessed to you.

Chan planned it all out. Everyone was asleep, so he went out to the backyard, setting up the fairy lights and putting some lanterns out too. He snuck into your room and woke you up quietly, bringing you outside (with a jacket of course) and told you there, his eyes glistening with sparkles; a galaxy beneath it all. Although the gesture was romantic and beautiful, you were half asleep and ruined the moment by basically telling him, “I’m sorry Hoshi, but I like Chan.”

Didn’t change anything except it was now a funny story that you both look back to.

Chan’s smile slowly began to fade as a rush of nervousness took over his mind after seeing the world outside of the car turn into a parking place. He took a few deep breaths and got out of the car after his band members.

Taking a look around the area, he was surprised with how nice it looked. It was a bit dark due to the clouds covering the sun that was setting slowly, but the fairy lights and lanterns made it all more bright and beautiful. Thank god for Seungkwan choosing decent tents though.

“Wow.”

“Wow is indeed correct my friend, I popped off.” Chan laughed as his best friend took his place beside him. “Are you ready for this Chan? It’s almost time.”

Chan smiled and nodded his head, “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Seungkwan wrapped his arm around the younger, sighing and appreciating the work he put to make this day as special as he could for his bandmate. “You know, the proposal was way more stressful than this was.”

Groaning, Chan’s head fell back onto Seungkwan’s arm, “Don’t remind me.”

“Hey you gotta admit though, although I may have misplaced the ring, but I found it and I succeeded with the plan.” Chan nodded his head, wanting to reply but getting interrupted after seeing that your car had arrived.

The guests all shuffled quickly to their seats, the wedding party took their places with their partners, and Chan lined up with his mom and dad next to him. You were in the car with your parents waiting for everyone to walk down before you came out.

As the music began to play, it didn’t reach the ears of Chan because as he started to walk down the aisle with his parents by his side, his mind went back in time to relive the day he proposed to you. Damn Seungkwan for bringing it up; now he’s emotional.

~ It was around 5 o’clock in the evening, Chan was pacing back and forth in the living room and constantly checking the time on his watch. Seungkwan was supposed to be at the house with the ring before Chan had to go pick you up for your anniversary date.

It has been three years since the two of you got together and boy it has been a ride. From those phone calls and trips to where you both were now, Chan couldn’t ask for any better because he already has the best. He couldn’t even process that he was actually going to propose to you.

The knock on the door broke his train of thought as he quickly rushed to open it, seeing Seungkwan there panting. “Okay, I found it.”

“What do you mean you found it?! When did you lose it?!” Seungkwan pursed his lips, knowing that he accidentally slipped up.

“Hey, don’t focus on that now buddy! You got a date to get to.” Nervously, Seungkwan placed the small box in Chan’s palm before running in the opposite direction going god knows where.

Deciding to talk to him about it later, Chan grabbed his keys and made his way to his car to go and pick you up for the most magical evening he had planned.

Boy was it indeed magical for you. The sky painted a pretty orange, the fairy lights, lanterns and cool breeze; it couldn’t have been more perfect. Except it did get more perfect as you turned to look at your boyfriend of three years down on one knee. Your mouth fell open, then a shy smile took over as you turned your head away, trying to keep your emotions in check. You slowly turned your head to look at the nervous smile on his face, yet catching that same sparkle in his eyes like it was the same night he confessed to you all over again.

“Lord knows I would try to make a big speech about how much I love you, but I know you’re impatient and my knee kinda hurts. Will you make me more happy than I already am by marrying me?”

Shooting him a cheeky smile, you crouched down to be level with him, tears in your eyes, “I’m sorry Hoshi, but I’d rather marry Chan.” ~

Chan took his place to the left of the marriage officiant, while taking a deep breath, facing the crowd, but his eyes only on your car. He couldn’t believe that this day would come, the day he can call you his forever.

The crowd stood up to their feet, turning to watch as your parents emerged from the car, bright smiles on their faces. Your dad opened the door, reaching out for your hand to help you out of the vehicle. The second you came into view, Chan’s breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening as music began to play. He faintly heard Seungkwan mention how beautiful you look, only nodding due to his breathlessness.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he kept his eyes on you as your parents escorted you down the aisle, preparing to give you away. Without realizing it, a tear escaped his eye and he quickly tried to wipe it, keeping his head up higher. He took a step forward as you approached the front. He bowed to your parents and you kissed their cheek.

Chan held out his hand, a smile automatically rising as you smiled cheekily at him. Placing your hand in his palm, he walked with you, eyes keeping contact, “You look gorgeous.” A blush rose to your cheeks as you admired the man in front of you that you would soon marry.

Chan’s mind was racing and he knew that you noticed how sweaty his palms were. You gave his hand a squeeze to help soothe his emotions. It did help a bit, except it came back all over again when the officiant said their next sentence. “We've come to the point of your ceremony where you're going to say your vows to one another. Would Chan like to go first?”

“Wait, no I want to.”

Chan smiled as you nervously swung his hands that you held. You took a deep breath, trying to recall the words that you have been repeating in your head for the past couple of days.

“Chan, three years ago, I wouldn’t have ever imagined to be standing up here with you. You have taught me how to love and what it’s like to be loved. And to think that I simply thought of you as my best friend’s band member, but over these past years, you have become someone more to me. Now, here we are, with our future right ahead of us, and I only ever want to spend it with you, my soulmate. I love you so much.”

Chan let out a shaky breath as the officiant signaled him to recite his vows. He felt a tap on his shoulder as he saw Seungkwan hold up the paper that had his vows. Nodding his head, he didn’t take the paper and looked back into your eyes.

“You know, earlier today as I was getting ready, I was worried about the weather and how it would ruin our perfect day. But when I kept having little flashbacks of how we met, how I confessed and proposed, I realized that those memories never ended up perfect like I wanted them to, but with you there, with your beautiful smile and bright eyes, it was always perfect to begin with. And I can’t wait for the perfect life we have before us. I love you.”

A tear escaped your eye as Chan quickly wiped it, giving you a loving smile. The officiant gave a satisfied smile, “May I have the rings please? Thank you.” He handed the ring to you, “Please repeat after me.”

Taking Chan’s left hand, you followed the words the officiant said, slipping the ring onto his ring finger. He smiled and repeated the process the officiant requested the both of you to follow. Turning both of your heads to the man performing your wedding ceremony, he shot you both an excited smile.

“By the power of your love and commitment, and the power vested in me, I now pronounce you a life of everlasting love together.”

The second Chan caught the signal, he cupped your face delicately in his hands and placed his lips softly onto yours, kissing you with passion.

Breaking away, the two of you failed to notice the clapping and cheers around you as you only looked at each other, staring lovingly into one another's eyes. You caught that same glimmer in his, wishing that it never fades, but not knowing that the sparkle was only made for you.

#seventeen #seventeen scenarios #seventeen reactions #seventeen imagines #seventeen dino #seventeen oneshot #HAPPY HOLIDAYS #MERRY CHRISTMAS #tct fam lets get it

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dawninlatin · 3 years

Text

‘tis the damn season, chapter 1

A belated gift for @ladywitchling <3 Merry Christmas my love, hope you appreciate this as much as I appreciate you!<3

Words: 1728

AO3 Link

Masterlist

Manon prepares to spend Christmas alone. Little does she know Elide has other plans...

«Are you sure you’re fine with being alone on Christmas?»

Manon couldn’t help but sigh, hoping that Asterin wouldn’t hear it through the phone. She appreciated her cousin’s worrying, but calling four times a day to check in was a bit excessive.

«Yes, Asterin.» She twisted in her office chair, opening her laptop. «It’s not as if we ever did anything special for Christmas anyway.» Manon glanced at the clock, then at the amount of unopened emails. It would be a while before she was done for the day, but she didn’t mind. No one was waiting for her.

Elide had left this morning to spend the holiday with her family, and without the presence of her cheery girlfriend, Manon didn’t really see the point of celebrating Christmas. She had received an invitation to join Asterin, but she had a family of her own now. Manon would only feel like an intruder the whole night.

As if she’d read Manon’s mind, Asterin said from the other end of the line, «Not doing much for Christmas isn’t the same as being alone.»

«I know that, but-»

Before she find a way finish that sentence, Asterin interrupted her again. «Can’t Elide-»

«Elide has already left to celebrate with her family, as she should.» Manon tried to ignore the sound of defeat in her voice as she yet again was reminded of how empty their apartment would be. Maybe that was why she’d decided to work overtime on Christmas Eve.

Saying goodbye to her girlfriend earlier today had been torture, and all Manon had wanted was to pull Elide into a tight embrace and spend all of Christmas cozied up in bed, just the two of them.

She didn’t though. Instead she put on a brave smile and held back her tears as her favorite person walked out the door.

Rolling her eyes at her own dramatics, Manon said to Asterin, «Christmas is overrated anyway. And I mean it when I say I don’t mind being alone.»

Liar. Dirty, filthy liar.

«Okay,» Asterin sighed at last, obviously spotting the lie, but playing along nonetheless. «You’re probably happy to finally have some peace and quiet.»

«Damn right I am,» Manon smiled, her heart once again filling up with love for her cousin. Before Elide, Asterin had been the only person Manon had. The two cousins had been raised by the same cruel grandmother, and it had made them inseparable, always looking after one another.

«I’ll leave you to it then. I need to take a long nap before I can do anything else. Willow kept us up all night.» Asterin yawned, and Manon chuckled slightly at the sound of her tired cousin. Being the mother of a one-year-old wasn’t easy. Especially not when that one-year-old was also the daughter of Fenrys Moonbeam.

Speaking of the devil… «You still talking to The Grinch?»

Manon tipped her head back and laughed as Fenrys’ voice filled her ear. The nickname was one he’d lovingly began to call her after she’d voiced her aversion for the bright and merry season.

«Hello to you too, Fenrys.»

«Wait a moment,» Asterin suddenly said. «I’m turning on the FaceTime camera.»

Manon could hear some shuffling coming from the phone she’d pulled away from her ear, and then the small family filled her screen. She smiled warmly at the sight of a very tired Willow, who looked like she’d just been woken up from a nap of her own by the way her soft curls stood in every direction and how she clung to her father.

«Hey Willow,» Manon cooed, and the little girl’s face lit up at the sight of her auntie.

She babbled some nonsense, and Asterin handed her the phone, which she immediately put in her mouth.

«No!» Asterin was quick to steal the phone back, but the glare Willow gave her had Manon laughing again.

«Alright, it looks like someone is hungry, so I’ll hang up now.» Manon waved at her niece. «Bye, Willow!»

«Can you say bye to auntie Manon?» Even after a year, she still filled with pride whenever anyone called her that, and as Willow waved enthusiastically, Manon forgot all sadness from earlier.

Pressing a kiss to his wife’s cheek, Fenrys took Willow and left the frame. «Let’s go and feed The Kraken!»

«Fenrys!» Asterin called after him, but she was grinning.

«Merry Christmas, Asterin,» Manon said softly, ready to turn her attention back to her work.

«Merry Christmas, Manon. I love you.»

«I love you too,» she replied, and hung up.

Manon debated calling Elide as well, while she was at it, but it was getting dark outside, so she decided it was best to just finish for the day and go home to suffer through Christmas alone.

Three hours later, Manon was finally finished with her workload. There was only one last thing to do…

Groaning as she got up from her desk, Manon made her way towards the office of the only other person grumpy and joyless enough to spend the holiday at work.

If Manon was the Grinch, Lorcan Salvaterre had to be something far, far worse.

She knocked on his door, and he responded with an annoyed «What do you want.»

Stepping into his office, Manon scowled at the sight of her least favorite person in the world. She really didn’t have the patience to deal with this today.

«I’m done for the day, so I just wanted to check if you got the files I sent you,» Manon stated, examining her nails with a bored look on her face.

Lorcan’s signature frown entered his face as he checked his email, then looked back too Manon. «Yeah, so you can leave now. I wanna work in peace.»

«Too bad I came here to chit-chat then, since you’re like, my favorite person in the whoooole world,» Manon deadpanned, turning on her heel so she didn’t have to stay a minute more in his miserable presence.

Manon and Lorcan saw each other an awful lot for basically being archenemies. It wasn’t enough that they worked together. No, two years back, Elide had been taking her to a party so she could finally meet her friends, and none other than Lorcan fucking Salvaterre had greeted them, his smile quickly shifting to a scowl as Manon had muttered a not-so-quiet you’ve got to be kidding me.

Thinking about the memory, she stopped in the doorway, her longing from earlier having returned at full force. A small smile played on her lips as she looked over her shoulder. «Have a shitty Christmas, Salvaterre.»

Lorcan let out a small chuckle. «You too, Blackbeak.»

Sitting on the train, Manon suddenly began to regret not decorating the apartment. It felt wrong to know that she was on her way to an empty apartment, as ordinary-looking as always, when she was surrounded by so many people dressed in finery, on their way to see friends and family, twinkling lights passing in a blur.

A wave of sadness rushed through her. She would have given anything to have Elide by her side right now, holding her hand, talking about her day, smiling, laughing, just being there.

Actual tears burned behind her eyes then, and Manon silently cursed Christmas for making her so emotional. She never cried! And now she was being all sappy because she’d been away from her girlfriend for a grand total of ten hours. What was wrong with her?

Her phone chimed in her purse, interrupting her sad music video moment, and when Manon saw who had texted her, she had to fight even harder to hold back the tears.

Elide<3: You on your way home yet?<3

Manon: On the train now

She thought for a second, before sending another message.

Manon: Thinking of you<3

Elide<3: Thinking of you too, can’t wait to see you again<3<3

Had her younger self seen this, she would have snorted at the sappy words and heart emojis, but there was no denying it, no one could resist the charm of Elide Lochan.

Looking up once more, Manon saw that it had started to snow, the world already covered by a white blanket.

Next year she would accept Asterin’s invitation, Manon promised herself.

Standing before her door, Manon spent longer than necessary fumbling for her keys. Maybe some part of her didn’t want to enter the empty apartment, she was mature enough to admit that.

Because whether she wanted to acknowledge it or not, it was Christmas, and she was sad because Elide wasn’t there, and her home wasn’t decorated and her dinner was a miserable plate of yesterday’s leftovers and her only plan was to watch a movie, alone.

Manon let out a sigh as she let her head hit the door, needing a moment to gather herself. «it’s your own fault for trying to be so fucking independent and untouchable the whole time,» she whispered.

She gave herself one more second to brood, then she twisted the key and eased the door open.

A few steps into the hallway, Manon stopped short, a confused look on her face. She’d turned off the lights this morning, hadn’t she? And was that…?

It was music, the soft tones of some Christmas song, coming from the kitchen.

Looking around, there were even a few decorations put up, a mistletoe hanging over the entrance to the living room.

«Hello?» Manon called, not letting herself really think about who this had to be. Not letting that kind of hope come to life.

Heart pounding in her chest, she stepped into the living room, and could do nothing but gasp in awe as she took in her surroundings. A Christmas tree stood in the corner, the room lit up by its softly glowing lights, and everywhere there were little trinkets and other decorations. On the mantel of the fireplace was a picture of her and Elide that hadn’t been there before. It was from last week, Manon recognized, when they’d been at the Christmas market, and on the frame were the words: Make the yuletide gay. A bubbling laugh escaped her, and she couldn’t hold the tears back this time.

A voice sounded from the kitchen, and Manon turned around, only to be met by a pair of shining eyes and a bright smile.

«Merry Christmas, my love.»

Taglist: @ireallyshouldsleeprn @ladywitchling

I keep a separate taglist for every ship, so let me know if you want to be added to any of them!

#malide #manon x elide #manon blackbeak #elide lochan #lorcan salvaterre #asterin blackbeak #fenrys moonbeam #asterin x fenrys #fensterin #sarah j maas #sjm #throne of glass #tog #queen of shadows #qos

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mysmesomefluff · 3 years

Text

Believe Again: Chapter 33 (Preview)

Three years later

When Saeran left the apartment this morning, it was clean, pristine and neat. He had left everything in order, having been the last one on cleaning duty over the weekend.

But now… eight hours later, he had returned… only to find that the apartment now looked like it had been completely and utterly ravaged. There was a (thankfully) wrapped diaper lying abandoned in a corner, splotches of milk powder on the floor, and little white footprints mixed with big ones trailing into the hallway. The couch looked like someone had been using it as a trampoline, pillows and cushions had been left on the floor, children’s books and toys were scattered everywhere like leaves in fall, and the dining table was a mess of food stains, some of which looked suspiciously like vomit.

Saeran had come home early, skipping out on dinner with his friends at college because MC wanted him home for dinner today. But he was starting to regret his decision when he surveyed the apartment, a grimace forming on his features when he realized he would almost certainly be dragged into cleaning everything up together with his stupid brother. Said man had one simple job today: to babysit his three-year-old child, while MC went out to do some grocery shopping.

And as expected, he had failed spectacularly at it.

The wind slammed the door shut loudly before Saeran could grab the handle. Not thinking much of it, Saeran shrugged and entered, but was promptly startled by a wail—one that belonged not to his niece, but to his brother.

Saeran sighed, carefully tip-toeing his way past the minefield of dirt to avoid getting his socks dirty. He managed past the living room and was about to approach the hallway that looked equally disastrous, when he heard an adorable, heart-stopping voice.

“Ran? Un-ko?”

Saeran froze in his tracks, wavering slightly as he almost lost his balance in the awkward position he was standing in, with one foot directly in front of the other. He was this close to stepping on a puddle of water, and he refused to get his socks wet.

The voice was followed by the sound of little feet running across the floor, like the soft pitter-patter of rain. Saeran’s eyes darted to the source of the noise, and there he found his little niece, with her wild bedhead and rubbing her big, yellow eyes. It was the most adorable thing to watch—the moment she noticed him, he watched as the sleepiness in her features evaporated in a flash, her lips parting into the brightest beam he had ever seen.

And then she was running towards him, releasing a high-pitched squeal as she went as if she were a train.

Saeran didn’t even have time to register his foot stepping into the water when she practically slammed her face against his calf, her little arms wrapping tightly around his leg like a koala to a tree.

“Unko Ran!” she cried happily, and Saeran didn’t even realise he was smiling until he noticed the slight ache in his cheeks. He bent down and scooped her into his arms easily, listening to the sound of her laugh echoing off the walls.

“Were you a good girl today, Eun-byeol?”

“Yes!” she nodded enthusiastically, cheeks turning a rosy pink as she held his cheek with one tiny hand. “Play, play!”

“I was just about to put her to sleep…” Another voice emerged, and Saeran craned his neck to see his brother slinking out of the bedroom, looking like Death itself. His hair was a complete mess, and he had what looked like marker stains on his arms and face—he must have let her use him as paper again.

It took a moment for Saeran to realise what had probably happened, his mind going back to the loud sound that the door created when it slammed shut earlier.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch the door handle in time. The wind was too strong.”

Saeyoung merely sighed, but it seemed more exhausted than anything else. Saeran could only guess at what on earth happened in this house today. No doubt, his niece must have been a handful—she had inherited her mischievousness from Saeyoung and her stubbornness from MC. And that made for one very difficult and out-of-control kid.

Saeran remembered Saeyoung retelling how Vanderwood had laughed when he first begged him to help babysit, saying something about how “karma’s a bitch” before hanging up on him altogether.

As terrible as it sounded, Saeran couldn’t help but agree.

The most peculiar thing was that for some reason, his niece had taken an exceptional liking to him, attached to him at the hip and always wanting to play with him. It didn’t help that “Un-ko” were her first words, instead of “Mama” or “Papa”. That had upset MC and Saeyoung both so much that Saeran almost felt guilty for playing with Eun-byeol whenever she so asked.

But it wasn’t like he could refuse her, not when she was so cute. She had big, round yellow eyes, fat cheeks that he loved to poke and pinch, long, wavy red hair that made her look like an angel, and her voice was adorable too. Especially when she called his name. Like she was doing now.

“Yes, yes, I’m here,” he chuckled, patting her on the head.

“She was asking about you all day, you know. Ever since we told her that you were staying for dinner today. She even refused to take her nap until you were back.”

“You were?” Saeran asked, turning his attention back to his niece, who was beaming at him proudly once again, as if she had achieved something huge. Well, he supposed, to a three-year-old, staying up past naptime was a huge feat in itself.

“Play, Unko Ran!”

“But you need to nap first.”

His answer didn’t please the three-year-old. Her lips dropped into a pout, and she shook her head. “No, play play!”

“We’ll play after you nap,” he told her firmly, already walking back to the bedroom where she had emerged from. She started to struggle, and he had to tighten his hold around her lest she fell out of his grasp.

“No! No!”

“If you’re good, I’ll let you crack the eggs later.”

That was the most effective bribe he had up his sleeve. Saeran smiled to himself when he watched her pause thoughtfully, mentally calculating the pros and cons of his suggestion. She had been obsessed with cracking eggs ever since they made pancakes together in the kitchen, of course while she was seated safely in her high-chair and watched Saeran do all the work. She had pleaded and begged for him to let her try cracking the eggs but he hadn’t allowed it. It took a while to placate her by giving her a slice of lemon to play with instead.

“Okay…”

She was rewarded with a peck on the forehead. “That’s my girl.”

It didn’t take long for him to put her to sleep—since she had been staying up past her naptime she was already exhausted. Within five minutes she was out cold, although it took another minute for him to carefully wrestle his index finger out from her grasp without waking her.

When Saeran left the room, he was greeted by the sight of Saeyoung wiping the floor with a wet cloth. He took a moment to watch his brother do the work, sighing as he went and looking thoroughly drained.

Parenthood was certainly taking its toll on this inexperienced father who couldn’t do anything without his wife.

In an uncommon show of sympathy, Saeran stepped forward, snatched the rag from his brother, who then looked at him, confused.

“Go sleep. You look horrible,” was all he said, before he took over and started wiping the same spot that his brother had earlier.

Saeran hated cleaning already, and his stupid brother just had to make it worse by squealing his name and throwing his arms around him in a hug. It took two kicks before Saeyoung finally let go, rubbing at the sore spots on his thigh but still wearing the silly, idiotic grin on his face.

“Thanks, Saeran. I appreciate it.”

“Just shut up and go to sleep or I’ll knock you out myself.”

***

A/N: I’m so sorry that this took so long, I died during recess week lmao and I actually had this part written out before but then I scrapped everything and re-did it soooooo yeah.

I ended up thinking more about how I can develop the plot to end things on a fluffier and happier note, which is why this probably isn’t the last chapter (AAAAAA I WAS SO READY FOR IT TO END BUT AT THE SAME TIME I WANT FLUFF)

so yeah i’ll TRY MY BEST. To upload soon. But also finals are in like a moNTH so :D Anyways I’ll definitely have time to work on this after finals so wheeee it’s just a matter of time (I’m SORRY THAT I ALWAYS KEEP PPL WAITING am truly unreliable but :”(((( thx for sticking with this story i rly rly appreciate it)

okay enough rant from me i’ll try working on this chapter more although my plan is for it to be p r e t t y l o a d e d so it miiiight not come so soon either. I’ll just try :)

#mystic messenger #saeran fanfiction #saeran choi #saeran #my writing #believe again

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argylemnwrites · 4 years

Text

Fight or Flight - Chapter 8: Regret

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Heir (canon divergent from the end of book 2)

Word Count: ~3500

Rating: R (language only)

Summary: Thirty one hours since The Walker Absconding

Author’s Note: Shall we even pretend there is a posting schedule at this point? Oh well, another chapter has arrived. This series follows the Walkers, their friends, and Cordonia as a whole after they flee the country with their daughter during Barthelemy Beaumont’s attempted coup. To catch up on this series, check out it’s masterlist. (link can be found via my bio - sorry, Tumblr is once again not putting my posts with links in tag searches)

Drake popped his headphones in, trying not to wake up Bridget as he pulled open a video on his new phone. He was also supposed to be sleeping, at least theoretically. It’s why Riley had gone into the bathroom a couple of hours ago - so that he could turn off the lights and it would be relatively quiet. If he slept now, after all, he would be able to drive through the night. But he’d been wide awake for the past three hours, and at this point, he wasn’t even sure if attempting to sleep was worth it. So he just laid in the dark, his daughter sleeping peacefully next to him. Thank god she wasn’t doing that whole sleep reversal thing she’d been doing last month, where she’d been waking up maybe a dozen times over night. Her being a good sleeper was maybe the one saving grace here.

Today had just been stomach churning since he’d left to go track down a car and supplies. He hadn’t known whether to be grateful or freaked out when he’d returned to the hotel this afternoon, and Riley had a list of things they needed to do typed up on her phone. While he was glad she no longer seemed like she was about to sink into a pit of panic, seeing her planning with this much intensity was just… strange. He couldn’t think of a time she had ever made such a detailed list. She always just adapted to the situation at hand. She never tried to shape the situation herself.

But between what she’d found in her “fugitive research,” and what Hana had told them when she called after the hearing, they were starting to come up with a plan. Hana had told them that Rashad was going to be sworn in as regent tomorrow and that Olivia was technically “investigating” their location at the moment. That as soon as Rashad took on the powers of king-regent, Olivia was going to disclose that Bertrand and Maxwell hadn’t “found” them at Lythikos, so she’d sent Hana to “check” that they hadn’t returned to Valtoria, but that she hadn’t found them there either. They were all repeatedly calling their old phone numbers as well, hoping to make the story believable when Rashad undoubtedly opened an investigation into their disappearance with Bridget.

But all this meant that arrest warrants could be issued as soon as tomorrow morning. The hearing wouldn’t take long, and no one was sure if Rashad would see things as a sign of an attack on all three of them, or if he would correctly deduce that they had made a run for it and willingly left the country with Bridget. Either way, their financial and phone records were likely to be subject to review. And that meant they needed to not be anywhere near Ioannina by the time of the hearing.

The issue was, they wanted to withdraw more cash before the investigation froze their accounts. This meant using the same ATM they’d been using one more time, at 12:01 am when it was a new day and they could withdraw their daily max again without giving anyone a new location to investigate. Then, it would be time to get in the newly-purchased hatchback and drive on to Xanthi, the city they’d chosen as their next stop. Small enough that no one would predict it as their destination, big enough that Riley, a woman of East Asian heritage who only spoke English with a still-persistent New York accent wouldn’t be immediately noticeable. Drake liked that it was past Thessaloniki as well. No one would guess they drove hours further into Greece than a city with an American consulate.

So, in preparation for that drive, Drake needed to be sleeping. Even after several years out of Manhattan, Riley still hated driving, and in all honesty, the thought of her behind the wheel in a country where she couldn’t read the road signs was not reassuring to Drake in the slightest. He wanted to be the one solely responsible for the driving. But that meant he should be napping now. But how was he supposed to sleep at a time like this?

In the past day or so, he’d gone from a very stable existence to literally plotting how to hide out from law enforcement. He’d embezzled money and bribed a used car salesman to look the other way and not require him to register the car for official Greek or Cordonian papers. He’d left the only home he’d ever known, not knowing if he’d ever get to go back. How could anyone sleep after a day like that?

So instead of sleeping, he was watching news coverage of Liam’s speech that he’d given only a few hours earlier. Speculation was rampant as to both why the vote of no confidence was called and as to who the acting regent would be. Who his daughter’s regent would be. Because for the past few hours, the 10 month old sleeping on the mattress next to him had technically been the Queen-Regent of Cordonia.

It was a strange feeling, knowing that going forward, Bridget would be listed as Queen-Regent Bridget in history books, her rule starting today. Liam’s request had kind of always seemed like simple bookkeeping before. Although Liam told the press that Bridget would remain next in line for the throne even if he had children of his own, Drake had always kind of assumed they would readdress the whole situation when Liam actually got married. It had seemed highly likely to him that Bridget would end up just being a temporary placeholder, someone needed to convey stability of the Crown until Liam had a kid or two of his own. And even if she had remained next in line for the throne, Drake never really thought he’d see her take on the title. She was only supposed to rise to that position after Liam’s death.

It was probably something he should have put more thought into, to be honest. But he hadn’t, at least not anywhere near enough. And now there was no great way to undo it. She was the queen-regent now. Abdication for her, as a minor with the title, would be a nightmare at this point. Even if her title was just through the Conclave, the steps that they would have to take to change things now, the support they would need from the assholes who just voted against them and Liam, well… Drake wasn’t counting on that happening any time soon.

He opened up the CBC app to watch another site’s coverage of Liam’s speech, but his phone started buzzing in his hand. The number flashing across the screen had a Cordonian country code, but it wasn’t Olivia or Hana’s burner numbers, which they’d already added to their contact list. This had to be either Liam or Maxwell on a new number. Taking a deep breath, he popped out the headphones and swiped to accept the call.

“Hello?”

There was a brief pause before Liam’s voice came through the speaker. “Hello, Drake.”

Drake didn’t know what to say. It was his turn to speak, but what do you say to someone you’ve known almost your entire life when they lost everything? When you’d let them down? After too many seconds, he finally managed, “So, you… uh, got our new numbers?”

“Yes. Hana and Olivia provided me with them.”

“Right. Well… good. You, uh… you should have our numbers.” Drake ran his hand over his face. He couldn’t be more awkward about this if he tried.

“Indeed,” said Liam, after a beat, “So, how are you all doing?”

“We’re okay, I guess. How are you?”

The pause was longer this time. “It’s been a long couple of days, Drake.”

The weight of that sentence settled over Drake, the guilt he already carried multiplying in that moment. “I’m so sorry, Liam.”

All Liam gave in response was a little hum of acknowledgement, so Drake kept speaking, trying to find some words that would make this better, that would make Liam see how sorry he was.

“We just couldn’t wait around, you know? We didn’t know how things were going to go down, and when Barthelemy started talking about taking Bridget, we couldn’t just risk that, and so we had to do something, right? And I know this leaves you in a tricky spot, but you’ve gotta know, I wish… I don’t know, that we weren’t doing this to you, I guess? But… it’s just fucked up all around, isn’t it?” Drake knew he was rambling, that he'd basically spewed out a whole bunch of garbage, but he just didn’t know what else to do.

“What do you want me to say, Drake? You’re right; the decisions you and Riley made have made things much more complicated for me. Are you looking for me to say that I don’t blame you? That I support this course of action?”

“What else were we supposed to do?” Drake asked. He could hear his voice raising slightly, and he glanced down, checking that he hadn’t woken Bridget, but she was still passed out.

“I told you back when you were trying to have a child that if it ever became too much, to inform me, and we would reserve the proclamation.”

“Are you really trying to tell me that in the middle of everything that was happening yesterday, it would have been a good time to pull you aside and ask to undo all that shit?”

Liam let out a sigh before he answered, “It seems like that would have been preferable to you deciding to commit treason.”

Drake slammed his eyes shut, trying to keep his temper in check. Liam was already dealing with a lot, and he didn’t want to make things worse, but his words were so frustrating right now. “We didn’t even know if you would have the power to undo any of it after that vote.”

“You could have at least waited until we knew the results of that initial hearing. At that point-”

“What if the justice had decided you had no power last night instead of today?” Drake interrupted. He saw Riley coming out of the bathroom and back into their room. She obviously must have heard him on the phone. He just shook his head, trying to reassure her as he kept talking to Liam. “That’s a big fucking gamble to ask of us, Liam.”

“Fine, then some middle-ground or compromise still would have probably been better. You have to know how ill-conceived this scheme you’ve agreed to is, Drake.”

“What would you suggest, then? Sitting around, just waiting to see if we got to keep our kid?”

“Of course not. But if you get arrested and extradited back here, you will absolutely lose custody of your daughter. I would urge you to consider that fact. Additionally, Rashad is not going to be interested in becoming some sort of surrogate parent to Bridget over the next few months.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? That the man you have lined up as my kid’s regent has no interest in caring for her?” Riley mouthed “What?” at him from across the room, but Drake just waved his hand and shook his head again. He’d have to fill her in later.

“My point, Drake, is that Rashad would likely be very amenable to you and Riley staying with Bridget in the role as her caretakers and-”

“Stop. I’m not going to listen to that shit, okay? You know that’s not the same. You fucking know it, Liam.”

There was a rough sigh before Liam spoke again. “Fair enough. But you have to understand that you have put me in an awful position. And I’m just trying to find a way to minimize the damage caused by your selfishness here.”

“How is looking out for my wife and kid selfish?” Bridget squirmed slightly next to him as his voice climbed louder yet again. Riley must have noticed, because she scurried over and tucked her against her chest, muttering soothing words against the top of her head, trying to keep her from waking up.

“Did you think about how fleeing the country would impact anyone? Your citizens in Valtoria who no longer have a regional leader? The people of Cordonia who no longer have an heir to the throne? Your friends who have advocated for you and your family time and time again? No. You just left. You only thought of yourselves. That is the dictionary definition of selfish, Drake.”

“I’m sorry, but my family comes first. This isn’t fucking up for debate.”

“Well, some of us don’t have that luxury.”

Both Drake and Liam were silent for several seconds. Drake took a shaky breath, trying to get his emotions back under control. “Liam. I’m sorry. I really am. I never wanted to do this to you, and I know you are left cleaning up the pieces here, but I am not going to come back just for Bridget to get trapped inside the country and possibly taken from us.”

“Drake, don’t be so-”

“She’s queen-regent now, so no way we don’t get stopped at the border if we came back and tried to leave again, right? In fact, I bet we wouldn’t be allowed outside the palace with her, and that’s if we’re allowed to be alone with her at all-”

“Now you’re just being dramatic-”

“Am I? Because to me, it feels like you want me to come back and hang my hat on the hopes that Rashad needs a couple of nannies. I get the risks we are taking here. But at least we have a shot of staying together as a family this way.”

“Look, I understand that this is upsetting and frustrating. I’m upset and frustrated, too. All I want is to try and create a united front here. If we are fractured and divided, it is worse for everyone in the long run. We all want what’s best for Bridget.”

“You aren’t part of any ‘we’ here. She’s not your kid. You don’t get a say.”

The silence on the other end of the line was awful. Riley climbed onto the bed and leaned up against the headboard. One arm still held Bridget tight to her chest, but her free hand snaked behind him and rubbed soothing circles between his shoulder blades. It just did little to calm him. He didn’t know if more of his anger was directed at Liam, for presuming he had any say here, or at himself, for getting defensive when he was the one who had hurt Liam and put him in this position.

“I have never interfered in any parenting decisions you or Riley have made with regards to Bridget. In fact, I have given you both an unprecedented amount of freedom and control, knowing that it was an unusual situation. But it seems to me like we have nothing further to say to each other at the moment. You are unwilling to discuss the bigger picture here.”

“Liam, don’t-” Drake started, but Liam just kept talking.

“I understand why you’ve taken this course of action. But it is apparent that your priorities are only your daughter, whereas I need to focus on Cordonia as a whole. So, I think at this point we both need to just devote ourselves to those tasks and not worry about each other.”

It was a dismissal. A line in the sand. Whatever inner circle Liam had, Drake was no longer a part of it. He let out a sigh and swallowed roughly. “I am sorry, Liam. I just don’t know what you expect me to do here.”

“I don’t expect anything of you, Drake. You should just do what you feel is best for your family, and I will do what’s needed for our country.”

“Come on, it doesn’t have to be this way. I still want to help-”

“No offense, but a couple of fugitives are not likely to be a great resource to me at this point. This isn’t a punishment, Drake; it’s just the reality. We’ve both made the choices we needed to make, and now we both need to deal with the consequences. I need to remain focused on campaigning to regain my title, and I’m not going to have the time or energy to devote to aiding your run.”

“I’m not asking for your help, dammit. I just want-”

“What do you want, Drake? You don’t get to have this both ways.”

“I want… I want us still to be friends.”

He heard a heavy sigh before Liam spoke again. “Of course we are still friends, Drake. We just are headed in separate directions at this time, it would seem. You now have this number, though. You can reach me if you need to, and I will do the same.”

“Liam, I-”

“I wish you and your family the best; I really do. And if you change your mind, you can come find us in Lythikos.”

Drake closed his eyes. There was no salvaging this. Liam was boxing him out and closing the door. He was pretty sure having Liam screaming at him would have stung less. “Alright, I get it. Good luck with everything, okay?”

“Same to you. I really hope you don’t regret your decisions here and that you all can remain safe.” And with that, Liam ended the call.

Drake placed his phone on the bed and leaned forward, dropping his head into both of his hands. He swallowed several times, trying to break up the lump in his throat. He was very aware that although Riley seemed to be in a better spot than she was the day before, watching him cry over Liam was not going to instill much confidence. No need to make things more unsettled.

After a few moments, he took a deep breath and sat back up. Riley was staring at him, head cocked and eyes full of worry. He just shrugged and shook his head. There wasn’t much to say, really.

“Here,” Riley said, shifting forward and passing Bridget to him.

“I don’t want to wake her,” he muttered, but Riley continued, sliding Bridget into his arms before leaning against his shoulder, her hand slipping along his neck and her fingers threading through his hair.

“She’ll fall asleep in the car,” she said. Drake watched as his daughter blinked up at him, her face scrunched up like she was going to start screaming, but she relaxed and started to drift back to sleep when he pulled her against his chest and tucked his head on top of hers.

He just held her for maybe a minute, not saying anything. Riley was quiet as well, her fingers continuing to trace little patterns across the base of his scalp. Eventually, she tilted her head against his shoulder and whispered, “Do you want to talk about it or not?”

“No,” he breathed out, “not… not now.”

He felt her nodding, and her other hand settled on his knee. “Okay. Thank you, by the way.”

“Walker, it’s-”

“You don’t need to say it’s nothing. And I know you don’t want to talk about it now. So just… thank you.”

Neither of them said anything for a long while. They just sat there, trying to brace themselves for the reality of the next 24 hours. They would officially be under investigation and likely be charged with kidnapping of the queen-regent. This was the point of no return, far more than any decisions they’d made up until this point.

Oddly enough, Drake felt more confident in their plan than he had even before. As upsetting as his talk with Liam was, it had somehow helped him see why Riley was so reluctant to rely on anyone outside their family. Something about hearing Liam discuss the risks they would be facing in Cordonia as if they were nothing. As if living under the same roof as Bridget should be enough. As if they had time to wait for things to unfold. Well, it made it very clear that they saw what could be compromised and what couldn’t very differently.

He wasn’t sure how long they sat there, but eventually Riley sat up next to him. “Did you get any sleep at all?” she asked as he turned his head to look at her.

“No, not really.”

“Well, we better get going then so we can get some coffee before we hit the road.” And with that she slid off the bed and started gathering their few bags of belongings.

She was right. It was time to move on. So he gently clicked Bridget into her new car seat and did one last scan of the room, making sure they weren’t leaving anything they needed behind.

“You ready?” Riley asked.

“Yeah, Riley. Let’s go.”

Permatag: @walkerswhiskeygirl @riley--walker @bebepac @ravenpuff02 @oofchoices @octobereighth @drakewalker04 @kimmiedoo5 @mfackenthal @thequeenofcronuts

The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir: @ao719 @mskaneko @katedrakeohd @jovialyouthmusic @marshmallowsandfire @axwalker @kingliam2019 @sirbeepsalot @texaskitten30 @princessleac1 @ladyangel70 @dcbbw @yaushie

Drake x MC: @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @iplaydrake @gibbles82 @drakewalkerisreal @notoriouscs @drakesensworld @drake-colt-lover-99

Fight or Flight: @masterofbluff @burnsoslow @bobasheebaby @shz256 @iaminlovewithtrr

#drake walker #drake x mc #trr au #trh au #trr fanfic #trh fanfic #trr au fanfic #trh au fanfic #king liam #choices fanfiction

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storysofmyown · 3 years

Text

Seven stages of love Chapter 4: Pragma

Summary: Ever since the Celestial War, since they all fell, Asmodeus has dedicated himself to his sin. Not caring about anything else, but drowning himself in the pleasure and ecstasy of it all. But not anymore, now he cant even handle the idea of it. But, what else is there to want? After so long of having indulged in his sin, what is there than Asmodeus is looking for, something that will fill him, and that wont drive him to destruction? Perhaps his brothers can help him with that. Warnings will appear in each chapter.

Trigger Warning: Anger, insults, alludes to intimate moments.

Word count: 3079

Read on ao3

“…okay that’s it!”

Mammon’s voice echoed in the dining room as he slammed his hands on the table. A small, and yet determined glare on his face as he starred at Asmodeus. His sudden reaction making the younger demon jump, as Belphegor kept napping like nothing had happened. Asmodeus looked almost uninterested at his older brother, raising an eyebrow as he placed his cup down before sighing.

“Mammon don’t be so loud. I barely got any sleep last night.” He stated, fixing his gaze to be back on the cup. He was beyond tired. He hadn’t been sleeping or eating well, his head was a mess, confusion, doubt, and strange feelings deep inside of him. And like always, he wasn’t step closer to figuring anything out.

Every time he took a step it felt like whatever answered was bestowed upon him made him walk five back. He didn’t know what to do…what he needed. Another term got in the way, a contradiction that put everything on another angle, it was never-ending, it was soffocating. First it was Belphegor, then Leviathan, and the most recent being Satan. His head was a total mess that kept him awake at night. And even if he tried to sleep at night, the voices that came along with the long lasting feelings; the visions on his mind just made it utterly impossible to get even a second of rest. If it wasn’t because Beel had forced him to come down to eat something, he wouldn’t have left his room today at all either. He was thankful that they had the decency to not be all on the dining room at once. But then again, they had left him with the loudest of his brothers, and he already knew this day was going to be anything but peaceful.

“Don’t be so loud my ass. You have been acting like Leviathan lately, which is totally freaky. So,” Mammon, smirking, slammed his hands on the table again, getting him a glare from Asmodeus. “I am taking you out tonight. And be grateful, little brother, your favorite big bro will be paying!” Mammon had an almost satisfied smirk at his declaration, making Asmodeus raise an eyebrow.

“…you didn’t say anything about Lucifer joining as well.” Asmo teases, which merely gets him a glare from Mammon.

“I meant me and you know it!” He hisses, before shaking his head. “That’s beyond the point. Get ready, tonight we are going somewhere, and I will NOT take a no for an answer!” Mammon pointed his finger at Asmodeus, making him sigh yet again, letting his head rest on his palm as his elbow rested on the table, a distant expression in his eyes.

If Mammon had proposed that at least a month ago, Asmodeus would have jumped on the opportunity immediately. It was rare for his brothers to join him, and while he used to have a lot of fun, their presence just made it better. Correction: he thought he had lots of fun. Now…well, he wasn’t so sure. Could that be considered fun? The dancing, the touching, the loud music, the screaming, his skin burning as some stranger pulled him away from the entire night… He didn’t want that again. At least not at the moment. He wasn’t sure if in the future he would be able to go those places again, experience the same euphoria he felt the after falling; but right now he would rather stay where no one could bother him.

He understood Levi a little better now. In his room…he could just be. No other soul to bother his solace, as he could keep digging deeper into those thought that slowly intoxicated and even suffocated him. The feelings of loneliness and that hatred that made its home into the demon’s mind, just kept growing as every day passes…no, ‘days’ was a large stretch, from the moment Asmodeus sat down to this very second, he already had sunk far deeper into the silent desperate pleas the unknown made to him. Asmodeus starred for a second more at Mammon before shaking his head, only for his sight to fall on the table, making his older brother frown. They were worried, and he had thought maybe coercing Asmodeus to go out would cheer him up a bit, it used to be his whole life after all. But now…it seemed like he had just made things worse.

“…I’m tired. I don’t want to leave the house.” He stated, getting up from the table, leaving his glass forgotten, Mammon merely frowned before sighing. There must be a way to make Asmodeus feel better, somehow. “Oh, and Mammon?” Once he looked up, he saw Asmodeus had stopped just in front of the door, his face still turned in the direction of the hallway, only for him to give Mammon a side look as he smiled for what could be the first time in a while. “…it’s you and I, not me and you.”

“…why you little-! If ya have enough energy to make fun of me then ya should use it elsewhere!”

Asmodeus let out a soft chuckle as he walked away from his brother, who had woken up Belphegor and was now facing the consequences of such a deed. Consequences… Was that it? Is that the reason why he was feeling so tormented? Why he no longer could stand the thought of someone setting their eyes upon him? Had he gone so long misbehaving in ways that utterly destroyed his mind and body, but he kept pushing them down on that thin layer of narcissism, and it had finally broken open…Was that it? Was he facing the consequences of all he had put himself through, of everything he forced himself to do? If so, then no wonder his body had started to tense up whenever a memory of a touch slipped his mind. The whisper of a name made him ache. And if the moments ever came to him in dreams, then all he could do was cry himself awake, in a position so still one might mistake him for a corpse, if not for the cries.

Like the one that happened that night. The memories, the cries, the phantom touches, it was all too real. But now, instead of feeling the intense desire he had felt those nights, it all felt like needles poking in his skin, making him regret his mere existence. He could feel the hair pull all too vividly, the bites so harsh he could have sworn if he touched the spot they would be there. He didn’t know when, but he had woken up at some point, and had noticed how his nails were the ones digging on his own skin to the point blood was pouring out. Yet he couldn’t move or do anything about it. All he could do, was keep crying. The nightmares were always like this, they incapacitated him, the only thing he had left, the control over his own body, over his own pain, was taken away. And all that was left was the sobbing mess of a demon. Who could only wonder how had he left himself fall even further.

The worst was…the doubting, the confusion, the wondering. The way no one could explain it to him, the fact that all they did was make him even more confused. Levi and Satan…they could have chosen to just keep quiet, to not answer his question, to ignore him! Belphegor could have kept walking, had he not come inside his room to make such a claim, a claim that now had him wondering and asking himself about everything. They should have just let him stay on that path he had already chosen! He had gotten used to being a demon, he had gotten used to all of it, if they had just kept quiet then he would be back to his normal self now, not caring about that stupid word and what it all meant! He wasn’t supposed to be anything else from just lust, he didn’t need anything else!

The next thing Asmodeus knew, he had barged into Mammon’s room, his older brother looking at him with a startled expression as he had not even bothered to knock. One half serious look at the younger demon’s face told Mammon all he needed to know. His brother wasn’t okay, and he was forcing himself to be. Perhaps it was the way the younger demon looked lost like he had looked that morning on the dining table, or maybe it was that look that screamed for some type of…of catalyst. Perhaps the same one they all expected to be coming soon. Was it now? Mammon could only stay silent as he starred at his brother, not knowing if he should talk or if he should wait for the demon to speak first. After all, he was the one that had barged in, and Mammon could only determine so much from his expression.

“…let’s go.”

“Huh? What-?”

“Let’s go! Now! Just like you said earlier! I changed my mind!” Asmodeus took a few steps towards Mammon, slamming the door behind him. His actions painting a frown on the avatar of greed as he watched his brother closely.

“…you changed your mind?” This was…wrong. Just a few hours ago Asmodeus was more than determined to NOT go out at all. Even to the point where the mere thought and the proposal made him retreat to his room like a scared animal looking for shelter in the middle of a storm.

Then again, perhaps that’s how Asmodeus felt. Like a lost animal who was passing right through the eye of the hurricane. The past few weeks had been the first stage, it was bad, it was bad because it had hit Asmodeus with no warning, it came and hit him with a force Asmodeus had not ever prepared for, stripping him from all the walls he had built around himself to protect the fragility that inhibited in the body of a weak and broken demon. The first stage had just passed. And right now, as Asmodeus glared at Mammon, wearing some party clothes and that pain he could still see in the eyes of his brother, Mammon knew the eye of the storm had just arrived. And with it, the calm…the calm that only announced the arrival of the worst to come. Faster winds that instead of stripping the poor demon from all what he was they were going to make him crumble.

“…no.” They had to be there for Asmo, and he knew this was the last thing Asmodeus needed. Asmodeus had said it before, and although he wasn’t aware what made him change his mind, he was right…He knew that now, and he was seeing just how badly Asmodeus wanted to deny it.

He wanted the Asmodeus they all knew back. The happy brother that was quick to compliment any of them and had no regards for personal space, the one that always had a smile…but that wasn’t Asmodeus. That’s a veil he had put on that was being kept on from the moment he crafted that personality to merely weeks ago, the one who was standing right now in front of him, was not Asmodeus either. It was the shreds from that veil trying to get back to that balance that he had managed to escape from. The real Asmodeus…no one knew him. Not even the demon standing right in front of Mammon. The demon needed to know who he was and understand whatever it was bothering him before he should be allowed to go back out there. And as much as Mammon wanted to keep the peace and wanted his brother to be okay, it would be nothing but cruel, submitting him to the very thing that had broken him in the very first place.

“…no?” Asmodeus blinked. “Seriously? You are saying no now?! Mammon, I know you like being annoying, but this is going too far!” Asmodeus stomped his feet, he felt like a child throwing a tantrum, almost as if he wasn’t in control of his own words. But here he was, glaring at his older brother as he crossed his arms and glared. How dare he act like he knew what was going on in Asmodeus head and what he needed? What he needed was to go back to who he was and stop with those feelings that had taken root in his being.

“Oi! I’m only trying to help here! I ain’t taking ya there, aight?! I thought it might have helped earlier but giving how you are now I doubt so! Someone could do something to you and you wouldn’t even know what is happening-”

“That’s the point!” Asmodeus shouted, glaring at Mammon worse than before. “That is exactly what I want! What I need! I want to just forget everything and go back to how I was before! I just need to stop all those insane thoughts and go back to the care of the world! S-So! D-Don’t tell me no now!”

“Asmo…listen to me now.” Mammon walked closer to his agitated brother, noticing how desperate and how hurt the younger demon was. It hurt all of them seeing him like this, but if he went out now, as Asmodeus wanted, or as he thought he wanted, it would only make it worse “…what you need, ya ain’t gonna find in a club or anything.”

“Then what is it that I need, then?! If it isn’t to try and go back to my old life…if it isn’t forgetting everything that just happened and try to be who I am supposed to be, then what do I need? What should I do? I am tired of feeling so bad, I don’t want to care about anything else! I just want to go back and forget all of those new feelings! All that Levi and Satan said! I don’t understand it, and the more I try to understand it the less I do! I just want to go back out there, and maybe, just maybe, finally be okay once more.”

Mammon starred at his brother as the pleas and begs left him, eyes closed tightly as the Avatar of Lust held back the tears. It was all wrong, seeing him like this, this desperation rooted inside of him as he didn’t give himself time to think about everything, to think about himself! But…he kind of understood Asmodeus. Back when they all arrived, when they were all scared and didn’t understand anything about themselves, he was so confused and scared of those new desires of his, but he took time to understand them. Asmodeus hadn’t, the moment he recuperated from the fall it was like the angel they had all known once had vanished. But right now, although broken and sad and utterly desperate…he was asking for help, and Mammon was going to be right there for him. Slowly, the demon walked over to his brother, and before Asmodeus could even ask anything else, he was engulfed in a tight hug.

“…Listen, there is lots of stuff that I don’t know, that’s a given, and there are even more that I don’t understand, but I know how you are feeling…how lost you feel. But Asmo, what you need, isn’t out there.”

Asmodeus hesitated, not daring to hug his brother back as he held back tears, hiding his face on the demons neck for a moment. Shaky breaths that Mammon could feel as he hugged him even tighter, hoping that it just might help to keep him together long enough until he was ready to rebuild himself. But the way his younger brother hand suddenly grasped at his shirt, and the way his trembling voice came out…he knew that no matter how tightly he held him, the demon was already crumbling.

“…I s-still don’t understand. I don’t know…I don’t know what I need…” Mammon chuckled a little sadly as he kissed Asmodeus forehead, pulling away and grabbing him by the shoulders.

“Oi, that of course is for someone to truly care about ya. Asmo, ya don’t need people to constantly praise you or to pull you away from the world. You need someone that cares so deeply for you, they are willing to make you happy, someone…someone that understands you, someone that truly **** you”

…again with that word. Asmodeus couldn’t do anything but stare at Mammon for a few seconds, before the dam broke, and the water started spilling from his eyes like nothing could stop it. One would think he had not cried in years by the way he was now sobbing and clinging to his brother. With Levi it was one thing, as well as with Satan, and now with Mammon. They had mentioned such different thing, unique sentiments, yet they had used the exact same word. Was it…that perhaps it was all of those at once? But at the same time neither? And if so, how could Asmo tell which was that he truly needed? Asmo said it was for someone to understand him, but he wasn’t so sure. How could someone else understand him when he couldn’t even understand himself?

“…that’s the exact opposite of what Satan said!” Asmodeus exclaimed, he refused to believe that there could be so many aspects to it all.

“W-well…that’s because he is an idiot, aight?! Just listen to me, I am your bug brother, after all.” Mammon sighed, still embracing Asmodeus. “…Asmo, I know its hard to understand, but you don’t need someone to pass the night with, okay? Its…different, you don’t need something that can vanish and its just superficial. Its meant to be deep and last, and they are supposed to make you feel the best anyone has ever!”

Understanding, playfulness, friendship…all or none, maybe a mix? No…none of them felt quite right. But…what felt right was the fact that he could cry feeling in his brothers arms, just like he had done so a while ago when Belphegor found him. Even if he hated showing anyone this side of his, and even thought his entire being was in a total disarray of concepts and all, it felt right. And he wondered if this was yet another definition for that word. One rooted in the comings of the broken family they were.

Pragma: Commitment, compromise, understanding, long term rooted love. Eros can turn to Pragma with time.

Hello! Here is the next chapter in this little fic of mine! I truly hope you all had enjoyed it even though I think that this one turned out a little different than the last few. But either way, i will once more post the next chapter on Saturday, until then!

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princessjungeun · 4 years

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Sick Days: Little! Yiren & CG! Aisha

Request: little!yiren and cg!aisha during sick days

Cw: crying

Heads up...this is long. Once again this is sfw age regression, it is not meant to be sexualized in any way, shape, or form. I don’t think I should have to put this but people on this app surprise me everyday. Please keep that in mind. But basically i’m just saying don’t be a creep :)

This is also my first time writing age regression so tell me if it’s something i should keep on my list of acceptable requests. If you hate it tell me so i’m not posting trash work pls 🥺

Today was just like any other day for Everglow, practice, practice, lunch, group conditioning, practice, and more conditioning. After Dun Dun promotions ended there was no breaks like there used to be, which was overwhelming for the group as a whole but specifically for Yiren.

Yiren usually handles her stress well, talking to her managers and staff when she needs help, calling her parents at night helps too. But sometimes when it becomes too much she regresses and as much as she hates it, it's inevitable. Today was one of those days.

“Ok guys let's run it one more time!" Jiwon instructed from the front of the practice room. The girls had been practicing since 8 am and it was now 6 pm, they were all exhausted especially Yiren. Her eyes burned when sweat dripped into them, blurring her vision. Her knees were bruised from dancing on the ground all day. Her muscles ached and her abdominals were on fire. She just wanted to go home, take a shower, and curl into Yoorim's arms.

In addition to this she had been trying to get over what she considered a cold for about a week. It progressively got worse but she didn’t think much of it, as this usually happened. It usually started out normal, got worse, then ended just like that.

But this was now becoming too much. She felt sick, her whole body ached and it was hard to breathe because of it. “Yiren-ah are you ok?" Mia poked the maknae in the side playfully. That was all it took for the Chinese girl to fall apart onto the floor.

Yiren collapsed into a ball and wailed loudly, Onda and Sihyeon stopped their side conversation immediately. Jiwon asked “what did you do? Eunji-ahhhh!” Mia responded “i’m sorry I didn’t know she’d start crying!”

The leader crouched next to the crying girl and asked “Yiren? Can you tell me what’s wrong?” I’m between sobs she choked out what sounded like Mandarin because it definitely wasn’t Korean. Jiwon’s eyes widened at the realization and looked around the room for Aisha.

“Where is Yoorim?” Jiwon asked her other members with a twinge of panic. Onda responded “I think she went to refill her water bottle downstairs.” Jiwon replied “ok um...we’re done for the day. Go back to the dorm. But in your way out tell Aisha I need her up here...Quickly please!” With that the three girls ran out of the practice room.

Jiwon turned back to the girl on the floor and crouched down next to her trying to get her to stop crying but it was no use. Aisha walked back in the room "why did you send them back ear-” The taller girl ran over and sat on the floor next to the little.

“Yiren-nie. Can you tell me what’s wrong?” Aisha spoke softly trying her best not to overwhelm her. It was no luck though. Yiren wailed louder on the floor babbling incoherent Mandarin while choking on her tears. Jiwon responded from her spot on the floor "she's been really stressed recently, I think our schedule has been too much for her. And I think she’s still sick.” Aisha nodded and took a seat on the floor next to the crying girl.

"Yiren-nie look at me please." Aisha cooed to the smaller girl. The sobs slowly subsided as the little crawled into her caregiver’s arms. "What's wrong baby?" Aisha softly asked as Yiren responded in what seemed to be a mix of Mandarin and Korean "I don’t feel well.” The little’s tears once again started pouring down her cheeks.

Aisha passed Yiren to Jiwon quickly so she could get off the floor, once she was standing she placed the little on her hip and swayed lightly. This was a trick Aisha learned fairly early on that would ease Yiren enough so she could think of what to do next.

“You said she’s still sick right?” Aisha asked her leader. Jiwon nodded and said “yeah, it’s been like a week and a half almost. She was saying earlier she was having trouble breathing and she had that nasty cough last night.” Aisha looked at her unnie with fear in her eyes “you don’t think...?” Jiwon responded “I mean the second wave of it is still here. And she’s definitely forgotten a mask a few times.”

Aisha felt her heart drop but also simultaneously speed up. “O-Ok. Um ok. Can you call our manager, I’ll have them drive us to the hospital. We’ll both get tested there and you all can go tomorrow morning.” Jiwon nodded and went to call their manager while Aisha tried her best to soothe Yiren.

After ten minutes of swaying, walking, and bouncing Yiren around on her hip, Aisha was finally able to soothe the little. Jiwon checked her phone “ok our manager is downstairs, do you want me to come with you or head back to the dorm?” Aisha responded “it’s ok, you head back and can you explain to the other girls what’s going on...they don’t really know about this.”

It was no secret that Yiren regressed, but it also kind of was. Yiren was able to have enough control of her regression to only slip into this headspace around Aisha and Jiwon. Her other members knew something happened but they simply didn’t think of it that much.

Aisha pulled her sweatshirt over Yiren’s head and put the hood on as well. She gave the little a mask before guiding her head into the crook of her neck. At times like this Aisha was very grateful for so few people being in the Yuehua building. Even then, people throughout knew Aisha and Yiren had a close relationship. So even if someone did see Aisha carrying Yiren, it probably wouldn’t be a big deal.

The staff that was waiting was Yiren’s favorite manager. They remained quiet throughout the car ride enjoying the white noise the A/C gave off. It took longer than expected to get to the hospital that was offering the test Yiren needed. But Aisha realized there would be a very big problem in a few short minutes.

While some tests for the virus were done through swabbing the mouth, this hospital didn’t offer that one. This test involved a long stick that had to be shoved up your nose all the way back. Aisha knew she’d be fine with it but Yiren was another story, regressed or not.

Due to the potential of Yiren having the virus, a nurse came to the car in a white hazmat suit to do the test. Yiren wasn’t exactly fond of that either as when she’s regressed she only wants to be around those she knows and trusts.

Aisha decided she’d go first, maybe it would calm Yiren enough if she saw how her caregiver did it well. The nurse stuck the probe up Aisha’s nose and she did her best to not swear at her because to be honest she was being a little aggressive.

When the nurse went to the other side of the car Aisha knew she’d have to hold Yiren down and she was already regretting it. Her manager rolled the window down and the nurse went to stick the probe up Yiren’s nose.

It was at this moment Yiren realized this was not something she was ok with. Before she could swat away the nurse’s hand, she felt someone holding her down. Aisha with almost all her strength held Yiren’s hands down as the little screamed in panic. The nurse had to hold Yiren’s head in place as well, only adding to Yiren’s discomfort.

Aisha hated doing this and hearing Yiren scream stop over and over again wasn’t helping. She felt tears burn her eyes as she saw Yiren’s face get more red with every shriek. Aisha tried her best to not cave as she held her wrists down, her hands trembling. “I’m sorry baby, I’m sorry.” Aisha continuously told Yiren hoping she’d listen.

The second the nurse pulled it out of Yiren’s nose Aisha felt a wave of relief. “Your results will be given via phone call in 36 hours.” The nurse told Aisha and her manager. They both thanked her before rolling up the window and driving off.

Yiren’s tears continued to pour down her face, however her wailing subsided. Aisha tried to reach out for Yiren but the second her hands touched her, the little shrieked in fear. Aisha felt her heart break and she immediately texted Jiwon that Yiren would need to sleep with her tonight.

When they returned to the dorm, Jiwon was there, ready to pick Yiren up and take her to bed. Aisha thanked her manager and walked upstairs sadly, trying her best to hold back tears.

Aisha didn’t bother to see if Jiwon needed help with bathing Yiren or putting her to sleep. She knew Yiren would only starting kicking and screaming again.

Mia walked in her room and sat down next to Aisha who was trying her best to stop crying out of guilt. “Yoorim-ah, what’s wrong?” That was all it took for Aisha to fall apart in her unnies arms.

“We got tested but it was the one they stick up your nose. A-and I had to hold her down and it took so long because she kept moving. And she kept begging me to stop but I couldn’t or else she’d have to go through it again. And she hates me now- and I feel so bad.” Mia patted Aisha’s shoulder and said “It’ll be fine Yoorim-ah, you did what you had to do. I- just trust me she just needs a good nights sleep.” Mia hugged her before padding out of her room.

•

48 hours passed and Aisha anxiously awaited their test results. Her other members got tested as well but they’d find out the same time. In this time she at all costs avoided Yiren knowing the little probably hated her still.

When the phone rang she sprinted to answer it. She felt a weight lift off her chest when she heard they all tested negative. She went ahead and texted the group chat because she knew if she were to walk where they all were, she’d have to face Yiren.

She got a text back saying Yiren needed her nap and she wanted to sleep in her bed. Aisha couldn’t deny the little of her own bed, after all it was hers.

The door opened slowly and Yiren waddled in, thumb in her mouth. “S-Sha?” Aisha felt her heart melt and all she did was hold her arms out for Yiren to crawl into.

The little curled into her caregivers arms and Aisha said “baby i’m so sorry for what I did. I’m sorry.” Yiren turned around so she was facing her and curled closer into Aisha. Her fingers wrapped tightly around Aisha’s shirt, as if she was afraid to let go. Aisha kissed the little’s forehead and said softly “I love you baby”.

#kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #everglow imagines #everglow scenarios #everglow yiren #everglow aisha #everglow e:u #everglow #everglow eunji #everglow sihyeon #everglow onda #everglow reactions

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black-kitten-imagines · 4 years

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Still Standing ~ Tincke x reader

Picture not mine

Word count: 2,147

Warnings: mentions of violence

Summary: Reader wants to join Jan and Tincke on an ambush but they don’t allow it.

A/N: I saw Thieves of the Wood earlier this year and just immediately fell in love with it, with the characters, the setting, everything.

“Come on, Tincke. Please, let me join you!”, I begged desperately. “I’m sorry (Y/n), you’re staying here, at camp”, said the red haired man in front of me with insistence in his voice. “Why can’t I come? You never let me join you.”

For the last few days Jan and Tincke had been planning an ambush on a carriage full of valuables and today was the day that they were going to implement that plan. Many of the men from the camp were going and I wanted to be part of it as well.

“You’re a woman. It’s too dangerous!”, Tincke answered me. This answer made my blood boil. “De Schoen is also a woman and you have no problem with her coming along! And just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I can’t take care of myself!”, I yelled at him angrily.

My hands turned to fists around the worn fabric of my old skirts, preventing me from striking him in anger. Having lived with the others, banished in this forest camp for multiple months now I had gotten used to audacious remarks like his, but never before had I heard any from him.

Tincke had always shown respect towards me. Furthermore he was the one who taught me how to protect myself both with daggers and the pistol, so he knew that I could actually protect myself - although I was a woman and women weren’t suited to know their way around weapons as was decided by men, probably just because they were scared what we could do if we did actually know our way around swords and daggers.

“She knows the risks”, was his calm but infuriating reply. Although he seemed to keep a level head I could see it in his eyes that I was slowly getting to him. Tincke knew raising his voice and causing a scene might cost him his reputation of a mostly dependable leader and the respect of the others.

“I know the risks too, I know I could die in this attack, see I’m not as naive as you think I am!” Tincke mumbled something under his breath that sounded a lot like ‘oh, I know you’re not naive at all’, but I decided to ignore him in order to continue my rant, “So why can’t I actually come along? All I ever do is sit here in this camp and wait for you to return. I want to help. Please!”

“No! You will not accompany us. You will stay here. End of discussion!”, and with those words he walked off towards Jan, leaving me standing in front of ‘Der Hunger’, seething in anger.

I was going to join them on the ambush no matter what Tincke said. Whether he allowed it or not, I was going to be part of the action. At that very moment I didn’t care about any repercussions in any which way.

Already having a plan in mind, I stomped off into the direction of the tent I was staying in, but before I reached it I took a turn, doing a small detour around the camp, towards the hut in which I knew I could find an extra set of somewhat clean men’s clothing - a rarity in a place like this.

Trying to seem unsuspicious I stopped to chat with some people here and there. Taking one last look over my shoulder, I quietly slipped into the hut pulling the makeshift canvas doors shut behind me. Inside I quickly found a bundle of dry clothing, stored alongside a few other trivial items in a simple oak trunk.

Having in mind that Tincke, Jan and the others would depart very soon I swiftly shed my garments and rolled them into a more or less neat bundle, putting it in that very same trunk. Then without losing any time I slipped into the new clothes - first the dark brown, worn out pants, then a slightly cream coloured, wide and flowy shirt. Last but not least I pulled an old, tattered, dark wool coat over my shoulders.

The final touches were a dark blue scarf that I tied around my neck and an old hat that I had nicked from a man napping on a log next to the big, open, central fire pit. The fire pit was the centre of our community.

So many drunk nights with friends had been spent here, so many nights had been spent here celebrating, so many of Vagenende’s prophecies had been told here.

The warmth of the fire and the ale gave us courage and hope in our dire situation.

Before I left I made sure the pistol in my belt was loaded.

As I stepped out of the tent I pulled the scarf over the bottom half of my face, hoping no one would recognize me.

The cluster of men had already started to break apart when I reached the place where they had gathered in front of our small, little tavern. Keeping to the back of the group and out of the sight of Tincke, Jan and anyone else I knew too closely for them to recognize me, I followed them towards the main road through this part of the forest.

My head was spinning with thoughts and feelings. I was starting to regret my rash decision. My heart was beating with nervosity and fear. Tincke’s words reverberated in my mind. Maybe I should turn back. What if he was right? What if I was naive and helpless? What if I had no idea how much trouble I was getting into?

But coming back from my trance I saw the somber faces of the men around me. I couldn’t run back to the camp and hide. It was too late to do so, I was one of them now and I was not going to bail on them. They needed every help they could get. So I shook my thoughts away and swallowed my fears. I was ready for whatever came our way. I would gladly lay down my life for this group of men, these men who had saved me from starvation and hypothermia, if necessary.

We were concealed through some bushes and the verge along the dirt road, waiting for the signal. After what felt like an eternity of waiting, crouching behind some shrubs and greenery, my ears finally picked up on the faint sound of horses hooves in the distance.

Looking around I saw that I wasn’t the only one who noticed, most of the banished tightening their grip on their pistols or daggers hanging from their belts. The sound grew louder and louder and soon enough we could see the top of the carriage move through the trees, the roof packed with trunks.

Now my heart started racing again, but this time not out of fear but out of anticipation. Adrenaline rushing through my veins. I couldn’t wait for all this to go down.

Suddenly the coach rolled to a stop. My breathing hitched in excitement. The door was pushed open and a red haired girl stumbled out and fell to the ground. I recognized her, she was one of the working girls at ‘The Yellow Prick’, Tincke’s ‘favourite one’ as I once overheard him say.

A pang of jealousy and hurt filled my heart, remembering the times I had gone looking for the red haired leader at the brothel and having found him and her sharing an intimate moment.

But enough of that! I pushed my feelings aside and observed the events in front of me.

A man in uniform and a little boy, who I also recognized, had followed her out of the carriage. From my vantage point I could see two more men inside the vehicle, both dressed in elegant, noble garments and wearing wigs. All of them were accompanied by at least two or three guards.

But just as the Bailiff bent down to check on the girl, she sprung up and started running into the woods. This was not at all what I had expected to happen, but obviously this was the sign we had been waiting for, for the other men around me charged, shouting with arms raised. I sprang to my feet and slid down the slope.

The ambush was in full swing and so far there were no injured. I tried to help where I could. Some of the men had started pulling the wooden and leather trunks from the roof of the coach, some were busy unarming the passengers and the few guards that accompanied the travellers. The Bailiff must’ve fled at some point for he was nowhere to be seen. What a coward!

I was currently busy helping two men lift one of the trunks, when I heard a faint but suspicious ‘clink’. Looking around I spied another guard that had gone unseen, standing in the shadow of a tree to the front of the coach. The man in blue and red uniform had just returned his ramrod from the barrel when he raised his musket, ready to fire.

Time seemed to slow as I turned around to see who was in his line of fire - Tincke.

He was standing with his back facing the guard talking to one of the other men, not noticing the weapon pointed at him. It seemed like no one except for me had noticed the opponent.

For a second everything froze. My heart jumped in fear.

No, I couldn’t let him die. Tincke wasn’t supposed to die, these people needed him. I needed him, I realized.

Without thinking any further I dropped the handles of the trunk I was holding and started sprinting with all my might. I couldn’t be too slow. I couldn’t fail. I would never forgive myself if I did.

I would risk my life for him. I would give everything for him. If he died it would most likely be the end of the banished. If I died it would only be one hungry mouth less.

I was expecting the impact and welcomed it happily. I felt the soft fur on my hands and his red locks tickling my neck as I shoved him.

The suddenness and force of the impact surprised him and toppled him off of his feet causing him to end up on the floor a few paces away from me. I slid to a stop where he was standing before. Then time seemed to restore to its former pace and everything went so fast I couldn’t quite comprehend it.

BANG!

- the loud shot of a gun in the now otherwise silent forest, even the birds seemed to stop singing their tunes and all eyes were on me.

The uniformed man standing across from me crumpled down to the floor, a huge patch of red blood spreading over the spot where his heart was.

Without even noticing, I had pulled and fired my pistol just in time to prevent him at his own shot, for I still stood there arm raised, some smoke still coming out of the barrel.

I did it, I saved Tincke. A smile spread across my face.

Suddenly I felt a sharp pain searing through my body then gathering in my abdomen, causing me to crumple up and immediately fall to my knees.

From somewhere behind me I heard a gasp but I couldn’t place who it might’ve been from.

Only half aware of my surroundings I looked down at myself shocked and saw deep red spreading and staining my light linen shirt. I couldn't wrap my mind around what was happening. My brain seemed to be stuffed with cotton.

I carefully lifted my empty hand to the red stain. Removing my hand again, surprise filled me at the blood on my fingers.

Blood, my blood - I was dying, but this realization didn’t fill me with fear as I would’ve expected. A strange calm flooded through my body. As my body went limp and I slowly fell backwards only one thought crossed my mind, ‘I saved him.’

I didn’t hit the hard, cold, dirty forest floor but landed on something soft. Then Tincke’s face appeared above me. At the sight of him my lips turned upwards into a small smile.

His face was distorted in terror and shock. His beautiful grey eyes were filled with fear and as he cupped my face in his rough hands tears started to roll down his cheeks.

Tincke’s soft lips were moving as he tried to tell me something, but I couldn’t hear a word he said - everything had gone silent. And as my peripheral vision started to grow dark the only thought I could think of was how happy I was to have been able to see Tincke one last time, that his handsome face was the last thing I saw on this earth.

Then everything went black.

#thieves of the wood #tincke #jan de lichte #de bende van jan de lichte #tincke x reader #netflix #x reader #x reader fanfiction #imagine #history #historical fiction #fanfiction #thieves of the wood fanfiction

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translator-chan · 3 years

Text

3rd person pov:

There is nobody on the rooftop of this school, it was the most isolated part of this school.

Minjoo Cha walked to the edge of the rooftop and closed her eyes. Sweaty clothes were sticking to her back while she was climbing the stairs. The hem sticks to her back as she grunts in frustration. The hot sunlight shines your eyes as always making your eyes sting. The woman wore an angelic face as if it contained all the loveliness of this world. Whenever she was shy, her cheeks will be painted in a red hue, and her long and fluttering eyelashes all went well along with her facial features. Of course, that face didn't look lovely to Minjoo.

Cha Minjoo pov:

Bang!

I heard the door being slammed open behind my back. I went up the stairs in a hurry as I heard the sound of breath also catch up."Hey, Minjoo Cha!" I looked back at the calling voice. I saw a face that was hated so that my teeth were gritting. "Min-Ju, wait!" The woman who was following me found climbing up the staircase hard as she breathed rather hardly. I began to tremble with a pale face. The lips that call my name are red and thick. "Are you really trying to jump off the school building(aka suicide)? Or did you just send a letter to surprise me?" The woman took the letter out of her arms and held it.

3rd person pov:

It was a letter left like a will. The face of the woman who was evil while she held the letter slightly with her index finger and thumb as if holding a dirty object.

"Do you think I'm scared of you doing this?" "Lee Soo-Yeon."The democratic name was low. Soo-Yeon shook her shoulder. She turned away from all her evil deeds and fell into self-pity. The anger crouched deep in the stomach as it wriggled its way in dynamically.

The resentful heart which bore resentment soon becomes anger.

Anyway, there was no one besides democracy(a law I guess?). Minjoo had no parents to protect and friends to protect her."Do I need to live by grinding my teeth? 'Can we happily dream of the future as long as we pass this period safely?'

Minjoo shook her head while asking herself a question. "You know, I thought that way too."

But now Minjoo did not have the confidence to continue live.

Cha Minjoo Pov:

There was no regret to follow this ditch-like life. If life is a novel, I wanted to complete this book and leave for the next story. If God existed, I hoped to do live another life once more. "If I was born again, I want to be born in the same world like you, and ask that you live and eat in the same place as me." Every time she connected, Soo-Yeon trembled less. Minjoo smiles and hopes so much that she could take her revenge in her next life. I whispered an oath I didn't have. "So I can take revenge on you." The wall touching my back was very low hence it was an easy height to jump down. Suyeon face turned pale as if she noticed it "wait!Wait!"

"Soo-Yeon, listen carefully. Now, remember this moment. Never forget it. I shall wait for the day where you will definitely pay for everything you did to me."

"Even if you live, I hope you die miserably."

With the last curse, Minjoo took off her last ounce of control of her body and collapsed quickly so as not to make any mistake. You have to smash your head first you will definitely die.

What was unexpected was Lee Soo-Yeon's behavior.

" No! "I thought she would laugh as usual, but she ran away with her teeth clenched and grabbed my hand. I wonder if she is afraid of dying herself."Let go of my hand!"She completely leaned against the wall as I was trying to shake her hand off with all the strength I had. Unfortunately, Lee Soo-Yeon doesn't have the strength to stop her but she still held in her arms causing them to fall off the building together. While falling together, Lee Soo-Yeon's scream did not disappear from her ear. After that all was blank. Dahlia's body started suffering from intense heat and air pressure. Just before she opened his eyes in, what she wondered was what Cha Min-kyu had suffered.

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

Evil woman.

It is a word that refers to a woman with a bad temper.

And Dahlia Margaret, the first daughter of the Count Margaret family, was a wicked woman who was said to be the innermost woman in the empire.

Beautiful appearance, cold atmosphere, vicious personality.

Everyone in the empire was afraid of her.

That was the fame of Dahlia Margaret that Cha Min-Joo knew.

"Madam, can I help?"

The maid who came in drove in politely drew her head.

" Okay ."

Dahlia responded nicely and kept her expression as cool as possible.

If I'm staying quiet as if I'm dead, or if I have a careless attitude,

It was.

When I lived as a second democracy in Korea, I always lived like that.

'If the whole earth is rumored to be a vicious and wicked woman, how much evil do you have to commit?'

But now it was a world in a novel.

Besides, the world is in a novel she had read before she died!

'Should I say that I'm glad I've read the contents of the book?'

Dahlia touched her fingernails hiding her impatience.

When I first opened my eyes in this world,

I thought I couldn't die badly and had a seizure.

There were many people wearing strange clothes around, so I was surprised to make more sauce.

"Dahlia!Dahlia, my daughter! Are you okay?"

'Who, who....... Who are you? Your father, Dahlia!"

But when a man named father came and we had some conversations, I could quickly find out where who this was about.

Floret. Was born to be loved> '.

As you can feel from the title, the main of the novel.

Dalia turned to the sound of someone knocking on the door.

The maid who finished the dressing also stepped back one step.

It was an old butler who appeared from the open door.

"Lady, the Count is waiting for you, and I will guide you to the parlor when you are ready.

"All right so stay out."

Dahlia deliberately threw a chilly answer.

Read as much as she can build

There was also a lovely face.

" Yeah?

However, the butler looked surprised.

Dahlia kicked her tongue because she wanted everything upset.

' What?

Should I have thrown that candlestick?

You must have done something bad to know!

This was the biggest challenge currently given to Dahlia.

Dahlia Margaret was the best beauty and evil woman in the empire, but Cha Min-jung was not a bad woman.

She was just a high school student who devoted herself to her studies in a normal and modest manner. I couldn't regret that I didn't see one of the common weekend dramas because I was focusing on my studies.

If I had watched the last drama, I would have been able to see how badly to do it in this situation.

All that was bad behavior for her, at best, was to raise her eyes or scream.

"My, can't you hear me? Get out!"

Dahlia, whose face was half-blushed, squeezed her voice hard.

"Oh, okay, sorry, baby Seed."

The butler hurriedly closed the door and went out.

Even after being left alone in the hallway, confusion continued.

'It is true that the rumor that the lady has become weird!

Even when he was five years old, he couldn't stand it without throwing things.

The butler groped his forehead with a depressed face.

There was still a scar from Dahlia torn by a candlestick threw when she was five years old for knocking on the door while taking a nap.

It was unbelievable that a young lady who had a high snot on her back with the prestige of the Count's family suddenly became so gentle.

Besides, on a day when an unwanted sister came in, like today, you would have been expected to run wild more.........

The butler trembled lightly, imagining what was going to happen soon.

Dahlia, after finishing the dressing, finally calmed her mind and went out into the hall.

The butler standing quietly in the corridor found her and came straight to her.

'I was a little annoyed earlier, but...

...

Dahlia hesitantly looked at the butler's face.

The feeling of guilt increased when I saw his gray hair and a forehead full of wrinkles as if proving his old age.

'am I being a little different from the original?

These aren't big trunks.

In the end, Dali, who could not overcome the guilt, whispered little to the butler.

" there ...

...

Couldn't finishing the sentence as I couldn't remember what the butler's name was.

"Yes, lady, do you have anything to order?"

The old butler quickly noticed and looked deeply.

It was an attitude that he was used to instructing like this.

"Before I... shouted ....... "

What should I apologize for?

How can I properly relieve the guilt of the villain without having a big crack on her reputation?

" ... sorry . "

" Yes ?

Dahlia, whispering with a new red face, quickly escaped.

The left butler froze with a face that seemed to pop out of her eyes in shock and looked only at her empty spot.

Dahlia Margaret is apologizing!

While working for the Count, he

never received an apology from the people of the Countess family.

But the first apology, no other way, I hear from Miss Dali.

'Madam, I...

...

I will never forget this day!

He trembled with excitement by himself, and ran after Dahlia, who had run away late.

That was why I remembered that I had to guide her to the parlor.

Dahlia recklessly ran the hallway.

The moment I apologized, I saw the frozen man's face and couldn't stay there.

In the novel, I just said that the evil deed was severe, but I didn't know it well, but I still couldn't get a sense of how much it was.

"Oh, huh.

Dahlia took a quick breath and entered any room.

The scent of old wood and books.

It Took her nerves to enter.

She put her hands on her rising and falling chest and raised her head.

"Is this... the library?" "

The densely packed library greeted Dahlia.

There was a chair in the distance by the window.

She tumbled back and sat down on the chair.

"Ha...."

A month has passed since I have been in this body.

It was a way to get used to it, but the attitude of the servants who were surprised no matter what they did was a surprise.

"You have to do bad things to know, I know."

Dahlia briefly recalled her previous life.

I remember when I was used to being bad, but I wasn't used to doing it.

'Would I be okay if I act like Lee Soo-yeon?

When I think of a woman from a previous life who continued a damn bad relationship, I feel somberly lost .

It was the moment when I became dissatisfied with the body I entered again.

'Hope...

...

Unlucky enough to enter Dahlia body out of many and many characters.

The evil woman who dies terribly.

I would have lived a new life at all if it had been just the beginning with no role.

The world did not change no matter how much resentment was expressed.

Even when I opened my eyes to pray, there was still a woman with silver hair and violet eyes standing in the mirror.

Fortunately, I was a reader who had read this novel until the end of the story.

"If you keep talking in moderation and fall out, I can save your life, right?

Dahlia had no intention of appearing on stage.

Because, the moment she becomes a character, she knows well that the stage will lead her to death.

Unlike Floret, Dahlia wasn't the main character, but was only the enemy of the main character.

"Dahlia!"

At that time, a thick voice hit my ear

All.

Dahlias get upset

Raised.

Someone pops open the door and thumps

And moved.

Her father, Videl Margaret Bag

#novel #korean #korean novel #translator #discord server #female #evil dead

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flameofchaos · 4 years

Text

Whispers in the Dark - The Slayers fanfic

Warnings: blood, and I think xellos himself is a warning. Everything he does or says is disturbing. What do you expect from a demon? ^_^”

Like always THANK YOU to my dear Beta: @naiokiara

Chapter 4

“I’m soooo hungry, Lina!” complained Gourry for the third time within an hour, traipsing behind the sorceress.

“I knooooow!” she howled almost like a wounded wolf. “Me too! My stomach is so empty it will consume the rest of my guts soon.”

“I caught a small lizard. We can roast it when we stop to rest,” Zelgadis sighed deeply. Although his chimeric body was much stronger than his comrades’, he also felt uncomfortable. They haven’t eaten anything since the previous morning.

“When we stop to rest I’m going to roast a much bigger, golden lizard!” hissed Lina, crushing the blond girl with her chestnut-brown eyes.

“Miss Lina, it’s not very kind to call Miss Filia a lizard,” noted Amelia faintly, knowing it was unhealthy and unsafe to talk to the witch when she was starving.

The dragoness gritted her teeth. “In the evening we should be in another town. Stop complaining, already! How will you save the world if you can’t stand such a small inconvenience?”

Only the fact that Lina had to save her energy stopped her from throwing a Fireball right into the proud priestess who walked in front of her.

The red-haired sorceress had been in a bad mood since the previous evening. It’s not like she’d slept badly. Actually, the nap on the demon’s chest was very comfortable. Too comfortable. But Xellos making fun of her… Lina licked her lips again, but she still couldn’t get rid of the Mazoku’s flavour. Probably it wasn’t on her tongue anymore, but somehow it affected her mind. She couldn’t stop thinking about his stupid joke. He kissed her! No, it wasn’t a kiss, right? He just licked her tongue. Gross! So why had this awful act made her feel so strange between her thighs?

Gods, she will go insane with those demons and dragons.

Xellos had awakened her after midnight with a whisper that it was time for Zelgadis’ watch and then melted into darkness. Lina, sleepy and suddenly alone, had felt with double strength the cold wind all around. She had awakened the shaman, added to the fire some twigs from completely dry bushes growing near, and laid next to Gourry near the campfire. The blond warrior had been in deep sleep while the sorceress observed him with ambivalent feelings. He had breathed loudly, his strong chest moving up and down. The silent snoring had buzzed in Lina’s ears, somehow calming her. They had travelled together for so long, it was almost impossible for the sorceress to even imagine it would ever change. When once she had asked the swordsman how long he was going to be her protector, she had surprised him with her question. “For the rest of my life?” He had answered without hesitation.

He was a good man. Too good for someone so wild as Lina. He deserved someone delicate and pure like himself, like that priestess from Sairaag City, Sylphiel. She had always been in love with Gourry and only Lina’s presence by his side was an issue.

The sorceress had smiled and shifted a blond lock away from Gourry’s face with a fond gesture. What should she do with him? What does she feel for him? Her heart was filled with warmth for the warrior… but the other man had just made it drum like crazy this evening. Why would she even think about Xellos that way? She didn’t want to! It wasn’t her fault the demon knew exactly which string to pull to sneak into her thoughts. He was an evil magical creature, not a human! Technically he wasn’t even alive. Nothing had happened. He had teased her, had his fun, and probably made a fat supper of her emotions. That’s all. She would behave like there were no embarrassing intimate acts between them. Because there weren’t, right? A foot massage, mental bonding (it could be considered a magic ritual), some friendly reminiscing, and fooling around with those kisses, only to make her feel uncomfortable. Typical for Xellos. But even in the morning, Lina still couldn’t stop thinking about that. Better for her to buck up, otherwise that bastard would easily notice how his mischief had worked and continue with it.

“We have to talk, Miss Lina.” Filia slowed down so the other girl found herself by her side.

“About the fact we will die in this desert without water and food before anyone decides to destroy this world?”

“About Xellos.”

Great. She needed distraction from him, not to focus on him.

“From the moment he appeared he has treated you all as good friends. I insist that we must abandon his companionship! It is an offence to us, especially me, as a priestess of light, to spend even a second in his filthy presence.”

Lina rolled her eyes.

“And what should I do? He doesn’t react to a “Shooo!” command. He does what he wants. So long it isn’t us dripping all in red, I am fine with his company.”

“But he is a Mazoku!” Filia stopped in front of Lina to embolden the words. “What if he betrays us?”

Lina smiled sourly.

“My dear Filia, the question isn’t if he betrays us, but WHEN he betrays us.”

“And you say it so calmly?” At her emotions, Filia’s long tail slipped out from under her skirt.

“Can I do anything about that fact? No. Can I tell Xellos to leave us alone? Yes, but he’ll ignore it. If we piss him off, we will have against us not only Valgaav, but also the fourth most powerful Mazoku in this world not counting Shabranigdo. Do we need that? No. Can we handle such a threat? No. Sorry, Filia, but your dignity has to stand up to much more than his jokes about golden dragons. Besides, it is always you who starts fights.”

“Well said, Miss Lina.” Air wavered, condensing into a shadow that formed into a male shape. Xellos smiled brightly at the group. “Good morning. Have you missed me? How is my sweet Filia the Destroyer today? My deepest respects! My Mistress, the Greater Beast, sends her regrets that she couldn’t see the show herself.”

Filia’s face momentarily became red with rage.

“Give her a break, Xellos! What do you want, again?” snarled the chimera.

“Not nice, Mr. Zelgadis.” The demon pouted. “I dropped in to bring some food and water. Straight from Seiruun’s best restaurant.” He took out from the dimensional pocket some delicious-smelling packages. “But if you don’t want it, then…”

“OUR SAVIOUR!” Lina and Gourry practically jumped on the man to get the meal.

“Oh, my.” Xellos stepped out of their way. “Filia, you really should start to feed your workers. They were ready to bite off my hand. Even, we, Mazoku, don’t drive our minions to such a state. Miss Amelia, Mr, Zelgadis?” The demon offered packages also for the princess and the shaman. Both sighed shamefully, but took the gifts, trying not to look into Filia's eyes. Hunger at the moment was stronger than loyalty.

“And what about you?” The Greater Beast’s Priest smiled angelically at the dragoness.

“I prefer to starve to death rather than take anything from such a filthy monster!” Hissed the girl, her tail waving angrily. “Miss Lina! Don’t eat it! It's poisoned for sure!”

“Then I will die with a full stomach!” snapped the sorceress with the mouth filled with food.

“Slowly, Miss Lina; you will choke yourself! My, they are so enthusiastic, aren’t they?” giggled the Mazoku. “Come on, Filia. Maybe an apple?” A red fruit appeared in his hand. “It isn’t poisoned. I need you all as a bait for Valgaav, did you forget?”

“I won’t…”

“Take it!” Lina’s glare could melt rocks into lava.

“Fine!” Filia finally reached for food too, trying to ignore the fact Xellos had abandoned politely titling her as Miss. She wouldn’t allow him to provoke her again.

“Good little dragoness,” praised the demon.

“You are a real friend, Xellos. We would die here for sure without your help. Phew!” Gourry happily patted his full belly with relief.

“As I said earlier, I need you all alive. That’s all.” Xellos shrugged, crouching next to Lina to show her a map. “In this direction is the end of the desert. Here is a small inn on the trail.”

“But there is the town we wanted to visit.” The sorceress sounded disappointed, indicating the other direction.

“Better not. I checked. Gravos and Jillas made another trap there for you. Valgaav isn’t with them. As we heard it, Almace ordered him to withdraw temporarily. There is no point in another confrontation with pawns.”

“True.”

“And you think we would believe you?” Filia was ready to start another quarrel with fresh strength now, since she’d finished not only the apple but also the dish Xellos had left next to her just in case she changed her mind.

“I think you are not in a position to decide today after that wonderful disaster in the previous town.” The demon’s eyes shifted from the dragoness to the sorceress. “What will you do, Miss Lina?”

The redhead nodded.

“We will stay in the inn.”

“Wonderful.” Xellos moved his hand to wipe something off Lina’s cheek and slid the finger into his own mouth, making the sorceress blush deeply. “My apologies; I love this sauce. Sometimes things are so delicious I can’t resist.” He smiled, trapping the girl’s gaze in his hypnotic glare under half-closed eyelids. “Till the evening then.” He vanished before two stones, thrown in the same moment by Lina and Filia, reached his face.

***

The Mazoku, with regret, left the company of his favourite humans (well, he had to admit that dragon girl was also very amusing, even if the sweetness of her anger was a little spoiled by her sacred power) and jumped into the Astral Dimension, dispersing his physical form into dark energy. From here, where the material body didn't limit his power, he could divide his attention among the travellers, Valgaav's minions waiting in the town (poor things - they will be so frustrated when no one appears) and the rest of the nearby lands looking for any other sign of the traitor.

Valgaav was good at hiding. Or maybe not directly him, but his new friend's nest somehow shielded him from the Mazoku's Astral Eye.

No need to be angry about that. The traitor won't have his revenge on Lina sitting on his ass. He has to make a step forward. It looks like Jillas and Gravos don’t act directly on Valgaav's orders, but… they just wanted to help their master of their own wills. How touching… the loyalty and worship in their hearts.

Xellos soon got bored with tracing towns, fields and the desert without any success. Images of it were flowing through his mind, but the Mazoku's thoughts returned to the previous night with Lina.

It had been a masochistic torture to have her so closely clinging to his body for so long. The Chaos in her was calling him, almost demanding that he sink claws and fangs into this mortal girl. Only the fact Xellos was an experienced old Mazoku let him control his bloody needs. It was painful, but the longer he had kept her in his embrace, the more the feeling changed into a pulsing pleasure.

She probably hadn't noticed anything, thinking that his touches were nothing more than his usual teasing. If Lina could see how limited his senses are… How hard is it to resist the urge of deep contact with her… she would attack him immediately.

The sorceress apparently had been sure he had only wanted to give her some warmth with his cloak, even when she knew the cloak wasn’t a fabric but part of himself. In fact he had wrapped her body tightly only so he could be closer to her. The Chaos was radiating from her whole body faintly. The more he interacted with her, the more he could feel that. Her clothes were a barrier. The demon needed the thinnest way to get to the source. The Chaos flew in Lina's veins, filled her muscles and organs, and pulsed in her mind as well. The most sensitive places on her body were pathways to it. The places where skin was thin and innervated: lips, neck, ears and others that the human species used for procreation. Lesser Mazoku desired only to tear this young woman apart to devour her and make the Chaos one with them… of course only till the moment a stronger beast of darkness would hunt them down to get the power for themselves.

Xellos had a much better plan… as long as he is able to stay conscious while being near the Chaos for so long.

It had been hard to not steal a kiss or two from her. The skin of her nose and forehead was a little salty from the sweat from a hot day, which dried by chill night. The demon's lips had felt ticklish after the contact, especially after the moment Lina had noticed his heart hadn't beat so he’d heightened the level of the reality of the human vessel, shaping organs inside of the body. This only sharpened his human senses.

Xellos sometimes liked taking such a form. It demanded more power and focus to create a good human body copy, but it was very helpful in the art of manipulation, not to mention the improved pleasure of mortal senses. Like in that moment when he had used her distraction to brush his tongue against hers. The effect almost had shattered his control. His perfect falsification of taste buds felt the sweet wetness and slick inside of Lina's mouth. The experience had been intense itself, but mixed with his Mazoku's abilities, had made him moan internally. Chaos was so close, somewhere under this thin layer he had touched. Her saliva, which had remained in his mouth, had been full of very tiny parts of that terrifying power dreaming in the girl.

So hard to not reach for more! He had to be patient and not scare away his precious sorceress. Her emotions had gone crazy. Lina was startled and angry with his boldness… but he could also feel what he had needed: human arousal, shame and embarrassment.

Soon he was going to get more. Much more.

***

The inn was a great choice. The food was tasty, and rooms small, but it had everything tired travellers needed to refresh themselves.

Lina wished to finally lay her head on the pillow and drift away, so she didn't listen very carefully to Filia's complaints during the meal. Thank gods, Xellos didn't join them there, so the priestess returned to her usual panic about the prophecy the group had heard so often they were able to wake up reciting it in the middle of night.

After food they finally headed to bed. This inn was much more modest than the previous one where they’d had the pleasure to sleep, so Lina had no other choice than to clean herself in a bowl of warm water. Better this than nothing.

When she finished and changed clothes into a nightgown, she started to brush her red long locks energetically, wondering lazily how likely it was that the threat to the world was real. Of course their lives were in danger like usual, but Lina, not for the first time, had serious enemies to deal with. The most important thing was to keep fighting.

The sorceress gasped when, reaching for another strand of hair, her fingers had met an unexpected shape she recognized as someone’s hand. She looked quickly in the mirror and in the darkness behind her, two reptilian amethyst eyes glowed delicately. A stranger's digits ran through her locks again.

"May I?" Xellos took the hairbrush from the shocked girl.

"Someday you will lead me to the grave. I HATE when you do that! I didn't invite you here!" Lina finally reminded herself about breathing. He seriously scared her. "Mercy, Xellos. Doors really were invented for knocking!"

"My apologies, I didn't want Filia to know I'm visiting you again." His hands were skillful, and Lina's shoulders tired, so in the end she allowed him to brush her hair. "Is something wrong? This time I waited till the moment you finished refreshing."

"And how did you realize that I was finished?" Asked the sorceress with a weak tone. It was more than obvious he had peeked at her from the Astral Dimension. "Do you even know the meaning of the word privacy?" She snarled, observing his reflection while the demon was tying her locks into a plait.

Xellos smiled. "Of course I know. That's why I'm meeting you now. We couldn't have our nice scientific talks next to your friends."

Lina grimaced. Their ‘nice scientific talks’ cost her all night and a day of feeling funny in some parts of her body. "What do you want? Evenings in your company end with a headache. I don't want you here today."

"Quite the opposite, Miss Lina. You are yearning for my company." Xellos' smile widened, and Lina growled helplessly. "Don't be afraid of me, please. I swear I won't do anything against your wish this evening."

"My wish but not my words." Noted Lina sourly. She wasn't sure if she liked that because her emotions were insanely conflicted between enjoyment of his presence and fear of the demon.

"Correct," confirmed Xellos happily, shifting the finished plait on Lina's chest. "Is that a problem?" He sat on the bed's edge next to the chair occupied by Lina.

"Why are you here?" The sorceress sighed heavily.

"You haven't given me the answer on my offer yet," the Mazoku reminded her.

Lina bit the inner part of her cheek. Her eyes darkened. "It's been too little time. I need more than one day," she whispered. The fact Xellos had proposed a contract was a huge thing. Normally she would laugh at any such Mazoku's proposition, but… refusing openly to this one would be dangerous for her and the rest of the company. Creatures of darkness rarely could stand such an offence calmly.

"That's ok, Miss Lina." Xellos reached his arm and touched the witch's cheek directing her face towards him, so their eyes could meet. "Take as much time as you need. I didn't say I want the answer now. But…" His thumb brushed the line of her jaw, and the girl felt a cold shiver travelling down her spine. "... I'm not going to sit and just wait. Meanwhile I will try to convince you."

Lina's heart just tried to escape through her throat.

"Could you not touch me, please?" She asked weakly.

"Why?" He purred, wrapping her plait around his fingers and pulling her towards him till the moment the demon could feel her irregular breath on his face. "Because of those things your body does against your will? It's not a shame to crave another person, Miss Lina. This is how your species works. I like the scent of your arousal. And your lovely shame… it tastes like strawberries."

The sorceress’ sight blurred in panic. With one quick move she jumped on the other side of the room. In her hands had already formed a ball of fire aiming at the intruder… but the bed was empty. Lina cursed under her nose. She shouldn't let him provoke her.

"Now, now… Such spells are dangerous indoors." Hands appeared from behind her, grasping her wrists firmly, forcing her to let the energy melt away in the air. "Calm down, Miss Lina. You know you can't win with me, however I appreciate the attempt. Is this what you, humans, call foreplay?" Breath of his giggle blew into her nape, raising every single hair on Lina's body.

She would swear that a moment ago, he hadn’t needed to take air into his lungs. A sudden closeness of his body behind her, and the awareness of the lost fight while the demon knew everything about how he works on her, frustrated Lina extremely.

Xellos turned the girl around so she would face him. That annoying smug smile on his handsome face enraged the witch.

"What a lovely blush! Smile, Miss Lina. I know you enjoy those little acts of mischiefs… or at least your body does."

"Stop fooling around!" She snarled, trying to free herself, but he only laughed at her, raising her hands to his mouth and kissing top of both warmly, before he pulled her again towards him, wringing her arms behind her back and pressing her body to his. Lina momentarily became docile, unsure of what would happen.

“I’m afraid I enjoy our evenings too much, Miss Lina,” the demon whispered, looking into her eyes with amusement. “So till the moment you give me the answer, I’m going to spend them with you.”

“So from the next town on, I’m going to share a room with Amelia,” the girl snapped back.

“Miss Lina! A triangle? So soon? You dirty little girl.” His wide grin almost drove the sorceress crazy with fury, but before she could gift him a bite or kick attempt, he pushed her onto the bed.

Lina quickly used her freedom to grab a knife from under a pillow, pointing it at the Mazoku.

“Really? You want to use this against ME? Is that a joke?” Xellos too sat on the bed.

“Don’t mind it. It just makes me feel a little better. The illusion of control of the situation.” Lina’s body was tense and ready to attack at any moment. Most of her reactions were instinctive. Somehow she knew that Xellos really only toyed with her now and all she had to lose was a little dignity.

“I see. Then use it.”

“Pardon me?” She blinked.

“Cut my body, Miss Lina.”

“But…” The sorceress lost her confidence. Even if she knew the blade wasn’t able to harm Xellos at all, she couldn’t force herself to do it.

The man smiled at her and pulled her ankle to have the sorceress closer. Even now she resisted attacking. Xellos raised his eyebrows.

“So… you trust me, Miss Lina.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t trust even myself.” She snorted and caught the air desperately, when his hand traveled up her ankle, slipping under her nightgown, through the shin and stopped on her knee.

“Even now you won’t attack? Is this an invitation?” His smile reminded her of a wolf’s one

Lina threw a pillow into his smug face.

“What's wrong with you today?”

“I don’t know. Probably, the way I affect you got me a little drunk.”

“Can Mazoku even get drunk?” Lina was sceptical.

“In some ways, apparently yes.” He took back his hand, and the sorceress felt unexpected disappointment and chill in the place his fingers had rested. “I promised to convince you of the contract with me. Treat these evenings as an opportunity. I will be more willing to share the forbidden knowledge than usual.”

This immediately pinned Lina’s attention.

“Can I ask whatever I want?” Her eyes gleamed like a child’s on its birthday.

“You can ask, but I choose what I will answer, my dear. Let’s say, the larger base of knowledge is available after the contract is formed.”

Lina blushed again at his fond tone and wondered about the first question. She didn’t want to push her luck too much in the beginning, so she chose a safe one. “Do you breathe only as a masquerade?”

“Hmm…” Xellos brushed his chin; “It’s a more complex topic than you think. The basic answer would be: yes, I do it mostly to hide among mortals, but since we are here for a longer conversation, we can go deeper into the issue.”

“Is there a connection with the heartbeat you can turn on and off?” Lina remembered the previous evening.

“It is all connected. Creating the physical vessel is more demanding than you’d think. That’s why only the most powerful of us can reproduce the human body in a way that seems to be real. I think a small presentation is needed.” The Mazoku reached his arm out to Lina. His dark coat and sleeve melted into a shadow absorbed by the rest of his body, shaping a bare forearm. Xellos’ clothes looked strange now, like someone had cut off half of them. Muscles seemed to be real, though.

Lina furrowed her eyebrows, cocking her head to see better. A subtle map of veins and tendons were visible when Xellos stretched the arm. Till this moment she didn’t realize how complicated the construction of human organisms was. No wonder the lower rank Mazoku looked creepy, not being able to make their physical forms as good as Xellos’. Randomly placed eyes or limbs often mixed with animal parts. Chimeras from horrors fully deserving to be called monsters or demons.

“Cut my arm.”

Lina glanced at the Mazoku unsure, but Xellos grasped her hand and slid the blade through the flesh, before the girl could react. Inside the wound was blackness and emptiness which started to pour outside in the form of smoke for a short moment before the cut healed.

“So it’s only the perfect surface,” she concluded.

“It is,” the Mazoku confirmed. “Only at this level. Check now.” He pressed her fingertips to the inner side of his wrist. Lina shifted uneasily, when she suddenly felt the pulse. “This level of detail demands much more energy from me in creating the vessel. Cut my arm again. Deep!”

The sorceress clenched her jaw, but did that, almost immediately gasping in surprise when sliced flesh parted under the knife and blood (black like a night sky) burst out. She could easily see muscles, veins… even a bone deep inside. Xellos hissed in pain, but the wound started to heal before a panicked Lina could find anything to wrap up his arm.

“Easy, Miss Lina. Everything is alright. It is only a good copy. Even having the body in such a faithful form l am still a Mazoku. I will regenerate wounds immediately.” He chuckled at her terrified face.

“Warn me next time, before you drown my bed in blood, you asshole.” She punched him in the chest.

“Sorry about that.” Black stains on the sheets vanished, returning to the monster as smoke. “This state lets me feel in a similar way to humans: taste, pain, pleasure. I reconstruct everything inside: my all organs can work exactly like yours… if I need that. Additionally I still have my Mazoku powers. I can smoothly jump between my physical forms in a blink of an eye, but it costs me lots of energy.”

“So you are able to eat, drink and enjoy the sense of touch like every human.” Lina was impressed.

“Copulation also isn’t a problem, and there is no risk of impregnation. I can’t copy the body to THAT level.” Before he’d finished, another pillow hit his face. “Oh, Miss Lina, you shouldn't be so shy. We are talking from a scientific point of view, right?” His bright teasing smile told her the opposite.

“Exactly. I’m not going to even consider that a veiled offer.” The sorceress murmured, totally red to the tips of her ears. “I was sure even you couldn’t create such a perfect body, but you can reproduce all five human senses… why are your eyes still so inhuman?”

“Because your species' sight is imperfect. I prefer to see well in darkness even being in the physical form. This is why I mixed into my vessel some animal abilities.”

"But how did you know how humans work? You have to know that to make such a perfect copy."

Xellos' smile faded and the demon remained silent.

"Don't tell me: it's a secret." Lina rolled her eyes.

"It isn't, but you wouldn't like the answer. Do you want to hear it after all?"

Lina swallowed nervously. She could guess by herself: "Lots of very nasty experiments," the sorceress whispered.

"Astral possessions, enslaving humans, torturing them, examining. Dissections, vivisections… Should I say more? What did you expect? I am a Mazoku. Shaping my physical vessel to the level I showed you took me hundreds of years."

Lina wrapped her knees with her arms, pulling them to her chest, feeling sick.

"Your race has an adorable tendency to underestimate someone who behaves in a friendly and silly way. Even you, Miss Lina, sometimes forget my true nature."

"You were right. I don't like the answer and it rather won't convince me to make a contract with you. So… good night?" She waved in the direction of the door.

"Everything has good and bad sides." Xellos ignored her words. "I don't need to do those things anymore. I'm afraid I’ve spoiled the mood. I better prefer you to be enthusiastic than gloomy. Any other questions?"

"Not today." Lina turned away her eyes, hoping that the demon would finally leave the room, but the Mazoku only shifted closer to her, taking her hand into his, stroking gently.

"You don't need to be afraid of me for now. You are… special to me."

"I feel that." She snorted, returning to her rather confident attitude, finally glancing at the man from under her eyelashes. "Even Filia isn't so harassed by you. I just wonder what makes me so interesting. My beautiful eyes? My intelligence? Sense of humour?" The sorceress joked, but then she bit her tongue, seeing Xellos smiling in a way she has never seen before. His amethyst eyes gleamed in a candle’s light, making her feel strangely hot in a way she already had enough.

"It's a secret," he finally answered, kissing her fingers, and then pressing his cheek to the inner side of her palm.

"Okay, you are scaring me," whispered Lina, and it was true.

"Not only scaring you." She felt his lips on her cheek, and realized he smiled wider, inhaling her scent into his fake lungs. "Strawberries." A low whisper in her ear, hot breath on Lina's neck. "Maybe someday should I try this dessert?"

Lina turned towards him ready to tell him what she thought about that, but suddenly she was alone in the room. Even the candles were extinguished.

The witch lay more comfortably in the bed, but she couldn't fall asleep, observing the ceiling as though there would be answers for how to deal with everything that had fallen onto her fragile back.

"I hate when he does that."

#xellina #xellos #lina inverse #the slayers #fanfic #whispers in the dark - xellina fanfic

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not-close-to-straight · 5 years

Text

“It’s Five O Clock Somewhere” (WinterHawk)

Clint and Bucky bonding over too much alcohol and THIS iconic song.

PLAYLIST MASTERLIST HERE

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

Bucky hated being benched, hated being put on the sidelines, hated being sat at home in the compound while Steve took the rest of the team out to save the world.

He understood why people didn’t want to see the Winter Soldier running around out in the world again. He understood why his activities were heavily monitored, why he was only allowed to help on missions that were nothing more than good PR opportunities.

Steve had been quick to forgive the Soldier’s past, the team had come along shortly and Tony-- somehow even Tony treated Bucky as if nothing was wrong between them. Here within the compound, Bucky was just another face on the team, just another good guy.

The world had an entirely different view though, and that’s why today just like so many other days, Bucky was confined to the compound while the others went off to be heroes.

It was fine. Bucky wasn’t bitter at all. Not. At. All.

It wasn’t like he was lonely, or like the quiet made him feel as if he were going insane. It wasn’t like he couldn’t sleep when there was no one else there, not like he tried to sleep and woke up in panics because what if he was still in cryo freeze--

Any way. It was fine. It was all fine. Bucky would go downstairs and make himself a sandwich and maybe watch one of those old spy films Natasha was always watching and try to catch a very quick, nightmare free nap.

“The sun is hotttt and that old clockkkk is moving slow! And so am I!”

Bucky stopped in his tracks and tilted his head, because he couldn’t possbly be hearing what sounded like a very drunk Clint Barton singing a terribly off tune twang about--

“Work day passes li-ike molasses in winner-time! But darlin’ it’s July! Gettin’ paid by the hour, and older by the--”

“Barton.”

“--minute--OHMYGOD!” Clint shrieked and froze mid step, mouth agape, eyes wide, holding a giant sandwich in one hand and a very very fruity looking blended drink in the other. “Oh my god. Frosty, my man you scared the shit outta me. What are you doing?”

“No no.” Bucky shook his head and squinted at the drink, at the triple-quadruple-quintuple layered sandwich, at the way Clint had gotten all six foot three of himself into ratty purple sweatpants and crop top that definitely belonged to Natasha. “What are you doing?”

“Hanging out.” Clint said, as if that explained anything at all. “What does it look like?”

“It looks like you’re gettin’ drunk at half past twelve in the afternoon.” Bucky pointed out. “Caterwaulin’ to some awful song, wearing stolen clothes and about to eat enough food to put you into a coma.”

“Is it only half past twelve?” Clint looked faintly surprised, then shrugged it off. “Welp. I’ve been drinking since like ten, and it’s gotta be five o clock somewhere and we’re both benched from the mission. Wanna get drunk with me?”

“Super soldier.” Bucky said, more than a hint regretfully. He and Clint weren’t exactly friends, but the archer was hilarious and easy going and well-- well Bucky had a type, and Clint was tall, blonde and had muscles for days, which pretty much checked every box Bucky had.

Plus, Clint had never once looked at Bucky weird or all the brain washing, he never flinched when Bucky wanted to spar, and even though his litany of nicknames for Bucky ranged from ‘Frosty’ to ‘Ye Olde Sourpuss’, they were never said with anything other than easy affection and accompanied by a flirty sort of wink. Besides, sometimes Clint talked bull shit about the other Avengers via sign language, and while Bucky’s sign language was rusty at best, it made him feel a little more connected to talk like that anyway.

“Super soldier.” Bucky repeated, feeling regretful all over again when Clint just looked at him. “Can’t get drunk.”

“Oh, but I can fix that.” Clint’s grin stretched towards goofy and Bucky blinked at the sheer sunniness of it, wondering if he would ever get used to how much he liked Clint’s smile. “Okay so you can’t ever tell anyone? But I guarantee I got something that will get even your delightfully frostbitten ass drunk as a skunk in May.”

“You’re drunk enough for the both of us.” Bucky decided and Clint’s grin got a little bit bigger. “Besides, me and Stevie-- we’ve emptied Tony’s whole cupboard trying to get drunk. Doesn’t work.”

“Come on, I’ll show you.” Clint set his precariously tall sandwich down, and chugged back most of the neon colored blended drink. Then he grabbed at Bucky’s hand-- Bucky’s left hand-- and took off down the corridor, dragging Bucky behind him.

“Clint-- Clint wait--” Bucky found himself laughing without even meaning to, holding onto Clint’s hand and following the archer’s rather clumsy run down towards the bottom floor where Bruce had his lab and his Hulk-out room. “Just wait, what are we doing?”

“Okay come here.” Clint’s eyes were sparkling bright blue, brilliant and clear and when he stumbled to a stop and Bucky nearly ran into him, they ended up nose to nose, chest to chest, and even though Clint was only an inch or so taller than Bucky, the height difference seemed alot more extreme when they were so close.

“Wow.” Clint wet his lips and looked Bucky over with a smile that was practically lecherous. “We should get up close and personal a lot more.”

“You’re drunk.” Bucky said flatly, ignoring the thrill that went through him at Clint’s words, and Clint just nodded in agreement.

“Totally sloshed, Buck. Totally sloshed. But come and look.” he dragged Bucky over to Bruce’s desk and undid the bottom drawer. “So a few months ago, I triple dog dared Bruce to get the Hulk drunk because Big and Green is kinda like you and Stars and Gripes and he can’t get drunk, right? So Bruce did all this research and experimenting and came up with this!”

Clint retrieved a flask and held it up triumphantly, and Bucky eyed it skeptically. “What is it?”

“Moonshine!” Clint crowed. “Just about the purest shit you’ll find outside of Kentucky, you feel me? If this don’t put the whoo hoo in your hootenanny, then you’re just outta luck.”

“Put the whoo hoo in my what?” Bucky laughed again and Clint whistled, “Boy howdy Buck, you are mega hot when you laugh. Let’s do more of that right now. This put Bruce in a coma for like three days. Here, bottoms up.”

“Um--” Bucky looked between the flask and Clint’s eager smile, thought about all the lonely afternoons he’d spent in the compound and how much more fun it would be spend this afternoon with Clint, tried to remember the last time he was drunk and wondered what Clint would taste like with moonshine on his lips....

“Bottoms up.”

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

“Why are you--” Bucky blinked up at the ceiling, almost a hundred percent sure that it had not been moving in circles earlier that morning. “Why are you wearing Natasha’s crop top?”

“Because my abs are a national treasure and it’s a damn shame to keep them covered up.” Clint said slurred, laying flat on his back on the living room floor. “I mean, have you seen my abs? They’re not All American cheese graters like your boyfriend is packing, but I’d consider them wash board status.”

“Wash board.” Bucky’s smile was far too wide and he didn’t even care. “Yeah, you are pretty gorgeous.”

“I know, right?” Clint had pulled a silly straw from.. from somewhere, and it twisted and turned and looped up and around so he could manage to still drink the alarmingly purple liquid on his drink without actually sitting up. “I am gorgeous. People are always like ‘oh no, Clint’s got a bandage on his nose again’ and ‘oh no, Clint got hurt again’ but you know what? Not everyone looks sexy rocking bandaids and bruises, okay? I own my disasterness.”

“S’that why you’re home?” Bucky rolled off the couch and splatted onto the carpet next to Clint, the empty flask of moonshine clattering to the floor as well. “You got banged up last time?”

“Concussion.” Clint confirmed, slurping through that ridiculous straw. “Bruce said I should sit this one out. Didn’t know you were home too though or I would’a worn something less revealing. At least would’a worn underwear. You know, for modesty’s sake and all that.

“You have no modesty.”

“I have exactly no modesty!”

It wasn’t funny, not in the least, but both Clint and Bucky cracked up, holding at their sides and guffawing at the idea of Clint having any sense of modesty at all.

“Oh man, I know what we should do.” Clint bolted upright to sitting, then put his hand to his head and collapsed backwards into a heap, cracking his head on the floor and groaning, “Ow pain, that didn’t help my concussion.” If Bucky would have been sober, he would have been embarrassed at the way he snort-laughed, but as it was, the snort just set Clint off into another round of giggles and it was several minutes before they managed to pull themselves together again.

“Okay okay okay. I was gonna say.” Clint sat up slower this time, rotating to look down at Bucky. “We should play truth or dare. That’s what pretty people do when they drink. Truth or dare. You know how to play that, or was it before your time?”

“Shut the fuck up and play.” Bucky shoved at Clint’s chest, or at least he meant to shove. It turned into more of a caress type situation, and Clint’s eyes got comically wide when Bucky’s fingers lingered at the skin showing beneath his crop top.

“It’s fuckin’ embarrasing that I’m about to pop an awkward boner cos you touched my tummy.” he announced and when Bucky’s eyes automatically helplessly fell to Clint’s lap, the archer yelped, “Don’t look at it! You’ll scare it away! He’s shy!”

Bucky’s mouth fell open and Clint gathered enough of his wits to say, “Uh, my dick is not shy. That’s not where that sentence was intended to go. He’s not-- he’s not a shy boy. Not at all.” and Bucky fell apart laughing as Clint turned an entirely unhealthy shade of red.

“Truth or dare!” Bucky finally gasped out, struggling to sit up as well and feeling around for the flask, hoping for another quick drink. “Go on then, play the game!”

“Alright, ask me a truth.” Clint offered Bucky the rest of his neon drink and Bucky shook his head firmly.

“M’not drinkin’ that toxic shit. Alright truth. You really as clumsy as you look or do you play it up so people don’t know you’re smart?”

“I walked into a door yesterday cos Thor swaggered by in his underwear and I almost died.” Clint confirmed, raising his voice to be heard over Bucky’s snickering. “IN MY DEFENSE, have you seen that guy? I would pay him to smother me in those thighs.”

“Oh fuck me, that’s too much truth.” Bucky took a hesitant, tiny sip of Clint’s drink and instantly pulled a face. “My turn.”

“Truth or dare, Mr. Freeze?” Clint staggered to his feet and wandered over to the bar to get Bucky a beer. “What’ll it be?”

“Truth.” Bucky said easily, partly cos he was too damn drunk to attempt a dare, partly because for the first time in for ever he felt like maybe opening up a tiny bit. “Let’s hear it.”

“Yeah alright.” Clint made it back and passed the beer over. “Are you and Steve dating, fucking, have dated or fucked, or in any way have any association with each other’s dicks at all?”

Bucky stared at him for a full minute and Clint waggled his eyebrows. “C’mon Buck, you knew I was gonna ask. Everyone thinks you two are doin’ the knick knack paddy whack so here’s your chance to lay it all out on the---glmpgh!?!”

The noise Clint made when Bucky jolted forward and mashed their mouths together was decidedly un sexy and fairly hilarious, but initial weirdness aside, he threw himself whole heartedly into the unexpected kiss.

Bucky oophed when Clint shoved him down to the ground, but then he groaned when the big blond stretched out on top of him, and both of them made some sort of noise when the next kiss involved a whole lotta tongue and more than a hint of teeth.

Clint’s hands were everywhere, callouses lighting up Bucky’s skin as he tried to get underneath Bucky’s shirt, one of his long legs wedged firmly between Bucky’s thighs and when Bucky lifted his hip and rubbed against him, Clint cheered, “Hey look, he’s not shy anymore!” and Bucky nearly ruined the moment by dying of laughter.

“I’m way too drunk for this.” Clint complained as their kisses got messy and hands got sloppy. “Been wanting this for fuckin’ ever--”

“Really?” Bucky asked in surprise. “Me?”

“Have you seen you?” Clint retorted. “But I’m too damn drunk to enjoy it and you outta your mind on moonshine doesn’t feel like real agreement and--”

“Shut up.” Bucky grumbled and shoved his hand down the back of those ugly sweatpants to get a big handful of booty. “M’not too drunk to not know what m’doin!”

“Okay okay okay--” Clint tore their mouths apart and all but attacked Bucky’s neck, leaving harsh kisses and bruising bites down the clear skin and working his tongue over the scars where metal met flesh and when he moaned, “Fuck, baby, you’re so gorgeous do you know that?”--

--Bucky went still for a few seconds, wrapped his arms tight around Clint and just held him, rocked by a wave of emotion and vulnerability and god damn it maybe he was too drunk if being called gorgeous made him want to cry--

“Clint?” he asked, and when there was no answer, when it suddenly registered that Clint felt heavier than usual against him, Bucky leaned away to peer down at the blond. “Clint are you--”

“--Jesus fuck, you’re passed the hell out.” he said in exasperation, and Clint-- who was very much passed the hell out because he’d been drinking for the last six hours and was only human, after all-- just snored away peacefully.

“Oh my god.” Bucky rolled to the side so he wouldn’t squash Clint flat. “Okay well you know what, maybe I’ll just close my eyes for a minute too. Been a while since I’ve been drunk, forgot that it could make you so tired....”

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

“Okay but like--” Sam gestured helplessly to the living room, to the sight of Clint passed out in ratty clothes with the remnants of several fruity drinks and what looked like a silly straw surround him, and then to Bucky, who was open mouthed snoring, hair a wreck, an empty flask near his hand. “--What in the fuck happened here?”

“I dunno, but it’s a pretty good bet that Cap disapproves.” Tony swatted Steve on the rear and grinned. “Don’t look so upset, babe. What did you expect Clint and Bucky to do if we left them here alone?”

“I didn’t expect to come back and find them passed out drunk at four thirty in the afternoon.” Steve said flatly. “It’s not even five o clock. I thought people weren’t supposed to drink until five o clock? How are they already this drunk?”

“Oh come on, you know the song.” Tony shoved his boyfriend towards the elevator so they could get undressed from the fight. “It’s always five o clock in Margaritaville.”

“I do not know that song.” Steve insisted, his voice fading away as Tony herded him down the hall. “I do not know that song! It’s not five o clock, it’s four thirty! Clint is a terrible influence on Bucky!”

“Who do you think started drinking?” Sam asked Natasha. “Clint or Bucky?”

“It was definitely Clint.” She decided. “Probably drinking those weird fruity mixed drinks he pretends are completely manly. They all have names like Juicy Lucy and Dances with Wenches or some other beachy bullshit. Honestly, I’m just impressed their clothes are still on.”

“You and me both.” Sam tipped his head and narrowed his eyes. “Tash, is Clint wearing your crop top?”

“You know what? I don’t want to talk about it.”

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#ncts fics #winterhawk #bucky barnes #clint barton #stony #margaritaville #song fic #its five o clock somewhere

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