Tumgik
#alright goodnight i am still exhausted from my work trip
simgerale · 15 days
Text
Tumblr media
finished writing chapter three!! there are currently 10 posts planned, along with the "growing up" post so 11 total in the works! excited for you all to see what i've been cooking (^:<
14 notes · View notes
depressedbagpipe · 1 year
Text
Ka-Chaow (Charles Leclerc x female!reader)
Chapter two
Words: 3902 Warnings: google-translated italian, more mentions of alcohol, poor writing, me not knowing how the ferrari factory works A/N: alright so this has been long overdue so i apologize for that. also, i haven't been to maranello so everything i mention is basically from google maps. everything about the publishing industry i got from a random blog so just to be safe, don't trust anything i say about it ♥️ A/N (II): italics are phone calls, bold and italics are messages, just bold is the location, and (parenthesis) the translation for the Italian ;) Taglist: @heavengirls111, @roseamongthorns13, @mishaandthebrits, @charlesswife, @silscintilla
Series Masterlist Previous chapter <> Next chapter
Tumblr media
Chapter two
Maranello, December 2nd, 2022
‘Wait, wait, wait, so then you’re attending the races?’
‘Yep.’
‘And you’re getting double passes if you ask for them?’
‘Affirmative.’
‘And you know you’re my favorite daughter?’
‘I’m your only daughter.’
‘Still.’
‘I’ll take you to Monaco.’
‘Dio, ti amo.’ (God, I love you)
‘Of course, you do,’ I giggled at my dad.
‘And how’s the trip so far?’
‘It’s… fine, I guess,’ I cringed, looking out the window.
The only sight I could catch from my balcony was the Ferrari factory in the distance, and the hotel’s parking lot on the other side. The views I had caught from the car ride from Bologna’s airport had been beautiful, but we hadn’t had any time to stop to look around.
‘Just fine?’ my dad wondered.
‘It’s not a holiday, papà, I’m technically working,’ I said with a sigh. 
I walked back and dropped on my bed, staring at the fancy ceiling of my hotel room. Although the flight to Bologna had been short, the lunch with Maurizio Arrivabene had been exhausting. Too many bottles of wine and too little discussion about the job, besides the promise of all the paddock access we wanted, as well as the finest wine bottles per Mr. Williamson’s request.
‘Still, you’re going to the track tomorrow, right?’ my dad asked again.
I moved my phone to my other ear, gently rubbing the sore nub after almost an hour of my dad’s nonstop gushing.
‘Yeah.’
‘What time?’
‘We get there at 11 am, I think. I don’t know if the tour will be before or after the meeting with the execs, though,’ I bit my lip, checking the time on my wristwatch.
‘Mio dio, everything is so early here compared to home,’ my dad groaned, and I couldn’t help but laugh at his antics. (My God)
‘Well, not my fault you moved to London for love,’ I answered back.
‘Now you have to move to Italy in return so that we can complete the circle.’
‘Dad!’ I laughed loudly, despite my hand covering my mouth. It was a bit early in the evening, but I knew several guests at the hotel would not appreciate my yelling. ‘Alright, I’ll take you up on that.’
‘You better, chicken pie.’
‘Anyways, I think I’m gonna go. I’m actually exhausted.’
‘Too many emotions today?’
‘Yeah, and I gotta be up early for tomorrow.’
‘Wasn’t the meeting at 11 am?’
I frowned. ‘Yeah. But I still need to finish editing a couple of manuscripts. Do you happen to know anything about the types and uses of the cross symbol in Ethiopian religion?’
My dad took a couple of seconds to answer. ‘... No?’
‘Yeah, me either. Gotta learn a bunch of stuff for tomorrow.’
‘Well, call me when you know something.’
‘Will do,’ I laughed softly. ‘Buona notte, papà. Ti amo.’ (Goodnight, Dad, I love you.)
‘Ti amo di più, Principessa,’ with that, our conversation ended. (I love you more, princess.)
I stayed sprawled on my bed after throwing my phone on the comforter, closing my eyes for a few seconds. I knew I still had to unpack some clothes for tomorrow, recharge my laptop and work on the manuscripts, order dinner, make sure Mr. Williamson got the entire schedule right for the rest of the trip, eat dinner, and get a decent amount of sleep for the following day’s events. Despite my nerves, exhaustion was getting the best of me, and as soon as I felt myself drifting off, I willed my eyelids to open and my legs to move, standing up with a groan at my tired muscles. 
A couple of hours later I was already in bed, my fingers expertly typing away while my eyes begged me to finally close them and sleep. My laptop felt hot on my legs even over the sheets, but I couldn’t stop. Deadlines were approaching, and even though I willingly signed up for the trip, I still found the huge workload that still needed to be done frankly overwhelming, especially since I was working double during Mr. Williamson’s secret and unauthorized gap year. With a sigh, I kept typing until my eyes closed on their own accord. 
I didn’t even know at what time I fell asleep. It only felt like a few minutes until my phone was blasting the alarm as loud as possible. I carelessly reached for it with my eyes closed, hoping my fingers would find it early enough to turn the horrible sound off, but I only managed to slightly push the laptop away. Opening my eyes in a panic, I sighed in relief when I found no crack on the screen, the object still on my bed and not broken on the floor, but the alarm kept going, and not only that, but the hotel phone on my bedside table was also now ringing loudly.
Despite feeling like crying at that very moment, for not only was I not a morning person, but the extreme trauma of waking up mixed with the incessant noise coming from both sides of my bed was enough to almost send me into cardiac arrest. Grabbing my phone and quickly pressing the orange alert, I answered the call.
‘Hello?’ I asked, a yawn escaping my lips as I waited for the answer.
‘Good morning, Miss, this is Francesco speaking, from the front desk. Yesterday you asked us to please wake you up at 7 am,’ the worker spoke in perfect English.
I frowned, not remembering at all having done that, but then again, I didn’t remember most of the evening once I tried to recall how I fell asleep.
‘Oh, grazie, Francesco,’ I replied with another yawn. (Thank you.)
‘Would you like to have your complimentary breakfast sent to your room?’
I paused, enjoying the sound of that. ‘Sure, why not. What were the options, then?’
And that’s how I found myself having breakfast on the balcony, overlooking the blue horizon thanks to the lack of tall buildings around the hotel. I certainly missed the sky back in my London apartment, and it almost felt weird to have the sun shining so brightly on me so late in the year, but nonetheless, it brought some color to my cheeks as I feasted on the delicious biscuits I was offered. I allowed myself to calm down and enjoy the food, forgetting about my job and the likely still sleeping Mr. Williamson on the other side of the wall. As I waited for the breakfast to be brought, I had already taken a shower and gotten ready for the day and was simply enjoying the rather quiet life that the hotel’s location could offer. I did miss the people and the nightlife, but I already got a lot of it in London. 
Taking slow sips of my coffee, I finally got my phone out. I took a couple of pictures to send my mom, knowing she would be calling me in no time to check up on me and make sure I hadn’t caught a bug while I slept. Switching to Instagram, Alec’s face was the first thing that showed up. He had posted a video singing a new song, but I couldn’t will myself to listen to it just yet. His music was what brought us together in the first place, and for weeks I hadn’t been able to listen to his voice again. It was just too painful. 
‘Did you listen to his new song?’ I quickly texted Angela.
‘You won’t like it, though,’ she quickly responded.
I bit my lip. ‘Is it about me?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Is it bad?’ my fingers trembled slightly as I typed, suddenly feeling nervous.
‘I mean, it’s not good.’
‘You’re so helpful,’ I groaned, shivering slightly all of a sudden. 
A cloud had passed directly over the sun, taking the warmth with it. I stood up and walked back inside.
‘Text me when you listen to it. But wait until you’re back in London.’
‘Why?’
‘Don’t let it ruin your trip.’
‘Alright,’ I sighed and ended the conversation.
I shook my arms slightly, trying to find some physical way to let go of those thoughts, and swiftly got my laptop and sat down on the small desk by the window, and typed away my anxiety. 
I wasn’t a big fan of editing manuscripts, especially those about subjects I completely abhorred, but in the grand scheme of things, it somehow helped to leave my mind completely blank, making the time pass by even faster.
Before I knew it, it was 9:45 am. Another alarm went off, and with a final sigh, I saved my progress, put on some shoes, and left my room, only to go to the next door and promptly open the door with Mr. Williamson’s extra card. 
The sight did not surprise me in the slightest. He was still fast asleep on his bed, with the covers half-dangling from the sides and the mini bar half-empty. The room was completely dark save for the light coming from the open door.
I had to take a big deep breath before closing the door behind me and walking decisively towards the blinds, opening them wide, as well as his own balcony’s door, not even caring that the cold and wind could potentially make him sick. I was beyond the point of caring about his health when he clearly didn’t care about his.
‘Rise and shine, Stephen,’ I clapped loudly.
Mr. Williamson woke up with a start, groaning loudly.
‘It’s too early,’ he mumbled, flipping on the bed and pulling the covers over his head.
‘Hell, no,’ I said, grabbing the sheets and pulling them off from his body completely. ‘You’ve got an hour before the car arrives, so chop chop!’ I said as I opened his suitcase and started taking his belongings out, looking for some decent clothes. 
The night before coming to Italy, I had forced him to send me a picture of his luggage, knowing that, if it were up to him, he would show up in Crocs and Bermudas. It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve had a meeting with him dressed like that.
Thankfully, Mr. Williamson listened to me and sat down in bed, still half-asleep, but at least I could work with that. I threw him his toilet bag.
‘Take a shower, God, you stink,’ I complained, grabbing him from one of his arms and pulling him up. 
I slightly pushed him in the direction of the bathroom, and he followed without another word. 
‘If you don’t come out in ten minutes, I’m getting in. And I’ll bring my phone!’ I warned him, hoping the warning would be enough for me not to see him naked. 
‘Jesus, you sound like my wife,’ he mumbled just before closing the door behind him. 
I looked around his room, and opted for taking the remaining alcohol from the mini bar with me, just to be safe. Even though the bottles were tiny, I didn’t trust my boss to somehow get wasted. I wasn’t about to risk my job and my career, especially in a foreign country. Out of habit, I checked my emails again, hoping to see Rosanna’s name somewhere with a publishing vacancy, but as usual, no new emails had been sent since that morning. 
My feet moved by themselves across Mr. Williamson’s room, putting his clothes on the bed, and even going as far as to call some room service for him. I was hoping the sleep and the shower would sober him up because I was anxious as hell about the meeting.
Not only was I a huge sports car fan, but the fact that we had been invited by Piero Ferrari himself to visit the factory, which I could now see from my room, and talk to all those developers who worked there with the same passion my father and I had, was completely mind-blowing. And I didn’t want anything to screw it up.
‘So that’s our proposal. Ink’n’Paper and Scuderia Ferrari, together, writing about the history and fame of our car. And we want you, Stephen, to write it,’ Benedetto Vigna finished his speech with a looming voice, staring directly at my boss with a light smirk.
Ferrari’s own CEO had welcomed us into the factory, walking us through the many impressive facilities, and showing us every detail of the place. To say I was awestruck would be an understatement. The museum was absolutely incredible, and the curators had even allowed me to take dozens of videos to send to my dad, which I knew was probably screaming and crying at the sight of them. 
The meeting had started an hour later under the pretext of getting down to business as soon as possible and with the promise of trying the Driving Simulator after lunch.
‘Well, certainly, I can’t say that I didn’t see this coming,’ Mr. Williamson replied, taking his glasses off. ‘And how were you thinking about doing this, Benedetto?’
‘We had a couple of ideas in mind, but I think it’ll be easier right now if you stay in Monaco with the team.’
‘Monaco?’ I blurted. ‘Sorry,’ I apologized in embarrassment, but thankfully Mr. Vigna didn’t seem to care.
‘It’s alright. No, we’re opening a new office in Monaco for the new season, and given that it’s certainly closer to Maranello than London, we think that the writing would be faster.’
‘What deadlines are we talking about here, then?’ Mr. Williamson asked.
Not an ounce of alcohol was in his system, at least that I knew of, and he was magically back to being the professional editor I had known him to be what felt like an eternity ago.
Mr. Vigna looked at his colleagues, all of them nodding amongst themselves. ‘Hopefully, we could have it by the winter break. You know, from a marketing point of view, every Ferrari fan out there would be definitely getting it for Christmas.’
Mr. Williamson took a sip of his espresso, carefully considering his options. Then, he looked at me. ‘What do you think?’
I widened my eyes. ‘Me?’
He nodded. ‘Yeah, you. You also work here, I want to know what you think.’
Any thought left my mind as soon as he said those words. Despite being used to taking over his meetings due to his many inebriated states, I was feeling rather intimidated by the situation. And, unlike Mr. Williamson, I had never published anything before.
‘Well, uh, technically December is a bit of a dead zone in the publishing industry.’
I spoke with a low voice, feeling anxious about debunking Mr. Vigna’s theory.
‘Is that so?’ he asked, but his tone was more curious than annoyed. 
That only encouraged me further. ‘Yeah. It’s usually September when we get all the workload. December kinds of get those less-interesting manuscripts from the bottom of the submissions box, and many workers just leave on vacation. We usually just… publish more volumes of the already best-selling ones, because those are the ones that get sold. The marketing would have to be insane if we want this book to make figures on Christmas.’
My comment was met with utter silence. I stared at all the people in the room, silently hoping for someone to talk because the embarrassment was already too high.
Mr. Williamson gratefully came to my aid, as weird as it sounded.
‘She’s right,’ he said, taking one final sip. ‘Either we push the deadline forward to September, or we spend a couple of millions on the marketing.’
Mr. Vigna seemed to consider our words after that. ‘Right, I certainly didn’t know that. Won’t September be too much of a short time for you?’ he looked back at Mr. Williamson, who quickly shook his head.
‘I don’t see why it’d be a problem. As long as we start as early as possible and are provided with all the materials we need…’ he looked up in deep thought.
‘And what do you need?’ one of the women at the other end of the desk spoke, pen already in hand, waiting to write anything down.
‘Certainly, we need access to any source of information about Ferrari. Whether is it the cars, the history, even the drivers, literally anything with the word “Ferrari” in it,’ he spoke. ‘Now, I got a tight schedule when writing biographies, and I need at least two months just to do the research. After that, the writing comes smoothly.’
‘Don’t forget the editing…’ I whispered loud enough for him to hear.
He waved me off. ‘It will take some time, though. You know I’m not that much of a Formula 1 enthusiast. I much rather prefer cricket,’ he said, standing up from his chair and buttoning his shirt.
With his clean suit and combed hair, he looked unrecognizable from the man I had found in his bed that morning. He looked put-together for the first time in months, and it brought me back to the first meetings of my internship, where everything he did was graceful and calculated. I felt oddly safe for the first time in months, knowing that, no matter how the meeting went, I had Mr. Williamson to guide us through the rubble and exit the building with an even straighter back and untouched dignity. I so wished every day at work felt the same.
‘But my assistant over here is, in fact, a remarkable connoisseur of the sport. What did you call it? Tifosi?’ he quickly looked at me, looking for confirmation. ‘She’s half Italian, in fact. I might have to delegate some of the work to her.’
I widened my eyes even more, his words leaving a huge pit in my stomach. My head felt suddenly numb, and my pulse increased as I recited his intentions.
‘In that case, Stephen, if you trust her to do the job, so do we. Obviously, if she agrees.’
I felt more eyes on me, and I gulped. I nodded slowly. ‘Yeah, I do.’
Benedetto Vigna smiled and brought his palms together. ‘Great! I’m sure you’ll be fine in Monaco,’ he stood up from his chair, signaling everybody to do the same. 
Mr. Williamson offered me his arm, given I was still in shock at Mr. Vigna’s words. Everybody started filing out.
‘Wait, what?’ I asked no one in particular.
‘I guess you’re going to Monaco,’ Mr. Williamson said as he lightly pushed me out of the room, pretty much in the same way I had done that morning to get him in the shower.
‘But… what about work?’
He frowned at me. ‘This is work.’
I didn’t have time to reply, for Mr. Vigna’s loud voice reverberated around the hall.
‘Now, I believed I promised you lunch and a Fiorano tour. Oh, and the Driving Simulator, too.’
Despite being a huge Formula 1 fan, I had never been to a race track. The only person I really wanted to attend a race with was my dad, and he was always a bit too busy, and the tickets were always a bit too expensive. Not coming from a large income family had definitely shut a few dreams down, hence why I had immediately started crying at the sight of the Fiorano track, where Ferrari tested their cars. Even though it was empty, the sheer sight of the huge lane was enough to bring tears to my eyes. Thankfully, the sun was shining down on us, and my eyes were hidden by my sunglasses, but I knew my face would soon become a bit too red for other people to notice.
Lunch had been fine, yet I was still thinking about Mr. Vigna’s words. Not only was I part of the project, but I had also been tasked with recollecting all information about the red Scuderia and its cars and history, all of it while I lived by myself in Monaco. I was dreading the conversation with my parents, knowing my mom would definitely not approve, as well as the high chances of me getting homesick as soon as I arrived at the small principality. 
But then again, maybe getting some time away from my life in London would do me good. Away from work, and Mr. Williamson, and Alec. I didn’t want to be the type of person that fled the country when they broke up with their partner, but I also knew that distance was my biggest ally at the time. I wasn’t completely sure how Mr. Williamson was gonna manage on his own while I lived elsewhere, but the thought of a quiet life for a few months in the quaint country was becoming more appealing by the second. 
I completely tuned out Mr. Vigna’s speech about the dimensions and characteristics of the track (not that I needed them, my father had made sure from a young age that I knew my blood was Ferrari red and Tifosi my middle name, although it certainly never was and it got us a very weird meeting with my elementary school headmaster after having written Tifosi as my middle name on several exams). If I had been paying more attention, I certainly would’ve noticed two familiar figures dressed in red polos walking toward us.
‘Charles! Carlos! Che bello che sei venuto!’ Mr. Vigna signaled the two men forward, and they quickly introduced themselves. (How nice that you came!)
‘¡Hola! Sono Carlos,’ Carlos Sainz Jr. extended his hand towards Mr. Williamson. (Hi! I’m Carlos.)
‘Nice to meet you,’ replied my boss, shaking his hand.
‘Hi,’ I smiled at him, trying to contain the excitement.
‘Hello,’ he gave me two kisses on both cheeks, and I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped my lips. 
‘Sorry, I’m a big fan,’ my face felt even warmer, but I still didn’t take my sunglasses off, the big black crystals at least hiding part of my cheeks.
Carlos laughed. ‘It’s alright, usually everyone that comes to Fiorano is,’ he winked, and moved aside.
I would be lying if I said I didn’t have favorites. I would also be lying if I said Charles Leclerc wasn’t one of them.
The slightly taller man stood right in front of me, smiling brightly. His head blocked the sun, allowing me to look at him in more detail as the rays fell around him, giving him an even bigger heavenly glow.
‘Ciao, I’m Charles,’ he too pressed two soft kisses on my cheeks, and I swear my heart stopped for a second when he came closer. (Hi.)
I took off my glasses and quickly introduced myself, hoping I didn’t sound like a lunatic gushing over her biggest celebrity crush standing right in front of her.
‘Ragazzi, l'intervistatore vi sta aspettando,’ a shorter woman came up behind the two drivers with a stressed look on her face. (Guys, the interviewer’s waiting for you.)
I frowned slightly, having the meeting cut short, but in hindsight, my heart was beating loudly in my ribcage out of nerves, and I didn’t want to make an even bigger fool of myself by standing there completely starstruck. 
They sadly left our group with a warm goodbye, and the rest of the day passed in a blur. 
Next thing I knew, I was on my bed, staring at the ceiling, failing to fall asleep due to the image of a pair of green eyes glistening in the sun embedded in my mind.
Next chapter
General taglist: @angiewhoohooo, @azaleaniath, @mishaandthebrits, @celestialcharles
130 notes · View notes
harveyhawkscripts · 11 months
Text
[A4A] Cuddling Your Half-Dragon Roommate [Modern Fantasy] [Roommates] [Insomnia Comfort]
AN: Welcome to the finale of Monsters for Mental Health May! Thank you to everyone who voted. Apologies if this one seems a bit rushed; I just got back from my trip and boy, are my arms tired! This one might be in the running for The Great Script Rewrite (pending). Anyway, please enjoy ^-^
Usage:
- Okay for monetization
- Please credit me as Harvey Hawk :)
- Tweaks, improv, and pronoun changes are okay! Just please do not rewrite the script completely.
Synopsis: In a modern fantasy setting, the listener has trouble sleeping due to insomnia. Their roommate, a tsundere half-dragon just back from a grueling double shift, helps them finally fall asleep. 
Google Doc
Key:
[SFX and Action]
(.) Short Pause
(...) Longer pause
(Voice instruction)
Word Count: 990
[Footsteps]
HALF-DRAGON
(Exhausted) Ugghh... Gods, I hate evening shift. 'M always dead afterwards.
[Muffled TV noises]
[Footsteps stop]
Tch, really? They left the TV on again? They're so damn absent-minded.
[Door unlocks, opens, closes, and locks again]
(Surprised) Oi. The hell are you doing up? It's, like, two AM. Don't you have commissions due?
(.)
How could I not? You haven't shut up about it.
(.)
(Slightly irritated) Yeah, well. I do listen. And I would like to not listen to that damn TV all night. So, shut it off and go to bed.
[TV turns off]
(.)
I don't care if you sleep or not, just go to your room and be quiet. I just had a shift from the depths of hell and if I don't get some rest, I'm going to lose my shit.
(.)
Listen. You're my roommate, so I tolerate you to an extent. But you do not want to get between a dragon and their sleep.
(.)
(Growls) Half dragon. Quit nitpicking! What is your deal tonight? You're normally so chill - which is why I chose you as my roommate by the way - the hell is your damage?!
(.)
Oh, for fu- there's nothing to be scared of! I put up wards! You know I did!
Look, if I check the magic wards, will you finally let me rest?
(.)
Fine, I'll put one on your door.C'mon.
[Footsteps]
(Whispers) Tu...tela
[Claws scraping on wood]
There. Go to bed.
(.)
Then get a glass of water. Quietly. Goodnight.
(Sigh) What is it now?
(.)
There are blankets in the closet. Problem solved.
(.)
What?! What more could you possibly want?!
(.)
(Sigh) Shit.
Look, don't - I didn't mean - I ... Ugh. I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't have yelled. I just... I had an awful day at work.
(.)
No, you're right; it's not an excuse. I'm sorry. But I'm too tired for guessing games right now. Why don't you want to go to bed?
(.)
Insomnia...You never told me about that.
(.)
Uh, because I'm your roommate? You ever think that you being up all hours of the night might affect my sleep schedule?
(.)
No, I'm not going to find another roommate. I don't want another roommate. Idiot. I'm going to help you.
(.)
What do you usually do when you can't sleep?
(.)
Suffer? Shit, okay. No wonder you act so out-of-it. You're always tired.
(.)
You do too! You leave the peanut butter out and I always have to nag you to get your clothes out of the dryer. I just figured you were an airhead.
(.)
You're still a hell of a lot better than other roommates I've had. At least you haven't set anything on fire... yet.
(.)
Heh, sorry. But seriously. Going too long without sleep isn't healthy, dingus. Next time something's bothering you, just come to me, got it?
(.)
Yeah, really. I don't keep you around for the hell of it, you know.
(.)
It means... Well, it means....
(.)
(Growl) Don't make me say it!
(.)
Obviously I like you, idiot! I wouldn't live with you if I didn't. I... enjoy being your roommate. And if something's wrong, you need to come to me for help.
(.)
Because I said so! Anyway... let's find a way to get you to sleep.
(.)
Nah, I don't have any sleep magic. Not my thing. We might have some tea in the back of the cupboard.
(.)
Already had some, hm? Okay. Have you tried a warm bath?
(.)
Alright, check that off the list. Oh, I know! There are these, uh, audio stories for sleep online. Like, narrations and stuff. What about that?
(.)
Not even that works. Damn. Uh... Well, do you know what's causing your insomnia? Stress? Maybe you eat too much junk. I know you have a sweet tooth.
(.)
Huh? What'd ya say?
(.)
Scared and what? Little louder.
(.)
Lonely...? Ah. Oh. Hmph. Well...
(.)
(Hesitantly) Maybe I can... stay in your room. On the floor. If it means I can sleep.
(.)
Where the hell else would I sleep?
(.)
D-don't be ridiculous! Why would - I mean, you - I can't sleep in your bed!
(.)
Because that's - we aren't dating. It'd be weird. Besides, you probably kick in your sleep.
(.)
Oh, yeah, you totally do. I can tell.
(.)
Aw, c'mon. Don't give me those eyes.
(.)
(Growls) ....Fine. But kick me once and I'm going back to my room. Now c'mon. I just finished a double shift and I'm about to pass out.
[Door opens]
Um. What the hell? Where am I supposed to sleep?
(.)
I mean your bed is overrun with stuffed animals. I don't know how you expect to fit on there, let alone the both of us.
(.)
Look, if you want me to sleep with - uh, next to you, then you need to shove some of these things aside.
(.)
(Sarcastic) Sorry. Friends. You'll need to shove some of these friends aside.
(.)
A little more.
(.)
There.
[Blankets shift]
Go to sleep, roomie.
[Blankets shift]
[Blankets shift]
[Blankets shift]
Be. Still.
(.)
(Sigh) What's wrong?
(.)
Yeah, well, there isn't room for me and your big teddy. Cuddle one of your smaller plushies.
(.)
Arm support? Geez, you're so high-maintenance. Fine. Come here.
(.)
Because I'm letting you wrap an arm around me. Obviously.
(.)
Yeah, I'm sure. Get over here.
[Blankets shift]
(.)
Of course I'm warm. I'm a half-dragon.
(.)
Quit fidgeting. Just... curl up to my chest.
(.)
There, comfortable?
(.)
Good.
(.)
Nah, it's not weird. It's actually... nice. Heh, your breath kinda tickles.
(.)
It doesn't bother me. Go to sleep, roomie.
(.)
You're still tense.
(.)
Hey, it's okay. How about this? Let me trace my claws down your back real gentle... There, just focus on how that feels. I'm going to wrap my tail around you now. Like a weighted blanket.
(.)
There we go. I've gotcha.
(.)
Gettin' sleepy?
(.)
Good. Hey, before you go to sleep I gotta tell you something. It's important.
(.)
You totally owe me breakfast in the morning. I'm thinking pancakes.
(.)
(Chuckles) Okay, okay. I'll help make it.
(.)
...Yeah, I can stay with you tomorrow night, too.
(.)
Goodnight, roomie.
END
10 notes · View notes
Note
Hi Again! I was wondering if you wrote for the clones? (I'm thirsting for Wolffe!!) If not, that's ok! And if so, I thought maybe something fluffy and a bit hot with Wolffe? I'm a huge sucker for the trope- Reader tries to hide that she hasn't been feeling well and turns out she's pregnant? With twins! She's scared because even though they're committed, it wasn't planned? And then fluff and some love making?? <3333
Hi lovely, welcome back! I am open to writing for the clones, I just haven’t done so yet! I too thirst for Commander Wolffe so you’re in luck! This trope is def very cute, the end turned out more fluffy than spicy, I hope that's alright.
Commander Wolffe x fem!reader Rating: E (18+) Warnings: explicit sexual content, unprotected p in v sex, unplanned pregnancy, swearing (first time writing for Wolffe, may be slightly ooc)
[PART TWO]
Tumblr media
There was never enough time. You really should not have been surprised by the revelation, you were at war, but it still sat heavy on your chest. Always needed elsewhere as soon as you completed a mission. Never time to rest, even in transit. Someone always needed your attention for reports, strategic planning or council meetings as the GAR cruiser hurtled through hyperspace. It never left you enough time for him. Thankfully, the stubborn nature of your clone commander allowed him to make time, even if just a spare moment, for the two of you.
“Oh fuck,” you throw your head back against the door as he reaches that spot deep inside you. Pushing you ever closer to the edge. “Wolffe, please-” you’re whining as he grinds up into you, throbbing inside you. He’s always had the uncanny ability to read your body, he knows better than you when you’re close to bliss and he enjoys drawing it out. To think Commander Wolffe was a fucking tease.
“Please what, cyare?” His smug grin slides across your chest following the trail of marks he’s littered across your skin where no one will see. “What does ner jetii need?”
“Please, ‘m so close,” you tighten your legs around his waist, trying to draw him in closer, anything to reach your release, “please, Wolffe!”
He groans into your neck as you tug at the curls fallen loose at the nape of his neck, “well when you ask so nicely, cyare.”
His sudden thrust up pushes the air from your lungs. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream as he pounds into you, all teasing forgotten. He’s relentless as you tighten around him, the coil in your belly threatening to snap.
“That’s it,” he grunts, “come on my cock ner jetii.”
His words and his gloved thumb brushing over your bundle of nerves has you falling apart around him. White hot pleasure rolls over you, leaving you a limp, moaning mess in Wolffe’s arms.
“That’s it, mesh’la. Squeezing me so kriffing tight,” he groans, hips stuttering, his own release fast approaching. “Fuck.” Wolffe manages a few more thrusts before he buries himself in you, spilling himself inside you. Whispered praises fall from his lips as he comes down from his own high. His lips ghost over yours in a chaste kiss as he withdraws, tucking himself away before he lets you down.
Your legs cry out in relief when they meet solid ground, not longer clinging to Wolffe for support.
“Good, cyare?” his hand sweeps over your brow, so tender for a man with such a fierce reputation, even amongst his brothers.
“Mhmm,” leaning into his touch, he chuckles at your blissed out expression.
“Someone’s bound to come looking for you soon, General. Let’s get you cleaned up.” You don’t protest as he helps you redress, though you do moan about how unfair it was he just had to remove his codpiece and you had to strip completely out of your robes for these little storage closet rendezvous’.
“I don’t think jedi robes were designed to allow for easy access, cyare.”
You pout, “you’re probably right.” There was that whole bit about no attachments you were blatantly ignoring after all.
Before the commander can come back with another sharp retort your commlink blinks to life. “Yes?”
“General, General Plo is looking for you on the bridge.”
You sigh, “thank you, Sinker. I’ll be right there.”
Never enough time.
.
The next couple of months continue much the same. You and Wolffe sneaking away between missions when you can, trying to find solace in each other despite all the horrors you both see on the battlefield. In a war that seems to stretch on forever he is your rock. As he watches his brothers fall, one after the other, you are his comfort. It breaks your heart to be apart from him but there is little you can do to control it. When the council requests you to join Obi-wan and Anakin for a series of missions you cannot object. Instead, you drag your tired self out to the far reaches of the outer rim to help them as best you can.
“You look exhausted, my dear.” Such tact this one possessed.
You roll your eyes, “you don’t look much better, Kenobi.” Though you doubt he has been waking in the middle of the night to empty the contents of his stomach like you have for the past week.
“This war does seem to be pushing us all to our limits.”
“I’ll race you!” Ahsoka sprints by, apparently headed for some target or another with her master hot on her heels.
“Snips!”
Cody chuckles under his bucket, shaking his head as the two disappear into the distance.
Obi-Wan scrubs a hand over his face, “it’s pushed most of us to our limits.”
“What I wouldn’t give to have the energy of a padawan again,” you groan.
“I agree wholeheartedly,” Obi-wan nods, “we should all try to get some rest while we can. We need to break camp near dawn.”
You agree and bid your fellow jedi an early goodnight. With the headache you could feel coming on, sleep sounded like a good idea. As you go to stand the world spins around you, any sense of balance you had gone. You reach for the crate you had been sitting on to try and stay upright but you miss by a mile. Knees giving out you collapse to the floor, the world around you still spinning. You can barely hear Cody shouting over the ringing in your ears.
“Call for a medic! The General’s collapsed!”
.
By the time you regain consciousness you’re no longer planet side. Obi-wan had been quick to have you medevacked to the closest med-station for testing. The unholy white lights of the station burn your eyes when you finally come to. Your sudden groaning draws Kix back to your bedside.
“General. Good to see you’re back with us.”
“Kix?” You try to focus on the 501st medic instead of the bright lights, “what happened?”
“You collapsed back at the forward camp. We weren’t able to determine what was wrong with the limited medical supplies we had on hand, so General Kenobi called an air lift for you.”
Another groan bubbles up, Obi-wan had been forced to waster precious resources on you. “Were you able to find out what’s wrong?”
The clone’s face falls, “yes.”
You’ve never heard the medic sound so meek before. “Kix?”
“I’m not sure what’s the best way to explain this, General… but you’re pregnant.”
Oh.
Oh.
“H-how far along?”
“Looks like just over two months,” Kix shifts from foot to foot, pointedly not looking you in the eye. You can’t blame him for being uncomfortable, this isn’t quite the medicine he’d been expecting to practice. He was a combat medic not an obgyn. “We were able to get an ultrasound, would you like to see?”
Nodding, you sit up, your head now spinning for completely different reasons. Kix brings you a datapad displaying the grainy black and white image.
“Kix… am I seeing this right?”
“Yes, general.”
“There’s two…”
“Yes general. You’re having twins.”
Oh fuck.
.
Kix is a godsend, having worked with Anakin and Rex long enough to know reporting everything may not always be a good idea. The official report on your sudden collapse reads that you suffered from a foreign infection your body had not been prepared to fight, coupled with the battle fatigue, your body had shut down in order to force you to rest. Obi-wan and the council believe it, ordering you back to Coruscant to recover and rest. You knew you would have to tell them; it would not be long until you were showing, but you would much rather deal with the council in person than from your medbay bed.
Before your escort arrives, Kix slips you a disk with a copy of the ultrasound pictures, “in case there’s someone you want to show them to.”
“Thank you, Kix,” he blushes when you give him a quick peck on the cheek, “you’ve done more for me than you’ll ever know.”
You do your best to rest on your trip back to Coruscant but its incredibly difficult when your mind is going a parsec a minute. Besides the council there’s one other person you have to break the news to. While you two had talked about what life would be like for the two of you after the war, this was not something you had discussed. You were not sure if Wolffe wanted kids ever, let alone now. Having twins while the whole galaxy was at war was not ideal. Not when the two of you were expected to put your lives on the line for the Republic.
Panic washes over you when you arrive at the capital to find the wolfpack waiting for you on the tarmac. They’d just arrived back for some long overdue shore leave and Plo had informed them of your sudden illness. Normally you would be touched by how much they cared for you, but now all you can think about is how you are not ready to face Wolffe. Not yet.
You can feel his gaze heavy on your back as you field Sinker and Boost’s barrage of questions.
“I’ll be alright, I just need to take my medicine and get some rest. It shouldn’t be long before I’m right as rain again.” You hate lying to them, but you did not want them worrying unnecessarily either.
It seems to appease them; the pack wishes you well and invites you out to 79’s with them as soon as you’re recovered. Wolffe hangs back, watching his brothers go.
“I’ll walk you back, general.”
“No.” It comes out much harsher than you’d like. The surprise that washes over his face feels like a stab to your gut. “There’s no need, Commander. I’ll be alright.”
His voice drops, brow furrowed together, “cyare?”
“Not now, Wolffe,” you frown, “I just need to go lay down. We’ll talk later.”
But you don’t. You cannot find it in yourself to answer any of his calls or messages over the next few days. Instead, you wrap yourself up in as many blankets as possible and hole up in your quarters while you try to figure out what to do. You watch Coruscant go by from your window. It’s only when Sinker and Boost call that you’re freed from running around in circle inside your head.
“Boost? Sinker? What’s going on?”
“Oh thank goodness you’re alive, General!”
“Boost what are you going on about?”
“The Commanders been going crazy! He hasn’t heard from you in over a week and we don’t think he knows how to handle it!”
Although you and Wolffe did your best to keep your relationship hidden, in such tight quarters it was hard to keep it from Wolffe’s brothers. You’d never outright admitted it to them, but you figured they understood what was going on. You were glad for it now.
“I’ve seen him pace before, but never like this,” Sinker adds.
Oh Maker. “Where is he?”
“The barracks, General.”
“I… I’ll speak with him, alright? Hopefully that will calm him down.”
“Thank you, General! We were running out of ways to distract him!” That was the kind way of saying ways to annoy him to keep Wolffe’s mind off you.
“Thank you, Boost, Sinker.”
“Good luck, General!”
You were going to need it. This was not a conversation to have over the com so you make your way down to the barracks, doing your best to avoid attention when you can. It was not like you weren’t allowed there, but the last thing you needed was more questions.
Boost and Sinker were not lying about the pacing. Punching in the access code to his quarters reveals a tightly wound Wolffe, pacing back and forth across the length if the tight space. His armor has been haphazardly discarded around the room. You’re surprised he hasn’t worn a path into the floor yet.
“General?” Surprise and then relief fall over his face when he catches you standing in the doorway.
“Wolffe, I-”
“What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be resting.”
You’re thrown off by the sudden cold tone in his voice. “I-I came to explain, Wolffe… to apologize.”
“Apologize?”
“I’ve been avoiding you Wolffe,” your voice cracks despite your best efforts to remain calm, “and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have, I just needed to find a way to tell you and I couldn’t.”
His frown deepens, “tell me what?”
“That I’m pregnant.”
“What?” He looks at you live you’ve grown another head.
“I’m pregnant, Wolffe.”
It takes him a moment to wrap his mind around your words, but you can see the instant he does, his mouth dropping into an ‘o’ as his jaw falls slack.
“You’re pregnant? With my… with my baby?”
“Babies,” you correct.
His brain seems to sputter out again, “babies?”
You nod, “twins.”
Before you can blink, he’s got you wrapped up in his arms, spinning you around the room. “Twins. You’re having twins.”
It takes everything you have not to start bawling. Kriffing hormones. You’ve never seen Wolffe this happy. This was beyond any reaction you could have imagined. The awe on his face when he sets you down makes your heart melt.
“This is why you were sent back? Your sudden illness?”
“Well yes… but Kix’s report was that I had an infection. I wanted to talk to your first before anyone else. I just didn’t know how.”
His warm hand oh-so-gently cups the side of your face. You lean into the touch. After even just a few weeks apart you’re starving for him.
“Why were you worried, cyare?”
“We’d never talked about kids. And we’re in the middle of a war. Not to mention we’re not even supposed to be together on the first place… I didn’t know how you’d react…”
His face softens, his amber eye drifting down to your nonexistent bump. “I’ll admit, I’m surprised. It may not be how either of us hoped, but it is a pleasant surprise.”
“Really?”
“Really, cyare.” You cannot help but smile as he pulls you in for a kiss. His lips slanting against your own as he holds you close. “I know there may be somethings we need to work out, but we’ll take it one step at a time,” he murmurs against your lips, hands tracing patterns across your back. “We’ll figure it out together.”
241 notes · View notes
lyntonier · 3 years
Text
A train to Paris
Carmen Sandiego x Gray Calloway
Summary: Carmen is taking a break away from her work — helping out at the Orphanage and fighting crime — and decides to take a trip back to Paris, a location she quite enjoyed. During her journey she meets a familiar face she believed she would not see again.
A/N: This is set after season 4.
"So Carms, I hear you are off to Paris for the week huh?"
I smile into the phone, listening to Ivy's comment.
"You heard correct. Well, assuming nothing goes wrong, that is".
I had gotten a break from working at the Orphanage with my Madre, so I decided to take myself on a little trip. We had finally met about eleven months ago, and I had been helping around as much as I possibly could without a break. Well, I tell a lie, I had a couple days free from working with Madre, though I used those days to check for any crime around. I guess some habits die hard huh, this was meant to be my new start but I can't seem to leave fighting crime behind. It was my choice to work so much at the Orphanage though.
Madre had had enough and told me to take a week away and go someplace, so where better than Paris? The beauty of the city when the sun goes down and the lights come on again, the food, the art and architecture, the history, it's simply something I cannot forget. It's truly a once in a lifetime thing.
"Wow, I'm so jealous! I wish I could be there with you, it would be so much fun- Zack stop! Leave Julia alone. No- She probably does NOT appreciate that, so quit it... Yes, you, who else?!.......... Sorry Carms, it's Zach trying to flirt with Julia again".
Giggling at Ivy's scolding to her brother, I make a mental note to tease him about that when I next see him. He kept flirting with the poor woman, to which she would politely laugh and make an excuse to leave.
"No worries Ivy, it's alright. I must admit though, I do feel sorry for Julia in some respects".
"I know right! Gosh, he's so oblivious sometimes. I love him anyway though, no matter how much of a douche brain he is".
"It would be nice to be able to meet up with all of you again, it's been a while since I saw all of you properly. You'll have to let me know when you two both have some time off and I'll get hold of Shadowsan and Player, then we can all have a nice catch-up".
I hear Ivy sigh wistfully into the phone, light laughter leaving her lips.
"Honestly Carms, that seems like such a good idea right about now. I'm so tired with work, I got called out five times within the past two days, three of which were last night. I've not had a nice snooze in for ages and I could do with one right about now, haha."
"You do sound quite tired. When do you get off shift?"
"Uuuh, hold on....... Forty-five minutes, then I can go home".
"Well, you should treat yourself to a warm bubble bath and a long rest".
"I think I'll take that one and do just that. Ah- I've got to shoot, Cheif is calling for me. I'll call you tomorrow and we can talk more, yeah?"
"Yes, wouldn't miss it for the world. Tell the others I said hello for me? And I'll work on arranging a girls trip between you and me to somewhere, just let me know where you fancy going".
"Oh you're a star Carm, I'll be looking forward to that then. I'll decide tonight and let you know tomorrow, and I'll pass on your 'hellos' to the others. Talk soon Carm".
I smile into the phone, mildly disappointed that our conversation had to end so soon.
"Talk soon Ivy".
With that, I hear the beep of an ended call as Ivy hangs up the line. A sudden wave of exhaustion washes over me as I move my phone down to my lap, checking the time. It was 1:15 in the morning. Raising my eyebrows, I nod at my phone, surprised at how late it was. I should probably try to get some sleep as I'll be arriving at my stop in about seven hours from now and I would much prefer to not be falling asleep at every given moment.
Setting my phone down next to myself, I grab a blanket out of my carry bag and drape it over my lap, removing my jumper and folding it into four before placing it onto the seat to my left. Reaching up above myself, I pull a cord that turned off the lights in my little train booth, engulfing myself in darkness. The only form of light that I had at this stage was the gentle light from the moon, it would be full soon. Laying down, I place my head onto my jumper and pull my blanket up higher, closing my eyes and relaxing my body.
Right as I began to doze off, I felt a strange feeling of wariness make itself known in my gut, enticing me to sit up and evaluate my surroundings. Within a couple of seconds of having my eyes open, I heard a light tapping on my booth door. Someone was there. Averting my eyes to the glass section of the door, I keep my body motionless as I trace the figure with my eyes and their every possible movement.
If I stayed still then they would not see me and assume I was sleeping and most likely leave.
*tap, tap, tap*
"Excuse me, uh, I know you are awake.. can I come in? My booth has no heating and it's really cold out here".
Or maybe not.
Cautiously eyeing the door, I slowly raise myself from the seats and brace my hand into a fist, ready to fight off a possible threat. Standing tall, I cautiously step my way over to the door before grasping the cool metal handle with one hand and undoing a lock with the other. Twisting the handle, I edge the door open bit by bit.
"Hello... Um.. yes you may".
It was a man, not that much taller than me, and Australian. Or perhaps Kiwi. I couldn't see many of his facial features, other than the fact that he had a man bun and a couple bags with him. I wracked my brain for any vocal recognitions, however, nothing matched.
Standing aside, I made room for the strange man to come inside.
"Cheers mate, sorry 'bout how odd this is. I went to the train staff to ask about the heating and they told me that the booth I chose was meant to be closed, though the person on duty of closing it off didn't get around to it, hence me choosing the unlucky booth. They told me I would have to ask to share booths with somebody else seen as though all others are booked, and I saw your light go out, so I came here. Sorry and cheers again".
The man laughed, rubbing what I assumed was the back of his neck. His explanation seemed pretty truthful and his reasoning honest.
"That's no problem, sorry that you got a faulty booth, that must've sucked".
"Hah, tell me 'bout it" He joked.
Smiling, I close the door and return to my seat, watching as he put his bags in the overhead luggage area, leaving out a blanket of his own. Smart man.
"So, what's your name mate?"
"Carmen. And you?"
I see him whip his head around, before shaking it and laughing lightly.
"I had a friend called Carmen, though I've not seen her in a long time. My name is Grah-Grayson. Grayson".
I raise my eyebrow at his stutter, smirking lightly.
"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you Grah-Grayson" I tease.
"Haha, as to you Carmen".
With that, we both fell silent, just basking in the pleasant atmosphere of the booth with the same idea of sleep on our minds.
Slipping back into my 'bed', I pull my blankets back over myself and close my eyes, listening carefully at everything around me. I hear some stuffing around, something dropping on the floor, followed by a second something, more shuffling, then a satisfied sigh. Peering over my shoulder, I see the outline of a body laying on the seat across from mine.
"Did you just take your shoes off?"
"Hm? Ah yeah mate, can't sleep with shoes on, that's just crazy".
Grah-Grayson laughs at his own statement, finding humour in my question.
I feel my lips draw into a thin line as I shuffle my feet around awkwardly, my shoes very much still on.
Am I crazy?
"G'd'night mate, thanks again for letting me in on such short notice".
"No, no, that's fine. Goodnight".
It felt strange saying goodnight to a stranger, though I had most definitely done stranger.
I feel my eyes shoot open rather rapidly, my heart pounding against my ribcage as I scramble to sit upright, taking in my surroundings eagerly before eyeing the strange man in the booth with me. I check the room once again for anything out of the ordinary, before removing the blanket from my body and standing, striding my way over the door and yanking it open silently and slipping out, closing it behind myself. I needed some fresh air.
Making my way to the end of the train, I open a door that leads to a small balcony attached to the carriage. Immediately the wind hits me, blowing my hair to the side.
Sucking in a deep breath of air, I relax my shoulders and close my eyes. I had a nightmare — rather a memory — that Coach Brunt had broken into my booth and tied me up, much like before, and decided that enough was enough and planned to end things then and there.
A pretty sad nightmare, huh.
I enjoy the breeze a little longer before turning around and opening the door, walking back into the train carriage and back to my booth. Opening the door, I am surprised to see Grah-Grayson awake and sat upright, watching out of the window at the scenery. It was early for him to be awake, it was about five in the morning and the sun had begun rising, casting a gentle glow in the booth.
"Ah, mate, there you are, are you alr-......."
The words leave his mouth as he stares at me in surprise, horror, happiness, sadness and recognition... a mix of everything. Exactly what I was feeling.
Tears fill my eyes as I gaze at the male before me. It couldn't be...
"G-Gray?"
"Black sheep..?."
Grah-Grayson stands up, tears in his own eyes as he stares at me intently.
Stepping forward, I feel my arms raising slightly and before I knew it I was lunging for him, sobs wreaking through my lips as tears flowed heavily from my eyes. Engulfing him in my arms, I feel him do the same with just as much ferocity. I hear sobs come from him too, his chest rising and falling quickly and sharply with each gasp of air.
Before anything could be said, I feel anger suddenly wash over me, leading me to remove my arms from around him and shove him away harshly, placing some distance between us.
A confused whimper leaves his mouth, clearly unintentionally, but before he could say anything I let months worth of hurt, confusion, upset and anger form into words and flow out freely.
"Gray where were you?! W-What did you mean 'don't tell her' that you woke up!! Do you know how long I waited for you to wake up in the hospital, unable to see you or hear from you, not knowing that you had long gone?! Do you- Do you know how long I WAITED fOR YOU? Three months Gray- three months that you were gone and I was waiting for you to wake up so that we could start over, so that I could know you were okay!" The words kept flowing out, no matter how much I tried to stop them. Although I didn't try. I couldn't bring myself to try. I started pacing back and forth as I rambled, making sure the emphasis on certain words came out.
"Carmen, let me explain, I-"
I cut him off, anger still clouding my better judgement.
"NO Gray, you don't get to explain until you hear me!! I searched EVERYWHERE for days, weeks, months for you, thinking that something had happened to you, only to be told by Chief that you had requested to not have your condition or whereabouts revealed to me! Why Gray, why..? If you were angry or upset at me and didn't want to see me, you could have just told me instead of making me worry like that! I spent so many nights awake trying to find out where you were with the help of Player, but nothing!! NOTHING!"
I heave out everything that has been resting on my shoulders, the feeling of relief evident on my shoulders as a weight had been lifted.
"Carmen I was never upset at you, more of I was upset at myself. It was my fault that you had been captured and lured in, I knew what was happening and I could have prevented it, but I didn't. I blamed myself for you being brainwashed and hurt, and for myself being hurt. I was such an idiot and I didn't want to do something that could hurt you again-"
"And yet you did.." I remark with a whisper, adverting my eyes as I crossed my arms over my chest, hugging myself and sniffling as I did so.
"I know and I'm sorry... I didn't want to interfere with your life, not after everything that had happened. VILE was caught and disbanded, you had information on your mother, everything was over and you had a fresh start ahead of you and I didn't want to get in the way of that. So, I changed my identity and lived away from the public eye, hidden away where you could not find me. It wasn't just a fresh start for you, it was one for me too... I asked for you to not be told of my departure, even though Cheif strongly suggested against it, the same with that Julia lady. I told them it was my only request, and they allowed it eventually. I now realise that wasn't a good idea and that it hurt you much more than I believed it could or would... I am so sorry Carmen.. I really am so, incredibly sorry.. I can't blame you if you are angry at me, I gue-"
"Of course I'm angry at you!! I finally realised after all of that time that I was in love with you, and I was prepared to tell you, only to find that you were gone! Those three months left in the dark were pure heaven compared to the.. the shitty, crappy, horrible feelings once I found out you were gone!"
I watch as Gray's eyes widen in surprise, as he stutters his next sentence, his face flushed from tears, much like my own.
"C-Carmen.. you- what did you just.. what did you just say?"
"That I realised after all of this time that I was in love with you, so very incredibly in love with you, and that I was prepared to tell you!" I growl.
We both stand there in silence, the cool feeling of my tears drying up on my face present. Sudden realisation dawns upon me at what I had just boldly announced. Smacking my hand over my mouth, I gasp, my eyes widening as the realisation finally sets in completely.
Nothing is said between us as we just stare one another in the eyes, waiting for the other to speak.
"Gray, I-"
I cut myself short as Gray abruptly strides towards me confidently, raising his hands to cup my cheeks as I step back, unsure of what was happening. Staring down into my eyes, Gray smiles gently.
"You always were a cheeky one, sneaking your way into my heart the way you did".
My stomach fills with butterflies at that, a small smile making its way onto my face, accompanied by little giggles. Soon enough, I was laughing uncontrollably into Gray's chest, him onto my shoulder.
The laughter died down soon after, we were just left with warm smiles on our faces.
Moving his hand across my face, his thumb stroking my cheek and his other hand caressed the back of my neck, he looks down at my lips before looking into my eyes.
"May I?"
That one sentence had my stomach doing flips as though I were a schoolgirl who just confessed her undying love to her crush and received the same feelings back, though I guess in some respects I was that schoolgirl, just a little older.
"You may".
With that, Gray leans down, pressing his lips gently against mine and pulling away. I did not feel those fireworks that people would describe a true-loves kiss as, rather I felt complete, safe, happy, joyous, excited, calm, at peace and so many more pleasant things, much better than those so described fireworks.
Leaning in for a second kiss, I met Gray halfway with just as much passion, more ferocity this time, however. Soon though, we had to depart for air, a gentle blush growing over both of our cheeks.
"Carmen, I-"
"Excuse me, are you two alright in there? I could faintly hear you arguing from next door".
Looking behind me, there was an older woman stood in the doorway, a concerned look on her face.
"Yes, we are alright madame, thank you for your concern. Sorry for the noise, everything is sorted now" I explain, turning to face the woman.
"Very well then, there is no need to apologise my dear, as long as you are both okay. Oh, and sorry for interrupting your moment"
The lady giggles cheekily, before making her way back to her booth while rambling on about young love, or something along the lines.
"We should probably close the door, no?"
"Yes, we should. You, mister, have a lot to explain to me, especially what you have been up to since we last saw one another".
I smile as I leave Grays embrace, walking to the door and closing it.
"As do you. We have a while till we reach my destination, so shall we?"
"Hmm... I say sleep and then explain at a later time, on a date perhaps?"
"Friday, 8PM at Au Vieux Paris d'Arcole?" Grey wiggles his eyebrows, a smile on his face as he does so.
Laughter bubbles in my throat as I sniffle, wiping away any tear streams on my face as I nod my head eagerly.
"Call it a date".
A/N: This is my first ever oneshot/story piece that I've done on here and I honestly do not know how good it is, or how bad it is. All I can hope is that it's decent. It was inspired by @wizardsoffthecoast who had mentioned something about this, so here we are. I hope you enjoy it!
(I do apologise for any spelling mistakes!)
41 notes · View notes
flowerwrites06 · 3 years
Text
break my mind’s eye IX — jjk
Tumblr media
Plot: Jungkook thinks marriage is the only way to seal a deal.
Pairing(s): Druglord!Jungkook x Fashion Designer!OC (Name: Belle)
Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+
Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series
Parts: Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Special 
Word Count: 9k+
Genre: Mafia | Angst/Smut/Fluff
Tags & Warnings (for entire series): drug dealing, marriage through trickery, explicit smut, drug use, dubious consent, prostitution, miscarriage, lots of manipulation, impregnation through manipulation 
Tumblr media
Three Months Later
In the deep quiet hour of the night, Belles’ stomach jolted her awake to a dark room. For a moment, when her bearings were not quite right, fear settled as if she transported to a strange place. Quickly turning her gaze there laid Jungkook with his back facing up and an arm around her torso. For the first time she let out a sigh of relief seeing the man’s face knowing that her location was at least familiar.
It became all too familiar now. Yoongi pretty much moved in as their own private medic despite his knowledge on medicine being phoned advice from an actual doctor. Belle did not protest however, having the male close by helped dealing with these past few months. Nausea every single morning, cramps in every single place that had the potential to do so while a lingering worry that she would have to see her child grow up in a world full of betrayal and pain.
Right now her stomach grumbled for a different reason. Looking down, Belle could slowly notice a more prominent swell poking out from her white cotton night gown with Jungkooks’ toned arm gently over it as if to shield it somehow. Once again she felt a rumble and the thought of chocolates brushed her mind.
“Jungkook…” Belle whispered, squeezing his arm a little. When the male didn’t respond she shook him softly. “Jungkook wake up.”
Jungkook shifted with a drawling hum under his breath, one eye opened momentarily before exhaustion pulled him in again and he closed it. “What is it?” He spoke into the pillow.
She slowly pushed herself to a sited position as his loose arm slid onto her thighs. “I want ice-cream.”
“What?” His brows furrowed automatically despite his eyes still comfortably shut.
“What you big boss men never heard of ice-cream?” Belle caressed his forearm which really only helped him fall asleep more.
With a light groan, Jungkook moved his arms to prop himself up enough for both his eyes to open and scan the room. Turning around he glanced over to check the time on the phone. “Baby, it’s 2 in the morning.” He mumbled attempting to meet her gaze but sleep was even more stubborn, most of his curls either sticking to his face or up to the ceiling.
Hand caressed over her swollen belly with a slight pout across her lips. “There’s late night ice-cream parlors.” Belle muttered under her breath without giving him a glance.
Jungkooks’ eyes immediately flickered down to where she affectionately brushed over her cute belly. Clearly it was not only her cravings he had been stirred awake to satisfy. Sighing, he forced himself to sit up properly as one of his hands attempted to brush his hair down. “Alright…”
Belle couldn’t help the accomplished smirk tugged at her lips as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed to walk to the wardrobe. Although the slight heaviness caused more of a waddle than a proper walk. “Make sure to wear your mask, it’s cold.” And their faces were all too recognizable nowadays especially after the wedding. Three months had already gone by but it made more relevant than ever in the media making it harder to keep this pregnancy as secret as possible.
He hummed in agreement tapping a name on his phone before pressing it to his ear. “Jongho, put in the address of the closest late night ice cream parlor in the sedan.” Jungkooks’ voice still rung raspy from sleep as his hand rubbed his eyes to make himself more alert.
“A-I’m sorry could you repeat that sir?” Jongho asked politely, stammering a little.
“The closest late night ice-cream parlor.” He enunciated his words as dramatically yet clearly as he could.
“An–an ice-cream parlor?”
“Yeah you never heard of an ice-cream parlor before?”
Jongho cleared his throat lightly. “Yes, sir sorry I’ll—I’ll bring the car in right away.”
Belle pushed the sleeves off her shoulder, letting the gown easily drop to the ground leaving her in the slight cold air. Eyes quickly settled on any piece of comfortable warm clothing she could find. Grey sweat pants, loose T-shirt and a soft pink hoodie which let her body relish back into the embrace of heat.
Jungkook walked into the wardrobe squinting in the bright light, pausing in his tracks for a moment as he watched Belle put on a pink mask that pleasantly matched her hoodie. The corner of his lips twitched up looking at how much more comfortable she looked, possibly even more than she did in the night gown. Rare it was to see Belle in such a relaxed state when the woman spent most of her days looking perfectly presentable.
Making his way to corner, he quickly pulled on some black sweatpants with a hoodie and mask while noticing Belle tapping on a moisturizer on her skin with her mask hugging the underside of her chin. “Trying to look pretty for the ice cream?” Jungkook mused.
“You saying I don’t look pretty already, Mr. Jeon?”
“Positively glowing.”
“You’re good at flattering, I’ll give you that.” Belle chuckled, exiting the wardrobe towards the main bedroom, her arms automatically hugging her stomach.
Jungkook couldn’t help but smile as he rushed over to her side, placing a hand on the small of her back.
Through the doors of the bedroom, Belle immediately say Nana pad over with the deep red blanket in her arms. “You’re already warmed up.” She chuckled before handing over the thick and small fabric. “It’s a little tradition thing but it was Jungkooks’ when he was a baby. Good to keep over the belly when you leave the house.”
Belle accepted the blanket with a smile, an odd tingle down her spin at the realization of how small Jungkook used to be. A little being full of wonder who smiled at random things before reality destroyed every remnant. “It might be colder outside who knows.” She tried to reassure the older woman somehow.
“Thank you.” Jungkook lightly squeezed her shoulder as they walked past the woman who bowed with a smile in response.
Jongho already stood at the edge of the entrance to the living room, bowing as soon as he saw the couple. “Your car is ready. The drive to the ice-cream parlor will be about fifteen minutes.” He announced though he still felt like this whole thing was part of some prank.
“Thank you, Jongho.” Belle grinned, almost skipping past the guard in glee.
“You know I’m the one driving to the parlor right?” Jungkook sassed, a brow jolting up.
“Well you’re the father, honey, it’s your job.” Belle walked towards the entrance as the guards opened them like some grandiose banquet.
Black sedan shone like a beetle under the moonlight when they reached outside. Crisp nightly air flowed through even their warm clothing except for the blanket Belle hugged around her belly.
Jungkook opened the door for the woman letting her climb in carefully before walking over to his side. It had been a while since he went on a drive for something so leisure and relaxed. He couldn’t help but feel a rush of content maybe even a little excitement at this spontaneous late night trip.
As he sat in the car reacquainting himself with all the controls, Jungkook noticed from the corners of his eye how delicately Belle placed the blanket over her belly as if she was tucking it goodnight.
Then they drove off.
Fifteen minutes stretched out a little longer than Jungkook expected but eventually they saw the pastel and neon lights in the shape of an ice-cream cone hit their area of vision.
Parking closest to the shop, Jungkook hurried over to Belles’ side and helped her walk out.
“I can still climb out of cars.” Belle giggled at how attention he was trying to be.
Jungkook held onto her hand while they walked into the parlor with their masks fully secured.
Bright lights touched their half-sleepy eyes while the blanket hung over her free arm. People continued on their normal conversations without turning their heads in recognition which brought a rush of relief in her body. No one knew about the pregnancy since Belle formed a talent in choosing outfits that hid the growing bump. Of course at some point it would get hard to conceal it.
Jungkook and Belle padded to the counter to choose their flavors. Her eyes and taste buds immediately leaned towards the chocolate while the male simply followed her lead. The man had not enjoyed ice-cream since he was a child when Nana would serve it to him when he was upset usually because both his parents were out to work. He figured chocolate was the best way to start up the taste in his mouth again.
Once the orders were done and they were served ice-cream in cups, they walked to one of the tables in the corner and sat across from each other.
Belle, once again placed the blanket over her belly in the same delicate fashion while her mouth practically watered watching the ice-cream just sit there waiting.
“People really come here at this hour just to have ice-cream?” Jungkook glanced at the couples and friends happily eating ice-cream at their tables as if time stood still within these walls.
She shrugged, scooping her first bite with the tiny neon green spatula. “It’s just fun, I guess. Every now and then to break the rules of regular schedule.” Bringing the spatula up to her mouth, Belle suckled on it letting the sweetness grace her tongue and soothe her cravings little by little.
Jungkook poked at his ice-cream, mostly watching the woman enjoy her order and already feeling full. “Have you done this before?”
“Once.” Belle mumbled. “When I first started at Saito, my boyfriend at the time got really drunk so I took him for ice-cream at 2 am to sober him up.” How strange it was speaking out a past self. Someone who she used to be. A person with her own decisions, who knew her own dreams and aspirations while working hard to gain them. She was a damn fighter.
He pressed his lips together for a moment, bitter taste on his tongue. “What happened between you two?”
“I started making more money than him and he didn’t like it.” Belle replied simply.
Jungkook hummed in a little wonder. “So he was weak.” He scooped up a decent bite, some of his dark curls hovering over his eyebrows.
“Yeah he was.” Belle had a small smile slowly playing on her lips. “Did you have anyone before me?”
He nodded in a slight nonchalant nature. “One. We were going out for about two months.”
“What happened?”
“She was a red angel in Sangria House.” Jungkook admitted. “Someone married her with a huge sum and I just wasn’t ready enough for the commitment at the time.”
“So you’ve never actually gone out with someone in a normal way.” She pointed the neon spoon towards the male before licking the remnants off of it. “Do you even know to how to?”
Jungkook chuckled before shaking his head. “Dating lesson wasn’t really part of my regime when growing up. Marriage and kids, yeah but anything to learn before that kind of got fuzzy.”
Belle tilted her head watching the way his expression turned a little faint, almost borderline sad. It was that burst of a moment where she realized that Jungkook never really had a real childhood or any sense of the matter. Growing up learning nothing but business and building legacy with no sense of true warm compassion and empathy created a good mob boss. Not a good family man. Her hand immediately rubbed over her plump belly once again silently reassuring the growing being that she was going to keep them safe from this mess. “I don’t want our child to feel fuzzy.”
“He won’t.” His tone grew serious now. “I promise he won’t be raised like I was.”
“He?” Belle grinned.
“Or she. Sorry my aunt kept saying ‘he’ on the phone, I think she’s infected me.” He scratched his brow.
“It’s okay. They are okay with girls, right?” Her heart almost jumped out of her chest when the thought crossed her mind.
“Daughters are treated just as well in our family, don’t worry.”
“That’s good. Cause I don’t want her to be raised like I was either.” It was bad enough Belle spent her whole childhood always being told she wasn’t good enough to be like her brother. But the thought of her possible daughter going through it sickened her to the core.
Jungkooks’ fingers absentmindedly played with the hem of Belle’s hoodie sleeve. Those same fingers traced to her own, intertwining them together in a light lock.
For a brief moment Belle forgot everything again. They were back in their fantasy bubble where things were warm and welcoming. Jungkook was a sweet man who did nothing but give her affection in ways no one had ever done. He dedicated so much of his time and energy to taking care of her.
His empire, on the other hand, still tried to tape itself back together while a wrecking ball slowly hurdled towards it.
-
As the murmurs died down, Yoongi creeped outside of his bedroom door through the dark hallway. Quiet and a little chilly as sock covered feet slowly pattered across the floor. Only sound he could catch was Nana carefully walking down the stairs with a big basket full of laundry. He had the strong urge to help the woman but it would make it ten times harder to sneak towards the second living room.
Time had been running out. Four months really stretched over the amount of time he was supposed to be inside working but Yoongi knew what he had to get. With Belles’ pregnancy, Jungkooks’ attention fizzled and moved rapidly from the career to his new building family which usually ended with him out of his office more than he should be.
Belle once again proved her power in the Jeon mansion when a simple ice-cream parlor date seemed to get the dangerous drug lord out of the house in minutes at ungodly hours of the night. Though Yoongi honestly was not completely sure whether it was a ruse or just a rare strike of luck that she had cravings at this perfect time.
Ears pricked up when he heard a light crash from the right, clothes flying in the air and the sound of skin slapping onto wood roughly. Yoongis heart jumped seeing the older woman fall at the end of the stairs. However before he could step forward to help, three guards already rushed over immediately to her side like a pack of medics.
They huddled over Nana while she tried to laugh it away. “Just a little clumsy.” Her eyes seemed to flicker up exactly where Yoongi was standing. Only for a split second where he wondered if it was simply a random action.
Though if he stripped himself of any piece of naivety he had then it might not have been a random action at all.
While the three guards were preoccupied, Yoongi padded over as casually but quickly as possible out of the main living room towards the second living room.
Not glance over his shoulder but his heart still pattered and yearned to turn around. He had to be quick.
Across the second living room, his feet sped up until Yoongi couldn’t even keep up with it anymore.
He stood in front of the door of Jungkooks’ office which is when he finally looked over his shoulder to see the place empty aside from the sounds of Nana being helped at the stairs. Fingers wrapped around the golden knob, twisting it slowly hoping it didn’t squeak.
Turning and turning until all the door could was be pushed open.
Yoongi sneaked through small gap, entering the dark office before closing the door behind him.
Once the door closed, there was nothing stopping him from rushing towards the table almost making the wood underneath his feet squeak. He stood at the table where Jungkook would usually sit, gaze frantically searching anything that looked remotely helpful to what they needed.
Rustling through the papers, Yoongi found handwritten letters confirming deals and hard-copy information on secret funding towards dens. Patting the pocket of his pajama pants, he felt his phone, pulling it out and taking a picture as steadily as possible despite his hands trembling under the pressure of getting caught. He was at the heart of the nest now. If the guards saw him snooping around here, he would be dead instantly.
In his attempt to reorganize everything back again, he stumbled across one letter that looked unfinished. Yoongi had his phone ready until his eyes finally caught who it was written to, in Jungkooks’ handwriting.
‘Dear Mother and Father…’
Brows furrowed, slowing his pace for a moment while his chest still rose and fell in the heat of the moment. When Yoongis’ mind began gain a more steady pattern he began to read.
‘I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know that I got married recently. I want you to be one of the first to know that Belle is carrying my child. I apologize for being unable to tell you sooner. She’s doing really well, doctors appointment have been doing good.
The reason why I’m writing this letter is not only to inform you but to also carry out something I’ve been wanting for a long time.
When the baby is born, I’m stepping down. This world. Everything. I began a relationship with Belle hoping to make all of you happy by marrying the perfect woman. She was it. Unfortunately she was too perfect. I’ve grown fond of her.
Everything about her makes me feel calm and warm like I can be normal around her. I’m not even sure what is but it’s a good feeling from what I’ve experienced. My wife and child’s happiness need to come first. I want to grow a normal family with her.’
Yoongi felt like his hands were dirty reading the letter now. He was going to step down. Then that’s it, right? It was going to stop and maybe there could potentially be some form of normalcy in all their lives. He kept reading the few words left.
‘However protecting this empire before I’m gone also holds the utmost importance. In the remaining months of Belle’s pregnancy, I am devising a method that should get rid of our Park Chul situation once and for all…’
Heart moved back to its original speeding pace when there were no more words to explain just what Jungkook had planned. Yoongi almost crumpled the paper a little but quickly dropped it onto the table, taking a few more pictures before placing under the pile of extensive work.
His eyes flickered up to see a little light coming through the open gap and his stomach dropped, seeing Taehyung glance at the male and at the desk. Yoongi wrapped his fingers around a pen tightly not wanting to hurt him truly but they were so close. So close to getting this over and done with. Especially now that Jungkook had some plan to strike back at the one strong source they had to take him and his empire down.
“Kitchen. Now.” The younger male stated glancing over his shoulder to see anything oncoming.
Yoongi relaxed his grip on the pen and let out silent sigh of relief watching Taehyung walk away from the office and disappear to the side. He hurriedly tip-toed across the room looking back to see if he missed anything before sneaking through the gap again and closing the door.
When he looked over the guards seemed to be chatting in the center of the living room instead of peering towards the second living room for any disturbance. Yoongi could only hear their murmuring and light chuckling before blindly following Taehyung past the fireplace towards the door that led to the kitchen.
The kitchen had been modified significantly compared to the rest of the mansion which still had an vintage feel to it. White marble with subtle gold details shining in the dimmed warm lighting.
Taehyung padded over and stood at the kitchen island. Fingers tapping on the surface of the counter with a sigh passing his lips. “Okay look Angel already told me what’s going on.”
Yoongis’ brows furrowed. “Jesus Christ, is this an undercover mission or a party?” He kept his voice to a whisper, hands on his hips.
“Apparently Seokjin said there was no point in hiding it anymore now that Belle knew.” He shrugged although a confused expression still adorned his features. “Said if she’s involved, everything will fall into place.”
“So he’s playing Gandalf now too?” He retorted. “How much more is everyone gonna ask from Belle?”
Taehyungs’ heart dropped as the question lingered in the air, head hanging. That nagging feeling was slowly fading away but now it replaced with something so much more painful. A guilt of what cost had be paid for this recovery. He never truly paid for his debt. Belle did. “You’re going to help her out of here, right?”
“I’m trying.”
“That’s not a good enough answer.”
“I know it’s not.” Yoongi spoke through gritted teeth. “But it’s all I can give you right now.”
Taehyung nodded, body deflating a little despite the slight ray of hope that all this might change for the better. “Is there any way I can help?” Ever since this whole mess began, he had not been able to ensure his little sister that he had her back. Because he didn’t for a while. All his thoughts seemed meld into one hazy need to get rid of the pain he felt. Except that time the pain never identified itself. Taehyung knew why it hurt this time. He wanted his sister out of here, towards a better life just like she did for him.
Yoongi searched the mans’ expression turn into something a little more desperate. He succumbed to drowning in that same feeling. Nana’s honest words ringing in his ears. This is not just an undercover mission anymore. He hadn’t even been there for that long; not as long as Taehyung but god, he could feel it. That aching tug wanting to hold onto Belle and take her away from all the pain she didn’t deserve. That fucking burning anger at the people who used every piece of her patience and good heart only to rip it away from her permanently. It sickened him knowing the woman never wanted all this in the first place.
His hand tightened around his phone when a thought jolted in his mind. “Do you trust anyone in the Sangria House?” Yoongi asked.
Taehyung had no hesitation in any nerve of his body or part of his soul when he said: “Yes.”
-
A familiar outing now waltzing into the Sangria House early morning when the air was cool and the sun just almost took its highest point in the sky. Brunette hair flowed to the side as he walked across the pathway through the entrance door with everyone immediately recognizing his face.
However today Taehyung walked in a less relaxed demeanor than normal as a tiny object in his jacket pocket grew heavier, forcing him to walk slower. You’re doing this for Belle. He knew Angel told him the truth about everything but something about this still felt like he was diving into a pool where he could not see the end.
Into the private room he was lead, the white coat opened the door and Taehyung saw Angel standing in front of the table
Angels’ smiled immediately adorned her glowing features as Taehyung walked into the room. As soon as the white coat closed the door behind him, she broke all manner of rules and jumped on him, arms wrapping around his neck and face buried into the crook.
Whatever knotted nerves he had loosened when Angel embraced him, warmth radiating from her body onto his and the scent of vanilla gracing his nose. His own arms wrapped around her waist, nose nudging into her shoulder to take in more of her aroma and ease all troubles.
“I thought you weren’t coming back.” Angel murmured. A month had passed since his last visit and it was embarrassing to admit that she grew a little worried. After all the two were not really doing anything exciting other than talking. At some point people would get bored and move onto someone who would easily provide better services.
Taehyung hummed in near bliss, rubbing his hand up and down her back. “I’m sorry.” His voice muffled against the fabric of Angels’ dress.
She gently pulled away from the hug even though Taehyungs’ arms were still secure around her. “Don’t apologize. I just get worried.” Angel chuckled shyly. Another bright smile tugged at her lips now as she broke his embrace but held his hand, leading him over to the table where a colorful array of rice cakes on a plate rested. “They made more flavors this time because you liked it so much.”
Taehyung could hear the delight in her voice making his heart warm. For a moment, he wished this was just a casual visit as they sat down next to each other once again. “Thank you…” His voice merely came out in a whisper. “Angel—” He placed his hand over hers, caressing it softly. “There’s another reason why I’m here.”
Angel’s smile softened now, not so much as a frown but an kind expression to show she was listening in all seriousness. “What is it?”
“You’ve already helped me so much.” Taehyung wrapped his longer fingers around her small, soft hand turning his body around so he faced her completely. “I need you to help me just this once. For my sister.” He grinned. “Are the cameras on in here?”
“I asked Seokjin to turn it off.” She smiled shyly. “It’s—it’s so I could hug you without the guards barging in.”
Taehyung grinned leaning in, forehead pressed against hers. “I wish I could stay longer…I really do.” He whispered. “But we’re not going to be able to see each other for a while.”
“I know.” Angel whispered, voice shaking ever so slightly. “What do you need me to do?” There she was again with the award-winning smile ready to do whatever she was required no matter what the cost.
“Please—I don’t want anything to happen to you.” He shook his head. “Say no if you want to.”
Angel caressed his chest gently as a way to comfort him. “I’m always safe, Taehyung. Believe me, I’ve probably been safer than Belle this whole time.” Shining eyes met his gaze giving him a more faint but hundred times more genuine smile. “No one deserves to have their life taken away like that. I want to do this.”
Taehyung had a bitter taste on his tongue hearing those words. Belle had been less safe than members of the Sangria House. Her own made-up home and equally fake family could not keep her safer than Seokjin did with his angels. “Okay.” He whispered, reaching into jacket pocket and pulling the tiny object. He placed it on his open palm making the thing look absolutely miniscule.
A USB stick, dark almost matching the color of Taehyung’s jacket. Angel accepted it and placed it in the last place anyone was coming looking. If they did, it would end in a heap load of trouble. Once the object was in her hand, she stuffed it in between her breast until it lay securely in her bra but unseen.
He bit down the wide smirk tugging at his lips watching the USB stick traveling down the valley of her breasts, hiding in the forbidden area for safe keeping. “Was that to tease me?”
Angel giggled reaching out and caressing his cheek. “Maybe a little.” She scrunched her nose.
Taehyung absolutely melted at the adorable sight, taking the liberty of the shut cameras to lean in and press the quickest kiss on her lips. “I-I know it’s against the rules.” Before he could explain himself any further, he felt soft plush lips quieten him down again, his heart jumped out of his chest.
Quickly pulling away from the kiss, she bit down her bottom lip to hide her grin. “There’s no rules anymore between you and me. Just don’t take too long getting back, okay?”
He chuckled and nodded. “You know what to do?” Taehyungs’ eyes absentmindedly flickered down to her breast.
With all her usual elegant confidence, she smiled. “You and your sister will be safe soon.”
-
The air was thick with elegance and style, vibrant colors of yellow, sky blue and rose pink gracing every corner twinkling in diamonds. Growing up Belle watched in awe every fashion show or design video imagining her own name etched on the curtains for all the critics and admirers to see.
Belles’ own attire was simple, long white dress with long, layer frills that helped conceal the bump to the best of its ability. Worst case scenario people would think she let herself go but really the news should be coming soon considering a four month bump already proved to be difficult to hide no matter what the dress looked like.
Makeup artists actively moved about each model almost like machines while Belle checked every outfit was fitted to perfection.
Only thing that doused the fire of energy was the aching. Her back, limbs and belly kept sending either dull or sharp pains ever since this morning which caused Belle to have a less than enthusiastic demeanor while preparing for everything.
Boyoung explained that it was normal to have these aches during the fourth month of pregnancy so Belle let it be. Except now she wished she had time for a small appointment with the doctor just to check everything was okay.
“Madame Belle!”
Saito’s voice brought her back to reality while she was fixing a models’ earring. Belle turned over her shoulder to see the woman wearing a white attire as well to ensure colors did not clash with the actual designs. A grin tugged at the corners of her lips, kindly giving the model good luck before turning to see the older woman. “Am I allowed to be called that yet?”
“Sweetie, you deserved to be called that long before this fashion show.” Saito chuckled, rubbing her arm. “How’re you feeling?” She tilted her head searching the youngers’ expression.
Belle took a deep breath feeling a jolting ache on her back but she smiled nonetheless. “I’m okay. A little nervous.”
“Good. It’s good to be a little nervous. That means you care.” Saito squeezed her shoulder gently. “I’ll be here with you the whole time.”
“Thank you.” Belle’s eyes flickered to the side where she saw a familiar figure in a suit walk backstage with his gaze looking around for something. “Excuse me, Saito.” She muttered before moving past her towards Jungkook.
When Jungkook finally set his eyes on her, his expression softened and a smile tugged at his lips. “You ready?”
She nodded mimicking his smile absentmindedly. “You came, I thought you had meetings.”
Jungkook shrugged non-chalantly. “I’m their boss. They can wait.”
Belle chuckled lightly watching Taehyung make his way backstage but one person still missing. “Where’s Yoongi?”
“He’s at his seat already.” The man nodded to the side. Jungkooks’ hand almost automatically reached out to caress her belly gently before quickly pulling away. “I’ll—see you at the end of the show.” He smiled.
“Yeah…” She whispered, giving him a bright grin.
For a moment he thought to just turn on his heel and leave but he couldn’t resist. Leaning in, Jungkook chastely pressed his lips against hers. Slowly he stepped back pressing his lips together before walking away.
Belles’ smile disappeared as soon as Jungkook was out of sights. Maybe to him the kiss meant a sign of good luck for the show. To her, it was a kiss to say goodbye.
-
Fingers caressed the warrant like his first born child, brush of light cool air bringing even more relief than Namjoon already had. God how many years did he sacrifice his health, sleep and sanity to come to this moment? Where he had a car parked just outside the gates of the Jeon mansion awaiting the clear sign for them to enter.
Of course the captain had some reluctance in giving them the warrant but a direct order from the mayor had him quaking enough to give the approval.
Every nerve in his body tingled in anticipation, looking at the paper before staring at the majestic mansion. All that power was about to crumble down to the state it deserved to be in. Obsolete.
Granted the male was not naïve in thinking that this infiltration will end everything. The Jeon family had roots so deep in this city that it would take ripped out the entire land just to get rid of everything. But this was a first step to ensure the empire never grew too big for its own good.
Every King needed to lose their crown every now and then to learn that they were just a person underneath all that luxury and power. Easily breakable.
And Namjoon felt oh so pleased finally being able to break Jeon Jungkook in his tyrannous reign.
In a perfect pattern, that thought led to the gates finally opening with two police officers signaling to him that the coast was clear to enter.
-
“It’s time. Places, everyone!” Belle called out and all the models rushed over to the area they needed to come out from. Her own heart pounded faster at every second and another ache jolted in her abdomen now strong enough to make her wince. But she held her composure with all the strength could muster.
Then the first model walked out onto the runway and her stomach jumped knowing her path to any possible reputation as a designer now began its course.
Camera flashed even more violently than before as Belle caught a few happy murmurs from the crowd. She smiled before another searing burst of pain hit both her abdomen and back forcing her to stop for a moment to take deep breaths, her hand caressing her belly to somehow soothe it.
“Just bear with me for a minute, sweetheart.” She whispered to the belly as it seemed to getting more and more violent in its power.
Halfway through the show, Belle succumbed to leaning on anything close by with the constant pain but her smile stayed intact. She felt something uncomfortable between her legs as if a period came along without her knowing.
That was when worry sunk in. Before she could place any attention on it however, one of her models’ dress got snagged with the necklace. Belle almost could not catch her name being called but the woman quickly got herself back and rushed to separate them to ensure no thread was out of place.
“Belle?” Saitos’ hand hovered over her back with a worried expression on her face. “You okay?”
No. That was the initial answer that formulated in her mind as she once again leaned back on one of the vacant vanities. “I’m okay it’s just—a little sore.” The description had been underwhelming to describe whatever was happening to Belle. Her knees were losing all its power to hold her body up, even her hearing ability became a little muffled as if trying to conserve energy or to numb more of the pain.
Saito nodded though not looking completely convinced since she could see through the younger female on any occasion. Gaze flickered down to her belly before meeting hers again. “Tell me if you need to stop. It’s just a show, okay?” She briefly caressed her cheek before glancing over at the models coming in and out, trying to analyze the situation. “Two more outfits left then we’ll go to the doctor.” She muttered. “Alright?”
Belle took another deep breath, cheeks puffing out a little in the process but she nodded putting herself back on her feet again. “Alright.”
All the models made their way to the stage showing off a final viewing of all the outfits in all their glory and the crowd soared. Anyone who knew Belle could feel the success simply oozing from this show. The sheer extravagance yet simplicity with subtle connections to the beautiful expression of nature during spring time brought an impressed smile even on the harshest critics.
If only the designer herself could completely enjoy this achievement without her whole body being overwhelmed with discomfort and pain.
“You have to go out for a bow.” Saito explained gently as Belle tried her best to focus only on her breathing.
Aside from her muffled hearing, her whole body now burned like a furnace making Belle a little lightheaded. It’s almost done. It’s almost done. One more smile.
God, that was the last thing she wanted to think on her first successful fashion show.
Once again the woman nodded giving Saito a big smile which she returned before turning on her heel and walking to the stage. Step after the other carefully trying to keep her composure as best as she could.
Then all Belle saw was a bright white light, her hearing now resorted to a high-pitched drawled out beep making her think she was watching a muted video in front of her. Shaking fingers intertwined with one another, the girl stretched her exhausted lips into a wide grin. Heavy head lowered into the most decent form of a bow without her legs giving out.
Keep it in. Keep it in. She repeated to herself, trying to focus on her breathing while barely being able to hear anything.
Camera flashed and the crowds applause tried to push the barrier of mute suddenly formed in her ears. Belle could see the smiles however. That was all she needed. They liked it. They liked her designs. Her work paid off just like she always dreamed. That thought kept her standing on the stage in the best composure she could muster. Another bow given to each side ensuring they knew how grateful she was.
Maybe for a brief second, Belle forgot her whole body was warning of something in messages of deep ache and lack of orientation or balance.
Though it quickly came back for another reminder. This time more persistent. Belle felt like her belly was being jabbed by something sharp in such a ruthless manner, she worried she could collapse right here on the floor. Even her legs trembled and the discomforting feeling between her legs now almost felt wet like it soaked through her panties.
Belle kept her smile though it was trembling significantly before she backed away out of the stage, almost running but there was hardly any strength left for that anymore.
The white light now faded away and she was away from the stage, coming in backstage.
As if something snapped in her willpower when Belle felt her legs stumble onto the floor just past the closed curtains. Knees crashed against the wooden floor leaving a thud echoing across the room.
Both Saito and Taehyungs’ smiles disappeared watching the bright looking woman drop to her knees, only thing they could hear now was her agonized whimpering.
Saito sped towards her before anyone else truly gauge the situation, heels slamming onto the floor before her arm over the youngers’ shoulder as she almost fell on her side. “Belle?” She turned her around to see mascara coated tears dripping down Belle’s cheeks. “Belle what’s wrong? Tell me please.”
“It hurts…” Belle cried out, lips trembling and the drenched feeling between her legs leaking down the insides of her thighs and making her dress stick to her skin. “The baby…” She whispered before gasping.
For a few seconds her vision turned white making her whine shakily as her lower belly felt like it was being ripped apart with someone’s bare hands. Cold tears under her eyes, unable to close her legs from the sloppy sensation and the pungent smell of blood. Belle tried to look down but all she could catch was a glimpse of her white dress now glistening in deep red.
“You sick fuck get out of here!” Taehyung grabbed the reporter by the collars just after the flash of his camera. He had every nerve in his body to punch him until his nose fell to the floor but the sound of his sister sobbing made him stop.
Three guards immediately rushed in and carried the reporter off backstage while they tried to thrash around like a dirty insect.
Taehyung breathed heavily grimacing at the pig before looking at one of the guards who looked equally distressed. “Get Jeon here now.” He gestured.
Eyes shone in delight as Jungkook looked at the audience chatting away with an air of enthusiasm. He could almost see his wife climbing up this ladder of success. She deserved every bit of it especially since the man now saw the designs for himself. Growing up seeing Saitos’ designs, it was pleasing to see that the style may have changed but the quality never diminished.
A guard then walked over to him, reluctantly tapping him on the shoulder and leaning into his ear so his voice could be heard only to them in the crowd. “Sir it’s your wife… there’s been an incident.”
As soon as those words were muttered in his ear Jungkooks smile disappeared. He knew there were cameras around but nothing else seemed whirl around his mind except Belle. His body grew cold at those horrid words that he hoped would never come together.
Feet bolted, passing the guard to backstage even though his increasingly pounding heart made it hard to move faster.
Yoongis’ stomach and heart were already dancing in distress this whole night after getting a call from Namjoon that they would be infiltrating Jeon mansion tonight and then arresting him as soon as possible for the amount of concerning evidence. The police would be waiting for Jungkook to be taken away at his own home. It was a cruel fate in a normal context but for a man like Jeon Jungkook, it was what everyone knew he deserved.
However then the guard rushed in to whisper something in Jungkooks’ ear and without even the slightest warning or preparation, Jungkook stepped into a run backstage.
If his nerves were not in knots already, now they were just tangled up forever. Not asking for any kind of clarification, he simply followed the younger male in the same pace knowing only one thing and one thing alone could have Jungkook so worried to be in such a rush.
Once Jungkook arrived backstage, breathing heavily and sweat already forming on his neck, his stomach twisted at the sight in front of him.
Saito wrapped dark burgundy cloth around Belle’s waist area, his wife’s white dress tainted with red while the models either wept or just looked utterly worried.
Taehyung had a phone to his ear speaking through gritted teeth possibly to a doctor attempting to give instructions.
Jungkook rushed towards the woman, tears already burning behind his eyes just looking at her sobbing in complete pain. “What’s happening? What do we do?” He whispered. For the first time in his life, the man had fear seeping through his tone.
Belle gripped onto Saitos’ clothes feeling her vision blur although she wasn’t sure it was from the tears or the lack of her ache ceasing. Before she could get her bearings, something hooked under her back and knees. Her body lifted from the ground and cold rush flowed through her from the speed she was being moved in.
Then all Belle could see was black. Everything shut down almost as if she was lulled to a deep sleep.
-
Yoongi practically kicked the door down as they tried to get out the backdoor. He opted to drive before anyone else could, running to the driver’s seat of the black sedan waiting just in case paparazzi rushed in too thick at the entrance.
Saito and Taehyung ran out with Jungkook following close behind, carrying Belle as securely as he could despite his stomach lurching.
Taehyung opened the door while Saito moved to the other side and climbed in.
Jungkook tried to place Belle laying down on the car seat as gently as possible before climbing in at the same time Taehyung sat in the passenger seat.
Before they could even close their doors, Yoongi drove off definitely breaking a few speeding rules as he practically burst into the streets, tires screeching against the tar.
-
“Go to the J District, there’s a shortcut button there.” Jungkook nodded to the GPS, city lights passing across his face.
“This isn’t time for a road trip, Jungkook.” Yoongi seethed.
“We need to go to the private house and get our own medic.” He argued.
Taehyung pressed the button even though anger still burned in his body. “Why can’t we just go to a fucking hospital? It’ll be closer.”
“Hospitals are public places, alright? The minute one disloyal nurse gets a glimpse of any of us, the press will be outside in seconds.”
Yoongis’ grip around the steering wheel tightened so much, he could feel his pulse through his palm as his knuckles grew white. “I swear to god, Jeon. This isn’t one of your damn danger missions.” Something cracked inside him and the male couldn’t seem keep any of the usual composure he had around the power figure.
Jungkook sighed looking over at Belle who struggled to keep her consciousness while her blood soaked through his own shirt. “Just do it.” He spoke through gritted teeth.
“Taehyung, dear get a medic to the private home now so no time is wasted.” Saito broke into the tension with her gently yet firm voice while her slightly blood stained hand brushed through Belle’s hair. “If she doesn’t get treatment quickly, it might cause an infection.”
Yoongi glanced at the rearview mirror, his heart feeling empty not being able to see Belle from this line of vision but he increased his speed anyway taking a quick left.
“If anything happens to her, Jeon I’ll kill you, I swear to god.” Taehyungs’ eyes were reddened and glossy, a phone pressed to his ear again as he called for a private medic to go to the Jeons’ private house immediately.
-
Belle jolted awake for a moment seeing a grey ceiling and a blurry vision of a face looking down. Some voices spoke but they were heavily muffled. Then her body felt like it was being moved again. As if she was flying or levitating somehow through her locations. “Tae—” It was the only name she could breathe out.
A burst of bright warm lighting hit her exhausted eyes making her close them for a moment. It left her trying to get her hearing together but they were still difficult to pick up. She heard a familiar deep voice. Her big brothers’ voice. Most of them seemed familiar except one who from whatever she could catch had a calm demeanor.
Her vision cleared just for a second but Belle was welcomed with blood dripping from something thick around her waist. At least she thinks it was from her. It tainted the wooden floors nonetheless.
In a few more heartbeats, she felt a soft surface under her body and Belle fully melted into it without any hesitance.
Jungkook backed away reluctantly as the doctor leaned in to examine Belle. A tear threatening to escape at the brim of his right eye.
Taehyung bit down the urge to sob looking at the amount of blood his baby sister shed on the floor. He looked around for some kind of cloth and found white hand towel with golden lettering. Grabbing the cloth, he crouched down to wipe off the trail of blood on the floor while his tears mixed in with it.
“We need to get some cleaner clothes on her.” The doctor stated looking over at Saito who quickly nodded.
“There’s some nightgowns in the cupboard.” Jungkook muttered, gesturing towards the white closet next to the vanity.
Saito shrugged her jacket off leaving her in her shirt tucked into her skirt as she opened the luxurious cupboard and pulled out the most breathable nightgown. Walking back to the bed, she climbed on the other side after pushing her shoes off.
The doctor took out some scissors and cut the middle of her dress so it could be ripped off easily since it was mostly ruined as it were. Saito helped the piece of clothing get shrugged off her shoulders.
Belle whined at the sudden cold feeling passing through her body. It definitely didn’t help since the blood began to stick to her skin.
Jungkook noticed the little sound and rushed to the fireplace, crouching down and switching it on to add more warmth to the room. His disoriented focus had to stare the running fire for a moment not able to gain any kind of patterned thinking. Shrugging his jacket off his shoulder, he threw it onto the chair to his side where his mother would usually read.
“May I have only one extra person in this room?” The doctor asked kindly.
Jungkook looked over his shoulder, snapping back to reality as Taehyung got up to his feet.
“I’ll take care of her.” Saito reassured the both of them.
Niether one of them opposed knowing there was really only one person who always took care of Belle without her having to give something in return.
Both males padded out of the room. Jungkook gave one final glance towards Belle before closing the door in front of him.
-
Once they reached the private home and Taehyung and Jungkook were preoccupied with getting Belle acquainted, Yoongi stopped at the entrance to shakily grab his phone. A light groan passed his lips when he couldn’t get his thoughts together to click the number. Eventually the memory came in and he typed the number in, pressing the phone to his ear.
“Yoongi we’re ready, where are you?” Namjoon muttered into the phone.
“Something’s happened, it’s Belle. We’re at the private home at J District. Get yourself fucking ready here now.” Yoongi quickly informed and hung the phone up, trying to delete the number on his phone as calmly as he could. His hand reached into his holster to feel the harsh object giving him some form of relief aside from the ache in his heart.
Walking into the private home, he saw Jungkook pacing around worriedly while Taehyung leaned back against the counter with his arms folded over his chest.
Yoongi found it so strange how a man of such power could look so vulnerable in front of him. It was the perfect time except he had a bitter taste on his tongue calling it ‘perfect’. To think it took Belle to go through an immense amount of pain for this to happen made him look more like the villain than the murderous druglord worried for his wife and heir.
-
It felt like eternity had passed and restarted again when Belle finally woke up without her vision being blurry or her hearing almost completely lost. The wet feeling between her legs now completely dry and even comfortably warm. Pain slowly subsided though there was still very faint ache that also slowly passed.
Reddened eyes flickered over to the side where she saw Saito listening to a man in a white suit talking to her in a soft murmur.
The expression on Saitos’ face only spoke concern or maybe pity.
“Saito?” Belle tried to speak but it came out in a raspy whisper, throat a little ticklish from how dry it was.
Saito looked over at the younger woman, sighing before meeting the doctors’ gaze. “I’ll tell her, you just inform the three men out there.” She gave him a reassuring nod.
“Of course.” The doctor agreed before opening the door and disappearing behind it.
Once it was just the two of them, Belle tried to shift in the bed to somehow sit up but the ache only increased making her wince.
“No no, stay still.” Saito quickly sat down on the edge of the bed, soothing her still swollen belly and held onto her hand.
“What—what happened? Where am I?” She looked around the strange bedroom before glancing down at her belly. “I–I can’t…” Belle placed a hand over her belly. “There was so much blood.” Her breath hitched in her throat.
“Belle…” Saito tried to keep her voice as calm as possible even though her heart dropped seeing the look of confusion and fear ridding the youngers’ face. “The doctor said your baby may have had a heart defect of some sort…” She gulped down. “It couldn’t survive, sweetie.” She tried to soothe her chest. “I’m sorry.”
Belle shook her head, feeling a burning behind her eyes. “No…no the–the doctors’ appointment—said everything—was fine.” She tried to breathe through her frantic sobs. “Why would they say it was fine?” She pulled herself up, wincing as tears collecting at the brim of her eyes. “Why would they say it was fine if there was a heart defect?”
Saito took a deep breath, squeezing her shoulders gently. “Sometimes they can’t catch it. These things are very difficult to predict, Belle.”
She had already been unconscious before now something else seemed to turn off inside her. As if the whole world did not crash or explode. But simply stopped working for the arrival of cruel fates’ plan.
-
Torturous amount of time passed before the doctor walked through the door with a solemn expression on his face giving none of them any sense of reassurance. Because there wasn’t any to give. He looked at all three of them who had stopped in their usual tracks to gaze at the older male. “I’m sorry, Mr. Jeon.” The doctor looked more at Jungkook now. “Your wife has had a miscarriage. I’ve cleaned everything up to ensure there was no infection but I do suggest that she go to a proper hospital for proper checkups.”
Jungkook looked completely frozen as the news lingered in the already thickened air. He backed away a little, balance on the edge of a study table of whatever it was the man didn’t care. Tears brimmed at his eyes trickling down his already flushed cheeks without a care in the world.
If Yoongi didn’t feel like a villain before, he did now.
Taehyung turned away to face the wall but he could still hear the light sobs passing his lips.
Yoongi faced the doctor and led him out of the home.
Out in the dark night, he smiled at the doctor giving him thanks as he opened his car door for him.
Once the doctor drove off onto the road, Yoonginoticed from the corners of his eye the figures moving around in the bushes around on his left and right. Blatantly the man turned to notice the dark uniforms even from the distance, their badges glimmering just a little in the light. On the right he heard the sound of metal moving.
It was time. This had to happen here and now or never.
Licking his lips he let out a deep sigh and walked back inside, once again, checking his holster before entering the house again.
-
Sound muffled to non-existence as the room seemed to get progressively smaller, walls hugging her still body. It ached everywhere. She could feel the burn and still smell the pungent stench of her own blood tainting the now soft, dry surface. Back cramped, lower belly so weakened as if it was punched a hundred times with spiked metal fists. Exhaustion clouded Belle’s mind, pulling this broken shell into a decent lull to slumber but her eyes stayed wide open. Unblinking. She stared at nothing and everything.
Mind finally accustomed itself to the new setting of the Jeons’ private home. Deep warm lighting from the lamps at each corner, dark wooden floors and a running fireplace facing the front of the bed. Belle remembered catching a glimpse of it when they carried her in here leaving a wet red trail on the floor as she was moved. Her body barely moved however, limbs burning but frozen at the same time. Belle told herself to try and wriggle her toes or move her fingers. Not a single nerve responded.
She had one thing in common with her mind now. Loneliness.
So strange to think that a being barely grown to be called a full human could place such a heavy weight on Belle’s head. The loss now brought this in this feeling of being alone. Belle was once two. Now she was one broken thing. Barely able to move or function.
The door clicked open but Belle still refused to move whether out of exhaustion or just lack of care. It didn’t matter what anyone said, that empty feeling was still there.
Saito stayed silent as long as she felt it was necessary. But the words seemed to fall out of her without control. “I really can’t say anything to make you feel better, honey. There’s no easy way to comfort someone who’s lost something that could’ve been.”
Persistently unmoving as the woman was, her eyes still flooded on its own accord, burning and liquid flowing onto the pillow. This wasn’t Belle’s fault. It wasn’t anyone fault. Nothing but fate once again showing how it never had it out for her in the first place.
That was the problem though, wasn’t it? Belle spent so much time praying for fate to do something right for her but it only gave her more pain. What was going to happen for the better if she just stood and smiled at all the suffering thrown her way? Fate gave her a fake marriage, forced her to fall in love with a man who only cared about his reputation. Fate allowed her to be impregnated against her will. Fate stood by while Belle lost the child she grew to love. The child she had envisioned to raise and protect was now gone.
“It’s a good thing.” Belle whispered, still not shifting from her position nor looking at Saito.
The older womans’ brows furrowed. “What do you mean by that?”
It had to stop. It had to stop now or never.
Belle pursed her lips together before swallowing down the lump in her throat, preparing the words that kept swirling in her mind for months. Begging to escape so she could be free. Finally she moved her head to meet Saitos’ gaze. Despite her weak nature, her eyes held firm onto hers to ensure that the woman heard and understood everything she was going to say.
“There’s something I need to tell you…about how Jungkook and I met.”
Tumblr media
<< PREV CHAP | NEXT CHAP >>
131 notes · View notes
deiliamedlini · 3 years
Text
WIP Wednesday
I have been mentally down and writing poorly for a few weeks now, and even my friend was like “oof, yeah don’t post this yet. It needs work” and thankfully has been stopping me from making rash decisions like randomly posting fics to AO3 on a whim.
The WIP below (even though it needs more editing) is the beginning of the new fic I’m going to post next. I’m finally back to the pirates too, which is making progress, but is just slow going because I’m making sure I’m not forgetting plots (which I already have so I am not rushing the chapter but it is in progress finally!).
It’s a Pre-Calamity AU with heavy emphasis on the AU. It’s basically Zelda being forced to train with Link for her safety. Antagonistic-but-not-enemies, to friends, to lovers trope. I want to call it Dance With Me because it’s not really about dancing (I like the other meanings of the phrase), but my friend says it sucks as a title and now I’m rethinking 😂 I’m doing so well! 
~~
When Princess Zelda was seventeen years old, she’d been fully prepared to die.
Ancient prophecies had foretold a Great Calamity that would sweep the land of Hyrule into a great blight and destroy it all unless those chosen by destiny could stop it.
Zelda had been one of those who’d been blessed by the Goddess’s alleged favor: Hylia’s spirit and magic coursed within her.
But the wielder of the Master Sword hadn’t been found in time.
Four champions stayed by the Divine Beasts: Urbosa, Revali, Daruk, and Mipha. And for a year, the five of them waited while King Rhoam of Hyrule went on a mad search for the Chosen Hero and for the location of the Master Sword itself.
Zelda had spent that time relentlessly pursuing the Goddess’ power; she passed out in the holy springs, prostrated herself before Goddess statues for hours at a time, devoted every waking second she had to prayer. But despite her greatest efforts, her attempts were fruitless.
But perhaps the Goddess were showing their favor after all, because despite every prophecy, despite every prediction, wall carving, and palm reading, the Calamity never came, and Zelda was spared a horrific death at the hands of darkness incarnate.
One year after the predicted date, the Champions felt like they could finally move away from the Beasts, ever watchful, but able to maintain some of their daily lives. Zelda stopped spending day and night in freezing water and instead moved to the Temple of Time where the weather was bearable, and the distance was well within reach of the Castle while still spending most of her time in holy grounds.
Two years after the predicted date, the Champions began to lead normal lives again, freely leaving their domains, though they were still ready to return at a moment’s notice. Zelda began to spend more time in the library, sifting through ancient tombs and personal diaries of past monarchs, hoping her answer lied in pages rather than prayer.
Three years after the predicted date, the Champions were harder to find on a day-to-day basis. But Zelda remained steadfast and relentless with her nose in books and her knees in the spring’s water. The Sheikah had to pull her out several times. They had to force her into recovery.
But by the fourth year, the Beasts had gathered dust, and Zelda had utterly given up, instead helping Purah and Robbie with their ancient tech and Guardian research, which—despite the lack of the Calamity—still had other practical applications.
It seemed that everything had been built up for no reason, that there was no Calamity after all.
So, it was only when they’d all gotten comfortable that the Yiga Clan, a cult devoted to the demon lord Ganon, began their relentless assault on Princess Zelda, heir to the Goddess’ devastating sealing powers.
The entirety of that year had been spent with Zelda running from attack after attack, losing her guards, losing Sheikah. She was sent back to the castle where Purah set up protective wards around her room that ran off ancient tech, and she continued working on them so they might be able to encompass the entire castle.
King Rhoam’s royal command had been that Zelda could not touch any Sheikah tech. She couldn’t look at Guardians, or ask about runes and wards. So, Zelda returned to her studies once more until her eyes burned from sitting over tombs in the candlelight.
She had to admit, she’d become proficient in her royal duties, following her father to almost everything she was permitted in. What she wasn’t, he’d fill her in on after.
At this point, a vast majority of Hyrule believed the peace was a sign that the Calamity was never going to arrive. The other school of thought, which Zelda subscribed to, was that the Calamity should be feared far more than ever, its unpredictability keeping the other half of the kingdom in a deeply rooted state of caution and suspense ever since.
Though Zelda had asked her father to let her leave the protection of the Castle more often for experiences outside of prayer, his answer was always the same: “I lost your mother to those cultists; I will not lose you as well.”
“I just want to swim in Lake Hylia,” she’d tried once. “The days have gotten unbearable. Please, father? I’ll take an entire company of guards with me.”
“I’m sorry, Zelda. No. You may go to a spring of your choice. The waters there will likely be a cool temperature. Perhaps try the Spring of Wisdom.”
Zelda was 21, though she felt as though one hundred years had passed. She was tired, bone weary with an exhaustion that had set in so deep, she spent a decent amount of her days simply sleeping. When she was awake, she stared at her hand, waiting for magic to miraculously hit her in the face. Perhaps if she stared long enough, the Goddess would take pity on her patheticness.
The days when she’d been sent out to pray were now her favorites. She’d found ways to coerce her guards into taking longer routes, stopping for longer breaks.
That’s what happened on the day her father had reached his breaking point regarding the attacks on her life.
She returned to the castle shaken and sore, but his tight arms held her as his body shook with relief. He sank to his knees and held her in his arms the way he’d done the day her mother died, and he realized he needed nothing more than to hold his child in his arms to remember that the world was still spinning as long as she was alive.
He’d told her that when he’d said goodnight to her, standing in the doorway of her room with poorly concealed heartache written all over his sagging body.
“I’m really fine,” Zelda said for the fourth time that hour. She sat on top of her long, blue satin sheets, sliding a bit as she tried to adjust her leg. Something about being curled into herself in some way helped make her feel comfortable as she smiled to ease her father’s mind.
“Okay. Well, I’m going to stop by in the morning, if that’s alright.”
“Sure,” she said, shrugging as if she were entirely unaffected by everything she’d been through. She was good at that façade after five years of stares and whispers.
“Okay. Goodnight. May the Goddess watch over you.”
That was how Zelda found herself in the library before the crack of dawn, perched on a ladder in the top shelves of the restricted section. She had access, of course, but she was reading an untranslated a Sheikah tomb from a former handmaiden of the Princess of Hyrule before her ascent to the throne. That Princess had practically bled power, and Zelda hoped her handmaid noted something of interest.
She tucked the book under her arm and climbed down, crossing the library that was filled with several lifetimes worth of books, and stopped in the government documents. Her eyes trailed the spines for a familiar one with territories clearly outlined. She went to the language section to grab a reference book for Ancient Sheikah. Though she was mostly fluent in that, among several other languages, the ancient variations on words occasionally tripped her up. So she set back up to her room with her pile of books, ready to be confined by her father for her safety once again.
Zelda nodded to several of the guards she passed as they stood at their post. Despite the castle being one of the safest places in Hyrule thanks to all the tech, guards were still positioned in the most well-traveled places on their patrols, while two guards stood at her door and her father’s.
Biting her lip, Zelda craned her neck around her pile to try to find the doorknob, fumbling her hand around blindly, just barely able to turn the handle. And because the Goddess never wanted to cooperate with her, she dropped two of the books, though she managed to cling to the relic with tight fingers. The other two fell right onto her guard’s foot.
“I’m so sorry!” Zelda muttered, bending to pick them up.
The guard was beside her, nearly banging heads with her as he grabbed the heavy translation tomb. Thankfully for her, he flinched away in time; he was wearing a helmet that covered most of his head, and she didn’t want to be on the receiving end of that metal. “Don’t apologize,” the guard said softly, picking up the other book for her. “Would you like me to…” He gestured vaguely to her room.
“Oh, no thank you. Just stack them on top of this one.” He did, and she took a step inside before backing up. “Actually, would you mind getting the antechamber door for me, please?”
He stepped inside and pushed the second door open before backing up respectfully.
“Thank you so much,” she said, about to use her foot to close the door when she looked back. “And again, I am sorry I dropped a heavy book on your foot.”
He bowed his head and stepped back out, so she closed the door and set her books down.
Her father came into her room early, as promised.
“Zelda,” he said with a strained greeting. The corner of his lip twitched, like his muscles had become tired under the strain of holding it up for so long, and his eyes held no joy, no spark. It was forced chipperness, and Zelda picked up on it immediately.  “May I sit?”
“Of course.”
She sat on a chest at the foot of her bed, and he pulled the chair away from the desk to face her. “Well, let’s not beat around the bush. There have been many attempts on your life, but I have felt none so potently as yesterday’s. When they told me you’d been attacked, all I could remember was the news of your mother. And then when you were brought in…” he ran a hand along a bruise on her cheek that she didn’t realize she had until she felt a flare of pain cause her to flinch. “You are my precious daughter, and I love you. I never want to see you harmed. That said, others do. It’s becoming impossible for you to safely leave the castle.”
Zelda braced herself. This was where he confined her to her room or to the palace grounds for the foreseeable future. She folded her hands over her lap so he couldn’t see the shaking grow more visible.
“You’ve been unable to protect yourself with your powers, so we must resort to other means. You’re to learn to defend yourself, starting immediately. We still need you at the springs, so I cannot command you to stay here. You still are a priestess of Hylia. So, given your setbacks, you’ll need to learn.”
Zelda’s mouth dropped open as she let the words process through her mind. “I’m sorry, what?”
“We’ll hopefully have a sword in your hand soon enough, but you’ll be able to defend yourself from these cultists.”
“A sword?”
“It’s too dangerous. We’ve lost too many guards. And you can’t fight as it is. This is the best option.”
“No!” she said, much louder than intended. “Fight the Yiga?” She shuddered just at the word.
“Zelda, we need you to live. Hyrule needs you to succeed, and to succeed, you must survive.”
Standing up didn’t make it any easier to breathe, as Zelda had hoped. “You think I haven’t tried?” Tears threatened her eyes as her voice cracked on her last word. As if years of her life sacrificed to unreturned devotion wasn’t enough for her. For him. For all of Hyrule. She’d tried, she’d bargained, she’d offered up her comfort, her breath, her mind, her years, her time. She was one person. What was left for her to do?
“Do you think I just stand there and watch my knights get murdered? Do I just drop to my knees and pray? Is that what you think I do?”
“Zelda…”
“No! You’re right, father. I’ll lead the Yiga right to the Goddess Spring that you need me to go to again just so I can brandish a sword and strike one down with my prowess! Because, Goddess knows that my Knights have an easy enough time with the Yiga, so it should be a cinch for me!” The sarcasm oozed from her in an unintentional venom drip.
“You’re telling me that I’ve failed! You’re telling me to give up and grab a stupid sword! Give me some armor next time I go to the Temple of Time! I don’t need my priestess garb. I have my sword! Because it will absolutely save me!”
“Zelda, please.”
“Please,” she scoffed, finally feeling a hot tear on her cheek. “You’re telling me I’m going to die! Five years ago, I was ready. I knew I’d failed, but I stood vigil waiting for the Calamity to give my life in the final hope that it might stop Ganon! But now, I was blessed with time, and still I can’t do it! I can’t access her powers. So you want me to fail one more time by using a sword to defend myself? This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard, and I was there when Lady Styla proposed that sham of a fashion show to lift spirits.”
“That’s irrelevant, Zelda.”
From the look on his face, she could tell he was not budging. She tried another tactic. “I-I shouldn’t be near a sword anyway! What if I stabbed myself by accident? Then there’s no way I’ll ever unlock mother’s power. I’ll be dead with or without the Yiga! I already dropped a book on my guard today! That could have been my foot with a knife! And before you tell me that there have been warrior queens and princesses throughout the history of Hyrule, that’s because they never met me. I’m not a fighter! I read books all day! I take notes. I can bore the Calamity to death with a detailed review of the territory lines in Northern Akkala! That might be more effective than a sword, at least.”
“Zelda, you’re not thinking of the big picture…”
“But if I don’t unlock the power because of some silly distraction like learning how to fight, then the world will fall to the Calamity. My time will now need to be spent in that wretched training area with all kinds of sweaty men. Do you want your precious daughter exposed to such a sight? Worse yet, what if I like it and decide to spend all my days there with… shirtless men!” She grimaced and blushed all at once.  
“This is the most absurd argument I’ve ever heard. You leave me no choice but to make that a command from your king rather than a request from your father. Because as much as I love you, I also am obligated to keep you safe.”
“Obligated?” her voice cracked again, losing some of her rambling thunder. “I’m an obligation? Is that how you see your daughter?”
She gasped when he let the silence answer for him.
“You start your training now. Your instructor has already been informed and will be ready for you.”
“Who?” she asked, glancing at the four guards at her door. Two hers, two her father’s. They were all hearing her shame. How long until everyone knew?
“He’s the most renowned swordsman in all of Hyrule, one of our best fighters, and he’s about your age, so he should be someone you can get along with.”
“The best fighter in all of Hyrule is only 22? No wonder the Yiga are everywhere, if those are our standards.”
“Be kind, Zelda.”
“Is that another order, My King?”
He sighed and crossed the room, stopping at her door. “One more thing. While you’re there, I’ve given him permission to overrule you if you command him not to train you. You will learn to stay safe, whether you want to or not. Now change and go. He’s expecting you now.” He turned his head to her guards. “Make sure she goes to the training yard, and if she refuses, come fetch me.”
As soon as he was gone, she slammed her door and sagged into the wood.
She did consider hiding out, but she knew her father would simply bring the soldier into her room to train if he had to. At this point, with the number of times the Yiga had come after her, she wouldn’t have really blamed her father if he’d locked her in a door-less room and dropped this instructor in through a hole in the ceiling until she learned to protect herself.  Truthfully, the idea itself—in theory—wasn’t the worst. Except for the fact that the Yiga were deadly warriors who trained to kill for most of their lives and slaughtered companies of trained Hylian knights.
Grabbing her most comfortable pants to train in, Zelda slowed as she remembered the event that had started this all.
The Great Tabanthan Bridge crossed the long expanse of the Tanagar Canyon, and she was always careful of the crossing. The fall alone would not only kill someone, but it’d likely flatten them clean out from a drop of that height. So, crossing it was not something that was taken lightly on a good day.
Being that far out there was entirely her fault to begin with.
She’d desired to visit the Temple to Hylia that was at the edge of the gorge, but she’d opted to lead everyone along the scenic route to enjoy some of her free time outside of the castle. The guards had protested briefly, but Zelda was adamant about a scenic detour.
What she hadn’t been able to predict or expect, no matter how much research she did, was that the Yiga were there, lying in wait for her and her guards.
She’d been bucked clean off her stubborn horse, and she’d been left on the great bridge as three Yiga ran for her. Though she’d gone to run, she was caught by one who appeared in front of her in a puff of smoke.
Trying to fight them off of her had been like the great struggle of praying for the Goddess’ powers: utterly futile, and a waste of time.  
Half of her attempts to shake them had been by holding the rope handle of the bridge and throwing herself precariously close so they’d have to follow.
The soldiers eventually reached her and fended the Yiga off, but they’d also recounted the entire incident to her father in horrific detail: how she was winded by the time she’d run halfway across the bridge, how she nearly fell off the great, how she couldn’t fight any of them off and had been overwhelmed, and how her weak strength had caused two large wounds in her palms from where she’d tried to push a blade away from her at one point.
Glancing down at her now-healed hands—thanks to the castle medics—Zelda pulled on her boots and tugged up the laces tight. She wasn’t weak. She just wasn’t… physically domineering. But put any puzzle, any riddle, any impossibility in front of her and she’d find the solution. That’s not weakness. That’s strength. She is strong… just not traditionally.
Her shirt was loose, and she tied up her hair before looking at herself in the mirror for a long time, finally noticing the bruise she’d sustained. She was going to hate this almost as much, if not more, than she hated horseback riding.
Resigned to her fate, Zelda trudged slowly toward the training yard, hoping to be late enough to at least remind everyone that she didn’t want to be there.
Glancing at the sun, she’d determined that she managed to be at least fifteen minutes late. Not bad. She could do worse next time.
The yard was empty of the usual hustle and bustle that went on, and she imagined that her father must have ordered it be kept clear for her private sessions. But it was also clear of an instructor.
She stood in the middle of the training yard and fisted her hands tightly as she looked around. No one. Her eyes narrowed at the empty space, searching for some sign of trickery. But the only others there were the two guards she had brought with her.
“Is this some sort of a joke?” Zelda asked, placing her hands on her hips. “Hello?”
There was no answer.
Shrugging happily to herself, she was ready to leave, but one look at her guards standing near the entrance reminded her of her father’s orders to fetch him if she didn’t go; either she stayed here long enough to prove that she made the attempt, or she’d be embarrassingly dragged back down by her father’s guards, humiliated as they would keep hold of her arms to ensure she followed them right back here. Her father would make sure she was here, no matter what.  
Crossing her arms, Zelda walked around. She rarely went to the training yards unless she was up in the parapets, so being down in the dirt and grass felt like she was in an entirely new world. One she didn’t belong in.
There were training dummies lined up against a wall and a worn dirt track in a wide circle around the outskirts of the otherwise square area. There was a bench. There were weapons on a rack.
And that was it.
She looked at the footprints etched in the dirt, kneeling down to read the story told by the shoe treads. There was a large step forward, and then several overlapping smaller ones as the wearer clearly stumbled back. Then a single skid mark as they were forced back. And then the imprint of a body where they’d fallen.
If Zelda were here under any other circumstances, she’d have smiled and tried to find all the stories in the dirt, but instead, she stood back up and sighed, craning her neck towards the barracks just past the archway. No one was outside, and no one was coming.
“Okay,” she muttered to herself, prepared to leave. But her eye caught on a weapon rack, and she glanced one more time at the barracks before heading to the largest spear. She held it, pretending she was one of her knights. Goddess, if a Yiga came at her, she’d die. Fear first, and then clumsiness, because who could control this glorified stick well enough to kill a Yiga?
She shuddered and put it back.
“You can get there eventually,” someone said.
She spun around to see one of her two guards walking towards her. He removed his helmet, shaking out his blonde hair. Zelda watched in confusion as he set the helmet down on a post and pulled a blue band off his wrist to tie his long hair back.
“But only if you’re not fifteen minutes late on purpose,” he said, not looking up at her. “Princess,” he added with a bow of his head.
Her mouth dropped slightly and her cheeks warmed at the light scolding. “I beg your pardon?” she asked, almost doubting if she’d heard him correctly.
She scoffed at his audacity, recognizing the bright blue eyes of the guard she’d dropped her book on. Did he think that a conversation with her this morning gave a guard the right to chastise her?
He held out his hand, and she instinctively handed the spear back, though in hindsight she wished that she’d hit him with it instead. She’d been too stunned. He returned it to it’s place, and walked across the entirety of the training yard without so much as looking at her.
Her feet tumbled after him as she mentally and physically struggled to keep up. What was happening? Why wasn’t he answering her? Why was he even talking to her? Who was this man?
“Hey!” she finally called. He stopped and turned.
That’s when he looked up for the first time, his downcast blue eyes lifting off the dirt and settling on her green ones.
Pride swelled in her when she saw them waver, because clearly her voice had rattled him in some way. He clearly didn’t like looking her in the eye either. His eyes kept darting off of hers, and he had to keep forcing them back. Her own eyes narrowed, trying to understand this guard. “Who are you?”
“Your instructor.” 
31 notes · View notes
stxphxn-strange · 3 years
Text
(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
65 notes · View notes
melwilson · 3 years
Text
who the hell are you - derek hale x reader (part three)
Tumblr media
There was a permanent scowl etched onto your face as you held Derek’s stare. It was nearing midnight and he still wouldn’t tell you who Chris Argent was and what he wanted. Truthfully, you didn’t understand why you cared as much as you did. Derek was still very much a stranger to you, a very attractive stranger, but a stranger nonetheless. You tried nearly everything to get him to talk, but the only thing he had revealed was that he was 26 and from Beacon Hills. Even his last name was still a mystery to you. You were determined, however, you had work in the morning and you really weren’t up for another late night. Sighing, you stood up ignoring the smug smirk that pulled at Derek’s lips. You would get it out of him one way or another.
“You’re giving up?” Derek’s voice was filled with amusement.
“No,” you shot back, “I’m going to bed. I have to work in the morning.”
“You’re just going to leave me here all day?” Derek questioned.
You rolled your eyes as you began up the stairs. “You’re a big boy. You can handle yourself.” You smiled to yourself opening the door to your room. Somehow, you had managed to convince Derek to stay after catching him trying to leave earlier that night. It was your annoying persistence that made Derek cave. It was an admirable trait though. It took almost everything in him to not spill every secret buried within his chest. It was for your safety. The less you knew the better.
“What time do you have to be up in the morning?” Derek’s voice startled you as you turned around. You hadn’t heard follow you up the stairs. The more you thought about, the more you realized that Derek was prettt quiet person all together.
“Six. I have to open. I’ll be home by five,” you replied sending him a soft smile. “Get some sleep.”
The green eyed man nodded tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. He seemed to be in thought, but shook it off by offering you a simple goodnight. Your eyes followed his figure until he was out of view as you slid underneath the warm, gray comforter. Once settled in, you let your tired eyes flutter shut, sleep consuming you quickly.
It was the sound of a car door that woke you up. You rolled over grabbing your phone to check the time. 3:47. Another car door slammed causing you to jump as you tossed your feet over the bed. You cautiously made your way downstairs to Derek’s room. You were tempted to just go back upstairs, hoping you were just paranoid and sleep deprived, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen. You raised your hand to knock on the door, but didn’t need to because the door opened before you could. Derek stood before you in all of his shirtless glory, a look of confusion washing over his features.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. His voice was deeper than usual and filled with sleep. The sound, mixing with concern, caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach, but you pushed them away.
“I-I,” you shook your head meddling with your fingers. “Nothing. It was nothing. I’m sorry for waking you.” You turned to leave but stopped when Derek’s hand caught your wrist.
“Y/n, it’s not nothing. What’s wrong?”
You met Derek’s eyes, noting how soft they were towards you. “I- I heard something outside. It sounded like car doors slamming, like multiple. It sounded like it was right outside. Maybe I’m just being paranoid, but I couldn’t help but think...like what if-”
“It had something to do with me?” Derek finished. You nodded slowly, your anxiety beginning to get the best of you. “You did the right thing coming to ge-’
Derek never finished his sentence, his eyes moving past yours. You placed a hand on his bare shoulder, his eyes coming to meet yours again. “What is it?”
“I think you might be right.” The tone of his voice was serious as he brushed past you and into the living room. You followed him slowly more confused than anything. The two of you stopped in your tracks when there was a knock at your door. You grabbed your gun from the kitchen and moved past Derek motioning for him to get out of the direct line of sight. You placed your gun in the waistband of your shorts before cautiously prying the door open. You were met with the sight of an older guy and his seemingly drunk sister.
“Can I help you?” you questioned, confusion laced in your voice.
The man looked down at the woman in his arms and shook his head. “I’m sorry for bothering you. My sister told me this is where she lived, she has a roommate and she said that he’d be up. You are clearly not a he. And she clearly has had a little too much to drink.”
You chuckled softly. “That’s okay. I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”
“You’re alright. Sorry again.”
You nodded watching as the man dragged his sister to the red SUV parked in your driveway. You shut the door turning to Derek. “It was nothing.”
“That wasn’t nothing, Y/n. That was Chris and his sister Kate. They know I’m here and they’ll be back.”
You stood there, your arms crossed over your chest as you narrowed your eyes. “Why? What do they want Derek?”
“Don’t worry about it.” Derek’s calm demeanor was starting to tick you off. He didn’t seem remotely worried about his situation.
“Okay, Derek, I want to know what the hell is going on and I want to know now.” The tone was everything but soft. There was an edge in your voice that Derek didn’t like.
“What are you talking about?”
“What am I talking about? I want to know who is after you and why. I need answers, Derek. I can’t put myself in danger if I don’t know who I’m putting myself in danger for.”
Derek scoffed, avoiding your harsh glare. “I never asked you to do that.”
“Well, you did ask for a place to stay...and I gave that to you. I don’t know why and as a matter of fact, I don’t really know you,” your voice trailed off as Derek met your eyes.
“What are you saying, Y/n?” The way your name rolled off of Derek’s tongue usually made you weak at the knees, but now it seemed as if he was using it as a weapon.
“I can’t help someone who isn’t honest with me.”
“You want me to leave.” The cold look in Derek’s eyes was enough to make anyone feel guilty. You wanted so badly to help him, to be there for him, but if there was going to be trust issues while you potentially put your life in danger, you weren’t going to put yourself in harms way.
“That’s what you wanted right? To be out of my hair...now you have the chance.” Your words came out harsher than intended. You had known Derek for a little over 48 hours and you knew this argument cut deep.
You couldn’t meet Derek’s eyes as he sucked in a deep breath. “I understand.” You didn’t realize there were tears until the first one hit your sockless feet. Sighing, you traveled up the stairs and crawled back into bed, tears free falling as you heard the front door slam shut. You choked back a sob not understanding why you were so upset. Maybe it was because you had forced Derek to leave right after the people who were out to get him showed up on your doorstep. Or maybe it was because you cared. Or maybe it was because you acted selfishly because you weren’t in the know.
“God, I’m so selfish,” you whispered to yourself. You wanted to do nothing more than jump in your car and go find Derek, but exhaustion took over quickly and soon enough you were asleep again.
You were late. Very late. You had slept through your alarm, waking up almost two hours later...the same time you were supposed to arrive at the upscale diner downtown. Quickly, and while tripping over everything in sight, you managed to get ready and leave the house. If the fact that you had slept in didn’t make you late, the sight on your front porch did.
Derek was sound asleep on the wooden bench outside your door. You cringed thinking about how bad that was going to hurt his back when he woke up. You set down your bag as you made your way over to him placing a gentle hand on his arm. He jolted awake, his eyes searching for a threat until they landed on you.
“Hi,” you said softly, a drastic difference in your tone from last night.
“Hey,” Derek’s eyes softened as he sat up making room for you.
“Did you stay out here all night?” Derek nodded, running a hand through his messy hair. “Wow, I-um, okay. Wha- why did you do that?”
“To make sure you were safe.”
“You didn’t have to do that, Derek,” you replied nearly at a loss for words.
“And you didn’t have to open up your home for me.”
“I literally kicked you out ...which, by the way, I’m sorry about last night. I was scared and selfish and kicked you out of the place where you were kinda sorta safe.”
“You don’t have to apologize, Y/n. You’re right. I wouldn’t trust someone who wasn’t being honest either. It seems as if I was trying to protect by not telling you, but I’ve already put you in danger by being here.” Derek’s eyes held a lot of weight as he apologized.
Not emotionally prepared for this conversation, you stood up and grabbed your bag. “I- um, I have to get to work, but you can stay here for as long as you need.”
“You’re not going to work, Y/n,” Derek said, pulling you back inside. “It’s not safe for you to be alone. You’re coming with me.”
You stopped in your tracks, crossing your arms over your chest. “What do you mean I’m coming with you? Where are you going?”
“It’s not safe for you in Beacon Hills. Not until I’m positive you’re safe here. And I can’t protect you if I’m on the run. It’s only temporary, a couple months at the most. I have a safe house about a day’s drive from here.”
“What makes you so sure that I’m not safe here?” The thought of running away with Derek didn’t sound like a bad idea, but you were determined to hold your ground. You didn’t want to give in so easily.
The taller man sighed. God, you were stubborn. “A friend of mine is dating Chris’s daughter. She told him that they were planning to hit your house again tonight. They know I was here last night...I don’t know how they know, but they do.”
You chewed on your bottom lip as you weighed your options. You didn’t really want to be here if Derek was right, but what if he wasn’t. What if he wasn’t really who he said he was. He probably would have killed you already if he wanted to. “I-“ You tried to come up with a reasonable excuse. “I have work.”
An incredulous look washed over Derek’s face. “You did not just say that. You seriously would rather risk your life for your job?”
“I can’t just take leave for an unknown amount of time and expect my job to just be there waiting for me when we get back.”
“We’ll find you a new job,” Derek said back.
The situation seemed almost perfect, other than the fact that you were leaving Beacon Hills for unfortunate reasons. You had no reason not to go. You ran a hand over your tired face, a groan falling from your lips. “Fine.”
Derek couldn’t help the small grin tugging at his lips. “We leave in an hour. Get what you need.”
147 notes · View notes
darthkruge · 4 years
Text
Kai Parker Imagine ~ Ignored
Tumblr media
Summary: You’re Elena’s sister and are feeling pretty alone and ignored in Mystic Falls. One day, you meet a stranger who happens to understand.
Warnings: language, like one small innuendo, fluff :)
Words: 2024
She promised. She promised today she’d finally spend some time with me. It’s not that you need your sister’s attention everyday. Truly, you’re fine being on your own. You’ve gotten used to it over the years. But she cancelled the last three times to spend time with her boyfriend, Damon, instead. Again, you get it. You know she loves him. You know she’d probably prefer to spend her time with him and not you. But she promised and broke it again, blowing me off last minute.
That’s how you ended up here. Alone, in your house, on a Saturday night, staring at your refrigerator trying to pick out which leftover to reheat. You know what? Fuck it, I’m not just going to sit here alone. 
You pull out your cell phone, dialing Caroline’s number. 
“Hello!” The chipper blonde’s voice answers after the first ring
“Hey, Care! I was wondering if you wanted to grab some dinner at the Grill. Elena’s out with Damon again and I’m bored”. 
“Oh shit, y/n, I’m sorry but Stefan is like two blocks away and I was going to introduce him to The Notebook. Maybe another time? And Bonnie might be free, you should call her”
You sigh, “Yeah, alright. Thanks anyway. Send pics if he ends up crying”
She laughs “Of course, babe. Goodnight”
“Goodnight!” You say, hanging up the phone. 
You lean back against the counter, sighing. You know it’s not that deep, all your friends are in relationships and you aren’t, it’s a given that they’ll be busy on Saturdays. But you had a really fucking stressful week and you just didn’t want to spend another night alone. 
You decide it’s worth a shot, try Bonnie
“Hey! How are you”
You smile, relieved she answered. “I’m okay, kinda bored, though. You wanna meet at the Grill and get food? I haven’t eaten yet and wasn’t sure if you had plans…” 
“Sorry Y/N, I’ve actually been trying to perfect this spell from the grimoire all day and I’m exhausted. I swear, if I wasn’t so drained I would” 
Shit, she was trying to learn that tracking spell today!! I should have remembered! “Oh, of course, Bon! Don’t worry about it. Get some rest and take care of yourself!” 
“Thanks, you too!”
“Goodnight! Make sure to drink water”
Bonnie laughs, “You’ve always been the mom of the group. Goodnight” 
You hang up the phone and put it down, placing your head in your hands. Another night in, it is. You go back to trying to pick out dinner and realize that you might as well go to the Grill and pick up some food, anyway. You still have to eat and, to be honest, talking about the restaurant has given you a serious craving for their fries. You decide to order on your phone to make the trip as quick as possible. 
You get in the car, driving there, and see lots of people talking and eating together. Dejected, you try and keep your emotions in check as you get out of the car. You did not want to lose it at the Mystic Grill. The stress was just getting to you. You had exams this week and were studying non-stop, and after not being able to hang out and your sister ignoring and choosing her boyfriend over you, you were pretty fucking frustrated. Just a little bit more, then you can have the food and just go home.
Walking inside, you see Elena and Damon in the corner booth, smiling and laughing. You smile, happy for them. They really worked well together and after everything your family has gone through, you wanted your sister to be happy. She truly deserved it. You just sometimes wished the universe saved some happiness for you. You’d never been in a relationship, never had someone like you back. Sure, you didn’t need a relationship and you weren’t desperate by any means, but it would be nice on nights like this. 
“Order for Y/N,” You say, walking up the bar
“Yup, it’ll be ready in just a few minutes” the server replies
You smile and nod, pulling out your phone to check if you have any messages. None. Your heart drops a bit. You didn’t expect any, but it just feels like the day is compiling onto itself. Tears start to well up again and you lean your head against the wall, trying to force them back. 
“Hey, you okay?” You hear
You turn to look at the man who spoke to you and holy shit, he’s pretty cute. You wipe the tears from your eyes, “Yeah, yeah, I’m good.” You add a strained laugh at the end, hoping it helps him realize you aren’t completely insane. 
He doesn’t look impressed, rather amused by your poor attempt to hide your emotions. “You sure, gorgeous? Because, not to be rude, but you don’t look it”
“I am, I swear. It’s stupid, just a bad day. Just, everything on top of everything else,” You say, gesturing with your hands
“Yeah. I know what you mean. I’m Kai, by the way”
“Y/N” You say, shaking his hand. 
You’re broken from your thoughts by the server returning with your food. “Here you go, Ms. l/n” 
“Thank you!” You take the bag and smile
“Mr. Parker, yours will be out in just a second”
“Alright, thanks” Kai says, turning back to you
“So,” He starts, “I would ask you how your day has been, but I think I got a pretty good idea”
You laugh. “Yeah, I think this,” You say, gesturing to your face and appearance, “pretty much sums it up. But what about you? You had a better experience in this world today?”
“Well, good days, bad days. It’s all relative. But I guess you could say this one is looking up. I met someone recently. Beautiful, (h/l) (h/c) hair, about this tall” He says, holding his arm to just above your eye level.
“She seems lovely. You should introduce me”
Kai laughs and takes his food that’s now ready.
“So, you wanna get out of here?”
You take a step back, wondering who the hell could be so goddamn forward
“Sorry! Poor wording. I wasn’t talking about that. But I mean… if you’re game…?” 
You look at him, glaring but still clearly having a joking look in your eyes
He laughs and holds his hands up in mock-surrender. “Sorry, again, sweetheart. I just meant there’s a nice little lookout area nearby. I know the sun has already set, but it’s where I like to go to look at the stars.”
You notice that he gets a bit of a faraway look in his eyes that you know all too well. Perhaps he’s the perfect person for you to spend this evening with. 
“Sure, lead the way” You say. I mean, cute guy, possibly safe, why the hell not?
He quickly takes your hand and leads you out of the Grill. You try to catch Elena’s eye on your way out, but she doesn’t notice you. Kai, however, does. You see him look at your fallen expression and frown, following your gaze to your sister, then back to you. You shake it off, though, and smile back at him, continuing to walk to the exit. 
You walk a few blocks, talking about everything and, yet, nothing of immense importance. You missed just spending time with someone. Someone who wasn’t preoccupied or just hanging out with you because their first choice was busy. You missed the banter and the fun and feeling of freedom. You hated being in that house. You always felt so trapped there. Because even though, yeah, you could technically leave, you couldn’t do anything. You were still alone. 
He lets go of your hand to climb up onto this rock, then holds out his hand to help you do the same. Smiling, you open your food and begin to eat, him doing the same. You look into his eyes, smiling even more. Something about this boy just makes you happy. You don’t know why, I mean, you’ve just met him. But there’s just something about him.
He clears his throat, smiling right back at you, “So, do you wanna talk about it?”
“Um, I- I don’t know” 
“It’s okay if you don’t,” Kai says, stealing one of your fries, “But if you do, you can. I’ve been told I’m a good listener”
“Yeah, okay, yeah. That might be nice”
You start retelling the story of your sister and friends, all in relationships. He nods, knowingly. “I just, I’m glad they’re happy. I really am. Please, I need to make sure you know that. I want them to be happy. But I just wish they’d sometimes check in on me. I’m tired. I don’t want to be the only one alone,” Your voice breaks and you pause, a few tears running down your cheeks, “I don’t want to feel like without me doing all the work, I wouldn’t have a relationship with them. I just wish, at least once, they’d ditch their boyfriends and just get dinner with me”
You look at him, realizing he’s frowning and you start to back-track. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I know it’s not a big deal. Like, in the grand scheme of things, it’s not that important. I was just having a bad day, I didn’t mean to like unload my trauma and abandonment issues on you, I’m sorry-”
He cuts you off, gently. “Breathe, sweetheart. It’s okay. I’m not mad at or upset with you. I just know the feeling all too well. Loneliness sucks, huh?”
You laugh, relieved you didn’t scare him away. “You can say that again”
“I am sorry about your friends. And you sister. I assume that was the one you were staring at back there?”
“Yeah, that’s her”
“Hm. I get it.” He says and you just know he does. There’s something about being abandoned and feeling alone in your own family that people may sympathize with, but they never really get it unless they felt it first-hand. 
You lean in, kissing him. He kisses you back and, shit, it feels good. You haven’t been close to a person in so long that when he puts his hand against your cheek, you involuntarily start crying. 
“Oh, I’m sorry! I thought-” He starts, pulling away
“No, no, no, Kai, it’s not you. I just wasn’t used to someone being there with me. It was just a bit overwhelming. But it’s not you at all. It felt incredible” Great, now not only does he know you’re lonely and sad, but also that you’re touch starved. Awesome.
Kai gently pulls you back to him, kissing you again. He wraps his arms around you, deeping the embrace and you do the same. You kiss him, only breaking apart when your head is swimming with the need for air. 
After a while, you both pull back and he rests his forehead against yours. You gently move your head and put it on his shoulder, his arm coming around you. You wrap yours around him as well, looking up at the stars, a goofy smile on your face. 
“Well, I defer to you, gorgeous. But if you ever need a break from the loneliness, I’m here. I know I can’t make it all better or anything. That hole from your family and friends is impossible to make go away forever. But I like to think I can possibly shrink it a bit. Or at least take away a bit of your pain” He says, looking at you deeply.
“Yeah, I think that could work,” You say, leaning in and kissing once more. You then gesture toward the stars and he follows your gaze. You spend the night staring at the galaxy, as if it’s just the two of you, and you know that you finally have someone in your corner. Someone who would pick you first. It’s a terrifying feeling that you’re not used to and, frankly, neither is he. But if he’s willing to try, so am I.
280 notes · View notes
shadowhuntertrash · 3 years
Text
I feel so bad but I cannot remember for the life of me who asked for the Gabrily family fluff because you either commented or asked me personally but I cant find it in my chats so sorry for not tagging you. </3
Cecily sighed as she walked through the door. It had been a busy day and she had spent most of it with her brother while they tried to figure out what was happening with the demon attack in broad daylight.
   Gabriel had been off with Gideon on some mission for the last four days, he was often going on missions and Cecily found it hard to keep up, while Alexander was with Lucie. Anna and Christopher were off somewhere with Matthew, Thomas, and James, so Cecily wasn’t expecting anyone to be home.
   She went to the kitchen getting some water before walking to the living room. She sighed as she looked at the mess, she hated cleaning, she always had, but with Christopher’s beakers and vials all over the place, she was constantly moving them away from Alexander’s reach. Anna came over often as well, always leaving something behind.
   She had been cleaning for about ten minutes before someone had their arms wrapped around her. Cecily squealed and turned quickly, knocking the person backward. Gabriel stumbled, catching himself right before he fell, eyebrows raised. “I thought you knew I was coming since you weren’t moving, turns out you just didn’t hear me.” He pretended to give her a scrutinizing look. “I would have to rate your response time as a six I’m afraid, while you got away you would have still died had I been a demon.”
   Cecily laughed, walking up to her husband and hugging him. She hadn’t realized how much she missed him and the toll it was taking on her to not have him here. Gabriel hugged her back, when she didn’t pull away he tightened his hold, his face moving back so he could see her face. “Are you alright, mi amor?” Cecily smiled up at her husband’s concerned face, “I am now.” She said quietly.
   Gabriel smiled and leaned down, his lips meeting Cecily’s. She felt him smile against her lips, a feeling she would never get used to. The front door banged open and Cecily broke away with a sigh, alas she would have to wait until tonight to spend one on one time with Gabriel.
   Cecily looked towards the door smiling at her children as Gabriel wrapped his arm affectionately around Cecily’s waist. Anna was holding little Alexander looking at them with fond eyes, she had been asking Cecily a lot of questions about love recently, making them ‘rhetorical’ but Cecily knew better and pretended to be unaware they were talking about Ariadne.
    Christopher was behind Anna, talking excitedly with his hands about something he was calling a ‘fire message’. Anna set Alexander carefully on the ground and he ran up to Cecily who bent down and scooped him into her arms in a smooth practice move.
   Gabriel walked over to Christopher and ruffled his already messy hair, Christopher turned his bright smile to Gabriel. “Father, have you talked to Uncle Gideon or Uncle Will today?” Gabriel shook his head watched Christopher with an amused smile. “They were on a mission and something happened to Uncle Gideon and they had mentioned how they wished they had something that could transfer messages instantly and I had a brilliant idea-” Gabriel held up a hand to stop Christopher, his previously amused expression now heavily concerned. 
   “Backtrack, what happened to Uncle Gideon?” Gabriel said, concern for his brother evident on his face. Cecily turned her icy blue eyes to Christopher’s lavender ones, her eyes equally concerned. 
   Christopher waved their concern off. “He’s fine, the demons had broken their steles but Sophie showed up just in time and healed them both.” Christopher’s eyes went bright again and Cecily watched Gabriel’s still concerned face. “I was thinking that there could be something I could make that makes instant messages possible! I was thinking of an idea and if it worked I could call it a fire message.” Anna put a hand up to stop him and Christopher peered questioningly at his sister.
   “If it has fire in it you can’t work on it by yourself. Either me, Thomas, or mother and father have to be there.” Cecily wondered as she watched Christopher open and close his mouth when Anna became such a mom to Christopher but she couldn’t find it in herself to mind if it meant she wasn’t always the bad guy when telling him that potentially dangerous thing needed oversight.
   Christopher just shrugged, turning to Anna to talk more about this ‘fire message’, and Gabriel turned to Cecily. “I have to go-” Cecily stiffened a little, disappointment flooding through her. He had only just gotten back from a four-day trip and as much as she knew he had to go check on his brother it still pulled at her heart for him to have to leave.
   Nevertheless, Cecily smiled at her husband, turning away before he looked too deep and discover it was fake. Gabriel walked over to her and kissed her on the forehead before doing the same to Anna and ruffling Christopher and Alexander’s heads. Cecily watched with sad eyes as he stepped through the door once again.
   Cecily bounced Alexander gently on her hip and turned to Anna. “I am going to put Alexander to bed, are you staying the night?” Anna watched Cecily’s face closely and nodded slowly before walking up to Cecily. “You look exhausted mother.” She said softly looking deep into Cecily’s blue eyes, Cecily always found it creepily comforting how similar her daughter’s eyes looked to her own and Will’s.
   Cecily waved off her concern, though she knew she was radiating exhaustion, and shook her head. “I’m quite alright Anna, you needn’t stay if that’s what you were worried about.” Anna didn’t seem to believe that but dropped the subject anyway before saying goodnight to Alexander. 
   “If it’s alright with you mother, I am going to kidnap Kit and take him back with me to my apartment.” She turned her eyes to her brother, a fond look on her face. “I’m afraid otherwise he would be awake all night and you needn’t worry about that tonight.” Cecily smiled gratefully at her daughter before kissing her cheek and walking over to do the same to Christopher who smiled at her, his lavender eyes standing out on his pale face.
   Anna and Christopher left about ten minutes later and Cecily finally made her way to Alexander’s room, the room next to her own, and set him down gently in his bed. She started humming softly, a welsh lullaby her mother had taught her that she had sung to all of her children.
   Alexander wasn’t tired yet so it took Cecily two hours to put him asleep. Cecily stumbled slightly as she walked out of the room, the brightness momentarily blinding her as her eyes attempted to adjust. It was almost midnight now and Cecily wanted nothing more than to go to sleep but when she got in bed it felt too cold and she knew it would be one of the nights where she would have to wait for Gabriel to be able to sleep.
   It took another two hours for Cecily to hear hooved feet in front of her house and she got up, tightening her robe around her nightgown as she walked into the main room. Gabriel was taking off his coat and hat, boots carefully sat beside the door. 
   He turned when he heard her bare feet pattering on the floor, a tired smile on his face. Cecily shivered, a draft chilling her to the point of goosebumps. “How are Gideon and Will?” Cecily asked quietly, trying desperately to not wake Alexander up.
   Gabriel rubbing his hands together, walking up to Cecily before wrapping his arms around her. Cecily buried her face in his shirt, the comfort of having her husband home momentarily overwhelming. Gabriel’s cheek rested on her head and she felt when he said, “Gideon’s alright, Will was barely scratched but Gideon had a large gash across his stomach, Sophie got there about five minutes later and just about lost her mind at Will.” Gabriel laughed lightly, a hand coming up to stoke Cecily’s ink-black hair. “I would have rather enjoyed seeing that if I’m quite honest.”
   Cecily laughed, but her heart wasn’t quite in it. She was tired and just wanted to be in bed, Gabriel’s arms around her, the safe feeling of being in his arms that she had been severely lacking recently.
   Gabriel pulled away and frowned. “Are you quite alright mi amor?” He asked softly, tucking a loose piece of hair behind her ear. Cecily closed her eyes and nodded slowly. “I’m just tired.” She said somewhat weakly, a tone she only ever used around Gabriel. 
   Warm hands found their way to the back of her knees and her waist and Cecily found herself being lifted off the ground. “Off to bed then.” Gabriel said simply as Cecily laughed softly, a genuine one this time. She laid her head against his chest and sighed deeply, she had missed him. 
   He carried her to their room before dropping her softly onto their bed. Cecily crawled under the covers and waited expectantly for Gabriel to climb in next to her, instead he turned around and started walking out of the room. Cecily shot up, “Don’t leave, please! Where are you going?” She asked desperately. Gabriel turned back to her with a slightly concerned expression. “Ceci, I’m not going anywhere. I’m just changing I’ll be right back.” 
   Cecily felt her face heat up and she looked down at the comforter before shifting so she was laying down again. “Right. Sorry.” She mumbled, Gabriel stared at her for a second before turning and going to change. It normally took Gabriel ten minutes to get ready for bed but he was back in their room in half that time.
   He crawled into bed next to her and wrapped a strong arm around her middle, gently pulling her body against his. Cecily sighed softly, comforted in a way only a spouse could. Gabriel intertwined their fingers, his thumb running soothing circles on the back of her hand.
   “Why are you afraid of me leaving?” He asked softly, pressing a light kiss to the back of her neck. Cecily closed her eyes, her hand tightening involuntarily around Gabriel’s as if to keep him in place. “I’m not.” She replied dubiously, Gabriel tightened his grip around her waist. “You are, why?” He asked, his mouth leaving sweet kisses over her shoulder. 
   Cecily sighed, embarrassed, and afraid to come off as clingy. She took pride in being the kind of wife who was confident in being left alone. She was still confident, she just missed him horribly when he was gone. “You’ve been gone a lot.” Cecily said quietly, Gabriel’s lips stilled on her shoulder before he pulled away, shifting so that he was half above her, one arm holding him up while the other went to push the hair out of her face.
   Gabriel frowned and Cecily felt instantaneously bad. “Not that that’s a bad thing. I know you have to fight demons and you’re really good obviously which is why they send you on overnight missions which is great Gabriel really, I’m so proud of you.” Cecily hesitated and Gabriel rested his chin on her shoulder, a sign for her to keep going. Cecily averted her eyes and looked at their intertwined fingers instead. 
   “It’s just hard I guess sometimes, having to watch the kids and help Will and Tessa and do patrols while finding someone to watch Alexander.” Her eyes flickered up to Gabriel’s again. “I’m not complaining though, I know what you do is important.” Cecily was about to continue rambling but Gabriel saved her from embarrassing herself further.
   He ran a calming hand through her hair, a troubled look on his face. “Cecily none of that is as important as you, or the kids.” He paused, the troubled look on his face shifting into guilt. “Ceci, I do wish you’d told me earlier, I didn’t realize.” 
   Cecily just shook her head, pulling the hand still holding hers around her waist so that he was holding her again. Gabriel happily obliged. “I’m quite alright Gabriel, don’t worry about it. You’re here now.” Gabriel huffed. “I should have been here the whole time, especially with Alexander.” He sighed and kissed her shoulder again. “No wonder you’re always exhausted by the angle Cecily.” 
   With a sigh and a shake of her head, Cecily turned her head so she could see Gabriel. “If you’re saying I look tired all the time, wow Gabriel thanks.” She said sarcastically, continuing before Gabriel got a chance to deny her words. “And two, as you said, I am exhausted and it would be greatly appreciated if we could finish this tomorrow.” Gabriel hesitated before nodding and shifting back so he was laying on the bed instead of hovering over her body.
   Cecily flipped to her other side so she could bury her face in Gabriel’s chest, his arm went around her tightly, drawing her body impossibly closer. Gabriel placed a soft kiss on her forehead and ran his fingers through her hair. Cecily sighed contentedly as her eyes finally shut, dreams not far off.
   The last thing she thought before sleep claimed her was how safe it felt back in her husband’s arms.
49 notes · View notes
Text
The Jilted Tourist - 3
A/N: It’s the first morning of what was supposed to be a nice weekend away for Benjamin and Julia. But things rarely go how they are supposed to, at least for Benjamin Greene. What happens when Julia arrives in London? And will Benjamin see Joss again? Yikes. This is the finale of this lil mini-series and... well... possibly of something else. 
Word Count: 4,081
Warning: language, marital problems, talk of infidelity 
Tumblr media
Benjamin could count on one hand how many times in his life he had woken up alone in a hotel room. Didn’t think I ever would again. Not after… With a sigh he opened his eyes and slid his hand over the empty space beside him, watching as his ring snagged on the bunched sheets. The room was still dark, though he could see the sky lightening through the drawn curtains. He brought his outstretched arm back beneath his pillow and rolled to his other side, reaching for his phone on the table. Pressing the button to illuminate the screen, he groaned as he read the time. Never thought I’d wake up this early in a hotel either. He dropped his face into the pillow and let out a long slow breath into it. 
He’d been in the waking world for less than a few minutes but already an uneasy current passed through his stomach. I don’t like this. At all. He turned from his stomach to his side and swallowed the thick feeling that was starting to form in his throat. This doesn’t feel right, this feels… Clamping his eyes shut, he tried not to wonder if it would feel any different if Julia had been there. Would we talk about what we need to, or would it just… would she just… Stop. He opened his eyes once more, sitting up against the headboard. There’s no use, it’s… He swallowed again and ran both hands over the top of his head, gripping the back of it. She’ll be here in a few hours and… we’ll talk. 
Though he’d managed to get her on the phone when he got back to the room, the conversation had been brief. She’d elaborated a little on Marsha’s dilemma, telling him that the woman’s daughter hadn’t spoken to her in a few months due to some argument that they’d had, and that Marsha wasn’t dealing with it very well. While it still didn’t feel to Benjamin like something that should have derailed their plans, he didn’t say anything. It’s not really about Marsha or this weekend anyway. With a yawn she asked what he’d done after speaking to her at the train station, and he answered that he’d just had a couple of pints at the pub. Which is true. But before he could tell her anything about his presentation or how confident he was feeling about it, she was yawning again, telling him that she was exhausted. So am I. Benjamin ended the call with her the way he always did, telling her that he loved her, but despite how tired he truly was, he stared at the ceiling for hours.  
She still hasn’t even asked me how things went. He wondered, briefly, if she hadn’t forgotten what the occasion was that had warranted a weekend getaway, though he couldn’t see how. It’s nearly all I’ve talked about for weeks. He frowned at the same stain on the ceiling that he’d focused on as he fell asleep the night before. Maybe she just doesn’t understand how important this is to me. Though he knew that plenty of people, if given the chance that Julia had given him, would probably coast through their classes and simply try not to fail, Benjamin had looked for every opportunity to work hard for the degree that his wife was funding, wanting to prove not only to himself but to her that he could; that he was worth her investment. But she doesn’t see that. 
The city sounds outside the window did nothing to cut through his thoughts. Cycling back through the finer points of the paper that he presented the previous morning was no help either. He’d memorized his notes so well that running through the facts wouldn’t take up enough brainpower to distract him from what was on his mind. Maybe I’ll have a smoke, clear my head. But that only made him recall the way that Jocelyn had scolded him for lighting up a second cigarette that evening as he walked her to the hotel. 
“You know, a smart man like you really should know better than to-” 
He raised the hand that still held his lighter to cut her off, speaking around the paper filter between his lips. “I do know better, and I am trying to quit. Tonight’s just not the night for it.” Taking a long, almost exaggerated drag, he plucked it from his lips and turned away from her to release the plume of smoke into the air. 
“Sun’ll come out tomorrow I guess,” she answered, swinging her arm across her chest to adjust the strap of her purse. Her whole body swayed with the motion, and Benjamin switched his cigarette to his opposite hand in case he needed to catch her by the wrist or stop her from stumbling off the curb. “Mmm, actually, I don’t know’f the sun’ll be out tomorrow, when I checked the weather earlier it said rain so…” She shrugged and corrected her course, walking in a straight line once more. “So smoke ‘em up I guess.”  
Benjamin glanced over at Jocelyn then and let out a burst of laughter which she returned after half a second’s pause. He pulled the pack from his pocket and shook it back and forth. “Last pack I’m buying, promise.” Joss nodded as he tucked them back away. “But hey,” She tilted her head to let him know that she was listening. “Can’t rain forever, right?” 
She sighed and while he could tell that she would need time to get through the hurt that Eddie’s cheating had caused, he watched a small smile lift her cheek. “No,” she squinted up at the starless sky. “I guess it can’t, not even with all these clouds.” 
They’d reached the hotel only a few minutes later, and after he was sure that she had her key and would be able to get safely into her room, Benjamin turned to his inadvertent new friend and wished her a good night. 
“You have my card, I know you probably won’t be booking any more trips back to London anytime soon,” she rolled her eyes as he continued. “But if you ever need copy work,” he shrugged, “shoot me an email and I’ll see if I can help.” 
Joss closed her right eye in a clumsy wink and flashed him a thumbs up. “And if you ever need one’a your smarty pants papers proofread, you know who to call.” She turned to insert her card key into her door but spun around, card still clutched between her fingers. “Actually don’t call me because international rates are a whole thing but yeah. Like you said. Email.” Twisting again, she inserted her key quickly into the slot and retracted it, swiftly turning the handle to open the door. 
  “Right. Wouldn’t want to cause a whole thing.” She’s funny. Benjamin caught the door with one hand and held it open for her. And nice. I hope she… “Listen, take care of yourself, Joss, alright?” 
Now inside her room, she kicked off her shoes and shrunk an inch or two, but maintained eye contact with him as she did. “I will. You take care of yourself too, Benj.” Benj? No one calls me… just Zach. Normally he was very adamant that people address him by his full name. He’d gone through the trouble of changing it, and didn’t think it needed to be changed any further. Occasionally  he’d meet someone whose use of a nickname he didn’t feel compelled to correct. But before he could question it, she was speaking again. “I hope your w-“ She sighed as Benjamin felt one eyebrow fly up his forehead. “I hope everything works out for you and your wife.” 
The anger that was in her eyes back in the pub when he first told her about how Julia had stood him up was gone completely, replaced by hopeful innocence. She means it. “Thanks,” he tapped his thumb where it rested against the door. “Really, thank you. I… I hope it will too.” 
She pressed her lips together in a tight line before letting them spread into a slight smile, almost as though to keep herself from saying anything else. “Well, goodnight, Benjamin. See ya next time.” 
“See ya next time.” He said the words to the empty room, sighing as he looked around, noting that only one pair of shoes sat near the desk. I hope there won’t be next time. For either of us.
The buzz of his phone where it was buried in the duvet snapped him from the melancholy thought that Jocelyn was waking up just as alone in the same building, and that they probably weren’t the only ones. Uncovering it, he paused before swiping to answer, spending a few seconds looking at the contact photo. In it, he had one arm around her, both of their faces frozen in joy. When was the last time she laughed like that? The photo in question was one from the previous Christmas, and he blinked to clear his mind of the thought that it could have very well been then. He swiped his thumb across the screen to close the picture and answered the call. 
“Good morning, Julia.” He sat up straighter and ran his free hand through his hair again before bringing it back down over his beard. I should shave before she gets here, she likes it shorter. Shaking his head he banished that thought. No. “How did you sleep?” 
“Benjamin?” Her tone sounded exasperated and that uneasy feeling came back to the pit of his stomach. He dropped his hand from his face to his lap and shut his eyes. Yes, who else, you called- “Benjamin? Can you? This reception is horrendous.” 
“Julia? J-” he paused waiting as she continued to mumble about the poor connection. “Julia.” 
She huffed. “Oh, can you hear me now? Listen, I just wanted to let you know that I’m on the train and I’ll be there in about an hour so-” Benjamin sniffed as he listened and that caught her ear. “Benjamin are you still in bed? Are you going to be ready when I get there? If you meet me in the lobby we can get breakfast, just like we planned on doing.” Yes, but we planned on waking up together before that breakfast, you’re the one who- “Hello?” 
“Yes, I’m just waking up now, but-” she scoffed and he bit the inside of his cheek. If she were here we’d both still be asleep but because she changed the plans I have to be on her schedule. “Julia? I’ll let you go since the reception is shite. I’ll meet you in the lobby, don’t worry I won’t be late.” When I say I’m going to be somewhere at a certain time, I follow through.
She’d made some comment about how she hoped that he’d be in a cheerier mood when she arrived and it was all he could do to just wish her a safe trip and end the call. “Everything has to be a fight, doesn’t it?” He posed the question to the unslept-on pillow beside him before swatting it with his fist, the rose from the bed to get into the shower. I definitely need a smoke before she gets here. 
Forty-five minutes later, Benjamin was showered, dressed, and had made a cup of tea from the plug-in machine in the room. He drank it as he looked out the window at the city as it came to life under the Saturday morning sun. He often wondered about the lives of the people he observed at libraries and train stations, and found himself doing the same about the tiny figures moving on the sidewalk below. Were any of them in his shoes this morning? Questioning the strength of their marriage? Or were some of them still heading towards an event that would turn this day into the best of their lives? Had anyone just gotten good news? Or bad? And did they have anyone to share it with? Finishing his tea, he looked into the empty cup and set it down on the desk. Worry about yourself, Greene. 
He shoved his feet into his shoes and grabbed his jacket, checking to be sure that the nearly empty pack of cigarettes and his lighter were still in the pocket. Adding his phone, wallet and key, he left the room and headed for the elevator. As luck would have it, it stopped four times on the way down, cutting into the amount of time he’d have to try to smoke away the nausea he felt. I shouldn’t have to. It seemed as though it was the millionth time he’d had some permutation of that thought in that last 24 hours alone. Eyes on the numbers above the door, he reached into his pocket to retrieve a cigarette, readying it between his lips as the L lit up. The doors opened, and he allowed the others in the car with him to exit first, stepping out as it emptied, and striding for the hotel’s front doors. I can meet her outside, wait for her t-
“Benjamin?” 
He stopped in his tracks at the sound of Joss’ voice before turning to see the woman just a few steps behind him. How is she so chipper this morning? Last night she was… There were no obvious signs that she was paying for her night of excess, and he felt himself smile remembering how he was able to bounce back a decade ago, too. 
“I thought that was you.” She closed the distance with two more steps, long hair swept into a braid and hanging over her shoulder. 
“Jocelyn, hi, good mor-” 
She reached up suddenly and snatched the cigarette straight out of Benjamin’s mouth, his surprise not even giving him time to react. Oh, alright. “I thought you told me last night that you were quitting this shit, Benj.” 
“Benj?” 
Oh, bloody fucking hell. The voice that came from behind him was unmistakably Julia’s, and she was unmistakably off-put by what she had just walked into. Benjamin shut his eyes and cursed again under his breath before turning to face his wife. “Julia, you’re h-” 
“What else did you tell her last night, Benj?” Julia narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest as she moved closer to where he and Jocelyn were standing. Oh for fuck’s sake. He heard Jocelyn’s gasp beside him. “This who you were with when you told me you were at the pub last night?” She pointed at Jocelyn, her face twisted into an accusatory scowl. Unfuckingbelievable.  
“Julia. I was at the pub last night, like I told you.” He tried to stay calm as he explained, even as he could see that it wouldn’t do any good. “This is Jocelyn, and she was also-” 
“Yes I gathered that she was also at the pub, Benjamin.” She looked the other woman up and down before scoffing and turning to face him. “So this is what you- who you’re attracted to-” 
“Julia, please don’t do this.” He stepped closer to his wife, trying to put a hand on her shoulder but she shook his touch away, instead advancing on Jocelyn. 
“Did he tell you that he’s married? Hmm? Or do you not even care?” She addressed Jocelyn directly even though Benjamin still stood between the two women. Oh that’s it. 
“Julia.” The tone he used was as harsh as he could make his voice, and it bothered even himself to hear it, but it had the intended effect, getting Julia’s attention off of the young, innocent woman she was accusing of terrible things. “We are not going to do this here.” 
Before she could respond, they were both shocked to hear Joss speak up, clearing her throat to speak. Oh, shit, that’s not going to help. “It’s...Julia, right?” Though she’d been stunned at Julia’s treatment of her, she recovered completely, speaking in an even tone. “That’s your name?” Julia just stiffened, straightening her spine and staring at the younger woman who shrugged. “Look, it’s fine if you don’t want to talk to me, but you at least need to listen.” 
Benjamin’s eyes grew double their size as Julia got ready to strike back but Joss was quicker. 
“No, listen. This is important. You need to hear what I have to say, because what you are saying? About Benjamin?” She shook her head. “It’s…” she blew out a breath and Benjamin was thankful that she’d skipped any number of words that she could have used there. “Last night? I was on the shitty end of...of, well a shitty end.” 
Benjamin shifted his weight as he watched the suspicion flicker in his wife’s eyes and heard the truth in Jocelyn’s words. Julia stood silently beside him as a few people milled about around them, coming and going to and from the front desk.
“I’d just gotten dumped in the absolute worst way. And your husband? He was nice to me. That’s all. That’s all he did, all he’s guilty of. He saw that I was having a bad night, and he listened to me.” 
“He listened to you, did he? Did he-” 
“Oh for Christ’s sake, Julia.” Jocelyn’s foot stomped slightly and the anger that he saw in her last night was returning. “Did you know… did he tell you that he had brought you flowers?” 
What? Eyes darting from Julia to Jocelyn, his mouth fell open. I didn’t tell her about the flowers, I…
“Do you know I can’t for the life of me tell you the last time anyone has given me flowers? And I know, I know you truly don’t care about me, but the point is that you’ve got it all wrong here.” She shook her head again and looked over at Benjamin before lifting her shoulders in yet another shrug and turning back to Julia. “I’m just a train station cliche. Just like...like the parents sending their kids off to school for the first time, or the street performers on the platform, or the dramatic romantic reunion straight out of some dumb movie. I’m…” Jocelyn let out a breath, smiling even as watery tears filled the bottom lids of her eyes. “I’m just the jilted tourist, just the unlucky girl who got on a plane and crossed an ocean with stars in her eyes only to end up with…”  The tears finally fell as she dropped her arms, and Benjamin felt his forehead wrinkle, his eyebrows coming together. No one deserves that and she doesn’t… this isn’t her responsibility. 
“Jocelyn, stop, you don’t have to-”  he stepped forward as Julia’s head whipped around to follow him. “You have nothing to-” He could hear Julia scoff, the dry, bitter sound making him wince. I’m not just going to let her fight my battle for me, she owes me nothing, and… he glanced over at the disbelief still etched into his wife’s face. And I’m not going to let that stand either. “Julia, I’ve already told you that nothing-” 
“Benjamin, I wasn’t done.” What? He blinked, twisting to look over at her. She...wants to say all this? He could still feel Julia’s eyes boring into him, but he simply stopped talking, and a second later he saw her shift her attention to the other woman out of the corner of his eye. Joss shook her head and blew out a breath that ruffled her hair, one hand coming up to sweep a stray strand away from the side of her nose and back behind her ear. She pressed her lips together and fixed her eyes on Julia. “Your husband? He’s not a cliche. And I would know, I just got my heart stomped on by one. But him?” She tipped her chin in Benjamin’s direction without looking away from the woman. “He’s not just the unfaithful family man or, or the self important scholar. He’s a genuine person, Julia. And if you can’t see that I feel very sorry for you.” 
“Oh, that is quite enough from you, you-” 
“Julia.” Benjamin reached for her shoulder and was unsurprised to feel her tense up under his touch. His eyes narrowed as she pressed her lips into a thin line. “We’re done here. I don’t-” He shook his head, dropping his hand. “I’m going home. You can...do what you like.” A wounded look surfaced in her eyes, and though he knew he hadn’t done anything to put it there, it still made his stomach twist. This isn’t right. But he was through with letting her hurt always eclipse his own. She had done nothing but hurt him over the last day, and watching her behave this way with Jocelyn only made it worse. That’s not the woman I fell in love with. He was starting to wonder if that woman had ever been completely real. He blinked, eyes darting from Julia to Jocelyn and back again. “But you’re not going to treat this woman like she’s done something to you when the only one you have to blame right now is yourself.” 
That superficial hurt in his wife’s eyes sunk back into their depths as they hardened off and cooled, but she scrunched up her nose and turned away from the younger woman, moving to stand near a large planter to wait for Benjamin. He knew Jocelyn wouldn’t get an apology and that this was as good as it was going to get, and it was embarrassing but it was all that he could ask for. Fine. “Jocelyn?” He turned again in her direction, calling her name just as she was hoisting the straps of her backpack over her shoulders. She looked up then, using the cuff of one sleeve to wipe her face. He didn't quite know what he wanted to say. He was only sorry for the way that Julia had behaved, not for the way that their paths had crossed, and he had decided that he was done apologizing for his wife’s actions. “How...how did you know about the-” 
She gave him a sad smile. “I saw you toss them in the trash before you came upstairs to the pub.” She scratched her hairline with one finger. “I was...I’d gone out to try to call Eddie again and I saw and…well I’m not sure why, but it made me not want to call him. Probably because I’d just seen that there were, that there are better men out there.” 
He swallowed. Damn. “Look, I-” 
She cut him off. “It’s okay, Benjamin.” Nodding, she adjusted her bag. “I uh...I was able to switch some things around with my flights and I’m,” she gave him a laugh that sounded hopeful if not still sad. “I’m off to Amsterdam and Brussels for a few days. Fuck Eddie, right?” 
He had to smile, even after everything. Good for you. “Right.” She’s going to be just fine. 
“Good luck with everything, Benjamin.” She’d given him one last smile, then turned and exited the hotel. 
With Jocelyn gone, Julia felt it was safe to come back over, but Benjamin stopped her from saying anything. “I’m still going home, Julia. If you want to spend time with me this weekend, we can do it there, talking about this, about what’s...about what’s happening with us. Bit I won’t,” he sighed. “I won’t pretend that everything’s fine while we look at knick knacks and talk about books. I think we owe each other more than that.” She blinked at him, her face stony. “I’m going back upstairs to collect my things. If you want to come back with me, you can wait here but if not...I’ll see you at the house, Julia.” 
Though it went against everything he thought he had to do as her husband, he turned and left his wife standing in the lobby, hoping that this was the first attack in the fight to save their marriage, and not one that would cause it to crumble. But I have to do something. He thought of Joss, taking her situation and trying to better it. 
I have to do something to fight for myself or else what’s the point of fighting for us? 
The elevator doors closed. Don’t, Benj. Don’t ask questions that you don’t want the answers to. Don’t think, just try.
.
.
.
THANK YOU FOR READING!! If you would like to be added to the tags for any of my other Benjamin stories or anything else, please let me know! 
@something-tofightfor​ @malionnes​ @its-my-little-dumpster-fire​ @suchatinyinfinity​ @suchatinyinfinity​ @gollyderek​ @thesumofmychoices​ @becs-bunker​ @elanor-of-imladris​ @traeumerinwitzhelden​ @obscurilicious​ @octosapiens​ @luminex3​ @songtoyou​ @dearmarii​ @pheedraws​ @alraedesigns​ @valkblue​ @fific7​
27 notes · View notes
Note
Could you do one with one of my favorite cliche tropes ever? Jaskier and Reader got a room for the night on their journey and *dramatic pause* ....There was only one bed. (I have friends irl who are totally okay with platonic cuddling and its genuinely the best thing in the world. I wanna sleep in Jask's arms 😭)
Fandom: The WitcherPairing: Jaskier x ReaderWord Count: 2,454Rating: ETaglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak a/n: The other day I was thinking about how people will be like “I mean since you like tropes…” and then give me a delicious morsel of a prompt and I actually muttered “if you think you’re getting through this blog without a ‘there’s only one bed’ fic in here somewhere you don’t know who you’re messing with” BUT YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHO YOU’RE MESSING WITH DEAR READER AND I SALUTE YOU!
Tumblr media
You were both exhausted by the time you reached the inn. The trek had taken longer than you anticipated, so long that even Jaskier went quiet, trying to conserve whatever energy he had left to focus on making it to the blessed respite of a warm bed. Jaskier went up to get your keys and when he came back and held out one you thought he must have dropped the other one and went back with him to get yours.
“We only have one room left,” the innkeeper explained.
“You know what that’s fine, it’s fine, come on Jask,” you said, waving at the innkeeper and steering your friend towards the stairs. Both of you woke up a bit when you walked into the room and found one bed.
“Oh.”
“Ah.”
The two of you stood awkwardly in the doorway for a moment and then Jaskier summoned up a smile and said, “I will take the floor, honestly I could sleep just as well there as anywhere else.”
“Don’t be stupid, you’ll take the bed,” you argued.
“No, no, you really need to get some rest,” he insisted.
“Look this is crazy we’ll just… both sleep on the bed,” you said, focusing intently on the wall above Jaskier’s head instead of looking him in the eyes as you offered.
“Well… I mean… It is a big bid,” he said, suddenly fixated on the rug you both stood on. You glanced back towards each other and laughed a little nervously.
“It’s just a bed,” you said, moving to pull off your boots.
“Right, of course,” he agreed, doing the same. You both disrobed quietly after that, turning away from each other to strip down to as little as possible before blindly fumbling towards the bed and pulling the blankets back. The awkwardness was forgotten as you both sank into the mattress uttering dueling groans of relief to be off of your feet and on something softer than the hard ground. You rolled to face each other, sleepy grins on both of your faces.
“This is fine,” you say reassuringly, trying to permanently banish any lingering sense of unease.
“That is easily the least enthusiastic response someone has had to being in a bed with me but I’ll take it,” Jaskier says with a wry smile. You shake your head and laugh, grateful for the dim candlelight that hides the blush that creeps over your cheeks as you begin to think about what being in bed with Jaskier usually entails. For some people. Other people.
“Goodnight Jaskier,” you say, turning around to blow out the candle.
“Goodnight Y/N,” he says as the room goes dark and smell of smoke tinges the air.
You both nestle into the bed, shifting into your usual positions and knock into each other accidentally, Jaskier’s arm wrapping around your neck and your ass pressing up against him in a bit of a couple of off-kilter spoons. You both murmur apologies and try to laugh, the nervous tension back in the room as you both silently agree that the best way to maneuver this is to just turn your backs on each other and face the walls. You lay in total silence for five agonizing minutes. You know the sound of Jaskier when he’s sleeping, the even rhythm of his breath when he’s resting and the occasional snores he would deny to his dying breath. He knows you aren’t asleep because he can feel your foot fidgeting, a reminder of how close you are but in so many ways how still so very far.
“Are you awake?” you ask finally.
“Yes, are you”” he asks. You scoff and you can feel and hear him flip over, the blanket letting in a little burst of cold air before he wraps it back down around him.
“Why is this so hard?” Jaskier asks, his voice much closer than you anticipated, so close you can feel his breath on the back of your neck.
“Something else you usually hear from people in bed with you?” you tease.
“If they have to ask either they’re far too humble or something has gone terribly wrong,” he replies. You bite your lip, wishing you hadn’t brought it up. Or wishing I could bring it up. You groan into your pillow.
“What’s going on over there? Talk to me,” Jaskier implores, his hand gently brushing back the hair that’s fallen into your face. You finally roll back around to face him. Though it’s dark you can see the outline of his features and he yours.
“I don’t know it just feels different. Not bad but… there’s something about a bed, you know?” you ask. You can tell he’s biting back several cheeky remarks but he just nods.
“But we’ve shared spaces much smaller than this one,” he says, “I don’t disagree with you, there is… something… about a bed…”
If you could see him clearly you’d see the way his eyes have fallen to your lips, the way his fingers rise up, itching to touch them, before he pulls them back and sighs frustratedly.
“Y’know statistically speaking people spend more time sleeping in beds than… other… activities,” You say, trying desperately to find a way to logic the awkwardness out of things.
“I may be an outlier in that study,” Jaskier says.
“Well I am a big sleeper,” you say, firmly barreling past that comment and trying to pretend your heart isn’t beating a bit faster and that you can’t feel his hand resting on the bed inches from your waist.
“Oh yeah? Sleep around a lot?” Jaskier asks. These are jokes you traded in the daytime but it wasn’t the daytime anymore and his works sounded fraught with meaning that you don’t want to believe you’re imagining. The hand by your waist inches a little closer and you move into it, eager to feel him even if just his fingertips through the fabric of your nightshirt.
“Can I just – ”
“Would it be – ”
“You go first,” Jaskier says.
“No, you,” you insist.
“I was going to say can I just… hold you? If that isn’t weird?” he asks.
“No! No I mean no it won’t be weird, yes hold me,” you say, tripping over the words. He sidles up closer to you and tucks your pillow over his left arm, pulling you in to rest your head there while his body aligns with yours, his right arm wrapping around your waist and his face burrowed in your hair. You sigh contentedly, your left hand taking his right.
“What were you going to say?” he whispers, face inches from your ear.
“Oh just… going to ask for this actually,” you say. His arms tighten around you in a way that would be painful if you didn’t crave it so much. You’d been trying to keep these feelings at bay, focusing on your friendship with Jaskier, the bard who smiled for all but received few in return. The man who was a friend to everyone but had few who would call him the same. But he was also the man who made your heart twist every time he smiled at you, who listened when you were upset and held you when you cried on your worst days. And somewhere along the way friendship turned to something different, not more, that would be a disservice to the love you felt for him as a friend, but definitely different. Harder to explain and deeply dangerous.
You felt him sigh heavily, the movement shifting your closely pressed bodies.
“You alright back there?” you asked, trying to keep your voice light.
“Yes, more than alright. We should have done this a long time ago,” he said.
“Oh?” you asked, hoping he didn’t notice the way your voice cracked at the word.
“Yes,” he said decisively, “You’re so very…”
Your heart pounded as your brain scrambled to anticipate the word he would say next. Loveable? Cuddle-able? Fuckable?
“Touchable,” he says, his voice growing soft as he whispers the word into the crook of your neck. The hand holding his tightens and you sigh heavily, the motion causing you to wriggle a bit against him and you hear him mutter “fuck” under his breath as you do.
“You ok?” you ask.
“Mmhmm,” he says, terribly unconvincingly. He’s pulling away a bit more, shifting awkwardly and you contrarily back up closer, eager to keep the cuddle going if that’s all you can have with him. When you press back up against him you can feel something new and Jaskier’s breath catches in his throat.
“Oh,” you breath.
“I’m sorry,” Jaskier murmurs, “You’re just so close and so soft and so you and… fuck.”
You wrapped your leg around his, leverage as you grind against him closer.
“What was that you were saying?” you ask. His hand lowers and grips the ass that’s planted right in his lap.
“You know what you’re doing,” he says accusatorily.
“I do. But what are you going to do about it?” you ask. You crane your neck to meet his eyes, close enough you can see the vibrant blue. Your lips are parted slightly in anticipation and you see Jaskier’s eyes fall to them mere seconds before he presses his against them, a kiss neither of you expected yet both of you had been waiting for far longer than you knew. His hand cups your face, and you turn your body to face him, giving you both greater access to each other’s bodies. He wraps both long legs around yours, using his whole body to touch every part of you can he reach. His hands snake up your thigh, up the opening of your nightdress to touch the soft skin of your waist, pawing at you with little grace and even less inhibition.
“Been wanting to do this for so long,” he says, the words coming out in gasps as he explores the sensitive skin on your collar bones and around your neck. You run your hands over his arms, enjoying the new parts of him to learn like the dip on his shoulder blade where muscle meets bone and the telltale goosebumps that follow in the wake of your touch. He crawls over you and you love the weight of him. He’s heavier than you expected but you can tell he’s trying to support some of his weight on the arm that grips the headboard. His mouth travels further, tracing the sensitive flesh of your breasts with his skillful tongue that elicits soft sighs and hitched gasps from your throat. You reach beneath him as he focuses on lavishing attention on you and wrap your hand around his cock. The mouth encircling your nipple bites down in surprise and you yelp, a strangled sound that is equal parts pleasure and surprise. He looks up at you and his expression sends a thrill of adrenaline through you. The more he touches you the hungrier he seems to get and you want nothing more than to sate his hunger in any way you can. Your grip tightens and but his moans are muffled as he keeps exploring your body with his mouth until he’s pulled far enough away that you can no longer touch him. He rests on his elbows, lifting up your thighs and pulling you in close. He looks up at you and you try to commit the sight of him between your legs to memory, wondering ever so briefly how much it would cost to commission a portrait of it when he slides a finger up the length of your slit, parting you with nimbly fingers. His fingers are quickly replaced with his tongue, his fingers digging into your thighs possessively to hold you still as you writhe beneath him. One hand tangles in his hair as the other grips the sheets on the bed, trying to anchor yourself. He’s merciless as he teases and provokes you, refusing to give pause long enough for you to catch your breath. He drives your first orgasm out of you with his mouth, the next with his fingers, determined to use every tool at his disposal in the pursuit of your pleasure. He slides back up the length of your body, kissing his way back up til his mouth meets yours again, his face damp and reddened and grinning with satisfaction but still hungry, your insatiable Jaskier.
“Hey,” he whispers, nudging your nose with his playfully.
“Hey,” you whisper back, brushing your lips against his still-smiling lips in the whisper of a kiss.
“I’m going to fuck you very hard and quicker than I’d like because I am very tired but I would never forgive myself if I fell sleep before I could feel your sweet, wet cunt wrapped around my cock. If you want,” he adds the last part casually as though his words don’t already have you trying to lift your body to meet his.
“I need to hear you say that you want it,” he says when you don’t say anything, distracted by the soft kisses he brushes against your lips.
“I want you,” you say, the words too small to contain the truth they hold, “I want you, Jaskier.”
He kisses you again, slower and deeper until he’s stolen your breath and then you feel him enter you, slowly though you can feel him tremble slightly as he tries to force himself to move cautiously to ensure he doesn’t hurt you. Once he’s buried himself fully in you, his face resting against your chest, his breathing labored and your hands gently stroking his hair. It’s a peaceful moment and then he draws himself back up, placing one hand on the headboard and the other on your shoulder, looking at you adoringly as he draws out of you slowly and thrusts back in so hard the bed shakes. He watches your face for signs of discomfort and you arch your back up against him, eager for more. He takes the cue, the eternal musician, and he fucks you harder, your moans collapsing into breathless gasps. You can’t tell if the words he says, beautiful and soft uttered through gritted teeth, are filthy or fawning but the sound of his voice is your undoing as it always has been, as you always knew it would be. He comes with your name on his lips and it is the sweetest song he’s ever sung.
You curl up together, sweaty and giggling, Jaskier’s mouth still kissing any patch of skin that comes near enough; your shoulder as you pull the blankets over him, your neck as you shift your hair out of the way, and you fall asleep wrapped around each other.
306 notes · View notes
themostop · 3 years
Text
I tried using AI Dungeon as a dating simulator. I ended up with quite an interesting crossover. (Going to have to make it multiple posts because it was too long.)
You are Makoto Naegi, The Ultimate Lucky Student. You have no idea what that means, but you're sure glad it isn't 'The Ultimate Loner'.
> You look around.
You see the school grounds in all its glory, with the sun shining down on it. There is a small lake nearby which has a few rocks sticking out of it.
> You go to school.
You walk to school, with your head down. Suddenly, you feel something hit it. You look up, and find yourself staring at the back of a person.
> You say "Sorry!"
You turn around, to find yourself looking at a girl with long black hair and brown eyes. You immediately apologize.
"Ah... I-I'm sorry."
"You're a little late, aren't you?"
> You say "I'm not that late, am I?"
She laughs a bit.
"No, you're not. Just go straight until you get to the front of the school, then turn right and walk all the way to the Discipline Hall."
"OK..."
> You go straight until you get to the front of the school.
You walk until you reach the front of the school, then turn right.
After walking for a while, you come to a Discipline Stand. Two students are waiting there, one male and one female.
You recognize the male as your classmate Kiyotaka, also known as "The Ultimate Moral Compass." The other is from another class. She's Momo Yaoyorozu, known as "The Eternal Maiden."
You sigh a bit when you notice your homeroom teacher is standing not far from the stand as well. She's waving to you.
> You wave back.
She nods, then quickly waves to Kiyotaka as well. He blushes a bit and nods.
Before you know it, the bell rings, and class begins.
> You focus on the class.
Class goes by pretty slowly for you. You struggle to pay attention. When class is over, you walk home with the other students.
But something trips a switch in your mind, and suddenly you remember something.
You remember that you promised to meet with your friends at the local hang-out spot, so you quickly hurry home and get ready.
Head to the local hang-out spot.
You walk to the place. The sun is setting as you enter.
"Hey, what took you so long?"
You turn to see your classmate, Kasumi Goto, or
"Master Thief" as she is also known.
"Huh?"
"I waited for an hour, but you never came. What happened?"
"Oh... I had to..."
> You do your homework.
"Why are you here so late?"
She ignores your comment and sits on the swing next to you.
"What took you so long?"
"I had to..."
> You say "Do my homework."
She sighs, then nods, and begins to do your homework for you.
"Ah... I forgot to ask, how did your meeting with Master Han go?"
She shrugs.
> You say "Was it that bad?"
"It was fine."
Kasumi shakes her head and looks away from you.
"I can't say too much, but I think we've finally reached an understanding."
"Which is?"
"That we need to leave the city."
"What? Why?"
"Because that's all I can tell you."
"Why not?"
> You say "Kasumi, if you and Master Han plan on leaving the city, then I'll come too."
Kasumi turns to face you, and her facial expression turns into one of annoyance.
"What the hell, I thought you would be happy. Why shouldn't I come?"
> You say "Kasumi, you and I are close. I don't know what if do without you."
She sighs and shakes her head.
"You'd have to go it alone, without anyone."
"So?"
> You say "Kasumi, let me come with you."
"You can't afford to lose me, that's why I have to go."
"I'll..."
> You kiss Kasumi.
She backs away from you and turns her head away.
"I can't do this now, maybe some other time."
She gets up from the swing and walks towards the slide.
> You follow her.
You walk to the slide and sit down next to her.
"Please, come with me."
She shakes her head and gets up from the slide.
"I'm sorry, but I can't right now."
> You say "But Kasumi … I love you."
She stares at you blankly.
"I'm sorry, but that ship has sailed. Goodbye."
You sigh and get up from the slide.
"Goodbye, then."
> You go home.
You walk home the next day, trying to forget about your classmate.
While you're walking, you suddenly get a call. You see a notification pop up on your phone.
It's from an unfamiliar number.
> You answer it.
"Hello?"
"Hello, is this the ghost with the most?"
You pause for a moment.
"Yes."
"You are awarded five points. Say, are you free right now?"
> You say "I guess?"
"Great. I've got a job for you."
"Now? I just got here."
You are very confused by this phone call.
"Just now? Oh, you must mean now. Now is good."
"OK. Now, come on over to the Tender Trap."
The Tender Trap?
"Now?"
> You say "Where is The Tender Trap?"
"It's on State street. It should be easy to find. Don't dawdle."
With that, the caller hangs up. You take a moment to gather your thoughts before doing anything.
> You go to The Tender Trap.
You arrive at the Tender Trap, and you're not surprised to see that it's a strip club.
Frank Sinatra is there performing.
"Damn, I guess it's a slow night." You think to yourself as you enter the club.
The bouncer lets you in for free since you're Hanon's friend.
> You thank the bouncer.
You thank the bouncer, but he's too busy drooling over Hanon to care.
You walk through the dark club until you reach a table in the back corner.
Charles-Louis Hanon is sitting there. He looks at you and smiles.
"Glad you could make it, friend." He says.
"What's going on?" You ask.
"Not sure myself. Let's sit and I'll explain."
> You sit with Charles-Louis Hanon.
Charles-Louis Hanon sits next to you at the table in the back corner of the club. He looks nervous, but smiles to make up for it.
> You say "Hanon, were you the one who called me here?"
"You got it."
"Well, I don't know anything about what you're trying to set up. What is it?"
"Nothing too serious. Just a simple heist."
"Wait, what?"
He wants you involved in a heist?! That's absurd!
"Relax. It's completely safe. I don't think you have anything to worry about."
That sounds too easy. Maybe he's lying or simply trying to get you involved for some reason.
> You say "Wouldn't it be better to ask Kasumi?"
"Are you sure about that? I mean, the plan is to get a bunch of valuables and then split. I don't think you'd want to be bothered with such a thing."
Alright.
> You say "But, isn't she The Master Thief?"
"Not in this heist. This one is exclusive to members only. However, she's been briefed on the details and owns a share of what we steal."
This still sounds too easy.
> You say "Well, I'm not entirely sure this is a good idea… but okay. I'm in."
You have no idea why you said that. You just don't trust this guy. If it's too good to be true, it probably is.
But still. This could be an opportunity to get to be with Kasumi again. Maybe you can ask her out.
"Well I'm glad to hear you're joining us." Hanon beams.
"So what's the heist?"
> You listen to Hanon's instructions.
Hanon pauses and stares at you for a moment. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small vial.
> You say "What's that?"
"It's sleeping pills. I think it's best we use them."
You don't trust what he's saying, but you don't know how to argue with him either.
> You take the sleeping pills.
You swallow two of the little blue pills. They taste terrible and feel even worse going down.
But they work wonders.
You feel your eyes beginning to weigh down.
"Goodnight, sweet dreams."
> You sleep.
You wake up in your own bed. You're exhausted and feel like you haven't slept in days.
> You make a perception check.
You look around and don't see anything out of place. You decide to go back to sleep.
You wake up in the middle of the night and notice the moon beside you.
> You walk to the moon.
It's a clear night, so you figure you should get some fresh air.
You walk outside and take in an awe-inspiring breath of the night's crisp air.
> You wonder what Hanon wants you to do for the heist.
You walk back into the house to ask, when you are suddenly stopped by a man in a dark blue suit. The man points a pistol at your chest.
"Don't move." He says.
> You say "Who are you?"
"Nobody of importance. Now, give me your stuff."
You raise your hands to show you don't have any weapons and try to keep calm.
> You do a perception check.
The man sounds very distant. You can barely hear him, let alone understand what he said.
But a split second later, your hands interpret his order. They move on their own to give up your stuff.
> You try to steal the man's gun.
You figure you can either give him a black eye or a bloody nose, but whatever works.
You rush forward to try to steal the man's gun, but this is a split-second quicker than you expected. You manage to grab the barrel of the gun, but it's much heavier than you thought and you're not fast enough. You feel the barrel twist in your hands as you slip off.
> You hope you get lucky.
Unfortunately, your weight isn't sufficient enough to keep you from loud sound of a gunshot going off.
You hit the cold ground hard. You feel intense pain shoot through your chest.
> You kick the man in the balls.
You feel pain shoot through your foot when you try to do this.
The man grunts and stumbles backward, dropping his gun after the first shot is fired.
> You grab his gun.
You grab the gun by the handle, but the man kicks it out of your hands.
The man, perhaps realizing how noisy all this fighting has been, aims his gun at you and fires.
> You dodge.
You make a dodge check and manage to avoid the bullet.
The man reloads and aims at you again.
You dodge once more and manage to avoid being shot again.
> You throw your shoe at him.
You throw a shoe at the man and it hits him in the head. He grunts in pain and drops his gun.
But as soon as he does so, you grab the gun and aim at him.
> You say "Who are you?"
"SOS." He says. "We have been sent to secure the Professor's experiments."
"What do you want from me?"
"Nothing. We just need you to escape, that's it."
> You say "Then why did you attack me?"
"I thought you were the Professor."
"Why did you think that?"
> You say "I don't look anything like a professor. I'm 19."
"Sorry." The man says.
"Fuck you." You say and pull the trigger.
The gun clicks.
"I took out the... bullet." You say.
"It's OK."
> You say "I'm going to go commit theft now. Bye."
You turn and leave, grabbing your bag as you go.
"HEY!" The man says. "You can't just take that car!"
You walk outside and into the clear night air.
> You go to Hanon.
You walk around town until you find a hotel. They have a large, old parking lot filled with abandoned cars. You find a late 90s red convertable and drive it over to the lab.
> You give the gun and the car to Hanon.
You get out of the car, and approach the large glass door leading into the lab. You press your hands against it and look through the security camera inside.
You recognize the man as the one who stopped you earlier.
> You leave.
You feel the need to be on the move. You head to the other side of town and find a coffee shop. When you're done with your coffee, you decide to drive to the other side of town again.
2 notes · View notes
kellanswritingblog · 3 years
Text
The final day of @tmafantasyweek!  Today I went with the prompt Legend and combined it with the Tower prompt from earlier in the week.
I want to give a big thank you to the organizers of this event and to everyone who participated, it is so cool to see what everyone has come up with!
Basira heard tales of an incredible treasure at the top of the tower, but none before her proved strong or brave enough to survive the climb.  In the end, she finds neither gold nor gems, but instead a woman named Melanie, and they attempt to find a path to freedom together.
CW: heights, vertigo, isolation, cave-ins
Basira pushed through the rotting wooden door and stepped inside.  She knew her trials had just begun.
The journey to the tower was difficult enough, leading through treacherous woods, across stormy waters, and atop mountainous peaks.  Now, she had finally arrived, ready to claim the treasure that awaited whoever proved strong enough to reach the top.
She expected levels of monsters and constructs meant to stop anyone from climbing it, but instead she found nothingness.  No stairs, no floors, no enemies.  Only a rickety wooden ladder on the far side of the rounded wall that led upwards into clouds and fog.
The only sign that anyone else had ever attempted the climb was in the remains that scattered the ground.  Other treasure hunters, but they had lacked the finesse to scale into the heavens.
Basira removed her plate armor and set it near the door along with her other supplies, save for an extra length of rope and a few pitons, just in case.  She didn’t need any extra weight pulling her down.
And then she began the climb.
The ladder creaked with every step, and the rope holding it together threatened to fray with the slightest wrong touch, but Basira continued to ascend, begging herself not to look down.  Looking up was little better, as the top of the tower was still so, so far away, hidden in mist.  Instead, she focused on the rungs in front of her, one after another.
Eventually, the ladder ended, and Basira thought for a brief moment that she’d arrived, that she’d made it to the top when so many others had failed.  She panted with exertion and hauled herself up over the edge, only to find a small outcropping, just large enough for her to rest upon, and still so much more distance to go.
She drank a bit of water from her canteen and regained her breath.  Once she felt she was ready to carry on, she looked up to plan her next moves, but there was no ladder.
From there, the only way up was to climb upon the stones themselves, to choose those that jutted out far enough from the rest to gain some purchase.  Basira tied her rope around her middle, making an impromptu harness, then attached it to a piton that she hammered into the wall by the outcropping.  That way, hopefully she wouldn’t fall all the way down if the rock gave out; but she still had no idea just how far up she had yet to climb.
And then she began, carefully testing her weight on each protruding stone before using it to pull herself up and up and up.  With the ladder, she could focus on the rung in front of her, but now she had to look up and down and all around in order to find the next safest step, which mean there was no avoiding just how much space there was between her and the ground below.  
She couldn’t focus on that.  She could only focus on the fabled treasure at the top.
After what felt like eons, a ceiling appeared above, and Basira knew she was almost there.  She had to be.  But her rope harness tugged at her as the length ran out.  If she wanted to reach the trapdoor up there, she would have to untie her safety line.
She perched carefully on the stones, and let the rope fall.  Without anything to catch her, she continued the climb.
The trapdoor was almost in her grasp, but her handhold crumbled beneath her grip and she very nearly began to plummet downwards.  She would not give up so easily.
With her last purchase on the wall, Basira pushed herself upwards and barely grabbed a hold of the ring on the trapdoor, saving herself from the descent. As the door fell open under her weight, a pristine wooden ladder folded out from the edge and gave her easy access to the top of the tower.
The legends said there would be jewels, gold, treasures beyond imagining. Instead, Basira found a relatively empty room.  It looked like a bedroom.
“Somebody actually made it?”
Basira had only just pulled herself into this room and pulled the trapdoor up to seal it; she didn’t want to trip and fall down there after all the work she’d done to reach the top.  Now, she turned to look at the voice that had spoken.
She was a small, wiry woman, with suspicion in her eyes and what looked like a knife in her hand.  
“Yeah, somebody did,” Basira replied.  She continued to sit on the floor and catch her breath, then shook her arms and legs as her muscles cried out in pain.  “I thought there was supposed to be treasure?”
“Oh?”
“They say there’s treasure up here.  I didn’t expect a person.”
“Right.”  The woman tucked the knife into her belt, and then came to sit on the floor across from Basira.  “I don’t know what to tell you.  I’ve been here as long as I can remember.  I don’t know about any treasure, it’s just me.”
Basira looked over at her, at the gauntness of her features and the paleness of her skin.
“You’ve been here forever?”
She shrugged.  “I don’t remember anything else, just this room.”  She gestured to the space around them.  It contained the basic amenities, but also a makeshift set of dummies along the far wall that had been slashed and pummeled.
“I’m… I’m sorry.”  
“I’m sorry too.  That there’s no treasure for you up here.”
Basira shook her head.  “My name is Basira.”
“Melanie.”
Basira held out her hand for Melanie to shake, and she did so.  
“You’re welcome to stay as long as you need,” Melanie added.  “I assume you’ll plan to climb back down at some point, but until you feel up to it, there’s room here.  And the food just magically appears three times a day, so I figure it’ll provide for you too.”
“Thank you.”  Basira stood, and Melanie followed suit.  “Have you never thought of making the climb down yourself?”
Melanie looked at her hands.  “I’m not strong enough.  I know I’m not.  I can try and keep myself fit up here, stop myself from atrophying, but I can’t make it down on my own.”
“We’ll find a way to get you out of here, I swear.”
She glanced at Basira and narrowed her eyes.  “I gave up on hopeful thinking a long time ago.  But… thanks.”
Basira stretched out her muscles and then collapsed into a chair that Melanie pulled over for her.  As she had suspected, a second plate of food appeared for Basira when it was dinner time.  Not that Basira had any idea what time it was or how long she had been climbing, just that it was long enough that she eagerly devoured the meal.
Melanie was quiet, examining Basira’s every move.  Occasionally she would ask a question about the outside world. She had read about it – at least her prison cell had a decent selection of books – but never experienced it herself, and there was so much she wanted to know.  Basira did her best to sate her curiosity, but didn’t make any more promises about getting her out so that she could experience the world for herself. Given Melanie’s disbelief before, Basira didn’t figure that it would help.
When Basira let out a lengthy yawn, Melanie chuckled.  
“I imagine you’re exhausted,” she remarked.
“I am going to be so sore tomorrow,” Basira laughed.  
“You’re welcome to the bed.  I can sleep on the couch.  Unless you don’t mind sharing.”
“I don’t mind if you don’t.  It’s your bed, after all.”
“Fair enough.”
Melanie offered Basira a spare change of clothes, and then they crawled into bed together.  They each clung to their side of the mattress, terrified of invading too far into the other’s space.  Basira might have made more apologies if she hadn’t been so exhausted, but, in her current state, she couldn’t even remember if she offered Melanie a proper goodnight or if she had fallen asleep without another word.
The next thing she knew, the floor was shaking.
“What’s going on?”  Basira exclaimed as she sat bolt upright, taking in the crumbling walls around them.
“I have no idea!  This has never happened before.”
Basira attempted to race to the window, but a chunk of ceiling fell in and blocked her path.  Instead, she threw herself back into the bed, and pulled Melanie into her arms to protect her from any other debris.  If the tower continued to collapse, it would do little good, but at least neither would die alone.
“I’m sorry…”  Melanie breathed as more of the ceiling clattered down around them.  She held tightly to Basira’s arms.
Basira didn’t have the chance to reply.  In a cloud of dust and smoke, they both had to shut their eyes.  The world shook around them and then, as suddenly as it had started, all was still.
When the coast was clear, they took in the collapse around them, coughing up the dust that got stuck in their lungs, but neither let go of the other. Instead of a locked tower room, they found themselves on the ground, the wonderfully safe and normal ground.  A few stone walls protruded from the landscape, but besides those and the untouched bed beneath the pair, there was no sign of the gigantic tower that had once stood atop the hill.  
“Are you alright?”  Basira asked.
Melanie nodded.  “You?”
“I think so.  That was… strange.”
Only now did Melanie extract herself from Basira’s grasp.  She looked around every which way, mesmerized by the tiny little details of the world that Basira overlooked.  
“I’m… free?”
“Looks like it.”
Melanie turned to Basira.  “I think you reaching the top somehow reset everything.  I don’t know how, but the whole place was magic to begin with, so…”
“Who cares how?  You can leave!  You can do whatever you want!”
“I don’t know what to actually do now that I have the chance.  Will you… will you help me?”
Basira smiled.  “Of course.”
Melanie slowly reached out and took Basira’s hand into her own.  Basira squeezed it gently and met Melanie’s excited and terrified gaze.  
“We’ll figure it out.  You and me.”
“Thank you for rescuing me.  And for everything else.”
Together, hand in hand, they made their way back along the path Basira had once trod alone.  They made slow progress, as Melanie darted around to examine the world she had never been permitted to experience, but Basira didn’t mind.  She couldn’t help but think that the legends were right, and that she had found a treasure atop that tower after all.
7 notes · View notes
rdrthingies · 3 years
Text
Cupid Writing Event
hey @freethesmolpenguins I’m your cupid this year for the rdr writing even! I hope you like some gay cowboys because OH BOY are you in for a mcfreaking treat! @rdr-secret-cupid
The ending is a little rushed but overall I am very proud with this and hope you’ll enjoy it was well!
Arthur had been working himself to the bone and just about everyone could see it. Always awake before dawn for a quick cup of coffee, or two, and do the day's chores. Feeding the chickens, bringing the maze to the wagon, chopping wood, and finally feeding the horses. It would be then that he would leave on his horse, just as the last person (typically Uncle or Swanson) got up, he would be gone.
He would return after nightfall, typically with blood and/or mud on him, and give the camp its share of his earnings that day. He would then scrape up the last, cold remnants of the stew and eat it quickly, as if he was a stray dog who had just found a stray porkchop. He would eat at the table while everyone else was gathered at the fire, sharing stories and drinks and a good laugh. It’s rare that Arthur would join, and when he does, it’s never long.
Hosea and Charles were the two who noticed this the most; Hosea incredibly concerned about the wellbeing of his son, and Charles concerned for his... friend-who-is-more-than-a-friend.
The two talked quietly even if there was no point in it, Arthur was never in camp when they discussed his health and wellbeing.
“You should take him out,” Hosea offered. “Take him hunting or... fishing or... I dunno just some place where he won’t get shot and can relax.” Hosea smiled a little, hands folded on the table, fingers drumming on the wood. Charles’ gaze was on one of the many cuts in the wood, hands in his lap as he spoke. “And how do you suggest I convince him to do that?” Hosea laughed a little, waving his hands. “I know you can be rather... persuasive with him. He listens to you... That and you are probably capable of hogtying him and putting him on the back of Taima.” The two laughed at that, Charles’ cheeks having a pink hue at the compliments.
Charles excused himself to do some more chores, a plan forming in his head.
That night Arthur returns, as usual, placing one hundred dollars in the box and two rabbits at the table, his eyes heavy with dark circles. Charles watched from the corner of his eye as Arthur almost stumbled up to the pot and poured himself some lukewarm stew, going to his cot and nearly collapsing onto it.
Charles waited until the man was halfway done before walking up to him normally, the pace slow but purposeful, head held high. “Hey Arthur, wanna go hunting with me tomorrow?”
Arthur looked up, eyes squinting, and even though he was exhausted to the bone he still found the strength to smile at his... whatever Charles was to him. “Sure but we’ve got meat for days, even Pearson is saying we have enough an’ that’s saying somethin.” The two chuckled lightly one deep and rich and the other breathy.
“I know but,” Charles shifted on his feet. “Well, I was gonna go up north a ways, by Cumberland Forest. There are some big elk up there. We can spend a couple of days there and by the time we come back with the Elk the camp will be needing the meat.”
It was a sound plan, a solid plan. Just a couple of days relaxing in the forest before providing the forest with food and supplies.
Only, “The camp needs more money than meat right now. I’ve been looking into leads an’ all that but...” He sighs, head hanging low, hands rubbing against each other to stop them from shaking. “Never seems to be ‘nough.”
“Arthur,” Charles kneels down before him, hand on his knee, forcing those breathtaking blue eyes to stare into his own. “You’ll do the camp no good if you collapse from exhaustion. Don’t think I haven’t seen it: waking up before dawn and coming back after dusk. You’ll run yourself ragged.” Arthur goes to argue, to insist that he’s fine, but Charles beats him to it. “You’re not fine, Arthur. You’re the opposite of fine, and one of these days it’s going to catch up to you and you’ll crash and burn.” He can’t help but raise his voice, needing Arthur to understand him. “Come with me for a couple of days, catch up on sleep outside of camp, away from those like Sean and Micah and Bill. Relax and-and let your body heal.”
Arthur thinks, mind fuzzy both with exhaustion and the fact that Charles’ hand was still resting on his knee, thumb rubbing circles onto it. It seemed like an eternity later before Arthur finally exhaled heavily, head slumping. “Alright... alright. I’ll go with you.”
Charles smiled brightly, “Thank you Arthur. It means a lot to me.” He stayed with Arthur for a little while longer, before finally standing and bidding goodnight to Arthur and crawling into his bedroll.
That morning Charles was up bright and early as always, packing his things onto Taima and grabbing a bit of breakfast for the road. The full sun was just above the horizon when Arthur got up, eyes droopy and suffering from bedhead.
He already had most all of his things packed onto his horse, as was common with the Enforcer. He brought Athena to Taima, the two mares nosing each other in greeting. Charles approaches them soon after, a rare smile on his face.
“Ready, Arthur?” Charles calls out, receiving a nod in answer. “Alright then, let’s get going. Might be able to get to the forest today.” The two mount up and trot out of camp, Hosea watching them leave with a cup of coffee and a satisfied smile on his wrinkled face.
They did manage to reach the forest just as the sun was beginning to dip beyond the horizon. They set up camp quietly and efficiently, always working as if in sync with one another. Arthur sets up the tent as Charles gets the campfire set up, the fire crackling to life just as Arthur nailed the last peg into the ground.
They cook up some meat and beans, eating their meal in relative silence, only some little things here and there. But it wasn’t an awkward silence, it never was with Arthur and Charles. Where most everyone else in the gang must talk, share stories or ask questions, Charles is fine with silence. It’s one of the first things Arthur noticed about the man and one he likes the most about the man. It’s such a refreshing thing to hear - or not hear - Arthur supposes. And through their hunting trips and robberies together, Charles has spoken more and more. About himself, about his culture and family... it was as if Arthur had earned enough respect from the man. Arthur doesn’t know when their relationship became... more. It just sort of happened, hunting trips that ended with them snuggled up against each other, Arthur’s head on his broad chest as Charles plays with his fair hair. They hadn’t kissed yet, hadn’t gone that far, but it was still something... special.
Before he knew it the sun had set and the moon and stars are twinkling in the night. Arthur had taken to doodling in his journal, drawing the scenery he had seen on the ride over, with Taima and Charles in front of him.
“Arthur,” Charles’ voice startles him, head lifting to the man beside him, suddenly his breath taken by the way the fire had reflected across the man’s face, illuminating his dark hair. “We should get to bed,” Charles speaks again, Arthur nods, but his mind is focusing on how he could possibly capture the man’s beautiful features. But finally, the two crawled into the tent and Arthur fitfully went to sleep.
There’s gunfire, it’s loud as if they’re firing right beside him, but he cannot focus on it. He can only focus on the bodies in front of him. Sean, Hosea, Lenny, Javier, Mary-Beth, Karen, Tilly, even Kieran was amongst the pile of bodies. Blood coated them in some way, Sean was missing half his face, Lenny had a hole in his stomach. Javier had a noose around his neck, blood coating it. Arthur couldn’t think, couldn’t talk, couldn’t breathe. He only stared as his family was all butchered before him, everyone but him.
“You failed us, Arthur.” A voice rang out, Dutch. Arthur lifted and searched, finding their leader, standing at the head of the bodies, face caved in, gunshots in him...
“You betrayed us!” He shouted again, it was like a knife in his chest. “If you had only worked harder for us, done more for us, then we could live. But you’re selfish, weak, pathetic!” Arthur could feel tears running down his face, sobbing, shaking his head. No, no this isn’t happening, they’re not dead. He’s not selfish, he’s not pathetic, he has done so much for this family for his family-
“Arthur!” Another voice echoed out, distant, a familiar voice. “Arthur!” It got louder, closer, someone’s approaching, but who?
“Arthur wake up!” Charles shook Arthur heavily, the older man snapping his eyes awake and gasping for air as if he was brought back to life. He began to panic, arms flailing around, eyes unfocused. Charles held him close, shushing him, arms running up and down his back. “It’s okay Arthur, it’s okay. It was just a dream, breathe for me.” Finally, slowly, Arthur calmed down. His mind catching up with his body, slumping against the broader man.
“Th-they all died,” Arthur muttered out, Charles’ face drawn with worry. “I-I killed ‘em.”
“Who?” Charles asked softly, still running his hand up and down his back.
“E-everyone. The gang I-I killed them.”
“It’s just a dream, Arthur-”
“No!” Arthur sat up, hands in his hair. “I-I’m going to get ‘em killed Charles! My laziness m-my selfishness it’s-! It’s going to get them killed!”
Charles kneeled before the man, hands gently taking the others, holding them. “Arthur, you are doing everything for them. You’re literally working yourself to death for them, Arthur.”
“But Dutch-”
“Don’t listen to Dutch,” Charles interrupts, voice like stone to get through to the man. “He puts too much pressure on you. Far too much. He gets onto you about money and jobs while Sean and Bill sit on their asses all day and get drunk. You have to take care of yourself. You’re just as much of this gang as the rest of us, if not more.” Arthur is quiet, blinking into Charles’ eyes, mouth hanging open.
Charles had never seen Arthur cry, never even seen him sad enough to cry. But now Arthur was crying in front of him, sobbing in front of him as his cracks. The weight of these past months, of being the workhorse, finally caving in on him. All Charles can do and bring him in close, soothing the man, humming a lullaby his mother used to sing to him. By the time Arthur had run out of tears, the sun was rising, but Charles did not dare stop holding the man. He fell asleep in his arms, cradled against his chest.
10 notes · View notes