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goldencherryhazz · 3 years

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my stress reliever

Sub!h x reader

Warnings: smut, oral (male receiving) fluff and some swearing

A/N: so the grammys are tomorrow and I am not prepared physically or mentally, so I decided to write a little something to calm myself. Its nearly 2am so there’s probably a load of mistakes! Pls don’t copy my work. Hope you enjoy!

It was the night before the Grammys and Harry had to admit he was feeling a bit stressed but even more nervous, he was so grateful for the fact that he would not only be opening the show, but that he had been nominated for not one, not two, but three Grammys.

When he got the phone call from his manager Jeff he was over the moon and y/n was jumping for joy, whilst hugging Harry, he was also pretty sure he saw a couple tears slip down her cheeks. That feeling lasted for weeks, but now with less than 24 hours to go the nerves had definitely set in and he didn’t know how to soothe them and had been basking in his troublesome thought for the past 40 minutes.

Y/n was currently out shopping for some essentials but Harry wanted her to be no where else except in his arms, they had both become a bit clingy towards each other during the pandemic, they had heard lots of couples break up or get divorces, but with Harry touring all over the globe and y/n having to stay put for her own jobs hey were more than happy to spend months on end together.

When he heard the front door open he practically leaped up from his spot on the couch, rounding the corner to the hallway immediately spotting y/n carrying multiple bags, still clad in a coat and woolly hat, her cheeks slightly red from the cold air even though it was nearly half way through March.

‘Hiya baby’ she smiles at him

‘Hi angel, missed you’ he said fumbling with the ends of his fingers.

‘I’ve only been gone about half an hour H’ she chuckled slightly, sensing he wasn’t feeling himself and hadn’t been all day.

‘Wanna come and help me put some shopping away’ she asked starting to take her hat and coat off, before getting a nod of the head in return his shy eyes making contact with hers. She ventured her way through to the kitchen, Harry trailing his way behind her like a lost puppy, starting to feel a bit calmer just due to her presence.

They then started to putting items in their allocated places in their kitchen, working like a dynamic duo somehow knowing wherever the other was at each given moment. Once the last item was put away Harry folds away the bags and puts them in a cupboard to be used another time. He then stands there in front of her, strands of his hair falling into his face in which y/n reaches out to push them back, he nuzzled into the slight touch, craving closeness with his girl. He makes grabby hands towards her in which she immediately complied and crashed into his warm chest wrapping her arms round his shoulders, fingers tangling into his hair. He sighed deeply in contentness but with a hint of worrysome into the crook of her neck ‘what’s going on in that head of yours baby’

‘I’m just worrying about tomorrow’ he speaks honestly ‘there’s just loads of thoughts of what could go wrong running through my head, and I can’t stop them’

‘Well I know that once you get out on that stage you are going to take it and rock the hell out of it, cause that’s just you and no matter how much you doubt yourself I know you are going to be amazing no matter what happens, and I think I can speak for pretty much everyone when I say that, you’re incredible baby no matter if you win a Grammy or not, I don’t really care about a shiny piece of metal I care about you’

‘But what if I mess up the words to the songs, or fall over on stage or something stupid like that’ he rushes out.

‘Your overwhelmed baby, and that’s very understandable because you haven’t really been doing a lot of this stuff cause of the pandemic, you just need to get in the swing of things again, but I’ll be there every step of the way, don’t need to be nervous H I’m here’ she cooed as he wrapped his arms around her tighter.

‘Thankyou angel, I love you, don’t know how much I needed to hear that’ he whispered kissing her neck.

‘I love you too, no need to thank me baby, that’s why I’m here, I’ll always be your moral support. If you want I can stand at the side of the stage with banners and everything,’ she says manoeuvring to grab a tea towel to demonstrate, she starts to swing her hips around, her body going in a circle with her hands in the air that was gripping the towel, whilst cheering ‘go H, go baby, go H, go baby.’ This made Harry laugh, a real laugh immediately lighting up the whole atmosphere. He swore he couldn’t live without this girl, who was dancing around the kitchen and would probably actually do what she was demonstrating on the side of the stage whilst he performed at the Grammys, because she cared about him that much.

‘There’s that smile, missed seeing that on your pretty face today’ she smiled right back at him, glad that he was happy again.

She made her way back to him, hugging him once again placing a kiss to the side of his jaw.

‘Wanna go upstairs and get all snuggy?’ She questioned.

‘Yeah, sounds perfect angel’

‘C’mon then’ grabbing his hand and leading them to their bedroom.

When they were half up the stairs y/n suddenly spins to face him again ‘you know, if your still feeling stressed I can help you even more, pretty sure I could eliminate all of it’

‘And how do you plan on doing that angel’

‘Oh my beautiful boy, the list goes on and on’ she says almost seductively.

They both knew where this was heading so they start to rush more up the stairs, excited to get to the bedroom, and as soon as they are and the door is shut behind them, Harry is pushed so his back was against the door before y/n starts kissing his lips hungrily, biting and sucking hickeys onto his neck making him groan ‘wanna be my baby boy tonight, just want to love you on you, make sure you’re totally stress free, how does that sound baby’

He whimpers at her words he could feel his length harden at her words ‘y-yes angel, want you to take control, wanna be your baby boy’

In turn y/n whimpers feeling her panties get wetter and wetter, she backed him up to the king-size bed, their lip connecting and reconnecting, the head in the room seeming to go up about 10 degrees, Harry loved it when y/n had her way with him, taking control of his pleasure, making him cum so hard he saw stars, he swore she was magical, the fact that he was worrying about every little thing about 20 minutes ago and now not having a care in the world, he could have been in the deepest, darkest whole and she still would be a been able to pull him out.

She turns both their bodies so that Harry’s would be the first to hit the bed, she was kissing him so hard it was making his knees buckle ‘do you want to take your shirt off and lay on the bed for me baby boy’ she says in which he quickly complies, lifting the fabric over his head, to see y/n doing the same taking her bra off at the same time, making him practically drool at the sight of her perky tits just begging to be played with.

He laid on the bed following her instructions, waiting for her to come over to him, and when she did y/n let out a small moan at the sight of his fucked out face and she had barely touched him, she loved it when he was like this, letting her take control when the roles were usually reversed, she just wanted to make him feel as good as he made her feel, which was pretty dam amazing.

She leaned over kissing his lips, her tongue diving into his mouth dancing with his own, she pulled away slowly ‘what do you want me to do to you baby’ she asked already knowing the answer ‘want me to play with you cock’

He whimpered and nods, his doe eyes begging her to do something about the tent in his sweats.

‘Use you words baby, wanna hear you say it’

‘P-please angel, want y-you to play with my cock’

‘Okay baby boy’ she reaches down to the tie on his sweats undoing the bow slowly, almost teasing him making him squirm and moan out ‘please touch me angel, m’starting to ache’ she works quicker getting the trousers off of his legs before throwing them somewhere in the room, then going back to pull his boxers down his long legs, his cock finally springing free from its confines and gently hitting his stomach.

Her eyes went wide at the sight of his cock, the tip an angry shade of red leaking precum, the thick veins more prominent, his balls looking deliciously filled with cum, just ready for a release. She lays between his spread legs, wasting no time in gripping his girthy shaft in her hand making Harry throw his head back and stifle out a load moan, she smiled knowing she was making his feel good with only one touch. ‘Who’s made you this hard baby?’

‘You angel, only you’ he moans as she starts bringing her hand up and down his cock, her thumb swirling over his sensitive tip making him groan every time. She then brings her head down, making eye contact with his green orbs as he lifted his up, her lips encased his tip before going down inch by inch until she was about half way, Harry let out a prolonged moan, loving the feeling of her mouth in him. Y/n brought her head up after a few more seconds gasping for air ‘taste so good baby, can’t wait to taste that cum though’ he whimpered his legs spreading even more to give her more room. When she reattached her lips to his shaft she starts bobbing her head up and down, taking him down her throat aswell, her hand tugging the rest ‘feels so good angel’ he says whilst gathering her hair in a makeshift ponytail.

At this point y/n panties were soaked, she managed to get a little stimulation by grazing her clit on the rough fabric of her jeans, making her hum in delight around his cock. She brings her other hand down to his balls, rolling them in her palm. She then comes off his cock with a pop, taking one of his balls into her mouth instead, changing between the two all whilst tugging his cock.

‘M’gonna cum if you keep doing that’ his legs starting to shake around her

‘Well that was my aim, baby’

‘wanna have you wrapped around me when I cum, please angel’ he whimpered

And with that y/n was already unbuttoning her jeans and pulling them down her legs, because how could she say no to him, her clit was starting to throb aswell, she smiled knowing that it wouldn’t take long for them both to cum, she straddles him bringing her lips to his once again, he grabbed hold of one of her tits massaging it before tweaking her nipple making her whimper into his mouth. She becomes desperate pulling away quickly before gripping his shaft and lining him up with her entrance, sinking down onto him with ease because of how wet she was. They both let out prolonged moans, loving the feeling of being wrapped around each other ‘pussys so fucking tight, s’like you were made for me’ he moans out, ‘think your cock was made for me too baby boy, stretches me out soo good’ placing both hands on his chest, she whimpers slowly lifting herself up before going back down, making a slow pace. They were moaning in unison the only sound in the room, and small whimpers of ‘baby’ and ‘angel.’ y/n brings her hand down to her clit starting to make small circles, knowing she wouldn’t need much to topple over she was amazed at how fast her orgasm was creeping up on her ‘m’gonna cum baby boy, you close’

‘Yes m’so close, your gonna make me cum so hard’ his legs starting to shake again, one of his tell- tale signs.

‘Cum with me baby’ y/n says not holding back anymore, with a few more thrusts and circles to her clit she was cumming, she whimpered the words ‘baby boy’ over and over, that’s when Harry toppled over he felt his cock twitch and with that he was releasing ribbon after ribbon of cum inside of her, he stopped breathing, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, toes curling, legs shaking practically screaming profanities. He felt like he was on cloud nine, he was gasping for air, a faint ringing in his ears.

Y/n leaned down to his chest kissing a few spots, now utterly exhausted ‘you okay baby’

‘Never cum so hard in my life angel, felt incredible’ he breathes out a lazy smile on his face.

She slowly lifted herself off of him, knowing he would be sensitive before laying down beside him ‘thankyou angel’ he whispers to her

‘What for?’ she asks

‘For making me forget all of my worries, for being my stress reliever, probably would have lost it by now if I didn’t have you’ he says sweetly. ‘I don’t know what I do without you either baby’ she says kissing his lips and then pulling his head to her chest, he nuzzled into her, his long arm draping the duvet over them, before gripping onto her waist.

‘Now go to sleep my beautiful three time Grammy nominated boyfriend, you’ve got a big day tomorrow’

#harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles fluff imagine #harry styles imagine #harrystylesisgolden #love harrystyles #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #fine line #harry styles is an angel #harry styles smut #harry styles smut imagine #stress reliever #hazza styles #harold #sub!harry

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side-shawty · 3 years

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Burn XIII (Stark!Reader)

XIII: More

Fandom: Marvel (MCU)

Type: series

Prompt/Summary: Love is everything.

Pairing(s): Peter Parker x Stark!reader, Tony Stark x daughter!reader

Requested? YES

I’ve been inactive for soooooo long that I understand if no one cares about it anymore BUT after a lot of writers block and some mental fragility I am BACK! And i will f i n i s h this series. Much love to you all <3

-Duckie

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

•

The ceiling was white.

Just like it was when you always woke up, white and cold with buzzing fluorescents. These were different though, they were dim not at all blinding.

Your guard was up immediately when you heard the beeping of machines nearby. You looked around and saw yourself hooked up to several monitors. An increasingly rapid beeping made it clear that one of them was a heart monitor.

The walls around you were all white. The outline of a door was visible on the left wall and you quickly began to remove all the wires and tubes from yourself frantically.

You had to leave. They couldn’t keep you here any longer. The just ... couldn’t.

When you finally freed yourself from the machinery you swung your legs over the side of the bed and saw your body covered in bandages big and small and fading bruises covered the visible skin.

You reached up and tentatively felt the bandage around your neck. You were praying that you had done enough damage that they couldn’t put that horrible device in again.

You shifted your weight so that you could hop off the bed, vaguely registering how soft it seemed.

“I wouldn’t do that,” spoke a voice overhead.

You almost wept, “FRIDAY?” You asked sitting back on the bed.

“Welcome home Miss Y/N,” she spoke reassuringly.

Suddenly heavy with relief you settled your elbows onto your knees and held your face in your hands.

“Oh my god. It was real,” you whispered to yourself, believing your escape had only been a dream.

You were stunned into silence and could hardly breathe properly.

“Would you like me to call Mr. Stark?” FRIDAY prompted.

“Please,” you responded, unable to say much more as tears began to wet your cheeks and bandaged palms.

It felt like only a few seconds until the white door slid open and your father, mother, and sister all sprinted in and right towards you.

You chanced getting off the bed to stand only to realize that your legs were extremely weak. If it had not been for your father scooping you into his arms, you would have fallen face-first onto the ground.

Pepper and Morgan were quick to also wrap their arms around you and you could only sob in the arms of your family as they began to cry along with you.

After what felt like forever you finally released each other. Your mother forced you to lie back down and they all sat with you. Tony to the left, Pepper on the right, and Morgan in your lap, her back against your chest clutching her Otto the octopus.

You waved your mother off when she attempted to tell Morgan that sitting on you could hurt. You missed having your little sister in your arms like this, besides she was beginning to nod off.

You finished the glass of water your Dad had given you and he took it, putting it on the white bedside table.

“What happened? How long was I…” You trailed off.

All of their expressions seemed to darken at the questions.

“After the gala,” Tony began, “that android that took you just vanished into thin air. We all searched for you but there was nothing. Your tracker all but died and you were in there for…” he paused like the next words would inflict physical pain, “for three more than weeks. And you’ve been unconscious for nine days.”

You didn’t speak as you processed the information. All you could do was squeeze a sleeping Morgan and Otto closer to your chest. You realized you were squeezing too hard when the girl shifted uncomfortably and forced yourself to relax as she slept.

It was all coming back to you in pieces, the experiments, that room, and—

“Where’s Harley?” You asked abruptly and Pepper gave you your answer.

“He’s safe. He was only unconscious for about a day and a half when you got back. He’s been recovering from malnutrition and minor injuries but he’ll be alright.”

You let out a relieved sigh at that.

“What about everyone else?”

“See I told you she’d be like this,” Tony said a bit exasperated to Pepper.

“I know, this one might be on me.”

“Oh, it’s definitely on you.”

You rolled your eyes, but the action strained them a bit, “What are you talking about?”

“You always ask about everyone else when you’re the one who needs the attention right now,” Tony said, and reached for your hand to hold it in his own, “It’s okay to be a little selfish at times like this.”

You nodded, knowing he would take no other response.

“But to answer your question everyone else is completely fine, we even got some information from that base. Some of which we will seriously talk about later,” Tony told you sternly.

You nodded again before recollecting something else, “What about Peter? He got shot,” you paused, “because of me.”

“We all know that boy would take a million bullets if it meant saving you,” Pepper said jokingly and you cracked the smallest of smiles.

“I’d do the same for him,” you said looking down at Otto and Morgan, playing with a loose multicolored thread.

“We know and we also know he’s anxious to see you. Everyone is actually but we told him he could be next,” Tony said.

“He’s here?” You asked.

“He hasn’t left.”

“Wait where is here?”

“The compound, had your white room revamped into a temporary recovery space,” Tony said and began gathering Morgan into his arms.

You were about to speak again when he added, “And to answer your next question it’s about 1 AM”

You smiled, “Thanks, Dad.”

“Of course.”

“We have to get this one to bed and I know Peter is probably anxiously waiting outside right now,” Pepper said beginning to stand, she walked up to you and placed a loving kiss on your forehead. Tony followed suit.

“We love you Firefly,” She told you.

“So much,” your father added and you could feel the tears attempting to well again.

“I love you guys too, thank you so much for not giving up on me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Tony said and the three of them bid you goodnight before exiting.

Before the door could even close Peter was in the room but he hesitated at the door. Almost jumping as it shut behind him.

He looked like a kicked puppy with messy hair and in sweatpants and a t-shirt with a terrible science pun. You held your arms out to him.

“Peter,” you spoke.

That was all it took for him to be at you in an instant and as soon as you were in the warmth of his embrace the tears you were holding back came rolling down your cheeks at full force. It wasn’t long before Peter was crying with you.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N/N,” Peter sobbed into your shoulder.

You shushed him lovingly, “It’s okay Pete, I’m okay.”

He pulled away from your shoulder as he sat as close as possible to you, holding your hands gingerly and kissing them.

“I should have protected you.”

You shook your head as you started into his red-rimmed eyes.

“No, this is not your fault. This is no one’s fault, okay?” You said and he nodded, you couldn’t be sure if he believed you or not.

“Oh god, I was so scared I would lose you, all that time. We never stopped looking, we did everything —“

“I know Pete, and I love you all for it,” You took your hands out of his in favor of holding his face.

“I just hate seeing you like this,” he said and turned his head to place a quick kiss onto your palm.

“These little cuts and bruises? I would still kick your ass on the training mat,” you told him and his light laughter ignited your own.

“I missed you so much,” he said.

“I missed you too, every day. You were one of the reasons I fought, I could never just leave you.”

There was a moment of comfortable silence before Peter spoke up again.

“I love you,” he said, looking deep into your dark eyes.

The lump in your throat made it impossible for you to respond so you did the next best thing. You took the hands on his face and moved them so your arms wrapped around his neck. You brought him to you slowly.

One of his hands cupped your cheek while the other rested on the small of your back.

The feeling of his lips finally connecting with your own was ethereal. You never thought you’d feel this again. So you let yourself get lost in it.

Something that started out sweet and innocent quickly became dangerously erotic, with dancing tongues and soon to be bruised lips. As he pulled you impossibly close to his chest you tangled your fingers into his hair.

You were sitting on his lap before you knew it, he was holding onto you as if you’d disappear if he let go for even a second. When you tugged his hair slightly he all but moaned into your mouth.

Pulling back you were both breathing heavy and you rested your foreheads against each other, smiling.

“So I guess it’s safe to say you love me back,” he teased.

“Without a doubt in my mind,” you said pulling him back in for another soft kiss.

•

NEXT CHAPTER

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justasimptm · 3 years

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The Bride C17

The voice rings clear and stern, tone filled with rage and disbelief. Heisenberg stands a few feet away, leaning on his hammer, watching Moreau hesitant in front of me. It’s kind of funny to me, watching him panic, it’s like he’s hitting all the stages of grief at the same time. His mouth flaps like a fish, which is even funnier given his ugly other form, but to give him credit, he doesn’t back away. Heisenberg barely twitches a finger, but the knife he was holding flies from his hand, banging loudly on the support beam behind us. I feel both relieved and tense still as he steps closer, knowing I’m not alone but unsure how he’s going to deal with this situation.

“Mother wanted me to do another test! I’m making progress!” Moreau whimpers, matching his steps moving backwards, only stopping when he bumps into his little table and trips, falling to the ground with a nauseating wet slap. Heisenberg doesn’t even look at me, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the dolt that’s trying to skitter away from him. “You should-you should go! Let me finish my work!” Heisenberg scoffs at the effort, twisting his fingers slightly to pull the needle from my arm, letting it ping to the ground before sliding the bucket that had started collecting my blood over to him. It sloshes slightly, and I realise he had already started draining me before I woke up.

“I think, you have plenty. And I also think if you ever try something like this again, I will tell Mother Miranda about your betrayal, because that’s what this is, and she’ll cast you out for it. Let her out of your filth.” He hisses, leaving no room for argument or discussion. Within seconds I feel the sludge holding me up release, which is both a relief and a shock, because without it I feel a million pounds heavier and I tumble forward into Heisenberg, who with all his grace, manages to catch me before I hit the ground.

Without so much as letting the other creature breathe a syllable in reply, Heisenberg turns, and promptly stalks from the mines, resurfacing through the hut before walking us slightly downstream. He sets me down carefully on one of the bigger rocks, letting me adjust myself before fully releasing me and sitting down next to me. Part of me wonders how he found me, but part of me doesn’t want to ask, wanting instead to break down slightly and thank him for saving us again, even after our last encounter had been so cold. I scramble for the words to say to break our silence, even a simple thank you not feeling good enough. My buffering seems to register with him, so he fortunately takes the initiative and speaks first so I don’t have to.

“Do you need blood? He got a lot before I got there.” He asks, eyeing me up and down before looking out at the running water. The concern in his voice shocks me for a split second before I reply, humming thoughtfully as I focus on my body to see if I can get it to wake up. He must’ve really taken a good portion of what I had running through me because even now, out of his slime and out in the light, my body feels like it could drop into a coma at any second.

“I will. Before I go home if I can manage it. Thank you for coming, Lord-” I start, watching him from the corner of my eyes so I can look without staring directly. Before I can finish my miniature praise he cuts me off with the waive of his hand.

“I wasn’t gonna let that Fish Chum kill you. And I’m pretty sure I told you to call me Karl.” He states, turning to face me head on, but keeping his attention low as he shrugs off his jacket and rolls up the sleeve of his shirt. My brows furrow at his movement and I have to force myself away from staring at his now exposed arm and flexing biceps as he moves them. “I know I’m probably not preferred dinner, but I don’t think I’ll be able to get anyone fresher.” He mutters and it suddenly strikes me what he’s planning. Before I could protest, both at the intimacy of it and the idea of drinking from him and hurting him, he pulled a thin knife from his belt and made a small cut across his arm. Not so deep as to cause much damage, but enough to make his blood sing in the air. “Don’t even think about saying no. Can’t have you dying’ on me yet, Doll. I still gotta make you like me.”

His words barely register on my mind as I reach for him on instinct, he pulls me closer to his side, running his fingers through my pinned hair and letting it fall fully loose from it’s half destroyed bun. It’s interesting as I latch on, not biting really, more like suckling, the conscious part of my brain trying not to cause too much harm. What’s even more interesting is that instead of tensing, like most would under the fang of what could arguably be considered a vampire despite our real creation, he relaxes into me. Sighing as my lips close on his skin and I apply the first light pressure of sucking, not flinching as my tongue swipes over the cut he made, tasting him for the first time.

He tastes like the best treats you could imagine. Like a fresh strawberry, dipped in rich dark chocolate, both sweet and bitter, but a perfect combination of both. He tastes like nothing I’ve had before, something I can only imagine could be compared to having your favorite meal at the end of a long week. My eyelids flutter close at the first drop that I pull into my mouth. Trying so hard not to be greedy, but wanting so desperately to bite and drink until I can’t. I think I hear myself whimper slightly, but I’m quickly soothed by his gentle shushing as he runs his fingers through my hair, scraping slightly along my scalp. The paired sensations of his coarse fingers on my head, his calm voice telling me it’s okay and to take what I need is almost too much to handle.

It makes me not want to stop, even though I know I need to. My body feels alive, humming with strength and more energy than I’ve had in years, and I fight every single nerve I have as I pull my stained lips away from his arm. When he asks me if I’ve had enough I almost laugh. No, I want to say, I need more, I need everything, but I say yes, because I am sated, belly full and happy, warmth flowing back to my fingers and my cheeks. His face is tinged red, just so slightly, a thin layer of sweat along his forehead, and for a split second I’m terrified I took too much. But as smoothly as he had rolled it up, he tugs his sleeve back down, nodding to himself. We sit in silence for another minute, letting both of our breathings steady before trying to return to conversation.

At first our conversation is light, he asks how I ended up in the mines, I ask how he knew I was there. Both of us give half truths, evading what we think will embarrass ourselves, but walking on eggshells grows tiresome fast.

“Are you scared of your mother?” He asks out of the blue, making me choke slightly on the breath I was taking. I can’t stop myself from looking around at who might have heard him, but we’re alone, just as we were when we came down.

“My mother is...a very complicated woman.” I start, treading carefully, but he scoffs at my statement, making me smile lightly. “Maybe a bit more than complicated. She’s always wanted what she thought was best for me. For her, really.” The sadness in my voice sobers him quickly. As I find the next words he gently pulls his glasses off, putting them to the side on his jacket. I started explaining that we were both sick, her and I, but she wanted to be cured, leading into her magical find, the thing that would keep her alive for ages. He knows what I mean without having to say it. “She came home that night different. Physically, mentally. She looked like my mother but she didn’t exactly act like her. I was terrified, if I’m going to be honest. She changed me though, even though I…” I can’t finish that sentence, but I don’t have to, judging by the look on his face he already understands. “It took me a while to accept this, and when I finally did she really wasn’t my mother anymore. She was twisted up, and if I’m going to be honest, yes. I am afraid of her. I think everyone should be, really. She has no remorse for anything she does, wanting only for us all to love her. Me, my sisters, Miranda. That’s the only thing that drives her anymore.” What he asks next sends a spear of shock through my gut.

“So why haven’t you left?”

Why haven’t I left? God, that’s a very good question. I can go outside, I can fend for myself quite easily. So why not? The answer is much harder than anything else I could say.

“Because if I leave, I die.” His mouth drops at the bluntness of my response, and I have to fight to keep my voice steady. “My pendant is burned into my chest. If I try to leave, my mother can break the charm on it that keeps the silver poisoning from spreading, and kill me. I stay with her because I’m sick of dying. I’m sick of living. I’m sick of not having a choice on which I do. So I choose to stay, because it’s the only choice I have.” He doesn’t have a follow up question, and the silence that was once comfortable now feels suffocating. “Thank you for helping me, Karl. I need to get back now. I’ll see you soon, I’m sure.”

Without so much as another beat of my heart I swarm, quickly finishing the ascent back up to my home, not reforming until I’m firmly inside the doors.

Heisenberg's POV

When I found her, mounted to the wall like some goddamn experiment, it felt like my entire world stopped moving. She was alive, but the white sheen on her face told me that wouldn’t be the case for very long. I know for a fact that this oaf didn’t ask Miranda if he could do this, so that was my opening, and thank god it worked. I was able to get her out of there before something bad really happened. Out in the sunlight she seems more calm, but she’s still too pale. It strikes me that she needs blood, to replace what he took. I start to scramble mentally, not sure where to find her something to eat, not wanting to leave her to do it.

The thought breezes through my head in a split second. If she needs blood, I think, she can drink mine. Then I think about the parasite infecting my body and I grimace, I doubt she’ll really want that. Still, however, I offer, and a warm tingle goes up my back when she agrees. When she starts mouthing at the cut I made on my arm I fight every fiber of my being to stop myself from shivering. The feeling of her tongue swiping over it, the deep but gentle sucking and the blissed out look on her face is almost too much for me. Almost too much but somehow not nearly enough.

The moment is over almost as soon as it starts. She releases my arm from her hands and pulls back, her breath still ghosting over my skin. I want to tell her she can keep going, just to feel it again, to see her like that, but I know she stopped for a reason so I don’t push it. After steadying our breathing and calming down, I decided to break the silence and try talking to her.

Our conversation is airy, but I can’t stop myself from asking the question I’ve been dying to know the answer to for ages, ‘are you scared of your mother’. When she says yes my blood boils. She tells me how her mother came back fucked up and forced the change onto her. She didn’t want this life either. She tries to keep her voice stable but I can still hear the hints of it shaking. The next question falls from my mouth before I can stop it.

“Why haven’t you left?” I propose. This seems to stump her for a minute, but she pulls her shoulders back and her face droops in resignation. I want to tell her she doesn’t have to answer, but she does before I get a chance.

“Because if I leave, I die.” She tells me, and I feel like I’ve been punched in the throat. She explains how the pendant she has is burned into her body, which explains why I never see it move, and that if she leaves her mother will take the charm off of it and let her die. It’s silver, the same material used to stab her those weeks ago. If I look close enough I can see small back veins around where the pendant sits, evidence that it would kill her. Before I can say anything else she’s gone, whisked back to her tower, far away from me. When she’s gone it feels less warm in the sun, everything somehow dimmer. I’m going to find a way to save her, I think to myself, and nobody will ever hurt her again.

@foggyturtleknightangel @beingviolentlyhappy @inesalexandra1995 @loveboldlywingedangel130

#karl heisenberg #Karl Heisenberg x reader #re8 karl heisenberg #lady dimitrescu #resident evil 8 village #resident evil #resident evil village #resident evil 8

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alpacaparkaseok · 3 years

Text

The Other Side

Part Two

Genre: KSJ Soulmate au

Warnings: none, it’s pure fluff with some emotional jazz I guess

Word Count: 8.8k

Yuri jams her body between me and the door, staring me down as I rattle the handle.

“You locked it!” I shout, seeing red. The door doesn’t budge as I continue to try to break out, the sounds of people shouting outside only spurring me on.

My friend gives me a stern look before nodding. “The door is locked, yes. It will stay like that until you get your heart rate under control. And you want to know how-”

“Yeah, whatever. Get it set up.”

I wave her off, Yuri laughing as I’ve come back to my senses a bit. She rummages through her bag before pulling out a handheld heart monitor. While she pulls a chair over I sink down to my knees, sitting against the door for support.

The second I lean against it, the door jolts. It would appear that Jin has finally arrived.

Yuri has a wide-eyed gaze as she watches the door shake. Jin’s voice rings out loud and clear as he comes to the realization that the door is indeed locked.

“Key. Now.”

Several voices answer him, but he pays them no heed.

“Who locked it.”

His voice is low and monotone, barely sheathing the sharpness that’s threatening to break free and cut down anyone in his path. Just the mere sound of it is enough to make my heart jump again, and I close my eyes against the stars in my vision.

Yuri notices and kneels before me, looping the heart monitor around my finger before lightly tapping my shoulder.

“The senior assistant is on his way, he’ll get Jin under control. For now, do you think you could tell him to calm down and put the heart monitor on?”

I know what she’s saying, but it still takes me a moment to wrap my mind around her words. Once I do, I take a deep breath and give her a shaky nod.

“Sure.”

Rising from the ground, I pause and beg the rational part of my brain to make an appearance. A wry smile cuts across my face.

“This is probably the worst first day ever.”

Yuri shrugs. “Or the best.”

Shaking my head, I knock lightly on the door. I have to do it a couple of times before it’s quiet enough out there for Jin to hear me.

When it’s quiet but nobody responds, I attempt to speak.

“Seokjin?” I wince at how informal I sound, but I’ll just have to dwell on the logistics of it all later on.

Footsteps draw nearer until they’re just before the door. “H-Haneul? Are you ok?”

My cheeks burn bright red as I realize that he remembered my name. “I’m fine, but I need you to do me a favor.”

“Anything,” he responds without a moment’s hesitation. “What do you need?”

Finding encouragement in Yuri’s proud smile, I close my eyes and lean my head against the door. “There should be another heart rate monitor in my bag; I left it in the other room. You need to put it on.”

“You...want me to leave and grab it?” There’s a note of panic in his voice which matches the hitch in my breathing as I think about Jin leaving.

“No! No, don’t leave.” I take a deep breath, fighting to remain in control of my senses. “Just have someone grab the bag and bring it back. Yuri said that the senior assistant will be up shortly - he’ll know what to do from there.”

I’m sure that there’s a crowd of people outside the door, because I hear several feet hurrying away. Despite hearing Jin’s obvious aversion to leaving, I still start to panic as I imagine him leaving.

What if he doesn’t come back? I mean, Bighit probably won’t want me for the job anymore, seeing that I’ve complicated everything. Maybe Jin’s disgusted with me and will just leave before word can get out that his soulmate is a soulmate assistant. My status alone would result in a PR disaster as is-

“Haneul?”

I didn’t even realize how hard I was pushing up against the door until I hear Jin’s voice on the other side. Head jolting up, I gulp down air to fill my empty lungs.

“Yes?”

Now that Jin has calmed down a bit, he sounds a bit timid. “They brought your bag back. Is it ok if I open it?”

“Oh.” The ghost of a smile flickers across my face. “Yeah, that’s fine. The monitor should be in the right outermost pocket.”

I listen intently as my bag is unzipped and Jin begins trying to work the heart monitor. A few people help him with it, while someone else says something about grabbing a chair. About a minute of silence passes before Jungkook’s timid voice rings out.

“Um...Miss Choi?”

“Yeah?”

“What is your heart rate at right now?”

Yuri holds the actual heart monitor, and she quickly consults it before answering. “Haneul’s is currently at 162, it appears to be dropping at a consistent rate. What’s Jin’s?”

Before Jungkook can answer, somebody else arrives. There are low voices consulting outside the door; one of them I recognize as Sejin. I’m about to start pounding on the door and demanding answers when the newcomer speaks up.

“Yuri, are you in there?”

Yuri jumps up. “I am. Is everything ok out there?” When I give her a questioning look, she mouths ‘senior assistant’ to me. I let out a long sigh, feeling a little relieved to know that someone legitimely qualified is out there with Jin.

“Jin is doing fine, however his heart rate is still abnormally high. Jungkook told me Miss Choi is coming down from 162. Is that still the case?”

“She’s down to 158 now, still dropping as it should.”

There’s a long pause before he speaks again. “It would appear that Seokjin here is having a harder time getting his heart rate under control. He’s stuck.”

If my heart wasn’t still beating so fast it would have probably spiked from the panic that sets in. Resting my hand on the doorknob as though it will magically unlock at any given second, I ask what I know I must.

“May I know what his heart rate is, sir?”

“You’re the soulmate?” He sounds a bit uncertain, but Yuri steps in before I decide to break down the door and strangle him.

“She is, but she’s also a highly trained central assistant. Haneul is in control of herself, there’s no need to worry.”

Yuri sounds firm enough that it leaves no room for argument. I make a mental note to buy her dinner or something after all of this blows over.

“Alright,” he sighs. “Seokjin is maintaining a heart rate of 198.”

I gasp before putting my hand over my mouth. “198?” I hiss, whirling to look at Yuri. She has a cool and calm expression on like a mask, but I can see right through her. I would be doing the same thing if I were her; but I’m not.

This is the moment I’ve been waiting for my entire life; it’s the moment I was just dreaming about last night! Yet I should have known that it wouldn’t be so easy. Not only is my soulmate one of the most recognizable idols in the world, he’s also experiencing what is commonly referred to as “stationary shock”.

In other words, Jin has something going on in his head or heart that has him staying in the initial wave of shock that usually only lasts the first 60 seconds.

Yuri is asking questions, but it sounds like she’s speaking underwater. While she’s doing her best to understand the situation, I ease the heart monitor from her hands and stare down at the numbers there.

Instead of continuing to decrease, my numbers remain the same as well. This is what I was expecting; Jin’s predicament directly affects my own. How can I relax when I know that he’s on the other side of that door in a state of shock, unable to calm down?

My feet carry me away from the door, wandering over to a nearby window. Standing before it, I notice with a start that it’s beginning to snow.

The clouds, heavy with water, have decided to gently let go of their burden.

Perhaps I’ve lost just enough sanity to start pondering the lives of nimbus clouds, because suddenly my mind is rushing with the possibilities of the clouds before me.

Just like that, my mind begins to race with all the information I’ve learned over the years about stationary shock. Usually the people who experience it are the same ones that have a history of anxiety when it comes to the topic of soulmates.

There’s a famous example of a couple from the 1960’s that had an encounter similar to anybody else’s; except for the fact that the woman's heart rate refused to come down. What usually takes fifteen minutes ended up going over the three hour mark.

Little things brought her heart rate down: talking to her friends, drinking water, and voicing her thoughts. However, what ended up being her saving grace was her soulmate who took matters into his own hands and talked her down. From their conversation soulmate specialists were able to deduce that she had major anxiety in regard to soulmates due to personal issues. It was only as she was able to open up to her actual soulmate that her heart rate was able to come back down and away from physical harm.

As I watch the snowflakes drift through the sky, I come to the root of it all.

“I have to make him snow,” I mumble. Turning around to where Yuri remains talking through the door, I wave to get her attention.

It takes her a moment, she’s clearly focusing hard on the issue at hand. The hint of a smile cracks her icy expression before she walks over to me.

“What’s up?”

“I think I have to make him snow.”

Yuri tilts her head to one side, looking at me quizzically. “Snow? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He’s going through stationary shock, isn’t he?” Once she nods, I continue on in my plea. “Don’t you think this could be like that couple, you know, from the 60’s? We need to get him to snow...you know, open up. Let everything go.”

She hesitates, entertaining the idea for a moment. “First we need to go through the normal procedures; chances are the normal steps will bring him down a bit.” Yuri stops me before I can jump into action. “Everyone is bringing up different items for him to go through, Mr. Chung is having him drink some water and stretch right now. Let’s just see how that goes first, alright?”

I look at her incredulously. “Who on earth is Mr. Chung?!”

Yuri laughs, “The senior soulmate assistant, loser. So let’s just let him do his job before we try to pry the nasty truth from your soulmate, ok?”

Blushing madly at the casual way Yuri mentions my soulmate, I give her a reluctant nod. “Fine. But if he’s not better in ten minutes, everybody leaves and I get to do it my way.”

“Let’s say twenty.”

Glaring, I clench my jaw. “Fifteen.”

Yuri sighs before walking back over to the door. “I’ll see what I can do.”

☆

Focusing on the five senses is the first thing all soulmate assistants are taught to do when faced with stationary shock. It helps the person to calm down when they can focus on one thing at a time.

First: Sight.

“Ok Seokjin, my grandchildren have a horrible habit of making fun of how many crooked teeth I have,” Mr. Chung starts. He sounds ultra calm and soothing, I find myself sitting before the door again and being lulled into a calming state just by the sound of his voice. “I’m going to give you my best smile, please pay attention and tell me if my grandchildren are right.”

A few seconds pass before Jin says anything. “You have a lovely smile.”

“Thank you very much, that means a lot coming from an idol such as yourself. Shall we move on to the next step?”

Second: Sound.

“Would you like to listen to some music? Perhaps there’s a piece that helps you to think clearly-”

“No.” Jin’s voice is solid as he rejects the idea. “No music, please.”

Ok, scratch that.

Mr. Chung goes through the other senses, bringing up some tea for Jin to drink and taste, wafting smellings salts under his nose, even bringing up an RJ for him to hold and touch. We’re coming up on fifteen minutes when I give Yuri a knowing look.

“Yuri, Mr. Chung...this is crossing into dangerous territory,” I squeak out, trying to breathe properly. “I think it might be best to give Jin some space for a little while.”

Yuri stares at the door, waiting for Mr. Chung to speak. Holding my breath, I drop my head in my hands and stare down at the floor even as tears prick at my eyes.

This must be my punishment for not being patient enough to just wait for my soulmate.

Right now, sitting so close and yet being undeniably separate, I feel that this is the consequence for not trusting fate enough to just trust its timing.

Now that I’ve fought and clawed my way to the top, I’ve put my soulmate in danger. My heart begins to tear itself apart as I realize that while I’ve been ready for years to meet him, my soulmate was not.

Jin wasn’t ready, and I’ve taken that away from him.

Hot tears are threatening to spill out onto my cheeks, but I brush them away before they get the chance. This isn’t about me, this isn’t the time for self-pity. This is about making sure Jin comes out of this alright.

“Han?” Yuri taps my shoulder, handing me something. I look down to see it’s a paging device. “We’re going, but if you need us, press this button. We’ll be just down the hall.”

I gape up at her, surprised that my request was granted. “You’re actually leaving?” Suddenly my stomach suddenly sinks as I realize that I didn’t really think past this point. “What am I supposed to do?” I whisper.

Yuri fixes my hair, giving me a glowing smile. “There’s a reason he’s your soulmate, Han. Just do what feels right.”

If I wasn’t nearly sobbing before, I definitely am now. Trying my best to swallow my emotions, I nod at her. Yuri walks over to the door, knocking on it.

“We’re ready on this side.”

There’s a few footsteps outside the door and I imagine they’re moving Jin away. For good measure I turn away from the door. The last thing we need is face-to-face contact jolting our heart rate again. I’m not sure how much more I can take of this; let alone Jin.

The sound of the door unlocking reverberates through my entire system, and I cling to the chair I’m sitting on for dear life.

“Quickly, quickly,” Mr. Chung instructs. A moment later, the door shuts and locks again. I can hardly breathe as I hear them moving away, a muffled conversation taking place between Mr. Chung and Jin.

Then all is silent.

Suddenly alone in the room I gaze down at my monitor, watching at my heart rate jumps around a bit before settling back down at 142.

Still too high.

According to Mr. Chung, Jin’s heart rate came down a little bit during the 5 senses procedures, however it was still dangerously high. If everything has stayed the same he should be hovering around 160.

My ears strain to hear if Jin has returned to the door, but I hear nothing. As the seconds tick by I become more and more concerned, remembering my thoughts from earlier.

Jin clearly was not ready to find his soulmate. As far as I know, he had some major issues to work through before we met.

How am I supposed to feel right now?

How am I supposed to react when I’ve finally met the person I’ve been searching for my entire life, only to find that they weren’t ready to receive me?

The question that I’ve buried deep down for the entirety of my life comes bubbling back up to the surface in the face of this new dilemma.

Am I somehow too much?

As I get up out of my chair and sit with my back to the door, I stare out the window at the growing winter storm.

How many times have I wished to let myself go like that? No more small flurries that have people stopping to enjoy before scurrying on; I want to let go of everything I’ve learned and held inside until it’s a blizzard that has cars stopping and school cancelled because to ignore the blizzard is to ignore me.

My vision is blurry as I look down at my hands, almost expecting to see snowflakes falling from them.

Fate is a funny thing. It decided to pair me; a reserved girl with an endless internal blizzard raging and Jin. Jin, the man that flaunts himself with no reserve and infinite confidence.

I wonder if Jin has ever looked inside himself and felt like he was too much. The thought is a comforting one.

A slight push against the door notifies me to the presence of someone else sitting on the other side. Back to back, with only a slab of wood between us, my soulmate and I huff out a sigh at the same time.

It takes me by surprise, and it clearly does for him too. Jin chuckles, the sound sending a thrill through me despite my depressing thoughts. I chew on the inside of my lip, thinking of what to say.

The voice of my friend who found her soulmate years ago comes to my mind, taking me off guard. “And you think he isn’t ready to be found? Nobody ever is. But I can guarantee that the two of you are both ready to be loved.”

Like a lightbulb turning on over my head, I realize that I’ve been worrying over the wrong thing. Sure, maybe Jin wasn’t ready to be found yet. But if I’ve met him doesn't that mean that I should love him regardless?

“Hey Seokjin.”

Leaning my head back and closing my eyes, I can almost hear Jin’s deep breaths. No doubt he’s still trying to breathe deeply so he can get his heart under control.

“Hey Haneul.”

Those two words are enough to have me floating off the ground, a silly grin spreading across my features.

“Do you still have RJ over there?”

“Oh yeah, he’s right here.”

“Is he doing alright?”

Jin chuckles. “He said he’s fine. How are you?”

“I’m ok, I think.” My eyes drift open again and stray back to the window. “Did you know that it’s snowing right now?”

“Really?” Jin sounds strangely familiar, like we do this all the time. “Is it just a little?”

I shake my head even though he can’t see me. “No, it started slow but now it’s really coming down.”

“Good.” I would never be able to guess that Jin is still going through a bout of tachycardia judging from his even tone of voice. “I’d rather it be a blizzard than anything.”

“Me too!” I exclaim. “Much more satisfying.”

“Mm.”

It’s silent again, but this time I don’t feel like the walls are caving in on me. A quick glance at my monitor has me smiling.

I’m down to 135. Once we reach 80 we can open the door.

My heart rate spikes again at the thought of opening the door, and I take a deep breath to calm down.

“Would you describe it to me?” Jin’s voice is quiet, but I hear it clearly in the silence of the room.

“The snowstorm?”

“Yes.” He’s quiet for another moment before adding, “Please.”

Squinting, I stare out the window. “The snow is white.”

The door rumbles as Jin laughs. “We both know that’s not what I meant.”

Laughing to myself, I try to come up with something poetic for my soulmate. “Like I said earlier, it started off slowly. I could see that each snowflake was individual as they came down. Now, they’re in clusters, all big and fluffy. The kind that people try to catch on their tongues, you know?”

“Ooh, right.”

I pause, trying to figure out what else to say. “It makes it look not so cold. Earlier it looked kind of miserable and freezing, but now with all the snow coming down it just makes me want to walk around outside. It’ll be warmer, and quiet.”

Jin hums in acknowledgement. “I like it when it’s quiet after it snows.”

“Me too.”

“That’s probably why we’re…” Jin trails off, and I understand why he doesn’t say it. Just to even think about being soulmates with him has my heart clenching.

“Yeah, probably.” I supply.

“So how’s your first day at your new job going?”

I croak out a laugh, rolling my eyes. “Do you want the honest answer or the lie?”

“Both, please.”

How is he so polite even in teasing? The media has always portrayed him as a free spirit that doesn’t care much about what others think, and yet he’s said please more times in the past twenty minutes than I’ve heard all week.

“It’s great, thanks for asking.”

It’s quiet before Jin speaks up again. “Which one was that?”

I shrug, my shoulders rubbing up against the door. “Probably both, I haven’t decided yet.”

Jin’s laugh sounds loud and clear, but I can’t help but wonder what it would sound like if there wasn’t a door between the two of us right now.

The minutes pass as we continue to chat, each minute bringing my heart rate down a bit more. Once I reach 100, I let out a shout of triumph.

“What happened?” Jin asks.

“I hit 100! What are you at?”

It’s quiet for a long time before Jin responds. “Do you want the honest answer or the lie?”

My stomach drops but I try to keep my tone light. “Honesty is always the best policy.”

“It says 154.”

My eyes grow wide as I sit straight up, wincing as my tailbone feels sore from sitting on the hard floor for so long.

Jin hasn’t hardly dropped at all and it’s been...18 minutes since we were left alone.

“You’re not saying anything.”

I scramble to come up with something to say, but I don’t want to push him too hard. How am I supposed to get someone to open up to me that I only met thirty minutes ago?

Honesty is the best policy, I guess. “I just thought we were getting along well, that’s all.”

I wish I knew Jin well enough to picture what expression he’s wearing right now, but all I can imagine are his wide eyes as he reached out to me when we first saw each other.

“No, we are,” Jin reassures me, guilt evident in his voice.

Turning around to sit cross-legged before the door, I stare it down like I can see through it to Jin. “So...what are you still so freaked out about?”

Jin doesn’t answer, but I hear him shuffling about and suddenly a card slips under the door. I grab it, flipping it over.

“We’re going to have to open this door eventually, aren’t we?” Jin asks as I study the photocard he just pushed under the door.

“What does Jimin’s photocard have to do with that?”

In response another card slips under the door, followed by another and another until I have six photo cards spread out before me. I’m about to ask where his own photo is until it comes flying under the door, Jin’s serious face looking up at me from where he sits in the picture.

Adding it to the collection before me, I furrow my brows, still not understanding what he’s trying to say.

“I’m assuming you’ve heard of me, right?” Before I can answer, Jin continues speaking. There’s an edge to his voice now as his anxiety makes an appearance. “You’ve probably seen photos just like these for years now. People say that we look beautiful, like some fallen gods or something. Untouchable, yet so many can’t seem to keep away.”

Biting down on the questions I have brimming in my mind, I allow Jin to continue without interrupting.

“This is what people are trained to see. Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice to be loved. But they just don’t get it. If they could see past all of this - the photos, the extravagant clothes and performances, even the funny shows! If they could see this. Right now, me cowering on one side of a door, hiding from my s...soulmate, they wouldn’t want anything to do with me.”

“That’s not true.”

“You have to say that! You’re my soulmate!” Jin’s voice rises in desperation, making me wince. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.”

“It’s ok,” I breathe out. “Go on.”

Jin pauses before speaking again. “I’m not like everyone else. I wasn’t meant for this life. I’m not saying that I’m not grateful for every second of it; I am. It’s brought me more joy than I ever thought possible, but have you ever stared into the faces of thousands of people who love you and do everything for you, and just knew, deep down, that you don’t deserve it?” Jin is nearly panting as he asks the question again. “Have you, Haneul? Have you ever had millions of people love you but it leaves you wide awake every night staring at the ceiling because no matter how you do the math, there is no way you can ever make it up to them? I don’t deserve this, but you do deserve to know that I am not everything I’ve been portrayed to be.”

Suddenly I find myself wishing for rain rather than snow. The snow is silent as it falls, right now I need rain to pound against the windows and roof, to drown out the ache in my chest as I listen to Jin’s voice shake.

“I...I can’t open this door for you, Haneul. Because what you’ll see is so much less than what you’re expecting, and I can’t stand it.”

I never thought it was possible to drown on dry land, but as I gasp for air I find that there is none. I’m drowning beneath the emotions that Jin has thrown out into the void with such disdain, I’m drowning with the knowledge that I don’t know.

I don’t know what it feels like to be loved by people I’ve never met and still feel like I’m not enough. My own problem seems to wither in the face of Jin’s; feeling like I have to hold back just so I can fit into normal society.

As I stare down at the photos, I wonder which is worse: not feeling worthy of an unconditional love, or knowing nobody will ever love you for who you truly are.

Perhaps it doesn’t matter which is worse. At the end of the day, we’re both hurting.

Slowly gathering up the photo cards, I push them back under the door one by one. Jin says nothing as he collects them.

“First,” my voice is thick with emotion but I push through. “I have heard about you. I’ve seen your face literally everywhere, it’s exhausting to think that I was staring at my soulmate this entire time without knowing it was actually you. On the bright side, now I don’t feel so guilty for thinking that you were cute.”

Jin’s dry laugh tells me that he’s not feeling much better and is certainly not much more inclined to open this door.

“Second, I have no idea what that’s like. It sounds...terrifying and beautiful and just weird. Do you actually have that many fans?” I shake my head. “That’s not the point. You’re worried that I won’t want you because you’re not the ‘Jin’ that the world knows?”

Jin gives a muffled response that I interpret as a yes.

“In what world would that make you less in my eyes? I was never expecting to be paired with a world-renowned star and you feeling so inadequate about it all only confirms that I’m not paired with one!” My voice rises as my heart starts to pump harder. “In all reality, I’ve somehow been paired up with a person that’s normal enough to realize that they’re in way over their head, but they’re brave enough to keep swimming. So instead of tiring yourself out and refusing to let me see you for who you are, why don’t you let me throw you a life jacket or something?”

Jin sounds defensive as he questions me. “What are you even saying?”

“I’m making an analogy, Seokjin, let me think.”

He lets out a startled laugh, not saying anything else. As I ponder what to say that can have any sort of effect on him, I remember the storm outside.

Stretching and scooting even closer to the door, I close my eyes against the rising embarrassment. “Just, this is how I think about things sometimes. Hear me out, ok? Then you can decide how you want to do this. It’s your decision as much as it is mine, I won’t force you to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I promise.” I barely make it through my promise, squeezing my eyes extra tight in hopes that he won’t just decide to get up and leave right now.

“...I’ll listen.”

Rubbing the temples of my forehead, I send up a silent prayer that this will make sense.

“It’s snowing, right? I think you might be like those clouds outside right now. You’ve traveled all over the world, picking up little bits and pieces along the way. So many have looked up at you, wishing they could be up there in the sky with you. You’d love to bring them up with you, wouldn’t you? But it’s impossible for a cloud to pick up a person and carry them to the sky.”

“Ok,” Jin interrupts, and I notice with no small amount of relief that he almost sounds like he’s smiling. “I get where you’re going with this, but first I just have to say that I can’t believe you’re comparing me to a cloud.”

“Are you quite finished?” I quip out, grinning.

“For now.”

Sighing, I continue on. “Well, you’re afraid of what people might see if you let go. They’re so used to clear blue skies that you don’t want to scare them away with a bit of bad weather. Sure, sometimes you can send down a few snowflakes. You know, the kind of flurry that melts by morning. People like that, the snowflakes are beautiful and it let’s them know that you’re living in the same miserable world as the rest of them.”

“But?”

“But I think you’re like me. There’s so much going on inside of you; like doubting you deserve everything you’ve been given. You’ve become so good at managing your persona that you’ve forgotten how to let go when you need to. And you’ve forgotten that your soulmate is the one person guaranteed to not mind at all when you feel like everything is too heavy to hold onto anymore. I wouldn’t even bat an eye. It’s normal to feel that the weight of people’s love is sometimes too heavy to bear, Seokjin.”

I’m not sure if I should wait for him to respond, but I sit there quietly as I collect my thoughts. A glance back at the window shows the snow coming down in those same thick clusters as before, the world outside turned into a sheet of white.

Lost in my thoughts, I don’t even realize that minutes pass in silence. This small sliver of time has become infinite for the two of us. We’re too busy looking up at the clouds in our minds and wondering if today will be the day they rage and storm to notice a thing as trivial as time.

“Haneul?”

Jin’s voice brings me back to reality, the door a cruel reminder to our predicament.

“Yeah?”

I can hear him shuffling around again before he speaks. “What if when I start, I can’t stop?”

How do I tell him that I don’t have an answer? I’ve wondered the same thing my entire life.

“I...I’ve thought the same thing.” I admit.

“Really? About yourself?”

“Yeah, of course. Actually, I bet everybody has. But I’ve never heard about anyone going insane from venting their emotions and being honest before, so I think you’ll be able to stop.”

Jin breathes deep, and I wonder if he’s breathing better now. I don’t want to ask what his heart rate is just yet.

“And...you’ll be with me, right?”

I chuckle. “Yeah, with the lifejacket, remember?”

Jin joins in the laughter, the sound easing up some of the stress laid on my shoulders. “You need to decide if we’re talking about clouds or swimming.”

“Right, right.”

What I hope Jin is starting to understand is that I’ll willingly jump in alongside him and swim the length of the ocean if it means he’ll open the door.

It’s been so long, I want to say. I’ve been waiting for you for so long. Can’t you open up?

“See, what I can’t believe is that you didn’t keep my photo card.”

I look at the door with an incredulous expression. “Are you kidding me?! You hypocrite, you need to decide if you’re an arrogant idol or tortured soul!”

We burst out into laughter, amazed at the strangeness of the situation.

“What, I can’t be both?” Jin asks, still laughing.

“Whatever. Do what you want. You don’t happen to have a cushion that you could slide under the door, do you?”

“No, no cushions over here. I feel your pain though; these tile floors are merciless.”

I hum in agreement, switching positions so my legs don’t go numb. It’s quiet for a little while before I yawn, suddenly exhausted by the events of the day.

“So…” Jin starts. “What made you want to become a soulmate assistant?”

I purse my lips, wondering where to even begin. “I’ve always been fascinated by the idea of soulmates, I guess. Why we have them, what their function is, what leads us to them. It just made sense to pursue a degree in soulmate studies, and then obviously this was the next step.”

“So you just applied for Bighit out of the blue?”

Shaking my head, my eyes drift shut as I try to figure out a way to explain this in a way that doesn’t make me sound crazy. “I applied on purpose, it wasn’t just some random job to me. It made sense. I wanted to travel the world...find my soulmate along the way. This job provided the perfect opportunity to do just that.”

Jin must be changing his position as well, I hear him groan a little on the other side. “Well, congrats. You found him, and all within the comfort of Seoul!”

I chuckle, nodding. “That’s right. Now I think it’d be nice to travel, though. I think I’ll be able to enjoy it more.”

“Where do you want to go?”

There’s a part of me that wants to ask if he’s going to join me, but I bite back the comment for now.

“Honestly, I’m not sure. Before, I just wanted to go everywhere. It gave me higher chances of finding my soulmate. Now, though, I’m just realizing that I’ve never thought about going somewhere for the fun of it. Do you have any suggestions?”

“I might have a couple.” Jin pauses. “You really wanted to find me that badly?”

My cheeks burn with embarrassment at his question. “I..yeah, I guess I did. But I was also terrified of finding you.”

“Really?” Jin’s tone is so curious, it makes me smile. “Why would you be scared of finding me?”

I roll my eyes, wanting to tell him that he was obviously scared of being found. Instead I just answer him. “I was worried that you didn’t want to be found.”

It’s silent as Jin processes the new information. I begin to wonder if I’ve made him uncomfortable with my honesty, I can hear him taking slow, deep breaths.

“I’m sorry.”

The way he’s apologizing I know that he really didn’t want to be found. Letting out a dry laugh, I apologize as well. “I’m sorry, too.”

Jin moves around outside, I can feel the door moving under his weight. “This is weird, isn’t it?”

“I mean,” I start, grinning at his innocent view on things. “If you think about it, this is really just another day for me. This is my job, after all.”

Jin snorts. “Don’t tell me you’ve been in this position before.”

I shake my head, forgetting that he can’t see me. “No, never quite like this.”

“Can I…” His voice trails off while I strain to listen, making sure to not miss a single syllable. “Would it be weird if I took you to dinner tonight? You know, to celebrate your first day at your big new job.”

There’s a part of me that wants to tease him for asking me out before even opening the door, but there’s a part of me that’s too busy melting at his kind gesture to say anything of the sort.

“On one condition.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jin huffs. “We’ll open the door soon, I’m almost down to where I should be-”

My laugh cuts him off. “Well, yeah, I guess that’s a pretty good idea but I wasn’t going to say that.”

“Oh.”

“I’ll let you take me anywhere if you give your photocard back.” I jump away from the door as I hear loud noises from the other side, the door itself shaking. “What is going-”

My question is answered as Jin’s photocard is shoved under the door, a bit crumpled but worth it. I can’t keep in my laughter at Jin’s eagerness, Jin himself cracking up.

“I’m so glad you didn’t ask for someone else’s,” he pants, making me laugh even more. Carefully smoothing it out, I place it between my phone case and phone. Slipping my phone back into my pocket, I sneak a glance at my monitor.

72.

“Hey…” I hate to have to ask, in fear of what the answer may be, but I have to. “Has your heart rate come down at all?”

When I hear his machine beeping, I start to panic.

“Seokjin? Seokjin what’s-”

“Sorry,” Jin’s sheepish voice floats through the door. “I took it off a little while ago, I’m just booting it back up.”

I’m completely frozen, staring holes through the door. Slapping my hands against it, I vent my anger with him for nearly giving me a heart attack.

“Don't” bang! “do” bang! “that to me!”

The classic windshield wiper laugh that I’ve come to associate with Jin is what answers me, making me roll my eyes and slump back down. A few more seconds pass as Jin fiddles with the machine, trying to get it to read his heart rate.

“Hey!” He shouts excitedly. “I’m ok!”

This has me straightening right up. “Really? What does it say?”

“77!”

I gasp, grabbing the paging device but stopping before I can press it. “Wait, so you’re feeling better now, right?”

Jin laughs, the sound much lighter than before. I can almost feel his relief through the door. “Yeah, I’m great.”

“So...can I get out of this room now?”

The second I ask the question I curse myself, wishing I hadn’t. I probably should have talked to him a bit more, prepared him more before I threw this onto him.

Jin is quiet as he speaks. “But then what happens?”

I chew on my cheek as I ponder how to best prepare him for the rest of the day. “Well, we say hi to each other first. I’ll probably show you where the loose thread is on your sweater, it’s been driving me crazy this entire time.”

He laughs. “You noticed that?”

“Yeah, I did. I’m sure I have food on my face or something, don’t I? That would be just my luck.”

“No, you don’t.” Then, quieter, “You’re perfect.”

As a blush overtakes my face I choose to pretend I didn’t hear him. “We’ll have to go through the typical procedures, you know, going over the packet I have in my bag that’s for new soulmates, that kind of stuff. We actually have a really boring day ahead of us, Seokjin.”

“Just Jin.”

I blink at the door. “Oh, o-ok.” Then, “I’m just Han, if you want.”

“Like Han Solo?” I hit the door again, making Jin laugh. “Kidding, kidding.”

We chat for a couple more minutes, going over the plans for the day. It’s as I’m finishing to explain the trust exercises we’ll have to perform that Jin interrupts me.

“Sorry, but I just realized that I’d much rather have this conversation face to face. If you don’t mind.”

My eyebrows jump up at how confident he sounds. “Really? You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. Just, go easy on me, ok? I’m not all I’m cracked up to be.” He tries to brush it off as a joke, but it’s clear that he’s still feeling a little insecure. I guess that’s something I’ll just have to help him with over time, starting with today.

Pressing the pager, I smile as I watch the snow fall. “As long as we fix your sweater, I’m happy.”

Jin is laughing, claiming he can’t find any loose thread when the sound of footsteps approaching stops him.

“How’s it going, Seokjin?” Mr. Chung’s happy tone greets him.

“It’s going pretty well,” Jin politely replies. “I think we’re both ready to get up from off the floor.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Yuri’s voice rings out. “We should have brought you a chair, that’s all our fault.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jin responds as he groans getting up from the floor. “You don’t have to worry about me. Han, on the other hand, is a little intense. You might want to watch out for her analogies.”

“Hey!” I shout as everyone laughs. Mr. Chung checks Jin’s heart rate, making sure everything is clear and ready to go. Getting up from the floor, I smooth out my clothes. I head over to the window area again, checking my hair in the reflection.

Looking up at the snowy sky I hear the door unlock.

Whirling around, I stare at it as though it might suddenly come to life and attack me. When a soft knock sounds, I jump back.

It opens just enough for Yuri to stick her head in, grinning once she sees me.

“Hey, are you ok if we just use this room for the rest of this day? Or do you wanna switch?”

I’m mute, waiting to see my soulmate. I just shrug, letting her know that I don’t care. Thankfully Yuri is an expert in anxious soulmates, so she interprets my meaning just fine.

“You can head in, Seokjin.” Yuri says as she heads back out, leaving the door slightly ajar.

I cling to the window frame, knuckles white as I stare out at the storm. Focusing on breathing in and out, I don’t even notice that Jin has entered the room until I see his reflection in the window.

The world moves slowly for a moment as I look up at him in the window, his hands fidgeting at his sides as he waits for me to turn around.

His cheeks are pink, the periwinkle color of his sweater offsetting his dark brown hair that he has swept back. He’s chewing on the inside of his cheek like I am, causing his lips to pout.

“We might not be able to go out and eat if it keeps snowing like that,” Jin breathes out. Even though we were a mere inches apart before, the only thing keeping us apart being a door, I can’t help but hold my breath as I hear him speak.

Taking a deep drink of whatever courage I have left in me, I turn to look at him over my shoulder.

He almost looks away upon meeting eyes with me, but something keeps him planted where he is in my gaze.

“That’s alright,” I mumble, eyes sweeping over his face and heart clenching as I see him shifting from one foot to another, clearly uncomfortable to be under such direct scrutiny. “I don’t mind cooking.”

Jin gives me a soft close-lipped smile, his cheeks rounding out. “Me neither.”

I turn back to the window, standing on my tiptoes as I watch the people scurrying below. One person is trudging along holding more bags than I thought humanly possible, making me smile.

“Come look at this,” I wave Jin over, hoping to let him know that my attention is no longer solely on him.

Jin ambles over, pausing for a moment a few steps behind me before taking the last couple of steps. I point down at the person holding their bags, grinning as another person stops to help them.

Through the reflection in the window I can tell that Jin isn’t watching them at all, his head pointed down but his eyes looking over at me. Something tells me that if he knew I saw him, he’d pass out right here and now, so I pretend to not know.

As the two people share the load of bags and walk toward the nearest bus stop, I sigh. “See? There are still good people out in the world.”

My hands are still clinging to the window frame, my tight grip the one thing that gives my anxiety away. To my eternal shock, Jin raises one shaky hand to my own, his warm hand resting over mine before gently detaching it from the window and smoothing it out.

Neither one of us dares to breathe as he repeats the action with my other hand, taking extra care to smooth out my clenched fingers before releasing them.

I look up at my soulmate, my exhausted heart managing to pick up some speed as I find him looking down at me already, his eyes alight with stars.

His voice is low as he mumbles out, “You’re different from what I thought you’d be.”

The way he’s looking at me feels like walking out into the world the morning after a blizzard, everything hushed and glittering. It has this way of making my own thoughts quiet down, focusing on just this one thing.

I’m not sure how to put anything into words, so I just smile up at him. “That’s good, right?”

Jin nods, a bit of his hair falling forward with the action. “Yes.”

My attention returns to the snow outside once I see the tips of his ears going red. My smile is reflected in the glass, and my heart stutters as I see Jin’s mesmerized smile mirror my own. Locking eyes in the hazy reflection, I laugh a little.

“What’s so funny?” Jin asks, turning to look at me.

Shaking my head, I look down at my shoes before glancing up at him. “I’m probably not what you expected because I compared you to a cloud.”

He grins, looking down at his shoes before glancing up at me. “Yeah, that stung a little. I try very hard to maintain a nice figure, and yet here you are, comparing me with a big, fat fluffy thing.”

Laughing at his offended expression, I shrug. “I had to come up with something! It’s weird; for all the times I’ve dreamed about meeting my soulmate, I’ve never come up with what to say. That was the best I could do under pressure.”

“No, you did great, really.” He smiles easily now, feeling a bit more comfortable. “You’ve never really thought of what to say, though?”

I shake my head. “No, have you?”

Jin gives me a long look before nodding. “Oh yeah, definitely.”

“Let’s hear it, then.” I nudge him, Jin swaying on his feet as though I had shoved him across the room. I roll my eyes at his dramatic manner, loving every second of it.

“I’ll tell you under one condition.”

“What?”

Jin sighs, coming to stand behind me. The hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up with goosebumps as he brings his arms around me, gently grabbing my hands and slowly bringing them up to cover my eyes.

“You’re not allowed to look at me while I say it.”

He keeps his hands over mine as they rest over my eyes, effectively shutting out the rest of the world. I keep in my laugh, not wanting to deter him.

“Ok, I won’t peek.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

“Good.” Jin’s voice is low and quiet as I nearly jolt out of my skin when I realize just how close he is. He waits to make sure my hands aren’t going to move from my eyes before he removes his hands, one coming to rest on the small of my back before he moves away. I’m left feeling suddenly cold, almost reaching out for him but reminding myself to stay still.

His voice comes from before me, just off to the right as he begins to speak. I can almost picture him leaning against the windowsill, watching me with those bright eyes.

“I’m not extraordinarily talented at a lot of things,” Jin starts, the sound of his voice immediately begging me to gravitate toward him. “I can’t paint you beautiful things or write you award winning songs, because sometimes the things that go on inside my head can’t be translated onto paper. I might not be able to sing for you the way you’d like, because my voice has a tendency to shake when I’m alone with someone I care about.”

Warmth fills my chest at his words even as I want to tell him that none of it matters. His lack of skill in all areas of life is only natural, and I have a sneaking suspicion that he’s better at it all than he lets on.

“I’ve been learning to play the piano, but I’m no Beethoven. If I mess up the keys it’s because I can feel you looking at me, and I just can’t help it.” Jin pauses, taking a shaky breath. “There might be times when I can’t be there for you, because I’m over on the other side of the world on some stage, but there are a few things that I can promise you I’m good at.”

Jin’s hands are warm as they wrap about my own, slowly pulling my hands away from my eyes. I blink them open, looking up to see my soulmate standing before me, still leaning up against the windowsill just as I pictured. His cheeks are pink as he looks down to where he holds my hands in his, making no move to let go.

“I can work the knots out of your shoulders when you have a long day at work, and I promise to remember your favorite meal. When we’re far away from each other, I’ll send you annoying messages every chance I get so you know that I’m thinking of you.” I chuckle a little, the sound bringing Jin’s eyes back up to my face. “I’ll keep the receipts for everything I ever buy you. The dishes won’t be left in the sink overnight, and I’m really good at listening.”

My vision begins to blur as tears threaten to spill over, but Jin doesn’t stop. The snow falling behind him frames him in a winter wonderland, and my mind burns the image into my memory.

“I’m not very good at much, but I’ll be good to you.”

Staring at him, I start to see the pieces that Jin hides from everyone else. I squeeze his hands, pledging to take the time to learn everything that there is to discover about him.

My eyes drift down to land on the single loose thread on the collar of his sweater, and I laugh even as a tear escapes me.

Reaching up to pluck the thread, I give my soulmate a wink which he immediately returns almost out of habit.

“You remember asking me how my first day of work was going?” When he nods, looking a bit confused, I continue. “I know what the honest answer is, now.”

Jin looks intrigued as he gives me a shy smile. “What is it?”

Stepping in a bit closer, I pull his arms around me before lightly feathering through his hair. “Pretty great.”

The last thing I see before Jin leans forward to plant a delicate kiss to my forehead are the clouds that have finally stopped snowing, no longer weighed down by their heavy burden.

Fin.

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heyyyharry · 4 years

Text

Better People (one shot)

“Do you think there’s a chance for us in the future? In a few years, when we’re better people?”

...in which Y/N makes a bad decision at 2 AM. (angst/smut)

Word count: 2.4k

Warning: phone sex.

“I can’t sleep. Talk to me.”

She could barely recognize her own voice. She felt her mouth moving, but the words were someone else’s. This wasn’t her. She had grown out of this person. She was no longer the girl who ran back to him whenever things went wrong in her life as if he was the answer. He was not. If anything, he was more questions. Questions she could never understand. And yet, in a fleeting moment, confusion and distraction and a false sense of reassurance were all she needed.

“It’s 2 AM,” he said, his voice was rough yet gentle. She heard the rustling of bed sheets and felt a sting in her heart as she wondered if he had to keep his voice down and crawled out of bed so he wouldn’t wake whoever was sleeping by his side.

It’d been six months. He must have been with plenty of others. She couldn’t condemn him for it because she had, too. She’d kissed strangers, let them fuck her in the bathroom of a club, in the car, on the couch, in this bed. She’d gone on dates and had a good laugh with people who’d chosen not to stay. They had either not cared enough about her or they’d eventually realized they could never replace him.

She felt like an idiot. He had never been hers. She had never been his. Or at least that was what she wanted him to think so he didn’t have so much power over her. If people knew how much you loved them, they would take you for granted. And he had taken her for granted, so many times before. Of course, she hadn’t been a saint. They had destroyed each other and put each other back only to destroy each other again.

As toxic as that was, she missed it. She missed the euphoria of being with him. She missed the chase. She missed the fall. She missed him. And she wondered if he missed her, too.

“Are you alone?” she dared to ask.

The rustling of sheets made her sigh in relief as she knew he was still in bed, probably alone, sitting with his back against the headboard, naked under the sheets. God, she could picture it. And she hated that her memory was all she could rely on when it came to him.

“Yes,” he said, and there was a pause. “Talking to me won’t help you sleep well, love.”

She knew it was stupid, but her heart fluttered at the way he said the pet name. Love. If only that was true.

“You don’t want me to hang up,” she said. Not a question.

“I don’t want you to hang up,” he replied. Again, not a question.

She gave a nod even though he couldn’t see her. “I thought you had my number blocked.”

“I did…” His voice was lower and raspier than usual.

“What made you unblock me?”

“I don’t know.” Something told her he was being honest. “Wanted to call you,” he went on, “But I didn’t know if you’d wanted me to…”

“Aren’t you glad one of us had balls to do it?” she said, laughing.

He also laughed. It hurt when she realized how much she’d missed that sound. She kicked off the covers, mentally cursing her AC for being a bitch during one of the hottest nights that summer. She was only wearing her panties, which had been soaked from the thoughts of him before she’d picked up her phone and decided to call him at 2 AM.

Eyes on the ceiling, she whispered, “Tell me a memory.”

It was a little game they used to play. She assumed he remembered it.

“Y/N,” he said in a growl, and her heart sank as she thought he was going to hang up. She would be so ashamed if he left her now. He could have been nicer and not answered the call. Her cheeks grew hot and not because of the room temperature. “Will you promise to go to sleep afterwards?”

She shut her eyes and smiled, feeling relieved and stupid. “I promise.”

He seemed hesitant, but as his breath caught, she knew he was doing what she was supposed to do. She grew confident and slipped her hand into her damp underwear, stroking her wet clit as his voice took her back to one of their good memories.

“Met Gala night,” he began, his voice deep and mesmerizing. “I left the after-party early and found you waiting outside my house. You were wearing that little black dress that I loved. You smiled so wide when you saw me. But I knew you weren’t happy. You were jealous, angry even. You didn’t like to see me interact with her. You didn’t like the media talking about her and me like we were still a thing. I told you she and I were over, that I wasn’t seeing someone…and there was only you…but you didn’t believe me.”

“You didn’t care if I didn’t believe you,” Y/N managed to speak as her fingers worked on her clit. He was panting. She closed her eyes and saw him teasing himself so he could finish with her.

“I shouldn’t have cared,” he breathlessly admitted. “But I did...Fuck, I did...” Those words pulled the strings of her heart and she let out a whimper at an attempt of his name. He continued, “I let you in. And you kissed me wild. You made fun of my bow as you told me to strip.”

They both laughed despite the tension. Her fingers didn’t stop as she wiggled out of her panties and lay naked and sweaty in between the damp sheets. She wished they smelt like him. From the pattern of his breathing, she pictured his hand going faster on his cock as he fucked into his fist, imagining it was her pussy, remembering what it was like to fuck her instead.

“I remember...” he went on, “eating you out on the sofa. You were wet, dripping...fuck...you were so ready for me...I always cum so hard thinking about you that night...sitting on the sofa...with your legs spread...and me on the floor sucking on your pussy.”

“Nobody eats me out that way,” she confessed, squirming with the mixture of pleasure and discomfort. She wished he was here. She wanted his hands on her, groping her breasts, his fingers in her mouth as he fucked her with his other hand. “Nobody fucks me like you.”

She felt so vulnerable once she’d said it. She hadn’t meant to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d ruined her for everyone else. What if she wasn’t his best? That would be so embarrassing.

But then, between ragged breathing, he told her, “Nobody fucks me like you, either.”

“Really?” She didn’t want to sound hopeful. She didn’t want to think there was hope in whatever they were. But she did have hope. In this very moment, there was something more.

“Even now,” he gasped. She could hear him fuck into his hand. “God, Y/N.”

Six months since the last time he’d said her name like that. She slipped a finger into her cunt and fucked her the way he would, though it wasn’t the same, she almost came.

“Wish you were here,” he groaned. She told herself he didn’t mean it literally. And yet...

“Harry, what would you do to me if I was there?”

“What wouldn’t I do to you?” he chuckled. “I’d suck your tits. Fuck you with my fingers until you come all over on my sheet. Then I’d make you come with my mouth. You’d be sensitive but still beg me for more. Like you did that night...I’d flip you onto your stomach and fuck you from behind. You’d love that, wouldn’t you? You love when I’m rough with you.”

“I do, Harry. I do.”

“I miss the way you say my name. Please...say it again, Y/N.”

“Harry...I-I miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” he choked out. She was getting close. “Another finger, Y/N. Put me on speaker and stroke your clit.”

Even when he wasn’t physically here, he still knew her body better than he did. She put him on speaker and rested the phone on her chest as she used her free hand to get her off. It felt good but not quite. Not the way he made her feel.

“Are you close, baby?”

She nodded frantically, her mouth agape. “Y-Yes...Can I?”

“Yes, baby, come for me. Need it,” he grunted. She tried to picture his face as he came. Lips parted. Head tossed back. Hand fisting the sheets. Hand pumping his cock as he painted his abs with his cum.

She came so hard, shouting into the dark of the night, shaking, trembling, breathless.

Then there was only silence.

Just them catching their breath.

What was there to say if it wasn’t the dirty things to get each other off. They would never say they missed each other when there wasn’t sex involved. How stupid she was. So fucking stupid. She didn’t like this at all. Once the lust was over and there was only the love. She felt bare and weak.

She was on the verge of tears when his voice broke the silence. “Y/N, are you still there?” She didn’t know if it was her wishful thinking or he genuinely sounded desperate. “Y/N.”

Stop saying my name, she wanted to tell him, but she composed herself and didn’t allow her tears to fall.

“Yes, I’m still here.”

He was quiet for a moment. “We can’t do this again,” his voice trembled. “You know that, right?”

She did. But there was something about the way he said it that made her think he wanted her to reject that idea. To be on his side. Or was she too obsessed with him that she wanted him to want her to stay?

“I know,” she said despite herself.

“One question before you leave me,” he tried to sound funny, but failed. “Has there been anyone else?”

Her stomach knotted. “Have I been fucking other people you mean?”

“No.” He laughed quietly. “But answer that one, too.”

“Yes, I have.”

“So have I.”

They already knew they’d fucked other people in the last six months. But hearing him confirm it made her feel like crying. She needed to hear it, though. Maybe that was why he’d asked her to answer.

“I meant to ask…” he said, “has there been anyone else...like me? Have I...have I been replaced?”

She swallowed hard, eyes pressed shut. “There’s only one you.”

“That’s reassuring.” Is it, Harry? “There’s only one you, too, Y/N.”

Those words were the final straw. Before she knew it, she was crying. The tears had begun to fall and she didn’t know how to stop. He didn’t hang up. He listened to her cry in utter silence. There was nothing left to lose now. She had to say it. “I cannot leave you, Harry. Not really. I’ll always come back. Like tonight. I’ll break and call you and we’ll ruin each other again.”

“I’ll always take you back,” he said, his voice unsteady as if he was holding back tears.

“We’ve failed so many times before.”

Instead of telling her there would be next time and next time would be different, he said, “I know.”

So he’d completely given up on the possibility of them making things right. He wouldn’t give them another chance to be anything more than this. A part of her felt relieved even though the rest of her was dying.

“I told myself we’d be better off as friends,” he said. “We were too toxic for each other. We fought all the time. We got jealous for the stupidest reasons. It was like being with my worst enemy and my best friend at the same time. But I guess...I’d rather hate you and be able to have you than just be friends and not really have you...”

“That’s a very bad sign,” she laughed despite her crying.

“It is,” he painfully agreed.

“Do you think there’s a chance for us in the future?” she ventured. “In a few years, when we’re...better people?”

He took some time to think. “What if the better versions of us find other people? Or what if only one of us does? What then?”

She felt herself smirking. “Tough luck.”

He sighed. “I don’t like the idea of you getting better and ending up with someone else. I’m too selfish. I want you for myself even though I cannot keep you.”

“I feel the same way.” She pulled a pillow to her chest. The emptiness in this bed was killing her. If only they could fuck and forget this conversation and pretend to be happy while they weren’t. But she knew they couldn’t anymore. “Whatever happens, will happen,” she told him. “If people are meant to be together, they’ll end up together.”

She didn’t know if she believed that, but it felt like the right thing to say.

“I hate when you cry because of me...” said Harry.

“I hate crying because of you.”

He paused again. She hated when he did because she would always get anxious while second-guessing what he might say next and whether it would hurt her.

“You promised me to go to sleep when we hang up. Can you keep that promise, Y/N?”

“Yes,” she choked out the word as hot tears streamed down her cheeks and wetted her pillow.

“Goodbye, Y/N,” he said but didn’t hang up right away. Perhaps he was waiting for her to say something, to give him a sign.

So she gathered all her courage and said, “Goodbye sounds like the end...I don’t like that.”

“How about goodnight?” he sounded hopeful. “In a year or two, I’ll be better, and you’ll be better. And if we still want each other, we can start again.”

That would be too good to be true. However, she would hold onto that.

“That sounds good to me.” She worked up a smile. “Goodnight, Harry.”

And then he was gone.

#harry styles #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots #harry styles writing #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfics #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff

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sugoi-writes · 4 years

Note

Ahhhh imagine FG in his skinny form and he’s self conscious but MC reassures him that he’s still adorable and handsome. Stretch marks and all and of course helps him as he recovers to his normal size

*TOO CUTE TOO CUTE* implied n/sfw ahead!

You hear a heavy sigh from the bathroom, rousing from your sleepy state.

“Taishiro...?” you question quietly, your grogginess evident in your tone. You hear Fatgum shifting around, before he responds.

“Y-Yeah, it’s me!! Sorry... ‘just can’t sleep,” your boyfriend admits, glancing back at his reflection. He reaches up and pinches his cheek, giving it a good frisk before letting go. It was clear why he was so restless and uneasy.

Day Nine of Slimgum, and he was unable to keep anything on, let alone start gaining weight. He wasn’t sure what was going on. He was even pacing himself as usual! No stress eating, and he was currently not under-eating! ...So why was he still stuck like this?

Taishiro shudders when he feels you come up behind, snaking your arms loosely around his middle. He wasn’t used to the feeling, but it made his heart warm and flutter nonetheless.

He places his hands on top of yours as you strain to rest your head on his shoulder (even now: your boyfriend was STILL an absolute unit). “Baby... this has been going on for a while...” you say gently, nuzzling into the crook of his neck,” Is there something bothering you?”

Taishiro glances away from your shared reflection, laughing nervously,” W-Well... you know me, a little too well,” Taishiro says with a grin, earning a tired giggle from you,” But... this... y’know, this... physique. This isn’t me... and I haven’t been like this-- for this long-- ...in a long time.”

You seem to understand, your fingers weaving into Fatgum’s. Your sleepy acts of affection make his smile soften,” I guess... this is just... driving me a little nuts. Usually, people think that me looking like this is a good thing, or even healthier for me. But: I think you know better than anyone else that I’m... incredibly vulnerable in this state.”

“Mentally?” you pipe up gently, before Fatgum hums in approval.

“Yeah... and physically. So, I guess I’m just a little paranoid. This body... isn’t ideal. And the fact that I’m not back to tip-top shape concerns me. And beyond that, I...” Fatgum hesitates, biting his lip as he closes his eyes,” I honestly... well, I hate the way I feel when I look at myself. Especially when I look like this.”

You feel Taishiro tense up, his fists clamping down onto your hands as you look to his reflection. Your heart could shatter at the wavering tone in his voice.

“Baby...” you whine, spinning him around to face you,” I... I understand why you’re uncomfortable, but...” You glance away, a flush rising in your cheeks,” P-Please don’t take this the wrong way, but... I think you’re just as beautiful now as you are when you’re... normal. And in some ways, you’re more beautiful like this.”

Fatgum blinks, appalled,” Beautiful?” he echoes, leaving you to nod sheepishly.

“Y-Yeah... Tai... you are gorgeous,” you assure softly, cupping Fatgum’s cheek tenderly. He smiles genuinely, squeezing your hand.

“M-Maybe to you... but... I really don’t think so. I just... never liked this body image, y’know? It almost feels... gross, to me.” Taishiro subconsciously reaches for his other arm, clutching it as he glances away from you. You can see the beginnings of deep, purple stretch marks poking out from under his sleeve. You take his hand before he can dig his nails into his arms, and take his chin in your other hand.

“Toyomitsu Taishiro,” you say firmly, making him look to you. ” You are not gross. You are beautiful,” you press, before lifting the sleeve of his shirt,” ...look at your arms... how wonderful they are. Even while they’re shredded, I can still see some of you here...”

You playfully pinch his underarm, making Fatgum yelp in surprise. You wiggle some of the loose skin, smiling,” See? Here’s some of the chub~” you gently coo, making Fatgum smile sheepishly.

“G-Gummy bear...” he stammers, before your hands settle on his shoulders. “And look at these traps,” you say smoothly, gently rubbing happy circles into his tense shoulders,” Even though you’re much slimmer here... I can feel a bit of give right... here~”

You poke at the junction between his neck and shoulder, making Taishiro yelp and laugh nervously. Clearly, Slimgum was ticklish.

“Y-Y/N...! St-Stop, I get it! It tickles, Gum--!”

You give him no reprieve as your hands suddenly dash towards his ribs, tickling him through his nightshirt. Taishiro starts bellowing with laughter, trying to swat your hands away. You don’t back down from the fight, staying on the offense. When he manages to grab your wrists, you put yourself flush against his chest, making him fluster.

“And this stomach, wow... I can feel how solid your core is right now...” you say, tone like velvet as you press your abdomen against his,” ...but, even surrounding this muscle, these abs... you’re still ticklish... and you still have a liiiiittle tum~” you purr, making Taishiro’s chest swell with festering heat.

“G-Gummy bear...!” Taishiro protests, but you free your wrists, your hands going under his shirt. You smile up to him, your eyes half lidded as your fingers linger against the waistband of his athletic shorts.

“...and... here... right were your core dips,” you whisper, your words practically dripping passion,” ...we both know... that you're definitely packing some serious stuff downstairs... here...” you tense, as you run a finger along his inner thigh.

A warm smile blooms on your face as you lean up to kiss his cheek,” Honeybear~” you coo, making Fatgum shudder. Your tone has dipped an octave, your tone gravely and intoxicating.

“...and... of course, here~” you say cheekily, before giving Fatgum a harty slap on his ass. Taishiro nearly yelps, grabbing your shoulders and shoving you back slightly.

“Y-Y/N...” Fatgum practically groans, before making firm eye contact with you,” Do you... Do you really like this form? Do you... still--y’know... feel attracted to me.. despite my different my body is?”

“Trust me when I say... I fell in love with you, multiple times... When I first saw you... when I first saw you with your students... How gentle and sweet and hilarious you are... And even when I see you struggling like this... You are the most breathtaking person in the world, Taishiro... and I’m more than willing to show you... with words or actions... your pick~”

Taishiro can only stand their flabbergasted, before your lips collide passionately. He can’t help but push you against the wall, his knees and arms trapping you beneath him. You grin mischievously, looping your arms around your neck as your mind wonders what exactly you were gonna do to him...

When you part, Taishiro huffs hoarsely, practically tearing off his shorts.

” This... kinda defeats the purpose-- but...” Fatgum looks down to you, as you feel his arousal bumping against your stomach,” but... you better sweat me out of my skin, sugar.”

Days of glorious cuddles, passion, and movie nights have gone by, and FINALLY, after stumbling into the bathroom... Fatgum erupts into a happy barrage of laughter. You jolt upright, your heart pounding as you wake up from your intense nap.

“H-Huh, whu-- Tai?” you whine, before you see your absolute unit of a boyfriend burst through the bathroom door.

“GUESS WHO’S BACK!!!”

You could only spring out of bed and shriek with glee, nearly pouncing on your boyfriend as he welcomes you with open arms. He spins you around happily, peppering your face with kisses.

“I couldn’t have done it without you, babe! We finally did it! I finally feel like myself again! I’m a whole new me!!!” Fatgum cheers, squeezing you tightly as you do your best to hug him back.

“I told you that you’d get back into shape soon!” you jab, squeezing him back as he continues to adore you. You pull back from him, hands splaying out over his wide chest.

You flick his nose with your index finger, chuckling,” That’s what I like to hear~”

“But don’t forget what we talked about... you were still beautiful then... and you’re just as beautiful now, especially since you’re safe and happy~” Taishiro grins down at you, kissing you sweetly as he nods.

“Yeah, I know... If it’s a part of who I am... I should try to adapt and appreciate it. And if you already love it... then maybe I can too~”

The two of you continue to celebrate, basking in the particularly warm and divine moment. Taishiro was more than relieved, but you were just content with the fact that you finally got through to him. And hopefully, he will understand and see himself the way that you do.

#fatgum x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #taishiro toyomitsu #bnha smut #mha smut #there's still fluff I promise hrjdjjdkd #i c a n t help it #i crave the sweet man #t h e c a n d y m a n

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yandere-daydreams · 4 years

Note

BSD Fyodor or Dazai letting his captive darling outside after being stuck isolated and indoors? This request is in no way related to the month and counting I've been stuck at home due to covid19, not at all.

It’s been weeks since I’ve seen the sun and the last human contact I had was when my gloved hand brushed against that of an absent-minded cashier. Dazai might be preferable, at this point. Just for the sake of a change of scenery.

TW: Kidnapping, Stockholm Syndrome, and Mentions of Mental/Physical Abuse.

Dazai wasn’t a generous man.

You’d been with him long enough to know that. He wasn’t kind, and as far as you could tell, he didn’t try to be. Throughout your captivity, he’d proven himself to be cruel, apathetic, sociopathic, uncaring for everything and anything you had to say unless it had to do with how grateful you were for him or what a loving kidnapper he was. The punishments were constant, the rewards were nonexistent, and you’d been forced to shove the idea of escaping out of your mind. Surviving was enough, when Dazai didn’t seem to care whether you lived or died.

With this in mind, your apprehension was understandable, when he dropped a pile of street-clothes on your bed and told you to get dressed. You’d refused, at first, crossed your arms and reaffirmed that he’d break your ankles the moment you started towards the door, but Dazai promised something much worse if you didn’t cooperate. That’d been enough to convince you.

Even now, you couldn’t really bring yourself to trust it. You were already outside, the sky just beginning to darken and Dazai’s flat half a block away, but you didn’t feel like you’d ever left at all. Sure, you could feel the sea-breeze and see other people - real, tangible people - but… you couldn’t, at the same time. Dazai had an iron-clad hold on your wrist, but you doubted he needed to be so cautious, especially when you were pressed to his side, never daring to stray more than a step away. Yokohama wasn’t a big city, but it was a crowded one. If you talked to someone, would they help you? If you screamed, would they intervene? Or, was this a test? Could this be a test? You didn’t know how far Dazai’s connections stretched, honestly. He couldn’t pay off a street’s worth of people… well, not unless he--

“You’re thinking too much,” He said, pulling you out of your thoughts. He hadn’t said a word since you left his apartment, and while you weren’t opposed to the silence, his mocking tone came as a relief. It meant this was normal, that he was normal. You could deal with this, as long as he was going to act as superior as he always did. “It’s not a good look you, honestly. Not when you have better things to pay attention to.” He paused, taking a moment to pout. “Am I not entertaining to you anymore, love?”

You didn’t waste time. Unlike him, you didn’t have the luxury of being on the blunt-side of his carving knife. “I don’t trust you,” You mumbled, eyeing the pavement wearily. “I know you’re planning something. You’re always planning something. I’m not going to fall for it, this time.”

He held a hand to his heart, mocking offense with an over-exaggerated sigh. Playful and patronizing in just the right balance as to best get on your nerves. It was an art Dazai had perfected, with more time and practice than he deserved. “I’m just trying to do something nice, and what do you do? Accuse me, attack me. I was starting to think you liked me, too.” He shook his head, his grip loosening, fingers instead intertwining themselves with yours. You weren’t sure if you should be relieved he was no longer cutting off your circulation, or sickened by the display of unearned affection. “Just walk with me, (Y/n). If you’re good, I’ll be able to let you out all the time. You would like to get out of that cramped room of yours more often, wouldn’t you?”

“Not if it means I have to spend more time with you.” The venom in your voice was half-hearted, diluted by time and use, but Dazai smiled regardless, determined to find amusement in whatever meager responses you gave. You glanced to your sides once more, taking in the many brightly-lit shops and assorted bystanders for the first time. You never realized how narrow the streets were, or how small your body actually was. No one was looking at you, but it seemed like they were all glancing in your direction, glaring every now and then. You tugged at Dazai’s hand nervously, eager to do something. He only laughed. “Osamu, where are we--”

“Dazai.”

He stopped, and so did you, your lips parting slightly as you saw him go tense. Something heavy and knotted settled inside of your throat, keeping you quiet as you scanned over the redhead that’d come to a stop in front of him. You recognized the man vaguely, his suit bringing back dim, fuzzy memories from before your ankle was permanently chained to a wall, but failed to put a name to his face. You didn’t have to wonder for long, though. Dazai was quick to clear it up. “Chuuya,” He greeted, his voice suddenly monotone. Unfriendly, but not unwelcoming. “Shouldn’t you be on your way home? I thought preteens still had curfews, these days.”

‘Chuuya’ grimaced, but his response came quickly. “And I thought perverts were supposed to keep their hands to themselves.” With that, his attention shifted to you, dark eyes falling until they met yours. You stiffened, reflexively, shifting so you were half-hidden behind Dazai, but that did little to protect you from his prying gaze. It was like he was looking for something, searching for it. Suddenly, you were glad Dazai chose such a conservative outfit, despite the stifling heat, one that covered the bruises. You didn’t want to give him anything else to look at. “He’s not holding you hostage, is he? I wouldn’t be surprised, the bastard’s hit his head a few too many times for everything to still be working up there.”

You hesitated, expecting Dazai to answer before you had the chance to. But, he only grinned, letting you go completely and resting a hand on your shoulder, pushing you forward gently, encouraging you to speak. That’s all you had to do, really, speak. A simple, flat ‘he is’ would’ve gotten your point across, and even if Chuuya couldn’t do anything, there were other people around, dozens of them. Dazai wouldn’t be able to get away, not if a large group took notice. Certainly not if you put up a fight.

But, as soon as you opened your mouth, it was like something in your chest cracked. It was an overwhelming, paralyzing fear, one that flooded through veins and made it impossible to do so much as breathe when you knew Chuuya was watching. You might as well’ve been in your bedroom again, curled into a ball and shoved in a corner, crying and bleeding as Dazai yelled about something possessive and jealous and crazy. You were vulnerable, and you were weak, and you were so, so scared.

So, you didn’t say anything. You let out a pitiful, broken sob, shut your eyes as tightly as you could, and buried your head in Dazai’s coat, only relaxing when you felt his fingers entangle themselves in your hair. You didn’t feel safe, you couldn’t feel safe with someone like him, but…

Fuck, it felt better than the alternative.

If Dazai shared in your dependence, you couldn’t tell. He chuckled as you clung to his waist, determined to dig your nails into him and never let go. “It’s been a long day,” Dazai explained, Chuuya grumbling something incoherent. It didn’t matter, not really.

You had a feeling Dazai’s words were more for his pride than anything.

“It’s really a miracle my sweetheart could ever manage without me.”

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oceansmelodysblog · 3 years

Text

A Dream of the Past

Post-botw Zelink Fanfiction

version française : Un rêve du passé

Together we rode through the wind and weather as the rain whipped into our faces and soaked through our clothes to the skin. From then on, I watched Zelda to see if she managed to keep up, or if the heaviness from the relentless rain affected her too much. She was too stubborn to admit that she had reached her limit and pushed herself beyond it. As far as I could remember, she had been like this before the calamity, spending hours in the sacred waters of the springs to awaken her strength.

Slowly a memory crept into my consciousness that I thought I had forgotten:

I watched over the entrance to the spring of power while Zelda prayed until the early hours of the night, however without success. She opened her heart to me and revealed her sorrows and grief, then when I heard her voice tremble, I knew she was fighting back her tears and turned to her. As her chosen knight, I was not allowed to watch her pray, let alone look at her during this sacred ritual in her white dress that had become transparent from the water. But I had to do it, as her best friend and closest companion.

The bright moonlight illuminated her bare shoulders, while half of her face remained in darkness. Her right green eye reflected the light of the moon as tears ran down her face. So far I remembered through the images in the Sheikah Stone, but what came next struck like a fallen star to the ground.

I sheathed my master sword and, defying the resistance of the holy water, ran to her. I barely managed to catch her as she collapsed clutching at my arms. She was exhausted, physically as well as mentally. Sobbing and trembling, she cried her soul out as I held her head tightly against me.

"Link, why does it hurt so much? This burden on my heart, I can hardly endure it and feel myself drowning. Link. Please reach out your hand to me and pull me out of this darkness of uncertainty!" Zelda's voice trembled and broke off as she lifted her head in my arms and looked up at me. Her eyes were reddened from her desperate effort to hold back the tears and now they shone like the surface of spring water reflecting the radiance of the moon. Gently I stroked the strands of her hair behind her ear, worrying that I might shatter her. I leaned my forehead against hers, looked deep into her eyes and exhaled my desperate breath. It was hard for me as well to carry the burden of the hero, when all I wanted to be was a simple knight from Hateno, living modestly and untroubled with my family.

I noticed a heavy tear running down my cheek and how tenderly Zelda wiped it away and looked sorrowfully into my eyes, tears gathering at the edges of the corners of her eyes.

"Shhh, Zelda mark my words. I will follow you into any darkness, however dangerous and hopeless," I whispered against her lips, but before I could give in to her pleading eyes and break the chivalric oath, I reached into the water for her legs and lifted her into my arms. I stomped through the hip-high water, shifting my weight with each step, deliberate, so that I wouldn't fall into the wet with her.

"Link? Are you all right? You just said my name and then spoke of dangerous darkness... isn't it safe here?"

Her concerned voice snapped me out of my reminiscence. My heart was pounding and my breaths were heavier than usual.

'What was that just now? It felt like I was there again!’ it flashed through my mind. 'It felt so real, I could sense her lovely scent!'

"Link!"

I looked up with a jolt and gazed into wide-open eyes. In the shadow of the rain clouds and her hood, her normally emerald eyes now shimmered in the dark green of the Gerudo Desert plants. Not sure I was back in reality, I squinted my eyes and shook my head slightly to clear my head.

"Forgive me princess. I saw a vision of sorts, I'm not entirely sure though, it felt like I experienced it once. If I startled you by talking while I was doing it, I'm sorry. Nothing like that has ever happened to me before, at least there was no one close enough to say it did."

I saw her looking at me curiously and puzzled, but she didn't ask what it was about. She always gave me the space I needed to open up on my own, which I appreciated about her. Only once had she pushed me to give her an answer to my silent behaviour before the calamity, but after that she began to understand me even without words. I didn't even know if she could remember it, if it was really a memory and if I had just fantasised it, which wouldn't necessarily make it more pleasant to tell her that I was having strangely intimate dreams about her.

She gave me an encouraging smile and I returned it with the same. But then her pale lips caught my eye and abruptly stopped her mare while I signalled my mustang to halt.

"Let's rest in the old barn up ahead, our horses need a rest. The rain is draining their strength too." If I had told her to take a break, she would have looked at me defiantly and ridden on without me. But so I made her pay more attention to the feelings of her companion animal and secretly persuaded her to warm up.

In the old barn we found some hay, which of course we scattered on the ground together to give us and the horses a dry and pleasant-smelling place to lie down. Altay and Himawari lay down on the hay mats that Zelda and I had laboriously scattered, almost as if we had agreed. We looked at each other simultaneously and smiled at the cheeky behaviour of our animal companions.

While I knelt down next to Altay, I asked Zelda to sit down next to me, between both of our horses. I dried and cleaned Altay's coat as much as I could with a scrap of cloth, while Zelda took off her mare Himawari's saddle and groomed her. It was quiet yet comfortable between us. We heard only the pounding rain hitting the wooden façade and the sleepy breathing of our horses. Even though the unpleasant wet cold came in through the lack of a door, I felt myself getting toasty warm. I turned my head to Zelda to make sure she was warming up. Leaning against Himawari, she zapped through the Sheikah Stone, ignoring her reddened fingers. Sighing, I put down my master sword and shield, took off my hood and tunic and laid both on the ground to dry. As I thought about building a small fire, I felt her gaze on the back of my neck. She stared at me with her mouth slightly open while I looked at her questioningly.

But then I realised that she was looking at me somewhat absent-mindedly and she was looking through me, to a time that had long since passed. 'Did the scars on my body, trigger the memory of the day of my defeat?'

Carefully, I touched her on the shoulder. "'Zelda, I am here, I am alive and it is because of you. Please come back to me. Zelda!"

She blinked hard, pushing tears from her eyes.

"Link? Oh, by Hylia, I'm so glad you're alive!" she trilled between tears and a relieved laugh as she fell around my arms, throwing me onto my back with them.

I hardly dared move, my arms hovering discreetly over her back as she snuggled closer and closer to me, hiding her face against my neck. I shouldn't think about how it felt for me, no, I wasn't allowed to think about it. But I could not deny that I was deeply relaxed at that moment.

Relieved, she sighed against my neck and looked up into my eyes. At first she looked at me contentedly and even played with the strands of my hair, but suddenly this veil before her eyes disappeared and the expression in them became clear, like a cloudless sky.

She startled to her feet, fell to the side and held a hand in front of her sensuous mouth.

"Link! I'm sorry... I... I don't even know why I did that!"

Slowly, I sat up and run a hand through my hair, troubled. From the looks of it, her soul still couldn't distinguish what time she was in, due to the hundred year seal and the loss of space and time. I just knew I had to help her break out of this darkness, as I had promised in my vision. I let out a loud sigh and gave her a soft, honest smile.

"It's okay. Whenever you need my warmth, don't hold back." I slid close to Altay and leaned my back against him. He lifted his heavy head briefly and looked at me sleepily, but when I stroked his face he settled back to sleep. I turned my attention back to Zelda, who still looked confused.

Then I took the initiative and tapped my chest to show her that she could lean against me.

Slightly uncertain, she joined me and tentatively rested her head on my chest.

"It feels like a miracle to hear your strong heart beating in your chest. The last time I heard it, you were... you...." she whispered weakly. Just the thought of the word 'dying' caused her tremendous grief.

I felt that she was no longer herself; more fragile, more sensitive and full of sorrow. Her soul was shattered, and it hurt in every inch of my body. I felt her shoulders begin to shake, again struggling with her heart.

It had only been two days since her rescue from Gannon's clutches and yet she expected far too much of herself.

I pulled her onto my lap and tenderly lifted her face with one finger, I leaned my forehead against hers and sighed. At last, I was no longer bound by an oath.

With my fingertips on her chin, I stroked her soft, pure skin, her jaw, her cheeks, eyes, nose and finally I stopped at her lips. She relaxed noticeably and leaned closer to me.

"Whatever darkness you are in, however dangerous and hopeless, I will follow you there and save you," I breathed against her lips. My heart pounded and my breath trembled, I wanted to take away her pain, to help her heal. One last time I looked into her emerald green tortured eyes and closed the gap to her soft lips with mine.

I kissed her with the thirst of a desert wanderer who finally found water and the tenderness of snowflakes touching the ground.

Zelda interrupted our kiss; shaky breathing, she whispered my name.

It was all I could hear, nor did the drumming of the rain on the roofs reach me, nor the soft snoring of our horses, only her breath whispering, I once vowed the same words in the sacred spring of power.

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matrixreimagined · 3 years

Text

The Dream Chronicles Chapter Five

A03 Link

It was warm when she woke.

How odd, Trinity mused to herself.

Mornings on the Neb often had her shivering. Just as the main lights would shut down, leaving only small safety beacons throughout the ship, the heat was automatically lowered through the nighttime hours. Something about sleeping better in the cold.

She understood the principle but thought the line needed to be drawn before they could see their breaths in the air. Unfortunately, that wasn't how Deadbolt saw it.

Trinity exhaled. Sure enough, her warm breath floated in the cold air. Yet beneath the heavy blankets that cocooned her, she was comfortable. Not shivering, not desperately trying to nestle down and pull her knees up to keep her body tight and compact. For the first time in a long time, she was comfortable.

Something behind her shifted and the blankets surrounding her tightened. No, not just blankets. The heavy weights pressed against her back and draped over her waist were not just the tattered blankets that had seen better days before the surviving humans had hid underground.

Trinity turned her head. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Neo watching her.

"Good morning," he said softly.

The night rushed back to her. Going to bed early to catch up on sleep, only to be woken by a crash and shouting.

Talking with Neo.

Morpheus giving his speech.

Then Neo annihilating the jump test, before telling Tank he was tired. Going off on his own, ending up in her bed.

"Morning." She blinked a few times as she fought a yawn, letting the haziness of morning begin to fade. "How long have you been awake?"

"On and off throughout the night."

She rolled onto her other side, Neo lifting his arm and leg just a bit so that she could settle facing him. When she stilled, his hand draped around her again, tracing tiny patterns on her back.

And because she could sense there was more to it than that, she said, "Tell me."

"It's… hard. To know that this is real. Every time I went to sleep, I was terrified that you wouldn't be here. I'd dream of you and wake up, almost expecting to be in my apartment. Like a dream within a dream."

His voice was heavy with emotion and it weighed her down. He couldn't trust what was real yet and she didn't know how to make that better.

"Never again," she promised, surprised at the vehemence in her words.

"Every time I woke up," Neo said, smiling, "was like a miracle. You're still here. In my arms."

Unable to resist, Trinity lifted her head off of his arm and craned her neck to kiss him.

His lips were warm and soft. A hint of stubble was growing on his face and she made a mental note to get him a razor. The hair on his head was still short and thin but was growing every day.

Neo pulled her tighter to him, their bodies aligning even as they parted. He was holding her like he had in the medbay. Like a lifeline.

He kissed her forehead tenderly.

A soft kiss to the head had no business feeling so damn good.

In the distance, she could hear the others moving around. Boots on metal and the grinding of doors being opened.

They didn't have much time.

As if Neo could read her thoughts, he asked, "What happens today?"

Truthfully, she wasn't entirely sure. Usually they gave new recruits a day or so to get used to their surroundings before starting to train them, but she had the feeling that Neo would want to push forward immediately.

"That will depend on what you're up for."

His face twitched. "I think I'm up for anything. I"—he hesitated—"I don't want to waste time."

She nodded in understanding. She couldn't blame him there.

"Then training," she replied, "physical in the morning, with Apoc. Your body recognizes movements but you're still weaker than you used to be. Then, after you break for lunch, I'll have Tank run some operational programs as well as combat training. I want to make sure the gaps in your knowledge are filled before Morpheus truly begins with you."

"Probably for the best," he determined, reaching up to run a finger along her face, "although I can think of a few better ways to spend the day."

"I'm sure you could," Trinity said with a smirk. "Unfortunately, the others will notice if we don't arrive at breakfast. And if we wish to not be interrupted, it might be best to circumvent the possibility."

"Always interrupted," he murmured, kissing her lips softly. "I will get you alone one of these days."

"I'll look forward to it." She gave a final peck and rolled out of the bed. Neo followed suit with a groan.

Neo walked over to the bureau and opened the drawer that contained her yarn. She raised an eyebrow.

"My things aren't here," he said conversationally. "This… this is where my shirts were. I-- I'm having trouble distinguishing real from my dreams and my dreams from the Matrix. I keep forgetting that this is not the place I've been to a thousand times before."

Neo looked at her sheepishly, almost apologetically. "This isn't my room in your world."

"No," she agreed, "but make no mistake, I could have easily kicked you out had I wanted to."

"But that doesn't make up for the fact I seem to be invading your space at every turn." He tried to run a hand through his hair, but he was unused to it being so short. He laughed, humorlessly. "I'm sorry."

"It's an adjustment," Trinity said. "To both of us. I will be patient with you for not understanding this world if you are patient with me and understand that I don't know all that you do."

He nodded, still looking distraught.

She wanted to fix it all, to make things better but she didn't even know how to begin.

"Thank you. Just… don't be afraid to remind me where I am. I feel like I see you, and I start to forget that there is a difference between my not-memories and where we are right now. The last thing I want to do is scare you or…"

Trinity closed the distance between them and reached up to cup his cheek. She angled his head, forcing him to look at her. "Do I look scared to you?"

He soaked in the sight for a moment before shaking his head.

"I don't understand all of this," she admitted. "And I won't lie to you—I was scared at first. But I'm not afraid anymore."

At least, she qualified to herself, not of you.

There were still so many factors, so many moving parts to all that was happening. Aside from finding the One, an accomplishment in itself, they now had to figure out how to deal with his dreams and the Oracle and a nosy crew.

But all the fear that had been racing through her veins for weeks on end disappeared with his kiss.

"And someday,"' she added, "I'd like to hear about these memories."

Neo smiled and stepped into her space. "I think that can be arranged."

Trinity found herself smiling back. She let her other hand wander up to rest on Neo's back. She looked up, and he easily bent down and kissed her. The hand on his cheek migrated to wind tself around his neck.

She groaned as Neo deepened the kiss.

He stepped forward, carefully walking her backwards towards the door, stopping only when her back hit the solid wall. It was cold, even through her shirt, but Neo… he was so warm, so real. She could feel each inhale and exhale between kisses. Hands slipped, caressing her sides, holding her to him.

It was unfair, she thought, that he already knew her body so well. That he knew where to slide his mouth as he kissed at her skin, finding his way to her throat. His hands were on her hips, then. Pulling her towards him as he leaned forwards. Chest to chest, hip to hip, it was not enough.

Neo nipped at her throat before sucking on her pulse point. Her fingers held his head against her neck as she openly moaned, shifting against him in a desperate attempt to relieve some of the tension between her legs. His teeth scraped along her collarbone as he moved the fabric covering her torso to the side.

She caught his face in her hands and pulled him back up to her mouth. She couldn't decide if she wanted to devour him or to be devoured.

"Neo," she breathed, as they both paused for air, cheek to cheek, panting in tandem.

"Trin."

"We really…"

He kissed her again, soft and slow.

Then he exhaled. "I know. We need to go," Neo surmised.

"There's time."

Even a lifetime would never be enough, he knew. But they would have the nights, and the days when they reached Zion. For now, though, they had responsibilities. She was still second-in-command of the Neb, truthfully in charge of more than Morpheus. He needed to share her with the rest of the crew even if the thought left an unpleasant taste in his mouth.

"Breakfast?" Neo asked, impressed with his own ability to step away.

"Breakfast," she confirmed, even as her cheeks remained flushed. She pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

I love you. The words almost tumbled from his mouth before he stopped them. He was uncertain if he had said them to her during his moments of consciousness after waking up in the pod. It was likely, he knew. But she was dealing with so much at once, his declaration might not be as welcome or as heartfelt as he wanted it to.

Instead, he entwined his hand with hers and opened the door to her room. Together, they walked down to the kitchen. Apoc, Dozer, and Tank were already there with breakfast.

Tank grinned at the sight of them. "Mornin'," he drawled in a teasing sort of tune.

"Morning," Trinity echoed, careful to keep her own tone even as she walked with Neo over to the cabinets. Again, they wordlessly separated the tasks: Trinity filled the bowls while Neo made two cups of tea.

Apoc and Dozer were watching Neo with an acute fascination as he went about his task.

Trinity couldn't blame them for staring as he prepared her tea perfectly, almost effortlessly. She had barely been able to stop herself from doing the same thing the night before. His ease on the Neb was uncanny, to say the least.

"Sleep well?" Tank asked as Trinity sat down, quirking his brow.

"Mm-hmm," she hummed, sitting down, purposefully not saying anything to confirm or deny what Tank practically knew: that Neo had spent the entire night in her bed.

"I found it a bit cold," he pressed. "Did you? Were either of you cold?"

Apoc was smirking into his mug and Dozer smacked his younger brother in the arm. "Ease off," he said.

"I'm just asking about the temperature!"

"You know, Tank," said Trinity casually, "if you're too cold at night I could look into some room changes. Perhaps you'd like to bunk with Cypher?"

"Cypher only has one bed in his room."

"I'm aware." Trinity took a sip of tea and Tank relented.

"All right, all right. I'll behave."

"Doubtful," said Dozer.

Trinity smiled before glancing to Apoc. "After breakfast, I want you to put him on a fast track regimen. Gauge where he's at and go from there. Then, after lunch," she turned to Tank, "I want basic operations and combat training run on him. First aid if there's time."

"Ma'am, yes ma'am." Tank saluted.

Apoc nodded. "Can do." He looked at Neo. "Not going to lie to you, man, your body is not going to be ready for what you're about to go through, but it will help you adjust. I suggest you eat up."

Neo nodded with a grimace. He understood well enough the purpose of working out but it didn't mean he had to like it.

Switch stumbled in; eyes half lidded. "Who invented mornings?"

"No one. Like everything else, they're a social construct. Based upon a sun that no one has seen in more than a hundred years." Apoc moved down a bit making room for Switch at the end of the table. "You sleep okay?"

"Never."

"Ain't that the truth," said Dozer. "I never sleep good away from home."

Neo felt his heart clench at the half-memory of Zion. Home. More so than the Matrix had ever been. He was never happier than when he was in their little apartment, locked away from the rest of all the worlds.

Would it be the same in this reality? Trinity had been exceedingly patient with him as he adjusted but that was not a guarantee that she would keep him with her in Zion. Still, he had no memory of a home outside of the one with her. He hoped that was a good sign.

"Miss the warmth," said Switch, "miss my bed. God help me, I even miss Sparks."

Neo felt himself smile at that, adding, "Careful, you don't want to make Tank jealous."

The words escaped him like they would have in his dream world then reminded him of exactly where he was as the room grew silent. The only sound was the whirring of the ship. In his dream world, everyone would have laughed good-naturedly but here… he was just a newly woken red-pill that knew far more than anyone dared ask.

Apoc broke the silence and tension. "Huh. You're going to have to meet Sparks twice. It was hard enough doing it once for me."

"I don't…" Neo struggled with the words. "I don't remember meeting him in the dreams I had. He was just kind of there. I don't really remember meeting anyone, except Trin. I just, I don't know, knew who everyone was?"

He couldn't explain it. Years and years of dreams gave him insight to details he couldn't even fully recall. Some dreams, like the ones in the club with Trinity, happened so often he could recite them word for word. And others, like some in Zion, felt more like distant memories that disappeared the harder he tried to focus on them.

"Who else do you know?" Dozer asked curiously.

Neo shrugged a shoulder. "I know Cass. I know your kids. I know Zee and Link."

Link, he thought. Link was the Operator. But Tank was the Operator?

"I know Link really well, actually."

"Really?" asked Dozer, surprise resonating in his voice.

Neo nodded. "Yeah. Sometimes, he's here. On the Neb."

"On the Neb doing what?" Tank asked.

"Operating." Neo said, trying to recall the dream memories. "There are times when it's you. And times when it's Link."

"Link on the Neb?" Tank raised an eyebrow. "Zee would kill him. And where was I if Link was operating?"

Neo blinked, trying to piece together his memories. Link was there in his mind, but Tank wasn't. Neither was Dozer. His only memories with Link on the Neb involved Trinity, and a few with Morpheus. He thought back, trying to remember more.

"I don't know," he answered honestly, aware that everyone was staring at him. "When Link is here, you're not but there is a lot I don't remember. Some things that don't fit together right. Gaps that are missing."

"And based on what you said yesterday, neither Tank nor Link would be in about eighty percent of your dreams." Switch was smirking and Neo was exceedingly grateful that they broke the tension.

"You're having way too much fun with this," Neo said dryly.

"I really am."

"What does that mean?" Dozer asked. "That Tank and Link aren't in eighty percent of your dreams?"

"Oh, none of us are." Switch raised a brow while looking pointedly at Trinity. "It means Trinity has exclusive rights to those dreams. If you know what I mean."

Apoc choked on his goop.

Dozer gave him a hearty slap on the back. "Christ, Switch, you trying to kill him?"

Tank looked back and forth from Neo and Trinity to Switch. "Are you saying that eighty percent of those dreams that have given you insight to our lives and world were dirty dreams?"

Trinity glared half-heartedly at Switch. "Thanks for sharing that with half the crew."

"Oh my god!" Tank said, leaning forward. "Can I please be the one to tell Sparks?"

Apoc downed his water. "Neo, finish up so I can get the fuck out of this room before Tank or Switch loses it."

"Gladly." Neo started to eat a bit faster.

"No, I got more questions!" said Tank, "You guys get to see the Oracle—this is the closest I'll ever come to learning the future."

"We can't be sure what he knows is the future." Trinity pointed out. "Think about the club—there were multiple scenarios that he recognized being played through. His visions were not strictly of the future."

"But a lot of what he's seen is true. You said he knew the book you keep on your bedside table, for fuck's sake."

"It still does not indicate the future."

"But it does show that he knows things."

"I know very little," Neo said between bites. "I wouldn't stake my life on half of it."

"And yet you remember your training."

"But I don't remember being trained," he countered.

"In Zion, what's your apartment number?"

"Floor 44, apartment 31." The answer came automatically, flying from his lips before he had time to process. He blinked in surprise, not really sure where the answer had come from.

Trinity flushed red as he revealed her apartment number.

Tank grinned at Trinity. "At least he's consistent."

Trinity flipped him off as Tank fired another question. "What's the best bar in Zion?"

"Cain's."

"Who leads the Council?"

"Dillard."

He blinked again. Dillard was right but he was having trouble finding a face in his mind to match. Peculiar…

"We get it, Tank," Trinity cut in, giving Neo a chance to return to his food. "But there will be time for questions later. Let's not interrogate over breakfast."

"Oh, but we all have so many questions," said Cypher walking into the kitchen, "like how the hell you were able to fly in the construct. It was built with parameters, one of which is gravity." Cypher didn't bother to go for breakfast, instead sitting at the table on the opposite side of Neo. "That's what got me curious."

"I'm sure we'd all like to know," said Apoc, standing from the table and bringing his dish over to the sink. "But later. Right now, we have training to do."

"Right," said Neo, pushing up from the table.

Trinity mouthed a quick 'thank you' to Apoc as Neo also tossed his bowl in the sink. Apoc nodded once before heading for the door.

Neo followed, murmuring, "I'll see you later," as he stopped briefly to bend down and give Trinity a kiss.

Trinity grinned, lightly pushing his shoulder back. "Go."

His hand traced across her back as he walked by, following Apoc out the door.

"Kissing at the breakfast table?" Cypher asked Trinity with a raised brow. "My, he does work fast."

"That's nothing!" said Tank. "They're already sharing a room."

"What!" Switch's head shot up from their food, looking frantically between Tank and Trinity. "What? When did that happen? How do I not know this?"

"Recent development," Tank informed them casually. "But Cypher is right, Neo ain't wasting any time."

"Our past isn't exactly conventional."

"You don't have a past. Not a real one, anyway," he pointed out not unkindly.

"I'm sorry," said Switch, head going back and forth, "we need to go back. You two are sharing a room? Like, your room? Like, your room with one bed?"

Trinity smirked at Tank. "Doesn't seem like that hard of a concept to grasp."

"Oh my god," Switch said, pounding a fist on the table. "I take it back. This is the best day of my life. Have you fucked yet?"

"Switch!" Trinity said sharply as Dozer tried to cover a snort with a burst of coughs.

"It's a valid question!"

"And it's also none of your business. I don't ask you about your sex life."

"I wouldn't mind if you did," Switch shot back. "Bonding is important amongst a crew."

"Yeah, Trin," said Cypher, "bond with us."

"You're all disgusting," Trinity said, standing up from the table. "I can't stand any of you."

Tank nodded before looking at his brother to say, "I bet that's why she got Neo."

"Jesus Christ"—Trin tossed her dishes into the sink—"this can't be the most interesting thing in your lives right now."

"The fuck it isn't! We may have found the One and the One has weird dream-memories about boning you. Tell me one thing in your life that is more interesting than this!"

"I'm leaving now."

"I will find you!" Switch screamed after her. "I know where you sleep!"

"And where Neo sleeps," she heard Tank add.

Trinity resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Even still, she couldn't help the smile that spread across her face.

#the matrix #the matrix fanfiction #trinity #neo #trinity x neo #neo the matrix #trinity the matrix #the matrix has queue #i posted this on a03 and forgot to post it here #whoops #the matrix fanfic #the matrix dream chronicles

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lovehugsandcandy · 4 years

Text

One-on-One (ColtxMC, n*fw)

A/N: So the incomparable @omgjasminesimone has been keeping us FED rn (thank you, you are AMAZING) and then I saw there was a ColtxMC prompt she couldn’t fill (and I completely understand why) and...well....I hate to see my Colt stans go hungry. This is the AU scenario for “I’m a cheerleader, and you play basketball for the rival school. We’ve never spoken, but when you smile and wink at me like that I have a very hard time remembering not to cheer for you.” Anon, this is n*fw but, if that’s not your thing, lmk and I can easily cut that part out.

Length: ~3,500 words (why can’t I write something short, why why why?)

Rating: N*FW (Sex. Swearing. Fighting. Blood. Stupidity.)

Pairing: Colt x MC, RoD

Summary: Ellie cheers for the Langston basketball team, wholly focused on supporting them....right?

“I’ll be right back, I swear.”

“I can’t believe you-” The swinging doors cut Ingrid off as Ellie hustled out of the Langston basketball court. They had thirty minutes until the game started; the least she could do was get some studying done.

The opposing team filed past her as she rushed by, fresh off the bus and heading to their locker room. A few of the guys gave her the eye-God, she hated how short these skirts were- but she ignored them, ducking into the tiny room the Langston cheerleaders had commandeered as their own, quickly nabbing her textbook from her locker.

When she emerged, chiding herself to return the book clutched to her chest before the game began, the hallway was empty except for one lone player, slowly making his way up the hall, eyes glued to his phone. The basketball jersey revealed very toned arms, but he didn’t even see her until he almost walked into her.

“Excuse you.” He looked up and Ellie froze as intense eyes widened above sculpted cheekbones. Her heart beat faster as he sized her up, smirking. “Quantum Mechanics. Really.”

“What?” Her eyes narrowed. Well, he was cute...before he spoke. “You think cheerleaders are all dumb or something?”

“You said it, sweetheart, not me.”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean, your sport is clapping for other people while they do sports,” he scoffed. “I’m not sure that intelligence-”

“I will have you know that cheerleading is physically demanding and mentally taxing.”

He raised his arms, palms up, placating her with a nod. “I’m not saying it isn’t. Christ, I’m not blind. I know how hard it is. I just think that, with all the talent and hard work, you all would realize that you’re capable of much more than sitting courtside.”

She opened her mouth and paused. It seemed like there was a backhanded compliment somewhere in there, but she was too taken aback to parse through the sass.

“Ha,” he taunted, “especially sitting courtside while we kick Langston’s ass.”

“Excuse me?” Her eyes narrowed. “That’s not gonna-”

“Oh, it’ll happen.”

“You so sure about it?”

“I am.” His eyes lingered on her face, stopping intently on her lips before pulling back up to meet her glare. “How about this?” He stepped closer and Ellie suddenly realized how alone they were. The hallway was completely deserted; the other players were in their locker rooms, the spectators were waiting for the first jump, and it was just her and this mysterious, challenging rival. “Let’s make a bet on it, then.”

“You’re on.”

“Ok…” He smiled, a slow widening of his lips; her stomach lurched. “If we win, you give me a kiss.”

“What?” she sputtered.“You’re not gonna win.”

“Oh, we will.”

She rolled her eyes. “Ok. Fine. And when Langston wins?”

“Then I give you a kiss.”

“What?!? No way! It sounds like you always win here.”

“Oh, no.” He stepped even closer to positively purr in her ear. “You always win. Cuz I’m gonna kiss you so good you forget your own name.” Her breath caught as his teeth slid down her earlobe and she had to stop her traitorous fingers from curving in the number on his jersey.

He stepped back with a smirk, and Ellie had to consciously force breath through suddenly dry lips. With a wink, he turned down the hallway; she had to wait for her heart to stop racing until her feet followed.

~~~~~

Ellie tried to ignore him, but it was practically impossible. She was supposed to be cheering for her own school, but the mysterious boy was omnipresent, all over the court and her thoughts. Every time their eyes met, he shot her a wink, whether he was sitting on the bench, jogging up-court after a layup, or once even mid-pass, flipping the ball behind a defender while his eyes were solely trained on her.

She couldn’t focus. She could barely pay attention to her own team when it felt like her eyes were searching for his every second.

The worst was during the halftime show, when his haughty gaze found hers mid-split. The quirk of his eyebrows and the way his eyes suggestively traced down her legs made it very clear exactly what he was thinking.

And if it wasn’t, the lascivious, exaggerated wink left no doubt.

Her face burned through the rest of the routine and she was grateful to slump to her seat, her roommate sliding next to her.

“Did Colt Kaneko just wink at you?”

Ellie took a giant gulp of water, stalling, as Ingrid’s suspicious eyes poured into her. “Who?”

“Who?!? Colt Kaneko, that’s who. He’s only the best point guard in the state.”

Ellie shrugged. She wasn’t blind; he obviously had talent. He was fast, weaving between defenders as if they were standing still. His passes were on target, and he shot a decent three. But his biggest talent, as far as she could tell, was his brain. He read the court well, seemingly able to project where a Langston player would sprint and then pass the ball a split-second before they arrived, leaving them flailing in midair. It was almost surgical, the way he presciently mapped the progression of the play before it occurred, as if he could read minds.

She was almost impressed.

His talents continued through the entire game until, eight minutes into the fourth period, the Langston center lunged hard, roughly fouling Colt at the arc; Ellie winced as they both went crashing down, shrill shriek of sneakers and thud of bodies on parquet audible even over the ref’s whistle.

“What the fuck?” Colt was up like a shot, on his feet and livid, the Langston center following, jerkily, gargantuan hands tucked into weighty fists. “What the fuck was that foul?”

“You got a problem, man?”

She sucked in a breath as the indistinct jawing turned into shoving. “Colt!” she shouted but it was lost in the jeering of the crowd. Their center had almost a foot on him; what the hell was he even thinking?

The ref raced over, whistle screaming shrilly in his mouth, but he wasn’t fast enough, The shoves turned into a full-on brawl, fists flying in a crowd of muscled bodies as more and more players joined in. She leapt to her feet but, in the rush of jerseys, it was hard to see exactly what was happening, both teams crowding around, obscuring her view of the fight at the center.

Finally, when the refs got the situation under control, her heart dropped. Colt was still furious, the blood streaming down his face not stopping him from a heated conversation with the ref, while the Langston center fared no better, hand covering a cut on his forehead while his split lip looked like it would need stitches.

They were both led away, ejected, Colt gesturing sharply the entire way. But right before they showed him the door, he looked back, eyes searching the crowd until they met hers. His face fell, and he had the sense to look ashamed for a moment before he was herded out the door.

~~~~~

Ellie’s leg bounced, nervously waiting for the final whistle. She kept cheering, pom-poms high in the air, but it was half-hearted. Langston was down by five and, with no fouls to give and no timeouts, the ending was basically locked up. Once the stopwatch clanged, groans roaring from the crowd as the Langston loss was official, she sprang to her feet, relieved that the game was finally over. With a weak goodbye to Ingrid thrown over her shoulder, she pushed through the crowd, heading away from exits, down the deserted halls towards the locker rooms.

A crowd of opposing players bounced by her, jauntily celebrating their victory, but she paid them no mind, turning the corner and stopping short as she spied a familiar figure reclining on a bench, long legs sprawled on the tile floor as he held a towel to his nose.

His eyes widened, and he stood as she approached. “You came...” His voice caught with wonder until a familiar smirk split his face. “I thought I lost my shot.”

“You are an idiot.”

“Hey! An idiot who kicked Langston’s ass.”

“What?!? You got ejected from the game! It devolved into a fistfight between two absolute morons!”

“We still won though.” He stood, blood-stained towel dabbing at his nose. “So where’s my kiss?”

Her jaw dropped. “Are you- urgh. Your nose is still bleeding. I’m not- Christ, come here.” She grabbed his bicep and pulled, fingers digging into the cut of solid muscle as she dragged him through the door of the visitor’s locker room.

“I’m not so sure you’re supposed to be in here.”

“Shut it.” She sped by the lockers to the bathroom, walking past the showers to grab some toilet paper. “Let me see.”

He stood dutifully still as she swiped at his nose, hand on his chin turning his face side-to-side as she assessed the bruising. The blood had stopped flowing, thankfully, a tiny stain of red under one nostril all that remained of his stupid brawl.

“You’re lucky it’s not broken,” she huffed

He shrugged. “Would have been worth it.”

He was so close to her, again, a wall of heat and muscle in front of her, looking down with a gleam in his eyes and a smirk on his lips.”You’d break your nose for a win?"

“Or for a kiss.”

She was beginning to hate that smirk...or hate how much she liked it. Rolling her eyes, she stepped forward, meeting his lips in the briefest of pecks. When she stepped back, his jaw dropped. “You really did it…” he wondered aloud.

She quirked a shoulder, turning to go. “Why not?” A hand on her arm stopped her and, in the next instant, his lips were on hers faster than she could process. Her previous quick kiss meant nothing. But this? God. His lips captured hers as if he had been waiting all game just to swallow the needy moans from her mouth. Her hands flew to his hair, silken strands tangling in her fingers as his palms wrapped around her hip bones, pulling her flush against him as his lips never left hers, tongue teasing the seam until her lips parted, making her brain short circuit.

He pulled back and her eyes fluttered open, breath coming fast. “Wait, what’s your name?” he asked.

“Uhh...Ellie?”

“Dammit. You still remember.” And with that, sturdy hands were pushing her against the wall so his lips could meet hers again, pulling the breath from her lungs before sliding up her jaw, down her neck, teasing bites and kisses making her tangle her hands in his jersey, pulling him closer. Grinding her hips, she felt his cock twitch and her head fell back against the wall, heat flaring up her spine.

“Colt?” Oh my God, her voice was weak, barely a whine, and she would have been embarrassed had his hands not been tracing winding paths up the back of her shirt, sliding between uniform and skin in a blazing trail of heat. She pulled again on his jersey, tucking her hands underneath to trace the sculpted muscles hiding beneath. “Colt, please?”

She almost complained at the loss of his mouth on her neck when he ducked away; but when she caught sight of him pulling his shirt over his head, the words caught in her mouth. He was all lean muscle, broad shoulders, cut abs, and her fingers twitched to trace down the v-shape that led into his shorts.

“Goddamn,” she murmured.

The haughty grin was back. “Like what you see?”

She didn’t answer, only pulled him closer to trail desperate fingertips past the elastic of his shorts, teasing at soft skin, and it was like a switch had been flipped. He yanked her shirt over her head, sports bra flying away next as his lips descended to suck a nipple into his mouth. Sneakers were next, kicked off as his teeth dug possessively into her stomach before going even lower, kneeling as his lips stopped at the waist of her cheer skirt.

“Fuck, I like this skirt,” he growled, palms running up her inner thigh. “I’m gonna fuck you in it next time.”

“Next time?” She could barely speak. Fuck, she could barely breathe. “What next time?”

“They’ll be a next time,” he vowed, and the smirk was back as he pulled, shucking every stitch off her and himself before he returned to the ground, tongue tracing a meandering path up her thighs as she shivered, pulling at his hair as his mouth edged closer, until finally, finally, his lips slid over sensitive skin, then through her folds, then zeroing in on her clit, gentle suction making her eyes fly shut.

Body quivering, her vision went dark as her nails dug sharp crescents into his shoulders. She tried to pull him closer, fingers moving with a mind of their own as his tongue found her clit and the room spun. Thank God he was holding her up, strong hands spread over her thighs, pressing her against the wall; she was inches from melting into the floor, his tongue flicking against where she was most sensitive and drawing designs that made her nerves sing in response. She was so focused on her peak, hurtling towards her like a freight train, that she almost didn’t hear the slamming of the locker room door.

“Kaneko? You still in here?”

She opened her eyes, struggling to get air in her lungs. “Shit! I’m not supposed to be-”

“I know, I know,” he whispered and stood, eyes frantically searching the room before he pulled her into a shower stall, quickly shoving the dingy curtain shut behind them.

“What are you-?”

“Shhh,” he hissed and turned the shower on, boxing her against the wall.

“He’s gonna-”

His hands were on her bare waist and she swallowed as he leaned against her. “Shhh, he’s not gonna come in here.” The water was falling behind him, a steady stream turning warmer and sluicing over the back of his head.

She put her hands through his wet hair and pulled him closer. “Fine,” she murmured into his mouth before finding his lips again.

“Kaneko, you in here?”

Colt pulled back and glared at the flimsy curtain, all that separated her from definite expulsion from the cheer team. “Yeah, Coach,” he called, “I’m in the shower.”

The footsteps got closer. “Uh oh. He’s gonna see my feet,” Ellie hissed, peering through the steam starting to fill the stall. She couldn’t see anyone but there was movement, steadily getting closer, and her fingers tensed into his sides.

He stared at her, question in his eyes, hands traveling to the back of her thighs.

She stared back for a beat before nodding. “Please. God, yes, please.”

His lip quirked and, before she knew it, he lifted, picking her up so her back hit the wall, her legs circled around his waist, and his cock slowly slide through her folds. She had to bite his shoulder to muffle the whimper from her mouth as his cock stretched her walls, back arching, legs tightening, every part of her pulling him even closer as he thrust..

“Fuck…” he growled in her ear, “you feel incredible.”

“What did you say?” the Coach shouted.

“I said,” Colt coughed, and it took him a second to compose his voice. “I said...let me finish my shower.”

The footsteps stopped. Ellie heard a weary sigh just outside the room; she didn’t dare to move, to breathe, though it was hard to stifle the sounds when Colt swiveled his hips in tiny circles. “The bus leaves in five minutes.”

“Five minutes?” Colt smirked at her and another pivot had her mouth falling open. “I mean, I hope I’m not that quick.”

“What? Just….just hurry the fuck up.” Thankfully, the steps receded until the locker room door slammed.

“That was close.” Colt breathed a sigh of relief. “I thought he would never leave.”

“Colt?”

“Yeah?”

“Just fuck me.”

“Demanding…” He rolled his hips again and her back pushed against him, wordlessly begging for more. The tile behind her was cool but she was burning, fire of his hands tight on her thighs, his lips tracing scorching lines down her jaw, flame engulfing every nerve endings. Even the water couldn’t cool her as it continued falling, soaking his hair, tiny rivulets dripping off his face and onto her chest; Colt followed each one with his tongue as his hips moved, demanding, pushing her back against the wall with each targeted thrust.

“Colt...oh my God, Colt, please!”

“I love how you moan my name, fuck.” He moved faster, and she clung to him. The rhythm of his hips was making needy sounds pour out of her mouth and, now, she didn’t have to be quiet. His name echoed off the bathroom tile, in a frenzied tone she had never heard leave her throat, and she dimly hoped that everyone else was far, far from the locker room hallway.

“Fuck, Ellie.” He moved, somehow balancing her against the wall while one hand slid down her stomach, then lower, thumb finding her clit. She keened. She couldn’t think, his cock driving inside her, his thumb keeping a steady frantic beat against her, it was all too much; all she could do was cling to his shoulders as he swiveled his hips just so and the world exploded, stars raining down where water had been, her body shaking so wildly that she almost missed Colt’s groan in her ear, strained and gruff as he pulsed inside her.

The world stopped spinning and was eventually, blessedly still. The only sound was the shower, water pattering against tile, and the soft breath, low in her ear. She felt drained, weak in the best way, and she let her head fall against the wall as Colt peeled off of her. Her legs were spasming when he lowered her to the ground; she had to clutch his shoulder with a tight fist before she regained the ability to move.

When her legs were able to support her weight, he stepped back into the spray of the water, shaking his head so water streamed in wild droplets from his hair before he pulled her under as well, folding muscular arms around her waist as the warm water poured through her hair.

“So…” he mused, running his hands down her back. “Quantum Physics? Really?”

“What is your problem?” She pushed at his shoulder. “Apparently cheerleaders can be smart too, you know.”

“Hey, no problem here. I like smart girls.”

“Then yes, Quantum Physics. I’m a Biomechanical Engineering major.”

“Damn. Sexy.”

Her head shot up, and it took a second to realize that he was being genuine, warmth in his eyes making her flush. She swallowed. “What’s your deal, then? Ingrid said you’re the best point guard in the state.”

He shrugged. “Is that your blond friend?”

“How did you….oh yeah. You watched me all freaking game.”

“I noticed you before that.” The tips of his ears reddened. Ellie blinked.

“What...what do you mean?”

“We played you earlier in the season, back home.” He shrugged, fixing his gaze on the knob as he turned the shower off. “All the other cheerleaders hung outside, flirting with the players. And you were studying on the bus.”

Ellie stared at his back as he pushed through the curtain “Wait a minute…” They had traveled upstate, earlier in the season, but she barely remembered the trip. She had spent the entire time cramming, spending every spare second with her nose in formulas and problem sets. “I had a big orgo test the next day.”

He shrugged, handing her a towel as she stepped out. “I scored 30 points, and you didn’t even look at me.”

“Maybe you need to do more than that to impress me.”

“Noted.” He held her gaze so long that she had to look away, fiddling with her skirt before sliding it over her hips.

“We should…” She tried not to blush but the way he was gawking at her, watching her put her uniform back on? It was a struggle. “We should go.”

“Yeah.” He nodded and tossed his towel in the hamper. As he passed by her, he muttered, “Damn shame though.” She chuckled ruefully as she watched him open a locker and dig out a change of clothes.

Once they were both as decent as possible, they headed back out into the hall, heading towards the entrance. She was cognizant that each step towards the door was a step closer to the end of this fling.

“You gonna be at nationals?” He shoved his hands in his pockets, biting his lip.

“Yeah, definitely.” Langston only had to win one more game to make it to the playoffs; with five games left in the season, it was a lock. “We’re gonna win it all this year.”

He pushed the door open, and they stepped into the blinding sun. “Really?”

“Even if I have to get on the court myself, we’re beating you.” His bus was waiting, the coach busy scribbling on a clipboard.

“Ha. A little one-on-one?” Gentle fingers circled her wrist, and he pulled her closer, smirk back on his face. “I could take you.”

“You sure about that?”

“Guess we’ll have to see.” He tilted her head up to capture her lips again; Ellie could dimly hear shouting coming from the bus but, with his fingers stroking up the back of her shirt to tease bare skin, it didn’t matter. Nothing did except his lips on hers and the roaring in her ears. “I’m gonna get in trouble for cavorting with the enemy.” He spoke against her mouth and she had to taste the smile on his lips, one last time.

“Especially if we win at Nationals.”

He squeezed her fingers between his own before walking over to the bus. She had just turned away when he called after her, “How ‘bout this?”

“What?” She stopped to look over her shoulder, taking in the laughing smirk and gleam in his eyes.

“I’ll see you at Nationals. And if we win, you owe me a kiss.”

Tags

Perma @desireepow-1986 @leelee10898 @emichelle @client-327 @choicesgremlin @brightpinkpeppercorn @thequeenofcronuts @lilyofchoices @choicesarehard

ROD @omgjasminesimone @mskaneko @lovemychoices @burnsoslow

Colt

@deimosensblog @alegria1580 @thefarrari @moonlit-girl-wonder @going-down-downtown@soniadotalves@jolietmaraud @flowerpowell@poeticscolt @zaira-oh-zaira @akrenich @sibella-plays-choices @maxwellsquidsuit @liamzigmichael4ever @octobereighth @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction

#playchoices fanfic #colt kaneko #colt x mc #n*fw #amy writes

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mor-beck-more-problems · 3 years

Text

Come Back to Haunt You || Morgan & Agnes

TIMING: This Evening

PARTIES: @mor-beck-more-problems & Agnes Bachman (written by @chloeinbetween)

SUMMARY: The past haunts; so does family. Agnes wants this time to be different.

CONTAINS: brief references to parental abuse

Morgan felt half ghost as she cleaned the kitchen. Her fingers slipped on everything she touched, cracking dishes without her noticing. It was the cotton fog of death, partially. But it was also the weight of the last few weeks on Morgan’s soul, which pulled on her as though she was coming unglued from her body. Maybe she would simply come out of her trance and find herself floating over her bed, phasing through her life, or what broken pieces passed for her life these days. Morgan shuddered. She didn’t feel pain the way the living did, but it still dwelled in her, trapped and hungry for ways out. Unwilling to run the risk of destroying the rest of her dishware, Morgan went outside to the pool and sank her feet in the water, watching the lights along the walls dance as she kicked her feet. She had centuries ahead of her of this, if she was lucky: more mortal bullshit, more loss, more suffering. Maybe if she hadn’t been so worn out from living with Constance’s curse, she wouldn’t feel so tired. But staring down at her warbled reflection, she couldn’t imagine these last few weeks not breaking anyone.

The evening wind rippled the water and Morgan’s reflection split in two. Or not quite. Morgan squinted closer before remembering she could look over her shoulder. “Agnes,” she breathed. “How are you here? I thought Blanche’s circle sent you back to Texas. Is everything okay?” Too much. Even Morgan couldn’t sit up with that. She gave her (great-great) grandmother as much of a smile as she could muster, relieved to see her face however sad it looked. “Why don’t you come sit, or...float, I guess. There’s plenty of room out here.”

Agnes hadn’t known it would be like this to cross these distances. Her space in Texas had been hers for decades. It held her like gravity once had, but after Morgan’s visit, she’d felt pulled in two directions. Maybe there was something more here than her restless in between that had lingered over the decades. It had not been easy, but she had made her way across the continent to here. It was almost as if White Crest had been calling her. Perhaps it was Constance. Perhaps it was Morgan herself. She hovered, looking over Morgan at their shared reflections. “I do not know if everything is okay.” She sat, slowly, looking over the pool. “I felt like I was needed here, with you…. And Constance. So I came.”

Morgan watched Agnes sit. This was the kind of nonsense she’d dreamed up as a lonely kid: a kind, magical woman showing up out of the blue and sitting next to her with no reasoning beyond ‘you needed me.’ No blame, no yelling, no guilt. Just someone who gave a shit about her enough to come. To try. If Morgan didn’t have so much experience with her own mental instability, she might have suspected she was imagining Agnes. She waited a second, still staring at her, tears welling up, and then she laughed. A sad one, heavy, ready to crack into sobs at any moment. “You just...came, huh?” She scrubbed her eyes, laughing still. “I’m sorry this is just...we didn’t get to talk much last time, so you don’t know that things were already bad for me, but somehow since then, it’s actually gotten worse.” She sniffled, smiling wryly. “And uh, you are the first family I’ve had show up for me without giving me any shit right off the bat. Ever. Even counting the live family that used to know me.” She didn’t want to think about Constance. She knew she was putting people at risk dragging her feet on this magic ‘source,’ but tracking down someone worth destroying felt easier said than done, and Morgan lacked the strength to do more than go through the motions and keep the people she had left it check most days. She tried to put her thoughts of the ritual aside. “Kinda sucks that we had to die to meet, but what can ya do?” She shrugged, trying to shake the bitter angst off of her, and gave Agnes a sincere, watery smile. “It’s good to see you, Agnes...grandma, whatever you want me to call you. Not sure if there’s anything you can do, but thank you.”

Carefully poised, Agnes only shifted a little in concern as she noticed the tears welling up in Morgan’s eyes just from her presence. It didn’t occur to her that she might be the cause until Morgan laughed just as suddenly. “Morgan?” She asked cautiously, too used to being a ghost to make any offer of physical affection. “Things have gotten worse? How do you mean? Has Constance done something else?” Agnes asked, looking around in the dark. Her heart ached at Morgan’s simple admission. For all the suffering Constance had caused, she had also done this: she had slowly turned Agnes’ family into canyons and cliff faces, hard and windworn to withstand their constant suffering. Sometimes, they had become cruel to survive the cruelty, and in the end it had still not served them.

“I am so sorry, Morgan. Agnes will do. I might be able to do something.” I need to be able to do something, Agnes didn’t say. She could neither stand by in ignorance as Constance tried to kill Morgan a second time, nor could she stand the thought of Constance being destroyed forever. There had to be something else, an option that only she could help with. Agnes was too coward to consider any other alternative. “If nothing else, I can listen.”

“Oh, no,” Morgan sighed. “I almost wish Constance had done something for the sake of distraction. If she’d been the one who’d been in charge of the last few weeks, I think I would actually stop having to convince people that I have a point about her.” She winced, remembering Agnes’ horror when she’d mentioned her plans during the seance. “Well, the ‘bad’ part before we met was a friend of mine dying really horribly, and my relationship falling apart, you know, after my closest friends decided they don’t really get what I’m trying to do with this...ritual thing. Which, apparently, requires a blood sacrifice. So that’s fun.” Morgan let out a shaky breath. “And now I just...feel so lost and tired. An amazing feeling, really, when you can’t sleep to save your life. I almost died once or twice, but that’s just White Crest for you. And I know the longer Constance is out there, the more dangerous she becomes, but I want to get this right. I don’t have much propping myself up right now, so I need to make sure this gets done right.” She smiled sadly at Agnes. “I know you don’t like it either. Maybe it’s hard, with how well you used to know her and how sorry you are about what happened. But I don’t think you deserve what she did to you. I don’t think any of us do. I’m just trying to balance what I can, you know?”

As Morgan spoke, her legs shifted slightly in the water, which in turn made tiny ripples, breaking up Agnes’s reflection as she looked down at the two of them. In so many ways, they looked alike, and were alike. Morgan’s heart was weary with isolation of her own design, but unlike Agnes she would not back down. It just wasn’t serving her any more than Agnes’s own choices had served her. The only comfort she could offer now was her company, and her quiet, patient listening as Morgan talked about it. “A blood sacrifice?” She echoed. “I’m so sorry. You should not have to carry so much in your life.” It was empty comfort, but it was all she had to give Morgan. “I have seen so much pain stemming from that fateful day. Perhaps you would understand why I might wish to avoid more.” Agnes sighed deeply, shifting closer to Morgan. She could not offer an arm of comfort around her. “I do not know that it is a question of deserve. I just wish for this all to end. I never wanted so many of you to suffer for my choices like this.” She hadn’t ever planned to have a bloodline to curse. She ought to have ended this a century ago, but then like now she had been permissive, letting others expectations and desires dictate her action. No, that wasn’t exactly true, was it? It was her own cowardice, over and over, that had lead them here. “What do you hope to find at the end of Constance’s suffering, Morgan?”

“Yep,” Morgan said, smirking humorlessly. “No pain, no gain. I guess that’s what I get for assuming that exorcisms were just like normal spells. The ‘source’ is pain, blood is traditional and best as far as I reckon. Live stuff. Honestly, this wouldn’t be such a problem if it wasn’t for Constance. The simplest and most elegant solution would be to bleed myself. I have a lifetime of awful shit to offer up. But the dead are beyond most magic. So, I need something else.” It would be easy, she supposed, to pluck someone off the street, or find out who had been most recently screamed for and rest in the knowledge that her unwitting volunteer wasn’t losing out on that much. But Morgan didn’t want to cause suffering arbitrarily. That’s what Constance had done when she took one moment out on generations of Bachmans after Agnes. It should be as intentional as the rest of the ritual. It had to be better than Constance.

Morgan listed to one side as Agnes spoke, aching to fall against her and be held. “You made a mistake, Agnes,” she mumbled. “Hurting people you love and making them feel like nothing…” She shook her head with bitter recognition. “Yeah, it breaks you, to be on the receiving end of that, or to do that without meaning to. I know. But it’s not something that warrants what she did. If you love someone…” You hang on or you let go, was what Morgan wanted to say. But she was still trying to figure that one out. Staying in limbo, where she could punish Deirdre or not, embrace her or not, was still safer than committing one way or the other. “...You don’t do what she did. It should stay between the two of you, and nothing more.” That much, she did believe. “And, you know, I met what was left of your mother. I get being scared of what she might do to you.” It ran in the family, apparently.

She thought long and hard about Agnes’ question, knowing that it was a rare opportunity to be understood, to make Agnes see what she was really up to. “I want it to end,” She sighed. “I want to banish some of this pain, to put it somewhere that’s not me. I already have so much now, she can afford to take on an hours’ worth of mine. She can do that much for me. And it…” Her voice caught. “It just feels so wrong, I get sick and disgusted thinking about it, it feels that wrong--to think about giving her what she took from me. I will never sleep. I will never have peace. I just...go. Maybe it makes me a bad person if you believe in those, but I will do this before I give her that kind of mercy. She’s made it so I spent my mortal life being crushed by her magic and I just can’t tell her ‘thanks, it’s okay!’ about it.” Morgan shrugged helplessly as her eyes filled with tears. She blinked them back as best she could, an effort at pride in front of the only family she had left who might like her.

Agnes had several lifetimes of experience of not speaking her mind. Even now, she held her tongue as Morgan spoke, keeping her thoughts tucked behind the layers of her clothes and her features. A lifetime of telling her parents what they wanted to hear, until she had said at a wedding she had barely wanted, yes in her bedroom, and then yes to her husband for the rest of her life. Yes to one child, then two. Yes to watching over them as they grew like saplings in a thornbush, destined to be crushed by Constance’s curse. Agnes was ever so good at watching the world go by without ever expressing her opinion. It was no new matter to listen to Morgan plan to set her whole world on fire. Hurting someone she deemed deserved to hurt so that she could inflict a worse hell onto someone else, losing every friend she had in this town to a cause that would bring an end to something that had tormented their family for centuries.

Exposed to Morgan’s bleeding heart, Agnes wondered if she had made the wrong choice. One reason to stay in Texas was that she didn’t have to see so viscerally the harm the curse Constance had caused. She’d been able to ignore her own culpability. That was not so as Morgan laid out the road map of her suffering, and what she had planned for Constance. “My mother is inconsequential, now.” Was all she had to say.

Perhaps it was that she had spent so much time looking the other way that her heart ached for Constance despite the last century. Agnes was still that romantic child, sneaking picnics in the forest and braiding Constance’s long, red locks. She could picture them walking along the streams when she looked in the ripples of the swimming pool, right next to the reflection of Morgan’s pallid skin. There was no way, any more, to prevent their deaths. It would be easier to look away. But there was perhaps something even more important for Agnes to protect. “I do not expect that you would be able to walk away. There is no forgiving her actions, no matter how much I loved her,” That much was true, “I worry that her destruction will also be yours. That in trying to bring about justice, you will taint some fundamental part of yourself that you will not get back in the rest of your centuries. Constance has taken so much from us, I do not want you to lose any other part of yourself. This blood sacrifice, especially, that frightens me. Shouldn’t that also stay between us?”

The way Agnes said the word love made Morgan’s heart ache. Agnes seemed more shadow than woman in ways that went beyond her incorporeal body. There was no wonder or surprise or excitement. In her kindness, dampened with sorrow, Morgan imagined that Agnes had seen all of this before. Or thought she had. Maybe she was so hollowed out because she’d been stuck on this cruel plane for so long, or maybe it was the guilt she couldn’t let go of, but she changed when she said that word. Morgan couldn’t decide if it gave her hope for eternity, or if it was just kind of awful that Constance still had such power over Agnes in death.

“I don’t even know what there is of me some days,” Morgan said, unable to indulge Agnes’ concern seriously. “You don’t have to worry. I’ve killed before. Not a lot, just people who were already trying to kill me. You know how some hunters are, or maybe not, but my point is--if I can just find someone that makes sense, it’ll be fine.” She didn’t know how she would go about that, still, but she shrugged as if it was nothing worth worrying about. She needed to keep up her confidence, and maybe it would get Agnes to believe in her more too. “Is that what we were to her, do you think? Sacrifices?” She asked. “Just logs to burn on her fire, over and over, til we’re just little white bits of coal and she needs another? See, that just sounds like another reason to do it. I’d bleed whoever in front of her if I could. To make sure she understands.” But without someone she loathed as much as Constance, that didn’t sound especially likely. She didn’t need to make a production of things, she just needed to get to the fucking finish line. Maybe finding the best way to do that could be her new anchor for a while; she certainly wanted it badly enough. “You don’t have to like this. I get being in love with someone just as fucked up as you are if not more. Just please don’t stop me, Agnes. You’re all the family I have and I would really appreciate it if you could just...not take this from me.” What did she have without it? What was there to do but accept she’d been screwed by a hateful ragweed of a girl and let her skip off into the sunset? Morgan couldn’t. There was enough of her life in pieces and she wouldn't let all her grief follow suit. Maybe if she did everything right, if she won, she’d feel a little stronger about facing the rest of what had broken, too. “Can you please give me that much?”

“That you have killed before in self defense is not reassuring,” Agnes replied, and briefly considered listing all the ways it caused concern, before assuming that that was also a lost cause. Morgan did not want to hear, and so it was easier not to speak. “I think… that is an apt metaphor. Her rage is almost consuming, and she has used other’s suffering to feed it. It is no way to spend one’s death. Nor one’s life.” Agnes added that last part delicately, her voice airy. If Morgan truly believed this would serve her, who was Agnes to stop her? She could offer her descendent this much, one more thing in her lifetimes of permitting things to happen. She smiled, her grief drawing deep lines in her face. It was no longer instinct to reach out to offer the comfort of touch when she had no comfort to offer, but she still hovered her hand over Morgan’s, looking deep in her eyes. “I swear it.”

Agnes said nothing of trying to stop Constance.

#wr agnes #wr chatzy #wr agnes chatzy #abuse tw #wickedswriting

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canyouhearthelight · 4 years

Text

The Miys, Ch. 89

Wee-oo-oooooooooooo!

I thought long and hard about this chapter before writing it, and it just felt like it fit more into the narrative. Will it raise questions later? Probably. Am I prepared to answer those questions? I’m pretty sure.

Thank you, @satan-parisienne for being such a lovely person to bounce ideas off of, and for being an amazing sister (real and fictional).

The following week was a fog of exhaustion and mind-numbing soreness. Tyche insisted on sparring each night, either with fencing or some other form of combat, while adamantly refusing to speak other than instructions and taunts regarding my form. Any stretching to relieve my over-worked body had to be done in the gym, at home, or in my office, as those were the only three places I was allowed for the time being. I didn’t even have the relief of walking to stretch my legs, since any time I spent in transit was seated on a transport with two escorts, one on either side.

Conor and Maverick were as patient with me as could be expected, but I could readily admit that I was in a sullen mood and would have done anything for some privacy. Eventually, they both told Tyche to come keep an eye on me herself, they both needed some space. Since she had been working me to the bone, not to mention was responsible for my ongoing rotation of guards, she was honestly the last person I wanted to see at the moment. The second she walked in the door, the feeling was clearly mutual - she wouldn’t even look at me, just stood staring at one of my plants, arms crossed.

“You couldn’t even bring Mac with you?” I glared.

“I haven’t seen him in two weeks,” she snarled back. “Pretty sure you scared him off with your crappy attitude.”

“Maybe it’s because I haven’t had five minutes to myself in the past fucking week,” I muttered, turning away from her. Stomping into the kitchen, I got two cups of coffee, set one on the end of the table closest to her with a thunk - being angry didn’t mean I was going to be rude - before flopping down in her favorite armchair.

The next hour was the most tense round of sipping my walls had ever seen. She surrendered first, standing to pace. “Where the hell are they? They didn’t say how long they would be gone.”

Before I could respond, a chirp came from the ceiling. “Human Conor and Human Maverick are at the Undine, playing a Terran game with needles and a target. They advised me when they left that they would return when both of you have categorized your defecation, although I am not entirely sure what that means.”

Against my will, a snort of laughter almost sprayed my coffee onto the deck. Tyche’s eyes tracked as she parsed what was just said, and I recognized her scowl as the one she used to keep from laughing. “I know for a fact that you have a better grasp of human euphemisms than that. You knew what they meant.”

“Simon has informed me that it is a standard Terran practice to diffuse tense situations with humor. Did I do it wrong?”

“We aren’t tense,” she argued.

“Tyche. There is currently less strain detected in the hull plating than there is in that room. Please re-evaluate your statement.”

She gaped like a fish at the remark, while I dissolved into breathless laughter. “Oh my gods, who taught you to say things like that?”

“Several humans on the Ark display a propensity for conversational rejoinders using wit. I find it very unique and pleasing.”

“I don’t care how witty you think you’re being, we don’t need to sort our shit out,” Tyche asserted airily.

It was my turn to gape. “You have me under house arrest! Don’t you think that needs to be addressed!?”

I was less than intimidated by the finger she pointed at me with, despite her gesturing like it was loaded. “First of all, it’s a protective detail, not house arrest. You’re free to go wherever you want, in a transport, with escorts.”

“How is that any - “

“Second of all,” she raised her voice to interrupt me. “Do you really think I have the authority to make that decision? Yeah, you’re my sister, and I love you, but you are also my boss, dork. Not the other way around.”

Every processor that I joked existed in my head stopped with a grinding screech. How fucking stupid am I? “You mean to tell me I could have just walked off at any point?”

“Pfffft. No.” Annnnnnd now she was looking at me like I was an idiot. “I mean, you can try. But the door won’t open.”

If I wasn’t already sitting down, I’d have fallen on my ass. It hurt itself in its confusion! Something supplied from the back of my head. “So. I’m not on house arrest, but I also can’t walk out that door by myself. You don’t have the authority to assign a protective detail to me, but you did assign a rotation of escorts… Ohhhhhhh.” Apparently ‘turning it off and back on again’ worked for mental processors, too. “I am under house arrest, or protective custody, or whatever, but it wasn’t your call.”

“Finally!” she threw her hands in the air and flopped elegantly across my couch.

“Which means it was someone on the Council. So Xiomara did this.”

An exhausted thumbs-up popped comically from the pile of scarves and sweaters formerly known as my sister.

“Why didn’t you just tell me that?” I demanded angrily, chucking a pillow where I thought her head was.

A muffled voice came from under the pillow. “I did manage to make sure you actually like and trust your escorts.”

“What do you mean my escorts? Who else’s… The entire Council?”

The thumb popped back up.

“And you couldn’t tell me.”

Second thumb.

“Why not?”

One hand dropped and the other flashed me a middle finger.

“Okay, can’t answer that either.” I thought for a minute. “Can’t as in, not supposed to, or can’t, as in you don’t know?”

Index finger. First one.

“Is there a penalty if you do tell me?”

Thumbs down.

“So, really, there’s not anything stopping you from telling me except you keeping your word,” I pointed out.

Thumbs down.

Wait, what?

“There is something other than your word keeping you from telling me, but it’s not a penalty.”

Thumbs up.

“You literally can’t tell me, can you?”

Thumb still up. That explained the twenty-questions game, and her terseness lately.

“Are you physically incapable of making the words go, or is something preventing the words from getting there once they go?”

Two fingers. Second option.

“What is Xiomara thinking!?” I blurted angrily. “This is over the line. She may have the authority to put the Council under watch for our safety, since Safety is her jurisdiction, but dinking around in your head!? She can’t do that!”

I glanced back at Tyche, her hand in a thumbs down. “Something I said was wrong.” Thumb up. “She doesn’t have the authority to go poking around in your head.”

Thumb stayed up.

“Who does?”

She flapped her hand. Apparently can’t tell me that either.

“Did they have your permission to do this?”

Tyche made a ‘sort of’ waver with her hand before giving a thumbs-up. At this point I wanted to scream in frustration.

Keeping my eyes on her hand, I started talking, playing a sort of hot and cold. “The only person who has the authority to poke around in your head is you…” Thumb up. “Unless you’re unconscious.” Thumb down. “So you were awake and aware, and gave permission…..” Sort of, yeah, again. “But someone suggested it…” Thumb up. “Was it Xiomara?” Thumb down. “Antoine?” Thumb down. “Was anyone else in the room?” Thumb down, to my relief.

Wait. Thumb down?

“This was your idea!?” I shrieked, resisting the urge to tackle her when she gave a thumbs up. “And you thought I was being an idiot!? Tyche, how could you do that!?”

She sat up, gasping for air. “I knew I would tell you at some point. I let it slip a dozen times, and you were so distracted you didn’t notice. So, since Antoine and Derek were clever enough to set up the proximity alerts for those of us who are triggered by random strangers touching us, I asked if whop could set it up so you couldn’t hear me, even if I did slip.”

Hang on. “Say that last part again, slower.”

“I asked if wherb could set it up so you couldn’t hear me, even if I did slip.”

“Oh my gods,” I whispered. “That’s why you haven’t been talking. It’s garbled when you say something I shouldn’t hear, isn’t it?”

She nodded and started talking. It sounded like someone speaking backwards, through a voice distorter, while underwater. “Tyche, it sounds like I’m having another stroke.”

She nodded, and made a ‘keep going’ gesture.

“It’s supposed to, isn’t it? Because even though the brain damage was fixed and I can hear fine now, I had hearing issues for so long that you knew I would brush it off and not think anything of it.”

She nodded again, lips pressed in a firm line. “Because I would notice not hearing you at all, or any noise replacing it, or anything like that. But I literally never noticed that my hearing was garbled again until I was looking for it. Which I wouldn’t, because I should be able to hear fine.”

“Yep,” she confirmed with a firm, final nod.

“Sneaky bitch,” I muttered. It was clever, I had to give her that. I thought back over the past week and all our interactions, trying to determine if any specific topics triggered the parts I couldn’t understand. I started at the day she punched me, and something stood out in screaming neon with alarm bells attached. “We. When you were chewing me out in the gym that day, you kept saying ‘we’. We were counting on Bjornson thinking I’m helpless. We thought we had the advantage.” I paused as one sentence stood out, even clearer and louder than the rest. “This time, he’s got more people than Arantxa did, but we thought we had the advantage…. Because we knew who they were, we knew what they thought…” I focused on her, and felt nothing but fear and confusion as I whispered. “Tyche, how do you know who they are and what they think? How deep into this did Xio drag you?”

She stared at me, wide-eyed and helpless as garbled words fell from her lips.

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#the miys #family #found family #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #aliens #sci fi #science fiction #original writing #apocalypse #earth is space australia #original sci fi #my writing

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propertyofnikkisthighs · 4 years

Text

Afraid Ch. 12

Warnings: Nightmare scene. Blood mention. Possible tw for that.

Taglist: @sparxx27, @kaitieskidmore1, @fandomshit6000, @leatherandheels. @madamsixx

“It’s called Braxton Hicks contractions” the doctor explained to a fresh off a panic attack Nikki who had just regained the color in his face.

“So what does this mean? Is the baby okay? Is he going to come prematurely?” Nikki asked his hand in mine squeezing slightly.

“The baby is perfectly fine, we are however worried about (y/n) blood pressure levels. They were high, which granted you were in a stressful situation, and we want to monitor that so we’re suggesting an appointment with your regular doctor next week to recheck your levels to assess if you need to be on bed rest for the remainder of your pregnancy.” He smiled softly closing my file in his hands.

“Any other questions?” He asks standing from his chair.

“Between now and the next appointment should she be taking it easy?” Nikki again speaks up before I can get a word out.

“For now maintain your normal routine until told otherwise.”

“And what about sex?” He blurts out.

“Nikki!” I smack him on the shoulder my face growing red.

“I was waiting for that question.” The doctor chuckles. “As long as you’re taking it easy, the baby is okay so it is safe to have sex. Also if you’re engaging in cunnalingus make sure to not blow air into her vaginal canal.”

“Jesus who’s blowing into there, it’s not an animal balloon.” Nikki shakes his head in disbelief and I feel my embarrassment growing.

“Thank you doctor for your time. I think we’re done here” I just want to be home in my bed with Nikki, Whiskey, and Alarik at this point. I get my things together and head to the waiting room while Nikki bothered the doctor with more questions relating to our sex life that I didn’t care to hear.

Tommy rushes up to me looking about just as shell shocked as Nikki had been and places both his hands on my belly.

“So you and the baby are okay? He’s not coming yet?” He asks worried his eyes bouncing from mine to my bump.

“Yes Tommy everything is fine. Yeesh.” I roll my eyes and look around the waiting room not seeing Vince. “Where’s Vince?” “Yeah Tommy you would think she’s having your kid.” Nikki surfaces chuckling and then getting a serious look on his face. “She’s not having your kid right?”

“Ew! No way!” Tommy and I say at the same time followed by “What do you mean ew?” also in unison.

Nikki tosses an arm around my shoulder chuckling while directing us out of the hospital.

“It just wouldn’t be the first time Tommy and I were eskimo brothers is all” He smirks.

“For our sake I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that to me.” I do however elbow his ribs a little for good measure. “And nobody answered me about Vince.”

“Oh yeah, he said he had some stuff to do so he called a cab and left.” Tommy shrugs hopping into the backseat of the jeep.

The ride home is about as quiet as it can be with Tommy talking the whole ride back to the house, but Nikki was not nearly as responsive. He kept squeezing my thigh and casting nervous glances at me that he would try to cover with a smile when I caught him. I know this episode had scared him, but the doctor said I was fine now and these kinds of contractions were normal. My hand rubbed across my stomach that seemed to expand every day and I felt our baby kick in response. Yeah, he was fine. A shit head just like his dad, but fine.

The sound of Nikki undressing to get into bed wakes me up and I glance at the clock near our bed which reads that it’s a little past three in the morning. His arms snake around my side and his hands come to rest on my stomach while he places soft kisses on my exposed shoulder blade. I sigh and turn my head to look over my shoulder at his small shows of affection. He was so different from the strung out Nikki I had met years ago.

“What?” His smile is crooked, and boyish, and I can’t help but place a small kiss against his lips.

“I just love you Nikki Sixx.” I hum getting comfortable again in bed.

“And I love you (y/n) Sixx” Nikki yawned pressing a soft kiss to the side of my head.

Nikki had taken to calling me by his last name over the course of the past few weeks despite us not being engaged or an engagement even being mentioned. I loved it, because it was sweet and showed that he really saw a forever future with me more than me just being the mother of his child. I also hated it because it filled me with a sense of dread that I just couldn’t put my finger on. Getting married would mean that there is more to lose if we were to end things between us. And I couldn’t afford to lose more than what was already at stake with us having a child together.

“I just don’t understand why you have to go back.” I pouted watching as Nikki packed a small suitcase to go back to touch some things up for the album. I was too far along in my pregnancy to fly and was still being monitored for high blood pressure.

“Babe it’s only for a few days.” He laughed at my mini temper tantrum and pressed a kiss to my hairline. “I will be back on new years eve so we will get to ring in the new year together.”

“You know as a recovering fuck up,” I began and Nikki collapsed to the floor in laughter which made me fall into a fit of giggles. “You know it’s hard when your old drinking holidays pass you up and you’re fat and pregnant.”

“Baby. You’re not fat.” Nikki cooed.

“Tell that to swollen ankles and stomach the size of a watermelon.” I emphasize my point by pointing to each body part I mentioned.

“Well when he is born that will all go to normal and you get a mini me out of the deal. I would say you’re winning more than losing”

“Oh well when you put it that way.” I roll my eyes.

“All you have to do is hold down the fort for a few days and I promise I’ll bring you a tape so you get first listen to the album you helped create.” He pinched at my cheek and I pressed a kiss to his wrist.

“That’s all I ask please”

Saying goodbye to Nikki at the airport was harder than I thought. I finally let tears stream down my face as I drove back home in silence. The house had never seemed so large and yet so small as it did when I walked into it alone. Somebody was always here, whether it was Nikki himself or the boys all here, it was never this quiet. I let myself wallow for a few more minutes before I decide it would be better to cuddle on the couch and watch tv with Whiskey than to cry.

The ringing of the house phone makes me jump awake. The living room is dimly lit from the tv playing in the background, but the house itself is dark. I still am trying to get my bearings and I hear the phone ring again. Slowly shuffling my way over to where the phone was hooked up in the kitchen.

“Hello?”

“Mrs. Sixx?” The voice on the other end says though everything sounds staticy.

“Um yes?” I don’t argue that I’m not actually Mrs. Sixx as I normally would. “This is the Toronto police.” My stomach falls into my feet, fearing Nikki relapsed and did something stupid.

“I’m sorry, but there was an accident with the plane. Nobody made it.”

The phone slips from my hands and I collapse to the floor. My hands are shaking and the sound of my tears hitting the tile is the only thing I can hear. Until I start screaming. I’m screaming and crying so violently I begin to gag and I can’t catch my breath. My stomach cramps and I’m vomiting on the kitchen floor. My baby boy is going to have to grow up without a father now. My stomach cramps again and I feel warmth rush down my legs. My water can’t be breaking now this is the worst time to come oh he is such his father’s son. I crawl on my hands and knees to the bathroom down the hall and use the counter to pull myself up and flick on the light. Red. Everything is red. My water didn’t break. This was blood. More blood than I had ever seen in my life.

“No no no no.” I scream. “This can’t be happening.”

I wake up in a cold sweat nearly tossing Alarik off of my legs from the sudden motion. I look around the living room and see the sun is just begining to set. I fling the cover off of me and examine my stomach and make sure no blood is around me. The phone rings and I’m hit with a wave of anxiety that my dream was a premonition. My mom used to say she would frequently dream of things happening to her before they would really happen. My hands are shaking as I take the phone off the hook and press it to my ear.

“H-Hello?”

“Hey baby we just made it to the hotel.” Nikki’s voice comes over the telephone and I had never felt so relieved in my life.

“Oh good. Good.” I breathe out.

“Are you okay? Is something wrong with the baby?” I can hear the panic in Nikki’s voice.

“I’m okay and baby is okay. I just had a nightmare is all and the phone woke me up.” I physically and mentally relax now that I’ve gotten to hear Nikki’s voice.

“Aww babe you’re having nightmares without me there?” I can practically see the smirk on his face even without him being in front of me.

“In my defense when was the last time I had to sleep alone, or be home alone?”

“If it makes you feel better I probably won’t be getting much sleep at all here.” His soft chuckle warms my heart and I’m glad to know I’m not the only one struggling with the distance.

“Hey maybe T-Bone will wanna snuggle since you’re both there without your women.” I joke.

“What makes you think we aren’t snuggling right now?” He ups the anti.

“I miss you already.” I whisper into the phone.

“I missed you the moment I stepped onto the plane. How am I going to survive without your soft snores in my ear?”

“With a good nights rest” I snort into the phone and his responding chuckle calms the remaining nerves I have from my horrible dream.

“Speaking of, I need to get some shut eye. Flights always make me-”

“Extremely tired. I know” I finish for him.

“Goodnight baby I’ll call when I have a free moment.”

“I love you Nikki Sixx.”

“I love you (y/n) Sixx.”

I hold on to the phone for a few minutes after the line goes dead as a reminder that my dream wasn’t real and Nikki was in fact safe at his hotel right now. I pinch my shoulder for good measure to make sure I really was awake this time and round the corner to see Alarik and Whiskey waiting at the top of the stairs for me. They follow me into the bedroom and stand at the end of the bed staring as I get into bed. I look over at the empty spot next to me that normally Nikki laid in and felt a twinge of sadness.

“Well I know Daddy says you’re not supposed to get in the bed, but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him huh?” I smile at my fuzzy companions and pat the bed signalling them to climb up and they oblige.

I sigh and snuggle deeper into my covers and get comfortable ready for sleep to take over my body.

But then the baby rolls onto my bladder.

#nikki sixx fanfic #nikki sixx fic #nikki sixx x reader #nikki sixx #motley crue fanfic #Motley Crue #possible tw for blood mention #afraid

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swearingintengwar · 4 years

Text

Alright, taking a dive into this whole Space Australia business...

(warning: this gets kinda dark! Specific content warnings in the tags)

Humans are tough.

They’re persistence predators, walking for days on end to tire out their prey. When their society developed to the point where hunting was less common, their impressive stamina turned to more frivolous ends. Capsaicin - yes, the neurotoxin - is a basic cooking spice for them. They’ll willingly endure extreme temperatures with only rudimentary protective gear, just because they like to play in snow. And that’s without even getting into skydiving and roller coasters and horror movies.

Their reputation as damn near unkillable was pretty much inevitable.

Then, stories started to go around.

Humans, now common on starship crews, secluding themselves. Emitting cries of pain despite being completely unharmed. Seeking companionship from inanimate objects and dangerous beasts.

Sometimes they are mysteriously wounded, and refuse to explain why.

The rest of the Kith, as the collective sapients of the galaxy have begun to call themselves, are baffled. What could be overwhelming humans, who rise like phoenixes from any hardship? They notice that many afflicted humans are shy about what’s troubling them, though, and conclude it would be rude to ask human advice on the subject.

It’s not until a ketian finds their human captain dead in her cabin, a note on her bedside table and a laser burn clean through her brow, that the Kith realize how badly they were wrong.

The note on Captain Alexis’s table speaks of how unhappy she was on the ship, of her stress and loneliness. She’s to be given a hero’s funeral, written down in history as a martyr whose sacrifice taught the Kith their mistakes, until her sister hears of the arrangements. “No,” she says. “There’s nothing heroic about this. My sister was a victim, not a martyr. Give her back to her family, let us say our goodbyes. Remember her with honor, but remember her as she was.” And she begins the strange keening pain-cry of humans, her eyes sparkling with tears in that way the Kith find strange and oddly beautiful - few other species shed tears - but know better than to comment on. “My sister wouldn’t have wanted a place in history, especially not one earned by your callousness.” She makes the strange gesture of aggression that humans sometimes make, a bit like their gesture of indication but with a different finger extended. The crew have seen it used in all manner of situations, from playful banter to outright rage.

This is outright rage.

As Alexis’s sister collects her body, the crew gathers to talk. The events of the death are incomprehensible to them. Al’ara, the ketian pilot who’d found the body, carefully examines the cabin. No signs anyone else was there. No signs of struggle.

Shyly, for fear of being rude, the crew decides to ask a human about the mysterious night, and it’s then that they realize just how deeply their mistakes ran.

Humans’ bodies are tough, sure, but their minds are fragile as frost.

At first, the crew is baffled. What species could possibly have the capacity for self-annihilation? Why had it not evolved out millenia ago?

The human keens. Their eyes sparkle. Senseless as it may seem, this is all too real.

Suddenly, her strange actions make so much more sense. The times she’d refused to work despite being in perfect health. Her exhaustion and listlessness that didn’t have any physical cause. The times the crew had heard keening from her cabin. Even the strangely tidy blade scars that sometimes peeked out from her sleeves.

Fragile as frost, indeed.

The crew are at a loss. They caused this, they had been too worried about offending their captain to take basic care of her. Al’ara plucks feathers from their wings, the ones Alexis had often compared to the blue jays from her homeworld, and spends hours in meditation, sitting with their guilt and grief, learning to exist again. The quiet chanskir medic whose name no one could quite pronounce paints his scales silver-blue in mourning, singing low warbling dirges. Natreyen, with all the concern for his honor characteristic of mikali raised in traditional societies, turns himself in as a murderer.

It’s Alexis’s sister, of all people, who intervenes. “No,” she says, “you aren’t a murderer. You didn’t know any better. You did the best you could.”

“Lydia?” he asks. “You were so angry before. Why are you defending me now?”

“Because there is a difference between acknowledging your mistakes and turning them into deliberate crime. And because I was blinded with my pain that day. My heart hurt from losing my sister.”

“Then if I can’t give myself up to the law, how am I to make up for the stain on my honor? Deliberately or not, I caused a life to be wasted.”

Lydia kneels to match his height. One of her hands cups his ridged cheek, a gesture he recognizes as one of affection. “Learn, Natreyen,” she says. “Learn how to do better next time.”

Natreyen is so stunned he can only bow deeply. Lydia has spared his life, given him the second chance so few mikali would ever consider.

Luckily, she knows how to make this official, make his people recognize his redemption instead of calling him a fugitive. She raises her hands above his head. “Natreyen, you have wasted a life, and debt must be paid,” she intones, in fluent Mikai, then places her hands on his back, lacing her fingers into the gaps in his carapace and scratching his soft skin. Gently, just enough to cause a slight prickle of pain. A token vengeance. “As the wronged, I declare before the Justicars of Honor that I am satisfied by this avenging. Go forth and improve yourself.”

Her hands unlace from his carapace, and the rite is complete. In the eyes of his kin, Natreyen’s soul is no longer burdened by killing.

He resolves to go forth and learn, as Lydia instructed him.

He begins by investigating what Lydia had meant by her heart hurting, by being blinded by pain. They’re uniquely human concepts; no other Kith species has phrases that quite match those. And so, dread settling in the pit of his abdomen, he decides to ask Lydia.

His fears are quickly relieved when she isn’t offended by the questions, and the answers turn out to be a bit more literal than he was expecting. Uniquely among the known Kith, humans can feel emotional responses as physical sensations, rather than having separate nerve reactions for mental and physical stimuli. When Alexis died, Lydia experienced her grief as physical pain, and that led her to lash out in anger instead of calming herself. This part, Natreyen understands. It’s difficult to think when you’re in pain.

The crew’s first attempts at making their ship human-friendly go poorly. Making sure humans couldn’t be around weapons unsupervised gets dismissed by Lydia as treating the symptoms instead of the problem. Painkillers, to keep humans levelheaded when distressed, would only cause more problems in the long run.

Finally, Natreyen realizes what he’s been doing wrong. The task isn’t to human-proof what’s already there, but to add things that were lacking. Human crew members would need shorter work hours and more mental stimulation. More variety in food would also help. Companionship would be a must, and Lydia recommends a few types of animal that many humans are good at caring for. Communication with social groupmates would be invaluable. A specialist in human psychology wouldn’t go amiss, either.

Sure, running a human-friendly ship would be more work, but most humans were happier in groups. A larger crew would be just another way of making the ship more hospitable to these strangely tough yet fragile Kith.

Several flights, five humans, two cats, and more shenanigans than Natreyen cared to remember later, everything seems to be going well.

Then he feels a sharp pain in his fetlock.

He looks down and sees that someone has attached a knife to one of the cleaning robots. Without a second thought, he removes the knife and pages the rest of the crew to ask how it had ended up there.

The humans are devastated to hear of the knife’s removal, claiming that Natreyen had “killed Stabby”. Apparently the idea of taping a knife to a cleaning robot had been a running joke on their planet since before they’d ever met the rest of the Kith, and in Stabby’s half hour of existence the humans had grown attached to him.

Natreyen remembers Lydia’s voice in the Chamber of Justice. I am satisfied by this avenging. Her nails on his back, pricks of pain without any true harm.

He gets an idea.

“Al’ara,” he asks, “would you fetch a butter knife from the mess hall?”

She flies off to get one, and he taps on a remote to recall the robot that had been turned into Stabby. It trundles up to his feet, waiting.

Al’ara returns with the knife, and Natreyen tapes it to the robot, exactly where its old knife had been. “Will this do?” he asks the humans.

Their cheers are enough of an answer. He taps the remote again, commanding the newly resurrected Stabby to return to cleaning. Everyone is satisfied, and he dismisses the meeting.

Little does he know, Stabby will one day be the general of the entire Kith fleet, at least as far as humans are concerned. Something about it gaining the rank of anyone it hit...

#space australia #self harm tw #suicide tw #my writing #stabby the roomba

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trashyswitch · 4 years

Text

Trapped

NIGHT 4: Michael is stuck in an animatronic suit, and forced to stay alive while Minireena’s crawl inside, and attempt (keyword: attempt) to kill him.

For LunaBruceYT.

Trapped. That’s how Michael felt right now. Figuratively, and literally. He had been shoved into a suit of some sort. It was snug, dark, and deathly quiet. He attempted to wiggle, but only moved an inch or two. That was it. He couldn’t wiggle out! He couldn’t even knock himself down! All he could really do, was move his head side to side.

Was he dead? Was he alive? he couldn’t answer. How could he answer his own fate, if he can barely see the world in front of him? The only thing he could slightly see, was a red flashing light in the back of the room. His whole body seemed to be trapped in something, which included a mask with large holes for his eyes. Wait a second...whole body? Snug and dark? Mask?

Oh god...

Is he in an animatronic suit?!

“Shh! Be still...and quiet...” A female voice told him.

It’s Baby’s voice. But, where was she? He couldn’t see her. All he could do, was listen closely to her voice.

“You’ve been sleeping for quite a while...I think they noticed that you never left the building last night.” Baby continued.

Wait, WHAT?! How long was he asleep?! Did he fall asleep here? What happened last night? Most importantly:

Did he miss last night’s episode of The Immortal and The Restless?! CRAP! HOW’S HE GONNA CATCH UP?!

“The cameras were searching for you. But they couldn’t find you...I have you hidden too well...” the female clown explained.

Okay, so that answered some things...Baby put him into this dark, claustrophobic mess...

“I kidnapped you.” Baby told him.

Michael’s heart dropped. Panic began to set in, as he began to understand:

This is how he’s gonna be spending-

[NIGHT 4]

Michael wiggled a little more in the suit. He needed to get out of here. If that meant making tons of noise, then so be it.

“Don’t be afraid. I’m not going to hurt you.” Baby reassured him.

Michael narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Sure...that’s ToTaLlY not something a serial killer would say! What’s she gonna say next? ‘I’m just gonna bash your brains in.’?

...Wait...Please don’t say that...

“I am only going to keep you for a little while.” Baby explained.

Michael let out a sigh of relief. He’s not gonna die today. That’s good.

“Try not to wiggle, though...” Baby warned. Michael slightly tensed at that. But, why? If there’s no one in the building, why stay still? It didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense so far...

“You’re inside something that came from my old Pizzeria.” Baby explained further.

Michael took a mental note to his ‘What’s going on?’ list.

“don’t think it was ever used...at least, not the way it was meant to be used...too dangerous...” Baby mentioned.

Now, what was THAT supposed to mean?! Did...Did someone have a bit too much fun in this thing?! Is there even a hole down there?! Oh God...did someone lose-

Ew...God, he hoped not...

“It’s just big enough for one person to fit inside...but just barely...”

So it IS a full suit! It’s a suit that barely fits him! No wonder he felt snug and claustrophobic...

“You’re in the scooping room.”

Michael raised an eyebrow at the odd name.

“Do you know why they call it they scooping room’? It’s because, dummy...this is the room where they use the scooper. I thought that would be obvious...” Baby explained.

Uh, did Baby just call him a Dummy? First of all, how dare she? Second of all, that explanation just created more questions! What’s a scooper?! Why is there an entire room dedicated to it? Is it an unknown animatronic? Or a machine of some kind? GET ON WITH IT, LADY!

“Isn’t that a fun name for something? ‘The scooper’...It sounds like something you would use for ice cream...or custard, or sprinkles...” Baby thought aloud.

Uh...ya, somewhat...

“It sounds like something you would want at your birthday party. To ensure that you get a heeping portion of every. Good. Thing.”

Ya...that line brought Michael back to a bit of his childhood...wanting to have endless amounts of ice cream, so he could satisfy himself in all that sugary goodness...good times...

“I wonder though, if you were a freshly opened pint of ice cream, how you would feel about something with that name...” Baby thought.

Michael couldn’t fathom it. He imagined the ice cream screaming in pain, as a big scooper ripped into its body, digging and scooping it out one by one. It was not a pretty thing to imagine...

“Thankfully, I don’t think a freshly opened pint of ice cream, feels anything at all.” Baby considered.

Thank god for that...Michael didn’t know if he was gonna be able to eat ice cream the same way again...

“Uh oh...It sounds like someone else is in the building. Shh!” Baby warned.

Michael’s eyes brightened. Someone could rescue him! He wanted to speak! He wanted to wiggle himself out of this metal trap! But, he couldn’t...he was too afraid to...

There were two people, talking to each other for about 30 seconds. It sounded like they were delivering a broken machine. An animatronic maybe? It sounded like he might’ve been right. After placing it inside the dark room, the two people walked out of there and let the squeaky door close on its own. Off went his chance of getting rescued...

Suddenly, some really loud automatic noises began echoing in the room. One of the sounds sounded like something hammering on metal, while the other noise sounded similar to a handheld drill. They were pretty loud; loud enough to bother Michael, but he couldn’t cover his ears. He just had to stand it. Pretty soon, a dark figure slid into view of the right eye hole. The inanimate figure kept on sliding to the left, on what could be assumed a conveyer belt, revealing itself to be...

Ballora? What was Ballora doing here? When did she break? How did she break?

As the lifeless animatronic’s head neared the end of the right eye hole and hid itself in front of the middle of the mask, the drilling noise started turning off and on. It would quiet down for a few seconds, and start back up again for that similar amount of time. The metal hammering sound stayed the same, hammering in an unpredictable pattern.

Within a couple seconds, Ballora’s face began appearing again in front of the left eye hole. It only got to the middle of the left eye hole, before the conveyor belt stopped, stopping Ballora in front of him. As a short rumbling sound started and ended in the background, Michael took the time to look at Ballora’s lifeless face. Her closed eyes with purple ‘eyeshadow’, the jewels on her forehead, her tiny nose, her lipstick-covered lips and her open mouth. The animatronic’s mouth seemed to include teeth, since Michael could see the teeth hiding behind Ballora’s lips.

“There’s something very important that I’ve learned how to do over time. Do you know what that is? How to pretend.” Baby spoke.

Michael stayed quiet as he listened.

“Do you ever play make believe? Pretend to be one way, when you are really the other?” Baby asked.

Michael quietly nodded. He knew how to do that. It was an easy skill. He’s been doing that since he was little. But...

How did Baby, a robot that was manually coded, know about playing pretend?

“It’s very important. Ballora never learns. But I do.” Baby spoke.

Michael decided it didn’t matter how baby did it. What matters, is that she can, and has gotten this far by using it.

“They think there is something wrong on the inside. The only thing that matters, is knowing how to pretend.” Baby explained.

Suddenly, a low beeping noise began beeping. It beeped for a few seconds, before stopping. Almost immediately after, a super loud metallic destructive noise could be heard! Michael watched with horror as Ballora got destroyed by something he couldn’t quite see.

Twice it attacked, causing pieces to go flying, and causing Ballora’s face pieces to fall in and out of place.

A third time the tool shoved itself into the animatronic. This one was a little less loud. Pieces hit the hard ground as the broken animatronic fell out of view. As Ballora’s broken and lifeless body slouched in front of him, a lit up eye of Ballora’s could be seen staring him down on the right side of the left eye hole.

Silence filled the room for a few moments. It was a relieving silence that allowed the man in the suit to process what just happened.

Ballora had just gotten destroyed by the scooper.

Soon, Baby broke the silence.

“I’ll open the face plates for you.” Baby told him.

Suddenly, the face plates over his head unlocked itself and opened up, revealing more of Ballora’s broken animatronic body and the dark room he was in.

“That way, they can find you on the cameras. Now: all you have to do, is wait.” Baby finished.

Michael took a moment to breath in some air that wasn’t mixed with the overwhelming smell of metal.

“I’d recommend that you keep the spring locks wound up. Your breathing and your heartbeat are causing them to come loose. You don’t want them to get too loose, trust me.” Baby instructed.

Spring locks? What spring locks? Michael looked around, and observed the nuts on the sides of the face mask, with the tiny white dots on them. They appeared to be turning loose. Michael began to wind them up as tight as they could, winding up one at a time with his fingers.

As Michael started to tighten the spring locks on the other side, he couldn’t help but notice a minireena climbing up beside his head. As he reached to tighten the top spring locks, he felt the need to physically do something to get it off. Baby told him to not wiggle. But, what else was he supposed to do? Get killed? That’s not happening. So, Michael waited for the Minireena to reach the top 2 spring locks, and wiggled the suit slightly. Thankfully, the Minireena slid down from the spot and onto the ground.

One down.

Michael continued to focus onto the spring locks. When he tightened the spring locks on the left side, he would move onto the right side and tighten those locks as well. Every time he tightened and moved onto the other side, his breathing would loosen the tightened locks. So, this made the job a never ending cycle.

Soon, a Minireena appeared on both sides of the suit! He followed his own previous advice by waiting for both minireena’s to reach the top, before wiggling a couple times to knock them off. It worked! Both minireena’s slid back down the side!

Unfortunately, he couldn’t knock off all the minireena’s...in front of him, a Minireena had began climbing itself into the suit, and began crawling around in there! Michael’s eyes widened as the small animatronic crawled around his chest, his middle, his arms and his upper legs, before crawling out of the open stomach area. It felt incredibly uncomfortable, but he was glad it was gone. His focus went back to the spring locks. Michael took some time to retighten the spring locks one by one. They were quite loosened by the time he had gained back his focus again.

It didn’t take long though, for another Minireena to start climbing into the suit. The feeling of the single Minireena climbing around in there was unbelievably distracting. But, despite that distraction, Michael was able to multitask and take care of both the spring locks and the Minireena’s on the side.

A few minutes later, Michael froze. The teenager watched in horror as four more Minireena‘s climbed into the suit! Michael quickly covered his mouth as all the minireena’s climbed around on his body like giant spiders crawling under clothing.

The feeling was so ticklish! Poor Michael couldn’t cope with the sensations! The giggles began to fill his lungs like a balloon. Michael, refusing to make a sound, tried to keep all the desperate giggles in his lungs for as long as he could. He was NOT dying tonight.

A couple minutes later, the minireena’s exited the suit. Michael let all the air out, and gasped for air as soon as he could. Though, the minireena’s weren’t done yet...they were just getting started...

Minireena’s began coming one after another. 3 became 5, which became 8! The line of minireena’s never ended! Every single minireena climbed around his upper body, tickling everywhere they walked! There was no longer room for a breathing break. Michael struggled immensely to keep his giggles in his lungs. But, his lungs were persistent and forceful to let the carbon dioxide out. Michael didn’t know how much longer he could take this...

Suddenly, Michael’s eyes shot open. One of the minireena’s found his left, exposed armpit! Michael let out a muffled whimper, as tears of mirth began to fill his eyes. He couldn’t cover his armpit. It was stuck outward to the side, in the suit’s arm! Only his right arm was free to tighten the spring locks!

Oh NOOO! THE SPRING LOCKS!

Michael slowly removed his right hand off his mouth, but quickly reached his right hand out to tighten the spring locks. They were completely loose! How did he not die?! Talk about a miracle...During Michael’s attempts to tighten up the spring locks, even more minireena’s began climbing into Michael’s suit! Michael’s body was beginning to break in slight ways. His whimpering returned a few times, his tears of mirth returned, and bits of air began leaving his lungs through titters. He was really close to losing this fight.

Was this how he was gonna die? Was Michael really gonna laugh to death? He didn’t want that! That would be such a stupid way to die! But, he can’t really change the inevitable...

Right as he was about to let go and accept his death, something amazing happened! The suit forcefully broke right open! The front half of the suit had broken open, causing Michael’s exhausted body to flop onto the hard floor.

When Michael’s body hit the hardwood below him, all the air he had kept inside his lungs had blasted right out of him. No laughs, no giggles in between, just a rapid breath of relief. As soon as Michael put air back into his lungs though, that was when leftover giggles began to spill out of his mouth uncontrollably. Thinking the mini ballerinas were finished with him, Michael took the spare time to clutch his stomach and let them out. Every single giggle that the man had kept locked up in his chest, could finally go free.

But, the puppets weren’t done with him yet! Not by a long shot! A couple minutes after Michael’s body had hit the floor, the puppets crawled out of the broken spring lock suit and quickly crawled over to Michael’s body. They continued crawling around on Michael, attempting to kill him by clawing wherever they could reach. What the minireena’s forgot however, was that their fingers were just little nubs with no sharpness to them. Their feet were very similar. This led their attempts to ‘claw’ and ‘kill’, to only tickle really badly.

Finally, with Michael out of the suit, he was no longer worried about keeping quiet. So, he let himself laugh.

“BAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHAHA! GEHEHEHEHEHET OHOHOHOHOFF MEHEHEHEHE! WHAHAHAHAT AHAHAHARE YOHOHOHOU DOHOHOHOHOIHIHIHING?!” Michael yelled through his laughter.

The little minireena’s stopped for a moment, and began childishly giggling in mischief. It seemed that they were still trying to kill Michael! or, they changed their mind and decided to tickle him instead. No matter what their choice actually was, the four minireena’s continued their clawing at the different spots. One of the minireena’s was digging into Michael’s abdominal muscles, while another minireena was attempting to claw down into Michael’s belly button. The third minireena had found his armpit again and began to dig there, while the last minireena had began clawing into his right side.

“NOOOOHOHOHOHOHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEHEHEHEHEASE STAHAHAHAHAHAP!” Michael begged the soulless minireena’s.

“Shh. Keep your voice down.” Baby spoke up, finally coming back to hear the commotion.

“BAHAHAHAHABYYY! HEHEHEHEHELP MEHEHEHEHEHE!” Michael begged frantically, as the minireena’s tickled the daylights out of him.

“Help you? How? Why are you laughing? What’s so funny?” Baby asked.

“THEHEHE- THE MINIREENAHAHAHA’S AHAHARE TIHIHIHICKLIHIHIHIHING MEHEHEHEHE!” Michael explained.

“...Oh? They’re tickling you?” Baby clarified.

“YEHEHEHEHEHES!” Michael replied.

Baby thought for a moment. “Hmm...Let me check...It looks like they’re being programmed to kill you. That’s strange.” Baby reacted.

“THEHEHEHEY’RE CLEHEHEHEARLY NOHOT- NOT THERE! NOHOHOHOHO! HAHAHAHAHAHA! NAHAHAHAHAT THEHEHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Michael screamed. One of the minireena’s had managed fo find a SUPER ticklish spot: his lower ribs! And, to make matters worse, a second minireena had joined the other and started pushing and clawing at the other side of his lower ribs. Now, Michael was screaming and laughing hysterically!

Meanwhile, Baby was trying to think of what to do. “I think I know how to help you. I will be right back.” Baby told him, before leaving Michael alone with the tickling minireena’s.

“DOHOHOHON’T LEHEHEHEHEAVE MEHEHEHEHE! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, DAHAHAHAMMIHIHIHIHIT!” Michael shouted through his hysterical laughter.

Despite what Michael pleaded for, Baby left him alone to find a way to hack the minireena’s.

Michael didn’t know how long he could last. He was growing exhausted from all the squirming, and was considering just giving up and laughing it out till they stopped. Tears of mirth had already been welling up in his eyes, causing his vision to grow somewhat blurry when he opened them. For the most past though, his eyes had been instinctively squeezed shut. Michael could feeling himself growing more and more insane from all the laughter.

Suddenly: something crazy happened! In a sudden turn of events, the minireena’s jolted and flopped onto the ground, lifeless! Michael continued laying on the ground, still letting out some giggles from the phantom touches still tickling him. He didn’t really think much of the animatronics at first. That was, until he felt one of the minireena’s flop onto his stomach. That was when Michael decided to open his eyes and observe the puppets in front of him. Sure enough, almost all of the minireena’s were laying on the ground, lifeless and tranced.

Michael picked up the minireena that laid on his stomach. It was surprisingly light, for an animatronic. Though, considering how small they were, it shouldn’t have been that surprising...it was like holding a heavy, dead-weighted toddler. It was weird, to be honest...

“Did they stop?” Baby asked him.

“Y-Yeah. They did. What did you do?” Michael asked back.

“I shut them down. They are unconscious now. They will stay that way for a while. I reset their settings to wake up at 6:30 am to dance for the children in the Ballora Gallery.” Baby explained.

“Thank you.” Michael said to the voice.

“You’re welcome.” Baby replied. “I’m going to leave now. The rescue team is almost here.” Baby added, before leaving him alone.

It didn’t take long for the rescue team to come barging into the scooping room with their tool bags, ready to get Michael out of there and to put the old animatronic suit back together...

T.S’s Note: So, I’m gonna be stuck in the house for 3 weeks straight. I’m one of the immunocompromised citizens who is fearing crowds right now, so I’ll get lots of writing time in the comfort of my home! :)

#ticklefic #lee!michael #ler!minireena's #five nights at freddy's sister location

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