#leaving mine after seven years of sweat blood and tears in a few days and I want to see them die in my dust | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

erodasfishtacos · 3 years

Note

Can I request a prompt of dad!Harry where maybe it’s just him And Sasha and they get mobbed and her slightly hurt but he is furious

JUST A LESSON

word count: 5k+ (how'd i write this in one day)

warnings: language, smut, blood, minor injuries

- If you'd like more from dad!harry verse - check out my masterlist! (pinned post)

- PLEASE NOTE: DAD!HARRY & CEO!HARRY ARE TWO DIFFERENT TROPES.

*** <- click for visuals throughout the story!

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Harry was quite stressed out. He wasn’t sure how his wife did it all the time. She was constantly packing up Sasha and toting her around the globe to meet up with him for concerts and events when he was away.

The little family had been staying in their Los Angeles home for nearly three months now as Harry had been writing for his third solo album. It involved a lot of late nights were Y/N were putting Sasha to bed by herself.

Harry was eternally grateful that she was so patient and understanding when he snuck into bed quarter past three after finding a rift that fit a new song perfectly or when Mitch had an idea that had Harry on Skype for hours with him.

The stress was overwhelming for her though. She was usually good at self-care and taking time for herself but Sasha had been so needy lately and crabby when her father wasn’t at her beck and call.

The toddler was going through a bout where she struggled to sleep through the night and had a tendency to scream bloody murder when she didn’t get her way.

It was nearly three weeks of this and she hadn’t mentioned it too much to Harry because she didn’t want him to be as stressed out as she was.

Tonight, Y/N had rocked, sang, hummed, and read to her daughter to stop the angry tears that were rolling down her cheeks but nothing was working. It was near eleven at night and she had took Sasha out in the car for a long ride where she finally fell asleep.

But as soon as Y/N unlocked the front door, she startled awake even angrier than before, squirming out her mother’s grip and bolting through the house. When she tried to round a corner, she slipped on her bum.

Y/N felt her anxiety level break.

Sasha began screaming once again, “Mummy! No! No!”

When Y/N picked her up after her slight tumble, she was absolutely not hurt but had become even more frustrated. Y/N was starting to feel overwhelmed - which didn’t happen often.

“Baby, what do you want? What can mummy do?” Y/N asks with desperation, searching her baby’s watery green eyes. She looked so much like her dad it was absurd.

“No! Down! Stop!” The two year old orders with a furrowed brow, lips in a tight line with her nose scrunched up in displeasure.

“Sasha, you just hurt yourself. You can’t run in the house, the floor is slippery,” Y/N tells her firmly despite it falling upon deaf ears.

“Bad mummy,” Sasha shrieks, “Daddy! Want Daddy! Now!”

Y/N is embarrassed to admit that she has tears welling up in her eyes. She was trying everything in her power to soothe her baby. It’s midnight at this point and she’d been at it since seven this morning.

Sasha had refused a nap all day - giving Y/N no respite at all. Harry had left at eight in the morning and hadn’t returned yet. Even though Sasha was only two and a half, Y/N felt a pang at the words ‘bad mummy.’

She didn’t feel any other option at this point than to call Harry for help. She wanted to be capable of being at stay home mum but sometimes it was really fucking hard but she felt guilty because she should be able to do this. Harry was out there working hard, providing, constantly.

When he doesn’t answer, the tears freely start streaming down her face in silence. She scrubs at them quickly so that her daughter doesn’t see them but it’s hard to catch them all - sobs threatening to bubble through her lips.

“Daddy’s working, we need to go to sleep,” Y/N replies to her daughter, jaw clenched to hold back the upset she feels. She needs a minute alone but she doubts her toddler will let her.

“Pool?” Sasha piques, “Swim?”

Y/N wants to laugh, it’s so fucking late and Sasha should have been in bed nearly four hours ago. The mother was so beyond her routine at this point, that she actually just gave in to her daughter.

Sasha’s mood turns around when Y/N wrangles them both into their swimsuits ***and trails out of the back patio, switching on all the lights around as well as in the pool. The California air was still extremely warm, enough to cause a sweat. ***

She tugs a little donut raft into the pool with them that Sasha can float around on while Y/N guides it to keep her safe. She was so tired by this point that her bones felt like they weighed a million pounds.

Sasha’s eyes droop until they finally flutter close within minutes of being in the warm water. Her eyelids splotchy pink from all of the fits and tears from the day. And when she is completely asleep, Y/N lets herself cry as she continues to float the baby around the pool to keep her asleep.

She hasn’t been doing it for more than ten minutes when the patio door opens and Harry is stepping into the back with a confused expression that she can’t see because her back is turned to him.

“Love, why are you in the pool? S’late,” Harry asks softly but he doesn’t get an answer, so he’s slipping out of his plain tee and striped pants, dirty vans kicked to the side ***.

Just in his briefs, he quietly enters the pool to not disrupt the ebb and flow of the water. When he makes his way over to her, he slides in front of his wife, alarmed at the exhausted, tearful expression on her face.

“Baby, what’s happened? Talk t’me,” Harry whispers, hands coming to cup his wife’s face in between his large hands. Rings cold against her hot, wet cheeks. He looks to his sleeping daughter, running his eyes over her a few times and decides she seems completely okay.

“M’fine,” Y/N chokes out but the lie causes a fresh wave of tears.

Harry frowns, “Don’t lie to me, pet. Please, don’t shut me out. M’always here for you.”

“I’m a bad mum,” She sobs silently, her eyes closing as she leans into his palms before moving to rest her head heavily on the crook of his tattooed shoulder, his chest damp from the salty tears.

“Wha-What’s brought this on? Y’the best mum in the world, best wife in the world. The best at everythin’, why are you doubtin’ that, my heart?” Harry murmurs, taking over the rocking motions of Sasha’s raft.

“She wouldn’t settle today, Harry. Like at all, refusing to nap, eat any healthy food, or bathe. She screamed at me the whole day no matter what I did and then she told me I was bad and she wanted you.”

“Love, she’s in the midst of her terrible twos. She loves you more than anythin’ on this earth. Y’her mummy and a damn good one at that. Why didn’t y’call me? I’d come home, work is never more important than our family.”

Y/N doesn’t bring up the fact she did try to call, “I need to be able to do this myself, Harry. M’a stay at home mum, taking care of Sash is literally my only job and I can’t even do that.”

Harry’s face hardens but he tries to not take it personally, knowing his wife is just upset with herself, “That’s not fair to me, dove. M’her daddy, she’s half mine too. She’s just as much of my responsibility as yours, no matter what my job is.”

“I don’t want to stress you out more than necessary,” Y/N mutters into his skin.

“Me coming home to my wife in tears and my baby in the pool at midnight is more stressful than you ringin’ me to come home,” Harry tells her, smearing a few kisses to the top of her hair.

“I’m sorry for worrying you. I’m just tired.”

Harry pulls her back so he can look her in the eyes, “Never apologize for somethin’ like that. Go get a bath and let me put the bub to sleep, okay? I love y’mumma.”

Harry calls his mum the next morning while Y/N is out getting a manicure with Glenne. He’d called her favorite salon earlier in the day, coercing them into opening a spot for her with a monetary bribe.

Y/N had hesitated at the door as Sasha threw a fit at her mother leaving the house. She clung onto her calf until Harry had to physically pull her off and hold her tightly in his arms.

Currently, Sasha was playing with a set of dolls on the floor of her bedroom as Harry sat next to her. She’d originally been happy with the presence of her father until he told her he needed to make a phone call.

Harry had to be stern with her when she went to grab at the phone pressed to his ear, gently gripping her wrist and frowning, “We don’t do that, s’not nice.”

Sasha had attempted to grab at it again and managed to tangle Harry’s long locks into his fist, tugging at them. Harry unraveled the small fingers before telling his daughter, “If you do that one more time, y’going on the step for two minutes.”

The threat had her pouting harshly but turning back to her toys to occupy herself, sighing when his mum finally answered the phone, “Hi darling.”

“Hi mum, you alright?” Harry asks, relaxing at the sound of his mother’s melodic voice.

“I’m perfect, you don’t sound okay, dear,” Anne replies with a concerned twinge.

Harry didn’t call much to complain, didn’t like worrying her and most of the time Y/N was able to provide the support he needed or Jeff.

“Y/N’s really overwhelmed,” Harry tells her before choking up a bit, “And I don’t know what to do mum, I feel like m’bein’ a bad husband. Came home to her crying last night and she feels like she’s a bad mum.”

When Sasha hears her father’s voice crack, she looks up at him curiously before recognizing that he’s upset. She crawls into his lap, fitting herself against his chest before playing with a doll there. Comforting him.

Harry wraps his free arm around her, pulling her as close as possible. His precious little baby. A little blessing as sweet as her mother.

“Oh honey, that happens. Mums, good mums especially are so critical when they don’t need to be. Baby’s are overwhelming, plus I know she’s been alone a lot with her. But you’re not a bad husband, dear.”

“It feels like it,” Harry sniffles, burying his face in his daughter’s lavender-scented curls from her bath earlier.

“If you were, you wouldn’t be calling,” Anne chuckles at her son, “Now how can we make this situation better?”

The phone call helped Harry not feel so hopeless in helping his wife. He’d come up with the plan to fly to England with Sasha so that Anne could see her but Y/N could have some alone time for a long weekend.

When Y/N enters the front door after her appointment, she’s met by a very excited little human who rushes to her mother and demands to be picked up. Of course, Y/N obliges, looking a bit more refreshed and awake as she tucks the baby against her hip.

Harry had ordered their favorite salads from a shop in the city and had it ready for her, “Oh, looks delicious. Thank you, H,” She smiles at him, leaning to give his stubbly cheek a kiss.

As they dig in, Y/N feeding bits of chicken and veggies to her daughter as they eat, Harry clears his throat, “I’m taking Sash to Holmes Chapel for the long weekend to see my mum.”

Y/N smiles, “That sounds great!”

Harry gives her a perplexed look, he’d thought she’d put up a fight. She despised being away from Sasha - couldn’t go a day without seeing her daughter.

“Really?” Her husband asks, putting down his fork.

“Mhm, I just have to pack a bag for Sash and I. When are we leaving?” Y/N replies eagerly, ready to go back home and get away from California for a bit.

Harry’s stomach clenches, “Erm, I meant just me and the baba? I thought you could stay here and relax for a weekend. Sleep, hang out, shop.”

Y/N’s face falls and is replaced with a devastated look, “You don’t think I’m being a good mum.”

Harry backpedals, realizing he shouldn’t have approached it in the lax way he did.

“No, no, of course not, baby. I think you’re such a good mum that you need a break. You never get breaks, m’the one who always does. S’not fair to you. I just need you to have some time to take care of yourself,” Harry explains, his heart shattering a bit at the tears brimming again.

“I don’t want a break, don’t leave me here,” Y/N begs, tucking a piece of tomato in her daughter’s expectant mouth before Sasha chews and smiles at her mother.

“Mummy, more please?” Sasha chirps, her mood a little bit brighter than it had been the last few days.

“Thank you for using your manners, here baby,” Her mother responds, popping another into her mouth after she sliced it in half.

“Did you book a commercial flight?” She asks her husband with an angry tone.

“No, private but we have to catch it at LAX,” Harry explains, the private airport they usually fly out of was filled to capacity at the moment.

“Either I’m coming or you’re going alone. You’re not taking Sasha without me,” Y/N replies firmly. She stands up and shuffles Sasha into his lap before leaving the room without another word.

Harry didn’t expect that. He should have thought it through more. If Y/N wanted to come, of course she could, but he’d never meant to offend her or act like he was taking Sasha away from her.

Harry had attempted to reason his way out of going to the studio with Jeff today. However, with the final cuts and adjustments were being made - he was quickly turned down and demanded in the studio.

When he’d trailed into the quiet house that night, relieved to find his baby in her crib instead of the pool, he went to his bedroom where the lights were still on.

The closet doors were open and Y/N was on the ground folding and sorting Sasha’s clothes before placing them in her suitcase. ***

Y/N’s suitcase already laying zipped and ready to go by the entrance of the closet. Her toiletry bag was placed neatly on top of it. Then his heart pings a bit when he sees that she’s already packed up his suitcase as well.

Harry pads over to his wife, plopping down behind her and tugging her back into him - long arms wrapping around her upper chest.

“Missed you, mumma.”

She hums, “I missed you too. Miss you always.”

“Y’the love of my life, y’know that?” Harry asks, kissing the back of her neck.

“I better be or you married the wrong person,” Y/N laughs softly, her tone still off but lighter than before.

“Married the right person, knocked up the right person.”

Y/N barks out a laugh, rolling her eyes, “How romantic.”

“Baby, y’know what I’m getting at. You’re the best mum and wife. I just wanted you to have a few days to yourself. To lower your stress level and let you do some self-care,” Harry murmurs, pushing the baby clothes out of her hands.

“But your mum can watch her for a bit while we’re there, right? I don’t want alone time, I need the exact opposite. I need company,” She tells him, twisting herself until she’s seated in his lap - straddling him.

“Mmm, can definitely have some alone time,” Harry agrees instantly, his mouth finding her throat - beginning to lay a path of wet, hot kisses down the column down to her collarbones.

“H, I have t’pack, we’re leaving tomorrow morning,” Y/N weakly argues but can’t help but bear down against her husband when she feels him harden in his loose pants quickly.

“S’just a quickie? Yeah, pet? Lemme fuck you,” Harry’s hands dragging the shirt she’s wearing up and over her head. Eyes lighting up boyishly when he realizes she didn’t have a bra on.

She can’t argue as he darts down to wrap his lips around her pert bud, sucking between long swipes of his tongue - just how she liked it. “Missed y’body so much,” Harry states against her heated skin.

“Just had me two days ago,” Y/N laughs but it cuts off into a moan when his hand slides into her pajama shorts and finds her clit over her thin underwear.

“Never enough,” Harry replies easily, “Remember the song I wrote f’you?”

Y/N snarkily asks, “Which one? Nearly all your songs are about me.”

And well...Harry can’t even argue how true her statement is. “The one titled ‘Never Enough’, pet? Remember?”

Before she can speak, he lowly croons out the chorus of the song he wrote for One Direction years ago, “Lips so good I forget my name. I swear I would give you everything. It’s never enough, never enough.”

Harry knows his sweet as syrup singing gets her immensely turned on and so he’s not surprised when she whimpers against his lips, “Fuck me, c’mon.”

He’s delighted at his wife’s pleas and quickly moves them, leaning forward with her until she’s on her back on the ground of their walk-in closet. He accidentally kicks over a pile of Sasha’s dresses but neither even notice.

There is no time wasted as Harry removed every single article from Y/N’s body quickly as well as his own. He’s leaning forward to suck a few more kisses to her chest as his fingers slip down to crook right up into her hot center.

“No teasing,” Y/N complains, wrapping hands around his biceps and bringing him on top of her more fully. She’s squeezing around his two fingers with need, it has him groaning when he brings them up and sucks them between his pouty lips.

Then she’s not waiting any longer, reaching down and grabbing a hold of his thick length. Harry lets out rumble from his chest at the contact before she’s guiding him into her without any further ado.

“Baby,” Harry chastises as soon as she starts goading him into thrusts with her feet against him bum, pushing him into her harder than he’d usually start, “Y’squeezin’ me s’tight, you missed me too?”

Y/N nods, whining every time he pushes against her spot and sends a zip of arousal through her body. His trimmed hair around his base brushing against her clit causing delicious friction for her.

“No, y’need to tell me,” Harry huffs, hand gripping her jaw harsher than he would if they were having slow, intimate sex. He knew she loved it by the way her eyes twinkle with stubbornness.

“No,” She replies coyly, heels of her feet pressing hard against him to the point it itches with a slight pain. Harry loved his wife so much it was looney.

“It’s fine, don’t need y’to come for me to get off, dove,” Harry replies simply, speeding up his thrusts with his hand holding her jaw for him to press bruising kisses against. His teeth are coming to pull her bottom lip in between.

Something switches in her demeanor though without warning, her voice softer and pliant, “Tell me you love me.”

It has Harry slowing down his hips until he’s rocking deeper into her, going down on his elbows so their noses are bumping. He releases the grip of her chin and instead moves to her bum to encourage her to meet him halfway.

“I love you, s’much it hurts most days,” Harry replies obediently, knowing what his wife needed at that moment. Reassurance. “Most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on, then you made us a perfect little baby.”

She’s looking up at him with loving, grateful eyes, landing a gentle peck to his upper lip and letting her head fall back onto the floor. This is what she needed right now from her husband and he was so good at providing.

“Breaks my heart when y’don’t think your a good mum or wife. ‘Cause you’re everythin’ I ever wanted. Why’d you think I write every song about you, lovie? S’cause you’re my soulmate.”

“H,” She whimpers, emotion thick in her throat as she meets his eyes, “I love you so much. You’re the best husband and dad ever.”

“Baby,” Harry murmurs into her cheek, picking up speed as she starts to clench around him in a warning of her oncoming orgasm. He slips his hand down to press a few light rubs to her clit before she’s arching her back and moaning with pleasure.

“You look s’good, coming ‘round my cock,” Harry tells her, helping her ride through it before hitching her hips up even further and thrusting harshly until his hips stutter and he’s coming as well.

“Harry,” Y/N sighs, her breathing coming back to normal as she roams a hand down his shoulders and back - scratching lightly.

“Hmm, dove? Y’want my cock again? Need a few,” He replies into her neck, ever the teenage boy.

She giggles, “No, we have to catch a flight at eight in the morning and it’s currently four-thirty.”

Harry grunts before pulling out and sitting up, “Y’better have packed my favorite pajama pants or I’m goin’ to be cross with you.”

Y/N now regrets the second round of fun as soon as their alarm goes off. Her body sore from the position he’d twisted her into against the shower wall after they packed the rest of Sasha necessities.

They were nearly at the airport with Sasha nodding back off in the carseat. She was excited to see her Nana and Aunt Gemma once again.

Their daughter was in the cutest, comfiest jumpsuit with comic hearts all over it *** and adorable little sock sneakers*** that slide right on and off her feet.

Harry had chucked on black sunglasses, a black jumper with green lettering, black joggers, and blue checkered van with white socks. He was attempting to fly under the radar as much as possible because he knew paparazzi just sit outside the entrances to spot celebrities. ***

It was annoying but he could deal with it when he was mobbed at the airport when he was by himself. But when it was with his wife and baby - he couldn’t stomach it. It’s part of the reason they fly private from a private port.

When they pull up to the curb, a staff member is waiting for them and helps Harry as well as the driver put his luggage on a cart to be brought to the awaiting jet.

Y/N unbuckles the baby who is awake now but bleary-eyed as she’s sitting on the curve of her mother’s hip.

And well - that’s when the madness begins. A pap spots them within seconds of exiting the car and is pulling up his camera for the first shots, the other photographers sitting around follow suit.

As soon as one of them screams, “Harry Styles - look this way!” The jam packed area looks towards them, seeming fans of his start murmuring before following behind the paparazzi pulling their phones out.

Y/N is used to the crowds by now - but just like Harry, not with Sasha around. They tried to avoid situations like this as much as possible. The lights and loud noises were scary to the little girl.

“Mummy,” Sasha whines, picking her head up from her mother’s shoulder to stare wide-eyed at the gathering in front of them.

Harry started to feel anxiety because this was becoming a massive crowd - scratch that, it wasn’t a crowd it was a fucking mob of people. They were all too close, blinding the family with their flashes despite security attempting to push them back.

Fans were shoving and thrusting their phones in Harry’s face, shoving random things for him to sign in front of him. Paparazzi were screaming questions and taking thousands of pictures in a minute’s time.

Harry grabs onto Y/N’s hand tightly, their diaper bag on Harry’s shoulder, and begins to attempt to guide them through the swarm. It was like trying to move through cement, the crowd not budging despite security’s screams.

Sasha is full blown crying at this point into her mother’s neck. Y/N’s hand cupping the back of her head to keep her head down and out of the photographs - holding her as tightly as possible.

Y/N can hear Harry began to curse - signaling that he’s becoming stressed out because he would usually never be rude to the public despite their actions. But he couldn’t give a fuck when it came to his family.

“Move out of the way.”

“D’you not see I have a fuckin’ baby?”

“Get those fuckin’ cameras out of their faces.”

“Back the fuck away from my wife and baby.”

Then Y/N is being shoved by a teenage girl who trips when she thrusts her arm towards Harry. She tumbles into Y/N with her full weight and Y/N’s loses her footing, falling forward - letting go of Harry’s hand.

When she falls, she manages to catch herself with the arm that’s not holding her daughter. But she feels pain in her knees and Sasha emits a sharp wail that alerts Y/N her daughter is hurt.

“Sash, fuck,” Y/N gasps, her motherly instincts automatically kicking in and she’s cradling her daughter as tightly to her chest as she can, shielding her from the swarm who had quieted only a bit.

It must take Harry a second to realize that something had happened, he turns around - eyes frantic as he absolutely roars, “Back the fuck up! I’ll fuckin’ break each and everyone of your cameras! Fucking leeches.”

With that, he’s helping to pull you up and grasping at the two, “Are you okay? Wha’s hurt?”

Y/N just shakes her head, having a panic attack as she shuffles the crying baby into his arms. “Please, just...Sasha. I think she hurt her arm when I fell.”

“Daddy, ouch,” Sasha shrieks loudly into his sweatshirt as he hikes her up onto his chest, her little legs wrapped around his midsection.

“Ssh, y’okay,” Harry tries to reassure her, matching his wife’s panic.

The crowd seems to give way now, the parents rushing their daughter into the airport.

Employees guide them to the medical office on-site where it’s now silent and calm but the family feels anything but.

Sasha’s sobs have turned into moans and whimpers at this point - but come back with a vengeance when Harry has to set her on the exam table and wrestle her out of her clothes until she’s just sat in her diaper.

The nurse was so amazing and kind. She checked Sasha thoroughly for any signs of trauma or broken bones but luckily, it was just a nasty scrape on her forearm that was hurting her. It wasn’t anything serious.

The parents had such concern for their daughter that Y/N didn’t even realize she had bled through her white joggers at the knees ***. The nurse frowns, “Honey, you’re still bleeding.”

“I’m fine,” She insisted even though her knees were aching.

“I’d like to examine your legs, dear,” The nurse tells her sternly, signaling that Harry can dress Sasha again.

He’s digging into the diaper bag for a spare out that they were always ready with. She was calming even more when Harry dressed her in a comfy pink set of clothes with little deer on them. ***

“Love, please let her,” Harry asks softly, pulling Sasha back onto his chest. Her thumb tucked into her mouth and her father hands her a plushie that Y/N had shoved in the bag last minute.

Y/N obliges with the pressure, wiggling the loose fabric down her legs until she’s just in her underwear and shirt - sits up on the table with her knees off to the side for her to examine.

Harry grimaces when he sees the multiple cuts and scrapes tainting her skin. A few slow trickles of blood still oozing from the gashes. The skin is already slowly covering purple and blue with bruises.

The nurse cleans her up, Y/N wincing when the alcohol brushes the cuts but Sasha is smiling again like nothing ever happened and cooing at her mum. It makes them both feel a lot better.

When they’re finally on the private jet, up high into the clouds away from the crowds and paparazzi - it feels like relief. ***

They had tucked their daughter onto the couch with her favorite fuzzy blanket and she’s asleep nearly as soon as her head hits the pillow.

They trail back into the other part of the cabin so that they don’t disturb her, cuddling up on the couch together.

“M’so sorry, I’m such a bad fa-”

Y/N cuts him off before he begins, “If I’m not allowed to be a bad mum - you’re not allowed to be a bad father. It wasn’t y’fault that happened - it’s those careless, crazed people who have nothing better to do.”

Y/N was always the voice of reason in Harry’s head when he started to spiral.

Spiral because his fame was so overwhelming and got his family into difficult situations sometimes. She brought him back to reality.

“Hey, we’re both okay. Just a few scrapes. It was just a lesson, Harry. We just need to be safer and plan better, alright?” Y/N assures him softly, kissing under his chin before resting back - ready to sleep.

“Y’the best. Best mum, best wife,” Harry tells her, encompassing her in his loving hold.

let me know your thoughts bub

come talk to me <3

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wp-blaze · 3 days

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Enjoying Life’s Possibilities

It’s been a great adventure studying Ecclesiastes with you! I hope you have enjoyed it — please share the series with your friends or catch up on what you missed. Click here for all of the Enjoy Life: from Meaningless to Meaningful posts! I’m going to be completely honest with you, my friend. Today’s post was […]

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thefallennightmare · 3 years

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Hard to Love [19/?]

Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader

Words: 2748

Warnings: this story will have mentions of abuse, mental and physical so please read at your own risk. Some swearing, angst, and a good amount of fluff. Maybe some smut if I'm feeling frisky.

Summary: After moving to a new town all on her own, Reader would do anything for a stable job and income. Even if that means housekeeping for one of Boston's eligible bachelors. What she didn't expect was finding herself falling in love with him and finding him out about the past that she was running from.

A/N: I couldn’t leave you guys hanging all night! TBH, I’m not sure how much longer this series is going to go. I’ve got a few things in my brain but well see how long this lasts! As always, enjoy :)

Tags: @kelbabyblue @patzammit @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss @jennmurawski13 @divadinag @cosmicbreathe @thevelvetseries @capstopavenger @chris-butt @denisemarieangelina @im-a-stranger-thing @jennamarieee623 @introvertedmouse @lharrietg @thejemersoninferno @breezykpop @instantbasementtimetravel @rodgersteves @michaelscotfield-blog1 @40srogcrs @wonderingshawn @bellaireland1981 @katelyneannxo @lady-x-red @sare-bare93-blog @annmariek8 @raabrakha @stxvercgersslut

Chris’ POV.

A broken sigh fell from my lips as I sat on the back patio, Scott and my mom sitting at the table next to me. They had been here for the morale support, knowing that if I was still left alone, I would have gone insane.

The bags under my eyes had darken, my facial hair had grown longer than I usually like; I hadn’t had the will to shave. My long hair was matted on my head, refusing to get off the couch to shower. I didn’t want to risk missing her phone call.

“How long has it been?” Scott asked, his voice breaking the last ten minute silence.

I looked at my watch and choked back a sob. “Almost 48 hours.”

“They’ll find her, honey,” My mom rubbed my back.

Running a hand over my face, I nodded. “I keep thinking that if we haven't fought that night, she would be home right now. I can’t believe those were my last words to her. What if that’s all she's going to remember if she di-.”

I wasn’t able to finish my sentence, a loud sob replacing my words.

“Chris, you can’t think like that. You have to think positive.” Scott stated.

“How can I?!” I yelled while I stood to my feet, the chair scraping on the pavement.

“Her crazy ex husband has her! For all the cops know, he could have killed her the second he hit her with the bat!”

My voice was deep and bellowed through my backyard. Thankfully it was only us outside so I didn't need to explain myself to anyone.

The news of Y/N’s kidnapping unfortunately had been on every news channel local to Boston and Chad’s face was plastered all over social media, hoping any tips would pour in. My phone had non stop messages from family, friends, and fans. A lot of the fans thought it was a hoax since I hadn’t said one word about it.

“Any tips come in online?” My mother asked.

“Nothing, everyone thinks it’s a hoax,” I sighed.

“Why don’t you say something?” Scott suggested.

I looked at him skeptically. “I don’t know how that would help.”

“You have a huge fanbase, Chris; especially around Boston. It doesn't hurt,” Scott said.

Sucking on my bottom lip, I tossed the thought around in my head, back and forth back and forth, until I decided with a nod. Someone would be able to find something.

I stepped away from them while pulling out my phone and clicked the live button on Instagram, taking a deep breath beforehand. The light had turned green, indicating I was live.

“Hey everyone. I’m sure a lot of you heard the news about Y/N. First off, I want to say that it is true. She was abducted a few blocks from here almost 48 hours ago. The cops have evidence that her ex is behind it but they’re having trouble finding where he took her.”

I ran a hand through my hair and continued. “We’ve been together for almost a year and she means the world to me; almost as much as Dodger. Hell, even more than Dodger. She’s everything to me, I need her back home. So if any of you have any information please pass it along to Boston PD. Or you can even send it to me but please, I beg you, serious leads only. I love her. Let’s bring Y/N home. Thank you guys, you are simply the best fans. I love you all.”

The live ended and immediately I noticed the outpouring coming from everyone that had watched the live, letting me know that Y/N was in their prayers and that they would help bring her home.

A few tears rolled off my cheeks and I let out a shaky breath, holding back the sobs. My mom snuck up behind me and wrapped herself around me, pulling into a much needed hug.

My body crumbled in her embrace and the sobs became louder, burning our ears. I could help but grip my fingers into my moms back, even if she was shorter than I, but suddenly I was a little kid again. She always knew when I needed a hug or a shoulder to cry on. She knew exactly what I needed to get over heartbreak and she knew exactly when to back off when I needed space.

Right now I needed her.

After a few moments, I finally pulled away from her and thanked her with a kiss to the cheek.

“Thanks mom,” I forced a smile to my face.

“Of course,” she cupped my cheek, “I’m going to make you something to eat.”

I went to protest but she immediately hushed me, saying that I looked like I hadn’t eaten in days.

It was true.

“Are you sure you don’t want us to stay with you?” My mother asked.

Scott sat behind the wheel while I leaned against the window of the passenger side in front of my mom. They stayed for a few hours after dinner and when the clock struck seven, I knew that they should head back home to rest; they’d been by my side all day.

“I’ll be fine, I’ve got Dodger.” I nodded.

“Chris,” she tsked.

“Ma, I’ll be fine. If I need anything, I’ll call.” I reassured her.

Her hand rested on my cheek and with sad eyes, she nodded. “She’ll come home.”

“I know. What’s killing me is not knowing-.”

“Chris?”

Looking to my left, my shocked eyes watched in horror as the figure walked towards me. I scurried away from Scott’s car, closer to the figure. She looked broken, bare feet tore up with cuts, but what caused my lips to tremble was the blood that covered her dress.

“Y/N?” My lips quivered. “Baby?”

Readers POV.

The soles of my heels burned with every step I took, closer and closer to my destination. The pavement scratched and cut my bare skin and I hissed in pain after every few steps. I wasn’t sure how long I had been walking but knew that I had a bit more to go.

A soft breeze tangled around my legs, causing the cuts to sting and I let out another hiss of pain. I pulled the jacket closer around me, blocking out the view from anyone I had walked past, which thankfully wasn’t many. I was in a part of town that the scene of me, disheveled and cut all over was nothing new. I could feel all parts of my hair was matted and stuck to my face, the sweat and blood dried a long time ago.

As the sun began to set, I knew I had to make it back before dark. This part of town was worse at night, but compared to what I had endured, that didn’t scare me. Nothing could scare me anymore.

Time passed slowly as the streets started to become familiar and as my tired feet turned the corner, the familiar three story home that had all those windows slowly came into view. The closer I got, the bigger the windows looked. My heart leaped into my chest when I saw him leaning against a car, talking with someone I couldn’t see. It didn’t matter, however, all that mattered what that I had made it back; back home to him.

“Chris?” My voice was raw and broken, barley coming past my lips.

He pushed himself off the car, taking large strides towards me. His hand outstretched and shook, afraid that I wasn’t real.

“Y/N? Baby?”

Everything seemed to slow as I stood in front of him, broken and a mess, knowing that with the look in his eyes that he hadn’t slept since I left.

“Is that...blood? Oh, god, please tell me it isn’t blood,” he cried, pulling me into his arms.

I broke down in a sobbing mess in his chest, the hell from the past few days finally catching up to me.

“It’s not mine,” I choked between sobs.

“Shh, it’s alright. I’ve got you,” Chris cooed, large hands rubbing circles on my back.

His body shook with sobs, happy that I had found my way home and sad from everything that happened to me.

“We should get you to a hospital, baby.” Chris cupped my face.

I wanted nothing more than to feel his lips on mine but I couldn’t force myself to close the distance; thankfully Chris understood.

“I’m fine,” I tried to fight.

“You’re not fine, Y/N. Please, let me take you to the hospital.” Chris begged with sad eyes.

Eventually I nodded. I didn’t want to go to the hospital because I knew the cops would get called which meant I had to tell them what happened; something I wasn’t ready to tell.

Silence was all we heard, threatening to pull us in deeper, as we waited for the doctor to return with the officer; they wanted to go over everything with them in the room. I agreed.

Chris had his eyes trained hard on the floor, his body unreadable.

“Chris?” My voice was quiet.

He slowly looked up. “Do you need something?”

I nodded and patted the spot next to me on the hospital bed. “Can you sit with me? I really need you right now.”

In a flash he was up from the chair in the corner of the room and by my side, arm wrapped around my shoulder. He kissed my forehead and the warm gesture was enough to slowly heal my heart.

“Ms. Y/L/N?”

We both looked in the doorway and Chris greeted an officer and the doctor.

“Baby, this is Officer Ramirez, she’s handing your case.” Chris informed me.

The word sounded so wrong coming from his lips; your case.

“Are you feeling alright?” The officer asked.

I shrugged. “Better than I was earlier. The drugs helped ease the pain.”

“Are you alright if I go over the results in front of him?” The doctor suddenly asked while nodding toward Chris.

Linking our fingers together, I nodded. “He’s my boyfriend. He was with me for the tests, he’s staying for the results.

It was the doctors turn to nod. “Alright. So you have two bruised ribs, a laceration to your neck, hip and hand which we all stitched up. Some bruising on your face, a black eye, and a few minor cuts on your face as well. You do have a slight concussion so do take it easy for the next week. The bottom of your feet are severely cut up and we pulled quite a few debris out of them so I recommend staying off your feet as well.”

Chris stumbled over his words, trying to ask the one question that burned in his mind. Even though I reassured him countless times, he still needed to hear the doctor say it.

“What about the rape kit?” He finally breathed out.

“Negative. There was no sign of trauma and no foreign fluids. I don’t know how you survived, Ms. Y/L/N, but you are a fighter. I’ll leave you alone with Officer Ramirez.”

After she left the room, I stole a glance at Chris who’s shoulders had eased up a bit, knowing that I wasn’t raped. I knew that it was on his mind the whole time I was gone and since I came back.

“Are you up for giving your statement now?” Officer Ramirez asked.

I nodded. “I need to.”

Chris went to leave but I placed my hand on his thigh to stop him. “Please don’t leave me.”

He nodded. “Okay, I’m right here.”

Taking a deep breath, it came out shaky as I started telling them exactly what happened to me.

“He had me in a run down motel room across town, I knew it was across town when I was able to escape. When he was getting ready to put on a condom,” I felt Chris’ body stiffen next to me, “I saw the knife he’d brought on the table next to the bed and I didn’t even think about it; I went for it.”

“He was too fast and grabbed the knife before I was even off the bed. He used it on my, cutting up parts of my body. He didn’t care how loud I screamed or writhed in pain, he liked it.”

“Uh, after he smacked my head against the wall for trying to escape, he handcuffed me to the bedpost so he could run out for something. I couldn’t hear what he said, my head was throbbing in pain. He was gone for quite awhile and I stayed locked to the bed the entire time. I remember feeling how warm and sticky my blood was as it dripped from my body.”

I cried out, my hands shaking with the awful memories.

Chris wrapped his arms around me to calm me down and looked at Officer Ramirez. “Can we finish this another time?”

“No,” I shook my head while pulling away from his chest. “I have to tell them where his body is.”

Chris’ head snapped over to me, his mouth falling agape. “Don’t say another word, Y/N. Not until I get you a lawyer.”

“Damnit Chris, I don't want a lawyer! I did nothing wrong!,” I yelled. “That bastard, after he finally came back and unhandcuffed me, he passed out drunk in the bed next to me. I thought about running out but I knew that he would find me again. He felt me get out of bed and pulled me back down. We fought for the knife and he kept punching me in the head, smacking me against the wall. All I had was one second as he wiped my blood from his hand to reach for the knife, pushing it deep into his chest!”

My cheeks were soaked with tears, replaying the memory of the knife going into Chad’s heart over and over again. How easily the knife slid into his chest and the sound it made hurt my ears.

“I was so scared of what I had done that I sat in the corner of the room in the fetal position while his body went cold and ridged. I finally was able to will myself up and stole this dress from the laundry room of the hotel and walked all the way home.”

Chris looked at me, completely helpless and broken, but knew that I needed him more than ever. While he had me in his arms, Chris looked over to the officer.

“It’s clear what this is,” He stated.

She nodded. “The defense attorney won’t be pressing any charges. We only needed to get her statement.”

Chris and her chatted for a few more moments, her saying that she would be in touch, and it was finally Chris and I alone.

“You alright?” He pulled my chin up to meet his eyes.

“I was afraid I was going to die,” I admitted, “The only thing that kept me alive was thinking of you.”

“You’re incredibly strong, Y/N.” Chris breathed in my hair, savoring my scent.

Even though I was still covered in blood and sweat, not being able to shower until they collected evidence, I still smelled divine to him.

We found ourselves laying in the hospital bed, my head on his chest, and I could feel his heart beating rapidly through his chest.

“You can relax, I’m home now.” I reassured him.

A stray tear fell from his eyes and I was quick to wipe it away.

“I thought I lost you. I kept replaying our last words to each other in my head and blamed myself for what happened.” Chris admitted with a shaky breath.

“No,” I cupped his cheek, “None of this is your fault; or mine. I’m sorry I ever compared you to him.”

“Don’t apologize. I was being an asshole,” he stated.

“I just want to move past this,” I sighed while laying my head back on his chest.

Chris agreed with a kiss to my forehead.

“I love you,” he muttered against it.

My head shot up, looking into his eyes to see if he meant what he had just admitted.

“What?” I asked.

“I love you,” he said again, not missing a beat.

Getting through the last 48 hours of hell had been worth it because not only had I survived, I made it back home to the man that loved me and who I loved.

“I love you too,” I pressed my lips to his, feeling the familiar taste encase my tongue.

There was a long road to recovery in front of me but I knew that it would be an easy one to walk; with Chris by my side.

#chris evans and reader #reader insert #chris evansx reader #chris evans reader insert #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #chris evans angst

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minidigidestined · 3 years

Text

Antlion and Seung

A oneshot I started like a year ago and finished the other day. it is the meeting of two of my OCs, Antlion and Seung. Just something short, simple and fun... I may rework it and turn it into its own series!

XXX

"Alright, Bonk, let's get out of here. I think we've got about all we can carry." Auburn hair tied into twin tails with string fluttered in the spring breeze as a stout woman screwed the cap back on the last of the many canteens hanging from the belt at her waist, slipping a morel mushroom into the straps on her back. She wiped the sweat from her brow with the hem of her dress, squinting at the fading sun. "Plus it's getting late. Owls will be out." Each movement--down to the most minute--efficient, sure and almost mechanical. A round toad, pale white and studded with cheerfully ruddy warts, stared back at her with scarlet eyes. He stood about an inch or two taller than his possibly human companion--well, if you didn't count her absolutely diminutive stature or slitted eyes, along with a few other uncanny features. Bonk cocked his head, looking concerned and almost as uncanny as the girl with his wide mouth and unwavering stare. His throat swelled with a chirp of warning, but the tiny woman was preoccupied with situating the plump morel among her gear. "This'll be some great eating! Mix it up with some roasted crickets back at the hollow and we'll definitely be good to hole up for a coup--" The ground rumbled with the slightest of vibrations, but silence hung heavy in the air--with even the cicada choir gone quiet, that definitely meant there was some sneaky predator around. "Bonk, go!" Without a second thought, the tiny lady swung atop her warty steed, grasping onto his parotid glands for purchase. The albino toad lurched forward with a mighty hop, abandoning their puddle of rainwater and shooting toward the trail leading to their burrow in the gnarled roots of an old oak... ...And slammed straight into an open palm. "Hm. I'm sorry." The voice that rumbled above them was thoughtful, quiet, calculating. And yet no less terrifying. A human this far in the woods couldn't mean anything good. Bonk fell backwards, chirping desperately as he sprung up to cover his friend with his heavy-set body, flattening down on top of her. Terrified, she pressed her face into the soft bumpy skin of his belly, mind rushing to think of the old Nature Queens her mother had taught her about when she was young. Something to pray to. To cry to. And quite possibly to curse at. She had never once been this foolish and oblivious before, but she had just been so tired and hungry... She and Bonk both had lost so much weight during the barren winter, but she thought with the recent rain their luck was changing at last. She got too excited, a rookie mistake when out foraging. "Stupid..." She grit her teeth together, willing her tears away as she felt Bonk's rapid heartbeat thrum against her face. "An albino--how rare and pretty." The once-before dreary voice now seemed to hold a bit of sparkle. "Let me get a good look at you...you're a big guy for being so bright out here. Figured you would have been eaten by now. Lucky one." Long fingers gently curled around Bonk's abdomen, lifting the little toad right on up despite his now outraged wriggling. "Piss rocket, Bonk! Piss on him!" The girl grit between her teeth. She knew the human would see her any second now--and once he did, it was all over. Bonk began to squirm wildly, spraying a certain kind of liquid artillery as his tiny feet grasped for his friend's hands. His red eyes shone with terror, the woman's own black eyes reflecting pure rage. The human lifted Bonk completely into the air after getting a firm grasp on his back legs, turning the amphibian with a sure hand to face their visage head-on. The tiny woman finally got a good look at them--tall and rail thin, pale eyes and hair brushed away from their brow and tied in a high ponytail. Everything about them seemed pointed and grim, fragile like glass, a stark contrast to both the woman and Bonk's soft, rounded and much sturdier looking shapes. "Such bright colors." The human mused, flipping Bonk over to inspect his belly. "I just can't get over it. How did such a garish little thing like you survive so long?" The woman eyed a strange contraption hanging around the human's neck, a circular lens catching the last of the fading sun. Bonk smacked the human with his front feet and swelled his throat, all out of pee and struggling to escape. I can't let this go on, The woman thought. Who cares about the elf courts? The rules? No one's here to listen in now. No nobles have ever helped me, and I refuse to let a damn thing happen to Bonk! The tiny lass, no more than a few inches tall, whisked her blade from the strap at her hip--be it but a sewing needle, she knew it could still draw blood if neccessary. She slipped the morel from her back to use as a, uh... Club? Shield? She wasn't quite sure at this point, vision going red with rage and brain dizzy with fear. He's all I have left. "Put him down!" She cried at the top of her little lungs. "Or else my Deathweaver will have a taste of you, human!" The human seemed to startle for a moment, flinching inward and glancing around almost sheepishly. Then their gaze flicked down, jaw going slack. I'm all he has. Anything but leaving him behind, She reminded herself as her blood turned to ice. She tried to imagine herself as a human would--being tiny was shocking enough she was sure, but her long ears, mottled white and tan skin, black spots, slitted eyes, whip tail and her hands covered in setae? She had seen how humans reacted before... Knowing some kind of earth magic would be great right about now... Anything more than a knitting needle to keep from getting stepped on. Oh, how she wished she had been as talented as the rest of her family! "...You look like a House Gecko. Mediterranean." The human blinked. "But a person. At the same time. Huh." She blinked back, then sneered. "I am Antlion." The woman gripped her needle, growling. "And you will unhand my friend at once!" She was shaking uncontrollably. The human continued to stare, Bonk himself going still and cocking his head as if confused by the sudden stand-off. "Well, I'm Seung." The human said, plainly. "I need to get a look at you." "Excuse me?! I'll poke out your--" Her war cry became a squeal when the human reached forward with his free hand. She rolled out of the way--just how Honey-Lavender taught me--but it still wasn't enough. The human's fingers caught the strap across her back, lifting her right off the ground. Antlion snarled, kicking her legs and thrusting her needle upwards. She laughed when it raced across the human's palm, making them wince. "Bring me to your face, Seung!" She hissed out mockingly. "Let's see you look at me with no eyes!" Seung's lips twisted in a wry smile. "What a shame that would be." "Eeugh?" Antlion felt heat rise to her cheeks before baring her teeth. "Let my friend go or your nose is mine!" She pointed the needle right at their face, wincing inwardly when she noticed something more along the lines of a paper cut rather than the grievous wound she had been aiming for on her foe's wrist. "You've got attitude. Usually house geckos are runners. How interesting. You do have the markings though. Does your tail drop?" Antlion stared straight forward, her black and silver eyes locked into his own. The clear blue of a frozen lake. An early morning sky before frost. Delicate as glass. She burned. She'd do anything to melt that ice into nothing. The little woman cursed her diminutive size. "Hm. I could see why you'd be frustrated." They seemed to snap out of a fog. "I guess that was rude. I've just never seen anything like you. And your companion is an albino american toad? With your...aggression, I suppose I know how he's survived so long despite his color." Bonk croaked indignantly. Antlion's eyes narrowed, her sword arm unwavering. "We grew up together, I raised him from a tadpole. I'd do anything to keep him safe--even slay a giant like you." "There's no need for any slaying." Seung said dryly, the edge of their mouth curling into something like a smile. "Let me prove it to you." Carefully, they lowered both of their hands to the earth, placing each of his tiny charges back on the ground. "There." Antlion's heart was in her throat, even as Bonk pressed his face into her shoulders, his body loose with relief. "What are you doing, human?" "I would just like to talk. Ask some questions." Seung said delicately. "I'm studying herpetology right now, and I'm the president of the photography club. The only member of it, actually." "I do not know what your silly words mean." Antlion's eyes became angry slits, the human's shadow encompassing her. "That's okay, we'll get there." Seung nodded, as if this were all completely natural to them. "What do you mean?" Antlion demanded, eying them warily as she sheathed her Deathweaver. "We are friends now, are we not? I have a bit of cheese and crackers I'm willing to spare. Let us sit and talk awhile." The little gecko woman blinked. This human was...different. Intriguing and unflinching. She held tight to her anger. Anger kept you safe. But it had been so very long since she had cheese... So even though she was breaking about thirty seven different laws...in their shadow they remained. "I will speak in exchange for cheese." Antlion huffed. "But we are not friends. You giants are my enemy!" Seung smirked softly, reaching into their bag for the snacks. "Of course. So, why don't we start with what in the world you are, then?" Antlion sucked in a deep breath. Bonk nudged her arm, looking just as curious and hungry as she did. She had been lonely for such a long time. Quiet for even longer. And this human...odd as they were, they were also kind. Gentle. Even after she had threatened and spit and spat at them. Perhaps they could be useful to a beast elf like her. After all, there were no law keepers to punish her for simply...using the resources around her, now was there? So she let go for the first time in many years, and began to speak.

Patreon: https://href.li/?https://www.patreon.com/toadwarts?fan_landing=true

Ko-fi: ko-fi.com/toadwarts

A03: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToadWarts

#g/t #giant/tiny #my writing #antlion and seung

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niksixx · 4 years

Text

Patience

~The final part!! Thank you for reading and supporting this mini series. I hope you enjoy part 5.~

Pairing: Axl Rose/Vince Neil x Female Reader

A/N: Reblog so others can see!

*Picture is NOT mine. Found on Google. Credit to the owner!*

Tag list: @littlemisscare-all @curly-hudson @julessworldd @madamsixx @headlight-queen @metalheartofgold @ginny-baker-sixx @mickmarstookmyheart @gunsngunners @bex-tothe-rescue

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s raining again, and the weather outside matches your mood. Dark gray clouds cover the sky, and lightning strikes every so often. It’s one of the colder days in California, and you tug the sleeves of your sweater down to cover your wrists.

Vince hasn’t spoken to you in two days, and you haven’t heard from Axl since your boyfriend threatened him out of your house. You spent that day scrubbing the icing from the kitchen, tears sliding down your cheeks as Vince screamed at you the whole time. He left that night to visit a bar with Nikki, leaving you to cry softly in your bed. He didn’t return until the next morning.

Two days later, your lips still tingle from the kiss you and Axl shared. It was the first time in weeks you’d felt something. Something good. Something wholesome. The tenderness in the kiss kept you wanting more, wanting to feel his lips on yours again.

In your heart, there’s conflicting feelings. And no one is there for guidance. Whatever Axl feels for you is strong. It could be love, and you’re not sure if you feel the same thing.

Of course, all three of the Mötley boys would listen to you ramble about your troubles, but none of them were experts in the dating scene. None of them had been in love before, with the exception of Tommy, but he fell in love with every woman he laid eyes on.

There’s an ache in your heart as you sit by the television, thinking back on the past three years you spent with Vince. Times that you hid in the shadows away from paparazzi. Times where you watched music award ceremonies on television, a pain in your heart knowing that you’d never be on Vince’s arm congratulating him. What kind of a relationship was that?

Even in the privacy of your own home, Vince struggled to love you and care for you. He wasn’t affectionate by nature. He’d greet you with small little pecks on your cheeks or lips, and his sex drive was usually through the roof, but being intimate with Vince felt anything other than intimate. It felt like a chore, and you were bored within ten minutes. With Vince, there was no cuddling or showering after sex, no confessions of love. It was hard to be open and honest with him about your wants and needs, because half of the time he seemed uninterested, or played you off as needy, clingy. It hurt, especially because you’d do anything for him. Mick had always said you deserved better. And Axl had said it too. When were you going to believe it?

There’s faint footsteps behind you as your eyes are glued to the TV, catching the last bit of a Skid Row music video. They were good, sure, but nothing compared to Motley Crue or even Guns N’ Roses.

There’s a change of scenery on the TV that makes you blink twice. It’s a live video, currently happening right at that moment, as Axl and his bandmates settle themselves into stools in an empty studio.

“Get them off my screen,” Vince calls from behind you. He sits at the dining room table, beer bottle suffocating in his grasp.

You don’t even pay him much mind. “You can leave if you don’t like it. I’m keeping it on.”

Surprisingly, he doesn’t fight back, but you hear him mumble a few curse words under his breath. The last words out of his mouth sound like a defeated “I give the fuck up with you.”

On screen, Axl is handed a microphone as more are distributed to the rest of the band. Tilting your head slightly, you drink in his appearance, obsessed with the way he presents himself. He’s more casual today, with both a bandana and a hat on his head, a short sleeve white shirt that shows off his unique tattoos, and tight leather pants that shouldn’t look as good on him as they do.

“This was a spur of the moment type of thing,” he says shyly, rubbing a palm on his thigh. Nervous habit. “We wrote this song in about two hours a few nights ago and the reason I was eager to play it today...is because I wrote it for a woman who I’ve been shamelessly in love with since I was sixteen years old.”

Something in the air shifts. Slack mouthed, you sit up straight as you turn up the volume. The sound of a chair scratching against the floor has goosebumps littering your skin, and before you know it Vince is standing beside you, gritting his teeth. He takes a long swig of the alcohol, wiping his lips with the back of his hand, before setting his jaw, folding his tanned arms across the front of his black muscle tee.

“So Y/N, if by some miracle you’re watching this right now, I want you to know that you were the only person on my mind as we wrote this song. It is solely, purely, for you.”

“Along with all the other love songs he’s written,” Izzy deadpans.

Vince’s eyes burn into the side of your head, but all your attention is directed toward the television as Axl begins to hum a soft tune.

~~~

It’s almost as if you forget how to breathe. It’s an easy process, in and out, in and out, but you struggle with something so simple as the song ends.

Vince hasn’t moved. His face is still visibly flushed, knuckles the palest shade of white as his hand still grips his beer, but he stands completely frozen, eyes boring into the television screen.

You shift uncomfortably on the sofa, pushing your feet deeper into the back of the couch underneath you, reaching out to place a gentle hand on your fuming boyfriend’s elbow. He pulls away, uninterested, and he sips the remaining liquid in the bottle.

“Vinnie…”

“The dude just doesn’t listen,” The laugh that falls from his lips is anything but humorous. It’s empty and dark. There’s an edge to his low voice, and while it’s not angry, it’s...cool. Even. It frightens you. “How many times do I have to tell him to stay away from you? How many different fucking ways can he come up with to get your attention?”

“Vince I had no idea he was going to do something like this.”

But hell, if it wasn’t the most romantic thing a man has ever done for you. He’d broadcasted to the world his raw feelings and emotions, and there was something so sexy about a man who wasn’t afraid to be vulnerable and knew what, or who, he wanted. And the song, so sweet and meaningful, confirmed your suspicions. Axl Rose, the little boy from the playground, the man who sang his heart out on live TV, was in love with you.

Vince shakes his head, clapping a closed fist into an open palm. “This is your fault, you know.”

You blink, standing from the couch, folding your arms over the oversized green sweater. “My fault?”

He takes a step forward, but this time you don’t back down. “You let him back in your life. For seven years you’ve been fine without him, but all of a sudden you meet him one day on the street and decide you apparently can’t live without him? Bullshit.”

“He was my best friend!”

“And I’m your boyfriend!” Vince shouts back. He takes another step forward, nose to nose, and with the strength you gather from your very core, you shove him out of your face.

“You’re nothing!”

The anger in your voice shocks you, startling Vince. He stumbles against the dining room chair, holding onto the arm to regain his balance.

The air between you sizzles with resentment as Vince licks his lips, chewing on the skin. You're both breathing heavily, neither one backing down. “What did you say to me?”

And everything you've been feeling for the last few years comes out in a wave. “I can’t be with you anymore, Vince. I can’t be with someone who is so controlling of my life. I can’t be with someone who would rather please his record label than his girlfriend. I have been waiting for you to wake up for three years now and realize that I deserve better than what you’re giving me.”

“What the fuck have I done that is so bad, huh?” Vince yells, throwing up his arms. “Tell me. Because I sure as shit don’t know.”

It’s hopeless.

He’s hopeless.

And there’s nothing else you can do besides give up.

~~~

You fight for two hours. Screaming, crying, followed by more screaming and crying. It’s exhausting. Somehow, after pointing out everything Vince has done to you, or what he hasn’t done, he convinces himself he’s never been the problem. And that’s when you realize he’s never going to change.

Your phone has buzzed four times in those two hours, but whoever it was would have to wait. There was too much going on, your head was spinning, skin sweating, heart beating wildly. You were on the brink of ending your relationship after wasting three years of your life trying to convince yourself the man, who was currently nestled in the couch nursing another beer, loved you.

Letting out a defeated sigh, your feet drag against the wooden floor as they carry you to your room. There’s a small duffel bag under the bed and you grab it, fishing out some clothes and stuffing it into the bag. Grabbing a few of your necessary toiletries, you shove them in the side pockets as Vince watches from the doorway.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m not staying here. I’ll go stay at Lei’s or maybe my parents or hell maybe even Mick will let me stay over, but I’m not staying here.”

“We still have a lot to talk about.”

The closet door slams closed as your blood boils. “No, Vince. We have nothing to talk about. Not anymore.”

You zip up the duffel and heave it to the living room, slipping on a pair of beat up Chuck Taylors. You pace the house for your keys, Vince following, watching your every move.

“I love you.”

You stop abruptly, spinning around, sucking in shallow breaths of air. No way. No fucking way was he going to manipulate you into staying. Not with those three goddamn words you longed to hear after such a long time.

“You don’t even know what love is, Vince.”

“Kiss me and I’ll show you.”

You find the keys to your car on the kitchen counter, snagging them from the tile. “I’m not kissing you, Vince. Never again.”

“Why not?”

“Because there’s nothing left!” Heaving the duffel onto your shoulder, you grab your phone and slide it into the side of the bag. “Fuck, at least with Axl I felt something!”

Vince freezes, veins popping out from his forehead. Fidgeting with the hem of your sweater, your mouth dries as you mentally scold yourself for the slip of the tongue.

“He...kissed you?” And for the first time in his life, Vince looks almost...upset. “And you kissed him back?”

Drumming your fingers on your jean clad thigh, you rub your palms against the fabric, wiping off the sweat. “Um…”

“Did you kiss him back?” Vince asks, emphasizing each word. “Yes or no?”

You can’t bring yourself to say it. So you don’t.

But no answer is always an answer.

In a flash, Vince is flying out the door, and you’re following just behind him. He throws open the door to his car, turning the key in the ignition, and fishes his phone from his jeans pockets, quickly dialing before holding it to his ear. “Sixx, what’s the address to Slash’s apartment? He still lives with the rest of ‘em, right?”

All the blood rushes to your cheeks when you realize what Vince is about to do. Throwing yourself at him, you try to pry the phone from his ear, but he stiffarms you, keeping you from the phone. “Don’t worry about what I’m going to do, man. Just tell me the damn address, I know you know it. You did coke with the guy for fucks sake.”

“Vince, please don’t do this.”

A wicked gleam shines in his eyes, and you hear Nikki recite the address on the other end of the line. Frantically, you run to your car, throwing open the door, only to see Vince take off down the street.

~~~

When you pull up to the apartment, Vince is quickly climbing the stairs, cracking each knuckle. Grabbing your bag from the passenger’s seat, you stagger out of the car, locking it, before climbing the steps two at a time. “Vince, stop!”

He sprints down the hall, too fast for you as you heave the bag further up your shoulder. You watch as he knocks loud and hard on the door, and when it opens, he forces himself inside the apartment.

You hear Duff’s voice. “What the fuck--.” He peeks his head out, eyes widening when he sees you hobbling over. “Y/N? What is going on?”

By the time you reach the door, Vince has Axl pinned against the wall. From the kitchen, Izzy watches, horrified, as Steven and Slash pull on Vince’s shoulders.

“Stop!” Dropping the duffel by the door, you sprint across the room, pulling the two boys away. The last thing you need is someone getting hurt. “Vince, get off him!”

By some miracle, he lets go.

“You want to tell us what’s going on?” Steven directs to no one in particular, hands on his waist.

“How many times do I need to threaten you, Rose?” Vince asks, nostrils flaring as he glares at the startled redhead. “Because clearly, once wasn’t fucking enough.”

“Vin--.”

“She doesn’t fucking want you,” Vince continues. Axl fidgets under his gaze. “No song, no kiss, and yeah, I fucking know about that, too, will ever make her want you. You’re a pathetic excuse of a man. Your daddy didn’t want you, your step-daddy didn’t want you, and my girlfriend sure as fuck doesn’t want you.”

Your heart stills when Axl’s face falls. His father had always been a touchy subject. Though Axl hadn’t remembered much about his biological dad, there was still trauma hidden deep within as his brain tried to block it out. You were the first person Axl had told about the abuse, as he was a victim of both his biological father and step father. You were there for him then, and just like you promised all those years ago, you’d be here for him now.

Vince backs away and you seize the advantage, positioning your body between them. Letting an open palm fall behind you, your heart bursts with love when another hand slides into yours.

Vince eyes your entwined hands, letting out a shaky laugh. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“We’re done, Vince. You have hurt me for the very last time, and I will not stand here and let you hurt Axl. I simply won’t. Axl is a good man with a good heart and he always has been. And I know he loves me. He’s proved it,” Glancing back over your shoulder, you offer Axl a smile. His eyes are full of love as he watches you, squeezing your hand encouragingly. “And that’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

There’s nothing Vince can say. He can’t fix it. He can’t change. He’s lost you to a better man, a man that knows what he wants, and how to love someone the way they need to be loved.

He looks around the room, fists balled by his sides. Frowns, narrowed eyes, and bared teeth are directed toward him.

From the kitchen, Izzy is the first one to open his mouth. “You have three seconds to get your ass out that door before I call the police.”

With burning eyes, Vince backs away to the door, keeping his gaze locked on your face. “You’re going to regret this.”

He’s met with a confident shake of your head. “No, I don’t think I will.”

At the door, Duff gives Vince a warning stare. The blonde bassist towers over the scrawny blonde singer, looking even more intimidating in his leather apparel. Vince gives him a look before crossing the threshold, and Duff doesn’t hesitate shutting the door in his face.

Tension leaves your shoulders, the boys in the room letting out loud sighs of relief. You turn, lips turning upward. “I heard the song.”

Axl’s face softens. Sliding his hands around the sides of your neck, he pulls you close, foreheads just barely touching. “I figured. And you should know I meant every word.”

You don’t care that there are four boys watching you.

You don’t care that your eyes are shining with unshed tears.

You don’t care that you just ended a three year relationship.

All you care about is the moment when you push forward and kiss the lips in front of you with a fervent need. Arms circle your waist, pulling you deep as lips kiss you deeper. You cling to Axl’s shirt, never wanting to be apart from him again. But you know in your heart he’ll never let you go.

The warmth of his body dissipates when you pull back for a breath, the tips of your fingers grazing over the angles of his jaw, his cheekbones, and slowly coming back to the outline of his lips. They purse together, gently kissing the soft pads of your skin.

“I don’t want to rush anything,” Axl murmurs, and the butterflies in your stomach flutter at the sincerity in his voice.

“Oh, bullshit,” Duff laughs, leaning against the door. “He’d marry you tomorrow if he could.”

“Lovesick fool,” Slash chuckles in agreement, arm resting on Izzy’s shoulder.

“They’re not entirely wrong,” Axl says with a wink. “But the name of the song is Patience for a reason. We have all the time in the world, sugar.”

“I mean, you waited over seven years already, what’s another seven?” Steven jokes heartily.

Hands sliding around Axl’s neck, you pull him toward you once more. He dips to kiss you, and you savor in the feeling. Yeah, you’ll definitely get used to this.

“According to Izzy, you have a few other songs you wrote for me,” you say with a wiggle of your brows. “What do you say you sing them for me?”

In those perfect gray eyes, there’s nothing but love. And you feel it in your heart that you’re beginning to love him, too. Maybe you won’t have to be patient after all. Love is natural, and with Axl, you don’t have to force it.

He whisks you away to his room, serenading you as you lie comfortably in his arms. He knows the songs by heart, and each one is unquestionably unique with different tones and melodies.

Turning in his arms, he continues to sing as you gaze at his face. So calm. So peaceful. So breathtakingly beautiful. And you realize now that somewhere in your heart, you had always loved that little boy on the playground.

And you were in love with the man he became.

166 notes · View notes

onedoesnotsimplywriteafanfic · 3 years

Text

That is what you get for saving the enemies wife

(I do not own the Gif)

Characters: Jax, Juice, Opie, Tig, Chibs, Half Sack/kip, Gemma, mentioned ; HectorSalazar, Clay morrow

Pairing: Prospect Juice X reader, Jax x Sister!reader

Summary: When you walked by the clubhouse of the Calaveras, you notice smoke coming out of the building. After a better look you find out the clubhouse is on fire. You decided at first not to interfere but after hearing someone crying for help you climbed trough a window without hesitation. A women is trapped in the burning room, while you break open the door you try not to get notice because you’re on enemies ground. No one saw you help the women later know as the girlfriend of Hectar Zalasar, only leaving the building trough the window you came.

Zalasar is determent you started the fire and wants revenge. Sending you a package filled with an acid bomb which leaves you blind after opening.

Seven years after and still trying to make the best of your life you grow closer to the new prospect. He is the first one besides your brother you open up to over the incident.

Warnings: none?

Word count: 5,709

Navigating through a room filled with black smoke, I looked for the door. My lungs filled with smoke and my eyes full of tears I struggled to kick in the door. The silhouette of a woman was barely visible. I ran in and helped the woman to her feet. With one arm around her waist and the other I held her arm, which was over my shoulders. At walking pace we walked through the corridors to the main entrance. I let her go a few meters before the entrance. Saying she had to move on herself.

I turned around and walked back to the room from which I had entered. Looking back, the woman tried to identify me but all she saw was the logo on my jacket. The reaper.

With my whole body wrapped in cold sweat, I shot straight up in my bed. Gasping and coughing, I panicked and tried to look around but everything was dark. Tears came to my eyes when I found out it was a dream. After I had calmed down, I put my feet next to my bed. I stroke over my clock on my bedside table for the time, half past two. With a sigh I got to my feet and walked more cautiously to the kitchen.

Navigating through the hall with one hand on the wall, I found my way. In the kitchen, I took a glass from the counter and filled it with water. I felt the cool liquid slide down my throat. I thought back to my dream, I couldn't remember much of it, but from the way I woke up I had an inkling of what it was about.

I had no regrets about the day or the things I did. Maybe if I had kept walking, my life would have looked different now. A second pair of footsteps came down the stairs, faster than mine. They walked into the kitchen and stopped there. ‘’Jax?’’ I asked out loud. The footsteps could only belong to one person, my brother. ‘’I'm here, darlin’. Another nightmare?’’ I nodded slowly. I heard Jax approach, he pulled me closer and put his arms around me. ‘’I wish I could do something about it, I hate to see you like this.’’ With my arms around his waist, I buried myself in his chest. ‘’It will be okay.’’ It came out less believable than I had hoped.

Jax heard the disappointment in my voice. ‘’I wish I could sit with you on the couch, waiting for you to fall asleep again but the club needs me.’’ I pulled away from him and put a hand on his cheek. ‘’Go, I'll see you later today.’’ I squeezed his cheek softly and smiled. With a kiss on my crown he walked to the door, there he stopped and called. "Will you call when you arrive?" After my accident, he was very protective even though he knew I could take care of myself. ‘’I'll be fine, I'll ride with Mom.’’ I shouted after him. The door slammed back into the lock. With a deep sigh, I refilled my glass with water and then found my way to the couch. I made myself comfortable and started a podcast that I listened to until I fell back asleep.

Later that morning, I was awakened by my mother. "Honey wake up, I'm leaving in thirty minutes." Slowly I woke up. I opened my eyes with a dull feeling. Sitting upright, I felt for the TV remote and paused the podcast. I rubbed my eyes extensively but gently. In the kitchen my mother was busy making coffee and as soon as she had her cup she went straight to the club, which meant that I had to hurry.

Feeling through my closet for the right combination, all my clothes were divided into compartments. Pants, T-shirts, tops, cardigans, blouses and even dresses. Separated by small edges at the top of the railing. My outfit for the day was simple, jeans with a T-shirt and flannel blouse. My shoes were down by the door. Before I left my room I grabbed my cane and sunglasses.

Downstairs my mother had a cup of coffee ready for me. ‘’Drink up." She handed me my mug. ‘’Thank you, Jax is already at the clubhouse.’’ I gave her the heads up. ‘’I suspected it.’’ She looked over her shoulder. I stood against the counter and drank my coffee. Listening to the movements my mother made and the vibrations I felt under my feet, I got the feeling that she was stressed. ‘’Is something wrong, Mom?’’ With my mug between both hands, I looked in the direction I thought she was standing. ‘’The garage, there is another customer who is difficult and your father," she stopped mid-sentence. My father was Clay Morrow, Jax was John Teller's son.

My dad ran the Sons of Anarchy, it was sometimes hard for my mom to agree with some of the decisions but she was 100 percent behind him. ‘’Dad knows what he's doing and we have to trust that.’’ I placed my now empty mug on the counter. ‘’I know, and I do.’’ She stopped and thought. ‘’Let's just go.’’ She said finally. I nodded and walked to the door. Before I left the house I put on my ankle boots and slipped into my denim jacket with my Sons vest over it. Matching my brothers style.

The ride to the club was not long, the sound of the engine filling my ears. The wind blew through my hair through the open window, with my face turned out I felt the rising sun warm my face. The radio echoed softly in the background. With my thoughts elsewhere, I didn't realize we were already there. The car had been parked for a few minutes. My mother taps my arm gently. ‘’Hey, we're here.’’ Blinking my eyes, I sat straight up in the chair. ‘’Thanks for the lift.’’ With a smile, I opened the passenger door and got out.

Always parked in the same place, the same way. Parked backwards in the parkingspot so the passenger was facing the club. That way I knew immediately where to go without asking. ‘’If you need me, I'll be in the office.’’ My mother called from her side of the car. ‘’Okay, I'll come by later, I think.’’ She nodded and walked to the office, without my knowing, I continued my way to the entrance of the club.

Inside, Tig, Chibs and Oppie were sitting at the bar, with Half Sack as the bartender. The four men greeted me one by one. ‘’Hey there Doll.’’ Tig was the first to get up and walk over to me. With one hand on my cheek he gave a kiss on my crown. The goatee on his chin tickled my forehead that made me giggle. ‘’Hey Tig.’’ I said with a big smile on my face. Tig and I were always very close, now worse than ever. People sometimes thought we were together, maybe if he had been a little younger or if I was a little older who knows. Age didn't matter, but deep down twenty years was quite a lot. When Jax wasn't around, Tig was the first to stand up for me and be capable of anything.

Chibs sat at the bar and greeted me candidly. ‘’Oi, love.’’ Chibs was barely understood with his accent and he only said two words. For hours I could listen to him, talking about one of his many stories. The way he told it combined with his accent was everything I lived for. He often talked about his life back in Belfast. The place where he grew up in Northern Ireland.

On the other hand, Opie got up and greeted me with a hug. ‘’Hey kiddo.’’ His arms folded around me. ‘’Good to hear from you again.’’ Opie was on a ride with a few other members and was gone for four days. He was like a brother to me. The three of us grew up. It was always Jax, Opie and myself. ‘’I missed you.’’ I whispered into his chest. His grip around me tightened a little. ‘’Missed you too.’’ He whispered back.

The door behind us opened and by the way and sound of how they walked, Jax emerged from the chapel. ‘’Okay, listen, everyone is expected in the chapel.’’ Opie turned to Jax and stepped aside to show that I was there too. ‘’Hey.’’ Jax said with a smile in his voice. ‘’I'll have a very important job for you.’’ He stopped in front of me and put his hands on my shoulders. ‘’Oh, really?’’ I looked at him with a tilted head. ‘’Yes, we are getting a new prospect this afternoon. But there is no one who can put him in his place.’’ I had to chuckle the way Jax conveyed it.

Whenever a new prospect came into the club, we treated them like he was less than us, that way we taught them to stand up for themself. Life in a motor club was not easy, the violence, the blood we had on our hands. ‘’So ...’’ he stretched the words. ‘’I was thinking about you, they need to know who to really fear.’’ I laughed. ‘’Okay, I have to do some shopping before the next lockdown, because someone forgot.’’ I emphasized someone and patted him on the chest. ‘’I had Half,’’ I interrupted before placing the blame on the prospect. ‘’No, it doesn't work that way, it was your job and now I can do it.’’ With one hand on my hip, I looked at him. ‘’Sorry, sister.’’ He spoke honestly. ‘’The things I will do for you.’’ I said with a sigh.

Before I closed the club doors behind me, I heard Jax say. ‘’Kip, go with her.’’ And moments after, Kip, also known as Half Sack, came running out. ‘’Hey, wait a minute.’’ He called as he tried to keep up with me. ‘’It's sweet of you, but I can go shopping alone.’’ A panting Kip walked up next to me. ‘’But who will help you with lifting the groceries, do you know how much you have to take back?’’ enough to feed an entire orphanage. ‘’Fine.’’ I said briefly.

I didn’t want Kip to drive us. It was not because I didn’t trust him in a car but I liked to walk. ‘’What do you think they are talking about back at the club?’’ Kip asked out of nowhere. ‘’I don’t know, if it is important we will know soon enough.’’ I answered his question, shrugging my shoulders. Important or not Jax would tell me anyway.

The club was under some stress with the Niners, the police were on our backs and my dad and Jax weren’t speaking on the same page. There was a lot they could have been talking about. On the occasion I was allowed in the chapel, be present by the meeting and be able to vote. Every other time I was not, Jax would always fill me in later on in the day.

The grocery shopping took for ever, people that were complaining that it took me to long to choose a product or that I hit them with my cain. One man, in his late thirties, was ready to start a fight and I was having none of it. Getting more and more angry, not of the fact that he accused me of anything because of my blindness but of my vest.

He was mansplaining me that women didn’t belong in the club and that we were only good for getting beer and sex. It took everything in me not to hit him but I got close. Kip did had to hold me back before I did. ‘’All I am saying is that it women belong in the kitchen not in the club itself and don’t get me started on women wearing the vest.’’ before I handed Kip my cain I checked where the men was standing. ‘’Hold this.’’ I said and let go of I it and took a step forward.

Kip who knew me and what I was capable of, jumped into action and wrapped his arms around my waist holding me back. ‘’If I were you, you should shut up and leave. Blind or not she has a mean right hook.’’ Kip warned the man. The man looked at me, but before he could protest he was asked to leave by the staff of the grocery shop. ‘’I am so sorry ma’am.’’ The young lady of the staff said. I smiled nicely at her. ‘’It’s oké.’’ And continued looking for everything else we needed.

After paying and double checking if we had everything we headed back to the club. Kip was carrying more then he could and I had two bags. ‘’Don’t you think we may have bought to much?’’ he had difficulty walking due the extra wight. ‘’No, with those animals, you can never have enough.’’ I thought back to a couple lockdowns back, we had enough to last two weeks. One week in and the kitchen was empty.

The prospect arrived just after Kip and I had left. The young man in his late twenties of Puerto Rican descent with a mohawk and head tattoos reported to my mother in her office. A soft knock could be heard on the door. ‘’Come in.’’ Gemma called from within the room. Carefully he opened the door and stepped into the small office. Gemma turned herself in her chair and looked at the young man. ‘’I'm looking for Jax Teller. Do you know where I can find him?’’ He immediately got into business. ‘’And who may you be?’’ She asked uninterested, ignoring his question. ‘’My name is Juan Ortiz, I'm the new prospect.’’ He continued talking.

Gemma looked him up and down. ‘’Great.’’ she said and stood up. ‘’Sit’’ She said as if he was a dog and walked out. He did what she said and took a seat in one of the chairs next to the desk. ‘’Don’t touch anything.’’ Gemma said before walking out the door, heading to the clubhouse.

We entered the parking lot of the club and headed inside. ‘’Maybe we should have taken the car.’’ I said as the realization hit me. My feet were sore and I felt bad for Kip. ‘’Need a drink?’’ I asked him, placing the bags on the pool table.

Kip placed his bags on the table as well and made a relieving sound. ‘’I can’t feel my arms anymore, and I am not allowed to drink, yet.’’ he said, pouting. It was one of Jax many weird rules, prospects don’t drink from the bar. ‘’Oh toughen up, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Besides, I am the one who offers.’’ Making my way behind the bar.

Neither one of us knew my mother was in the chapel as well until they walked out. Kip was sitting on one of the bar stools and I stood behind the bar. Both a glass of whiskey in hand. The door opened and every one walked out one by one. First my mother, followed by my brother and then the rest of the group.

The first thing Jax noticed was Kip drinking. ‘’What did I tell you,’’ he started but I stopped him. ‘’Shut up and let him have it. He deserved it.’’ I said trying to point him Jax his direction. Kip crabbed my arm and pointed it more to my left. Now I was pointing at Jax. Some chuckles filled the room, mostly of the others while Jax stood with an amused expression. I was the only one who could talk back to him like that.

After a good laugh my mother asked Jax to follow her. The others joined us at the bar for a drink. ‘’You know my poison, doll.’’ Tig said seductively and winked, while adding a sound effect. So I would now he winked, not that I wasn’t already thinking that.

I grabbed a bottle of beer from the fridge. Everything was labeled with braille, the shelves, the bottles, all to make my life easier. Placing the beer on the bar and before I could let go Tig already took it from me. ‘’Thank you, dear.’’ he said with the utmost sweet voice he could muster.

While we had fun in the clubhouse, talking and drinking, Jax walked back to the office with Gemma. Inside Juan still sitting on the chair, looking like a lost puppy. He noticed the two walking in and stood up immediately. ‘’I’m,’’ he started while holding out his hand, but Jax cut him off. ‘’Don’t care follow me.’’ Jax said and turned around to walk back to the clubhouse.

Every new prospect was treated like a no body when they first got here. The sooner you grew a pair and stood up against them the sooner you got treated as an equal. They both entered the room and all the heads turned to them. I stood still leaning against the bar looking ahead of me.

Neither of the guys spend much attention to Jax and kept talking. The two walked over to the bar, standing close to it to hear their conversation. ‘’One rule, don’t piss off the lady.’’ Jax said while pointing to me, knowing I could hear them. Juan followed his gaze and looked at me. ‘’I don’t see,’’ he started and a smirk played along my lips. Their it was, the one thing I hoped he would say. ‘’Well neither can I.’’ I said as the bitch I can be.

Everyone else tried to hold back their laughter. ‘’I’m sorry?’’ he asked a small panic in his voice, not realizing I was blind. ‘’What did he say about not pissn’ of the lady’’ Chibs said in the most Scottish way possible. The boy looked horrified. ‘’Well? What can’t you ‘’see’’?’’ I asked with quotation marks when I said see.

I looked in their directions, waiting for him to speak. ‘’I don’t see how I could piss of such lovely lady.’’ He stuttered a bit. Licking my lips I thought of what to say next, but I thought we had already scared him enough for now. ‘’Don’t worry, you don’t piss me off that easily.’’ I flashed him a soft smile.

But not everyone agreed with my statement because Tig snorted loudly. ‘’Watch it Trager, before I put real poison in your drink next time.’’ I shot him a death glare as I put down my sunglasses. He knew I didn’t mean any of it, and couldn’t help but laugh. ‘’You love me to much to have me dead, doll.’’ I shook my head and laughed, knowing it was true.

I turned back to Jax and Juan. ‘’Please take a seat.’’ I gestured to a hopefully empty stool. Jax excused him self and walked back into the chapel as his phone ringed. Juan took a seat and I pored him a glass of orange juice. ‘’Here you go.’’ I placed it on the bar and another fit of snickers and laughter erupted from the others. ‘’Orange juice?’’ He questioned.

Leaning with my elbows on the bar I turned to him. ‘’Got a problem with that?’’ I tried to look at him straight but failed, I ended up looking past him. ‘’No, not at all.’’ he said careful not knowing how els to respond. ‘’Good, so tell me, what is your name?’’ A playful smile lingered around my lips, the boy in front of me sounded to innocent and brought a different type of myself to the surface.

For a strange reason I felt comfortable around him, even tough we’ve just met. ‘’Juan Ortiz.’’ He held out his hand and waited for me to shake it. ‘’Yeah, we ain’t gonna call you that for ever.’’ Standing back up straight and ignoring his outstretched hand. Here most of us had a nick name or something els then our real name to go by. Most men just called me pet names in staid of my name.

Juan looked at me, more like staring at me. ‘’What is your problem?’’ He blurred out, realizing what he had said once it was to late. ‘’Excuse me?’’ I said turning my head once more in his direction. This time I meant being bitchy. The boys went silent and I could hear someone walking towards my side of the bar. ‘’Well you see,’’ I had to interrupt him then and there. ‘’That is my fucking problem, I CAN’T.’’ I said angry and ripped off my sunglasses tossing them god knows where.

I looked at him, my face exposed to him. It was the one thing I was insecure about, my eyes. The were pearl withe and glossy, but the skin around my eyes was red and burned. A gasp left his lips and he was lost of words. ‘’That’s what I thought.’’ I said and walked away, nearly tripping over someones feet. ‘’Sweetheart.’’ Tig tried to hold me back, he was standing behind me and it were his feet I tripped over. ‘’Don’t.’’ I said with a trembling voice.

I brushed past him and walked outside, forgetting my cain behind the bar. ‘’I.. I uhm didn’t know.’’ Juan started but didn’t know how to continue. ‘’It was kinda obvious, you could have seen her scaring, even whit sunglasses and there is braille everywhere.’’ Opie stated the obvious. Juan began to feel more guilty by the second. ‘’I should talk to her.’’ he started and looked for my sunglasses to give them back to me. ‘’I don’t think that’s the best idea.’’ Jax said, standing in the door frame leading to the chapel.

He walked over to Juan and took the glasses from him. ‘’Don’t take it personal. Losing her sight took a toll on her.’’ For the first time ever to a prospect, Jax spoke in a soft and empathic way. ‘’She wasn’t always blind?’’ He looked up at Jax, registering what he had said. ‘’No, and that is not my story to tell.’’ With a sigh Jax walked outside looking for me. Already knowing where I would be.

We both shared a lot of things, from music taste to disliking the same people and even our hiding place when things get to complicated. It was on the roof of the office, at first it was scary to climb the latter but now it didn’t bother me any more.

Hearing the familiar screeching of the latter I knew someone was coming up. A while back Jax had brought up two chairs to sit on so he took a seat next to me. ‘’What is wrong?’’ he asked worried. ‘’Everything.’’ I said in between sobs. Without saying another word he pulled me closer in to a tight hug. ‘’I didn’t mean to lash out to him like that.’’ I said after a while still crying my eyes out.

Somedays everything got to much to handle and I needed a good cry. ‘’He knows.’’ we sat like this till I completely calmed down. ‘’So, wanna tell me what happened at the store today?’’ I shook my head. ‘’Not really, it’s not worth it.’’ it really wasn’t I could take care of myself. ‘’Alright.’’ he said quietly.

Jax gave back my sunglasses and cain, we were about to head back inside when he was once again intercepted by the ringing of his phone. He looked at the caller ID and put the phone away. ‘’He can wait, family is more important.’’ He threw his arm around my shoulder. We entered the clubhouse and I took a seat on the cough.

The rest of the day went by rather quickly. Jax had yet another club thing to discus and my mother was also making over hours, so I asked Tig to drive me home. That night another nightmare corrupted my sleep.

Fire, everything was on fire. The walls, the floors. The heat alone was burning my skin. The smoke filling my lungs. Tears filled eyes, trying to find my way to the screaming women.

Finding her wasn’t the difficult part, it was getting out unnoticed what would be tricky. My mouth covered with my sleeve, searching for a way out. Climbing out the window I came in from.

With a gasp I jolted up straight. Panting heavily, crying softly. Cold sweat covered my body once again. Never had I nightmares of the accident that caused me to lose my vision, it was always what I had done to deserve it.

The nightmares got worse and worse each night. It would be seven years ago, in a couple days and the days leading to that anniversary, always took a toll on my mental health. At night I didn’t sleep and the day I tried to distract myself by bonding with Juan, who I kept calling Juicy or Juice. All because I still give him a glass of juice when we gather around the bar for drinks.

Not only did I feel worse each day but I looked worse too. Walking into the clubhouse I was greeted by Juice. ‘’He… oef you look like the dead.’’ he joked and kissed my cheek. ‘’Careful, before you are son.’’ Chibs said with a laugh in voice. I let out a tired laugh. ‘’Don’t worry, you are to adorable to kill.’’ I patted his chest before making my way to the cough and sitting down.

It was a slow day until Jax called everyone on a run. ‘’Alright, we are needed by our brothers in the town next door, so saddle up.’’ Jax looked around the room and saw sitting on the coughs with my knees to my chest and my chin resting on them. ‘’Juice,’’ he started waiting for the prospect to look up. ‘’I need you to stay here. I need some one here to look after my sister.’’ He too looked at me. ‘’Of course.’’ he said, at the time not knowing why it was so important for Jax.

I was so in my own thoughts that I didn’t catch a word of what had been said. I felt the couch sink in next to me. ‘’Hey, darlin’.’’ Jax said softly, placing a hand on my arm. ‘’Uh?’’ I asked turning my head to wards him. ‘’Did you heard what I just said?’’ he asked and I shook my head. ‘’The boys and I are leaving. Juice is staying here with you.’’ He explained.

I was to tired to argue so I nodded. ‘’Be careful.’’ I said as I hugged my brother. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me as close as he could to his chest. ‘’When am I not?’’ He jokingly asked, causing me to laugh. ‘’Don’t get me started.’’ I had a list of the times he was everything but careful.

Every one got an hour to go home and pack, before meeting back at the club. Now everyone was ready to leave. Juice and me stood outside. I never let them leave without a hug. Once I couldn’t hear the roaring of their motors, we headed back inside.

Together we sat at the cough. ‘’What do you want to do?’’ Juice asked me, a little nervous. I could feel him bouncing his leg. ‘’Can we just listen to music. I don’t feel like doing anything.’’ I said between yawing. ‘’Sure.’’ he said and put on a playlist.

It didn’t last long before I fell asleep. My head fell on his shoulder and I tried to make myself comfortable. Juice looked down at me and smiled. He too noticed how tired I was lately, he tried to make me talk about it but I didn’t want to.

Juice tried to lay down on the cough without waking me. He took of my sunglasses and lay them on the table. Together we lay on the coughs, wrapped in each others arms. First it was a peaceful slumber but soon was corrupted by nightmares. I started to twitch slightly and murmur in my sleep.

Not knowing what was going on, Juice looked down on me again. ‘’Are you oke?’’ he asked quietly, but not getting a respond. The nightmare got only worse by the second and soon enough I screamed out in terror before waking up.

For a second I didn’t know where I was. Juice got up too and grabbed my hand. ‘’It was just a dream.’’ he said in a soft tone, trying to calm me down. ‘’What ever happened can not hurt you here.’’ He pulled me into a hug and held me till I stopped crying. ‘’Please talk to me about it. I hate to see you like this.’’ He wiped away the tears from my face.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded. ‘’Alright, I will tell you what has been haunting me for seven years.’’ It took me a significant amount of courage to say those words. Of course everyone who was there that day knew what happened but I never talked about it with no one except for my brother. As we sat back down on the cough I started my story, reliving it as I spoke.

Seven years ago, I walked trough rival territory, fully aware that I shouldn’t have been there. As I was walking down the street, the smell of smoke filled my nostrils. Looking around the area I noticed smoke rising in the air. I followed its trail back to the source and saw that it came from the Calaveras club house.

With my head low, I walked trough the crowd that had gathered in the street. Once I was clear from the crowd I picked up my paste, knowing I needed to get the hell away from there.

Walking past the burning clubhouse I heard a women screaming for help. It pained me to hear her scream, begging for someone to save her. Till this day I still don’t know why none of the firefighters went back inside to save her. With myself in battle of what to do, I either lost or won, but I went inside trough a back window.

Following the woman’s scream, covering my mouth with my sleeve to prevent smoke inhalation. The screams came from behind a closed door, it was either locked or blocked. Kicking in the door, was the only possible way to enter. Black smoke filled the room and I could barely see the woman in front of me.

I ran towards her and helped her up. With one arm around her waist and the other holding on her arm that laid over my shoulder, we made our way to the door. The closer we got to the exit, the more screams from the outside I could hear.

Mainly I heard the screams of Hector Salazar. ‘’My wife is still in there!’’ So they knew that she was missing. I brought her as close to the exit as I could, she had to walk out the last few meters. No one could know I was there.

Carefully pushing the women to the exit I said. ‘’You got this, just keep moving.’’ She nodded and held herself steady against the wall. ‘’You got this.’’ I said again before turning around to make my way out trough the same window I came in from.

I thought that she had already turned around before I did, but she didn’t and saw my vest. She saw the Sons logo on my back and she tried to tell her husband that I saved her. But once he heard that the sons were involved he made the conclusion I was also the one who started the fire. And he wanted revenge.

My voice was horse from crying and talking. Juice held my hands the entire time I talked, to let me now he was still there. He would squeeze my hand every now and then to let me know he was still paying attention. ‘’But that still doesn’t explain you losing your sight.’’ He noted, after I was silent for a couple minutes.

It made me laugh weakly. ‘’You are so impatient sometimes.’’ I said with a small giggle in my voice. ‘’First he showed up at the clubhouse, threatening me. He had me followed by his men to harm me. But when I didn’t left the clubhouse anymore in fear of my safety, he had to get creative.’’ My heart was beating way to fast and breathing was uneven.

We sat around the bar having a laugh and a drink when Tig brought in a package. For me. He placed in front of me on the bar. ‘’For you, doll.’’ he said, kissing the top of my head, that being the first time to see me that day.

Not remembering I had order something, I examined the box. For as far I could see there was nothing suspicious about it so I opened it. As I opened it and looked inside something exploded and a wet substance burned its way onto my face.

Turning my head to my hands I continued. ‘’It was an acid bomb, not big enough to take me out. But to leave a message. That is how I lost my sight.’’ New tears filled my eyes and I didn’t fought to hold them back.

I let them stain my face, I let everything that I had bottled up the past seven years out. ‘’I never should have been walking in that neighbourhood in the first place. Cause this is what you get for saving the enemies wife.’’ I faced Juice, pointing at my face. ‘’I hate waking up, every day, not being able to see the faces of every one I care about. I hate my self,’’ Juice interrupted me by placing his hand on my cheek.

He tilled my head slightly up so I faced him head on. ‘’You saved a life, she is alive because of your bravery. Never hate yourself, cause to me, you are perfect.’’ I was lost of words and couldn’t help but smile. I hugged him once more and never wanting to let go.

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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liron-ao3 · 3 years

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Timestamp #1 to Mine to hold

Fake heat

Magnus hasn't felt well since he woke up this morning. His joints are aching, his scars are itching, and he feels sick all over. But there is no use. He planned to paint the nursery a beautiful mint green, and he wants all the fumes to be out of the room when Rafael moves in come Friday.

Their little boy. Magnus can't believe the time has finally come for them to become a family. He's nervous and elated. He manages to push the doubts away. Well, most of the time. That he will raise him together with Alec surely is the only thing that doesn't make him want to revoke the adoption process every six hours or so.

He knows he's ready. He truly is. His therapy sessions have been reduced to once a month. His life is not all rainbows and sunshine, but it is his life—their life—and the ghost of Valentine leaves them alone most of the time.

The media interest has subsided, too, with Magnus' name solely popping up in subordinate clauses whenever there is progress in the legislation regarding the status of omegas in society.

Magnus still loves seeing his name in the papers and signing contracts on his own, every single time shooting a shiver through his body. With the emancipation letter came the option to choose if he wanted to keep Alec's family name or go back to his mother's. The decision-making had blessed him with a few sleepless nights. But when he learnt that future children could carry both their fathers' names, the decision was easily made.

Magnus wipes sweat off his forehead. No one in the northern hemisphere should transpire in February. But he does, from an easy paint job. He feels disgusting and can't wait for the shower he'll take after cleaning up the room.

"Magnus?" Alec's voice comes from the hallway.

"Rafe's room," he shouts and can't suppress a smile.

Rafael Santiago Lightwood-Bane. Not for the first time, tears prick Magnus' eyes from the sheer force of emotions, thinking about his little boy. Or maybe it's hormones? His instincts kicking in? Who knows? He loves Rafe so much already. The now eleven months old orphan had stolen both their hearts the first time they saw him in the orphanage in Buenos Aires. And now, he will find a home with them and with it two fathers who will love him unconditionally.

"Hey," Alec says when he enters the room. "I wanted to help." He presses his lips gently on Magnus'.

"I wanted to surprise you," he replies into the kiss.

Alec smiles at him. "It looks great!" He cups Magnus' neck with his long fingers and his relaxed features morph into a concerned frown. "You feel warm. Are you coming down with something?"

Magnus shrugs and bunches up the plastic sheet that protected the wooden floor. He regards the room that used to be his. Soft light shines through the newly installed window. Magnus can't wait to move the furniture in.

He sways a little when he straightens, and Alec steadies him. "Maybe," he answers morosely. "I'm sweating as if I trained."

"Did you eat something?"

Magnus shakes his head. "I wasn't hungry."

Alec furrows his brow even deeper. Magnus always likes to eat. It's one of his joys after years of starvation and the lack of it a clear sign that something's wrong.

"You smell very sweet today," Alec states and Magnus' eyes shoot up at that.

"No, not again," he whines. "My last was—what?—seven weeks ago? I'm done with these fake heats! And our baby boy comes. There's still so much to do."

Alec pulls him into his arms and guides him to his neck, his scent rising soothingly into Magnus' nose.

"Everything he needs is his Papa and Daddy, our nest, and all the love we can give him. We have enough formula and diapers for a month, the clothes are already washed. The crib and the changing table and all the other stuff can wait."

Magnus nods against his shoulder, thankful for Alec to keep him grounded.

"Come on. Let's get something into your stomach, and then we'll take a shower. What do you say?" Magnus takes a deep breath and nods again.

Alec brings Magnus a protein bar, the only food his mate can really stomach through his fake heats. They had quite a few in the last two years to deal with—never predictable, always a bit frustrating, given that they never turned into a real one, never triggered a heat-rut in Alec. They are a painful reminder of what Magnus has lost, despite all the good things he experienced since he became Alec's omega. At least, the waves are becoming shallow quickly, are easily satiated, and the fake heat usually lasts no longer than two days. Enough time to do the laundry before little Rafe moves in.

Alec undresses Magnus with trained hands. He knows every single of his mate's especially sensitive spots by now and avoids touching them as much as he can. Then he guides him under the shower and smiles when the lukewarm spray from above elicits a soft moan from his omega.

Alec lets his inner alpha run free. By now, he knows that he has a caring wolf that longs to make his mate feel good under any circumstances, but especially in situations like these when Magnus' biology kicks in.

Alec massages shampoo into Magnus' scalp, lathers his body with neutral soap, and presses kisses against his neck, just like Magnus likes it best. He gives himself a quick wash and dries Magnus off with the fluffiest towel they could find in a specialist shop for heat supplies. The scars are much more sensitive during the heats. It had taken them five cycles to find an ointment that numbed the itch enough for Magnus not to want to scratch himself until he draws blood.

Alec leads Magnus to their nest and massages the balm into the sensitive skin. Magnus sighs into the pillows when the numbing and cooling effect sets in. After an obligatory sports drink, they finally cuddle up and take a nap. They'll need the rest for the first wave that is always the hardest.

***

"Alpha."

The sound alarms Alec instantly. It had taken Magnus quite some time to learn that giving in to his inner omega during these fake heats is a sure thing to make the whole ordeal easier. And if his wolf wants to present his belly or his ass and call his alpha just that, so be it.

"I'm here, my little omega," Alec coos.

Magnus' omega loves when Alec talks to him like that, lovingly, not depreciatory. It also likes his strong, sure hands on his body and the relief that comes with his perfect knot. Although Magnus likes these things out of heat, too. But who cares who's in charge now? He hands it over to Alec anyway.

"Need you," he begs shamelessly.

"I'm here, love. How do you want me?"

Magnus rolls on his back with great effort, his whole body aching, his skin dampened with a sheen of sweat. He's thankful that they are still naked from the shower. Waking up like this in his pyjamas is never fun, the wet fabric sticking to the burning skin like glue. Having his heat start in the middle of his shopping, neither. Lucky for Magnus, he doesn't smell like heat for other alphas. Another perk in his book.

Alec smiles at him, and for a long moment, time seems to stand still. Magnus is so in love with the alpha, who treats him like something precious, but never as weak or fragile.

The too-familiar pang of sadness resonates in his chest. Yes, he'll be a father in three days, but he will never grow a baby in his body, will never give birth, or nurse it. Usually, he's fine with it, but never at the beginning of his fake heats. Damn hormones!

Alec crawls between his legs. "Touch or no?"

The two mates are such a well-oiled machine by now and it shows. Magnus assesses the state of his body. He's more sensitive this time, the scar tissue on his abdomen still itching despite the balm.

"No," he says.

Alec nods and shuffles closer, pulling Magnus' butt onto his spread knees. He gives his cock a few strokes to get to full hardness and slides into Magnus with little effort. The miracle of omega biology.

Alec glides in and out of him with as little contact with Magnus' angry red skin as possible. He's a master of it by now. He smiles down at Magnus. "You're so good for me," he whispers and his omega chuckles.

"I'm doing nothing," he jokes and elicits an even wider smile from his alpha. Alec doesn't remember when they had this dialogue for the first time, but it has become a tradition.

"It's getting worse," Magnus hisses, the heat setting his whole body aflame. He hates this. It isn't how a heat should be. Yes, unease is normal, but this simply hurts. There is no passion from his side, no lust or urge to be intimate. They have sex because they know that it will ease the pain. And because they love each other, of course.

Alec could never let Magnus suffer, even though they learnt that the pain would subside on its own even without them having sex—thanks to an impromptu heat when Alec was in Los Angeles for a book reading.

Alec doubles his efforts, and his knot swells soon enough. He takes Magnus' cock into his hand, and after a few strokes, Magnus' body locks up, and he comes all over himself, quickly followed by his alpha.

They come down from their heights rather quickly—Magnus because his skin is still burning despite the fever slowly coming down, Alec because he's already in caring alpha mode again, propping up Magnus' body as best as possible with pillows so that they can stay like this until his knot comes down.

Magnus smiles up at him tiredly. "You're such a good alpha," he praises, and Alec's wolf dances a happy cha-cha-cha in his reptilian brain.

He shakes his head in denial. And yes, Magnus lost many things in his life, fought hard to get some of them back. But this here? Alec? That was simply destiny, and he thanks the angels every day that they brought them together.

Because even through the pain, the fever, and the dizziness, he can feel the love radiating off Alec and through their bond. And it smoothes out the worst edges. Alec's presence doesn't make everything good, but every moment so much better.

"I love you, Alexander," he whispers.

"I love you, too," Alec replies and sends him a kiss through the air that lands like a weightless butterfly on his lips. Magnus closes his eyes, and the last conscious thought he has before he slides into sleep is that fake heats aren't all that bad if you spend them with the man you love.

#malec fandom #malec fic #malec fanfic #malec fanfiction #omegaverse #omega magnus bane #alpha alec lightwood #alpha beta omega #past abuse #infertility #heat

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sterys · 3 years

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Behind the Beskar

Genre: Romance, Angst

Pairing: Din Djarin/Reader

Cross-posted on AO3

Behind the Beskar

You’d just joined the Guild and this was your first job.

You were living on borrowed money in a seedy little flat in the one of the worst neighbourhood of Nevarro. You had to pay the rent (not cheap), the electricity (cheaper), the running water (hot water was included, thank hot lava planet), the speeder repairs, the monthly salary to your elderly parents’ maid who helped them through old age, a system away from you.

You used to lend your accountancy skills to Governors from outer regions, help them manage their bases and finances. Now, with the Empire fallen, you struggled to make ends meet. The Rebel alliance had centralized every financial operation, scattered the old consolidation team and you were made redundant at the young age of twenty-seven.

Every accountant and financial controller working under the Empire had been found guilty of financial fraud and theft by the Rebels right after the Battle of Endor, so you had hastily embarked on a ship to leave the Core Worlds and never return.

In Nevarro, nobody cared about where you came from, or what you did for a living, as long as you had credits, and the wits to keep them with you at all times when on trips to the cantina. You were able to sustain the lifestyle for a month, but one day you woke up feeling so cold that you thought your toes would fall off your feet, stomach rumbling loudly, and you decided that enough was enough.

You went straight back to the cantina, barely paying attention to your surroundings. You were intent on paying off this debt. Everything went smoothly enough, considering that it was obvious that the man from the Guild expected you to die on your first mission, and you could only agree with him, but fuck, this was a ride-or-die situation. Nobody wanted to hire a former Empire accountant. Things would have been different, were you a trooper or a starfighter pilot, because people always needed those skills. But you had spent the last five years forgetting both honesty and the Full Disclosure principle, so that did not go well in your CV. Fuck the Empire and their margin-reducing Death Stars.

You chose the best-paying job, not out of talent, but out of necessity. You returned home, burying yourself under the woollen covers, puck in one hand and the city’s last year financial records printed out on yellowed paper in the other. You stifled a yawn, looking lazily at the pages.

Something was wrong here with the numbers, and you bet it had everything to do with your new bounty.

The Guild guy had explained that somebody stole something from somewhere in the city, which was not great intel, but this somebody had a contact inside the townhall, which was intel. As soon as the theft had been discovered, the contact had disappeared from the surface of the planet, but rumour had it that he was just low-profile for the moment. He was said to carry three blasters with him at all time and use two akimbo.

Sure, you didn’t have the weapons or the military background other people in the Guild had; but you had your wits and an eye for spotting anomalies in figures. Years of camouflaging fraud had taught you how to spot one very quickly – and yes! Here it was, the gap between income and cash flow. Somebody here was getting some hidden cash from the city’s council as there was no way they could still buy Empire stock with simple credit coins or chips after the fall of the Empire.

Financial records were a mine of information if you knew what to look for. You compared the statements – yes, a new building had also been bought at the beginning of the standard year, roughly at the same time as the strange disappearance of Mr. Bounty. And you happened to know where this building was. You lived in it. No wonder the rent was so high!

You emerged from the covers satisfied with your studies. But you had yet to devise a plan to eject the tenant under your feet while not crashing your own little flat. Maybe you could try from the sewers under? You could pretend to take out the bin tonight and –

Crack!

The bedroom door flew out of its hinges in a cloud of black smoke. Coughing loudly, eyes closed, you plunged to the floor, cursing your bad luck. How could your neighbour possibly know that you’d chosen his puck? You crawled under the bed while the smoke dissipated, hugging the puck and the soundproof bag containing the fob. The fob! – it was pulsing red, but no more than before. How odd, you thought, that someone would give me a faulty fob that doesn’t work even though the bounty’s boots are three inches from my face.

Heavy brown boots did in fact stood just before your eyes. You pressed a hand to your mouth, feeling sweat running down your back.

The boots shuffled on the dusty floor. You held your breath. Suddenly the bed above you disappeared, then came crashing down on the window. The room became dark, the mattress hiding the morning sunlight.

You lifted your face, head buzzing with panic. And then you saw him. You couldn’t miss him, really. The tall Mandalorian in a battered armour and shiny helmet. He towered over you, and despite you lying on the floor and having a very distorted perspective, you could tell that he was huge.

Fob glowing an angry red in one hand, and a blaster pointed at you in the other, he was a dangerous man. Before your eyes, around his calves, were enormous bullets that could only fit the rifle strapped in his back. You could tell he was a true fighter by the state of his chest plate: old, the paint wearing off, bullet cavities marring the surface. Something was not right, you decided, observing his strong shoulders. You read in his stance that he was an adept at hand combat. Hand, mid-range blaster and heavy sniper rifle. He looked down at you. One gloved hand was stained with blaster residue. The other glove was clean – or at least as clean as orange could be on a rocky planet.

“I can bring you in warm –“

“Wait!” you cried out. “You are not the bounty I’m looking for.”

This man obviously used only one blaster, not two. You could almost see the cogs turn in his brain when you saw his T-shaped visor gazing at the general direction of your own fob.

“Who are you?” His voice was raspy.

“I’m a bounty hunter,” you replied, your voice shaking a little. Admittedly, you hadn’t done a lot of bounty hunting yet but it did sound better than accountant.

He didn’t answer but you heard a small huff of static.

“I believe the bounty is the tenant living one floor under me,” you said hesitantly.

Immediately, he turned on his heels and ran out the room, leaving you aghast. You heard his surprisingly soft footsteps going down the stairs and the sound of a door being blasted off.

You sat down, heart pounding in your chest. Wow. Chances were that you’d never be able to live here again. Better flee now than miss the chance of escaping the kriffin building. You grabbed your ID, clean underwear, a big brown cloak, a bottle of water and the implant. You put on the combat boots one deputy statutory auditor had gifted to you before being murdered by the one and only Lord Vader, and set off to the stairs.

You put your foot on the first step timidly. Bang. The unmistakeable sound of blaster fire. Smoke rose in the air as it became acrid and hard to breathe.

That’s when you panicked. You turned around and ran towards the window, pushing aside the lumpy mattress and curling your fingers into a punch. Then you hit the glass as hard as you could. It came down crashing down, shards falling everywhere. You held your breath. You jumped.

You landed. You landed bad, and it hurt. Oh, kriff. You’d fortunately landed on your feet but lost your balance and your right ankle ached a little. It would probably swell up in the next couple of minutes but for the moment you needed to get out of here pretty fast.

Your stuff had fallen off your bag when you’d landed in the dirt-filled back alley. You quickly gathered your clothes, put the dust bag over your shoulder and half walked, half ran to the freeport, wincing at every step you took.

The buildings were blurry, and you could only see the shadows of the people you passed by. Was it a concussion? You ran a hand through your hair, half expecting to see blood, but you only gathered dust on your fingers. The pain in your ankle had risen during your walk, and by the time you were on the main road you were limping pitifully.

You reached the cantina for the second time in one day. This was both the point of no-return and the place where everything had begun. There were tears in your eyes, tears for this city that you’d have to leave so suddenly after grinding so hard. You were never happy here, you never made it and you struggled till the very end. On your left you saw the stand where an old man sold coarse fabrics; you’d purchased a few to repair your own clothes in the direst times. You recognized the woman brushing her hair through the top window of that one dirty, dusty building: she’d helped you find a place to sleep on your first day here.

You felt a hand on your shoulder. Shivering, you turned around. The Mandalorian was standing just behind you. You looked at him through your tears, understanding the hurry in his stance. He didn’t say anything, but you grabbed your bag and followed his long strides in the darker alleys to the space port.

Your ankle hurt but you kept running. You kept your head low, not wanting to be recognized by another Guild member. This was your first bounty, and you’d already colluded with a fellow hunter. You weren’t so sure if this was legal or not, and you were not eager to find out.

In any case, the closer to the space port you were, the better it was for your skin. You needed to lie low for a while; people here noticed blaster shots easily and you didn’t want your name to be linked with a bounty.

Your throat was burning from volcanic dust and pain flared in your ankle at every step, but you carried on. Everything was still blurry but you could see the Mandalorian keeping a steady pace a few steps before you. He never turned away to make sure you were still following, but you guessed he could hear your laboured breathing from where he was.

Now the next steps were: finding a ship that left soon, not do anything for a moment, then… Now was not the time to think about a potential “then”.

His ship was a military cargo ship, made to carry soldiers in remote outposts during the war. It was battered from battle and dusty from whatever planet it had been to before. You hesitated for a second.

“Is this where we part ways?” you asked, your voice wavering.

“Do you need transport out of here?” The Mandalorian asked gruffly.

When it became clear to him that you did, he ushered you inside and rushed to close the ramp.

You stopped to look around. That was when you realized that the Mandalorian was carrying a big black body bag on his shoulder, and he was heaving a little from the weight.

He threw the body on the ground then retrieved a pair of handcuffs from somewhere inside the metal wall. Intrigued, you looked closer. There was a strange system of metal chains suspended from the top of the wall that ended in two hooks. You understood their purpose when Mando attached the hooks to the handcuffs and pulled a lever, raising the body to eye level.

The bounty was a middle-aged human man, black haired, smartly dressed for Nevarro. His head was hanging, lip split open, and a nasty bruise was spreading on his right eyelid.

“Dead?” You murmured, a little frightened.

“No,” the Mandalorian answered. “Get back.”

You scrambled back to the end of the ship, clutching your tightly. Sharp lighting reflecting on the beskar helmet, the Mandalorian looked very in the small hull of this ship.

His movements precise, he clicked a few buttons on the control panel and suddenly the body was frozen in carbonite.

You let out the breath you just realized you had been holding. You shivered a little.

“Better get used to it,” the Mandalorian said, making his way to the cockpit.

You followed him quietly, strapping yourself in the passenger seat when he told you to. You closed your eyes as you felt the engines roar and the ship soar into the grey sky, the heavy clouds, then the blackness of the galaxy. You were afraid, but there was also a strange feeling of excitement coursing through your veins. The Nevarro days were behind you.

You woke up, feeling blindly around you. Judging by the absence of light in the ship, it was still the middle of the night on Scarif. Also judging by the soreness of your muscles, you’d only managed to sleep for a couple of hours before the clamp soup you’d swallowed with abandon the evening before had reached your bladder.

Leaving the (relative) comfort of your covers, you got up, reaching towards the nearest wall to support yourself. Tiptoeing around, you tried to make as little sound as possible. You stifled a yawn, almost lost your balance, and cursed loudly. So much for quietness.

After half a dozen more yawns, another string of curses and a bruised toe (you’d unfortunately collided with what felt like an enormous durasteel wall plate) you found your way to the ‘fresher. You relieved yourself and washed your hands – they looked so thin; you really could use some more food – then stepped out of the unit.

That was when you heard it.

A very male groan followed by heaving breathing that did nothing to cover the distinctive sound of flesh on flesh.

You stopped dead in your tracks.

You’d forgotten to shut off the ‘fresher light. It was a flickering old light that made your face look like it had been out of the sun for two decades, but it was enough to show you that the enormous durasteel wall plate you’d stumbled into was in fact a thigh guard. And said thigh guard was still attached to its wearer but was not protecting anything except Mando’s ankles.

He was holding himself in one hand, helmet still on. You stuttered:

“Wow. Errm, I mean – I’m sorry.”

Not waiting for an answer, you took a step backward, closed your eyes and made a hasty retreat.

You lay in the cot, waiting to fall back asleep. You’d felt so tired just seconds before and now sleep was eluding you. The image was seared in your brain.

It had been long since you’d had a good fuck. You’d been building up so much financial stress that you hadn’t even found your release by yourself in months. You guessed it was all backfiring now. Remembering the sinful sounds Mando had made, you felt a heat coiling deep inside you.

You risked a hand between your legs. Okay, you had a problem there. You were wet. Not just damp. You were soaking through your underwear. You brought your fingers to you nose; they had the definite smell of sex.

Would you be able to finally pleasure yourself on a stranger’s ship far away from Nevarro?

You wanted it so badly. You were burning up, pressing your thighs together to relieve the pressure. But the thing was, the owner of this spaceship had lent you his cot. People did not get off in other people’s bed, that was your implicit rule of hospitality. Especially not when you knew you’d make a mess with how wet you were.

Just a touch, you decided. A quick rub of your lady parts would not do wrong, right? You leaned backwards until your back was pressed against the metal wall and you slid a hand under your sleep pants, circling the tender area with the tip of your fingers.

You still saw Mando under your closed eyes. You tried to focus on your past adventures but Mando’s helmet kept coming back until it was him you imagined riding on your small bed back in Nevarro, making the erotic sounds you’d heard tonight. You let out an unvoluntary moan. You couldn’t stop now, you felt your whole body tingling and burning, you began to see stars, white stars, everything was brighter –

Your eyes flew open at the brightly lit torch brandished towards your face from the end of the cot. Fuck fuck fuck. In your haste to flee, you’d forgotten to close down the hatch and now Mando himself was standing still, looking directly at you, the torch in his left hand.

He was not moving but you swore he looked amused. You wanted to crawl in a hole and die, and at the same time you felt incredibly wanton and powerful with your legs spread apart and the glow you knew was on your face.

“I heard my name,” Mando whispered.

His voice was hoarse and heavy, and you felt your insides clench at the sound.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured. The air between you was thick.

“Don’t be,” he replied. Then he looked at you, looking like he was debating something internally. “May I?”

The pronounced static of his breathing, the expectant posture – you felt your head buzzing at the implication. It meant one thing.

“Yes.” Your voice was breathy, but you didn’t care.

The two of you were too big for the bunk, especially since Mando still had his full armour on, but you didn’t mind the way his body pressed against yours in all pleasant ways.

“Let me,” he groaned, once he was fully inside the bunk, …

You stilled, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. Slowly, so slowly, he placed his right hand in your inner thigh, fingers hovering over the soft skin. Every place he touched you, you burned.

You reached to grasp the helmet but he caught your hand, staring hard into your eyes. You resolved to closing your eyes and slide your hand under the fabric of his shirt, smiling when you caressed the warmth underneath.

So there were taut muscles and soft skin behind the shiny beskar.

You’d lost your way in the numbers and figures, it seemed, in the cold facts of mathematics and the harsh reality of financial fraud. All those years alone had not been easy and you’d forgotten what it was like to be held by a soulful touch. You could almost cry. The night was tender and warm and you felt like melting into Mando while he melted into you, two lives meeting in the corner of the universe, on a planet graced by tragedies and hope alike.

There was no undressing for him. He’d made it clear that the helmet would stay on, and neither of you bothered to remove the rest of his clothes. He sighed deeply when you bit the fingers of his gloves and removed them with your teeth, revealing two hands that looked and felt sun-kissed.

You lazily removed your sleep clothes, keeping your eyes fixed on the helmet, and it felt like your gaze was locked with his even though you couldn’t see behind the black visor. You threw your underwear in a bundle, the fire in your body urging you to feel him ever closer. The plates of metal poked into your skin, cold and unforgiving but you couldn’t care less. If this was the price to pay to keep him close, then you’d willingly pay it.

The rush of the cocktail of hormones felt like drugs in your foggy brain. You were in the middle of draping your left leg over his waist when all movement slowed and stopped. Time was suspended; only the heavy static behind the beskar helmet and your own wrecked breath cut the silence and the electricity buzz of the landed spaceship.

He looked like he wanted to kiss you. You knew you wanted to press your mouth against his and taste his lips. But you knew it couldn’t happen. He knew it too. There was a shimmer of hope, then it died down as your leg finished its graceful arch in the air and you settled yourself over him, hot and heavy under your hips.

You felt the desire in your veins, and there was raw longing in the way he murmured your name over and over again while he buried himself inside you.

Maybe the last few years had been harsh and loveless for you, but it seemed that Mando had decided to make it all up on his own. Why you would at last find true passion in the hands of a seasoned bounty hunter, you didn’t know. You couldn’t contain your wanton moaning, lost in the haze of the moment. If he was as fierce in battle as he was in his love - and it looked like he was -, then you would not be able to fight back if he demanded your heart. You would gladly surrender right there, right now…

You felt the sweat gathering on your face. There was urgency in your movements, and you felt your own muscles tightening deliciously.

Cyar’ika, cyar’ika, cyar’ika…

Mando whispered the words into your shoulders as you felt his body tense under yours.

You couldn’t understand them, yet you couldn’t miss the depth of their meaning. You pressed a thousand kisses on his helmet, cradling him in your arms, rocking quicker as you readied yourself for him to shatter and explode into your embrace. Cyar’ika, cyar’ika…

You couldn’t understand these words, but I could.

You and I were chatting amiably in the cantina of some random planet he happened to have a bounty on. I could tell that the flush on your face was caused by both the cocktail swirling in your glass and the feelings you so obviously had towards the beskar-clad warrior.

Maybe it was the need for female company. Maybe it was the alcohol in your system. Maybe you thought you found a friend in me. But you poured your heart out to me, maybe hoping I would somehow understand your feelings and encourage you to act on them.

I didn’t tell you that I last travelled with the Mandalorian of your story a little more than six months ago. I couldn’t bring myself to it.

You didn’t understand the pet names he gave you, but I did, because he’d called me this way too.

I’d done everything you did.

I’d met the Mandalorian a different way, him looking for a doctor for a festered wound that did not heal. His desperate sighs when I applied bacta patches beneath the armour had compelled me to stay on his ship.

I’d laughed and cried and moaned on the Crest just like you. I’d been under crossfire more than once, I’d tended to his wounds, I’d made the calculations to jump to hyperspace while he was asleep, tired from a day of bounty-hunting and a night of love-making.

We’d spent hours discovering each other’s bodies while the Crest floated somewhere between the stars. I’d seen the heavens, shuddering beneath him, breathy sighs saturating the air. I’d waited for him to come back every day, touching myself on the pilot’s seat and wishing for the comfort of his strong arms.

But life on the Razor Crest was too lonely for me. After a while, I couldn’t stand it anymore, and I needed company, friends to share a meal with. I missed evenings with my family, cooking together our trademark roast chicken recipe inherited from my maternal grandmother. I missed the silly games we played with my little cousins; our faces distorted in grimaces as we imitated HoloNet celebrities. I also missed my friends’ laughs, my first crush’s hazel eyes, my best friend’s freckled face. My home planet was only a short hyperspace drive from here, yet it felt like I was worlds and worlds away.

Behind the shiny beskar and the hard muscles, I could only see a lifetime of worry and loneliness. How in the galaxy could I ever belong there, in that tin can in the middle of nothingness? I needed the warmth of the sun, the smell of the earth and the promise of a happy life.

So I’d left before I could fall in love and get hurt. I gave him back the pendant you now wore between your breasts. I’d tried to ignore the way his shoulders hunched as I packed my bag. I left without looking back, my chin held high, half hoping he’d notice the tears on my face and beg me to come back.

You looked happy; he deserved you. You picked up your watch and I read the surprise on your face. “Already? I have to go, he’s picking me up here and we leave in a half-hour.” You packed your bags hurriedly, the flush lingering on your cheeks and I smiled at your apologies for leaving so soon. You thanked me profusely for my quiet companionship.

Then I heard it clearly. The velvety voice from my memories, the deep “Let’s go”, the clanking of the armour. It seemed that my body had not forgotten either and I felt myself uncomfortably pressing my thighs together. The memories started to flood my mind because I remembered everything and now I realized how much I missed –

How happy I –

How passionate he –

But this was a path I’d chosen not to take.

#the mandalorian #mando #din djarin #fanfiction #romance #angst #star wars #read and review #read and enjoy #din djarin x oc #x reader

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sergeant-donny-donowitz · 4 years

Text

Tough Guy Pt. 2 (DonnyxFem!Reader)

Pt. 1 Here :)

(theres a few call backs to it ^^^)

Requested by @sodapop182 and @deadways

@owba-chan @war-obsessed @inglourious-imagines @tealaquinn @struggling-bee @frozenhuntress67 @kwyloz @sodapop182

Let me know if you wanna be added to the IB or OUATIH taglists! :)

Requests still open! ____________________

"Meet me after everything...When the war's done..."

You promised to meet him right there, in that little town, just a few miles away from Paris...

But there was a slight change of plans.

Alarms rang, calls were made, orders were given...

The war was over?

It was the middle of the night.

You stood on the cobble stone path where you watched Donny leave with the basterds only days ago.

"Nurse."

You turned around, spotting the jeep taking you to Paris.

"Lucky you. You get to see the boys that done it!"

You raised your eyebrow, a little distracted as you watched the town roll by.

What if Donny came back and you weren't there?

"The boys that killed Hitler. Lucky them, I should say. They get a medic like you, they'll be fine."

You were a bit overwhelmed.

Frankly most of the nurses were...

The war just...ended... The news hadn't even broken out to the public yet.

So you smiled...

What else could you do?

Maybe...maybe this meant you had a chance of getting your sister back.

Maybe...if you hurried, you'd get back to the village before Donny.

No sooner did you step off the jeep, were you met by a high ranking nameless OSS officer giving instructions out to everyone.

"Right this way, lieutenant. They're in bad shape."

"How many?"

"Four survivors. Our two boys and the owners of the cinema. The owners are being treated already. One of your nurses is with one of the soldiers already. Right this way." He showed you to the sidewalk across the smoldering carcass of what was once a cinema.

Your heart stopped.

There he was.... lying on the ground, covered in blood, ash, and burns, half of his leg blown off in the explosion.

His eyes shot open with a smile when he saw you, "So this is heaven, huh?"

You rolled your eyes as you started checking his pulse.

"I turn my back on you for a second and look what happens!"

He groaned a in pain, as you started to take a look at his leg.

He tried to keep his mind off it, by thinking of you. "Weren't you gonna stay and wait for me there..."

"This is the only way to keep you around, isn't it?"

He smiled a little, but then it hurt a little too much. "FUCK! SHIT Y/N IS IT BAD?"

Then it all came back to him, he shot up, sweat rolling down his forehead, "Where's Omar?! And Aldo? He never made it! And the lady?! Von Hammersmark! Wh-"

"Hey! Take it easy!" You helped him back down, "That kid over there Omar? The one winking at the nurses with his good eye?"

Donny glanced over and mumbled through a smirk, "Yeah...yeah that's him!"

"I heard your lieutenant is alright and one or two of your boys are with him." You started to stop the bleeding, "Some of the resistance found your German friends. Three right?"

"Ones a British officer."

"They're in our hospital now. There alright. I promise, Donny."

He gave you that look.

That feverish look of uncertainty.

You gently rested your hand on his chest as it moved eratically. He raised his hand shakily, and dropped it over yours. His chest began to steady a little and you smiled, "They're alright now, Donny. Everything's alright. You just won the war."

Donny nodded slowly, his eyes looking up at the stars in your eyes. "Ya know..." His voice was strained, but his smirk was his own, "I took down Hitler."

"My hero," you chuckled as you wrapped up his wound as best as you could. He'd need a surgeon but for now this was all that could be done by any nurse.

But you weren’t just a nurse.

You were in love.

And all you could do wasn't enough to you.

You needed to keep him steady, take the pain away as much as possible.

"And all without your bat, huh tough guy?"

He took a deep breath, and tried to focus on you, but you seemed hazy...

He would have been perfectly fine with dying in an inglourious haze of revenge and justice. It was Operation Kino... he could’ve gone out like any basterd could hope for...

But then he met you...

He wanted to know what would have happened if he made it back to that little village.

He knew what revenge was... But now that it was all over, he wanted to know what more life could offer.

He'd wondered that before.

What could life give him after the war?

Well when war gave him the best it had, life gave Donny the best he could have.

The answer had been in front of him before, and stood between him and death twice.

It was you.

And now that he knew the answer to the questions he'd asked himself for years...he wasn't sure he could let go anymore.

Not now...

"Y/n..." He managed to mumble through the blood in his mouth.

"Yeah Donny?" You looked up from a harsh burn you were treating.

"Don't....don't let me go..." He pleaded softly, his eyes torn between victory and goodbye.

"Hey...your job was to kill the enemy. Mine is to keep you alive. You did your part now I'm gonna do mine and-"

"S-save me?" He grinned throufh the pain and blood.

You nodded as you fought back the tears, seeing he could still remember the night you met, "Yeah. You."

He smiled.

Nothing had changed since the first time you met.

He looked up, now at the stars of the free sky...

He got too quiet for your liking ... He was Donny Donowitz for crying out loud. This was too quiet for him.

"Do me a favor...be a tough guy now, huh..."

There was a pulse. Barely there, but better than nothing.

You sighed, "You did it tough guy... Rest up. It's ok."

Suddenly, you heard him mumble, "You'll be there...when it's all over, Right?"

Your heart stopped as a knot in your throat threatened to take the stars from your eyes.

There was nothing more you could do.

But...you didn't lie to him.

So you took his hands in yours and smiled softly, "I promise, Donny...I-"

His eyes shut, and a faint smile because he trusted you.

You leaned over him, a tear falling over his soot covered cheek, as you finished your broken thought, "...promise."

**** When Donny opened his eyes, he was in a hospital. His heart leapt initially, believing he was back in the place he met you... But he wasn't. He was in an actual hospital. He could hear people celebrating in the streets... He looked around, and once again, you were gone. Dull pain in his leg, the room spinning around, he mumbled your name. He knew you wouldn'r lie to him, but you had your orders to follow, too. He couldn't blame you for that. How could he be mad at the nurse that saved him....twice... He knew there were countless more that needed you more than he did. Still, it broke his heart. Then again, when he sat up, and looked at the cots next to his, he spotted Hugo, Wicki, and Omar. "Donny!" He cracked a wide grin, and turned to the door, spotting Aldo leaning against the doorway.

"Yeah?!" He sat up, spotting Utivich and Hirschberg behind him. Aldo chuckled, and Donny noticed he was wearing civilian's clothes...new ones, that weren't covered in blood and dirt. "At ease, son, at ease." The moment they were all quiet, Omar asked with a sly grin, "Who's Y/n?" Aldo shut his eyes in frustration. He told that boy a million times not to ask. "Fuck did I tell you!?" Wicki smirked, "That's all you've been saying in your sleep, you know?" Aldo sighed, and smirked a little, "That wouldn't be the perty lil' nurse hangin' roun' here all night, would it?" Hirschberg frowned a little, thinking out loud, "Say ain't that the dame we saw you with back in that town?" Donny smiled softly, "Yeah...that's her..." Smitty sighed, "Oh...well....I saw her leave this morning. A lot of nurses got shipped out..." Donny nodded, "I know, kid...She's got work." Aldo sighed, "Well, Donny, maybe you'll see her again before y'all get discharged." Omar grinned, "Before we go home." Home... His heart sank a little, though he smiled softly. Maybe you'd get that root beer float then. Maybe you'd get your sister back... "Maybe, sir... Maybe." ******** Months passed... It was finally all over. The basterds were in D.C., getting the medal of honor. Donny looked out onto the crowd, and spotted his parents, his little brother... When did he get so tall? And his sister. Married already?

His parents... His dad had more grey hairs, his mother looked tired from worrying... But they were happy now. His eyes then fell on one more familiar face in the back, jet lagged, but just in time. He smiled when he saw you, and didn’t stop.

And in all the pictures taken that day, Donny was the basterd with the widest smile. When the cameras stopped flashing, the speeches were done, the goodbyes were made, and the hellos were given, there was time again. "Goin' my way?" He winked, and you laughed, as you threw your arms around him, "You know it." He chuckled and kissed you. "Pick me up, Friday at seven?" You winked and slipped a piece of paper in his hand. He looked down and spotted an address and number. He smirked, "You know it." So less than a week later, you'd both gone home, back in Boston... You got more phone calls from him than you could count. And one lucky Thursday night, a knock on the door. "Donny, can't you wait until tomo-" Your heart stopped, and you sobbed, as your sister stood there. Things were finally the way they should have been... And only getting better. Because the next night, Donny was the one at the door. He waited for you to get that piece of pie. Boston cream pie.

(A/N Art by @sodapop182 !!! She’s so talented y’all should check out her blog its amazing! ;-;) _____ It became a tradition. Every Friday night, at the same booth, same order. A slice of pie and a root beer float to share. Some nights, you worked late at the hospital, but that was ok. He'd be waiting outside at the end of your shift, with the pie, knowing you were hungry and tired. One Friday night, not long after, there was pie, a root beer float, and a diamond ring. A year or two later, there were three people at that table, then four, then five. It was 1952 now. Your two year old daughter was sitting in his lap, as he chuckled, "Come on, kid sit still!" desparately trying to wipe away crumbs of pie from her face. Your two sons, four and six years old, rushed to the juke box. You looked up at Donny, laughing as you watched your sons dance. "They have your moves, tough guy." He smirked a little, though he was looking down at his baby girl, straightening out the bow in her short, black, curly hair, "They have your smile, doll." He scooped some more pie in a spoon, and fed his daughter, "Ain't that right kid?" She just giggled, and in that moment, everything was perfect. At that table, Donny wasn't a sergeant, he didn't need to be a tough guy anymore. He was wearing the same wife-beater, as always, still loud and obnoxious like any guy from Boston, and he was still a basterd at heart... But he still wore the same smile he had the moment he fell in love. Things had changed so much since you both shipped out overseas, but that smile stayed the same, and always would.

#donny-donowitz #donny donowitz imagine #donny donowitz x reader #Donny Donowitz #Inglourious Basterds #inglourious basterds imagine

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imaginationintowords · 5 years

Text

Not Good Enough.

Avengers x Reader angst

word count: 2163

Requested.

Plot: could you do an avengers x reader (no paring) where the reader screws up on a mission and the whole team yells for like a week at her and one day the reader decides to start cutting and this goes on for about a year until one of the avengers grabs their wrist during training and makes the reader shout in pain (rest can be up to you).

[a/n: I changed around some things with this request as I kind of just let the writing take me where the story wants to go. There is no self-harm in this story. sorry to the anon who requested it, if this was not what you wanted. I liked how this turned out, and I hope you guys do also]

_______

It was supposed to be a simple mission that involved the whole team. In and out. That was the plan.

I never meant to cause any trouble. It was a simple mistake. I had the ability to warp time, along with other abilities that were constantly developing.

I don’t know what happened, but as I was trying to hold off bodies, I lost control. I put us in a lot of danger. Half of the ream ended up severely injured. No one would talk to me on the way back to the tower.

“Living room. Now.” Tony said through gritted teeth.

“What the hell happened out there?” Natasha yelled at me, causing me to jump at the sudden volume of her voice.

One bad thing about my abilities was that I can also sense emotions. And all I could feel now was nothing but anger and hatred.

“I-I don’t know. I just lost control.” I stammered.

“How the hell do you fucking lose control?” Tony asked, trying to hold back from yelling.

“I don’t know. One moment I was able to hold time, the next I wasn’t.” I tried to explain.

“That was a rookie mistake.” Steve bit.

“Half of the team is in the infirmary, because of your ‘mistake’.” Steve continued.

“It wasn’t my intention. I’m sorry.” I apologized once more, trying to hold back the tears.

“You’re suspended. Until further notice.” Tony said, not bothering to look at me as he walked out of the room.

Natasha gave me an intense evil glare as she walked out of the room.

“I’m very disappointed in you.” Steve said shaking his head, leaving the room, with the rest of the uninjured team following.

I stood there in the middle of the room alone. I didn’t know what to do.

I slowly made my way to my room. As I was walking to my room, I passed Natasha’s and could hear her talking to someone. I couldn’t help but listen.

“I can’t believe he only suspended her. That’s an incredibly light punishment for what happened. She put us all in danger. He has a soft spot for her. He should’ve just let her go. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to work with her again.”

I decided I had heard enough and sulked back to my room.

I quietly closed my door and sat on my bed.

I should probably shower, I’m covered in dirt and blood, not even sure if the blood is mine or not.

I just sat there for a few more minutes, staring ahead at nothing.

I suddenly felt a tiny sharp pain coming from my leg.

I decided it was time to get up and take a shower.

My suit took a bit of strength to get off since the sweat caused it to shrink onto my body.

I was able to get half the suit off my torso. My body was starting to ache, the aftermath of today's events setting in. I took a seat on my closed toilet, as leverage to take the rest of my suit off.

I was slowly peeling the suit off my legs, when that tiny sharp of pain on m left leg became an even bigger sharp of pain.

I was finally able to get the suit off completely. I looked down at my leg to see a massive cut going vertically down my leg, from my shin to my ankle. I didn't even feel this, so I had no clue when I had gotten it.

I should probably go to the infirmary and get it checked out. But I couldn't show my face there, not when most of my team was in there with more serious injuries.

I turned on my shower and stripped off the rest of my clothes.

The water was very hot to the touch once I stepped in. I could instantly feel my body wanting to retreat. After a few seconds it did feel kind of nice, distracted me from the pain coming from my leg. I took my time washing my hair and body.

After awhile I could feel the pain coming back to my leg. I decided it was probably time to get out.

I wrapped my towel around my body. I opened the cabinet under my sink and grabbed the first aid kit that's kept under there.I poured some hydrogen peroxide on it, to make sure it wouldn't get infected. I grabbed a roll of bandage wrap and gauze to cover this cut.

I continued my normal bed time routine, brushed my hair, my teeth, then put on a clean pair of pajamas. I got into bed, when my stomach started to growl.

It was only seven p.m. Everyone would be in the kitchen getting their dinner ready. I know I'm not wanted. It'll just make everyone more upset towards me.

I'll just set my alarm really early before anyone gets up. I'll just stay out of everyone's way for the time being.I'm sure in a week or so, everyone won't be so harsh towards me. I tell myself as I start to fall asleep.

______

Two weeks. It's been two weeks since the incident, and everyone seems to still be just as mad as they were when it happened.

For the first week I managed to avoid everyone. It was easy since I was currently not allowed on missions. On day eight though was my first run in with a teammate.

I had gotten up at four a.m., like I had been for my morning run. I had timed it perfectly, run an hour, have breakfast by five, then back in my room by 5:30, when the early birds would start to wake up. I would typically hear them opening their doors as I was closing mine. But today was different.

When I entered the kitchen after my run, there sat on a stool was Natasha, as if she were waiting for me to return. The last member of the team who would want to see me. Hell, she even changed room floors because she hated me so much.

"Hi." I awkwardly greeted her, walking to the fridge for a water bottle.

She didn't say a thing, she just continued to glare at me.

"I'm just going to grab a bowl of oatmeal then be on my way." I tell her, moving around the kitchen quickly, to get out of her way.

"Why are you still here?" she says as I was pouring water into my dry oats.

"I'm sorry. What?" I timidly asked, not sure I even heard her correctly.

"I said. Why. Are. You. Still. Here." she repeated slowly, getting off of her stool, and making her way towards me. Stopping right in front of me.

"I-" I started to say before she cut me off.

"You don't deserve to be here. You don't deserve to be a part of this team." she viciously spat in my face.

"It was a mistake, Natasha. It's not like I meant to lose control and cause everyone to get hurt." I whispered, felling the lump in my throat start to form.

"None of us would've pulled such a rookie mistake. You're not cut out for any of this. We all think so."

"Really?" I hurtfully ask, feeling the tears begin to form.

"Oh yeah. We've all thought so for awhile now. You're the weakest link on this team. We all think so." she continued to spit vile.

"You do?" I could feel my heart slowly breaking. At this point the tears were beginning to fall.

"Yes. We all do." she smirked.

"Oh." I responded, felling completely lost.

"You should just do all of us a favor and just leave."

"Okay. If you all think that's for the best." I say looking around the room, feeling utterly helpless.

"Yes, we do. You should probably do it before everyone wakes up." she says, stepping away from me, so I can get by.

"Okay." I say, slowly walking out of the kitchen, the bowl of uncooked oatmeal forgotten.

As I was walking out of the room I heard Natasha throwing the bowl into the sink, making me jump from the loudness of it.

I felt like a lost puppy.

Once in my room I looked around. Everyone will be up in about an hour. I don't know how I will get this all done in time.

Time

.Guess one more time stop for the road.I stopped time.

Now I have all the time in the world.

I started with my clothes, then my decor pieces that I brought with me. Then my bedding, and toiletries last. Only thing left was the furniture and television that came with the room.

I made the final decision to leave my laptop and phone too. They were both gifts from Tony when I came to live here, along with a car that would also be staying.

Nothing to tie me in with the Avengers. My final goodbye. Giving them what they want, what they were to afraid to tell me.

I didn't have any hard feelings towards them, I get it. How could they work with me if they didn't trust me. If I was a liability to everyone's lives.

The best thing for me to do was to listen to Natasha and leave.

Will I miss them all? Of course. Who wouldn't. I finally found where I belonged and I went ahead and ruined it.

I took one last deep breath, then unfroze time.

I called a cab, they were five minutes out. I managed to carry out two boxes, and a suitcase of my things in one trip.I stood outside the gates of the compound.

The sun was beginning to rise as my cab pulled up.

The driver helped me load my things in his truck.

I took one final glance at the Avengers compound.

"Goodbye." I whispered before getting into the cab.

_____

After thirty minutes in the cab, I finally arrived to my destination. An apartment building in Queens.

Where it all started.

I thanked the cab driver, and made my way up.

I got to the familiar fifth floor. I made my way down the long hallway to the specific apartment.

On my way there a door was swung open, and out came a teenage boy.

“Oh. Hey [y/n]!” he greeted me, locking his door, before turning to face me.

“Hey Peter. Off to school?” I greeted the familiar face.

“Yup. You moving back in?” he asked looking at my things.

“Yeah. Things weren’t really working upstate.” I tell him, forcing a smile.

“I’m sorry. I’m sure they’re going to beat themselves up for letting someone as smart as you go.” he positively says.

“Thanks, Pete.”

“It’ll be nice to have your face back in these hallways.” he smiles.

“That and now you have a tutor right next door.” I lightly joke with him.

“Caught me. I better get going, don’t want to be late. I’ll come and see you after though.” he waves me bye.

I smiled, my heart slowly warming. Maybe this will be a good thing after all.

I made my way back to my destination, next door.

I knocked on the door and heard footsteps approaching.

“[Y/n]?”

“Hey grandma. You still have space for me?” I smiled, fighting back the tears.

“Oh honey, of course. Come in. Come in.” she said helping me with my things.

Walking into the familiar apartment, where I spent most of my life in. Everything still looked how it did when I left almost two years ago. Here comes the tears again.

“Oh, sweetie. Come here.” my grandma said, placing down my box before wrapping me in her arms.

I wrapped my arms around her tightly, crying into her shoulder.

______

After a few minutes of crying my eyes out and getting all my stuff in my old bedroom, my grandma and I sat in the living room with a nice hot cup of tea.

“What happened? The last we spoke everything was going great.” she says.

“About a couple of weeks ago, a mission went bad, it was my fault. Half of the team got seriously hurt. The whole team was beyond mad, I’ve never felt so much hatred towards me before.” I tell her.

“I was placed on suspension, but apparently that was just the team being nice. They really wanted me out. So, here I am.” I explain, trying not to cry again.

“Oh sweetie. I’m sure that’s not true.” she said rubbing my hand.

“It is though. Natasha told me that everyone doesn’t think I’m good enough to be a part of the Avengers. They all hate me, and I could feel it.”

“I’m sure they don’t hate you.” she said trying to make me feel better.

“Oh but they do. Unfortunately, I was able to feel all the hatred and anger towards me these past couple of weeks.”

“Well then maybe it’s for the best that you’re home. A fresh start. Put one of those PhDs to good use.” she encourages with a smile.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right.” I say, unsure about it all.

“Of course I am. Now, why don’t you go to your room and get settled. It’ll keep that loud mind busy.” she says, tapping my forehead.

_______

I walked into my old room, and closed the door behind me.

I looked around the room. It was smaller than my room at the compound, but still a good size for me.

Maybe my grandma is right, maybe this will be good for me.

A fresh start.

“Yeah. That sounds nice.” I smile to myself.

#avengers angst #avengers oneshot #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #avengers fanfiction #marvel imagine #marvel angst #mcu angst #mcu imagine #mcu oneshot #marvel oneshot #marvel angst oneshot #mcu angst oneshot #avengersxreader #avengers angst one shot #avengers one shot

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boat-full-of-lotus-pods · 5 years

Text

MDZS Chapter 106. “A Hatred for Life” Part 9

Assembly

Lan XiChen asked, “What letter?”

Jin GuangYao replied, “A blackmail letter. It contained…… all those things, and said that in seven days’ time it will reveal everything to the public. It told me to either take my own life to repent for my sins or…… to wait for death.”

Everyone understood at once. Jin GuangYao would never actually sit and wait for his death. He’d rather make the first move than to sit and wait for the utter destruction of his name and reputation, allowing himself to be mocked and humiliated by the entire world. Then, even if whoever had sent the letter revealed his history of dirty deeds later, all the sects would be suffering from the huge blow of the battle and would be in no state to stir another ruckus over him.

However, fate had other plans in mind. His plan was foiled by Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi.

Lan XiChen exclaimed, “Even so, you shouldn’t have finished what you’ve started and resorted to killing! What you’re doing is…….”

He couldn’t find an excuse for Jin GuangYao even if he tried!

Jin GuangYao said, “Then what else was I supposed to do? Wait until the truth gets revealed, until the words spread far and wide, until I become the laughing stock of every cultivation family, and then kneel down and offer my face to be stepped on, and beg for the world’s forgiveness? Er-ge! There is no third option. If they don’t die, then I will.”

Something like rage crossed Lan XiChen’s face. He took a step aside and said, “And isn’t it all because you…… because you’ve done all those things in the letter to start with?! If you had never done any of them, then you wouldn’t ever have been at somebody’s mercy like this!”

Jin GuangYao said, “Er-ge, listen to me. I won’t deny doing any of those things……”

Lan XiChen interrupted him, “How could you deny them? The witnesses and evidence are all here!”

Jin GuangYao continued, “Which is why I said I won’t deny them! But would I ever kill my father, my wife, my son and my brother if I had any other alternative left? Am I really such a madman[1] in your eyes?!”

Regaining some of his composure, Lan XiChen said, “Fine. I’ll ask you a few questions, and you can explain them to me one at a time.”

Lan WangJi warned, “Brother!”

Seeing that Lan WangJi had unsheathed Bichen and looked about ready to end Jin GuangYao with a mere swipe of his sword, Lan XiChen hurriedly said, “Don’t worry. He’s wounded and without weapons. He’s already at a great disadvantage. With so many people present, he can’t pull any more tricks.” Meanwhile, Wei WuXian had just kicked at Su She, ruining his attempt at a stealthy move. Lan XiChen continued, “Go take care of matters over on that side. Leave this side to me.”

Hearing Su She’s angry shouts, Lan WangJi went over. Wei WuXian knew that Lan XiChen still had some affection left in his heart for his sworn brother, that he still harboured some unspeakable hope for him, and would give Jin GuangYao this chance to speak no matter what. Coincidentally, Wei WuXian also wanted to learn a few things from Jin GuangYao’s own mouth. Thus, he paid minute attention as Lan XiChen started his questioning. “First of all, your father, the former Sect Leader Jin. Did you really use such a way to……”

Jin GuangYao spoke very carefully. “This question, I want to answer it last.”

Lan XiChen shook his head and continued. “Secondly, your…… wife……” He paused, as if finding the word wrong before correcting himself, “Your sister, Qin Su. Did you really marry her despite already knowing your true relationship?”

Jin GuangYao stared at him blankly. Suddenly, tears streamed down his face.

He answered in a voice full of anguish. “……Yes.”

Lan XiChen inhaled deeply, face ashen. Jin GuangYao continued in a low voice, “But I really had no choice.”

Lan XiChen berated, “How could you have no choice?! It was your marriage! Couldn’t you simply have chosen to not marry her? Even if it would have broken her heart, it would still have been better than utterly destroying a woman who truly loved and respected you, who never looked down upon you even once!”

Jin GuangYao replied, “Have I not truly loved her in return?! But I had no choice, and I mean it when I said I had no choice! Yes! It was my marriage, but could it really have been called off just because I wanted to call it off?! Er-ge, is there no limit to your naivety? Do you know how much work, the amount of blood, sweat, and tears I had to put in before Qin CangYe agreed to my marriage proposal? When the wedding date was finally near, just when both Qin CangYe and Jin GuangShan were at last more than happy with the matter, you’re telling me to suddenly call it off? What excuse am I supposed to use? How could I ever have explained myself to either of them?!

“Er-ge, do you know how I felt when Madam Qin suddenly came to reveal the truth to me in secret, just when I had thought that everything was finally going to be perfect?! Even if a streak of lightning had struck me in the head, it’d have been less mortifying! Do you know why she chose to secretly come to beg me instead of going to Jin GuangShan? Because Jin GuangShan had raped her! Not even the wife of a loyal subordinate could escape the palms of that dear old father of mine. He couldn’t even remember when he’d had an extra daughter or two! All these years, Madam Qin had kept the truth to herself. She didn’t even dare to tell her own husband, Qin CangYe. Tell me, if I suddenly called off the wedding and it made them sense that something was off, if it ended in an irreversible fallout between Jin GuangShan and Qin CangYe, who would end up being shunned by both of them? Who would be the one to end up suffering the most?!”

Though it wasn’t the first time that people had heard of Jin GuangShan’s shamelessly vulgar behaviour, everyone present still shuddered in disgust and horror, and couldn’t tell which of the two emotions was stronger in their heart. Lan XiChen said, “Even if……even if you had no choice but to marry Qin Su, you could still have chosen to distance yourself from her. Why must you…… Why did you have A-Song then? And then murdered your own son!”

Clutching his own head, Jin GuangYao bitterly answered, “……I never touched A-Su again after the wedding ceremony. A-Song…... was conceived before the wedding. At the time, I was worried that things might change……”

And consummated with Qin Su ahead of time.

Had it not been the case, he wouldn’t have accidentally had such messy relations with his own younger sister. Now after everything, he didn’t even know whether he should hate his irresponsible, inappropriate father, or hate his own overthinking, over-worrying self!

Sighing, Lan XiChen said, “Thirdly, don’t try to argue on this one. Answer me, on the death of Jin ZiXuan, did you orchestrate it or not?!”

At hearing his father’s name, Jin Ling’s eyes widened as he supported Jiang Cheng by his side.

Lan WangJi’s voice raised slightly as he asked, “Brother, you would believe him?”

Lan XiChen replied, expression complex, “Naturally, I refuse to believe that Jin ZiXuan had gone to the Qiongqi Path that day and hindered the ambush by accident, but……I want him to speak first.”

Jin GuangYao knew that no one would believe him if he continued to refute all involvement. Clenching his teeth a few times, he said, “……Indeed, I hadn’t bumped into Jin ZiXuan by chance.”

Jin Ling’s hands tightened into fists immediately.

Jin GuangYao continued, “But I had never planned for any of the things that had happened afterwards. Don’t imagine me as some scheming mastermind whose plans had never failed before. Many things will always be beyond my control. How was I to know that he would perish together with Jin ZiXun under Wei WuXian’s hands? How was I to predict with certainty that Wei WuXian would lose control for sure? That the Ghoul General would start a massacre?”

Wei WuXian shouted in a harsh voice, “But you’ve just said that you hadn’t bump into him by chance? You’re contradicting yourself!”

Jin GuangYao said, “I don’t deny that I’d let him know of the ambush at the Qiongqi Path on purpose, but it was only because I knew that he and you never got along in the past. Incidentally, his cousin[2] was giving you trouble, no doubt the situation would make life a little difficult for him. How was I to foresee that Mister Wei would just end up killing everyone present?”

Wei WuXian was so angry that he found himself smiling instead. “You are so……”

Suddenly, Jin Ling screamed, “Why?!”

Getting to his feet from Jiang Cheng’s side, with eyes brimming red, he rushed towards Jin GuangYao, shouting, “Why did you do that?!”

Nie HuaiSang immediately took a hold of Jin Ling, who looked about ready to start a fight with Jin GuangYao, and pulled him back. Jin GuangYao asked back, “Why?”

Turning to Jin Ling, he continued, “A-Ling, can you tell me why then? Why is it that even though I always put up a smiling face for everyone, I rarely received one in return? Meanwhile, your father was arrogant and proud everywhere he went, yet everyone was always chasing after him? Can you tell why is it that, though we had the same father, why is it that your father could leisurely stay at home and tease his child with his most beloved wife while I, who barely dared to stay alone too long with my wife, who’s frightened every time I gaze upon my own son, got sent out to deal with these things by my own father as if it was only natural for me to handle them—to ambush an unstable, dangerous man who could lose control of his fierce corpses at any moment and turn everything into a massacre?!

“Why is it that, though we even shared the same birthday, Jin GuangShan could be throwing a lavish celebration for one of them while watching the other one get kicked off from the Koi Tower on the very same day, all the way from the top of the first stair down to the very bottom?!”

He’d finally revealed the burning hatred buried deep within him, not for Jin ZiXuan, or Wei WuXian, but for his own father.

Wei WuXian said, “Stop finding excuses for yourself! Why couldn’t you just kill whoever you hate, why did you have to touch Jin ZiXuan?!”

Jin GuangYao replied calmly, “As you can see, I’ve killed them all.”

Lan XiChen said, “And with that kind of method.”

With tears in his eyes, Jin GuangYao knelt with his back straight as smiled and said, “Yes. Isn’t a death like that the most befitting for an old stallion who ruts all over the place?”

Lan XiChen yelled, “A-Yao!”

It was only after the word left his mouth that Lan XiChen remembered that he had already decided to sever ties with Jin GuangYao from his end, and thus shouldn’t be calling him like this. Jin GuangYao, however, did not seem to notice, and continued to speak in a calm fashion. “Er-ge, you see me speaking of him in such foul terms now, but you should know that I once had high hopes for this father of mine too. There was a time when I would do anything he ordered me—be it betraying Sect Leader Wen, protecting Xue Yang, or getting rid of opposing voices—no matter how stupid, how despicable, I would carry them out without fail. But do you know what truly, irreversibly disappointed me in the end? Let me answer your very first question now. It’s not because, in his heart, I won’t ever be more worthy than a single strand of Jin ZiXuan’s hair or a few holes on Jin ZiXun’s body. It’s not because he went and took in Mo XuanYu. And it’s not because of all those later attempts to discredit and hinder me. It’s because of something he said once to an escort over a cup of wine. During another one of his amorous escapades, these words spilled right out of his heart:

“Why wouldn’t the lavish leader of a prominent sect be willing to buy out my mother from the brothel when it should be a piece of cake? The reason was very simple: because it would be too troublesome. All those years that my mother had waited for him, all those excuses she had fabricated for him in front of me, the hardship she’d imagined him to be in, the difficulties she thought he must have faced—the real reason was no more than two words: too troublesome.

“This is how he phrased it: ‘Especially those educated women—they always think themselves a level higher than the rest, always wanting and asking for more, full of unrealistic ideas—those are the most troublesome. If I were really to buy her out, no doubt she’ll come to the Koi Tower to find me. Who knows how she’ll pester me then? So she better just stay where she is. With her assets, she’d probably still be popular for a few years, and wouldn’t have to worry about money for the rest of her life.

“‘The son? Eh, forget it.’”

Jin GuangYao had a flawless memory. As he quoted his father word by word, everyone could almost hear them coming out of Jin GuangShan’s own mouth, drunken and slurred. Jin GuangYao smiled and said, “Er-ge, see—this son of his is only worth three words: ‘Eh, forget it.’ Hahahaha……”

Pain knitted at Lan XiChen’s brows. “Even if your father was……But you’re still……”

Ultimately, he could not find the right words and failed to continue. Sighing, he said, “What’s the use of saying all these things now?”

Shrugging, Jin GuanYao smiled, “I can’t help it. Even after doing all the worst things imaginable, I still want the sympathy of others. That’s just the type of person I am.”

At the word “person”, he sudden flicked his wrist. A piece of red qin string looped around Jin Ling’s neck.

Jin GuangYao’s eyes were still brimming with tears when he warned in a low voice, “Don’t move!”

The move had seriously taken everyone by surprise. Jiang Cheng roared, “Wei WuXian! Didn’t you say you had disarmed him already?!”

The gravity of the situation had him speaking with Wei WuXian directly and voluntarily. His tone was not at all unlike the one he’d often used in their youth. Wei WuXian shouted as well, “I really did take away all his qin strings!”

It couldn’t be that Jin GuangYao’s cultivation was already high enough for him to create objects out of thin air!

It took but a glance for Lan WangJi to unravel the mystery. “He hid it inside himself.”

Following his train of logic, the others soon noticed a patch of red on the side of Jin GuangYao’s torso, gradually expanding over his white robes. The reason why this piece of qin string was red was because it was dripping with blood. Of course Wei WuXian would not have detected it earlier—Jin GuangYao had not carried it on his person, but within his body. While he had talked, riled up Lan XiChen’s emotions, distracted everyone else’s attention and provoked Jin Ling enough for him to come close, he was waiting for the right moment to cut himself open. While no one was paying attention, he gouged out the weapon from within himself.

No one had expected that Jin GuangYao was willing to put himself through this much just to save himself a way out. Though the qin string was extremely slim, it was still a coil of foreign, metallic object. Storing it within his own flesh and blood as he moved about could not have been a pleasant experience.

Jiang Cheng shrieked, “A-Ling!” Instinctively, Wei WuXian was ready to move as well until someone clutched him still. Turning and seeing that it was Lan WangJi, he then regained his senses and managed to stop himself from losing it. With Jin Ling in his hands, Jin GuangYao got to his feet and said, “No need to be so emotional, Sect Leader Jiang. After all, I did watch Jin Ling grow up. My offer still stands. Let us walk our own separate paths from now on. You will never see me again, and Jin Ling will naturally be returned to you in due time, whole and unharmed.”

Jiang Cheng warned, “A-Ling, don’t move! Jin GuangYao, if you need a hostage, take me instead!”

Jin GuangYao frankly said, “That wouldn’t be the same, would it? You are injured, Sect Leader Jiang. Traveling with you will be difficult. You’ll weigh me down.”

Wei WuXian’s palms were starting to sweat. “Sect Leader Jin, have you forgotten to bring something along? Your loyal subordinate is still with us.”

Jin GuangYao looked towards Su She, who was still being held back by Lan WangJi’s Bichen. Su She immediately shouted in a hoarse voice, “Don’t worry about me, Sect Leader!”

Jin GuangYao also immediately responded, “Thanks.”

Lan XiChen said slowly, “Sect Leader Jin, you’ve lied once again.”

Jin GuangYao said, “Just this once. There won’t be a next time.”

Lan XiChen said, “That’s what you’ve said last time as well. I can no longer tell how much truth there is in your words anymore.”

Just as Jin GuangYao opened his mouth to say something, a deafening clash of thunder exploded outside. Though it was far away, it sounded all but too near. Jin GuangYao couldn’t help but shudder and swallow back his words. The very next moment, three eerie, booming thuds came from outside the temple’s doors.

Rather than “knocking” the door, it sounded more like something was “slamming” against it. It sounded less like the noise of someone hitting on the doors with their arm, and more like the noise of someone clutching another person’s head and slamming it against the doors over and over. As the noise grew louder and louder, the cracks on the doors’ latch split wider and wider, and Jin GuangYao’s expression twisted more and more.

By the fourth sound, the doors’ latch finally broke off. Along with the pouring rain, a dark figure flew inside through the broken doors.

Jin GuangYao trembled, as if wanting to dart away on instinct, but quickly stopped himself from following through with it. The figure that had flown in was not heading for him. Instead, it headed for Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi. The two of them calmly parted to avoid the flying figure before standing shoulder to shoulder again. Turning back, Wei WuXian inquired, “Wen Ning?”

Wen Ning collided against the Guanyin statue with his head pointed to the ground. He was stuck in that position for a short while before falling to the ground with a “bam”. Finally, he said, “……Young Master.”

At the sight of him, both Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling’s expression darkened slightly. Meanwhile, Nie HuaiSang screamed, “Da-ge[3]!!!”

Aside from Wen Ning, another silhouette cut an imposing figure by the temple’s doors—rough framed, ashen-faced and dreary-eyed.

It was none other than ChiFeng-Zun, Nie MingJue!

Like an iron tower, he stood between the train and the temple, blocking the only way out. His head sat where it belonged above his neck. Dark threads crisscrossed across his neck; visible traces of needlework. Someone had actually taken a long piece of thread and knitted his head back onto his body!

Lan XiChen said, “……Da-ge.”

Jin GuangYao also mumbled, “……Da-ge……”

Within the temple were three people calling Nie MingJue’s corpse “Da-ge”, but each one had a sharply different tone. Jin GuangYao’s face was overcome by terror. His entire body had started to tremble. Whether it be in life or after death, there was one man who Jin GuangYao feared above all else—his ceaselessly unforgiving, foul-tempered sworn brother.

As his body shook, his hands shook as well, along with the blood-drenched piece of qin string held tightly by them. Right at that moment, Lan WangJi unsheathed Bichen and sliced down.

In the blink of an eye, he was by Jin Ling’s side, catching something with his hand. Meanwhile, Jin GuangYao felt a lightness in his arm. Startled, he looked down. Only then did he realize that his right hand was gone.

His right hand was cut cleanly from the end of his forearm. The thing that Lan WangJi had caught was none other than his weapon hand that was clutching the qin string.

Blood instantly gushed everywhere. Jin GuangYao’s face turned ghastly white from the pain. He hadn’t the strength left to even scream. He couldn't even maintain his balance. Staggering backward, he collapsed onto the ground. It was Su She who screamed instead. For a split second, Lan XiChen appeared as if he wanted to reach out and support him. Ultimately, he didn’t dare to make a move.

Lan WangJi pried apart the fingers of Jin GuangYaos’ severed hand, loosened the string and released Jin Ling from danger’s clutch. Before Jiang Cheng could rush up to check whether Jin Ling was hurt or not, Wei WuXian had beat him to it. Holding Jin Ling by the shoulders, he inspected him carefully. It was only after making sure that not even a single mark of abrasion was left over the skin of Jin Ling’s neck did he finally exhale.

Lan WangJi had always wielded his sword with mercy, but the situation had been too dire for him to afford any hesitation. The qin string was extremely sharp. In the hands of someone who was trained in Chord Assassination, it was a weapon that could slice through skin and bone like cutting through vegetables. Furthermore, Jin GuangYao’s hands were shaking. Had he shook a little harder or, worse, forgot altogether that a life was hanging in his hands and turned to run with the string still in his hand……Had Lan WangJi not made the decisive move to severe that right hand, Jin Ling’s head might no longer be attached to the rest of him, and his blood would have painted the ceilings red!

Having been right beside Jin GuangYao when his hand had been cut off, blood had splattered all over Jin Ling, covering half of his body and face in red. Stunned, before he could fully process what had happened, he was pulled into a hard embrace by Wei WuXian. “Next time, stay far away from dangerous people, you little shit,” Wei WuXian said. “What were you doing standing so close to him?!”

If the only son of Jiang YanLi and Jin ZiXuan had perished in front of him as well, then Wei WuXian really wouldn’t know what to do anymore.

Not used to being hugged like this, Jin Ling’s pale face flushed red instantly. He pushed at Wei WuXian’s chest with all his might, which only made Wei WuXian hold onto him even tighter. After a few more rounds of even tighter hugs, Wei WuXian heavily patted his shoulder, then threw him towards his uncle and said, “Now go! Never run around on your own again, go to your uncle’s side!”

Jiang Cheng held onto Jin Ling, who was still dazed and confused, and turned towards Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi. After a beat of silence, he said to Lan WangJi in a low voice, “Many thanks.”

Though his voice was low, his words were unmistakably clear.

Jin Ling spoke as well, “Many thanks to HanGuang-Jun for saving my life.”

Lan WangJi nodded but didn’t say anything. Bichen tilted towards the ground. Blood soon dropped away from the sword’s bright, sharp blade and onto the floor, leaving it clean once more. Turning, it then pointed towards the figure by the door, Nie MingJue. Slowly getting to his feet, Wen Ning reattached his broken arm and said, “Be careful……His resentment is unusually strong.”

Footnotes:

[1]: “Madman”: The original term in the novel is “丧心病狂”, which is a madness that implies both a lack of sanity and morals.

[2]: Cousin: The original term in Chinese is actually 堂兄 “tang-xiong”, which specifically refers to an older, male cousin who’s your father’s brother’s son.

[3]: Da-ge: 大哥, “first/oldest/big brother”

#魔道祖师 #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation #novel translation #my translation

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whumpfish · 5 years

Text

[Red = Completed; Blue = In Progress]

“Childhood Trauma” for Bad Things Happen Bingo

Avedis Risinger is an OC of mine, and this scene actually immediately precedes my first entry requested by @i-blame-my-love-of-whump-on-ryan

—

“There.” Ma'am stepped back with a sweeping glance of appraisal, smiling in mock admiration at her prisoner, her gaze pausing for emphasis on every familiar scar on her body. “Now you’re much more recognizable as yourself. Katherine 857.”

“That isn’t my name,” Avedis snapped, letting raw anger take the tremor out of her voice. Staring at the last person she’d ever wanted to see. Telling herself that she wasn’t afraid of the warden’s wife anymore.

That the room itself didn’t terrify her more with every minute she spent in it, restrained in a standing position with a collar anchored to the ceiling. That she didn’t feel exposed, strung up naked in front of the person who’d tortured and terrorized her for much of her young life. That she was over it, and there was nothing behind the creeping dread around the edges of her mind. That she didn’t care about the camera, that the others had probably shut the transmission off by now anyway.

That some part of her hadn’t been afraid of this all along.

“Now, now,” said Ma'am, frowning in mock-parental disapproval. “We’ve been over this. You may have something else printed on that ridiculous uniform, but microchips don’t lie. You are Katherine 857. You know it. I know it. You might as well admit it to the rest of your merry band.”

“My name is Avedis Risinger. Katherine is a middle name, nothing more.”

Ma'am laughed. “Close, I suppose. But we both know Katherine is your first and only name, and there is nothing more beyond that. Only that you were the 857th mongrel whelp named Katherine since the foundation of this institution. Not terribly original of your mother, but what else can you expect from criminal stock?”

“My name is Avedis Katherine Risinger of the Sovereign Legion of the Chosen. Captain of the airship Stormchaser. My identification is—”

“Eight. Five. Seven.” Ma'am cut her off, in an insistent tone and gradually escalating volume that was meant to be a warning. “Katherine is your only name. You were microchipped the day after you were born, like all the scum offspring in this hellhole.”

Avedis glared back at her in defiance. (Her. Not the camera. Not once at the camera, or Ma'am wins.)

“My name,” she said, matching the older woman’s tone, a vicious, desperate mockery in her eyes, “is. Avedis. Katherin—nngh!"

The retort was cut off in a barely-swallowed scream, ending in a whimper she couldn’t control as the rod slammed into her stomach for what had to be the tenth time, delivering another charge. Her body jerked forward, the inside of the collar jamming into her throat.

"That’s enough!” Ma'am snapped as Avedis leaned her head back, coughing. The point of the rod trailed from her navel to her chest, then back down. “Scars don’t lie either,” she said with a taunting note that made Avedis’s skin crawl. “We did tell your friends we’d get to that, didn’t we?”

The rod struck her right upper thigh, almost six inches above where her shorts had ended, and Avedis didn’t need to look down to see what it was. A cluster of cigarette burns.

“The warden wouldn’t brand the offspring he brought home for his vanity project, you see,” Ma'am said into the camera. “So it fell to me. I had to make do with what I had. She screamed like a stuck boar. And oh, what I had to do to make her stop.”

Avedis closed her eyes. Ma'am would not get the satisfaction of her pain, rage, fear, desperation. No matter what.

The tip of the rod moved to her other leg. A series of shallow stab wounds. “Katherine 857 was helpful on occasion, I won’t deny. Whenever I got a new letter opener, or scissors, she would break them in for me. It helped build her resilience and self-control, you see.” Avedis could hear the smug smile in her voice. “Yes, you have me to thank for that. By the time she was sixteen, she barely made a sound.”

She dragged the tip to her lower abdomen, just before the waistline of her clothes began. A messy spiderweb of an electrical scar. Ma'am’s souvenirs were always carefully placed to avoid detection by the warden. “Why Katherine 857,” she exclaimed in mock surprise, “whyever would you hide this? Don’t you think it’s lovely? Like a pink lace on that pale skin. Beauty hurts, whelp, you never did learn that."

There was another on her left side, and one at the small of her back. Ma'am went for the side first. "This was a birthday present. I caught her and two other urchins ogling the tattoos of the builders, so I decided to give them their own… body art, I think they’re calling it these days. I think it turned out well. Wasn’t satisfied with the placement, though. The one in the back turned out better. Centered, you see. Much more balanced to the eye.” She chuckled. “She seems rather determined to have at least one more before I’m done with her.”

Ma'am leaned in close, close enough for Avedis to feel the air expended in the vicious whisper. “If I’m ever done.”

The sensation made her skin crawl. Avedis shoved her away, but Ma'am grabbed her arm, spinning her around and pinning it to her back. Another hand seized her shoulder. Put pressure on it. Avedis bit her lip to keep it from trembling.

“Could it be you don’t remember what happens when mongrels misuse what they’re given?”

Avedis shook her head silently. Much of her childhood was a foggy mystery, but that she remembered. She still had nightmares about joints being partially dislocated by cold hands, brutal but careful and precise. The penalty for lifting a hand–or any part–against Ma'am.

Ma'am tone shifted. Addressing the camera again. “Ah, now you can see the back. And to think, she’s been hiding it from you all this time… the lines, of course, are belt-strikes. Those she never quite stopped howling at… did you?”

You’re not hurting me, I’m just mad!

The memory hit her like a belt-strike, the sound of her own voice in a hoarse attempt at a defiant roar, ragged from sobs and howls of pain. Her breath hitched in a sympathetic sob, and she felt a burning sensation at the bridge of her nose, an early warning that tears were coming. She closed her eyes tighter and willed it away.

Ma'am let go of her shoulder to run her hand slowly over her back, cold and menacing and still tipped by what the Lucky Few used to call her claws when she wasn’t around. Humiliation, rage and nausea washed over her in alternating waves as Ma'am’s hand dragged searchingly over her back, down to her buttocks.

“No marks here? Well, I suppose hatpins are too small to leave much. Remember why you got those?”

Katherine 857, stop squirming in your seat or I’ll give you something to squirm about!

“No,” Avedis lied, and swallowed back a surge of bile as the fog around her childhood started to dissipate. It used to irritate her, but now she wanted it back.

“I’ll have her call back sometime and tell you the story herself,” Ma'am told the camera, “when she’s had a chance to remember. You’ll find that all her best qualities are down to my instruction.” The hand curled into a claw and dragged back up to her shoulders, leaving a stinging trail. “I certainly can’t imagine a filthy bunch of brigands teaching you much,” she added into Avedis’s ear. “Your kind have nothing to contribute to the world.”

“I still prefer them,” Avedis growled, then caught her breath and braced for the sharp twist of a partial dislocation when she remembered where Ma'am’s hands were. It didn’t come, but she could taste blood from her lower lip. She’d forgotten she was biting it.

That happened a lot here.

The burn between her eyes intensified, and she took shallow, forced breaths to try to cool it. She was not going to cry. She was not seventeen. She’d come too far, done too well, grown too much to cry like the girl she’d been in here.

“Now,” said Ma'am, “Your name. For the record.”

“Ave–” That was as far as she got before the words were replaced by a choked cry she couldn’t quite silence in time as she felt the familiar push-and-wrench of Ma'am’s favorite punishment. Pain blossomed in her shoulder, running up to her neck.

Pinpricks raced down her arm to concentrate in her index finger. She didn’t need to try to move to know her arm wouldn’t respond right, knew not to try to move. Knew from lectures by the first person to call her by that diminutive that trying was just liable to make it worse. God, she was going to miss his fussing when this was over–not that she planned on admitting it if they ever met again. Ma'am dropped her arm, and she winced.

“Try again,” Ma'am snapped, seizing her other arm and twisting.

She wanted to give in, and she hated herself for it. She wanted to tell Ma'am whatever she wanted to hear, beg to keep her right arm functioning, even let her put her in manacles. She was almost willing to deal with the panic attack from having her wrists restrained, risk Ma'am finding out about what Sasha called a phobia and she still insisted was a minor peculiarity. It was almost better to endure what was likely the result of her first seventeen years than relive those years like this.

Almost.

She grit her teeth.

“Avedis K–”

Ma'am dug her nails into her skin this time as she shoved her arm up, then yanked it down and backward with practiced precision, kept them sunk in even afterward. Six nails drew blood. “Name!”

“Katherine, damn you! Katherine!” Her voice broke as she practically felt the words ripped from her throat, shoulders hunching in an approximation of her body’s instinct to curl up. Nothing in her tone but ragged desperation, shouting to keep from audibly sobbing. “God in Heaven, I kept it! It’s still there! Damn the numbers! Why do you care?! What does it prove?!”

“It proves that you understand what you are.”

Avedis stood silent for a moment, except for ragged, uneven breaths. Sweat had been beading on her forehead from her efforts at defiance for at least half of the ordeal. She leaned her head back, resting against the heavy collar around her neck, and a few drops ran down, framing her face.

As long as they weren’t tears.

She straightened. “Katherine 857,” she said slowly, opening her eyes, “is… is my name.”

Ma'am smiled, stepping back to look at her, the embodiment of smug satisfaction. “Good.”

“Avedis Katherine Risinger,” Avedis continued, a note of defiance returning to the rasping voice, “is what I am. And you can strip me down and… do it all to me again… I’m not going back. You–you can’t have me back. You can’t have her back.”

Ma'am’s expression soured. She took a step toward Avedis, then seemed to change her mind. Her gaze flicked to Avedis’s uniform, that she had so gleefully compelled her to shed, and her smile returned.

#bthb #bad things happen bingo #my card #avedis tag #whump #whump prompt #prompt filled #writing prompt #captivity #childhood trauma

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petrachord · 5 years

Text

astra inclinant (Chpt 2 out of 29)

Chapter Title: umbra

Translation: “shadow” or “ghost”

Fandom: One Piece

Links: AO3 and FFN

Once, Mother told him in secret that they’d wanted a second child for his sake.

“Why?” he asked and she had shook her head, an old little smile on her lips. She never did answer him, but Rosi arrived all the same.

He was very shy and meek, not one for confrontation. Did weird things like thanking and interacting with the slaves. Also cried. A lot.

They had nearly nothing in common, but he worshiped Doflamingo anyway. Followed him around everywhere and tried desperately to impress him. It gave Doflamingo all sorts of strange feelings inside he didn’t know how to account for. He supposed the slaves deferred to him as well, but Rosi was different. An equal. He didn’t have to constantly totter after him or call for him or really have anything to do with him at all.

But he seemed to want to. And he always did.

“I love you, brother,” Rosi would say sometimes, softly, as if he thought it needed to be said.

Doflamingo supposed he understood what Rosi meant. He appreciated Rosi’s love like he would a pretty sunrise—something he recognized at a distance and was always pleased by but could never quite fathom the idea of touching.

Not to say he didn’t try. Not to say he didn’t love him back in the only way he knew how.

“You are mine.”

===

It took a mere year for the Donquixote Family to make its name. They ran drug rings and slave trade, smuggling weapons to the hands of tyrants. Entire towns burned to the ground and grown men begged for the lives before expiring. There was blood enough for days.

Trebol and Diamante praised Doflamingo endlessly for their successes, attributing him to their growing power and the spreading horror of their names. It was rather funny how satisfied they were already.

Because he sure as fuck wasn’t.

The enterprise required expansion and when he turned seventeen, he declared they’d be taking their business to the seas. Pica and Diamante laughed uproariously, fantasizing of plunder and women and luxury. Trebol’s thoughts were of prestige and fame, rambling from then on about emperors and warlords.

Perhaps people like them could not understand. There was only one objective Doflamingo gave a rat’s ass about and that had nothing to do with treasure or the absurd system of the Shichibukai.

Only Vergo seemed to have half a clue.

“Piracy, huh?” he pondered once, leaning against the rail of their most recently…commandeered ship, “You’ve a knack for poetics, Doffy.”

Doflamingo rested his chin on a palm. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Going out onto the waves,” Vergo’s shades glinted beneath the noon rays, reflecting the crisp waters, “A full circle.”

Doflamingo snickered. He immensely enjoyed these moments of perception from Vergo.

“We’re all buried at sea.”

A small smile crossed Vergo’s lips as he lit another cigarette. The wind was blowing out to the waves, heady tobacco blending together with the salt spray. Doflamingo inhaled, focusing upon it.

And didn’t bother acknowledging the shadow of eight-year old Rosinante sitting on the rail between them.

===

The hallucinations had begun out of nowhere. One moment, Doflamingo was having the time of his life, pounding into some moaning tart in the backroom of a local pub and the next Rosi was standing at the edge of the bed, peering into his face.

Doflamingo swore, nearly crushing the girl in his rush to scramble off of her. His recent growth spurt had made him long and heavy, and the dresser tipped over when he kicked it accidentally.

The girl didn’t even seem to notice the thundering crash it made. She didn’t even seem to notice he was gone at all, as she lay sprawled on the bed still, gasping, a blush of pleasure across her snowy cheeks.

Doflamingo’s mouth went dry. Rosi straightened, hands behind his back, as if he were about to start rocking on his heels. He looked exactly the same as when Doflamingo had last seen him. Sweat and dirt-stained, clothes worn, that thumbprint of their father’s blood at the corner of his chin from where Doflamingo had touched him.

Rationally, it couldn't have been real. He still surveyed the islands across the North Blue and kept a tap on the local news, but had long stopped expecting anything. It had been seven years after all. At this point, Rosi was either dead or didn’t want to be found.

“No,” Doflamingo growled, “No, no, you don’t get to do this to me.”

“What was that, hon?” the girl murmured, eyes clearing, “Hey, what are you doing over there? Fun’s back this way, big boy.”

She sat up, slinking right past Rosi. Her long hair was still dark and wet with rainwater. She smelled of her muddy traipse through the storm when Diamante had demanded whores for company. A cool bird-like hand took him by the wrist, guiding it to her lily-white breast.

“Come on now,” she said softly, fingers resting over his knuckles, “Don’t be shy.”

Doflamingo yanked his hand back and made her jump.

“Shut up.” He pointed toward the side of the bed, right at Rosi’s blank face. “Do you see anything there? Just nod or shake your head.”

The girl looked startled, hesitating a beat that made Doflamingo want to smack her in his impatience. But then she turned, glancing at his brother without comprehension and shook her head.

Doflamingo refused to let the icy grip of panic take him.

“Get out,” he snarled to the girl and wrenched his pants off the floor, far from aroused anymore.

“W-What? But you still have an hour—“

“Did you not hear me?” Doflamingo grinned and the girl paled. For an incredible second, it almost seemed she wanted to keep protesting, before self-preservation kicked in and she nodded, scooping up the crumpled pile of her dress.

It wasn't until her footsteps had faded down the hall that he managed to turn himself around again. Rosi was still there, sitting on the upturned dresser and idly kicking his feet.

“What do you want?” Doflamingo asked quietly.

He was stared at. The expression was mostly blank, save for a faint shadow of reproach, of child-like disapproval with him that Doflamingo remembered so well his stomach curled. Fuck, he was too young to be going crazy.

“I looked for you,” he said, “I really did. But you were gone. I think you’re probably dead actually. You’re not here to blame me, are you?”

Rosi’s face softened. He hopped to his feet, touching the floorboards without a sound, and for a second, Doflamingo thought he was walking towards him and couldn’t stop himself from flinching.

But Rosi halted at the end of the bed, crouching near the post. He stared at Doflamingo, before looking down.

A dropped photograph lay half-wedged between linen and wood. It was yellowed and creased with too many folds. A young raven-haired girl hugging a woman in a wheelchair.

Doflamingo recognized the hair first. It had just been fanned out over the pillows only minutes ago after all and ah, that’s right, he’d chatted with her pimp, hadn’t he? And learned the whole tragic tale. A dying mother. A life of poverty. She sold herself for a handful of pills.

Diamante had laughed and laughed until he cried. (God, the sentiment in people, am I right Doffy?)

Doflamingo hadn't laughed. Fraying hair and brittle wrists had crowded his memory then. And coughing. Endless coughing.

Rosi stared at him, nearly bending backwards just to meet his gaze. The torn hem of a lilac dress was clutched between his fingers.

Doflamingo slid on his glasses.

In the end, he fucked no one and left over twice the entitled payment for the stunned woman, storming out of the pub and into the wet cloud-ridden dark. Diamante didn’t protest much, cowed beneath the seething blackness of Doflamingo’s glare.

The photograph was still in his hand, growing increasingly wet and ruined. His trembling grip crumpled it further. With a burst of crimson petulance, he thought about setting fire to the entire pub and tossing it into the flames.

Instead, it slipped through his fingers to lie in the rain.

Rosi was gone.

===

He kept coming back.

Every time Doflamingo tried to do anything even remotely interesting. Or further the many meticulous plans he’s laid out, Rosi would be there.

Sometimes, in the pristine satin robe of a Celestial Dragon. Sometimes, in the rags their father had reduced them to.

Always watching.

Over the next few years, Doflamingo grew used to seeing him in doorways and windows, seated at the table while Vergo made reports, or spattered with the guts of whomever Pica had slaughtered for laughing at his voice.

Ignoring him to do what he pleased resulted in nightmares. And a left eye that seared with such agony he once nearly gouged it out.

By that juncture, Doflamingo was sincerely contemplating if he'd gone insane. He’d done a vast amount of reading in his spare time, determined to educate himself, and concluded that at some point he'd suffered a psychotic break.

Doflamingo could not fathom why or when. He hardly thought he was broken.

But what else could this be? He wondered, standing in the rubble of another nameless town, Trebol giggling and Rosi huddled amongst the corpses, cradling Father’s head like a toy.

===

“You really should leave me alone.”

Doflamingo was twenty-three and Gold Roger had been dead for six years.

The Grand Line festered with impossible dreams. A torrent of skull sails poured in, each with their own silly little design and captain, here to pursue their silly little goals.

A new era was rumbling on the horizon. Unwritten history with the quill poised on the page. How Doflamingo fantasized about tearing a hole straight through it all. There were so many ideas rambling in his head these days, so many horrible and hilarious things to achieve.

The crew had grown like a rising swell. It sufficiently sized now to organize into individual teams and supervising officers. They were all misfits, orphans and freaks to some degree, ostracized and barely existing on the fringes of society. No one wanted them, which was a waste and a shame, because there was such talent to be found.

Lao G from death row and Jora from the streets. The latest recruit, Senor Pink, had been plucked out of the jaws of a loan shark and was blinking at him with puzzlement.

“Young Master?” He spoke, all caution, and Doflamingo’s gaze trailed down from the bookcase, where his still eight-year old brother swung his feet.

“It’s nothing,” he reassured, shoving aside his own surprise that he’d spoken out loud, “So a little lady’s smitten with you, is she?”

Senor Pink blushed as deep as his namesake. “W-Well it’s nothing very serious. Just a few dates really. But since we’re going to be docked here until the log pose updates, I just thought…uh…”

Doflamingo pretended to listen as he prattled on. He kept tabs on every interesting development and was already well-aware of Senor Pink’s pretty, pretty Russian. They were discussing marriage at this point, far beyond a “few dates,” and Doflamingo was not pleased at all that his subordinate thought to hide things from him. Trebol had already urged that the relationship needed ending by force, worried about a division in Pink’s loyalties. Having yet to see any evidence of this, Doflamingo hadn’t bothered. He liked Pink and didn't like suspecting family.

Even if things changed all the time.

“My dear Senor,” Doflamingo said, abruptly interrupting the other man, “Let’s just cut to the chase, shall we? You are lying and I’m frankly quite offended you presume me so easy to evade.”

Oho, he’d forgotten how white of a shade Senor Pink could turn. Even better than that petrified bird impression of Jora’s. A corner of Doflamingo, which was forever a ten year old boy burning in the flames, was alight with vicious glee. Fear was not nearly so practical as devotion, but it was fun to see all the same.

“I-I’m sorry, sir. I was going to tell you sooner, but there was just never…She thinks I’m a banker, she doesn’t know that I’m…well, I-I guess I’m afraid she might—“

“What, Pink?” Doflamingo tilted his head. “Leave you? Send the Marines after me? Is she a bigger problem than I’d initially thought?”

The man’s eyes widened. Fat beads of sweat trickled from his perfectly coiffed hair and he nearly stumbled over himself to correct him.

“What? No, no, Young Master, she’s not a threat at all. I-I swear she knows nothing. She’ll never know anything. You don’t have to waste your time.”

“Never a waste of time where my family’s concerned,” Doflamingo chided, smiling coolly, “I've been abundantly clear. Mistakes can be excused. But betrayal…”

“I would never betray you,” Senor Pink said, fists squeezing and voice thick, “Never. Not for anyone. Please, Young Master, leave her be. I-I’ll…I’ll break things off with her today if you want me to. Give me any punishment you see fit for lying.”

His head was bowed and oh god, he was close to tears, was it really so serious a thing, eheh. Doflamingo fiddled with his options. Something from the frozen depths of him mused on killing her anyway and making Senor Pink dispose of the body. He’d never been partial to the notion of sharing…

Fingertips brushed his elbow. Doflamingo blinked and Rosi was sitting on the desk with blood coming out of his eyes.

===

(Senor Pink cringed like a dog awaiting a kick when Doflamingo suddenly cursed, nails screeching against polished wood.

“You’ve picked the wrong time,” the Young Master snarled and terror wrung Pink's stomach a little harder. As far as captains went, the Young Master was in his own league. A towering god among men. Power exuded from his every pore, but he was still surprisingly generous and reasonable, even if impossible to predict.

And certainly while those rare moments of anger were frightening beyond description, crew members were never subjected to it as long as they remained useful and did as they were told. He always made his expectations so very clear and Senor Pink would not dare resent him for that.

No, everything had simply been his own fault. He’d fucked up for real and now he’d never see or hear or touch her again.

“Get lost.”

Senor Pink stiffened.

“I said get lost, Rosi.”

Senor Pink raised his head).

===

“…Sir?”

Doflamingo’s jaw creaked as he glared into Rosi’s stained and dirty face, ignoring the shudder that echoed through his soul.

“Young Master?” a voice warbled through his senses, “Who are you…?”

Doflamingo turned back to Senor Pink, who flinched just at his gaze. He made a single alarmed glance at the empty space Doflamingo had been snapping at and did not attempt to move or speak again.

Eyes narrowed, Doflamingo considered the man impatiently. He had an inkling then of what would send Rosi away. It wasn’t the statement he’d prefer to make and he would probably never hear the end of it from Trebol, but he wanted Pink gone now.

“…If you watch her well,” he said slowly, “And never forget where your loyalties lie…then I could care less what you do.”

Senor Pink gaped, his previous unease crushed instantly beneath the weight of hope.

“S-Sir, do you mean…a-and it’s okay if we…”

Doflamingo sighed, resisting the urge to rub his temples. Oh well, he was bored of this whole situation anyway.

“Don’t lie to me again. Now get out.”

Senor Pink bowed so low his forehead was nearly level with the desk. He didn’t dare to ask what had changed his mind.

“Thank you, Young Master,” he said, voice trembling, “For your forgiveness.”

Doflamingo snorted as the door clicked shut after him. Forgiveness, huh?

“What the hell do you think you're playing at?"

But he was already in the room alone.

#donquixote rosinante #donquixote doflamingo #donquixote rocinante #donquixote corazon #op fanfiction #one piece #astra inclinant #my writing

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nomimits7 · 5 years

Text

Mission Bangtan | 10

Title: MISSION BANGTAN pt10

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Ratings: M

Warnings: language. Future violence. Talk of abuse.

Summary: As a professional eliminator you are ordered to get rid of Bangtan. A group of trained fighters hiding behind the mask of BTS. Your mission is successful until you get to know them. Will Y/N be able to complete the mission, or will she end up protecting her target from the real danger?

Its finally here ! Thank you so much @feed-my-geek-soul

Its strange how the whole execution of the plan went so smoothly. The only obstacle standing in your way is the same man currently holding your gaze. None of the others had any problem as they all executed their parts flawlessly. Yet you never anticipated to come face to face a, rather unexpected problem.

“You’re telling me you came back to destroy me?” Patrick spat as he sat behind his shield of glass. You see when you entered and disabled the security system the whole academy went into shut down mode and your target was, oh-so-conveniently, trapped inside his office space while you were trapped on the outside. So close, yet so far.

You had thought of every single outcome of today and yet you failed to think of a shutdown situation. To make matters worse the glass separating you was bulletproof and 10 inches thick. Your only way of communicating was through a speaker system. Your day had rapidly taken a turn for the worse, Jimin could not even enter through the air vents as there was no opening in his office. Yoongi was in the same room as you, somewhere. And Tae had already tried breaking through Patricks barrier. Jungkook was working on disabling the whole system and Namjoon was stranded on the outside. You had no idea where Hoseok and Seokjin were and Z was also missing.

You were beyond frustrated as you exhausted your options. You were about try and rile him up when another voice stopped you.

“Its so nice to be home, do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this day? For the change to return to my real family? These idiots could never understand me as well as you did, sir. But I had to pretend in order to return, and it looks like I’ve brought you what you always wanted. The six boys are yours to do as you please, you can even kill them for all I care. Oh, and Y/N to. She’s a smart one, but maybe too smart for her own good”

As you slowly turned your blood ran cold as you stared into those observing eyes of non-other than Min Yoongi. He had a smirk on his lips as he slowly stepped forward and nodded to Patrick, who had a similar smirk plastered across his face.

Min Yoongi

Age: 25

Skills: Being still. He’s the opposite of Hobi. Specializes in the element of surprise. Not much is known of him.

Fuck… How could you forget that you were never fully aware of what he was capable of? This, this man you had came to trust just turned on the people he called his brothers. Were you really that blind to not notice it was all an act? It was so believable. He made a fool of you, the naïve little girl who fell for his lies and believed he was different.

“You motherfucker…” You hissed. As the tension grew Jimin emerged from the air vents, Hoseok and Seokjin entered the room and Yoongi, somehow joined Patrick in his office. How did he-

“Huyng?” was all Jimin could say as the others watched.

“I always knew I could never trust you, you bastard! All those years you were so silent, never even trying to join in with the rest of us unless we were to do something on stage. Bangtan would be better off without you Yoongi!” Tae spat as you all gasped.

He used no honorifics, meaning he no longer saw Yoongi as someone he should honour. Yoongi’s eyes grew darker as he smirked.

“You always were the wild card, Taehyung-ah. Guess you can’t handle someone stealing your moves.” Yoongi laughed as he stared Tae down.

“I always knew I liked you more Yoongi, or should I call you Agust D? Or do you have a new code name?” Patrick piped up as he smiled at his new ally.

“I wonder what Z would say if she heard you now… oh she’d be so disappointed in you Patrick” You said. This made Patrick freeze, His face became ghost-like as your words struck a sensitive cord. Bingo…

Even if Yoongi betraying you weren’t part of the plan you still had a mission to complete. “Maybe I should just ask Z myself...” You said as you reached for your phone.

Patricks face was a mix of surprise and grief as he watched you. “She’s gone, how are you going to ask her? Your more delusional than I thought.” Patrick said.

…Dialing Z… “We’ll see. If you don’t believe me ask your new recruited, he saw her too.”

“Z? Why don’t you join us… it looks like Patrick’s here doesn’t quite believe you’re alive” As you ended the call the doors swung open to reveal none other than Z. Namjoon and Jungkook at her back as she entered the room. Seeing Z, Patrick fell to his knees as tears filled his eyes.

“Z? Angel is that really you? Oh, my sweat flower I’ve missed you so much…” Patrick said as he held Z’s gaze. Her eyes were also filled with tears as she stopped next to you.

“My love, what have you done?” was all she could ask.

Patricks Flashback:

My heart was broken as I watched the casket get lowered into the ground. My one and only love, the light of my miserable life had left me. I should never have sent her on that mission. Its all my fault that I had to bury the one person that always saw the best in me. The one person who made me become the best I could be. The one for who I stole a child. She always admired that seven-year-old girl. Y/N was unique, and Z wanted her more than anything. But then that mission came and stole her from me. She taught Y/N so much in the shallow two years she had her. Then she left us, she left me. From that day on I decided that I would destroy the ones who destroyed my life. I changed the Academy into one of destruction. I trained my people to get rid of the evil of this world. But then those seven boys left me. They were my best men and they too decided to leave me. I only had Y/N. But she was stubborn, I had to break her.

I took something very precious from her on her sixteenth birthday. She became quiet, distant but obedient. It broke me to see her that way. In return my heart became cold, she was my most prized possession and I wanted her to be mine. And only mine.

Yet again life had other plans as I came to learn those seven traitors were living as idols. Bangtan, world known singers. A hatred took over my every sense as I send out man after man to get rid of them, but they always escaped. Then I decided to send her, Y/N. I knew she’d be able to take them down, but then they turned her against me.

I lost everything. My Y/N, My seven best… my Z. I never wanted to destroy any of them. I lost control when I lost Z. I lost my sanity when I lost those seven boys. I lost my last ray of sunshine when I lost Y/N.

Word could never explain how I felt, still feels.

Patrick was a crying mess on the floor. Yoongi by his side. He was a broken man.

“Well, mission complete” Yoongi said as he bound Patricks hands.

“Wait you were acting ??” Jungkook said as shock overtook everyone’s faces.

“Well duh! I taught him how. Why do you think we spend so much time together star gazing each evening?” Tae said as he smiled at the clear confusion in the room.

With the security shutdown disabled Z ran to Patrick’s arms. She knew she had to answer for her crimes as well, but she was finally happy. Patrick was like a new person. He looked, happy. He looked like a human.

Soon the authorities came and took them away, they would be spending the rest of their days behind bars, they didn’t really complain as they would be together in the end. The Academy was destroyed, and all the Trainees were given the choice of either joining the special forces or returning to their homes and normal lives.

No one saw Bangtan as they hid away in the shadows. When everyone left, they returned to you.

“Y/N, Let’s go home, shall we?” Namjoon asked as they all headed towards the vans.

“You guys go ahead I just have a few things I want to gather from my old room here. I’ll meet you all back at the dorm?” You said with a smile. He nodded and left you.

You were sitting in your old room for about five minutes when you suddenly felt as if something was missing. You still had so much to learn. You were so thankful for the people you met,

Suga, Jimin, Jin, Namjoon, J-Hope, Jungkook and V

These seven boys gave you your life back. And for that you are even thankful.

Arriving back home the boys found a CD addressed to them. Placing the disc in the DVD player they all sat in their lounge eagerly waiting to see what this CD could contain. Being Idols and discovering CD’s in their dorm was no surprise, it was quite common.

What they did not expect it to see your face, or hearing your voice…

“Hi boys. So, mission complete!! I can’t explain how it feels to know we finally took out the Academy. I know you all must be confused as to why I’m on the screen and not there in person. I overheard one of your discussions with your managers and I know that I’ll be the reason you stop what you all love, which is to sing and perform. You have a whole fandom out there depending on you and you can’t stop now. I to still have some soul searching left to do and I don’t want to be the reason you all end up unhappy… That’s why I decided to disappear. Once I feel like it’s time, I’ll return to you, but you all have your own lives now. Thank you all for saving me. You’ll always be in my heart. Remember I’m never far. Goodbye Boys”

With that the CD ejects. The room was silent as the boys struggled to understand why you left. They felt as if they truly lost a member of their sacred circle.

It’s been around three weeks since the boys saw the CD. Since then, they returned to their Idol careers. They were the newest sensation of the kpop industry, and their schedules were packed with concerts. Even though losing you made them sad, they knew it was what was best for you.

They tried forgetting you, yet they sometimes thought they saw you amongst the crowds. They never knew for sure for just as soon as they saw you, you were gone.

These sightings weren’t their imagination. You always attended their concerts. You loved seeing them flourish in their new-found love. You became part of the sea of purple.

You were always close like you promised them, hiding in the shadows you watched over them as they reached higher and higher.

Maybe one day you’ll come out of the shadows, but for now you were more than happy just being their shadow.

This marks the end of the road! thank you to everyone who read this and please don’t hesitate to ask any questions!

Till next time

Xoxo <3

Tag list: @boombablya @sparky-isnt-a-vampire @aqilahahmadx @wavejhs @moniebuns @shani-8617 @jojohibyehi @xxqueenwxtchxx @treetops68 @cherrycezzie @whope123 @dragon-rider-with-a-book @justsome-ghost @theperksofbeingacupcakequee-blog @candylover1001 @xxgothickxx @xsunnyhoseokx @therandomfandomblogofmany

#bts #mission bangtan #ot7 x reader #final #bts x reader

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lemonjoonah · 6 years

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Under Fire - Pt 3

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Title: Under Fire Word Count: 6K Rating: M Genre: Gang AU, Drama Warnings: Violence Pairings : Hyung Line x Reader (Primarily Namjoon x Reader), very slight OT7 x Reader. Pairings (in this chapter): Namjoon x Reader, Jin x Reader, Jimin x Reader, Hobi x Reader.

Summary: As a child you lived among the most wealthy and powerful, after the death of your mother you were shipped off to stay with her sister. Even after finishing your education you continue to live apart from the elite, but a visit home creates an unexpected disaster. You are suddenly roped into a darker world, and who better to be your guide than the infamous gang known as BTS.

Chapter 3 - Collateral Damage

POV (Y/N)

Namjoon is followed in by two others, one who you vaguely remember from the manor, and another you have yet to meet. But, after hearing you shout Namjoon’s name in anger, they both make a u-turn heading back to the door.

“V, Jimin, you don’t have to leave,” pleads Namjoon.

“I think it would be better if we did Namjoon, this conversation sounds too arduous for my taste.” The member called V places an odd emphasis on Namjoon’s name. “Jin let us know when she is finished with him, I would like to introduce myself properly.

Jin nods looking very intently at my shoulder, probably uncomfortable by the fact that he has to stay by default.

You shake your head in disbelief, “How... how is this possible? I checked the database the day you introduced yourself. You have no record! Are you telling me that my father intentionally sent a lone gang member to my apartment, without so much as a warning?

Jin speaks up without even raising his head, “He actually sent the gang leader.” Namjoon glares at him, Jin continues to stitch the wound, ignoring Namjoon.

“Why? Why would he send you? My father has more than enough money to hire a whole security team.”

“People are easily bought, loyalty is not. I was glad Park trusted me enough to protect you, to keep you hidden. I felt sorry for your situation. After the attack I was worried to leave you alone. I tried to convey to Park what you revealed to me...”

You cut him off, “Oh god, I told you that I was lonely, I told you that I was scared, and then you ki...” Your hands went to you face and you groan unable to finish the sentence it’s so embarrassing. If the kiss had been based on attraction, like you originally hoped, it would have been fine, but no, you had unknowingly taken comfort in his pity. Jin thinking that you can’t see him, looks over at Namjoon mouthing the words, what did you do?

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have made contact your father advised against it.”

“Did he?” You whisper, you can't decide if you are more upset about the kiss or your father’s determination to keep you in the dark. The room falls quiet. Jin takes this time to finish stitching the wound together. You close your eyes focusing on the pain.

“Your father and I... we were very close, I could tell that you meant the world to him.” Namjoon murmurs.

Your eyes flash open again to pierce him with your gaze as you scoff, “You just contradicted yourself. Either my father didn’t care about you and your line of work, or he didn’t trust me enough to handle the truth. I am beginning to think the latter.”

“He wanted to keep you safe.” He defends, his voice rising with mine.

I sat up making the move to stand, Jin trying to hold me in place. “Bullshit! How did he think that this was going to end? Did he think that he was just going to pass on peacefully with no pending vendettas against him, did he think I wouldn’t find out? If he really cared about my safety he would have told me, he could have trained me. If I had been prepared he might not be dead right now,” You lash out with tears.

“(Y/N), I need you to calm down. RM maybe you should leave.” Jin urges.

Instead he comes closer and helps Jin lay you back down on the table. He looks you straight in the eye, “Seven against one are odds that even someone with training can’t beat. This was not your fault. He never want you to face any of this, he didn’t tell you so that you could live your life without fear.”

Your anger continues to grow, “Do you know why I hacked into the criminal documents at the police department?”

He shakes his head.

“I was constantly surrounded by anomalies, people who knew my name before I told them, people who didn’t seem to have a past, people who threw around their money that they earned doing “freelance work.” I went to the police to tell them that I felt like I was being followed, but to them I was just a paranoid and delusional girl. I did my own research. They all had records drug dealing, assault, ect. I would try to distance myself but then along would come someone else. I was inexplicably happy the day you arrived in my store. Your actions proved to me that I wasn’t crazy. There had to be some other driving force luring these people to me, something more than my family name, if someone else knew that I need protection. I was never safe, just uninformed and afraid.”

Namjoon doesn’t respond.

You look over at Jin who has finished stitching. He stammers realizing that he is staring, “How does it feel? I have to disinfect it one last time. Brace yourself, it’s going to hurt.” Namjoon looks like he is going to reach out for your hand, but you pull it away. The pain is so excruciating you grip the table instead, knuckles turning white.

You could feel Jin’s warm hands through the bandage as he presses it to your shoulder. “I need you to stay in this room for a day or two so we can monitor your vitals. I had to give you a blood transfusion, and I want to observe how you respond to the medication. I’ll go fetch you some fresh clothes. Namjoon could you move her over to the bed?” He nods as Jin leaves the room. Sitting you up and lifting you in his arms he’s careful not to touch your skin. He rests you down so that you are sitting on the sheets. Crouching before you he takes you hands in his.

He pulls something out of his pocket and places it in your clasped hand, it’s your father’s ring, your families ring. You know his intention in giving it is to comfort you, but feels like just another slap in the face. Your anger dissolves into sadness, tears finally streaming down your face. He hesitates before reaching up and wiping one away with his thumb. You feel bad for taking out your anger on Namjoon, it wasn’t his fault that your father had wanted to keep this hidden.

Jin returns. “RM I leave you for one moment and here you are driving my patient to tears, OUT!”

Namjoon protests.

“Unless (Y/N) doesn’t mind you staying here while she changes?” Jin askes.

He turns bright red, dropping your hand he apologizes, and leaves without another word.

“Works every time.” Jin smiles and laughs to himself, “Put him in an awkward situation and he freezes right up. I hope these fit we don’t have to many clothes that’ll suite you. We never thought we would need to keep a stock of women’s clothes in our safehouse.” In addition to the clothes he also brought a basin of warm water and a few towels. “I’ll just be cleaning up my instruments if you need help.” He drew a curtain to give me some privacy.

The sweat pants weren’t a problem, the shirt on the on the other hand. “Jin?”

“Yes?”

“I might need another pair of hands.”

The shirt is stuck to you, dried blood gluing it to your skin, a difficult task even if both your arms were working. “I think we’ll have to cut it off.” He looks a little uncomfortable but proceeds anyway.

“It’s a good thing you don’t freeze up during awkward situations too.”

He smiles, “I can’t afford to, someone has to be the mature one of the group.”

You hold a sheet to your chest as he cuts the last of the shirt off. You unhooked your bra at the same time and slip it off. “Let me wash your back for you, you’re not going to be able to reach all the blood,” Jin offers.

“Thank you I’ll be honest I didn’t expect...”

“Gang members to act this way? Not all do obviously. I don’t have the typical upbringing that most gang members have had. I was part of a political family, always in the spotlight, I have tried to hold on to the manners and social graces passed down to me.”

You had often interacted with other political families as a child. The memory of a childhood crush comes to the forefront of your mind, one that you hadn’t thought about it years. You understand why Jin looks so familiar now. You turn around to face him, a bloody cloth resides in his hand, a confused expression appears on his face. Looking into his eyes, you question his name, “Seokjin?”

His smile is so great that it crinkles his eyes, “I thought that you would never recognize this handsome face.” An air of laughter in his voice.

You smile back reaching slowly up to his face. “How long has it been?”

He cups your hand to his cheek, “18 years, not since the funeral...”

When your mom died..when you moved to the countryside to be with her sister, that was when your whole life changed. You can’t help but regret your father’s decision to ship you off now.

While you are lost in your thoughts, he abruptly pulls your hand away. Clearing his throat he changes his tone back to that of an acquaintance, becoming uncomfortably professional. “If you could please call me Jin... I have left that other name behind. It would probably be best to call Namjoon RM as well, some of the guys get uneasy when we use real names.”

“Of course Jin but why are you here now. What happened?”

“I’ll have to save that story for another time.” He pulls out a zip up sweater and tries stretching out your weak arm slowly pulling the sleeve up the length of it. After pulling your other arm through he comes around and front and zips it up. You pull the sheet out from underneath.

“I never thought that I would see you again. Thank you Jin for everything.” He beams at you but you can’t help but feel that he is hiding more than he lets on.

“I’m going to give you some painkillers, and take first watch. Jimin will be in later while I get some rest. If you need to reach me, please use that button.” He points to a remote on the bedside table. He settles into the chair beside your bed. After plugging in your IV he holds you hand until you fall asleep... just like he used to.

POV Jin

You fall asleep quicker than I anticipate. I run my hands through my hair. I still can’t believe that you remember me, I’m not sure if I should be happy that you can recall my name after 18 years apart, or upset that you know me from my previous life. You are the only good period in a past that I want to forget so much. While you sleep I sit in the chair next to you, my head resting in my hands, while I monitor your vitals.

RM returns an hour later. I let a sigh escapes me, now it is my turn to fess up. I look at RM through my fingers, elbows’ still on my knees to support my heavy head.

“I knew Park had a daughter.”

“I figured as much.”

“How?..”

“When I let then news drop you were the only one who stayed quiet, you Jin, you have an opinion on everything.”

I chuckle. “We used to play together as kids in my other life. Our fathers were close before... well, you know... They were more than friends, more than colleagues, they were like brothers. After the incident she moved away and I haven’t seen her since. Almost 20 years later she still remembers me. Park told me not to say anything, he said that it was for the best. I question it now though, was he right to make that decision? It seems like she has dealt with more hardships than we were aware of.”

RM looks over at you.

“She’s out cold there was a light sedative with her pain medication, she won’t wake for at least a few hours.” I inform him.

RM takes a deep breath, “I think it was wrong of him to make that decision for her. I want to bring her into the fold, but in order to do that I am going to need your help. Now that her father has pass and without his approval she will be understandably cautious. ”

I open my mouth to argue, but RM continues.

“I know, I’m sorry there are going to be things that you aren’t going to want to discuss but she is from your world originally. Not only that but she has worked alone to survive for so many years, she may not want to rely on us for help. You and Hope need to show her your kindness, and Suga will show her the outside threat. If you succeed, we can all show her how sweet revenge is.”

POV (Y/N)

You wake with the sun beaming onto your face. Lifting your hand to cover your eyes you grimace in pain.

“Morning sleepy head.”

“What time is it?”

“Almost noon.”

You open your eyes, the bare white walls instantly reminding you of your situation. You rolled over in tears hoping that sleep would claim you again, so you didn’t have to face the truth yet. You hadn’t completely processed the situation last night, but that doesn’t change the facts, you are the last remaining member of the Park line, no more father, no mother, no siblings. You are alone...

You feel a finger poke your back. “Is there anything I can get you?” As your breathing hitches noisily, you hear Jimin take a step back.

“I just need some privacy.”

“You missed breakfast, what do you want to eat?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Jin’s not going to like...”

“Please Jimin,” you beg cutting hit off. “I just want to be alone.”

He gives in, “I’ll be outside the door if you need me.”

You cover your face and let out a wail of sadness which dissolves into more tears. Alone again, you will have to get used to this. Although you did not see you father very much having him there occasionally was better than not at all. His secrets hurt you deeply, the same questions running through your head over and over. What exactly was he using this team for that he couldn’t tell you? Had he not realized the pain he was putting you through? Is it okay to be angry with him even though he paid the ultimate price for it all? Your mind teeters between grief and anger only to be distracted hours later by the sound of a row outside.

“She wants privacy!” Exclaimes Jimin.

“I want to make sure that she is okay.” You hear Namjoon respond.

“Did she push the button?”

There is a pause before Namjoon answers, “No.”

“Then I’m not letting you in, she will come out when she wants to. Give her time.”

Namjoon swears loudly but the sound of his footsteps leading away reaches your ears. You feel a surge of gratefulness toward Jimin as you don’t want anyone to see you like this especially Namjoon. You want to be strong in front of him and knowing that he was your father’s right hand man would make you crumble again instantly.

You partially unzip your sweater to take a look at the wound, the pain has returned, and the bandage is somewhat bloody. You look around the room. Two doors, one the exit, the other must be the bathroom. You thank the gods that you won’t have to leave the room to use the toilet. You push yourself to the edge of the bed, testing your legs on the floor before making the trek.

Looking in the mirror was a mistake. Your hair the consistency of a mop, eyes extremely puffy. You hadn’t noticed last night that Jin had placed a bandage on your neck as well. You tie your hair back with the elastic on your wrist.

After relieving yourself, you are heading back to bed when pain overwhelms you, hitting with a wave of dizziness to top it off. You reach out to grab the table next to you to steady yourself, but your blurry vision prevents you from seeing Jin’s surgery tray resting near the edge. There is a large clatter as both you and the tray fall to the floor . You swear loudly.

Jimin came barging through the door. “Are you okay?” He kneels down to you assessing your condition. You look to the floor taking a moment to pull yourself together. He craned his head under yours looking up at your face. “You should have called for help, I was just outside if you needed me remember?”

“I’m used to getting by on my own, I just got dizzy.”

“Getting by with a gunshot wound?” He asks skeptically. “You’re probably in a lot of pain aren’t you?”

You look away embarrassed by his proximity.

“Let me help you.” You begin to shake your head.

“It wasn’t a question.” He lifts you up, taking you back over to the bed. “You need more pain medicine. I’ll call Jin, he’ll want to know you’re up,” he pulls out his phone before you could protest. He takes a few steps away from your bed pacing as he talks to Jin.

You try not to listen in on their conversation, disliking the act of having to listening to people talk about you. Jimin comes back over to you but now he was the one who looks embarrassed.

“Thank you for earlier with RM, I know that it probably wasn’t easy going against your leader like that.”

“Oh you heard that?” He says growing more flustered, “I just know that if it was me I would need time to collect my thoughts.”

You agree nodding, “And sorry about the height joke yesterday.”

That earns a full laugh from him. “I’m surprised you even remember that, it’s fine really, not like I haven’t heard them all before.

Jin walks in the door with a tray, “I brought food I thought you might be hungry, Jimin I brought yours too. How are you feeling?”

He puts a hand to your forehead. “No fever that’s good, let’s check your...wound” He hesitates on your sweater, still partially unzipped, solving the mystery of Jimin’s abashedness.

After his examination Jin makes sure to zip your sweater back up to the top. “Stitches seem to be holding, take this.” He hands you more pain medication and a glass of water.

You watch Jin out of the corner of your eye as he walks back to the food tray. He slaps the back of Jimin’s head along the way, whispering and gesturing to you. You try to look absorbed in your own thoughts while drinking your water but a snort of laughter sneaks through. Jin carries your food over to you. “Hope you like black bean noodles.” You nod eyes wide, unable to remember the last time that someone made food for you like this.

In the distance you could hear the smoke detector. “Never should have left RM in charge of the stove.” Jin muttered under his breath leaving swiftly.

Jimin had just picked up his dinner and looked as if a dilemma was raging inside of him. Defeat showing in his slumped shoulders he turns towards the door bowl in hand.

“Jimin could you stay and eat with me?”

He turns his head to give you a beautiful smile. “Of course.”

You both ate in silence for the most part, but it was nice to have someone else there. You run one question over and over in your head try to figure out the best way to phrase the query. “Jimin if you don’t mind me asking how did you meet my father?”

“You mean how did I come to be in a gang?” He smirks, seeing right through you. He then hesitates and lowers his head.

“I’m sorry it was rude of me to ask, I’m sure it’s personal.”

“Your right it is personal. Not many people join gangs out of desire, for most of us membership was the only path to survival. I used to work in films as a stunt double, I specialized in sword fighting. My work was my life I loved the beauty of the movements and the complexity they reached. I still look back in on that time fondly, however I reached a dry spell with my career, no one was creating films with old style fighting scenes. I tried to broaden my horizon with other stunts but ended up injuring myself during a car chase scene. Unable to work I quickly fell into debt and stared owing money to the wrong kind of people. I never should have listened to the other actors when they said that they had connections to borrow money, by connections they meant drug dealers.”

He pauses, a pained look appears on his face as he begins to speak again. “They came for me one night when I was late on a payment. As they beat me to a pulp, they debated if they were going to sell me on the market, thinking that my looks might make them a profit. I fought off most of them but they hit back hard. They left me for dead in the alley when they realized that I wasn’t such and easy target.”

I shivered as I thought of my own experience, imagining the fear and pain he must have felt. “RM found me, and Jin fixed me up. They told your father I would be an asset to the team with the experience I had. Your father paid off my debts and placed me under his protection. I was proud to be on his team. I never felt like I was going against my conscience with the jobs he gave us. He was a good man.”

“What kind of work do you guys do?”

“Not sure that I am the best one to explain it, RM will have to fill you in.”

I look at my watch, it was approaching 6pm. I don’t want to put this off any longer, “ Could I meet the rest of the team, I wouldn’t mind getting out of this room.”

“I can always call them up here but if you’re really determined Jin said that they will be in downstairs in the kitchen.”

“I think I can handle that, stairs will be the easiest obstacle I’ve had all week.”

“Before talking to them you should know, some of the other members are a bit more private about their life before joining. I would let them approach the subject first rather than asking.” You nod, his concern for his fellow members is admirable.

With food inside you and feeling a bit more stable, making it to the stairs under your own power. You grip the railing as you go down, Jimin holding on to your side ready to catch you if you end up going head first. You examine your surroundings as you descend. “I thought Jin said this was a safe house, this place is huge.”

“It‘s more like our city residence. Park wanted us to be comfortable, and the location is more convenient than the manor for running ops,” Jimin explains.

Just to the side of the kitchen there it a long table with eight chairs. Namjoon is seated at the head, Jin to his right, JHope next to Jin, with an empty seat beside Hope.

The three seats on the other side of namjoon are occupied by those who you have not yet met officially although you think you might have had a brief glance at the boy in the middle last night. Jimin pulls out the chair at the end for you.

“Sorry to interrupt.”

“No need to apologize this is perfect timing, let me introduce Suga, V, and JK.” Namjoon responds kindly.

You bow your head to them, silence creeps into the room. Everyone’s eyes are down cast no one looking directly at you, a truly somber meeting. How much did your father mean to them? It seems like he might have been more than just a patron.

“I would like to thank you all for last night, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now if it wasn’t for your help.”

“We had our orders, “Get her out, and keep her safe.” Suga mutters. He earns an elbow to the side from V.

“I apologize if they seem rude.” Jin glares at Suga. “Only RM and I knew of your existence until yesterday.”

“I can relate. You are not going to disrespect me by being honest. I wish I could have saved him, I know that you would rather have him sitting here instead of me”

J-Hope responds, “Your father treated all of us like a family. He saved us all and brought us together. His last request was for us to save you. I am thankful that we were able to fulfill that wish.” You give him a small smile which he returns. You can’t help but feel that he might have been more of a father to them than he was to you.

Your fingers fumble on the ring in your pocket. You reassure yourself that this is the right decision before placing it on the table. You look Namjoon dead in the eye trying to show confidence in your choice. “I will leave this in your care, it was always intended to symbolize the passing of familial duties. I don’t think I can live up to that task anymore,” you smile sadly. “I’m sorry to intrude on your space, I’ll be out of your hair by Monday, I have my ticket already booked.”

V’s eyes widen looking at you,“ Your father’s will specified that you were the single heir, you know what you are to inherrate right? A multi billion dollar fortune.”

You nod your head. “I never wanted to live like this lifestyle thought, why do you think I work at a bookstore? The thought of being an heiress with political ties...” You shiver with anxiety, “I wanted to have a normal life away from the spotlight, and I still dot.”

V opens his mouth again only uttering one word, “but...”

Namjoon continues when V’s words fail. “What V is trying to say is that it is no longer safe for you to return to your old life. GOT7 is already aware of your status, and news will spread fast. Not only was Park a rich political advocate but he was also the patron and founder of BTS. Other gangs will see you as a commodity and a threat with Park gone. The original plan, if anything like this happened, was to disband, but there is too much at stake right now. In addition we now have a debt to collect from GOT7.”

“What do you expect me to do, take on my father’s role? Be your financial backer no questions asked? I don’t need to stay here. I have my own life, I can take care of myself.”

“You could barely take care of yourself before.” He retorts.

“What is that supposed to mean?” As you ask it occurs to you that last week might not have been his first trip to Busan. “How long have you been watching me RM?!” You snap back.

He flinches, you are unsure if it was the change of name or you calling him out.

“There were several targets that I monitored over the years. I took them out before they could get too close. Imagine what it will be like now, with the secret out.”

“How many?!” You yell your patience growing thin.

The other members look to Namjoon as if they are also interested in that information.

“11 maybe 12.” Namjoon mutters.

“Aissh, this is why I don’t like to be kept in the dark! I need transparency not a protector, then maybe I can be ready for what will come. Monday morning I will be on that train.”

“I am telling you it’s not safe.”

The other members heads swiveled back and forth as if watching a tennis match.

“Well then I guess lucky 13 will finish me off, but at least I’ll die on my own terms, my own risk.”

“Is that what your father would have wanted?”

Your heart stops, unable to believe harshness of the words he just delivered. “Don't you fucking dare, how dare you turn this on me?! How the hell should I know, the man lied to me my whole life, how would I know what he wanted?” You storm out of the room. You make it halfway up the stairs before collapsing in sobs while clutching your shoulder.

POV RM

Jin looks at me, “Well that went well.”

I place my hand on my face pinching my brow.

“JK I need you to hack into the street cams around her work and apartment in Busan I’ll give you the addresses, we need to prove to her that her past life has been compromised.”

Jk nods, and retreats to his computer den.

“What is your plan for her RM?” asks Jimin.

“She has potential you all have seen that, she could be more than just a backer. I tried to explain this to Park a week ago but now we have to bring her in. J-Hope you got what I asked?”

“Right here,” He smiles lifting the bags.

“She’s going to need a hand if you could help her.” I ask of him.

“You are to be a perfect gentleman, do you hear me?.” Jin adds.

“I always am.” He laughs, running off.

“Suga I’ll need you to take her out after like we discussed.”

He nods, “I never thought I would see the day that someone could shut you down so easily RM. That is a skill set worth keeping close.” A smirk clearly displayed on his face at my expense.

“As her acting physician, I really must advise against this. She needs rest.” Jin warns

“Either we do this now, or we find her sneaking out in the middle of the night. I’m sure you can see how determined she is, she will completely underestimate the amount of danger she’s in.

“We’ll maybe if you didn’t insult her...” V starts but then tapers off.

I scowl at him and give him a task to focus on, “V I need you to take her to the bank tomorrow. With the news out about her father, she should claim her inheritance as soon as possible.” I issue one last order,“Jin you and I will need to prepare the funeral arrangements.”

POV J-Hope

I find you seated on the steps halfway up, you body trembling, and breathing ragged, but no tears. “Are you okay?” You respond by shaking your head. “Let’s move you off the stairs then.”

Hoisting you up I take you to your new room. I was confident that you would find it far more comfortable than Jin’s sterile office . I sit you down at the foot of the bed and couch in front of you. Resting a hand on you pale forearm I wait for your anxiety to lessen before speaking again.

“How does your arm feel?”

“Numb, I can’t feel much right now.”

I couldn't be sure if you were referring to the pain or your circumstances. I nod, not pushing the issue, instead I start pulling off the bags that a had kept on my arm. Pushing a smile on my face trying to stay positive, “I bought you some clothes, just went off the sizes of what you were wearing, I hope everything fits okay.” You pull out an oversize white hoodie, a black shirt and black leggings in addition to some undergarments.

“Wow you pick these out too?” You ask holding up the green underwear.

If you are expecting to get a rise out of me it definitely works. Blushing I stammer, “No! The sales women chose those.” I fail to mention that the associate did ask what my favourite colour was. “There is a shower in there if you want to freshen up, Jin suggested keeping the bandage on.”

The second you start unzipping your hoodie I jump back in further embarrassment. “Could you hand me that towel to cover myself. I am going to need help taking this off.” You shove the towel up your shirt. I hold the sleeve as you retract your good arm. I pull the sweater around exposing your back, you attempt to straighten your other arm, only to be followed by a gasp of pain.

“Easy there take it slow.” I help you by moving the fabric around so no further movement is needed from your arm. After you head to the bathroom I lay back on the bed trying to cool my heated face.

Parks daughter, I could definitely see similarities in there determination, but they are very different when it comes to emotions, you wear yours on your sleeve, whereas Park buried his beneath. Will you be able to handle the pressure? You will have to rely on us far more than Park did, not that I would mind.

The water stops after 10 minutes or so, I hear another yep of pain not long after, I rush to the door. “Need help?”

“Unless you can put my bra on for me I’m good.”

I panic, “Should I get Jin?”

“No I’ve almost got it.”

A few minutes later you came out in leggings and a t-shirt, holding the hoodie, “Could you?”

You don’t have to finish the sentence before I start helping you again. “Let me get your hair.”

“Oh, you don’t have to.”

“Yes I do, come on.” I sit behind you on the bed running the brush through the soft strands. You seems very much on edge, with a far away look in your eye. After the conversation downstairs I can only assume you want to get out of here as fast as possible, “I know what you’re thinking, please don’t do anything rash. RM is just concerned for your safety, he has JK surveying your home in Busan right now to see if it has been compromised. If it’s all clear you can go without a worry.”

“They are?” You sound surprised and hopeful.

There was no need to dash your dreams right now. It was far more likely than not that our rivals were making their way to your home now to learn more about you.

“Please let us take care of this. It is what we are trained to do.”

“I can’t be watched over forever, I need my freedom.”

“Then let me train you, I’m one of the best fighters in the group. We will have to wait a while until your shoulder heals, but let me suggest it to RM.”

“You’ll train me in Busan?” You ask skeptically. I can tell that you are trying to gauge if my offer is just a ruse to convince you to stay.

Seeing the trap you’ve planted I step over it. “Wherever you end up I will train you.”

“Clever Hope.”

“Just staying honest.”

There’s a knock at the door followed by Suga’s voice, “Hey Spitfire, you ready?”

A/N : And that's it for this chapter... Who here guessed that the MC and Jin were childhood friends?! What did you think of Jimin's backstory? Next week you will get to read about Suga's past!

#bts under fire series #bts fanfic #bts gang au #bts x reader #bts fanfction #bts reader insert #kim namjoon x reader #namjoon x reader #rm x reader #kim seokjin x reader #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #jhope x reader #hobi x reader #jimin x reader #park jimin x reader #slight ot7 x reader

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niksixx · 4 years

Text

Homecoming

Requested: By a lovely Anon!

Pairing: Nikki Sixx x Female Reader

Description: “I’m sending an ask now for tomorrow (12th) bc I’m in a different time zone and don’t wanna miss the first day submitting requests because I love your writing so much! Can you do a Nikki x Reader, of Nikki having been on tour, and when he gets back he’s missed the reader so much that all he wants to do is please her, and he asks her to ride his thigh and then his face? Ahhh! With lots of dirty talk and praise. Thankyouuuuu”

Warning: Smut

A/N: If you enjoyed this, leave a comment!

*GIF is not mine, credits to the owner*

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Ten more minutes, just ten more minutes Nikki thought to himself, eagerly drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. It had been a long seven months of touring different cities in Europe, and though Nikki was living the dream with his three best friends, there was a woman waiting for him at home who he could not wait to see.

The calls, the texts, the sexts, nothing compared to seeing your face and holding you against his chest. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on your body, his mouth on your sweet lips. Just thinking about all the sex he’d be having to make up for lost time caused him to groan loudly inside his car as the fabric of his jeans constricted against his tight bulge.

As your house came into view, goosebumps littered Nikki’s arms. Intense excitement coursed through his body. Nikki wanted his homecoming to be a surprise, so he had given you a fake return home date when you’d called him the week prior.

With suitcases beside him and other bags slung over his shoulders, Nikki quietly fished for his key, gently turning it in the knob before pushing the door open. The house was unusually quiet, and for a moment Nikki thought you may have gotten stuck at work, but when he heard the shower running as he approached your bedroom, his face broke out in a smirk.

He perched himself on the bed just as the water shut off, clasping his hands together between his legs. Any second now…

Nikki’s heart raced as you stepped in the room, body covered by a towel as water droplets slid down your body. Looking up from the floor, you immediately let out a scream, running forward and tackling Nikki to the bed.

“Oh, my god! Baby, what? You’re here!” The words came rushing out of your mouth, smushing together in one erratic sentence. Never in a million years did you expect Nikki to surprise you, but boy were you glad he did. “How is this possible?”

“I was always coming home today,” Nikki grinned, pressing a kiss to your cheek. Sitting up off the bed, Nikki adjusted you against his lap. “How are you, baby girl?”

“A lot better now,” you admitted, the tears in the corners of your eyes betraying you. It had been so long since you last hugged your boyfriend, felt his skin, touched his hair, kissed his lips. The last few months had been so lonely with just you at home, trying to come up with new ways to distract yourself. You cooked, painted, learned how to sew, but none of those activities made the time pass. “I’ve been so lonely without you, Sixx. I know touring is your job, and no one supports you more than I do, you know that baby, but it’s been hard for me.”

Pulling you against his chest, Nikki buried his face in the crook of your neck, the fresh scent of soap filling his nostrils. “I’m here now, love. I promise. And I’m not going anywhere for a long time, so you’ll have me all to yourself.”

You hummed against Nikki’s head, the soft sound sending a rush of blood straight to his cock. God, he couldn’t wait to completely ravish you for hours. Seven months without sex? How the fuck had he managed that?

“I haven’t even been able to…you know…please myself properly,” you whispered, cheeks burning as Nikki’s jaw clenched. To your surprise, the towel wrapped around you had been peeled off by Nikki’s hands, and now you were perched against his jean-clad thigh, completely exposed. Your bare clit brushed against the rough fabric, eliciting a soft moan from your lips.

“Don’t you worry,” Nikki said, lips brushing against yours as his hands squeezed your hips. “I’m gonna take good care of you.” His hands guided your hips in a slow back and forth motion, a harsh breath escaping your mouth. You held on to Nikki’s shoulders as your hips followed his motions, the feeling of the crisp material meshing perfectly with your delicate clit.

“That’s right, baby, keep that pretty pussy right here for me,” Nikki was an expert at dirty talk, always had been. He never held back either, always whispering in your ear with his low, gravelly voice. “How’s that feel, baby?”

A hushed moan, followed by a drawn out “fuck” was the only answer you could manage. It pleased Nikki to see you get off on just his thigh. It was something you’d never tried in the bedroom, but now it was the only thing Nikki wanted to do. He was fully clothed himself, but seeing his woman, his sweet, beautiful lady, naked and writhing as her pussy rubbed against his thigh was the best sight to come home to.

“Nikki, fuck, faster,” Pleading wasn’t something you found yourself doing much with Nikki. Occasionally, he’d make you beg for it, whether it be his fingers or his tongue, but for the most part, Nikki didn’t play games when it came to sex. “Please, please, faster.”

Nikki gripped your waist tighter, fingertips digging into your skin. Hard enough to keep you steady, but not enough to cause you pain. Your head fell back in total pleasure, a groan slipping past your mouth as that familiar ball of pressure built up in your lower stomach.

“Oh God, Nikki, I’m gonna come,” Pushing forward, desperate for a release, you rubbed your clit harder against his jeans, collapsing into Nikki’s arms as your orgasm rocked through your body. You rode out the high, juices sliding down your thigh and staining Nikki’s pants. You glanced up from the wet spot on Nikki’s pants, the lust in his eyes making you hot all over again. “Holy fuck, I needed that,” you said, flashing a satisfied smile. As you went to stand and clean off your legs, Nikki pulled you toward him.

“I’m not finished with you yet,” Desire dripped from Nikki’s voice as he pulled off his shirt, licking his lips as he lie on his back. “Come sit on your throne, princess.”

His voice alone sent jolts of electricity through your body. With shaky legs, you crawled up Nikki’s body, positioning your pussy at his mouth. A squeal fell from your lips as he pulled you down to his mouth, his warm tongue darting up and down your pussy skillfully. As Nikki feasted on your body, your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling gently, which you knew he loved.

“The sweetest pussy I’ve ever had,” The quick flits of his tongue drove you wild, the vibrations from his voice sending you into a frenzy. “So fucking good, baby.”

Aside from today, the last time you had experienced an orgasm was the night before Nikki left for tour. It’d been a night of sensual foreplay and making love until three in the morning. After he left, you found it extremely hard to get off. Vibrators, dildos, and even your own fingers didn’t seem to do the trick. But now that Nikki was back, you were on the brink of your second orgasm.

“You ready to come for me, sweetheart?” Nikki asked, sucking your clit between his lips. Your face scrunched as Nikki flattened his tongue against your pussy one last time. “Come for me, baby.”

And his words had you come undone. Your legs shook violently as your second orgasm crashed over your body, whimpers leaving your lips and Nikki continued to lap at your clit. After what seemed to be a minute-long orgasm, you buckled next to Nikki, sweat coating your body.

“I am so glad you’re home,” you said, finally catching your breath.

Chuckling, Nikki gathered you in his arms, lovingly kissing your head. “Me too, pretty girl, me too. I’ve missed you,” he stated honestly. “And since I’m not going anywhere for a very long time,” Rolling on top of your body, Nikki kissed your lips before reaching a hand between your thighs, fingers gently rubbing your sore clit. “I’m going to please you. All. Night. Long.”

And as his fingers dipped between your slick folds, you knew that Nikki would be determined to give you one more orgasm until he was completely and utterly satisfied. And you? Well, you didn’t mind one bit.

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