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imagine-that-one-thing · 3 years

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Her Majesty || 18

Queen

April 15th

Morning discovered me hours ago when Harry's alarm trumpeted through the room, and he forced himself out of bed. Since four o'clock this morning, I have been in and out of sleep. If I am honest, I don't want to take on the day. I have been dreading this day for years, and quite frankly, have been praying it would never come – but I was ill-prepared for how quickly it snuck up on me. But here I am, on the warm side of my bed, longing for my past self as Princess Anastasia but having to remind myself of my new title as Queen.

"What is the Queen going to do on her first day as Queen? What's the first order?" Harry softly requests, and I raise my brow as I convene up against the pillows and cock my head to the side.

I want to spend my day in bed and wrap my head around things.

"What is the King's first order?" I respond with a hint of sarcasm laced to my tone.

Harry elevates his beverage to his lips and shrugs, "I am on my third coffee, and my duties are to keep the palace safe, the same as any other day," Harry responds, not appearing to be phased by the fact that he has a title.

"You do realise that even by telling everyone that I would be king, I cannot be King, Anna."

"You do realise that I make the rules, right?"

Harry laments, "A King has a higher power over Queen. Therefore, I do not have the right to be over you, Anastasia. Therefore, I cannot be titled, King."

I roll my eyes, "We can have this conversation later. I am going back to sleep."

"No, you are not," Harry returns as I settle into the bed and draw the blankets to shelter around my body. "Anastasia, you have a strict itinerary that you have to stick to, which means your ladies will be up here in ten minutes."

I stare at Harry and groan, "Did I forget to ask to sleep in?" I could have sworn that being Queen didn't come with an obligation to be awake at the crack of dawn.

"Well, I did ask the bagpipes from a piper just below the terrace to be put on hold until seven, darling," Harry notifies me.

"And what time is it now?" I request.

Harry smirks, and I moan as he glances at his watch before flicking his eyes towards me. That damn smirk gives it away.

I wait a few moments, and the bagpipes commence their morning routine. Every morning at around six, I am awakened by the Piper's sounds to the Sovereign if I am not already awake. My father resented it, but he kept it around, not only because it is part of the Royal arrangements but because my mother appeared to love the morning wake up calls. Most of the wakeup sequences were at six, but my father extended it to nine in certain months. Of course, it depended on what was transpiring in the royal world.

The Piper's principal responsibility is to play every weekday at six or nine am for approximately 15 minutes under His Majesty's window when he is in residence at Buckingham Palace. Now that I am Her Majesty, they play for me, under my terrace. I don't want to remove the pipers, essentially because it is a tradition, but I will be damned to be woken up every morning with them under my terrace at six in the morning.

"Thanks for the hour," I sigh, rubbing my eyes. "Can you please request that the time is changed from six? I prefer not to hear them until at least ten, perhaps eleven?" I softly beam, doing my ablest to appreciate the art of the bagpipes.

Harry steps closer and hands me his coffee before leaning down and kissing my cheek, "I don't think they will appreciate playing so late."

"Nine?" I suggest, "I think that is fair."

"I think that is fair," Harry nods his head, and I take a few sips of his warm coffee.

"Could you make this any stronger?" I chuckle, taken back by the intensity of his coffee.

Harry shrugs his shoulder, "At least I didn't add bourbon to it this morning," Harry sarcastically smiles.

I hand Harry his coffee back with another stifled laugh escaping my lips. I know that he adds a little alcohol to his coffee some days towards the ends of his shifts, especially if they have been excessive and problematic. "What do you have today?" I softly ask while we have a few extra minutes alone.

Harry steps away from the bed and tells me what he has planned for his day. My head cocks to the side as he stands in front of me, everything about him causing me to smile and swoon over him.

Harry is incredibly handsome and never fails to find me between shifts to give me a few minutes of his short time. This man with dewy, mist valley-green eyes, lush hair he grooms so carefully that has a rippling quality, is a man that I thank the heavens for every day. The last few months have been horrible and heartbreaking, there are still days where I have no clue how the fuck I am going to survive the journey without my father, but Harry always makes sure to make it known that he is right beside me through everything.

Harry is a man that holds my heart in his golden hands and cherishes it, he has every opportunity to throw it to the wall and walk out, but he doesn't. He has managed to survive the horrible honeymoon phase. Our honeymoon phase hasn't been what it was meant to be; it has been emotional crying, it has been painful, sad, and full of anger all in one.

The man in front of me is dashing with a rascal's smile and worked his magic to give me what was rightfully mine, he didn't pride himself on running the monarch for a short time, and he didn't try to keep the authority that he had. The man that stands in front of me is an exceptional husband; I couldn't have asked for anyone better, and one day, he will be a great father to our children if we ever have children. This man is an influence on society, and I am lucky to have him.

Harry waves his hands in front of me, "Anna? Baby, are you listening?" Harry questions, snapping me from my daze.

I take a breath and smile at him, "Yeah," I lie through my teeth, and Harry shakes his head disapprovingly.

"You're shocking at lying."

I lift my shoulders into a shrug and push the covers off my body. I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and step towards Harry. I kiss him sweetly before pulling away and smiling. "What was that for?"

I offer him nothing but a small smile and dreamy eyes that can't peel themselves away from him.

"Mmm, I need to get back to work," Harry changes the subject as two of my lady in waiting's walk-in. "See you later," Harry kisses me softly, becoming rigid as he clears his throat and notices the ladies looking at the two of us. Harry doesn't feel comfortable with PDA in front of the staff and is still unsure how to act. It's humorous to a certain extent. He hated hiding the relationship, and now he doesn't know what to do now that he doesn't have to hide anything.

I reach for his hand as he steps away. Harry stops and looks over his shoulder before turning back around to face me, "What is it?" he softly asks. My eyes glance between him and his coffee in his hand. Harry rolls his eyes and hands me his coffee, "You're lucky I love you, my darling," Harry grins, "Now, goodbye," he begins to walk away, leaving me with the rest of his coffee and my staff.

I chuckle as the ladies watch him leave, swooning over him in the same manner I do. "You're lucky," one begins as she holds a few dresses across her arms.

"I know," I smile, well aware of how lucky I am. "What do I have the pleasure of wearing today?" I question, looking at the dresses, giving the ladies full reign of what they dress me in as I sit down on the edge of the bed.

♛ ♛ ♛

When I was a little girl, I filled my time prowling the hallways of the various estates we have, all of which had their unique quality. To this day, my favourite place is in Northern Ireland, Hillsborough Castle. I allocated ampere-hours in the gardens, playing hide and seek with the assistants and the bodyguards, countless hours picking wildflowers and chasing butterflies. I would do anything to go back to the days where life was simple, where all I had to think about was which flowers I desired to plant when I wasn't learning about the world and learning to speak different languages.

I remember one spring, Dad brought me to Hillsborough Castle; he and his staff purchased various flowers and shrubs I had picked out one day, we went through a magazine. We later spent that weekend planting the array of plants. Somehow, my father discovered a way to make everything match and look colour coordinated. I wasn't much assistance in the garden, I dug a few holes with my little shovel and helped water the plants, but he and his staff did most of the dirty work. It was when things were manageable, when we could be a family without anyone torturing my father. Perhaps back then, things weren't as simple as I assume, and maybe I was naive, but in my memories, things were simple.

We were happy.

Unfortunately, I can't travel to Hillsborough Castle and attain my peace, and I can't proceed to where I have always been satisfied. Right now, travelling too far is out of the question for safety reasons. Madeline can't fly back home to her family because of safety concerns. If I could, I would love to discover myself in rolling hills and grassland, where it appears neverending. I would love to advance to the countryside, to view the sunset over a meadow and gather nothing but the harmony of nature when the sun submerges into darkness. Harry's mother's home was calm and serene. There were no sounds of cars continually driving around, no people standing outside my place of residence daily, and no staff. It was normal- something I crave but can't possess. I wish I could be out feeding the baby animals and savouring life in the slow lane like I did the few times I have been up there.

I necessitate a scenery change, but I am unsure where the scenery change can occur when I am not authorised to travel. I still think running to Greece and changing our identities is a superb idea, but there is no way in hell I can convince Harry into the concept. Harry has expressed how ludicrous the idea is and logically explained to me the reasons why it is not happening. I think we would be fine with mundane duties and living in Greece. At least we wouldn't have Pippa around to pester the shit out of us. That woman is relentless; she has not given up on her notion of expressing how incompetent I am to be Queen.

What I want is for us to be happy without doubt lingering around us. I don't want the fear to continue to gloom over me. As strict as the palace is and the fact people are constantly watching, I am still concerned. Before my father's passing, I was carefree. I used to wander the halls' without much thought, but now I struggle to step outside my room without the second thought of whether something could happen.

I do not have proof of who killed my father, all I have is my suspicion, and I am convinced that these same people will come after me or, worse, Harry.

The media have attracted attention to Harry and me. The night on the balcony, as expected, drew attention to us, but in my lapse of judgment, I wasn't considering how this could affect him. He is now another target. If the Aces, whoever they may be, are still out for blood, their next bet would be him. In the mind of someone who wants revenge, money or really anything, they will go for the person who has the most impact. If they take out Harry, one less person will protect me before taking me out unless we comply with their requests. With each day that has passed since my father, I have waited for some request from this unknown group of people. I have waited for a phone call or a letter with their demands, but I have not received a single thing.

When I stayed at Harry's mother's, there were letters sent to her house addressed to myself and Harry; what happened after that night, I do not know. Harry said he would take care of it, and nothing has appeared since. After that night, I stopped looking into things and having Harry followed. I knew that he was right- some things are better left unknown. How Harry handles situations is not of my concern. Harry has his job, and I have mine. He does not tell me how to be a Royal, and I do not tell him how to do what he has to do. I know his field of work has gotten very messy over the last few months. He has done things he never imagined he would have to do.

The door to my office opens, distracting me from my daze of thoughts that have been accompanying me most of the day. Harry steps into the palace office and closes the door behind him, intentionally shutting the door on the people accompanying him. "Anna," Harry begins as he shuffles closer to the desk, he gestures between us and the door and shakes his head, "I have a man trying to measure me for clothes, a woman with an iPad wanting to be my assistant, and I have a man holding a fruit platter… Make it stop, please." Harry breathes out softly, "I appreciate their efforts, but I don't need an assistant. I can do my job."

"Fruit Platter? That is better service than me," I snicker.

"Sweetheart, I am highly frustrated with it." But, unfortunately, Harry doesn't recognise my humour or appear amused by the events.

"I will ask them to tone it down. Call them in," I instruct, gesturing towards the door.

"Surprised they can't hear us and just walk on in," Harry murmurs, advancing towards the door and unlocking it, allowing his array of followers to wander into the office.

The staff stand in front of me in a line, almost as if they are aware of what the conversation will hold. "I know you all have good intentions, but His Highness doesn't want to be followed, if he needs something, he will ask, but he doesn't need the extent of these privileges as my father did. Harry will let you know when and if he needs something. He is very low maintenance…" I graciously explain, "Mike, when he has the time, you can talk to him about suites and what he wants. Estelle, Harry doesn't want an assistant; Matthew takes care of everything. If Harry needs any help, he will ask," I direct each issue head-on, doing my best to be respectful, "And Luke, Harry doesn't need you to follow him with food unless asked; he will make his coffee when he wakes up. He takes a coffee at seven, he will ask you if he needs anything else, give him coffee, and you will be his best pal. He appreciates it, but he likes to be left to his own devices." ... "Think of him as a lone wolf, he was under the radar before marrying me, and he likes to stay that way."

Mike clears his throat and nods, "All due respect, your mother put us on his service."

"You can be on his service. Just keep a distance, thank you," I dismiss the humble team, and they all shuffle out gradually before shutting the door behind them.

"Rough first day?" I chuckle, and he leans on my desk and crosses his arms over his chest while he nods his head. "I just want to do my job, Anna."

"Well, honey, your job isn't just security anymore."

"It is," Harry disagrees.

I know the transition is going to be incredibly rough. He has gone from being security to being a husband to being a quiet King to becoming second to the throne and being waited on by the staff. I don't expect him to attend charity events, cut ribbons and be a royal member. But, on the other hand, I don't anticipate him to give up being security and guarding the palace, but I am not sure how it will operate with him being on my service.

"You know you will need security, Harry?"

"Anna, Matthew and I have it sorted out. Can we discuss something else?"

"Every Thursday, we don't have royal duties. Instead, we have family dinner with my mother," I inform Harry, "And I'd like us to commit to one day a week where it's just you and me even if it's just an hour."

Harry nods his head, "Of course, Anna."

"And we need to find our charities and volunteer work."

"Sure, I'll show kids how to run a security detail team."

"Harry," I press, "I'm serious."

"We can call it Harry's boys and girls' scouts, just without pitching a tent. Instead, I'll show them how to hogtie a person and keep people safe."

"I can't tell if you're joking or not."

Harry stares at me with a straight face, "I am not joking."

"Christ," I mutter, "How are we going to survive ruling a monarch."

Harry elevates his shoulders into a shrug, "I am just here for the ride, but I need to go over protocols and security things with you," Harry changes the subject, taking my ink pen from my hand and shifting the paperwork in front of me away from my body.

"I was working on that," I declare as I lean back in my chair and cross my arms over my chest, now mimicking his position.

Harry nods his head and places my pen in his breast pocket, "Right, so we need to have an unwritten understanding. When security says 'we are leaving', it means just that." Harry notifies me, already prompting me to roll my eyes.

"Just because my title changed doesn't mean I forgot the protocol."

Harry hums, "You need to redo your security training."… "You need to do your SAS training; you have a refresher course to do." Harry reminds me of what feels like the hundredth time.

I just have no desire to do the damn course.

"Will you be my teacher?" I smirk.

Harry sighs, "The tunnels are off-limits for the next few days."

"Oh, damn, now how I will be a product of any illegal activity? How will I escape the palace?" I sarcastically respond.

I have no intentions of escaping through the tunnels or causing any dilemmas; for the most part, I am emotionally stable and know that I cannot go off and get drunk because life as a royal isn't enjoyable.

"Princess—"

"Ah, no," I cut Harry off, "Wrong title, and don't even try to refer to me as my title. You know I hate it."

"And I hate when you make my job troublesome, which you are doing," Harry points as he gestures towards me, "Security is heightened. I need you to at least pretend to care."

"Fine," I mutter, "You're such an ass when you're the security detail."

"Anna, just get your training done with Matthew at the very least."

He is getting frustrated with me. I can tell by the way he is clenching his jaw and tapping his shoe against the flooring. He means well, but the training is a pain in my ass.

Why should we stage a kidnapping and show me how to handle the situation when if we wait long enough, it will happen?

Nothing surprises me with this monarchy. I wouldn't be surprised if Pippa tied me up, forced me in the back of her car and drove me across Europe before abandoning me in the middle of nowhere. After my father's incident, nothing is really off the table in terms of events that could take place. No amount of training saved my father.

"I will," I accept, leaning forward and standing to my feet before I encase my arms around his neck, "You need to relax," I inform him, his arms dropping to his side before his hands rest in the small of my back, enabling me to stand between his legs and bring our bodies closer. I give him a small smile. Then, I kiss him softly and leisurely.

"Easier said than done," Harry murmurs against my lips. I cut him off and kiss him more profoundly, not wanting his words but his affection.

He draws away with a sigh, "I have to be on your mother's service in a few minutes."

Mood killer.

Blinking with feigned innocence, I whisper, "Oh, come on," taking a chance and moving to caress the tender skin on his neck with sweet kisses. He cocks his head to the side, enabling me to kiss his fevered skin, my hands pursuing their way to the buttons of his shirt. Finally, my fingers touch the material of his tie, and I tug on it benevolently.

His tie unravels between my fingertips, and he moans softly when I introduce my kisses to his jawline, gingerly making my way to his lips. Aching tension between the two of us builds with a gentle persuasion of my kisses.

Harry breaths heavily, and his hands squeeze at my waist with a sense of frustration laced to them. Then, with a long, liquid kiss that rushes lust through us, his fingers dig into the material of my shirt.

Unchaining wild, delicious feelings brew inside me, eagerly demanding to escape with every moment that passes by. I feel him pull me closer, the tension at the edge of his fingertips kneading into the material.

I press my body against him, his fingers bunching my shirt even further, "Anastasia, we can't," Harry breaks our kiss with a whisper, putting space between us. He softens his eyes and shakes his head, "We are being watched," Harry breathes, "Camera's aren't cut to this room."

"Cut them, please?"

"I can't… How about later?"

I roll my eyes, irritated with him, "No."

Harry chuckles and begins to adjust his tie, clearing his throat, "I don't think you want the rest of the team watching… I get off at nine tonight. Wait up for me?"

"I think one of my executive orders as Queen is that we no longer have to schedule these things." I gesture towards the small space between us. "I'm tired of it."

It has been a hassle to get alone time with him for quite some time, and there's always something happening or someone interrupting.

"Take it up with security."

"You are security." I point out, irritarted to say the least.

"Well," Harry laughs, "I will have to have a code word with Matthew for when to cut the surveillance."

"Yeah, you get on that," I respond, taking my pen out of his pocket and sitting back down on my chair. "Can I ask you something?" I softly ask.

Harry narrows his eyes down on me, "Not sure I like the sound of this, but sure," Harry nods his head.

"This is private," I inform him.

"You can speak; nobody can hear us. They can just see us," Harry flicks his head to his side, subtly gesturing towards the hidden camera in the painting over the fireplace.

I compose myself for a moment before I take a leap of faith, "What happened with Victoria?"

"Uhm, she died?" Harry is confused.

"No, I mean the story."

I want to know the story he managed to spin to the press. I know he tends to release stories when he can’t get the Palace social media team involved.

"She was found. Louis got the coroner report back, and it was a snake bite. Unfortunately, she chose the wrong day to go hiking," Harry responds with a shrug.

"And Henry?"

Harry takes a breath and heavily sighs, "Do you not read the tabloids?" Harry sighs. I can tell that he doesn’t want to have this conversation by the way his jaw clenched and he looked around in an attempt to gain a moment to find an excuse.

"I have not been in the mood to read what the media has to say," I respond.

"Henry... He passed in his sleep peacefully."

"And what happened after the private funeral?" I question, unsure of what happened after the service took place. Against everyone's wishes, I insisted he was given a service, whether he deserved it or not for the events that took place. I didn't want everyone to be heartless. My father wouldn't have wanted such a thing.

"We all went our separate ways, you went to the room, and I went back to work?"

"No, with him. Where is he?"

"Oh," Harry sounds, "That, I cannot tell you."

I cock my head to the side, "You cannot tell me where he was laid to rest?" I am surprised.

Harry shakes his head, "No, I cannot."

"What about the rest of the Aces' like Henry's Dad?"

"Anna, I have a lot of people I am trying to track, just like I have a lot of things I need to do. I can't answer these questions. I need to go though." Harry politely dismisses the conversation.

As much as I want to press further and ask questions for my peace of mind, I know that now isn't the time or the place. "Be careful, okay?"

"Always," Harry nods before leaning down and kissing my cheek, "I love you and stay out of trouble while I am gone."

"No promises," I respond with a smile before he walks out, leaving me alone in the office where most major royal documents are signed.

This office has been used for many years by my father. It has been the places he has signed checks, and he has signed Royal assents— this room has been used for an array of different monumental things, and as I sit here in this room, I can't help but feel a weight on my shoulder intensify. I don't feel at ease as my pen glides across the paper and I sign my name across the lines; I don't feel this task is taken lightly. This office is the starting to place to the world as we know it, this room is where things begin, and as my reign begins, I am not sure my confidence starts here.

Being in the same office my father once sat in, I thought I would feel at ease and feel comfort— I don't. I feel the opposite. My world feels suffocated and anxious. This simple task of signing the lines makes me question my power. What I am doing today is a mandatory and straightforward procedure, it is nothing significant in the sense of signing a new Royal assent or signing the rights of dubbing a fresh Prince or Knight, but it feels as though it is a big deal.

I thought my mother would play a more significant role on my first day. I thought she would be with me to sign these documents and figure out what I am meant to do. But, instead, she seems to be doing her own thing. I don't blame her for not wanting to be a part of things, and the monarch has impacted her more than she would like to admit. To an extent, I think the monarch helped kill her spirits, especially in the last few months with what has been happening. My mother was nice enough to team with Harry to give me what was rightfully mine. Still, I expected to have some help from her— Mother has some insight into things, watched my father run the monarch for years, and knows a few things that I may not have caught onto, but she doesn't want to be a part of it. I have no clue where she is going.

All I know is that Harry is on her service.

♛ ♛ ♛

April 21st

Sitting in my office and staring at the four walls for days' led me to escape into the gardens to get some fresh air. Harry will kill me for coming out here without anyone with me, but I need some space. I am not surviving. I have had multiple meetings with influential people I do not know how to accommodate. I don't know why I am being thrown full force into this. I was hoping for a lighter transition, but that has been far from the case. I cannot keep up with everything. I don't know how my father managed.

The gardens are peaceful and quiet. They have always left me with a sense of calmness. No matter what is happening in my life, walking these gardens gives me a sense of hope. The gardens are blooming later than usual, but the Rhododendrons and Camellias are beginning to bloom.

I take a deep breath in the fresh air and stop wandering as I reach one of the many trees full of pink blossoms. It's breathtaking. The blossom trees leave me in awe every spring. I don't know how the gardeners keep the 39-acre garden at Buckingham Palace looking as unique as it does; everything is immaculate.

Spring-flowering trees are spread throughout the garden, but some areas are more than others. One of my favourite trails is the Queen's Walk. The walk has a vibrant display of trees and camellias. However, I am not sure what it is about the trek that excites me and brings me happiness. I am not sure if it's the outburst of assorted colours or just the quietness and the sound of nature humming.

There are more than two hundred several flowers in the gardens, varying from single flowers to frothy, peony-like efflorescences. There is a touch of everything within the gardens, and everything flows excellently. I bend down and caress my hand delicately to brush against the Blue lilacs that symbolise happiness and tranquillity, something I am longing to feel at the edge of my fingertips. I glance towards the Magenta lilacs and smile to myself, inhaling their scent and deep meaning of love and passion. The firm, sweet, heady scent of the lilacs lingers, and I stand back up, wandering away from the lilacs, leaving them to bloom on their own.

As I walk the small trail, I regard a man who appears out of place. He doesn't seem to belong here in the gardens. Nobody should be out here besides the groundskeepers, the horse trainer or security. The gardens at this time of day are not bustling with staff or anyone. They're withdrawn, which is why I prefer to wander out here. At first, I believe the worst, but my heart rate decreases and my stomach settles as soon as I notice the royal tour guide pamphlet hanging out of his pocket.

"Can I help you?" I challenge from behind, startling the man who seems to be heading towards what we call 'The island within the lake'.

Nobody goes towards the little lake; it is off-limits to most to help maintain its natural environment. I have been out there on a few occasions. It's a beautiful view, something I have always loved, but we keep it off-limits for the wildlife that is out there. We aren't one-hundred per cent on everything in the acres, but we know there is danger. My father told me a story about one of the purple flowers out there. He says it can kill someone in seconds. The poison within the purple flower is vital, so strong that years ago, dipping an arrowhead in the plant would guarantee death to anything it hits. This is how it got the nickname of "wolves bane", as it was used on arrowheads to hunt wolves to ensure they died. As scary as it sounds, it fascinated me. I am not sure how they figured out years ago that dipping an arrow would ensure death. I can only imagine someone came across the wolves bane on accident and used it for their advantage.

The unknown man turns around, and I take in his features, but what catches my eye the most is his button-down shirt. I follow the length of his arms and rest on the edge of his shirt.

"I uh- I have lost my group," the man responds, promptly curtseying as he notices who I am.

The man holds his hand out, prompting me to shake his hand. I stare at the cufflinks on his button-down, intrigued by them. I would expect to see these sorts of cufflinks in vegas or at a place where card games are a fortay, not at a palace and on an ordinary man. One cufflink features a Jack, King, and Queen and the other cufflink features three Aces in a foldable card deck. They're not the ordinary cufflinks, perhaps he is some sort of magician, or he just really likes cards. Who knows?

"Do I pique your interest, Princess?"

I shake my head, letting go of his hand, "I've never seen those kinds of cufflinks."

The man nods his head, his eyes flicking down to his cufflinks, "You never know when you'll need an Ace up your sleeve," the man smiles, seeming mysterious but pleasant in the same manner, "I'll let you be, Princess. Can you direct me back to my crew?"

"You will not be able to get back into the Palace; I will take you," I respond, gesturing along the stone path before I begin to walk towards the palace. “I hope you didn’t touch or pick any flowers,” I comment, noticing the pollen stain at the edge of his white shirt. Of course, I expect children to want to touch and pick the flowers, but not a grown man.

The man shakes his head, and his eyes dart around. A clear indication is lying. I know he picked some of the Lillies; I can see precisely where he snatched them from. I don’t say anything; instead, I change the subject. "So, you got lost in the gardens?"

"Yes, I had stopped to check my phone; I have been expecting a call from a family member; I and when I looked back up, I was alone and standing in the middle of a garden," The man explains, "Quite embarrassing to get lost on a guided tour. I am surprised guards didn't cease me."

“I would be concerned about the gaggle of geese wandering around the fields. They get mean. I'd highly suggest for you not to lose your tour group," I half-smile, unsure of how the tour group left him behind, but it does happen. I remember one occasion where a little kid decided to play hide and seek within the palace. He snuck off from the tour and found himself in the dining hall. It was quite a chaotic mess. I am sure there was some sort of protocol to follow. Harry was the one who found the kid and called off the protocol. He didn't fully tell me about the day, but he briefly explained that it was hectic trying to lock half a palace down to find a lost tourist hiding amongst the furniture.

"I don't intend to. But, again, I am sorry for the inconvenience."

"It is okay," I shake my head, trying to be reassuring despite him trying to hide the fact he took a few Lillies.

Mistakes happen, it is easy to get lost at the palace, hence why there is a tour guide, but I assume I need to find a new guide since this group lost a man. I glide my fingers over the touch system that opens the doors through fingerprint and a unique key.

I push the door open and allow the man inside the palace, "Your tour group is right up there," I flick my head towards the small area at the end of the hallway. I can hear the tour guide talking about one room containing a magnificent array of paintings by Rubens, Van Dyck and Canaletto.

The man clears his throat and politely nods before hurrying down the hallway, where I watch him join the group of tourists who are more fascinated with the paintings than with me. A little girl notices me and waves. I smile and wave back.

I watch the small group for a while, mainly watching the man who seems to settle into the group and fit in. I smile to myself, happy to have helped a lost soul wandering the palace before I turn around. I gasp and put my hand over my chest, "Christ, you can't do that," I sigh, catching my breath as Harry stands in front of me with barely an inch of space between us, "Any closer and you'd have been on top of me." I press my hands to his chest.

"Have I not taught you to be aware of your surroundings?"

"I was," I respond, clearly lying. I know exactly what he is going to allude to. If I were aware of my surroundings, I would have been aware of how close he was to me. I already know he is going to give me hell about it.

Harry gently takes my hand and glances around, making sure nobody can see us before he opens a secret door, and we step into a different room. He closes the door, and I lean on the wall, taking a few deep breaths to bring my heart rate back down. "You alright?" Harry kisses my forehead before giving me a soft smile.

"No, you about gave me a heart attack," I respond, slapping his arm lightly, "One of these days, I will do the same to you."

"You give me heart attacks daily," Harry murmurs, his hands dropping to my side and resting on my waist. "In all seriousness, you need to be more aware, Anna. I could have been a murderer."

"That is what I have you for, to fight off murderers." I smile up at him.

Harry rolls his eyes, "You don't make my job easy, that is for sure," Harry chuckles.

"Mhm," I hum, "So why were you hovering so close? What do I owe this visit?" I request. Harry benevolently pulls me closer, and I settle into his warm embrace, feeling at ease for the first time in a few days.

"When I saw that you kicked Oliver off your service, I figured you were at your witts ends."

I rest my cheek on his chest and let out a breath, his arms tightening around me and holding me in the silence.

For the first time in a while, silence feels like a treasured moment. Nobody is requesting me, nobody telling me what to do or how to do it, nobody calling my name or needing me to be Queen. For the first time in a while, I can breathe and enjoy the silence without feeling the excessive need to cry or have a panic attack.

Oliver seems to always cop the shity end of the stick with me. He has from the moment he was on my service the first time. Earlier, my emotions got the better of me. I couldn't take it anymore and needed time alone. Nobody understood that I needed to compose myself. Everyone was suffocating me. When I managed to escape the chaos of everyone, Oliver was on my tail, following me everywhere. I couldn't take it. I needed utter silence and alone time. This time, I didn't threaten to fire him. I simply told him he wasn't on my service and to leave. Surprisingly, he listened to me.

"You can't kick him off your service."

"I needed space," I respond, lifting my head from his chest and stretching away from his embrace. "You don't get it," I mutter, turning my back towards him. I swallow hard and look up at the ceiling, doing my best not to allow the tears to fall from my eyes that are welling up.

Harry stays silent for a minute before he clears his throat, "Anastasia, sweetheart, do you want to talk about it?"

I don't respond. I stare at the wall and wipe my tears away, not wanting him to see me cry over everything. I am stronger than this. I don't cry when I can't do things.

The flooring creeks and Harry's shoes sound against the floors before his hands are on my waist again, "Anna," Harry whispers, tenderly tugging my waist and turning me to face him. Before he can do or say anything, I bury myself into his chest, still not wanting him to see me cry. He has seen me cry so many times in the last few months, and I am tired of it. I am tired of crying and feeling everything at once to feeling nothing. There is no in-between when it comes to how I feel. I am either all there, or I am not.

Harry holds me close, his arm tightly around me as his hand rubs circles on my back, "Okay," he whispers, trying to comfort me soothingly. "The other night, I was so tired, frustrated and stressed that I fired one of the security guys, and I got enraged at Matthew to feel better. We argued for a good thirty minutes before we stopped, and he just laughed."

"What?" I sniffle, surprised to be hearing of such a thing. It is rare to see Harry lose his shit on people, perhaps I am not around when it happens, but I don’t hear or see this side of him.

"Yeah, I lost my shit the other night. It happens, Anna. It happens to all of us, and it's okay to lose your shit and let it out. It is okay to want time alone and to cry. You don't need to hide it, especially from me."

"I'm tired of crying, Harry."

"It's part of the grieving process… But everyone has their moments, some more than others. Anastasia," Harry trails off, his hand moving to force me to look at him. Instead of fighting him like initially planned, I look up at him, "Life isn't easy, especially yours, but it will be okay."

"I'm the only one not okay."

Harry shakes his head, "No, you're not. Your mother cries too."

"Only seen her cry twice, the hospital and the funeral."

Harry takes a breath, his eyes softening as he opens his mouth to speak, but he stops himself. Harry bites his lip, pondering his thoughts and what to say. I cock my head to the side, unsure of how to read him or what his thoughts are. "Anna, sometimes things aren't always as they appear."

"What do you mean?"

"I have to get back to work," Harry dismisses the conversation, his hand raising to wipe away my tears, "I have to put a plan in place for your first event as Queen; I will be done in a few hours, do you want to go out for dinner?"

"Like leaving the palace?"

Harry nods his head, "Yes, you haven't left since coronation day, and I think you need to have some sort of normalcy."

I nod my head and smile at him, "I would like that a lot," I agree.

Honestly, since my father's passing, I haven't left the palace much or at all unless for royal events. I haven't felt the desire to go out and be in public, nor have I been allowed. Security is always high, and I am always on a high-risk alert. I have become accustomed to the high-risk level threat and haven't even asked to go out. I figured at some point. Someone would be released into the world where I could be normal for a few minutes.

"Be ready to leave at six; Matthew will take you to my car." Harry leans down and kisses my lips lightly, "And keep an eye on your surroundings," Harry winks, wiping my cheek with the pad of his thumb one more time. "Oliver is back on your service, but he will keep his distance, okay?"

I agree, "Okay," I respond before he walks back out through the secret door where he steps back into the initial hallway, and I sojourn in the room he brought me into. I walk across the red carpet and take a seat in the leather chair. I slip off my heels and lift my legs onto the leather chair, tucking them under me before I place my arms on the armrest.

Oliver walks in offers me a small smile, "Permission to enter?"

“Smartass," I mutter with a slight chuckle, "I'm sorry, Oliver."

"It's okay, Her highness."

"Is it okay if you make sure nobody comes in here?" I question, "I would like some time alone," I softly instruct, resting my head on my arms.

"As you wish," Oliver agrees, exercising towards the door and stepping out, leaving me alone in a room where very few will find me.

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfiction #imagine harry styles #harry styles prompts #harry styles blurbs #harry styles writing #fanfiction #harry styles fanfictions #Imagine harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles one shots #harry styles preferences #1d imagine

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jadelynlace · 3 years

Text

a dead woman tells no tales / vikings fiction

series based on Lady Lazarus, a poem by Sylvia Plath.

chapter four / catch up here

synopsis: He left you for dead and now you’re back.

author’s note: the one small detail the reader has, is that she is a red head.

specific chapter content warning(s): mentions of blood, torture (aftermath), suicide and sexual content below the cut (female receiving oral, during her cycle). also note that I included a favorite quote of mine per their characterization and dynamic.

pairing: Ivar x Reader

✄

Noticing the blue sky, it stung in your mind the same shade Ivar’s eyes had been the last night you saw him. Preoccupation with the thoughts of torture—wine red blood slipping between your fingers as shone to Ivar while his absurd laughter overtakes the vicinity—you keep a fair distance from him as he spun the tales back from his own memory. You had no prior knowledge of the day you two were in the field, overcome with sudden whispers in your ears that the visions you saw so clearly dancing on your closed eyelids were no longer there. That they were not real. Stumbled together in a stew of colliding past details, but you two always went to that forest, you two always snuck away, you two always took swords and daggers to each other for practice, you always kissed his cheek when you were to head back and he would always grab you face to plant your lips on his instead. Your mind knew up to that, then your head spoke of the rocks, how your spine felt along their backing, leaves at your feet with Ivar looking over you—but he was standing as he gazed—he could not stand long enough, even then, to examine your injuries to gather if he should carry you back or bring back the aid.

What Ivar told you was a far fetched tale of haggard details, how he told you then of his plans to follow where he was destined, how he would not let you raid, battle alongside him. How you were to wait, or pass time with others who were better than the crippled boy you so loved. How you stopped meeting him in the forest to practice and how when he went days without word from you, sight of you, he went to that spot in the forest once more. Your legs swinging from the ledge as he could see the sunshine in your hair lighting it like a fire, a brief turn back to him with the softest smile he remembers, and then you fell forwards. Dropping his swords and crawling across the ground to see you on the rocks below, eyes dead yet still stuck on him. By the time he made haste back, few in his wake there was a shadow of crimson on the slate but you were gone. Ivar went on with his troops so plainly disturbed by what he watched he had spent every night since locked in a dream of its repetition.

For days now, you wanted no sight of him, no word, no touch. You begged the Gods for silence, to answer you and gift upon you the details you did not remember. You wanted the great wings of the overhead birds to carry you back in time to re-watch the story, to see where Ivar had pushed you, but the longer you harped on such instances, the clearer his story unraveled in your mind.

The stars were powerful above you as your feet carried you to the overgrown area you had spent too long trying to stray from. How the sky gathered out before you as you looked up through cracklings of branches while simply laying among the brush. How the darkness spoke to you of your sadness, your directory of losing Ivar to consume you into a guilt that you were not good enough for him. Enough to fight with him. For him and his crippled legs, that you were not enough. The moon was vacant from the sky, the slithers of a blanket of blackness coated the woods and you alike as you could suddenly hear the whimpers of a woman. Sitting up slowly, your dagger in your grip your mind told you that you were seeing the young girl you remembered to be, stuck on the cold stone crying to the immortals above to set Ivar’s mind in the right path, to make you stronger, or to just keep him safe on the voyage. You hear bitter sarcasm spoken back, an evil spirit answering your voice in deep pity, and then as you try to look away from your own body sitting perched, everything lightens. Your head is on a swivel as the unclear figure looms in the distance and you know that crooked stance to belong to Ivar. You watch how he approaches you. You watch yourself smile back so gently. You watch him with his eyes on you. You watch yourself fall forwards. You watch Ivar drop, hastily maneuvering himself to the ledge and you watch him scream. Your body shoots up in the forest as if it was pulled back like an arrow, your chest heaving as the night terror passes back through your vision and you know now Ivar was telling the truth.

You had met cunning women before, serpents of lies who leech, return to the grounds like the nine lives of a feline, but Freydis holds a spot in your mind that fits not of that. There is a vileness about her, the way her blonde hair curls across her breasts, how her hips have widened from bringing forth a child Ivar was so hopeful to teach as his own. As she sees you in Ivar quarters, a brief wave of confusion passes down the bridge of her nose before she raises it up towards the structure’s ceiling.

“Has he wed you?” She asks but you scoff in reply. “Has he promised you the ends of our world? His devotion? Has he promised to change from the monster that he is?” Your head tips slightly in interest, longing to see how far this woman may crawl to spite the name of the man she hurt. “Has he promised to stop the terrible things he does?” But her mouth closes too soon for your liking.

“I am not here to wed Ivar the Boneless,” You answer.

“Then why are you here before me?” Freydis asks as you finally smile.

“To watch you bleed,”

You peeled Freydis’ skin like a cloth. The pits where her eyes once lived housed the curve of your dagger, you carved holes where out leapt her organs and pooled red paste along the floor. The height of her lungs through her chest, how the hair on her head could make wigs to barter, the bones could be gathered for handles on your wardrobe. While Freydis had been untangled like a scrunched ball of yarn, you remain of skin and bones, unchanged. It was art, how Freydis’ perished. It was art how you held the red soaked blade to Ivar’s tongue as he lapped the blood away from the forged metal. It was art how the soak of the wet fabrics took the day of torture from your hands as Ivar washed you in the river.

“You have gifted me love, despite the horror,” Ivar says out of nowhere during the silence of the water across your bodies. “I thought I would not want your love unless you really knew how repulsive I am. But you still love me even as you know of it,”

“I jumped, Ivar,” You then whisper. “I remember now,”

“I know,”

“I jumped because I was confused; how you spoke of my skills but would not let me raid alongside you. How you wanted me to find happiness with another man who was not you; but if it was not you, then who else was going to love me?” You’re unsure of the wetness across your face to be from the droplets of wet hair, or the tears from your lashes, Ivar’s arms heavily around you.

“Tell me every terrible thing you have done since that jump, Y/N. And I let me love you still,”

Sunlight dries both of you, heated skin tickled across the grass as you two are there to lay far longer than deemed appropriate. Wisps of flowers along your thighs as the wind become the only noise in your ears before the beat from within Ivar’s chest comes next. You covet the time alone with Ivar, how you two would spend the afternoons in search of creatures in the clouds, how he has changed to become a man of tough steel. Your monthly blood came not soon after Freydis was drained of hers, still streaking your inner thighs despite how long you spend changing your linens. Another wave of pressure nudges just top of your womanhood and you hiss slightly, maneuvering off of the fur to stand level and hope it will drain more. Your nudity along the bed catches Ivar first when he enters, across a plain of fabric still cleaning the crimson from your skin.

“I assumed I got it all in the water,” Ivar states when he is on the furs.

“It is my blood, Ivar,” You whisper back, his head turning to catch your gaze. “My monthly blood, I am not hurt,” You assure him. He pulls a fur to cover your shoulders, taking his time to unlatch the beginning parts of the casts, watchful to see if your eyes linger on how he works. “I will take them off if you would like,” You say softly but he snaps his disapproval of your quick idea. You compensate the moment of silence by tending back to yourself, ready to toss the rag for another one and pray the bleeding does not last longer than it should. There’s a new cloth next to your knee before you’re able to rise for another one. As you lay back, Ivar still sits, swinging the tied limbs over the bed as you cast eyes up to the ceiling. The first stroke of the wet cloth on your skin at the end of Ivar��s hand jolts you, curling your knees together and away from him.

“I can not work if you do not stay open,” Ivar says to you, a raise of his brow in challenge.

“You do not clean me,” You say back, climbing forwards to grab the cloth but Ivar holds it too high for your reach at your angle. “Ivar do not be childish,”

“I will clean you,” He states. “How is cleaning you now different than in the river?”

“Because that was blood of another—blood from a battle, this blood is mine, and mine only. I will clean it,” You say back but he still keeps his arm stuck though the air.

“I will clean my queen,” Ivar then says. “Let me,”

“I am not your queen,” You huff back, you arms dropping to bring you back to your position of laying. It would be tale of lies if his words did not catch you with your guard down. You did not plan, not now, to wed Ivar. But the first few breaths after his statement makes those thoughts fade like the sunset. “As you wish,” You finally say, rolling your eyes to take in the vicinity and turning your head away from him. He provides no movements, transfixed on the slight color change that takes over the lips of your cunt with the leeched moon cycle. How it had caressed your legs’ inner flesh, over the scar he had asked of and how it sticks against you. He remembers how Freydis’ blood tasted on your blade, and Ivar wonders how much sweeter yours must be flavored. The next brush against your skin is warm, and you remember the cloth to have gone frigid. Your head cranes quickly to see Ivar between your legs, looking back to you as his tongue drags closer to your middle. His chest heaves as his arms curl around your bent legs, rolling himself to lay between them as his tongue moves the same. A quick rush of air enters your mouth before his lips are against your cunt, slowly tasting the crimson that has stained you. His moan comes low from in his chest, eyes since closed as his hands pull at you further to spread, tingling a peeking pleasure against you as he laps. You don’t notice right away how your nails dig against the furs, how they move to dance over your own chest or how the old pulse in your abdomen has been overruled by bliss. His tongue is warm still as his mouth studies you, drinking you, and as you moan back Ivar replies with his own. His name is hot against your mouth when your spine arches, but he shows no hints of stopping, trying to grip roughly against your thighs as they shake, twist and turn with your hips as a creep of your release moves closer. He does not pull back until you have screamed his name as a chant as you come, raking your nails against your breasts in attempts to quiet yourself but it pitiful how unsuccessful you are. He only looks up at you as your breathing slows, his mouth stained with your blood and release as he cleans it with the back of his own hand. His eyes now almost as dark as the night sky as he crawls back over you and he is all you feel.

Tagged:

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full masterlist can be found here.

#Vikings #vikings fiction #vikings au #ivar the boneless #ivar lothbrok fanfiction #ivar lothbrok #ivar ragnarsson #ivar ragnarsson fanfiction #ivar ragnarsson smut #ivar ragnarsson x reader #ivar au #ivar x reader #ivar x y/n #ivar x you #— i am i am i am. ( my writings & creations )

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neutron-stars-collision · 4 years

Text

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 3 - Too Close for Comfort

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Summary: Your training at Tenet is going perfectly well until it’s thrown off balance with the arrival of Neil, who brings chaos and surprising news...

Warnings: Swearing.

Author’s Notes: So once again this very long, for which I’m sorry. Please let me know what you think! Thanks for the inspiration to my friends, as always! Enjoy!

The first few weeks of your training went by in a mad blur. After day two you realised that to avoid spending ages in the car you had to move into the Tenet building. There you had a cosy room with a bed, desk, a bathroom and relative peace. That is if the more extraverted agents were not partying in the mess hall or the common room. You usually spent the evenings alone, not having the energy or motivation to socialise. Sometimes you also felt as though others perceived you differently for reasons unknown.

Maybe because you have been recruited by one of Tenet’s top agents personally?

Your days have been spent either learning about physics and the theoretical side of the inversion or in the sparring hall, trying to dodge inverted punches and kicks. While all the talk of entropy and nuclear fission usually made your head hurt, it was the hand in hand combat that was the bane of your training. Having absolutely no prior experience in various fighting styles, you often got beat up by the fellow recruits. You certainly preferred guns to fists.

Neil has been gone for weeks as well. You knew that most likely the details of the mission were entirely classified so you never asked. But you sometimes did wonder if he would ever show up again. You had to admit that you did hope so. It would be a shame to never see Anna beam like that again.

This day started like any other in that regard. You woke up and got ready for the first class – geography of Tenet, so lessons covered all the different branches with the turnstiles and how to get from one to another when inverted. After that it was the classic combat. You took your position and acknowledged the partner for the hour – a boring guy named Jack who would sometimes hit on you. And today was not going to be different…

“Hello love” he grinned way too widely

“Hi” you answered back dispassionately, praying for the class to start

“You’re looking good today” Jack smirked, trying to look flirtatious and you rolled your eyes.

Pairs all around you were beginning their training and you wanted to cut the small talk short as soon as possible.

“Please, can we get on with this? I really don’t have time” Jack pouted but complied.

Soon you have begun the session. At first, you managed to block his punches and kicks really well, even hit him a few times when he seemed too busy staring at you to react. But then as the pace picked up, you lost the rhythm. Soon you were breathing hard and your body was aching. While Jack wasn’t pulling any punches, he quickly got worried, seeing you pant and wince. He took a step back and asked:

“Everything alright with you?”

“Yeah, just need a breather” you smiled apologetically.

Suddenly, just as you looked up at the front of the hall where the teachers were stood, a dirty blonde head caught your eye.

It can’t be… you scrunched your neck to see better above the students and your eyes met the unmistakable blue gaze. Neil was staring right at you through the crowd.

Shit. Before you could let your thoughts run away too far, Jack began the training again. Without a warning, he aimed a punch towards your shoulder and you barely blocked it. You were desperately trying to focus on the sparring, but the curious mind kept returning to Neil. You ignored it for a while, but then you looked up again. The blue eyes were on you for all that time. That was also the moment when Jack aimed a punch at your jaw, certain you will be there to block it. You were not.

Next thing you knew you were lying on the floorboards, with a throbbing pain in your jaw and Jack staring at you in shock.

“I…I’m sorry! I thought you’d be ready…” he stuttered and held out a hand to help you get up.

Fuck!, you swore and grudgingly accepted the help. But as soon as you were back standing, you had to run. You couldn’t risk meeting Neil right now. And you were pretty damn sure he saw the whole thing happen. Looking at Jack, you breathed out:

“Sorry, I’ve got to go” and quickly pushed through the crowd to the side exit, praying that you will not be followed.

You got lucky and made a hasty escape to your room where you could finally let your emotions loose. Which in this case meant punching the desk and letting out a stream of favourite swear words. Once that was done you sat down on the bed and covered your face with your hands. You hated embarrassing yourself like that in front of people. Let alone people like Neil.

Finally, after wallowing in self-pity for ten minutes, you got up to shower and change. But you only made it as far as touching the bathroom door handle when you heard a knock. Somehow you knew who it was and hastily smoothed down your hair before opening the door. Neil stood there, with that sickening grin and tousled hair.

“How did you know which room is mine?” you asked while eyeing him up through the crack in the door.

“Hello to you too” he smirked “Anna told me where to find you”

“Of course” you muttered and opened the door wider to let him in.

“What was that?” he watched you with that sly smile, as though excited about the prospect of annoying you.

“Nothing” you sat on the bed and watched as he took the time to look around your small room.

You noticed that he had ditched the suit jacket and had his sleeves rolled up. The exposed forearms were covered in a few fading bruises and cuts. You stared at them a bit too long and quickly looked down at your lap, desperately trying to find something to say. Normally you liked silence, but in this case it made your thoughts wonder way too much.

“So you’re back then?” you asked, cringing at how stupid that sounded.

Neil sat down on the desk chair opposite you and nodded.

“Yeah, for now the world ending has been averted” he joked lightly, and you smiled, suddenly aware that you have missed him.

He searched your face for a short while before asking:

“I take it you don’t like combat sessions?”

“What gave you such an impression?”

“Well that was an impressive knock-out” he winked, and you groaned, causing him to laugh.

“Was hoping you’ve somehow missed it” you admitted while looking away at the wall.

His intense stare was starting to make you feel self-conscious. After all those weeks of not seeing him you have forgotten what it was like. Sometimes you even thought that maybe Neil was just a figment of your imagination. But he was most certainly real. And right now was still looking at you, searching for something. He found it when he suddenly got up and kneeled right in front of you. You stared wide-eyed as he reached out and touched a sore spot on your jaw, making you flinch.

“Sorry” he apologised “Is this where you got hit today?” gently he traced the bruise that was beginning to form.

“Think so” your voice came out huskier than you expected.

“There’s a small cut” only now you felt the sting “You should get that cleaned up” he noticed and met your gaze steadily.

You realised with a surprise that he was looking at you with worry. He was close. Way too close. You felt the rush of adrenaline and jumped up, nearly knocking him on the head in the process.

“I’m fine” you mumbled “I’ll check it now” you moved towards the bathroom.

But once again it was not meant to be. Neil placed his hands on your arms and pulled you down to sit on the bed.

“We’ve done this before” he glared at you “And I’m not taking ‘fine’ for an answer this time” you could just stare “Now, where do you have the first aid kit?”

“Shelf behind the mirror” you watched as he went to the bathroom and covered your face with your hands.

You always hated being the centre of attention. Being cared after like this. Because it meant that you were not strong enough in the first place. It was easier to just be entirely self-dependent, to never ask for help. And now Neil has seen your weakness twice. It was too much. Just as you have begun to consider bolting away, he emerged, armed with gauze and glass filled with water. He set them down on the bedside table and turned towards you. He must have noticed your struggle because he frowned and took a long look at you before asking:

“Is everything alright?”

You forced yourself to meet his gaze and nodded.

“Because you don’t look alright right now”

“Thanks, you know how to compliment a girl” you joked dryly, trying to stop the line of uncomfortable questioning.

It worked as Neil burst out laughing and looked at you incredulously. The downside was that you could no longer run away. So you accepted his beckoning to come closer and lifted your head to give him better access to the cut. He soaked the gauze in water and carefully cleaned the wound, all the while perfectly focused on the task. Although you could not see him you imagined the look of concentration on his face. Once the cut has been disinfected, he covered it with a small band-aid and gave you a quick once-over. You lowered your head and watched him out of the corner of your eye. After he was done with the inspection, his hand was still gently touching your jaw, with thumb caressing your neck just below the ear. You stared at him with lips parted in shock, wondering if he was aware of the movement. You shifted slightly and that broke him out of the reverie. His eyes met yours, and he smiled softly, not stopping the delicate caress. Now that you knew he was aware of his actions you felt your face heat up. To try and break the tense silence, you decided to speak up:

“Thank you for this…” your voice was incredibly hoarse.

“Of course” he smiled wider “Couldn’t have you walking around bleeding”

His hand had stopped the movement but was still placed on your neck. You could not process how close he was. Your brain kept reminding you how you did not really know him. How it can go wrong. The urge to run away was back, possibly at the worst moment. You quickly turned your head away. Neil looked at you with surprise but before either of you could say anything, a knock echoed in the room. You turned to Neil:

“You expecting anyone?” he asked.

“Certainly not” you frowned and went to open the door cautiously.

On the other side there was a tall man of a soldierly posture with a buzz cut and a pleasant looking face. You looked at him quizzically, but he was staring right past you:

“Anna told me I’d find you here” he addressed Neil, who came up to stand next to you.

The two men then had a rather peculiar silent exchange which started with the soldier smirking while looking at you, and Neil responding with a small shake of the head and a grin. You had enough of that.

“Sorry, but who are you?” you asked, while staring at them both.

“Apologies, ma’am” the newcomer grinned at you “I’m Ives” he extended a hand and you shook it.

“Ives is leader of our squad unit” Neil explained, and you nodded.

“I’m…” you opened your mouth to introduce yourself but got cut off by Ives.

“Oh I know who you are” you stared at him confusedly “Neil told me about you” that knowing grin again.

You noticed with a surprise that Neil looked somewhat flustered. But he composed himself quick enough for you to dismiss that idea. He cleared his throat and asked:

“Anyways, what brings you here Ives?”

“TP wanted me to discuss something with you” your ears perked up at the mention of the Protagonist, the mysterious founder of Tenet “And there will be a small gathering later in the common room with all the squad so thought you might want to join” Ives smiled at you “Both of you”.

Neil looked at you expectantly and you nodded:

“Sure, I’ve got nothing better to do”

“You won’t regret it” Ives grinned “Mate can we talk in private?” he turned to Neil.

“Yeah, I’ll meet you in the briefing room in ten” they shared one last cryptic look and Neil closed the door.

You stared at him, still unable to forget the way he looked at you mere minutes ago. And the moment you have shared. But now the spell has been broken, and you did not know what to say. Luckily Neil seemed to be doing fine as he threw you the signature soft smile:

“Sorry about that. Ives is a pretty straightforward guy” he explained, and you laughed, feeling the tension dissolve.

“I can see that” you held his gaze a little longer before adding “You should go discuss the classified stuff with him. Might be something important”

Neil looked hesitant. Finally, he must have made up his mind because he reached out to squeeze your hand. A familiar gesture by now.

“Shall I pick you up later for the party?” he asked.

“Sure” you smiled “Though calling it a party makes me regret the decision to participate” you admired the grin he sent you.

“No need for that, you’ll do great” he winked and without further word left your room.

Now finally you could panic in peace.

***

After stressing for a solid hour about what to wear, you decided to just put on the comfiest t-shirt and jeans. Most agents and recruits rarely dressed up anyway. Apart from Neil, naturally, but you had a feeling he was an exception in most things. Once you got ready, you sat at the desk, trying to finish the assignments for the classes. That was a very bad idea since your brain was mostly busy panicking about the party and analysing what happened before Ives came. When that desired (and feared) knock sounded in the room, you rushed to open it. You were almost happy Neil has not changed into an expensive suit.

“Ready?” he smiled, and you automatically beamed back.

Have I become like Anna already?, you cringed at your reaction. But there was no time to marinate in shame as Neil practically pulled you out of the room without waiting for confirmation. You stared at him, surprised as the door to your room slammed shut.

“Are we that late?”

He just grinned and started walking down the corridor. You shook your head amused before jogging to catch up. When you both entered the common room you first noticed that they have reorganised the space by moving the couches around. Now they formed a large circle in the middle of which there was a table set with beer and wine bottles. There was also music playing from the speakers. And there were at least ten people in the room. At that observation you swallowed hard. You were never good with meeting new people and the idea itself made you anxious. But looking at Neil marching in confidently and shaking hands with everyone you realised that you might have to overcome the fear. The moment you stepped through the threshold all eyes were on you.

Bloody hell, you pasted a small smile on your lips and looked at all the faces. But before you were forced to introduce yourself, Ives did it for you:

“This is our new recruit, Y/N” everyone smiled at you “She’s friends with Neil, so we’ll probably see more of her” he added, and you felt your cheeks heat up.

You looked at Neil and once again would swear he looked slightly uncomfortable. But before you could think about it more you got swept into the circle by Ives and tried to remember names of everyone introduced to you. After the initial small talk, you sat down with a glass of wine, hoping to be able to just listen to others talk and fade into the background. But it wasn’t meant to be…

“So how do you like the training?” a woman asked, that you believed was called Wheeler.

She was looking at you with a pleasant smile which gave you the needed courage.

“It’s not too bad. The whole physics side of it makes my head hurt sometimes but then it’s all so fascinating” you saw a few understanding smiles and nods.

“Well I can help you with the physics if you ever need it” Neil spoke up suddenly and you looked at him across the table.

He has been weirdly quiet since you came in but was evidently listening to the conversation. He was looking at you with a small smile which you mirrored as a way of thanks. You were very aware of the company.

“But yeah I don’t mind the training” you tried to finish the thought “It’s very different from the stuff I did at university and that’s refreshing” you grinned.

“Heard you don’t like the combat training” Ives smirked, and you glared at him.

So everyone knows now…, you groaned mentally.

“What’s the basis for this assumption?” you didn’t want to give up your dignity without a fight.

With satisfaction, you noted the surprised grin he responded with.

“Got my sources” he shrugged “And that bruise on your jaw is a pretty good clue too”

“What can I say, you got me there” you put up your hands in surrender and he laughed.

“No shame in that though, love” your eyes widened at the nickname “I’m sure you’ll get better at it with time” he winked, and your eyes got even wider.

At that point someone luckily started another topic that you were not familiar with so you could focus on dealing with what just happened. You felt someone stare at you intently and looked up to see the well-known blue eyes boring into your face. His expression was somewhat sombre, and you briefly wondered if he could be jealous. You shook your head at the ridiculousness of the thought and took a large sip of wine. Neil was still looking at you and only stopped when he got asked about a recent mission. You listened curiously:

“Well it was nothing out of the ordinary. Inverted weapons dealer, murky transactions and a proper gunfight in the parking lot” he shrugged, and you wondered if that’s what the future holds for you.

“Any fuck ups this time?”

“Just a small… misunderstanding” Neil raised his arms to show the bruised forearms and the others laughed.

Then the conversation shifted towards more mundane things and you were happy to just listen. You have been pleasantly surprised by the camaraderie you noticed between the squad members and Neil. You have been asked a few questions about your past which were a nice change to the anonymity you got used to during the training. Sometimes you would look at Neil, giving in to curiosity. He was either listening to the conversation or joking with the rest, making use of the infinite charm he seemed to possess. You were not surprised to see that everyone seemed to like him. After a while you lost the sense of time and were pretty sure you had enough wine to regret it in the morning. So when someone mentioned that it is past 1am you groaned out loud and got up. The world swayed before your eyes and you waited another moment to adjust before speaking:

“Sorry I need to go now or else won’t survive the shooting training tomorrow” you smiled apologetically.

“Good luck with that!” Ives sent you another cheeky grin and you laughed.

“Thanks, will be needed” with that you moved towards the exit, waving goodbye.

You started walking down the corridor when you felt a hand touch your arm unexpectedly. You jumped up at the contact.

“Didn’t mean to startle you” Neil smiled, and you glared at him.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t creep up on me” you both continued down the hallway “Why did you leave the party?” “I’m quite tired” you glanced at him surprised “And because I have something important to tell you”

You stopped in front of your door and you leaned on the wall.

“The Protagonist wants to meet you” your eyes widened “That’s what me and Ives talked about before. He said that TP is interested in you and wants us to come to the HQ’s as soon as we can”

You stared at him in shock. It didn’t make any sense.

“Why?”

“No idea” he shrugged, and you were shocked to see him clueless “But I’ll go with you and I want us to get the plane on Friday after your training”

“That’s the day after tomorrow” you frowned, thinking about everything you would need to do before boarding on a plane to the US.

“I know. But from my experience I can tell you that if TP says something, it’s best to listen to him” he added, startling you with the serious tone.

He must have noticed how scared that made you because he reached out to touch your shoulder and gave it a gentle rub.

“Don’t worry about it for now though. I’ll arrange everything for the travel and will come by tomorrow afternoon with details” he let his hand fall to his side and you instantly missed the touch.

You raked through your head for something to say.

“So you’re not disappearing this time?” you asked finally, letting yourself eye him suspiciously.

“Certainly not” he grinned and watched as you opened the door to the room. When you got in, he added:

“But it’s good to know you’ve missed me” the playful sparks made you want to punch him in the teeth.

Instead, you just rolled your eyes pointedly, way too tired.

“G’night, Neil” you muttered and started closing the door.

“Sweet dreams” he whispered and disappeared into the darkness of the corridor.

You covered your head with your hands. This is very inconvenient, you thought while wondering how you got yourself into this situation.

#tenet #neil tenet #neil tenet x reader #neil x reader #neil tenet imagine #neil tenet fanfic #tenet fanfic #robert pattinson #the art of inversion #gifs not mine

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wolveria · 3 years

Text

Blue Moon - Chapter 1

Pairing: Android werewolf!Nines x Reader

Summary: It was Halloween night when you stumbled across the android that looked more monster than machine. Damaged and alone, you didn't have the heart to leave him behind.

You'd always had a weakness for strays.

Prompt: Inspired by art!

Warnings: Rated E, eventual smut, Zlatko experimentation, monster romance

AO3

You pulled your coat closer in a useless attempt to ward off the cold. Winter had decided to make an appearance early this year as snow laid on the ground, and you lamented over the fact you’d chosen to walk home instead of take a taxi. The coffee shop was only a couple blocks away from your apartment, but it felt like a cross country trek as your breath billowed out of your mouth.

The wind rustled through the trees and you shuddered again. The park you’d taken a shortcut through was a good size, and you could no longer see the streetlights that signaled civilization was near.

Why had you decided to do this, again? And on Halloween night? Not that you believed in the paranormal or anything—

You dropped your nearly-empty coffee cup, the last drops spilled and forgotten on the footpath. A pair of glowing blue eyes stared out at you from the underbrush around the base of a tree.

Before you could think to scream, a low whine came from the bush. You placed your hand over your heart and let out a long breath, smiling faintly. It was just a dog, that was all. And the light from the full moon must be making its eyes glow like that. Yes, that’s all it was.

“It’s all right,” you said, offering your hand in what you hoped was a friendly manner, praying it didn’t have rabies. “Come here, boy.”

There was a low thudding noise accompanied by the brush moving. A sad, fluffy tail thumping against the ground.

You gave a sympathetic “awwww” and lightly patted your thighs, hoping to coax it out of its hiding place.

“You poor thing. Are you cold? I bet you’re hungry. Come here, sweetie, let’s get you some… food…”

Your voice trailed off as the glowing pair of blue eyes rose, higher and higher—definitely not at canine level—before it stepped out of the shadows.

It was huge, or at least seemed that way when you’d been expecting a large dog at most. Standing on two legs, it reached over six feet easily, not including the wolfish ears that stuck up from its head. With blue-black fur, sharp nails and a hint of teeth peeking out from its lips, you would have never guessed it was an android if not for the spinning yellow ring at its temple.

The android was also completely naked, not a stitch of clothing to be seen, and you quickly snapped your eyes back up to its face, face flushing at the sheer size of what you’d seen.

It—he took a hesitant step toward you, and if you’d had any of your senses left, you would have run. Android or not, you were fairly certain you were about to be murdered and eaten, and not necessarily in that order.

But your joints were locked, your limbs frozen, and all you could do was watch as the android bent down and wrapped a clawed hand carefully around your discarded coffee cup. Stepping directly in front of you, he slowly held the cup out, his ears laid flat as if afraid you were going to whack him with a rolled up newspaper.

You glanced from face to his outstretched hand. That was when you caught sight of the gash across his ribcage, the exposed internal circuits glittering in the dark.

You’d always had a soft spot for injured animals. And while he might not be an animal, per se, it was close enough that you gently took the coffee cup and gave him a soft thank you.

His ears perked and his tail wagged hopefully as he retracted his hand. He continued the slow wag of his tail as he stared at you expectantly. It took you a minute to realize what he was waiting for. He was, after all, an android, and a canine-like one at that.

He was waiting for orders.

“Are you lost?” you asked. Was he even programmed to talk? “Where do you live? Do you need help getting back home?”

You almost asked who his owner was, but it didn’t feel right. You suspected you’d made the right decision when the question had him folding his ears back, his floofy tail dipping towards the ground.

“Uh, that’s okay.” You tried you best at a soothing smile. “The police station isn’t far from here. I can take you there—“

It was precisely the wrong thing to say; his LED went red and he winced as if you’d slapped him. You weren’t at all prepared for him to open his mouth, and a raspy, rough voice to come out.

“No. Please. Not there.”

You gawked up at him, hardly believing what you’d heard with your own ears, but the android could definitely talk. As strange as he looked, he was capable of communicating his wants.

…and you’d heard rumors about the kinds of androids that wanted.

Carefully you glanced around, but no one else had come across the two of you. It was lucky it was Halloween when most people would be trick-or-treating or handing out candy; the last thing you needed was to be caught in the middle of the night, in a park, with a strange, naked android.

“Okay. No police station.” You rubbed at your arms as you glanced him over, immediately regretting it as your sight dipped below his belly button. Looking away resolutely, you offered, “Why don’t you come back to my place, just for tonight? Get you some clothes and then… we can have a talk.”

Finally, you had said the right thing. His ears went all perky and his tail wagged its fastest yet, but most of all, his LED went blue for the first time. It was the same shade as his glowing eyes.

You gulped. This was such a fucking bad idea.

“I would like that,” he said, voice all soft and gentle. And just like that, you were a goner. No turning back now.

“Come on,” you sighed, stepping around him to continue in the direction of your apartment. It was a bit silly still hanging onto the empty coffee cup, but all you could focus on was the near-silent footfalls behind you as you tried to come up with the best way to sneak a naked android werewolf into your apartment.

***

As it turned out, dealing with the android was a lot less surreal when he had clothes on, even if it was a pair of sweatpants and a tight sweater that barely fit him. You’d have to order some clothes for him tomorrow

If he even wanted to hang around that long. You were under no illusion that if he wanted to leave, you wouldn’t be able to stop him, but for now he seemed content to stay.

The android was currently standing in your living room, fussing with the hem of the sweater that barely covered his waistline. You covered your mouth with your fingers in a poor attempt to hide a smile. Now that you were confident he wasn’t going to eat you, the android was actually quite adorable. You’d even cut out a hole in the back of the pants for him to pull his tail through.

You plopped down onto the couch and padded the cushion next to you. It had been a long time since you’d had a houseguest, and it said a lot about your state of loneliness that you were excited over having a strange android for company.

Said android stared at you for a moment before perching, quite primly, at the other end of the couch. The fact he had to move his tail out of the way before he sat down ruined the composed image he was trying to convey.

He really was very odd, and not just because of all the wolfy bits. This android seemed very much alive, a fact that should have had you picking up the phone to call the authorities. But… you didn’t.

Instead, you bombarded him with questions. What was his name? Where did he come from? Was he a custom model? How had he been injured? The wound looked ghastly, but he hardly noticed it. You made a mental note to add Thirium and android chassis repair sealant to the shopping list. You’d never owned an android before, but you’d always been fascinated with them and knew the basics of what they needed.

“RK900,” was his answer to your first question. He skipped over to the third. “I am… I was a prototype created by CyberLife to assist law enforcement. It would be safer for you if I said nothing further.”

Unable to imagine an android like this working with the police, you guessed he’d looked different, before. More like a standard android instead of one so altered he was nearly unrecognizable.

“Okay, I won’t pry,” you said, amassing all your willpower not to assault him with more questions, the biggest one being why do you look like something out of my deepest, darkest, most shameful wetdream? Yes, you were definitely not venturing into that territory.

Your next question was caught on a yawn, and you looked away as your face grew warm. He was just an android, why were you being so self-conscious about every little thing you did?

It could have been the way he’d watched you ever since you’d stumbled across him in the bushes: laser-like focus that never broke. It didn’t help that the sclera of his eyes were black, making the blue stand out even more.

Also, he didn’t blink. Like, ever.

“I’m gonna head to bed.” You thumbed over your shoulder toward the hallway. “Will you be all right out here? Do you need anything?”

“Yes,” he said. “And no.”

You were picking up on his mannerisms very quickly. He over-enunciated and spoke with perfect grammar. It was in direct contrast to the way his sharp nails toyed with the sweater, or the way his ears would swivel at sounds you barely noticed. At some points in the conversation, he would tilt his head at you in a way that was so dog-like, you had to keep fighting down the smiles. You’d definitely never met an android like this one before, even if he had looked perfectly human.

“I will be fine,” the RK900 added when you continued to stare. “I will rest and repair. I have neglected to enter stasis mode for… quite some time now.”

His eyes dropped to the carpet, demeanor evasive and uncomfortable. It took everything you had not to reach out and pet him on the head.

“I shouldn’t intrude in your personal space. I will be gone in the morning.”

And then you did reach out, placing your hand on his arm. He was solid and surprisingly warm under the fabric of the sweater.

He stared at your hand for a moment before slowly lifting his head to meet your eye. His expression was so… sad. You had no doubt it was authentic, and that you were right about what he was.

“Please, you don’t have to go.” Your voice was soft, ensuring it was a suggestion and not a command. “You’re more than welcome to stay. I want to help you. Will you let me do that?”

The ring on his temple was a solid yellow and you nearly pulled your hand back, but then it went blue and he gave a small nod. You sighed with relief and gave him a gentle pat before letting him go.

“Thank you.” You rose to your feet, stretching to get the kinks out of your shoulders. It was stressful bringing a wayward android home. “I’m just down the hall if you need me. See you in the morning.”

Before you made it to the hallway, you paused and half-turned.

“Do you have a name?”

He blinked up at your question.

“I mean, I know RK900 is your model number, but… you have a name, don’t you?”

His ears drooped. You were learning they were a better indicator of his thoughts than the color of his LED.

“No. CyberLife never gave me one.”

Of course they wouldn’t, you thought, not the first time you’d unhappy with the way androids were treated. CyberLife was by far the worst. Why would they care about any of their merchandise?

“Well, maybe you can come up with one.” You hoped he understood the things you weren’t saying aloud, that you understood what he really was beneath the strange exterior.

His ears perked up and his expression softened.

“That… would be nice.”

Before you could say anything to embarrass yourself, or worse, run over to him and give him a hug, you excused yourself to get ready for bed. Already your mind was going through a checklist of all the things you’d need to care for an android in the long-run, and that was being optimistic. The RK900 could still change his mind. There was still so much you didn’t know.

It wasn’t until you shut off the lights and stared at the ceiling that the implications of your actions truly hit you. You’d seen the news reports, read the independent websites that couldn’t be suppressed by CyberLife. There were androids out there, said to be “lethally malfunctioning,” that were disobeying and turning on their humans.

One of the most common signs to watch out for was mimicry of human emotions. Anger, was the main one, but there was also fear. And that was something you’d seen a lot of tonight shining out of the RK900’s eyes.

You weren’t just harboring an android that looked like a werewolf.

You were sheltering a deviant.

#nines x reader #rk900 x reader #detroit become human #werewolf nines #werewolf android nines #zlatko experiment nines #click on the artwork to see what he actually looks like #but this is still a great screenshot #my writing #my fanfiction

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thejacketandthehook · 4 years

Text

The Art of Pretending

Title: The Art of Pretending 1/?

Author: thejacketandthehook (aka everystareverywhere)

Summary: Killian Jones needs a family and needs one now. In order to impress his boss, Killian hires a single mother and her son to pretend to be his wife and son for the weekend. Nothing can go wrong, right?

Author’s Notes: Hello all! Here is my submission for the @captainswanmoviemarathon!This is based off of the Lifetime movie, "Borrowed Hearts," starring Eric McCormack and Roma Downey. The movie came out in 1997, and I consider it to be one of the first made-for-tv Christmas movies.

A couple of years ago I was watching it and thought this would be a fantastic scenario for our favorite Captain and Savior. I wrote it and then stopped, and then started it again, only to stop again. When I saw this movie marathon, I knew instantly this was the movie I wanted to do and I wanted to make sure that I finished it this time.

I hope you enjoy it!

Rating: Teen (for language mostly)

Word Count: 3534

A3O

Henry Swan looked up at the night sky and closed his eyes. If anything in his eight years of life has taught him, it was the first star you saw was the one you always made a wish on. And so he did. He closed his eyes so tightly, his little fists clutched, and his mind could only focus on one thing.

A house.

Not necessarily a home, because at eight he really didn't understand the difference between a house and a home. To him, they kind of meant the same thing. And he did have a home, with his mother, Emma, and their landlord, a fiery older woman she insisted that everyone call "Granny." But it was Thanksgiving, and he knew that he should be giving thanks for the fact that he has a roof over his head, friends and family to eat with, and food on the table - even if his mother does make him eat vegetables.

But they lived in a small apartment where you can hear every sound all the tenants make. You couldn't have the air conditioner on at the same time as the oven, and God forbid you try to take a bath without the neighbors below complaining of a leak. Henry's room was also the size of a closet, which could only contain his bed, a small dresser, and an even smaller toy box. He was getting too big for the room, honestly. The rest of the apartment was rundown, and he knew that his mother was doing the best that she could. She worked really long hours as a waitress in a local diner.

But no matter how hard she worked, it never seemed to be enough. The only thing he asked for for his birthday this year was a fairy tale book he saw at a secondhand book store. The book is amazing, but it also cost upwards of fifty dollars. He felt bad, because he knew that his mom was getting a bill after bill after bill. She tried to hid it from him, but he knew was "LAST NOTICE" meant.

(He looked it up online, honestly.)

So while he was wishing for a house, a smaller part of him was hoping his mother could get a better job or something to help get more money. They needed it.

Henry also needed a bigger room.

"Henry!" his mother called from the dining room. "Food's ready!"

Walking away from his window, Henry took a deep breath before bouncing into the room. "Smells delicious, Mom!"

"Oh, thanks kid. But Granny's the one who cooked everything," she said, gesturing to the older woman who walked in carrying the turkey.

"Hey, I made the dessert!" Granny's only grandchild, and fellow waitress at the diner that Granny owned and Emma worked at, Ruby piped up. "It's apple pie." She winked at Henry. "Your favorite."

"It's supposed to be pumpkin pie on Thanksgiving," Emma said, coming into the room wearing oven mitts as she carried a casserole dish filled with mashed potatoes.

"We have that too," Mary Margaret Nolan chimed. She was Emma's best friend, and Henry's godmother. Henry looked at her as more like a family member than a friend, along with her husband, David, who was putting ice in the cups. "David made a fresh pie this morning."

"Only the best for my nephew," he said, grinning at Henry.

The table that was only supposed to seat four sat the six of them somewhat snuggly. Henry was squished between his mother and aunt, and he smiled as he looked around. After everyone sat down, Granny insisted that they should say grace, and though Henry only went to church for Easter and Christmas (and the occasionally Sunday when Emma feels that they should go), he bowed his head too.

He might have said his only little prayer, because when you're desperate for a change, you'll pray (or wish) to anything.

"Let's eat!" Granny announced as she got up to cut the turkey. There was a lot of chatter and music playing softly in the background. Emma filled Henry's plate with turkey, mashed potatoes, and corn, and he thought that maybe the house wasn't big, but his heart certainly was.

~*~

Three weeks before Christmas. God, did he hate this time of year. Everyone was so fake, pretending to be in the Christmas spirit when really they were just looking for a way to buy their mother a gift that was way too expensive because they're not actually sure what she would want.

Killian Jones sighed as he entered his place of work and walked past the receptionists who might have said hello to him, but he wasn't sure. Because right now, he had big news. Huge, really. And he really needed to get to the thirty fourth floor to find his business partner (and perhaps closet friend) David Nolan.

Killian began working for the Woodman Corporation right out of college. He started as everyone does, an intern before just working his way up. Now he's the manager of this branch in New York, and overseas hundreds of workers. Not bad for a boy who came over to America when he was fifteen with his brother and barely any money in their pockets.

The Woodman Corporation was the company you wanted to hire when you wanted a building made. "We make dreams come true!" had always been the slogan. And though Killian wasn't exactly sure about the dreams part, they certainly did make wonderful buildings. And the owner, Marco Woodman, was just the kindest soul one could meet. Killian had the occasion to meet him once before, which was when Mr. Woodman came to visit his New York office, and Killian had just started getting paid for his work at that time. There was another branch in Boston, one in Chicago, and one in Los Angeles. Rumor was that Marco wanted to go overseas, and back to his home, London. Killian would almost kill for the position. Killian too was from London, and would love to go back. Nothing was really keeping him here in New York anyway.

Killian got on the elevator, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He had to see David and tell him the news. Now. He was going to burst if he didn't tell his partner the news in the next minute.

Killian has known David for only the last number of years, but it certainly feels longer than that. While Killian had already been working here when he arrived, David had an air about them that screamed “Royalty” and walked around like he had a stick up his butt. In actuality, Killian and David hadn’t really become that close until two summers ago when they were accidently stuck in an elevator together. Though it was only forty-five minutes, the two men realized that they had quite a bit in common and after that moment became fast friends. David is the first person that Killian runs to with news, and vice versa. So it’s no wonder that not only would Killian practically run to his friend’s office, but that he knew David would share the same excitement with him.

Finally, the elevator dinged and he got off, quickly making his way to David's office. Barely greeting David's secretary, Killian burst open the door to David's office before proclaiming, "He's coming here."

David looks exactly how you picture Prince Charming from those fairy tale stories you probably heard about years ago. Tall, masculine, with blue eyes and sandy-brown hair, he was definitely the typical “boy-next-door” that every daughter wants to bring home to show their momma. Fortunately for David, and unfortunately for all the women who work at this branch, David met his soulmate when he was in high school and married her straight after college. Killian thought he was foolish to marry the one and only girl he ever truly loved, but David told him that she was “the one who he made sure would never get away.” Killian scoffed at that, and called him a blind-loving fool in his mind.

When Killian came bursting through the door, David looked up from his desk. "Who? Jesus? Has the second coming come so close to Christmas?"

"No, you ninny. Marco is coming here."

David stood up slowly, a look of astonishment and awe on his face. "Are you serious? Dude, this is huge. If he's coming here that means..."

Killian started to grin. "I know."

"Maybe the rumors are true. Maybe he is going to make a branch in London."

"Oh, how I hope they are."

"That might be why he's coming. Maybe he's here to offer you the job."

Killian crossed two fingers. "I do sure hope you're right."

David pretended to be hurt. "And you would consider leaving me and Mary Margaret in this our hour of need?"

"Our of need? Mate, she's pregnant, not dying. And she's got another three months to go. I can come back from London by then."

"Would you really go?" David asked, sitting back down behind his desk.

Killian shrugged. "Probably. I mean, Liam is back there, you know, with Elsa and my nephew. And I do love New York, but...I don't know. Maybe I should go back. Besides you, I have nothing really tying me here, you know."

"I'm touched that you would consider staying for me."

Killian smirked. "You know I love our bromance. Is that what Mary Margaret called it?"

"Yeah, apparently, that's what her students call it nowadays. A friendship between two men."

"They're ten. They don't know what's hip any more than we do."

"They're closer to understanding it."

Killian sighed as he sat down. "Isn't that true? But back to the matter at hand – Mr. Woodman coming here. Now. I wonder if Regina knows about this.”

“Probably,” David sighed as he sat back down behind his desk. “She’s the head of P.R. here, if anyone should know about Mr. Woodman’s return, it –”

“Men,” Regina Mills, said sternly as she threw open the office door. With her dark black hair and dark brown eyes, Regina was beautiful, but she was by no means a warm woman. However, she had a sort of soft spot for Killian and David, which is why they only gave a small jump when she walked into the room, and didn’t scream or nearly jump out of their chairs (which Killian would be ashamed to admit may have happened once. May have.) “Did you hear the news?”

“About Mr. Woodman?” David asked, as Regina walked further into the room and nodded. “Yeah, we did. We were just discussing why he might be coming here.”

“Well, isn’t it obvious? He wants someone to take over the London section.”

“And what, you want the job?” Killian asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Please,” she scoffed, as though the thought alone was ridiculous. Killian has known Regina long enough to know that she was being serious with her answer. “The last thing I would want is to move to London. All that rain and eating fish?” She shuttered, and Killian and David gave a small grin to each other before looking back at her. “No thank you. No, I wanted to talk to you about Mr. Woodman, and….”

Just then, David’s assistant, Ariel, popped her head into the office and said, “Mr. Jones – sorry to interrupt, but your assistant called. He said that you have Mr. Woodman on the phone.”

Killian, David, and Regina all looked at each other. Killian was so excited, he barely noticed Regina’s face pale as he replied, “Send the call through to here.” Ariel nodded before closing the door behind her.

“Killian, before you take that call—” Regina started, but Killian waved her off.

“Whatever it is, it can wait, Regina. This might the moment my life changes,” he grinned at his friend, who grinned back at him.

“Yeah, about life changing…” But before Regina could get another word in, the phone on David’s desk rang.

Killian smiled before he leaned over, picked up the phone, and pressed the button to except the call. “Mr. Woodman, sir, what a wonderful surprise.”

“Mr. Jones? How are you doing?” Marco asked in his old Italian voice.

“I’m fine, sir, just fine. And how are you?”

“Bene, fine. I needed to talk to you, Mr. Jones—”

“Please, call me Killian.”

Marco chuckled. “Killian, eh? Killian, I needed to talk to you. I would love to come to New York to visit, yes? I want to see how we are doing there.”

“Oh, you’re coming here?” Killian asked, trying to keep the surprise out of his voice, even though he looked at David and both pumped the air. “Oh, sir, that’s wonderful. In fact, I insist that you stay at my house, as my guest.”

“Killian, that is very kind, very kind. I would love to stay with you and your family.”

He smiled and was about to respond when Marco’s words registered. Smile fading, he shook his head as he asked, “Stay with my family—?”

Before he could ask what exactly Mr. Woodman meant by that, Regina took the phone out of Killian’s hand and said, “Mr. Woodman? Regina Mills here, how are you?” She paused as he answered. “Oh, I’m fine, just fine. Yes, Killian is fine, he just got into a coughing fit, poor thing.” She lied, looking at him and then glancing away when he mouthed, Regina, what the hell? “Oh, yes, Killian would love to have you come and meet his family, I’m sure.” She paused again before, “Yes, Mrs. Jones and their child are anxious to meet you too.” Killian’s eyes almost bugged out of their head, his mouth dropping before he looked over at David, who was just as stunned as Killian was. “Yes, I will pass along the message. Yes, Killian is fine now. We can’t wait to see you either, Mr. Woodman. Ciao.”

As soon as the phone was back in the receiver, Killian all but screamed, “Regina, what the bloody hell is he talking about?! What family does he want to meet?!”

Regina leaned on David’s desk, and though her shoulders were back and her back was straight, she kept looking down at her shoes. She muttered something under her breath.

“What was that?” David asked.

She cleared her throat. “I may have touched up your image a bit.”

Killian raised his eyebrows even higher and leaned forward. “Wait. What?”

“Well, it’s just,” she paused before continuing. “I know you’re a hard-working man, but…Marco has certain expectations, and Killian….”

“Yeah?”

“Well, you just…don’t meet them.”

“What do you mean? You just said I’m a hard-working man.”

Now she looked at him. “You are! And you completely deserve that London promotion. But Marco is a family man, and he expects his employees to also be family…people.”

“You’re not a family person,” David muttered before sinking further into his seat when Regina gave him a glare over her shoulder.

“That may be true,” she added softly as she looked down before flicking her hair over her shoulder. “But I’m not the one who needs to impress Marco for a job.”

“What are you saying, Regina, that you ‘spruced’ up my image?” Killian asked, his stomach going somewhere near the floor.

Looking him straight into the eye, she proclaimed, “That’s exactly what I did.”

Killian shook his head and began pacing behind the chairs that were facing David’s desk. “Wait, you told Marco that I have a family? What kind of family?”

She shrugged. “The normal kind. A wife and kid.”

“Regina, why would you do such a thing?” David asked. “Killian’s not a bad guy.”

“No, I know that,” she insisted. “But I mean…you may have a bit of a reputation.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Killian, don’t play stupid, it’s not a good look on you,” she snapped at him. “You know how it looks that at every Christmas party or celebration we have in the office, you either show up with a woman no one has seen before or sees again, or you come alone. And Marco is a well-established business man, who prides himself on a having a good family.”

“Didn’t he adopt?” Killian asked.

“Does it matter?” Regina replied. “He has a kid. He loved his wife until her passing. He prides himself on hiring people who are loyal and respectable, and who know that family is above all else.”

“How in hell do you know so much about this?” David asked.

“I’m the P.R. person, of course I need to know almost everything about our C.E.O.” She rolled her eyes.

“There’s just one problem with your plan, darling,” Killian said, clutching his hands on the chair and leaning forward. “I don’t have a bloody family!” Taking a deep breath, he said as calmly as he could, “You know that I only have my brother who is in London right now.”

“Yes, yes, I know that,” Regina nodded. For once in her life, Regina paused to think about what she should say next. "I might have come up with a hypothetically family for you, yes. In all honestly, I just said it so he would meet with you."

"We have met!"

"Yes, years ago. Killian, you were barely out of college when you two met. I'm going to go out on a limb here and say he doesn't even remember you."

"Well, gee, thanks," Killian replied sarcastically.

"So," David interrupted, finally. "Let me get this straight. When Mr. Woodman comes, Killian - who just invited him to stay at his house - is going to showcase his family, which he doesn't have?"

Regina nodded. "Yes, that's pretty much the story."

David looked Killian sympathetically. "You're screwed, man."

Killian gave him a look before he replied sarcastically, "Thanks mate."

"Listen, we'll fix this." Regina stated.

"How? Are you going to tell Mr. Woodman that my "family" died tragically in a car accident? Because I don't see how we can fix this?"

"We'll give you a family, dumbass!"

Killian raised an eyebrow before looking at David and commenting, "She's the one who invented a family for me, but I'm the dumbass?"

"I was trying to make you look better!" Regina argued. "I don't think Mr. Woodman- once more remind you, a family man - would want to hear stories about how you have dated every woman in New York."

"That's not true," Killian scoffed. "I haven't dated you."

"Thank Heavens for that," David commented.

"Can we focus on the problem at hand? Where the hell are we going to find a family that will suit our needs?"

David suggested, "Craigslist?"

"We call acting companies," Regina replied, already taking out her phone and, knowing her as he did, started looking up nearby acting organizations. "I'm sure for the right price, anyone will pretend to be married to you for two days."

"Hey!" Killian shouted, feeling the slightest bit insulted.

"Wait, I think..." David started to say, his eyes wide in thought. But just as quickly, he shut his eyes and quickly shook his head. "Nah. Never mind."

"What mate?"

"Well, it's just...I actually know a single mom with a young boy. And she could really use the cash."

Killian looked at David like he was an angel from up above. "Are you being serious right now?"

"Completely. She's a single mom living in an apartment that is basically the size of your living room. I think she's trying to save money for something bigger, so you would totally be helping her out."

Killian scratched the back of his neck as he looked at Regina. "What do you think?"

She shrugged. "No harm in asking. It would work perfectly in all honestly." She looked over at David. "This woman is trustworthy?"

"Emma? Oh, completely," he replied without a bit of hesitation.

"What about her son? How old is he?"

David thought about it for a moment before replying, "I believe eight, and he's got a wonderful imagination. He'll have no trouble selling the family part, I promise."

Killian still looked unsure. "I don't like this. Faking a family for a business deal?"

Regina took him by the shoulders as she whispered, "Killian Jones. This is not just a business deal. This business deal could help our company go global, if we sell to London. Who knows, Paris could be next, then Germany, you don't know! But this is the deal that you worked day and night for."

"The one that she was willing to lie for, to make you look better," David added. Regina gave him a look with a raised eyebrow.

Killian shrugged off Regina's hands as he said, "I know, I know. I just...I don't like the idea of being dishonest."

"I know it's not ideal, mate, but it's a hell of a deal."

“Do you think she would go for it,” Killian asked David. “This…Emily?”

“Emma. And…honestly…I don’t know. She’s the only person I’ve ever met who is more stubborn than you are. But I can ask.”

Killian took a deep breath before replying, “My fate lies in your hands.”

#captain swan #captain swan movie marathon #fanfiction #CSMM #CSMM2020 #cs ff

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n6or · 4 years

Text

don’t leave me | raihan nsfw

Rating: Explicit

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: F/M

Fandom: Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions

Relationships: Kibana | Raihan/ReaderDande

Additional Tags: Self-Insert, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex, Hand Jobs, Drunk Sex

Words: 4456

READ HERE ON AO3!

It was a blur, really. A messy night of open-mouthed kisses and desperate touches between two hopeless singles. His mouth had found the soft skin of your neck, sucking, biting, bruising the beautiful canvas with his own work of art. Your back had arched up off his bed, thighs trembling as strong hands caressed your supple curves. Even drunk he had you wrapped around his finger, flushing furiously as his hot breath fanned against your ear. You knew it was a mistake—knew that it was just a drunken fling, but the way he held you, the way he whispered those sweet nothings as if it were only the two of you left in the world… it made your heart flutter.

And that’s why, when the first rays of light disrupted your sleep, you knew you had to leave. The light that filtered through the thin curtain made your head throb- made you want to groan and grumble in annoyance, but that would stir Raihan.

Raihan.

Ah.

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and blinked.

Morning blurs were the worst...

From your right came a quiet grumble, the Dragon Tamer clearly disturbed by your efforts of reaching over to grab your glasses from the bedside table. You bit your lip once his very strong (and very naked) arm tightened around your waist.

The way the sun poured through from your left, highlighting his beautiful, brown complexion… It made your heart flutter. It reminded you of why you had to leave. And that’s why you did. With no note, no goodbye, and no apology, you left.

Raihan was your best friend--he had always been your best friend. Ever since you were children you had been inseparable; wherever one was, the other wouldn’t be too far. You both followed very strict rules. Very strict rules imposed by a certain dragon gym leader. You were best friends and that was it. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, of accidentally breaking your heart and having you leave him forever.

“I mean, it’s not like you even like me, so it’s not too much to ask, yeah?”

The way he smiled that day almost knocked the wind from your lungs. How could he be so dense? You weren’t sure if you wanted to yell or cry or both. So instead, you smiled and gave him a sharp nudge of the elbow to his ribcage.

“Of course I don’t like you, idiot.”

You rushed down the brick pathway of Hammerlocke, praying that you could just make it back home without too much disturbance. Thankfully, it seemed as if your author was kind and you returned home to have a brisk shower. You grimace at the constellation of reds and purple that litter your chest, neck, thighs, shit!

“Good job, Dragon tamer,” you growl before drying yourself off and changing into your uniform.

There’s a shaky sigh as you pull on your lab coat, noticing the way the red blemishes (along with the very prominent bite marks) are still visible above your collar. Tapping your foot repeatedly, you let out another heavy huff, removing your glasses for a moment.

“Stupid idiot,” you mumble again, voice quiet, shaky. You rub your temples, fingers trembling slightly. “You ruin everything. Every single damn time!” Whether your words were directed at Raihan or yourself, you don’t quite know… but the burn in your chest doesn’t ease up at all.

The memories of last night ache your head as you stroll into the research facility, scarf around your neck, eyes fixated on the floor as you make your way to your desk.

“Heya~ Well don’t you just look beautiful~” Sonia is laughing as she approaches your desk, twirling some of her ginger hair. “I didn’t think you’d really get that drunk! You almost outdrank me!”

You grimace at the thought, adjusting your glasses.

“Y-Yeah… It was pretty wild, I guess.”

“Hm… and you disappeared sometime after Raihan left, too!” Sonia is pouting and you can feel the anxiety swelling in the pit of your throat. “Did you both get home oka-”

“Delivery!”

Thanking the heavens above, you shout suddenly, “I’ll get it!” Before leaving your desk. You sign for the package and ignore the chuckling comments made about your scarf in the summer heat. You just smile and bid them a safe journey before closing the doors.

Staring down at the box in your hands, you worry your lower lip, teeth anxiously raking at the soft skin. You could avoid talking about it, but you couldn’t avoid the way you felt about it. Your stomach was shallow and your chest felt . . . weird. You couldn’t describe it. But knowing that the friendship between you and Raihan had been destroyed in one night… It felt like a cold cavity.

The scarf helped.

It helped more than that delivery man knew.

It’s lunchtime when you first check your phone. You were anxious, terrified of seeing a message from Raihan, but there was nothing. You stared at the screen in disbelief for a few short moments.

“You expecting a call?” Sonia suddenly asks, leaning over your shoulder and peaking at your phone screen.

“S-Sonia!” You yelp, clutching your phone to your phone and looking up at the ginger.

“What? It was just a simple question, y’know~ if you need to go make a call to a certain someone I totally get it!” She fixes your scarf with a small smile before offering a rather sympathetic smile. “But I hope you’re okay… You seem really…” She trails off and drags a chair over to sit beside you, sighing. “You seem out of it. Like, normally I wouldn’t press this kind of thing, because I know it makes you nervous, but it’s affecting your work and…”

“I’m fine.” You manage out, interrupting her second trailing sentence. She searches your eyes, a gentle hand now resting on your knee. Then she nods.

“Alrighty then!” Sonia gives you a firm rub to the shoulder before leaving some documents.

When she leaves, you sigh, leaning back into your chair. There’s a faint wince from the dull ache in your hips, head hanging over the back of the chair.

This was going to suck.

Bad.

The day is long and drawn out and by the end of it you’re certain you’re going to pass out. You can’t quite pinpoint when you actually fell asleep last night, but it must’ve been late considering the daze that seems to be clouding your head. Reaching for a Poke-ball from your bag, you falter for a moment. You notice one rotom phone in amongst your keys, but then you find a second… and it’s Raihan’s.

“C’mon!” Raihan laughs into your ear. Your cheeks are burning by this stage. Hell, with the way his hands hold your hips and his lips caress the shell of your ear, you’re certain that the heat you’re exuding could cook any curry. “Let’s dance, babe! It’s one night~ C’mon! Put my phone in your bag and let’s dance~”

The memory hits you like a truck -- so hard that you’ve had to crouch. A poke ball rolls out of your opened bag and out pops a familiar little Leafeon. She hums softly, curiously, waddling over to nuzzle against your thigh.

“Lea? Leafeon?” She purrs, her two little paws resting on your knee as she leans up and nudges her nose against the backs of your hands. Your fingers part and you meet her caramel eyes, earning and excited squeak from the eeveelution. She presses her nose to your cheek, and you sigh shakily.

You have to pull it together.

And that’s exactly why you did the only thing that you knew you could do in this situation; you called Leon.

“Heya! How’s it going, mate?” Leon’s voice is somewhat strained as he speaks, words hurried.

“Uh, hey Lee. I wanted to--” You can hear muffled voices in the background as you talk. You frown. “Ask you a favour… Could I drop something off to you?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah! Sure mate, sure! Uh--Hop, just--Sorry, Y/N, I’ve got a situation here, haha.”

“Oh… I could call back if you…”

“No! Wait, Y/N, wait!” It’s Raihan’s voice. You blink, swallowing thickly.

“I-I have to go. Can you tell Raihan that Sonia will have his phone? Thanks.”

You hang up.

Leafeon purrs sadly, her head pressing to the shaking of your palm. She licks it gently before nudging at your leg.

You had to take the phone to Sonia.

All you wanted to do was disappear.

And that’s what you did.

Without explanation, you shoved Raihan’s phone into Sonia’s hands and took off to the Wild Area.

“You’ll--You’ll regret this,” you whisper, breathless. “Raihan.. Ha…”

“I could never regret making love to you,” he countered quietly, larger hands holding your thighs, your legs over his shoulders as he kissed up to your throbbing warmth. “Never, Y/N.”

His mouth is hot against you, tongue lapping up the sopping wetness of your nether regions. The way he curls his tongue inside of you would have, on normal circumstances, remindws you that this isn’t his first rodeo, and, on normal circumstances, that would have you refusing any sort of affection let alone sex… but with the aid of a little alcohol, you didn’t care. You wanted to hold Raihan, to let him touch you, to use you, to love you… even if it was only for one night.

You wanted to love him, even if it was a drunken mistake on his behalf.

Pushing back the vines of your secret little area, you sigh shakily. Along the way you had released Bewear from her friend ball; she had let you rest on her back, taking you back to the little place most of your Pokemon knew you loved. You give her a warm squeeze before dropping back down to your feet.

It’s a clearing decorated with beautiful wild flowers, shrubs, lit by nothing by the moon and the little lights that litter the night sky. Your hands are shaky as you pitch your tent, Beware and Leafeon both try their best to help you, sensing that something is off. Once the tent is done, you smile your thanks, give them one final embrace, and return the pair back to their respective Poke-balls. You tuck both away into your satchel and sigh. Tonight, you decide to go to bed without dinner, and without checking your phone. And instead, you grab your dragon jacket -- the one matching to Raihan’s -- and curl into it.

You don’t recall how long the cries racked your body for, but somewhere along the way your silent sobs ceased, and exhaustion won.

You were gone for almost a week. On the first absence from work Sonia had called you, on the third day with no word it was Leon who called you, and on the seventh day…

Well, when you woke up, it wasn’t morning, nor were you alone. Considering your world was blurred from the lack of glasses, all you could see was the outline of a giant, black shadow moving outside your tent. Your eyes widened when you heard the twig snap. Battling was not your speciality. You see, you never wanted to be champion, that was always Raihan’s dream. You were happy to live a contented life amongst your Pokémon and work for Sonia as her assistant until Hop was old enough to train…

So, to put it simply, you were completely

and utterly

fucked

right now--

especially if that thing intended on fighting you.

You reach for your glasses first, grabbing your ladle second. Like hell you’d put your Pokémon in danger. You’re shaking profusely as you quietly raise to your feet, eyes burning, stinging, wet. As you approach the entrance of your tent, you hear a hushed profanity leave the beast outside. You pause instantly, brows knitting together.

“Fuckin’ sticks,” comes the growl.

That’s when you launch yourself out of the tent, aiming high with your ladle and throwing it at the offender.

“O-Oi! Y/N, Y/N! It’s me! It’s--” Raihan’s standing there, hands raised defensively, eyes flicking between you and the murder weapon. He blinks incredulously. “Is that-- …Is that a ladle?”

“Yes it’s a ladle. Mind your business. More importantly, why are you here at goodness knows what time, you moron?! You’re--that’s so inconsiderate of you! I seriously thought I was going to die, you stupid, big, dragon, moro--” Your words are cut off when two strong arms envelope you into the tightest, warmest hug you have ever received.

“I know.. I know. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Your arms lay limp by your sides, eyes staring up at the full moon. Ah. It’s beginning to blur for you now.

“Stop it,” you whisper, voice feeble. “I don’t want this. I don’t want you doing this…”

“I have to apologise, Y/N.”

He clutches you tighter, his face buried in the warmth of your hair.

“No you don’t. If you apologise, then you will end up apologising for what happened--for being drunk. You’ll say it was a mistake and you never wan--”

Again, your words are cut off, but this time it’s by a warm pair of lips occupying your own. Your eyes are wide, tears glistening in the light of the moon.

Your hands come to his chest and you push him back.

“S-Stop that,” You wipe your mouth on the back of your hands, looking away. “Go away, Raihan. You’re-- You’re making things worse.”

Raihan grabs your wrists so gently… they’re almost completely different to the ones you felt the other night.

“Do you really want me to go away, Y/N…?” His voice is quieter than usual -- all his usual confidence seemingly extinguished. You feel the way his lips press tenderly against each of your fingers. It makes thinking hard.

“You’re…” By now you’re looking down, embarrassed, flustered… “You’re the one who made the rules… It was never me. I never wanted them but you’re too stupid to realise that I’ve been-” You cut yourself off from pouring out anymore unnecessary information. Your eyes are wet again. Snatching your hands away from the dragon gym leader, you turn your back to him and move away. “This is your fault and here I am, trying to fix your mess again…” You rub at the back of your neck, sighing shakily. You take your glasses off and rub at your eyes profusely, angrily, shoulders trembling.

“Y/N…” Raihan’s voice is so small as he moves to stand behind you. “It was shit what I did-”

“It was.”

“And I’m shit-”

“You are.” You sniff and there’s silence.

“But please don’t send me away, Y/N. I know I made those stupid rules. I was scared. I know that sounds stupid, but we were so young, and I was already so into you…” You can feel his fingertips gingerly reaching to touch you but pulling back just before he can complete the contact. “That night wasn’t a mistake at all. You’re not a mistake, Y/N. I’m pissed off that I took advantage of you while you were drunk… While we were both drunk… and for that—man… you’ll never get how sorry I am.” The crack in his voice makes you flinch.

Hesitantly, your fingers meet, yours curling around his, faces still downcast. You hear the breath of relief, followed by the forehead dropping onto your shoulder. His free arm wraps slowly, cautiously, around your waist, drawing you back into him. His face is wet in the crook of your neck and you have to bite your lip to stop yourself from crying again.

Instead, you turn around in his arms and bury yourself into his chest, his arms caging you between them and the warmth of his body. Your hands move up the outlines of his tensing shoulder muscles, fingers curling into the back of his shirt.

“I thought the promises would stop me losing you,” he murmured. “But instead they just fucked things up even more, huh?” His hand goes to the back of your hair, fingers entangling in the back of your feathery strands of hair.

The embrace you share under the moon lasts forever. Your body slots perfectly against Raihan’s larger frame. You feel so exhausted, yet so content, so secure, you never knew this state was possible.

“Y/N,” Raihan whispers quietly, fingers threading through your hair. You look up and his hands move to cradle your flushed cheeks, thumbs smoothing over the dampened, burning skin. His eyes search yours, his brows knitted, silently asking and searching for your answer.

When your lashes flutter shut and you tilt your head up, he leans down slowly, taking his time to press your lips together; to relish in suppleness, in the way they fit together perfectly, his slightly thicker than yours, but as gentle as ever. The kiss is slow and patient, easing your anxious heart and near on leaving you breathless. You were never good at the whole kissing thing, never knowing where to put your hands, when to breathe—do you breathe while kissing?

Embarrassed, you pull away, turning your face in an attempt of hiding the way the moon highlights your burning cheeks.

“What’s wrong? Did I go too fast?” You shake your head, leaning into his palm.

“I… don’t know how to do that kinda stuff, y’know? The other night… You and I, well…”

Raihan’s expression was unreadable for a moment before he slowly took your hand in his, staring down into your eyes.

“I can teach you if you want,” he whispers softly, squeezing your hand. “I know I don’t deserve it… but I don’t want to be just the best friend, Y/N. If you don’t want me, I’ll respect that, and I’ll walk away right now… but if you’ll have me then I guess I’m asking…”

“S-Stop being so… Sh-Sheesh… You’re so not that cocky little brat of a gym leader I know…” You peek up at him over your glasses and offer a sheepish grin. His eyes blink wide, almost like an excited puppy, and he tackles you into a bone-crushing hug.

You’re about to protest when suddenly his lips are on yours, and just like the other night, you’re melting into the warmth of the Dragon Tamer. Skilled hands find your hips and slowly guide you back into the tent. There’s a small ting, a low groan, and a muffled laugh when you step into the shelter. Raihan breaks the kiss to rub his injured head, laughing along with you.

Taking your hands, Raihan leads you back to the cot, slowly reclining you back onto the softer surface. He hovers above you, leaning on his arm, one knee between your thigh whilst the other rests against you. He searches your eyes for any sign of hesitation or reluctance but finds none. It’s then that he leans down and recaptures your lips once more, observing the way your eyes flutter shut and your cheeks instantly warm. With his right hand, he caresses your thigh, squeezing it, and earning a quiet gasp from you.

Raihan takes the opportunity to slowly lick into your mouth, his tongue sliding over and around yours, eliciting wet, obscene noises that make your face burn even hotter. He figures you must be nervous with the way you cling to him, your arms laced around his shoulders tightly, lips shyly parted. Though it’s when he sucks on your tongue that you find yourself whining.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers against your swelling lips. When your eyes open, you noticed how his are glazed over with a look you’ve never seen before – his eyes half lidded and seemingly…lustful. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Y/N. Can I take photos? Just for us, y’know?”

“H-Haa?! But--? It—Dammit, Raihan. If those photos leak—if even one soul sees—I will end yo—”

You’re cut off with another cheeky kiss, the younger boy laughing into your mouth. He pulls back and smiles at you once more before setting up his Rotom.

“Like hell I’d let anybody else see you like this, babe,” The Rotom flies into the air as Raihan shoots you an almost animalistic smirk. “You’re mine now, Princess. And only I’m gonna be usin’ those photos.”

Raihan finds himself kissing up your bare thighs after having slowly dragged your underwear off and away, desperate to have his head between your thighs again. You gasp when you feel his two fingers pry your lips apart, his tongue taking its time to roll over and around your clit. Your back arches up off the bed at the contact, thighs trembling either side of his head. Your hands scramble to find his hair, breath quickening as his tongue flicks and his lips suck at the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Ra—Rai.. Shit—Ha, Raihan..” His name seems to be the only thing (other than profanities) that you seem to know. You buck your hips desperately into the other’s mouth, tugging on his hair and earning another low groan from the man.

“Now, now,” he mumbles against your heat, looking up at you from between your thighs. His gaze is lazy, seductive. He’s smirking at you, tongue slowly sliding along your clit, barely touching the wetness. “Be a good girl.” He instructs firmly, pushing your hips down.

You writhe beneath his strong hold as his mouth continues to abuse your sensitive regions, completely unrelenting in the way he sucks at your clit, teeth occasionally nibbling at the bud. It’s then that you feel a familiar pressure building within your abdomen, curling like a coil that’s about to snap at any given moment. You try to warn Raihan, you do. You tug at his hair, choking out incoherent sobs of his name, trying to pull him off… but of course Raihan doesn’t give in. In fact, he pries his forefinger between your sodden, velvety walls and presses upwards, stroking along the upper roof of your sex.

That’s the final straw. It’s all too much to think about: his tongue, his teeth, his finger—

Before too long you’re coming with a loud cry, back arching up off the bed as he continues to thrust his finger inside of you, tongue mercilessly lapping at your throbbing clit. Your body convulses and shakes atop the cot, fingers tugging harshly at Raihan’s now matted black hair. You continue to cry his name as he licks you out, even replacing his finger with his tongue, groaning as he licks you clean.

You feebly push at his head, whimpering and twitching in the afterglow of your orgasm.

“Too… Too much—sensitive… No more, Rai.” He looks up at you from between your thighs, expression rather adorable. You pant through a smile, allowing a small laugh to pass. “How can you look so cute after doing something so lewd…?”

“Lewd? I don’t think making love is lewd!” He inches up your body, kissing over old marks that barely present themselves. “I’d do anything you asked me, babe.” You smile as he kisses you once again, but soon frown.

“But you haven’t…”

“It’s okay. I’m not really prepared, anyway. I don’t have any condoms.”

You nod slowly. You trace your fingers over his naked chest before looking back up to meet the gaze of the Dragon Tamer.

“Can I touch you?”

He blinks a few moments, seeming as If he has short circuited, but quickly nods. “Y-Yeah, yeah. Babe, that would be—shit, that’d be really good… D’you want me to show you?” At your nod, he takes your hand. “Do you have any oil around here? It’ll make it easier.”

You ponder over the question for a moment before reaching over into your bag and fishing out a small container of rose oil.

“Alright, sick. I’m gonna pour some in your hand, yeah? It’ll make it easier for you.” You nod, watching as he pours said oil into the palm of your hand. He observes your expression as he slowly shimmies himself out of his boxer shorts, snickering when your eyes widen. He kisses your forehead for a few lingering moments before taking your hand in his and guiding your hand to the base of his thick shaft. Raihan’s thick lashes fall shut once your soft hand touches his proud cock. He can’t stop the involuntary twitch of his hips.

You blink in disbelief, watching the way his face contorts as your hands slowly move along his pulsating cock. It’s quite hot, you note—the temperature of his… it makes you blush. Seeing him so pliant under your touch like this… it gives you a surge of courage – of boldness. You lean up and press soft kisses to the younger’s neck, following the twisting motion of his hand.

“Shit, Y/N,” he breathes, shakily. He thrusts into your hand when you near his tip. You notice the faint tremble of his hips. Your hand hesitantly moves to the other’s tip, squeezing the sensitive head, experimentally touching him. “F-Fucking—shit, Y/N. Keep that up and I’ll cum, babe.”

That’s the plan, dummy.

You snicker to yourself as his hand guides you up and down the entirety of his cock, twisting and squeezing in different positions, each stroke edging Raihan closer and closer to the edge.

“Y/N—Don’t stop. Fuck, please. ‘M gonna cum, baby. Fuck—just like that—” Raihan becomes increasingly vocal as your thumb swirls across the leaking slit of his dick, your free hand pumping the lubricated shaft of the other. “Y/N, fuck—coming!”

And with that final shout, creamy cum coils from the violently red slit of Raihan’s cock. He grits his teeth, body stiffening for a brief moment before he fucks your hand, head falling back as he rides the euphoria.

“You look cute like this,” Comes your sudden murmur, watching his hips buck into your hand before he slowly guides your hand to his own. He laces your fingers and smiles tiredly.

“You think?” he whispers, leaning down to nudge his nose against your temple. “Guess we’ll have to do it more often so you can see that cute expression of mine, huh~?”

Your face flushes ten times over at the comment, curling into his chest and hiding away (despite the uncomfortable stickiness now between you both). He chuckles loudly at your reaction, fingers tracing along your back as he kisses your head.

“So… this means we’re a couple now, yeah?” he asks after a few moments of silence. You’re slow in answering, but when you do, you look with a tired grin and nod. “Good. Because now I’m definitely never letting you go, babe.”

#raihan x reader #pokemon swsh #pkmn sword and shield #raihan #smut #enjoy #nor writes #my posts

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starryviolentine · 3 years

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Camp Paya (A Pre-Apocalypse Story): Chapter 2/?

Part three of the “Pre-Apocalypse Adventures” Series

Chapter 1 (here)

“For the billionth time, I’m sorry,” says Therissa, patting her weepy roommate on the head and giving her the most sincere, apologetic smile she can muster. Unfortunately, nothing she’s doing is having any effect on Brody’s sullen, teary-eyed pout and she turns to Violet for assistance. “V, do something, please?”

But Violet just stands there with her arms crossed. “You made her cry, so you fix it.”

“Brody, come on…”

A nearby counselor with a megaphone calls out that it’s time for the campers to head up to the cabins, so Therissa reluctantly redirects her attention to the rest of her cabin group. “All right, if everyone’s got all of their stuff, let’s get moving.” The teen hoists her own duffel bag over her shoulder and waves at the six tweens to follow her. As they make their way up the dirt path to the girls’ cabins, Therissa finds that she still remembers the layout of the camp and recognizes the buildings they’re passing on the way. “For the newbies, that’s the mess hall, and that shack behind it is the infirmary. Sports stuff to the left.”

The other girls trail a few steps behind Therissa, but Violet keeps Brody company at the very back of the line. She’s more interested in observing her new cabin mates than looking at their surroundings. Becca and Amy have already paired off and are walking side by side, chatting with a level of familiarity that gives her the feeling that they already knew each other before camp. And Violet knows Erin from a few of her classes at Ericson’s, though she’s never really talked to her before. The last girl, who’s sporting a headful of poofy red curls, appears to be the youngest from her short stature and rosy, chubby cheeks. What was her name again? Ruby? Checking out the girl’s fiery hair again, Violet wonders if Ruby’s parents chose that particular name on purpose.

When they reach a three-way fork in the road, Therissa leads them down the path on the very left, and soon they arrive at Cabin Four. Samantha is already there with her half of the cabin members, and she waves at Therissa, who gives her an awkward smile and a nod in return.

“Well, this is it,” Therissa declares, gesturing with an arm towards the front door of their rustic, wooden cabin. “Home sweet home.”

The moment the girls step inside the cabin, Brody’s eyes widen and her whole mood changes in an instant. As she turns in a slow circle, taking a careful look at every inch of the room, her face lights up and she grins widely. “Wow, Vi, bunk beds!”

“Um, we have bunk beds at school, remember?”

“But not in a cabin!” Brody twirls around once more before rushing over to the window and peering outside. “Therissa, look! You can see into the forest!”

Therissa smiles at Brody, thankful that she seems to be back to her normal self again. She sets her bag down on the only single bed in their half of the room and instructs the others to choose their sleeping quarters, as well. “Okay, you guys can pick your own bunks. But I swear, if you start fighting over them, I’m going to choose for you.”

So long as it’s not on the floor, Violet doesn’t really care where she sleeps, but her friend is quick to claim the set of bunk beds directly across from Therissa. Brody is about to start unpacking her things on the bottom bunk, but Violet stops her and asks if she wants to take the top instead. “I always get to sleep on top at school,” she explains.

“Really?” Brody asks, positively beaming. “Thanks!”

After everyone has settled in, Samantha comes into their half of the room through the archway near the front door. Leaning on the wall with her arms loosely folded, she waits for Therissa to notice her before speaking. “You guys ready to head out? Lunch is in ten minutes.”

“Uh, yeah, I think so,” answers Therissa, nearly stumbling over her words, having been caught off guard by the sudden presence of the other teen. Clad in a sporty top and airy running shorts high on her waist and long, dirty blonde hair tied in a tight ponytail at the top of her head, Samantha carries herself with such poise and confidence and it’s clear that she was born for this type of leadership role. The complete opposite of her. Just being in the same room as Samantha is making Therissa feel severely underqualified and very out of place.

It’s embarrassing.

“Great, I’ll get my girls.” With a charismatic smile, Samantha extends a hand while looking directly into her co-leader’s eyes. “Therissa, right?”

“That’s me!” Mouth moving on its own accord, Therissa blurts out the affirmative in an unnaturally chipper voice that sounds nothing like her own. Regretting it immediately, she weakly shakes Samantha’s hand. “You… Samantha?” The pressure to try and make herself look good in front of her co-leader backfires horribly because Therissa momentarily forgets how to speak. She inwardly cringes, wanting to slap herself across the face. Hard. Samantha’s melodic laughter rings through the room and Therissa could just die.

“Yeah. Sam,” she replies, eyes twinkling in amusement. “Me… Sam. Meet you outside?”

Therissa is completely aware of the fact that she just made the biggest fool out of herself, but all she can do now is try and shake it off. Turning to her cabin group, she clears her throat and tries to redeem herself by putting as much authority into her tone as possible. “Okay, everybody up. Leave your stuff. We’re going to the mess hall.”

Other than the gym and the horse stables, the mess hall is the biggest building at camp with a capacity of over two hundred in just the dining area alone. In the back is a spacious kitchen equipped with all the appliances and cooks needed to provide three buffet-style meals and snacks every day, seven days a week, to all of the campers and staff at Camp Paya. By the time Therissa, Sam and the other residents of Cabin Four arrive, there’s already a long line of people out the door. Luckily for the hungry campers, the queue moves relatively quickly and everyone is inside the building within a few minutes.

Violet, standing on the tips of her toes, teeters back and forth as she cranes her neck to try and get a look at what’s on the menu this afternoon. Unable to see over the shoulders of all the taller kids ahead of her, she gives up and squints at the trays of the campers who are already seated at the tables. The saucy, red dish looks like some kind of pasta. “I think there’s spaghetti,” Violet tells Brody, still scanning the tables for other recognizable dishes, “and it smells like there’s garlic bread, too.”

“Yum,” Brody says. “Do you reckon they have meatballs?”

“Save my spot, I’ll go check.”

Stepping out of line, Violet creeps closer to the front, leaning this way and that in order to see behind the constantly moving row of campers picking and grabbing and scooping from the buffet table. Scrunching her nose up in distaste at the sight of the enormous bowl of ranch dressing next to the salad bar, Violet side-steps farther down the line, keeping her eyes peeled for meatballs… and chicken nuggets, while she’s at it.

And there’s good news and bad news.

The good news is that there are definitely meatballs in the spaghetti sauce, so Violet turns around to go and tell Brody.

The bad news is, in her rush to do so, Violet doesn’t pay attention to where she’s going. She walks head first into someone’s path, bumping into their tray and nearly knocking all of their food onto the floor. The apple juice in their glass rocks dangerously, threatening to spill over the edge. Thankfully it doesn’t, and Violet breathes a sigh of relief that they managed to avoid a potential catastrophe. But she’s still utterly embarrassed. She chances a peek up at the person she bumped into, praying that she hasn’t already made an enemy on the very first day of camp.

It’s a girl, maybe around her age... just taller. Glacier blue eyes. Vibrant red hair that reaches down to the middle of her shoulder blades. Violet doesn’t recognize her from any of her classes, nor from seeing her anywhere around school. But then again, she doesn’t know very many of the other kids at Ericson’s to begin with. Resisting the urge to flee, Violet forces herself to mumble a quick apology, hoping it will be enough to remedy the situation.

The girl adjusts her grip on her tray and curiously watches Violet for a moment, but then she gives her a lopsided smile. “No worries.” And just like that, she turns away and disappears down one of the rows of tables.

It takes one plate of pasta, three halves of garlic toast, and forty-five minutes of silly lunchtime chat with Brody for Violet to finally forget about the incident. After everyone has fueled up, the campground tour begins. For the next couple of hours, the cabin leaders bring their groups around the entire camp to get a more detailed look at what sorts of activities are available. With the exception of the few days per week with a special, predetermined schedule, the campers have the freedom to select any activities they want for each of the four time slots on their daily schedules.

They start by the lake and work their way up the path, the counselors naming each of the buildings they pass. Occasionally, the campers are brought inside to view one of the special displays set up within. There are samples of artwork and crafts laid out on tables in the art studio, and a videotape of past performances playing on a boxy television in the middle of the dance studio lobby. In the gym, a few coaches and instructors give demonstrations of the different sports the kids can choose from.

Back outside, the tour resumes, taking everyone past the athletic fields and circling back around to the swimming pool. The campers are brought farther down the path to the garden and stables, where they get to meet and even pet one of the horses. And then, for the last stretch, everyone heads up the path by the climbing wall and the ropes course, where the counselor at the head of the line announces that the final two demonstrations of the day will be held at the archery and rifle ranges just up ahead.

And Violet practically skids to a halt, face growing pale.

While the other campers continue along the path, the blonde stays right where she is, feet planted firmly, unmoving, on the earthy ground beneath her. It only takes a split second for Brody to realize that her friend is no longer by her side, so she backtracks a few steps, raising an eyebrow in confusion. “Archery, Vi. Didn’t you say you wanted to shoot arrows and stuff?”

But Violet doesn’t answer.

“Vi? What’s wrong?”

Despite Brody’s best efforts to figure out why Violet is suddenly refusing to budge, she doesn’t have any success. As the seconds tick by, the two of them fall farther and farther behind, but Brody just can’t get her friend to move or tell her anything. A feeling of panic bubbles up inside her chest at the thought of getting left behind, or lost, or maybe even in trouble for not keeping up with the rest of the group.

So, Brody does the only thing that comes to mind under this kind of pressure.

She yells for help.

#twdg brody #twdg violet #twdg #the walking dead game #brody twdg #violet twdg #camp paya #fanfic #twdg ruby #twdg minerva

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therainroguefanfiction · 4 years

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⚘ Karasuno Alumni (Daichi Sawamura)

Genre: Slice of Life, AU, Fluff, Friendship

Word Count: 3,132

Pairing: Reader x Daichi

World: Haikyuu

Prompt(s): A bought the last piece of [item] that B was about to get. / “I have nothing to lose.” / Tattoo Artist AU

Author’s Note: This was written for the weekly-prompt (08/19/20) over on @hqbookclub ‘s discord server – you should check it out if you haven’t It should be noted that I do not have tattoos and I know nothing about tattooing. I asked a couple different people and watched a couple videos, but it’s hard to understand if you haven’t experienced it yourself so I kinda just wrote what I imagine would take place and how it would feel. So yeah.

━━━━━━༻⚘༺━━━━━━

You didn’t get cravings very often, but when you did, they drove you absolutely batty until you got the object that you suddenly desired so badly. This was especially annoying at midnight when all you wanted to do was sleep but your brain wouldn’t stop craving for some strawberry flake pocky which, not so conveniently, was sold only at the quick mart about twenty minutes away from your house.

With a groan, you forced yourself out of bed, throwing on whatever clothes you could find quickly as you grumbled under your breath about how much you hated your brain and its ability to act like a damn toddler. And nearly thirty minutes later, you found yourself approaching the quick mart, still grumbling under your breath, though, at this point, it was more noises than words.

The glass doors slid open, a burst of cold air hitting the top of your head and causing a shiver to go down your spine. The cashier, a young girl that should probably be in bed and not working at one in the morning, smiled brightly upon your entrance.

“Welcome!”

You nodded at her before heading toward the back of the store where your precious pocky was located. The pocky was lined up at the end of the aisle, appearing in your line of sight as soon as you turned the corner, but the lack of flavors was startling. Normally, the shelf would be packed with the treats, but they had clearly become much more popular than normal. The shelves were nearly empty, offering only a few boxes in varying flavors. Your eyes scanned what was left, praying to whatever deity you could think of that they had the flavor you so desired.

Just as your eyes landed on the strawberry flake pocky, a large hand shot out, fingers curling around the very last box before pulling it from the shelf. Time seemed to move in slow motion as your eyes trained on the box like a hawk, watching as it was placed into the plastic basket being held by the perpetrator.

The man in question was pretty tall, standing probably around five-foot-nine, and his body was well defined with muscles. You could just barely make out the tattoo of a crow in mid-flight peeking out from the collar of his sweater. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think he was attractive with his messy raven hair and dark brown eyes, but the only thing you could focus on was the fact that he had just taken the last feckin’ box of strawberry flake pocky.

He finally noticed your intense stare, turning his dark eyes to meet yours. “It’s not polite to stare, you know,” he teased, the corner of his lips twitching up.

You scowled at him. “It’s also not polite to steal someone’s pocky!”

His brow quirked at that, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I didn’t steal anything. It was on the shelf, free for anyone to take. Maybe you should have been faster.”

In your tired, annoyed state, you didn’t recognize the teasing tone he was using and took it as a challenge. When he tried to step past you, your hand shot up, palm flat against his chest to push him backward. You resolve faltered for just a moment when you felt his toned chest tensing beneath your hand, but you quickly shook the thoughts from your head. “Give me back my pocky, you jerk!”

His eyes darkened, smile turning to a scowl as he grabbed your wrist to remove your hand from his chest. You could feel how strong he was from the amount of restraint he was showing. If he wanted to, he could easily hurt you, but his grip was soft, just enough to hold you back. “Maybe if you asked nicely I would have considered it, but since you’re being so rude, I’m gonna say no. Have a good night.” He released his grip on your wrist and headed for the front of the store.

Your eyes widened a bit at his words and you realized that you were being a complete jerk. Sure, you could use the lack of sleep and your shitty day as an excuse, but it was just that – an excuse. Shaking your head, you bolted toward the front of the store, intent on apologizing to the man, but he was already gone. You could only stand there feeling like a shitty person for being so rude to a man you had never even met before.

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“Y/N!” Tsuko, your childhood best friend, burst into your dorm room without knocking and, since you were in the middle of erasing a failed equation, you ended up jumping and tearing the page.

You groaned, slamming your face onto the desk. Math was bad enough, but now you had to recopy everything because of the torn page and that did not sound like a good time for you. “How many times do I have to tell you to knock, woman?”

“Sorry~” She giggled, not sounding the least bit sorry. “I have the best news!”

You hummed as you tore the page from the notebook, beginning to re-copy the notes on a fresh, clean one. You were not really interested in whatever gossip she had to offer this time because this was a regular occurrence with her and it was mostly about other student’s relationships.

“Okay, so,” she plopped down on the side of your bed. “I met a guy in class today that knows Anne, you know, the exchange student from the states, who is good friends with Ako, that really cute football scholar in his third year, who heard from Carl, the half-Japanese kid that’s weirdly obsessed with tomatoes, who is best friends with Nia, that girl that was featured in Art Monthly in January, who happens to know -”

You slammed your head back on the desk, the notes completely forgotten as her word vomit swirled in your ears. First off, you didn’t know any of those people and you really didn’t care about them or what incredible thing they had passed along to a million different people. It was like one of those chain games you played as a kid – one person says something before passing it on to another and, by the time it got to the end of the line, it was something completely different from what it once was. “Tsuko, please spare me any further pain and just get to the point.”

She rolled her brown eyes, “You’re so dramatic, Y/N. Anywho, let’s get tattoos!”

“Heh?”

“Nia knows a guy that does tattoos at a discounted price for Karasuno alumni!” She clapped her hands excitedly. “I set us up with an appointment tomorrow afternoon!”

“You -” your eye twitched in annoyance as you looked at her, but your gaze softened when you saw how excited she was. She had always been super into tattoos and had dreamed of getting one since she was thirteen-years-old and her mom married a guy that was covered in them. You were happy she was finally getting one, but why did you have to get one, as well? Sure, you thought tattoos were absolutely gorgeous and you could definitely appreciate an attractive man with them, but you had never actually considered getting one yourself. “I don’t know… What would I even get? Aren’t tattoos supposed to have meaning behind them? It’s not really something you just decide on the fly, you know?”

“That’s true,” she agreed, tapping her chin. “But you really loved your time at Karasuno, right? You said it was the best time of your life! So why not commemorate that with a tattoo?”

You frowned. “Getting the name of a high school tattooed on my body sounds super tacky.”

“Not the name!” She clicked her tongue in annoyance before pulling out her phone. After a few taps, she stood up to thrust the device in your face, showing off various drawings and designs of crows. “You can get the school’s mascot – a crow!”

You hummed as you took her phone, scrolling through the various images she had found on google with a simple search. Some of them did look pretty cool and you had loved your time at Karasuno. Sometimes you even found yourself wishing that you were back in high school when things were so much simpler and easier. The more you thought about the idea, the more you liked it.

“So~, what do you say?” Tsuko clapped her hands together, giving you the best puppy dog eyes she could manage.

“Well,” you answered after a moment’s pause. “I guess I have nothing to lose. Sure, let’s do it.”

“Yes!” She threw her arms around your neck, squeezing you against her chest. “You’re the bestest friend in the world, Y/N!”

You slapped her arms frantically, “Then let me breathe!”

“Oh, oops.” With a giggle, she released you, allowing you to take in a large gulp of air.

━━━━━━༻⚘༺━━━━━━

Tsuko parked the car in front of the small tattoo shop nestled between a used bookstore and a fast-food chicken place. This did little to boost your confidence and you grabbed her arm before she could leave the car.

“Are you sure this place is legit? Did you research it? Look up reviews? What’s the -”

“Y/N!” She rolled her eyes. “This place comes highly recommended. Don’t tell me you’re going to chicken out at the last moment.”

“I’m not, I just…”

“Come on, we’re gonna be late for our appointment!”

With a sigh, you climbed out of her car and followed her to the door, glancing up at the bell above the door when it chimed loudly. On either side of the door were metal chairs lined against the class walls. Directly across from the door was an L-shaped desk with a computer on the right and various drawings scattered across its surface. A wall hid the tattooing area, offering a small opening on the left to pass through.

Tsuko stepped up to the counter while you hung back a bit, staying near the door. A moment passed before a tall man with a shaved head appeared in the doorway, covered in head to toe in various tattoo styles, piercings in both ears and on the left side of his bottom lip. He honestly looked terrifying.

His small eyes fell on Tsuko and his face brightened, a streak of red crawling across his face as he practically skipped over to the counter. “Hey, babe! You lookin’ to get a tattoo?”

“We are!” Tsuko chirped, clearly interested in this man even though she had only just met him. “We have an appointment, actually.”

“I gotchu,” he winked, stepping behind the counter to check the computer. “Ah, you two the Karasuno alumni?”

“Yep!”

“Perfect! Come on back and we’ll get to work!”

Tsuko didn’t hesitate to follow him and you sighed, trailing behind as you chewed on your bottom lip. Honestly, you were feeling kind of scared, but you didn’t want your best friend to think bad of you for chickening out, as she called it. How bad could it be, really? You weren’t afraid of needles and your pain tolerance was pretty high, so you were confident that you could make it through. Plus, you’d have a pretty bomb tattoo to show for it.

‘Hopefully,’ you thought as your eyes scanned the framed drawings lining the backroom. ‘These drawings look amazing, but there’s no way to prove that they did these.’

The man led the two of you to one of the plush chairs, motioning with his arms as his eyes stayed trained on your friend. “Have a seat, princess, and I’ll be right with you!”

She giggled in response, falling into the chair with a flushed face.

“As for you,” his eyes fell on you and you swallowed at how darker they got. “Follow me!”

You glanced at your friend, but her eyes were trained on the man’s back, offering you no support as you followed him a few chairs down on the opposite side of the room.

“Have a seat,” he grinned at you before turning toward the back of the room where a lone door sat, cupping his mouth. “Yo, Daichi! You got a customer!”

“Coming!”

You pulled out the folded piece of paper in your pocket that had several printed illustrations of crows in various poses. You had printed it out last night to try and help out the tattooer rather just saying, ‘I want a crow.’

“Hello, my name is Daichi and I’ll be -”

Your eyes met dark ones that widened in time with your own. Standing before you in a tight, black muscle shirt was the man that had taken your pocky the other night. Without any sleeves, you could see the dragon tattoo curling around his left arm, a light pink lotus flower clutched between its claws. On his right bicep was a crow sitting atop a volleyball and, of course, the crow in mid-flight could be seen more clearly on his neck.

Daichi cleared his throat, putting on an obviously forced smile. “I’ll be your tattooist today. What are you looking to get?”

“O-Oh, umm…” You handed him the paper with a shaking hand, unable to look him in the eye. Your face was burning with embarrassment and you were torn on whether or not you should mention what happened that night. You really wanted to apologize, but you weren’t entirely sure how, especially when one wrong word could land you in a world of hurt.

He took the paper, careful not to touch your hand with his as he glanced over the printed designs. “You want a crow?”

“Y-Yeah,” you cleared your throat, shifting in your seat. “I really enjoyed my time at Karasuno, so…”

He smiled down at the paper, settling himself on the rolling stool as he grabbed a sketchbook from beneath the counter. “Is there a specific design you want?”

“Not really. Umm… whatever you think would look nice.” You rubbed the back of your neck, glancing at your friend, but neither her nor the other man were paying either of you any mind.

“How about this?” He held up the sketchbook, showing off a small crow in mid-hop, its eyes trained on a butterfly flying above its head. Small feathers were spread out around it. It was such a simple design, but you fell in love the moment you saw it.

“Yes, that looks amazing!”

“Cool. I’ll be right back.” He stood up, tearing the drawing from the book before returning to the room at the back. When he returned, he was carrying a thin piece of paper that he held gently between his fingers. “Where do you want to get it?”

You glanced at the paper, taking note of its small size. “My upper arm?” You lifted the sleeve of the t-shirt on your left arm, looking up at him for approval.

“Can you take your shirt off, please?”

“W-What?” Your cheeks burned at the sudden request.

“The sleeve might get in the way of the tattoo and ruin it. It’s better if it’s not in the way.” Daichi explained, setting the paper on the table beside the chair before setting up the tools.

Swallowing your nerves, you glanced at him before pulling the shirt over your head, holding it across your chest. He didn’t even spare you a glance as he rolled over to your side, slipping his hands into black gloves before cleaning the area where the tattoo would be placed. The stencil was cold as he carefully smoothed it out across your skin, pressing hard to ensure that the ink transferred. When he was satisfied, he slowly peeled it away, the ink stuck to your skin.

Daichi’s dark eyes met yours as he picked up the ink gun. “Are you ready?” You nodded, taking a deep breath. “Remember to breathe and try not to tense up, it’ll make it hurt worse. If it gets too much or you start to feel lightheaded, let me know and we’ll take a break. I’m going to start now.”

“Okay.” Your eyes followed his movements as he clicked on the gun, lowering the needle to your skin. You sucked in a breath at the strange stinging feeling upon your skin, as if you were getting a shot multiple times. You found yourself focusing on the pain and it was making you feel light-headed – you had to distract yourself. “Hey, I uhh… I’m sorry.”

“Hm?” He didn’t glance away from his work, carefully tracing the lines with the needle. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s just… the other night in the quick mart…” You chewed on your bottom lip as you searched your brain for the proper words, meeting his dark eyes when he paused his ministrations to glance at you. “I want to apologize. I was such a jerk to you even though I didn’t know you and… I’m sorry.”

Daichi hummed, the corners of his lips twitching up as he returned to the tattoo, his tone teasing. “Are you just apologizing so I won’t mess up your tattoo?”

“What? N-No, that’s not -” You paused when he started laughing, bringing the gun away from your skin so he wouldn’t mess up the tattoo. “You’re teasing me.”

“Yup,” his dark eyes sparkled with amusement. “Don’t worry, I’m not so petty that I’d mark up someone’s skin over something like that. To be honest, I had forgotten all about it until I saw you.”

Seeing him so close to you made your heart pick up speed because he was a really gorgeous man and you adored his laugh. You wanted to get to know him more, so you threw caution to the wind, looking up at him through your lashes. “Can I… make it up to you? Maybe I can buy you some lunch or something.”

“That sounds nice,” he smiled warmly, his eyes lighting up.

“Way to go, Daichi!” The other man waggled his eyebrows as he looked at the two of you, a smirk upon his lips. “And you always yell at me for trying to date the clients!”

Daichi scowled over his shoulder, a light shade of pink coming to his cheeks. “Shut it, Tanaka! Focus on your client.”

“Oh trust me, I am~” Tanaka wiggled his brows again, this time at Tsuko who giggled in response.

“We should go on a double date!” She suggested happily, to which Tanaka nodded enthusiastically.

Daichi sighed, giving you a sheepish look. “You up for a double date?”

You glanced at your best friend and her new love interest before giving him a smile. “Something tells me we don’t have a choice.”

“Definitely not,” he laughed.

━━━━━━༻⚘༺━━━━━━

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flutteringphalanges · 4 years

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Summary: It is public knowledge that Zoe Van Helsing is the last of her blood line. Not to mention that, in a sense, Count Dracula is too. However, after an unexpected night of passion, both their lives dramatically change when Zoe becomes pregnant. Two unconventional parents, one extraordinary pregnancy. What could go wrong?

Rating: M

Pairings: Zoe Van Helsing/Dracula implied Agatha/Dracula

Read on FFN and AO3

A/N: Decided to update this really early in the morning. Like, REALLY early in the morning. I’m still half asleep so if this author’s note is wonky, I apologize. Thanks for the support as usual! Feedback is greatly loved and appreciated! -Jen

Chapter Six

Pregnancy, hormones, and dreams-perhaps nightmares if one is so unlucky. Stress plays a major factor. Anxiety weaving itself into the intense sleep waves of one's mind. Such happened to be the case for Zoe Van Helsing as she stood over two empty cribs, the sound of infants wailing all around her and yet, no babies to be found. Panic over-swept her as she desperately searched every corner of the room, the crying only intensifying the longer she looked. And just as she began to feel the very walls start to crumble around her, the scientist's eyes flashed open.

As Zoe slowly sat up, ignoring the pain in her lower back, she wondered if she was still asleep. The wallpaper. The carpet. The furniture. None of it belonged to her. It wasn't until the bedroom door creaked open and a familiar set of dark, brown eyes met hers that the true reality came crashing down like a tsunami. Count Dracula smiled at her, but the expression leaned more towards amusement than to friendliness.

"I was wondering when you were going to wake up." He commented as Zoe scrambled backwards, bumping against the headboard. "I just finished making breakfast-"

"Why am I here?!" The woman snapped, cutting him off. "What...Did we…"

"I assure you there was no sex if that's what you are getting at...which was, in my opinion, much unfortunate." The vampire smirked as he moved over to where she sat. "You wore yourself out last night crying-I suppose human hormones are complicated like that." He sighed, taking a seat on the edge of the mattress. Zoe only slid away further. "Anyway, I thought it best to let you sleep here rather than risk you driving back home all tuckered out."

"If you're expecting a thank you out of me, I'm certainly not going to give you one," she frowned. "That act was nothing more than a scheme on your part."

"Must you always assume the worst intentions, Dr. Van Helsing?" Dracula scoffed, rolling his eyes. "And I wasn't anticipating on one. Now, how about you straighten up and have something to eat? I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess you don't plan on staying around?"

That was a correct assumption on his part. Ignoring his question, the researcher climbed off of the bed. As exhausted as she still felt, the motivation derived from not being here pushed her forward. Zoe felt Dracula's eyes watch her as she strode out of the room. She tried not to look at the hot breakfast he had set out on the table. Eggs. Toast. Bacon. Christ, did it smell good. Maybe if she swiped one strip…

Swallowing hard and shaking her head at the thought, she grabbed her purse and went straight for the exit. The vampire didn't stop her as she left-much to her surprise, and Zoe couldn't help but wonder if the entire neighborhood heard the echoing bang as she slammed the door behind her.

XXX

"I'm not sure how you want to proceed with this further, Dr. Van Helsing, but based on what the Jonathan Harker Foundation was built upon and the current situation, I'm not sure where we stand at this point."

Zoe stared idly at the basket of fruit and muffins that sat in the center of the conference room table. Though they would look positively appetizing in any other situation, right now she wasn't hungry. Far, far from it. Her stomach twisted into knots as Bloxham watched her with keen interest. Part of her had known this moment would be coming from the very beginning and yet, she still didn't feel prepared for it.

"Dracula has yet to cause any sort of known threat," Bloxham continued. "And without any means of interacting with him-studying him, the purpose of this facility has been deemed…"

"No longer necessary," Zoe finished quietly. "So, in other words, you are saying that it's in our best interest to shut down the Harker Foundation." She paused, trying to remain level headed. "And fire everyone involved."

"That's not what I was getting at." Bloxham sighed, folding her hands onto the table. "Look, Zoe, we've been weighing some options and maybe there's a chance to save the place. To keep some of our employees employed." The scientist tried to force a smile onto her face. It wasn't working. "We've been talking to other companies who might be willing to buy the institution. Use it for their own research purposes. They have no idea what we've been doing, but this place...it can be used for good. State of the art practices even."

Mina Murray. The money her family had invested into the Foundation. Created. Everything in the name and memory of her beloved Jonathan Harker. Now no one was left to put up a fight to save it. No family left. No heirs. What remained left to those dedicated to discovering who and what Count Dracula was and is. With him out of the picture, there truly was no Foundation. And it was becoming clear things were beginning to fall apart.

"Dr. Bloxham, we're talking about letting go several dozen people!" The scientist exclaimed, looking around the room at the others who sat silently. "There has to be another way. Think of the Murrays…"

"We've exhausted all options, Zoe," the other woman said solemnly. "I don't like it anymore than you do, but what choice do we have? And the money supporting this place. The Murrays were quite wealthy, yes, but we are looking at eventual bankruptcy. The only reason we've kept going is on the whim that Dracula was still out there. Which he was. But due to legal issues and without him...we have nothing." Bloxham frowned, her lips pursing slightly. "We need to consider selling the lab and the potential that comes from that. This could be what we needed all along."

"But you don't know that!" Zoe countered angrily. "Please, there has to be something we can do." She didn't like to beg. To seem visibly weak. But she thought of Meg. Of Jack. Of all of her other colleagues who might be out of a job. "There has to be some other option."

Options. Suggestions. The scientist's mind was racing. Anxiety building from the pit of her stomach and flowing up, up, up to the inside of her skull. So tight. So much pressure. Zoe massaged her temples trying to ignore the many eyes that were fixated on her. It was always one thing after another. Always. And finally, when a dreaded thought came to mind, she bit the inside of her cheek.

"What if I could…" She began, not even sure if it was in her best interest to continue. "...What if I could convince Count Dracula to come back on his own free will. To allow us to learn more about him without defying his rights by locking him up?" Absentmindedly, a hand rested on her stomach. "Would the Harker Foundation be able to continue as it was?"

The other people in the room exchanged glances, their eyes flickering between each other and Zoe. Surely questions would be aimed in her direction like arrows from a bow. She remained still, poised. If she had to think of a reason, she could do so on her feet. The scientist was creative like that. Even if the situation was a lot more severe than others she'd faced before. If they knew her secret...she didn't want to think about that. Need to think about that.

"You truly believe you can convince the vampire to return?" Bloxham ventured, the tone low. Calculated. "And how, pray tell, do you think you can manage a feat like that?"

"If I can do it," Zoe responded. "Will the Harker Foundation remain in our hands?"

The other woman was silent for a moment. "Maybe arrangements can be made." She looked to the others who all nodded in agreement. "Alright," Bloxham sighed. "Dr. Van Helsing, if you can somehow manage Dracula to return on his own accord, perhaps there is hope for this place."

A small flicker of a smile twitched briefly on Zoe's face. "I can promise you my very best," she stated. "Count Dracula will return." Or so she very much hoped.

XXX

The Count's dark eyebrows narrowed as he studied the pamphlet in his hands. Every so often he'd glance up, meeting Zoe's gaze as she stood in front of him, arms folded. Finally, he delicately folded the flyer closed and held it out towards her.

"Yuma, Arizona…" He said slowly, a small smirk crossing his features. "Planning a vacation are we?"

A second unexpected surprise. When the researcher had randomly showed up at his doorstep without so much as a text, he had been somewhat caught off guard. But now she'd presented him with information about a state. A place not even located on their continent.

"Actually, more so of a move." Zoe replied simply, noticing the amusement on the man's face fade to confusion. "I was doing some research and learned that Yuma is, in fact, the sunniest place on Earth. Sounds quite lovely actually. Not that you'd understand."

"So, you have a sudden desire to move across the world?" Dracula inquired, an eyebrow cocked. "Might I ask why?"

"Well…" She pretended to muse. "There's the weather...an added bonus. But more importantly, and I'm sure your lawyer Mr. Renfield has you all caught up on this, but the Harker Foundation's doors are threatening to close."

"Oh my," Dracula's voice dripped with sarcasm. "What tragic news! I must say it's such a shame really. You all appeared to be working so hard. These things happen I suppose." He interlaced his fingers and gave them a loud, sickening crack. "So you now want to go to Yuma?"

"I'm going to need a job," she shrugged. "And The University of Arizona is currently looking for a medical research professor. I'm sure Dr. Bloxham will write me quite the recommendation letter." Zoe smiled as the corners of Dracula's lips turned just the slightest bit downward. "A change in scenery might do me some good."

"And what's to stop me from following you?" He countered, tone much more serious now. "I'm not afraid to go after you, Zoe. I told you, I will be in my children's lives."

"Oh I know." She answered calmly. "But it'll be just a little more difficult with it always being so sunny." The scientist patted her stomach lovingly. "Did you know sunlight actually has positive effects on pregnancy? Physical and mood wise? You know, the more I think of it, the more Arizona really calls out to me."

"What do you want, Zoe?" Dracula's voice was flat. Irritable. "What are you getting at?"

"The Harker Foundation can't continue without you." Zoe said, momentarily dropping her act. "Without you, we'll be forced to close our doors and open to someone else. A lot of people will lose jobs. People…" she paused. "People I care about. So I'm asking you to come back on your own terms."

"Why would I want to do that?" He scoffed. "So I can be your lab rat?"

"It won't be like that," she promised. "I…" Zoe averted her eyes, not wanting to meet his. "I won't let that happen. And I think you very well know I won't." The researcher inhaled, closing her eyes. "You want to be in their lives. You've shown that. But if that's the case then you…You're going to have to be in mine too." God how she hated the sound of that. "And if even the smallest molecule in you has some care for me, you'd do this. For them. For me."

There was a long pause. Silence heavy between them.

"If I agree to attend whatever it is your beloved Foundation wants, you won't move to Yuma?" Dracula watched her as he spoke, trying to read her face for a reaction. "Your idea of family commitment is quite strange, Dr. Van Helsing."

"We're not a family," she frowned. "We're not...look, think of this as quid pro quo. Just over and over again. Nothing more." Zoe let out a long sigh, running a hand through her hair. "Do we have a deal?"

Dracula pondered her words before nodding. "I think that's reasonable."

For the first time since she arrived, Zoe gave a genuine smile. "So we have a deal."

And a very odd one at that.

#Dracula #Dracula 2020 #Zacula #Zoe Van Helsing #Dracula BBC #Dracula x Zoe #Gemini

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mirkwoodshewolf · 4 years

Text

Ice Queen sister; Peter Parker x twin sis reader

*Author’s note*

OKay so I’m gonna stop messing around and move some more stories that I have on my wattpad account onto here. I promised you all that I would move some more Peter Parker fanfics I had but I was either too busy or lazy to do so, but in light of the quarantine, I’m finally getting off my lazy ass to finally move them to here so that you all could see them. This was written god I wanna say 2 years ago so here are some serious warnings here:

Warnings: murder (Uncle Ben’s death), HINTS OF SEXUAL ASSAULT/RAPE (NO DETAILS BUT MENTIONS OF IT. If it makes you uncomfortable, just be warned but like I said there’s no scene of it being done, just mentioned), violence, and a stab at the police system.

I hope you all enjoy this fic and I promise the next Peter Parker fic I’ve got for you guys will be fluffier than this one.

Taglist:

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@plethora-of-things

@ixchel-9275

@platawnic

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

_______________________________________________________

Spiderman was holding a girl in his arms, unfortunately the girl was bleeding immensely from her side and he refused to let her go even once. But he had an even bigger problem since the criminal before them now held a gun in his hand and aimed it right at Peter's head. How did they get into a situation like this, well that in itself is a long story.

Many of you believe that Peter Parker was an only child right? Well you're wrong, I am his twin sister, his older twin by 12 minutes. My name is (Y/n) Parker and I've always been different from the moment my life turned to darkness or should I say coldness.

I don't know when it first happened, maybe after Peter and I had learned when our parents died in a plane crash but all I remember was feeling so cold that I had to be taken to the hospital and be put in the Intensive care unit for over a week till my body temperature got back to normal before Peter and I went to live with our Aunt May and Uncle Ben.

Then that car-jacker murdered our uncle, and it was then I finally snapped. I remember going to an alleyway, letting out a piercing scream and all of a sudden an icy mist came out of my mouth and froze the entire alleyway. I also took notice that my long (n/h/c) had turned almost pale white, like snow.

Ever since that day, I had changed completely. My heart had become cold that night and I vowed vengeance against my uncle's killer.

From that day on I had called myself the "Ice Queen" and vowed to give the proper punishments for those with hearts as cold as ice. Prison wouldn't change the fact that these criminals would still be breathing while their victims were six feet under, so any cold blooded killers out there, you better pray you don't feel my cold wind at your neck.

To hide any suspicion from my Aunt and brother, I would use my magic to make my hair appear to be the usual (h/c) it's always been but when it comes time for me to "go out", the magic fades and my snow white hair comes out.

Once I became the "Ice Queen", I vowed to never involve May or Pete into it because if any of the crime lords found out I had a weakness in my ice cold heart.....I don't even want to think about what they would do to them. I refuse to lose anyone else in my family.

It was your typical after school day. Pete and I were walking home from school when he had gotten a text on his phone and he said.

"Ahh its Mr. Stark hey (y/n) can you tell May that Mr. Stark wants to see me".

"Of course Pete, just try to be home in time for dinner. I'm making my special Chinese dinner tonight".

"And miss the chance to eat your cooking I don't think so. Thanks (n/n) love you!" He pecked my cheek and he took off running.

Stark. Oh how that name made shivers run down my spine, and I don't mean in the good way. I had known of my twin brother's little secret of him being Spiderman. Oh he can fool May but he can't fool me, I'm his twin and we got a super power of our own and we can tell when the other is hiding something. That and I snooped through his room and happened to find his Spiderman suit (I have a right to do that as big sister it says so in the book).

But still it's no excuse that someone as big as Tony Stark came into our apartment asking for Peter for a "grant" that I knew he never applied for to suddenly go off to Germany and when he comes home, he has a black eye. That is unacceptable in my book, no one hurts my little brother or leads him into danger and gets away with it.

After arriving home, I went into my room and released my magic and my hair turned back into the snow white it had become nine months ago. My room was kept cold due to my powers but I didn't care, I lay on my bed and let out an icy sigh as the ceiling began to frost over.

I then turned to a picture of Tony Stark that I had taken from a newspaper and quickly made an ice shard out of my hand and threw it dead center at Stark's smug face.

"You dare bring my brother into danger, if I see another injury on him I'll make you suffer" I sneered coldly to the picture.

"(Y/n)? Peter? I'm home!" I heard Aunt May's voice ring out. I looked up at the ceiling and made the frost disappear, I also got rid of the ice shard as well as the picture and made my hair turn back to my normal hair color and cried out.

"Hey May!" I left my room and helped her put the groceries away and as I put the milk up she asked me.

"Is Peter with that Tony Stark again?"

"Oh yeah, supposedly Mr. Stark had texted him for another assignment, happened after we got done with school".

"Ahh I see, well can't say I'm a fan of him though. Always taking Peter out of his school time you know I had gotten a call from his principal about him sleeping in class again today".

"You and me both May, you and me both. But he said he'd be home in time for dinner, did you pick up what I needed?"

"Right here, when can you start?" She took out some of the ingredients that I needed.

"Well school was pretty exhausting but I can start cooking within an hour or so, just to allow me some time to rest up and recuperate after a long day".

"Understandable, come on I also have some other things to bring in since I made several errands today, mind helping me?"

"Of course". I followed her to the elevator and I helped her bring in the dry cleaning, some art supplies, and a new sewing kit. After a little rest for about an hour and a half I began preparing my delicious and famous Chinese meal.

By the time 6 o'clock struck, Aunt May and I prepared the food but Peter had yet to show up. As May and I sat down at the table and of course as a run of thumb in her house "No one eats until the whole family is here". I began to get a little antsy about Peter's wellbeing. After that Vulture incident I knew he was getting himself into more dangerous waters that only I knew about and did not want him to be involved in.

By the time it was almost 8pm, May decided that we should just pack it up and not let it go to waste so we cleared up the table and she said that she was going to get us take out while I cleaned the rest of the kitchen. All my hard work gone to waste, Peter promised me he would be here but no Stark once again kept him from being here with his family just so he could go off and put himself in more danger than he's ever had in his whole life.

I then heard the sound of a window opening, I revealed a small ice mirror into my hand and from the small bit of frost I had hidden in Peter's room to judge my suspicion on whether he was Spiderman or not, I saw him coming into his room in his Spider suit. I allowed the mirror to disappear and I tried to keep myself calm as I soon heard called out to Peter.

"Where have you been little brother?" I heard him muttering then he called out.

"I am so, so sorry (n/n) but Mr. Stark kept me in later than I had expected. I really did try to come home in time but you know how he is". I soon heard him walking into the kitchen as I now held the pot that held my Sweet and Sour pork.

"You know you could've called or at least had the decency of sending me a text before bailing out on my dinner".

"I am so sorry (y/n) you have to believe me you of all people need to believe me how hard I tried to come back home. Here why don't I cleanup since you spent hours making the meal". Now I didn't mean for it to happen but my cold, icy heart made me lift up the pot, turn to Peter and slam it right on the table spilling out everything as I growled at him.

"IS THIS ALL A GAME TO YOU!? I was frantic!"

"What are you talking about?" Peter asked with such fear in his eyes. Seeing him afraid of me I tried to calm myself out as my voice whispered and choked out.

"You Pete, alone. In the city at this time of night, I thought—thought someone had hurt you". Soullessly I turned to the table and began to gather up the pork and noodles in my fists as tears filled my eyes and I continued on with a quiver in my voice, "Like our parents.....Like—Uncle Ben".

"(Y/n) I'm fine. I promise I may not be the biggest or the strongest guy in our school, but I know how to outwit someone should they try anything, I promise you won't get a call from the police to ID my body. I refuse to do that to you and May, especially after.....well you know that night". I felt Peter hold me in his arms and I leaned my head against his chest feeling my twin's heartbeat telling me that he was alive and well until I looked up at him.

"Peter what happened to your eye?"

"What oh that umm—it was an accident. As I was getting something from the top of Mr. Stark's shelf, I accidentally slipped and the binder fell onto my eye thus creating this". Liar. I knew he was lying, someone did this to him and I'm going to find out who. Composing myself I stood up and told him.

"I'll get you an ice pack". I got out of his arms and walked towards the cabinet and took out a large bag then hiding behind the open freezer, I used my powers to fill the bag with ice then I grabbed a towel and wrapped the bag in the towel and handed it to Peter and he thanked me but I turned away from him and continued to clean up.

Outside we both heard the sound of police sirens and I stated soullessly out loud.

"This dreadful city we live in. The darker it gets, the more dangerous it becomes, someone outta do something about that don't you think?"

Aunt May had come in and we ate our Chinese takeout then we all decided to turn in for the night. Just as I was turned on my TV, there was a news update about a car chase that about had been going on for the past two hours with a suspect that police had been chasing down for six months but each time they try to catch him, he slips free and avoids capture. Well not this time.

My hair slowly turned white and my usual clothes turned into my Ice Queen armor. A chainmail like ice color dress with small ice sharps coming down from my neck to my lower abdomen. I also made my Ice Queen mask that covered my entire upper face so that no one would be able to see who I was. I levitated in the air and then took off flying with the wind towards the street the guy was last seen.

*Basically this dress but imagine it as an icy blue/white color and the mask is below. I do NOT OWN THE RIGHTS TO THESE PICTURES!! THEY BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS!!*

Police cars and sirens were lighting up the streets and their sirens piercing the Queens streets. The car they were chasing exhilarated as fast as I could until it slammed into the yard of an old abandoned warehouse and soon the driver got out as fast as he could and disappeared into the warehouse.

Inside the man held out his gun ready to fire at anything or anyone that would come out as he held his big sack of money that he had 'obtained' from the bank down on 14th street. Suddenly he heard a clank from behind him.

"Who's there!?" Frost began to form from the windows and being the completely paranoid thief he was, he fired at the window only to see nothing there. Soon he felt a cold nip at the back of his neck and he turned around so quickly he probably gave himself whiplash. "I'm not playing anymore! Come out before I pump you full of lead!"

A small trail of ice slowly crept up behind him then suddenly it shot out freezing his feet to the ground. He let out a cry and tried to fire at the ice but before he could pull the trigger, his gun became so cold he dropped the gun as he cried out in pain from the cold. He looked at his hand to see it was completely broken out and frost bitten from where the gun handle was.

"Metal and steel always attract the cold, didn't you ever watch Titanic and see what the iceberg did?" I then stepped out from the shadows and the guy already terrified. Like all my victims before him he pleaded for his life to be spared.

"You don't understand. I was framed! Just give me a chance. Just give me a chance!"

"You don't deserve that chance. Robbing a bank, suspected for over 20 murders and rapes in the last six months". I then gripped his face tightly in my hand and removed his ski mask and from the police search lights shined right on the guys face and my felt my cold exterior literally crumble to pieces.

This man was the one who killed Uncle Ben. How do I know it was him? Because I was there when it happened.

I was scheduled to meet with a couple of friends at the library for a podcast project for one of my classes, I wanted to walk there but Uncle Ben insist that he drive me there. He felt that it wasn't safe for me walking 7 blocks alone at night. I tried to reason with him that I would be fine but like the father figure he's been to me since our parents died, he didn't budge and I let him drive me to the library.

Just as I was about to get out, this man comes out of nowhere and asks for the car. As stubborn as he was, Uncle Ben refused then the man forced my Uncle out of the car and the two of them began to rumble a bit. I tried to help him but he shoved me off and then he got on top of me pinning me to the car before trying to take off my shirt.

Uncle Ben got him off me but that's when he pulled out a gun and shot Uncle Ben right in the heart. Traumatized from what almost happened and from what I just saw, I could only crawl up to Ben and the car-jacker drove off with my Uncle's car and Ben died right there in my arms. After police and ambulance came and wanted to check on me, that's when I left and went into that alleyway and my powers soon revealed themselves.

As I stared at this man with wide eyes I felt something inside of me just snap. I gripped his throat and allowed my hand to become so unbearably cold, it literally burned his skin. The man cried out in agony as I sneered at him.

"Do you remember what you did 9 months ago at the Public Library? You better remember like your life depended on it you bastard!"

"I don't....please......"

"Don't bullshit me damnit! Why don't you take a closer look at my face"? I then revealed myself under the mask and showed im who I was. I even used my magic to turn my hair brown so that way he'd remember who I was. As soon as he saw me, his face was all I needed to know. "I've been waiting a long time for this!" I sneered as my hair turned back to white and my eyes phased to soulless grey mist color.

I released his feet but kicked him in the ball then I formed an ice bow staff and began to repeatedly beat on the guy as hard as I could. With each blow, I growled louder and more animalistic until I raised the staff high in the air before bringing it down across him sending him to the wall. He coughed out blood and I stated again as I strutted towards him.

"That was just for all that you've done to the people of this city. For all the women you've raped, the people you've killed and the places you've robbed. But what I have for you killing my Uncle, will be slow. Intimately and you will know every ounce of pain you've caused me and my family that night when you pulled the trigger".

"Hate to break this lovefest up but I think the proper judges will give him what he deserves". I looked up to see my twin brother in his Spiderman outfit just chilling above the catwalk of the warehouse.

"This doesn't concern you Spiderman!" I sneered trying to get my brother out of this.

"Sorry to tell you this babe but it is my problem. Cause from where I'm standing if I was a cop and I saw this, I would arrest both of you right here and now. So let me take care of him while you go run and hide. Didn't you know the Accords has been imprisoning any stray super humans lately?"

"Then why aren't you locked up with them?" I sassed at my twin.

"That—that doesn't matter I'm just trying to protect you here!"

"Well so am I now get out of here Pete before I make you leave!" I snapped.

"And I told you—wait, wait a minute. Did you just call me Pete? Only one person calls me.....Oh God (Y/n)?" I sighed deeply and briefly revealed my hair color to show him that it was me. "Wha—how... (N/n) how did....."

"I get these powers? Funny story actually. You remember when mom and dad died and I had to stay in the ICU for over a week? Well it was around that time my powers awakened. But it wasn't until this savage killed our Uncle that my powers truly came out. He's the one who killed Ben Pete and he deserves to be punished!"

"I agree (y/n) but not like this. Let's just take him to the police together and they'll—"

"The cops!?" I let out an icy laugh then I sneered at him. "The court won't do shit brother. They'll just give him a life sentence with no parole or if they do give him the death penalty, he'll be waiting sometime between 10-50 years before then, maybe even then he'll die in his prison cell. Well not this time, not him. This time I'm calling the shots, I've called all the shots on all those other low-lives who have killed people or tried to take advantage over people in the Night". I turned back towards the brute sprawled out beneath me.

"(Y/n) please. You can still change this, you won't have to do this anymore. Look at what this man has already turned you into. This is not who you are, I know you more than anyone else in this world, and do you think I will sit here and watch you destroy yourself. Remember what Uncle Ben always told us when we were kids?"

How could I ever forget the life lessons that Uncle Ben told us? He only told them to us every day ever since Pete and I became teenagers but this one word of wisdom I will never forget. And I bet most of you probably know what that is.

With great Power, comes great Responsibility.

I soon felt Peter's gloved hand take mine and he pleaded to me one last time.

"Please sis, let go of your hatred. Don't let vengeance consume you any longer that it already has. Please, I want my twin sis back". I looked at him and he looked at me. Taking his mask off, I could see the tears forming in his eyes wanting me to let go of my vengeance and take the rightful path and go with him to turn this murderer in and have him be punished the right way.

Suddenly I felt pain in my left side. I let out a gasp as I slowly began to crumble to my knees as Pete caught me in his arms and held me close to him trying to call out to me but everything was beginning to look blurry at least to me. I felt wet on my side and numbness took over me as Peter was calling out to me but I couldn't hear anything.

*3rd POV*

As Peter held his twin who had just been shot by the crook in his arms begging her to hang on he looked up to see the crook holding his gun up aiming right at him.

"So you brats were related to that old geezer with the car huh? Well meet him in hell". Suddenly frosty mist surrounded the warehouse so thick you could barely see the end of your nose. Pete felt his sister rise up from his arms and as the mist began to clear, standing before the two boys was a haunting image of (Y/n) Parker.

Her outer appearance now looked like a haunting lake spirit. She almost glowed a dark black and grey and her eyes were now pure black instead of white. She raised her hand up and the crook was levitated in the air and as (Y/n) spoke in a deep, almost demonic voice, the crook screamed in pure agony.

"You have no power here. William B. Franco. You are meaningless! Pathetic! A morsel! Now burn in the Icy Hell FOR ALL ETERNITY!!!" As William let out one last painful scream, his whole body was now completely covered in frostbite as he had been frozen from the inside out, he then exploded into black ice before a powerful magical light exploded throughout the warehouse and (Y/n) was now back to normal with the gunshot still at her side. She stumbled backwards as she groaned in pain but her twin was there to catch her and hold her in his arms once again.

As he saw the ice bits of the man who had murdered their Uncle scattered everywhere, he was shocked at what he had seen his sister do after just being shot.

"Holy shit (y/n)" Peter mumbled.

"I'd agree with you on that kid, by the way you're welcome for hacking into the police department for taking them away from the warehouse just before your sister went all Dark Ice Queen on the guy. Is she alright?" Peter looked up to see Tony Stark in his Ironman suit.

"I don't know Mr. Stark uhhh Karen read me her vitals!"

'Your sister will live Peter. That sudden Power she just experienced somehow stopped the bleeding but her energy is draining fast, she's got about a ten minute window before the bleeding resumes'.

"Mr. Stark please can you help my sister!?"

"Alright but on one condition".

"Anything name it".

*Time skip to Avenger's Facility 1st POV*

I woke up to see bright lights everywhere and I heard machines beeping softly beside me. To my left I saw Peter out of his Spiderman uniform and back into normal clothes.

"Pete?" I rasped out.

"(Y/n) oh thank god you're alright!" He embraced me tightly which made my groan in pain making him release me and apologize profusely.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"Avengers facility. I had your brother bring you here and our medical team managed to save you before your wound reopened. How you feeling Elsa?"

"Don't call me Elsa!" I sneered icily.

"(Y/n) please I know you never liked Mr. Stark but he saved your life".

"Yeah which means you owe me kid, and I know just how you can pay me back since your brother has agreed along to the terms I have for both of you".

"I swear if I'm stuck bringing you cold ice cream, I will freeze this entire facility" I growled.

"Nope. But I won't deny getting the ice cream was my first proposition but I've come up with something better for yah kid".

*FF a few weeks later*

"So you still coming to the Decathlon meeting next week right?" asked my friend Mikaela.

"Of course just as soon as I get done working at my new Internship".

"You know I had a feeling with Peter taking the Stark Internship that he would eventually come find you, took him long enough didn't it?"

"Yeah well I'll admit that Pete's more of the brains of the bunch. Well see yah Kee-kee".

"See yah (n/n)!" I then got in the limo that was here to pick me up and I was taken on the 2 and a half hr. drive Upstate to the Avengers Facility. Standing outside the facility was none other than Tony Stark and my brother Peter. I got out of the limo and hugged my brother and he said.

"Glad you agreed to this (y/n). Oh man this is gonna be awesome! Spiderman and the Ice Queen working together to become the next Avengers!"

"Don't go getting too far there kid, you're still grounded from that Vulture incident. You're lucky I gave you back the suit when I did, let's just hope your sister here will be better behaved than you". Mr. Stark said as he put his shades on and urged us to follow him inside. "Welcome Miss Parker, to the Avengers Facility".

This was the agreement Tony had for me. Once I was feeling better, instead of turning me over to the government for unleashing my powers to the public and revealing that I was the Ice Queen, he offered me a position in training alongside my brother to become an Avenger's trainee.

Reluctantly I agreed and now here I am. As I walked through the facility and saw everything they had to offer, I began to think maybe this wasn't such a bad idea I mean at least I'm not in a prison cell away from my family for doing what I believe was right for the people.

Plus I think Mr. Stark might have a soft spot for me since I may remind him of a certain soldier who's now a war criminal. But as long as I'm with my brother and I can finally keep an eye on him to make sure he stays out of immense trouble, I'm okay with this.

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kill-for-cookies · 4 years

Note

Possessive, jealous reader with Whittaker!Master finding out and teasing them relentlessly?

I had a really bad week (lots of problems, I needed to some rest), but your request cheered me up

I love jealous reader with all my heart and Whittaker!master... Damn, that's really great couple.

And damn, I need more requests with Whittaker!master. Please send me something.

Sit still, look pretty

---------------------------------------------------

"Why do I need to be there?" you said it irritably, waving your arms and trying to catch up with the Master. How could she walk so fast in heels?

You and the Master were walking down the corridor. Some office corridor. As you understood, she had to meet her partner. You weren't particularly interested in it. You just wanted to go on a trip as soon as possible. To another planet or some historical period. Or at least, stay in the TARDIS. You could read books or watch movies.

"I'm bored with him" the Master sounded like a child. At times, you forgot that even though she was acting like this, she had killed millions and was the most wanted criminal in the Universe.

"I still don't understand what I have to do with it. I don't understand anything about your plans" well, that was absolutely true. No one would argue with it.

"You don't have to. Sit still, look pretty. Why then you have face like this?" you blushed and looked away.

You always liked when she talked to you like that. Taunts, authority and a little flirting. Of course, maybe at the beginning you were annoyed. But apparently, not very much. After all, you got used to it very quickly and even now loved it.

In some way that you didn't know, her taunts might have disarmed you. Completely disarmed. All your irritation disappeared somewhere and your heart melted. Maybe she knew it and often used it.

You followed the Master into a spacious office. Well, it was supposed to be spacious. If it wasn't for lots of big details (for example, the huge heads of some alien animals), then perhaps it could be called like that. In fact, his office was too much. Too pompous and tawdry.

The Master and Sangrur (that was her partner's name, why should aliens have such complicated names?) exchanged pleasantries and started discussing something. You were looking at collection of statuettes that stood on a small table between huge bookcases. Yeah, this man definitely had a style problem.

And you would have continued to do it if the Master, who was standing a little apart from Sangrur's chair, hadn't leaned toward him. She was always close to everyone. To you and enemies. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

But as soon as you noticed it, your jaw closed, hands gripped the arms of the chair you were sitting in and knuckles turned white. You did it automatically, without thinking. You had no idea why it happened. Well, that was what your mind said. But deep down, you knew why.

The Master must have noticed your reaction, out of the corner of her eye, and stared at you. You tried to pretend that everything was all right by giving her a nice smile. Well, actually, your smile was tight and completely unconvincing.

But perhaps, you have achieved your goal. The Master smiled back, looked at you a little more and then went back to work. Although her smile was more like a grin. And her eyes glittered with mischief, as if she was up to something. Maybe you jumped to conclusions...

You tried to distract yourself from unpleasant feelings and thoughts by turning your head to examine some object in this damn office. But you couldn't do it. You still saw that picture in front of your eyes. And it pissed you off.

But something else added fuel to the fire. After that, you could hardly sit quietly and calmly in the chair. The Master stood behind Sangrur, leaning very close to him and whispering almost in his ear. Loud enough for you to hear their conversation.

You were shaking with anger in your chair and wanted to strangle that damn smuggler (after all, you remembered something from their conversation). Or kill him some other way. Your anger was boiling inside of you, ready to spill out like a fountain. You looked like a powder keg with a match held to it.

"It's stuffy in here. Can I go outside?" you should calm down. Fresh air or a nice cup of tea. No matter.

"We're almost done. Hold on a minute" Master's voice was like honey. She was clearly pleased with something. The question was 'what is it?'

If you sat in this office (which you wanted to burn down) any longer, you would lose self-control. Yelling, making a scene or something worse... Your voice of reason, which you barely heard, prayed that the Master would finish her work in the next minute.

And apparently, the Universe was on your side today, because that was what happened. Reluctantly saying goodbye to Sangrur, you were the first to leave (you could say, ran out) of this "torture chamber". A stone had fallen from your shoulders. Breathing and thinking became much easier. You promised yourself that you would never set foot here again.

When you and the Master entered the TARDIS, your thoughts were only of the bed. You didn't do much today, but you were exhausted. So you moved to your room, passing the Master. Suddenly you felt your hand roughly grabbed and the Master pinned you to the console, invading your personal space.

"Wait, where are you going? Did I let you go?" apparently, this was supposed to sound like a reproach, but the Master definitely didn't succeed. Her cheshire smile gave her away.

"I just..." before you could finish the sentence, finger was on your lips.

"No, that's not what I want you to say."

At that moment you were tense. Of course, being pinned to the console caused a concern, but after her phrase you were uncomfortable. And knowing the Master, all this wouldn't end well.

Although she wasn't angry and it should calm you down, but it wasn't. She was pleased and was up to something. And perhaps, it was even worse.

"What is it?"

"Don't play dumb with me. We both know what it is" the Master leaned even closer to you. There were only a couple of inches between your faces. Personal space, what is it?

"I don't know what you're talking about..."

Lie. It was a lie. You understood perfectly well. But admitting it was the same as losing. And you didn't want that at all.

The Master liked you were independent (maybe that was why she kept you around?). Maybe she was called the Master and you traveled with her, but that didn't mean you were dependent on her. So admitting it was like losing this little game.

"Do you? Oh, I remembered I left something in the office, so I'll be right back..."

the Master quickly pulled away from you and apparently, she was about to leave the TARDIS, but you tightly grabbed her hand. You couldn't let her see him again. No way. This wouldn't happen! Not on your watch.

"No" your voice was quiet but firm.

"Excuse me? No?" the Master quickly batted her eyes, as if she was surprised to hear it. Obviously, the Master was pretending. She played with you, with your thoughts and feelings. And she definitely liked it. "Are you jealous?"

"Only in your dreams" you tried to say this as casually as possible, but apparently, you didn't do it very well, because the Master smiled even wider. Or maybe she just knew you too well.

"Well, if so..."

She tried to pull away again, but your hand tightened hers. You immediately remembered everything what was in the office... She would only enter there over your dead body!

But you knew perfectly well if you didn't admit it, it would go on forever. Even if you were able to delay it, she would come up with something else. The Master would remind you this every possible time. Right and wrong time. Torture until you gave up. And who knew it might be even worse? So you decided to say it.

"Fine... Yes, I am jealous" you couldn't meet the Master's eyes and your voice was uncertain.

"I didn't hear you" of course, how could be without taunts? She finally had power over you and wanted to enjoy this moment.

"I am jealous..."

You barely had time to say those three words before her lips covered yours. You were dreaming about this all day. All the time, actually. It was your first kiss with the Master. And who the hell would have thought it would be so good? And considering today...

"Did you think I wouldn't notice?" so that was it... She knew right away you were jealous. Wait... This meant all of this was on purpose... You tried to get mad at her, but the proximity of your faces stopped you. "How couldn't I notice such pure and beautiful anger? You are a work of art" the Master whispered in your face.

You couldn't stop yourself from kissing her. This time you dominated in kiss. There was love, passion and resentment in it (she made you jealous, of course, you would be resentful).

"I'll figure out a way to make you jealous again. Wanting, needing me" you sharply pulled away from her, because the Master would probably do it. You were sure of it.

"Please don't."

You had enough of this once and you didn't want it to ever happen again. If you have to lose some of your freedom, well, that was okay. You were dependent on the Master. A long time ago. You just didn't want to admit it to yourself.

"You think so? Hmm... If you're a good girl, I might change my mind. And you'll be good, won't you?"

You nodded weakly. You knew perfectly well a whole month she would remind you this. Or she would do something else... This was even worse. The Master said she might change her mind. That doesn't mean she would. But at this moment that was enough for you. At least, she had feelings for you. Perhaps it wasn't such a bad day.

#doctor who #whittaker!master #whittaker!master x reader #whittaker!master imagine #request #the master #the master x reader #the master imagine #dw #dw imagine #Reader #reader insert #Jealous #jealousy #doctor who roleswap #doctor who roleswap au #roleswap au #thirteenth doctor

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alistairmoonshine · 4 years

Text

Bard of Surprise

TITLE: Bard of Surprise

AUTHOR/ARTIST: @alistairmoonshine

PROMPT DAY #: Day #7: Destiny

SUMMARY: When Geralt gets the law of surprise thrown at him for rescuing nobility, he refuses to make his way back to that city. No, he would not claim the child that was rightfully his. He just could not do it. That is, things change in a bubbly bard practically falls into his lap.

WORD COUNT (if applicable): 1877

BOOKS/NETFLIX/2002 SHOW/VIDEO GAME: Netflix

TRIGGERS/WARNINGS: None

RATING: G

ADDITIONAL NOTES: @geraskierweek

“The only thing I can give you, witcher is the law of surprise,” the noble man had once said to him. Geralt had taken it only because he really didn’t know what else to do? Geralt had never planned to return to the town and claim his surprise no matter what it was.

Instead, Geralt traveled and stayed far away from Kerack, Redania. No, he would not claim some stupid law of surprise. In Geralt’s mind’s eye, destiny could go fuck itself. Thankfully, destiny never seemed to show up. At least, in Geralt’s mind.

~ ~ ~

A young Julian was taught from a young age he had been promised to a man. An older, white haired man; a witcher. Of course, he was terrified of the tales of the uncaring, cold and emotionless witchers; yet he was also intrigued. Julian sat to work to learn all he could about witchers and what they did.

At 16, he went to Oxenfurt and studied a number of things from history to the musical arts. At 18, he sat out on an adventure. Julian had no idea if this witcher was ever going to show up. Any time there had been a witcher near, he never passed through Kerack. So, Julian took his lute and set out on his way to find his destiny; this witcher.

It wasn’t long before he landed in Posada. There had been tales of a devil and Julian now known as: Jaskier hoped upon hopes that the witcher he wanted would show up. Sure enough, as he was dancing about and singing his eyes fell upon him.

There was no mistaking the man. Geralt of Rivia, the white wolf; the butcher of blaviken. He was tall, and golden eyed with silver hair. He sat in the corner alone with his hood pulled up as he sipped the watered down ale. Jaskier grinned as he belted his last notes and had bread thrown at him.

“Ow oi! Fuck off!” He screamed and sat his lute down as he bent to grab some of the bread. At least he wouldn’t have to pay for a meal! He stood and grabbed a drink from a barmaid’s tray and slowly walked over. Geralt had noticed him but looked away as Jaskier leaned against a piller.

“I love how you just sit in the corner and… brood.” He murmured faintly as Geralt grunted,

“I came to drink alone.”

“Good, yeah good. So, everyone else had no qualms in sharing their feelings about my music… but you. Come on, three words or less… You wouldn’t want to keep a man with… uh bread in his pants waiting?” Jaskier maybe saw a twitch of lips as he plopped down. Geralt stared at him emotionlessly.

“They don’t exist.”

“W-what don’t exist?” Jaskier asked gently,

“The monsters in your song. They don’t exist.” Jaskier snickered at the game. He knew why Geralt knew this but he still decided to question,

“How would you know?” He asked as Geralt tilted his head at him and raised one grey eyebrow. “Oh, wait I know who you are… white hair, golden eyes two… very scary swords. You’re the witcher…” As he said that, Geralt was standing so he followed, “Geralt of Rivia!!” Geralt just grunted and Jaskier laughed happy to have found him, “Called it!” He sing songed.

Geralt had been stopped by a boy and they exchanged a purse before Jaskier was following after Geralt. Not only did he want to feel real life adventures, he wanted to be the man who was supposed to be his destiny. Granted, Geralt had no idea that Jaskier was his destiny. Maybe Jaskier could show him?

~ ~ ~

Somehow, after that first day Geralt actually let Jaskier come along. It was slowly turning from fall to winter and the nights were colder. Jaskier pulled his blanket up and shivered beneath the covers as Geralt stoked the flames a bit higher. Geralt had his back to the bard as he sighed a bit. Jaskier just grunted and huddled deeper in the tent but it didn’t seem to matter. How did Geralt deal with this!?”

“Are you going to quit grumbling?” Geralt asked over his shoulder and Jaskier made another noise,

“I’m freezing! How do you handle the cold?” Jaskier asked curiously and Geralt sighed,

“Witcher’s bodies run hotter than normal. Our heart rates are a lot slower so we don’t feel it. Doesn’t mean we can’t get frostbite or hypothermia just doesn’t happen as often.” Jaskier loved when Geralt actually talked to him. Made him feel like a human and not some stupid kid following an older man around as if he was a puppy.

It had been weeks, and Jaskier just didn’t know how to tell Geralt that he was his child surprise, and surprise he had found Geralt! “Well, lucky you. I unfortunately have a human body and can feel every bitter breeze through this tent!”

“Hmm…” was the reply as Geralt threw another piece of wood on before he was moving into the tent. Geralt got onto his knees and slowly pushed his own sleeping roll closer to Jaskier. Jaskier looked at him curiously as he adjusted it. He then crawled under his blanket and pulled Jaskier against his chest. “Better?” He asked as he rested his head on top of Jaskier’s. Jaskier flushed lightly and nodded as he leaned against the warmth radiating against his back.

“Much,” he murmured happily as he relaxed. “I think I may not freeze and I can finally sleep…”

“Then stop your yammering and sleep,” though the words held no malicious intent behind them and Jaskier just smiled and pressed his bottom even closer to Geralt, not caring that their hips were flush. Jaskier would just have to ignore the rising erection between his legs.

Jaskier just prayed to any god or goddess listening that Geralt did not notice. Geralt let his arms fall around Jaskier’s waist and pressed closer but the strong hands did not travel as he slowly fell asleep; seemingly unaware of Jaskier’s plight of horniness.

~ ~ ~

It had been a few years since they started to travel together. Jaskier still hadn’t figured out how to tell the other that he was his “child of surprise” even if he was an adult now. Geralt seemed oblivious to the fact that destiny was following him and sharing his bedroll. Even if that bedroll was only to cuddle and nothing more.

It caused Jaskier to sleep with as many men and women as he possibly could when they stayed in towns and inns. He had to get that sexy unmoving man out of his mind for good! Still, it never helped.

They had just gotten off of a case over a nest of ghouls off the edge of Redania. So close to Jaskier’s home town… “Geralt? Why don’t we go to Kerack? I know some good places to stay…” He started,

“No,” came the reply with a growl, “No Kerack. I will not go there.”

“But why?” Jaskier pressed forward and on as he followed behind Geralt and Roach. “Look, I can get us some fine lodgings at Oxenfurt no pay! A comfortable bed some nice new clothes maybe a bath?” He pushed,

“No!” Geralt snarled, “I will not.” He said as he kicked Roach to go faster so Jaskier had to practically run to keep up. He huffed as he sped up his pace.

“You have yet to tell me why! Free food, lodgings, and baths. What more could you ask for? Possibly a pretty little woman on your arm hmm?”

“Because, I am not going back to claim… I just can’t.” He said softly as he made a face,

“Claim what?” Jaskier asked again and Geralt glared at him and stopped Roach in her spot. Roach danced a bit but settled as he held tight to the reigns.

“I...I have a child of surprise. Though, I don’t think they are a child much anymore. It was so many years ago,” he murmured and made a face. “I saved a noble man from being taken down by a wild boar. He gave me the law of surprise because he had no payment. I told him it really wasn’t an issue but he insisted… I found out a year or two later they had a child.” He said softly, “A child he did not know his wife was pregnant with.” He made a face as Jaskier watched curiously through blue eyes.

“My life is no life for a child or some fluffy nobleman or woman,” he said softly, “everyday could be death or worse… I can’t subject anyone to this.” Jaskier nodded faintly and looked at his feet as he kicked up dirt slowly,

“W-what if… What if that child of surprise found you?” He asked and Geralt laughed loudly and looked down at Jaskier to see he was serious. The younger man stared hard at Geralt. “Geralt, I AM your child surprise,” he murmured softly,

“Julian Alfred Pankratz… My father was the viscount you saved that day 22 years ago.” He commented and flushed, “they told me since I was a child you would soon oneday come and take me away. That I was rightfully yours under the law of surprise and yet you never came. I heard tales of the great Geralt of Rivia, the White Wolf! You just always passed by Kerack, never through. Finally, when I turned 18 I left Oxenfurt and said I would find you myself. I was only on the road a few months when you showed up in the inn in Posada…”

Geralt was silent as he slowly climbed down from the mare and stood in front of Jaskier as he babbled. Geralt raised a fist and threw a punch, hitting Jaskier into the stomach as he did their first meeting. Jaskier coughed loudly and fell to his knees with a cry,

“You are a fucking idiot!” Geralt snarled, “coming to find me!? Following me for years!? Not telling me you… you are the child of surprise!” He turned away as Jaskier held his stomach, “you could have been hurt, killed, worse tortured! I never wanted a damned child surprise and I sure as fuck don’t want you,”

“Geralt…” Jaskier wheezed out as he reached for the other’s pant’s leg, “please, you don’t mean that!” He felt his chest tighten but not from the punch to his gut as he started to feel panic, “please don’t leave me. Please,” he begged. “I need you, I… I love you,” he murmured gently. Geralt felt his own heartbeat quicken and his head thrum as he turned to look at Jaskier sitting on the ground; holding his stomach.

He had never had anyone tell him they loved him and now here was his child of surprise telling him that he loved him. Geralt loved Jaskier to, but he just didn’t know how to show it. He sighed and bent to help Jaskier up before pulling Jaskier into a tight hug as he buried his face into his neck.

“I… I think I love you to,” Geralt replied as Jaskier smiled into the hug and relaxed.

“Destiny brought us together. Destiny will keep us together, Geralt. I promise you that.”

#Geraskier week #Geraskier #Geralt/Jaskier #jaskier is the child surprise #jaskier #geralt #netflix witcher #witcher

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wifeofkimtaehyungofbts · 4 years

Text

Chapter 7

>> Pairing: Taehyung x Y/N, Taehyung x reader

>> Words: 1299

>> Notes: I’m going to upload a new chapter whenever possible until I feel like I have built up enough thrill to leave my readers curious and desperately wanting more 😉 You may leave asks and let me know what you think of my writing (:

Synopsis: You run into a rather strange man one night. He seems terrified, as if fighting battles only he can see. He seems detached from the world, talking only to a voice inside his head. Oh, another strange fact: he keeps talking about angels. You discover later that you were the angel he was praying to.

>> Previous / Next

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I stood in the mirror, taking in my reflection.

I looked like the inside of my head. A mess.

I reach over and turn on the tap, cold water blasting on my hand. My wounds tear open for the pressure, but I feel no pain. I have become so used to the feeling of pain, internal pain, that I hardly feel pain on the skin. I wash my hands slowly.

I proceed to take off my shirt. This was the shirt I was wearing on the day of the murder. It’s been a week or so since that terrible day. I had lost track of time while running away. I took off my denim pants and balled them up before dumping them in what looked like the bin of dirty laundry. I stepped into the shower and turned on the water. The water hitting my face reminded me of the rain that day; hard and cold, as if the skies had been heavy with worry and needed to relieve.

I let my hair and body soak. I reach out for the shampoo on the bathroom counter. I read the label; FRUITGEA. I pop the lid open and sniff. Nothing. I smell nothing. It’s been 3 days since I haven’t been able to smell anything. Either I lost my sense of smell for good or this is temporary. Either way, it didn’t sadden me because it was nothing compared to all the other things I’ve lost.

Jimin-ah.

That’s when I break down. I grab my hair and just stand in the shower, crying but my cries drowned by the sound of water, just like that day.

*****

I walk out of the bathroom quietly. I have learnt the art of moving without making a sound with time because it was a skill necessary for my survival. To not be caught.

By whom?

I don’t know...

The voices in my head have started yet another discussion. My shoulders drop and I stand at the bathroom door, contemplating whether to grab the razor on the bathroom counter and slit my wrist. But then again, I don’t want the girl who rescued me to get in trouble.

The girl.

I look up and see her in the kitchen, running here and there, fetching pans and pots, stirring this and cutting that. She disappears further into the kitchen. “I don’t live with a man so I don’t have any men’s clothing. But I have a shirt or two that are super big and a new pair of track bottoms. I left it on the bed for you” she says without looking at me.

I turn and walk over to her bedroom. I notice the two small beds and assume the one where the clothes were laid out was her bed. The bedroom only had the 2 beds, a dresser table and 2 cupboards. I dress up quickly and walk to the kitchen. I hide in the door way, not knowing exactly why I was doing it. Fears from my past were making me paranoid.

She notices me and smiles brightly. “Come on in here! The soup is almost ready!”

Soup?

She seems to have read my mind. “I prepared some chicken and vegetable soup for you so you can gain some energy”

My heart warms at her words. I don’t know what she is up to, but I suddenly feel a warm pull towards her.

I take my seat at a high stool and watch her as she grabs plates and spoons and sets them before me. She sits across from me. “Taste it!” she says excitedly. I stare at the soup before me. It was warm and seemed like it smelt good. I grabbed my spoon and took a sip. The taste awakens my taste buds.

“How is it??” she asks excitedly.

I simply smile and nod and continue eating. She takes it as a sign of positive feedback and begins eating her own soup. We eat in silence, our spoons hitting the plates the only sound. “What’s your name?” she asks me, breaking the silence.

I did not want to answer. I was afraid. Afraid she’d report me as a missing person to the authorities and they’d set out to find my home and send me back. Afraid when I go back, they’ll kill me. Afraid of what she’ll do about me if she knew my story. I did not trust her nor anyone... not with my story or my name. When I continue to eat with my head down, she continues eating and doesn’t press me for any further information.

When we finish eating, she takes my plate and spoon and washes it along with hers. I watch her silently. She is petite, barely reaching 3 inches over 5 feet. She has changed her look from what I saw when I first woke up in here. Her dark hair is now tied back in a bun and she wore a black long, extra-large tee that reached her knees and yellow track bottoms underneath it.

She finishes with the dishes and turns around, wiping her hands. “You can rest on the couch. I’ll get you pillows and blankets”

My heart feels warm again. I get off the kitchen stool and walk over to where I assume is their living room. There was a TV and a single couch. A coffee table was placed between the TV and couch. She quickly hurried in, her hands full of blankets and pillows. A soft smile played on my lips as I took in her form struggling to not trip while carrying the load that was too much for her small body. Cute.

We arrange the couch as I slide underneath the blanket. I turn away from the TV and close my eyes. After a few seconds, I hear her falling onto her bed. I turn to face the ceiling. This place... in all its unfamiliarity still feels more home than my own house. I remember when we were kids, my older brother and I writing letters to Santa about the presents we wanted. My brother peeped into my letter and I got so annoyed. I tried to push him off the chair but he didn’t even budge at my push. “If you don’t buff up, you won’t be able to endure the winds in fall” he sneers pointing at my skinny arms. I pout in annoyance and continue writing my letter. That night, my brother and I walk over to our special tree and hang our letters. “So, tell me, what did you ask for?” my brother asks. I did not want to tell him, or anyone else for that matter, because they wouldn’t understand how badly I needed what I asked for. They’d say I was being oblivious and innocent for a 9-year-old. My 13-year-old brother throws an arm over my shoulder as we make our way back home. I squirm trying to escape his touch. He laughs and holds me tight. Although I continue to struggle for escape, I inhale his scent and blush under the warmth of his brotherly hold. We went back home to the death of our mother, the only other human in the house besides us. The monster stood tall over her lifeless body, a bloody brick held in his hand. He swayed from side to side and his poisonous stench filled the room. He walked to the kitchen and poured himself another glass of poison. The next thing I knew, my brother was howling, an animalistic sound erupting from somewhere deep in his throat as my mother’s glassy eyes continued to stare at me.

My eyes fill with tears and I throw an arm over my face as I quietly sob, afraid to alert Daffodil of my crying.

#kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #kim taehyung x reader #bts #BTS v #bts v x reader #bangtan sonyeondan #y/n #taehyung x y/n #Angels

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youralternantpersonality · 4 years

Text

Endless Love

Paul x Reader: Endless love

Part 1: Eternal Love

Part 2: Everlasting Love

Part 3: Endless Love

Part 4: Enduring Love

***

Your POV

The sun came up and it was slightly warm again. I looked around for Snout but couldn’t find him. I get up tirelessly from the ground only to see a figure of a woman in front of me. She is blurry but shaped like a shadow. She was slender and small with an authority like stance. And without a second thought, I ran.

I looked behind me and I saw her just standing there. Looking in my direction. Whoever it was, or whatever it was, wasn’t going to leave. That I was for sure aware of.

Paul’s POV

We pull up to this small cottage in the middle of nowhere (shocking!) and watched as some of the Cullen’s friends step out of the house. My inner wolf is just dying to come out at this point. The Cullen’s, I can handle, but these people…unknown leeches…that’s a different story. Carlisle does his grand gesture and greeting, and we all move inside.

“Come, young Paul, I will show you where she is at. I know the last place you want to be at is here with us.” One of the blondes said. I followed her down a long hallway into a guest bedroom. From the door, I could see her, tubes tied, and machines keeping her alive. Blondie tells me she’ll be outside if I need anything.

I just watch her from the door. Tears forming in my eyes as I watch her from across the room. I somehow find myself walking towards her, ignoring the chair next to her bed and lay down next to her. making sure I move all the tubes around so that I don’t hurt her. Her body isn’t as warm as it used to be. As if she was barely hanging on. As if she was ready to let go. As if she was showing me what she’d feel like when she’s turned. Could I be ready for that?

Your POV

It started raining not too long ago. I ran around looking for protection until I came upon a cave. I had been sitting in here for a while, watching the rainfall endlessly outside. Trying to keep warm, I curl into a ball and try to lock in warmth. Not too long afterward, a rush of heat consumes me, and I do nothing but relax into it.

Not paying attention anymore, I don’t realize that at the entryway of the cave is the woman and Snout. He barks and it echoes through the cave. I turn to look, and I see them. She points at me and Snouts comes running my way. To frightened to move, and too cold to scream, I wait for my ending. But instead, Snout comes up to me and licks my face with his tail wagging and his barking throughout the cave. It’s not until I notice the lady at the cave is now sitting in front of me.

In an instant flash, the cave brightens up and I see her face. She was beautiful. I’ve seen her somewhere, but I can’t remember where. She looks like someone I know, but I keep coming up blank. She smiles at me and starts talking.

“He was right. You are beautiful. It’s ashamed I never got to meet you.” The lady smiles. I look at her confused and respond.

“Who’s he? And what do you mean? Do I know you?” I ask, confused as can be. She shakes her head and smiles.

“No, but I know plentiful of you and have been watching you for a while now. I see you’ve taken great care of my son. I just wanted to say thank you.” She smiles. I take a good look at her. She has clear and bright honey-olive skin with beautiful brown eyes. Her long black hair extenuates the glow around her skin and her smile just brightens the room. There was a calming and motherly feel around her.

“Your son? Who’s your son?” I look at her confused. Her head falls slightly, and the corner of her lips turn downward.

“It’s okay that you don’t remember him. You will eventually. Just remember one thing,” she pauses to look at me and I nod my head.

“Promise me, you’ll at least listen to him. Allow him to speak and to forgive him. It might be hard, lord knows he gets himself into some situations with you, but all I ask is for you to give him one more chance.” She looked at me with pleading eyes. I can’t help but nod at her, not knowing what I was getting myself into.

“Another thing…you’ll be given two choices soon. Make sure you choose the right one. Your life depends on it.” she then reaches over to me and hugs me, kisses my forehead, then walks to the edge of the cave. She looks back and smiles at me before disappearing. I look down at a sleeping Snout curled up to me. I am comfortably warm and decide to join him. I curl next to him and fall asleep too.

Paul’s POV

There’s a knock at the door and I turn to see the Good Doctor Cullen. Letting me know it is time and ask me if I’m 100 percent sure of this. I nod my head and go to sit in the chair next to her and hold her hand. It is only us two, Edward and Carlisle in the room. I watch as the Good Doctor take out eight syringes’—three of them look like clear water and the other five are filled with this silver thick liquid stuff.

“What the fuck is that?” I say looking at this shit. Carlisle chuckles and explains the clear stuff is morphine and the other ones are their venom.

“I always thought you guy’s venom would be, I don’t know, green, or black, or something. Not something like a kids art project where you put a crap tone of glue and add silver glitter and paint mix to it.”

“Are you saying our venom is pretty?” One of the blondes says from behind us. I let out a growl to warn her.

“Okay, okay, I’ll back away. I’ll see you guys in a few.”

“Thank you, Kate. Garrett should be here soon.” I hear the door shut and the front door to the house open and close. Good, we’re alone.

“So how is this going to work? You’re going to put her more to sleep and then put the venom in?”

“Essentially, yes. I don’t want to overdose her, but I want to numb her as much as possible with the morphine so she doesn’t feel nearly as much as she would.” Carlisle said.

“And we also don’t want you freaking out if she starts screaming in pain.” Edward finishes.

“Wait, screaming? In pain?! I thought it would be a little pinch or something. But screaming!?” I start freaking out a little. How bad is this transformation supposed to be?

“The venom reconstructs the bones, organs, tissues, cells, all of it. The body is calcifying itself to stone, which is a painful process even if she wasn’t dying.” I look at both of them in disbelief.

“Are you sure you want to-“ I cut him off,

“Yes. Just…make her as comfortable as possible. I can’t lose her…” I said looking down at her. This may be a selfish thing to do, but its either both of us, or none on earth. Carlisle nods and grab one of the morphine needles and stick it into her IV tube. After a few minutes, her smell heightens a little. Not sure if that’s good or bad.

“The morphine is settling in her.” Edward nods towards Carlisle and grabs the other one and injects it into her IV tube. All I can do is sit there, helplessly, watching her fight. I say a silent prayer to whoever wants to listen to protect her and bring her back. I wonder when she comes back, will she hate me? Resent me? Remember me? Forgive me? Would she love me again? Will I love her?

That last thought scared me. I looked at Edward and Carlisle then think back on everything about their type that irks me and wonder, will my views change just for her or because of her? Will I feel like that to her the way I feel about leeches in general? Or will she be the only one in my heart? I ask all these unanswered questions until one comment stops me.

“Are you ready Paul?” without looking up, I nod my head and allowed the Good Doctor to inject his venom into my love’s veins. ‘Till death do us part.

Your POV

The warmth that consumed me left, but in its place came a rush of drowsiness. I was disoriented and confused. I felt like I was plastered drunk. I didn’t know what was going on, but I couldn’t get up or move without struggling. Every time I tried to move, it’d get worse and worse and I begged it to stop. I wanted, for once, to touch the rain. Maybe it would help the dizziness. But right before I could reach it, it stopped raining. It was sunny instantly and the sun was making it warmer and warmer by the second.

I wanted to stay in the cave, but it was hotter in there than it was outside. I looked around for Snout, but I couldn’t find him again. I was walking from tree to tree, holding on in this heat. I need to get out of the forest before a fire starts. I tried running, but nothing happened. I just fell and screamed against the steaming hot ground. I grabbed onto the equally hot trees and just kept moving. I prayed to whoever is listening, to get me out of this heat before I die. I try to think happy thoughts, thoughts of my friends. Yes! My friends! I remember them! My friends and Snout when he was a puppy. I remember some of my family, but not really. Then I remember someone else. I don’t know who he is, but I know him. And I feel…I feel…hurt? Anger? Happy? I was so caught up in him that I didn’t notice a tree was falling in front of me.

“Ahh!” I scream and tried my best to run, but to no avail, I can’t. I cry more as it gets hotter and hotter as I go. Wishing for it to all stop.

Narrator POV

“I heard her,” Edward said.

“What?” Paul and Carlisle looked at him. Carlisle was injecting the second syringe in when he said it.

“I heard her. This whole time, I haven’t been able to, but now…now I can. I just heard her.”

“What did you see? What is she dreaming of? Is she dreaming?” Paul asked anxiously.

“It was a small glimpse; I just saw her grabbing on a tree, and she screamed. Then her mind shut off again. Something must’ve scared her. I’m not sure what, but something caught her off guard enough to let me see her.” Edward said with slight pride.

“The venom must be working then. She still has a long way to go Paul. But if Edward can read her, that’s a lot of progress.” Carlisle goes around the bed and places a hand on Paul’s shoulder.

“Trust me, she will be okay, as long as Edward can read her.” He goes back to what he was doing by grabbing the third syringe and injecting it into her major artery in her inner thigh. Making sure to inject her in different areas to assure her body takes the venom.

Paul grabs Y/n hand and gently strokes in, occasionally kisses it, but bows his head on it as Carlisle finished the last one. They go to leave and plan on checking her every hour or so. Paul would never admit this out loud—and not when Edwards is in the proximity of him—but he’s grateful for them. Now, is all about playing the waiting game for the next three days.

My Love (for the series)

MasterList

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