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maseshine · 3 years

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Oii! Você poderia fazer a fic da música "You Belong With Me" com o Ben? :)

Right for you, Ben Chilwell

Prompt: You being his best friend and at karaoke singing "You Belong With Me" to him indirectly.

Warning: Disappointment, Sadness

Words: 1811

Notes: I was really excited to write this one. It's one of my favorite prompts and I already had it written, I don't know if that's how you imagined it, but I hope you like it a lot because I loved it so much🤍

Author's Note: I know a lot of people write with the use of quotes, but I'm used to using the dash, so I hope it's not a problem.

Being in love with your best friend is one of life's biggest clichés. And sometimes it really hurt to see him and his "perfect girlfriend".

You sure as hell wouldn't have gone to karaoke if you knew she'd be there too. Ben was perceptive in hiding it from you. Really insightful.

You tried to keep your attention on Mason's out-of-tune presentation, but his eyes always seemed to betray you when they landed on the couple sitting across from you.

━ If you keep looking at them like that they'll think you're a maniac. ━ Christian said giving his shoulder a little push.

━ I don't know what you're talking about. ━ You changed the conversation.

━ And Mason can sing well. ━ The brunette joked. ━ We already know of his crush on Chilly, only he doesn't seem to notice it.

━ Or he knows and just doesn't talk about it because he doesn't feel the same way about me. ━ His voice came out dismayed, and Christian looked at her sympathetically.

━ If he doesn't notice, maybe he's not right for you, Y/N.

You didn't say anything else, Christian's words running through your head. Maybe he was right. She and Ben had been best friends for years, but maybe they couldn't be more than that.

━ Our next singer is Y/N Y/L/N. ━ You looked at the stage with surprise, you didn't put her name in the performance list.

His eyes fell on Mason who smiled innocently. Motherfucker. The boys made noise encouraging you to go on stage. You took a deep breath before getting up from the table.

Your hands shook a little as you took the presenter's microphone. His eyes scanned the available songs, stopping at one that fit his situation perfectly. His ears picked up the beginning of the melody.

You're on the phone with your girlfriend, she's upset

She's going off about something that you said

'Cause she doesn't get your mood like I do

━ Babe... baby! Come on, please calm down and listen to me! ━ You heard Ben plead in the next room, your phone pressed firmly to his ear as he tried to reason with his current girlfriend. All you knew was that he had shown his sincere side - apparently, not everyone knew he didn't have a filter.

But you knew the athlete more than anyone else, and he might need to stop and pull himself together occasionally, but it all came from his heart.

You were brought back to reality when you heard Ben grunt, dropping the phone against the table and running a hand through his hair. You looked at him with sad eyes, reaching out and placing your hand over his so gently.

━ Want to talk about it, Chill? ━ You asked him, watching as the corner of his lips twitched into a small smile with the nickname you gave him.

━ I don't believe you can save me from this situation, Y/N. ━ Ben manages to say, clearing his throat to help transition into a new conversation.

You didn't want to push it any further - knowing that if Ben was comfortable enough, he would talk to you. Hell, he told you everything. Maybe it was because the two of you grew up together, so he had to hit puberty much faster.

Ben got undeniably hot fast, all the girls at his old high school noticed that. You were about to ask him if he'd like to watch a movie, but his ringing phone interrupted, making you keep your mouth shut for now.

Ben suddenly straightened before grabbing the screen, a hopeful look flashing in his eyes as his girlfriend's name was projected in capital letters and a series of heart emojis. You rolled your eyes with a small smile and gestured for him to take the call, swallowing your pride seconds after he left the room. You left the house not long afterward, knowing you probably won't see your childhood friend for at least another week.

Walk in the streets with you and your worn-out jeans

I can't help thinking this is how it ought to be

Laughing on a park bench thinking to myself

Hey, isn't this easy?

You kicked a few pebbles off the path as you walked, with Ben by your side. It felt strange for the two of you to be together – but a strangely comfortable stranger, as if life was supposed to be like that.

He was trying to chat a little about the weather, which quickly turned into a funny story of how he fell face first in the rain during last Friday's football game.

Her eyes were mesmerized by him as he threw his head back in laughter, his hands maneuvering in strange ways as he portrayed how the event actually happened. You returned his laugh as you placed your hand on his bicep to steady yourself, little snorts following after.

━ I can't believe you still do that. ━ Ben said, his hand briefly resting on top of hers to hold her against him. You raised your eyebrows in sync with the corners of your mouth, your laugh dwindling to a small laugh.

━ Do what? You'll have to elaborate, Chilly. ━ With his free hand, Ben lightly tapped the tip of his nose while smiling at his nonchalance.

━ That cute snort you make when you laugh too much. I hadn't heard this since we saw Madders get stuck in the invisible wall of tape.

The memory provoked her to put her hand to her forehead as she chuckled her iconic laugh once more, remembering poor James' shocked expression as he recovered from the seemingly transparent 'door' and the few seconds that followed where he was frozen trying to understand what had just happened.

━ This is definitely the sound of joy. ━ Ben said as he looked at you, just for you to poke him playfully.

Oh, I remember you driving to my house

In the middle of the night

I'm the one who makes you laugh

When you know you're about to cry

The end of the week approached faster than expected, especially since you spent most of your time pretending you didn't get Ben's text messages.

You needed time to pull yourself together and organize your priorities, and having him suddenly want you back in his life was an unexpected twist. You've always had a stupid crush on Ben, but unlike the vast majority of girls who did, yours started when you were both young ━ when you had just gotten rid of the braces, and he had already started playing for a football team for the first time.

It was Friday night, and you had just curled up under the sheets, trying to get comfortable as an oncoming storm began to form outside. Your phone was constantly indicating that you had a new message, but it was just Ben asking if you were going to the football game tonight. Like the other messages, you ignored it and continued your favorite show on Netflix.

It was midnight when your phone woke you, realizing that you must have accidentally fallen asleep. You could barely hear the phone ring due to the weight of the rain outside, but you answered anyway, surprised to hear a familiar, desperate voice on the other end of the line.

━ Y/N… I'm down here… me, something happened. I didn't know where to go... I just drove, and I ended up here... something in me, I needed to see you. Let me in, please.

He looked distressed, perhaps because he was crying. You went down to the front door and opened it carefully, suddenly coming face to face with a saturated Ben Chilwell. You reached out and dragged him inside, your eyes scanning his wet, shivering body.

━ Ben... you're freezing, you're going to get sick. ━ You exclaimed as softly as you could, not letting go of his hand, as you led him to your room.

You gestured for him to stay put before grabbing a clean towel from the bathroom, running back and closing the door before wrapping it around your shoulders. You sat on the edge of the bed as he stood in front of you, seeming to have something to say, but couldn't think of how to start the conversation.

━ Why are you here? ━ You finally said after a long period of silence, Ben's eyes strayed to the ground. He cleared his throat a few times before realizing he was just whispering.

━ I saw Charlie with one of the Aston Villa players. She was on top of him. I... I asked her what the hell was going on, she basically said I wasn't good enough. Do you believe that? ━ He said exasperated, his hands pulling at her wet hair as it stuck to her forehead.

You closed your eyes for a moment as you took in this information, able to feel Ben's pain from where she sat. But it wasn't a new pain, it was like it was the kind that was finally released after being repressed for too long. As if it knew it was coming and would hold out until the dreaded day.

You pursed your lips and rose from the bed, standing right in front of him before taking his wrists and pulling them down between the two of you, your thumbs gently stroking the skin of his knuckles.

━ But why are you here? At home? You could have gone to Mase or called Madders. ━ You muttered, hoping his tone of voice would calm you down.

Those eyes you fell in love with as a teenager were looking at you, taking in your details, your passion, your heart. They were kind, just like you always knew he was.

━ Something attracted me to you, as if I was destined to be here. Do you know? ━��He spoke so low you could barely hear him, but you could hear him clearly.

Were you obsessing over him by running out of words, confused as to what he was trying to say – was it a confession of love or some pity plea because you were the only one who cared? You nodded your head to understand what he was saying, feeling your own radiance toward him for a long time.

A week later, he had returned to his girlfriend.

Standing by and waiting at your backdoor

All this time, how could you not know, baby?

You belong with me

His eyes traveled to the table where all his friends were sitting, everyone paying attention to his presentation. Except Ben and his girlfriend. A pang of pain whistled through her heart. At Christian's words coming back to her mind.

If he doesn't notice, maybe he's not right for you Y/N.

Have you ever thought just maybe

You belong with me

Maybe Ben didn't belong to you. Not how you wanted it.

#ben chilwell #chelsea fc #christian pulisic #football #football imagine #imagine #mason mount #ben chilwell x reader #you belong with me #angst #kai havertz #chelsea #london #music #timo werner #premier league

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marahuyos · 3 years

Text

anon asked: Could I request the reader being childe’s younger sister/sibling but she’s the second youngest so in her earlier teenage years and maybe sneaks out one night doing something dangerous like fighting a bunch of ruin guards with friends or something like that

*:･ﾟ✧ takes place during childe’s story quest!

f!reader

platonic relationship!

tw: none

You tugged your sibling closer, not wanting to let him go as you explored this part of Liyue. The greenery was a completely foreign site to you, the warmth of the sun almost weirding you out because you weren’t used to have a sun shining down on you. You didn’t have a shining sun giving warmth to the frozen lands of Snezhnaya so having short clothes is so... different.

“Wow...” Teucer breathed out, looking at the vast lands. “This looks amazing!”

“Right!?” You exclaimed back. “Man, seeing this is so worth being stowaways!”

“Hey!” Teucer suddenly shouted, pointing his finger at something. You followed his finger to see a Ruin Guard sitting next to a broken tower. You immediately bit your lip. You’ve seen what they actually were, no thanks to you going out underneath Ajax’s nose. But you can’t break Teucer’s heart by not going towards it.

You thought back to your training with Ajax. You were sure you can at least stall the thing, right?

You smiled back at Teucer. “Let’s go meet Mr. Cyclops!”

Teucer’s smile was all the confidence that you needed. You two hurried to where the Ruin Guard was, Teucer nearly dragging you in his excitement. The hulking mass of metal slowly made you regret your decision but you had to show strength. You weren’t going to let some rusty robot destroy your little brother’s dreams.

Seeing the thing up close though, you realized just how idiotic your plan seemed to be. You just hoped that this one was a defective Ruin Guard as you watched Teucer run up to it without a care in the world. The hulking mass loomed over you two, but Teucer doesn’t seem to care. With his arms raised in glee, he greeted the giant like an old friend.

“Mr. Cyclops!” He yelled. “We came to see you!”

So far, nothing has happened. Maybe this was a defective Ruin Guard all along?

You lowered your guard, letting a smile break free until you noticed the pebble falling off on its shoulder.

“Teucer, get back!” You yelled, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him behind you. Your polearm automatically appeared in your hands, putting yourself in a defensive stance in front of Teucer.

He calls out your name, voice quivering. “Wh-What’s wrong?”

Your heart broke that you had to break his dreams but you can’t do it. Not to him, or to Ajax.

“This Mr. Cyclops is uh...” You scrambled for an excuse. “He’s a really mean one! He’s one of those bullies!”

Teucer gasped indignantly. “Mr. Cyclops is not a bully!”

“Well, there are a lot of Mr. Cyclops’,” you continued, eyeing up at the already standing Ruin Guard, “and sometimes they can be just meanies!”

You hoped that was an adequate excuse for whatever you were about to pull. The Ruin Guard reared its arms, preparing to strike the ground. Without delay, you picked up Teucer and ran away from the strike. The ground that you were on before corroded and pulverized to dust as you hurried to a nearby forest. Spotting a thick enough bush, you tossed Teucer there, crouching down to his level with a stare that said ‘Stay here.’

Turning your back against your little brother, you readied your polearm against the Ruin Guard, it’s yellow core staring down at you like if it was capable of gloating. With a battle cry, you ran up to the thing, sidestepping its punches and piercing your polearm to where the joints are. It sparked and you could hear mechanical somethings breaking down but it wasn’t enough.

Rearing back, you stared up in horror at the sight of it’s back, missiles raring to fire. There was no way to dodge it in time and you had no idea if any of them would hit Teucer. Fearing for the worst, you shut your eyes. You hear the missiles fire and you instinctively flinched.

Yet nothing happened. You peeked with one eye and you wished you hadn’t.

The familiar red scarf fluttering with his Hydro Vision, the water blades that he holds in each hand, the orange mop that you kept teasing him that he should get a haircut. It was him.

Without warning, Ajax jumped and gouged the core with his water lance. The Ruin Guard immediately staggered back, it’s footsteps creating mini-earthquakes that you had to ground yourself. Without even grunting, Ajax managed to tear the core away from its body. The core spazzed when it was pierced through his lance. Ajax then hopped off of the Ruin Guard as it flopped down on the ground, no longer moving.

The only source of sound were the birds who flew overhead and your labored breathing. You still had trouble assessing the situation as you were still holding your polearm in a death grip. Thankfully, you didn’t have to wait too long to snap out of your stupor.

“What on Teyvat were you thinking!?” Ajax yelled, whirling back to you. You flinched when you saw his face; his eyes were positively dripping with anger and it didn’t help that his mouth was etched into a snarl. “I thought I left you back home and here you are, fighting a Ruin Guard!”

“A-Ajax...” You stammered. “I...”

“Don’t blame them, big brother!” Teucer exclaimed from his hiding spot. His arms quickly parted the bushes, leaves still clinging to him but he still hurried to your side. “It was my idea to meet Mr. Cyclops!”

Ajax’s eyes widened at the sight of Teucer before he glared back at you. “You brought Teucer with you!?”

Warmth began to bloom behind your eyes as you looked down, not wanting to meet his gaze. “I-I’m sorry...”

Your sorry state made Ajax’s words constrict in his throat. Even when you did something dangerous and trying to scold you, he still can’t feel bad about making any of his family cry.

With a sharp sigh, he brought you closer to his body, wrapping you in a hug. From there, he felt the tears stain his shirt and frankly he would prefer that over the blood that he’s stained with. Looking at Teucer, who was already beginning to cry, raised his hand to his little brother.

Questions will have to wait. Right now, Childe is Ajax.

#genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #childe #childe x reader #childe imagines #platonic #x f!reader #x female!reader

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nose-bandaid · 3 years

Text

the moon told me so ☾~

Wonwoo x (gender neutral) Reader | soulmate AU angst | 4.5k words

synopsis: in a world where you and your soulmate share a special marking that appears on one’s body at the age of 18 or later. you were wonwoo’s, but wonwoo was no one’s, and you were the fool who didn’t say a word about it. alternatively:

you are in love with jeon wonwoo, but jeon wonwoo isn’t ready to love yet.

a/n: i uh, feel kinda shy posting this lmao but i hope you enjoy:))

sequel: the little flower on your wrist and the epilogue: kairosclerosis

=====

“When are you going to tell him?”

“Tell who?”

Seungkwan sighed and gave you a knowing look. “Wonwoo, who else would I be talking about?”

“I don’t have anything I need to say to him.” You muttered into the warm knitted scarf wrapped around your neck. The snow fell gently around you in large clumps — the kids on your street were sure to be delighted when they wake up to that. It wouldn’t be long before you started seeing snowmen pop up one by one, all with little carrots and hats decorating them, giving them life. However, to you, the snow only added to the weight in your heart. The peaceful, yet lonely atmosphere made you want to curl back into your bed and sleep your sadness away. And then you could hope that maybe when you woke up, all of your problems would be solved.

Yes, that sounded like a much better option, compared to standing around in the cold weather, waiting for a late taxi. But you promised him that you would show up today. As much as you didn’t want to, you weren’t one to break the promises you made. Promises were meant to be kept.

And so, you woke up at a horrid 4 am today and dressed yourself with the best outfit your sluggish mind could think of. All to make sure that you were at the airport on time, just for him.

“Y/n... this might be your last chance. I mean, this is already terribly last minute for you to do so, but we also have no idea when he’ll come back.” Seungkwan’s voice softened when he noticed your stressed demeanour.

“Listen, I know, okay? I’ll tell him today, I’ve been preparing what to say for the past week. I just... I just need to get myself together, that’s all.” The words spilled out of your mouth as you tried to get him to stop nagging.

Before you could get a response, the taxi pulled up in front of you, and you busied yourself with getting a seat in the back while Seungkwan relayed the destination to the driver. He then took a seat in the passenger’s side, leaving you alone in the back with the little present you brought with you by your side.

The whole car ride was silent, minus the soft music that played from the radio — some kind of ambient jazz that only made the atmosphere even more awkward. You fidgeted with the bracelet dangling on your wrist and looked out the window, the yellow beads clinking against each other to add some noise to the silence. The buildings passed by with a blur, and every so often you would come across a location that prompted a treasured memory in you.

The mall that you and Wonwoo would visit almost everyday during middle school. Your parents weren’t the fondest of the idea that you guys were going there so often, but you went either way. There was ice cream to be eaten, game demos to be played, outfits (that you could definitely not afford) to try on, and snacks to be bought.

The arcade that you so daringly visited when you were supposed to be in class. It was Mingyu who had suggested the idea, as a joke, but everyone started getting on board with it and soon you were roped into the adventure too. None of you guys were really the type to skip school, the thought just never visited your mind, and you had other things to worry about. On that day though, you decided to let yourself be just the slightest bit free, and with a little convincing, you got Wonwoo of all people, to come along too.

That day was a blast, the thrill of rebellion, the refreshing taste of freedom, even the stuffiness of the arcade was bearable — your uniform was far too warm for the environment. Miraculously, there was no big punishment for your absence when you returned, just a light scolding, and that simply heightened the excitement of the day. You never pulled such an act ever again, but you most definitely held that memory dear to your heart. Because on that day, Wonwoo’s smiles were almost a thousand times brighter than usual.

Your eyes flickered between the trees that trickled their way into your view, and they steadily grew in numbers to paint a forest in front of you. Though their leaves were barren and their branches were heavy with snow, all you could think of were the lush green forests that surrounded the cottage you visited almost a year ago. The one that you and your friends rented out, the one that housed some of the happiest moments in your life, the one that echoed some of the loudest laughs ever, the one that kept you warm under the cool night, as you snuggled into each other’s arms.

The one that witnessed your life fall apart.

-----

You remembered that dreary day, when Wonwoo pulled you aside from the others and into a little alcove in the forest nearby, a nervous look painted on his face. Your friend group had decided to spend the warm weekend at the cottage to celebrate Wonwoo’s birthday and new soulmate mark. They all insisted that it was tradition to host an all-out celebration for the occasion, despite the boy’s refusals. If they celebrated for the others, they had to celebrate for him as well.

You were all about to head to the beach for a swim before barbecuing some dinner, the weather was a comfortable mix of the warm sun and the cool breeze. It should’ve been perfect.

Let’s put an emphasis on should’ve.

When you finished changing, before you could catch up to the others who were already dunking themselves into the frigid water, laughter getting lost in the vast forest, Wonwoo stopped you at the front door with a gentle grip on your arm. From the looks of it, he’d been waiting for you for a while.

“Hey y/n... could we talk for a minute?”

And that question brought you to a wooden bench in a small clearing, hidden away from the others’ sight. The sunlight filtered through the leaves above, casting a delicate pattern around you. The air of uneasiness between you two was so contrasting to the mood a few moments ago, that you were immediately filled with worry. The last time you saw Wonwoo, he was laughing his head off with Mingyu and Seokmin over a stupid dad joke that someone made. Now, there was no trace of that former carefree personality.

“Wonwoo what’s up? Is something wrong?”

He bit his lip, clearly deep in thought. “You know how I’m supposed to be getting my mark tomorrow?”

You nodded. “Yeah, that’s why we all came here to celebrate right? Is it too much for you? I can tell the others to cool off on the partying, I know they can be overwhelming.”

“No it’s not that, I don’t mind it. It’s just... I’m honestly not so sure about this whole soulmate thing.” His voice was small and his shoulder tensed as he awaited your response.

“Like, you’re worried about the mark not showing up tomorrow?”

“No, I’m worried that I won’t be able to love my soulmate the way I’m supposed to.” He clarified, a bit firmer now.

Your heart stopped.

“Well,” You you pursed your lips as your mind raced to gather the best way to respond. “You could always just tell them right? That you’re not ready for a relationship, I’m sure they would understand.”

“But what if I’m never ready?” His confidence had suddenly disappeared, and you could feel that he was getting panicky, so you rested a gentle hand on his thigh to calm him down. “That feels so unfair to them. Like I’m going against fate.”

You swallowed back the emotions building up in your throat. You were hoping for the already low chance that he would be your soulmate, that maybe the stars would be in your favour and offer you an easy happy ending of some sort. After all these years together, you felt that there was almost no way that you couldn’t be paired together in some way. But now, even if you were soulmates, Wonwoo had just denied the only possibility for you to get together. Romantically, at least. Which was unfortunately, what you’ve been hoping for all this time.

“You could always just be friends right? There’s some people out there who just decide to be friends and there’s nothing wrong with that. Soulmates aren’t always about romantic love.” It was the best you could offer. You were fine with pushing back your feelings for him if it meant that he’ll be happy with his decision. The last thing you wanted to do was force your love onto him.

“Yeah but do you really know anyone who’s done that? Y/n, everyone around us started dating their soulmate the moment they found them. They’re going to come to me with that mindset and I’m going to have to shut them down.” He paused. “The person that they’ve been searching for all their lives will be shutting them down. Don’t you think that’s harsh on my part? That I should just suck it up and get together with them?”

“Wonwoo, I can’t speak up on behalf of your soulmate,” You choked back the pitiful laugh building up in your throat. “but if they’re supposed to be the perfect match for you, I think they would try their best to understand your feelings, because you deserve to be matched with one of the kindest people in the world.”

He didn’t take his gaze off the pebbles his shoes prodded at, and you took that as a sign to continue.

“With that said, let’s just enjoy today, and all the other days to come as we wait for your soulmate. And when they come along, we’ll take things one step at a time, and work through the problem as it plays along. Worrying about it beforehand isn’t going to do you any good, don’t you agree? That’s what you told me before right?”

Wonwoo slowly nodded and slipped his hands back onto his lap. “You’re right, I’m worrying too much about something that hasn’t happened to me yet. What if I don’t even get my mark this year? I won’t be able to totally forget the problem, but I’ll try my best to put it aside for now.” He smiled softly to himself, and you patted his shoulder.

“That’s the spirit! So you wanna go back to the others and go for a swim? If you’re up to it?”

“Yeah, I think that would be nice. Thanks for listening, y/n.” He got up from the bench and offered you a hand which you gratefully took. Silence settled between you too as you made your way out of the forest and back to the beach. The others were quick to notice you and began eagerly calling for you guys to jump in. Before you gave in to their persistent requests, you paused for a moment and started talking again.

“Oh, and Wonwoo?”

He stopped a few steps ahead of you and turned around. “Yeah?” He looked much lighter than he did a few moments ago, but for some reason, your heart broke a little at his happiness.

You gave him a downcast smile, and if he sensed the dismal tone in your voice, he didn’t say anything about it. “Just know that there’s nothing wrong with wanting to love your soulmate platonically. I have a good feeling they’ll understand.”

Maybe you had gotten a bit ahead of yourself that day by assuming that you were going to be soulmates. No matter how much you felt that connection in your heart, Wonwoo himself never showed any signs of feeling it too. This whole thinking-that-he-was-your-soulmate-before-it-was-even-confirmed thing could’ve just been your mind being a mix of delusional and hopeful. But you said what you said, and it’s not like he noticed any of your hints anyways.

And it’s not like he ever will notice.

------

The next day, you woke up with a tight arm wrapped around your waist and the sun shining on your face. If it was any other day, you would’ve simply closed your eyes and fallen back asleep without caring so much about what time it was, but thankfully you had enough sense in you to remember the date.

July 17th.

Lifting your head fully off the pillow, you followed the arm hugging you to find Chan, buried underneath a soft blanket, still snoring away. Nudging him lightly, he stirred and moved his arm to rub his eyes, freeing you.

“Morning, Chan.” You poked his nose.

He let out a few incoherent mumbles before opening his eyes and looking at you. “What?”

“It’s Wonwoo’s birthday we gotta wake up and get the others.”

“Can’t we do that in a few minutes?” He whined, and tried to return to his pillow, but you were quicker, and pulled him into a sitting position.

“No we can’t, silly, we have things to do before he wakes up.” After a little bit of bickering between you two, you finally managed to convince him to get up and he left to go take a shower. You let out a quiet sigh. One down.

Turning to the couch nearby you looked at Jun who was still sleeping soundly.

11 more to go...

By the time everyone woke up and the celebration kicked off, it was already late morning and you all settled on ordering some pizza for lunch and a couple of the boys left to pick up the food (being located in a remote cottage made it a little difficult for a pizza guy to come here out of the blue). As you waited for the food, everyone went about and did their own things to kill the time, and you found Wonwoo sitting alone on the porch. Joining him, you gave him a playful punch on the shoulder and smirked.

“Hey there, birthday boy.”

He returned the smile with little enthusiasm and you could tell a lot was on his mind.

“Everything good? You’re not worrying about your soulmate are you?” You asked.

Wonwoo averted his eyes from your gaze. “I’m just thinking about it a little bit.”

“So...” You tried your best to play it cool. “I guess what we’re all wondering is whether you’ve gotten your mark or not?”

You could’ve just dropped the topic and not asked him, more for your own good than his, because you would surely lose it if you spent another minute thinking about your soulmate. On the other hand, it would’ve been a little selfish if you chose to completely ignore the whole getting your mark on your birthday thing, but let’s be honest — what were you going to do after seeing it? Some things are better left unknown, and yet, you asked him anyways.

He hesitated for a moment before rolling up the sleeve of the hoodie he was wearing. The sun was bright outside and the humidity was definitely at a high, he must’ve been absolutely melting in that outfit, but now you knew why he dressed so conservatively today. “Yeah, I did.”

He angled himself towards you and you stared at the moon crescent just below his wrist. In place of the stars usually found in the sky, small flowers were scattered here and there. It was a beautiful, yet simple design.

Unconsciously you crossed your legs and rubbed your ankle, where the exact same design sat, hidden underneath the socks you always wore.

“That design really suits you.”

It was all you could choke out without giving anything away. No matter how hard you tried, nothing could stop the rush of emotions building up in your throat. You wanted to scream out loud, you wanted to cry out to Wonwoo, because what the hell did you do to deserve this fate? Out of all the people in the world, why did it have to be him? Why did it have to be you? You were losing it.

And so you fled. Like the fool you were, you fled.

Giving him a gentle pat on his shoulder, you excused yourself and went straight back into the cottage and into the bedroom. You didn’t leave until Chan came in and asked if you were alright and to that, you spilled everything. You didn’t care about Wonwoo’s secret at that point, because you just needed to have someone to confide with. Someone to understand you.

Though some of the story was quite a shock to him, especially considering the fact that you’ve been keeping your soulmate mark hidden from all of them, Chan listened to you with all seriousness. In the middle of your rambling, Seungkwan also walked in to see what was taking you so long. The tears on your cheek probably weren’t the best thing for him to see, but deep down, you were happy to have another person to talk to. And as you did, he looked at you with empathetic, almost pitiful eyes.

It was terrible, but still relieving.

You promised each other to keep your secret between the three of you. The others didn’t need any extra drama in their lives, and besides, they weren’t supposed to be aware of Wonwoo’s secret until he decided to tell them himself.

You spent the rest of the vacation distancing yourself from him, and instead, you stuck by Chan and Seungkwan’s sides, and they made sure to take care of you, which was something you’ll forever be grateful for. Whenever Wonwoo made his way towards you, one of them would create some sort of distraction or pipe up a new conversation to drag you away from the man in question. Eventually, he seemed to get the message that you didn’t want to be around him and didn’t try to approach you for the rest of the time there.

You felt bad. So bad for ignoring him. It was his birthday for God’s sake, and you — his best friend — were ignoring him on his birthday.

It wasn’t his fault. It totally wasn’t his fault for not wanting to be in a relationship. Just like how it wasn’t really your fault for falling head over heels for him. For loving the wrong person. But it happened against your will, and now you have to deal with the consequences of your actions.

If you had said just one more word to him on that day, would things have turned out differently? Maybe you would’ve gotten together? Maybe you would’ve come to terms as just friends?

Maybe, at least, you wouldn’t have drifted.

-----

“Happy birthday y/n.”

Wonwoo slid a neatly wrapped present across the table and you ripped it open without much hesitation, too excited to see what was inside.

It was the sweater you’ve always wanted, a soft royal purple that was decorated with constellations along the sleeves and a moon on its chest pocket. Honestly, you were interested in the sweater because it reminded you of a certain someone, and you wanted to wear it because it made you think of him. You hadn’t told him about it though, and you silently wondered how he found out.

“This doesn’t make up for anything though.” You muttered childishly and took a sip of the cool drink in front of you. You were referring to the news he dropped on you just moments before giving you the gift.

He nervously adjusted his glasses. “I’m sorry. Even I’m unhappy about moving across the world, but at the same time... y/n... this is my dream.”

You sighed and put down the drink. “I know. I’m just upset that we won’t be able to see each other for who knows how long.” You paused to think for a moment. “How long are you going to be gone for anyways?”

“At least 4 years.” He said in a small voice. “4 years for school and if I can get myself a job...” He let out a sigh in defeat.

“I don’t really know how long I’ll be there for.”

“Wow.” You breathed out. “So like I’ll really have to say goodbye then, right?”

“There’s still time, it’ll take a few months for everything to be planned and settled so don’t worry. But let’s just ignore that for now,” He swatted his hand int he air as if it would get rid of the gloomy mood settling over the table. “So much for a birthday gift right? I’m sorry for bringing this up today of all days, but I thought you deserved to know.” He smiled sadly.

“It’s fine. I appreciate you telling me right away.” You fiddled with the tag of the sweater in your hands. Ah, what the heck. Ripping off the tag entirely, you slipped the sweater on top of the clothes you were currently wearing. It was comfy, albeit a little bit stuffy with all the layers you had on, but you didn’t mind. “Thank you for the sweater by the way, I really like it, how did you know?”

“I had to do a little bit of digging to find that out.” He laughed. “I’ve noticed that you’ve been really close to Chan recently so I asked him if he knew anything about what you wanted for your birthday.”

“Ah.”

You couldn’t tell if he was hinting something about being jealous of your friendship with Chan, or if he was simply stating what he saw. You also didn’t bother to ask. The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes.

After your time at the cottage, things had fallen a little awkward between you two. You didn’t ignore him outright, you still had your usual conversations from time to time, but it was clear that at one point, you fell from best friends to practically acquaintances. Which probably was the opposite of what both of you wanted. While things have slowly been getting better overtime, the awkwardness between you two was still unbearable.

“Also...” He started tentatively.

“Mhm?”

“I was wondering if you got your mark?”

Right. He still doesn’t know. No one knew really, your own mark was still a secret kept between you, Chan, and Seungkwan. And you were planning to keep it what way, especially now that you knew that Wonwoo was literally going to disappear entirely from your life sometime soon. You knew it was a bit of a stretch to assume that. With all the technology that existed in the world, obviously you’d still be able to connect, even if there was a time difference. And surely Wonwoo would visit you guys once in a while. because he wouldn’t completely forget about you... right?

As much as you hated to admit it, no matter how hard the two of you tried, you were bound to lose each other someday. The man you loved, and still love, so dearly, will ambitiously pursue his dreams on the other side of the world while you, the lover, will miss your only chance to set things right.

You were being given another opportunity to tell him about your mark. Life was being kind enough to let you make up for your mistake at the cottage. And yet, you still looked into the eyes of your soulmate, and lied through your teeth, plastering on that same polite smile you’ve used over and over again, whenever someone asked you about your mark.

“No, not yet.”

“Oh,” His eyes darted away from yours. “I’m sorry for asking.”

“No, no, it’s alright. I guess I’m just one of those rare cases, maybe I’ll finally get it next year.” You gave him a sad smile, which really wasn’t too hard to muster.

“You’ll find your soulmate soon, y/n. Don’t worry about it.” He gave you a reassuring smile and put his hand on top of the one you had on the table.

Yeah, I won’t worry about it.

=====

The taxi jerked to a stop and you gazed into the windows of the busy airport. All kinds of people were bustling about, carrying their luggages, making frantic phone calls, corralling their kids, reuniting with loved ones. The door in front of you opened, and Seungkwan held out a hand to help you up.

“C’mon, let’s go.”

You took his hand and he gently held onto you the entire time he guided you through the winding hallways. People brushed against your shoulder but you were too focused on your racing heart to bother with an apology. When you saw Wonwoo along with a few others in the distance, your fingers nervously tightened their grip on the small gift bag in your hands.

You weren’t ready to see him yet.

There wasn’t enough time for you to create some sort of plan B, because plan A was really starting to sound stupid to you now. When Seungkwan nudged you to go say your goodbyes, you hesitantly shuffled up to him, opting to stare at his sneakers instead of his face. You felt kind of pathetic, to be honest.

“Here, this is for you.” You placed the small box into his hands and gingerly clasped it before finally letting go. He opened it and pulled out a bracelet, its intricate pattern matched the one on your wrist, except his beads were painted a deep navy blue and white.

“A bracelet?” He questioned as he slipped it onto his wrist, the small bell attached chimed along with its movement. It fit him perfectly. “Thanks y/n, you didn’t have to.”

“How could I not give you something before you go?” You countered.

“Hey, why are you acting like I’m leaving for good or something?” He joked lightly and ruffled your hair, which was rare coming from him. Usually it was the other boys who did that to you, but it’s not like you were going to refuse it. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Well that was a blatant lie. Though neither of you knew when he would be back, it was guaranteed that he would be gone for at least a few years. And if he ended up getting a job there, you might as well kiss goodbye to any chance of seeing him until you can manage your own work life. Maybe one day, you would be able to gather enough money to pay him a visit.

“I just want to make sure you have something to remember me by.” You answered softly, still refusing to look in his eyes. “In case we don’t get to see each other again.”

In case we drift apart like we already have.

“I’ll make sure to stay in contact, I promise.”

You opened your mouth to reply as the first tear dripped onto your cheeks.

I’m your soulmate Wonwoo. Since day one, I’ve always been in love with you, so please come home soon and we can figure things out. I can wait for you.

That’s what you were supposed to say. Your mind screamed at you to say the words you so diligently rehearsed all morning, but instead you asked him in a shaky voice. “Do you think you’re going to meet your soulmate there?”

He must’ve mistook the regret in your voice as sadness over his departure, because he didn’t question your tone.

“I just might meet them, y/n.” You hated the way he sounded hopeful saying that. And then you proceeded to hate yourself for thinking that way.

“I really thought my soulmate would be someone here, but I guess not. The world works in funny ways.” He laughed a little, and it just added to the awkwardness between you two.

But it’s me, I’m your soulmate Wonwoo, do you not feel it too?

“I also still don’t know if I’m ready to do anything romantically yet.“ He added.

You simply nodded and looked straight into his eyes, vision was blurry with tears, but you still gave him the warmest smile you could possibly muster.

As of today, you’ve finally made your decision. If you were going to say goodbye to him like this, you were also going to say goodbye to the feelings you had for him. You’ll learn to move on. Like any other problem you’ve faced in life, you’ll eventually move on. And if you were going to say goodbye to him like this, you wanted to at least send him off with the best version of you.

He’d always told you he liked your smile.

“I see, well, I won’t keep you any longer and say goodbye then, Wonwoo.” You squeezed his hand firmly for the last time.

He returned the smile. “Goodbye, y/n. We’ll meet again soon.”

#seventeen #seventeen fanfic #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #seventeen wonwoo #wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo angst #seventeen x reader #wonwoo x reader #seventeen soulmate au #nose-bandaid

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wastelandcth · 3 years

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Better Love - cth

part two: the wild and us

summary: Maeve and Calum meet. The rain outside puts on a show.

author’s notes: I hope you guys enjoyed the first part of this series! This part had one of my favorite scenes I’ve ever written so I hope you enjoy!

warnings: mentions of drinking, mentions of breakups, mentions of food.

masterlist || request || join my taglist!

part one

Staring in the blackness at some distant star The thrill of knowing how alone we are, unknown we are To the wild and to the both of us

"What are you doing in my hotel?" she asked shakily, her wariness prevalent in the way her voice shook as she stared at the man in front of her.

The towel she was pulling closer to her body felt like nothing in the room with him. Maeve, who had only made it back to the cabin an hour prior, had expected to be alone. She'd hadn't expected to walk out of her shower to find a tall man sleeping in the bed she'd rented out for the week. She also hadn't expected the rainstorm to be so bad, her weather app claiming her entire week here would be sunny and perfect for hiking, so finding a man in her cabin hadn't been in her plans either.

And wow was he a sight for sore eyes.

"What are you doing in my cottage?" he asked, Maeve's eyebrow raising as she heard the trace of an accent, "Mrs. Bagby rented this place out to me, she never said there was someone already staying here," he huffed, his eyebrows furrowing as he studied Maeve's.

"Mrs. Bagby? Who the hell is Mrs. Bagby? I'm renting this from Mrs. Baird," Maeve said, "I was here first! You're the intruder!"

Maeve, who had always been prepared to debate with anyone, was not backing down no matter how exposed she was in front of a handsome man. She wasn't going to stand for a stranger barging into her space, she needed this vacation more than anything in this world and she'd be damned if she let this ruin it. She watched as the man in front of her opened and closed his mouth, looking like a fish out of the water as he tried to come up with a solution to the very obvious problem. If Maeve was honest, she had no idea how the confusion had happened or how they'd both ended up in this situation, but she didn't have much time to think about it.

The thunder outside shook the walls of the small cabin, rattling the jars and the decorations on the walls throughout, and it wasn't until Maeve heard the crack of lightning that she realized just how bad the storm outside had become. The view outside the window had been fogged, the colorful autumn trees disappearing behind the wall of water falling from the sky as the landscape blurred into a mixture of grey and orange with red splotches. Maeve, whose attention had switched from the man in the green hoodie to the raging storm outside, had grabbed the pile of clothes she'd left on the dresser. Without another word, she walked back towards the bathroom and made sure to twist the lock before she let out a breath.

The man in her bedroom for the week had been, breathtaking to say the least. His eyes, although wide and filled with confusion when Maeve had looked into them, were brown and shone even in the gloominess of the weather His hair was short, the tufts of blonde hair curling near the ends. Maeve guessed that his hair had been a darker color naturally, the roots she'd spotted proving her point. He looked like a kind person, maybe he was like Maeve as well, just another person looking for an escape.

That's all her trip to this cabin was meant to be, an escape.

Maeve's life had always been simple if you could call it that. She'd been born on a rainy afternoon, her mother liked to tell her it was because she was meant to outshine the sun itself. Her parents, who'd met in Scotland years before she ever came to take her first breath, had always told her about the magic the country had to offer. They told her stories of the forests so vast and large that even the biggest of problems could shrink down into pebbles that flowed away in the rivers. She'd grown up in a small town, dreaming of the wonders that Scotland had for her when she was old enough to see them.

Maeve had moved when her time at university peaked when her nose was stuck in books that spoke all about the history and the cultures that made up the world. It had been the first time in her life that she'd been away from her parents, from the only home she had ever known, and it had been so thrilling. She went from only traveling to big cities for concerts or when her father had needed to run errands to living right in the heart of all the commotion. The quiet nights that had been filled with only cicadas singing into the night were replaced by the sound of a city, alive and cheerful at all hours of the day. Maeve had never experienced so much at such a fast pace and her life at her university flew by before she had a chance to slow down. One day she was unpacking her bags in her dorm and the next she was accepting her diploma and applying to jobs around the country. She felt the burnout, felt the way her brain tensed whenever she read through application requirements and the thought of having to pack up her life again. She felt the way her eyes forced themself open while riding the train to interviews. She knew that she needed a break, a few days off to remember who she was and what she wanted in life. To make matters worse, her relationship had been going downhill. She'd met James at a social event the school had put on, both of them were in the same program so it wasn't hard to make conversation with him. After too many history jokes and a trip to the campus bar, Maeve found herself awake in his arms as he slept. She'd laid there that first night, looking out at the stars through his window, wondering why she'd felt a pull towards a different place, a different person.

That feeling hadn't stopped since that night, she'd stayed with James, he was a nice guy who made her laugh and kept her company as they both studied. But he wasn't someone she saw herself spending the rest of her life with. She had a feeling that James felt the same way even if they were both too afraid to admit that the spark that had been there before was fiddling out. The arguments were getting worse, the silence lasting longer as time went on. It wasn't until one night when Maeve had been studying for a final exam that it had all exploded. Words were thrown around, tears were shed, and she was left feeling like something was wrong with her. She couldn't understand why she couldn't love James as he loved her, she'd turn distant and pushed him away until all that was left between them was a broken flower vase and tears.

That's why she'd jumped on the opportunity to fly to Scotland when it arose. She'd been sitting at her desk, scrolling through an endless list of applications and teaching opportunities when the email had popped up. She'd read through it a couple of times, making sure she wasn't imagining the words on the screen. Her professor, who'd helped her in more ways than one could count, had recommended her for a teaching job abroad. She would have to visit the school, make sure that it was both a right fit for her and for the administration, but it seemed like they were more than ready to offer her a spot and helping her make Edinburgh her home.

Mrs. Baird, the lovely older woman who had driven Maeve up to the cabin and helped her unpack, had told her that she was glad she'd arrived a few days earlier after Maeve had told her all about why she was visiting Scotland at such an odd time of year. She'd been a curious soul ever since Maeve had stepped out of the taxi that had taken her from the train station out to the main residence Mrs. Baird had seemed to be the owner of. She'd asked Maeve all sorts of questions, which Maeve had taken as to her host just making sure she wasn't escaping from anyone dangerous or anything like that, it was a tough time to be a woman traveling alone.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll love the spot you'll be staying in then. It's very private, it'll be good for you to clear your head and relax before your big interview," she'd nodded as she packed up a few bags with groceries Maeve hadn't recalled reading about on the website.

"Oh, um, I don't think I paid for anything like that, Mrs. Baird," Maeve chuckled and shook her head, "I was thinking of just popping into town and picking up a few essentials."

"Oh don't you worry, darling! It's my pleasure. Plus, the cottage is quite secluded so it'd take you almost half a day to get to the shops and back," she shrugged, "Let's get going, yeah?"

The drive up to the cabin had been slow and gave Maeve a chance to take in the sights. The forest was alive with colors that Maeve's eyes had craved to see. It seemed like everything her parents had told her about the place they'd met was still the same. The trees still sway in the chilly breeze and somewhere in the distance, a river flowed with a power that only came with years of flowing and receiving rain. The drive itself had been plenty enough to get Maeve excited about her days of rest but the second her eyes saw the stone bridge that led to her home for the next couple of days, she knew her life was about to change. After helping Mrs. Baird with bringing in all the bags and thanking her for the candles she'd also brought, telling her a rainstorm was predicted to pass through the next day, Maeve was alone.

Her first day in the cabin had been spent unpacking and unwinding. Mrs. Baird had been kind enough to bring a bottle of Scottish whiskey, telling her," when in Scotland" and Maeve had sampled the liquor, letting it burn her throat as she stared out at the river flowing outside her bedroom window. Her trip had been going great so far, she'd successfully beaten jetlag, had managed not to burn the small kitchen down during her dinner, and she had taken a nice and relaxing show when the rainstorm had shown up the next day. She'd made sure to light a few candles around the place, not wanting to walk around in the dark if the power did go out. Then, of course, everything took a turn for the unexpected when Maeve walked out of the bathroom and was met by a man sleeping in her bed.

By the time she'd walked out of the bathroom again, fully dressed and a little more confident in herself, the power had gone out and the whole cabin had been illuminated with an orange glow coming from the candles. The man was no longer in the bedroom, but the storm outside the window was winding up more and more as the seconds passed. She knew she couldn't make him walk out in the forest during the storm, it was too dangerous and mean in general to kick someone out in the middle of a downpour. So she'd let the guy stay until the storm passed and then they'd both walk down to the main residence and sort out whatever the hell was happening.

"Calum," he mumbled, looking over as Maeve stepped out into the living room, "I'm Calum."

"Maeve," she replied with a nod, "You're not here to murder me, right?"

Calum chuckled and shook his head, which made Maeve warm and sent a shiver down her spine. His smile was nice, a murderer wouldn't have waited for her to get dress unless he was into that, she thought. She'd smiled at him, tugging the sleeves of her sweater down a bit as she looked around the living room. The candles gave the entire room a moody glow, the storm had stopped the sunshine from coming in through the windows and it had felt later on in the day than it actually was.

"So...tea?" she asked softly as she motioned towards the kitchen.

Maeve had found out that Calum, which was a very fitting name for the man sitting across from her watching the rain outside, had been in Scotland for a little over two weeks. He'd been traveling on his own, exploring the smaller cities and seeing what the Highlands had to offer. Maeve had told him about her interview, confessing that she wasn't the most prepared and that these few days before were to help her hopefully calm down. To her surprised, she’d learned that Calum was a professor at a university near his town, both of their widening at the confession of just how similar they were.

"That's exciting, what are you hoping to teach?” Calum asked, his eyes meeting hers in the candlelight, “I specialize in Art History.”

“History,” she nodded, a blush on her cheeks, her eyes glancing down to the cup of tea that had been warming her hands, “I’ve always loved studying it and I want to help others learn about it too.”

“Yeah? I get that. The history department at my school isn’t the best Some older man names Rainer runs it like it’s still warm times,” Calum chuckled, “He’s the worst.”

Maeve laughed, shaking her head as she thought about her fair share of professors who had yet to catch up with the times She thought about what kind of instructor Calum was. It was only his second year teaching so was he the one who made his students excited for lessons ahead? Did he use fun activities and assignments to incorporate them into his plans? Maybe he assigned cool projects, where the main point was to gain a bigger understanding of something a student has been wanting to talk about. Calum seemed like the type and from what Maeve had learned about the man in the short hours she’d known him, she knew he was kind and attentive.

“How was your hike up here?” Calum asked as he set the cup of tea down on the table, his legs stretching out as his head leaned on the back of the couch.

“Hike?” Maeve asked, furrowing her eyebrows as she looked over at him.

“Yeah, I left around like five and didn’t get here until ten,” Calum chuckled and shrugged, “And somehow you look like you just took a leisurely drive up here,” he teased, sitting up as he saw the look on Maeve’s face, “Oh my god, you drove up here, didn’t you?”

"In my defense," Maeve giggled out, holding her arms up, "Mrs. Baird offered to bring me up here"

"Oh, and she forced me to walk for five hours and fall in the mud!?" Calum whined, shaking his head as he let out a groan, "She's so not getting a good review from me, whatever her name may be."

Maeve laughed softly, watching the way Calum ran a hand down his face and pouted over at her. She was surprised at how easily they both got along, usually, Maeve had trouble getting out of her own head and talking to new people. But with Calum things just felt so carefree. She wasn't sure if it was such a good thing, opening up to a complete stranger who had been booked into the same cabin as her, but the rain outside wasn't letting up and she was more than willing to work out a compromise to share with him until the rain stopped and they could take the quad bike Mrs. Baird had told Maeve about before leaving her in the middle of nowhere.

"Do you want to go freshen up? I'm sure your five-hour hike up here more than justifies a nice warm bath," Maeve nodded, giggling as Calum glared playfully over at her, "I'll try and mix something up for lunch?"

"That sounds lovely, if the rain doesn't stop soon I'll make us dinner," Calum shrugged, standing up from the couch and walking over to the entrance of the cabin, gathering his bag and a pile of clothes that Maeve hadn't even noticed were on the floor before making his way over to the bathroom.

The rain had not stopped by the time Calum had gotten out of the bath, much to Maeve’s pleasure since she’d heard his soft voice singing along to whatever song he’d been playing. The rain hadn't stopped while the two ate their lunch, a stew that Maeve had managed to throw together in the tiny kitchen. And the rain had, surprisingly, not stopped while Calum had been bustling around the kitchen a few hours later, making dinner while Maeve read through one of the many books she’d packed with her for her trip If she hadn’t known anything about Scotland before traveling there, she would’ve assumed the Earth was flooding and that her adventure abroad would end before it even started.

It wasn’t until a crack of thunder rocked the walls of the cabin that Maeve realized just how extreme the weather has turned. The window was howling against the windows, shaking the panes with the intensity of it. The power had yet to come back and as the day had gone by, the cabin had only grown gloomier and gloomier. Their only source of light had been the many candles that their host has left them, something Maeve would be eternally grateful for. They crackled and glowed in the darkness of whatever room Maeve would get up to look out the window through. Her shadows mixed with the firelight and danced across the dark walls of the safety she’d come to know in her short stay. The river outside of the house, which was louder now that it was filled with rainwater, had grown taller as Maeve would barely see the giant rocks inside of the river which had caused the small rapids earlier in the day.

It was all terrifyingly beautiful.

Nature had put on a show for her and Calum, letting them in on the secret dance the forest and elements did for one another. The trees danced with the wind, swaying wildly from side to side and switching directions when they pleased. The river water jumped over the stone bridge above it, splashing cold water onto the top and lowering as it sprinkled back down onto itself. The woodland animals, who would be hiding in the safety of their own homes, hidden somewhere Maeve couldn’t quite see but hoped they’d be just as amazed watching the show that the world put on for them. It was all so terrifying and violent, the rain submitting to no one but itself as he disappeared into the river only to come down harder from the clouds in the night sky. It wasn’t until the thunder, which had been singing a song for the forest itself, cracked again that the stone bridge took its final bow.

Maeve watched as the bridge crumbles. It started slowly, one of two big pieces crumbling into the river below as if by accident. But the water was cruel and greedy, splashing upwards and sending more and more stone into its hands. Maeve, who could do nothing more than watch as their only way back out to civilization crumbled and washed away into the river below, gasped and leaned against the window. The glass shook underneath her hands, the wind greeting her palms from the outside and howling in excitement as the once-solid bridge was split into two pieces, never to meet again, as the final act of nature’s show came to an end.

“Did you hear that?” Calum asked as he walked into the bedroom, where Maeve had been watching the show, “Maeve?”

She turned to face the stranger, her wide eyes softening as she was met with the definition of a word she couldn’t place in her brain. Calum had changed into a pair of joggers, the grey material hanging loosely off his hips and only held up by a haphazardly tied knot. His upper half was dressed in a warm green sweater, the color reminding her of the fields of green she’d seen on the train ride to the small town, his board shoulder stretching the fabric a little bit in the candlelight, he looked breathtaking. Maeve knew he was good-looking, it was one of the first things she’d noticed when he’d jumped up from the bed with tired eyes that had been filled with fear. He was beautiful and kind and…stuck with Maeve.

“T-the bridge,” she stuttered out, her cheeks flushing as she realized Calum was still standing in front of her waiting for an answer, “The bridge fell.”

taglist: @hoodhoran @finelliine @moonlightcriess @dinosaursandsocks @mxgyver @calpops @karajaynetoday @notlukehemmo @calumrose @devilatmydoor @lyss-xo @lowkeyflop @matchacal @hemmo1996-5sosvevo @myloverboyash @2fangirl4u @multistann

#calum hood x oc #calum hood x reader #calum hood x you #calum hood imagines #calum hood fics #calum hood blurbs #calum hood #5sos x reader #5sos x oc #5sos x you #5sos imagines #5sos fics #5sos blurbs #5sos #5 seconds of summer #better love series #gemma writes

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ilovemesomekillianjones · 3 years

Text

In the Still of the Night

Here is my contribution for the Captain Swan Neverland New Year event! You guys, I am so excited to be writing again!!!! Thank you @xhookswenchx for beta reading this baby for me. Kudos to the mods of @neverlandnewyear for thinking up and putting together this treasure that is Captain Swan in Neverland. Tag list at the end, please let me know if you ever want to be removed or added.

Summary: Set after Henry is safe (no Pan switch) but before the gang is able to leave Neverland. When Emma is woken in the still of the night, from dreams of a devilishly handsome pirate captain, she decides she needs a midnight swim to cool off. In which Hook and a daringly open Emma have a meeting of the mind, body, and soul.

Rated M 8K ao3 ffnet Story under the cut, promise

It was the middle of the night when Emma woke, a sweltering, sweaty mess. “Why is this island so fucking hot,” she muttered into the darkness. Having a lascivious dream about Hook had absolutely naught to do with her elevated temperature, it was undoubtedly this goddamn jungle. Now that Pan had been conquered, and Henry was safe, Emma found she was having an increasingly difficult time keeping the smoldering, blue-eyed pirate off of her mind. She needed to get back to Storybrooke, back to some semblance of normalcy... or whatever. She silently cursed Gold for not having found a way to get her father home safely yet.

Ripping the covers from her body, she got up from her bunk below Henry’s and checked on him. Seeing that he was sound asleep, she headed topside. The deck of the Jolly Roger was blessedly deserted. Emma leaned against the railing, looking toward the vast jungle that was Neverland and she shuddered despite the hot, humid air that surrounded her. The shudder wasn’t due to the jungle itself. Since they’d defeated Pan, Hook had shown the group many of the island’s hidden beauties. He had stories for every spot he showed them, some hilarious, some melancholy, some quite ordinary, and others downright terrifying. There were quaint trails, refreshing springs and ponds, fascinating wildlife and vibrant plant life. It was actually quite a dream destination when a maniacal man-boy wasn’t playing psycho.

No, it wasn’t the jungle causing that shudder. She couldn’t get that goddamn kiss off her mind. Emma bit her lip as she reminisced about the way his lips had caressed hers, the way his tongue had slipped into her mouth hungrily but also tenderly. A one-time thing, she’d told Hook. Now if she could just maintain that lie, because that’s what it had been. She really needed Gold to find a way to magic David’s health back so they could get off this god forsaken island already.

She decided that the time for sleep was past, she was wide awake now, with thoughts of that damn pirate. A midnight dip would be ideal, especially while everyone was asleep. Emma left the Jolly Roger and headed toward the secluded pond that Hook had shown them. Once they’d no longer had to worry about being attacked, they’d created a regular schedule for bathing, so everyone had their own time. Luckily, no one’s time was right now.

Traversing quietly through the jungle, Emma admired the beauty around her. The greenery was lush, the effulgent dew made it seem more alive than any plants she’d ever been around. The blossoms surrounding the path were some of the largest she’d ever seen - they were dazzling pinks and oranges. She wondered if she had missed all this in her haste, fatigue, and desperation while finding Henry, or if the jungle had only come to life since the man-child was no more.

She followed the trail Hook had shown them, until she came upon the pond that was shrouded below an overhang at the base of what Hook had referred to as Dead Man’s Peak. The name hadn’t initially inspired comfort in the group, but when David explained to them that the water at the top of the peak was what had cured him, their perspectives changed. Emma swore there must be some restorative properties here at the base because she always felt rejuvenated when emerging from the water.

Stripping as soon as she broke the tree line, she discarded her clothes beneath a tree along the sandy shoreline. Her flesh pebbled as it met the open air, and she felt a freeness as she walked to the water’s edge. She dipped her toes in tentatively, knowing the water would be agreeable as always. Emma was immersed thigh deep before diving down below the surface and swimming toward the middle.

The water sluiced around her body soothingly while she held her breath as long as she could, before breaking the surface. Emma pushed her hair back then ran her hands over her face before opening her eyes. She enjoyed this spot, a sandbar of sorts, deep enough to cover her body, shallow enough that she could still reach, and far enough from all surrounding shore should anyone happen upon her.

The silence that enveloped her was serene and she looked up at the star filled sky. A shooting star floated across the heavens, but just as Emma was about to make a wish, the water beside her opened up as something emerged. The scream that started to bubble up from deep within her, as a hundred thoughts filled her mind on what unimaginable Never-beast this could be, was cut off by a voice she was not expecting to hear.

“Evening Swan!”

“Jesus Christ, Hook!” Emma gasped. Thank god she was in shoulder deep water. “Wait, did you… were you watching when I… you know,” she asked while motioning toward her body.

“Did I what?” Hook asked, genuine confusion furrowing his brow.

“Did you see me undressing?”

“You wound me, Swan… I would never!”

“Oh, tonight you’re the gentleman?”

“I told you, I am always a gentleman,” he claimed in a rich tone as he took a step closer to her. “Spying on a lady as she undresses would be unthinkably bad form.”

“Then where the hell were you?”

“I was underwater.”

“For the whole time?” she asked disbelievingly.

“Aye. I’m a pirate, love, when you live a life on the water, it’s best you be able to hold your breath for longer than the average landlubber. Never know when you might find yourself keelhauled.”

“Landlubber,” Emma scoffed, “I can hold my breath just fine.”

“I’ve no doubt you can, just not as long as meself,” he smirked.

Emma narrowed her eyes at the challenge in his tone. What was it about this man that had her wanting to comply with his every whim? She’d held her breath for as long as she could when she dove into the water, if he’d been under from the time she’d stripped until he popped up to interrupt her wish, that had to be like two full minutes? No way, she thought, he must have come up for air while she was under.

“Bet I can,” she challenged back.

“Is that so?” Hook asked, crowding her a little more, eyebrow cocked in interest. “And just what are the terms of this bet?”

If ever asked under oath, Emma would swear his eyebrows spoke a language all their own. “If I win, I get the Captain’s quarters,” Emma replied, crossing her arms over her chest smugly - as if she’d already won.

“I told you before, Swan, you and the lad should have my quarters.”

“I don’t want it given to me, I want to take it from you.”

“Fine,” he sighed, “such a stubborn lass. And if I win?”

“You tell me,” Emma said with a shrug of her shoulders.

“Hmmmm,” he hummed, as the tip of his tongue swept along his bottom lip. “How about…” he continued, tapping his pointer finger to his lips.

Emma leaned toward him with anticipation as he pondered the terms to set.

“I get to ask you any question I want.”

“Seriously?” Emma sputtered, head tilting to the side, it was rhetorical at best, not an actual question. “You’re taking this gentleman schtick a little over the top. I thought you’d want me to flash my tits or another kiss?”

“I told you, love, I am always a gentleman, and as such, I would never want to take a kiss from you in victory, I want it given to me, willingly. I want you to want it as much as I do.”

Emma blushed as he spoke, damn him for being a chivalrous pirate. “Whatever,” Emma muttered, “I’m winning this bet anyway.”

“So, we have an accord?” he questioned, holding out his hand for her to shake.

“Deal,” Emma said, shaking his hand. “How will we know no one cheated?”

“I do have a code, Swan,” Hook scoffed, “pillaging and plundering, yes; swashbuckling, yes; swindling beautiful maidens, never.” He held his hand over his heart as if he were making a pledge.

Emma smiled at the actual drama queen standing before her, laughing lightly, it felt good. “Okay, so how are we doing this thing?” Hook held up his hand like he was about to take an actual oath, and Emma was half inclined to high-five him, though she was sure that was not his intent.

“Take my hand then,” he prompted, nodding his head toward his hand. Once her fingers were laced with his, he explained that he would count to three and they’d both submerge to the bottom, first one up was the loser, and the winner would know, because the loser would release the winner’s hand to reach the surface for air.

On three they submerged, and Emma could not see a thing. Hook was inches from her, and the only indication was his hand in hers. Feeling the comfort of his grasp in the eerily dark abyss, she pondered over the fact that she’d interlocked their fingers, instead of just holding hands palm in palm. She really needed off this island, she couldn’t be falling for him. Life was too hard for a relationship. Or was it really too hard, the rarely heard from, softer side of Emma Swan’s mind butted in. It could be so easy, this voice told her.

When Hook had told her that he would win her heart without any trickery, Emma’s heart had beat a little stronger just for him, she’d wanted to pull him into her arms to make out right there. Alas, there had still been the issue of her beloved child to save.

Would it really be so bad to let Hook try to win her heart though? He truly was a gentleman, a pirate scoundrel sometimes too, but it was part of his charm. Plus, her lie detector said that everything he’d told her regarding how he felt about her, about what the kiss exposed, it was all true.

Emma’s mind wandered back to Storybrooke, to what it might be like to have someone who understood her, someone who was like her, to spend time with. The squeeze he gave her hand at that moment had her picturing what it might be like to walk through town with him, hand in hand. Was that even something she could still do, be that vulnerable, for the world to see her care for a man? She’d been on her own for so long, independent; free from any man who could hold her heart with the possibility of crushing it.

Suddenly she felt dizzy, head spinning and heart pounding loudly in her ears. Had she held her breath too long, or were her outlandish imaginings too much for her stoic heart? Releasing Hook’s hand, Emma rose to the surface and gulped in the air. Pushing water and hair from her face, she panted deeply. She wondered how long they’d been down there already as Hook continued his underwater mission. Leave it to him to not only win, but really show her up.

A full minute later, Emma began to worry. Unless she’d been down there an inordinately short amount of time, he’d been under for at least two and a half minutes. Was that even possible? Had he passed out in his endeavor to “best her”? She started to actually worry for his health when another thirty seconds passed.

“Goddammit Hook, where are you?” she muttered.

“Miss me, love?”

“Oh, goddammit!” she yelled as she flailed so hard, she was pretty sure she’d just flashed her breasts unwittingly. The bastard wasn’t even out of breath when he popped up right in front of her. “Stop doing that,” she laughed as she pushed his chest. “Why’d you stay down so long, you big showoff?”

“On the contrary, I could feel you thinking down there, the amount of body language just in your hand told me you were contemplating some things. I merely wished to give you enough time to escape, should this game have become too much for you.”

“Escape?” she scoffed.

“Now, now, Swan - we both know of your affinity to run,” he said lightly, no accusations or contempt in his voice.

“Says the pirate who sailed away when asked to be a part of something,” Emma retorted.

“I came back, didn’t I?” he questioned with a raised eyebrow. “You, on the other hand, left me to be eaten by a giant atop that beanstalk.”

“You’re so dramatic,” she laughed. “I made a deal with Anton to release you after ten hours, I just needed a head start, in case you…” Emma’s voice lowered to a whisper, not wanting to voice her early assumptions about his motives and intentions.

“In case I betrayed you,” Hook finished.

“Sorry,” she whispered, looking straight into his eyes, imploring him to believe the sincerity of her words. Although she’d had her reasons at the time, it didn’t make her feel less terrible now.

“Long forgiven, milady,” he whispered in turn. Then, in the next breath, he was back to the cocky pirate she knew. “Now, I do believe I won, and per our accord, you owe me the fee of one truth.”

“Congratulations,” Emma offered, extending her hand to shake, “you won, fair and square.” No trickery, she thought. Then she crossed her arms over her chest, which was still underwater, so it didn’t make her look menacing at all as she jutted out her chin and raised both eyebrows in a silent challenge to do his worst.

“Why thank you, Swan. Hmmm, what shall I ask you?” he spoke, as if pondering his many choices. “There are truly so many things I wish to learn about you, I want to know everything, really.”

Emma’s eyebrows lowered as a shy smile crept over her face. It was stupid, she knew, but having this man before her, admit that he wants to know everything about her made her feel… cherished, adored, wanted. It was a foreign feeling after so many years of being alone. “Well, you only get one free question,” she said, trying to deflect the saccharine sweet feelings he was stirring within her.

"Pity, that, but I do remember the terms of our agreement. I do have one question picked out that I simply must know the answer to, before I endeavor to learn more. Fair warning, I may not have an Emma Swan internal lie detector,” he said as he leaned in closer to her, “but as I told you before, you are a bit of an open book, so I’ll know if you’re twisting the truth.”

“I would never,” Emma objected dramatically, holding a hand over her heart as he had so often done when feigning injury to his pride.

“Good,” he replied, taking a step even closer. “Then tell me, love, when you said our kiss was a one time thing, did you mean it? And if you did mean it when you said it, do you feel the same now?”

His close proximity was making her feel a little less confident than the facade she was putting on, but Emma didn’t break the heady eye contact he’d made, a beautiful shade of blue, looking into her, reading her. And how was the kohl that rimmed his eyes unaffected by the water? She might have to pillage some of that from him, it put her realm’s cosmetics to shame. God he was gorgeous as the moonlight shined down on them, she’d never noticed the hint of red to the scruff along his sharp jawline. “That’s two questions,” she murmured breathily as she thought of nibbling along that jawline.

“Shall I rephrase?”

“Oh, the hell with it, I never meant it,” she confessed as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her bare chest against his and kissing him soundly.

As their lips collided hungrily, over and over, Emma was pretty sure she heard Hook mumbling thanks to the gods. She felt a little of that same relief, as she finally admitted that denying herself this thing that she wanted was ridiculous now that everyone was safe. Running her fingers through his thick hair, she gave it a little tug, angling his head so she could deepen the kiss. The groan he elicited was sinful and it kind of made Emma want to rub herself all over him.

Instead she ran her other hand over his chest, deciding to take her time, she’d wanted to feel that chest hair since the first time she’d seen it proudly on display. It wasn’t quite what she expected since they were both wet and it was matted to his chest. She smirked when he jumped, his hand tightening involuntarily in her hair as she ran a thumb over his nipple.

“A little sensitive, Captain?” she teased, looking up at him through her long lashes.

“Aye,” Hook chuckled, “‘s been awhile.”

It’d been a long dry spell for her as well. And it’d been even longer since feeling any true emotion when with a man. It had merely been scratching an itch for so long that she was a little scared what this all meant. The tingling, unadulterated want she felt in every nerve of her body far outweighed the fear though. “Touch me,” she whispered as she wrapped both arms around his waist.

“Bloody Hell, you’ll be the death of me, woman,” he muttered as he kissed her once more. He wrapped his good arm around her and pulled her in close. Trailing a path from her mouth to her ear, he bit gently on her lobe, and it was his turn to smirk as a shiver ran through Emma’s entire body. “Would you be opposed to taking this back on land?”

“We just got clean, I don’t want sand in every crack and crevice,” she giggled while wrinkling her nose.

“Aye, that would be less than optimal,” Hook agreed, ��though the place I have in mind won’t get your nether regions sandy.”

“What’s wrong with right here, right now?” Emma challenged. She was pulled up short when Hook’s cheeks went pink and he scratched behind his ear as he did so often when he was feeling slightly unsure of himself. Truth be told, Emma found it cute, although she’d never tell him that, she doubted the fearsome pirate captain wanted cute to be correlated to his reputation.

“It’s just, I’d rather…”

Brushing the hair from his forehead, Emma smoothed her thumb over the worry line that creased his brow. “What’s wrong?” she asked. When he made no attempt to answer, Emma decided to employ his own tactics against him. “Try something new, Hook. It’s called trust.”

Emma internally cheered as one of Hook’s mega watt smiles overtook his face. The smile that showed those adorable (another word she was sure he would not want associated with him) dimples, and crinkled the corners of his eyes.

“Touché lass,” he conceded, “I’d rather be able to have use of all my appendages.”

Emma raised an eyebrow, gazing very obviously in the direction of his most manly appendage. “Ummm, it felt like it was working just fine to me.”

“Christ, Swan,” he chuckled, “I assure you, everything is ready, willing, and able in that department. I’d like my hook.”

Emma’s jaw dropped and her eyes widened as she thought, not for the first time, about what that hook would feel like against her heated skin.

“It’s okay, love, if it repulses you, I can just wear the brace without the hook.”

Emma shook her head, a frown downturning her brows and her lips, “Stop-”

“But I assure you,” Hook continued without letting Emma speak, “if the hook repulses you, the wound will surely-”

Emma’s hand over his mouth was more effective in shutting him up. “Stop it,” she demanded, “right now.”

Hook was a little taken aback by being commanded by the fiery version of Emma, he’d seen her fiery side before, and he liked it, he liked every part of her. He wasn’t taken aback by her fire, rather he wasn’t used to being bossed around. He was the boss. But as he stood there, with her hand over his mouth, he realized he’d follow her orders any day.

“Do you think I’m unaware that you don’t have a left hand?”

Hook shook his head in the negative, since her hand was still covering his mouth.

“Do you think I’m so shallow as to be repulsed by your hook or your brace or your wound?”

Hook took longer to answer this time, contemplating what he’d said and what she was asking. He supposed his words may have left room for misinterpretation. Slowly shaking his head no again, Emma removed her hand from his mouth.

“Good,” she stated simply, reaching for his left wrist before he even realized she'd made a move.

His head spun when he felt Emma’s touch upon his scarred flesh and his knee-jerk reaction was to pull away from her grasp. He struggled to find the words through the haze. “It was not my intent to imply you are shallow, Emma. It is my own reticence.”

“Trust me,” she whispered as she took his left wrist again. Wrapping both of her hands around his forearm and blunt wrist. Emma repeated the words comfortingly as she placed the arm he was so ashamed of between her breasts and held it there, where he could feel her heart beating.

“Your hook, your brace, or just this,” she squeezed his wrist, “has no bearing on how I feel about you. I care about you, Hook.” Her voice sounded shaky, even in her own ears. “You came back for me, you helped save my son, you make me feel wanted, you make me feel good about being me.” Removing one hand from his damaged skin, Emma wrapped it around the back of his neck and pulled his forehead to hers before closing her eyes and continuing. “I’m not ready for this part, and I apologize, because that is my hang up.”

“Hang up?” he questions.

“A simpleton’s way of saying reticence,” she answers with a small smile before continuing. “I hate words, they make things real, and messy, and although I mean everything I’m saying, that’s all I can handle right now. Please just…” she inhaled sharply as she tried to articulate her plea to let this be enough.

“I understand,” he whispered, voice just as shaky as Emma’s. He placed his hand on her cheek, lovingly caressing the softness of her lower lip. “And I do trust you, love.” He pecked her lips once before continuing. “I know you don’t like words, that much was clear from the start,” he said with a knowing smile and another peck to her lips, “but I’d like to respond, if you’re amenable?”

Emma nodded her head, eyes still closed, still reeling from her own confessions.

Hook kissed her gently again before prodding her to open her eyes. “I want you to see the truth of my words.”

Emma inhaled deeply, then opened her eyes to look at him. She bit her lip, a nervous habit from her teen years, as she waited for his words.

“I want to be the one to bite this lip,” Hook growled, as he used his thumb to massage her lip from her teeth.

“Truth,” Emma giggled despite herself, nodding to let him know her lie detector was working.

Hook waggled his eyebrows and smirked at her, before resuming his more resolute demeanor. “I have never felt more naturally drawn to a woman than I do with you. Your fire and passion brought my dormant heart back to life, and for the first time in decades upon decades, I want to be a better version of myself, a version that has been long forgotten, the old Killian Jones who was an honorable man, with good intentions, and hope in his heart, not revenge.”

“You may have lost your way for a time, but you’re still an honorable man, Killian.”

“Gods above,” Hook murmured as he wrapped both arms around Emma and pulled her into nothing more than a loving embrace. He was in love with her, but now was not the time. Emma would undoubtedly run if any grand declarations were made. He hadn’t felt this vulnerable maybe ever and he longed to hear her call him by his given name again.

“Emma? Hook?! What the hell?”

Emma froze in Hook’s embrace as the familiar, and annoying, and currently very judgmental voice sounded from the shore.

“Bollocks,” Hook cursed. “How shall we handle this, darling?”

“Can we just pretend he’s not there,” she deadpanned, face still buried in her neck, trying to keep reality at bay.

“Somehow I doubt that will work, but you are The Savior, you could give it a go.”

Emma sighed deeply before turning around in Hook’s arms, her back to his chest, so she could face their interloper. She placed her hands over his hand and wrist where they were wrapped around her waist. It was still dark as she faced Neal, so hopefully he wouldn’t see the eyeroll she’d just given him when she saw this silhouette of his hands on his hips like some outraged father.

“Good morning, Neal,” she called to the shore cheerfully. “I must have lost track of time, I didn’t realize it was already your shift for bathing.”

“It’s not,” he muttered, “it’s still the middle- not the fucking point,” he interrupted himself. “It’s not your shift either, what the hell are you doing out here?”

As much as Emma wanted to tell Neal that she and Hook were doing exactly what he assumed they were doing, she abstained. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” she snapped.

“It is my business,” he snarled back, “we’re supposed to be here for Henry.”

“Don’t you dare!” Emma started, voice rising with rightfully earned indignation. “We came here to save Henry who is now safe and sound aboard the Jolly, but the reason we are here is because your deranged fiancée dragged him through a portal to sacrifice him to a madman.”

“So you’re just going to throw away any chance of rekindling what we had, of being a family with Henry; so you can get laid by a dirty pirate.”

Emma pulled Hook’s arms around her tighter, keeping him anchored to her when she felt him start to pull away. She didn’t need these two getting into it again.

“Oi! I bathe quite frequently, mate,” Hook quipped. “I was doing so when Swan and I happened upon each other.”

“Shut up, Hook,” Neal retorted.

“The one good thing that came from us, was Henry, but our relationship is long over. There is nothing to rekindle,” Emma sighed. She didn’t want to be mean, but she needed Neal to understand that she wanted nothing to do with him romantically. And she was not going to be lectured by the man who’d already blown up her life once. “Maybe one day, you and I can be friends for Henry’s sake, but that is the most we will ever be.”

“Ems, you don’t mean that. You’re under his thrall, it’s not real.”

Emma completely ignored the bait, choosing instead to stop this exchange in its tracks. “Hook and I are kind of busy,” she said with a lighthearted tone, while turning back around to face Hook. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she called over her shoulder, ”If there’s nothing else, we’ll see you later.”

“You mark my words Emma, when he abandons you after taking what he wants, you’re going to look back and regret this moment.”

“He’s stuck around through more shit than you ever did,” she called back, looking straight into Hook’s eyes.

Properly dismissed, Neal stormed off, muttering curses the whole way.

Emma dropped her head to Hook’s chest, exhaling with relief. “That felt good,” she said.

“Well done, lass, though I’ve yet to see you fail, so I am not surprised Baelfire is no match for you. But perhaps we should make our way back as well,” Hook suggested. “I do believe he will be stirring the pot, come morning. You may want to be there to head off the storm.”

“I don’t care if he goes back to tell everyone, it’s not like it’s a lie, and at least this way, they will know we’re safe, and not missing. With any luck, we’ll be left alone for a bit,” she purred.

“Are you sure your parents will approve of you spending time with a dirty, one-handed pirate with a drinking problem?”

Emma’s head jerked up and she eyed him scrutinously. “First, you need to get Pan and Neal out of your head. Second, the only person who gets to decide who I spend my time with, or how I spend it, is me. And third, how do you know I don’t want you to be dirty,” she teased as she took command of his mouth with her own.

Not giving him a chance to think further, Emma quickly kissed him again. She slid her tongue past his lips, rolling it against Hook’s, who was quick to reciprocate. She wrapped her lips around his tongue and sucked on it, eliciting one of the sexiest noises she’d ever heard. It was half growling and half begging for more. The buoyancy helped him to easily lift her and she instinctively surrounded his body with her legs.

Hook broke the kiss, in favor of exploration. His hot mouth trailed down Emma’s neck, licking here and nibbling there, never too rough, he didn’t wish to mark her, at least not where it would be visible. He palmed one of her breasts with his hand while running his thumb over her already pebbled peak. “Gods you are perfect,” he murmured before taking her other breast in his mouth and alternating between gently suckling and the graze of his teeth.

Emma moaned softly in pleasure and torment as Hook worked her up, her clit throbbed and she longed to feel his hand or his mouth between her legs. Grabbing a fistful of his hair, she pulled his head back and gazed into his eyes, want and desire evident in her pupils which were blown wide and the way her tongue licked salaciously over her bottom lip before she bit down on it.

She unwrapped her legs from around Hook’s torso, in favor of standing again. Sliding her hands down his back, she squeezed his ass cheeks before pressing her body against his. “I want you,” she whispered when she felt his hardness against her stomach. Emma reached between them to wrap her hand around his thick length.

“Swan,” Hook choked out, pulling her hand gently away from his overly eager cock. “I really don’t want this to be over before it starts.”

Emma smiled knowingly, the very thought of making him come early amping up her need. “Okay, you lead,” she agreed.

“Come with me.” Hook led her toward the far end of the pond, which was actually far larger than she’d realized. They rounded a large looming rock which cloaked the entrance to a small cave by the shore.

“You just know all the secret spots, don’t you?”

“I discovered many hiding spots over the years I spent on this cursed island,” Hook acknowledged. “I usually walk to this side of the water’s edge to deposit all my belongings before bathing. One can never be too safe with the keeping of his hook.” Extending his hand to Emma, he led her out of the water and into the shelter.

They entered far enough to have a little privacy, but not so far as to be pitched in blackness. Hook pulled her over to a natural, rock-formed shelf. “Do you want a towel, milady? Perhaps my shirt?”

“I want you,” Emma growled, yanking on his hand and pulling him flush against her body and attacking his mouth again.

“Mmmm, as you wish,” he uttered between ardent kisses.

Emma whined when he broke away from her again, “Hook!”

“Patience, darling,” he teased. Then he quickly grabbed his jacket and his towel, laying first the jacket down on the cave floor, followed by the towel. “So you don’t get sand in every crack and crevice,” he advised with a mock bow.

Emma laughed at his naked bow before tackling him to the makeshift bed and straddling his hips. She wove the fingers of her left hand with his right, and wrapped her other hand around his wrist before pinning them above his head.

She didn’t miss the way he jumped when she embraced his wrist, a fleeting look of helplessness crossing over his face. She kissed him softly, tenderly, wanting to calm his nerves about his perceived flaw. When she felt his body relax against hers, she started to trail kisses across the line of his jaw before veering back up to his ear. “Has anyone ever told you, you are beyond gorgeous?” she whispered before sucking his earlobe into her mouth.

“I tell myself this all the time, but it does sound much lovelier on your luscious lips.”

“These lips?” Emma asked, sitting up just slightly and running her tongue along her bottom lip.

“Aye, the very ones,” Hook struggled to get out of her hold, as he tried leaning up to taste her lips.

Emma kept a firm hold on him though, enjoying this little bit of control. She could feel his cock against her ass, hard for her, twitching each time she nibbled and sucked at his skin. She continued to trail kisses downward, along his neck, across his pecs. His hips thrusted upwards when she bit down on his nipple and flicked her tongue over the sensitive flesh. “Patience,” she mimicked his earlier command.

Hook’s melodramatic exhale made her giggle as she scooted further down his body, gently rubbing her wet core along his cock. “Bloody hell!” Hook cursed while deftly flipping them over.

“Don’t you want to see what else these luscious lips can do?” she asked with a wicked grin.

“Gods above, I do. But I swear you will unman me the moment you wrap your lips around me.”

Emma smirked at him, eyes alight with lust.

“You little minx, you like that idea don’t you?”

“Maybe,” she admitted, a confession really, despite the ambiguity of the answer. She’d already resumed stroking him.

“Fuck,” Hook hissed at her touch. He was torn between his ego needing to pleasure her first and his baser instincts demanding he let her do her worst.

Emma watched Hook, saw him struggle with the decision, his eyes squeezing shut when she ran her thumb over his tip. Without waiting for his answer, Emma rolled them back over and licked from his base to his tip before sucking the head of his cock into her mouth while continuing to pump him.

Her clit ached as she reveled in the wrecked expression on his face, Hook was watching her every move, lip pinned between his teeth as he struggled to hold out. She knew he was close when his hand balled into a white knuckled fist on his stomach and she gently cupped his balls to massage them. The sound that left his mouth was positively feral as he came hard, warm and wet in her mouth.

She savored the moment, he hadn’t lasted long, and she’d been the one to do that to him. But that was all she had, a fleeting moment before she was being rolled to her back.

Hook held her in his blunted arm and dove in for a kiss, not caring at all that his taste was still on her tongue. He smiled against her lips when he felt her spreading her legs beneath him. “Eager, are we?” he asked between kisses.

“Don’t tease,” she panted into his mouth.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Hook slowly caressed his hand down her neck, stopping to play with her breasts for just a moment before continuing down to where he knew she was desperate to be touched. He parted her lips with two fingers and slid his middle finger into the warm wetness waiting for him. “Gods, Swan, you’re soaked.” His cock was already coming back to life as he thought about sliding into her wet heat.

Emma’s eyes rolled shut as Hook massaged her clit with her slippery wetness and any response she could’ve made was forgotten. Her mouth parted with an involuntary whimper when he switched it up, suddenly, but oh so easily slipping two fingers deep inside her. She contracted around his fingers, then pushed down, welcoming the penetration.

Hook fucked her with his fingers, circling his thumb over her clit, while watching her cheeks flush pink and her breasts bounce as she rode his hand. Longing to taste her, he repositioned himself between her legs, chuckling at her whine of protest when he had to stop for a moment.

“Oh fuck,” she panted when he resumed loving her clit, this time with his tongue. He alternated between licks and flicks and sucking. Emma’s head spun dizzily, she’d experienced oral sex, but apparently she had never experienced mind blowing oral sex. She threaded both hands into his hair and tried desperately not to be too rough. “Oh my god, I’m gonna… I’m gonna…”

Hook chose that moment to thrust his fingers back inside her and Emma was gone, she came harder than she ever had, warm and tingly and wet as Hook continued to thrust his fingers into her and suck on her clit. She saw stars or dots or something behind her eyelids and there was a rush of waves nearby, or maybe that was just the adrenaline coursing in her ears. The little aftershocks pulsing and throbbing in her clit were heavenly and oh my god, that was fucking amazing, she thought.

“Get up here,” she purred, pulling on his hair.

“It seems someone was just as primed as I was,” Hook smirked as he slid back up the length of her body.

Emma silenced his smugness by wrapping her legs around waist and flipping him to his back. The rush of air that left Hook’s chest made her chuckle as she placed her hands on his cheeks and whispered to him between kisses. “Well, you’re very, very skilled,” she praised.

“You set the bar very high, love.”

Emma beamed at his compliment, her cheeks warming. She wasn’t sure what it was about this man that made her feel unlike she’d ever felt with another man. Like she was special and desired, it made her feel sexually free in a way she never had. Sitting astride Hook’s solid body, she caressed her hands along his chest, exploring his now dry chest hair, it was just as thick and glorious as she’d imagined.

Emma could see the scars littering his flesh and she’d felt more when they’d been in the water and her hands had explored the expanse of his back. She wondered how rough his life had been to have this many physical scars. Her heart constricted a bit at that thought, especially already knowing he had just as many emotional scars as she did. She was both taken aback and a little frightened when she realized she wanted to know so much more about Hook. Maybe it was time to stop running from good things, Emma thought, her mind once again weighing the pros and cons of a relationship. Her train of thought was lewdly interrupted by a thrust of Hook’s hips, his hardness tapping at her back.

“Ready so soon, pirate,” she said in a husky tone while rising up on her knees and guiding him to her core. She ran the tip of his cock through her wet folds, both of them moaning with unadulterated lust.

“Fuck yes,” he growled, thrusting his hips upward again.

Emma cried out as his tip slipped inside her, a wave of arousal pooling and her belly tightening with want. She slid down his generous length, slowly savoring the drag against her slippery walls. She planted both hands on his chest and stilled her movements when he was fully seated, adjusting to his size.

“You alright, love?” Hook asked, squeezing her hip gently while he circled his thumb over her hip bone.

She nodded her head and opened her eyes, which she didn’t realize she’d shut, to gaze down at the gorgeous man below her. “You feel good,” she praised, lifting her hips and sinking back down on to him. Emma set a languid pace, delighting in the sensation of fucking, the drag along her walls, angling herself so he hit that spot.

“That’s it, lass, take what you want,” Hook encouraged as Emma rode him; slowly at first, then building in pace as her cheeks flushed and a light sheen of sweat broke out across her forehead. He wished, not for the first time tonight, to be able to touch her with two hands. He encouraged her to touch her breasts as he changed course to play with her clit.

Emma’s thighs began to burn as she worked to bring them both to that sweet edge of release, and the delicious friction between them built higher and higher. She palmed her breasts, tweaking her nipples and watched as Hook thumbed her clit in time with her thrusts. His hooded eyes roamed her body, and he bit down on his lip as he watched his cock disappear inside her heat over and over. She liked watching him watch her and the small grunts he gave each time she impaled herself and ground against him were hot. Emma found herself at the edge of bliss again and she whimpered as Hook began thrusting up into her.

Hook was having a hard time controlling his ardor, he wanted to flip them and plunge deeply into her. She was a vision, flushed pink, sweaty, breasts bouncing as she rode him to the edge. And then he heard her...

“Come with me, Killian,” she panted.

...and he was undone. The plea in her tone as she said his name and the massage of her walls against his cock as she began to come, ended him. He came hard and hot with a cry of her name, filling her with his seed until it began to spill as she continued to ride him through both of their releases.

As euphoria traveled throughout her body, Emma slumped into Hook’s body. She’d never felt so gratified as her entire being thrummed with bliss. Hook turned them to their sides and kissed her fervently. Wrapping both her arms around him, Emma gave as good as she got, their tongues and lips engaging lovingly. She lost track of all time as they lay together, parting only when they needed breath. “That was-”

Hook covered her mouth much as she had covered his earlier. “Don’t,” he whispered with a pleading look in his eyes.

Emma wrapped her fingers around his palm and removed his hand, giggling quietly. “I didn’t mean it the first time, and I damn sure wouldn’t mean it this time,” she assured him, noting how his shoulders sagged in relief. “I was going to say that was amazing… brilliant,” she murmured into his ear.

Hook chuckled, remembering the time he’d said those words to her. “Aye, Swan, we still make quite the team.”

Emma could only smile at the seamless harmony that flowed between them. And she kissed him once more before snuggling into him.

As a sated exhaustion made itself known in her body, Emma rejoiced that it was still dark outside of the cave. A vigorous yawn and stretch wracked her body, and Killian chuckled lightly again.

“Did I wear you out?”

Emma laughed as the same yawn tore through Hook, no sooner had he spoken his teasing words. “I think we wore each other out,” she snickered.

“Aye lass, I believe you’re right. How about we get washed up and head back to the Jolly? I’ll give you the captain’s quarters, even though you lost.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Brag much?”

“What is the fun in winning a wager if I cannot gloat?”

“Such a pirate,” she muttered before rolling him to his back again. “How about we share the captain’s quarters?”

“Deal,” Hook accepted without hesitation.

A half hour later, they were standing in the cave, bathed, and mostly dressed, Hook had gone to get Emma’s clothes for her from the opposite shoreline.

“Shall we?” Hook asked, offering Emma his hand. He frowned when she made no attempt to move.

“I’d rather…” she started, a blush coloring her cheeks.

“Ah, I understand,” Hook said, quickly understanding. “Shall we head back in separate directions? Or perhaps, I’ll just stay here for a bit and come back later in the morning.”

Emma rolled her eyes again, this time with a bit of frustration, as she placed her hands on her hips. “That is not what I was going to say.”

Hook raised an eyebrow in question, waiting for her to explain.

“Has nothing I’ve said tonight gotten through to you? Or did that mind blowing sex make you forget?” She took his heavier than expected leather duster from where he had it draped over his arm and turned around to lay it out on the cave floor.

Turning to face Hook again, she cupped his face in both hands. “Let’s recap, I like how you make me feel, I’m not worried about everyone finding out, best oral ever, sensational sex, no running away. I fancy you, Killian.” Emma finished her statement with a gentle kiss.

The gobsmacked look on Hook’s face made her laugh out loud. “I was going to say I’d rather spend the rest of the night here with you. We already know everyone else will know we’re safe. Even if Neal doesn’t outright blab; if Mary Margaret and David start to worry, he won’t hesitate to spill what he knows.”

“You fancy me, love?”

Despite heavily stroking his ego by admitting he was the best she’d ever been with, it figured the part he’d pick up on was the closest she’d get to any kind of outright confession of feelings. Emma smacked her hand to her forehead. “Yes, Killian, I fancy you. Don’t get all cocky about it.”

“On my honor, I’ll not get cocky,” he promised before leaning in to kiss her, “as I quite fancy you as well. But you already know that.”

Laying down on his jacket, the two snuggled together, Emma in panties and Hook’s shirt and Hook in his birthday suit.

“You needed to get naked again to go to sleep?” Emma asked with a little sarcasm in her tone.

“I’ll have you know that style and comfort do not go hand in hand, Swan. Those leathers, though appealing to the eye, do not make for great sleep clothes. Besides, all pirate’s know the only way to sleep when there’s a lovely lass in his bed, is in the nude. You know… easy access.”

“Why am I not surprised by that, Killian?”

“I’ll never tire of hearing you call me that,” he answered.

“Killian,” she whispered.

“Aye, love?”

“Nothing, I just wanted you to hear me say it again.”

A boyish smile broke out over Killian’s face as he pulled her in tighter to his side. “Good night, Swan.”

“Goodnight, Killian.”

The End

Tagging some lovely shipmates - please let me know if you don’t want to be tagged - or if you’re reading and want me to tag you.

@laschatzi @qualitycoffeethings @hookedonapirate @wordsmith-storyweaver @kmomof4 @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @wyntereyez @hooklineandswan @teamhook @let-it-raines @whimsicallyenchantedrose @spartanguard @tiganasummertree@apromisednightcap @xemmaloveskillianx @elizabeethan @cocohook38 @optomisticgirl @darkcolinodonorgasm @jennjenn615 @timeless-love-story @girl-in-a-tiny-box @thesschesthair @galadriel26 @ultraluckycatnd @lifeinahole27 @therooksshiningknight @kday426 @djlbg @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo @lfh1226-linda @delightfully-difficult-pirate @thejollyswan @csalltheway @xarandomdreamx @vvbooklady1256 @withheartfulloflove @resident-of-storybrooke @mcakers @gingerchangeling @searchingwardrobes

#csnlny #cs fan fic #cs ff #captain swan #cs is my otp forever

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bonjour-rainycity · 3 years

Text

Double Heart | Chapter Eight ~ Haldir

|previous part|

Pairing: Haldir x OFC

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 3620

Warnings: Mild language, tw ptsd

**Read on Ao3 under the user “bonjour_rainycity” if you prefer!**

A/n Happy early Thursday morning! Hope you have a good day <3

Cosima’s right arm grips around me like a vice. Her left arm rests gingerly on her leg. Baranor did what he could, but I imagine it is still painful to move the arm around and irritate the injury. To jostle her as little as possible, I ride as smoothly as I can. Faervel seems to sense that he needs to put extra care into the force with which his hooves hit the ground. When we hit an unavoidable jolt, I hear Cosima’s sharp intake of breath and instantly regret causing her pain. At one point, the hand curled against my stomach begins to shake, and I want to stop the horse. I want to pause and look her in the eye and swear to do better next time. I’ll watch more, fight harder, move faster, keep her safe. I want to explain to her my revitalized resolve—nothing will get to her now. She doesn’t need to worry, because I’ll do better.

But of course, I can’t do any of that.

And I definitely shouldn’t. It’s strange, feeling this strongly about the well-being of one measly human. But in truth, I’ve become quite fond of Cosima in our short time together. Maybe it’s because I don’t spend much time with humans, but I find her humor refreshing, her kindness captivating, and her wide range of emotions infuriatingly confusing. I can’t stop myself from seeking her out.

And I can’t stop myself from hoping she decides to return home with us.

I sigh. I should send her to ride with Orophin. I’m paying too much attention to her, thinking too much, allowing myself to become distracted. But the idea of sending her away, of distancing her from my care, makes me to tense. I have a feeling I would be just as distracted if she weren’t behind me. Inwardly, I remind myself to focus on my surroundings, putting it into the frame of keeping my companions safe. The closer we get to the Imladris border—and thus their border patrols—the lower the likelihood of us running into more orcs. As it is, we are too far away for Elrond’s patrols for comfort and I urge myself to remain vigilant. I can’t take any chances.

There’s a noise to my right—just pebbles dislodged by the quick feet of a rabbit, but Cosima’s human senses can’t find the source of the moment. She jumps, clinging even tighter to me, and looks around wildly, breath racing. Without thinking, I take one hand from the reins and wrap it around the hand she holds in a fist against my stomach.

Elves don’t usually engage in physical contact outside of family and romantic partners. At most, warriors will clasp each other at the elbow briefly to commemorate a job well done or to celebrate a victory. But she is human, I reason, trying to puzzle out my strange response. Humans touch each other all the time—they hug each other, hold each other, press kisses to the cheeks of those they care for. Part of comforting a human is offering them a physical lifeline, something tangible and solid that they can hold on to.

“It’s alright,” I try to soothe, not holding out hope that I’m any good at it. The wardens I’ve dedicated my life to don’t usually require soothing. “It’s just a rabbit—I saw it running off. It climbed over the rocks and caused a few of the smaller ones to fall down the hill.”

I wish I could turn around and face her. I want to look into her eyes, study her face, and see if my words have had any effect. I want to know that the fear has left her, see the relief of security smooth the tension in her brow.

She takes a couple deep breaths, and I encourage myself to take them with her. It never hurts to settle one’s heart. Then, a pressure against my shoulder blade. She’s resting her head there, I realize with a start. I stiffen automatically, not at all used to the contact. I try to relax. If it’s what she needs, I can try it. Once I get over the initial shock, I don’t dislike this feeling at all—in fact, it’s quite nice to be here for her like this.

“Okay,” she breathes. She sounds exhausted.

I weigh my options. Could we chance stopping early tonight? Would the rest result in quicker progress tomorrow? No, I decide, knowing the original plan is the best. Each of us will feel better once we are securely inside Elrond’s borders. If that means some discomfort now, so be it.

With that in mind, I push Faervel to go even faster, wanting to race towards Imladris with all haste.

{***}

I see the tension in everyone’s shoulders when we stop to make camp. Each of them carries the weight of this morning’s attack, the human’s most visibly. Since the moment Cosima left my horse, she’s been at Alexander’s side. I was right about human comforting tactics—his arm hangs around her shoulders and she lays her head against his chest. The sight is strange, and a little disquieting. Elves are so unused to seeing such blatant displays of physical affection.

For his part, Alexander also looks quite shaken. His hair, usually well-kept, sticks in all directions and his eyes dart from side to side constantly, never finding rest. He clings to Cosima as tightly as she holds on to him. While the rest of us are seasoned in the unpleasantries of battle, this is their first encounter with violence—that they can recall, that is.

I clear my throat, drawing the attention of the camp. “I will stand first watch with Baranor. Everyone else, get some sleep.” I address my brothers directly, then. “I will wake you at the halfway point.”

We waste no time. Baranor draws his sword and takes the East side of camp. I mirror his stance on the West. We found a relatively secure spot for the night — a small valley with a clearing of grass backed up to a rocky slope of mountainside. There is only one entrance to where the others sleep, unless someone were to jump from the rocks above. To prevent this from happening, Baranor and I pick points high enough that we could see any attempts to either enter our camp or ambush one of our watch stations. Before I know it, the sun sinks over the horizon and we are plunged into darkness.

{***}

Baranor wakes the others, and once Rumil comes to take my spot, I trek the short distance to the center of our camp. I lay on the now unoccupied mat next to the mountainside — across the small area, Baranor has already passed into sleep. Just as I stretch out, getting comfortable, my eyes meet Cosima’s.

She stares at the rock across the small cleaning from her, expression distant and glazed.

I call her name quietly, getting her attention without waking Alexander or disturbing Baranor. She should have nodded off hours ago. “Can you not sleep?”

She shakes her head and, even from here, I can see the exhaustion in her eyes. “It’s silly,” she whispers. I raise my eyebrows, hoping she’ll explain. “I know we’re relatively safe. I know there are always two people on lookout and I know you all have plenty of weapons. But I’m still so scared.” Her voice wavers. “I can’t remember a time in my life when I was attacked like that. Every time I close my eyes I see those…things.” She bites out the word, shuddering. “What were they?”

I sigh. I should have known she wouldn’t find peaceful rest in her current state. I prop myself up on an elbow, trying to make myself seem as assured as possible. My wardens tend to feel more confident when I seem confident—maybe it will help her, too. “They were orcs, some of the most evil beings in this realm.”

“And they wanted to kill us?”

“Yes.”

“Why? What did we do?”

“Nothing,” I shrug, at a loss for the reasoning of those foul beasts. “They are bred for evil, they desire it above all else. If they have the chance to kill, they will take it.”

She shivers again and throws a look over her shoulder towards the entrance of the clearing. “That’s terrifying.”

“They will not get that close to you again,” I swear. I really shouldn’t. I can’t say for sure—they’re no way I can be absolutely positive an orc won’t attack her again. But I do know that as long as it is within my power, I will do everything possible to make what I just said the truth.

She raises an eyebrow dubiously and I know that, even in her fearful and tired state, she sees through the logic in my statement. Even though I was just questioning the validity of my words, I find myself with the overwhelming need to prove them to her—and to myself. I stand, pulling my mat with me, and step around her, dropping the mat between where she lays and the entrance to the clearing.

“There,” I nod, laying back on my mat. “Anything that wants to get to you will have to challenge me first.”

Breath hitches in her throat. Her lip quivers, a shine glints in her eyes. I freeze. Oh Valar, where did I go wrong this time? But when she addresses me—albeit in a shaky voice—she sounds pleased. “You don’t have to do that.”

Relieved that she has one, accepted my offer and two, doesn’t seem to resent me for it, I smile. “It’s my job. Now, please close your eyes and try to fall asleep. I will wake you if there is need.”

She wavers for a moment and I put a hint of my Marchwarden sternness behind the gaze I level back. The edges of her lips quirk into a tentative smile and her eyes slide shut. She pulls her—my— cloak tighter around her shoulders and, in a voice so quiet I can barely hear it, whispers, “thank you.”

I settle on my back, keeping my sword and bow within easy reach, as I do every night. And, though I just told Cosima to go to sleep, I stay awake longer than I intend, watching the stars and listening to the sounds of the mountains. She was right—there is much beauty here. There is no civilization for miles, no hints of light to obscure the vastness of the constellations. As an elfling, I used to love staring at the stars. Even in my early days of the guard and battle, I would pass long nights gazing at the sky. When did I stop? When did the love of beauty for beauty’s sake leave me?

I hear the deep, even breaths indicating a human has fallen asleep and know that Cosima has finally given in to her exhaustion. I follow not long after, the soft light of the stars falling away behind my closed eyes.

{***}

The day is marked by easy travel. By my estimate, we will reach Imladris sometime tomorrow evening. It cannot come quickly enough.

Just as the sun is starting to set, we come across a small cave I have used in the past when traveling with various companies. Orophin sees it too and gives a triumphant call from his spot in the line. A cave means we can chance a fire, which means we can have meat tonight—if we can catch it.

About five hundred feet from the cave, I dismount, signaling for Orophin to do the same. I hand the reins to Cosima, give Faervel a quick pat, and raise my voice loudly enough for the others to hear. “We’ll make sure the cave is clear—the rest of you, wait here.”

The nerves, which seemed dormant in Cosima for the majority of the day, creep back into her features. Her hold on the reins tightens. I attempt to reassure her. “We’ll be back in five minutes. Stay with the others.”

I want to stay longer, to stay by her side until she feels safe, but I know it will be better for everyone once we’re settled in the cave. So I draw my sword and join Orophin at the yawning entrance.

The cave is too small to be used long-term, so it is commonly claimed by travelers who only intend to stay the night. The ceiling is plenty high for humans, but as elves, Orophin and I must take care not to stretch too high. In some places, I can feel the smooth rock graze the top of my head, dragging strands of hair out of place. But aside from that mild annoyance, no threats lie inside and I hurry to return to the others and give them the good news.

Rumil, knowing the expression on my face, grins and hops down from Roch, setting the horse to graze while he excitedly enters the cave to drop his packs. I roll my eyes, though not without fondness, at my brother’s exuberance. I quicken my pace, eager to settle the others for the night and go hunting so we can have a proper meal. As soon as I set Cosima’s feet on the ground and put Faervel to graze, I can go in search of rabbits or squirrels.

I am a few feet from Cosima when Alexander steps into my line of sight. He reaches his arms up to his friend. She smiles warmly at him, places her hands on his shoulders, and lets him ease her down from the horse. It’s a bit jerky, honestly, and I worry that her feet hit the ground with too much force. One has to be careful when helping another down from a higher place—if not, the person could suffer injury. Careless.

“Alexander,” I call. He looks put out but nonetheless inclines his head in my direction. “Leave your supplies in the cave and then meet me out here. I am taking you with me to hunt.”

He sputters. “What? No! I’m tired and I don’t even want to learn how to hunt. Take one of your brothers.”

I feel my eyes narrow. “Regardless if you would like to face the facts or not, you are in this world. And as such, you will need to learn skills to aid your time here, however long that may be. Cosima has learned how to care for the horses and ride and scout her surroundings. You will learn to hunt.” The human tries to protest again, and I raise my chin, none too pleased with having to justify my decision. “As long as you are under my care you will follow my orders. Am I clear?”

Beside him, Cosima’s eyes grow wide. She darts her gaze between myself and Alexander, watching our exchange. I raise an eyebrow at the man. It will not be me who breaks first. I have centuries of practice.

Predictably, Alexander cracks, breaking my gaze and nodding stiffly. He pulls away from Cosima and stalks into the cave, taking a few bags with him.

Baranor passes me on his way up the path—I’d nearly forgotten he was here. He lowers his voice to a volume the humans won’t detect. “He is not one of your wardens, Haldir.”

“As long as he travels in my company, he travels under my command,” I grit back, more frustration in my tone than is necessary. I work to push the emotion aside and stride forward, dealing with Faervel while I wait for Alexander.

Cosima hasn’t left. She stands, dwarfed by Faervel’s tall frame, gently brushing out his coat. There’s tension in her shoulders and I approach her almost hesitantly. I think I angered her.

She quickly confirms my suspicions.

“You didn’t have to be so rude to him.” She doesn’t take her eyes from my horse.

I purse my lips. I just need to make her understand. “He was being insubordinate.”

“Okay, but he’s not your subordinate,” she shoots back, voice rising in irritation.

I don’t quite know what to say. These humans don’t know how my job works, so their reaction is to be expected….But even Baranor commented on my behavior…was I wrong? Even if I did perhaps misuse my tone, I still can’t have someone openly refusing to do what I say. It’s a matter of security. Say he disobeyed me in the heat of battle? Someone could pay for his choice with their life. I can’t allow situations to pass now that would embolden him to disobey me later.

Cosima sighs, shaking her head. When she speaks, her voice is tight with disapproval. “I’ll finish the horses. You get to your hunt.”

I swallow. It seems I’ve angered her to the point where she wishes to cast me from her presence. I must respect that, then. “I will send Rumil to guard you.”

She nods once, still not looking at me.

I spare her one last glance then make towards the cave, feeling very unsure of myself. As Marchwarden, I’ve learned to make difficult, sometimes unpopular, decisions. People’s reaction to them usually doesn’t bother me…but something about the way Cosima wouldn’t even look at me, the frustration in her tone…it doesn’t sit well.

Rumil is already at the mouth of the cave, headed outside with a snack for Roch. I instruct him to stay with Cosima while I am gone, and he agrees easily. The two of them have been friends from the start. I’d wager he has never upset her as I have.

Alexander is waiting, too, looking annoyed. I try to remind myself to be nicer towards him, but can’t quite manage it. Something about his demeanor just irks me. But the hunting excursion will be good, I remind myself. It will allow me to get a better read on this human, to figure out where he stands and what his motivations are. With that in mind, I jerk my head to the rocks, calling him forward. “Let’s go.”

{***}

I don’t take Alexander far, but we do have to leave the noise of camp to find animals suitable for food. The human trudges behind me, probably scaring away every rodent within a mile. Why must the race of man be so loud?

“Roll your foot from heel to toe when you walk rather than stomping down,” I instruct. To my surprise, he actually follows my advice. He’s still not as silent as an elf, but there is definitely an improvement.

A silence settles between us. When he breaks it, there is a vulnerability in his voice I did not expect to hear. “Is Cosima really going to be okay?”

Baranor had assured me of the fact and I know from my years of battle that the wound is not severe, so I am confident in my answer. “Yes. I think more damage was done to her feelings than her arm. She takes things quite deeply to heart. It will take time for those scars to heal.”

I’ve offended him. He scoffs, expression morphing into a glare. “And that’s bad?”

Now, I grit my teeth. He seems always on the prowl for some reason to dislike me, and I don’t appreciate him twisting my words about Cosima to use against me. I throw his accusation right back. “I am not the one questioning her intelligence and calling her naive.”

“That’s taken out of context!”

“And in what context are your words favorable?”

He seethes, and I find a strand of amusement in the differences between our demeanors. I stand calm and cool as ever while he glares up at me, mouth pulled into a grimace, face going hot in anger.

“You know what,” he grits out, hands clenching into fists. “Don’t go on defending her. Don’t get too attached. Because after yesterday, I’ve got no doubt in my mind that I’m getting out of here. And Cosima’s coming with me.”

I scoff. “You cannot force her.”

“I won’t have to.” He exhales, an assured serenity settling on his face. For the first time since our argument began, I feel wary. “That attack broke whatever spell you all have put on her. She’ll leave willingly. I guarantee it.”

Maybe it’s the arrogant twist in his smile, maybe it’s the stress of the day finally hitting me, maybe it’s just because he’s been an ass since the day he arrived and I would like nothing more than to knock him to the ground and teach him to have some respect. Whatever the reason, I feel the cold dread creeping through my bones colliding with a white-hot anger that sears through my chest. It takes everything in me not to let the composed mask slip from my face.

Despite my efforts, Alexander knows he’s hit his mark. He can tell he’s gotten a reaction out of me, and this pleases him to no end. He waves a hand forward, gesturing to the wide expanse of the path before us. “Lead on, Marchwarden. People need to eat.”

I want to challenge him.

But that is not respectable behavior of a leader, nor polite treatment of a human under my protection. So I call on every ounce of maturity and discipline I possess and turn on my heel, continuing the hunt.

And though we have good fortune in our search and I should be pleased, I am too focused on Alex’s promise to share in the enjoyment.

Cosima choosing to leave is a very real possibility.

And that hurts me more than it should.

A/n Thanks for reading! So it looks like we’re having some ~developments~ -- what do you think?! Likes, comments, and reblogs make me smile! Let me know if you would like to be added or removed from the tag list :)

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Tolkien tag list: @anangelwhodidntfall @eru-vande

Double Heart tag list: @lainphotography @themerriweathermage @thophil2941btw @kenobiguacamole @wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse @from-patroclus-with-love @boywivlove @tolkien-apologist @ordinarymom1 @my-darling-haldir @sweet-bea-blossom @moony-artnstuff

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biscuitfam · 3 years

Text

Take Your Place

Request: hi!!!! i think your doctor x readers are the bomb ((((: i was wondering, if ur not already drowning in reqs, if you'd do one for ten, where she travels with y/n and rose, but yns been with him for longer, whos in roses words "either really nice or super mean and possibly hates us. but that's okay, she's really funny." (description of 1 of my fav characters of all time🥺so would love this) would get along with 12 swimmingly. basically, out on a trip they encounter a monster that feeds on traumatic memories and it gets her. when they come to the rescue, they see her cry for the first time (vulnerable for the first time, really) and she's proper just bawling her eyes out.. you don't have to include the specific trauma memories or anything, just a concept (: my main thing is basically they see a usually really resilient reader cry for the first time. if you do this, thank you!! - @detroitbecomebitches

WC: 1.1k

TW: Horror like environment? Mentions of traumatic memories, toture(?) AN: So as before I’m playing catch up. However, I will be coming out with more fics here soon. A mixture of a few fandoms. I appreciate all the support from you guys! Remember to turn on post nonfictions and reblog if you like. I also have a tag list for those interested to be tagged in all my fics! i hope you enjoy the fic, I have been struggling on how to wrap this one up, however, I think I incorporated everything you asked for :)

Out of all the things in this world you could have been petrified of, it certainly wasn’t a strange man falling from the sky with his blonde side-sick, no. It was this. It had to be this.

Another rough landing had the three of you on your asses, laughing uncontrollably at the sheer stupidity of the doctor and his antics. The man swore up and down that he could properly fly the old girl. He alone could fly a machine required to be flown by six men. A smile crossed your face as you stood, helping Rose up as you went. The three of you went towards the doors and the brunette turned back to face the two of you with wide eyes, shining brightly like a child on Christmas.

“ Now, out there is vastly different than what we have explored before. Might not even know what is out there myself. Brilliant, right?” He laughed before kicking the door open with a muddy shoe, head tilting to the side to issue you and Rose out to the view of the planet.

“ Sure, let's explore a planet where you don’t know the potential dangers, where we might get eaten alive, or worse,” You let out a laugh and turned to Rose with a raised brow mimicking the Doctor’s face,” We might get stuck with two of him if he gets cloned.”

Outside the doors held a vast field of dusty bluegrass, with small multicolored flowers littered in-between the weaves of tall bushes and tangled grass. In the distance held a grand city shimmering in the light of the three moons within the sky. It was a very mystic view. No matter where he brought you, it never failed to amaze what the universe held for you to explore and find. The never-ending destinations, the visits to certain periods on your home planet, and the encounters with species you only thought you’d see in those cheesy sci-fi movies back home. Normally the night did not scare you, despite the location. However, this destination felt off. Like there were millions of little eyes glued on you.

You reached down and grabbed the Doctor’s hand, fingers locking nervously with his as the three of you marched down the blacked pebbled path towards the dimly lit town. There was hardly any noise with the lack of wind, the sound of wildlife, or people. The mere sound of your footsteps and breath from the three of you echoed throughout the surrounding area. Rose turned to face the Doctor, who also seemed very uncomfortable, with a worried expression. Where was everyone?

From the nearby bushes came a rustle of leaves causing you to whip around to look, but the sound seemed to be coming from all directions and grew with intensity. It enclosed the three of you until a sharp hit to the head caused you to blackout and fall. The feeling of clawed like hands held onto your skin as it pulled you away and through the tall grasses.

____

“Please don’t forget about me, I need you.” You whispered down to your loved one who laid within your lap, their smile so cheery and bright. The last bit of “family” you had cuddled up to you and it made you feel right at home. You had lost everything after the war with those alien creatures, Slitheen, as that odd man had called them.

“ Never, Y/N. I’d never forgotten about you.”

However, they had. They left, just like the others had. This time it wasn’t due to the creatures, It wasn’t from old age, it was by choice. The creatures hadn’t mocked their voice this time around pretending to be him when he said those awful words. He left you. The last person you had left.

___

Your screams ripped from your throat as it felt like you were painfully ripped from a nightmare, well, a more out of body experience to be exact. It wasn’t like you were dreaming -- no, it felt as if you were spectating on a memory. The hooded figure standing above you crouched down to eye level with his silted, snake-like eyes meeting yours.

“ Ahh, I see. You fear he will leave, just like the others, don’t you?” His laugh pierced your ears as if it were being shouted through a megaphone. You cringed and covered your ears and slid further into the cold, wet stone wall. Where was he? Surely he would be coming any moment..right?

The monster’s lip curled into a twisted smirk as he intruded your mind once again placing images of Rose and The Doctor turning away from the pathway and towards the old girl, without you. The tears have begun to roll down in thicker paths as you began to shut down. You could feel it beginning, losing your grip. You had been tortured by aliens before, by creatures of night and dreams. This time was different, something the Doctor had not warned you of before. It isn’t always the physical pain they play upon. Sometimes they use the pain of memories to fuel them. As you grew weaker, he grew stronger. As each wave of tears rolled down and the crash of cries against the concrete echoed the monster’s laughs grew hysterical. That was until the door slammed open and a very hot-faced, wild hair man came charging in with a very pink and blonde woman in tow. He was not thrilled in the slightest.

“ Leave her alone. Leave her alone, if you know what’s best for you.” He raised his sonic to the back of the monster’s head causing him to freeze still in that shocked stance of a raised arm and wide eyes. Animatronics? Robots? It didn’t matter, whatever it was, as long as the vision was over with. The Doctor extended a hand and helped you up, leading the way back to the TARDIS. He looked worried with his deep brown eyes. He knew you had been through a lot with him since the beginning of your travels -- Rose did too, according to the look pasted on her normally jolly face.

“ Don’t worry, Doctor. She’s either really nice or super mean and possibly hates us. but that's okay, she's really funny. And Humor will get us through troubling times. We would do anything to take your place in the bad times.” Rose laughed nervously as she rubbed across your hunched shoulder with eyes locking with the Doctor’s. And it was true. humor usually helped the three of you out, especially during troubling times such as these when memories of the past come to play.

TAG LIST

@yourneighbourhoodclown @whatiswrongwithpeople @emilythezeldafan

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4kominato · 3 years

Text

A/N: IT'S CHRISTMAS EVE!!!! heres an early present!╰ (*´︶`*)╯♡ actually not early for some but mehhh MERRY CHRISTMAS TO EVERYONE WHO CELEBRATES! ~ kuri

White Christmas includes TWO CharacterxFem!Reader fics featuring an MxM character ship!!! Both pairings are listed at the beginning of the story.

Pairing: Furuya Satoru x Fem!Reader [ft. HaruSawa]

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1,054

“Good morning, Satoru,” you mumbled as you stretched out your arms and turned onto your side to face him, “Merry Chr—” To your surprise, the other half of the bed was empty, though it was still a little warm, meaning he hadn’t gotten up too long ago. Flinging the sheets off, you hopped out of bed to search the small house for your boyfriend.

“Satoru?” you called as you walked down the hall and made your way out to the kitchen and living room, but nothing; he was nowhere to be seen. Where’d he wander off to this time… you thought to yourself, shaking your head knowing that he was sometimes in his own little world inside his head. Glancing by the front door, you noticed his shoes were gone and so, you assumed he had gone out for a walk or something of the sort. Rushing back to the bedroom, you changed into appropriate attire for winter and made your way outside.

Snow?! Your eyes grew wide as you opened the door seeing the fluffy, whiteness covering the ground. Reaching down to touch it, you realized it was freshly fallen, probably from just before you woke up if you had to guess, and that’s more than likely the reason Furuya had gone out, given he’s always been fond of cold weather.

“Satoru!” you called again as you stepped out into the snow. Thankfully, it wasn’t terribly deep, so you had no problem walking through it as you quickly panned the vast front yard for your missing boyfriend, but unfortunately, he was still nowhere to be seen. I swear I’ll kill him when I find him… you thought as you made your way even further out, desperate to find your idiot of a boyfriend.

“Sat—” you were about to call again when you finally found him, casually laying in the snow, appearing to be asleep. “SATORU! What do you think you’re doing?!” you scolded as you knelt down next to him and shook him awake, “You can’t take a nap out here in the snow, are you crazy?!”

“It feels good,” he mumbled in response, his eyes still closed as he spoke.

“You’re gonna turn into a goddamn ice cube, idiot! You’re not a polar bear!”

He replied with some kind of muffled noise in disagreement, still refusing to get up despite your furious tone, so you spoke up again, “Satoru! Eijun and Haruichi are coming over soon and you’ll get sick if you just sta—!”

Before you could finish, he grabbed you by the wrist and yanked you forward making you fall onto his chest, his arms wrapping around your torso soon after.

“Just a few more minutes…” he spoke breathily, as if he was falling back asleep again.

“Satoru…” you whined, wiggling in his arms in an attempt to escape, but it was to no avail. He had no intentions of letting go, not yet at least. “Alright, fine… only a few more minutes…”

Finally content, Furuya went back to sleep, his soft little snores ringing in your ears as the two of you laid together in the cold, fluffy mound of snow. You swore only about thirty seconds had passed when suddenly, the sound of footsteps could be heard within ears range, so you looked up to see who it was.

“What are you doing?” Haruichi asked, a puzzled expression on his face when your eyes met.

“Oh… uh hahaha…” you chuckled nervously sitting up and awkwardly rubbing the back of your head, “Satoru was taking a nap in the snow… I was supposed to bring him in but I guess I ended up joining him!”

“Harucchi!” another familiar voice chimed in followed by the sound of running footsteps, “What is i— y/n?”

“Er… hi Eijun… We were just about to head inside,” you greeted, not really wanting to relay your little story again.

“What are you—”

“Ask Haruichi… Come on Satoru-chan, look they’re already here.” Standing up first, you offered him a hand to help him up, but he didn’t want to take it and instead stood up on his own. “Are you mad at me? We can’t just leave our guests hang—iNG!”

Before you could process anything, Furuya had swept you up off your feet and was carrying you back into the house, blankly walking right past Haruichi and Sawamura.

“MUMUMU, YOU THINK YOU’RE MANLY FURUYA?!” Sawamura huffed, watching as the two of you entered the house, “I CAN CARRY HARUCCHI TOO. Hold the gifts!”

“Eijun-kun, calm down. I don’t think that was his inte—ENTION!” Before Haruichi could really protest, Eijun had already shoved the gifts into his hands and picked him up in the same manner that Furuya had done to you. When they entered the house, Haruichi was silent, but his face was flushed red, while Sawamura stood proudly holding him in his arms, making sure Furuya saw before putting him down.

“See, Furuya, you’re not the only strong boyfriend around here,” Sawamura flaunted as he took off his shoes and stepped through the doorway and into the cozy living room.

“Eijun-kun!” Haruichi scolded, lightly smacking his arm as he took off his shoes and followed suit, shutting the door behind him. Furuya only huffed in response, turning away from his noisy classmate to open the gift you’d handed him.

“Sorry, we haven’t exchanged our gifts with each other yet because Satoru went out in the snow as soon as he woke up,” you apologized to the two boys as they made their way toward the couch to join you.

“It’s okay, here’s your gifts from us,” Haruichi replied, placing them on the coffee table.

“Mm, yes, we understand… because Furuya is dumb,” Sawamura stated matter-of-factly.

“And you aren’t?”

“HARUCCHI!?”

You only giggled at the couple bantering before you turned back to Furuya to see his progress on unwrapping his present, a warmth filling your heart seeing that he’d tossed the gift bag and tissue onto the floor and was already cuddling the polar bear plushie you’d chosen for him.

“I’m glad you like it,” you grinned, pecking his cheek before getting up to grab Haruichi and Sawamura’s gifts from under the tree, “Here, these are yours. Merry Christmas! And thanks for coming over.”

“Merry Christmas!” they replied in unison, happily accepting their gifts.

Pairing: Sawamura Eijun x Fem!Reader [ft.ChrisMiyu]

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1,044

“It’s perfect!” you chimed, standing back and admiring the bare snowballs the two of you stacked together to make a snowman, “Now we need to find things to put on him.”

“I’ll find branches for the arms!” Sawamura volunteered, quickly running off to find some sticks, so in the meantime, you looked for any other various things you could find to use as eyes, a nose and a mouth. It didn’t take you long to gather a plentiful amount of pine cones and pebbles, providing enough variety to get all the facial features in one crack, and maybe even buttons too.

You ended up finishing the face before Sawamura got back, so while you waited, you decided you’d prepare a little surprise for when he arrived. Peaking around the snowman, you saw your boyfriend finally walking back with a handful of sticks, so you reached down into the snow and cupped a piled of it into your hand, packing it into a small compact ball.

“I grabbed a few different sticks because I wasn’t sure which ones would look best…”

Just as he finished his sentence and looked up at you, you chucked the snowball at his chest making him jump and drop the sticks he was holding.

“I’ll get you for that!” Sawamura yelled, reaching into the snow as you giggled and tried to make a run for it. Just as you turned back to check on him, you were beamed in the back by his snowball, the impact making you topple forward, face first into the snow. “Y/n!” Sawamura yelled immediately after, running after you to see if you were okay. Straddling and kneeling over you, he quickly flipped you over and then pulled you into a hug. “I’M SO SORRY! I didn’t mean for you to fall over.”

“Did you forget that you’re a pitcher?” you remarked breathily, still a little winded from the blow.

“I thought I threw it lightly—”

“Oi!” a familiar voice yelled as the two of you sat together in the snow, “Get a room or something, sheesh.”

When the two of you looked up, a spectacled boy was walking down the path making his way toward the two of you, despite his rash remark.

“MIYUKI KAZUYA!” Sawamura growled, quickly picking himself up from where he was hovering over you and storming over to have a chat with the annoying pretty boy. “Don’t tell me what to do Miyuki Kazuya! I was helping my girlfriend because… she fell!”

“Well, you’re not being very helpful now are you?” Miyuki argued, “You just left her there in the snow.”

“GRR! That’s because you had to go and open your stupid mouth!” Sawamura complained, trudging back to help you up while angrily mumbling to himself, “He never has anything nice to say.” Miyuki followed close behind, watching as Sawamura pulled you up from the snow.

“Merry Christmas, Miyuki-san,” you greeted shyly, still slightly flustered at his earlier comment.

“Merry Christmas,” he replied back with a smile, “If horndog here can’t keep it in his pants out in public, you can yell for help y’know. I would’ve saved you.”

“THAT’S NOT WHAT HAPPENED,” Sawamura snapped back, angrily pointing at Miyuki as he spoke, “I told you the story!”

“That she fell? Hmm… I don’t buy that. She’s not clumsy like you,” Miyuki shrugged.

“I fell because he threw a snowball at me,” you chuckled, dusting the snow off of your legs and butt.

“Oh! Now that sounds more reasonable!” Miyuki laughed, resting an arm on your shoulder, “Seriously, how have you dated this idiot for so long? I could never.”

“I heard that Miyuki Kazuya!”

“Stop calling me by my full name, would you?” he rolled his eyes, giving Sawamura a playful nudge.

“Kazuya,” another familiar voice called, making all three of you crane your heads to see who it was, “Your coffee.”

“Thanks,” Miyuki smiled, grabbing the warm drink from the older boy.

“Chris-senpai!” Sawamura’s face lit up as he ran over to him and gave him a big hug.

“Oi, oi… who gave you permission to manhandle my husband?” Miyuki remarked before taking a quick sip of his coffee.

“He’s not your husband!” Sawamura snapped back.

“Oh yeah? How would you know?”

“Because! If you guys got married, Chris-senpai would’ve invited me! ...Right?”

“Hmm…” Chris hummed, turning his head away from his kohai, “I was actually a little worried that you might object so…”

“CHRIS-SENPAI?!” Sawamura whined in disappointment whilst Miyuki laughed in the background.

“C’mon Ei-chan, they’re just messing around,” you comforted while attempting to pull him off of Chris. “Merry Christmas, Chris-san!”

“Merry Christmas to both of you,” Chris replied with a smile, giving Sawamura a little head pat as he finally released his grip around his waist.

“Actually, Bakamura has yet to wish either of us a Merry Christmas,” Miyuki butted in with a shrug, “He just tried to pick a fight with me while you were away.”

“Merry Christmas, Chris-senpai! And by the way, he was the one who started it!”

“All I said was ‘get a room.’”

Already accustomed to Miyuki and Sawamura’s unique friendship, he only gave a little chuckle before speaking up again, “Anyways, how would the two of you like to join us for dinner? Kazuya made a very nice cake and we were going to pick up fried chicken on the way home.”

“Chris-chan! I don’t want Bakamura to come to our house. He's too noisy.”

“We’d love to come over!” Sawamura exclaimed, speaking for you in the process, “I won’t have any of the cake though.”

“Suit yourself,” Miyuki snapped back, taking Chris’s hand into his own before heading back to the path.

“You’re okay with going to their place right?” Sawamura confirmed with you despite the fact that he’d already agreed with Chris that you guys were going.

“Yeah. We haven’t hung out with them in a while,” you agreed, clinging onto Sawamura’s biceps before following the other couple toward the path.

“YAY! I won’t embarrass you this time,” he smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

“You always find a way to embarrass me… but that’s what makes each moment with you so memorable. I’ll definitely remember this Christmas, just like all our other ones.”

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skzsauce01 · 4 years

Text

Umbrella

Description: Changbin struggles with being everyone’s cornerstone and finds comfort from unexpected “people.” Based on “Streetlight.”

Warning: implication of suicide

Word Count: 1.4k

It’s raining. Of course it is, Changbin thinks to himself, stepping into the drizzle. Why is nothing wrong, yet everything feels like it is or is going to be?

The man takes on the empty streets, going in and out of the ellipses of yellow casted on the ground by the lights above and hoping to make it back to the dorms before the storm becomes too unbearable. However, it is not the rain that stops him, but his own legs. Worn from hours of standing in the recording booth and even more hours spent perfecting the group’s newest dance, it’s no wonder they can no longer support his weight. At least, that’s how any spectator would explain why he slumps beneath one of the light sources with a tired huff.

More heavy than his legs is the weight in his chest. He can’t exactly explain why he is feeling this way, but he does know that unless he pulls his knees to suppress the sensation immediately, it might actually burst a hole through his ribs and kill him.

‘Is it okay to do this?’ he asks himself as he buries as head in his arms. ‘No one’s here, so I guess I can for right now.’

In that position, being pelted by the rain, he slowly goes through his day in his mind. He woke up at ten when I.N begged to get breakfast together, and he can never say no to the maknae. He got to the company an hour later and found Han pulling his hair out over some lyrics, so he sat down with him and talked until the younger one found a stroke of inspiration from their conversation. He decided to continue the conversation with STAYs on vlive for an hour afterwards. From there, Seungmin asked for his opinion about a cover he recorded, and Hyunjin asked for some advice on his rapping. After that, he shoveled what food he could into his stomach before Chan came by with Han to discuss their next 3RACHA mixtape plans. When that was finished, they all headed to the dance room where they found Lee Know already working up a sweat.

“You can rely on me,” he replied when the main dancer thanked him for the towel Changbin gave him.

“You can rely on me,” he replied when Chan praised him for finishing the line none of them could find a rhyme to.

“You can rely on me,” he replied when Hyunjin shyly popped in the room he and Seungmin were in, asking for help.

“You can rely on me,” he replied when Seungmin stared in amazement at his constructive feedback before the younger one smacked him for his cringy aegyo.

“You can rely on me,” he replied when his fans commented on how much better their awful days got when they received his live notification.

“You can rely on me,” he replied when Jisung needed a back rub between tears of frustration.

“You can rely on me,” he replied when I.N thanked him for picking up the bill.

It was an accomplished day, Changbin must admit. So then, why does he still feel so empty? He is convinced he has gone insane when he turns to look at the streetlight above and talks to it.

“How do you do it?” he asks. “You light the path for people every night without rest, yet nobody ever spares you a second glance. They tape flyers to you, and animals even pee on you, yet you don’t stop shining.”

Changbin looks at a poster stuck to the side of it. “Lost Dog,” it reads. “Please call this number if you catch even a glimpse of her. We’re so worried wondering if she is okay.”

He chuckles dryly at the emojis the sentence is followed by. “Are you okay?” he asks the light.

Of course no response follows. Changbin sighs and turns back to his knees. The rain keeps pelting down on him, and he never felt so small beneath the vastness of the sky. Yet it felt good to feel small. It felt good to feel insignificant, like he can stumble and say all the wrong things and no one would care. It doesn’t make sense to him logically, but the feeling did.

“What about you?”

Changbin looks up sharply at the sound of the voice. There he sees you, dressed in a white gown, barefoot and holding a white umbrella over him.

“What do you mean?” he inquires, squinting his eyes as the rain continued to find its way onto him.

“Are you okay?”

He smiles painfully at his cracked hands. “Nah. You know me. I’m just so weak and afraid all the time.”

You let out a hum and sit beside him. “And what have you been doing about that?”

“Nothing yet,” he shrugs. “I guess I can still take it since I’ve been holding it back just fine so far.”

“It’s slipping in though, isn’t it? The pain and the fear, I mean. To here.” You tap his chest.

“I’m fine,” he insists. “I’m holding it together.”

“You’re talking to me in the middle of the pouring rain while seated on the street,” you laugh. “Who are you trying to fool?”

“Stray Kids.”

“No, that’s not it.”

“STAYs?”

“No.”

“Park Jinyoung pd-nim?”

“What? No.”

“The industry?”

“Changbin.”

The man peels his eyes off of you and cast his gaze to the ground. He’s known the answer all along. He’s known why he’s been feeling like a streetlight all along.

“Myself,” he answers.

You smile at him and stand up, swinging the white umbrella on your shoulder.

“Y/N?” he calls without looking up, not wanting to see you leave again.

“Hm?”

“I needed that,” he says appreciatively.

“You can rely on me.”

He scoffs. From a distance, he hears another voice. Voices in fact.

“Changbin?” “Hyung?” “Oi, Idiot!”

He stands and sees not one but all of his bandmates running up to him.

“What are you thinking?” Seungmin scolds, reaching him first with his long legs. The younger boy thrusts his red umbrella over Changbin, effectively shielding him from the rain.

“Why are you guys here?” he asks, bewildered.

“I called Chan, wondering where you were only to find out you left the company a half hour ago,” Felix answers. “I then texted the group chat, and no one knew where you were, so we all went to look for you thinking something happened!”

“You all looked for me?”

“Of course! We’re a team,” Hyunjin huffs, dizzy from worry.

“We thought you got kidnapped for an alien experiment or something!”

“That was just you, Han.”

“Hyung, you thought he was recruited by a cult of cats,” laughs I.N.

Changbin shifts his eyes to and from each of his member’s teasing and smiling faces, and he feels his heart swell at the sight.

Chan steps forward, drying the rapper’s hair with his own jacket. “Hey, you okay?”

“I--” his voice cracks right as the streetlight from above flickers. “I am now.”

Changbin rips off every bandaid he tried patching up his heart with and begins bawling onto the leader’s shoulder. The latter quickly wraps his arms around him and buries Changin’s head into his shoulder, dropping his umbrella in the process. Gradually, each of the members drop their umbrellas too and join their brothers in a hug. They are getting soaked, but not one of them cares. They embrace the pains of the rain, choosing to use their arms to support one another than their umbrellas.

“Hey,” he calls out to you.

The wind is his only response this time, so he sticks one hand in his pocket and looks around the grassy field.

“You really know when to come find me, huh? Sorry it took so long for me to get back to you; I caught quite the flu after sitting in the rain like that,” he laughs. It ends however, on a down note.

“I wish I could have said the things you said to me back then, you know, when you needed them and no one noticed. I guess that’s how you knew what to say to me. Didn’t want me walking down the same path, didcha?”

He kicks at a stray pebble. “I guess what I’m trying to get to is… well, thank you.”

With that, he places the white lilies he has bought for you on the marble slate and walks off the cemetery.

~ ad.gold

#seo changbin #stray kids #skz #changbin #streetlight #stray kids senarios #stray kids changbin #stray kids streetlight #skz player #20200625

71 notes · View notes

cronquette · 3 years

Text

:four:

Disclaimers:

-Dedicated to Julia

-I do not own any of the Naruto franchise, I’m just making my SasuSaku dreams come to life.

-More personal notes will be situated at the end of the chapter

Enjoy!

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

“Some beautiful paths can't be discovered without getting lost.”

― Erol Ozan

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

The dewy grass left trails of freshness that wafted towards her nose, for it was sunrise when she had approached the village. It was massive, buildings wrung with wood and stoned grounds, stalls brimmed with fresh, rosy apples or exotic, blooming flowers flung themselves at her every second, catching her cocooned curiosity quickly. Her dress was modestly masked with a cloak, in case the spring cold would make itself known once more, and torment her small being with its ever freezing bite.

Her footfalls scraped slowly as she wandered through the streets, not paying heed to much of the crowds or clamour for she wanted to check her surroundings at the very least; it was not as if she had anything physically to hide. Her most prominent feature that would glimmer daintily in the sunlight, her glowing pink tresses, were now concealed from prying eyes. And her jewel, the captivating viridescent rhinestone, was tucked away safely in her skirt pocket, where her hand had been tucked in, lightly grasping it for fear that it would suddenly disappear. The only thing that would hold people’s gaze would be her foaming green irises, but she had held her head away in her hood that it would be impossible to observe such globes with practically no sunlight to hover over them. They practically glimmered under the sun’s speculation.

Her strides were slow, and her chest heaved slowly. She took in her sights, savouring her surroundings as she walked further, and further, through the roads. Marketing was certainly a thing she’d caught on straight away, for there were a myriad of sellers, creating clamour for people to take a peep at the things they held in possession. Many were farmers, she took a guess, as they had all sorts of crops and vegetables, fruits and whatnots sitting in their respective baskets, just anxiously waiting to be eaten. Others seemed to have sewn fine clothing, or smooth, meticulously crafted pottery, lathered in clean coats of polish to finish them nicely and make them look quite presentable.

The domesticality was all new to her, a culture she wasn’t very familiar with. Living in a coven all her life, food supplies either discreetly and swiftly delivered or fetched as soon as possible. Residing secretly was something she was used to, the exception of the ritual she had just experienced, along with attending all the others. She wasn’t suited for such open marketing, which proved her uselessness currently all the more when she realised there was not one silver coin in her pocket. Even packed with all her clothes, food to suffice for just a few days, and scrolls to help her study, she wasn’t able to purchase one single thing. It was fruitless to whine and beg, she wouldn't succumb to such vulgarity. Her mentor taught her that, and even so, there was no way she would lower her position as a witch before those humans.

Even so, she couldn’t help but smile. Ino would enjoy this, she knew. The outdoors was just so suited for an out-going, confident girl such as the said blonde, and it was unfortunate she wouldn’t be accompanying the pinkette. The sun would be much entertained playing with golden locks, and accentuating such crystal eyes.

A new start was certainly refreshing, and she had a tingling feeling that it would be quite soon that she would be reaching new horizons and milestones

Wherever Sasuke traversed, a cold, sinister aura always accompanied him, But his firmness wasn’t able to intimidate everyone, so to say. There were, however, many who greatly feared him and the power he held. Those were mostly outside the palace walls, though. Within the elegant patterned pillars and marbled flooring, there was nothing short of being annoyed by the Uchiha. His servants, the dainty things they were, served him rightfully, not complaining unless amongst the company of themselves, and he paid no heed otherwise.

Hearsay was something not really familiar within the castle walls.

However, in the court, it was more than likely to be the everyday news.

Sasuke took his place at the old oak table, sitting comfortably at the head, his eyes steely piercing through the silence of the room. To his right, sat stiffly none other than Hyuuga Hiashi, in all his glory, arms crossed low around the biceps, his mouth achieving such a downturn it surfaced a memory of his own father doing such imposed actions. It made his brows knit deeper, before cooly turning to face frontwards.

“I take it you’re all well,” his words meant nothing; it was just procedure to stall a little before heading to the main topic, he had to remind himself. He’d seen many of his ancestors do so before him, and he wanted nothing more than to place his feet in their steps. A cold stand of wind shook the omnipresent tension this room always carried when such meetings took place.

Silent nods prodded him to continue, and so the raven folded his hands, leaning his elbows pointed on the table as his palms stood in front of him. He sharply inhaled: this conference would last an hour (as always), and so bringing different subjects to light at the right time was always something laying dormant at the back of his mind. He decided to start with the one that probed the nightmares that shook the living daylights out of him.

“Witches. And Warlocks. Those creatures still hang free,” He licked his lips in such a tantalisingly slow way it made one gulp.

“Why?”

His Adam's apple bobbed as the last word came out. His voice was a dagger, slicing the peace of the government before him in one single blow.

“Pardon me, your majesty,”

It was one of the further participants at the table who spoke, nevertheless, his voice wrung firmly, and his eyes, though pale like milk, shone with tenacity that they were quite nice to be held in.

“Those creatures may be vulgar, but they hold some sort of intelligence, sire. They’re hard to catch, and they certainly do not want to be found. I suspect they dwell in an abandoned part of Konoha’s vast forests, but it would be a matter of searches to see. Alas, you and I both know these follow ups have been taken before, and everytime, the result has always been futile.”

“Do you suggest that we abandon our searches entirely, Neji?” he gritted out with venom spitting from his teeth.

“I do not suggest as such, my Lord. However, there is only so much you can do; you’re not yet King of this land, you are Crowned Prince. The level of your status has merely succeeded upwards. There are still elders who have more power over you,” he fussed haughty, for his own clan leader was one of the few. The temptation to stomp over to his chair and rip his throat with the Uchiha’s bare hands was so enticing, but he had self control. He knew it was not the time to play like animals.

But Neji was truly a jackass.

“Hyuuga,” the domineering, stygian orbed male nodded to Hiashi, receiving his stern attention. The silence between them spoke louder than anything, for the elder knew exactly what the prince desired. And although it was something that was made to sleep for the moment, everyone in that room wanted nothing more than those chakra-wielding things to die. A common trait shared by all the civilians and warriors. Those of flesh and bone.

“You ask me to send out troops to find passages to where they lay, Sasuke,” he bit out gruffly. He cleared his throat, almost as if to show he had still a sort of superiority towards him.

“I can do so, but the most I can send is two troops of twenty. It’s a fleeting risk, however, all the more scarce that they will have to split halves in order to scatter north, south, east and west,” he answered. Sasuke refused to release the relieving breath he was holding, and instead flared his nose, as if to contemplate the proposition. It wasn’t much: ten of their men each searching thousands of acres, How long it would take to know of their return infuriated him beyond measure, but then again, less members meant more freedom.

They could move better in less numbers, so that was something that he could hold himself onto. Apparently, it was enough to convince him.

“I’ll take that chance,” his voice was hoarse from not trying to rush his words, an attempt to not sound desperate, for even in a room full of eyes his pride was bound to be torn like a ravaging pack of lions.

A small nod from the Hyuuga was all that he needed to know. Another search was going to be sent.

“Is that all you want to discuss with us, my Lord?” the aforementioned narrowed his eyes at the man who spoke. The lackadaisical, smart annoyance had his arms crossed behind his head, leaning comfortably on the back of his chair as if he had a care in the world. It wouldn’t surprise him if he didn’t. The audacity of the Nara didn’t disturb the Uchiha as much as before, so it only gave him so much as a twitch to his left eye.

“No, but most of the topics I am to discuss aren’t as much of importance. Feel free to sleep through the rest of this conference,” he spoke the last sentence sarcastically.

“May I but in before I snore then, your Highness?” he sighed.

The dark haired male shrugged, as if to say do as you wish.

“Some girl entered the village today,” he chided, “strange gal. Doesn’t look like she’s from here. We ought to keep an eye on her.” he proceeded to yawn, and leant back further, he looked as if to fall off his chair.

“Her appearance, Nara?” the young Hyuuga male inquired.

From his observation, she wasn’t very memorable, having been concealed through a cloak. The only thing that caught his eye was her eyes: the bright, emerald orbs they were.

Interesting.

It didn’t take long for Sakura to tire herself out through gallivanting aimlessly, padding her way through stones and pebbles on the ground, the sky’s heat accentuating through every hour, and the board weighted pack on her shoulders smally growing heavier by the minute. She wiped the swelling beads of perspiration that scurried down her forehead with the back of her hand, and released a breath of exasperation.

This village was immense in land expanse, and she hadn’t even gotten through to the heart of it, the place that made her mind twist with fascination-- the palace itself. In all its splendour, the building stood proudly in the heat, almost glimmering with pride: she could see it. But it seemed today was not one of which she could journey so far. She’d seen carriages steadily rocking bye, the horses trotting with such elegance she was entranced so much she stopped just to see them going by.

Oh, what a place this was.

She’d brought with her many of the scrolls containing the recounts of some of her predecessors’ experience, those--of course-- who’d made it out alive, and she pondered whether her experience would be deemed just as exhilarating. Or, gruesome enough to know she’d be burnt alive at the stake. She really didn’t know.

She then had encountered a bakery, blooming with warmth and delicious treats stacked at the window sill, enticing all who laid eyes on them. The pinkette frowned in despair as she knew she would not be able to purchase such a delicacy. Her stomach even whined at how imbecilic she was for not even bringing any coins to spare.

As she was about to move along, a voice caught her attention.

“Excuse me Miss, I can’t help but see how you’re looking at the pastries in our shop. Would you like to buy something?”

Unlike the Haruno, this girl wasn’t wearing a dimple, and so her chestnut locks gleamed hazelnut-like as she made her way towards her. Said strands were neatly folded round the top of her head to create two buns, only a ragged fringe framing her face. She dressed simply, with very few (maybe two) rosy petticoats that rivaled Sakura’s own hair. Not that it mattered-- it wasn’t as if she could see it anyway. She wore a slightly darker shade for her bodice, the tone drifting to a crimson, and her flat stomacher was an off-white, almost cream colour. She was a civilian, no doubt, but she seemed more dressed up than what would be necessary.

“Your shop?”

“Ah, it does seem like I’m not best suited for the occasion in this,” she picked up the thick skirts as a way of gesturing to her outfit, “however my family does own the bakery. You’re not from here, are you? I’m Tenten, a pleasure to meet you!”

Her beam was so bright and fulfilling it made the rosette pop a grin as well, taking her hand and shaking it firmly.

“Sakura, nice to meet you too,” she smiled softly.

“And I would love to buy something from your shop, it’s just that I don’t have any money on me right now. I’m very gratified at the offer, though.”

The brunette shook her head with a laugh, before grabbing the Haruno’s wrist and practically dragging her into the store. They were instantly met with the cozy smell of bread and sweet aromas, and the warmth of ovens burning with fervour.

“Oh, har har! Since you’re new around here, I’ll let you have a pastry for free! Your choice: pick one and it’s on the house,” she gestured to the room. The room was tantalisingly dizzying her with spells of temptation, and this girl was a civilian!

The pinkette smiled weakly and bit out a childish, nervous giggle. Not eating for a while seemed to take a toll on her.

“I couldn’t. Really, Tenten, I appreciate the offer, but I must get going-”

“But you’re new, Sakura! I bet you don’t even have a place to stay.” she wagged an accusatory finger at the aforementioned. The latter grew pale at the revelation, trying to scatter ideas through her head and pick out the most logical option. However, there was none. It really was inevitable. She didn’t know what to do or say, but opening and closing her mouth frantically in an attempt to let out words was an amusing sight to display.

“Aha!” The brunette smirked. She then proceeded to run behind a counter, and with a flimsy towel, she meticulously pulled out a small, hand-sized meat pie, with slow strings of steam wafting upwards. She pushed her hands towards the Haruno’s petite frame, and instantly caught a whiff. She swallowed, before acquiescing.

The inside of her mouth burst with flavour as she took a bite. Her tongue tingled as she chewed pensively, still captured in the eyes of a certain baker’s daughter.

“I-It’s good,” she commented.

She ended up eating another one after.

Shikamaru was always observant, his skills made prominent for the Uchiha’s gain, and although it was a trapping situation, he didn’t mind. His life always bore him no matter what he did, the most he spent doing was making out the shapes of clouds in his spare time. That, and help soothe the load of paperwork that had been flung on his shoulders.

As of this moment, the conference had come to a close, and he was free to roam as much as he desired.

Instead, he sat at a small bar stall, a metal mug of beer filled to the brim with golden alcoholic liquid, topped off with frothy substances bursting atop. One pint of the drink, and above all, his tobacco pipe puffed with intoxicating reels of smoke, making the man beside him choke in disgust.

“God, Shikamaru, do you have to smoke that crap?! It stinks!”

He would have scoffed at the said Uzumaki, who vexibly stalked him to this den after claiming that he needed some sort of relief off of all his errands as ‘Teme’s Right-Hand man’, and wanted some company. He still had no clue how the blonde was able to get away with that filthy nickname. But it wasn’t his place to judge their relationship, as the topic itself was something so obscure it confused even the two men in the involved party. And the Nara really didn’t appreciate getting himself into puzzling situations that twisted his brain unless he was forced to, or it was a pastime he participated in.

“If you don’t like it, you can leave, Naruto.” he sighed, as he took a swig at the beer in front of him, gasping as the bitter drink swelled down his throat. It was a bitter-sweet feeling, but he was used to it. It burned, but he relished in the pain.

“No way! I’m staying, ‘ttebayo. Oi, bartender! I’d like a pint sized mug of whiskey if you will!” she exclaimed, slamming his fisted hand on the sticky countertop. No one made enough effort to properly clean the wooden table, but no one complained.

Shikamaru shook his head, punching the blonde’s bicep rather harshly:

“I’m not taking care of a drunk you.”

He swatted his hand in the air as if dismissing him lightly, his nose wrinkling in laughter. As his drink was carefully handed to him, he recklessly bumped it towards the beer on the counter, slightly tipping the liquids together in an attempt to make some sort of toast.

“I’ll be careful, promise.”

The Nara was tempted to mutter something along the lines of ‘tis what you said last time’, but he held his tongue and instead sucked in yet another breath of tobacco, his mind slightly clouding in a sort of dizzy utopia. He heard a breathy exhale from his left before a slightly slurred sentence arrived, leaving his brows furrowed in calculation.

“Hey, heard from Sasuke that there’s a new girl in town. Do you know where she is, now?”

“What, are you willing to scare yet another one of the female species that resides in Konoha?”

The Uzumaki sputtered, leaving a smirk to cross the brunet’s features.

“Go to hell, Shikamaru!”

“And no, I just wanna meet her.” he lipped, pouting like a child. He was obviously highly offended, and that added to the other man’s pride.

In the end the two downed their drinks forcefully, not wasting one drop and yet attempting hard to sustain themselves from succumbing to the drunkenness. However their walking patterns seemed quite unsturdy and Naruto was easily daydreaming, so it wasn’t a good sign. In the end, they tossed their cash to the bartender carelessly, and stumbled around the village in search of a certain lady.

They found her, and quite simply too. The Nara remembered she was last seen, and where he found her, at the bakery he most frequented, since their baked goods were better than the others, it was a good travelling pace of exercise, and it was conjoined with a neighbouring weaponry store next door which they also owned. So, easily, they found her, although that was just going to be a place of questioning her whereabouts.

The bell chimed as the wooden door opened.

“Tenten,” Shikamaru respectfully regarded, a clumsy Naruto staggering behind. The shop was warm and cozy, and instantly scents of sweet and savoury adorned his senses.

“Tenten! Nice to see ya, we were wondering if you’ve got any information about where the new girl is-”

The brunet stopped in confusion at the sudden halt of breath from the Uzumaki. Something that he didn’t do often. Something in his opinion that he should do often. But that wasn’t the point.

He found the blonde gaping ahead of him, all sense of inebriation perished as his eyes glistened with a look of familiarity at whatever was behind him. Instantly, he turned around.

A small girl sat at the furthest table, shoulders squared and eyes wide with the same look of intensity as the male beside him. Her mouth hung lowly, as she was blinking frantically, as if they were an illusion she was trying to escape from. Her rosy brows knitted as she tried to find the words to say, but the whole room rushed cold as the two apparently came to the same sort of conclusion of words.

“Sakura-chan?!”

“Naruto?!”

--------------------------

Hi! Merry Christmas, or whatever you celebrate around this time. Can you believe it? 2020 is finally over, my God. My friends and I are deciding to go on a zoom call and play rick astley’s never gonna give you up as the end credits of this year. Seriously, it all goes downhill from here fnhdbkjdf. One of my friends is already stomping on 2021, don’t get me started lol.

I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Please comment/review, as I really like to know that people still read my story, especially on ffnet and ao3. To those who have done so before, thank you so much! Every comment/review makes my entire day.

since my beta reader had something come up, until you read this, Julia! XD

Yours truly,

-Avis

#SasuSaku

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realfuurikuuri · 3 years

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Chapters: 17/? Fandom: Mao Mao: Heroes of Pure Heart (Cartoon) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Summary: MissingArm!AU: When escaping the cave, it wasn't his tail that got crushed. In exchange for his innocence, he gained a sordid past. The Pure Heart Valley seemed like a good place to escape. To start a new life with a new family to forge a new identity. However, when the past rears its ugly head Mao Mao's forced to step up or be put down.

direct link to chapter 17 on Ao3:

Chapter Below the Cut

“Jǐngti,” Badgerclops shouted as he wandered through the forest with Adorabat resting on his head.

“Jǐngtì,” shouted Adorabat soon after.

Badgerclops suppressed a sigh, wondering how much longer this would take. He’s been walking through the forest that surrounds the hills since early this morning. His fur was covered in a thin veneer of sweat, and his knees were starting to hurt. Would Jǐngtì even come out if he heard them? Was he even in the forest? He could be in the junkyard, in the town something or who knows how many other places. There was an entire kingdom to sift through! This hasn’t been a waste of time from the start, has it?

Badgerclops kicked a rock in the mud with the realization that this was all pointless. But what else could he do? Not looking for a child who had run away in the night? Badgerclops picked up the pebble he kicked, reeled back his arm, and threw it into the procession of trees. He half expected to hear Jǐngtì say “ow” as the rock hit on the head, but he heard nothing but the vast emptiness of the forest.

There weren't any fortuitous accidents to be had here. Just misery.

“What are you doing,” Adorabat asked.

Oh damn. He forgot she was there.

“It's nothing,” he said.

Acrobat didn’t seem convinced. She settled back down on Badgerclops head with a noncommittal grunt. Badgerclops kept walking, and Adorbat kept making sounds. Usually grunts or maybe a whispered word. Was she thinking? First time he’s seen her try so hard at it. He wouldn’t wish her any luck though. There’s no reason a child should be trying to put together such a macabre puzzle. She probably wouldn’t be able to anyway. She was asleep for most of last night, so her puzzle was missing a few pieces. Even if she had all the pieces there wouldn’t be any way a child’s mind could get the full grasp of what was going on, right? “What’s that mean?”

Badgerclops looked up at Adorabat with an eyebrow raised.

“You said something about a child’s puzzle?”

It appeared that he was just as lost in thought as Adorabat. Badgerclops wiped the sweat from his brow. This Sisyphean task had gone on too long. Although, Badgerclops wasn’t sure he needed to. Jǐngtì had his father’s blood coursing through his veins; he was bound to show up with another problem on his heels. It was time for Sisyphus to get a break and go back to HQ. Mao Mao would probably still be curled up on the couch, but he could never be too sure about that man.

Badgerclops looked around. There was grass at his feet and a crowd of trees in every direction. He was lost as fuck. It had to be this damn forest. And all this damn walking! Exercise has never done him well. What to do? Badgerclops tapped his finger until he had a lightbulb that promptly went out. He has a GPs system in the works but he never actually got around to setting it up. Damn you procrastination. Time to the bust out old reliable: climbing to a high place and hoping for the best!

What high place, was now the question. Badgerclops looked up at the pine trees that pierced the sky. He could climb those… but that was exercise and got a hard pass. What other pieces of geography could he take advantage of? Hmm, there were a series of hills that rose above the canopy, HQ was built on one, so maybe he’d be able to see it from one of those. He just needed to find one.

“Hey, Adorabat. Fly up and tell me if you see any hills, okay.”

“Okay!”

Badgerclops watched her fly above the treetops into the sky when it hit him. “Did I forget she could fly?”

“Hey, Badgerclops! I see something… shiny .”

Badgerclops could see Adorabat’s pupils dilate and chomp her teeth as base instincts take over. She began to fly off at frightful speeds.

Badgerclops threw his head back and let out a loud groan. “It always exercises with you people,” he told no one in particular as he ran after her.

He followed her to where the ground slanted, forcing Badgerclops to trudge up slowly with his knees. The slope went higher and higher until he broke past the tops of the conifers to the top of the ridge. An endless green sea stretched into the horizon. He could see the town in the East, HQ to the north, and Adorabat off to the side.

He picked up the weird stick she was chewing on and pried Adorbat off like a leech. “We have got to get you a teething toy,” he said.

Badgerclops was about to throw the weird stick away when he realized it wasn't a stick. It was already marked with teeth marks, red with a golden tip, and hollow. This wasn’t a stick. It was Mao Mao’s sheath. Why was it out here? Was this where Mao Mao was last night?

What was that cat bastard doing?

* * *

Mao Mao ignored his grumbling stomach. He wasn’t in any mood to eat. He'd rather stay here, curled up on the couch, until the end of time. It was a good place. Soft. Warm. It was genuinely a good place, yet, why did he feel so miserable? His head was filled with fog, his body ached and every time he convinced himself to get up he suddenly felt everything escape him. His strength fled, his courage escaped, and will to keep going receded further back than it already had. He didn’t have Tanya. He didn't have Badgerclops. He didn’t have his son. He didn’t even have self-respect. How horrifying to know he could lose what little he had left. At least he still had the couch.

Mao Mao was getting very comfortable with it too when there was a knock at the door. First, he thought it was Badgerclops, but he has a key. And if he forgot it he’d just spend a second to make one. It couldn’t be Adorabat. She’d sooner crash through the window than knock.

“Hello? Is this the police,” said the voice. On any other day, Mao Mao might’ve answered the door, but right now he just rolled over.

Mao Mao covered his ear best he could with one arm.

“Excuse me? Is anyone there?”

Mao Mao snuggled himself deeper into the cushions.

“Please. My daughter is missing.”

Mao Mao finally pried himself away from the cushions. Not out of concern or sympathy, he just couldn’t stand hearing this stranger bang against his door or his stupid, whiny, nasaly voice. His legs felt heavy from lack of use, or maybe that was hunger. He couldn’t tell. The floor seemed uneven making him stumble as he approached the door. He tripped, falling to his knees. He would’ve hit his face if he hadn’t stabbed Geraldine into the floorboards. Badgerclops wasn’t going to like that.

Even then, he was forced to lean against it to catch his breath.

“Hello,” said the other side.

God! This dude’s voice made him want to tear his ears off. Mao Mao threw open the door, heaving for breath, leaning against the side of it to stand. He only says the usual expanse. The hill HQ rests on, the forest beneath the hills, and the town in the distance. Was he hearing voices? Sure, he wasn’t exactly taking care of himself, but he didn’t think he reached that point yet.

“Are you the sheriff?”

Mao Mao pointed his gaze down in the direction of the voice. He almost asked Adorabat what the hell she was doing when he squinted and took a closer look. It wasn’t Adorabat. Looked a lot like her though. A bat barely over a foot tall with a strange blue hue. A sweetiepie definitely, but one he’s never seen before. How strange.

“Who are you, no, what are you here for,” Mao Mao asked.

“My name is Eugene. I’m looking for my daughter-” Mao Mao tuned out after that. No need listening to him when he’s speaking a mile a minute. Eugene, huh. Weird name for a Sweetipie. He thought his name would be something weird like Gumball, or Flapjack, or even Parker. No, not Parker. That’d be too weird. Does he have a surname? Is it as weird as his first name? Mao Mao was going to ask when he realized Eugene was still talking.

“-can you help me?”

“No,” he said flatly.

Eugene deflated with a pathetic sigh of defeat until Mao Mao spoke up again”-but Badgerclops, might.”

“Where is Badgerclops,” Eugene stammered.

“Out.”

“Oh...Do you know when he’ll be back?”

“No. Guess you gotta wait.”

Mao Mao spun on his heels ready to crawl back on the couch and lie there for eternity, when he noticed the tiny little man walking past him. Strange, he didn’t remember inviting him in. The tiny little bastard sat down on the loveseat with the infuriating awkwardness of patience.

Should he kick him? Probably?

Will he ignore Eugene and just crawl back onto the couch? Definitely.

And crawl onto the couch he did. He climbed onto the couch, wrapping himself in his cape. He kicked Eugene to the side , earning a nasally whine from the fool, to create space and once he had it he curled up and went back to his misery. This misery was different from the benign wasting away he was doing before. It was something more embarrassing. He was being watched. It made him want to hide under the covers and be mistaken for a rock. Maybe if he was mistaken enough, he’d actually become one.

“What's your name,” asked Eugene.

Of course, this fool wanted to talk. Mao Mao released a heavy sigh,” Mao Mao.”

“That’s a weird name.”

Yesterday, Mao Mao probably would’ve kicked him in the face. Now, he didn’t have enough pride to do that. He should’ve expected that’d be a name in a place like this.

“So, what do you do here?”

Mao Mao’s first instinct was to say sheriff, but that wasn’t really accurate anymore. “I make things worse,” he said.

Eugene nodded and shifted unfortunately before settling into a comfortable silence. Unfortunately, it didn’t last too long.

“You wouldn't have happened to see my daughter, would you?”

Mao Mao let out a non-committal grunt.

“She’s about a foot tall, blue, takes after her father that way, and cute as a button, but if I’m being totally honest, she scares me.”

Mao Mao stiffened. He knew a certain child that he’d describe the exact same way… He sat up, turning to face Eugene. “Your daughter wouldn’t happen to also be kinda naive, have a taste for adventure, and be extremely loud?”

“Yeah, she’s exactly like that.”

Mao Mao sat there. Mouth hanging wide open as the horrible reality dawned on him. He thought Adorabat was an orphan or something. He thought she was a ward of the state. An orphan! This was like accidentally adopting someone’s pet except a thousand times worse! Eugene was Adorabat’s dad. Mao Mao hyperventilated as he thought. How would he explain this? Summer camp? No, summer’s coming to an end. An internship? No, she’s eight! They’d have to give her back. He couldn’t just keep the child here. It's not like he was fit to be a parent.

Mao Mao stopped thinking, shocked by his own realization.

He wasn’t fit to be a hero, let alone someone else’s caregiver. He couldn't even be a parent to his own child, god forbid anyone else’s. He was a mistake. A failure. He ruined everything he got his hands on. Like a lumbering beast that just How long would it be until he broke her too? Mao Mao took a deep breath. He wasn’t happy with what he had to do, but he was prepared to do what he must.

“Are you okay,” Eugene asked.

He wished people would just stop asking him that.

Both of them looked up when they heard something thump outside.

“Ow, you’ve got to be careful with that.”

That was Badgerclops. Was he and Adorabat back already? Oh geez, he hadn’t even had time to think what to say.

And he would get no time. Badgerclops strolled in like nothing was wrong, but when Adorabat caught sight of Eugene it looked like she ate something sour.

Immediately, Eugene rushed to his child

“I am so glad you’re safe,” Eugene said,” let’s go home.”

“What? No. Let me go,” Adorabat said, pushing herself away.

Badgerclops interviewed. Prying the two of them apart with ease. “What on earth is going on here,” Badgerclops asked.

“Wha- what’s going on here? Have you two ruffians kidnapped my daughter?”

“Wait- that’s not--”

“That’s it. I’m calling the authorities.”

Eugene pulled out his phone and dialed 911 only for the cell in Mao Mao’s pocket to go off.

“Alright, before we call the cops on the cops, I need to know what the hells going on.”

“That’s… Adorabat’s dad,” Mao Mao told him.

“I thought she was my conscious.”

Weird thing to say, but Mao Mao set it aside for now. However, Eugene did not. “You’re conscious?” Eugene wriggled free with his daughter in tow. “That’s it. We’re leaving these crazies.” He said, carrying while Adorabat kicked and screamed. Eventually, Adorabat won. Shaking free from his grasp and continuing her tantrum with renewed vitriol and vigor.

This wasn’t going well at all. He somehow accidentally kidnapped a kid, and he had just about called the cops on them. He’d be in jail if the justice system wasn’t so wack. Hell, he had half the mind to arrest himself. Why’d this have to happen? Why’d he ever get up from the couch to answer the door? He knew he should've stayed like that forever.

Badgerclops turned him around without warning. A grim expression on his face. “What are we going to do?”

What? Why are you asking him? You’re the one who made good decisions. He should be asking you!. Mao Mao began to hyperventilate. Sheer terror had him in its grasp and it was beginning to squeeze his throat. What to do? What to do? What could he do? He’s the one who never did anything right. Words escaped him, actions failed him. It's not like he could ignore Eugene and keep his kid. What could he do?

He could only do what he thought was right.

Mao Mao got up and marched towards Adorabat and Eugene. “What- what are you doing?” The words passed right over Mao Mao’s ears. He pushed Adorabat and her father right out the door and slammed it shut behind him, locking the locks, bolting the bolts, and putting his back against it. He could hear Adorabat scream and shout from the other side. It gradually grew quieter and quieter as her father pulled her away.

So that was that. The problem had been fixed. He’d done the right thing. So why did Mao Mao feel so… awful? He fell down to his knees and wrapped himself in his cape. Did the world really hate him that much? He’d give up doing anything, and the world literally brought a problem to his doorstep. He didn’t even do anything? Why did he deserve this?

“Are you okay over there,” Badgerclops asked?

Would people stop asking that! He felt Badgerclops pick him up and lay him back down on the couch where Mao Mao promptly curled back up. Badgerclops stroked his ears, soothing Mao Mao like it would help anything.

#Mao Mao #Badgerclops #MMHOPH #Fanfic #MissingArm!AU #ao3 tags #Archive of our own

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mileycyprus-hill · 5 years

Text

Has anyone else thought of this? If not, hear me out for a second!

What if, instead of Arthur sleeping with Eliza after his breakup with Mary...he sleeps with the reader? And gets her pregnant instead? 🙌🏻Strap in folks, we’re going for a ride.

Arthur x female reader

Mistakes

warnings: small mention of suicide, smut, smut, smut, cursing, drinking.

You’ve been a part of the gang shortly after John joined in. Age wise, you’re in between John and Arthur and are really good friends with both of them. Perhaps more so with Arthur.

You come back to your camp outside Blackwater after a successful hunt. You were away for about 12 hours - shorter than usual - as the antelope are flourishing in your area.

The gang is fairly small in numbers, but very close with each other. You treat Dutch and Hosea like your adoptive fathers, and you seem to be the only one Ms. Grimshaw truly gets along with. She’s still hard on you when it comes to chores. But whenever there’s lady issues, you can trust her to be kind and understanding.

Everyone seems to be settled in camp, except one person who seems to be missing. You look around and don’t see Arthur anywhere.

It’s not uncommon for him to be gone on a job or a lead, but he’s been gone for at least three days. Normally, he calls on you to go with him on long trips for support. Whether that’s moral support, or just another helping hand to carry robbed goods. He knows he can trust you.

As you look, your eyes spot John carrying hay over to the horses at the corner of camp. You quickly walk over to him as he drops the bale.

“Hey John.”

“Hey, Y/N.”

You don’t beat around the bush.

“Hey, where’s Arthur been? I’ve barely seen him these past few days.”

“I saw him yesterday coming through. You must’ve been gone ‘cause he didn’t stay long.” John answers. “I guess he only stopped by to grab some things and then he ran off.” John points over to Arthur’s tent as he speaks. “He looked in such a sour mood. So I didn’t say nothin’.”

“He’s always in a sour mood, isn’t he?” You joke.

John laughs. You two were like twins, despite you having a couple years over him. Arthur was always the big brother who loved pestering the both of you. As the three of you grew together, the closer you became in different ways. With John, it turned from an intense sibling rivalry to a close brother/sister bond. With Arthur, it turned from relentless fighting to a budding romance - at least on one end it felt that way.

“Ask Hosea...” John says. He must have noticed the worry on your face.

Was it that obvious?

“...I saw Arthur talking to him before he ran off.” John continues.

You reply, “Thanks,” and slap his shoulder gently. John smacks your hand away playfully. The two of you snicker as you separate. You walk over to Hosea.

Hosea must’ve heard you walking over to him, as he keeps his nose in his newspaper, “Y/N! How’s things?”

“Alright,” you answer. Plopping down on a chair in front of his table. Resting your elbows on the table, you fidget with your fingernails. There’s an uncomfortable silence.

Hosea, being the ever-loving parent, doesn’t need to look up from his paper to sense your worry. You hated that he could see right through you at times. You couldn’t keep anything from your adopted father.

“Something on your mind, dear?” Hosea asks.

You take a breath, trying your best to hide your concern for Arthur. You didn’t want to come across as clingy, but unbeknownst to you, Hosea already knew about your feelings for Arthur.

“Just...you seen Arthur anywhere?” you answer nervously.

Hosea finally drops a corner of his newspaper to peer over at you. An eyebrow raised. It drove you crazy seeing him look at you that way, like he already knows what you’re about to say.

But then his expression changes. He folds his newspaper and sets it neatly on the table. His eyebrows now furrowed and his mouth turned to a slight frown.

Hosea sighs, “Figured you should know by now that things are done between him and that Mary Gillis.”

You immediately sit up straight at this news. Your eyes have gone wide. Your mouth drops open to ask, but Hosea already answers.

“Yep.” Hosea sighs again. “Guess she finally came to her senses...Or perhaps daddy made up her mind for her.”

Hosea reaches into his pocket to grab his pipe and fills it with tobacco.

“Seems our little Romeo and Juliet are no more.”

He looks out to the horizon as he speaks. You can tell he truly feels bad for them. Not everyone may have agreed with their relationship, but Hosea only wished for Arthur’s happiness. Much like you did.

Your heart broke for Arthur. You were jealous of Mary, but you didn’t despise her. You just hoped she could give Arthur the happiness he deserved.

You often hoped you could give him that happiness.

“Is...he ok?” You finally ask.

Hosea looks to you fondly, “Well, for someone who’s just had their heart broken...I’d guess he’s alright. Just needs some time to get through it.”

“Where is he now?” you ask. You know having your heart broken can cause you to make some foolish decisions. You just wanted to make sure Arthur wouldn’t do anything he’d later regret. Much like he probably regrets his prior engagement to Mary right now.

“He told me he’s camping on his own nearby...Said he wanted to be alone for a little while.” Hosea stares at you as he utters that last sentence, hoping to emphasize it for you.

You scoff a little and shake your head.

“Please.” You say. “I just wanna see if he’s okay.”

Hosea lights his pipe and studies you across the table.

“He went North,” he finally says, pointing his pipe in that direction. “Not too far out. Several miles, I’d say.”

“Thanks,” you say as you rise to your feet.

You turn your back and begin to walk away when Hosea calls.

“You’re a good friend, Y/N.”

You turn to Hosea, and he gives you a wink. You smirk and start walking over to the horses to saddle your own. John has already finished unloading the last bale for the horses and is resting under a nearby tree.

“Where’you goin’ now?” he asks, tiredly. For a scrawny young man, he sure tires easily from physical labor. But he still works hard, unlike Uncle.

“Nowhere,” you lie. Heaving your saddle and horse blanket onto your steed.

Your horse is a beautiful black thoroughbred you stole from a rich stable owner, one who trains racehorses. Your horse was supposed to be the man’s prize stud, but his temperament was so unruly, he was gelded and trained to run the tracks. That horse never made it to the tracks though because of you. You wanted him. After successfully stealing him with Arthur’s help, you decided to name him König.

Arthur wouldn’t stop making fun of you for that.

“Kahn-nig?” Arthur reads the etching on his leather halter, “What kinda name is that?”

“It’s ‘coo-nic’ you dummy,” you laugh at him, lifting your chin and tapping your throat, “nic, in the back of the throat. ‘nich’. ”

“Kooo-nick...Well, what the hell is that?” Arthur asks.

You laugh again, “It’s German. It means ‘king.’ My grandma only spoke German. Remember?”

“Yeah, I remember. ‘Member her being a wild, crab-ass of a woman too,” Arthur drawls.

You slap his shoulder with the back of your hand as he laughs boisterously, yourself hiding a smile.

You’re jogged back from your memories as John gently pushes you.

“Liar,” John calls you, smirking.

You try to smirk back and jeer at him in response, but you’re distracted. Your thoughts are only on Arthur.

“Helloooo.....Y/N! What’s with you?”

You cinch the girth of the saddle and look to John, “Sorry. I- I’m just thinkin’.”

“ ‘bout what?” he asks. Your horse is saddled and bridled as you walk to your tent to grab the rest of your things. John walks alongside you.

“Arthur...’m gonna go see if he’s alright,” you respond.

John stops with a annoyed groan and looks up to the sky, rolling his eyes.

“Let him go, Y/N. He’s just out there brooding as usual. He’ll be fine.” he states. “He’s probably in a mood ‘cause of Mary.”

“Well that’s just it,” you look to him as you grab your bedroll and supplies from your tent. “It is about Mary. And I know if someone broke my heart, I’d want someone to talk to. I got you, but... Arthur doesn’t have anyone else.”

John sighs in defeat, “Whatever.”

You walk past him towards König, putting on your satchel.

“Just give him one of these for me,” John punches you hard in the arm.

“Ow!” you yell, rubbing your arm.

“Tell him I said ‘Hi’. ” John laughs and jogs away from your retaliation punch.

“Asshole!” you yell to him, your arm still sore. You hear his wheezy laugh in the distance and turn back towards your horse.

It only takes a couple of hours to find Arthur’s little camp. The sun sets and the sky is painted in strokes of beautiful pink, orange, and purple ribbons. You look above the tips of the emerald trees and view the clouds reflecting the wonderful hues. It makes you feel so small looking at the vast sky. Taking in the scenery, you trot König towards the low plume of smoke from Arthur’s fire, hidden within a patch of trees and shrubs.

At the sound of hoofbeats, Arthur quickly stands with his hand hovering over his gun belt, ready to draw his revolver.

“Arthur?” you gently call out, hands raised, as if trying to avoid spooking a wild animal. “It’s me. Y/N.”

You see Arthur relax a bit, but he doesn’t look pleased.

“What’r you doin’ here?” he gruffly asks, the timbre of his voice like rich black coffee poured over gravel.

You halt König by a tree next to Arthur’s horse and dismount, patting him on his massive neck.

“Figured I’d check on you to make sure you didn’t kill yourself,” you say as you approach his fire.

Arthur plops onto the ground next to his fire, eyeing the small dancing flames.

“Perhaps I should,” he responds, “Be best for everyone if I do.”

You stand at the fire, looking down solemnly at Arthur. He throws a pebble into the fire, sulking.

“You don’t mean that.” you say gently.

Arthur looks up at you, but quickly looks away. In that brief moment, you could see his bloodshot eyes. You could see he was in pain, though he attempts to hide himself beneath his hat. A wet sniffle reaches your ears as he shrugs his shoulders in response. You step over and sit down by him near the fire, the dirt is soft and warm beneath you.

“You wanna talk about it?” You ask him carefully. Arthur is like a trap: you try to avoid reaching him in a way that causes him to close up, making it harder for you to pry him back open...if you can at all.

Arthur quietly shakes his head, fumbling with the toe of his boot. He grabs his neckerchief from around his neck and wipes under his nose with another harsh sniffle.

“You’d feel better if you do...instead of bottling it all up. You’re bound to explode if you don’t.” You reassure him. “But, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Silence.

You don’t push any further. Instead of forcing your way in, you wait patiently and let him come to you when he’s ready, like taming a wild dog.

A few moments pass as you both sit in silence. The sunset now gone as the sky is blanketed in stars. You take off your satchel and dig through its contents.

“Here,” you pull out a bottle of rum. “Want some? There’s not much left, but it’s enough.” You shake the bottle gently, swirling the contents inside.

Arthur scans the bottle in your hands. “Shoah,” he whispers. You hand him the bottle and hear the cork slightly pop with a *fwoomp* as he opens it.

The two of you hand the bottle back and forth to each other. Neither of you say a word, only taking another shot of rum. The only sounds coming out of your mouths are the hisses you make at the warm sting of the rum.

You finish it rather quickly, as it was only half-full. But still a decent sized bottle. Tossing it into the fire, you sigh. Your body feels warm and loose, wrapped in a spiritual cocoon of cotton and distilled molasses. You feel ultimately relaxed.

You look up to see Arthur laying another dead log on the fire, stirring the embers as golden sparks dance into the air like fireflies. He returns to his spot next to you, sitting closer.

You continue looking over at him and notice his eyes are now slightly hooded behind his eyelids. He seems to have relaxed a little as well, but still has a gloomy look on his face. He looks to you from the corner of his eyes. You notice and quickly avert your gaze to the growing fire in front of you. You decide to move closer to the warmth of the flames as the chill of the night air gets to you. It still amazes you how cold it gets when the sun goes down in this arid climate.

Pulling your knees to your chest, you rest your arms on your knees, your chin on top of your arms.

“Got a spare blanket?” You ask him, still gazing into the fire. You can feel him stare at you, so you turn your head to him, now resting your cheek on your arms.

His features are softened in the orange glow of the fire. You can’t help but smile a bit at how handsome he looks. He always made your heart flutter when he winked at you with those gorgeous eyes. Or when his nose crinkled as he smiled and laughed at your jokes. You would give him anything and everything to make him happy.

“No...” he finally answers, breaking eye contact and looking over to his shelter. “But’chou can have mine.”

Despite your protest in taking his only blanket, he slowly gets up and walks over to his small tent. It’s more of a lean-to than a proper tent. The effects of the rum rush to his head as he loses his footing a bit, showing his slight inebriation.

You didn’t think that the rum would hit him that hard, as you only feel tipsy yourself.

“Have you eaten anything lately?” you query.

“Besides whiskey and that rum of yours? No,” he mumbles. “Ain’t hungry.”

After handing you his blanket, he plops down next to you again. His leg brushes against yours as he clumsily adjusts himself to sit comfortably.

“I should get you something to eat, Arthur. Otherwise, you’ll be sick in the morning.” You ready yourself to get up and walk to your horse until Arthur grabs your wrist.

“I said I ain’t hungry!” he pulls you back down angrily. His nostrils flaring as he looks at the fire, avoiding eye contact with you.

“Ow, geez! Alright, Arthur...god.” You hiss. He nearly popped your elbow out of place when he pulled you down. You rub at your wrist, the knees of your trousers are rubbed with dirt. Arthur hadn’t been physical like this towards you in years. It was only when you really pissed him off, usually during your shenanigans with John to get under his skin.

Suddenly, you notice Arthur huffing, breathing in short heavy breaths through his nose. In the firelight, his eyes have turned glassy. He appears to be holding back tears.

His voice is hushed, “I just don’t understand.”

You look at him silently, letting him gather his thoughts to continue. He continues staring at the fire, like he’s speaking to it instead of you.

He looks up to the stars with a sniffle, “I thought she was gonna marry me...said she would, but...”

His breaths are ragged as he holds himself back, biting his lip.

“We’ve been fightin’. Fightin’ so much lately. And then she told me that–that she can’t live with someone like me. That...if I can’t change –won’t change –” he pauses. He can’t bring himself to continue.

A moment of silence passes and you rest your hand on his knee. You caress the fabric of his jeans with your thumb, feeling the bone of his knee beneath the material.

Normally, Arthur would tense at the touch. But this was you, he trusts you. You were always there to comfort him, like the good friend you are. When it comes to fighting, you’ve seen Mary and him argue from time to time. Mary never liked arguing though. She would always recoil and shed a small tear, asking Arthur to ‘be considerate’. Arthur liked arguing, with anyone and everyone. Including you. Sometimes you’d get him riled up on purpose; say something to him that you knew would get him pissed. You liked getting him mad, and he knew it, and he’d do the same to you, much to Mary’s dismay.

She was always trying to cage the bear in him, but you regularly let him loose.

Arthur continues to explain, “She said...a lady of her standing has to think of other prospects. That she has her family’s reputation to uphold...whatever that means.”

Finally, you speak. “It means she wants you to change but isn’t willing to do the same for you.”

Arthur finally looks to you, “Well, she has. I mean...look at what she’s done with us.” He tries to defend. Even in heartbreak, he still sides with Mary. She really did have a hold on him.

“Really, Arthur?” You question him, holding his his gaze, his eyebrows furrowed, lips pursed tightly. He’s rethinking their whole relationship, dropping his head at the realization.

“I love her,” he says defeatedly. He rests his head in his hands, rubbing at his eyes.

“I know, Arthur.”

Truth be told, your heart breaks too. You never had a chance to tell Arthur how you feel about him. Once he was with Mary, you thought your opportunity was gone forever. Now that you have a chance, you still can’t bring yourself to do it, to tell him that there’s someone else waiting for him. Someone else who is willing to take him for who he is. But it’s too soon.

Arthur sighs, his voice breaking, “I wish I can forget about ‘er. Make the pain go away.”

You sit there thinking, “Well, I know something that could help.”

Arthur turns, staring at you like you’re a magician ready to turn a trick.

“It’s not like you’ll forget her forever, but at least for a moment you can. You wanna come with me to town? Get some drinks at the saloon?”

The idea of getting drunk with you in town made Arthur give you a teary smile. You are best friends after all. You always were a good time...when you weren’t fighting with him.

Arthur nods his head, “That sounds good.”

“On one condition,” you point, “You gotta promise me you’ll eat something.” You give him a wicked smirk.

Arthur chuckles, his eyes still bloodshot. His expression is a bit more cheerful. “Okay,” he mumbles.

You help Arthur tear down his shelter and fire and mount up on your horses. Before riding into town, you head back to camp to tell Dutch and Hosea. The last time you didn’t, you caused a ruckus in town and Dutch chewed your asses out for days. That was tame compared to the tongue lashing you both received from Hosea when he bailed you out of jail. It took you both a month to get the money to pay him back.

Luckily, Dutch and Hosea let you go to town. But only if you two promised not to cause trouble again. They threatened they wouldn’t bail you out this time.

Making it into town, you both step into the saloon. Arthur saves the both of you a table at the far, dark corner of the building, as a precaution to stay out of trouble. You’re left at the bar to order drinks, and a simple meal for Arthur. He must’ve lived off of nothing but whiskey for the past few days because he didn’t appear to sober up. Which means you’ve got some catching up to do. You sneak a double shot of whiskey before walking over with your beers and a humble bowl of stew.

“Here,” You say, sliding the porcelain bowl in front of him, grabbing his hand and wrapping his fingers around the spoon as if he’s a child learning how to eat.

“Eat that, and I’ll let you have a beer,” you bargain.

Arthur sighs with a frustrated huff. He wasn’t one to break promises, but he loved disobeying you. He’d always claim he didn’t have to listen to you because he’s older. But time and time again, you prove him wrong on so many levels. He didn’t want to resist you tonight, he’s far too hungry, but far too proud to admit he’s hungry. So wordlessly, he shovels the beef and vegetable stew into his mouth, holding back groans at the delicious taste.

Time has quickly passed throughout the night, along with several jaunty tunes on the piano, and a table full of beers between you two. You’re entering the twilight hours as the number of patrons begins to filter out like the candlelights on the walls, but the night is still young for you. You both find yourselves chatting about everything and nothing. From an outside glance, it’s as if the pair of you haven’t seen each in other in months, and are now catching up and relishing in each other’s stories. Somehow, the topic of conversation veers to the subject of “who has had the best sexual conquests”...

“Nuh-uh! You and Mary?” You pretend to be shocked. You’re only slightly shocked at the knowledge that he and Mary were physically intimate. She would be a fool not to sleep with Arthur. You just didn’t want to believe in the thought of the two of them in bed.

In fact, the image made your blood boil.

“Yup.” Arthur replies, popping the ‘p’.

“She was real good too,” he continues to boast.

“Pffft! Yeah, right,” you scoff, taking another swig of beer. You hold a belch in your mouth.

Arthur is offended at your scoff.

“She was!” He defends. “She would—” he laughs. “She would sneak outta her room and meet me in the barn. We’d lay down in the straw, real nice and...Y’know.” He waves his hand to make his point.

“Do tell,” you say to him, resting your chin on your hand as if you’re entranced by his story.

“Shuttup...” he replies. He can see right through your façade. He knows you’re mocking him.

“She’s the best woman I ever had.” He says lovingly. He stares down at his bottle, only a swig of beer left. He guzzles it down.

“She knew how to please me,” he smiles.

“Doubt it.” You cut in, holding the tip of your bottle to your lips.

Arthur’s head snaps up at your jest, looking at you in disbelief. That familiar look of annoyance paints across his face.

“What?” he asks, his voice rising an octave.

“I guarantee you she was not the best lay you ever had,” you state with confidence. “If anyone knows how to please a man, it’s me!”

Arthur is speechless. He looks at you with his jaw dropped, swaying back and forth slightly in his seat from the booze. His world is spinning.

“I bet she’d just lay there like a dead fish and just take it. Hmm?” You ask.

Now perhaps you’re taking things too far.

“I bet she was too ladylike to do it out in the woods, y’know? Ride you like a bronco...”

The resonance in your voice drops to a whispering, sultry tone,

“Out in the wilderness at your camp. By the fire, naked...out in the open. Howling so loud that the coyotes join in.”

Without realizing, you’re holding the neck of your bottle between your index finger and thumb and began stroking. You’re too busy staring down Arthur.

At his lack of response, you take your chance.

“I’ll bet you that I can do a better job in just one night, than she ever did with you.”

What the fuck are you doing?

You silence your conscience.

Arthur’s eyes run up and down your face. You could swear that he even sneaks a quick look to your breasts, your silky skin exposed through the open buttons of your blouse. You forgot you undid the top three buttons in the heat of the crowded saloon.

“You really think so?” Arthur asks softly, the gruff of his voice causes the hairs on your neck to stand straight up.

You reply slowly, “I guarantee you...that I can make you cum faster than she could.”

Arthur eyes you with hooded lids, giving a devilish smirk. When he leans across the table, you can faintly detect the smell of yeast from his beer breath.

“Prove it.” He growls.

Your heart is beating frantically. You were joking, of course.

But, every joke has a kernel of truth.

You keep your composure as you don’t want to ruin this moment. You know Arthur is calling your bluff. But this is your only chance at finally getting him to yourself. Your chance to finally get what you want.

“Alright,” you say coyly. “Gimme a second.”

You rise to your feet, not very gracefully, mind you. The beer is dulling your senses but you continue to the bar. You pay for a room upstairs.

You leisurely strut back to the table with confidence, thanks to the beer. Arthur watches you the entire time, not breaking eye contact. When you reach the table, you barely falter your stride and lightly grasp his hand, “C’mon,” you beckon him. You hold the key to the room in your other hand, leading Arthur up the stairs to the door of the bedroom.

You can’t help but tease him as you softly moan while slowly inserting the key into the keyhole. Arthur steps closer to you as you turn the knob. You can feel his heat behind you as you step into the room. If you were to bend over right now, your ass would brush against his crotch, perfectly. You turn to him, he silently closes the door behind him. Neither of you has uttered a word yet, just staring into each other’s eyes with mischievous smiles.

Your eyes wander down to his muscular neck, his shoulders, the dip at the base of his throat exposed by the open button of his shirt. Taking two steps forward, you gently push him into the door, placing both hands on his chest. Your fingertips brush against his exposed skin, your faces mere inches apart, the smell of beer and rum now strong in your nostrils. The tips of your noses faintly touch, as you both breathe heavy, calculated breaths.

Arthur’s hands are now at your waist, resting on your love handles. The touch of his bulky, calloused fingers send goosebumps to your skin. You’re lazily unbuttoning his shirt as he explores your hips with his massive hands. You tip your chin up and brush your lips against his. His hands now wandered to your upper back, and he pulls you closer to him. Your hands are pinned between your bodies, and you feel his luscious, wet lips against yours. They feel so soft compared to the coarseness of his beard. Arthur may hate dealing with his facial hair, but you love it. The way his follicles scratch against your upper lip and cheeks make you wet.

Your bodies are now pressed against each other. Reaching down past Arthur’s belt, you feel for his cock. It’s now bulging against his jeans. You lightly squeeze and rub over his pants. Arthur gasps, his tongue in your mouth. You chase his tongue with your own. Your teeth click against each other awkwardly in your drunken stupor. You’re ravaging him, pinning him against the door and continuously grabbing at his thick bulge.

Arthur moves his left hand from your back to your breasts, his right hand is on your supple rear. He grips your cheeks tightly, pushing your groins together. Continuing to moan into your wet kisses, he grabs at your breast and squeezes. You gasp and moan into his mouth, eventually breaking the kiss to take a breath.

Moving to his brawny neck, you litter it with kisses, teasing him with bites and suckles that leave behind marks. Your hand still on his bulge, you feel his cock pulsating as his blood continues to rush south. You decided to free it from its confines. The sound of his belt clinking as you unbuckle it is the most beautiful sound in the world, like you’re opening the gates to heaven. His gun belt drops the floor with a heavy *clunk*. Continuing to his fly, you unzip it, brushing off his suspenders at the same time. You pull your head away from his neck to look down at his cock.

“Oh my god,” You breathe.

“What?” Arthur asks with genuine concern, bless his heart.

“It’s...so big.” You exclaim.

It’s so thick and hard in your hands.

You wrap your fingers around it, but it’s so fat that you can barely connect your fingers. It’s like stroking a fleshy rod, it’s so hard.

You admire it. While it seems to be the same length as most men you’ve been with, there was something special about it. Gently pulling back his foreskin as you stroke him, you notice the girth of his cock bows out, starting right below the head and straightening out again further down the base.

Arthur stops massaging your breast and leans his head back against the door with a gravelly moan. You continue stroking his fat cock from base to tip until you see that glorious pearly bead of pre-cum on his tip.

I wonder if his precious Mary has ever done this? You think to yourself as you drop to your knees and pull Arthur’s trousers down to his ankles. Using the tip of your tongue, you lick the bead of pre-cum off the tip, causing his penis to throb.

Arthur sucks in a breath, “What’r’you doin?”

You look up at him, licking your lips seductively, his cock in your one hand and his balls massaged in the other. Compared to the men you’ve seen, Arthur definitely has the biggest set of them all. They feel so soft and warm as you admire them in your hand. You almost need both hands to cup them.

“Hasn’t anyone ever pleased you like this before, Arthur?” You wink at him as you lick the head of his cock again, then enveloping your lips on it, giving it a sloppy kiss.

“N-n-nooo.” He tries to groan out the words.

“No?” Your voice rises in surprise. “Tsk. What a shame,” you groan.

You don’t even give him a second to breathe before completely taking him in your mouth. You notice it’s been a while since he bathed as you taste him- a hint of saltiness- but you don’t mind. You moan, sending vibrations through his cock as you slowly bob your head. Looking up, you see Arthur’s eyes are now squinted shut in intense pleasure, breathing short shallow breaths, his hands hovering by your face, afraid to touch you. You wonder how long you could go on sucking him. You can handle all of his length no problem, but the issue was that bow in his girth. You could already feel your jaw getting sore, worried his thickness could pop it out of place.

It doesn’t take long though.

You continue to slurp along his cock, roaming your tongue upon his veins, relishing in the quiet moans and hisses coming from his plump lips. You take both hands and explore beyond his muscular hips and thighs, going around to grab onto his ass cheeks, feeling the dimples on the sides of his cheeks along the way. You continue sucking him hands-free, looking up at him, and he finally looks down at you. Seeing himself inside the mouth of a beautiful woman must have set him over the edge, as he involuntarily thrusts into your mouth. You sense he’s about to cum.

Immediately, you pop your mouth off his cock, denying him his release. Arthur gives a loud, rough groan at this denial and looks at you with passion in his eyes. You rise to your feet and feel his bulky hands grab harshly at your waist, yelping and giggling in surprise. Arthur rests his forehead against yours, his hands returning to grope your rear. You’re secretly begging for him to rip your trousers off and take you, as you’re soaking in anticipation. His mouth moves to your ear.

He whispers in a low growl, “Go lay down.”

You obey and step backwards, hitting the bed with the back of your knees, causing you to fall back gently onto the soft mattress. The springs squeak as you land. Meanwhile, Arthur kicks off his boots and removes the rest of his jeans that have pooled at his ankles, never breaking eye contact with you.

Lucky for you, there’s a full moon tonight, and the window curtains are torn, allowing the moonlight to shine into the dark room. Arthur stands completely naked before you, his skin glowing in the pale moonlight, the shadows accentuating every dip and curve of his muscles. He looks to be made of marble or porcelain, as if he’s been carved by Michaelangelo himself.

As he approaches you like a prowling wolf ready to strike its prey, your heartbeat races with excitement. You watch his dick lightly bounce up and down with each languid step he takes. He hovers over you on the bed, the springs of the mattress groan under his weight as he places both hands on either side of you. He moves to kiss you again. You can faintly taste the rum, now overpowered by beer and a hint of beef broth from the stew.

He’s much more aggressive with his tongue now, slipping it into your mouth and demanding control. You feel a warm hand slip under your shirt, caressing the skin of your stomach before stopping at your silky, soft breasts. In one smooth motion, Arthur pulls your shirt up over your head and tosses it on the floor, exposing you to him. For a moment, you feel self-conscious as he stops and stares at your naked torso. You begin to wonder if it’s not good enough for him, but you’re quickly mistaken as he drops his head to your chest and devours you, sucking and twirling his tongue on your left nipple while kneading the other with his hand. You let out a surprised and pleading moan at the sensation, the room filled with your raspy ‘oh’s’ and ‘ah’s’.

You let Arthur take more of you into his mouth as you arch your back off the bed, tenderly holding his head with both hands, pushing your breasts together as you do so. Arthur moans, sending a wonderful vibration onto your sensitive nipple. He picks his head up slightly, lips still latched onto your nipple, continuously sucking until it pops out of his mouth. He moves over to your other breast and repeats.

Writhing beneath him in pleasure, you desperately want to take your pants off, as they must be soaking wet by now. You move a hand from his luscious locks of hair and lower it between your bodies. Slipping your hand beneath your waistband, you rub a finger towards your opening and feel the juices pooling.

Arthur notices and straightens himself up, still straddling you and sitting back on his heels, his huge set conveniently resting on the fly of your trousers. He moves a burly hand to your crotch, unbuttoning the fly effortlessly with his lengthy fingers, the other slowly stroking his cock. A gasp escapes your lips at the feeling of his rough fingers exploring your vagina, his thumb hovering your clit. He slips a finger tenderly into your opening...then another.

“Damn, Y/N.” he sighs, “You’re soaked.”

You grin and bite your lower lip. Arching your hips, you wordlessly give Arthur permission to remove your pants, raising your butt off the bed. With both hands, he effortlessly slips your trousers off, taking your boots off with them, leaving you completely naked as you lean back on your elbows.

Arthur returns to hover over you on the bed, both hands on either side of you on the mattress.

“You gonna show me how you please a woman?” you whisper provocatively.

“Thought the deal was you pleasin’ me?” he cites with a wink. His nose brushing against yours.

“Alright then.” You answer, and playfully bite his lower lip. “Lay on your back” you order gently, he gives you a confused look.

“Let me please you,” you assure him.

Arthur obeys and rolls off you to lay on his back. His hands laying idle on his chest. Swinging a leg over, you straddle him, looking down at him. His hands move from his chest to gently grasp your hips, softly rubbing your skin with his thumb. His eyes are gleaming in the bright moonlight. You no longer see sorrow in them, but pleasure. You reach down beneath you to grab his cock and stroke it gently, watching his eyes flutter shut and his lips open to allow a small moan to escape.

Lifting your hips, you lean forward and tease the both of you by rubbing his tip along your clit- the feeling of his sleek head sends a tingle to your core. Placing it right on the edge of your opening, you continue rubbing his cock along the outside of your vagina to lube him with your juices.

Arthur jerks his hips impatiently, so you take your cue. Adjusting your hips, you guide him into your opening, your slick wetness allowing him to slip perfectly inside you. Your breath hitches as you feel the entry of his tip, then comes the stretch of your walls as he slides his girthy member further. You both gasp at the sensation, freezing in place as you make it all the way down the base of his cock. You look into each other’s eyes, your body trembling, lips quivering as you relish in the feeling of his thick cock filling up your tight pussy.

“Oh, Arthur,” you whine.

Arthur tightens his grip on your hips, sinking his fingers deep into your flesh.

You straighten up and begin to steadily grind on his cock, allowing him to stretch your walls out further. Arthur’s eyes roll back in his head and the sound of his guttural moan beckons the return of goosebumps to your skin...like the low rumbling growl of a grizzly bear.

You begin to pick up the speed with his cock deep inside you, Arthur’s hips moving with you in sync. You lean forward on his chest and let him wrap his arms tightly around you, holding you close to him. You feel Arthur’s knees raise as he readies himself in a new position, his feet planted on the bed. He thrusts up into you, hard and quick. The sound of your skin clapping together echoes across the room.

“Oh...God!” you breathe, “You feel so good.”

Arthur groans and tightly shuts his lips.

“So do you,” he finally moans.

He continues to drive his hips upwards at a rapid pace. God, you’ve never laid with a man with so much strength, so much power.

You look up at the ceiling and cry out. You no longer care if anyone hears in the saloon below. You, m’lady, are getting pounded by Arthur Morgan, and you don’t give a damn who hears your screams.

You don’t want it to end. You want this moment to last all night.

“Hang on,” you say. Arthur pauses and releases his grip on you, allowing you to sit up.

Laying a hand on his chest to steady yourself, you bring your knees up and squat on your feet. With Arthur still inside you, you sit on him in a low, frog-like crouch. You bring both hands to his shoulders for stability while you slowly bounce up and down off his cock.

Arthur’s eyes go wide at the sight of you hopping up and down, seeing his penis disappear into you. This position is an amazing new discovery for him. Never has he had a woman ride him like this. The feeling of your lovely bottom smacking against his pelvis, the power of your thighs and calves holding your weight up as you raise and lower yourself on him...it’s enough to make him faint.

Yourself though, you’re quickly losing strength in your legs. You power through the burning in your calves, the twitching in your thighs. You focus your attention on the feeling between your legs, the divine feeling of Arthur’s cock inside you. Luckily, the curls of his pubic hair tickle your clit wonderfully as you hop up and down. You feel so close, and Arthur sounds like he is too. Suddenly, he grabs at your hips again and retakes control, relieving your tired legs. He thrusts upwards and pounds into you at a much more frantic pace, leaving you screaming.

“Oh, Arthur! I’m so close! Cum for me baby!” You shout, your voice high-pitched in ecstasy.

His thrusts falter as he drives himself in you as deep as he can, the two of you gripping each other tightly as you orgasm simultaneously. Explosions of color flash brightly behind your shut eyelids. Your body releases a rush of endorphins, wave after wave like an electric circuit. Once you’ve been released from your orgasms, you’re both left a panting, sweaty mess.

You roll off of him and lay back with a satisfied sigh, breasts heaving with every pant. Your eyes look to the ceiling as your head swims and the room spins.

“I never came like that before,” you confess, slightly embarrassed. Here you were bragging about being the greatses in bed, when you never even got your own rocks off by a man. Most were two-pump chumps who’d leave you high and dry. Well, more like wet and unfulfilled and with stains on your skirt.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Arthur turn his head towards you.

“Really?” He asks inquisitively. You turn to look at him and see a crooked smile on his face. He looks so pleased with himself. Turning back bashfully and laying your forearm across your eyes, you chuckle out a “Yeah.”

“Can’t say I have either,” he admits softly.

Quickly, you turn your head back to him and cock an eyebrow.

“So...I won the bet?” You ask with a big grin.

Arthur stays silent, only shrugging his shoulders and smiling as he rolls over on his side to wrap himself around you. He was never one to admit he’s been proved wrong. So you accepted your victory in silence, rolling to your side to let Arthur spoon you.

It may already be a warm night, but you enjoyed the heat from his body huddled close to you. You feel safe and secure in the weight of his arms, though you worry if you need to pee you might not break out of his heavy embrace. Nevertheless, your eyelids quickly pull down like weighted curtains on a stage, as you fall into a deep sleep.

#i hit the max number of text blocks #tumblr wont let me continue #:(#so stay tuned for more!#a LOT more #cause we gotta know when that baby comes #arthur morgan #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #nsft #fan fiction

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boba-xing · 4 years

Text

Dawning {Chapter 1}

Fem!Reader x Mafia!EXO (OT12)

Warnings: none

---

Seungcheol seems ecstatic at his achievement, although withholding a large amount of information from you.

"Where are we going?" You glance at Seungcheol from the passenger seat, confused on how you ended up in such an expensive car. You're glad you showered and changed clothes, otherwise you'd feel even more uncomfortable in such a luxury vehicle.

"There's a group of...men who are going to look after you, miss."

"But, you said I have inheritance? Can't I just use that to live by myself?" You ask, brain trying desperately to understand the situation,

"Miss-"

"-please just call me ___."

"Yes, mi-I mean ___." He stutters, hand grasping the steering wheel harder as we zoom down the road. "Although you have inherited it, you don't actually have access to it until you turn 20. It was written in the will, and so I am in charge of making sure that money is spent responsibly."

"Then surely these 'people' should be after you? Not me?"

"Mis-___, it's quite complicated, perhaps we could discuss it when we get to our destination." He looks in your direction for a moment before focusing back on the driving.

The car seems to find it's way to a dirt track, leading to an underground tunnel, and then out to a large expanse of greenedy and a huge mansion. The pebble driveway seems to go on for quite a distance before it circles round in front of the building.

Seungcheol pulls the car to a stop, rushing round to let you out and then guiding you carefully to the front door. As soon as our feet touch the steps the front door opens to reveal a cold, cat-like man sending us a vicious glare, however, as soon as he looks at us properly his face softens.

"Please, come in." He motions and you obey, followed by Seungcheol. His actions are friendly yet you can't help the goosebumps that's form in his icy presence. You're intimidated. "You must be ___."

You nod shyly, something which he seems to like.

"Seungcheol told me you'd probably be hungry, why don't you make your way through that door? I believe there's some food waiting for you." His voice is now a lot softer, as though he's talking to a child, and he points out where you should go. You follow his instructions - leaving him to converse with your only protector.

When you turn the corner your eyes are met by several slightly scary men. It takes a moment before one of them speaks up, standing to pull a chair out for you, "Hello, love, you must be ___. Please take a seat."

You sit down hesitantly, blinking nervously as the men's eyes remain on you. The man who just spoke reclaims his seat at the head of the table, "My name's Suho. This is Kris, Jongdae and Kyungsoo. The others should be joining us in a minute."

You nod slightly, glancing at each man as he says their name. When your eyes meet Kyungsoo's an unfamiliar feeling of warmth fills your chest, and you can't help the word that eagerly flies out, "Cute!"

You feel your cheeks lift as a small smile crosses your face, something you are not used to.

The boy's cheeks tint a faint pink, while the others find your own reaction adorable. You're smile is quick to fade as you turn to see other men beginning to enter the room.

"It's okay, sweetheart." the man next to you, Jongdae, gently rubs your arm in hopes of soothing your clear panic. "They're not going to hurt you."

The familiar cat man takes his seat next to Suho, sending a small (clearly unnatural) smile your way. "I'm Xiumin."

You nod in acknowledgment, feeling somewhat comforted by Seungcheol's presence on your other side.

Attempting to keep your eyes down and away from the large gathering of men, you find yourself staring awkwardly at your plate.

"Love."

You look up at Suho, hoping to hide far enough under your hair that you can just disappear.

"You can help yourself, I'm sure you're hungry." He smiles warmly,

Hesitantly, you reach out and place a small spoonful of food onto your plate.

The table seems to be vast, and there are many different dishes. You couldn't have dreamed a more extravagant meal but you slowly become aware that perhaps that's because you were brought up on less than a plate a day. In your mind, this table could feed you for a year, maybe even more.

Seungcheol begins spooning more food onto your plate, realising you're not used to eating a proper meal. His voice is practically a whisper, "I know this isn't what you usually eat, ___, but I'm sure you'll like it."

"What do you usually eat?" Kyungsoo asks, breaking the silence across the table.

His eyes are somewhat soft on you, though looking slightly offended (and from this you deduct he possibly made the food himself).

"___ normally only has a plate a day. Her father's rules." Seungcheol answers for you, frowning. "Usually ramen, rice or bread, with some vegetables on the side."

Kyungsoo nods, still maintaining eye contact with you, "You must be starving. Please, eat as much as you want. I made it myself."

You nod, replicating the soft smile on his face as you take your first spoonful of food and chew through it, swallowing and realising you like the taste. After a while, the boys begin to talk, conversations that you don't really pay attention to, and instead practically push your food round your plate.

"Don't you like it?" Seungcheol whispers,

"It's good, I'm just...not really used to eating this much." You look up at him, and he sends you a gentle smile.

"I'm afraid after this meal I have to go and sort out some issues. I'll have to leave you alone here." He rests his hand on your back, "Please don't be scared. I'm leaving you in safe hands."

You can't help the nerves that flood through your body at his words, unsure of whether you want to be left alone with this huge group of men. "When will you come back?"

"In a few days to check up on you." He bites his lip, clearly apologetic, "I have a lot of work to do, especially after your father's passing. The boys will let you call me if there are any problems, okay?"

"Okay." You say quietly.

When the meal is over Jongdae gathers the dishes and helps the others clean the table while Suho beckons you to move to the seat next to him. He greets you with a warm smile, something you realised he didn't wear often during the meal, "How are you feeling, love?"

"Full." You reply shyly, "Thank you for the food. It was delicious."

"You're very welcome. If you ever get hungry just tell one of us and we'll get you something, okay?" his smile expands when you nod, and you finally notice a lightness in his eyes, "We have a bedroom for you, there's not much in it, but we can decorate it later. Is that alright?"

You nod again.

"Can you use your words?" he asks gently, "You have a very pretty voice, sweetheart, very soft."

"Thank you." You reply, "For the compliments and the place to stay."

"It's no problem, love." He grins. Taking his hand in yours, he pulls you away from the table, leading you out of the dining room and up the marble staircase until you reach another room.

When he guides you inside, you look at the room with awe. There's a big glass window looking out onto the vast fields, and pale pink curtains. The whole room seems to be white with pink accents, and in the middle sits a double bed, crowded with many pillows that you're sure you'll drown in later.

"Do you like it?" he asks,

You nod frantically, "This is amazing."

"Good." He beams, guiding you both to sit on your bed, "I know this is a different environment for you, and you are probably unsure what's going on, but please don't be concerned."

Your fingers toy with the soft duvet as he speaks, avoiding eye contact as much as you can.

"For now, just know that you are safe with us and this situation gives you the opportunity to create connections for when you are properly given your inheritance."

"I don't understand what I'm inheriting. What did my father do?" You look up at him with big eyes, his gaze softening at your cuteness.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that, love, if we want to keep you safe it's best that you don't know."

"But-"

"Trust me, sweetheart." he sighs softly, glancing over at the window where the sky is creamy orange - the sunset harbouring a warm glow. "You should get some sleep."

"Okay." You say quietly, letting the man place a soft kiss on your head before leaving the room.

You find yourself sitting in the same position ten minutes later - completely transfixed by the beautiful sunset. You'd never seen one in real life before. To be frank, you'd never seen the sun in real life before either.

With tired eyes, you find yourself wandering over to the walk in closet - surprised that it contains a few clothes. There appears to be an oversized shirt, a pair of shorts and some underwear, which you slowly change into. You're unfamiliar with the soft fabric, rather used to the clothes you only changed once a week (cheap and unclean).

Closing the closet doors you make your way to the ensuite, brushing your teeth with the provided products.

When you get back to the bed, you crawl under the sheets and lay your head on the pillow. The warm sunset glow slowly fades and you find yourself in the dark.

It's cold, and you're scared of what's to come, who these men are and why you're here. How can you sleep like this?

With some hesitation, you pull yourself out of the sheets and open your bedroom door. You peak your head out and look both ways. No one.

Your eyes land on the faint light coming from further down the corridor and you follow it; the faint patter of your feet the only sound. You reach the door where the light is coming from and freeze.

You don't know these men, and you don't know who's room this even is. This could end up very badly. But after what Suho said, you shouldn't be afraid.

Your knuckles rap quietly against the door and it opens so quickly you jump about a foot backwards. Upon looking up you find yourself face-to-chest with a very tall man.

Kris.

"What's wrong, sweetheart? Shouldn't you be in bed?" his voice is a lot more gentle than it was at dinner,

"I-I can't sleep." You stutter, suddenly finding your feet very interesting to look at.

Before you know what's happening, you're lifted off the ground and into his arms, the door closes behind you as he carries you over to his bed. He places you down with the upmost care, tucking you in afterwards.

"Don't worry about anything, okay?" He finds his own place next to you, keeping the small lamp on and letting an arm rest over your waist.

You find yourself automatically snuggling into his embrace, earning a small smile from him.

"I'll keep you safe."

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harmonioussolve · 4 years

Text

Proper Nice: Chapter 14

He chuckled as he stumbled over his words. “I, um. I don’t know. Narrow it down for me, maybe?”

“Okay,” you straightened and crossed your legs. In your peripherals, you saw Arthur’s eyes watching you intently. You weren’t sure if he was aware of his now tighter grip on your hand.

The two of you continued to make comfortable small talk to pass the time in the car. You wished that this car ride could last forever - to skip the stupid gala. You wanted to tell the driver to turn around so that you could just take Arthur home.

“You can smoke in here, by the way - if you want to,” you offered.

“Oh… No thanks.” He nervously ran a hand through his hair.

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to seem rude.” He nodded in the direction of our driver, who was hidden by the partition.

“Oh, he doesn’t care, I’m sure.”

“I’m fine. Really.” Arthur said as he pressed his lips into a reassuring fine line. There was an awkward pause - an opportunity for you to speak up. But, when you started, Arthur spoke again.

“How far away is your parents place?” He asked as he looked away from you out his window.

“Not too much further,” you exhaled. You couldn’t do it. You were going to chicken out. Your heart was breaking before you could even start to let the words out.

Arthur craned his neck to get a better view out his window. Past him, the evening sky had darkened under a sheet of charcoal clouds. The sun shined through just slightly, casting a eerie glow on the rolling green hills. You guys were now officially outside of Gotham - not far, but far enough that the view outside of your window looked like another planet. No graffiti, no concrete, no fluffy clouds of pollution. Just lush green for as far as the eye could see with miles of black wooden fencing. Civilization was barely visible here, and where it was, was few and far between.

Arthur didn’t even notice you looking at him. While he was distracted by the view, you had the opportunity to regard him for just a second. His jawline, the way his brows were furrowed and emerald eyes were focused, his hair that fell just right and brushed along the side of his cream colored collar. It wasn’t fair.

He turned to you and his face fell when he noticed you staring. You retracted your hand quickly from his with a gasp, a nervous reaction. His eye darkened.

“What’s wrong?” He said softly.

He knew something was wrong. He could sense it. You warmed your hands back up by rubbing them together as your cheeks burned of embarrassment. Not only was something clearly wrong, but he had definitely caught you staring at him. “Nothing.”

He tugged at his own collar, readjusting it as if it were choking him.

“…Red is your color,” he stated suddenly. Quietly, he added, “and you are so… beautiful.”

Caught off guard, your only response was to blink back at him. His eyes were so tantalizing and green and solemn - you wondered if he realized how unique they were.

The driver pulled into the driveway - small beige pebbles crinkled under the tires and broke the silence. Through the gate, it stretched to the front of the house, where there was a roundabout. You peeked at Arthur out of the corner of your eye and you could see him become restive. The house that you grew up in was beautiful - tall and intimidating - decorated in towering brick with cascading ivy.

The driver stopped the car at the front door, where he shifted it into park and got out of his seat. He opened Arthur’s door, and he paused before stepping out. He took a deep breath and straightened his jacket after standing and extended his hand to yours. You wiped your sweaty palms on your dress before taking his hand. His tension was rubbing off on you.

He leaned in and whispered, “Is this really where you grew up?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed nonchalantly. Maybe if you acted like it was nothing, then it would be nothing.

The two of you stepped into the vast foyer, the clicks of your heels echoing. The short train of your dress swayed behind you as a gust of air from the front door tousled your hair. Arthur lifted a hand to smooth it down for you, his eyes sparkling. You wanted so badly to ask him to leave with you right then and there but, you knew that tonight had to happen - whether you wanted it to or not.

One of the employees offered to take Arthur’s jacket & he politely declined. You looked around and everything was just how you remembered it - beige, glossy marble. Pristine and cold.

You guys started down the hallway into the living area where Sabrina greeted you warmly. She jumped up and down at the sight of you and wrapped her arms around your neck.

The colors of each room were all the same - monochromatic, neutral and, in your opinion, boring. A large sectional cream couch divided the room where a handful of people stood and sipped from champagne flutes. Colorful art pieces on canvases were dotted around the room, each perched on their own easels.

“Finally,” she joked lightheartedly. “And Arthur, you look dashing. Don’t you clean up nicely!”

“Thank you,” he started to say as Sabrina grabbed him by his neck and lowered him to her. She placed a kiss on each of his cheeks as his eyes widened. You giggled at his surprised reaction. Even though she was an acquired taste, you loved how your best friend made an effort to make him feel included.

“Oh! This is my date - Charlie.” Sabrina moved aside so that her date could greet the both of you. You’d never met this guy before. You were sure he was a Tinder match. No judgement. He seemed nice and he dressed appropriately. He was tall and blonde and looked like he was probably his high school’s quarterback.

“A red suit, man… I like it! Very bold,” he stated as he patted Arthur on his shoulder.

“Why don’t you guys grab a glass of champagne?” Sabrina offered. “We have to make the most of this fucking snooze fest - no offense.”

“None taken,” you stated with raised brows. You and Arthur walked over to a credenza at the far end of the sitting room, weaving in and out of people. Each of you grabbed a glass as you raised yours to him.

“To tonight.”

“To tonight,” Arthur repeated, gently clinking his glass to yours. You glimpsed at him slyly above the rim of your champagne flute, your lips quirking upward. The bubbles sizzled down your throat as you stopped yourself from gulping the whole glass out of nervousness.

Arthur leaned in to whisper in your ear. His warm breath brushed your neck and sent a chill down your spine. The sharp scent of aftershave and cologne was tempting. “I, um, wanted to tell you again how amazing you look.”

“Why, thank you,” you said as a flush dusted your cheeks. “You are, certainly, prince charming.”

A rose tint dusted his cheeks as he peered down at you.

You lowered your voice. “I guess we should get the hard part over with.”

“What’s that?” he said as he looked up and took in all of the high ceilings.

“Meeting my parents.” You took his hand and lead him through a short cut. You guided him through the swinging doors of the kitchen where a full staff was scrambling to get the next course ready.

“Do you guys always… have a full kitchen staff?” He questioned as you urged him to keep up with you.

“Erm… no. Just the main three chefs. They live here.”

“They live here?” You ignored his astonishment and pulled him through the next set of swinging doors out of the kitchen. Down the hallway, you could hear your parents talking in the back room. The yellow light seeped into the hallway through the archway to another sitting area. You inhaled deeply & reassuringly rubbed Arthur’s arm.

This was the first hardest thing that you had to do tonight. If I could just get through this, then i’ll be halfway there.

“Darling - finally! I was wondering where you were.” Your mother welcomed you with open arms. She delicately patted your back and kept you a safe distance away from the intricate up do that her hair was styled into. Her Chanel No. 5 perfume singed your nostrils. Your father was at the other end of the room, entertaining a group of guests that you didn’t recognize. His booming, deep laughter drowned out the sound of the music.

“I was just showing my lovely date around,” you said as you stepped aside to introduce Arthur, who was standing timidly behind you.

“You must be Arthur,” your mother said as she grabbed him gingerly by the shoulders and proceeded to kiss both of his cheeks. “I’m so glad you guys came.”

Arthur only nodded in response. Your mother adjusted her beige and brown fur shawl around her shoulders. Her dress was a fluffy, metallic navy blue with a strapless sweetheart neckline. It looked like something that someone would wear to a wedding if they were the mother of the bride.

Or, if you were someone’s rich mom.

She motioned her hand towards a tray of champagne flutes that sat on top of the counter. “Please, help yourselves.”

Arthur chose to hang on to his current glass, which was still half full. You set your now empty flute down on the counter to grab a new one. This was going to be a long night.

“So, Arthur. What do you do for a living?”

Getting right to it, are we?

Arthur shifted nervously. “Um, well… I’m pursuing a career in stand-up comedy. But for now, I work as a party clown.”

Her eyebrows shot up while she was taking a sip from her flute. “Mmmm… a party clown?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Ahh,” she considers, setting her glass down. “Interesting.”

You felt yourself become self conscious of the tone that she had with him. You could sense her being just the tiniest bit condescending and this conversation couldn’t end sooner.

“Isn’t that lovely?” You chimed in and tilted your head at her. “That’s how we met, actually. He goes around to all of the hospitals and makes the children laugh. He loves to spread joy in that way. You should try it sometime.”

Arthur mouth fell slightly agape as he stood quietly beside you. You suddenly found yourself thinking of how different your relationship with your mother was compared to his. He was her caregiver, for God’s sake. He probably wouldn’t dare to speak to her like that, as much as he might want to.

She lifted her chin with an amused smile, ignoring your rebuttal. “How old are you, Arthur?”

Your brows knitted together in shock. What an odd and unnecessary question to ask him at their first meeting. You couldn’t say that you were completely surprised, though. It was your mother, after all - ruthlessly and unabashedly nosy.

“…I’m 32.”

She hummed once again. “Quite the age difference. Have you thought of another career?”

You and Arthur exchanged looks. You wished you could pull one of those flimsy black holes from the old cartoons out of your evening clutch, drop it onto the floor, and jump into it - disappearing and taking Arthur with you.

“No ma’am. I… have always wanted to be a comedian. My mother… she says I was put on this earth to spread laughter -”

Your mother’s eyebrows raised once again. “Oh! That’s a wonderful dream to have, Arthur. But, have you thought of a more… sustainable career?”

“What do you mean, ma’am?”

Is she not going to correct him? She’s just going to let him call her, “ma’am?”

“Well,” she started. “Here are my thoughts-“

Maybe we should start running now.

She delicately swept a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she cleared her throat. “- I want my sweet girl to be taken care of. I need her to be with someone that has a solid career with substantial job security. I’m not sure if being a… performer would provide that - unless, you come from money.” She chortled into her champagne before she devoured the rest in a theatrical gulp.

“Mother, please-“

“I’m just being realistic, darling. Best to get this over with in the beginning, right?”

You scowled at her. She wondered why half of your relationships never lasted and the other half never even met her. She wasn’t a realist - she was relentless. Your heart shattered thinking of how Arthur might be feeling in this moment. You hoped that he was actually taking her words or attitude into consideration. Your mother’s approval was certainly not needed when it came to being with him.

You were just about to pull him away when -

“How else would you be able to afford to live in New York?”

Your heart stopped.

“New York?” Arthur asked faintly. He glanced back and forth between your mother and you. Your throat began to swell. “… Are you leaving?”

You were frozen under his beseeching gaze. The backs of your eyes started to burn with tears that threatened to make themselves known.

“Well, if you two are as serious as you seem to be about each other, wouldn’t you go together?” your mother challenged with knitted brows.

Your jaw clenched as you ground your teeth together. No, no, no. Not like this. I should’ve told him in the car when I had the chance.

“… What? When?” Arthur looked at you desperately. He looked panicked - as if he was waiting for you to tell him that it wasn’t true. But, it was.

“In a month!” your mother exclaimed a little too excitedly. “I’m sorry, I assumed you knew!” She threw her hands up and shrugged her shoulders with a tsk. “I mean, you brought him as your date, darling. You never bring a date.”

Arthur rubbed the back of his neck before looking down at the floor. “I had no idea.”

“I was going to tell you -“

“Oh, my darling has been wanting to live in New York all of her life. We are so proud of her.”

“I’m sure -” Arthur snorted as he clasped a hand over his mouth.

“Arthur…” you whispered, rubbing his back to try to console him.

Suddenly, he doubled over in cackling laughter. He grabbed the edge of the counter to steady himself as your mother jolted in surprise, laying a delicate hand on her chest and gasping. A few of the other guests at the other end of the room turned there heads in your direction.

“I-I’m… sorry. I have… a condition,” he choked out in between gulps of air. His laughter became louder as he wrapped one of his arms around himself.

“Arthur,” you cooed. “Let me explain -“

“I… have to… get some fresh air.”

You tried to extend a pleading hand to his, but his fingers slipped though yours.

When you turned to follow him instead, your mother grabbed your arm, pulling you back to her.

“Sweetie, do you really want to go after him? He can’t take care of you the way that you should be,” she whispered into your ear so that the other guests couldn’t hear. “There’s something wrong with him. You’re wasting your time.”

“How dare you?” You spat as you sternly removed your arm from her grasp. “There is nothing wrong with him and I am not wasting my time - why would you say that?”

You paused as a few of the guests shot concerning glances toward you two.

You could feel your eyes begin to swell and your vision became blurry. “Don’t you want me to be happy?”

“Of course, darling but -“

“Good,” you interjected, holding up a hand. “Say no more. Please.”

She leaned back and squinted at you. “You love him, don’t you?”

Without answering, you turned and left the room. Down the back hallway, a pair of french doors led out to a second story concrete deck. You grabbed a bunch of the front of your dress and held it up off the floor. Between the window panes, you could see Arthur with his back to you, smoking a cigarette. He braced himself by placing his hands on the bannister.

You quietly opened the doors, the evening winter air immediately chilled you. You closed the doors behind you, crossed your arms, and slowly made you way to him.

“Arthur…” your voice, barely above a whisper, cracked. “Please, hear me out.”

read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21342046/chapters/56365450

#arthur fleck #arthur x reader #arthur fleck x reader #joker fic

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