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2-guns-b1tch · 3 months

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Midnight Visitor

Rating: Explicit +18

Pairing: BTAA! Scarecrow x F!Reader

I really wanted to write something about the Scarecrow from the Audio Adventures. I love his voice and his mannerisms so much. Sorry if this a little OOC, i think i wasn't able to portray him exactly right, but I hope you like this and let me now if I forgot to mention a trigger warning.

Ao3

+18 Minors DNI!!! Fear Play, Mildly Dubious Consent, Breathplay if you squint, Vaginal Sex.

The waiting room is practically empty when you come in. The only person in there is Miss Gold and she seems to be getting ready to leave for her lunch break.

"Hello, Miss Gold," your voice breaks the silence, making her jump on her chair.

Miss Gold snaps her head in your direction, laughing softly with a hand on her chest when she realizes is actually you.

"Oh, hello, Mrs. Crane. I was sou caught that you startled me."

Miss Gold has been Jonathan's secretary for almost two years. She was a little shorter than you, wearing high heels to make up for the missing inches. Her round, rosy cheeks reminded you of a peach, matching her plumper silhouette. Her clothes were often pastel and soft, which made her stand out in the dull environment of the clinic.

Although Miss Gold was sweet and helpful, she always had this nervous expression on her face, looking like she was on the verge of an anxiety attack constantly. You needed to have a conversation with Jonathan to find out what kind of pressure he was putting on the poor secretary.

"I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention to sneak in like this," you say, approaching her table. "I came to bring Jonathan's lunch. Is he here?"

Miss Gold nods, "Yes, he is, dear. Would you like me to let him know you're here?"

"You don't have to, thank you. Go enjoy your lunch, Miss Gold. I will take care of the doctor now.”

You say goodbye before she leaves and you knock on Jonathan's door, his voice on the other end signaling you to come in.

"What's so important, Miss-" Jonathan lifts his head towards you, the annoyed expression on his face being washed away when he lays his eyes on you, a small smile forming on the corners of his lips.

You can't help but shiver as you walk over to his desk. The old, dark furniture gave the room a gloomy air, the dim lights creating strange shadows. But what made you feel more uneasy were the old Argus Studios posters hanging on the walls. Basil Karlo's wicked gaze followed you wherever you went.

You try to shake off that feeling when Jonathan gets up and meets you halfway.

"What do I owe the pleasure of your honorable presence?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

You pull him by his orange tie – the same one you had gifted him last Christmas – until he was at your level and you could kiss him on the cheek.

"You forgot that at home, so I thought I'd stop by to deliver it to you," you lift the lunchbox, handing it to him.

He slaps a hand on his forehead, giving a breathy chuckle as he shakes his head. "What would I do without my dear wife?"

"You would probably end up forgetting your head somewhere," you pat him at the shoulder before sitting down on the therapy couch.

Jonathan just nods, sitting next to him. He opens the package, admiring for a few seconds what you had packed before he started eating.

You watch him finish the salad in just a few bites and then stuff his mouth full of spaghetti. He licks his lips, letting out a few moans of delight between bites.

"Good to know you still like my food," you comment out Loud.

"How could I not? That was one of the main reasons I married you."

You try to look offended by giving him a weak slap on the arm, but you can't hide your smile when he starts laughing.

"You're terrible!"

"You can't go back now. Until death do us part, remember?" he shrugs as if there's nothing you can do. “Besides, we both know you’re crazy about me."

You roll your eyes at him, but your fingers troke your wedding ring, a warm sensation spreading across your chest.

"You look hungry. What would you have eaten if I hadn’t brought your lunch?"

He shrugs as he finishes chewing. "I probably would have asked Miss Gold to buy me something. Don't worry."

But it was impossible not to worry. In these last months, Jonathan left early in the morning and returned only late at night. He said he was too busy at the office and that you shouldn't wait for him awake. Even then you always woke up when he arrived home and helped him take off his clothes, only being able to talk for a few minutes until he fell asleep exhausted.

Of course you were grateful for the comfortable life his jobs provided, and you were very proud of his career as a doctor and professor, but you didn't want him to work until he killed himself.

You run your fingers through his hair, brushing a few strands off his forehead. He definitely needed a cut. On top of that, he looked even thinner and the dark circles under his eyes were getting bigger. But even after all these years together, he was still the man of your dreams. A little mean and weird, but you didn't want it any other way.

Jonathan stares at you, his gaze as warm and loving as ever. But at the same time it seemed so far away, as if he wasn't really there.

"Today they're going to reprise some classic horror movies. What do you think? You, me, a bucket of popcorn?" you propose.

"I'm sorry, dear. Not today. I have some tests that I need to go through and-" Jonathan begins to explain himself, but you interrupt him.

"It's okay, you have work to do. I get it.”

You bite your tongue, hating how angry you sound. You didn't want to take your frustrations out on him, but you missed Jonathan so much. You missed dancing with him as he hummed some silly music he made up. To watch the classic horror movies he loved so much. To simply be able to talk to him without Jonathan falling asleep in the middle of a sentence. And you missed the sex, too.

Jonathan was still affectionate, of course, but the caresses and touches boiled down to a quick kiss before he left or a hug when he arrived. Nothing more than that. Now, Jonathan left a void around the house, like a ghost walking in the halls.

He places the lunch box on the coffe table, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "You're upset, I understand.”

You move your gaze to your lap. "I'm not upset. I'm just... tired. I’ve barely seen you these last few days."

He puts his hand over yours, his skin feeling cold against your own.

"I know these past months have been difficult. But I'll make it up to you," he strokes your cheek, tilting your chin to look into your eyes. "I promise."

You really want to believe him, but a part of you suspects that these are empty promises. This behavior will keep repeating itself and you will keep forgiving him, until eventually you drift further apart.

A paranoid little voice in the back of your mind suggests a hypothesis for Jonathan's absence and you hate yourself for thinking about something like that. What if he was cheating on you? What if all this distance over the past few months was actually someone between you.

Jonathan wasn't that kind of man, but the voice kept repeating. What if? What if he had grown tired of you? What if that person was more beautiful? Or more interesting? What if they made him happier than you?

The idea makes your stomach turn and you swallow dry. You pull your hand from his grip, getting up from the couch.

"I should go," you say as you put the lunchboxes back in the bag. "After all, you have a lot of work to do."

You feel numb as Jonathan follow you to the door, barely feeling the goodbye kiss he places on your forehead.

You wish you had walked out of the office hoping that things would get better or at least satisfied that this is just a temporary crisis that all couples have to face at some point.

Instead, doubt and a feeling of distress accompany you all the way home.

——

You stir awake, being pulled slowly from your dreams. Everything seems hazy and fuzzy as you run you fingers over Jonathan’s bedside, but you only find his side cold and empty. You sigh in frustration, letting your head sink against the pillow again. You should be used to it by now.

The alarm on your bedside table signals that it's past midnight, the numbers on the digital clock flashing through the darkness of the room. You snuggle under the covers again, almost forgetting what woke you up in the first place. Sleep is so tempting and you start to drift off.

But an insistent sound keeps you awake. You stare at the ceiling, your eyes getting used to the darkness as you begin to make out what exactly the noise was.

Steps. Someone was walking around the apartment.

You pull the sheets, the sole of your foot meeting the cold floor. You try not to assume the worst as you get out of bed. Maybe it was just Jonathan coming home from work.

You step into the hallway, turning on the switch, but the light bulb flickers a few time before the shadows envelop you once more. You sigh, cursing yourself silently. The hallway light wasn’t working properly and you were supposed to change it weeks ago.

You walk slowly with your arms extended in front of your body so you don’t bump into anything until you can reach the bathroom door. You turn the lights on and a momentary feeling of safety rushes over you. Everything looks okay in the bathroom, so you decide to let the lights on and the door open to let a little bit o the light illuminate the hallway.

After that you go to check the living room and the kitchen. Your thin nightgown isn't enough to keep you warm on that cold night and you hug yourself, a shiver running through your skin.

You finally go to the front door to test the handle. To your relief, is locked and the bolt was in place. Even though you lived in a safe neighborhood you still had your fears, after all, Gotham is Gotham. You can never be too sure.

Maybe it was just a dream? You wonder for a second until you notice the light in Jonathan's office leaking through the small crack in the door. As you get closer, the sound of mumbling and papers being flipped through becomes more noticeable. Jonathan was really incorrigible. After hours at his office, he brought even more work home.

"Jon, you should go to bed," you stop in front of the door, rubbing your eyes until they get used to the brightness of the room.

You had the clear image of Jonathan in your head. He'd be sitting behind his desk with a tired expression on his face, pen hanging loose in his hand while he is finishing giving grades fos his students’ tests. You would whisper in a sweet tone and stroke his hair until he agreed to follow you back to bed.

Instead, your heart sinks as your eyes fall on the stranger leaning over Jonathan's desk, papers scattered everywhere. He was tall and thin, wearing a brown suit. His face was covered by a patched mask, a rope around his neck.

You've heard and read countless stories about him, but you never expected that one day you'd come face to face with the Scarecrow.

Sleep is a distant thing now. The adrenaline coursing through your veins makes your whole body tense, your feet stuck on the ground. Your instincts scream at you to run, fight, do anything, but the idea of moving seems impossible. All you can do is watch transfixed as Scarecrow stares at you from across the room, a heavy, suffocating silence forming between the two of you.

For some reason he seems as surprised as you do, as if he didn't expect someone to show up.

He walks around the table with slow steps, his hands raised in the air. "Hush. I didn't come here to hurt you," he sounds calm and... strangely familiar. But the grim smile sewn into his mask doesn't help to reassure you.

This is like a nightmare. The kind where you stay in the same place while running, unable to distance yourself from the monster that chases you, no matter how hard you try. But now, the monster wouldn't disappear when you opened your eyes. No matter how much you blink, he's still there.

He's only a few inches away, his hand almost touching your arm, when your feet finally work again and you run out of the room, heading towards the kitchen.

You can hear the Scarecrow right behind you through the rapid beating of your heart, his footsteps reverberating against the hardwood floor, but you don't dare look back.

Your first extinct is to open one of the drawers to grab the biggest knife you can find. You turn just in time to see the Scarecrow standing in the kitchen doorway, your trembling hands gripping the handle of the knife as you point the blade at him. The shadows cast strange shapes on his face, making the smile on his mask seem even bigger. For a moment he looks like one of the monsters from Jonathan's movies.

"Don't come closer!" you scream.

He ignores your order, taking one step toward you and then another. Approaching in the same careful manner that a predator approaches its prey.

You swallow, your wobbly legs seeming to be unable to bear your own weight. "If you come any closer I-I... I'm going to hurt you."

He pauses for a moment, tilting his head as he studies you. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves ma’am. You don't want to make any rash decisions."

"Stay away from me! My husband is going to arrive any moment and he's going to-"

The Scarecrow throws his head back in a cruel laugh that sends a shiver down your spine, as if you've said something stupid.

"Look at you, trying to rationalize with fear. So brave," he shakes his head, approaching again.

With every step he takes, you take another step back in a futile attempt to increase the distance between you. You keep retreating until you're backed against the kitchen counter and that's when it lunges at you. He slaps your hand, throwing your knife across the room.

You try to scream, but he presses his hand over your mouth to muffle your cries for help. You flinch at the sensation of the cold leather of his gloves on your skin, his fingers sinking into the flesh of your arm.

You're like a deer at headlights, too scared to fight for your survival. He was so close now, you could see his eyes through the holes in the mask, deep brown circles staring back at you. His pupils were dilated, he was enjoying it.

To your horror, he presses his face against your neck. He inhales deeply against your skin, letting out a satisfied hum. The hair on the back of your neck stands up and you shiver against his grip.

"You’re afraid, aren’t you? You’re afraid, and it’s delicious,” he whispers close to your ear, his voice becoming dark and low as he takes a sharp inhale. "Mmm. You fear is so sweet, I can almost taste it on my tongue. Oh, darling. You're terrified," he laughs hoarsely.

You close your eyes so tightly that you can see little white spots. The whole world seems to spin and you feel dizzy. Would he drug you with the fear gas that all the news have been talking about? Or maybe force you to swallow some of the drugs he makes that look like Halloween candy? You can only think of Jonathan coming home to find your lifeless body lying on the kitchen floor.

The sob you let out goes almost unnoticed and you think he'll just ignore you, but the Scarecrow leans back, your eyes meeting as tears roll down your face.

"Shhh. No crying. Those aren't the kind of tears I want from you," he says in a soft, almost soothing tone as he strokes your hair. "I'll let you talk now, but don't scream. Got it?"

You nod as best you can and he finally pulls his hand off of you. Your tongue feels heavy inside your mouth when you try to speak.

"Wha... What are you going to do with me?" you ask.

"I'm still deciding," he shrugs.

"I don't have anything you want."

"Maybe I don't want something you have. Maybe I want you to do something for me. Have you thought about that?"

His words take a second to fully hit you. You wish you had misunderstood, but it was impossible not to notice the way he looked at you, how his eyes traveled up and down your body. Your breath gets caught in your throat and you shake your head.

"Please don't. I... I have a husband and he-"

Scarecrow interrupts you with a loud sigh. "You keep talking about your husband, but where is he?"

You open your mouth to answer him, but close it right away, pressing your lips into a thin line. You didn't know where Jonathan really was. Maybe he wasn't even in the office. What if he had lied to you?

He continues in a low tone, as if he's telling you a secret. "What kind of husband leaves his wife like that? So lonely. So vulnerable," one of his hands goes down slowly to caress the bare flesh of your thigh while the other grips your waist. You are startled by the feeling of his hands on you, how his touch is surprisingly slow and sensual. You find yourself thinking about Jonathan for a second before remembering that he's not the one touching you.

"Were you waiting for him? That's why you're wearing this nightgown? How lovely," his laugh makes your cheeks heat up. "Lucky me."

He drags his hand up your stomach, running along your sides, teases one of your breasts until your nipple is a stiffen bud underneath your nightgown. You try to look distant on the outside, but it’s impossible to deny the wetness forming between your legs. You bite the inside of your cheek hard enough to hold in any noises.

You don't want that. You don't want his hands on you. You don't want his body against yours. But you can't remember the last time you felt wanted. It's been so long since you and Jonathan had sex. You're so tired of feeling alone.

Even with these ideas running through your head, you place a hand against his chest, opening up a bit of space between the two of you.

"No. That's not right," you say, "I don't... I don't want this."

"Oh, don't be like that," he whispers, rubbing his face against you neck. "That could be our little secret. I'm not going to tell anyone. I promise."

The air is drawn out of your lungs, as if you've been punched in the stomach. You turn your head slowly, the words stuck in your throat.

"Jonathan?" you mutter.

His body tenses suddenly, and he tilts his head back, staring at you wide-eyed, like a child who just got caught with his hand inside the cookie jar. How could you not have noticed before? Maybe it was fear confusing your senses, but all the signs were there. The same tall, slender silhouette, the long limbs, the deep brown eyes. The same voice. The same laugh.

He breaks the silence with a low laugh, shaking his head.

"I knew I couldn't fool your forever. You always have been so smart."

He lifts the mask slowly, revealing every bit of his face. The face you knew so well. Jonathan's face.

A million questions cross your mind, but before you can say anything Jonathan presses you against the counter again, capturing your lips.

You gasp and throw a fist into his chest, pressing your teeth against his bottom lip, biting hard enough to hurt, but this jusy makes Jonathan growls like a mad dog. His hands run all over your body, not knowing where to stop. He tugs at your nightgown, the cold air sending shivers through your skin as he grabs and squeezes every bit of flesh he can reach.

The kiss is demanding and sloppy, his hot tongue trailing across your lips and invading your mouth. All you can do is hold on to Jonathan as if your life depended on it, making him grunt as your nails sink into his covered back.

There's something familiar about how your bodies move in sync. A sensual dance that the two of you had done thousands of times before. But now there's a hunger behind Jonathan's movements, something possessive, as if he won’t let you escape. Maybe you were as hungry as he was.

The next moment your world changes perspective as Jonathan turns you around, lowering you down onto the kitchen counter until your cheek is pressed against the cold surface. You moan softly as he lifts the thin material of your nightgown, his mouth leaving warm kiss on the skin of your back.

He pulls your panties down, kicking your legs apart. You were practically naked, while Jonathan was fully clothed, having only taken off his mask and gloves. You feel so exposed, nothing to hide yourself while Jonathan stares at you laid bare before him.

You can hear him shuffling behind you, undoing his own belt and pants in a hurry. You turn your head just in time to see him approaching, his flushed cock pressing against your pussy, making you both grunt together. You don't even care if it hurts, all you want is Jonathan inside you. Filling you completely. Fuck, you want him so bad.

He gathers some of your wetness, his dick sliding in between your folds in slow movements. You moan softly when the tip catches on your clit, the sweet sensation making you buckle your hips towards him.

"Johnny..." you whine, "Please."

Jonathan laughs in a mocking tone, but you know he's not in the mood for teasing either.

You’re wet enough so there is no resistance as he presses intou you, your walls stretching to accommodate his cock. Jonathan moves slowly, leaving you’re both panting when he’s fully inside you. The pain and the pleasure mix deliciously, you missed him so much.

The first thrust takes the air out of your lungs. The second makes your legs tremble. The third makes your back arch and a sweet sound leave your lips. He keeps rutting against you, slow and deep. The wet sound of your bodies combined and your moans reverberate through the walls.

"You're the perfect victim, you know?" he says in between grunts, "You're so beautiful when you're scared. Oh, and when you started running – Fuck... I almost lost my mind. I wanted to take you right there on the floor."

You clench around him, driving him even deeper into you. Jonathan realizes the effect his words have on you, giving you a breathless chuckle.

"Did you like that? Do you like the idea of a maniac fucking you?"

The idea shouldn't be so tempting, but you can't stop thinking about Jonathan hiding in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to reveal himself and pull you into the darkness with him, where he could do whatever he wanted to you.

You nod weakly and he grips you tighter, his nails leaving half-moon marks on the soft skin of your waist. His pace is brutal now, your body moving everytime his hips hits your backside.

"Next time... Hah... I'll give you some of the toxin, just enough to keep you on the edge and a little scared," he takes a sharp breath, throwing his head back, "And then... I'm going to put on my mask and I'm going to fuck you until you beg me to stop."

You open your mouth, but you can’t form words to save your life, so you reach out behind you

to something to hold until your fingers find the rope around Jonathan’s neck and you pull him towards you. He lets out a surprised sound, turning into a sinful moan. His chest is against your back, his chin resting on your shoulder.

It’s good. It’s so fucking good. You can’t believe you almost forgot how good it was to have him inside you. You make a silent promise to never let him leave again.

One of his hands moves around your body, his fingers meeting your throbbing clit. He makes quick circles around it, pinching and pressing on it hard. For a moment it all seems too much and not enough at the same time. His cock moving inside you, the pressure on your clit. It was overwhelming in the best kind of way.

With your cheek pressed against the counter and tears streaming down your face, you can feel your orgasm approaching. Behind you, Jonathan's movements get more and more out of rhythm and you know he's not that far away either.

He keeps one hand in between your legs while the other lays flat on your mid section, pulling you close to him, your bodies still glued together.

"Tell me -Ah... Tell me who I am,” he mumbles, cheek nuzzled in your temple. “Tell me what I am,” almost sound like he is begging and you could never say no to him.

"Scarecrow!" the word leaves your lips before you know it. "You're the Scarecrow."

"Yes! That’s right! That’s right, good girl. My good girl,” his praise goes straight to your pussy and you squeeze him impossibly tight.

You throw your head back, stretching your neck until you can kiss him. It’s all teeth and tongue while he keeps moving inside you with shallow thrusts.

Your orgasm hits you so hard that almost hurts. The knot in your lower belly finally snaps and the wave of carnal bliss washes over your. Jonathan comes right after you. He curses between clenched teeth, his hips curling, his breath hot on your skin as he fills your cunt with hot wads of cum.

You both breathe heavily in the middle of the kitchen, your sweaty bodies intertwined perfectly. Thank God he is holding you, because you barely can feel your legs and if it weren’t for him you know you would be on the floor by this point.

Jonathan snuggles up against your neck, murmuring something sweet, but your mind is too hazy now to hear him. You bring a hand up to his head, stroking his hair.

As you come down from you high, reality finally hits you. One of Gotham's most wanted criminals just came inside you and now he's cuddling you. Oh, and coincidentally, he's your husband... Fuck.

#jonathan crane #the scarecrow #jonathan crane x reader #scarecrow x reader #scarecrow smut #btaa scarecrow #batman rouges #rogue gallery #jonathan crane x you #scarecrow x you

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dreamingofaizawa · 3 years

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Good Kitty

Shouta Aizawa x Chubby! Kitty Hybrid! Fem! Reader

***18+ Fic***

If you are under the age of 18, leave. Thank you.

Warnings: Kitty hybrid reader, smut, fingering, unprotected sex, praise kink (?), reader has insecurities, Shouta is soft and lowkey feral?, chubby kink (sorta), reader has a heat for the first time, barely implied virginity loss, a touch of dacryphilia

Word Count: 2.4 k

Author’s Note: This is inspired by @cupcake-rogue ’s fic Not Allowed on the Bed. I got permission to use it as inspo so here we are! Tbh the orignal had me feeling all sorts of feelings because, as a very subby sub that loves to please, I definitely have a praise kink and I WILL CRY if I’m called a bad girl. HOWEVER, Katsuki being the rough-around-the-edges guy he is wanting reader regardless of size made me very happy and warm and fuzzy.

The premise with this is pretty much the same, except I made reader a kitty hybrid...and of course I wrote for Shouta, love of my life he is. I’m such a fucking simp. I’m not the biggest fan of the ending, but this has been sitting in my WIPs for too damn long and it’s decent enough for me to feel ok posting it.

Also, for reference, reader has black fur regardless of hair color. Reader could be blonde, but still have black ears and tail. That’s just the way I’ve chosen to write this for some reason, don’t ask me why, I’m weird like that.

I think this is the first time I’ve written for a hybrid, so cut me a little slack.

Anywho, enjoy~

You can’t remember life outside the shelter. You’d grown up here, the caretakers said they’d found you on the street as a nearly newborn kitten and immediately scooped you up and brought you back here. That was a long time ago. Now you sit, waiting, your hopes for getting adopted diminishing with every passing day.

It’s unfortunate, but you still haven’t been adopted. It’s not that you’re bad, you always behave, you make sure you do. But you’ve overheard time and time again the people that gazed down at you and whispered about how you were too chunky, too big and too squishy for a kitty hybrid. And some even called you bad luck. The pitch black fur on your ears and tail warded off many.

Today was just the same as any other day. Wake up, get fed, wait in your room while potential owners pick and choose not you. Adults and children alike would take chunks out of their time to play with you, but they all left the shelter with another smaller cat. It was nearing bed time now, dinner just finished and the caretakers were about to start closing when the little bell on the front door jingled. Someone had just come in. You ignored it all the same.

Two pairs of footsteps began making their way past rooms, whoever it was that had entered smelled good, like coffee and tree bark. A smooth hum accompanied the caretaker’s voice, it made your ears twitch and tail sway gently. Still, you decided to just curl up in bed and try to sleep. The chance of him adopting you was slim, if it existed at all.

As you lay there your ears pick up their footsteps, the lazy set that dragged familiar, the nearly silent set less so. You listened as they came closer, never stopping as the man strode past each room and peered in the windows. You waited for them to pass right by your room, as they had been, but suddenly the footsteps halted. The caretaker spoke first.

“Y/n? You awake?” You let your eyes flutter open and sat up, tucking your legs under you and sitting up straight. They asked the man if he wanted to go in and see you, and he gave a simple nod. When he entered you finally looked up at him. The first thing you noticed were his eyes, tired and bloodshot with dark circles beneath them, a deep scar curved under his right eye. His long black hair fell around his shoulders, swaying lightly with every measured step he took toward you.

He stopped right in front of you, a large hand stretching out and you give it a small sniff before nudging your head into it, letting him pet your hair and scratch at the base of your ears. It felt nice to be getting attention like this. A small purr sounded in your chest, your tail gently swishing behind you.

“How long have you been here?” His voice is deep and calm, tired even, but it sounds so welcoming. It’s so soothing to your sensitive ears, like a warm blanket. You give a small hum before answering.

“A long time. I don’t remember anything outside this place.” At that he raised an eyebrow, turning to the caretaker with a questioning look.

“Most people look for...specific traits in the cat hybrids. Y/n here is well behaved, a perfect house kitty really,” you purred a bit at the praise, “But she’s a little larger than most. And her black fur wards off the more superstitious.” The man gives a curious hum before looking back down at you.

“Do you want to come home with me, kitty?” The question caught you a little off guard. Nobody really asked the hybrids if they wanted to go with them. You looked over to the caretaker, who nodded their head with a gentle smile, encouraging you to answer. All you could do was give a small nod, and soon you were in the car, on the way to your new home.

He’d told you to call him Shouta. He was nice, always quiet and never got mad. He never smiled, but you supposed that’s just the way he is. He gave you your own room, and always let you rub up on him when you wanted to, taking the opportunity to pet you. Occasionally you got the odd kiss on the forehead when you nuzzled into his neck. Those always made you purr. He never came seeking you out, which was good since there were times you really didn’t want to be touched.

The longer you’re with him the closer you get, and you find yourself doing things you’d never thought to do before. Sometimes you found the floor more comfortable than the couch, and would kneel down and rub up on his leg, your tail wrapping around his ankle. There were times you’d see his fingers idly drumming on his lap, and you’d lay down and nibble on one with your little fang-like canines. He didn’t seem to mind that little oral fixation, and he always let you do whatever you wanted. All in all, life with Shouta is great.

But today you feel weird. You’d been cooped up in your room for the first hour or so of the weekend morning, not quite wanting to go out and make it known something was off. But it’s gotten abnormally hot, your face and chest especially warm, and between your legs as well. Your panties are beginning to feel damp, your thighs starting to feel humid and sticky. It’s a little uncomfortable. And your tummy is starting to boil, neediness beginning to cloud your mind. This never happened at the shelter.

Reluctantly, you step out of bed onto slightly wobbly legs and peek your head out of your door to see him sitting on the couch, a book in hand and a mug of coffee on the table. His hair is loose, his strong lean body relaxed as he read. The sight of him and his scent made the feeling worse, made your panties and thighs wetter, your chest beginning to heave with your panted breaths.

“Sh-shouta…” Your voice came out shakier and quieter than you wanted it to, but he’d heard you regardless. He closed the book and peered over at your shaking form in the doorway.

“What is it kitty?” You nearly mewled at his voice, his heavenly smooth baritone sending a shiver down your spine through to the tip of your tail.

“Something’s wrong...I feel weird…” As you tell him about everything that’s happening to your body, he’s dragging his eyes over you, taking in every detail. Soon he’s on the phone with the doctor, you can’t quite comprehend his words, only catching snippets. ‘Help’ and ‘how long’, followed by agreeing hums. It was all jumbled after that, your mind refusing to focus as you leaned heavily on the doorframe, your quivering legs barely able to hold your body.

Shouta’s large hand came up and cupped your cheek, letting you nuzzle into his palm. When had he hung up the phone? He ordered you to sit on the bed, and you obliged, watching as he swept up his hair into a loose bun and strode over, tilting your chin to look up at him through half-lidded eyes. He’s so close, his scent overwhelming and making your brain fuzzy.

“You’re in heat, kitty.” Heat...where had you heard that before? Back at the shelter, maybe? It was all a distant, unfocused memory right now. Shouta leaned down and kissed you sweetly, lips melding with yours as you purred and mewled, your tail thrashing behind you. His hands tugged at your clothes until you were bare before him, every inch of you on display.

“You’re such a pretty kitty, you know that? So beautiful. Lay down for me.” The praise made you purr, made a chill crawl up your spine and your tail flick wildly. You obeyed the command, laying flat in the middle of the bed and he slotted himself between your legs, plunging two fingers into your tight hole. He let out a groan, pumping and scicssoring his fingers to stretch you out. You were already a sloppy mess, loud squelches ringing through the room in between your loud, whiny mewls and panting.

It felt so good, the heat in your belly burning and tightening until Shouta’s fingers curled up into a spot that made stars dance in your vision. The pressure in your belly snapped hard, your legs trembling as he kept fingering you through it. His fingers slowed when you whined about it being too much, too sensitive. But you still felt hot all over, now it was worse, you wanted something so bad but you didn’t know what.

He got up and undressed himself and you licked your lips at his naked body, scarred skin pulled taut over thick muscle. What stood between his legs had heat spreading like fire through your body. You’d never seen a naked man before. He was quick to return to you, slotting his hips between your thighs and guiding the thick head of his cock along your soaked folds.

“Relax kitty. I’m gonna make you feel good.” You gave a small nod and then he was pushing his thick cock inside you, groaning at the way your pussy clamped down on him. Your tongue lolled out of your mouth as he slowly pushed and pumped his hips, cock dragging along your wet warm walls perfectly. Mewls slipped past your lips, high pitched whines and pants like music in Shouta’s ears.

His hands wandered over your body, squishing and pulling at every piece of you he could get his calloused fingers on. It made you squirm beneath him, your own hands trying to push his away, but he wasn’t having any of it. He grabbed both your wrists and pinned them above your head in one strong hand, then went right back to groping your body with his free one.

“I can’t have you stopping me from touching you, kitty.” That’s all he said before focusing back on your body. He tugged at your belly, your sides, every place that was fatty and squishy. He’d never admit out loud how much he loved how soft you are. You’re perfect, plump and meaty, just more for him to touch, to look at, more to squeeze and pinch and pull.

He groaned out as you whined beneath him, tears beginning to clump in your lashes because he just kept squeezing, and he isn’t fucking you hard enough. Your orgasm built slowly with his languid pace, not nearly enough to get you to that peak and you were frustrated because you wanted relief but it wouldn’t come. Shouta picks up on your hips jerking and rolling, trying to get him to fucking move faster. He pulled his hips back and slammed back in, setting a brutal pace and making you whine high and long.

Tears begin to fall from the sheer ecstasy of it, and he’s realizing how much he loves to see you cry from the pleasure he can give you. With a groan, he’s releasing your hands and wrapping his arms around your waist, burying his face into your breasts and biting and sucking at your skin as he pounds you into the mattress. He isn’t normally an impulsive man, wouldn’t let himself let go like this. But for you. For you he’d give in to his lust and ravage you like you need him to.

Your orgasm slams over your body like a tsunami, your muscles locking up and a loud yip ringing from your throat, pleasure making your whole body shake. Shouta let out a hiss, your nails digging into the muscles in his back furiously, but he wouldn’t stop for that. He never stuttered in his pace, just kept ramming his hips into yours, heavy balls slapping against your ass and lewd squelches coming from where your bodies are connected.

You’re overstimulated, throat feeling raw and tears still falling down your heated cheeks as you thrash from another orgasm, this one just as powerful as the last and making your vision spot black. This time Shouta leans back, wrapping a hand around your throat and licking the salty trails away.

“Such a good little kitty for me, so good.” With a few more thrusts he’s spilling inside you, and you can feel the warmth spread in your belly as you lay there, boneless. He lays down on top of you, both of you sweaty and tired and he starts whispering sweet words into your twitching ears.

“So pretty. You’re so pretty, kitten.”

“Such a good girl for me.”

“You’re all mine, kitty. So good, all for me.” Tears begin to spill from your eyes for a different reason. Up until now you’d lived your life believing nobody wanted you because there was something wrong with you. You never felt ugly, never really felt like there was something truly wrong with you, but you always felt...unwanted. Unloved. Unlovable.

But Shouta makes you feel wanted, and loved, and pretty and all the things you always assumed you didn’t deserve. You’re his kitty now, and you’re such a good kitty for him too. He’s showering you with affection that you’d never known before and you’re shaking from all the overwhelming emotions. He can feel your body quivering, leans back to look at you and cups your face in his warm palm.

“What’s wrong, kitten? Why are you crying?” Your nose twitches as you sniffle, which he mildly notes is fucking adorable.

“Do you mean it? Am I a good kitty?” His eyebrows furrow and he rolls the both of you over so you’re on top of him. He’s peering into your big sad eyes as if reading your soul through them, trying to read the emotions you’re feeling, but it isn’t hard for him to figure out what’s racing through your mind. You nuzzle your nose into his neck and breathe in his scent, his hand coming up to pet your hair and ears.

“Of course, kitten. You’re such a good kitty.” The small reassurance makes you feel warm and happy, your tail flicking softly before curling around both your leg and Shouta’s, the end brushing his skin gently. You can’t help but want to stay with Shouta forever.

#shouta aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa #shouta aizawa x fem reader #shouta aizawa mha #shouta aizawa bnha #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa shouta #aizawa shouta x fem reader #aizawa shouta mha #aizawa shouta bnha #aizawa mha #aizawa bnha #tw: hybrid #shouta aizawa smut #aizawa shouta smut #aizawa smut

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scuttle-buttle · 3 years

Text

WC: 2261

Rated: M

Tags: angst, medical issues, pregnancy complications, hurt/comfort, anxiety, brief mentions of medical procedures but no gore, nothing is technically sad, fluff, papa laszloooo

A/N: honestly tho I am sorry. also i maybe cried a little writing this, which is a first. also also everybody is fine in this it's just emotional

Blame @hardlyinteresting

🧠

"Three weeks…. Three weeks little bean…" you mumble as you rub your protruding stomach after a particularly harsh kick to your ribs. The chair was a sweet relief to your ankles after a long day at work and doing some light chores around the house all afternoon. You had three weeks until you hit 39 weeks into your pregnancy. As much as you were anxious you were ready. Ready to not feel like a bloated whale. Ready to not have sore feet. But most of all, ready to hold your baby girl.

Laszlo had been trying to convince you to take it easy and start maternity leave early, but you resisted. The last thing you were about to do is nothing. Most first pregnancies went late anyway, you'd argued, so you didn't worry about it yet. I’m pregnant, not dying - give me another week, you'd told him.

What you didn't tell him was about the headaches. Or how sore your legs were. Or how absolutely exhausted you'd been feeling the last couple weeks. Whenever he would ask if you were alright or offer a foot rub you would just brush it off as third trimester woes. You didn't want to worry him.

You were sat in an armchair in the parlor, feet propped up, damp rag over your eyes. The droning from the tv had your nerves on edge. All you wanted to do was take some tylenol and feel better, but you had been knocking back more than was probably safe the last few days so you went without.

A sudden pain shoots through you causing the rag to fall onto your chest. “Ohh...ow? OW!” You sit up straighter as the ache persists; the dull throbbing in your upper abdomen unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. Were you in labor early? Did she just kick in a bad spot? No no - surely the pain would’ve died down by now had that been the case. Unless? Can babies kick so hard they rupture something? Did my kid just bust my liver? Your thoughts run rampant as you wait, in vain, for the pain to go away. The pricking behind your eyes and in your temples only made it more hellish. Pressing your palm to the spot does nothing, nor do the breathing exercises you had been taught.

When five minutes have passed by without relief you make the choice to call out for your husband. “Laz?” No response. “Laszlo!” A beat passes; nothing. You swallow through your building nausea.

“I swear to fucking-” you growl as you snatch your phone from the end table to your left. You use all your concentration to dial his number.

It rings four times.

“Bärchen, why are you call-”

You don’t let him finish. “Something’s wrong.”

______

Head thrown back into the flat, starchy hospital pillow you groan in frustration. “permanent bedrest?” You scrub the hand not clutching your belly down your face.

The emergency room Obstetrician gives you a pitying look. “I’m afraid so - your blood pressure is high and we want to keep it under control to prevent outcomes such as pre-eclampsia. I recommend doing as little as absolutely possible; get rid of as many stressors as you can.” He flips through your chart. “You said you’ve been having headaches and fatigue for nearly two weeks? Why didn’t you come in sooner?”

Huffing, you tell him “I thought it was just part of the third trimester. Everyone always complains about how bad it is.” He hums in response.

“Well. I’m going to go take a final look at your labs, make sure everything else is fine before we discharge you. I’ll send in my Nurse Practitioner to give you the run down and anything else you’ll need to know. And should anything else like this happen again - get in here immediately.” He pats you awkwardly on the hand before nodding at Laszlo and leaving the room.

Laszlo.

Sparing a glance from the corner of your eye you see him looking towards his lap, his weaker hand cradled in the other. He’d been quiet since you admitted when your symptoms had first begun. Every single time he’d asked you how you were feeling you had lied to him. Granted, you didn’t technically know you were lying. But it makes little difference when you’re sitting in the ER. He had every reason to be upset.

“Laszlo honey,” you reach over to him. Slowly he takes your proferred hand and stands, coming to stop beside the bulky bed frame. His thumb caresses your wrist.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve examined the signs, kept a better eye on you.”

“Laz-”

“-No-”

“-I didn’t want to worry you, okay?-” Your voice breaks as you defend yourself.

“-I could’ve done something, maybe- I don't know!” His slightly raised voice startles you quiet. The pain in his eyes only makes you feel guiltier. He licks his lips. “I took the liberty of calling your mother. She will be here tomorrow afternoon and will be staying in the guest room as long as we need her.”

Now you look away, indignant. “I don’t need to be watched like I’m a child.” The tears behind your eyelids rush in; a lone drop trailing down your cheek as the embarrassment settles within your gut. You knew that at some point it was likely you would need her here. However you imagined it to be under happier circumstances. A deep inhale fails to calm your sobs. “I just- I don’t want to be a burden with all this.” Your tears flow freely now.

“My dear you could never be.” Laszlo sits on the edge of the bed. He rests his right palm above the swell of your child, his left cupping along the curve of your jaw. He tilts you to face him. “But the health of you and our girl is what is most crucial now. Let us take care of you. Please.”

A gentle kick underneath his palm from your daughter is answer enough.

__________

Two weeks. 14 days.

Lying in bed, sitting in the same spot for hours on end was actually going to be the death of you. You were sure of it.

Your mother truly has been a huge help since arriving. Laszlo wanted to start his paternity leave, but you insisted that he stay until you were closer to your due date. Which couldn’t come fast enough, you might add. Both Laszlo and your mother were prone to pestering you about some things, but at other times if you truly wanted to be alone they gave you your space. Now was one of those times. Laptop to your side, you watch another episode of Grey’s Anatomy. A knock sounds. You turn to see your husband standing in the doorway, the blood pressure monitor in arm.

He gives you a bright smile. “How are you two on this fine afternoon?”

“Cut it with the attitude, bucko. Let’s get this over with.” The words, while harsh, had little bite to them. His brow raises but he says nothing. You honestly felt bad that you’d been in a pretty foul mood since being discharged. On more than one occasion you’d said as much to Laszlo and your mother - they didn’t deserve your ire. Thankfully they understood why you were so frustrated.

You held the strap in place as he secured the velcro and started the machine. Buzzing filled the overall quiet room. Closed eyes you wait. Some days your results were higher than others. Unless you became higher than a certain threshold the doctor said you were safe to be home. At the sound of a beep Laszlo unhooks the cuff, reporting that your levels are within the acceptable range. When he goes to leave you alone you clutch at his sleeve. He waits as you peer up at him. “Stay?”

He never could say no to you.

______

Little bean’s ruthless treatment of your bladder had you up for the second time that night. You waddled to the bathroom to attend to your business and wash your hands. Glancing at the circles under your eyes in the mirror you sigh. “I love you baby bean but you’re giving me a run for my money here, kid,” you whisper as you rub your stomach. Three days, you remind yourself.

The floor creaks as you shuffle back to bed. Suddenly, an odd warm trickling sensation travels down your legs. “What the fuck?” Looking down around your bulging bump you find yourself standing in a small puddle, the glint of the bathroom night light reflecting off the surface. “Shit okay…ah Laszlo? Hey, I need you to wake up.”

He grumbles. With a roll of your eyes you walk over and shake him awake. “Hey- what-” he sits up instantly and blinks at you. “Is everything alright?”

“My water broke.”

He hops into action right away. Moving you to sit on the bed, he pulls out his cell phone to call your doctor. As he talks you watch him move around the room, the phone wedged between his ear and shoulder, as he collects your hospital supplies. You feel useless as you sit. Yet, you know that your priority needs to be keeping yourself calm and that moving around could exacerbate your condition.

He hangs up. Coming to stand in front of you he presses a kiss to your forehead; “I’ll go wake your mother. Don’t move, Liebling.”

As you sit you blow out a long breath. You look down at your bump. “Guess you decided you’re ready to go, huh kid?” The tip of your fingers brush along the side of your stomach. “I know we’re ready for you too. We’re going to love you so much, and your daddy? He’s gonna be the best, you’ll see.” Placing your palms flat she nudges you from within.

_____

The doctors decided that a c-section was the safest route. You both knew it was a possibility, but you had hoped that after weeks of bedrest that your blood pressure would balance out enough for a natural delivery. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. They monitored you for an hour before your contractions began, officially confirming you were in fact in active labor and dilating. After the fourth hour your blood pressure began to spike again. That’s when they decided to prep you for the procedure.

The operation went smoothly. The atmosphere of the surgical suite was tense with your nerves, but Laszlo’s calming words and his hand squeezing yours kept the anxiety from spilling over. You even found it in you to poke fun at how ridiculous he looked in the puffy blue elastic hair cap he wore.

When the first cries rang out you nearly tried to hop off the table to see your baby. The doctors worked quickly to ensure you were in proper condition while the infant was cleaned.

“Dad? Would you like to come and cut the cord?” one of the nurses calls out.

Laszlo looks back at them before turning to face you. He searches your eyes for a moment; “go,” you nod with a smile. You watch as he did what the nurses instructed as best you could, her soft wails echoing in the small room. He returns to you right after while they finish wrapping her up in a blanket.

“She’s beautiful my dear,” your professor confesses. He leans to give you a lingering kiss. “I’m so unbelievably proud of you.”

“I love you so much.”

“As I love you.”

The doctor interrupts your moment. “Would you like to hold your baby girl?” The question is directed at you, but you look over to your husband. The man you love more than life itself. He stares at the little bundle as if she’s the most incredible sight he’s ever laid eyes on. He can’t take his gaze off her. His irises sparkle with unshed tears as he looks on with wonder.

“Laz?” Finally he breaks away. “Hold your little girl - she’s been waiting to meet her Papa.”

Carefully the doctor shifts his hold on the babe to slide her into Laszlo’s waiting arm. He swallows as he pulls her to his chest. Something caught between a sob and a laugh leaves him. You blink through your own tears at the sight of your husband and daughter, a sight so far beyond perfect there could be no words. Laszlo held her with such delicacy, such reverence. It was as if any moment she could slip away as though a dream.

“Hello there my little dove, I’ve been waiting a very long time to meet you.” He doesn’t bother to wipe away the streams that fall from his eyes. “I’m your Papa and I-” he sniffs, looking towards the ceiling and blinking rapidly to clear his eyes. You rest your hand on his bicep. “I love you so very much. I would give you the world if I could. Your grandfather didn’t...he was not....” he pauses to gather himself. “To me you are the greatest gift I could ever receive. I will be the best father I can for you. A father worthy of you. Mein Gott, Ich liebe dich my darling dove.”

He continued to hold her in his arms until it was time to take you into the recovery room. When he had asked if you wanted her you simply shook your head. You would get your chance, you had a lifetime to do so. But your Laszlo needed this. He needed his little dove.

Tag list

@hardlyinteresting @lorna-d-m @livvyshmiv @somethingthatsaysbubbles @greeneyedblondie44 @unbeatablecurlgirl @apparrio @marchingicenotes7 @anteroom-of-death @bruhidaniel @lemairepstuff @thehuiabird @zemosimp05 @alindeluce @iamnotthecatladynextdoor @laura-naruto-fan1998 @trelaney @boneheadduluc @i-am-dead-inside-666 @fictionlandslanddreams @that-one-fandom-kid @hb8301 @fandom-princess-forevermore @foggycandywitch @creme-bruhlee @andy-rocks @nonamec0s @everythingbeginsineternity-blog @uncomfortablebagel @rachelicouss @wisia02

153 notes · View notes

kaepop-trash · 3 years

Note

i love unintended consequences and all those little snippets you’ve written for it 🥺 i hope it’s not too much to ask but i would really like to see how johnny would pamper her when she’s pregnant/deal with the pregnancy side effects and him as a dad 🧸no pressure tho, stay safe and drink lots of water!

I loved this ask so much because I think most people feel nervous talking about the more unsavoury parts of pregnancy. I've heard people talk about how terrible some stuff was, including the decisions that should be made. I always write keeping in mind that this is a predominantly young audience and if I'm going to write for them, I might as well try to give a more honest, mature perspective on these things. Thanks for letting me explore this anon!

You didn't mention it so I kept this more fluffy and didn't add any smut.🙈

I'd gladly write more of this anytime.

WC: 2.5k

___

(Y/N) got up from the couch immediately when Sooyoung came and stood in front of her. It was Johnny who grabbed Sooyoung's arm before she could, helping her sit down comfortably. She gave him a grateful smile before turning to (Y/N).

"I can't believe I'm having twins." She sighed, grinning nonetheless.

"You definitely look like you're having twins." She looked down at the space between them, Sooyoung's belly bigger than what Joohyun's had been at eight months.

"I feel like it too." She mumbled, turning to Johnny, "Have you seen my husband?" She asked.

"He's speaking to your doctor on the phone, trying to get a room. Should I go get him?" Johnny asked dutifully, already getting out of his seat. Sooyoung smiled in a way that (Y/N) could distinguish, but Johnny just cluelessly waited.

"No, that's okay, Johnny. I'm sure he'll find his way back. Why are you so nervous?" She chuckled, grinning wider when Johnny fumbled.

"You're about to go into a room to give birth to two children simultaneously. I don't know why you aren't nervous." He gave her an uncomfortable smile, rubbing the back of his neck when both (Y/N) and Sooyoung laughed.

"I've been having contractions for 16 hours now. The only thing I want right now is for them to just come out." Sooyoung groaned as another one hit her, reaching for the paper cup in (Y/N)'s hand with the now practically melted ice chips.

"I'll go see where Mark went with the ice." Johnny eyed the cup. "(Y/N) will be here with you." He pointed at his own wife, giving her a serious nod before walking away.

Sooyoung turned to (Y/N) with the same smile as earlier. "He's very sweet." She grinned.

(Y/N) gasped as a joke, putting a hand over her mouth. "It took you seven years to realise that? Motherhood is changing you already." She laughed when Sooyoung shoved her shoulder with her own.

"I've always known it obviously. Do you think I would have let you marry just anyone?" Sooyoung scoffed. "What I mean is, he's being very sweet about this." She pointed at her belly. "Makes me wonder why you haven't thought about it yet. You've always wanted kids." Sooyoung said a little slowly, trying to avoid her gaze.

"We've talked about it obviously." (Y/N) looked away, "We've talked about it a lot." She blushed, thinking back to all the “talking” they did.

"But?" Sooyoung questioned. "Is he scared or something?" She furrowed her brows.

(Y/N) scoffed, "It's not him.” She laughed, pushing her hair back. There was a pause as (Y/N) tried to put into words a sentiment she had been holding close to her chest for a long time now. "I think I need to quit my job before I think about having a child. It's–" She winced, "I don't want somebody else to raise my child while I'm at a job I hate. You know how I will about that.” She paused again, biting down on her tongue.

"So quit." Sooyoung shrugged, rolling her eyes when (Y/N) looked up at her with a tired look.

"It's not that simple." She fidgeted with her hands.

"Yes it is." Sooyoung put a gentle palm on her best friend's hand, "You already know what you want. You're afraid to stop working because you've done it your entire life and because it’s all you’ve seen growing up. But it's fine, we all have to move on from old things to make way for new ones."

"It's not just that." She sighed

"(Y/N)." Sooyoung's voice was stern, "I think at this point it's a little unfair to Johnny if you still think that you need to be a contributor for him to respect you. I don't say anything because I know that after everything you struggled through, being successful was important to you. I know." Sooyoung paused, the tightening grip on (Y/N)'s arm signalling another contraction.

(Y/N) checked her watch, "That was 10 minutes, you're almost there." She encouraged her through the pain, rubbing her back soothingly. Once it passed, she sat back with a sigh.

"Just quit. Spend a year with your husband, think about kids then. If later you think different, you're qualified enough to find a job anywhere. Make mistakes, (Y/N). But don't just sit like a lame duck. Life's too short to waste it between decisions." She spoke as the pain slowly subsided.

"You're already gaining your mom wisdom." (Y/N) smiled endearingly at her, grateful for having the most loving people around her.

"It's all the reflection I do between the late night tossing I do because my stomach is too big." Sooyoung groaned as another contraction hit her already.

Mark finally stumbled from the corner with a paper cup in his hands, curse words spilling out of his mouth as he approached till a passing nurse clicked her tongue at him.

___

“I want one.” She sighed, putting her head on top of the finally cooing baby. For an hour now, Johnny and (Y/N) tried their best to get the twins to stop crying.

Sooyoung and Doyoung finally went to bed a while back and Mark lay sprawled on the couch, passed out after his turn to watch the new members of the family.

"Yeah?" Johnny whispered, lips tugging. He rocked the other one in his arm, positively gleaming. It made her heart flutter.

She sighed a little deeper, hugging the baby closer to her chest, “Yeah.” She nodded. “But–” She stopped to lick her lips, feeling like she was shielding herself with the child. Johnny’s smile fell and she shortened her hesitation. “I want to quit my job.” She took a deep breath to help find courage, “My mom was always working and I love her, I really do. She’s taught me how to survive by myself, how to prioritise my worth over everything.” She paused when the baby in her lap cooed, gazing down to look at her with a smile. “But when I look back, my fondest memories involve Sooyoung’s mom. She taught me how to cook, how to care, how to be compassionate.” She felt a lump building in her throat.

“Sooyoung’s mom was the person I called when I broke my arm, she was the one who advised me when I had my first heartbreak.” (Y/N) closed her eyes, “I love my mom, I want to give my children her values.” She took a shaking breath, terrified of her own words. “But I want to be the person my children come to when they want comfort.” She hugged Sooyoung's daughter, thinking about the loving life she would have.

“You don’t have to justify yourself, (Y/N).” Johnny said tenderly. “But I appreciate that you wanted to share that. I know you don’t talk about your parents. You carry so much by yourself.” He slid closer to her, resting the baby down on his lap. “I know you never make a decision without beating yourself about it constantly. If you think it’s what you have to do, I’m always going to have your back. That’s marriage.” Johnny looked down when the baby reached his arms out, laughing and picking him back up to rock again.

“Okay.” She nodded, “I’m going back home and quitting. We can talk about this properly then.” She felt overwhelmed.

Johnny bit down on his lip, looking at his friend’s son and then covering his ears, “We can start trying now though, right?” He wiggled his brows.

She sat back and laughed as quietly as she could, “I don’t think he can understand you.”

“Let’s not risk it with Doyoung and Sooyoung’s kids, yeah? Doyoung nags and Sooyoung scares me.” He sounded serious.

She laughed a little more, earning a babble of approval from her friend’s newborn daughter.

___

Johnny woke up at the sound of the bathroom door shutting. He slipped out of bed, noting the time on the bedside clock and sighing. He rubbed the sleep out of his house and ventured to the kitchen.

He knocked on the bathroom door softly, smiling when he heard a grunt.

"Just leave me alone." He heard her say softly. Johnny grinned, opening the door.

"But you're so sexy when you're heaving." He spoke as he entered, frowning when he saw her on the floor trying to keep her head up, dizzy again. Johnny put the glass of gingerale he came with down on the counter, wordlessly coming to sit behind her. He pulled her between his legs, rubbing soothing circles on her back. She rested her head back on his chest and Johnny tried to pat off the sweat on her forehead.

She gave him a grateful smile, one he mirrored despite her eyes being closed.

"I'm so tired of this." She sighed, "Does that make me a bad human being?" She whispered reluctantly.

Johnny clicked his tongue, "It makes you human." He pushed more of her hair back, just in time for her face to contort as he leaned over the toilet again.

"Five more months, baby." Johnny tried to lighten the mood, chuckling when she sat back and elbowed his side.

"Don't make me hit you." She warned, earning a quick okay from him.

They sat there for a while, when she looked like she wasn't going to puke again he poked her cheek.

"You want to take a shower? It always makes you feel better." He offered. She gave him an exhausted nod.

"I'll do it, you go back to bed. You have work tomorrow." She started moving away from him but he stopped her, turning her gently to face him.

"We're in this together, (Y/N)." He reminded her, hand going to her slowly emerging belly.

"It's just a shower." Despite her words, her eyes were drenched with gratitude.

"It's just work." He countered, slowly helping her get off the floor. She tugged on his arm, making him look down.

"You're perfect, do you know that?" She told him with glistening eyes.

"A few hours ago you were blaming me for knocking you up." He tapped his chin.

"I'm more changeable than usual lately." She shrugged.

___

Johnny grabbed (Y/N)’s arm to help her sit down. It was one of the less comfortable days of her second trimester and the long car ride it took to get to the vacation home wasn't helping.

"Wow," Yuta laughed, sitting back on the couch. "Look at how big you've gotten. There's a whole baby cooking inside you." He sounded equal parts amazed and amused.

"Shut up." She frowned, "If you choose now out of all possible moments to talk about the magic of childbirth I will make you rub my swollen feet." She threatened him, making Yuta lift his arms in surrender.

As she said that, she turned over to put her feet in her husband's lap. Johnny didn't need to look down to start rubbing them.

"What did he do?" Yuta laughed, pointed at Johnny.

"Get me pregnant, for starters." She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "And it's already huge because of his giant genes too." She tried to re-adjust herself at the new angle. Johnny noticed her fumbling, reaching for a pillow and putting it behind her back.

"You love me." Johnny kissed the air between them. "She loves me." He turned to Yuta,earning a scoff from both of them.

The doorbell rang and Mark spoke from the kitchen saying he'd get it.

"Oh my god, (Y/N)" Jungwoo said when he walked into the room with Yeri in tow. "You've become huge!" He gasped, pouting when Yeri smacked his arm.

(Y/N) turned to Johnny, an annoyed pout already dancing on her lips. "I'm starting to believe that this weekend getaway was a bad idea." Johnny laughed, reaching one hand over to squeeze her hand.

"Haechan isn't even here yet." Johnny reminded her, eyes turning up with delight when she groaned.

"If one more person talks about how big I am, I'll sit on them." She warned.

Johnny grinned and almost immediately she regretted her words.

"Come here, big girl." He extended his arms and beckoned her to him. She threw a pillow with an annoyed whine.

___

(Y/N) woke up out of habit more than anything else, eyeing the clock on the table first and then realising that the monitor was uncharacteristically silent for what was feeding time. When she turned over, she smiled and understood why.

Before she even reached the door, she could hear Johnny cooing at their newborn. A tired smile of unabashed pride rising on her lips.

"You're going to get so big and strong." Johnny cooed, once she came to the door, (Y/N) saw him dangling a toy over the child's outreached arms. "You're already such a good baby, aren't you? You get that from your mom I can tell." Johnny sniggered to himself, "You don't to cry or fuss." He leaned down to kiss their forehead.

(Y/N) leaned against the doorframe, watching the exchange with an amused smile.

"But you're always reaching for your mom. Always looking around for her. You get that from me." There was a glow of pride in his eyes. "We're both a little lost without your mum around, aren't we?" He rocked up and down till he heard a small giggle, a short laugh leaving his lips at the sound.

Johnny put the toy down to reach for the bottle on the table and (Y/N)'s heart squeezed with more love for her incredibly thoughtful husband.

"I can't believe you're my little baby." Johnny grinned as eager, tiny hands reached out to grab the bottle. "I'm going to teach you how to throw a ball and give you your first beer someday. Maybe we can both learn how to make your mom's cake." Johnny laughed to himself, "I'm going to love you so much." Johnny scrunched his nose when a little hand wrapped around his finger. "I'm the luckiest man in the world and you're proof, you know that?" He whispered, eyes glowing despite the dim light in the room. "All this because your mom thought I was a hairy ghost." He giggled to himself.

"You need to stop talking about that." She finally gave in, speaking up. Johnny looked up, wide eyed before grinning when he saw her. "Plus, it was a witch."

Johnny laughed, tired but content. "Just know now. I'm going to tell our kids this till they're sick of this story. Then I'm going to tell their friends and their spouses. Even the other's kids are going to grow up listening to our story." Johnny stuck his tongue out at her before giving her a love struck smile as she came closer, "We're my favourite story." He leaned over to kiss her forehead as she stood in front of her husband and child.

"I thought that was Iron Man?" She raised a brow.

"Oh damn." Johnny winced, "Tough choice." He clicked his tongue. She rolled her eyes at him, reaching down to tickle the baby's belly.

___

Send me an ask about a character from one of my fics in a scenario and I’ll write a drabble.

Character from: Unintended Consequences

#unintended consequences #miscellaneous #johnny scenarios #johnny #nct johnny #johnny x reader #johnny au #nct #nct 127 #nct scenarios #kpop scenarios #johnny imagines #johnny drabble #nct imagines #nct drabbles #fluff

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jaesvelvet · 3 years

Text

scariest night — hamada asahi

warnings: grammartical errors

words: 1.8k words

pairing: husband! asahi + fem reader

notes: hi!! before you read this, i didn't study about medical so i didn't know if it make sense or not and enjoy reading!! <3

You open your eyes when your throat feels dry, you turn to your left— not surprised when Asahi is not there, beside you. He must be sleeping in the studio... Again.

You didn’t realize when you let out a sigh from your mouth, it’s been a month he didn’t come home often. Of course, you understand his work as a producer. He is completely busy in comeback season, and you wouldn’t mind if he sleeps in the studio for a day or two, not for a month. You want to talk to him about this but every time you want to speak up he is either asleep or playing with your daughter, Aimi.

It’s 2 am now, he didn’t even bother to text you or call. You get annoyed at his behavior, leaving you and your daughter alone.

Grabbing the water bottle from your nightstand, you take a sip for your dry throat. The sound of the door creaked, making your eyes look up to the door, hoping for Asahi. Your eyes soften when the person who opened the door is not Asahi but Aimi, pouting while hugging her teddy bear tightly.

“What’s wrong baby?” you asked, get out from the bed you shared with Asahi, walk towards your daughter.

“There’s a monster under my bed,” she said slowly, showing her puppy eyes to you. You smile, it’s not the first time she said there’s a monster under her bed, this is one of her tricks to sleep with you and Asahi.

“Really? Do you want to sleep with mama then?” you asked, caressing her brown silky hair.

Aimi nods her head

“And papa too!”

“Honey I’m sorry, Papa is still at work, tonight you sleep with me okay?” you said earning a pout from her.

“Why is Papa always not here?” she asked

“Well, Papa needs to raise us so he needs to work hard for money”

“I miss Papa,” she said

You kiss her forehead and carry her to bed

“I miss Papa too” you murmur, making sure the little girl didn’t hear.

+.*

You toss your phone to the couch, cursing under your breathe as Asahi didn’t pick up your call. You wander around your living room, having no idea how to reach your husband. Aimi has been coughing nonstop this week, you wouldn't bother to call Asahi if it’s just a normal cough, but when she said her chest pain whenever she cough, that made you worried sick.

Your phone rang making you flinched, you sigh when you saw your mom’s name on the screen instead of Asahi’s name. Lazily you press the green button and put your phone to your ear

“Hello, mom”

“Y/N I hope you do not forget about today’s dinner!” your mom said excitedly. Your eyes shut tightly, you did forget about today’s dinner. Your mom has planned this dinner for a month to celebrate your sister’s graduation from Seoul University.

“Of course not mom haha” you laugh awkwardly. You don’t want to come, you rather stay home with Aimi, but you hate seeing your mom’s disappointed face. She has been planning this for a month, she also said that she misses Aimi so much, how could you not come?

“That’s great! Don’t be late, I can’t wait to smooch my granddaughter” that is the last word your mom said before hanging up.

You sigh for the nth time. Like it or not, she needs to come to the dinner, she could ask her dad to send them to the hospital after dinner.

You enter Aimi’s room, her face a bit pale and shivering under her thick blanket, holding your tears, you slowly caressing her hair, waking her up from her sleep.

“Honey do you want to go to grandma’s house?” you ask

She looks at you for a second, processing your words maybe before giving you a wide smile from her chapped lips.

“Yes! I miss grandma so much” she said

You kiss her forehead and helps her to get up from her bed

“Grandma also misses you so much, but you need to shower first okay?”

“Will Papa be at grandma’s house too?” Aimi asked, her eyes full of hopes, making you scared to lie to her.

“Yes Papa will be there too,” you said with a reassuring smile.

+.*

“Grandma!” Aimi runs to hug her grandma, she laughs when your mother starts kissing her face. You thanked your sister for booking an Uber for you if she weren't here, maybe both of you didn’t come for dinner.

“Why are you so thin, did your mom's food taste bad?” she asked

Aimi laughs and shook her head, she wrapped her arms around your mother’s neck

“Mama food taste the best but can’t beat grandma’s!” she said

“Hey!” you frown, making both your mother and your daughter laugh.

You let your daughter stick around with her cousins while you waiting for Asahi to come, he texted you that he will make it to the dinner, you didn’t put your trust in his words so much as he seems to love his work more than both of you.

You feel relieved when you see his car in front of your mother’s house, you called Aimi to inform her that Asahi is here, she wastes no time and runs towards her dad. Asahi smile when he saw her daughter, he immediately wraps his hands around her small body and carries her towards you.

“I miss Papa,” she said, pouting to her dad, Asahi let out an apologetic smile to her and kiss her cheek

“I’m sorry pumpkin, Papa is very busy right now, but I promise, I will take you to the funfair if my works are done, okay!”

Aimi nods excitedly, Asahi kisses her forehead for the last time before letting her down to play with her cousins.

“Why do you never answer my call?” you asked, glaring at him.

Asahi sigh, he silks his hair back and looks at you.

“Seriously Y/N? I just came back from work, and this is your first question? No ‘how are you?’ or ‘did you eat yet?’” he asked

You scoff, crossing both of your arms on your chest

“You’re the one who should ask me that, you left us for a whole month Sahi”

“I left you for a reason, I have so much works to do, I thought you agreed with me for staying in the studio?”

“For a couple of days, not a whole month!” you nearly scream, you try your best to control yourself, not wanting to make any scene.

“You know how am I when it comes to work right? I need everything to be perfect, you should be more understanding”

“Leave, then”

“What?”

“I said leave! If you love your job more than—”

“Don’t twist my word Y/N, I never said—”

“Y/N, Asahi! Aimi faints!” your sister screams

Both of you immediately run towards Aimi, your whole body shaking when you see Aimi on the floor, her face pale, worst than before. You quickly carry her and making your way to Asahi’s car, he starts the engine and drives to the hospital.

“You still need to call an ambulance, you know how deep your mom’s house right? I’m afraid we didn’t make it to the hospital as soon as possible” he said

You nodded and dialed 911. Your mom's house is deep in the woods, it would take half an hour to get to the main road.

“What happens to her?” Asahi asks

“S-she’s been coughing this whole week, and today she said her chest pain whenever she cough and I tried to reach you, but as I said you love your works more than your own family,” you said

Asahi sigh. Talking back to you can’t make Aimi recover, he realized that he gives his attention to his works more than his family.

You are at the back seat, caressing your daughter’s pale face. You couldn’t stop praying, hoping she would be alright. Your hands that caressing her pale face, moves to her neck, your eyes getting bigger when you feel her pulse getting weak, you scream and softly tapping on Aimi’s cheek.

“Aimi, please don't leave mama yet” you cry, your hands cold as ice, your heart beats faster than usual and your tears couldn't stop from falling. Asahi cry on the spot, is this really the last moment for them?

He presses the gas pedal more, the car getting fast through the crooked road.

“Aimi, please” he prays

The loud sirens making both of you guys sigh in relief, Asahi stop the car in front of the ambulance, you quickly getting out from the car and pass your daughter to the paramedics. Asahi pulls you into a hug, your knees weak at the side of your daughter lay on the bed while the paramedics take out the defibrillator and place it on Aimi’s chest.

You bury your face on Asahi’s chest, you are reluctant to watch the scene in front of you.

“Aimi would be okay, she is strong” Asahi whispers to you, he rubs your back and kisses your forehead to calm you down. A moment later, the defibrillator success ending the dysrhythmia, Aimi’s heart begins to beat slowly. You slowly push Asahi’s body away and enter the ambulance to accompany your daughter. Asahi gets back to his car, follows the ambulance, he harshly hit the steering wheel, how could he ignore your call? If he could turn back time, he would rather spend time with you and Aimi than at the studio. For now, he could pray for nothing to happen to Aimi.

+.*

You and Asahi sit silently on the chair, watching your daughter breathe with the help of an oxygen mask. The doctor said that Aimi suffering from Pneumonia. Coughing, Pain chest, and hard breathing are symptoms of pneumonia. Luckily it is not worse yet and still can be treated, Aimi needs to stay in the hospital for a couple of days.

Asahi licks his lip, he softly rubs your hand.

“I’m sorry,” he said

You didn’t give him a reaction, you were too tired to deal with anything after your daughter almost died in your arm.

“This is all my fault, I should know my limits when working, I- if only I pick up your calls— gosh I hate myself so much” he starts sobbing, covers his face with his palm and his shoulders bounce since he breathes in and breathes out in quick succession.

“Everything is okay now” you whispers, tapping on his back

He shook his head

“Y/N, love I'm truly sorry,” he said, facing you, you could see his red and swollen face from crying earlier.

You give him a reassuring smile

“I hope you learned your lesson, please come home, babe,” you said. He nods and hugs you tightly, tonight is the scariest night for the both of you.

#treasure imagines #treasure scenario #treasure blurbs #treasure asahi imagines #treasure asahi #hamada asahi #asahi imagines #asahi scenario #treasure angst #asahi fluff #asahi angst

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theladyofdeath · 3 years

Text

Life As We Know It {Chapter 20}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. Occasional surprise chapters could be posted at miscellaneous times. Chapters will be posted on both my and Shelby’s blogs! >> @snelbz

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

A/N: 18+, mature readers only, nsfw.

Cassian moved before he’d even realized what he was doing.

His lips met Nesta’s before he could think better of it, and the second their mouths met, he was done for.

One time.

They had agreed that the last time would be the one and only time.

And yet, when he kissed her, she fell into him and her arms wrapped around his neck.

He stepped closer, closing that small space between them, and pressed his body up against hers as he lifted her up and set her on the counter.

Bracing his hands on each side of Nesta’s ass, her legs wrapped firmly around his waist.

They’d been dancing around this for days, weeks even, and Cassian wouldn’t have been lying if he said that he’d been happy when she broke it with the doctor a couple weeks before. He wanted her to be happy, she deserved to be happy and if that was with someone else, he’d accept it. But the feeling of her lips on his had him feeling alive, the way her lithe hands gripped his shoulders lit a fire within him.

One of his own hands gripped her hip, the other slipping around her waist, and he slanted his mouth over hers. His tongue brushed against her lips, and she opened for him, the kiss slow but searing.

She took his breath away.

Years ago, if someone told him he’d be kissing Nesta Archeron, that he’d have feelings for her, he would’ve thought them crazy. Now, however, he couldn’t believe he didn’t see it sooner.

Sure, she was a pain in the ass, but he wasn’t exactly a walk in the park, either.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered, into her mouth. “Tell me to stop, and I’ll stop.”

Nesta pulled him closer to her, gripping the back of his t-shirt, almost as if she was afraid if she let go, he’d pull away.

He wouldn’t, though.

If she wasn’t going to tell him to stop, if she didn’t want him to stop, he sure as hell wasn’t going to.

There was no alcohol coursing through them this time, this was all of their own free will. Their need for each other.

And gods, he wanted her. He needed her. He’d thought of no one but her for months, especially after the first time before. And now here they were again, as if fate were putting them back together, as Rhys and Feyre had tried to do before.

His tongue explored her mouth, taking his time, so unhurried, so different from the last time he’d kissed her. Cassian had been so lost in his lust for her that he hadn’t taken the time to appreciate her, to note the noises she made or how soft her lips were or how she smelled like a crisp, autumn night.

But this time, he wouldn’t waste a second. He wanted to learn what made her moan, how to make her writhe and just what he needed to do to make Nesta Archeron lose control.

For someone who was typically so damn put together, he needed to see her wild, free, untamed.

Nesta seemed to feel that want, that desperate need, too, because as Cassian nipped at her bottom lip, she whimpered and her thighs on either side of him tightened.

Cassian was done wasting time.

In a quick, fluid motion, Cassian pulled her top off and tossed it somewhere behind him. He didn’t know where. He didn’t care where. As long as it wasn’t left on her body, hiding her beautiful skin, the roadmap that he was about to spend his sweet, cherished time exploring.

She did the same to him, but she was much more deliberate in tossing his clothes aside. She gripped the fabric in her hands for a moment before dropping it down, next to his feet.

Cassian pulled back and Nesta ran her hands down the defined muscles of his abdomen. She watched her fingers attentively as they made their way from his shoulders, to the band of his sweatpants.

His chest was heaving, and he could barely contain himself as she gently tugged on the band. His lips found her neck and he bit and licked the sensitive skin there, listening to the quiet gasps that escaped her. He lingered at the spot beneath her ear, his hands pressing against her bare back, feeling her, pressing her against him.

“Take me upstairs,” Nesta breathed, gasping as he sucked along the base of her neck.

Cassian shook his head, slowly, continuing to kiss down her neck, along her collarbone, tracing the outline of her bra. “I can’t wait that long,” he whispered.

Nesta’s breath left her as she pushed the band of his sweats down with her fingertips, then her heels until he was slowly stepping out of them in nothing but his boxer-briefs.

“Can’t wait that long to do what, exactly?” she asked, and Cassian pulled back, his arms remaining around her.

He kissed her forehead, then her nose, and her lips. “What I’ve been dreaming of doing for weeks,” he promised. “And taking my damn time, this time, doing it.”

Nesta’s palm found his stubbled cheek before reaching around the back of his head and tugging his lips back to hers.

His only lips stayed there for a moment before they were trailing down, down, down, between the valley of her breasts. He pushed her back until she was laying down against the counter and his mouth hovered over the waistband of leggings she wore.

She watched him, mesmerized by the gentleness of the kisses he pressed to her abdomen, his warm breath heating her skin, until he reached up and pulled on the fabric. She lifted her hips in earnest, letting him tug them down, the lace panties she wore going with them.

Cassian stood again, gazing down at her. She was bare before him, save for the pale, pink bra she wore, but he’d make short work of that soon. For now, there was only one thing he could focus on.

His fingers brushed against the inside of her thigh and her legs opened wider subtly. Watching him, her cheeks flushed and eyes wild, Nesta thought she may combust as he crouched between her legs.

His mouth was even with her sex.

“Have you thought about this as much as I have?” He asked, and she could feel his breath against her. “Thought about my mouth on you?”

She nodded, the ability to speak long gone.

Cassian went on, but he moved no closer. “About my tongue between your legs?”

“Yes.” The word was a whisper, but it was all she could manage.

He was right there, so close to where she needed him, where she’d imagined him for weeks.

But first he admired her, and took in the image of her smooth, pretty pink pussy before him. He parted her folds before leaning in and dragging his tongue slowly down the center.

Nesta’s body tensed, then soon relaxed as a soft curse fell from her lips.

Cassian said he would take his time with her, and it wasn’t a lie, wasn’t an exaggeration.

His tongue slid between her folds, once more, then again, and again, and again. She tasted so sweet, so addicting.

Cassian gripped her ass and pulled her closer into his mouth. His tongue circled her clit, slowly, tauntingly, then he began to suck. Slowly, at first, his eyes wide open, looking up at her, memorizing every movement of her body.

Her fingertips turned white, one hand gripping the countertop, the other cupping her breast.

Her lips were parted, her eyes closed, her face relaxed, perfectly at peace.

Lost in bliss.

She moved her hips, a sign for him to keep going, a sign for him to move quicker, but he wouldn’t.

He would take his fucking time.

She seemed to realize that as he gently flicked his tongue over her clit again, because even as she gasped, her hips stilled. She seemed to be restraining herself, trying so hard to keep her body still, but he noted every squirm, jerk and bow that her body made off of the counter.

Nesta’s fingers found their way into Cassian’s hair, the only part of her body that moved freely. Other than that, her body remained still, although those beautiful, long, delicate fingers gripped Cassian’s dark waves and pulled, her grip tightening every time his tongue flicked over her.

It wasn’t until her knees began to shake on either side of his head that Nesta began to lose control.

He loved it when she lost control.

She moaned, the sound making Cassian enthralled enough to repeat it, the noise muffled by the fact that Cassian’s mouth was satisfyingly full.

He wouldn’t tease her tonight. No, he wanted her wild, unleashed.

He wanted to make her cum as many times as he could.

He knew she was approaching that crest, knew her release was imminent, as her fingers tightened in his hair to a point of near pain. Her voice was climbing, the moans turning into cries of pleasure and when she at least cried out his name, Cassian thought it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard.

Nesta’s thighs were wrapped around his head and if this was how he died, he’d consider it a blessing. She shattered, repeating his name over and over again, and he lapped up everything she gave him. He bit and licked and sucked until she was a quivering mess on the counter, until she fell still at last, her heavy breathing the only sound in the house.

Carefully, slowly, Cassian gripped the edge of the counter and pulled himself up, only to look at her.

She was beautiful.

Sprawled out on the counter without a care in the world, Nesta’s eyes were shut. Her chest was heaving, her body limp.

“Cassian,” she breathed, and he kissed the inside of one thigh, then the other, before kissing his way back up her body. “Shit.”

“Those sounds…” Cassian began, shaking his head. “You have no idea what they do to me.” Nesta’s eyes fluttered open, and she met his hungry gaze. “What do they do to you?”

Cassian continued to shake his head, slowly. He felt drunk, even though he hadn’t had a drop of alcohol. “Makes me forget where I am, who I am. The rest of the world fades away. All I can hear, all I can think about...are those damned sounds.”

Nesta pushed herself up into a sitting position, and ran her fingers through Cassian’s hair, once again. Her breaths were still uneven.

Her eyes went wide as she looked up at him and he was about to ask what was wrong.

There was no way she hadn’t enjoyed it, he knew she wasn’t faking her orgasm, there was no way. The proof of it was still on the counter beneath her, on his face.

But then Nesta glanced down at her own hand and then back at the cake behind her.

She burst out laughing.

Her hand was covered in frosting, the cake half smashed. It was a mess.

And in his hair…

Cassian reached up to touch his hair, where she’d run her fingers through it.

Frosting coated most of the strands.

When he looked back at her face, she was blushing, biting her bottom lip, but that smile still held firmly in place. He could tell she was trying not to laugh, even as she said, “Sorry.”

Tugging her to the edge of the counter, stepping between her spread legs, he let his lips brush against hers as he asked, “Is something funny?”

She shook her head, laughter still dancing in her eyes, and he could tell she was physically restraining herself from kissing him.

Wearing nothing but his boxer-briefs, he ground against her, the thin fabric the only barrier between them now, and she gasped. He asked, “You sure?”

Nesta’s restraint snapped and she crashed her lips against his again. Cassian lifted her, his hands beneath her ass and carried her up the stairs, into her room and into the bathroom beyond.

Neither of them said a word, neither of them broke that kiss, as Cassian turned on the water in the shower. Without letting her go, he slipped out of his underwear and Nesta gasped at the instant contact made between them.

He made sure it was warm before he stepped inside and pressed Nesta’s back up against the wall.

Nesta clung to him as if her life depended on it. Their mouths didn’t break, their tongues continued to dance along one another in a steady, fluid motion.

The water poured over them, the sound of the water hitting the tile nearly drowning out the sound of heavy breathing, panting.

“Cassian,” she breathed, head falling back against the tiled wall. Cassian’s lips didn’t part from her skin. They trailed down her neck and sucked on her collarbone.

Nesta rotated her hips, trying to get some sort of friction, but Cassian wasn’t ready. His cock was hard, of course, there was no denying that.

Nesta could feel it.

But that foreplay… He wasn’t done.

Cassian was not a selfish lover. Some men came and went so fast the whole ordeal was nearly meaningless, unmemorable.

Cassian, however, wanted his lover to be pleased, especially when it came to Nesta. Nesta had never felt so important, so focused on.

She wanted him to feel the same way.

With one hand cupping the back of his neck, the other pushed lightly against his chest. He let her feet touch the floor again, but his lips continued their worship of her skin. Her bra had been discarded at some point before they got in the shower, but Cassian wasn’t sure when, nor did he particularly care, not as one of his hands covered her breast. He loved the weight in his hands, adored her breasts. He’d thought about them constantly, but his memories were nothing compared to seeing them again, of rolling her peaked nipple between his fingers. He lived for the sound of the whimpers she made.

His head was dipping to take the other between his lips when a sharp tug on the back of his head had him pausing and looking at her face.

Nesta’s grin was positively feral as she put a hand on his chest and pushed back until he gave a step and then another. And then his own back was pressed against the cool tile wall.

And then Nest dropped to her knees.

Cassian closed his eyes.

He prepared himself for what was coming, but nothing could prepare him for the ethereal feeling that would soon flood his body.

Nesta’s hands rested on his thighs, and her lips wrapped around his hardened cock.

At the contact, Cassian took a deep breath.

Her tongue swirled around the head and he nearly lost himself right there. Nesta Arheron was a tease. A beautiful, definite tease when it came to pleasing him.

Cassian wouldn’t trade it for a thing.

Nesta’s tongue slid across his dick, slowly, as her head began to bob.

Cassian planted himself firmly against the tile wall, careful not to move, afraid it would break the tension.

He cursed.

His curse seemed to light a fire under Nesta.

She moved quicker, lit by his reaction. Cassian’s hand found the back of her head, although she needed no guidance. Nesta knew exactly what she was doing, and Cassian happily let her do it.

One of her hands wrapped around the base of him, covering what she couldn’t take into her mouth and she squeezed gently. He hissed and her eyes found his, the stormy blue sparkling, as if she were remembering how he’d told her he liked it.

Her other hand slid up his body, lingering on his abdomen, before she gently dug her nails into his skin.

Cassian’s own hand tightened in her hair as she did it and the delight in her eyes told him it was exactly what she wanted.

He watched as she took him deeper and deeper with every pass, until that other hand fell between her own legs. He didn’t think he was breathing as her fingers slowly began to circle her clit then teased her entrance.

She was getting off on getting him off and the buck of his hips into her throat was involuntary. He was about to apologize, would have pulled his cock out of her mouth entirely, if it weren’t for the moan and the way she plunged her fingers inside of herself.

Nesta gagged quietly as she took him as deeply as she could, her hips writhing against her own hand and Cassian’s eyes rolled back into his head at the feeling.

He didn’t expect it, how open she was to sucking him dry. But the way she dropped to her knees and took him in, Cassian wouldn't have asked her to do anything differently. She was perfect.

At least, she was perfect for him.

Her tongue slid along his cock, her lips moved freely around him. Cassian was falling into paradise.

She picked up her pace, and Cassian’s fingers gripped the strands of her golden-brown hair a little bit tighter. His hips bucked again, he couldn’t control it, but Nesta didn’t seem to mind. She gripped his ass a little tighter as she moaned, and it only made Cassian do it again and again and again.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “Nesta, fuck.”

She thrived on his curses, bobbing her head just a little bit quicker to let him know she cared.

She cared about his satisfaction.

She cared about him.

He had to have her. He had to be inside her now, not because he was close. No, he could hold out all night if that's what she wanted. But he needed to feel her, all around him, needed her to consume him and needed to be one with her however he could.

Cassian brushed a hand along her hollowed out cheek and under her chin. She stilled and gazed up at him, giving him her full attention, and he ran a thumb along her full bottom lip. His cock still between her lips, Cassian knew he would never tire of the sight.

As if she knew what he was thinking, Nesta stood, her hands trailing up his body, running over every divot and plane of muscle. He was about to reach around her and shut off the water, but Nesta hadn’t forgotten the reason they’d ended up in the shower in the first place.

Grabbing the bottle of shampoo off the small ledge, she squeezed a bit into her hand and, with surprising gentleness, began to work it into his hair. Cassian wasn’t sure if he was breathing as she tipped his head back into the stream and rinsed the bubbles and remaining frosting from his head. When she was through, she got some of her body wash and soaped him up, doing the same to herself, before rinsing them both off.

After she shut the water off, she opened the shower door and grabbed a towel before handing it to him, and grabbing one for herself. She toweled off her hair and body, before stepping out into the open air of the bathroom.

Cassian couldn’t help but watch her as Nesta dropped the towel on the bathroom floor and walked into her bedroom, wearing nothing but her skin.

She glanced over her shoulder as she reached her bed and crawled onto it.

Cassian didn’t instantly follow. No, he watched and waited and took in the sight. After drying himself off, he followed her into the bedroom, towel dropped.

Nesta’s eyes lingered down his body, watched as he approached, bare. For someone so big, so strong, so tall, he approached her with a serene gentleness.

She could hardly breathe. She thought back to Balthazar, and maybe that was wrong in such a moment as this, but she couldn’t help it. She would never feel this way with him, could never feel this way with him.

In this moment, with Cassian, she felt utterly free.

With Balthazar, he was too perfect. She would feel the need to impress, would feel the need to be tamed. With Cassian, though, there was no being tamed. Nesta was free, ready. All she wanted was Cassian, and she needed him right then.

Cassian crawled on top of her on the bed and kissed her, slowly.

With nothing between them, she could feel his hard length pressing into her, and gods, she wanted him. She couldn’t think straight when his lips were moving against hers.

It was perfect. It was like everything that led them there, every horrible thing that had happened, was to bring the two of them together.

He pulled away, just a touch, and leaned back to look at her. Moving on its own accord, her hand reached up and brushed his wet hair out of his face. She wanted to see him, wanted to see every expression in those hazel eyes she’d come to know as well as her own.

He didn’t take them off of her as he lined himself up at her entrance and slowly slid in.

She was so wet, so ready for him, and there was no resistance, but he still let her adjust to him as he settled into her as deeply as he could.

Nesta’s eyes remained on his, and Cassian didn’t dare look away. There were a thousand things he wanted to tell her, felt the need to tell her, but was afraid to speak. He hoped that, in that moment, his words were as plain as day, laid bare in his eyes.

He was buried deep inside of her, and for a moment he remained still before resting one hand next to Nesta’s head, and with the other, lacing his fingers with hers.

She let him. She took his hand and held on tightly as Cassian began to pull out, only to push back in again in one long fluid motion.

Her breathing was the only sound in the room, the soft gasp she let out like music to ears each time he pulled out and pushed back in. Eventually, her eyes fluttered shut, unable to stay open as he moved inside of her. He took the chance to glance down her body, to watch as they were joined again and again, marveling at how good she felt, how perfectly he fit inside her.

It was like being home.

It was in that moment that he realized, at some point in the past few months, that that was exactly what it had become. This house, their little routine, Nyx. Nesta.

She had become his home.

A family. That’s what they were and it was overwhelming, that fact.

Cassian buried his face in the crook between her head and shoulder, his lips finding that sensitive skin as he thrust into her a bit more roughly than he had before.

Her hand clasped the back of his neck as she cried out, his name tumbling from her lips.

He had never felt this way with anyone, and it had become much more than just sex. It became a desire. Nesta had become desirable, and for much more than just her body.

Yeah, the sex was good.

Amazing.

Incredible.

Ethereal.

But it was more than just his body and hers doing the most intimate of acts.

Their souls were connecting in a way that Cassian had never felt, had never even considered possible.

She was his family.

She was his home.

And Cassian wasn’t even sure she realized it.

Nesta’s fingers dug into the back of his neck, and he picked up his pace.

“Cass, please…”

Her voice was a breathy moan in his ear and he groaned as she wrapped her legs around his waist. The shift in her hips made the angle deeper, allowing him to fill her to the hilt, and her name tumbled from his lips as he thrust into her again and again.

Her fingers dove into his hair, tugging on the strands and he drove his hips home harder.

“Shit,” she moaned. “I’m— I’m about to—”

Nesta didn’t even finish her sentence before she cried out, her release cresting over her like a wave, dragging her under. She tightened around him and Cassian fought his own rising orgasm as her nails dragged down his back, as she clung to him, like he was her only lifeline back to herself.

He couldn’t hold on for long. He had always been insecure about the sounds he made while orgasming, but Nesta seemed to thrive on those little moans, those grunts, coming from his mouth. They were muffled by the skin of her neck as Cassian fell deeper and deeper, meeting Nesta in a state of utter bliss.

He slowed until nothing was left, and stilled, his body still covering hers, his cock buried deep inside.

They remained quiet as they fought to catch their breaths.

As he calmed, Nesta ran one hand lazily up and down Cassian’s back, the other through his hair.

Cassian kissed her neck, softly, before pulling back and meeting her eyes.

They were full of lust, lovedrunk lust, and something that Cassian hoped he was not mistaking for adoration.

He was still breathing heavily, still trying to calm his racing heart, when he realized he’d come inside of her. She’d told him last time that he didn’t need to wear a condom, so he assumed this time was no different.

After he’d finally caught his breath, Cassian said, “I should clean—.”

“Stay with me,” she breathed, interrupting him.

He blinked, wanting to make sure he understood her words. “What?”

“Stay with me,” Nesta repeated, tucking some of his loose, unruly hair behind one of his ears. “Tonight, I… I want you to stay in here. With me.”

Swallowing harshly, Cassian nodded. He didn’t trust his voice, not when it was what he’d been dreaming she’d say, but never in a million years let himself hope that she would.

Nesta nodded as well, smiling softly. “Okay?”

His voice was hoarse and gravely. “Okay.” He couldn’t stop his own smile from growing.

Leaning down, he kissed her again, gently, softly.

He let that kiss convey all the words he was too terrified to say.

#nessian #snacmc lawki #nesta #cassian #fanfic #sjm #fanfiction #modern au

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nightingaelic · 3 years

Note

Not a good idea, maybe, but still... NV Followers' reaction to how the Courier tells the follower that sometimes all their adventures seem like a kind of deathbed dream to them (a bullet in the head after all...)

Just know, anon, that I am strongly resisting the urge to go full Shane Madej and Ryan Bergara with every single one of these reactions.

"Maybe this is all just... me." The courier waved their hand through the scorching air, tracing the shimmering line of the horizon that sang false promises of water. "A mirage. An oasis in the desert that I can't quite reach, but my eyes keep telling me is there if I just walk far enough."

Their hand went to the scar on their forehead. "I don't know. The things I've seen, since Goodsprings... if I told them to half the people in the Mojave, they'd toss me in the same shack as No-bark. HELIOS One? The Burned Man, in the crispy flesh? Jason Bright and his followers? Hell, the Sierra Madre? How do I know I didn't actually bite the dust in that graveyard, and all of this is the work of the bullet Benny put in my noggin?"

Arcade Gannon: "I guess there isn't a very convincing way I can answer that question," Arcade admitted. "But the fact that I know exactly how close you came to dying could be some evidence to the contrary. I doubt you were walking around with much medical knowledge about cranial vulnus sclopetarium prior to encountering it firsthand."

The courier looked somewhat interested, so the researcher continued hesitantly. "Did that doctor who checked you out not explain what happened to your brain? It's honestly a miracle that you're still walking around."

"I might've been a little preoccupied with the shock of being awake," the courier admitted. "Here, show me."

They guided Arcade's hand to the wound site, which he felt gingerly, trying not to awaken any pain. "Okay, close, very close range, left side... trajectory was too high, so it missed the speech center... probably sustained the most damage in the frontal and parietal lobes... well that tracks, that would affect problem-solving skills and spatial relationships..."

"Arcade?"

"Mm-hm?"

The courier grinned. "Just keep talking to me in Latin and I'll stop caring whether I'm dead or not. It sounds nice."

Arcade blushed.

Craig Boone: "Mmm." Boone pondered the thought, but immediately felt the shadow of guilt fall over his shoulders. Had any of his targets felt that way as they lay dying? Had Carla? He tried to shake the feeling off before it reached his face.

The courier, for their part, didn't notice, or at least knew enough to pretend not to notice. "That snake Benny was using a handgun, too, and who knows what caliber," they said, looking off into the distance.

"Low," Boone offered.

"Come again?"

"The bullet," Boone clarified. "It's still in your head. Slow and small caliber, if you're not already dead from it."

"But I could already be dead from it."

"Nah."

The courier looked as though they wanted to probe further, but Boone straightened his sunglasses and walked past them, signaling that the conversation was over. Headshot wounds, hypotheticals, they weren't his strong suit, but he did know one thing: The orders he had followed and the lives he had ended were far too real to be the figment of some Mojave wastelander's imagination.

Lily Bowen: "Come now, dearie, you're giving your imagination too much credit." Lily patted the courier lightly on the shoulder. Well, as lightly as a nightkin could. "Grandma's seen many strange things too, ever since she left the vault behind."

The courier smiled. "Stranger than the ones I've seen? Like what?"

Lily made an ugly face. "I saw many things when working for the Master. Golden geckos in Klamath. Ghosts in Baja. The Master himself, with his brain in the computers and the computers in his brain."

"Eugh." The courier mimicked the face Lily was making. "One of those, huh? Always seemed unsanitary to me."

"Good things too," Lily went on wistfully. "I saw Marcus' first city, when it was big and full of people. Humans, but also super mutants, ghouls. How I would have liked to take Becky and Jimmy there."

Her voice faltered a little, remembering the grandchildren that had been lost, left behind long ago. The courier reached out and took her hand. "I'm here, Lily."

After the memory passed, Lily returned to her smiling self. "You are, pumpkin. We're here together."

Raul Alfonso Tejada: "I know how you feel, boss." Raul sighed. "There are plenty of things in my past that I can't help but question the authenticity of. All I can say is that after a while, you stop asking and just go along for the ride."

"Right." The courier crossed their arms. "I suppose it's not that different a mindset from becoming a ghoul. Time stretching on in front of you, no clear end in sight, no expectation there will ever be one."

"Eh." Raul shrugged. "That might just be a mindset of mine. I stopped worrying about dying a long time ago. Or maybe I was looking for it, but never managed to find it. Either way, time doesn't bother me the way it used to."

"But it still does?"

"Sí. Now I worry more that I'll forget the crazy things I've seen altogether, or that they don't mean anything."

The young courier looked like they weren't quite ready to ponder that possibility. They stood together in silence for a while, watching the horizon's haze.

"Should we keep going?" the courier finally asked, shouldering their pack.

"Desde luego."

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: "Sometimes I wonder the same thing," Cass replied with a nod. "Well, not the exact same thing, but somethin' similar. Plenty of times in my life, I've woken up in someone else's bed or on the floor of a bar and wondered if I actually survived the fight I was in the night before, or if I finally drank enough to make my heart stop. It's a strange feeling, but then someone douses me in water or slaps me too hard on the ass and the pain of the wakin' world creeps back in, little by little."

"Do you slap them back?" the courier joked, chuckling.

"Them and the world," Cass confirmed. "I always figured if I'd actually died in my sleep, why bother makin' up some desert full of sadness and sunburns to fill my time? Had enough of that in life, so I can't see my mind keepin' it around. Much rather conjure up a house by the beach somewhere, with a basement full of caps and enough booze to last me 'til the bombs fall again."

The courier eyed her mischievously. "Maybe you're in hell."

Cass held her canteen up. "Well then. To bein' stuck in hell with a true friend."

She drank, long and deep, and the courier retrieved their canteen to do the same.

Veronica Santangelo: "Oh, Six." Veronica's face filled with sympathy. "Is that really what you think about, when you're trying to sleep at night in the casino and Cass is snoring in the bed next to you?"

The courier blinked. "Cass snores?"

"How have you not noticed?" Veronica pulled her power fist off and flexed her fingers, re-stimulating her circulation as best she could. "Arcade said he wanted to trade with me, after Boone had his second night terror incident, but he changed his mind again after one night of her racket. At this point, I'm used to it. When she's not around, I have trouble sleeping, can you believe that? Brotherhood bunks really prepared me for the Lucky 38."

"No, I hadn't noticed." The courier sat down on a nearby rock and stretched their legs out. "I guess I haven't been there much, lately."

Veronica sat down next to them. "You know, the more often you're gone having adventures around the desert, the more crazy things you're going to see. People who rest on their laurels and stick to the Strip don't lie awake wondering if they actually died back when they choked on those buffalo gourd seeds at The Gourmand."

"Touché."

ED-E: The eyebot let out a few beeps of disagreement and rolled from side to side in mid-air, indicating as best it could that in its experience, being shot in the dome was a good method for scrambling circuitry but was actually terrible for fusing new connections. The courier laughed and reached out to rub the robot's side. "Thanks, buddy. Maybe I'm right, or maybe reality is just a weird place."

ED-E beeped its satisfaction and bounced forward as if chasing the mirage. The courier trailed after the eyebot, their giggles blowing out with the wind into the desert for all to hear.

Rex: The old cyberdog whined and licked its companion's hand, uncertain what they were asking. Any dreams the canine had were good ones, long runs over grassy plains and prey that was always a hair too slow. Life with the courier was good too, but full of many more dangers than a savannah dotted with rabbits and deer. The courier scratched the dog on his ruff affectionately, before continuing over the hot sand toward their destination. Rex followed behind, happy and panting.

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itsjustmyfantasyroom · 3 years

Text

Grey Ice Pack.

Massive shout out to my Bishop Beta @beccabarba as always. Thank you xx

*Grey Leather*

*Grey Uniform*

*Grey Dress*

*Grey Vase*

*Grey Blanket*

*Grey Jeans*

*Grey Socks*

*Grey Boxes*

*Grey Balloons*

*Grey Singlet*

*Grey Cocktails*

*Grey Keys*

*Grey Rope*

*Grey Boxing Gloves*

Warnings: Talks of an injury and blood, swearing and smut.

WC: 1528

Enjoy x

Mostly everything had gone back to normal, you were back at work full time, not really having much to fear and Bishop was back in the full swing of club stuff. You were still very much out of the circle as far as knowing what was going on with the Mayan’s, but you were fine with that as long as you knew if your life was in danger for whatever reason, you were fine with not knowing anything else.

You knew he wasn’t going to be home for dinner, he had messaged just as you finished your shift saying he was still dealing with club stuff and Rosa had gone back to her place not long after you had dinner together. You were in the kitchen finishing up the dishes, putting away left overs and making a plate for Bishop for when he got home to heat up, when you heard the front door slam shut and muttered swearing. Your heart skipped a beat, going to grab the baseball bat from next to the fridge as you walked to the kitchen door poking your head out of it and your eyes blew open at the sight of Bishop in front of you,

“Oh my god, babe. Are you ok?”

You rushed down the hall to Bishop, his shirt covered in blood, his right eye red and puffy, his shirt arm sliced showing a large bleeding gash across it. Your hands went to his shoulders trying to asses if you needed to take him to hospital as he shook his head back no before he fell forward onto your chest and you guided him into the bathroom. You pushed the toilet seat down and sat him on it. You rushed out grabbing towels and your first aid kit from the linen cupboard.

You ran back into the bathroom, Bishop leaning his elbows on his knees and his brows frowned. You dropped everything on the floor and dropped to your knees in front of him, pushing off his vest and unbuttoning his shirt slowly, pushing it off one arm and then slowly taking if off his injured arm,

“Fucking Galindo’s men were at the shelter, looking into shit that doesn’t involve them” he muttered through clenched teeth. You let out a deep breath shaking your head. Bishops hand came up to your cheek while you looked at the gash on his arm “Looks worse than it is, baby” he brushed your cheek with his thumb and you pouted your lips at him when you knelt up looking at his swollen eye tisking at the red and purple swelled skin around it,

“Have a quick shower, try not to get soap or too much water on it, then go to the coach”

You walked into the lounge area after you heard Bishop shut off the shower and come out. You carried a beer in one hand, your first aid kit and a grey ice pack in the other sitting it all on the coffee table. You turned to face him on the coach with just a towel around his waist and head leaning back on it with still wet hair. You stood between his spread legs and ran your hand down his chest before sitting the ice pack on his eye. You then grabbed the first aid kit opening it and sitting it on the coach next to him and started to pull everything out you needed to patch up his arm. You bandaged it up pulling hisses and painful looks on his face as you went,

“Sorry babe, it’s not deep thankfully, so no stiches. I’ll check it in the morning and re dress it, but first sign of infection and we go to the doctor, no arguing” you said sternly.

“Thank you, baby. You’re so good to me” Bishop’s other hand came up to run up your arm as you stood up.

You lent down closer to his face pulling the ice pack off his eye looking over it when you felt his hand come up to the back of your thigh and started to slip up your skin under your oversized t shirt, coming up to grope your ass cheek over your panties,

“I have something else I need you to take care of too” Bishop purred.

His other hand grabbed your other and pulled it between the gap of his towel resting it on his hardening cock. You wrapped your hand around him and started to stroke up and down, Bishop’s hand coming off from your behind and pulled your elbow so you could move to sit on his lap.

You straddled his lap, his head still leaning back and you kissed along his bearded jaw, down and around his neck. His hand of his good arm went up under your shirt and up to your breast’s squeezing them both, one at a time and playing with your nipples. You pulled on the towel and it dropped off him, your hand still working on him, his pre cum covering it. Bishop brought his hand out of your shirt and brought it up to the back of your head groaning as you now sucked on his nipple.

You slowly started to make your way down his body, eventually landing on your knees between his legs, Bishop’s hand still on the back of your head. You kissed down from his belly button and then the tip of his long red weeping cock, your lips parting and you sunk down on him, hitting the back of your throat, his groan loud leaving from his lips. You rose back up to his tip grazing your teeth lightly up over him, licking around his tip and sinking back down again relaxing your throat.

His thick curled hair tickled your nose, you reached up cradling his balls giving them a light squeeze and Bishop bucked up into your mouth. You made your way back up to his tip and pulled off with a slight pop, your hand replacing your mouth, twisting your wrist every so often and you lent down even more lifting his balls into your mouth sucking on them gently, one at a time,

“Fuck” he hissed “Baby, so amazing to me. Such a good girl looking after me like you do” he bucked up again into your hand and you felt his thighs tense.

You didn’t take your mouth and hand away from him and with your free hand you blindly reached over and grabbed a pillow, reaching down putting it between your legs. You had been holding off your own need to cum, but you couldn’t push it away any longer, the noses that Bishop was making turning you on even more. You squeezed your legs together and started to rock your hips over the pillow to get the relief you needed and you took his long length back in your mouth, sinking down to his base.

Bishop’s hand on the back of your head pushed you down gently, holding your head there so he could roll his hips into your mouth. You rocked your hips over the pillow in time with Bishop’s thrusts into your mouth. You could feel your pleasure starting to wash over you, one hand going back to Bishop’s balls and your other grabbing onto you breast squeezing it over your t shirt. You could feel your saliva running out of the corners of your mouth and tears running down your cheeks.

Bishop’s hand screwed into your hair, tugging it slightly and you felt his hot salty relief running down the back of your throat while he groaned your name and swear words at the same time, you hollowed your cheeks so none of his release escaped your mouth and sucked him clean rising up off him with a pop while you still rolled your hips over the pillow faster. You were so wrapped up in the feeling filling you, that you hadn’t even noticed Bishop leaning down till he pulled the pillow from between your legs. You whined slightly till you felt his good hand slip into your panties, three fingers pushed into you and his thumb rolled your clit,

“Come on baby, you think I wouldn’t look after you too?”

“Sorry” you panted out, your core clenching around his fingers and you rocked your hips against them.

“It’s ok baby, cum for me”

Your hands rested on his shoulders, your forehead landing on his chin and your mouth dropped open, his name flowing from it as you came on his fingers. Bishop pulled away from you and you fell back on your hunches to try and catch your breath, Bishop wiping his fingers clean on the towel,

“You feel, ok?” you took in a deep breath to settle your breathing, smiling up at him.

Bishop smiled down at you, reaching for your hand and pulling you up to sit on the couch next to him, kissing you quietly and then rubbing his thumb over your cheek,

“Never better when I have you looking after me like you do. I love you”

“I love you babe; I’ll do anything for you”

Tags: @beccabarba @alwaysachorusgirl @withmyteeth @lovebishoplosamiguelgalindo @frattsparty

#bishop losa #bishop losa x you #bishop losa x reader #bishop losa smut #obishop losa #obispo losa #mayans mc #mayans fanfic #mayans smut #mayansmc

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wavesmp3 · 3 years

Text

[ksw] clouds

sunwoo x reader

wc. 5k warnings: medical inaccuracies, death, illness, hospitals, overall just a pretty heavy piece genre can only be described as an absolute mess inspired mainly by san junipero but also slightly by charlie kaufman and wong kar wai

a/n: this is supposed to be told nonlinearly but like the creation of it was very messy so i have no clue if it actually worked, so good luck trying to make this piece make sense of this :)

act iii. scene iii.

Sunwoo sits and watches the sun shift from pink and blue to an impossible shade of green. And it’s then he knows that without a doubt Clara has ruined the color green for him. Because instead of marveling at the color of the sky, Sunwoo is reminded of the doors in her apartment building.

“Thought I might find you here.” The voice of a stranger who Sunwoo loved once upon a time says behind him. He tries like hell not to turn around. Not to lean back towards the voice and wait for your hand on his shoulder or your shin knocking familiarly against his back. He focuses on the waves crashing below instead. The roar of the water beneath him is deafening, but only if you let it be. He does, and he almost forgets that you’re behind him.

“Where’d you go?” You ask, now sitting next to him, tugging at the long grass.

“I’m right here.”

“And what about in there?” You bring a finger up and poke at the side of his forehead.

He turns to you, facing you in full. He takes in your features like it’s the first time all over again. And, oh, he wishes he knew before how many firsts you already had together. This is just another. This is just the first time he’s seen you in the past six months and remembered the thousands of times he’s seen your face before.

He studied your cheeks. The one he now recalls running the back of his palm over after you left for the Cloud.

He memorizes, for the millionth time, your eyes. He used to swear they were darker than they are, but then he saw them in the sun. He was dying back then; then he saw your eyes and you saved him. Just like that.

Mr. Choi was right of course. As he always must be. You and him are like an old married couple. Not like. You are. Almost were.

“I had lunch with Mr. Choi today.” He tells you.

You squint at him. “I know. It’s Thursday.” You pull out a piece of the grass. “What’d he make?”

“Ramen.”

“Was it good?”

“It was okay.”

“Too spicy?”

Suwnoo answers with a sigh, looking away from you and back towards the water. The deafening waves crash against the cliffside. “I know you looked at your file.” He finally says. You stop pulling at the grass. You still. “Mr. Choi told me.”

After he says it, there’s a silence that isn’t actually silent at all. The waves rage below his feet. The seagulls are there too, beneath, above, somewhere, everywhere. And then, of course, there’s you and Sunwoo, trying to be silent over the static in your heads and the machines you’re hooked up to in a universe far far away.

“Did he tell you about my file?”

He looks at you again. “No.”

“Oh.” You look away, brows furrowed, lick your lips, and then turn back to him. “So why are you upset?”

“After he told me, I went and I…”

“You didn’t.”

“I looked at mine.”

There’s another silence, except that this time it really is quiet. Sunwoo read once whilst in a rabbit hole of medical research that true silence only happens in a vacuum, where there is no medium for sound waves to travel through. This must be that. This place, the files, Mr. Choi and Mr. Chan, Clara and her apartment building full of green doors--it’s a vacuum. And they stick people in it then call it the Cloud. They call it extra time. But it isn’t. It’s nothing and he’s stuck in the middle of it. So Sunwo stares at you, straight through the vacuum of time and space you’re both lost in, waits for you to say something, and then waits for himself to hear it.

“You looked?” You finally say, voice folding in on itself.

“Yes.” Sunwoo’s own voice is barely there. You must be reading his lips which you’ve always been good at anyways.

“So you know now?”

“I always knew, and now, I remember.”

act i. scene iv.

There’s been an accident.

That’s what they say when the sun falls out of the sky and the world starts spinning in the wrong direction. It’s how they show up at Sunwoo’s door painted in shades of blue and red, with authority in their arms and hands on their hips. How they prepare him for the looming moment where they rip past his skin, blood, bone to shoot a gun straight at his heart. I’m so sorry for your loss, they say leaving him with a bullet lodged somewhere between his left and right atrium.

And those are the four words that play over and over and over in Sunwoo’s head as he gets to the hospital. Those are the words that crawl inside his open chest and turn him blue and black with infection. There’s been an accident, he remembers, staring at the extraordinary measures taken to keep your heart beating and lungs beating. This is it. Except that the accident isn’t that you’re dying, but that you’re dying. It’s always supposed to have been him. He’s supposed to be the one stuffed with tubes and hooked up to monitors, the one whose life is hanging on by a thread, and you’re supposed to be the one that saves him. It all feels like a play that’s gone horribly wrong because everyone switched parts after intermission without telling him. At what point did you steal the role of dying protagonist from him?

We did everything we could, a stranger in a white coat says. Except that it’s not some stranger, it’s your colleague and co-worker because this is the hospital you work at and the hospital Sunwoo met you in. There was too much damage to the brain, they explain as the image of their tear-stricken face goes from your friend during intern year to the doctor who operated on you as your brain went dead.

“We have two options, right?” Sunwoo is far too familiar with surgery and all this. He knows from his hospital days what’s supposed to happen next. But apparently, things have changed since then.

“Actually, there’s a third option.”

Sunwoo doesn’t waste a second. He jumps out of the chair stained red from his bleeding heart and asks: “What is it?”

“We can upload them.”

act iii. scene ii.

In fifty days of living in the cloud, Sunwoo has learned all about the people that he shares a building with. There’s Mr. Chan who lives behind a vomit green on the same floor as him and who hasn’t left his room since last January. There’s also Mr. Choi, who lives behind the emerald door and invites Suwoo over for lunch every Thursday. Clara lives upstairs, where the walls are painted in various shades of green--olive, seaweed, moss, hunter, shamrock, sage, and others that Sunwoo tries not to think too deeply about. He’s only met Clara once in the past fifty days and has no particular wish to see her again. He hadn’t expected her to be a kid. Cancer, you told him after their introduction in the lobby, poor girl was only seven. As said before, Sunwoo tries not to think about it.

And then of course there’s you behind the forest green door who has been slowly showing him all the good places. There’s the beach where you spent the day making seashell necklaces. The cafe which serves its tea too sweet for him, but sweet enough to be considered your favorite. Sunwoo just gets the chocolate bread. You took him downtown. To a club. The tallest building. And to midtown where the amusement park is.

But his favorite place you’ve taken him so far is the cliffside above the beach, where the waves crash against the rocks in a way that can only be described as violent. That day you and him laid in the grass and stared at the clouds with your heads dangling just over the edge and water spraying the backs of your necks. That day you turned to him and told him you’re sorry. For what, he asked. I’m so sorry you’re sick, you said, but it’s nice to have you around here. I think in a sense, we’ve both been waiting for this. Then, you smiled and stole all of the blood from his body. So yeah, that day, that place--it’s his favorite.

Today, you take him on a hike up a mountain.

“Do you believe in an afterlife?” You ask him after having spent thirty minutes silently staring at the view from the best peak.

“One after this?”

“Yeah. I guess. Although, I’m not so convinced this counts.”

“I don’t know.” Sunwoo shrugs. “Maybe.”

“Do you think we’d be able to be with our loved ones in it?”

His chest lurches. “If there is one, yes.”

“Do you think it’ll be different than this?”

Sunwoo turns to you finally. “Why are you asking about this?”

You shake your head. “Nevermind. It’s a stupid question.”

He turns back towards the view. From here, he can make out Clara’s building. He thinks about her, about Mr. Choi and Mr. Chan, who he recently found out were once married but who haven’t spoken since Mr. Chan read his file in January, and he thinks about you and about him.

“I think,” Sunwoo says, loud enough so that you can hear after wandering a little bit away from him, “that whatever the afterlife is, if it does exist, it’ll be worth it.”

You turn to him, but don’t make any move to come near him again. “And if it doesn’t exist?”

“Then life will have been worth it.”

The corner of your lip lifts. “I like that.”

Sunwoo only nods at the sentiment, and after a long while, he builds enough courage to ask, “you’ve been here a really long time, haven’t you?”

“Time doesn't work as linearly in the cloud as it does in the real world. Sometimes it feels like I got here and then you arrived the very next day.” You turn back towards the view and exhale heavily.

“But yes. I’ve been here for an eternity.”

act ii. scene i.

Before he actually sees you, Sunwoo feels you. Not you, in particular, but something in the distance, a presence in the corner of the room and a pair of eyes watching him from somewhere far away.

The scariest part is how much the feeling doesn’t actually scare him.

Two days after that, he starts to see you in the flesh. He tells himself that his mind is playing tricks on him, that the person he saw in the produce aisle wasn’t actually you at all and was just a stranger with the same hair.

He doesn’t go straight home from the store that day. Instead, he stops by the hospital and checks in on you, but even that doesn’t do anything about the fact that he sees a shadow of you behind the bed.

The day after that, you speak to him. Standing in the middle of his kitchen in broad daylight, you speak, you say hello, and the first thing Sunwoo thinks is that he’s dead.

You aren’t, you reply. You’re a zombie, he reasons, here for my brain. I’m not. A ghost. No. Are you, here Sunwoo falters, fear flooding out of his body to make room for the briefest blotch of hope that’s crushed almost immediately by you saying: I’m not alive, Sunwoo. You saw me in the hospital yesterday.

“So then,” he swallows, “what are you?”

I’m here. You look at him, stare at his face and without a sliver of doubt say, I’m here for you.

Sunwoo knows it’s impossible. You can’t be here. You can’t. And yet, you are.

Three years ago Sunwoo was told he had three months left to live, and he still remembers how impossibly you saved him from the brink of death. He remembers how impossible things happen all the time, and how impossibly possible it is that this is one of them. He steps towards you, touches your face, and feels the real, impossible thing against his hand.

“You’re here.”

On the fifth day of your haunting, Sunwoo finally has the sense to ask why.

Why what?

“Why are you here?”

I’m here for you.

“Stop saying that.”

But I am, you tell him. You asked, and that’s the answer. I’m a doctor, Sunwoo. I’m here for you.

Then, finally, he hears what you’ve been saying for the past five days. You’re here for him.

And the thing about doctors is that they’re there for you when you need them.

“I’m sick.”

Yes, you answer quietly, although it wasn’t a question.

“Again.”

I’m so sorry.

“You’re a hallucination, aren’t you?” Sunwoo’s shocked by how sad that makes him, how disappointing it is. “I’ve been hallucinating.”

Find me in the Cloud, Sunwoo. There’s something I want to say.

You’re gone by the time he gets to the hospital.

act iii. scene i.

Sunwoo stares at the hall of green doors, eyes darting from door to door in an attempt to stare down the shades until they confess which one of them is tea green.

“Clara, the landlord, likes colors.” A voice says from behind him. “Every couple of months she repaints all of the doors in different shades of the same one. Before the green, it was yellow.”

Sunwoo turns around to face you. When your eyes find him, they go blank for the smallest of moments. You give him a look that goes right through him, turning him inside out like you’ve seen the underside of his skin. It irks him.

“I’m Sunwoo. I’m new.”

You gulp. “You’re here.” He doesn’t know what to make of the statement. Do all people in the cloud act like this? “Why?”

Sunwoo nods, maybe you’re not so weird as much as you just have a weird way of posing questions. “I was told I’m sick.”

“I’m sorry.” You say, frowning like you actually might feel back for him.

“Have you been here a while then?” You nod. “Can I ask how long?” You shake your head. Sunwoo doesn’t think too much about it. Instead, he returns your earlier question “Why are you here?”

“Brain dead.”

“I’m sorry.”

You ignore it and point to a door down the hall. “I’m forest green. You?”

“Tea green. But I can’t find-”

You tap the door in front of him. “This one, genius.”

“Oh.” He laughs awkwardly. “Thanks.”

Your mouth parts as if to say something, and your face goes blank again. He feels his skin turning itself inside out because of it. “Have you read your file yet?”

He shakes his head. “I just got here.”

You inhale, softening, and mutter an ‘okay’. You continue down the hall towards your door. Sunwoo is stuck in place. “I can show you around here, if you like. Take you to all the cool places.”

Sunwoo takes you up on it.

A forest green door slams shut down the hallway.

act i. scene ii.

“Thank you for taking me out of the hospital.” Sunwoo says, exhaling. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve been to a park like this.”

And it’s true, he really can’t. He’s been sick for so long now, and has been through a multitude of treatment plans and too many surgeries. When you’re sick and have 9 surgeons turn you down after asking them to save your life, you forget the joy of being outside and feeling the sun on your skin. You were the first doctor to agree to the surgery. You’re the only doctor to have ever treated Sunwoo like he wasn’t dying, like he was actually going to live.

“You don’t have to thank me. This is good for me too.” You say, head resting against the park bench and eyes closed.

Sunwoo inhales, taking in the park with all his senses. A visceral sort of thing you learn to do as often as possible when you’ve been as close to death as frequently as he has. He feels the wood beneath his body and the grass beneath his feet. He feels the light on his skin and the wind pushing against his arms and nose. He listens to the kids screaming at the playground at the bottom of the hill and to the dogs barking within the dog park beside it. He takes all this in, relishes in it for the last time as a dying person.

You sigh. “One more surgery.”

“And then I’ll be done with this sickness.”

You smile. He pretends not to see. “And then you’ll be done.”

“Thank you for saving my life.”

“Don’t do that.”

“No. Seriously.”

You smile again, this time at him. Sunwoo doesn’t have to pretend not to see. “I haven’t finished saving it yet.”

He leans back against the bench and closes his eyes. “But you will.”

You tap on your coffee cup. “Honestly though, you did more work than me.” Sunwoo frowns while you take a sip. “The other nine doctors you called are good doctors, and they made the same judgement call I would have made for any other patient. No sane doctor would have agreed to treat you. But you were the reason I said yes. You had such faith that you were going to live and so much faith that I could do it that I believed you. I might be the one doing the technical saving, but you, Sunwoo, you’re the one who convinced me to do it. You saved yourself.”

He stares at you. The light hits your eyes like it’s finding a way to break through them. In truth, before Sunwoo got sick, he didn’t think he was scared of death, but he is. He’s terrified of it. Sunwoo realized it two weeks after his diagnosis and the day after he was wrongly told he only had three more months left to live. But now, for the first time since he was diagnosed, he doesn't feel so afraid of it. Despite how far he’s come and how close he is to beating this fucking illness, while staring at the light woven through your eyes, Sunwoo thinks he could live with himself if he dropped dead tonight.

That thought alone, is almost as terrifying as death used to be.

act iii. scene v.

“I saw your ghost, you know.” It’s the first thing Sunwoo has said to you in over two weeks. “It wasn’t actually you though, was it?” You don’t even bother looking up from your cup of tea. Through the silence, Sunwoo orders a coffee.

“I didn’t know that.” The coffee turns lukewarm. “It wasn’t me.” You push an uneaten half of chocolate bread towards him. “It’s in your brain this time. Symptoms can include hallucinations.”

“Think you can still save me?” You can’t. If you know that much, you know he’s out of medical miracles, and that this time, he really won’t survive it. But it’s a joke. And you laugh at it.

“Definitely not. I never really liked neurosurgery.”

And all at once, he’s painfully aware of your friend somewhere in the real world that does like it but watched anyways as your brain died before her, split wide open.

“Anyways, how do you know all of this?” But what Sunwoo really wants to say is brains are killer. Literally. Figuratively.

“I’ve known since we...“ you hesitate, mouth stuck halfway through a word he can’t place. “After last time, I read your chart and looked at your scans.” Sunwoo nods. He expected as much. He doesn’t ask how you got them. “I’m sorry you're sick again.” You say to him quietly. “I’m sorry you’re dying.”

“I’m sorry you’re dead.” As soon as the words have left his mouth, he regrets them. Because you aren’t. And he knows you too well to think you’d look past the technicality.

You scoff, shake your head slightly, and with a spiteful smile say, “Can I say it?”

Sunwoo only sighs. “Let’s start over instead.”

You nod. He pushes the chocolate bread back.

act iii. scene iv.

Mr. Choi was the one to recommend that Sunwoo give you and himself space. It’s been a month since you and him last spoke, since that moment hovering above the waves after he read his file and after he found out you read yours. He misses you, and has been for so long now. Mr. Choi was wrong. Sunwoo’s standing outside your forest green door to prove it.

You open the door before he can knock. There’s no shock in your voice when you say his name, like you’ve been waiting for this day, expecting it.

He looks behind you, at your apartment in Clara’s building that looks just like your apartment in the real world. The same one he cleaned out after you died, still filled with things he gave to your family or donated or took back to his place. He wants to crumble just looking at it again. “Can I come in?”

“It’s only been a month.”

And he knows what you mean by it. Three months is the recommended time off after reading one’s file. To reacclimate, they say, to process. But the insinuation that Sunwoo was supposed to go three months without seeing you makes him feel sick. The insinuation that after a year of being without you in the real world he was supposed to be without you here too, enrages him. Then he remembers how long you’ve been here, and how long you’ve been doing this and feels slightly murderous.

All he says is: “It’s been a lot longer than that for you.”

Your lip twitches. You lock and unlock the open forest green door five times before saying, “Are you sure?”

He nods. You let him in.

Sunwoo used to imagine what it would be like to meet you again in the Cloud one day. He imagined tears and hugs and kisses. He imagined i love you’s and i hate you’s and i miss you. He imagined the scenario more times than can possibly be considered healthy. But he imagined something. He was waiting for the day. Waiting for this day. But this moment, sitting at your round wood table while you boil water for tea, is nothing like the million different ways he imagined seeing you again.

And as you set down two mismatched mugs and take the seat across from him, he doesn’t even try to create one of them. “How long has it been since you read your file?”

You watch the steam rise from your tea for a long moment, then stand, grab the sugar and pour a spoonful of it into your tea. You take another spoonful and look at him expectantly. “Want some?” He nods, and you pour the sugar into his. You stir the tea then taste, then cringe, then add more sugar and then ask if he wants it. He refuses. You stir again. Sunwoo watches the whirlpool and waits the eternity it takes you to say: “I read it on my first day.”

You put the sugar away, satisfied with the tea’s sweetness while Sunwoo marvels at how long you’ve known and how silently you’ve been carrying the knowledge of you and him since he came. And that knowledge is what makes him finally remember one of the reasons he came. “Is there something you want to tell me?” You look up at him when he asks it, exhaling like you’ve been wanting to bring it up for so long now, which Sunwoo guesses isn’t as much of a simile as he thinks it is.

“Yes, actually. I…” you hesitate, flicking the mug as if the right words will come hopping out of the tea. Sunwoo watches for it. “I’ve just been here for a long time now, Sunwoo.”

“Two years isn’t that long.”

“Time doesn’t work the same here as it does down there.” You tell him tiredly. “It’s been decades.”

He doesn’t say anything.

“In the beginning, I didn’t mind the waiting. I knew you were on your way, but I just,” you hesitate, “I didn’t think it’d take so long for you to come back to me.”

Sunwoo covers your hand with his. “I’m sorry.” You twist your palm into it, squeeze, then pull your hand away. Sunwoo swallows. “I came as fast as I could.”

“I know. I waited.”

“Do you regret it?” Sunwoo’s terrified of what the answer might be.

You don’t give it. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then?”

“I’ve been here for so long, and,” your head drops, voice breaking under the weight it carries, “it’s been so lonely.”

“But I’m here now.” Sunwoo says, leaning forward against the table. “You aren’t alone anymore.”

“I know you’re here. I know, and I thought that would fix it, but it didn’t. Seeing you in the hall that day was so bittersweet, because you were here but that also meant you were somewhere else dying. Because you were here and I still felt lonely.” You stop, chugg the remaining bits of your tea, and then wipe your cheeks. “Do you get what I’m saying?”

“No.” But it’s a lie. He does get it. He knows all about loneliness and the way it creeps inside, so slyly. The way it starts small and then grows, feeding on negligence, until it's too big for your body. He knows how it sits inside you, for all its enormity, and spills into everything. He knows how it lingers. How it has nothing to do with people or lack of them and everything to do with grief. Sunwoo knows all about loneliness. The day he read his file he felt a dam of it burst open within him.

“I’m saying that in the real world I saved you, and now it’s your turn to save me.” You gulp. “I’m saying that I want you to unplug me.”

It takes a moment for Sunwoo to even register what you’ve said, but when he does remember the life support that’s keeping your body alive somewhere in a universe far away, he doesn’t say anything. He just stands and walks out of your apartment.

act i. scene iii.

“Doctor, please present.” The attending announces, stepping into Sunwoo’s room for rounds.

“Mr. Kim,” a resident starts, flipping open his chart, “was diagnosed 14 months ago and has gone through several different treatment plans. When he came to us, the illness had spread and was deemed inoperable and untreatable by several other physicians. Our treatment plan was aggressive and grueling but ultimately, effective. Sunwoo is 20 days post op from his third and final surgery. The surgery went extremely well with no complications and his vitals were excellent. He has been a model patient all throughout recovery, and according to our latest scans, he is also now illness free…”

Sunwoo doesn’t even bother listening to the rest.

“So, now that I’m no longer a patient, if I ask you out on a date, will you actually say yes?”

“Well,” you say, signing his discharge papers, “only one way to know.”

“What is it?”

You look up at him, smiling. “Ask me again.”

He does.

You say yes.

act iii. scene v. take ii.

“I saw your ghost.” The first thing Sunwoo says after the last failed attempt.

You look up from your tea. “It wasn’t me.”

“I know.” Sunwoo orders another coffee. “But the hallucination was how I knew I was sick again. It made me feel like you were trying to warn me, like you were up here somewhere caring from a distance. Right after I pieced it all together you told me to find you here and that there was something you wanted to say.” The coffee turns lukewarm again. Sunwoo can’t bring himself to say it. You sigh and push the same piece of chocolate bread back towards him. This time, he takes a bite from it. And with a mouthful of chocolate bread, he cries, “I just got you back, and now you want to leave all over again.”

You frown. “I didn’t want to leave the first time, and it’s different now.”

“How?”

“I want to go. Isn’t that worth something?”

“And what about what I want?”

“Oh, Sunwoo,” you say, “I’m sorry you’re sick. The hallucination was you and your head, but for what it’s worth, I have been up here caring from a distance. I still…” you don’t need to say the words. He knows. He never had to doubt it. “I never stopped.”

“I’ve been thinking about what you asked of me.” Sunwoo tells you. He made the decision last week but today, right now, with your confession still falling through the air, is the first time he’s had the stomach to swallow it. “And I’ll do it. I will. I just need some time. You’ve had so long and in comparison I’ve had nothing.”

“Okay.” You say simply.

“How long can you give me?”

You smile. “You know I’d give you an eternity if you asked for it.”

“I’m scared.” Sunwoo confesses then. “I know it’s what you want, but selfishly, I don’t want to let you again. I don’t know if I’m a big enough person to do it.”

“I do.” You say to him, leaning forward against the table and looking straight through him. “I know because I was your doctor. I have cut inside your body, seen all your organs, and during surgery two, I held your heart in my hands. I felt it beating. So I know exactly how big it is, and I know it’s big enough for this”

Sunwoo feels the heart you worked so hard to repair bursting inside of him.

“God. Why’d you have to read your file so soon?”

You laugh. “I missed you. I couldn’t help it.”

And just like that, you’ve stolen the entire concept of fear from him.

“I’m ready.”

“What?”

He looks at you and feels the loneliness slither away.

“Ask me again.”

#sunwoo x reader #sunwoo scenarios #sunwoo imagines #sunwoo fanfic #the boyz scenarios #the boyz fanfic #sunwoo fluff #sunwoo angst #mine #*clouds

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ginwhitlock · 3 years

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summary: human!JASPER/ human!BELLA. Bella is called to deliver day supplies to a very tired and mostly lost 1st Regiment Calvary, headed by no other than Major Jasper Whitlock. What will the two do once left alone to go over maps of the Tennessee hills?

fic type: oneshot, SMUT 18+

warnings: is set in the civil war, which means Jasper is a soldier in the confederacy literally only because he’s from Texas I promise, it would’ve been weird to make him union and apart of the Texas Calvary as that wasnt a union regiment, I do not support the confederacy or any of its beliefs, its just part of his backstory and this fic is centered directly in his human life (the confederacy itself is not mentioned in detail, it is just alluded to the fact). This is a smut fic but not hardcore in anyway so be warned. Oh also I made Bella and Emmett siblings. Of course.

She almost broke his nose kissing him.

She almost shattered bone and cartilage clicking their teeth together, enamel scraping enamel.

She almost caved in the center of his face so she could lick the insides of his molars, separate his jaws to find the pit of his throat, dangle her self righteousness by his uvula.

And to think she almost didn’t go out that morning.

Isabella Marie was the kind of pretty you didn’t see right away. The layers of fine muscle and fragile skin hiding the richness of her blood-red cheeks, crisp even in the horrible heat of August. And with that heat came hot headed Calvary men with unlined coat pockets and a hunger for pretty little girls.

She met Major Whitlock three miles outside of town, the local preacher sending her out to their camp with as many baskets as her daddy’s two mules could hold on their hips. She was flushed, the slot of her breastbone slick with afternoon sweat— her riding boots did nothing but slosh around with her pale feet inside, leather no match for Tennessee mountain hidin weather.

Maybe she should’ve dropped ice down her shift. Maybe she should’ve played dead and waited for God to put her on her ass.

The thin brunette was graced with the presence of an even skinner red head the moment Stubborn Ass’s (as she affectionally called her steed in private) hooves entered the temporary camp. The mans hair fell limply in front of his eyes which were slightly sunken, the blue of his irises molting into a starved shade of dust. His lips were worse. Once pink and slightly plump, now skinny and cracked with the less than dusty air.

“Is this the 1st Regiment Calvary? From Texas?” Her voice was strained and feverish, salt dripping off her Cupid’s bow.

The man nodded and offered a hand, “Names Sargent Henry Arquette. Nice to see you Miss, the boys haven’t been able to get any supplies up here for days,” Bella grasped his hand tightly, afraid her unskilled balance would come into play, and forced her weight down to the ground ungracefully, “you’re the sheriffs daughter, right miss?” His smile seemed correct handing off his skinny face, his teeth crooked and off centered, but sweet. She quirked her lip in return.

“Yes Sargent, I seem to be your supply wagon today. There’s more back in town but I was told you wouldn’t be in for a day or so.” Flushed and overdressed, that’s how she felt. Every second.

Henry took in the view of the well fed half breeds and gestured off handedly, something she would come to learn was an action he didn’t even notice he performed. “Day. Days. Who knows until we ration it. These trails are less trails and more raccoon paths. I’m just waiting to see why the hell we’ve been sent so far east to begin with.” He had no recognition what was proper to say in front of the young lady at his side, the year had been sucked dry of any feminine… life, to say lightly. A piece of his brain nudged him for speaking so plainly, but Bella never once looked offended and twitched her head in both sympathy and understanding. She had been raised in these hills. She knew their damnation like the back of her hand. Maybe even the back of her skull.

“I’ve heard about raids up in McMinnville. Bases and such lining up and down the mountain. My brother’s part of the 16th Regiment Calvary up there actually, you know. Things are heating up in our little slice of the world.” The little thing spoke like a sparrow, her nose pointed and soft, the bottom of her front teeth pillowing into her bottom lip. At the age of seventeen she seemed somehow both grounded and unsure.

The south was ripping itself apart. And she— and the Sargent, knew it.

Bella could see the redhead start to comment on her brothers hand me down gossip when a giant of a man— boy? Man? Definitely man, by the looks of his muscled shoulders and high jaw, the darkened cast shifting just under the skin of his cheeks, the low dip of a scar just below his brow— a brow which furrowed, twisted, and arched back up into his tanned forehead when he noticed the mules waiting restlessly, tails swinging behind a girl in a kinder man's idea of a dress and interrupted the lower soldiers train of thought.

“You must be Miss Isabella McCarty. I spoke to your father when we arrived last night.” Clipped and forward were his words, his hand outstretched in front of him, decorated in mis-matched freckles and calluses she could feel pressing into the column of her throat as she placed her small palm in his. “Major Jasper Whitlock, at your assistance.”

No smile graced his face but by God she would witness his lips stretch over his teeth if it was the last thing she ever did.

Still with her hand in his she whispered “You can call me Bella. Or Bella Marie. Or Isabella Marie oh or my mother calls me Belle or sometimes when my father is upset with me he calls me Marie McCarty like my grandmother used to and um..” her tongue had to have swelled to the size of a watermelon in the three seconds it took to look him in the eyes— the swamp green eyes in fact. Eyes the color of duckweed and marigold stems and whatever leaves would stick to the blackberries in the spring.

He laughed. And it sounded like a white flag waving in her insides. Back and forth. Back and forth.

Maybe the preacher was a righteous man after all.

“I like Isabella Marie. Miss Isabella Marie.” Like rain drops on a tin ceiling.

The Arquette boy looked between the two before edging towards the black mules “Any orders where to put these, Major?” Skinny lips. Skinny spine.

Jasper had finally looked up from the strawberry cheeked girl in front of him, released their hands, and knocked his head backwards, towards the other soldiers checking tents and cleaning their own horses.

“Just take em back to the storage tent. Not like it’ll be competing for space.” The Major looked back at his men “Calhoun, Jennings, help Arquette move these rations will you? Make yourself useful for once.” His voice didn’t have to boom and condense like a rung out air horn, the cool of his vocal cords carried and personally plucked the not yet men from their activities and dragged them towards the group of three. Like some sort of magic act.

Bella was far from resigned. “So Major Whitlock, what would you like me to do?” Hopeful eyes, always searching to please. Or to piss off— as Emmett always scorned.

An upturn of lips flashed through Jaspers face and he looked to the sky for a mere moment “Mind helping me sort out some of my maps back in camp? My backwoods knowledge ain’t as sharp as my Houston kind and you seem like an expert in this area, getting yourself up to us all alone.” Bella’s feet started to move on instinct towards the felted wool tent covering a hundred or so feet behind the large man, but his hand stopped her at the shoulder, “And, if you don’t mind, would you be my guide back to town this evening? I’ve got to scout the path for the boys to pull through by the end of this week.”

She should’ve thought longer about it, linger over his words, the way his tongue flicked over his canines and brushed noticeably at the edge of his front teeth. But she didn’t. Not now. Not when the time it would’ve taken could pick at the carefully constructed wall built specifically for boys with serpent tongues. And lion hands. And bear teeth and… he still waiting for her response.

A shake to her head “Of course Major. If you’ll help me bring the mules back home, you’d be more help to me than I think I’d ever be to you.”

He could taste her self doubt. And he didn’t like it.

A jut of his brow led them through the ragged campsite, broken down cinders coating the bottom of her unusually worn boots, the lace of her dress clashing horribly with the scent of charred flesh and resting wounds. If only she knew a doctor. If only the town still had one.

His tent was one of the stronger ones, every inch placated with the spine of a book or a map binder or a drape of letters. He needed a desk and a real bed and maybe someone to make sure he stayed warm during the mountain nights.

Jaspers hands found a tiny stack of drawn maps and laid them over his now folded lap on the ground. Bella swiftly found her place at his bended knee and ran a finger over the torn edge. “These look older than my father. It doesn’t even mark the trail you follow to town.” The squishy flesh of her thumb traced an invisible oil line through the mountain and deposited itself in a town with seemingly no name, according to the parchment. “That’s home. If you’re following these maps I don’t quite understand how you ever got here.” Her eyes were full, engorged on road markers and faded city names.

Jasper softly nodded, their heads just inches from each other as she leaned in to scour the map. He had barely gotten to the camp they were in, his right hand Henry doing nearly all of the sight work. He’d be a hell of a tracker if he was a bloodhound. The blond almost chucked at the thought of Henry with big floppy mutt ears, yelping at the pretty girl almost in Jasper’s lap.

Her hair was like a chocolate waterfall. The good chocolate that mama got sent to her from her sister up north, the kind that was broken off continuously, piece after piece fed to him and his sisters until nothing was left.

Part of him wanted to see if she tasted as sweet.

He’d blame it on how damn long it’s been since he’s smelled anything other than soured sores and gunpowder. Even if Miss Isabella Marie smelled good enough to eat. Good enough to take like a man starved. And God— Jasper hungered like no other.

“There’s a river through the valley here, if you can find yourself through the woods.” Bella had found a piece of graphite and drawn in the harsh line of a hidden waterway just a mile or so from camp. She looked up at him as she spoke, her eyes warmly whiskey colored through her lashes.

His mouth clenched. “How old are you Miss McCarty?”

She blinked rapidly, like coming out of a daze. “Seventeen.”

Her hand dropped the instrument to the paper and draw up to his knee, the covered bone sharp under her knuckles.

“Do you have a boy at home waiting for you, Miss McCarty?” Hot air blew from his mouth to hers like a heatwave. Like a curse.

Bella’s lips formed a small “No” as she slid her small hand up the Major’s thigh, her singular ring gliding like margarine inch my inch as the seconds ticked by, each breath marking the two closer.

“Do you have a wife, Major?” Only whisper escaped her rosebud mouth, his face turning downwards, noses only separated by spirit.

“I was too busy waiting for you, it seems, Miss Bella.”

Her heart thumped her chest hard enough to make her ears ring.

Bella’s fist jumped from Jasper’s thigh to his army issued button up and crushed his chest to her own, her lips finding purchase slotted against his, the force clinking their front teeth together without care. His hands were gripping the roots of her soft waves, their skulls as close as their skin would let them. She wanted more, more, the heat suffocating the tent from more than the August sun. Her thin fingers slipped easily through the button gaps as his tongue invaded the privacy of her mouth. A horrible demented part of her brain screamed ‘Take, Take, Take. Mark me down and climb into the spaces that were meant to fit just us.’ Her brother had always called her too much of a dreamer. Too much of a poet and a believer and an artist. But God. This man was in her hands and she felt like a masterpiece.

A man she hardly knew.

But somehow, the scrape of his knuckles against her soon to be bare thighs felt like they had known each other at birth. Like Texas and Tennessee were just minutes from each other. As if they were the only bodies in the whole entire war.

Jasper’s hands were of no gentleman’s when he unfastened the ribbons holding her skirt to her waist, the under coat used for riding coming off like silk in his calloused palms. She was moaning into his mouth, the world outside the tent becoming buttery soft and not to be worried about. All there was was Jasper and his fucking mouth moving to her neck and his teeth toying around her jaw.

“Jesus, Major” He chuckled at her swear and rid her completely of every layer but her shift and the wool of her stockings, the small corset she wore becoming just cannon fodder for the mouth and hands of the Cavalryman.

“I love when you call me that, darlin. Wanna hear you scream it.” She had barely gotten open a single button on his shirt before he brushed the maps out of the way and flipped her on her back underneath him, the sway of his curled mane teasing her, the golden wheat just barely out of the reach of her teeth or fingers.

She wanted to use it like reins.

She’d especially like calling him by his rank then.

“You know I—“ her breathing caught the better of her as he lifted her by her thighs and dragged her ass to his kneeled position, his fingers running up her stockings with particular care, each inch another layer to her growing wetness. She didn’t let go of her breath until he had reached the skirting of her underdress, the white cotton nearly see through with the sweat sticking to every inch of her skin. His watery eyes devoured the sight with an indescribable hunger. Like a wolf hanging over a bleeding lamb.

What a happy sacrifice she’d be.

“Are you a good little southern girl, Isabella?” His fingertips brushed just under the fabric, his intent not easily hidden behind his hardened brow.

She came out trembling, she couldn’t tell over excitement or fear. “Yes Sir. No ones ever…” even her mother would blush saying those words.

Jasper finally smiled, sharp and soul quenching, like a mist of rain before a hurricane.

“I’m going to ruin you.” He couldn’t tell her about the wedding playing out behind his eyes or the static electric resonance he felt thinking about how another man would never get to lay a hand on his pretty Isabella.

His fingers slipped over her cunt, the soft curling hair tickling his fingertips. The moist warmth wet his fingers before skirting over her lips. He almost groaned. She was soaked. He had to see what his little Belle looked like in the light.

Jasper’s eyes met Bella’s giant blown out doe ones, her elbows holding up her upper body, trying to anticipate his very next move.

If they were playing chess, he was going to win. And she had always been a sore loser.

The skirt of the shift creased with the heat of his palms against her stomach, the slightly cooler air blowing across her pussy, making Bella suck in a breath through her teeth, her bottom lip becoming stuck under them with practiced strength.

Her knees knocked against Jasper’s hips as he watched the pink of her pussy clench around nothing, her wet little hole puckering and buzzing with the want of something under his trousers. He licked his lips as he had a gathered two fingers at her slit and traced upwards, her breath coming out in pants as he reached her clit, the engorged nub nearly ringing in her ears. A small circle over it make her moan from her throat. Bella had never felt someone else’s touch, she had never realized how much she wanted for it. She never knew how much she wanted Jasper to touch her.

The solider took his time as he brought the pads of his fingers back down to her achingly small hole and gathered some of her slick, the smell of sweat and Bella nearly driving him half insane as he brought a finger to his mouth, his tongue licking her clean off.

If Bella could speak to God directly and have him reply, she’d thank him for the creation of Major Jasper Whitlock.

But all she could do was cry out for more. And more he silently promised to give.

Maybe too much.

He had to stretch her out, the head of his cock wouldn’t fit into her without an orgasm in her, not now at least. Jasper slowly brought his hand back a third time and entered a single finger, her hips nearly bucking against his wrist as he slowly sat himself. A bead of sweat ran off his brow. A second finger partnered with the first after a few pumps, in and out, in and out. The near wetness coated on those fingers alone could bring him to release in his cot. He couldn’t wait any longer.

“Isabella I have to—“ “Please Major I need—“

The two looked at each other, their mouths in sync as they sat, their souls intertwining and bundling up into a bramble of wonderful thorns, coy smiles gracing both their faces.

Bella sat up slowly and draped a hand over Jasper’s belt buckle. “May I, Major?” The shorty craftsmanship of the iron buckle became putty under her unskilled hands as he nodded, now without words for the angel in front of him. The belt was off before the two noticed and Jasper brought his issued pants down to his ankles and off with his shoes to rest with the scraps of her dress he had taken off so quickly.

“Do you… always go bare?” The squeak of Bella’s voice made Jasper snicker like the teenage boy he technically still was, the nineteen year old clicking his teeth together and grinning. “Miss McCarty, sometimes underpinnings only get in the way of an army man.” A deep blush settled into her cheeks as she slapped at his chest, his shirt hanging open just slightly as he pushed her back to the floor.

“Shush, Whitlock.”

His smile turned feral as the head of his cock graced the hood of her clit, bouncing just slightly with the breath of their bodies. Jasper marked in his head that this should be a sight to see on their wedding night, not their first night together, but by God was it a beautiful one.

He looked at her as he grasped one of her hips with his right hand and the base of his cock with his left. “Breathe, Belle. Breathe with me, alright?” She nodded her head slowly and brought her own hand to the tent floor, grasping tightly.

Jasper’s hand guided the head carefully over her lips and to her quivering entrance. One buck and he’d tear her to badly to bear. No matter how long it had been… he’d never rush with his Isabella. Not now.

He slowly pushed in, the stretch a burn like no other, Bella’s voice turning from a quick steal of breath to a long sigh, the air being pushed out as he took her in. Inch by inch she devoured him, the heat marking his cock in emotional third degree burns. The sky burned brighter, the colors in his eyes turned clearer. Her hips and her fragile skin and the slip of her cunt was the end of the world and the birth of something entirely new. She grasped his shoulders as he mumbled a slew of impressive praise as he allowed her to adjust and seated himself at the very base of her cervix. Her throat screamed out to him as her nails dug in his back.

A wonderful, wonderful burn.

Bella slipped a hand to Jasper’s hip to push him back, to set any and all pace so that the fire would keep burning. He quickly slotted his face in the clench of her neck and began to move his pale hips, beginning to push and pull within her very tight walls.

The tent was full of grunts and moans and breathy screams he was sure the entirely camp heard. But Jesus Christ he didn’t give a single damn at that very moment. His boys knew to stay out of his shit and they be proven that every second until his angel’s orgasm.

God he wanted to fill her up. Wanted to take all of his cum and bury it deep where the lord intended, leave her leaking and exhausted and full of everything he had. He’d empty his balls in her again and again if it meant the Tennessee flower in his arms would keep him forever.

He wanted her forever.

“Major, deeper, please God please yes YES.” Jasper’s hips were snapping at a rapid pace, his balls slapping against her ass as he drove her into the hard ground. He could feel her tighten up the way he felt the air change around him before a fight broke out, the way a horse steps on a snake without jumping. There was an electricity in the air and the moment Bella tore his head out from her and pulled him into a jaw crushing kiss, he was crumbling at her feet, her pussy clenching and spasming around his cock with enough force to take out a grizzly bear.

She locked her legs around his hips as he all but collapsed into her, his hair sweaty between her fingers as she combed through it as his dick twitched it’s last time inside her belly. Jasper’s own hands found repentance under her ass and stayed there, too tired to remove himself from her heat.

“That ride home is gonna be sweaty, isn’t it?” Her whisper made her snort and bite into the side of her neck as she giggled.

#btw the link on the summary is always the ao3 link #i cross post things there #jasper/bella #my writing #mine #writing #fic #twilight #thetwilightsaga #twilight fanfiction #jasper hale #jasper Whitlock #jasper Cullen #bella swan #confederacy tw #smut tw #smut

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andilovetowrite · 3 years

Text

Punch To The Heart (Part 3)

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: After repeatedly blowing you off on plans, events and trips, you have finally had enough. But Peter soon regrets it as he sees the harsh reality of almost losing his best friend.

Based on a request, you can find it here!

Warnings: Shooting and violence. But nothing too graphic. Some angst and crying, but also a lot of fluff :)

Here is my Masterlist in case you want to find more of my work :)

Part 1

Part 2

We’ve got he--r

Stay with us Y/nnnn

Come on, try anythin--

Oh, thank go-

Words swam in and out of your head, floating in front of you and into your ears. Voices shouted from either side of you at some point. You could feel yourself slipping into some type of unconsciousness, with bright white light shining through your eyelids. You could hear Peter’s voice mix in with your parent’s voices. You could hear May’s voice, and through some type of veil, you could listen to Uncle Ben’s voice as well. Sure that you were hallucinating, you tried to open your eyes but blacked out before you could try….

You regained your consciousness at some point, your brain making sense that you could not move your body. Which meant you were unable to roll your eyes. But you could feel things. The blinding sorts of pain in your stomach and right thigh. The rough material of some type of gauze covering your entire lower body. Your back bare, with your front covered in a flimsy cloth. And for a quick moment, you thought you were back in the van, with kidnappers and terrorists. And the thought alone made you pass out again…

The last time that you woke up, you were hit with a multitude of sounds and noises. Carts being pushed, metal creaking, glasses clinking. You could hear voices as well. The soft drawl of some lady next to you, one that you vaguely remember. A comforting voice, one that you were familiar with because she woke you up in the mornings. Your mom. Another deeper voice was trying to calm her down—your dad. A worried, yet the firm say that you knew since you went to her house every other day. Aunt May.

But one specific voice was loud and clear to you. High, slightly cracked, chocked up. A voice that you could recognise even if you were half dead. A voice that you grew up with, a voice that was by your side for years. A voice that now seemed to be crying softly from the other side of the room.

So with whatever energy you had left in you, you opened your eyes and whispered. “Peter”

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“Peter”, Peter said, shocked, staring at your body. “Did she just say, Peter?”

The doctor nodded, putting his hand on his shoulder. “Yes, she did, I believe. Are you her boyfriend? Or a family member?”

Peter shook his head, still staring dumbfounded at you. “I’m her best friend.”

The doctor sighed. “Alright, well, here is what we know so far-”

“Wait, shouldn’t Mr and Ms Y/L/N be here? To get an update on their daughter?“Peter interrupted, trying to see where they were. The doctor sighed again.

“They had to go to a business meeting and told me that a lady named May Parker would be her guardian until they return in a couple of weeks.”

Peter’s mouth flew open. “They left her?”

The doctor nodded, looking at you sadly. “Yes, they did, but I will send them daily updates about how she is doing.”

Peter licked his dry lips, suddenly realising how parched his throat was. “Here, drink some water, and I’ll tell you how she is.” Peter took the plastic cup from him, drinking it down.

“So first of all, she is getting better. Our team of doctors had predicted that she would likely be in a coma for the next few days, but she has regained consciousness, and her fluids are good. Her internal organs are getting stronger, and hopefully, if all goes well, she should wake up for good in the next day or two.”

The doctor read his papers, nodding politely at Peter, who was visibly calmer. The doctor looked at his watch, tutting softly. “It’s late. I would advise you to go home. Get a couple of hours of sleep. You can come back in the afternoon.”

Peter looked out, confused when he saw the starting rays of sunshine come in through the window. He was so tired that he didn’t realise that he had been in the hospital for 9 hours. Peter looked at you, weighing his options. As if the doctor could sense what was going on in his head, he patted Peter’s back. “Visiting hours have been over since 3 am. But it opens up again at 11. Go and rest for a bit. It’ll do you good.” Peter averted his eyes to you again before he nodded, kissing your cold forehead lightly before he walked out, hoping to get some sleep or rest.

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He didn’t get any sleep. Usually, if he couldn’t, he would call you or swing over to your house. Well, not usually. Ever since he started dating MJ, he wouldn’t even go to your home. And MJ never let him come over in the night, too paranoid that her parents would find Peter. Oh, and forget about patching him up after patrol. She would get sick at the sight of Peter’s bruises and injuries. One time, he even had to swing to the compound because he had been shot.

None of that would have happened if he had just been a good friend. Been a good best friend. If only he had not fought with you that day, not ignored you, then you wouldn’t be in the hospital with pipes going in and out of you.

Peter couldn’t shake his fear and paranoia, creeping out of his bed quietly, to not wake up May. Slowly walking to the bathroom, he looked in the mirror. Bloodshot eyes stared back at him. He ran his fingers through his hair, wincing slightly. Tears slipped down his face, little by little as he tried to imagine how worried you might have been. Soon, he couldn’t see anything, as salty tears fell into the sink infront of him. “Oh god, Y/N”, he said, voice cracking. He dejectedly went back to his room, grabbing his suit. Instinctively, he pulled it on, opening his window slightly. Jumping out the window, he didn’t even know where he was going. Somehow, he ended up back at the hospital, looking into your window. It was open, letting in the warm air into your room. He sighed, letting the mask fall off his face. He let the wind go through his curls, feeling it dry the lines of water on his face. Suddenly, he heard some noise from your window. Looking closer, he saw your eyes flicker open, and your voice walf over to him.

“You can come in, you know? Everybody has gone to sleep…”, you said, your voice cracked and scratchy from not using it. Peter just stood still for a couple seconds, too shocked to move.

You were alive! And speaking to him…

Jumping in, he landed softly, not wanting to cause a scene. “He-hey”, Peter said, stuttering. You smiled at him, tiredness showing on your features.

“Hey Peter, are you okay?”, you asked, eyes going over his own, how disheveled he looked.

“You-I, I’m not the biggest thing you should worry about Y/N! You-you were shot. Twice. How-I don’t-wha-”

You reached out to him, wincing as you moved your arm. Peter noticed this, running over to you. “Don’t-don’t do that, you can hurt yourself”, he said, worry evident in his eyes.

You sighed, sitting back. “Pete, why don’t you change out of the suit. I don’t want nurses to walk by and see Spiderman in my room… especially if you don’t have a mask.”

Peter nodded, pressing the small button on his suit that made it shrink up, revealing his clothes underneath. Peter didn’t say anything, but walked over to you, hands in his pockets.

“How are you feeling?”, Peter asked, sitting down gingerly at the side of your bed. You shrugged, not knowing what to say. A few minutes passes, the silence becoming suffocating. Almost simultaneously, you both said.

“I’m sorry”

Looking at Peter, you saw him staring at you indercously.

“Why are you sorry?”

Again, you both shut your mouths, and as easily as you could, you gestured to Peter to say something. “Why-why are you sorry? I’m the one who put you in danger Y/N! Yo-you could’ve died.”Peter rambled, eyes starting to glisten as he looked at your body, how those men had hurt you. “I-if I had just not fought with you, then you wouldn’t have walked out of the school, and I wouldn’t have had to give you the bag, and then they wouldn’t have targetted you. Y/N, I’m the reason you are in the hospital. I can’t-yo-you got so badly hurt, I can-no” By this time, the dam inside Peter had broken, as tears started streaming down his face.

You could feel your own throat start to close up, so you did the only thing you could think of. You opened your arms up, letting Peter crawl in. He kept his weight off you, so not to hurt you even more. You ran your fingers up and down his back, calming him down.

“It’s alright, Peter. I would have them rather come for me than yo-”

“No”, Peter said firmly, trying to mask the crack in his voice. “Don’t say that. You are far more important than me, you can’t even wish that Y/N”

You smiled sadly. “Peter, the world needs Spiderman. They don’t need me…”

“No no no”, Peter said, making you look at him. “So many people need you Y/N”

“No, they don’t, Pete. My parents don’t care. I mean, they aren’t here, are they? What is it this time? A business trip?”

Peter tried to object, but he knew that you wouldn’t believe him. “I-I need yo-”

“And don’t say that you need me, because you had no problem spending time with M-”

“I broke up with her”, Peter said hurriedly, wanting to get it out as soon as possible.

You nodded, feeling guilty as a small part of you rejoiced. “Good for you”, you said, emotionless. An awkward silence enveloped the air around you two again, but this time, it became too much. Out of nowhere, you started crying, choked hiccups and sobs coming from your throat.

“Y/N!”, Peter said, smoothening your hair.

“I-I’m sorry. I was just so sc-scared and I was sure I was going to die, and I just can’t do-” You said, hugging yourself softly, as you looked at him through blurry eyes. And you didn’t have to say anything before Peter hugged you closer, the last thing you saw was his brown irises before you dropped to sleep…

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Dr Lee walked around the hall, looking at the different rooms before he reached Y/N Y/L/N’s room, and he had to clean his glasses twice to see what he think he saw. Hugging you, with your legs intertwined, was Peter. Your face snuggled into his chest, his arms were looped around you, holding you close. What was the most astonishing thing was how even your breathing and charts were. No patient who had ever gotten shot would’ve recovered so quick, but he could see something was different.

Carefully opening the door, he quietly watched as Peter stirred, eyes flickering open as he drowsily smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead before falling back asleep.

Dr Lee sighed, smiling at them. “Oh, they are obviously in love….”

Ooh, I really liked this part! Anyway, thank you for reading this, and the next (and last) part will be out later this week, possibly on Friday or Saturday. If you want to be tagged in the next part of the following fics, please just respond to this one telling me that. Until next time👋👋

Tagged: @a--1--1--3 @idkatee @eternalscribblesforthesoul @loudbluepancake @poisondevotion @scram1326 @t-hollanderr @305weasley @starknik22 @marvelfansworld @lou-la-lou @lomlparker @marvelfansworld @wowitsel @vanteguccir @fullcheesecakeengineer

#peter parker fluff #peter parker x bestfriend reader #peter parker angst #shooting #violence #angst #fluff #x reader #y/n

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perriewinklenerdie · 3 years

Text

Thoughts (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Claire Herondale

Word count: 1,7 k

Summary: OH3 Chapter 2 rewrite + added scene. Claire finds out what’s on Ethan’s mind every time he sees her.

Warnings: None

A/N: What’s that? Ethan and MC are acting like a couple? Did you mean ‘give them more fluff’? I got you, no problem.

Ethan’s focus was forcefully shifted from the paperwork he’s been working on to the two figures that appeared in the doorway to his office. His forehead creased at the sight of his newest patient being wheeled into the room. Not a fraction of a second later, Claire came into his field of vision and, as bizarre as it seemed, her presence alone managed to lessen the irritation the new administration of the hospital evoked in him every single day since they came back to work. Remembering what the deal with their patient was, he schooled his features as much as he could.

“Dr. Herondale, is everything alright?” he found her eyes with his, feeling a wave of warmth flooding him. Claire moved her head slightly, a shift in her stance so miniscule that if he weren’t paying as close attention to her as he did, he wouldn’t have caught it.

“Everything’s okay, I just figured that since we were waiting for Andrew’s M.R.I., we could study his… symptoms a little more.” She walked closer, leaning on the desk. A whisper of a grin made itself at home on her face. “Mind taking part in a little experiment?”

He somehow knew that it would come to this, almost as though he could read her mind now too. Ridiculous as the situation was, he knew saying ‘no’ wasn’t a real option for him – he’s lost the ability to deny her anything a long time ago. With a sigh, he waved his hand for Andrew to begin.

“He’s tense.” The young man started, matter-of-factly. Ethan scoffed.

“I don’t think you need psychic powers to determine that.” He pointed out, leaning back in his seat. Looking at Claire again, he found her already staring at him with a tenacious spark. “… Fine, proceed. But only because I agree that we need to determine what’s going on here.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” She muttered under her breath, grinning cheekily at him. “All right, Andrew, tell me what does Dr. Ramsey think about me?”

With no hesitation, Andrew replied. “You mean besides what he’d be doing with you now if the two of you were alone?”

Ethan’s head snaps towards their patient before he can even think about what he’s doing. “What?”

“Am I right?”

“Ethan?” Claire’s voice betrayed the surprise she was trying to hide with a stoic look on her face. She didn’t have to say anything else, really, because Ethan already knew that she’d tease him endlessly with that knowledge. A flash of heat licked its way up his spine, coloring his neck red. He broke the eye contact, incredibly interested in anything but her all the sudden. There was no running from her, though, since the first thing that his eyes landed upon was a photo of Claire and him from the gala.

It took him a moment to find his voice again, words melting into a mumble.

“… I don’t want to talk about it.”

Andrew, encouraged rather than disheartened by the obvious effect he had on the doctor, continued. “In the slightly more PG realm, he’s about ten times happier since you walked through the door.”

Ethan cracked a helpless smile, feeling himself unable to keep a straight face. He tried to make his voice sound stern, but at this point, not even Ethan himself believed his tough demeanor.

“I would really prefer it if you stopped while I still have some dignity left.”

The young man fell quiet, clearly proud of himself. Meanwhile, Claire turned around towards her partner and leaned closer. Her hair fell over her shoulder, creating a curtain that hid her face from Andrew. Ethan felt locked in place, hypnotized by her charming smile.

“You have something to say about this…?” she trailed off, dropping her voice to a warm mutter. He hesitated, unsure how much freedom he could allow himself, but ultimately, the look she was giving him made him forgo his inhibitions.

“I won’t deny that he’s right.” He began, causing her to grin knowingly. “But he could have figured this out by the way my eyes follow you. Or my body language, for that matter.” He recalled all the times in which his body gravitated towards hers during the initial consult, their shoulders pressing together.

“I don’t know about it, Dr. Ramsey.” Leaning into him even further, she whispered sultrily. “That thing about throwing me on the desk… not that it would be the first time…” her gaze fell to his lips, the corners of her own inching upwards. Ethan’s breath caught in his throat, his body moving towards her slightly. Before he could reach her, she straightened her posture and turned back around to her previous position. “That was strangely familiar. Not to mention, accurate.”

Andrew cleared his throat, bringing the attention of both his doctors back to him. The older diagnostician blushed an even deeper red color.

“Be that as it may, it would help to test it further with more concrete questions. Mr. Polowsky tell me…” Ethan wondered what question he should ask, deciding upon something that there was no way he could figure out simply by observing him. “My favorite place to vacation.”

This time, the young man hesitated, taking a moment to think before answering. “New York?”

“Try ‘no place at all’.” Claire chimed in, looking over her shoulder to gauge Ethan’s reaction. “Dr. Ramsey here is a workaholic.”

“Very funny, Claire. Try again, Mr. Polowsky.”

“Maybe Las Vegas?”

Ethan laughed, shaking his head in disagreement for the second time. He felt Claire’s eyes on him, noticing a curious glint when he looked into them. They kept the contact long after Andrew admitted that he didn’t know the answer.

“Weird. You were getting perfect reads with everyone else.”

“This ability clearly has its limits. It might help narrow down the possible causes.” Ethan nodded in agreement, observing their patient closely.

“So what is your favorite vacation spot?” Andrew questioned, curious about where the world-renowned diagnostician chose to relax.

“Nice try. I may not use Pictagram much…” Ethan laughed, sending a meaningful look Claire’s way, her latest photo never too far from his thoughts. “But I know better than to give away my best kept secret and invite the crowds in.”

He observed them as they left for Andrew’s M.R.I., perplexed by the whole situation. Claire looked back at him and once she was sure she had his attention, she blew him a kiss, grinning smugly at the charged look he gave her.

Some time later, he found her hunched over the table in his office, deep into the article displayed on her laptop. Leaning against the side of the table, he looked into her research.

“Any progress?”

“Nothing new. M.R.I. didn’t show any significant changes, blood tests came back with no indications towards any probable causes.” Her shoulders fell in disappointment. “We’re back to square one. Flu… and psychic abilities.” Claire fell deeper into her seat, sighing deeply. “And those powers are getting creepy. You saw it yourself.”

“I can certainly agree that his accuracy is uncanny, not something you’d usually expect from cold reading. But it’s not enough to convince me that he has magical powers.” Straightening his back, he hummed under his breath. “He wasn’t 100% right.”

“He was right about you, though.” Claire smiled suspiciously at him. “Mostly. I still want to know what’s that heavily guarded holiday destination of yours.”

Ethan’s hand moved to her neck, trailing upwards until he reached her pulse point, tracing the delicate skin with the tip of his finger.

“If I tell you now, there won’t be an element of surprise when I take you there.”

Her eyes fluttered close for a moment, losing her focus upon the feeling of his skin against hers. She was breathless when she spoke again, and he was sure he had her distracted. How wrong he was.

“Are you going to be thinking about me when we’re there the way you think about me when we’re at work?”

A low groan escaped him, a hint of a blush returning to his face. “You’re not gonna let me live this down, huh.”

Claire scrunched her nose adorably, the only response he needed, then turned back to her research. Ethan moved to stand behind her, squeezing her shoulders from time to time as they brainstormed for possible causes of their patient’s special powers.

His eyes found her in the evening after they diagnosed Andrew, just as she was about to leave. The atrium was strangely quiet, providing a false sense of calmness. His feet carried him towards her on their own.

“Fancy seeing you here.” He smiled warmly, reaching her side in a few strides. Claire raised an eyebrow at him, the corners of her lips rising smugly.

“Why? Were you hoping to see me?”

“Oh, definitely.” They were now face to face, eyes locked in a heated gaze. His fingers followed the hem of her jacket, pulling her closer to him by the lapel. “Do you have any plans for the evening?”

She adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder, humming softly. “I was originally gonna go home and drown myself in Netflix, but I suppose I could be convinced otherwise.”

“I see.” He nodded, stroking the line of her cheekbone with his knuckles. His voice dropped to a deep grumble, sending a thrilling shiver through her. “Can I make you dinner?”

Claire breathed out slowly. “Yeah.” Her shoulders fell as the tension accumulated throughout the whole day of work flew out of her. “I’d love that.”

Ethan threw his arm over her shoulder, tangling their fingers together and squeezing tenderly. He pressed a long kiss to her forehead, smiling once again – he’s been doing that a lot lately.

Before they reached the train station that would take them to his apartment, she saw an opening for one more tease.

“Do you want another blueberry smoothie in the morning?”

Notes

My two idiots are basically married. That’s all I see.

#ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #open heart #playchoices #ethan ramsey x mc

172 notes · View notes

captain-josslett · 3 years

Text

Broken Melody - Part Thirty Three

Masterlist

Summary: Grammy Award winning Emma Danvers is the first to say she has a pretty good life. But what happens when it implodes around her and it looks like things will never be the same again?

Words: 8.8k+ (DANG IT! I tried not writing as much... Ah well.)

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, PTSD moments, smut...ish more mentions of?

Pairings: Emma Danvers x Lena Luthor, Alex Danvers x Sam Arias

This Part: A week before the surgery and Emma sees Alistair for an appointment.

Ek! So close! Please, please, please, let me know you thoughts and opinions. I literally have no anons 😅 @aznblossom thank you for always leaving a comment!

Thank you for reading and let me know if you wanna be tagged or any general feedback will be greatly appreciated. Please! I like knowing your thoughts.

Taglist: @finleyfray, @life-is-hella-unfair, @natasha-danvers, @supergirl-writingz, @camslightstories, @thinking1bee, @aznblossom

A Week Before The Surgery

Emma’s feet pound the pavement as she runs along the waterfront by the city, with Robyn’s partly completely album blaring in her ears.

Emma can’t help but feel pride with how good everything sounds as she passes unsuspecting members of the public. Weaving around the couples and families going for a gentle stroll in the warm April, Saturday sun.

Her face starts to feel slightly uncomfortable from the sweat rolling down her face. The face modifier causing a strange sensation and a tightness due to her heated skin. After finding this happening whenever she exercises with the modifier on, Winn and Brainy decide to develop a new model, one that will hopefully be more lightweight and comfortable for the wearer. Including more options and will be able to change the wearer's hair and colour.

But, Emma hopes the time will come soon where Lucy gives her the go ahead where she won’t have to wear it anymore. By Doctor Hamilton’s assessment it should be another month or two before that can happen.

Emma had ventured out without it on, but that was under Lucy’s strict orders and guidance. The lawyer had organised a little outing where Emma sat in a wheelchair with a nasal cannula, giving the impression she was getting oxygen and sat with her sisters at Noonan’s. Bruises and prosthetics were applied around her face and neck to create the illusion that Emma was still healing.

Emma did query whether it would be a good idea but she had been reassured it was. Emma even asked if she still needed the prosthetics but Doctor Hamilton explained that with the severity of the trauma done to her body, she suspects the swelling would have stayed around longer than normal.

As soon as Alex rolled Emma through the restaurant's doors it spread like wildfire that Emma was out in public. Social Media lapped it up and soon a crowd of paparazzi, well wishers and fans gathered outside the restaurant. Emma stiffly waved and played her part but was grateful when they left and she could get rid of the itchy makeup and prosthetics.

Lena was meant to have joined them at the outing, but per usual, Lena had been too busy to attend.

Emma lets out a heavy breath as her heart clenches at the thought of her girlfriend. The Sunday after Nia’s party had been utter bliss with Emma waking up in Lena’s arms. The raven haired beauty had already been awake and kissed Emma’s forehead as she greeted her. The couple then laid there for a while, planting soft kisses on each other's lips until Emma needed to pee. The blonde had come back expecting Lena would want to start the day. However the raven haired beauty had not moved.

“Didn’t you mention about spending the whole day in bed?” Lena asked in a husky voice, dripping in sex. She pulled the covers back and revealed she had removed her pajamas.

Emma didn’t hesitate in flinging off her own clothing and jumping right back into bed. That day had been magical while they moved as one, the feeling of-

Her watch bleeps, pulling Emma out of her thoughts and alerting her to another mile she’s completed and calculating what her pace is. She glances down at it to check but notices the time instead, her eyes widen and immediately she turns towards Alistair's office.

‘Shit! Shit! Shit!’ Emma screams in her head as she starts running faster and berates herself for being in her own little world. Not realising she had gone further then she originally planned.

Currently she was twenty minutes away from Alistair’s office and her appointment was in ten minutes. She’s going to be late and Emma hates being late. The blonde pumps her arms and wishes she could call out for people to move or apologies when she makes people jump as she sprints past.

Finally Alistair’s building comes into view but Emma doesn’t slow down until she slides in front of the building's door and presses the buzzer four times to alert the alien she has arrived.

“Come on up Emma!” Alistair’s warm voice calls through the speaker and the buzzing of the lock follows, allowing Emma to push the door open.

The blonde races up the stairs two at a time, putting her wireless headphones in their case and turns into the hallway towards Alistair’s office door. Finding that the red headed alien was already standing in the doorway and gently smiling at her.

‘I’m so, so sorry! I’m so late! Time got away from me and-’ Emma’s mind screams out as she quickly approaches the therapist, automatically reaching up and deactivating the modifier.

“Emma, it's okay! You’re actually right on time!”

The blonde halts and frowns, immediately lifting her arm up to look at her watch. She notices the running app is still on and quickly ends the session before looking at the time.

Alistair was correct… She was right on time.

‘Huh… I must have read it wrong.’ Emma muses as she tries to visualise what she saw as she was running.

“Possibly.” Alistair agrees and moves out of the way to let her in.

As soon as she enters the office the patter of paws makes her look up from her watch as Lily excitedly trots over to her.

‘Lily!’ Emma drops to her knees and affectionately strokes under Lily’s chin. The snowy white german shepherd greets her in kind with many licks to her face and arms, lapping up the light sheen of sweat covering them, causing Emma to release a few voiceless laughs.

“She’s always happy to see you.” Alistair says cheerfully and moves towards his chair, motioning for Emma to sit on the sofa.

Straightening up Emma makes her way over with Lily right beside her.

“The water is for you as well. Did you have a good run?” Alistair asks, as Emma sits down, takes her trainers off and sits crossed legged. Lily instantly hops onto the sofa next to her and rests her head on the blonde’s lap.

Emma glances at the coffee table in front of her, on it was a box of tissues, a few books and a glass of water with a lemon slice and a few cubes of ice.

‘Thank you and yes it was good.’ Emma thinks gratefully as she carefully leans forward to get the glass, not wanting to jostle Lily too much. Seeing this, Alistair helps by getting the glass first and holding it out for Emma to take.

“Great and thank you for being willing to move your appointment to today. I am sorry about having to rearrange our time together.” Alistair says sincerely.

‘It’s okay.’ Emma shrugs, she normally sees Alistair during the week. ‘Not like I had much planned for today anyway.’ A small twinge hits Emma’s heart.

“Okay, how’s the last few days been?” Alistair asks as he leans back against the leather armchair and studies her. Emma takes a few gulps of the cool water as she thinks.

‘Yea, it wasn't too bad.’ Memories of the week flashes through her mind, who she saw, the smells, her heart clenching whenever she’d wake up in an empty apartment-

“Ah, I take it Lena is still working a lot?” Alistair asks with a sympathetic smile.

‘Yea.’ Emma answers softly in her mind, her shoulders slump and Lily licks her hand, making the blonde slowly stroke her head. ‘I understand these new investors are important, I know how important her work is but-’ Emma stops her thoughts and looks out of the window at the sea in the distance.

“You miss her.” Alistair finishes for her and Emma lowers her head.

‘Yea.’ Emma thinks weakly and can’t help but visualise their early relationship. How excited Emma was to get back to her hotel room to spend some time with her girlfriend, no matter how exhausted she felt after a gig. ‘I love her so much, I’d give my life for her but I just miss what we had when she wasn’t so busy. I mean we made it work when I was on tour and I’d call her even with the different time zones and it would be early in the morning for me.’

“That is understandable.” Alistair comments as he rests a finger beside his cheek as he ponders what Emma revealed. “You have both been through some major changes. Has she given you a time frame for when things look to be getting back to normal?”

-- -- --

During the week - Lena and Emma’s apartment

Emma checks her phone for the umpteenth time as she gets ready for Lena. On Sunday they had planned to have a date during the week and go out for dinner. Something they haven’t been able to do recently.

Emma voicelessly sighs while putting the finishing touches on her makeup, thankful that her hard work transfers through the modified face.

Standing up from the dressing table the blonde heads towards the walk-in wardrobe and takes the dress, she had spent hours deciding on, off the hanger. The dress was teal coloured, elegantly pleated and Emma had fallen in love with it as soon as she saw it. Also finding she was loving the dress even more when she zipped herself up and admired the way it hugged her toned body. She then steps into her trusted black high heeled shoes and opens her jewelry box.

For a moment she looks for her layered necklace her sisters got her. Only to feel a devastating pang when she remembers Kara crushed it.

‘No… Not Kara.’ Emma shakes her head and closes the lid. She heads out into the living area and glances at her phone again.

No new messages from Lena.

Emma flops onto the sofa, ignoring the dull ache in her head that hasn’t disappeared since leaving the DEO. Naturally when anyone asks her about it the blonde shrugs it off, not wanting to worry her friends and family anymore then she already has.

Laying down on the sofa Emma opens her phone and scrolls through social media to pass the time. She yawns and starts to feel her eyes grow heavy and eventually they close as she falls into a deep sleep.

So deep that even when the apartment door opens and closes, Emma doesn’t stir. Or when heeled shoes click over to her.

What does wake her up is a hand gently shaking her shoulder. Emma jumps, her eyes fly open as she takes a sharp intake of breath.

“Sorry love.” Lena apologises softly and strokes Emma’s cheek with the back of her fingers.

Emma nuzzles her face into Lena’s hand and kisses it before sitting up. Which causes her to become face to face with the raven haired beauty as Lena sat next to the sleeping blonde.

Emma smiles and goes to kiss Lena, until she sees the time on the oven clock. Her eyes widen and she pulls back.

“Em?” Lena pouts at the halted kiss.

“The reservation! We’re late.” Emma moves to jump off the sofa but Lena places a hand on her shoulder, halting her movements.

“I cancelled it.” Lena says hesitantly and Emma blinks at her. “I’m sorry, it got so late and you weren’t answering your phone and-”

Emma places a finger on Lena’s lips, sensing the rising guilt and panic in her girlfriend. Reaching out she unlocks her phone, noticing the messages but instead goes into Hope’s app and turns the lights up from a soft glow.

Lena’s eyes squint at the sudden light and Emma studies her properly.

Despite the make up Lena was wearing, Emma can see the dark circles under her tired, reddened eyes. Emma opens her arms and Lena immediately falls into the hug and kisses her cheek. Slowly Emma leans back into the corner of the sofa, pulling Lena up with her.

“Emma!” Lena giggles and Emma feels Lena settle on top of her and snuggles in. The blonde slowly rubs circles into her girlfriend’s back and eventually feels Lena twitch, signalling she’s fallen asleep.

Carefully grabbing her phone, Emma opens UberEats and decides to get Lena’s favourite food. Seeing that it will be delivered in half an hour, Emma rests her head back against the cushions and enjoys the feeling of holding her girlfriend. Grateful that even though they haven’t gone out on a date, Lena has still come home and given Emma this time with her.

When the food arrives Emma carefully lifts the snoozing CEO off her and quietly runs to the door. But no matter how careful Emma is at keeping quiet, when she turns around Lena is sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

“Em?” Lena’s husky voice calls out.

Emma lets out a huff of frustration as she wants to tell her dinner is ready. She wants to speak the words of love she is longing to say.

Instead Emma strides over to the sofa and places the bag on the coffee table.

“Hmm, you know me so well.” Lena smirks at the sight of the logo on the bag.

The couple settle on the sofa and listen to a playlist of soft acoustic music as they eat.

“I-” Lena starts and hesitates. Turning her head Emma gazes into regretful green eyes and watches Lena swallow before she continues. “I just want to apologise for ruining our date tonight. Time just got away from me and… there's no excuse.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it's not.” Lena tries to implore Emma to listen. “Just- this won’t be forever. I promise you that. I’m taking time off for the surgery and afterwards to look after you. It’s one of the reasons I’ve been working nonstop, so my sole focus will be on you.” She reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind Emma’s ear.

Emma beams at her, taking Lena’s hand and kisses it.

“What have you been working on?” Emma asks and Lena explains the many projects she’s been developing with the investors and her team. Emma’s eyes widen at how complex it all sounds and nods along.

Soon they finish their meal and despite how tired they both are, they head to bed for a different reason than sleep.

-- -- --

Emma comes out of the memory before she shows anything risque to her therapist. But she cannot help but smile softly at the feeling of Lena’s arms wrapped around her.

“Interesting. So there wasn’t a set time frame, just that it won’t be forever?”

‘Yea.’ Emma looks down and runs her fingers smoothly through Lily’s fur.

“Have you tried asking Lena further?”

‘She apologises and says the same thing she’s been saying for a while. Now isn’t forever.’

Alistair nods and looks down at his notes as he jots down a few more. “How are you sleeping?”

Emma hesitates, causing Alistair to look back up at her. Feeling an unease emit from the blonde.

“Emma?” Alistair asks, his eyes imploring her to be truthful with him.

‘I haven’t been sleeping well. I’m finding I-’ Emma pauses, not wanting to admit what's been happening. Taking a deep breath her mind shows him instead. Horrible nightmares that have Emma jumping awake in a panic, drenched in sweat, only to find she is alone in bed.

“You’re still experiencing nightmares?”

Emma nods.

“More than usual, less or about the same?”

‘I-’ Emma lifts her head as she tries to remember. ‘It feels about the same.’

“Okay, that is something that we will still work on and honestly I’m not surprised you are still having them.” Alistair says compassionately, trying to help Emma see she is doing nothing wrong.

“What about your sisters? How are things going with them?”

‘It’s going well. Things almost feel back to normal.’

Emma’s mind brings up the memories of Alex chasing her around the beach, laughing as she tries to catch her until she finally jumps on Emma’s back.

And memories of Kara come forward where she’d fly into the apartment bearing gifts of Emma’s favourite food, like Cadbury chocolates from the UK. The pair would snuggle up on the sofa and watch a film while they gorge on the treats.

‘I know she still feels guilty, but she doesn’t flinch when we hug or touch anymore.’

“That's a good improvement for sure. But it seems Kara is still not as open as Alex yet?” Alistair enquiries, causing Emma to pause as she reflects.

‘No?’ She answers unsure. ‘I mean, Alex still holds back in certain areas. I still catch her looking at me with such a sad expression. They both do.’ Emma plays with her hands as her sisters’ mournful faces fill her mind, that is until Lily nuzzles her nose into her fiddling hands, allowing Emma to stroke her instead. ‘Maybe it's due to Kara’s trauma?’

“Most likely.” Alistair nods in agreement. “The thing is, each of us are different, we have different likes, different dislikes and our brains are wired uniquely. Therefore we can react differently to the same events, depending on who we are.”

Emma nods and rests her head against the back of the sofa as she thinks. ‘That makes sense. So, for Alex, she has trained to be a soldier, her natural instinct is to fight and follow orders. To lead and protect. But for Kara she grew up on another planet, with a particular upbringing, she witnessed that planet being destroyed, all she had known, gone in an instant.’ Emma’s heart pangs in sympathy, remembering how shell shocked Kara had been when Clark brought her to the Danvers. A new family and a new way of life. ‘She had to be so careful, even when walking, to not put her foot through the floorboards or hurt any of us.’

“Like a god among mortals.” Alistair nods in agreement. “From what you’ve told me before, it sounds like fear was instilled in her as soon as she arrived, that she could easily hurt anyone she came in contact with.”

Emma nods.

“So, Kara broke that promise when she hurt you-” Emma immediately interrupts in her mind but Alistair holds his hand up, halting her. “To Kara, she did hurt you and I know you keep repeating that she didn’t, but from Kara’s point of view it was her hand that crushed your neck and broke your bones. She hurt someone she cares deeply about and using the powers she had sworn would protect people.”

Emma lowers her head and pinches the bridge of her nose. Feeling the pounding in her head intensify.

“Like Supergirl, you can’t protect and save everyone.” Alistair says softly, imploring for Emma to understand.

‘I know.’ Emma admits sadly, she feels Lily move and nuzzle her head against Emma’s cheek, as if sensing her pain.

The pair sit in silence for a while. The ticking of the clock being the only noise in the room.

“How are you feeling about the surgery next week?” Alistair looks up at the clock. “You’d have just gone into the theatre.”

‘Honestly, I can’t wait for it.’ Emma thinks softly and the familiar sense of butterflies start fluttering around her stomach.

“How are you feeling about that?”

‘Nervous. Excited. Terrified.’

“Terrified? About the procedure?”

Emma hesitates. Lily, seemingly sensing her tension, lovingly licks Emma’s cheek and nuzzles her head into Emma’s hand. Causing Emma to continue stroking her.

“Emma?”

‘I am terrified about the operation not working, that it's going to make things bad again.’

“How so?”

‘It seems to be a constant reminder when I have to sign or when I go to laugh or make any noise, but all that comes out is breath.’ Emma thinks mournfully and glances out the window, memories of her sisters’ guarded eyes fill her mind. ‘I know this will take time before things can go back to normal. I just don’t want the progress we’ve made to be destroyed because the op didn’t work.’

“And if that happens?”

Emma’s stomach drops at the thought. But her mind focuses on those around her. Her family, friends and Lena. How would they react?

“Emma.” Alistair softly sighs, placing his book on the coffee table and leans forward. “You need to focus on yourself. Which you have been doing and I am pleased with our progress with your PTSD. We both know this isn’t a quick or an easy road. But you need to focus on how you feel about your voice not returning right away or, possibly ever.”

Emma swallows deeply at Alistair’s words, her throat feeling like it’s going to close over. ‘I understand.’

“Good.” Alistair picks his notebook back up and settles back into the seat. “Is there anything else you wish to discuss?”

Emma pauses and focuses on Lily as she runs her fingers through the soft fur.

‘There is something else.’ Emma admits quietly. Almost as if she’s too scared to present it.

“Which is?” Alistair asks kindly, but Emma keeps her mind closed off. “Emma, you don’t have to share if you don’t want to-”

Images start filling his mind, of the world blurring and morphing around Emma. How one second she’s at one end of the apartment and the next she’s at the other end, normally crashing into something or stumbling. How she easily lifts items others seem to struggle with, lifting Lena and Alex like they were light as a feather. Her headaches and heightened senses, especially her sensitive hearing and being able to hear a whisper across a room. How overwhelming the noise can become when she’s in a crowded place.

Alistair also feels fear and confusion pour off the young woman.

“Emma, you have nothing to fear here.” Alistair implores the blonde. “And thank you for showing me. How long have you noticed these- moments?”

‘Only recently when… erm.’ Emma’s cheeks colour in an intense blush as she remembers the moment she heard a crack from the headboard during an intense orgasm on Sunday while she rode Lena’s strap. Looking down she noticed the wood was splintering and cracking under her hands.

Once Lena was asleep Emma had sat up and felt the cracks again. She stayed there for a while as pieces started to click into place. Something was wrong with her.

“Nothing is wrong with you.” Alistair says firmly, his eyes imploring Emma to listen. “Can we test this theory that something is happening to you?” Alistair asks as he straightens up.

Emma nods and watches as he gets up and goes to one of his many bookcases. The redhead picks something up and strides back over to her. In his hand is a small, shiny ball.

“Squeeze this as hard as you can.” Alistair says while handing her the ball and moves her empty glass to sit on the coffee table in front of her.

Lily sits up, intrigued by the object Emma is holding.

‘Okay.’ Emma starts squeezing and applies more and more pressure.

Nothing happens.

“Keep a hold of it but look at me.” Alistair instructs and Emma lifts her eyes and focuses on his kind crystal blue ones.

“Have they gotten any closer to finding those responsible?” Alistair carefully asks, his eyes searching Emma’s hazel green ones.

‘No.’ Emma’s face and eyes darken and she clenches her jaw.

“Are Kara and Alex putting up the right precautions to not get taken again? I imagine they are prime targets as they are close to you? Maybe someone like Winn or Lucy or maybe your Mom or even Lena could be taken next?”

The thought of her family, her friends, her loved ones being forced into what Alex and Kara have already gone through fills Emma with a powerful rage.

She grits her teeth and her hold on the silver ball tightens.

Alistair’s eyes flick down to her hand. “Emma, look.”

The blonde lowers her gaze and gapes at the hand imprint she has made on the now disproportionate ball.

“This is a ball of titanium.” Alistair says as he picks the metal up out of Emma’s hand. “Or was.” He mutters as he turns it around in his hands.

‘What’s happening to me?’ Emma thinks, terrified at what this could mean.

“I don’t know.” Alistair truthfully admits. “Maybe it’s to do with the serum they gave you?”

‘But it was a healing serum? Not a super soldier thing!’ Emma’s mind shouts, her panic starting to build.

“That may be the case, but you need to communicate with Lena, Brainy or Doctor Hamilton about this.”

‘Do I have to?’ Emma apprehensively asks.

“Yes. Because this-” Alistair holds up the distorted piece of titanium. “Is not normal.”

Emma nods but her face scrunches up in emotion.

‘You always like being the center of attention! I hate you!’ Alex’s teenage words scream within Emma’s mind, causing her to hide her head in her hands.

“Emma?” Alistair tilts his head and Lily nuzzles her nose into the side of the blonde’s face.

‘I’m just Emma, plain, simple Emma.’ Her thoughts come out weak and feeble.

“Emma, there is nothing plain or simple about you. You are one of the most talented people I know. Your voice reaches and touches millions of lives and gives them hope.” He says passionately and before Emma can respond a buzzer goes off. “And that’s the end of our session for this week.” He says apologetically. “But we’ve made some really good progress. Emma-” Alistair says to get Emma to look at him. Slowly she lowers her hands and lifts her head. Her eyes swimming in anguish. “I really recommend that you tell someone what is happening. Anyone you feel comfortable sharing with. Maybe Lucy or Sam?” Alistair gently offers. “Just don’t keep this to yourself.”

Emma nods and gets up, making Lily jump off the sofa and trots with her to the door.

“Did you want to meet up on Wednesday like usual? Or did you want to come here on Friday instead?” Alistair offers as he follows behind her with his diary.

‘Yea Wednesday sounds good.’

“Great! I’ll see you then! Have a good weekend and remember what I said.” Alistair opens the door and smiles at her.

Emma nods but feels slightly frustrated that the appointment ended just as they were getting somewhere. She quickly rushes through, feeling like she has more questions than answers.

What’s going on?

Did she have powers?

How could that be?

Over and over these questions cycle through her mind as she makes her way down the stairs.

She passes a mirror and suddenly remembers to put the face modifier on. She chooses the face with the Marilyn Monroe beauty mark that is quickly becoming one of her favourite to use.

As she exits the building Emma starts to get her headphones out and plans a route to run home. That is until a car quickly pulls up beside her and honks loudly. Causing Emma to jump high into the air.

“Get in loser we’re going shopping!” Alex yells across Kara who beams at Emma from the open passenger window.

But the blonde momentarily stays frozen, trying to process what just happened and her sisters’ beaming faces.

“Em?” Kara’s smile fades and a frown replaces it, making Emma quickly open the back door of Alex’s car and dive in.

“Seatbelt.” Alex orders as she turns to study her baby sister. ‘She must have had a hard session.’ Alex thinks and her eyes snap to Kara’s who looks to be thinking the same thing as she bites her lip in worry.

Once Emma is belted in Alex pulls back into traffic. “Hope you didn’t mind us picking you up?” She calls back to Emma and watches her shake her head in the rearview mirror.

Kara twists around so she can see Emma properly. “We thought we could have a sister’s day and have a movie marathon?”

“Sounds good.” Emma signs and tries to smile convincingly.

“Plus it's your turn to choose!” Alex says trying to sound more upbeat than normal and wants to remind Emma. Normally her blonde sister would clap loudly and take a while to choose. Going back and forth between many classics and their favourites. Even discussing pros and cons between the choices she has.

Instead, Emma simply nods in response before gazing out of the window. Making Kara and Alex exchange worried glances as they continue towards Alex’s apartment.

Soon they are parked in Alex's parking space and the sisters get out. Emma goes to walk towards the elevator when Alex stops her.

“Do you mind giving us a hand?” Alex asks while she pops the boot open. Bags upon bags of food are revealed, causing Emma to raise an eyebrow at her sisters.

“I know! I was hungry!” Kara whines and immediately grabs a donut from one of the bags and chomps on it.

“Kara!” Alex yells and swats at her.

“Sorry! Do you want one?” Kara says with her mouth full and offers Alex a donut.

Emma can’t help but smile at the pair and reaches down to take a few bags.

“Wait! Em they are-” Alex pauses as Emma effortlessly lifts them up. “Heavy… Guess not.”

Emma momentarily freezes and remembers what she had Alistair had discussed, instead she shrugs and smiles at the red head instead.

“I got these!” Kara announces and takes the rest.

“You left me with one.” Alex says unimpressed while closing the boot. “Emma, give me a few.”

The blonde looks down and hands her sister the bags full of light goodies.

“I can take a few more.” Alex raises an eyebrow at Emma and holds her hand out. But Emma responds in a shrug and strolls towards the elevator. Alex turns her head towards Kara who repeats Emma’s shrug and follows.

As soon as they enter the apartment Emma places the bags on the island and quickly disengages her face modifier. Silently sighing in relief as she massages her cheeks.

Kara places her bags on the island and pulls out a small USB drive from her jean pocket. “Winn kindly let us borrow his drive with all the films past and present. Wouldn’t let me borrow films of the future though… Especially those based on real events.”

“Wonder why?” Alex laughs and places the last of the bags on the island. She looks to see Emma’s response, but the blonde is too busy unpacking the bags. “Em?”

Hazel green eyes shoot up and an unusual blank look accompanies Emma’s face.

“You okay?” Alex asks with a frown and takes a step towards her baby sister. But Emma takes a step away from her and around the island.

“Can I have a shower? I still feel a bit gross from my run.” Emma signs while barely looking at her sisters.

“Sure! You know you don’t need to ask!” Alex utters and watches Emma nod before zipping into the bathroom.

“Shall I get you some clothes?” Kara calls out while giving Alex a concerned look, the redhead mirrors it with a frown.

Emma pops her head around the door and nods, giving them a grateful smile before quickly disappearing again.

Kara approaches Alex’s closet. “Kara, wait!” Alex yells but the blonde has already opened the door.

“Huh, Alex-” Kara tilts her head and slowly turns back to her sister. “Why are most of your clothes not in your closet?”

“Er, laundry day?” Alex says not too convincingly and can tell by Kara’s face, she doesn’t believe her.

“That’s a question.” Kara places a hand on her hip and studies the redhead.

“Okay I can explain, but I want to tell both of you. Together.”

“Okay.” Kara grins at her sister and turns back to the closet to find something for Emma to wear.

“There should be a bag of Em’s things by the right?” Alex says while getting glasses and bowls for the drinks and snacks for the marathon.

“Found it!” Kara hollers, takes the bag out and places it on the bed. She opens it and tries to find the comfiest clothes for Emma to wear.

“Do you need any help?” Kara asks after getting Emma’s things ready.

“Can you move these to the coffee table please?” Alex asks and then gives Kara a hard look when she grabs two huge bowls filled with treats. “Do not start eating until we are all sitting on the sofa.”

“Yes ma’am.” Kara deadpans and starts transferring the stuff over from the island to the coffee table, while Alex gets the microwavable popcorn ready. Finding they all prefer fresh, hot popcorn to normal bagged ones.

Kara hears the shower turn off and super speeds over to grab the clothes she has chosen for Emma and practically skips to the door, knocking on it in a quick rhythm.

“Hey Em, I got some comfy clothes for you to change into.” Kara calls through the door and hears Emma moving around the bathroom. The door opens and Emma’s hand appears to take it. “There you go!” When the door closes again Kara heads to Alex sitting on the sofa. Her sunny attitude fading as her face morphs into one of worry. “Do you think she had a hard session today?”

“Yea maybe. I mean she hasn’t seemed the happiest the past few days.”

“Mhmm, do you think it's mainly due to Lena? She’s working way too hard.”

“When doesn’t she?!” Alex takes a sip of her drink. “Shall we order or wait for Em to decide?”

“Let’s wait.” Kara nods and sits back into the sofa cushions.

“But how is Lena, like, have you gone to see her recently?”

“Yea, I saw her last night on patrol. Actually had to forcibly remove her from her office but we had a good chat. She just holds onto what her damn family says too much.”

“Yea.” Alex says softly in agreement. She’s grown to really care for Lena, despite the rocky start. “But she’s taking time off soon for the- you know.”

“Yes, that's the plan.” They both ignore the word surgery and both feel their nerves bubbling up about it. “Are you taking any ti-”

The bathroom door opens, making the sisters drop their conversation and look at their baby sister.

Emma feels more relaxed after the warm shower but the sudden stop in her sisters’ conversation when she leaves the bathroom fills Emma with an uneasy feeling.

“Were you talking about me?” Emma signs with a tilt of her head as she continues to dry her hair with a towel.

“Just about what food we fancy.” Kara smiles too brightly. “And as usual we want the complete opposite and I was asking Alex what she thought you would want.”

“Yea and I didn’t get to answer cause that’s when you came in.”

Emma stops drying her hair and looks between her two sisters, her eyes darting back and forth. She doesn’t believe them but decides to go along with their explanation. “So what are the options? I mean, we can get different things right? Not like it will go to waste?”

“Now that is an excellent idea.” Alex nods in approval and gives Kara a bright smile as she unlocks her phone to open UberEats. “So Kara you wanted-”

“Potstickers.” Emma signs at the same time Kara enthusiastically yells the word out.

“You know me so well little one!” Kara laughs, making Emma pause, realising Kara hasn’t called her that in a while.

But she carries on drying her hair before flinging the towel towards Alex’s hamper.

“Em-” Alex starts to complain, thinking the towel would flop part of the way there. But the screwed up towel lands perfectly in the laundry basket. “Ma- huh, good throw.”

Emma bows and approaches where she normally sits in the middle of the sofa.

“Peanut, what do you fancy?” Alex looks up from her phone after putting in her order too.

Emma shrugs and grabs a handful of popcorn.

“That’s for the film!” Alex hollers and slaps Emma’s hand, causing her to jump. “Which you also need to choose what you want to watch.”

“I’ll do it!” Kara super speeds to where she left the USB, plugs it into Alex’s tv and hands Emma the remote to scroll through.

“But first I need to know what you want to eat.”

Emma shoves the rest of the popcorn in her mouth to sign. “What have you already ordered?”

“Chinese and pizza.”

“I’m happy with that. Not feeling overly hungry.”

“What?” Kara blinks in shock especially when Emma can eat a decent amount of food.

“What have you eaten today? Did you have a big breakfast?” Alex enquiries, also knowing it was unusual for Emma not to demand her own food.

“Yes Doctor Danvers, I have already eaten something today.” It was only a banana but Emma wasn’t going to admit that. Her session with Alistair has unsettled her stomach.

“Yea but what was it?” Alex presses but Emma ignores her by focusing on the tv and trying to decide what to watch. Making Alex narrow her eyes. “Emma.”

But her eyes move from Emma to Kara when her other sister motions for her to stop by signing. “Can’t you see something is wrong?”

“I know but I want to find out what!” Alex tries to sign out of Emma’s peripheral vision.

“Leave her alone Alex.” Kara warns, making Alex huff which causes Emma to look over at her and Alex gives her a soft smile.

“So, any idea what we are gonna watch?” Alex asks casually and Kara rolls her eyes.

“Lord Of The Rings Extended Editions?” Emma signs hopefully, knowing the full run time is nearly twelve hours long.

“I’m up for that!” Alex beams at the TV as the menu screen for ‘The Fellowship Of The Ring’ comes up.

“Me too!” Kara claps and settles back into the sofa. Emma smiles at both of her sisters and grabs the blanket draped over the back and places it over their laps.

“Thanks Em.”

The sisters watch the opening scenes fold out, explaining the lore of Middle Earth, the darkness and the moment all things were almost lost.

When the whistle of the Shire plays, Emma’s eyes well with tears and she sniffs. Always finding this piece of music touches her. She feels a hand on each thigh as her sisters reach out to comfort her at the same time and Emma hesitantly takes each hand. Warily to not harm them and being frightened to do so.

‘Rao, is this how Kara feels all the time?’

But Emma tries to push her earlier discovery away and gets lost in the film again.

The loud ringing of the apartment buzzer makes Emma almost jump out of her seat.

“Food!” Kara yells as she flies to the door and down the stairs to grab it from the delivery person.

Emma pauses the film and turns to Alex to sign with a raised eyebrow. “Do you think Kara is secretly a Hobbit?” Emma signs, causing Alex to almost spit out the drink she was sipping. “I mean, she has what, four breakfasts?”

Alex cackles loudly and Emma smiles at the sound.

“What are you laughing at?” Kara asks as she super speeds into the room with the food perfectly balanced in her hands.

“Oh, we were just comparing you to a Hobbit.” Alex teases and grins at the blonde.

“Alex!” Kara looks outraged. “I do not have big, hairy feet!”

“It was Emma’s idea!” Alex motions at Emma.

“Emma!” Kara shifts her focus to her baby sister but Emma shrugs and grabs her pizza off the pile.

“I mean, she’s not wrong.” Alex says as she opens a tub of potstickers for Emma and her to share.

“Alex!” Kara yells outraged.

“Kara!” Alex yells mockingly back.

“Emma!” The blonde signs and the trio start laughing. Alex rests her forehead against the side of Emma’s face. Emma turns her head to nuzzle Alex’s and smiles when she feels Kara lean over and hug both of them. Emma twists to place a kiss on Kara's shoulder.

Alex clears her throat and pulls away. “Shall we press play?”

Emma nods and grabs the remote, continuing the film.

The sisters watch the first film and immediately go into the second one, which to Emma, is her favourite. Especially the scenes with Arwen in.

When they get to the scene with Arwen talking to her father, Emma swallows deeply.

“There is still hope.” Arwen whispers back.

Emma’s stomach clenches at the words. Hope.

“Little one?” Kara turns to look at Emma, hearing her heartbeat changing.

Alex immediately grabs the remote to pause the film when she sees tears fill her sister's eyes and how Emma is desperately trying to hide them.

“No, I’m fine. Please continue the film.”

“Actually I need to use the bathroom!” Kara zips up and Alex pauses the film anyway.

She watches Emma closely as she rubs her eyes, trying to force away the tears. “Em? You know you can always tell me what’s going on? Right?”

Emma nods but doesn’t look Alex in the eye, knowing she’d break. “It was a hard session today, sorry.”

“Oh Em, please don’t apologise.” Alex says and pulls her sister into her lap, hugging her close. She feels Emma stiffen but slowly relaxes in her arms.

Kara comes back and Alex gives her a sad look.

“Everything okay?” She asks while sitting down next to them.

“It was a hard session.” Alex answers softly.

“Oh little one.” Kara places a gentle hand on Emma’s back and Emma can’t hold the tears back anymore as she buries her head into the crook of Alex’s shoulder.

Alex and Kara sadly gaze at each other, unsure what they can say or do as they listen to Emma’s hard breaths and sniffs.

Kara swallows and shuffles closer, hugging Emma’s back. “We got you little one, you're safe.” Kara feels Emma shift and move her hand over her shoulder to grab a hold of hers.

They don’t know how long they stay in this position but Kara and Alex do not move until Emma feels ready. They whisper words of love and encouragement and hope she hears them.

Suddenly Kara’s head snaps to the apartment door as she hears two sets of footprints approach. The door opens before she can do anything as Sam and Lena walk through. They both halt at the sight of the sisters.

“What's wrong?” Sam whispers quietly as she places the takeaway food on the coffee table and goes to Alex’s side, perching on the edge of the sofa.

“Hard session.” Alex answers softly and kisses Sam’s lips.

“Has she mentioned anything else?” Lena asks quietly and watches as Emma immediately lifts her head up and twists her neck to find her. Lena swallows as she sees the tears streaming down Emma’s reddened cheeks, her eyes puffy and bloodshot. “Oh love.” Lena says brokenly and goes to comfort her girlfriend, but halts as she doesn’t know where she can go.

Kara immediately moves out of the way, allowing Lena to sit next to Alex and hug Emma’s back. But Emma has other ideas as she twists and moves her upper body onto Lena and holds her close, burying her head into Lena’s neck but her lower half stays on Alex’s lap.

“We got you love.” Lena soothes while stroking Emma’s damp hair and back. She feels Kara scoot close and Lena signals that Kara can join the hug. Immediately Kara wraps an arm around Lena and places a hand gently on Emma’s lower back.

The four women quietly console the broken woman in between them and each other. Wishing nothing more than to heal Emma’s pain.

In time Emma loses steam and slowly lifts her head from the crook of Lena’s neck and sniffs heavily.

“Hi love.” Lena says gently and Emma nuzzles their foreheads together and breathes deeply.

Emma feels truly exhausted, not having cried like that in weeks, well, since she found out about her paralysed vocal chords.

“Is this the time though?” Emma’s ear picks up Alex quietly whispering to Sam.

“Maybe it will make her happy?” Sam offers back, making Emma turn her head towards the couple.

“What will make me happy?” Emma sloppily signs and Kara shifts so she can see the couple too. A small smile gracing her lips.

“Well, erm…” Alex pauses. “I’ve found I’m not really living here anymore because I’m mainly around Sam's apartment.”

“So, we’ve decided that Alex will move in with Ruby and I.” Sam finishes with a huge grin.

Emma blinks and her eyes dart around Alex’s apartment. She had noticed little trinkets and items missing but thought nothing of it.

“Congratulations!” Kara yells happily and jumps to her feet to hug her sister and Sam.

“Thanks Kara.” Alex hugs Kara back and turns back to Emma, who still looks like she’s processing. “Em?”

She watches as Emma’s eyes refocus and a small smile tugs at the corner of her right lip. She lifts her hands and holds one hand with the other and firmly shakes them. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks Em.” Alex smiles back.

“And, you can totally come crash at ours anytime, use the spare room and have sister nights.” Sam smiles at Emma and Kara.

“Well, not ANY-time.” Alex burrows her nose into her girlfriend’s cheek and Sam blushes and bites her lip.

Emma raises an eyebrow and smirks at Lena. She takes a shuddering deep breath as her body calms down from her breakdown.

“Do we want to finish the film and watch the third one another time?” Kara asks while looking through the takeout bags.

Missing the way Emma whips around to gape at her.

“But then it's not a movie marathon!”

“Kara.” Lena says to get the alien’s attention out of the bag containing burgers and french fries.

“Hmm?” Kara’s eyes are wide as she looks to see what her best friend wants.

“Emma was signing to you.”

“Sorry little one.” Kara says apologetically.

“But then it's not a movie marathon.”

“I agree!” Kara nods and shoves some french fries in her mouth. “Shall we get comfy?!”

“I need to pee.” Emma signs and carefully moves off her sister and girlfriend. But as she takes a step away from them the world morphs around her.

‘Please! Not now!’ Emma’s mind yells and she tries to halt her step, ultimately causing her to trip over her own feet.

“Wow careful Em!” Alex laughs. “Rao you are getting more clumsy than Kara!”

“Hey!” Kara yells back offended, making Lena and Sam chuckle in response.

Emma smiles back at them but moves cautiously to the bathroom door.

“Did she mention anything else?” Emma hears Lena ask as soon as she closes the bathroom door.

“No, she’s been quieter than normal.” Alex sighs heavily, making Emma’s heart clench.

“Like she wasn’t here.” Kara agrees.

“Well therapy sessions can be tough sometimes and it’s good Emma is obviously opening up.” Sam tries to reassure the group while plating up everyone's food.

Emma tries not to listen but her ears can’t help but pick up her loved one’s voices. She finishes what she is doing and washes her hands. Briefly pausing and leaning against the sink.

‘Should I tell them?’ Emma wonders and her eyes lift her to her distressed expression. Immediately she wipes her face and adopts a more neutral expression. ‘They have enough to deal with anyway.’

Suddenly she feels a piercing pain in her head. So severe that if she had her voice, Emma would have screamed out as she scrunches up her eyes. Emma then feels a droplet fall from her nose and her eyes shoot open. Her nose is bleeding. She quickly grabs some toilet paper to stem the flow. But, finds nothing more comes out, the nosebleed seemingly stops before it had even begun.

Confused, Emma repeatedly wipes at her nose a few times to make sure it had indeed stopped.

‘Weird.’ Emma mutters in her mind as she stares down at the blood on the tissue. Her head tilts as she assesses the colour and her eyebrows knit together.

“Emma?” Sam’s muffled voice calls through the door, making Emma recoil away from it. “Are you okay in there?”

Throwing the bloodied piece of tissue into the toilet, Emma flushes it, quickly washes her hands and moves towards the door, opening it to a concerned looking Sam.

“You okay?” She asks as her warm brown eyes seemingly studies the blonde in front of her.

Emma nods and gives her a small smile before moving past her to get back to the sofa.

Sam follows, watching Emma closely and sits on Alex’s turquoise chair. Emma hesitates, not sure where she can sit due to the sofa looking full with her sisters and Lena already on it.

“There’s room for you on here too, it will be a tight squeeze but I think we can manage.” Lena pats the small gap between her and Alex. Emma carefully wedges herself between the two and gratefully takes the plate Kara hands to her. Already feeling a bit hungry.

“Ready?” Alex asks while grabbing the remote.

“Ready!” Sam and Kara yell back and the room is again filled with the sights and sounds of Middle Earth.

-- -- --

Later that night Kara, Emma and Lena glide through the air towards Lena’s apartment.

“I mean, why couldn’t Gandalf have just got the Eagles to fly Frodo and the ring to Mount Doom?” Kara argues with Lena while Emma listens and smiles, enjoying the debate between the two.

“Because they are their own beings plus Sauron had the Fellbeast and the Nazgûl would have seen the eagles coming!”

“Huh, I guess. But! Then why didn’t the fellowship prepare for that? Have a few more elves firing arrows? Problem solved!” Kara declares as they touch down on the balcony.

“If you say so, Kara.” Lena beams at her best friend as Kara gently places her feet on solid ground and Emma lets off her sister.

“Well, goodnight.” Kara opens her arms and hugs Lena tight before turning and giving Emma a hug too.

“Night.” Lena yawns out and opens the balcony door with Emma following behind her and waving goodbye to Kara.

They get ready for bed together and Lena can’t help but notice the far off look in Emma’s eyes. Like her girlfriend was somewhere else.

When they slide into bed, Lena gently takes Emma’s hand and lies on her side to fully look at her girlfriend.

“Hey.” Lena gently whispers.

Emma slowly turns her head and her eyes focus on concerned green ones.

“Are you okay?”

Swallowing deeply Emma turns to lie on her side to face Lena. Her mind races with what to communicate. Should she tell her everything?

“Love, please don’t lie to me.” Lena says, seeing the clogs working in Emma’s mind, and the worry within her eyes. But suddenly Lena is yawning again. “Sorry.” She blinks and widens her eyes more to keep them open.

Emma gives her a small smile and watches her closely. ‘She’s exhausted. Tell her a half truth.’

“I’m nervous about next week.”

“That’s understandable. But we are all with you.” Lena nuzzles her forehead against Emma’s and gently kisses her lips. Her hand slowly trails down Emma’s body.

But Emma pulls back and her smile widens slightly. “Time for sleep.”

“But I want to make you feel good.” Lena yawns out, even though her eyelids start drooping from exhaustion. Emma slowly reaches out and softly runs the back of her finger down the bridge of Lena’s nose.

“No sleep.” Lena whines but feels her eyes closing anyway and a tender kiss being placed against her lips. “Lve yu.”

Emma squeezes Lena’s hand three times and watches her girlfriend fall into a deep, peaceful sleep. She stays there for a while, admiring how serene and stunning the raven haired beauty looks.

Slowly Emma rolls over, picks up her notebook and pencil and faces Lena again. She sits up against the headboard so she can sketch Lena, wanting to capture the moment and take in every detail of her love.

Once her task was done Emma places her things on the bedside table.

“Hope, can you turn the lights off please?” Emma signs and carefully slides down the bed to lay back down. Emma closes her eyes and breathes deeply, willing herself to go to sleep.

But in the dark, sinister voices start playing through her mind. Digging up her fears and dread.

Emma blows a frustrated breath through her nose and turns back towards Lena, opening her eyes to focus on the raven haired beauty. Emma’s breathing becomes heavy as she tries to stay calm, but ultimately her stomach clenches and thoughts begin pouring in of what will be happening this time next week. What will the outcome be of the surgery? Will it succeed?

As if sensing Emma’s distress in her sleep, Lena shuffles closer to her girlfriend and latches on. Unknowingly calming Emma down and relieving the ache in her heart. Emma gently kisses Lena’s head, pushing aside her fears and worries before closing her eyes, to fall into a peaceful sleep.

(Part Thirty Four)

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