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hwavsg4ch4n · 3 years

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CURIOSITY ||H.H

Note: This was not on my schedule, at all lol. I wanted to post this for v-day but I got vv busy :(. I'm posting it now as a present to all of you for being so patient with me, it's very much appreciated! Also I now how 260+ followers! thank you all for liking my work. And thank you to my close friends that never let me run out of Ideas, (also happy belated to Hyunjin lol.)

Warnings/tags: femdom!reader, Sub!Hyunjin, use of bondage, edging, use of toys, handjob, oral, teasing, prasing, pet names, dumbafication, mentions of saliva, orgasam (both), making out, dacraphilic themes, impied sadism, big ejaculation, aftercare, mentions of other members, cursing, use of color system, i guess theres coprution (kinda), subspace

this is fiction, not real

Decription: In which Hyunjin's curiosity got him a place he'd never think he'd find himself.

note pt.2: I made this with the purpose of being intnse, I wanted to try writting like this as a warmup because I have an idea for something, feedback would be nice

“I-Ive Never done this before.” He stuttered, pulling on the thick rope.

How did this happen? How did you end up straddling your close friend in bright red lingerie as he looked up at you helplessly, red ropes sitting tight on his silky skin, tying him to the grand headboard.

It was honestly very simple. “Do people really do this shit?” Hyunjin asked, throwing popcorn in his mouth as you, him, as well as the rest of the guys sat around and watched 50 shades of gray.

Why were the lot of you watching that? Minho wanted you all you see Hyunjin blush at the sexual acts he was honestly scared of. Free amusement.

“Yeah, people do this stuff all the time Hyun.” Chan answered his question swiftly, drinking from his cup of apple juice. You nodded along, “Some of my friends even do it to their boyfriends, vise versa too.” Hyunjin raised his brows, slightly intrigued by the information, but decided not to ask further.

He thought about what you said all week, even imagining himself being the one tied up. A satin blind fold covering his eyes as the sensation of a flogger overwhelmed him. But that part of his imagination didn’t weird him out, it was the fact that you were the one he imagined doing things to him.

You seemed to know your fair share of bdsm, he couldn’t help but fill that dom spot in his mind, with you. Wondering if you were a Master or Mommy type of person. Maybe you were a part of that rare group of doms that liked to be called the cutest of pet names.

Listening to your sub plea as they called you baby, maybe even princess if that's what you wanted. He wanted to know your policies, what your favorite knots were when you were conducting a bondage scene. Hyunjin even wanted to know what safe words you used.

In order to know all of this information, he had to ask. But it wasn’t fun enough for you if you just had to tell him. Therefore you offered to show him.

Now here Hyunjin was, his dark hair clinging to his forehead as nervous beads of sweat formed. Stuttering with anxiety as he looked up at you in anticipation.

You didn’t even do anything. All you did was tell him to strip down to his boxers, very sweetly actually, not starting the scene as of yet; but he was already flustered. Seeing as how you answered the door in black silky robe, light makeup and maroon lipstick.

You tied him to the bed, using red yarn, checking in as you tied the knots securely. “You okay?” You asked softly, he hummed back. “H-how do you know how… I mean like… where did you learn… to do tha- this.” You giggled at his stammering, finishing the last knot on his chest before grabbing a box from under your bed.

“You’d be surprised what you can find on YouTube Hyunjin.” You chuckled softly, opening the box but not pulling anything out, accept for a long wand looking device. You looked up at him, giving a comforting smile as you placed the object of your night stand.

“Before we start, let’s go over some things.” He nodded back, listening attentively. “You told me you were okay with bondage, are you still okay? How do you feel so far?” You asked calmly.

“I feel fine.” He let out, staring at the box that you sat on his stomach. “You said you want to experiment, is there anything that’s a big no?” You asked gently. Hyunjin thought for a second, “uhm, nothing… in my bu-tt, please?” You nodded. “Anything else? Don’t be shy.” He gulped, “Can you call me baby? If that’s okay?” You smiled softly at his request, “That’s more than okay.”

"I'm not going to hit you Hyunjin, not this time anyway, I just wanted to make that clear." You gave him a soft smile. Hyunjin’s lips parted as you slid off your robe, climbing off the bed and straddling him. “If you want to stop, say red, if you need to slow down, say yellow, when I ask you if you’re okay, and you feel fine, say green. Simple enough?” He nodded.

It was becoming real, as he tugged on the rope that bound his hands to the headboard and realized he could barely move. This is when he grew slightly nervous, stuttering and rambling on about his inexperience in this type of field.

You cooed, tracing your manicured hands down his naked torso, tracing the rope every now and then, watching his abs stiffen as your nails dig in softly. “We can stop anytime you want, just say the word.” You reassured him.

He nodded, trying to calm his breath as your fingers danced across his chest. “What’s your color, Hyun?” You ask, “G-green.” You smile at his fast learning skills. “Good boy,” He gulps at the unfamiliar praise. "Do you like being called that? Your dick twitched." His face heated, "I-I'm sorry."

You chuckled, "No need to apologize, baby. It feels nice under me." Hyunjin stammered, his lids fluttering as you spoke to him, words he'd never imagine you saying. "Uhm, Y-Y/n, uh. C-can I know what's first? Please?" You smiled at him, admiring his pink cheeks and curious eyes.

"Well... I just wanna touch you for a while, hm?" You climbed off his lap, telling him to lift his hips up as you pulled down his boxers. You grinned as you finally witnessed his size. "Look at you, who knew you'd be hiding all of this. You have such a pretty dick, baby." He wanted to cower away, feeling so exposed as you complimented him with ease. But he didn't, wanting to have a smooth experience.

Your fingers grazed over his length, “When I compliment you, you say thank you.” he gulped dryly, "T-thank you." You cooed softly, watching pre cum form at his tip. You couldn't hold in a mischievous grin as he shuddered, feeling you tap at his arousal, spreading it across his length. His eyes instinctively shut, feeling your fingers explore him expertly.

You let a full smile spread across your face as you continued to spread his arousal. "Hyunjin, baby," you muttered, your eyes never leaving his expression. "Y-Yes?" He grunted, pressing his lips together, trying to conceal embarrassing sounds. "Open your eyes." You commanded. His eyes opened, followed by a breathy: "Oh fuck," watching as you let a string of saliva fall from your mouth, landing on his tip. Your tongue sticking out as you looked nowhere else but him.

"You listen to me so well." You praised, gathering the access from your mouth and spreading it around his shaft. "I wonder how this will make you feel." Hyunjin felt his muscles tense. You giggle as he let out a whine, responding to your cupped palm rubbing over his tip in circular motions.``M-mu.. T-too m-much, y-y/n..." He groaned, pulling on the rope that bound him.

You couldn't help but part your lips admiration, never thinking you'd get to see him like this. Having Hyunjin as a close friend was hard for someone like you, someone who had eyes and hormones. There were times you were planning on asking him to hook up just for the hell of it; take matters into your own hands. But lucky for you, Hyunjin was too curious for his own good.

His hips tensed, more pre cum bubbling at the surface as tears pricked his eyes, the urge to make fat tears run down his face is what edged you on.

The flustered boy sighed heavily as your palm left his sensitive tip. You watched silently as he took in deep breaths, his chest heaving as his member twitched and throbbed, his arousal sticking to his stomach.

“So, so pretty.” He trembled at the sound of your voice, his eyelids fluttering as you placed a hand on his bare chest, trailing down gently before taking a hold of his shaft. “How do you feel, baby?” You asked gently, looking into his hooded eyes as you made yourself even more comfortable. “I- uhm… I don’t know.” you tilted your head, “You don’t know?” You tsked, tapping your index finger on his tip as you thought of a response, completely ignoring the shuddering whimpering man under you. “I guess I have to step my game up, hm?” You asked, smiling at him.

Hyunjin began to feel a slither of fear, therefore he confessed how he felt. “It's good, but... I-I’m kinda sc-scared.” You grinned, but it wasn’t the comforting grin Hyunjin was used to, it seemed as if you were happy he was anxious for what’s next to come. “Aww, baby,” Hyunjin bit his lip as he watched you lean down, your face right next to his length as you began to softly pump.

He's forgotten about containing his volume, it was an overwhelming feeling, getting teased this way, being spoken down to by someone he's always played pranks on. “Ah, ah, ahhh… oh my god.” He could hear your little chuckles in response to his groans, his eyes closed involuntarily. “Hey, Hey, Hey.” His hips jumped out of surprise, bucking and squirming as he felt rather hard taps to his tip. “Eyes on me, don’t make me have to tell you again.” He nodded absented, “I’m sorry.” He mumbled.

Hyunjin made the effort to keep his eyes open, but it was hard. You kissed along the veins of his shaft, sucking and licking here and there, it drove him mad, how you looked up at him, like you couldn’t do anything but good. He found it unbelievable, considering you tied him to a bed in less than 10 minutes, with countless lines of rope littered across his chest to prove your skills.

You gave him long licks, enjoying his sighs, but you soon got bored, you wanted even more. Therefore, you took him in your mouth without warning, humming at the taste of him, slightly gagging as he bucked. “Y-Y/N!” He yelped, shocked by the sudden movement.

You sucked, slurping as you bobbed your head how you wanted it, not how he wanted it; he seemed to like it just fine. Hyunjin didn’t know if it was - what felt like- the eternity of teasing, or your mouth feeling like it was sent from the god’s, but his record of being able to hold out was broken.

“Uh- y/n- I gonna, I’m… fuck fuck.” You chuckled at his inability to speak properly. The only words you thought were, “This is gonna be so much fun.”

You didn’t think Hyunjin could beg like this, tears pouring down his face as you grind your soaked core on his bare length. “You’re so cute Hyun,” You breathed out, only to be answered with more whimpers.

You’ve brought him to bliss 5 times already, but never did you grant him a release. After the third denial he started to pout, eyes glossing over as his cheeks turned red, his locks scattered all over his face as he blabbed about everything and nothing all at once. You thought he’d had enough, ready to let him cum. But he refused, shaking his head, “G-re- green, green.” He panted.

Hyunjin watched you with a tear stained face as you brought yourself to your second orgasm of the night, grinding on his member as all he could do with whimper, thanking you for even giving him the time of day.

You let out a euphoric laugh, throwing your head back before looking back down at him. Staring at his lips with nothing but lust, “Oh baby boy,” Hyunjin throbbed against your core as you called him the term of endearment. “I haven’t kissed you all night, i’m so sorry hyun.” He couldn’t think straight, only thinking about how your lips would feel on his, he fumbled over his words. “K-kiss, kiss me, I wanna kiss.” His pouty lips puckered, begging to be used by you.

“So fucking cute.” You murmured, leaning down and engulfing his plush lips with your own. His technique was messy, it was never this messy, but considering it felt like he was in a void of endless pleasure, you cut him some slack.

“I have one more thing for you.” You whispered against his lips, reaching over to your nightstand and grabbing the vibrating wand before sitting up, resting on his thighs that became slick with your arousal.

You watched his eyes widen with curiosity. Hyunjin flinched as you turned it on, his lips parted while listening to the loud vibrations. He’s never used one of those before, he didn’t think they’d work for him, thinking it could only pleasure women.

He was wrong, Hyunjin let out the loudest moans of the night as you rubbed the vibratior along his length, his abdomen was puddled with pre-arousal as it seeped from him. He felt that feeling again, the feeling of nirvana bubbling up, coming like electric shocks. He tried to voice it, let you know what was happening, but all you did was go up a setting. You thought you’d cum untouched due to the sight before you, with his arms hung above his head tied by red rope, his hips bucked into the toy dumbly, his eyes rolled to the back of his head as his mouth was agape, letting out the most lewd sounds a man could make.

You knew he was close, even if he didn’t ask this time you let him cum, but no he was too good. Hyunjin pulled whatever sanity he had left, stuttering out to you “Cu-cum! Cum!?” You laughed at his attempt at getting permission. “Go ahead baby.”

You watched your close friend convulse underneath you, trying to turn and dig his face into the pillow to silence himself as thick ropes of cum shot out of him, far enough that some laid across his sweaty chin. His eyes rolled back as it spilled from his tip like a stream, shuddering as the vibration rode him through it. "Th-thank you, thank you." you whispered on instinct.

“Wow,” You mutter, turning off the vibratior. His member throbbed, spilling the last bits he had left as you watched him try to regulate his breathing. You were amazed, “You must’ve been backed up, huh? So much, you dirtied yourself, Hyun.” You say, not expecting a response.

"I- I can cl-clean it... I-" You shushed him, smiling as he looked up at your with twinkling eyes. "Relax." You stated.

You got off him, wiping yourself off as well as him, swiftly untying the rope; rubbing the areas that will be sore later. With gentle touches, you pushed the hair out his face. “Hyunjin, you have to take a bath.” You grinned as he shook his head stubbornly, eyes being kept closed. “Why not, hm?” You asked, getting a towel from your closet. “Cause, ‘m tired.” He mumbled, placing his arm over his face, hoping to hide from you. “Well, you can be tired after you take a bath, come on.”

Hyunjin rested his head on your bare chest, messing with the bubbles in the warm bath you ran; it was only supposed to be for him, but he demanded you stay. You didn't think his subspace would be so apparent, but you didn't mind taking care of him.

After a while of comfortable stillness, he spoke. “Y/n?” You hummed back, running a hand through his hair. “Can you teach me how to do that to you this time?” Seem's like he came to his senses.

honorable mentions: thank you to my close friend for giving me this idea <3

#skz hyunjin #skz smut #skz imagines #stray kids #skz fluff #skz au #skz hard thoughts #hwang hyunjin #skz scenarios #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin

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slapshot-to-the-heart · 4 years

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Breakable Heaven (pt. IV) - p.l. dubois

part I part II part III

Oh my gosh, I seriously can’t believe this little series has come to an end. I’m so so happy with how it’s turned out, and want to thank anyone who’s stuck with Laurel and Pierre-Luc throughout this month. It’s one of my favorite things I’ve ever done, and it’s yours to enjoy now. Please please let me know what you think of this part, what you think about the series - getting anon comments is amazing, my inbox is always open, and I LOVE reading tags. Reblog if you like what I’m putting out, it helps me know that!

Warning: Smut (It’s light, but it’s there, so no one under 18 please!)

Part IV (7.8k)

September 23 (thurs)

Laurel was running through the Toronto airport, her carry-on bag bouncing on the tile behind her as she frantically searched for her gate. Thank God Air Canada domestic flew from the international terminal; her layover was only an hour and ten minutes and even more time had been shaved off by a departure delay in Montréal. She had forgotten that flights from Toronto cleared U.S. Customs in Canada, and if she hadn’t been able to skip the line and slap her American passport on a kiosk reader she would have almost certainly missed her connection.

No matter how many times Laurel had tried to insist on an economy ticket when she and Pierre were booking flights for her visits, he refused to cave. “They don’t include a checked bag in economy, but they do if you fly business,” he had said, shrugging, with a small smile on his face. “Baggage fees alone would make it pretty much a wash.” Laurel doubted that, and she doubted that she’d need a checked bag for a four-day trip, but her husband had made it clear that he wasn’t budging.

So needless to say, she was more than a little bit out of breath as she finally arrived at Gate F66, which was conveniently almost as far away from her arrival gate as humanly possible while still being in the same terminal. She handed her boarding pass and passport to the gate agent, smiling apologetically as she hurried down the jetbridge. It was barely past noon, but there was nothing in the world Laurel wanted more than to sleep. Maintaining a full-time schedule at the hospital while also trying to organize a trip to Columbus that lasted more than two days meant she had to switch shifts. Normally, that wouldn’t be an issue; that week, however, the only open slot was the 12-hour overnight shift on Wednesday. Which meant that she’d been awake for some twenty hours straight, but almost all of that had been on her feet at work, or walking from the parking lot to the check-in counter in Montréal, or running through the halls of Pearson Airport in Toronto. She took her seat, half-listened to the safety briefing, and passed out as soon as her head hit the headrest.

Much to her chagrin, the flight itself was only just over an hour, and she was really only able to get in a generous nap before their descent into Ohio. Sitting in the second row, she exited the plane in record time, flicking her phone off of airplane mode and waiting for a text from Pierre-Luc. At least she didn’t have to go through TSA again. He wrote back in record time, letting her know he’d be in his car at the curb right outside the terminal. She waited at baggage claim, grabbing her forest green suitcase; the same one she had when she’d moved to Toronto for university, fresh-faced and 18 and so, so unaware of what the world had in store for her. If only she could see herself now. Laurel ran her thumb along the side handle for a moment, pulling at a loose thread, before hefting it onto the floor and turning towards the sliding exit doors.

As promised, Pierre was waiting right outside the door, flashing her a bright smile and throwing the driver’s side door open as soon as he saw her. “Welcome to Columbus, babe!” he exclaimed, wrapping Laurel into a deep hug and kissing her on the cheek.

She laughed as the trunk popped open, each of them grabbing a suitcase. “It’s a little bit funny, don’t you think? That I’ve lived in the Midwest for almost my whole life and the first time I go to Ohio it’s because I’m living in Canada?”

“Maybe just a little bit,” Pierre said, holding his thumb and pointer finger about an inch apart. “I’m really happy you were able to come, though, Laurel. I got used to having you around.” His face was softer now, looking over at Laurel with an expression that wasn’t quite placable but seemed like it was somehow communicating so much in a single glance.

“Me too,” Laurel replied. The ride to Pierre’s Columbus apartment took just over ten minutes, and Laurel was in the door, petting the dogs, before the clock struck 3:00.

Pierre approached her from behind, his hands on her shoulders as he leaned around to kiss her on the cheek. “You want to take a nap?” he asked. “We’ve got that thing with the team at 7, and I know you’re probably running on fumes right now.”

Laurel nodded, giving him a weary smile, dropping her bag on the floor of the master bedroom with an all-too-satisfying thump. “Nap sounds good.”

---

The nap was good, so good, and Laurel woke up at half past 6 feeling like she’d just had the best sleep of her life. She yawned, rubbing her eyes, and looked around the room to see Pierre with his back towards her, buttoning up his shirt. He turned around, catching her eye, and grinned. “You like the view?” he asked, gesturing to his half-naked torso.

Laurel rolled her eyes, pulling the sheets up to poorly conceal her embarrassment at being caught. “And if I do?”

She heard a loud laugh, peeking her head out from under. “I’d say my wife has every right to appreciate it.” He walked around the bed while fastening the last few buttons, holding his hand out for Laurel to take. “I let you sleep as long as I could, but we’re going to have to get going in fifteen minutes or so. I was told that ‘we’ve waited this long to meet her, the least you could do is get your damn wife to the party in time,’” he said, adding air quotes for emphasis.

Laurel nodded, tossing back the covers and walking over to her suitcase, intending to rifle through the stacks of clothes to find something for the night’s festivities. Instead, she was greeted by an empty bag. She wheeled around to look at Pierre, who was sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck as he stared at her suitcase. “I unpacked your stuff,” he said, nodding over towards the spare dresser. “It’s in there. I’m sorry if that seems weird and I won’t do it again if you feel like that was pushing your boundaries, but I know for me when I’m on roadies I like to unpack, even if it’s just one night. Makes it feel more like home.”

Laurel was too overcome with how sweet the gesture was, small as it may have been, to realize that that meant he had touched four days worth of bras and underwear. It shouldn’t have bothered him anyways, and if he hadn’t said anything about it, it clearly hadn’t. So instead, she pulled him into a warm hug, standing on her tiptoes to bury her face in the crook of his neck. “Thank you, P. One less thing I have to do.”

“You do still have to actually get dressed, though,” he added, giving her sleepwear an appreciative once-over. “Unless you’re planning on wearing that.”

She let out a giggle. “As much as I love wearing a massive Cloquet High Lumberjacks t-shirt and no pants, somehow I don’t think that’s the move,” she said, ambling over towards the dresser. She found the tops on the first try, pulling out a wine-colored wrap shirt and grabbing the same pair of light-wash jeans she had worn on the plane. Pierre moved to duck out of the room, presumably to give her privacy to change. Laurel made a split-second decision to call after him. “You don’t have to leave.” Pierre stopped in his tracks.

Laurel slipped the shirt on, tying it in the front, and fastened her jeans. Mascara on and booties zippered, and she was good to go. “So what is this thing, anyways?” she asked Pierre as they drove to Foligno’s house.

Pierre tilted his head. “Little bit of this, little bit of that. Half the typical beginning-of-the-year preseason party, half the wedding reception we never had. They were very insistent on bringing gifts, so be prepared.”

“Will do,” she said, laughing. “And by they, you mean…”

“Some of the guys, but mostly the wives and girlfriends. Their parties are the stuff of legends, so you can imagine how excited everyone was when I told them we never had a proper reception.”

“But they don’t know why we didn’t have a proper party,” Laurel reminded him.

“About that…” Pierre started, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

Laurel froze, her thumb hovering over her phone screen, halfway through composing a text to Kristen. “Pierre,” she swallowed, her voice deadly soft, “did you tell someone?”

---

It was the Saturday before, and the team had gone out to celebrate the end of the first week of training camp. Sunday was an off day, so Saturday night found all the over-21s — and anyone who could get a good enough fake — at a bar in the city. Pierre had just crossed the line into tipsy, and as his captain was about to find out, tipsy Pierre was an oversharer. It was common enough for families to be a topic of discussion on nights out or in the locker room; that wasn’t the issue. The issue was that, as the old adage goes, drunk words are sober thoughts. And, if he was being honest, Pierre was still harboring some guilt from having to hide the truth of his and Laurel’s marriage from everyone, Nick included. Pierre hated that he couldn’t tell Nick the truth. He was his captain and his friend, and he felt the least he owed to him was not to lie.

“It’s just so weird being away from Laurel, away from Montréal, for this long,” Pierre sighed.

“Sure,” Nick said sympathetically, “but you said you’d been friends for a few years, so you’ve had feelings for her for a while, no? It’s obviously not ideal, but you’ve been away from her for longer.”

Pierre turned towards Nick, some of his beer — his fourth of the night — spilling out of the cup. “Can I tell you a secret?”

Nick rolled his eyes, thinking he was going to be hearing some dumb high school confession, that he had asked out a senior girl when he was a freshman, or filled his QMJHL captain’s gloves with shaving cream or something. He didn’t expect what he heard next.

“We got married so she could stay in the country, for her permanent residency. I never met her before June.”

Nick sucked in a breath. “You’re not fucking with me, are you?”

“Nope.”

“You realize how much trouble you guys could get into if they figure out, right?” he asked.

Pierre nodded, looking down at his clasped hands nervously. “We both do. But you’re not going to tell anyone, right?”

“No, of course not,” Nick said. “I trust you, and I know you and Laurel were just doing what you thought was the best and most logical thing given the circumstances.” Pierre let out a somber nod. “But,” he continued, “I feel like this whole...situation just leaves open the opportunity for things to get really messy really quickly.”

“Messy how?” Pierre asked.

Nick shifted uncomfortably in his chair, looking at a spot just beyond Pierre’s head. He didn’t want to, not really, but it was his job as Pierre’s captain — more importantly as his friend — to make him consider every angle. “Someone catching feelings, one of you falling for the other, or God forbid, someone else. There’s already so much at stake in a ‘normal’ marriage, but yours just has added complications.” Pierre felt a twinge in his heart. He didn’t want to admit it, he really didn’t want to admit it, but Nick was right. “Do you love her?” Nick asked softly.

Pierre sunk back into his chair. “I don’t know. She means a lot to me, more than I ever thought she would, but I don’t know. Plus, I have no clue how she feels about me, and I wouldn’t want to say something like that only to have her pull away.”

“Did you guys talk about that?” he asked.

“About what?” Pierre responded.

“About what would happen if one of you caught feelings. Because I’m assuming it was supposed to, is supposed to, be a strictly platonic thing.”

Pierre shrugged. “Not really. We didn’t like make a pact or anything, if that’s what you’re asking. We really didn’t talk much about it at all,” he said, finishing his beer. “I mean, obviously we agreed that we wouldn’t be seeing anyone else, dating or hooking up or anything like that. It was just too risky. But no, we never really addressed how we’d deal with it if one of us ended up...falling for each other. I guess it was just supposed to be a ‘we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it’ type of thing.”

“And have you come to it?” Nick asked.

“I don’t know.”

---

Pierre finished the story, hazarding a glance over to Laurel, who was wringing her hands as she looked out the windshield. “I’m not mad at you,” she said finally. “If Nick said he wouldn’t tell, I trust you when you say he won’t. One of us was bound to let it slip eventually.”

He turned his eyes back towards the road, still feeling a pang of regret. She was almost being too good to him. “We’ll be okay,” he said, saying it just as much to himself as he did to her.

Laurel gave him a small smile as they pulled into the Foligno’s house, parking on the stone-paved driveway. “We will be.”

Janelle opened the door practically the second after they knocked, greeting Pierre and Laurel with warm hugs. “Laurel, it’s so wonderful to finally meet you,” she said, squeezing her hand. “We know how hard it is to find the time off and make the trip down, and everyone’s excited to see you.” She led them through the entryway to the living room, where Laurel was passed around to some twenty-odd players and their partners, where she introduced herself over and over again as “Pierre’s wife, yes the nurse from Minnesota who none of you knew existed.”

Dinner was a barbeque outside, Nick, Pierre, and some of the others manning the three grills as Laurel helped set up the drinks table. He held her hand under the table as they ate, his thumb gently rubbing across her thigh every so often in reassurance. “You good?” he murmured in his ear as Laurel sipped a beer, half-listening to some story Korpi was telling about a near-miss incident with a water ski back in Finland during the summer.

Laurel nodded, squeezing his fingers. “I’m good.”

Plates were cleared, dishes were washed, and everyone was herded into Nick and Janelle’s enormous family room, where a small mountain of wrapped boxes and bags sat in the far corner. “I don’t know if you know this,” Janelle said conspiratorially as Laurel sat down, “but NHLers make more than a little money.”

She laughed. “So I’ve been told.”

“Which means that, clueless though they may be, you’re going to be getting some very nice presents.”

And very nice presents they were. A wine club membership, a set of dutch ovens from Seth — “It was my mom’s suggestion” — Jones, an espresso machine from Boone, a set of matching, personalized dog bowls for Phil, Georgia, and Piper. Laurel honestly wasn’t sure how it was all going to fit in the car, let alone how she was going to manage to stay under the baggage limit on her way back to Canada, but the thought and kindness that went into each gift was what really made it special.

“From me and the other girls,” Janelle said, passing Laurel a bag.

“Oh, this is too much,” Laurel said. “You already got the knives and the mixer, I don’t need anything else.”

Cam’s wife, Natalie, shrugged. “Would it help if we made it, didn’t buy it?”

Laurel’s brow furrowed in confusion, her fingers moving to undo the ribbon that tied the handles together, taking out the tissue paper. “Oh!” she gasped quietly as she pulled out a denim jacket, a Blue Jackets logo ironed onto the back, Dubois embroidered where a name bar would be. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“You’re still a part of the family,” Natalie said, smiling. “Even if you’re not here all the time. We want you to feel as included as anyone else.”

Laurel folded up the jacket carefully, tucking it back in the bag as Josh walked up to Pierre, holding out a small box, clearly wrapped by himself. “Well now I just feel silly.”

Pierre shook his head, smiling at his friend. “Don’t, Josh. I’m sure we’ll love it.” He thumbed open the folds on the wrapping paper, setting it aside before pulling off the top of the box. He fell silent.

Laurel peeked over, trying to catch a glimpse of the box’s contents. “What is it, P?”

Instead of answering, Pierre just held the box upside-down. Condoms of all colors and sizes rained down onto the hardwood floor as Pierre stared at Josh, clearly trying very hard not to laugh. The side of his mouth twitched. “Interesting choice of gift, you don’t think?” he asked.

Josh shrugged helplessly, his cheeks red. “It’s practical?”

November 28 (sun)

Laurel caught every Blue Jackets game she could on the TV, even the ones in early November when Pierre was out for a few games with a mild concussion. She was his wife, but she was also a nurse, and made sure to get daily updates on his condition, restraining herself from FaceTiming him to help limit his amount of daily screen time. But he had been back for a few weeks, making second star of the night with a goal and an assist, so naturally he was pulled away for a few postgame interviews.

Laurel watched the screen, trying not to get distracted by the sweat drenching his Underarmour. Reporters, the good ones at least, were usually considerate with steering clear of asking personal questions, but sometimes an injury, or the birth of a child, or, as luck would have it, a wedding, begged an answer. “So, Pierre, I think a lot of us were surprised to see you announce on Instagram that you had gotten married this summer. Congratulations, by the way,” the journalist from the Dispatch said.

“Thanks,” Pierre replied, smiling.

“And I hope I speak for everyone here when saying that we entirely respect you and your wife’s decision to keep things quiet and announce it in a much more subdued fashion than usual. Players often speak a lot about how integral support from family and friends is, and just how important it is to have that kind of a support system in place.” Pierre could see where the question was going. “Obviously you’ve got the boys down here, but it doesn’t look like your wife Laurel is based in Columbus like you are. Is there a reason for that, and do you think that’s affected your game?”

Pierre sucked in a breath; it was a fair question, and a reasonable assumption to make, but that didn’t mean he liked answering it any more. But it was almost suspicious how quickly he had an answer. “Uh, yeah, it’s been interesting for us to have to navigate. You’re right, Laurel’s back in Montréal, she spends most of her time at our place in the city. She’s a nurse in the intensive care unit of CHU Saint-Justine, so she does pediatrics there. She loves what she does, and she’s so good at it, and it just wouldn’t be right of me to ever ask or expect her to leave on my account. I know we’ve got a great hospital at Nationwide Children’s, but she loves where she is. We both do. So yeah, it’s rough being away sometimes, but luckily she’s able to move shifts around and make it down twice a month or so when we’re not on the road. But we keep in contact daily, obviously, and I’m able to lean on the guys, especially the other married ones, on how to deal with the stress of being away for so long. But it’s rough. I miss my wife,” Pierre finished.

Laurel clicked the remote, turning the TV off, her hand scratching behind Piper’s ears, and tried not to replay his words in her mind as she crawled into bed and fell asleep.

December 18 (sat)

Laurel stumbled through the door of Pierre’s Columbus apartment, laughing breathlessly as she tried to lock the deadbolt. “You need some help there, L?” Pierre asked, raising one eyebrow.

“I’m good,” Laurel said, taking two more tries before it would actually lock. The eggnog from the Christmas party was starting to take its toll; Pierre had agreed to be the pair’s designated driver for the night, so she had had maybe a glass too many. The night had genuinely been so much fun, Laurel had initially been worried at how well she might fit in with the group in a more casual situation. As much as she loved being able to hang out with the team and the other WAGs when she was in Ohio — and she did — she couldn’t help but be nervous that she didn’t have the same level of camaraderie that could help turn a night from good to great. Laurel couldn’t have been happier to be wrong. She was embraced from the moment she walked in the door, a glass of wine pushed into her hand and her Secret Santa gift deposited on the entryway table.

Laurel used to always roll her eyes at the idea that “time flies when you’re having fun,” but that couldn’t have been more true for the party. It seemed like only minutes had passed, but suddenly it was almost midnight, and the couples with kids had to head home to relieve the babysitters, and Laurel and Pierre were headed home.

“Let’s get some water in you, no?” Pierre murmured, walking to the kitchen and opening the cupboard.

“Thanks,” Laurel said softly as she took the glass from him, kicking off her shoes and tucking her feet under her on the couch.

Pierre perched on the arm, absentmindedly playing with his watch. But while a tipsy Pierre was an oversharer, a tipsy Laurel was always emotional in one fashion or another. “How’d you like the party?”

“It was great,” Laurel said. “I’m not sure why Alexandre thought I’d be into a Blue Jackets scarf, but I guess it’s the thought that counts?” She pulled the offending object out of her bag, running her fingers through the fringe on the edge. “Seeing how amazing so many of those couples are, Janelle and Nick especially, it was awesome…” She trailed off. “But it was hard.”

His brow furrowed. Why would it be hard? “How so?”

“I always thought that, when I got married, it would be once and that was it.” She screwed her eyes shut. “And that’s not to mean I’m not grateful for what you’ve done, it’s so incredible and goes so far beyond just plain kindness. I just thought it would be a forever thing.”

Pierre’s heart dropped. Of course she’d feel like that. If marriage was something she wanted to take that seriously, how could she not feel like she was cheapening its meaning by treating it as nothing more than an arrangement of convenience? It wasn’t even like he felt any differently; hockey was obviously still his first priority most of the time, but he’d always seen himself as someone who wanted to settle down and have a family one day. He guessed that he just hadn’t let himself think about it. “Laurel,” he said quietly, reaching out to her. But she wasn’t done.

“It’s just,” Laurel sighed, one hand tugging on her hair, tears threatening to escape her eyes, “knowing this is all temporary. Knowing that in a couple of y-years, when I g-get my citizenship and we get d-divorced, this is all going to end,” she said, hiccuping through her words. “I won’t be able to come to your Christmas parties and fly down for games and sit up in the WAG box with my friends and that jacket and a jersey with your name on it. I won’t be able to do any of that any more because it wasn’t real, it wasn’t ever real, and that fucking kills me inside, P.” Laurel sat on the corner of the couch, a spot as precarious as the words tumbling out of her mouth.

“Why?” Pierre asked, even though if he was honest, he’d stake his career on the belief that he already knew the answer. “Why would it hurt so bad?” His voice was so quiet that if Laurel hadn’t been sitting two feet away, she wouldn’t have heard.

“Because I’m fucking in love with you,” she whispered. “And that’s the single most terrifying sentence I’ve ever said in my life.” Even though Pierre somehow knew that’s what she was going to say all along, it didn’t stop her words from stealing the breath out of his lungs. Laurel looked up at him through her tears, her eyes beginning to redden. “Say something, please, P.”

Pierre knelt in front of her, his thumb resting gently on her cheek, wiping away her tears. “God, Laur, how could I not be in love with you?” She blinked rapidly at him, trying to process the words that were coming out of his mouth. “I wasn’t lying when I said you were one of the most incredible people I’ve ever met. You’re so caring, not just for me, but for everyone in your life. You’d give a stranger the shirt off of your back. You’re probably the smartest person I know, way smarter than me.” A giggle escaped Laurel’s mouth. “The dedication you show to everything in your life is amazing. At your job, you treat every patient like they were your own sibling or your own child. You make the trip down to Columbus once a month, twice a month. That’s not easy, all the flight time and having to leave Piper and switching shifts around so we can see each other. You’re gorgeous, not just on the outside — though you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen — but the light in your eyes when you talk about a new book you read, or how happy you look when you let me taste a new recipe you’re trying, or how passionate you get when you see something wrong and know there’s something you need to do to change it. So what if we’re doing things a little backwards? First comes marriage, then comes love.” He leaned his forehead against hers. “I fell in love with you awhile ago. I think it just took me a second to realize it.”

January 26 (wed)

Laurel thought the distance and space between them would be easier now that she knew how he felt, now that they both knew how they felt. She couldn’t have been more wrong. So the All-Star break, and the Blue Jackets’ bye week, couldn’t have come at a better time. Pierre had made plans for the break a few months earlier, but after everything that happened over Christmas, it didn’t seem right to ditch Laurel for a boy’s trip with Alexandre and Seth. So Hilton Head was traded in for Saint Lucia, and his teammates were traded in for his wife. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Laurel was using three of her paid vacation days and Pierre was able to make the schedule work just right to get five nights in the Carribean. “A belated honeymoon, if you will,” he had said, cracking a grin over FaceTime as they booked the flights. The flight from Columbus was much less straightforward than hers from Montréal, but by a chance airline scheduling his first layover was in Toronto. Laurel met him at the gate, hauling her own green suitcase behind her as he flung his arms around her, kissing her with everything he had in him. They may have missed the not-so-subtle fans taking pictures that later circulated around Twitter that may or may not have led to some grade A chirping in the team’s group chat. But Pierre didn’t care. He cared that for a few days, he could forget about the stress of hockey and trying to make a playoff run and all the rumors floating around and just be with his wife. And, Pierre thought as they walked through the airport door into the Carribean sun, there really wasn’t anything else he wanted.

They hailed a taxi, the twenty minute drive to their resort rushing by in a blur of palm trees and seas so blue Laurel thought she could fall into them just by looking. Pierre jogged into the main office to check them in, coming back with their key cards before the taxi continued on its way, dropping them off in front of their villa. Laurel spun slowly as they got out of the car, smiling up at the sky as Pierre pressed a few bills into the taxi driver’s hand with a nod of thanks. “You okay there?” he asked with a grin.

“It’s so warm,” Laurel said in wonderment. Even in January, the weather in Saint Lucia hovered in the mid-70s, a far cry from the twenties and teens of a Montréal winter. Laurel was no stranger to the cold — Cloquet had seen temperatures pushing thirty below when Laurel was in high school — but the idea that she could be somewhere and wear shorts while it was snowing in her hometown was a concept so novel she hadn’t quite grasped it yet.

He nodded, looking at Laurel with a gaze so soft she thought her heart would maybe burst. “We’re in the Caribbean, L. It’s warm all the time.”

She rolled her eyes, bending over to get her suitcase, but not before Pierre snatched it up himself, holding the key card between two fingers. “Are you going to just stand there, or do you want to check out our honeymoon suite?” Laurel’s words dripped with suggestiveness, her sandal-clad feet dragging their way up the path to the villa with tantalizing languor.

“Coming.”

Even after the six months of their marriage, and even after everything that happened over the holidays, they hadn’t had sex. They’d gotten close a few times, both on her trip in December and in ones since, but never managed to go all the way. First Laurel needed a new birth control prescription — the last thing she would do would be have sex without being extra safe about it — and then she was too tired after a night out, and another time Pierre had scored a hat trick and they had partied way too hard to even think about sex. So needless to say, it had been a while for Laurel since she’d gotten release by any hands other than her own, and even longer for Pierre. And it certainly wasn’t because she didn’t want to. Laurel was well aware that her husband was hot as fuck, and she’d be lying if some of her lonelier nights weren’t filled with thoughts of exactly what she wanted him to do to her. But it felt different than any of her other relationships. Obviously, it felt different, she hadn’t been married to Oliver or Ryan or Carter. And that didn’t mean she wasn’t invested in those, but just that the stakes were so much higher and she had fallen so much harder for Pierre than she ever thought imaginable. She didn’t want to have sex with him until she was sure. Sure that it was going somewhere, sure that it would last, sure that he loved her in the same way that made her heart ache every time he dropped her off at Columbus International Airport.

---

By the time they had unpacked, eaten, and gotten a few rum punches in their system, it was well past 7 and the sun had long since set. Laurel peeked out the door onto their balcony, nodding at the private plunge pool. “We’ve got quite the setup here.”

She walked over to the dresser, grabbing a swimsuit out and crossing over to the bathroom, her hand hovering over the knob. “Just something to think about.” Pierre put his swim trunks on in record time. Laurel padded out of the bathroom, the top straps of her bikini dangling, the swell of her breasts peeking above the cups. “Do me up?” she asked.

Pierre’s fingers brushed the baby hairs at the base of her neck as he tied the straps of her white-hot bikini. “Sure you don’t want to go out to the beach?”

Their villa came with a stretch of beachfront, and it seemed like such a shame to let it go to waste. Laurel shook her head, a smile playing on the edge of her lips. “We’ve got a couple of days to enjoy the beach. I’d like to stay somewhere a little more...secluded.” She bit her lip as she opened the door to the balcony, dipping her toes in the pool and sighing at the warmth of the water. Laurel looked back at Pierre, one eyebrow raised. “You coming?” Pierre couldn’t follow fast enough.

They stayed in the water for a while, lazily kissing and staring at the stars and sipping drinks that had lost their potency hours ago, but neither of them really cared much. Sometime during the night, Laurel had made her way onto Pierre’s lap, where she reached over to the balcony, lofting herself out of the pool and wrapping a scarf around her body. “Getting a little cold,” she said, bending down and giving him a soft kisss. She walked into the room, drying herself off; he followed. Laurel threw the towel over a chair in the corner of the room, walking over towards Pierre, stopping when their noses were almost touching.

Laurel’s wrap fell from her shoulders, pooling on the wood floor. Pierre’s hand skated up her arm to rest on her cheek. He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. She stood on her tiptoes as her left hand tangled in his hair, her right pressed against the back of his neck. She whimpered into his mouth; it took everything in Pierre’s power to keep the blood from rushing south. The kiss got more frantic, tongue and teeth clashing against each other as he walked her back to the bed. The back of her knees bumped up against the edge.

Pierre pulled away slightly, letting out a moan as he saw Laurel’s face. Her lips were puffy from kissing, her chest heaving with the force of her breath, and her wild hair had long since been taken out of its ponytail. In other words, Pierre was convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that Laurel, in that moment, was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. “You sure you want to do this?” Pierre murmured. He wanted to. God, he wanted to. But he’d never do anything without making sure that she was absolutely comfortable. Laurel nodded, biting her lip. “I need to hear you say it, babe,” Pierre said, taking a step forward, their noses almost touching.

“I want you to ruin me.”

Pierre audibly groaned, capturing her lips in his before throwing her back on the bed, his hand moving to her back to undo the tie of her bikini top as his lips trailed down her neck. He threw the top off to one side, paying exactly zero attention to where it landed, as his hands slid up her waist to cup her breasts, his thumbs ghosting over her sensitive nipples. Laurel’s breath hitched in her throat. “You like that, baby?”

“Mhm,” Laurel whimpered, unable to form a complete sentence.

He smirked, lowering his mouth to her chest, flicking his tongue over her right nipple as his hand pinched her left. The air was filled with breathless sighs from them both until Pierre’s hands left her breasts. Laurel whined in protest until she felt his fingers toying with her bikini bottoms, his head lifting just enough so that his eyes could meet hers. “This okay?”

It was all Laurel could do to choke out a single word. “Please.”

Pierre pulled them down her legs, kissing down, down to her hips, down to her inner thighs, down to everywhere except for where she needed him. “You need something, Laurel?” Pierre asked, his voice dripping with sex.

Laurel groaned, not wanting to give in but also knowing that Pierre could stay where he was for hours if it meant teasing her. “Your mouth.”

“As you wish.” And then his tongue was on her, and in her, and she couldn’t help but let out a moan. And Pierre was loving every second of it. He stayed down there for a while, long enough to finish her twice.

Laurel pushed on his shoulder, trying to get him to turn on his back so she could return the favor. Pierre shook his head as he shucked his shorts off, pulling her head down to kiss her roughly. “I’m going to cum right here if I don’t get inside you in the next two minutes, babe.” He reached over to the nightstand, grabbing a condom. “Guess I’ll have to thank Josh for these when we get back home.”

She raised one eyebrow, clearly unamused. “If you do that, I can promise you I’ll never put your dick in my mouth. Not now, not ever.”

Pierre held his hands up in surrender, the foil packet shining between two fingers. “Alright, alright. I won’t.” He paused just before bringing the wrapper up to his teeth. “You want this?”

Laurel nodded frantically as he rolled the condom down his length. He looked so hard it was painful. “So bad.” He leaned down to kiss her, propped up on one arm as he pushed into her, hair falling into his face as he closed his eyes. He was too blissed out to be able to focus on anything other than how good she felt around him, how tight and warm and how well she fit, like Laurel Elizabeth Klerken was made for him and him alone.

“More,” Laurel cried softly, and that was all it took for Pierre to grab one of her legs, throwing it around his hips as he increased his pace, head dropping to her neck as he nipped at her pulse points. It didn’t take long for Pierre to reach his high, Laurel right behind him. He pressed a sweet kiss to her forehead before getting up from the bed, going into the bathroom to tie off the condom and grab a washcloth. He cleaned up between her legs as Laurel lay there, trying to steady her breathing, absolutely spent from the night’s three orgasms. “Why didn’t we do that earlier?” Laurel murmured.

Pierre laughed, throwing the cloth in the laundry basket and tilting down to press a kiss to the crown of her head. “I don’t know. But it was worth it.”

February 20 (mon)

Laurel had learned early on in her relationship with Pierre that she couldn’t put much stock into what was said on Twitter. Or Instagram, or any social media for that matter. So much was speculation: about draft picks, about trade rumors, about Pierre-Luc Dubois’ secret wife, that it just wasn’t useful or healthy for her so spend much time looking around. She still had her accounts, but Instagram was the only one she went on with any regularity nowadays. And she rarely checked her phone during the work day anyways; unless it was an unusually slow day — which was never a good sign in the medical world — the only time she was even able to spare a glance was during her lunch break or when she’d run to the bathroom. So when her phone buzzed with a text from Pierre as she sat at the nurses’ station, her brow furrowed as she unlocked the screen.

Are you free right now? I need to call you.

Laurel bit her lip, nerves threatening to boil over. He knew her schedule, he knew she was at work. What could be so important that it couldn’t wait? Are you okay? Did something happen?

He typed a response as soon as her text showed as delivered. I’m not hurt, it’s not bad, really, I just need to tell you something and I don’t want to have to do it over text.

Laurel checked her watch. 11:18. It was early for a lunch break, but as long as she wasn’t needed, she could take her half hour any time between 11 and 1. She caught the eye of her charge nurse. “Claudette? I’m taking my lunch if that’s alright with you.” Claudette nodded, and Laurel quickly made her way to the locker room to grab her leftover pasta, texting Pierre on the way. Headed to the changing room now. Are you going to tell me what this is about?

Her phone rang a minute later, when she had just closed the door. She tapped the green button. “You’re going to have to tell me what’s going on here, P, because I’m kind of freaking out,” Laurel said, laughing nervously. “You don’t tell a girl what to expect, she starts assuming the worst.”

Pierre let out a heavy breath. She could imagine him running a hand through his hair on the other end. “I know, and I’m sorry if I worried you. I just needed to tell you before it breaks.”

“Before what breaks, Pierre?” Laurel’s anxiety was coming to a head.

“I’m coming home.”

Laurel screwed her eyes shut, even more confused than she was before. “Yeah, Pierre, I know you’re playing here next week. Why would that be news?”

“When’s the trade deadline, Laurel?”

“Last Monday in February, but I don’t see what that has…” She pulled the phone away from her ear, looking down at the screen, eyes locking on the date. “You got traded?”

She could imagine him sitting down on the edge of his couch, one hand dangling off the side, Georgia trying to jump up and goad him into giving her a pet or two. “They’re breaking it right before the noon deadline, but you deserved to know before everyone else did. You needed to know.”

Laurel leaned up against her locker, hand over her mouth. “You’re coming to Montréal?” She had seen it mentioned offhand on a few Twitter accounts she followed the handful of times she had logged on in the past week, but nobody thought it would actually happen. Even the concept of trading him seemed so far-fetched with the type of season he was having in Columbus. He was sitting near 30 goals and 40 assists, with one of the best plus-minus scores on the team. It just didn’t make sense.

“As of twenty minutes ago, I’m officially a Montréal Canadien,” Pierre answered.

“Oh God,” Laurel said, sympathy lacing her voice. She couldn’t let herself be excited, wouldn’t let herself be excited, until she knew exactly how Pierre felt about it. He had just been uprooted from the team that drafted him, where he’d played for four seasons and made friends and where everyone saw him as the future of the franchise.

Pierre let out a single laugh. “They let me know what the deal was, apparently Montréal really wanted me. First round pick next year, a second-year defenseman, some prospect from Laval.”

Laurel settled on the bench, tucking the phone under her chin. “Of course they really wanted you, P. You’re an incredible player, you’d be an asset to any team and you’re going to do great things in Montréal.” She paused. “But how are you feeling about the move? I know it’s not what you were expecting. Or what anyone was expecting, really.”

“It’s weird,” Pierre said after a moment. “Obviously yeah, I won’t lie, it’s a shock. But almost every player, even the really good ones, get traded at one point or another. Gretzky was traded to L.A.”

“Are you comparing yourself to Gretzky?” Laurel asked playfully.

“No,” Pierre chuckled. “But just trying to remind myself that it was almost inevitable. I’m allowed to be sad about it — and I am, it’s going to fucking suck leaving the boys — but I’m not as torn up as I thought I’d be if this ever happened.” He felt more than a little bad about it, but his first thought when his agent called and broke the news wasn’t sadness, it wasn’t despair at having to leave the team he had been brought up in and the men he considered his brothers. It was relief. Relief that he could be closer to his family, relief that he’d be back with Laurel, relief that he was going home. “And hey,” he said, catching Laurel’s attention. “You know what?”

Laurel rolled her eyes. “What?”

“I don’t even have to marry someone to move.”

---

Pierre’s flight got in late Tuesday night, just after Laurel’s shift at the hospital had ended. He had said he wouldn’t mind taking an Uber home so she didn’t have to rush over and stress about traffic, but Laurel didn’t care. She wanted to be at the airport to pick up her husband, even if it meant she’d still be in her scrubs doing it.

She saw him exiting the sliding doors of the international terminal before she even turned the corner, practically slamming her car into park as soon as she hit the curb. Pierre dropped his bags when her car door opened, paying no attention to the thump of the suitcases as they hit the ground or the wandering eyes of passersby. Airports hadn’t always been his favorite place. They meant leaving the people he loved, going away from what was warm and familiar and safe. They usually meant uncertainty. But that had changed, Pierre thought, as his wife jumped into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist as their lips met. Airports might just have become one of his favorite places. He pulled back from the kiss, their foreheads just barely touching. “Hi,” he said.

Laurel smiled, the kind of smile that lit up rooms and made crying babies giggle and that Pierre was pretty sure was his favorite thing he’d ever seen in the world. “Welcome home.”

#hockey imagine #pierre luc dubois #hockey smut #hockey imagines #hockey writing #hockey #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl smut #nhl writing #nhl #Pierre-Luc Dubois #pierre-luc dubois imagine #columbus blue jackets

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justoneday-namjoonii · 5 years

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It burns, doesn’t it? [Pt. 18] | millions burning | rough draft

Genre/au: Mafia!au, Mature, Fluff, Angst…so much angst. Violence and all that good mafia stuff. Warning: This story contains graphic imagery, mature subject matter, improper drug usage, self-medication, including but not limited to crude/unnerving behavior, intensity, bloody, v slight-gore, etc.

Members: BTS Feat. Got7

→ Pairing: Jungkook x reader x ( ? ) →Summary: Why am I hurting alone? Why am I in love alone?

author’s note: there will be a taglist for the next update! please comment on this post if u want to be tagged💜 P.s ive been sick for like the whole week so ive been power writing💖💪

Released → Pt. 18

| Prologue | Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 | Pt. 4 | Pt. 5 | Pt. 6 | Pt. 7 | Pt. 8 | Pt. 9 | Pt. 10 | Pt. 11 | P. 12 | Pt. 13 | Pt. 14 | Pt. 15 | Pt. 16 | Pt. 17 | Pt. 18 | Pt. 19 | Pt. 20

The pungent smell of marijuana engulfs your nostrils as soon the person walks inside. When you hear them clear their throat, you know exactly who it is. It's Jimin. Your chest fades into a bed of butterflies and the idea of talking to him alone makes you nervous.

You're peeking through the crack of the door as he leans against the counter.

You're still watching him and he hasn't noticed. He took out his phone and started typing. That's when you decide to crawl out of the pantry and he flinches when he sees you emerge from the tiny space.

"Y/n," He sighs, brows furrowing in confusion, "what're you doing?"

"I was- I came down here earlier to get, um-" You clamber to explain yourself. "To get a-"

"Were you spying on me?"

You swallow, "Of course not! I wouldn't do that-"

"I'm kidding," He shoots you a dull smile, calming your nerves. "where's Jungkook? I’m surprised you’re not glued to his hip.”

"Upstairs, I was a little hungry so I came down to get something but I'm not hungry anymore."

He pushes back his brassy blonde hair, his eyes wander to the alcohol on the table and he giggles a little. You? Drinking alcohol?

"You've been drinking?"

"A little, Jungkook and I," Along with that pungent smell on his clothes, you catch a whiff of some type of liquor on him. You smile, "smells like you had a little bit yourself."

"Hm," He nods, "a little."

He looks like he's uninterested in talking to you, but you know that can't be true. It's Jimin after all.

"Why have you been acting like, I don't know," You blurt it out without thinking. "...Like you don't want to talk to me?"

His heart stops for a moment and he withdraws. "I don't think I have, that's how you feel?"

"Well, yeah. For a while, you were my only true friend and I thought you cared enough about me to at least t- talk to me...You haven't said a word to me since we got here." Tears well in your eyes. Naturally, you try to cover your face with your hands, in a futile attempt to stop the tears. "This situation is already difficult to adjust to and you treating me like a stranger doesn't help."

"Y/n," He leans against the counter, trying to distract himself with tapping the cool granite, rather than listening to your hitched breath. Those sounds are pure torture to him, “things are just complicated."

He says that, but here he is, watching you ball your eyes out because he hasn't been paying you even the slightest attention. "How are they complicated?"

"Do you not realize what's happening? We're all under one roof and there's bad blood on all sides here. He doesn't trust me and you know this, Y/n," He turns from you, "You're just not thinking straight."

What is he saying?

"I thought of you as a real friend, it sounds so stupid now but that's how I felt. You listened to me, you didn't just hear what I said, you listened and you seemed like you cared." You hiccup, biting your lip incredibly hard to resist sobbing. "It's not f- fair to do this to me."

"Fair? Y/n, how the fuck do you think I feel?" He walks up to you, no longer worried about keeping a distance,

"Do you think this easy for me? Do you think I can just forget about you because you’re with him? You loved my attention, you were looking for it constantly and I gave it to you whenever you wanted it because I wanted to see you smile at least once a day, that was my goal. If I could do that, then I was doing something right. I was there for you when you were at your lowest, and do you know what you told me? You're not Jungkook."

You forgot you said that to him.

"I spent all of that time with you but you’ll always run to him. I kissed you and maybe deep down inside I thought you'd kiss me back or feel something for me but you didn't. And I had to accept that you love Jungkook and I'm not him. So nothing is fair in this world, sometimes you just have to suck it up."

"Jimin," Guilt consumes you and you want everything in the world to take back what you said, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Look, I don't know what I'm feeling or what this is between us but it has to stop." He drags his hands down his face, regretting that this conversation had to start tonight.

"Jimin, that doesn't mean not you're allowed to care about me." You whimper, wiping your cheek sloppily. "As a friend..."

"Y/n, it's not that simple." He combs through his hair. "God, you treat me like I'm harmless like I'm not capable of hurting you. I could hurt you, in a way that shatters the mental image of yourself, of who you were before me. I've made people so totally devoted to a persona that I've created just to get what I want, I could do that to you." His expression saddens because even though he's saying it he can't bear the thought. "Aren't you afraid of that?"

"S- stop saying things like that...You- you wouldn't do that to me. I'm sorry if I hurt you or made you feel used. I was just so lonely and broken, and you were there and when I was with you I actually wanted to live, I wanted to be happy because you reminded me that it was still possible," You sniffle, "I- I'm sorry that I held onto that so tight."

"Hey, I know," He tilts his head, looking in your glossed over eyes as if they had some type of soul-saving properties, "you don't have to cry, okay? I know you're sorry, and I am too. Y/n, it kills me to see you like this..."

But when you look up at him, nose red and glistening eyes—he can't take it anymore.

"It's okay," Jimin throws all caution to the wind and embraces you, he takes a few breaths and exhales in relief. "calm down,"

* * * * * * *

"What's taking so long..." You said you were hungry but he assumed you weren't going to down there to make a whole meal. Curiosity gets the best of him. He hopes out of the bed and goes downstairs to see what you're doing — what he sees shocks him to the bone.

There you are, wrapped in Jimin's arms and crying. Anger bubbles in his chest, but for your sake, he keeps it at bay. Quietly, he approaches you two and Jimin open his eyes when he feels a dark presence. Oh shit.

"Somebody wanna tell me what’s happening here?"

“Jungkook?-” Without warning, you're being pulled from Jimin and squished against Jungkook like a stuffed animal to a child. "look at me," He holds you so that he can inspect your face,

"what's wrong? Why are you crying?" His brows are knitted tightly and he's alarmed, frantically trying to figure out why you're so distraught. "Tell me what happened." You push your face back into his chest and whine, you just can't say anything, he diverts his attention toward Jimin.

He switches out completely.

"What the fuck did you do?" Jungkook borderline growls, leaving you to get in Jimin's personal space.

"What do you think I did, Jungkook?" He bites back. "Why do you walk into a situation without any context and instantly start throwing blame?"

"Answer the question." He points at you. "You must have done something because she's crying and won't say anything. What did you do to her?"

"I didn't do anything to her." Jimin looks to you, "Y/n, tell him-"

"Don't answer him," Jungkook abruptly stands in front of you, blocking Jimin's view of you completely. He looks back at Jimin, "and don't fucking talk to her."

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queengavemeasheerheartattack · 5 years

Text

A Little Fairy in the Window Pt 2

Summary: After a night of drinking on tour, the members of Queen all head up to Rogers room to hang out for a while to whine down before they all sleep but when they all settle down Roger see something in the corner of his eye and faint glow, being in America he thinks its probably and firefly but when he gets to the window where the glow is he is shocked, it wasn't a firefly but a fairy with a soft golden glow to her looking up at him.

A/N: If you would like to read part one, search on my blog the title of this, ive tried to make a masterlist and its too hard an complicated for me, i’ll try again though!

Word Count: 1608

I woke up to a repeated series of knocks on my hotel room door. I pushed the blanket off of myself and ran my hand though my hair to rid of a few knots.

I walked towards the door and opened it to reveal Freddie and John. “You're not ready, lovie? We're going to find a toy store today” Freddie said.

Toy store? Freddie must have noticed my confusion. “We're going to the toy store for our darling fairy friend Y/n” he explained. Y/n...she wasn't a dream. I turned around and looked over to the desk in the corner and there she was, asleep on the packet of cotton balls Freddie brought over for her for a bed.

“I'll go wake her up” I said. I walked over to where she was “Y/n...you've gotta wake up honey” I said gently. I nudged her with my pinkie finger. She fluttered her eyelids open and rubbed them. She's so sweet.

“Roger..?” she said sweetly. She looked up at me and stood up. Her wings laying down flat against her back. “we're going to find a bed that's good enough for you today, I just...” looked down to myself to find myself shirtless and with just boxers on “Gotta get dressed...”

I walked away and went into the bathroom. I did what I had to do and got ready for the day. When I came back out Freddie and John where sitting on the bed talking to Y/n about herself. About what she did in her spare time. Spare time...? did she have a job? Does...does she have a family...? she would have said if she did.

“Roger, we have to knock on Brian's door when we leave, he was on the phone to Chrissy when we knocked before” John had said. I nodded my head “Y/n...?” I said she turned her head from Freddie and looked towards me. “You'll have to stay in my shirt pocket so people don't see you...” I explained.

She said a quick okay and flew up toward my shirt, I flicked my hair over my shoulder so she could get in.

she got herself comfortable in my pocket, making sure her wings weren't folded in a strange way. “Comfy, Y/n?” I asked. She looked up at me and nodded with a smile. “Alright then, lets get going!”

I made sure I had everything down to my key card for my hotel room and my wallet. Making our way towards the door I grabbed a pair of sunglasses before heading out and getting Brian.

“Have you seen much of city's Y/n?” John had asked. “Not really, I prefer to stay in nature, it's where I belong” she answered. “That's probably understandable, probably better too, to be honest”

We arrived at Brian's room, Freddie gave a loud knock on his door and it opened to reveal Brian behind it. “Ready, Brimi?” I asked. He nodded and closed the door behind him.

“How are you today, Y/n?” Brian asked as we walked along side each other. “I'm good thank you!” she replied. “That's good sweetheart”

we got into the lift and went to the ground floor and left the hotel.

Walking along the street I noticed Y/n popping her head out of my pocket a little bit to look at her surroundings. “You might get caught, love” I whispered. She looked up at me seeming scared. The city life must be startling to her.

“I asked the receptionist if there was a good toy store near by before I came to get you both this morning and they said its only a 10 minute walk give or take” John said.

I looked back down towards Y/n to already be looking at me, completely hidden in my pocket, she noticed me looking at her and gave me a smile as if to say thank you.

When arriving at the toy store Freddie asked the shop keep if they sold doll house accessories. He pointed towards the back of the shop and we walked over there. There wasn't that many people in here to be fair. A couple of kids running around but then again what did you expect in a toy store?

We found the stuff we were looking for and looked at them all. “Can I have a look?” Y/n whispered. I looked down at her then looked around if anyone was near and the coast was clear. She popped her head out and I then held my hand towards her, signalling for her to get on.

When she did, I brought my hand down towards the little bed and she climbed on it “How is it, love?” I asked “it feels a bit hard...” she said. Well...it is made of plastic...”We could make a mattress for her out of the cotton balls Freddie gave her last night” Brian suggested. “That's not a bad idea, where is Freddie?” John asked. “Darlings! They sell doll clothes here!” Freddie said sounding excited.

He walked over towards us with a hop in his walk with a few outfits in hand. “I got the ones that suited our lovie the best, see?! They look amazing!” he held up a few dresses that looked like they belonged on a Woodland Elf from a Tolkien book “What do you think Y/n? Do you like them?” I asked. She looked at me and I noticed her golden glow was slowly turning pink again...is that her way of blushing?

“I think they would look lovely on you” I said further. Her glow then turned more pink. She looked down and put her hands behind her back and nodded “Thank you, Roger...” she said sweetly. I smiled down at her but my smile fell when I heard a gasp. I turned my head away from her and looked beside me and noticed a child staring right at Y/n. She must have noticed the child too since she became panicked.

I got the child's attention and held my finger up to my mouth in a way to keep this a secret. The child nodded and walked away. But that didn't stop Y/n from flying back into my pocket. I could feel her shaking from being seen. We decided to pay for what we came for and went back to the hotel.

The hold walk back Y/n didn't even try to pop her head out like I caught her doing a few times walking to the store, she just stayed in my pocket and didn't come out.

When arriving at my hotel room the five of us went in and made ourselves comfortable. Freddie began on making the doll bed a lot more comfortable for Y/n to sleep in and was putting the clothes we got her in to a doll wardrobe we got for her too. John was making us all a cup of tea and Brian and I was trying to make Y/n feel better.

“You okay, Y/n?” Brian asked. Y/n grabbed on to the top of my pocket and popped her head out. “Yeah...I'm okay, I just got a bit startled from the child seeing me...” she said softly and gave us a smile. “I've made everyone a cuppa, um, Y/n I had to dip the cup we got for you in to my cup” John said and placed the very small cup on the table in front of us.

I lifted my hand up towards Y/n again so she could get out and placed her on the table so she could get her drink. She gave it a sip and looked at us with wide eyes “This is really good! Better than just water all the time” she said. “What do you eat Y/n?” I wondered.

“Fruit and veg mainly, and just water, a whole cherry would fill me up” she answered having another sip of her tea. “You wont get into trouble for speaking to us will you? Like do you have a council or...a Prime Minister?” Brian asked “A Prime Minister? No we have nothing like that. We're born from the dandelion seeds that you see float around, the ones that are able to make it into the forest are tended to by other fairies, the dust that falls off of me is sprinkled on to a dandelion seed and another fairy is born. Its like making a child I suppose? ” she explained.

“Fascinating...I could hear you talk about this for ages” Brian said. “I'd be happy to tell you more” she smiled. “Done!” Freddie exclaimed. We turned and looked over to Freddie who held a mattress small enough for Y/n. “Thank you Freddie” she said. “No need to thank me dear! Although we would love to talk to you for hours we do have a concert tonight” he said. How did I forget we had a concert tonight?! “Concert?” Y/n asked. “It's what we do, its our job, I'm not sure you'd like it though...its very loud...” John explained.

The boys left the go get ready for the concert so it just leaves Y/n and I. “What will you do while we're out?” I asked. Y/n looked at me and said “I'm not sure. Probably try to make friends with that spider in the corner” she pointed towards the small spider in the corner of the room by the window. “Well could you tell him to leave before we get back, don't want him in here while we sleep” I joked. She giggled “I'll try and tell him”

I gave her a smile and went to go get ready for the concert.

Tag List: @someone-get-a-medic @asupersonicwoman

#roger taylor #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor fanfic #roger taylor x reader #queen imagines #queen fanfic #a little fairy in the window

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21st-century-daydreamer · 5 years

Text

This Stupid Little Thing Called Life. (pt.1)

Summary: 6 teenagers got kidnapped while on a trip across Europe. The reader finds out that it’s not just a usual kidnapping. That the world is not what she thought it was. The mundane girl got swept into the world S.H.I.E.L.D and H.Y.D.R.A.

Word Count: 2,688

Warnings: Nothing yet…Maybe violence?

Pairing: Eventual Steve Rogers x reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, OC x Reader, Avengers x platonic!Reader

If you wanna be tagged ask here.

Read the previous part here. Part 2

Cold.

The first thing that I felt after I opened my eyes. I guess my body can no longer handle the burning pain scorching through my veins. I looked around my cell and found various scratches on the wall, not tally marks but it looks like claws or some sort. There were blood stains here and there. While I was trying to collect myself I realized that I wasn’t alone, my friends are here too. I remembered that they separated us, I crawled my way to the bars of my cells. The cell right across from me seemed pretty empty, but I couldn’t be sure, it was too dark to see.

“Brit? Noah?” As soon as I screamed I realized it was a bad idea. My throat felt like sandpaper.

“Y/N!” It sounded like Noah, the voice came from the cell right next to mine. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice was raspy.

“I don’t know, I guess not. Have you seen the others?” I asked him hoping to get a confirmation that they’re alive.

“I think they haven’t woke up yet. I just woke up like 30 minutes before you did.”

“Noah, please tell me that David and Felicity are alive, tell me that I hit my head that it was just a hal-”

“I’m sorry.” I could hear the devastation in his voice. I tried to be as quiet as possible but I just can’t. I couldn’t hold the tears anymore, I was supposed to be on a vacation in Europe and go off to college. Now I lost two of my friends because of unclear and mysterious reasons. I’ve heard that the chances of people surviving their captors are 20%. This is bigger than just a couple of people, how big are my chances?

“Did they shackle you too?” he asked.

“Yeah, what did they do to us? Noah, I’m scared.”

The main door was opened. The creaking sounds of old metals filled the room. I retreat to the farthest darkest corner of my cell. I could hear footsteps getting closer and closer to my cell. I squeezed my eyes shut hoping that they would think that I’m still unconscious. I heard them opening a cell door, hoping to God that it wasn’t mine, but the sounds are too close to be anyone else’s.

“Stop it little one. We know you’re awake.” I kept my eyes shut, keeping my cover. I could feel them opening my shackles, the word escape crosses my mind. But I knew that I’m in no condition to do that, I couldn’t even walk let alone run out of this place.”Get her up!” I felt two hands at either of my upper arms, tugging me harshly. They’re gonna take me somewhere, my panic mode kicked in. “NO! LET ME GO! NO!” I screamed and kicked around. “SHUT UP!” One of the men shouted. I turned around and saw Doctor asshole again. They dragged me out of my cell. I looked inside the other cells, Noah was banging on the bars trying to get them to let me go. The cell next to Noah contained a long dark-haired girl slumped on the floor. “BRIT. please be alive.” I silently prayed. There was a hand coming out of the first cell from the door, next to Brit’s. Please be Liz... When I passed it a wave of relieved washed through me, it was Liz. She was awake but too weak to speak, but her eyes spoke a thousand word. She’s scared and confused and in pain. Liz was the youngest among us, so she’s always been like a sister to me. And the fact that I can’t assure her and protect her killed me.

When we got out of the cell’s hallway or whatever it is, I can finally get a clear view of what this actually was. The building seemed old, all around me were brick walls, no windows. I saw a lot of people, files, computer, guns, and stuff I can’t comprehend was clustered all around.

They dragged me inside a cleaner part of the building with a metal table in the middle and stuff that belonged in the lab. Unfamiliar liquids, metal cabinets, etc. One of the guards that were holding moved down and grabbed my leg, at that moment I realized what they’re doing. I trashed doing everything I can to stay as far away as possible from the metal table. But I wasn’t strong enough, they managed to put me on the table and tied me. “Get the fuck away from me!” I screamed. Doctor Asshole approached me with an IV of Black Liquid. He smiled down at me, “You’re gonna be our salvation, the world’s only hope. H.Y.D.R.A newest strongest asset, if you survive of course.” He put the IV together and buried the needle of the IV under my skin. The burning sensation started again. “PLEASE STOP! PLEASE” I couldn’t think clearly at this point, I was crying, thrashing and screaming. “God please help me, make this stop!” I prayed and prayed. I didn’t know how long it had been, I’ve been in and out of consciousness throughout the transfusion. They grabbed me again, dragging me to another room. It was made out of glass with a weird device on top of it. They just threw me inside it, and suddenly I can hear the sound of heavy machinery followed my a bright yellow light from above. I felt weaker and weaker and it felt like every cell on my body were being ripped apart. All I could do was scream. After a couple minutes, I passed out. When I woke up I found myself inside my cell again.

This continued every day on all of us. My throat was soo sore from screaming either because of the injection or one of my friends being taken. I hear them screaming inside from inside their cell. The lucky ones came back unconscious. I fell asleep listening to the screams of my friends.

To keep track of the day, I carved lines on the wall with the little metal that I broke from my chain.

On day 45, they didn’t come for any of us. They usually took us after the first meal of that they gave on that day. When I first saw movement inside the cell in front of me I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. “Hey anyone there?” I asked. I didn’t get an answer but what I got was a pair of glowing blue eyes. The figure keeps moving forward and the glowing eyes faded and turned normal. When he stepped into the light I can finally see clearly. He was looked young, in his 20′s. “Hey, I’m Y/n” I introduce myself.

“Vincent,” he answered, his voice was deep and husky.

“How long have you been here?” I asked him again.

“I don’t really know, months I guess,” he replied shortly.

“How come I’ve never seen you in your cell?” I asked again, all this time I’ve been in this cell right across from him I always thought that it was empty.

He didn’t answer instead, he asked me a question. “This is the first time they didn’t drag you out right?” I furrowed my brow. “Yeah, why?”

The huge metal door at the end of the hallway opened.

His facial expression changed, “No matter what, you have to win. Do anything to survive, you hear me? You need to be the last one standing. Do-” He was cut off by the guard hitting his cell “SHUT YOUR MOUTH!”

They went inside my cell and yanked me up. “SURVIVE!” I heard Vincent’s voice behind me. They put a bag over my head with eye holes, tape my mouth shut and gave me a knife. Then they threw me inside what looks like a ring. On the other side, I saw another person. Also with a bag over their head. “Fight!” I heard someone shouted. My opponent lunged at me, but I moved out of the way just in time. And I remember what Vincent said, Survive. There’s only one person coming out of this ring and it’s gonna be me. I need to survive to tell the others what to do if they got taken too, and maybe just maybe to get out of this place. When I charged at them I felt this new found strength and flexibility. All I see was a blur, I just need to aim for the chest or the head. When I saw an opening I charged for the chest, but then I missed and they got a good slashed to my arm. The weird thing is I couldn’t really feel it. I deflect and dodge any attack and for a split second, I saw it and opening after I manage to kick them in the chest. I jab my knife as hard as I can to their head. They dropped to the floor, and I realized what I just did. My eyes were transfixed on the knife that was still inside a person’s head. I didn’t realize that they threw in another opponent inside the ring. Until I felt a slash on my shoulder. I wanted to scream but my mouth was taped shut. I turned around and saw that they were ready to stab me again. My whole body was frozen and I just put my arm in front of my head. And the knife never came. I just heard a body slumped on the floor. I opened my eyes and saw a scene that made me dropped to my knees. Blood was seeping out from her body, I couldn’t see where the wound was. It came from everywhere. It looked like when you squeezed a sponge. The white jumpsuit that they wore, turned red. A man stepped inside the ring, he was clapping with a smile on his wicked face. “Congratulation.” He took off the bag from my head and the tape off of my mouth. “Why are you doing this?” I cried.

“To know who is the strongest.” He answered. “What happened to the second one? I didn’t even touch them.” I asked.

“Your gift did.”

“You said that you made me do this to find the strongest right? Now you know, I’m the one you want. Let my friends go.. please. I’ll beg them to stay quiet and not say anything. Please just let them go.” I begged him on my knees. I can’t take another scream of the people that I love. He crouched and touched my cheek. “Friends? Do you mean friend?” he said.

He nodded at his men, they took off both the bag from my opponents head.

“NO!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. My heart stopped, my mind went blank. It was...

Brit and Liz

“NO...Please don’t...no..what did I- I do? What ha-have I-I done?” I ran towards them and cradled their bodies. I stabbed Liz in the head and I don’t even know what I did to Brit. They felt cold. “No..God. Please... wa-wake up...” I sobbed. I killed my sisters. “Take her back to the cell.” They dragged my body away from them. I screamed and kicked... “what have I done...”

When they slammed me back in my cell I heard Noah’s voice, but I couldn’t bring myself to focus on what he’s saying. I curled up inside my cell, sob wrecking through my body. I fell asleep crying.

Day 300, I still can’t think straight. I told Noah what happened the next day after it happened, we cried together. After that, I just give up I guess. I stopped fighting whenever they brought me out for the ‘experiment’ and combat training. I talked to Vincent on a daily basis. He told me that he was sorry, he didn’t know that it would be them. I didn’t blame him, I needed to survive. We shared small talks to keep us sane. And god knows I needed that. On day 434, they took Noah out and he never got back again. I knew what that meant. I lost everyone. I was too tired to cry, too angry to be exact. I’m gonna make ‘em pay.

Every day they kept forcing me to show them my powers again but it just wouldn’t show. So they decided to inflict pain on me to trigger the enhancement. Drowning, Electric chair, every torture you can think of. It was painful but for a fucked up reason, I’m glad that it could take away the nightmare that I had every night of my friends dying and took it positions as my new nightmare. Day 715, they brought me to a room with a little kid, they just put me there. I was confused about why they would do this. He started to play with me, and after about 30 minutes a soldier walked in with a gun aimed at the kid. “NO!” I covered him with my body. But the bullet never came. I realized that my power did something. And if my power is working right now, this would be my chance to escape. I felt a power surged through my body. I aimed my hand the other guard. He dropped to the floor with blood seeping out of him. I smirked and ran to the opened door and started to attack everyone that I saw. Suddenly the light turned red. “Bring out the asset!” I heard a voice over the PA system. This took broke my focus and a collar was put around my neck from behind. I turned around and tried to attack the soldier behind me but nothing came out of my hand. I immediately switched to hand to hand combat, I tried punching him but he catches my arm and I realized that his hand was metal.

Suddenly an idea popped inside my head. I fought him and made him put in a choke hold with his left arm. I struggled more so that he tightened his grip and then I heard it

CRACK

A smirked came to my face. Suddenly I heard a scream. “VINCENT!” it was his.

I threw him to the wall with the flick of my hand. And ran towards Vincent while killing everyone in front of me. “Vincent! Get away from the door.” I concentrate on the bars, it was harder than any other metal in this building and thicker also but I managed to crush it enough for Vincent to get out. “Let’s go.” We ran outside, killing everyone in our way. I was trying to find Doctor Asshole but I couldn’t find him. I saw his badge on one of the tables. “I’ll find you Dr. Grerad Guirera.” I thought to myself. Fighting alongside Vincent felt natural, now I knew why his cell was made out of stronger and thicker metal, He has super strength. While finishing everyone on the lab, I found my file on the lab. All I care about was what it wrote about my enhance power. Telekinesis. It says that I was able to crush the inside of a human being leaving the outer body seems fine but inside it’s mashed, the same thing that I did with the metal.

“We need to go,” Vincent said.

We escaped by killing everyone. But all the soldier that we fought, none of them shot their gun at us. No weapon discharge. It’s like they weren’t allowed to use their gun.

When we stepped outside the facility, it was snowing. We were surrounded by forests. I Inhale as much fresh air as possible. It brought tears to my eyes. Vincent grabbed my hand and we ran through the woods following a path. After a couple of hours, we finally arrived in a small city.

I recognize the writing on a poster. “We are somewhere in Russia,” I told Vincent.

“We did it.” He hugged me and kissed my forehead.

I should feel free, but I don’t. Not until Dr. Grerad Guirera paid for what he has done. Not until H.Y.D.R.A pay for everything.

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maternalcube · 6 years

Text

i did an art summary so now im doing a fic summary. i was tagged by @jamthedingus also!! ive never done one of these before!! lets go!!!

Rest (13106)

Keith & Lance's Island Adventure (20631)

Atlantis (10014 words)

The Way to a Man’s Heart (6858 words)

nobody's business (2096 words)

leave, and take (557 words)

dead girl walking (1661 words)

the course of fate (1039 words)

who ya gonna call (465 words)

come here often? (806 words)

til kingdom come (1950 words)

stars in the sky (pt 2) (5404 words)

a song of falling (630 words)

Eyes to the Sky (3683 words)

Feet on the Ground (4050 words)

Divergence (6669 words)

homecoming (1426 words)

Window of Opportunity (11144 words)

along that wilderness of glass (3801 words)

string theory (2327 words)

Katt Week (1062 words)

The Pining-Plant (3860 words)

at the end of many worlds (21684 words)

you're my home (19646 words)

Believe Me (3177 words)

Starchild (3568 words)

Summer Heat (2285 words)

third time's the charm (5349 words)

Blackbird (59546 words)

The Sixth Planet (9444 words)

all the infinite realities (1197 words)

Total Fics: 31! (plus one i posted anonymously lmao) Total Words: 229999! (except parts of string theory and the sixth planet were actually posted last year... but still, what a number)

more under the cut!

Ship/character breakdown: i didnt filter out my prompt collection or abandoned wips here so /shrug Ship breakdown:

klance - 6 sheith - 5 shance - 5 katt - 4 heith - 3 pallura - 2 and one each of plance, kallura, allurance, shatt, shkatt, kidge, kidgance, and shunk. and keiths parents lol. let it never be said i am not a multishipper.

and i know gen isnt a ship but it tied with klance at 6 (plus whatevers in the prompt collection) which was a surprise

Character breakdown: man if theres a way to get ao3 to show me ALL the stats, i dont know it. but.

keith - 25 (shocker) shiro - 23 lance - 21 pidge - 17 hunk - 16 allura - 12 matt - 12 and then coran and sam are at 4, and zarkon ats 3 and presumably many others are at 3 or less

Characters that had the main focus: well ~9 were from keiths pov, and ~5 each from shiro and lances povs. i think i also had ~5 from multiple points of view. its safe to say that keith has my heart tho lol

Specifics:

Best/worst title? Best title: i still like “at the end of many worlds.” i weirdly still like “Blackbird” too even if it has nothing to do with anything... Worst title: “Rest.” :/ also like all of the abandoned wips bc i didnt care. and “Keith & Lance's Island Adventure.″ some of my zine fic titles were also... bad. im bad at titles.

Best/worst first line?

Best: Keith & Lance's Island Adventure. ok the title is bad but this line? this really sets the tone for whole fic. you know what youre getting yourself into here.

When Pidge invited Keith to a fully-funded graduation party aboard the Holt family boat (“the smaller one, anyway,” she’d said), this is not exactly what he'd pictured: three of them standing on a wobbly dock, packed bags at their feet, sky cloudy and gray, while the Holt siblings stand on a little ledge off the back of the boat and deny entry.

Worst: ive got two for this lol

at the end of many worlds: even i have to read this a couple times to figure out what i was trying to say. at least you know youre in for pain...

Keith’s mother shows up to interrupt movie night often enough that, this time, Keith almost doesn’t realize anything’s wrong. Almost, because she’s silhouetted by the movie, but she’s clutching her arm and panting for breath, and in the thin edge of light around her he sees a wet and vibrant red.

Divergence: because all your friends being dead is EXACTLY like losing at dodgeball. yeah, theres a reason i abandoned this one.

Hunk always hated playing dodgeball. Not because he was bad at it--though he was--but because he always ended up the last one standing, and therefore the only target for the entire other team. It was due to a tendency to hang unnoticed in the back, he knew, but that didn't change the sickening, empty feeling of looking around and realizing there's no one left but him, and there's no way he can win. Only wait for the inevitable.

This, Hunk decides, is a lot like that, only, like, a billion times worse.

Best/worst last line?

Best: The Pining-Plant. there are a few others that were cute too but this one is also good out of context so

And then the pod swishes open and he's scrambling to catch Pidge as she stumbles out. She clings to his arms to steady herself and his heart swells.

"Falling for me again, huh?" he asks, and she groans loudly.

"Let me go, I'm getting back in the pod," she says, and he laughs. He doesn't let go, and neither does she.

Worst: if im bad at titles, im worse at endings. most are bad. i suspect the ending to “Rest” is terrible but i cant bring myself to even open that shit again so: Believe Me. if weather were a recurring theme in this fic, itd be fine, but as is its just... a weird note to end the fic on lmao

Hunk rocks back on his heels. "We aren't counting this as our official first date, right?"

"I dunno," Keith says, and now he smiles at the rain instead of frowning. It shows no sign of easing up, but whatever—they're soaked anyway. "This seems pretty good to me."

“...All right.” If nothing else, it’ll make a good story. And, Hunk had to admit—he’s pretty happy with how it’s turned out, rain and all.

But next time, he's double-checking the forecast, just in case.

General questions:

Looking back, did you write more fics than you thought you would this year, less than you thought, or about what you predicted?

more than i expected! considering ive been in grad school all year!! i wrote about the same amount wordcount-wise in 2017 which i spent only half in school so. idk how i managed it.

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted last year?

the anonymous fic was a surprise but im not gonna talk about that lol. otherwise... nah, its all been my usual stuff.

What’s your favorite story this year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you the happiest.

blackbird, probably. i like working on that one. summer heat was also fun, id sort of forgotten about it bc it was a zine fic but coming back to it, i really liked it. likewise with third time’s the charm. and i like t6p a lot even if i kinda hate drawing for it :’)

Okay, NOW your most popular story.

depends on your metric. window of opportunity has the most kudos, keith and lance’s island adventure has the most hits, and t6p has the most comments and subscriptions.

Story most underappreciated by the universe?

AT THE END OF MANY WORLDS. oh man i killed myself over that fic. it was important to me. but i think the mcd scared everyone off :’)

Story that could have been better?

i realize “all of them” is kind of a cop out answer but like

Sexiest story?

i have written nothing sexy, ever, in my whole life

Saddest story?

i mean, ateomw. considering all the death. blackbird def has its moments too.

Most fun?

i feel like i answered this in the favorite story q lmao. you’re my home also gets a shoutout, that thing was,, super self-indulgent lmao. and id be lying if i said i didnt have fun with parts of ateomw, even if its mostly sad.

Story with single sweetest moment?

man i write a lot of fluff but so much of you’re my home is just tooth-rotting. heres part of the proposal scene lmao

"Lance!" Keith yelps, barely rescuing the ring from falling into the sand with them. Lance pushes himself up on his arms, silhouetted by the sun and glowing with it.

"Really?" he asks breathlessly.

"Yeah," Keith says, and maybe he should've prepared something to say, that's a thing people do, right? Hell, he's winging it. "I know we can't stay here on Earth forever, 'cause we're paladins, and there's still stuff out there we gotta do. And I know you probably want to stay because this is your home—but you're my home, and if we gotta go, at least you'll have me, good or bad." He grins crookedly. "Or rocket science. Whatever happens, I'll be there."

Hardest story to write?

well t6p gets a shoutout, but its not the writing thats the hard part for that. uhhh ive struggled with parts of blackbird. i remember k&l’s island adventure giving me a LOT of trouble, i think i posted late lol

Easiest/most fun story to write?

anything short uhhh for all the infinite realities, i kind of just sat down the other day (actually i was in bed but) and was like “im gonna write this” and then in the morning i just sat down and wrote it in one go. i dunno if id call it fun, but it was easy. t6p is super fun to write but, as mentioned, drawing it sucks.

Did any stories shift your perceptions of the characters?

no... my perceptions probably have shifted but not due to anything i wrote in particular. i did talk myself into liking allurance with a prompt fill, though, but im not sure that was 2018...

Most overdue story?

all the infinite realities lmao. at the end of many worlds needed that happy ending. and another shoutout to t6p, because thats been going on over a year and im still nowhere.

Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them?

does posting my abandoned wips count? ive still got some of those hanging around... blackbird was a bit of a risk bc my last longfic was written while i was unemployed and out of school, so like i had the time for it, and now i kinda dont. still chugging tho. ateomw b/c of all the death but it turns out i really like writing whump woops. and writing any sort of kissing always feels like a risk bc i suck at it but im getting better lol... i hope...

What are your fic writing goals for next year?

write more! finish things! do more sheith! i really want to work on this sheith longfic i came up with the other day... but i want to get blackbird over with first.

Tagging: eh! do it if you want to!

#i need a fic tag #HOO BOY

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redrobinfection · 6 years

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“Mi cama es su cama”

JayTim Week 2018 | Day 5 - “Bed Sharing” (Day 6), Pt 5 of 6

AN: Okay, so, March is definitely one of the worst times of year for me, surpassed only by April, so, originally, I hadn’t planned on participating in this JayTim Week. But I couldn’t stay away from the “bed sharing” prompt, and thus this massive oneshot was born. Since I don’t like posting long works to tumblr, and the fic naturally split into six, roughly-even parts, I’ve decided to release one part each day up until day six, at which point I’ll also share a link to the entire work on Ao3. I particularly enjoyed writing this spur-of-the-moment monster, so I hope you enjoy reading just as much!

Tags: enemies to friends to lovers, pre-N52, slow burn, blood and injury, tw: blood

<< Part 4

---

Tim blew out a breath and sagged down onto the bed, running both hands through his hair. At this point it was a waiting game, nothing to do but wait until the man tucked into his bed woke up again. He carefully smoothed out the blankets he had draped over Jason's still form, mindful to keep his touch light so as not to aggravate the wounds stitched and bandaged underneath, and mused over the events of the past two hours.

The ordeal had begun with a bewildering alert from one of the safehouses at which he and Jay would often meet up to discuss cases or catch a nap if one or both of them were running on fumes. The napping part of it had started out as a joke between them after the time Tim had crashed at Jason's place right after the invasion had ended. Since then, every other week or so, one of them would show up at whichever safehouse the other was currently occupying just to beg a nap, hang out, and eat the other's food. These days, they were hanging out together at least twice a week, and Tim was actually starting to depend on those extra naps to keep him going throughout the week.

So when he had gotten the alert, he had wondered if maybe Jay had thought that he was there for some reason and just hadn't thought to disable and reset the security? It was that or someone had legitimately broken into the place; all of the Bats knew to either call him or disable the security themselves upon entering, so it wouldn't have been one of them. He had been particularly bewildered after he had pulled the security feed and saw that it was indeed Jason who had entered. Uncertain and a little concerned, Tim had peeled off from his patrol route and circled back to check, just in case.

Maybe Jason had info for him but had lost his comm? Or maybe he'd been hit with fear toxin or something similarly nasty and just homed in on the closest place to crash, just as Tim had months ago when he'd been hit by Freeze? Or maybe he had just really needed a nap?

Those possibilities had circled like impatient vultures in his head as he had cautiously entered the safehouse through the false wall Jason had carelessly left ajar. Upon seeing nothing immediately out of place, he had turned off the silent alarms and reset the system. He had then walked from room to room, seeking Jason out, until he had found him in the only bedroom.

At first glance it had appeared that Jason had snuck in for a quick nap, stretched out on his stomach across the bed, hood nowhere to be seen, head buried in a pillow. The second thing Tim had noticed was that Jay hadn't bothered to remove his boots before flopping across the bed. It was at the point that Tim had opened his mouth rouse his guest and gleefully rib him for his oversight that he had noticed the third thing, the spreading pool of blood just seeping out from under Jason.

Tim had instantly cried out and jumped forward, gingerly rolling the man onto his back. The stain hadn't spread too far, but thinking back to when he'd first gotten the alert and by looking at the deep color and wet glisten of blood that could no longer be absorbed by the saturated material, Jason had clearly been bleeding profusely for a while.

Heart in his throat, Tim had jumped right into crisis mode, quickly stripping out of his gauntlets, pulling on the nitrile gloves he kept in one of his bandolier compartments, shaking Jason to gauge level of consciousness - completely non-responsive - and feeling for a pulse as he gauged Jason's color and breathing. He had clearly lost a lot of blood, as confirmed by the paleness of his skin, his rapid, shallow breaths, his rapid, thready pulse, and the total loss of consciousness, but at least Tim had made it back while he had still had a pulse.

Tim had wasted no time in running into the gear room for his vigilante first aid kit, IV fluids and oxygen. He then quickly identified two gunshot wounds to the torso, in the lower right quadrant, and one superficial wound to the left shoulder. He had staunched the bleeding temporarily with sterile gauze and pressure bandages, then set Jay up on fluids and oxygen while he had made some calls out to Oracle and the Bats to call in some favors.

He had then cleaned and stitched the wounds in record time - Jay had been lucky the bullets hadn't gone deep enough to rupture viscera or nick any major arteries, otherwise he would have been taking a trip to his least favorite cave in the world, if he had survived long enough for Tim to call in the cavalry - and then he had gingerly shifted Jason over on the bed so he could strip the blankets and sheets from under him. The blood had soaked all the way through, as he'd thought - the mattress was a total loss - but it was the only bed Tim had, so he had done his best to soak up as much liquid as he could, then laid down a layer of towels before stretching clean sheets over the bed.

He had only just then finished tucking Jason back into the bed, setting him up on a unit of blood, cleaning up the bloodied sheets and towels, and putting away the first aid supplies. It had been two hours since he had first gotten the alert from his security app, but it had felt like two of the longest hours of his life.

He hadn't realized until he'd seen the pool of blood and seen Jason's pale, slack face how much he actually cared for the man. It scared him, just how much he cared. It frightened him, just how much it had frightened him to find Jason bleeding out and unresponsive in his bed.

He shifted his attention back to the man lying in his bed in the present moment. He threaded his fingers into Jason's and squeezed, his fingers mimicking the fear he felt squeeze his chest in that moment as he thought back on how close to total disaster they had come tonight. If he had been a few minutes slower or if the bullets had gone a little bit deeper or if they'd hit just a little higher. So many 'what-ifs' and it terrified him that the mere act of considering those possibilities terrified him so much.

He'd felt fear for the safety of those he'd worked with before - for Bruce, for Dick, for Steph, for Bart, Kon, Cassie and the Titans, even for Damian, once - but he'd never felt fear like this before. He wasn't sure what to make of it. Now that he was waiting for Jason to wake up, he wasn't sure whether he was more nervous about what would happen when Jason woke up again - what he would say, what Jay might say, what would happen next - or at the possibility that Jason might never wake up again.

He was pulled from his thoughts by a soft sound from the bed. The significance of that sound pulled a relieved smile from him in spite of the churning feeling he felt in his stomach as he watched Jason begin to stir. He subtly shifted his grip around Jason's hand, lightly feeling for a pulse and feeling a greater measure of relief from the strong, steady beat he felt gradually quicken under his fingertips. After a minute or so, Jason's eyes blinked open once, twice, then stayed open, at which point his face immediately twisted in pain.

"Wha' happ'n?" Jason groaned.

"I was hoping you could tell me that," Tim responded smoothly. It took Jason a few tries to focus his gaze on him.

"I was… trackin' down a weap'ns deal an'… turned bad… got caught in th' crossfire as I tried t' break it up… an' then… I dunno," Jason recalled woozily, frowning slightly. He pulled his hand from Tim's and pressed it lightly to the wounds on his abdomen, hissing slightly.

"And then you somehow made it out here, broke into my apartment, took a little nap in my bed, and bled all over my sheets. Not to mention you forgot to take your boots off first," Tim finished, keeping his tone light and teasing.

Jason huffed a laugh, then grimaced and pressed his hand harder against the wounds. "Shit, man… don' make me laugh. Hurts." Tim rose smoothly and retrieved two syringes from the dresser and rounded the other side of the bed to fiddle with the IVs. "Sorry about the sheets, though. And the boots, of course," Jason finished, shooting him a wink that was nearly indistinguishable from a wince.

"Don't worry about it," Tim assured him, patting the hand just below the IV sites patronizingly, "I mean, you forgave me that one time with Freeze, so I'm sure I can give you this one."

"H-how generous of you," Jason choked out, clearly trying his best not to laugh.

"I've got some painkillers and antibiotics here for you, if you want them. No allergies, right?" Tim asked, waving the syringes. Jason nodded vigorously to each, so Tim carefully uncapped and injected them into the port he'd placed with one IV catheter for this express purpose. "I would have given you the painkiller sooner, but I wanted to make sure you'd wake up first."

The tension visibly drained from Jason's face and body within seconds of the painkiller going in. He let out a pleased sigh as he relaxed back onto the pillows Tim had propped him up upon. "No problem, man. I'm just really grateful you got me the good stuff. Oh, yeahhhh… that's the stuffffffffff." He practically melted into the pillows, a happy little puddle of high-as-a-kite Jason.

Tim snorted. "Yeah, I had to call in a few favors to get my hands on it, so you're welcome." He capped the empty syringes and set them aside. "Had to call in one for the blood too. You're lucky I had the rest of this stuff on hand here or we would have been shit out of luck and you would have had to take a ride in your least favorite automobile in the city."

"Hey, nah, I love the Batmobile - awesome wheels on the thing - I just can't stand the jerk who drives it," Jason explained drowsily, eyes slipping closed in spite of himself. "But thanks for not calling in big B or Dickie and the Demon Brat."

"Well, it was Damian who brought us the morphine and blood, so…"

Jason's eyes snapped open and he stared. "Wait, Damian did you a favor? Wait. He owed you a favor? How even…? What did you do for the demon for him to owe you a favor?"

Tim laughed, slowly rounded the bed, and sat down beside Jason once more. "Yeah, he owed me a favor, and part of the favor I did him involved not telling anyone why he owed me that favor, so, you know, I really like not getting stabbed and thrown from high places, and rather dislike having my grapple lines cut, so I'm gonna keep that one to myself."

"That's fair. But jeez…" Jason whistled. "To use a favor from the Demon Brat on me. Wow. I'm honored."

Tim grinned. "No problem, man." He was just about to stand and go in search of extra blankets when Jason's hand unexpectedly shifted from his wounds down to where Tim's hand rested on the bed, his chilled fingers wrapping around Tim's slightly sweaty ones with a firm grip.

"But really, Tim, thank you," Jason murmured seriously. "Thanks for catching the alarms I must have set off coming in here and a special thank you for not taking your time coming back and checking on them - coming back and checking on me. Thanks for patching me up." He paused, then smiled and squeezed Tim's hand, instantly rekindling the heavy churning feeling in his stomach that had fallen to the wayside during their easy banter. "Thanks for sharing your beds, particularly this one, tonight, with me. Means a lot to me."

Tim nodded and swallowed. "Y-yeah, no problem." He shot up from the bed, yanking his hand from Jason's abruptly. He fluttered for a moment before rambling out some words that might have conveyed a desire to find more blankets and get Jay some water, but probably came out too quickly to be understood, and then he fled the room. He took his time pulling the spare blankets from the main closet and filling a lidded cup - complete with straw - with water before he made his way back to the bedroom. He steeled himself outside the door, running what he planned to say over and over in his head.

"Here are more blankets and some water," he began as he walked in. Jason accepted the water silently, taking a few small sips before setting it aside. Tim draped several of the blankets over him carefully, then stood back from the bed. He sucked in a deep breath.

"Jay, I-"

"So where're you gonna sleep, Timbo? You got a couch in this place?"

"I uhhh… hadn't thought about it actually," he admitted. "No, I don't. I'll probably just make myself a pallet on the floor, to be honest. Plenty of blankets left."

Jason shook his head. "No, don't sleep on the floor, man. There's plenty of room on the bed."

Tim immediately began to protest, but Jason raised his voice to over him. "I'm serious, get yourself outta that suit and climb in. I can use all the extra warmth I can get right now; blood loss fucking sucks."

Tim wavered. "I don't want to accidentally elbow you in the middle of the night, or worse, kick you or something."

Jason scoffed, then fiddled with his nasal cannula with a grimace. "Like that ever happens. You're not a kicker, anyway. If anything you might snuggle me until my stitches pop, but believe me, I'll wake you up loooong before it gets to that, so stop stalling and get in. After all," Jason explained with a loopy grin, "we're not really sharing a bed if you're not in here too."

Tim rolled his eyes and sighed, but didn't argue it further. He had wanted to keep a close eye on Jay tonight, anyway. He quickly shucked off the remaining pieces of his suit and carefully climbed into the right side of the bed - ideally he would have liked to have avoided Jason's sore side, but with the IVs on the other side he didn't really have a choice - purposefully giving the injured man wide clearance. Jason huffed and dragged him closer, pulling him nearly flush against his side.

Eventually they settled in together, the sound of Jason's breaths growing slower and softer while the drip-drip of the IVs filled the silences in between. Before Jason could drop off completely and before Tim lost his nerve entirely, he sucked in another long breath and went for it.

"Jay?"

"Yeah?"

"You really scared me tonight."

A long pause. "I know. I'm sorry."

"I… I don't know… I can't…" Tim struggled and he felt Jason shift beside him in confusion. "I'm not sure what I'd do if you had…"

"Died. Again," Jason finished, his words reminiscent of the many jokes he often made about his death. There was no humor in his voice this time, only understanding.

"Yeah. I'd… It scares me, Jason. It scares me how much it scares me. I'd really hate it if something happened to you."

"I'd really hate it if something happened to you, too," Jason admitted softly.

Tim let the silence stretch, weighing his next words carefully on his tongue and in his heart before he whispered them to the ceiling. He wasn't even sure Jason was awake anymore.

"Jay, I think I like you."

The admission floated into the space above and around them and Tim felt an overwhelming sense of peace at having finally gotten the words past his lips, words that he felt were true down to the depths of his soul, a truth that had grown between them for months without him ever realizing it.

Jason wasn't asleep. The response he gave without pause echoed in Tim's head until sleep finally took him and then all the way through the night and on into the morning.

"I like you too, Babybird."

---

Part 6 >>

#jaytimweek #jaytimweek2018 #jaytim #long text post #christmasriverswrites #my writing #tw blood #trigger warning: BLOOD #seriously if graphic depictions of blood bother you do not read this #I did it again; I wrote more compound-tense flashbacks #if I have to write another ''had'' I might scream #(*starts editing* *starts screaming*)#tbf it's really hard to time-jump a story without flashbacks so...#lesson learned: write the story in present tense next time #the slow burn has finally revealed some smoke ;3 And where there is smoke there are surely flames ;333?

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astronomyparkers · 7 years

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Skyline {VI}

Warnings: Language, blood mention, panic attack

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Word count: 2.7k

A/N: Oh my god you guys!! I have so much to discuss but first and foremost I want to thank all of you for making this story into what it is. I started this story two weeks ago and in those two weeks I’ve gained almost 2000 followers and have had success that I never even dreamed of. Thank you so much for all that you’ve done for me, for this story, and hopefully for stories I write in the future!!! Skyline wouldn’t be what it is today without you guys. Secondly, there will be a pt. 7!!! I know I keep saying this, but I really did mean for this to be the last part. It’s just that there are so many things I want to include and plot points I want to flesh out, and although I feel bad for writing angst chapter after angst chapter, I want to give you guys my all and I don’t want to short change you. Finally, I would like to thank my friends Zoe and Jen for helping me brainstorm ideas and helping finalize details and plot points. I love you guys so so much!! Also, everyone, again, I DO NOT HAVE A TAGS LIST!!! I put this at the beginning of every chapter, it’s in my bio, and I’ve made multiple posts but people keep spamming me about it. I am truly not trying to be mean, but I do my best to respond to every ask and message I get, and having to sort through a million people asking the same question is hard guys!!!. Before, I go, one last thing: because everyone has sent me in songs that they listen to that remind them of Skyline, I compiled them into a playlist along with ones I listen to!! Please give it a listen and try to listen in order, as the songs follow the storyline. Link is below. Enjoy everyone!!

skyline: a mixtape

{part i} {part ii} {part iii} {part iv} {part v}

Waking up the next morning was hard. Sleep was like temporary amnesia, and when you awoke alone in bed, your hand automatically reached out for the note that Spider-Man always left before he disappeared every night. Instead of feeling the usual smooth sheet of paper, however, you felt empty sheets that seemed colder than ever before. It was then that the events of the previous night tumbled into your head, from your request to know Spider-Man’s identity, to him saying I love you for the first time, to you giving him up.

You groaned and rubbed your hand across your face, fatigue taking over. More than anything, you wanted to fake an illness, stay in bed all day, and wallow in your thoughts, but you knew you had to get up. Although the breakup hurt you (did it count as a breakup if you were never really together in the first place?), you knew you made the right choice. There was no way a relationship with a superhero would work out if the significant other didn’t know who they were; if you were to fall in love, you would need to be able to fall completely.

With a sigh, you dragged yourself out of bed and got ready for the day, going through the motions of your morning routine. By the time you had reached Midtown and had taken a seat in your first class, which was American history, you were regretting your decision to not wallow. Wallowing was good for the soul. At least, it was better for the soul than listening to your teacher try to rap along to Hamilton.

Still, you went about your day with your best foot forward, and tried to act as normal as possible. You answered questions in each class, aced an English quiz, made conversation with your friends at lunch, and, by the time you reached chemistry, had sufficiently put Spider-Man to the back of your mind.

Alex was turned around in her seat just like any other day, back to the front of the room as she made conversation. You smiled at a joke she made as you unloaded your books, flipping open to the readings you were assigned yesterday.

“And the thing is, I know for a fact that—are you okay, Peter?”

At Alex’s mention of your friend, you looked up from your textbook to see Peter slumping into his seat. He looked tired, with bags under his eyes, and his sweater was rumpled like he had thrown it on haphazardly. His hair was a mess, too, as if he had spent a great deal of time running his hands through it anxiously.

“Yeah, I-I’m fine,” Peter mumbled, barely looking up at Alex to answer her. “Just tired.”

“I missed you at lunch today,” You turned toward your friend, concern apparent in your voice. “Where were you? We were going to study for the academic decathlon meeting next week, remember?”

“Yeah, I, uh,” Peter fiddled with a page in his notebook. “I was busy. Sorry.”

“Oh.” You bit your lip. “It’s okay. What were you busy with?”

“Just…” Peter fiddled more. “Stuff. For the Stark internship, you know?”

“Right.” You were confused as to why Peter was refusing to make eye contact with you. Had you done something wrong?

Even after the teacher walked in and called the class to order, you continued wracking your brain to figure out what you did to warrant this change in behaviour. Yesterday, Peter had been holding your hand and making you feel things that you weren’t quite sure you were supposed to feel. Things that, after you thought about them, helped push you to the decision that you had to end your affair with Spider-Man. It wasn’t as if you were going to rebound right away and make a move on your chemistry partner—you weren’t even sure if that was something you wanted. But you did want to spend time with your friend, which was kind of hard to do if he wouldn’t even look at you.

About twenty minutes before the end of the class, the voice of one of your school secretaries came through the PA system, interrupting your pondering.

“Peter Parker, please report to the principal’s office,” the voice crackled through the ancient speaker. “Peter Parker, to the principal’s office.”

The class made the typical teenage taunting noise as Peter began packing up his books and stood up, slinging his bag over his shoulder. He quickly glanced at you and, without saying a proper goodbye, walked out of the room.

Alex twisted around in her seat as the teacher tried to continue on with the lesson.

“Do you know what’s up with him?” Alex mouthed, trying to escape the notice of the teacher.

You shook your head as you stared with worry at the empty door frame.

Peter never returned. When the bell rang, you practically jumped out of your seat and darted through the halls, hoping Peter would be waiting for you at your locker like he usually was between classes.

To your disappointment, Peter was nowhere in sight. With a sigh, you opened your locker and retrieved the books you needed for your next class, all the while wondering what the principal could possibly have needed to talk to Peter about. As far as you knew, he hadn’t done anything wrong. Was everything okay? The more you thought, the more you worried, and you knew that you had to talk to Peter right away. Instead of turning down the next hallway for your class, you ducked into the nearest bathroom and pulled out your phone. No messages from him.

You leaned against the wall. Where would Peter have gone? You wracked your brain for all the places he and you had gone together in the school. The quad? No, you had passed it on your way to your locker and Peter was nowhere in sight. Maybe the library? You considered, but crossed it off your list. Whatever was happening, you had a feeling that Peter wouldn’t be somewhere that required silence; if anything, he would go somewhere that allowed him to make as much noise as he wanted or needed to.

The class bell rang from the hallway, and it was then that the answer flew into your mind. The shop in the basement of Midtown was secluded from other classrooms, far enough down that no one on higher floors could hear the noise of the machines, and Peter frequented it regularly for robotics club. While the shop wasn’t much of a lead, and it was likely to be empty, it was the only location that was even remotely close to being where Peter was.

You exited the bathroom quickly and made your way to the basement stairs as inconspicuously as possible, not wanting to get caught without a hall pass. You pulled open the door to the stairs and, with one final glance to make sure the coast was clear, ducked inside, shutting the door firmly behind you.

Carefully, you made your way down the dark, sloped passage. The lack of light made you doubt that Peter was in the shop at all, but as you walked further down, you began to hear movement. At the bottom of the stairs was soft light, like there was only a work bench lamp on. You peered around the corner of the stairwell, trying not to be seen.

Standing at the back wall was Peter, sweater off and in a sweat-soaked undershirt. You could see his frame shaking from your place on the stairs, and you could hear his ragged breaths as he dragged in lungful after lungful of air, fast and tight. Repeatedly, his right hand snapped out, punching the wall over and over again in the same spot.

You wanted to stop him, to run over and pull his hands to his sides and restrain him, but you felt paralyzed. What had happened in the last half hour that had caused him to react like this? You had never seen Peter in such an emotional state; you had to admit, it frightened you. Peter was your friend that built LEGO death stars for fun. He was your friend that almost exclusively wore shirts with science puns. He was your friend that walked you home and helped you study for tests and didn’t make fun of you for playing the same movie soundtrack over and over when you shared headphones on the subway. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t destructive. He wasn’t this person in front of you, who didn’t notice the blood on their fingers as they ran their hands over their face and through their hair.

Peter punched the wall a few more times, before coming to a jerky stop. He looked at the wall, and reached out a gentle hand, just touching the cracks in the plaster. You watched as a finger traced a streak of blood.

The boy stepped back from the wall, cradling his hand to his chest. He finally seemed to register what he was doing, seemed to realize that the skin of his knuckles had split open. He gazed down at his hand, body halfway turned towards you so that could see his tear streaked, blood stained face. With his left hand, he cautiously touched one of the knuckles, hissing in pain.

“What am I doing?” Peter muttered to himself, shaking his head adamantly. “What the fuck am I doing, what is this all for, who is this going to help, who the fuck is this going to save—” Peter began gulping in air again, squeezing his injured hand to his chest. The tears bubbled up again and began to escape his eyes as he began sobbing again, the sound of it breaking out of his chest like he was a prisoner in his own body, breaking down against his will. Peter coughed after a few rough breaths until he finally let out a scream. You felt your heart break in your chest as you watched your friend’s legs give out, and he collapsed onto the floor as his sobs shook him.

Seeing Peter on the floor caused something inside you to snap. You quickly wiped your face and rushed over to your friend, wrapping your arms around him and dropping to the floor.

Peter tensed for a moment, looking over at you but not completely seeing you. “Y-Y/N?”

“Peter,” Your hands moved from his shoulders to his face, looking him in the eye. “Peter, what’s wrong? What happened?”

“I—” Peter continued sucking in air faster and faster, tears still pouring down his cheeks. “There was—in—”

“Breathe, Peter,” Your thumbed stroked his cheeks as you measured your breathing. “Come on, watch me. In and out.”

Peter tried to match his breathing to yours, sobs still choking out of his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut again, lowering his head to the ground. Your hands moved from his cheeks to the back of his neck, gently rubbing in a way that you hoped was soothing.

Peter’s head came forward to rest on your shoulder. You knew that his tears and blood were staining your shirt, but you didn’t care. You brought one of your hands up to his head, running your fingers through his hair. You held him as tightly as you could, hoping with all your heart that everything would be okay.

After a few moments, Peter’s breathing regulated and his sobs quieted down. Still stroking his head and neck, you approached the question again.

“Peter,” You whispered gently. “What happened?”

“There was—” You felt Peter suck in a gulp of air. “There was an accident, in the city. A bad guy, with some of—some of the Vulture’s weapons still. He—he caused a huge car accident, with at least ten vehicles, and—”

“And what?” You steeled yourself for the answer about to come out of Peter’s mouth. You had a sneaking suspicion of what it might be.

“And May was in the accident.”

Peter broke down again, clinging tighter to you as fresh tears made their way down his face. You hugged him closer to you, as close as you possibly could.

“Is she—?” You knew Peter lost his parents when he was little, and you couldn’t even possibly imagine what it would be like for him to lose another one.

“She’s okay,” Peter mumbled. “A little bruised, and without a working car, but—but she’s okay. She called from the hospital; they’re keeping her overnight to monitor her.”

“Oh my…thank God,” You held onto Peter tighter, relief coursing through your veins.

“But, Y/N,” Peter began shaking again, and he pulled himself away from you. “People—people died. And more are injured, and—”

“Peter, none of that is your fault,” You protested, hand still lingering on the back of the boy’s neck. “There’s nothing you can do about it.”

“Yeah, okay,” Peter raked his injured hand through his hair, wincing in pain as his gaze flickered to the cracked plaster. “Can’t keep my family safe, can’t protect the people I love, but at least I can fuck up a wall pretty good, right?”

“Hey.” You grabbed Peter’s hands in both of yours, squeezing as tight as you could without hurting him more. “It’s not your responsibility to protect everyone!”

“Then whose is it?” Peter turned to you with eyes that seemed to go a shade darker as he spoke. “Spider-Man? He hasn’t done much good, Y/N.”

“Don’t do this,” You shook your head. “Spider-Man—”

“Spider-Man couldn’t protect you from getting beat in the head with a gun this summer!” Peter’s shaking returned as his voice got rougher. “Spider-Man couldn’t protect those people on Queensboro Bridge! And he couldn’t protect everyone today, and because of him, people died. And my aunt was almost one of them.”

“But she wasn’t—”

“But someone’s aunt was.” Peter’s hands gripped yours tighter, tight enough to look like it hurt. “Someone’s aunt is never going to come home because of what happened today.”

“Peter, trust me,” You looked down at his bloody hands. “Spider-Man is only human. He can’t protect everyone, and we can’t expect him to.”

“Yes we can!” Peter tore his hands out of your grip. “If—if he can’t protect everyone, then who can? Answer that, Y/N! If you have the power to help, and you don’t, then the bad things that happen are on you. And it’s your fault if the people you love get hurt.”

Peter stood up and grabbed his things in a hurry, haphazardly throwing his bag over his shoulder.

“Peter, wait!” You tried calling after your friend, but he was already hurrying up the stairs, tears beginning to fall once more as he left your sight.

You sighed, rubbing your hand against your forehead. Your attention turned back to the wall, where Peter’s blood was beginning to dry in and around the cracks in the plaster that had appeared due to his punching. Cautiously, you reached out a hand and lightly touched the wall. A few loose pieces of plaster crumbled away, coating your fingers in white dust.

“How did he…?” The words tumbled out of your mouth as you rubbed your fingers together. You knew that Peter wasn’t a weakling, but you had no idea your friend was strong enough to punch holes in walls.

You couldn’t stop seeing his bloody and teary face in your mind, and the image stayed with you for the rest of your day. From the walk to the subway to the train ride home to climbing into bed that night, you replayed the pain in his eyes, and those eyes were the last thing you saw until you closed your own and drifted off to sleep.

A sleep that didn’t last long. You awoke at around two am to knocking on your window, which really, you should have expected. Did you really believe that Spider-Man wouldn’t come back for you?

{part vii}

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sanhatation · 7 years

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ri’s thicc 2017 reflection post !

its still quite a few hours away from 2018 for me but i just wanted to take this time to reflect on my absolutely Lovely 2017!!! yay time 2 get sappy as i word vomit and overshare about my year on tumblr.com !!!!

thank you loads to all of my LOVELY followers !!!!!!!!! yall are the cutest, make my day on the daily ! i wish you the best 2018 that the world can offer !!! stay healthy, take time for yourself, love yourself, love others, and be kind! 💓💓

this Riley Rant here, is gonna be here for me than anything. like a Fat journal entry !! and i am an Oversharer so here she goes [jeopardy music]

to begin, i have met and befriended so many amazing people on here this year and WOW!!!!!! lovely and supportive and talented, beautiful aroha friends??? it doesnt get better than that!!!!! i would attempt to tag all of u but yall know who u are ;)) im endlessly grateful to those of you who have really made being on here worth it. heck ya sometimes im like “why do i even spend time on here” but then!!!! idk sunny comes swingin in with just a heart full of love or sara comes swingin in with her eggs or marian comes swingin in with her rare pairs or j comes swingin in with her baking posts and thats not even HALF of it !!!!! seriously.....love you guys tons.

to my friends who i have had the pleasure of remaining your friend this year and getting closer to u !! i love you. i really dont know how yall handle me especially 2015/2016 me?? a MESS! yall are the REALEST. again, yall know who u are ;)) i hope we can continue to talk and have fun in 2018, i wish yall the best.

and lastly....heres a THICC shoutout to my six shining stars.

as for me as an individual, 2017 was a freaking Whack year. it was incredible....dare i say, iconic. and now its time for.....RILEY’S 2017 HIGHLIGHTS !!!!!! (also includes: the sucky parts bc even those allowed me to grow !)

- man, did 2017 start out pretty rough when my country decided it was a good idea to elect a freakin cheeto for president. however! i had the lovely opportunity to attend the women’s march at my capital the day before inauguration !! and it was powerful!!!! truly an experience ill treasure forever!

- binch....thank u Winter Dream for my whole life. tbh i wont forget sobbing at my best friend’s house when it dropped. thank u Miss Again Dance Practice. thank u Miss You & Me MV. thank u Miss Cotton Candy Choreography. thank u.

- ah.....when some pinhead started that tr*mp chanting at a basketball game lol! so iconic that we made the new york times! gotta love that....

- OMG !!! HOW TO SUCCEED !!!! an absolutely amazing experience. granted, the male lead was a Snake, but i had a blast. Rosemary will forever be close to my heart and ill always cry a little when i hear Brotherhood of Man or Paris Original !! such an awesome opportunity. i learned a frick ton about myself as a performer. i improved a ton in acting and dancing, and also came to learn that i am very good at receiving instructions and memorizing lines quickly. i learned that i need to work on some of my facial expressions and i also learned some of my habits ! i miss u Queenie H2$ :’’)

- had my first tap dance performance ever??? i really enjoyed learning tap, and i hope to pick it back up in the future !!!!

- BIIIIIINCCH i had the opportunity to visit my sister in korea!!!!!!! wow.....truly the BEST week of my entire year, maybe even LIFE! i went to the dog cafe, the sheep cafe, mcountdown, the lunar festival kick off, gwanghwamun palace, dongdaemun, shopped a ton around hongdae, ate food by the han river, visited namsan tower (but not without getting lost), hit the noraebang TWICE, walked into a private Fantagio board meeting, ate delicious chicken on a STIIICK, ran in the rain, ordered delivery mcdonalds, had the BEST fried chicken, met a bunch of monks, was led around dongdaemun by a very old korean man, SAW EUNWOO AND DOYEON AND RECEIVED MUCH LOVE AND NEARLY DIED, hit the convenience store literally every day, snuck out, GOT A WAVE FROM KEY :((( , bought Winter Dream and lots of skin care products and lots of cute clothes, had the clearest skin ive ever had in my life, went to a buddhist temple, witnessed a drunk man fall into the splits inbetween the ground and the subway, ran up and down 1000 subway stairs, fell in love with a man named Peanut, drank too much banana and strawberry milk, sobbed my face off at the festival as korean grandmas bowed to me, tried tons of new foods (including the nastiest bowl of cheese ramyun ive ever had in my life), bought lots of socks, rode an airplane for......like 40 hours in total? literally the best week of my Life

- had my junior vocal recital ! it was a cute girl. i felt my acting had really improved since sophomore voice recital !!

- had prom on my 17th birthday and had a jolly good time !!! my mom made my dress and i felt like a Stunner

- dream pt. 01...she rly is that Bad Bih. best era. miss her loads. none of us ever deserved her.

- les mis !!!!!! two whole weeks.....another Best Time. i learned so much, made so many lifetime friends, had a blast, sang my heart out.....such a freaking good time. i miss her

- got to spend the ENTIRE summer with momo!!!!!!!!!!! literally the ENTIRE!!!!! and what did we do? hit the park, watched lemonade mouth and fantastic beasts and starstruck and that random unicorn movie, made the Best slime, made that ICONIC weki meki video, laughed a ton, cried a ton, stayed up all night for the sunrise, stayed later for the sunset & thunderstorm, walked home in the pouring rain & lightning (IT IS VERY WET), went to the beach, met many dogs, got me hairs cut, befriended that Cat, and went to a painting class

- cabin week !!!!!!!!!!! whatta lovely time

- my brother’s wedding !!!! honestly? my best outfit of the year... had a bangin time. his wife is truly a cutie and i love her tons!

- there was that Mess in august and i still feel sorry to those who felt hurt because of it. i learned a lot about how things especially on the internet can be easily misunderstood and misinterpreted, so u gotta be EXTRA careful with your words !

- through that i also came to accept that u cant get everyone to understand or like u, and tbh that is okay for now. all we can do when we make mistakes is try to understand & learn, apologize, and try to better ourselves. and sometimes even when u do that, u still may not be liked. and thats okay. as long as you are trying your best and recognize mistakes, its all good.

-skinny dipped at girls time wow what a freaking TIME

- woah dude i dropped out of my arts school lmao!!! the BIGGEST change in my life since 2014.;..wow! i dont even have the words to say how much stress was lifted off of me and i love senior yr !!!!

- momo came to CT!!!!!!

- seeing svt live !!!!! but tbh the best part was seeing momo, “I LOVE A MAN WHO CAN SEW”, “I!!!!!!!!!! LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! JIHOON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”, “IM UNDERAGE”, and when Mo BLASTED to that other line

- LAKE COMPOUNCE LMAOOOOO I LOVE JIHOON PT2!!!!

- my mom, sister, and i took an eight week painting class! i finished two paintings and learned a ton!! honestly a good time

- dream pt. 02.....shes that other Bad Bih....absolutely adore her

- i also learned that its okay to cut people off who are toxic. especially if you have already informed them that they make u feel bad, they are not worth trying to please or keep around. take care of yourself. similarly, its okay to block people, and you dont owe them an explanation

- MADI CAME HOME !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! my other half...missed her so much :(((

- riley’s calligraphy christmas !!!!! was so much fun and i loved people’s reactions and i loved learning arohas favorite astro lyrics !!!

- ah...............one of the hardest weeks of my whole life. the pain still lingers, and i know itll hit me again like a boulder the next time we see only four of my angels standing on stage. for four months, i was worried sick about another member, and i even knew he was hurting, that his mental illness was real. my heart aches and there is a piece of it missing, but it will never be replaced. i know you are much happier now, jjong. i love you.

- and also because of that, i have been able to think a lot about how i live my life. thoughts like ‘am i watching out for my family and friends enough?’ ‘am i listening enough?’ ‘is this funny comment worth it?’ ‘am i happy?’ im trying to be better. to not take things for granted, to only be kind, to always be there for those i love, for those who love me. and i will try my hardest to not complain about small or petty inconveniences. to try harder to be optimistic.

- christmas was with my whole family for the first time in five years ;;; she was such a cute girl!

and now on to the next act !!!! its called RILEY’S NEW YEARS RESOLUTIONS !!!!!!!!!!

1. lets start with the basic stuff that im 99% not gonna pull through on: keep ur room clean. keep everywhere u go clean, it makes mom upset. eat better, u know there is other foods in this house besides peanut butter and pepperoni and popcorn.

2. send out at least one Lovely Ask per day. i made this goal sometime over the summer, and i did it for a few months until i started to forget ;; its not that hard, u just gotta remember to do it !!

3. sis.....quit Procrastinating.......GET ur FREAKING application done...do ur homework the night before lmao! call who u need to !!! write those thank u cards!!!! go get them scholarships!!!! enter that graphic design contest lmao!!! just DO IT!!!!!!!!!!!! time is wasting

4. just be happy

#hot frick this is four pages on google docs FHFJJDSLASJ #anyway heres a word dump #if u actually read this......ur insane................and i love u #about me !#riley's thicc 2017 post #riley really really rambles

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briefbouquetcreatorlove-blog · 6 years

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