#also I am serious I think I did dislocate a rib

[grayeyedandroid]

I just rewatched the tmnt clips I posted tonight and I think I dislocated a rib laughing so hard. help

[nothing-but-dreamy]

MISSION: FAILED

Pairing: LEON KENNEDY x CHRIS REDFIELD x GENDER NEUTRAL!READER

Words: 2.357

Warnings: angst - fluff; mention of wounds

Synopsis: While the boys were on a mission, YN was on their own. An easy standart mission - and still something went wrong. Now, YN has to deal with the aftermath of their decision as the guys come back home.

"Holy sh- fuck!", you breathed in shock, watching how the Tyrant grabbed the rocket launcher to aim into the wrong direction. You raised your arms, waving them through the air to beckon him into your position, "Bite my ass, you motherfu-"

An explosion, as loud as hundred bangers, was shaking the district of the town you had your mission in. Windows were breaking, debris were flying around and the night got illuminated as if a sun had been exploded.

***

"I'm so looking forward to a hot shower.", Leon groaned while rubbing the back of his aching neck as he and Chris left the airfield.

"My plan? Greeting YN, a hot shower and falling straight into bed to sleep one week through.", Chris said, completely exhausted, rolling with his right shoulder where he had pulled a muscle after a long fight.

"YN... Yeah...", Leon breathed dreamingly and smiled softly about the image of you he had in mind suddenly, "You think they’re already back from their mission?", he asked as he realized neither of them had heard anything of you.

"Well... I'm sure they are-"

"Redfield! Kennedy!", an agent called out while running after the two men to give Chris the cellphone he was carrying.

While Chris answered the call, Leon waited patiently and listened. But the longer the call lastest the more irritated Leon became. Mostly, because he just heard your name and saw Chris' reaction about whatever got said. The questions Chris asked weren't very calming as well. As Chris said 'And how are they doing?', Leon became nervous.

Chris hung up and stood there facing Leon with his back to find the right way to tell him the news. But Chris knew, there was no easy way, "YN, they ... they had some troubles during their last mission..."

*

"Whoa! Leon, slow the fuck down!", Chris called out and clawed on the handle of the passenger seat above his head while he also seeked hold on the dashboard with his other hand.

But Leon ignored him and drove - no he flew - down the streets in high-speed. Chris was glad that it was already late enough that barely someone was on the streets. Yet, Chris was still concerned, "Leon, I'm serious! You kill us both if you keep driving this reckless! And that won't be helpful for YN as well.", he said and was glad to see that it had worked. Leon slowed down a little bit but he still drove frighteningly.

Ten minutes later - for a way of usually twenty minutes - Leon stopped the car in front of your apartment building and both Chris and Leon jumped out of the vehicle to run up the few stairs. Quickly, Chris opened the door and ran through the rooms to search you. First, he looked into the bedroom, expecting you there and as he didn’t find you there, Chris stormed through your living room into your kitchen.

Shocked, you stood next to the fridge with a glass in your hand, almost dropping it, as you got faced by the two tall guys you called your boyfriends who were staring at you with a mixed expression of worry, concern and anger. You had no idea who told them what kind of information but you were sure the sight of you must be scary.

On your forehead was a big scratch which got stitched several times and patched up. Your left arm was in a sling because your wrist was fractured and your shoulder had been dislocated. You just wore a loose fit, cropped shirt and boxer briefs which showed off the thick bandage around your rib cage because three ribs were broken and one got a dangerous crack. Your right foot was also bandaged because of your sprained ankle.

Before you could say something, Chris stepped forward, pointing at you with his forefinger, "You! You should be in bed! Why are you even up?", he demanded to know with a booming, angry voice, eyebrows drawn together and all.

Instinctively, you stepped back, bumping against the kitchen counter which let you flinch by the pain that got shot through your body, "I- I was thirsty and-"

"Thirsty? Look at you! You can barely stand on your own feet!", Chris called out, a bit too raging for his own liking as he saw your fearful expression but he couldn’t stop himself.

Leon stepped forward, trying to stop the taller man but Chris was already on fire. Chris shook Leon's hand from his shoulder, stepping even closer to you, "You know what they told us? That you were fighting against a Tyrant! A Tyrant! Your mission was to infiltrate and to gather information! Not to fight against a FUCKING TYRANT!"

"Please, Chris, calm down.", you said softly, trying to sound reassuringly while you were hissing with pain as you noticed how painful it was to speak louder than just a whisper.

Chris saw it and somehow, instead of calming down, to see you in pain fueled his temper even more, "I shall calm down? You could be dead now and I SHALL CALM DOWN? You know, I got informed that you triggered the Tyrant to aim for you. You did that because of- what, huh?", he asked and stepped threateningly closer, "I don't get it! Why are you always so cocky in extremely dangerous situations?"

Your eyes flickered back and forth between his. You never had seen Chris this angry before at least, not directed at you. You swallowed thickly by the sight of his fuming eyes, "I- I was... I tried to-"

Chris leant even closer, towering above your meager figure in front of him, "Yeah? I'm listening to your flimsy excuses! You tried- what?", Chris grunted through gritted teeth and even if he saw you flinching from him once again, he couldn't change to be this angry.

Leon saw your scared eyes and the pain that shook your body. He stepped between you and Chris to push the latter away from you, "Chris, calm down a bit, will you?"

Very reluctantly, with his eyes still glued at you, Chris followed Leon's request and left the kitchen to step out on the balcony for some fresh air.

You took a deep breath, "Thanks, Leon-", but you stopped as you saw Leon's angry expression. Obviously, this Tango was still not over for you.

"Don’t worry, I won't scream at you but you should know that I'm not amused about this, as well. You not just failed your mission. You also put yourself into danger. What were you thinking, huh? I read your mission file. There was nothing complicated on it.", Leon said serious.

Leon never screamed. Most of the time, he was composed even if he was upset. He was angry in his own way and this was almost as worse as the screaming from Chris. Screaming was a temperament that ran free. But Leon’s calmness even if he was angry was scary in another way because you never knew what he really felt. You couldn’t look behind his facade. It would be easier for you if he would scream like Chris did it but in the end both men were too different. Which was the fact why you loved both so much. You looked at the ground, avoiding Leon’s eyes, "I know. Both of you have all the rights to be mad at me.", you whispered meekly.

Leon stepped forward, he wanted to touch you but he feared to hurt you with all the scratches and bruises on your body that pained him to see, "YN, we... We're not mad. We're... We were scared, alright? As Chris got the call, they just told him that your mission failed and that you are serious injured.", he admitted low with a concerned expression. Softly, Leon cupped your face with one hand, guiding you to look at him, "Chris cares so much about you. We both do. We both love you, YN. You can't put yourself in danger just because you want some fun.", he said softly.

You nodded slowly, leaning against his warm touch, "I just... I just did it to distract the Tyrant from my teammates. They were the ones in real danger. I was kinda safe behind a half ruined wall. Well, at least, I thought I was. As the Tyrant fired the rocket launcher, I tried to jump aside but, well, you see the outcome of this idea. My safe hideout fell onto me.", you said with a shake of your head, still not sure how you had survived this nightmarish trip at all.

Leon, who chuckled softly, stroked over your cheek with his thumb, "You and Chris are resembling each other more than you think when it comes to such stupid ideas to safe others. I guess that's why he's so scared because you do things as he would do."

"Yeah, I know. Maybe... You think I should talk with him?", you asked carefully, gnawing on your lower lip. You hated fights mostly with the boys and you were eager to change that back into harmony again.

Leon smiled softly, just glad that you were still in their life before he leant forward and kissed you caringly but strongly to show you all the admiration he held for you. As he left your lips again, he nodded, "Yes. Go to him. I'm sure he will have cooled down by now."

**

Chris stood on your balcony, leaning against the barricade with his arms. His eyes were glued at the horizon, watching the city's skyline and the starry night sky at the same time. He heard you stepping out on the balcony with your naked feet. He felt your presence next to him but he couldn't look at you. He still felt angry and ... scared. Slowly, Chris kneaded his hands to channel his temper somewhere else than into your face again.

You watched Chris' impressive, broad frame against the dark sky. His profile was the one you could stare at for hours without getting bored. But you also could tell that he was still upset. So, you hobbled slowly next to his side, leaning against his muscled arm to rest your head there, "I'm sorry, Chris. I really am.", you whispered, looking at the same view as he did.

“You were reckless.”, Chris pointed out without looking at you.

Smiling, you watched how a soft breeze tousled his soft brown hair and because you had missed the feeling of his strands, you raked your fingers slowly through it, “I had a reason.”

“Oh, yeah? Which one?”, Chris asked, enjoying your affection with closed eyes.

“I had to help my comrades. They were in danger because of the Tyrant. We got discovered and as the Tyrant followed us, I had to do something. I was in a safe hideout. The Tyrant hadn’t seen me. But they weren’t. I couldn’t just watch and do nothing.”, you explained softly but serious.

Finally, Chris looked at you, all the anger was erased from his eyes and left was just sadness and worries as he saw your wounds once again, “Don't do this. Don’t play this card. That's not fair.”, he said, stroking a strand of your hair out of your face.

You smiled broadly, “Why not? Just because I know you would do the same?”

Chris chuckled low before he looked back into your eyes, “Yeah ... Don't use it against me to justify your action.”

“Well, at least you're not mad at me anymore.”, you pointed out as you saw the small, lovely smile on his lips.

Chris cupped your face carefully with both hands, trying to avoid hurting you, “I was scared. Not really mad. YN, you... You can't leave us alone. I don't wanna lose you. We both don't wanna lose you.”, he said while staring into your eyes.

With your free hand, you stroked softly over his chest, “I know. Chris, I... None of you won't get rid of me so easily.”

“You promise me that, honey?”

“I do, Chris.”, you whispered before he kissed you longingly which showed you how scared he had been before. As he leant back again, you took his hand in yours, knotting your fingers with his to bring him back inside where Leon was already waiting, happy to see that all waves had calmed down again.

And then, the caring-hell broke loose. Both guys were busy taking care of you no matter how tired they were and how often you said you would be fine. Without listening to you, they put you back to bed. Chris got you the water you wanted while Leon ordered pizza.

While waiting, Chris took a shower and Leon watched out that you wouldn’t leave the bed again and told you about their mission. As Chris was done, Leon took a shower and you rolled with your eyes because then, Chris watched out for you. With the only difference that Chris made you laugh which was painful but worth it to see this broad, tough guy in a better mood again.

The pizza arrived as Leon also left the shower and as everyone was sated and tired, the boys brought the stuff into the kitchen just to find you were fast asleep in the middle of the bed as they were coming back. With soft smiles, they watched you.

"They’re so sweet when they’re sleeping.", Leon said grinning.

"Yeah, because they’re can't do anything stupid then.", Chris admitted and matched Leon’s grin.

Both guys crawled next to you, carefully cuddling against you to make sure they weren't hurting you but at the same time, they felt your presence. While Leon’s arm laid protectively over your stomach, stroking your skin softly with his thumb, Chris grabbed your hand and intertwined your fingers while his head rested softly on your shoulder.

You awoke by their soft touches. With a sleepy smile you watched pleased how these tough guys were sleeping peacefully next to you. You thanked once again to have them in your life and during your next mission, maybe, you would watch out more to keep your promise you had given to Chris.

[layanasstories]

Twenty – Six

Despite Dan trying his best to drive carefully, his turns were sharp and he took bumps too hard. Purely because he had to drive to the hospital as quickly as possible. I heard Jake moan in pain with every turn or bump. I found it hard to look at him, his shirt was ripped open. On his chest, on which I gently stroked my fingers none the less than two nights ago, had been dealt with hard and I saw two long cuts, the blood that had run out was already starting to dry. There were obvious bruises on his ribs. His face was bruised, his eyes, which I drowned in the first time I saw him, are now swollen and blue. The lips I loved to kiss are now split. The skin on his jaw, which I held lovingly, was torn, and blood was dripping from it. I know I must be strong for him now, but my heart broke at the sight. My eyes filled with tears. I wanted so badly to take him in my arms and soothe him. But the thought of hurting him even more held me back. Even though Dan was driving, he gently squeezed my knee. "He'll be fine okay. We're almost there." We were indeed almost at the hospital, we took a left turn and I already saw the hospital. Dan stopped the car in front of the emergency room entrance. We rush out of the car, Dan was the one who ran in for help. And soon returned with two nurses, helping Jake on a stretcher. I then saw them hurry back into the building with Jake.

Before I could even run after it, Dan handed his phone to me "I believe this call is for you". "Hello who am I speaking with?" I asked. "With Nick. Consider my debt paid. No one got out of the building alive, and if they weren't dropped by our bullets, then by the fire that's burning now," he said. "Thank you Nick. Everyone on the team still okay?". "Some scratches and bruises here and there, but nothing serious or what we can't survive." "Thank you again, and your debt is paid." I disconnected and handed the phone back to Dan. "You're getting more bad ass by the minute," he said with a laugh. I raised my eyebrow at him and shook my head as I entered the entrance.

At the reception I immediately asked where they had taken Jake. "I'm sorry ma'am, but you can't go to him now. The doctor is working on him. Also I still need to write down some details from sir, can you help me with that?" she was very patient and kind. But her question confused me for a moment. I let out a sigh "Sure, what do you want to know?". "First his name, first and last name please". I stood there, making up the information on the spot, because I knew Jake wouldn't want his details to be known, but mostly because I really didn't know them. "Chris Davis" I answer. "Thank you, and his date of birth?". I had to think about this a bit longer, his age had to match his appearance. "November fifth, nineteen eighty-eight," I answer again. "And last question for now, the rest can be done later. Is he taking medication at the moment?". "I don't know, unless energy drinks count" I gave a small smile, because an image of Jake behind his computer popped into my mind. "No I don't think so." She smiled back at me. "Thank you. You can take a seat there and the doctor will come to you in a moment, when they are done with him." she pointed to a waiting area.

I saw doctors and nurses rushing around, busy with taking care of the patients. I looked for a seat, and waited for them to finish with him. I was lost in thought until the doctor came to us. "You are Chris Davis partner?" he asked me. "Yes, I am" I answered him. "Well, as far as we've been able to see, there's nothing serious. He has a broken rib, luckily his jaw is not broken, but has been dislocated. We stitched his cuts and took care of his bruises. He has also been given some painkillers, and it won't be long before they start working. He has to stay overnight for observation. As soon as we know which room is available for him, the nurse will lead you to it." "Thank you so much." I gave a small smile.

Fortunately, a nurse came to us fairly quickly, and she told where Jake's room is. I stood up thanked the nurse and got to Jake's room. Dan had followed me, but stopped in front of the room. "Do you think you'll make it from here on your own?" he looked at me concerned. "Yes, I think so" I stepped forward and gave Dan a big hug. "I don't know how to thank you for, well, what you did today". He hugged me back "Always." He cleared his throat. "If you don't mind, I'm going back to the group now. I'll be back tomorrow to pick you up." I let go of him "Please, will you tell the others we're okay? But maybe you should leave out the part of Nick and his team." "I didn't even think for a moment about telling them. And if they want to know something, which of course they want, they should just ask you.". With one last reassuring squeeze of my hand, he turned and headed for the exit.

I was alone in the hallway, in front of Jake's room. I took a deep breath before opening the door. Very softly I stepped inside, closing the door behind me. I leaned against the door and looked at him. The room was quiet, all I heard was his unsteady breathing. I hoped his painkillers would work soon. As softly as I could I walked to the edge of his bed. There was a stool on which I sat and took his hand in mine. I gave little kisses on his hand, letting all the tension drain from me, causing the tears to flow. I suddenly felt his thumb caress my hand. I looked up at him, wiping the tears from my face with my other hand. I saw a tear in the corner of his eye. "I'm here Jake. I'm here and I won't leave okay" I tried to reassure him. He let go of my hand, and tried to move up in his bed. Then he tapped on the bed "Come here" he said softly. "But maybe I hurt you" I looked at him uncertainly. "I don't care, I want you in my arms." I did as he asked, very carefully I lay down on my side next to him, I put my head on his shoulder, with my arm over his stomach, and my leg over his. He put his arm around me, and kissed my head very softly, resting his lips there. I felt him take a deep breath, and hold it for a moment, as if he now realizes that I'm really there. "I love you" were his words just before he fell asleep, because the medication kicked in.

[massivelycreepypineapple]

The Accident

Request:  I am here again!! I am so glad your requests are open😍 can I request on Jensen and daughter reader story? Jensen is a doc and reader is in accident. Jensen is her doc after she brought in hospital so no emergency no needed, dislocated shoulder maybe? Ooh ooh Needle phobia also? I wanted to add some more stuff but I am so excited that your req are open that I forgot everything 😂 please write if you can think of some more. Angst, fluffy stuff please? Gracias❤️

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Daughter!Reader

A/N: I hope this is alright. :)

Feedback is welcome!

Word Count: 2059

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You should’ve known that nothing gets past your dad, especially when you show up at his work place with a dislocated shoulder along with a small cut on your side to boot. It wasn’t anything serious really and not to mention it was such a ludicrously gained injury too, but leave it to the hospital staff to page your dad who was head of Orthopaedic surgery. 

“Where is she?! Where’s Y/N?!” Your dad’s voice could be heard. The nurse looking after you in one of the rooms turned around just in time to see Jensen storming in. 

“Hi Daddy” You grinned at him. You were a little loopy from the painkillers.

“Y/N! What happened, baby?” He looked so worried and out of breathe and he was still in his scrubs. It would seem he ran here after his surgery. He grabbed the clipboard with your details on it and began going through it.

“Nothing big. Just my bone fell out of place when I fell off my cycle. Stupid motorbike dude crashed into me.” 

“What?! Y/N!”

“Dad it’s fine. It was an accident. He lost control.” His anger sobered you up a little and you tried to calm him down.

“Lost control?! It could’ve been worse!” He was angry, his baby girl got into an accident and he didn’t know how to process it.

“But it’s not. It’ll be fine. Besides it happened close to the hospital. So some people helped me come here.” You made the mistake of shrugging at him and winced immediately. Luckily the painkillers were doing their job. 

“Don’t move, Ms. Ackles. You could make it worse.” The nurse said. She was a sweet thing who was very gentle with you.

He sighed. He didn’t want to argue about it right now. So instead he made his way to you to check on your shoulder. He gently grabbed your arm to check how bad the damage was, making you gasp in pain and tear up. 

“It’s going to be okay. We’ll just pop it back in no time.” He said, calming down to not spook you out even more.

“Daddy, it hurts.” You said wincing from the throbbing pain on your shoulder and sides.

“I know, honey. Just try to relax okay?” He said, grabbing everything needed for after fixing your shoulder. 

He came back beside you and motioned for the nurse to hold you. You looked at them wide eyed, the fear sobering you up a little. The nurse had a solid grip on your uninjured shoulder while Jensen grabbed your other arm, getting ready.

“Okay, on count of three, we’ll pop it back in.” He said looking into your tear filled eyes. 

You didn’t dare move. You sat there stiff as a board. 

“Sweetheart, you need to relax.” He whispered worriedly. 

“I can’t. It hurts a lot and I’m feeling cold. My left side hurts. I can’t relax.” You said sniffling. 

“Okay, look at me baby girl.” Jensen said standing in front of you. 

You looked into his eyes and a tiny sense of calm washed over you. Your dad always had a way about him that made you feel so safe. 

“Tell me about your day.” He smiled at you. 

“I-I didn’t do much actually. I just spent it watching a movie in my room before this.”

“Yeah? Which one?” 

“Ice age.”

Jensen laughed at that. “You always loved that one. You used to recite the dialogues by heart as a kid.” 

“Hey, it’s a really awesome movie.” You smiled a little.

“I agree.” He was rubbing your arm, trying to warm you up a little. He felt you relaxing as you talked more about the movie and while you were distracted, he motioned for the nurse to hold you once more. 

He watched your eyes widen when you realised what was happening. “Hey c’mon. Tell me more, don’t stop.” 

“Daddy-”

“I really like the tiger. He’s hilarious.” 

“Y-yeah. He’s like you when you’re grumpy.” You said smiling very little.

“Hey now. I always earn my grumpiness.” He said smirking at you. 

And as soon as you relaxed some more, Jensen popped the bone back into place making you gasp out in pain and gripping his scrubs tightly.

“Shh, it’s over. It’s over. That wasn’t so bad.” He kissed your forehead and wiped away the tears streaming down your cheeks. 

“It was horrible! You didn’t warn me!” You snapped at him, still reeling from the pain. 

He put your arm and shoulder in a tight sling and then hugged you tightly to him, placing kisses on your head and summering apologies for not warning you.

“I don’t like you right now.” You mumbled into his chest. 

“Aw, man I’ll have to make up for this then” He said pulling back and booping your nose like he always did when you were a child. “Now lie back. Let’s take a look at your bruise.”

You did as he asked and lifted up your top. Jensen pulled back the bandaid stopping the blood to take a look at the gash. He noticed the small bruises around the wound going up to your ribs and he sucked in a breath. He pressed around the area to see how bad the damage was, making you flinch. 

“Luckily you don’t need stitches. And no ribs broken.” He mumbled mostly to himself.

You felt him, clean the cut once more before dressing it with a fresh bandaid. You noticed the frown on his face and your heart hurt for worrying your dad like that. 

“I’m sorry.” You whispered. 

Jensen’s eyes snapped back to yours immediately, “What for?”

“I got hurt and worried you.” You said. “You told me not to cycle during peak hours and I still went.”

“We’ll talk about it later.” He gave you a tight smile. You knew he was still upset with you for not listening to him and you felt really guilty. You were his only child and you were all he had after your mum died and it made him over protective of you sometimes.

Meanwhile, the nurse came over to you with a shot. The second you noticed it your eyes went wide. 

“Daddy, no please.” You whimpered. You hated needles. You were so terrified of them and the very thought of something sharp sticking into your body filled you with so much anxiety. 

“Sweetheart, this will prevent infections.”

“Please no I’ll take my chances. Get that thing away from me!” You were doing your best to not cry again. You already shed tears over your shoulder and you didn’t want to cry again over a stupid needle. 

“Y/N, I know you hate them, but it’ll be over before you know it.” He tried to sooth you.

“NO!” You yelled, trying to get up. But in a hurry you moved your injured shoulder making you cry out in pain. 

“Okay, okay. No shots. Just take a breath baby.” Jensen was doing everything to keep you still and not aggravate your shoulder further. He could see you were going into a panic attack and he was freaking out internally. There were only a few times he had seen you get this way and it had killed him. 

He coached you through the breathing and you had calmed down a little. The nurse had moved away to give you two some space which you were grateful for. Once you’d calmed down Jensen asked the nurse to place the shot on the table.

“I’ll take it from here. Thank you.” He smiled at her before she left. 

“Please daddy.” Your lips were trembling and the sight of you broke his heart. You looked like a little kid all over again and it reminded him of the first time you had to get a shot for getting hurt. You had created a big fuss and he had to carry you and walk around the hospital till you calmed down. 

“Be a good girl for me, baby? I promise this is the last one. After I’ll give some more painkillers, the sleepy kind so you can take a nap in my office till I’m done. Does that sound good, baby?” He said wiping away a tear. 

You shook your head no making him chuckle. But he knew he had your attention so he went ahead and cleaned your arm with a cotton ball and then reached for the shot. Your hands were shaking at this point and you wanted to run away so bad. Jensen rubbed circled on your arm, trying to show you that he was right there and he’s be as gentle as possible. 

You closed your eyes tight as he brought the needle close to your skin. “You’re so brave baby girl. I’m so proud of you.” He whispered as he gently sunk the needle in. 

“I hate this. I hate this so much.” You kept repeating it with your eyes still closed. 

“There all done. It’s all over.” He smiled at you, rubbing the area with cotton once more. He got up and kissed your forehead once more before disposing the injection. He then brought over the painkillers for you to swallow. 

“Let’s go to my office. Do you want me to get you a wheelchair?” 

“No, I can walk.” You mumbled trying to sit up.

Jensen came over and helped you up and gently led you to his office where you promptly got comfortable on his sofa till it was time to go home. 

_______________

The two of you made it home after a few hours and you went straight to bed. But some time later you made your way back to the kitchen to get a midnight snack. Your shoulder was hurting and the bruises were painful too and you couldn’t sleep. 

You reached into the cupboard for some cereal and placed it on the counter. Everything was hard to do with one hand and adding the lack of sleep, you were frustrated beyond belief. You brought over a bowl and tried to open the packet inside the box with one hand. You yanked the thing really hard using your mouth for leverage and the damn thing split open, spilling the contents everywhere. 

“Dammit!” You cursed. 

You heard footsteps coming into the kitchen and you turned around to find you dad standing there looking amused. 

“Fancy seeing you here. Need help?” He asked coming over to you. 

You sighed at him. “I can’t do anything.” 

“It’s only for a few weeks. You’ll get better.” He said pouring the cereal into a bowl and taking some for himself. 

There was silence between the two of you while you ate. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” Jensen broke the silence. 

You shook your head, a frown still marred your face. 

“Same. Night shifts really mess with my sleep schedule.” He tried making conversation. 

There was silence again before you broke it. 

“Are you still mad at me?” You whispered looking into your now empty bowl. 

Jensen stopped the spoon midway, looking at you, and then placed it back in the bowl before talking. 

“No, honey. I was upset back in the hospital but not anymore. You just really scared me. You’re all I have left, Y/N. You’re my heart. If anything happened to you I don’t know what I would do. It’s why I expect you to listen to me. And as a dad it feels so unfair that the other guy didn’t get hurt while my baby did.”

“I’m sorry, daddy.” You said.

“It’s quite alright, baby. I’m just glad it wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been.” 

“Yeah…” 

“How bout we watch something on the telly for a while since we both can’t sleep?” 

“Yeah. Sounds good.” You smiled at him. 

He took your empty bowls to the sink as you went to the couch in the living room. He placed a lot of pillows against the arm rest and helped you settle into them comfortably so your shoulder wouldn’t hurt. He then got comfortable next to you, placing your legs over his leg. He turned on the telly and flipped to some random channel. Few mins into the show, you were fast asleep feeling much better with your dad next to you. 

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@hobby27 @akshi8278 @castiellss @miss-nerd95

[ilovemesomekillianjones]

Good Things Come to Those Who Talk

It’s been a long time since I’ve written, but the muse visited this week, so here is a fluffy and smutty Captain Swan one shot. I’m sure this trope has been written one millions ways, here is one million and one. Hope you like it. Although I am not around as much as I used to be, CS still remains my OTP and always will. 

ao3          ffnet          rated M          8.9K

Summary:  Emma Swan is so over her brother, he warns every cop he knows to stay away from her. She's pined for so long though, she wants Killian Jones, it's just double bad luck that he's a cop and he happens to be David's partner. She decides her brother's wrath is worth the risk to find out if there's something more for her and Killian. Now all she needs is a new dress and a plan.

“Emma Swan, you little slut! What has gotten into you?” Ruby screeched as Emma pulled the door to her home open.

“Is it too much?” Emma asked with just a touch of hysteria coloring her voice. She hurried back to her bedroom to give herself the once over… again. Running her hands down the newly purchased, skin tight, black mini dress, she followed each and every curve that was on full display.

“Girl, I would do you if I didn’t already have a girlfriend.”

“Not helping, Ruby!” 

“Emma, you look fucking hot, there is not a man on earth that could turn you down in that.”

“That’s what I’m hoping for,” she mumbled under her breath. Tonight was the night. She’d danced around the longing and heat between her and Killian Jones for long enough. She’d been pining for this man for longer than she could remember, half the time they spent together felt like they were a couple anyway. She already knew her stupid brother, David, had warned Killian Jones to stay away from her, but there was nothing stopping her from putting the moves on Killian Jones. She just hoped Ruby was right, that no man would be able to resist her, including the one who’d been threatened with death if he so much as laid one finger on her. Emma was undeniably hoping for far more than one finger. A shiver jolted through her and she was brought back to the present.

“Someone’s got it baaaad,” Ruby teased. “You gonna make your move tonight?”

“That’s the plan,” Emma said as she grabbed her knee length black leather jacket and tied it closed. She pulled her flowing, golden tresses from the jacket and tossed them over her shoulders. 

“Well then let’s get this party started!” With that, Ruby grabbed Emma’s hand and pulled her back to the front of the house and out the door. 

The Rabbit Hole was their favorite local pub, and the only place to celebrate the hot shot detectives who’d made the biggest bust this city had ever seen. Of course it was the hot shot team of Detectives Nolan and Jones to bring down the infamous Robert “The Deal Maker” Gold and his outfit of miscreants. Earlier this morning, both men had received the Medal of Valor, for extraordinary acts of bravery and heroism, performed in the line of duty at extreme life-threatening, personal risk, their Captain had said. 

Emma remembered that day three weeks ago, when she’d received the call from her sister-in-law. The baby had been wailing in the background as Mary Margaret had tried to tell Emma, through choked sobs that David was in the hospital. No doubt the little guy had been so upset because his mama was having a justified meltdown. 

When Emma had arrived, Killian was in the waiting room, a little bloodied, bruised, and banged up, but he’d insisted on waiting for her before letting the doctors examine him. He’d wanted to let her know that David was in surgery, but he’d be okay, and Mary Margaret had just left to drop her two year old off at Belle’s so he didn’t have to wait in the ER. It wasn’t until Killian’s body had slumped against hers that Emma realized he wasn’t doing as well as he’d pretended. She’d found out later, Killian had been hit by Gold’s car as the fiend had tried to make a run for it. 

Emma doesn’t like to think about the panic she’d felt as he was hauled behind the swinging doors of the ER. She doesn’t like to remember the tears that had fallen when the thought that she’d never gotten to tell him how she felt for him, crossed her mind. She especially doesn’t like to think about how he’d been out of the hospital for three weeks now, and she’d still been too chicken shit to even ask him out on a date, let alone tell him that she’s crazy about him. 

Once Killian’s internal bleeding had stopped and he was cleared to go home, she’d helped him convalesce through a dislocated shoulder and severely bruised ribs. He’d gotten remarkably lucky considering he was hit by a car. Hours of flirting and bantering, movies on his couch, meals together, and she hadn’t scraped together the courage to tell him how she felt. She’d picked him up and attended the medal pinning with him today, and still she couldn’t find any words to tell him how she felt. When he’d come down off the stage, walked toward her and scooped her up into a bear hug, all she’d come up with was how proud she was of him. Even though it was true, there was so much more she wanted to say. And she’d known long before any of this had happened, she’d just never considered moving past her fear of rejection or risking their friendship for a chance at something more until she’d felt like she might lose him. 

That thought made her feel pretty shitty. But that’s when she’d decided a few things. Emma Swan was shit with words. Actions speak louder than words. Tonight was the night. And she needed a new dress. 

Taking a deep breath as the car pulled into the parking lot, to center her thoughts, fortify her determination, and get her collective shit together, Emma stepped out of Ruby’s car with something akin to hope.   

Upon entering the noisy bar, she searched for the woman who’d be lending her an assist tonight. Regina and her husband Robin, a retired police officer, now owned this bar. They were close personal friends with Emma’s brother’s family, as David’s former partner, and by extension, with the whole group. Regina would be the one taking care of their party tonight. Emma needed to square some drinking details away with the woman and then she’d be mission ready. After talking to Regina, she glanced around the crowded bar, searching for the man of the hour. Whatever confidence or hope had been building, promptly deflated as she located Killian, only to find him sitting at the bar with some handsy redhead whispering in his ear. 

“Emma!” She heard Mary Margaret’s voice call out from across the bar, but she couldn’t turn, she was transfixed, watching as the woman ran a finger along Killian’s jawline. It gave her just an ounce of pleasure when he removed her hand from his vicinity and placed it on the bar. The mystery woman was undeterred though as she placed her hand on his chest next. 

Mary Margaret called her name again, louder this time, and Emma noticed it caught Killian’s attention as he began to scan the bar. When his eyes met hers, they immediately lit up and he mouthed the word help, with desperation in his every feature. Emma’s confidence restored, she sashayed toward him with renewed determination. 

Goddamn, she thought as she appreciated how Killian’s royal blue button down shirt and black slacks were tailored to his body.  She bit down on her lip when she noted that he definitely had his customary one too many buttons undone and was displaying that magically delicious thatch of chest hair she’d imagined running her hands through just a couple times. Sauntering right in between the two, she settled in the spot of his perpetually manspread legs and placed her palms on his thighs, leaving her back to the other woman.

“Hey Sexy, where’ve you been all my life?” she asked in the sexiest tone she could muster while also trying not to crack up as she laid it on thick for the woman trying to steal her man. What?

“Right here, waiting for you, love,” Killian answered, wrapping an arm around her waist. The man didn���t miss a beat. 

Emma couldn’t be bothered to feel bad as she rubbed her palms over his muscular thighs which currently rested on her hips. She had a mission tonight, and this floozy behind her had been throwing herself at Killian.

“I’m so lucky someone didn’t come and scoop you up before I got here.”

Emma almost melted when he came right back with, “No one else is you.”

She knew this man, had known him for several years. She knew when he was playing a long con, when he was bullshitting, when he was joking, when he was serious, and when he was sincere. Her heartbeat stuttered as his earnest expression dared her to believe him. Just at that moment, the drinks Killian had ordered arrived. “Come on,” she said, grabbing the three beer bottles in one hand and taking his hand in her other. 

“Let me order a couple more, now that the rest of you are here.”

Emma leaned in to whisper in his ear, “And leave you at the mercy of Hands, I don’t think so.” If she wasn’t mistaken, Killian actually shivered, and she wondered how bad it had gotten before she’d arrived. When she stepped back though, she noticed a bright flush along Killian’s cheeks, and she wondered if she wasn’t causing that shiver and blush. “I’ll order when the server comes around.” 

Emma was positively rippling with anticipation of what Killian would think of her dress as they walked over to the private room Mary Margaret had reserved for tonight. The bar had several private rooms off each corner of the bar, they were a little less noisy, and perfect for celebratory drinks. This one had a large round booth and table in it, so Emma slid in next to her brother, pulling Killian in behind her. Strategically speaking, she was hoping David couldn’t stare daggers at Killian from this angle, like he always did when Emma and Killian were hanging out and getting too close for his comfort. She didn’t need her stupid brother ruining her plans.

“Here love, you can have this beer,” Killian offered as they sat down.

“That’s okay, I can wait for the server.” Emma was not in the mood to get drunk, at least not drunk for real. “Are Will and Belle still coming tonight?” Emma asked as she untied her jacket and leaned forward to take it off while still seated in the confines of the booth. 

Killian audibly choked on the swig of beer he’d been taking when he caught a glimpse of all the skin Emma was now showing. One false move and there could be a nip slip, really.

“Hey, Jones, you okay there buddy? Emma, quick, give him mouth to mouth, he’s choking,” she harassed. 

Emma shot her a look before slapping Killian on the back a couple times. “My ribs,” he croaked once he’d finished hacking and coughing. 

Emma preened as she noticed he still hadn’t taken his eyes off her. “You gonna be okay?” she asked, turning fully toward Killian as she soothingly rubbed her hand along his rib cage.

“Love your new dress, Ems,” Ruby exclaimed, adding fuel to multiple fires.

“New dress? Are you sure you got the whole thing?” David fumed. “Looks more like a tank top to me. And yes, to answer your question from before, Will and Belle are coming, their Lyft was running late.”

Emma looked over her shoulder to scowl at her brother, and he scowled right back. “I happen to like this dress, David,” she said, saying his name as pettily as any sister could, “what about you Killian. Do you like my new dress?”

Killian’s hand immediately shot up to scratch behind his ear, but before he could even speak a word, David leaned forward, peered around Emma and stared those oh so familiar daggers at Killian. 

“Oh stop it, David,” Mary Margaret chided her husband. 

“Oi mates, hope you didn’t start the party without me,” Will shouted as he and Belle entered the room. He and Belle scooted into the booth next to Ruby and Mulan, and Emma was thankful they’d arrived before David could start ranting about not wanting his sister to date a cop.  

Emma, Mary Margaret, Belle, and Ruby had all been promised a play by play of the Gold bust now that the case was finalized, Gold had been sentenced, and everyone was healed. Will and Mulan hadn’t been injured, but they’d been part of the task force, and instrumental in the take down. Emma tried not to concentrate too hard on the fact that she was the only female here who wasn’t technically a significant other. Besides, maybe that would change after tonight.  

A round of shots was ordered to start the evening and Regina brought them to the table, handing a shot of rum to each guest. They toasted to the takedown of the felon who had run rampant like a virus, for far too long. The story was intense to be sure, and a second round of shots was ordered to toast the health and safety of David, Killian, Mulan, and Will.  

When the live band started, they headed for the dance floor and Emma was thankful to have a bit of privacy, albeit in the middle of a crowded dance floor, with Killian. “You cut quite the figure in that dress,” he whispered into her ear. 

The band was covering a latin number and Emma melted as Killian pulled her in close. His left hand was on the small of her back and the other held her free hand. Her free hand rested on his chest, right at the juncture of his too unbuttoned shirt. 

“I don’t know exactly how to do this… dance,” Emma mumbled as Killian began to move his feet. They were connected at their hips as they swayed with the beat. 

“It’s called a mambo; there’s only one rule, pick a partner who knows what he’s doing.”

She’d danced with him before and it never ceased to amaze her how well the man could move his body. If he was this fluid and skilled while dancing, what could he do in bed? 

“I can see your mind working, Swan. What are you thinking about?”

Emma tried to stop the blush, but she’d definitely been caught ogling him. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Perhaps I would,” he admitted while sweeping a lock of her hair behind her ear. “You are blushing,” he added as he trailed the finger down her cheek.

“I was just thinking, if you’re this good on the-” Emma’s breath was knocked from her as David and Mary Margaret careened into them. 

“Hey guys,” David shouted over the music, “time for shots.”

Emma just barely stopped herself from yelling at her brother to stop being a cockblock. Instead, she settled for stomping on his foot as she led Killian off the dancefloor. They all lined up at the bar and Regina doled out more shots. 

“I’m ready to go home,” Emma slurred into Killian’s shoulder several hours later. “Take me home?”

“Aye, love.”

“I thought Ruby was your ride,” David interrupted.

“No can do, Davey,” Ruby mumbled. “Me and my baby are staying at the hotel across the street so we don’t have to drive and we don’t have to come back for the car tomorrow. 

“We will take you home,” David proclaimed, as if someone had died and made him king.

“That’s ridiculous, we’re already taking Belle and Will home,” Mary Margaret told her husband. “Killian hasn’t been drinking for the last two hours, he can take Emma home.”

“Bu-” David started.

“I know we have five seats, but we don’t need to squish five adults into them, when Killian can give Emma a ride.”

Emma snickered at the way Mary Margaret effortlessly handled David.

“That’s what I’m worried about,” David muttered. 

After the group said their goodbyes, Emma let Killian lead her to his truck. She pretended to need much more help getting in than she really did. Under the guise of being drunk, Emma found she was much braver. If he turned her down, she could always pretend she was so drunk she didn’t remember, and if he was a gentleman, which he was, he’d never mention it. 

Reaching across the space between them, Emma brushed the hair away from his forehead. “I was so worried about you when you were in the hospital,” she whispered, making sure to slur a word here and there.

“I’m sorry I worried you, lass, but you needn’t worry about me.”

“I do worry about you, Killian. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Well, in your inebriated state, I’m sure it’s hard to imagine, but I am sure you’d manage.”

“What a horrible thing to say! I would not be okay if I lost you, I would never be okay.”

Killian clasped his hand over hers, which had been idly stroking his cheek. “Shhh, love, there’s no need to discuss this topic anyway. If there is one thing I am good at, it’s surviving.” 

Killian pulled into her driveway and hastily exited to help her down from the truck. She definitely put more weight on him than was strictly necessary and sloppily handed him the keys to unlock her door. 

“Someone is going to be feeling like shite in the morning,” Killian laughed. 

Emma played it up, and allowed Killian to get Tylenol and water for her as she stripped out of her dress and hopped into her bed. 

“Call me if you need anything, yeah?” he checked as he set her hangover supplies on her nightstand.

Emma caught his hand as he went to put it in his pocket. “Stay with me?”

“I shouldn’t.”

“Please,” Emma asked sweetly, looking up at him with all the hope she felt inside written clearly on her face.

Killian exhaled a long sigh as only a man who knows he’s lost can. Circling around the bed, he started to climb in behind her. 

“You’re not going to sleep in jeans, are you?”

“I don’t exactly have sleepwear at my disposal, Swan. And you’re sleeping in your dress.”

Emma laughed at that, that’s what he thinks. “Take off your jeans, boxer briefs are just like shorts.” She grinned triumphantly as she heard the metal of his belt and the rustling of pants being dropped. 

Once he was settled in her bed, she turned over and snuggled against him. The groan he emitted when she did so shot a bolt of heat straight to her core. She knew he was just as affected as she was, and that was hot. 

“Emma, please, you’re making it very hard fo-”

“That’s kinda the point,” she giggled, pressing her body against his and snaking her free hand into the opening of his shirt to rake it through his chest hair. 

“Fuck me,” he muttered.

“Yeah?” 

“Poor choice of words,” he corrected as he scooted away from her advances. “We can’t do this.”

Emma immediately felt the sting of his words in her chest, like someone was gripping her heart, or worse, like someone had taken it and she was hollow. A flurry of emotions ran through her as she tried to assure herself she still had her failsafe of “being drunk”. She searched for words. “Why? Because of my stupid brother?” she demanded, her voice a little more watery than angry.

“This has nothing to do with your brother, Swan.”

“Then… why?” Emma sat up in bed and pulled the blankets tightly around her body, as if they’d protect her from whatever hurtful reason he had for not wanting her.

“Because you’re drunk and-”

“Well-” Emma interrupted.

“No, wait, let me finish. Before I lose my nerve.”

Emma frowned at him, but complied by sitting quietly.

“You’ve been drinking all night love, and I would never forgive myself if I took advantage of you in this state and then you regretted it in the morning, if you regretted me. I… I’m crazy about you Emma, I have been for a long time. I don’t want a drunken one night stand with you, hell, I don’t want any kind of one night stand with you. I want… more.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” she asked softly.

“Short answer? I’m a coward.”

“What if I want to know the extended version?” she asked as she patted the seat next to her and offered him part of the blankets so he could join her.

Killian got back into the bed and sat up against the headboard as Emma was. “I guess I’ve hid behind your brother’s warning to stay away from you. I mean, he’s not wrong, it can be a hard life being with a cop. Look what happened with Gold. I also worried about jeopardizing our friendship, especially if you didn’t feel the same way about me.”

“Why now?”

Killian chuckled before answering her. “You being drunk gives me the courage to say how I feel, because you might not even remember this in the morning.” 

Emma dropped all pretense of being inebriated and leaned forward so she was looking straight into the depths of the eyes she dreamed about almost nightly. “Let’s get something straight, okay? I could never regret you, Killian Jones.” Placing a hand softly on his cheek, she smiled at the awestruck look on his face. “And also, I haven’t had a drink all night. I paid Regina to fill my shots with apple juice. I just needed the cover of liquid courage to try and seduce you because I am shit with words. And I figured if you didn’t feel the same, I could always pretend that I didn’t remember the next day.”

Killian’s warm laughter startled her a bit, but then she was laughing with him. “I usually have a flair with words, Swan, you just do something to me that brings me to my basest form. I’m a goner for you, and I wish I’d have told you sooner.”

“Well, get used to me not being great with words. I’m sort of caveman-like. I mean, I’m not gonna point and grunt, but I definitely use action over words. But if I can paraphrase a great wordsmith, ‘I’m crazy about you, Killian, I have been for a long time’.”

The smile that lit up Killian’s face, dimples and all, was worth the hell she was going to go through with David. 

“In the spirit of full disclosure, I never got a chance to answer you at the bar. I love your new dress, may I see it again,” he asked, gently tugging at the blankets she’d wrapped around herself for protection a few moments ago.

“Hmmm, sorry, not right now...” Killian immediately dropped his hand from the blanket and began to tell her it’s okay, when she peeled away the blanket, and continued, “because I’m not wearing it anymore.” 

“Fuck me,” he murmured before biting down on his lip hungrily.

“Still the plan.” 

♡~♥~♡~♥~♡

“Stand up, love, let me see you.”

Emma complied, standing up and bearing herself to him. She was clad in nothing more than lacy, black panties and a matching bra. Watching as he perused every inch of her body, from the swell of her breasts, to her lean torso and soft belly, then down to the apex of her thighs, she could see his length swelling under his boxer briefs, and every part of her wanted him. Crooking her finger, she beckoned him to her, and it was his turn to comply. 

Once Killian stood before her, Emma unbuttoned the remainder of his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders, to the floor. Then she did something that shocked her a little bit, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulled him close and just held him; he immediately reciprocated, both arms encircling her and bringing her close. The feelings they’d just spoken floated around them and  flowed between them.

Threading her fingers into his hair, she guided his mouth to hers and kissed him, softly and exploratorily at first. But as lips gave way to caressing tongues, and roaming hands, heat built and Emma found herself panting and breathless.

Killian unclasped her bra and pulled it away and she was never more grateful for that barrier to be gone, as his chest hair delicately tightened her nipples and sent sparks shooting to her core. She wanted more and made it known by grabbing his ass with both hands and hauling him firmly to her. Killian glided his hands down her back and over her firm ass while sucking a nipple into his mouth. She moaned his name at the sensation of his wet mouth laving at her breasts, and his fingers and palms caressing the smooth expanse of her ass. Emma wanted that last barrier gone, she reached between them to remove first her panties and then finally his boxer briefs.  

She was not disappointed when she finally got a look at what her Detective was packing. Emma licked her lips as his cock stood at full attention, straining with the need to be touched.

“See something you like, darling?” 

There was that hint of cockiness that she loved so much. “Yeah,” she breathed as she dropped to her knees. Wrapping her hand around the base of his cock, Emma stroked up and down a few times, relishing in the hiss that left Killian’s mouth. When his head dropped back, she pounced, taking him deep and swallowing once, before pulling back and then setting a slow rhythmic pace.

Killian lifted her from her knees and attacked her mouth with kisses, between trying to speak, “You don’t have to do that.”

Emma pulled her head back to stare at this man in front of her. What guy turns down head? “I know I don’t have to, I was enjoying myself,” she said, then she pushed into his frame, guiding him backwards until he could sit at the edge of the bed. She dropped to her knees again, and  smirked before descending on him once more, but before she could even set a rhythm, he was halting her ministrations again.

“Okay, that’s twice. What’s up, Jones? Do you not enjoy getting head? Do I suck at it, and not in the good way?” Emma sat back on her calves, folding her arms around herself.  

“On the contrary, you are magnificent at sucking my cock, Emma.”

She grinned mischievously at the compliment, a swarm of relief flooding her mind. “Then what gives?”

“I haven’t...” Killian trailed off, and an actual blush colored his cheeks as he tried to find the words he was looking for. 

Emma put her hands on his knees and gently squeezed. “What is it? You can tell me.”

“I haven’t been with anyone in a while, I’ve kind of been saving myself for this brilliant lass I know. Plus, I’ve been hard since you took your jacket off at the bar and I don’t wish to finish before you,” he admitted. He rubbed nervously behind his ear as he waited for her reaction.

Emma was a little speechless. At no point in her life had she ever been with a man who was so dedicated to her gratification, he would deny his own. She’d definitely never been halted in the middle of a blow job so that her needs could be met. She stood up, taking Killian with her and then turned them around so that she could lie down on the bed. Holding her hand out to him, she pulled him down next to her and then scooted so that they were laying face to face. “Make me come, Killian.”

Needing no further guidance, Killian captured her lips in a fiery kiss while situating her on her back. Their tongues slid together effortlessly until he broke the kiss to blaze a trail down her body. She would definitely have marks, but he was careful to leave them where only they would see. As he paid special attention to her breasts again, delighting way too much in the noises she made, Emma finally caved, begging for more.

Scooting down between her legs, Killian took stock of the pretty picture splayed out for him. “Absolutely gorgeous,” he murmured. Ever so gently, he ran the tip of his finger along her glistening folds, parting them as his finger ran further down, exposing her clit to the cool air. 

“Please Killian, touch me.”

“As you wish.” 

Emma keened in half relief and half need as his tongue finally made contact with her clit. She thrust her hips, needing nothing short of penetration, and again, she was obviously hoping for more than just one finger. She wasn’t disappointed when Killian filled her with two digits as he worked her clit with his tongue.

Emma fisted a handful of Killian’s dark hair as he brought her a pleasure like none she’d experienced before. It was hot as hell to have him watching her with those devilish blue eyes gazing up from between her thighs as she fucked his fingers. 

Emma had never been much of a talker in bed, but she found it easy with Killian to ask for more, to ask for it harder, and because of that, he had her falling over the edge of oblivion quickly.

“Get up here, now,” she panted, once her mind came back from the haze of post orgasmic delight.

“Gods, you taste divine,” he praised as he moved over her body, settling between her legs so they were face to face.

“You are really good at that, better than I could ever have imagined.”

“Oh, Emma,” he began as he sucked her bottom lip into his mouth and bit down gently before letting it go, “do elaborate on ‘imagined’,” he smirked before grinding his hips down so his thick length slid through her folds and over her clit. 

A breathy moan rushed past her lips as he teased her. “Yeah? You want to hear all about how I get myself off while thinking of you?”

“Aye, lass, tell me.”

“Mmmmm, sometimes it’s quick and dirty, fucking my fingers, wishing they were yours. Other times I imagine you bend me over your desk at the precinct and take me roughly. But the best is edging while wondering if you’re lying in bed thinking about me, stroking your hard cock. I always finally make myself come, pleading your name as I picture you making yourself come all over your chest, calling out my name.”

“Christ, Emma, I’m going to come all over your chest if you tell me any more.”

In a flash of motion, Emma flipped them so she was on top, staring down at Killian. “We can’t have that.” Leaning down, she kissed him roughly, demanding his tongue, while situating his cock so she could sink down on it. “Oh… fuck you feel so good,” she gasped as his full length hit a depth she’d never felt without toys. Her hands found purchase on his chest as she adjusted to his size. 

She let Killian set the pace after he grasped both her hips and guided her along. He was mesmerized by the way his cock slid in and out of her wet heat. “You feel so good wrapped around me,” he praised.

Killian pulled her down for a kiss again, and flipped them so he was on top. Emma whined as he withdrew from her completely and sat back on his haunches. “I’ve just realized I don’t have a condom,” he said defeatedly.

“That’s okay, I’m on the pill and I’m clean. You clean?”

“Aye, lass. On my honor.”

“Then put every inch of that cock back inside me,” she demanded as she pulled him back into the cradle of her thighs.

Emma laughed lightly as Killian groaned loudly while pushing back into her. “Just so you know, love, this feels so much better than any time I’ve ever taken myself in hand while thinking of you. And I always come with your name on my lips.” 

Her answering smile turned into a low moan as Killian pulled out and then thrust back home. He changed the tempo, long deep passes, quick pounding thrusts, grinding his hips into her sometimes, and pumping shallowly others. She made sure to let him know what felt good and what felt better, and especially what was, “Oh fuck, yes, right there!” 

Despite never having been together before, the combination of Emma knowing what she liked,  being comfortable enough to ask for it, and Killian listening to her and taking care of her, had them riding the same wave, feeling, exploring, loving. 

In the end, Killian had both her legs pulled up high around his waist, arms under her shoulders, and his face buried in the crook of her neck as he methodically drove into her, determined to make her come again. 

Emma had her legs wrapped tightly around his torso, her arms around his neck, and her head thrown back into the pillow. They were a hot sweaty mess, and she was sure she’d never been wound this tight, she’d never been this turned on,maybe there was something to sex with feelings. His hot breath against her neck caused a tightness in her nipples and a tingling in her clit. Killian’s thrusts were punishing, hitting her deep, and she was so close and she knew he was close and she really wanted to come again.  

“Touch yourself, Emma, I want to feel you come all over my cock.”

An errant bit of relief flooded her as she realized Killian was not intimidated in asking for what he wanted either and he wasn’t too macho to ask her to help get them there. Now was not the time for reflection though, and so she pushed those delightful thoughts to an area for later. Reaching down between them, Emma gathered the arousal that coated her thighs and started rubbing her fingers over her clit. “Almost, Killian, almo- Oh, Ooooh,” Emma cried. 

It was almost ridiculous how in sync they were, each gracing the edge of ecstasy before plummeting off one after the other, calling the other’s name like a benediction. She’d been right, his moves on the dance floor had definitely foreshadowed his performance in bed. And just like the attentive gentleman he was day-to-day, he was the same in bed, making sure to guide her through every aftershock, and hold her as she came down from on high. 

“Bloody Hell, why did we wait so long to do this?” Killian panted against her neck, before rolling off of her. “Come here,” he said, pulling Emma against his side. 

Instead of nestling into him, Emma stood up and stretched deliciously. “So, I guess, I’ll umm... see you around?” A mixture of shock, disappointment, and embarrassment crossed his face before he quickly jumped out of bed. The look was priceless, she really did feel heartless, but she couldn’t resist teasing him a little. 

“Right, love,” he mumbled as he turned from her and grabbed his slacks off the floor.  

Emma tiptoed behind him and circled her arms around his waist, his whole body was taught. “I’m fucking with you, Jones,” she said gently, pressing her cheek to his back. “Join me for a shower?” As his body relaxed, she placed a few kisses between his shoulder blades causing him to shiver. 

He turned in her arms and took her mouth in a hungry kiss. “You are a devilish little minx, aren’t you?”

“I couldn’t resist,” she mumbled into his mouth. “Come on, let’s go get clean… and dirty.”

“Do you promise to tell me more dirty little fantasies?”

A blush ran up her body as she remembered telling Killian her favorite fantasy about him. 

“Don’t get shy now. For someone who says they’re shite with words, you were certainly very chatty in bed.

“Oh my gosh, Killian.” She rolled her eyes and smacked his chest as mortification coursed through her. She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the shower, but found herself being swung back into his chest.

Killian wrapped his arms around her middle and pressed his front to her back in a sensual embrace. “Don’t you dare ever feel ashamed to tell me exactly what you want, love. If you want it harder,” he thrust his hips against her ass to elaborate, “if you want it deeper,” he growled, sucking at the lobe of her ear, “if you want my mouth between your thighs…”

Emma moaned as Killian continued rutting his hips against her ass and caressing her with his strong hands. She hung on his every word.

“If you want to watch me stroke my cock,” he said huskily, “just say the words.”

“Fuck, Killian. I want you to fuck me again,” she responded breathily. Taking his hand and pulling him toward the shower again, she met no resistance this time. 

Reaching into the shower she turned the water on full blast and then turned around and jumped into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist to kiss him while they waited for it to warm up. 

He took her again, against the wall of her shower, then they made out until the water began to cool, before they both fell into bed, sated and exhausted.

♡~♥~♡~♥~♡

Emma hummed happily as she stood at the stove making pancakes. Killian was still sound asleep in her bed, the hint of a smile playing at his lips, and a hard case of morning wood if the slight tent of the sheets was anything to judge by. As much as she’d wanted to wake him up with salacious activities, she’d also wanted to let him sleep in. So she’d silently slipped into her black silk robe and headed to the kitchen to make coffee and breakfast. Her mind kept jumping to different parts of their evening together, and how much she hoped for a repeat performance.

An unadulterated smile broke out across her face when Killian’s husky voice broke through her morning musings. “Something smells delicious.”

The way he nuzzled into her made her weak in the knees as she protested the compliment. “It’s just from a box.”

“Mmm,” he hummed against her ear, “I’m not talking about the pancakes.”

Emma spun in his arms and leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss him. Her mind was spinning, it was a little shocking to her that she wasn’t panicking at all about how much they’d discussed last night and how deep their feelings ran for each other. She realized she wasn’t afraid because what they had was worth taking the risk for. Breaking the kiss, she peered into his beautiful blue eyes. Eyes full of emotions that she knew mirrored her own. And the absolutely boyish grin gracing his face made her heart soar. 

“What?” he asked as she continued gazing at him.

“Nothing, I’m just... happy.” 

“Aye, love, me too.”

Emma leaned in to kiss him again, this time parting her mouth and begging entrance to his as she stroked the seam of his lips with her tongue. “To hell with the pancakes,” she muttered when he opened to her, tongues tangling together. Carding her fingers through his hair, only their breathing and wet kisses filled the air as she pushed him back toward the table until he was sitting with her nestled between his legs.

 Untying her robe, Killian caressed his hands up and down the lush skin of her torso before greedily pulling her against him, showing her how ready she had him, not that it was hard to tell through his boxer briefs.

“I smell pancakes. I thought we were eating on the way to the zoo?” a masculine voice said, cutting through the moment. 

“David!” Emma gasped.

“Your brother has a key, good to know,” Killian muttered. Emma dropped her head into Killian’s shoulder, willing this to be a dream. That was quickly shattered when she heard Mary Margaret’s voice. 

“Are we interrupting something,” Mary Margaret asked, eyes wide as saucers and a smirk begging to be let out. 

“EmEm! Killy!” little Leo cooed. 

David’s hands had immediately found his hips, as they quite often did before interrogating a suspect. Although the look on his face looked more like he was preparing to beat a perp. “What the… I mean… What’s go- Why the hell is he- Goddammit!” he roared, throwing his hands up in the air, and the toddler snuggled in Mary Margaret’s arms immediately started crying at his father’s outburst. “I thought I said she was off limits?”

“Hey!” Mary Margaret and Emma both yelled. As Emma stepped away from Killian to give her brother a piece of her mind, Killian quickly grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. Neither missed the huff of exasperation from David, but both ignored it. Killian quickly folded Emma’s robe over and tied it closed before giving her an attempted wink.

She smiled that happy smile at him before returning a scowl to her brother. “I am not a possession, David. You’re not my father, you’re not my husband, and you’re not my keeper! You don’t get to tell me who I can and cannot be with.” She was outright yelling as she finished.

“I’m not,” he boomed. “I’m telling Killian he can’t be with you. I don’t want you with a cop, Emma!”

“Why is being with a cop good enough for your wife, the one you share a love so pure with and would lay down your life for, but being with a cop isn’t okay for me?”

“It’s not like that, Emma,” David argued.

“Oh yeah? Then what’s it like? I’m dying to understand,” she retorted.

“I’m just trying to protect you.”

“From what?” When David made no move to answer, she shouted her question louder at him. “From what!?” 

“Daddy, EmEm, no fight,” Leo cried. 

“Emma,” Killian called softly and she turned to look at his calming blue eyes. He was quite the site, clad only in his skivvies, both hands strategically placed over his package. “Let’s get dressed. You both could use a minute to calm down.”

“That’s a great idea,” Mary Margaret piped in. “Take five, we’ll finish making breakfast. You still have that leftover ham from the other night?”

Emma nodded at her sister-in-law, then she and Killian headed toward her bedroom.

“Where are you going, Jones,” David seethed.

“Where the fuck do you think his clothes are, David,” Emma cursed.

Once in the bedroom, Killian pulled Emma into his arms. “Hey, we are going to make him understand, okay. There’s no reason to fight with him. Let’s make him understand. Hear him out, whatever his reasons, and then show him why he’s wrong.” 

“No, Killian. He’s being an absolute dick. He has no right to tell me what to do. And I hate whatever his reasons are. I don’t care.”

Killian placed a hand on each of her cheeks and looked into her eyes, before planting a soft kiss to her lips. “Yes you do, love. And we can figure this out.”

Admittedly, some of her anger faded as Killian talked of understanding and explaining and communication. She walked to her dresser and pulled out one of his old t-shirts she’d borrowed at a party at his place. 

“You still have this?” he chuckled.

“It smelled like you for a long time after I borrowed it, I like sleeping in it.” 

“That party was over a year ago,” he mused.

“I told you, I’ve wanted…,” she paused, trying to find a better word for how she’d felt for so long. “I’ve really liked you for a long time, Killian.”

He slipped the t-shirt over his head before descending on her and kissing her fully. “Maybe almost for as long as I’ve fancied you.”

She just giggled at that, hugging him for fortification before taking his hand and heading back out into the battle zone.

“Wait, I still don’t have pants.”

Emma led him to the guest room.“David and Mary Margaret keep extra clothes here for when they don’t decide early enough who is going to be designated driver.”

“I don’t think Mary Margaret’s pants will fit me, darling.”

“Shut up you goofball,” she laughed as she threw him a pair of David’s sweatpants.

“Let’s sit down and eat, and discuss this like adults,” Mary Margaret, always the mother, ordered everyone when Emma and Killian emerged. 

She’d finished cooking the pancakes, whipped up a batch of scrambled eggs, and was just finishing frying up the leftover ham. David was pouring a round of coffee for everyone and holding Leo who was happily babbling now that he had a pancake in his hand and no one was yelling.

After strapping the baby into the portable high chair they kept at Emma’s place, everyone sat down at the table and dug into breakfast. 

“Can you just tell me what you think you’re protecting me from?” Emma asked. “I mean you trust Killian with your life, literally. Why don’t you trust him with my heart?”

David’s stoic expression lightened at that. “Does he have your heart, Emma?”

Killian glanced toward Emma and smiled knowingly. They didn’t need to call it love right this instant, but they were definitely invested in each other. 

“Answer the question, dear,” Mary Margaret prodded. “Otherwise they don’t have the truth, because trusting Killian has nothing to do with it, and you know it.”

“Fine,” David sighed. “You dealt with abandonment by your own parents, by every subsequent foster parent, by the only friend you made as a child, who turned out to be a fraud, and then with Neal’s betrayal, which almost broke you. I don’t want you to ever experience that abandonment again.” David’s voice broke as he finished explaining. Tears rimmed his eyes as he contemplated even trying to understand what she’d been through. And he would be damned before it happened again, especially by someone who he’d introduced into her life. 

“What?” Emma asked incredulously. “That has everything to do with trusting Killian,” she argued. “Why do you assume he’d abandon me.”

Leo quieted as the tension between siblings started to grow again and Mary Margaret looked around the table, jaw clenched and a warning in her eyes to every adult at the table to not upset her baby again. 

Killian placed his hand over Emma’s white knuckles where her fist lay balled up on the table. “I don’t think he means I would intentionally leave you, Swan.”

Emma looked between her brother and Killian, a confused furrow cocking her brows. 

David chuckled, “See, he gets it.”

“Explain, David. Make her understand where you’re coming from,” his wife urged him.

Wait, Emma thought, it was supposed to be the other way around. She was supposed to be making him understand why she and Killian were a good, no great, thing. Before she could speak though, David started up again.

“Emma, you really think no one sees how much you two are into each other? You really think for almost two years, no one has watched the way you pine for each other, flirt off the charts, tease each other like kids on a playground? You’re like an old married couple half the time, we’d have to be blind not to see it. Killian is a good man, I understand he’d never purposefully hurt you, he’d have to deal with me if he did. But you have to understand that officers die in the line of duty all the time. Being with one means you accept that risk. I couldn’t bear the thought of you losing one more person you loved, especially if it was someone I brought into your life.”

A tear or two trailed down Emma’s cheeks as she listened to her brother. As she really heard what he was saying. For the first time, she understood where he was coming from. It finally made sense why he didn’t want her being with a cop. And it relieved her mind that it had nothing to do with Killian personally, especially because she wasn’t giving him up. 

“EmEm, you sad?” Leo asked.

A small laugh turned cry-hiccup escaped Emma’s mouth. “No baby, I’m happy,” she smiled. 

Leo clapped his hands, his innocent celebration of an adult human being happy, bringing a smile to everyone’s face. 

Emma unfurled her balled up fist under Killian’s comforting hand and interlaced their fingers, giving him a strong smile. “David, while I am thankful that you explained your reason for not wanting me with Killian and I even understand where you’re coming from, I could walk outside tomorrow and get hit by a bus. There are no guarantees in this life.”

David nodded his head as he glanced between her face and her and Killian’s intertwined fingers. 

“He has my heart, David, would you deny us that?”

David sat back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest as he often did when contemplating something. After a full minute, at least, he exhaled a breath bespeaking acceptance, albeit reluctantly. “I’m beginning to see that. And I could never deny you happiness, Emma.” 

Emma beamed at her brother, understanding that while his actions may have been off kilter the reasoning behind them was fueled by brotherly love. 

Mary Margaret leaned over and kissed her husband on the cheek before flashing Emma and Killian a smile. “Glad we got this settled,” she giggled.

“So, just what are your intentions toward my sister, Jones?”

Emma scoffed loudly, rolling her eyes at David’s attempt at big brother intimidation tactics. But when she heard Killian’s answer, she was kinda thankful to her brother.

“Well Dave, whatever happens between me and Emma is as much up to her as it is me. But I’m in this for the long haul if she’ll have me.”

“Good answer, partner,” David laughed as he threw his hand out across the table in an offer to shake Killian’s. “Two rules,” he added as he squeezed Killian’s hand tighter, “you are never allowed to kiss and tell around me, and if you hurt her, I’ll kill you.” 

Killian let David have his moment of brotherly protection, because he understood how important it was to cherish Emma. He was the one who’d fancied her for almost two years after all. 

“All right, enough of that,” Mary Margaret sighed as she wiped Leo’s hands and face. “Let’s get everything cleaned up, and then we are headed to the zoo as planned. Emma you are free to bail, you and Killian probably have a lot of catching up to do for the last year and a half.” 

Emma waggled her eyebrows at her sister-in-law and Killian had the good sense to not dispense with his usual abundance of innuendos, while David just cast the evil eye at his wife. 

“What,” Mary Margaret asked, holding her hands up in mock innocence and confusion, “what’d I say?”

“Ga-dammen!” Leo shouted and every head whipped around to look at the little boy as he tugged helplessly at the lap belt of the high chair. “Up, up,” he pleaded. 

“Way to go, dear, looks like he’ll have your charming vocabulary,” Mary Margaret scolded her husband.

Not having any kids of their own had Emma and Killian struggling not to bellow out loud at the little guys antics. 

“No, no, Leo,” David told his son as he unbuckled the lap belt and picked him up. “That’s a… that’s a daddy word.”

“David! What kind of lesson is that?”

Emma and Killian just looked at each other and started cracking up. “So what do you say? Stay in or join these crazy kids at the zoo?” Emma asked Killian.

“Are you asking me out on a date?” 

“Yes, that’s exactly what I am doing,” Emma deadpanned. “I’m asking you out on a date with me, my brother, his wife and kid, and the monkeys too.”

“Sounds delightful as long as you’ll be there,” Killian answered as he pulled her into his embrace and pecked her lips. 

“Hey, let’s just take it slow,” David interrupted, “I’m not quite there yet.”

“Oh relax, she’s 28, not 16, they’ve obviously already done the deed, how are you going to get squirmy over a hug?” 

“Not helping!” David pleaded with his wife, rubbing his temples in a soothing motion. 

“He’s such a baby,” Mary Margaret cracked up. “How about you guys meet us there? No rush,” she added conspiratorially. 

“For fuck’s sake, do you want to lay out a trail of rose petals to the bed for them?”

“He’s too easy,” she continued laughing.

“Fuhfuh sake!!” Leo shouted.

Mary Margaret’s laughter cut off immediately as she stared daggers at her husband. “Watch your mouth, he’s a parrot these days!”

“Gonna be a fun day,” Emma said, once the Nolans had departed. She was most definitely trying to convince herself more than anyone else.

“It’ll be brilliant, love. You and me, that is the only requisite for my enjoyment.”

“I bet you say that to all the other girls.”

“There are no other girls. Only you, milady.”

“Good,” Emma whispered before pulling him in for a kiss.

“Mmm, let’s practice mating like the animals, Swan.”

Emma laughed so hard her stomach hurt. “I have no doubt David is now timing the drive to the zoo and adding it to the time he thinks it should take us to be ready.”

“I can be quick,” Killian purred as he thrust his hardening length against her stomach. 

“Or we could take our time and really freak him out?”

“Your heart’s desire, Swan, I promise, that’s all I want you to have.”

Emma stared into the intense gaze of Killian’s eyes, the blue shining with truth and sincerity. “The long haul, Killian, that’s what my heart desires. You and me.”

The End

Tagging @laschatzi @xhookswenchx @kmomof4 @hookedonapirate @hollyethecurious @jennjenn615​ @teamhook​ @winterbaby89​ @apromisednightcap​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @wordsmith-storyweaver​ @darkcolinodonorgasm​ @nikkiemms​ @deathbycaptainswan​ @gingerchangeling​ @thisonesatellite​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @tiganasummertree​ @cocohook38​ @snowbellewells​ @andiirivera​ @searchingwardrobes​ @timeless-love-story​ @artistic-writer​ @kday426​ @imagnifika​

[umbralich]

History pt. 4 - Lareine

Part 3 <---

When Iris woke up, she was greeted by a bare, grey stone ceiling. She was just looking at it for some time, not sure what to think of or do next. She didn't have a clue where she was, but at the moment she was too tired to care. If this was the afterlife, it wasn't even mediocre. Why the hells did people make up such grandiloquent stories about it all the time?

When her currently sluggish brain finally caught up, a little panic started to crawl into her consciousness again. She was so thirsty... For how long had she been unconscious? If she was still feeling thirst or pain, she couldn't be dead. Iris had been staring at such ceilings a few times before too, and every time it had been in a gaol. She tried to get up, but after the first, miserable and painful attempt she decided it wasn't worth it, and stayed on her back.

Despite pain she couldn't feel her right hand and left leg at all, and they had probably been in worst shape. Was she paralyzed? Or were they beyond saving and had been chopped off? Who was the au ra anyway? Was he one of those shady doctors who stole body parts from their patients and sold them? If he had kept her alive, what was he going to do to her? Iris forced her heavy head up to see did she still have all her limbs, and somewhat relieved, she let herself drop back after noticing there were bulges under her blanket at the places they were supposed to be. So, she still had her limbs... but what if she could never walk again?

And what about Rosaria? Pavel wasn't supposed to know about Iris. She didn't want to even think about the possibility Rosaria would've told him. Not on purpose at least... But if the damn filth had beaten her and forced her to tell... The thought and everything related to it was unpleasant and Iris pushed it aside for now.

She had either lost consciousness or fallen asleep for a while, because next time she woke up, it was a lot darker outside. Was she just exhausted or had she been given something? Or did she have permanent brain damage from the beating? There was still enough light to see around, and she wasn't feeling sleepy despite the persistent, numb feeling in her head.

Iris started to glance around the rest of the room. To her relief it wasn't a gaol, but a simple, scantily decorated hospital room. Besides her bed there was another one right next to it, but it was empty. There wasn't even blanket or pillow, just a mattress without a sheet. Between the beds was a small, wooden table, where someone had brought a crude, wooden flower pot with a single sunflower in it. On the other side of the room was a wooden wardrobe, and on her left two big, arch-like windows without curtains.

Iris made some remarks to herself. All movables were wooden. She couldn't break anything and use as a weapon. She already guessed there wouldn't be a mirror inside the wardrobe, since there wasn't one on the walls either. The beds were robust, made of metal and bolted into the floor. If her room wasn't located on the ground floor or the first, escaping through the windows would be impossible, since there wasn't enough sheets in one bed to make a durable rope.

Had thinking always been this exhausting? Well... at least for now Iris didn't seem to be in any immediate danger, so at least she could benefit from this warm bed and clean clothes, before she would find out more about her whereabouts and happenings since... wait. Clean clothes?

A feeling of dread tightened her stomach. Iris lifted the blanket with her better hand and peeked under it. She was wearing a black, sleeveless shirt and white panties, which were both way too big for her. Someone had bathed her when she was blacked out?

"Wait a moment...", she said with a hoarse voice that barely sounded her own. "Oh, Rhalgr's balls... That means... Oh no..."

A sudden, short series of knocks on the door made her flinch. Immediately after Iris cursed the pain like a sailor. For a moment it was silent at the other side of the door, until finally a friendly voice asked:

"Are you awake, young miss?"

Before Iris could answer, the door was opened and an old elezen man stepped in. Iris yanked the blanket tightly against herself, like he could've stolen it from her at any time. It wasn't like her to be so bashful, but then again, no one had ever before seen or touched her without her consent and no less while she hadn't even been awake. How unforgivable and rude!

Despite of the fact that the elezen's chin-length hair - combed tidily back - and short beard had gone all white and he was all wrinkled, his age didn't show from his movements and posture. Judging from his black suit, fancy shoes, a silver monocle and a tray full of food he was carrying towards Iris, he was a butler. Not a nurse? Wasn't this supposed to be a hospital?

When the old man was right next to her and put the tray down on the table next to the sunflower, Iris saw his pale yellow eyes from close. She had definitely seen them before. Last night... or whatever night it had been, when she had awakened for a short moment. He had opened the door when Iris had been brought in.

"Oh, master... didn't we just have a long discussion about bringing your works home? No one is immune to stress, not even you."

"This is not permanent, I assure you, Arsene. She is out of here as soon as she can walk. Prepare a bath and a room for her."

The au ra carrying Iris had turned to some room or behind a corner, and during that moment, before passing out again, Iris had seen the old elezen looking at the bloodstained and muddy, fancy carpet in their even fancier hallway, hands on his hips and shaking his head.

"Are you feeling well enough to eat, young miss?"

Iris had forgotten herself to stare at the old man for gods knew how long time. She blinked, glanced at the tray on the table and sniffed towards it, and immediately her stomach grumbled. The old man tried to hold back a grin. How dared he? There was absolutely nothing fun in this situation.

"Was it you, gramps?" Iris splurged without thinking.

"I beg your pardon?" the old man asked, slightly frowning.

"The pervert who bathed me while I was unconscious."

"Ah..."

The old man tried to hold back a grin again, making Iris even more furious. If she had been able to move, she'd have punched his teeth into his ass by now.

"No", he said, forcing himself a bit more serious again. "It was my master. It's what he does for a living", he added, after noticing Iris' darkening expression. "He's a healer, you see. If it's of any comfort to young miss, he's more of the type who mixes medicines and gives first aid to trauma patients. Actually taking care of patients is the task he likes the least. But it's part of the job and despite not liking it he's very good at it."

"Healer, huh?" Iris snapped, feeling her anger no longer even knew any limits. "Pretty shitty healer in my opinion. How long has it been since he found me, hmm?"

"Five days tonight", the old man answered patiently.

"Five days and I'm still feeling like crap", Iris proclaimed.

"Your injuries were very severe, young miss", he explained calmly. "Your leg was broken, bone completely snapped. Only flesh was keeping it intact. Your arm was dislocated, and also broken from two places. Couple of your ribs had likewise been broken, and they had punctured your lungs, alongside several stab wounds, which your abdomen was also full of. You had lost so much blood it was a matter of a couple of minutes you would've been a goner. Healing magic may look omnipotent to a commoner, but it has its limits. Fortunately for you, my master is skilled both in healing magic and traditional medic skills. And with or without magic, it's very important for you to rest well to heal completely."

Iris was biting her lip and couldn't come up with anything to say. There was a short silence.

"Now... if you aren't feeling like eating yet, how about we let your dinner cool off and take care of the official business first, young miss?" the old man took a scroll of parchment from his breast pocket, straightening it and offering it towards Iris for reading. "Or should I say... Lareine Kira."

"What?" Iris asked, baffled, while weakly grabbing the parchment from one corner with her better hand and squinted, trying to see better. It was a new ID, for her. Why in the hells?

"My name is Iris", she declared stubbornly. "I like it and I'm not with the intention of changing it."

"My master demands it", he stated apologetically. "And I must say I fully understand why. Shortly after bringing you in he informed me you may have some people from lominsan underworld after you. I did some digging, and it is indeed so. When there isn't a body to be found, of course the first assumption is the body has gone walking. Speaking frankly, if you want to stay under our roof until you've recovered, you'll go with a fake identity. After that you're of course free to change it back."

"Well, what if I don't even want to be here?" Iris asked. "This isn't a hospital, is it?"

"No", the old man admitted. "This is my master's manor."

"Why in the hells am I here and not in a hospital?"

"Too dangerous to keep you in there. They’re searching for you. Ishgard has its own underworld as well, and criminals are closely connected. There aren't many viera in the city. Becoming a patient in a public hospital would be like a red flag to the ones who are after you", he explained.

There was a short silence again. It seemed Iris was forced to be stuck with these people for a while, so for the sake of comfort she should at least try to get along with them. Though, Lareine? Pff, didn't sound like her at all. Too fancy. She'd definitely change her own name back right after she was out of here.

"Gramps..?" she asked, hestitating.

"You may call me Arsene", the old man said and offered a polite bow.

"Gramps", Iris repeated. "Could you... like... help me sit?"

Grinning, Arsene carefully helped Iris into a half-sitting position, since apparently - after a couple of attempts and lots of cursing - sitting wasn't available. Seemed also an independent drinking and eating was out of the question, since even Iris' better hand was so weak and shaking she couldn't hold a spoon with it, even less a glass. Seven hells... If she was going to need care like this for an undefined period of time, she was at least going to make sure the one giving it was Arsene and not his master. Iris decided to attempt some small talk.

"That's... uh... a very nice flower over there", she tried to come up with something to say in the almost empty room she couldn't properly see out from. "I like flowers."

"Thank you. That means a lot to me", Arsene said, delighted. "I raise them. There's lots of them in our little garden. My master isn't much into flowers otherwise except in the medical sense, but for some reason he likes sunflowers as well."

"Oh...", Iris noted. Suddenly she noticed she no longer liked sunflowers.

---> Part 5

[shygeek1999]

My Soulmate WHAT?!?

Shiro saw his skin start forming a bruise on his knee when he was thirteen. The bruise was not his own and didn’t hurt as much as it should. When he told his mom she smiled. “I guess your soulmate is tough.” was all she said.

His soulmate. Shiro looked at the bruise closer. “I don’t like it.” He said with a pout. And that day he made a vow. When he finally meets his soulmate, he will do everything in his power to protect them.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

At twenty five Shiro had yet to find his soulmate. Which is not uncommon but he had thought he would have meet them by now. What he did know was that they where hard on their body. Bruises would pop up daily ranging from small ones on his knees and knuckles to giant ones across his ribs. He even had scars all over his body from when his soulmate got cut by things, a few looked pretty serious. He guessed that some of the bruises where from broken bones since they didn’t heal as fast as the others.

Shiro couldn’t complain though. He had decided to go into the military with his best friend, Matt, and younger brother, Keith, where he sustained many injuries at the age of 22. During his time in Afghanistan, an IED went off next to him. He remembered laying on his back and looking at the sky. There was pressure just under his eyes and on the bridge of his nose but he wasn’t concerned about that. What concerned him more was the fact that he couldn’t feel his right arm. He heard screaming as his vision blackened and he fell into unconsciousness.

He woke up to a steady beeping. Keith was sitting to his left and Matt was next to Keith. They explained that he had lost his arm and was given a prosthetic that would move just like his own flesh one did. Shiro also learned that Matt, Keith and himself where honorably discharged from active duty.

This then left him to his own devices. The military had already payed for his medical training so he put away his army boots and took up EMT training.

He didn’t know a few months later he would find his soulmate.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Male victim fallen from a third story landing. Station 1 Aid Car responding.

The call came through at quarter till noon and within seconds Shiro was in the back of the Aid Car riding to the scene. According to dispatch, a male had been pushed off a third story landing while fighting two men. The suspects escaped leaving the victim and their friend alone to wait for the paramedics. Unfortunately for Shiro his soulmate had chosen that day to get hurt again. Big bruises formed over the right side of his ribs, chest and shoulder as if they had only been hurt on the one side.

As soon as he stoped moving, Shiro was flinging the doors open and bringing the stretcher out on to the pavement. Together him and his partner, David who drove the ambulance, walked over to the victim.

A large man was crouched next to a figure on the ground. One of his hands was on the victim’s shoulder while the other was waving at Shiro. “Thank goodness you’re here.” He said as David and Shiro got closer. “I’m Hunk, the one that called. And this dummy is Lance. He tried to fight two guys in our building because he thought ‘it would be fun’. Just so you know he is a bit of an adrenaline junky so you might be seeing him more.” Hunk explained.

“I’m not an adrenaline junky. I prefer bad as-“

“Language!” Hunk yelled.

Shiro smiled as he pulled on his gloves. “Well thank you for the warning.” He said politely. He then turned his gaze to Lance. The man was laying on his back staring straight at Shiro with his ocean blue eyes. His hair was a dark chestnut color while his slim but lean body looked more like caramel. And if he couldn’t look any hotter to Shiro, he was wearing a blue tank top, where he could see that his right shoulder was dislocated and a nice bruise not unlike his own was, with cut off shorts and black converse. Yup. Shiro was in for it this time.

“Alright Lance. Where does it hurt the most?” Shiro asked nicely as he started probing the exposed shoulder.

“The right side of my chest and ribs. I didn’t hit my head though, now I think I am seeing an angel in front of me.” Lance said as he flirted with Shiro shamelessly.

Alight blush covered his face making his scar on his nose stand out more. “Alright lets take a look at that then.” He said.

It took a few minutes to determine that Lance needed to go to the hospital so Shiro and David loaded him on to the stretcher. Hunk said that he needed to make a call but would follow the ambulance. Soon enough it was only Shiro and Lance in the back of the ambulance as David drove.

“So. You thinking what I’m thinking?” Lance said suggestively.

Shiro rolled his eyes but humored the man. “No. What are you thinking?”

“We are soulmates.” Lance said as if it where nothing.

Shiro’s eyes widened at Lance. “How do you figure?” He asked intrigued.

“Well..” Lance started. “For one, you have been favoring your right side as if you where in pain. I know it could be a coincidence but hear me out.” He said talking in Shiro’s expression. “You and I have matching scars across our noses. I hide mine with makeup but I am pretty sure the ones on your right arm match the ones I have.” He said.

Shiro hadn’t even seen the scars there. He was more worried about the dislocated shoulder more than anything. But truth be told, the scars where there. His own scars mirrored on the others arm.

“So what do you want to do about it?” Shiro asked.

By that time the ambulance had stopped and people where coming to the doors.

“Dinner and a nice night out once I’m out of here.” Lance said as the doors opened.

Shiro blushed but agreed.

He was head over heels in love with his soulmate.

Well that was fun to write. This fic is for @langsty-fan I am their gifter for the Langstron Exchange and I was really excited to make this. I hope you all enjoyed it and I have more fics coming soon.....Hopefully.

[thewildheroine]

Fly Away |Part Thirty-Three|

Warnings: Abuse mentions, coma, severe injury, minor gore, near death, nightmares

Word Count: 4.5K

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

A/N: Ok so this is literally my favorite chapter that I’ve ever written. I just love it a lot. Like... fnjbejkwbjkfbk it just makes me happy. I hope you guys enjoy it just as much as I did and if you like it please reblog loves!!!❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

(OH! and a lot of old dialogue/lines were brought back in this chapter. (; )

|Masterlist|

|Part Thirty-One|  |Part Thirty-Two|  |Part Thirty-Four|

She suffered from severe laceration all over her body, the majority on her back, eight broken ribs, a broken collarbone, a dislocated shoulder, a concussion, a puncture wound just below her right hip, a deep stab wound that caused internal bleeding, a collapsed lung, and a bruising along her spine.

The woman pauses. I don’t know who she is, but Stephen keeps calling her Christine. She sounds like a doctor from the way she speaks. If I astral projected I could see if I was right. I don’t want to use magic right now. All I want to do is sleep.

Our scans haven’t shown any serious or long-lasting damage to her brain but we won’t know for sure until she wakes up. She taps her foot on the floor, considering what to say next. Stephen, can I speak to you alone?  I hadn’t known there was anyone else here with us. The other person doesn’t speak, doesn’t grunt or disagree. Whoever it is just stands and leaves.

Once they’re gone and the door shuts the woman begins speaking again.

I understand that magic and spell-casting is your line of work Stephen —

The mystical arts.

I scoff to myself.

—but you’re bringing kids into it now? She’s sixteen!

I’m not the one who brought her into it in the first place, Christine! Stephen yells back. I pray no one hears them. It was her piece of shit father who forced her to do this when she was a toddler. I only wanted to protect her and I…

His voice trails off, but I know what he was going to say next. I failed. That was going to be the next word. Failed. After that summary of my injuries, I might be tempted to believe it.

I’m sorry Stephen. I didn’t—

It’s okay, he reassures her . I just—I wanted to keep her safe even when I didn’t actually care. When I found her she was a nuisance but she was my responsibility. Now she’s still my responsibility and she’s definitely still a nuisance, I chuckle in response, but she’s special. Now when I actually do care and she’s hurt I—I feel like…

I feel the faintest sensation of a rough, scarred hand covering my own. The energy around it is pained… sad. I frown and try to grab it back. No matter how much I will it though my fingers refuse to move.

Like my heart has been ripped out of my chest.

She’ll be okay Stephen, Christine reassures him. She’s going to wake up.

There’s silence. I will my mouth to move while there is a chance for me to be heard, but my lips stay locked together, unable to open.

She won’t forgive me though, he tells her. I tried to save her. I sacrificed myself so she could get out, and yet she still ended up hurt. Her body will heal, but what about her mind? Y/N���s father had already hurt her so much. What will this do to her?

If she’s anything like you, she touches my other hand, then the pain will allow her the opportunity to grow.

Stephen doesn’t reply to Christine’s encouragement. Instead, his other hand wraps around mine. Christine’s fingers pull away from me and I listen as she crosses the hospital room, stopping at the doorway.

Don’t stay too long, okay Stephen?

He says nothing. The door shuts with a soft thud, leaving the two of us alone.

I think I hear him sob.

Stephen had left a long time ago. At least it felt like it did. He left and the other person who was here with me never came back. By the lack of noise, I assume it must be night time. Just like when I came back home.

Being in this state, a coma they said, it feels like I’m sitting outside my own mind, blind and only able to hear. I know I’m still apart of my body, but it just doesn’t feel like it. It feels like I’m floating. Like I’m rising higher and higher without any fear of the consequences. I can’t seem to remember what it’s like to be one with myself.

At least I can sleep.

I’m falling.

The sun hangs above me, calling for me to come back. I don’t reach out though. My arms stay locked to my side and I keep falling.

I wonder when I’m going to hit the ground. Each sound makes me flinch, but the impact never comes. Soon enough I’m more annoyed by the dream than frightened. I’m falling. The sun is shouting. I never meet the earth below.

I feel my hair around my face, resisting gravity and pulling upward. My dress does the same. It’s the same dress I wore during the press conference.

I had done things, said things, that I wasn’t proud of. Even. Now I’m working to accept that some of what I did wasn’t my fault.

My father’s face flashes in front of my face.

Whatever you do, it will be influenced by me, by the experiences you’ve had because of me.

“Stop it,” I beg softly.

You’ll never escape my hold. I’ll always be a nagging voice in your head, one that you will listen to.

“Please…”

I’ll always be a part of you, Y/N.

“Stop it!” I reassert. He’s still there.

You can’t kill me in any way that matters.

“STOP!”

I find myself staring in the mirror sometimes and listing off all of the things I hate about myself until I’m saying things that aren’t even real or just flat out don’t fucking matter at the end of the day.

I’m falling.

My arms feel a little looser, but I still can’t reach out for the sun. The ground does not come to claim me.

I’ve never done this. Goodbyes I mean. I never had the chance to. My mother died before hello, my father disappeared without leaving so much as a note, and people have left my life before I could even find a way to care enough to say goodbye.

I want to stop falling.

It’s you guys or me. My magic or the end I fear more than anything else. Your end. The end of everyone I love.

I just want to sleep.

This is the story of how I come to the end of myself.

Let me touch the sun.

Thank you for loving me in all the ways I never thought a person could and then loving me more. I may have found my end, but thank you for making it a good one.

The sun.

This was the story of how I came to the end of myself. I am the Icarus… And I have loved the sun far too deeply not to burn for it.

I only want to touch the sun.

But I’m falling.

It enhances her in ways she doesn’t even understand yet.

Green flashes in front of my eyes, tinting the gold sun.

I’m saying Y/N would be our only hope.

I can move my hands.

It has always been a part of her and we have absolutely no right to remove it from her without her wanting it too.

Feeling returns to my forearms.

Your magic which enhanced the time stone.

I roll my shoulders.

Your magic was a gift from destiny itself and by fusing the time stone with it you were able to gain full access to its powers.

I reach towards the sun.

Your magic is your soul, and as long as you’re alive your soul will want to come home.

And I finally meet the ground.

I don’t want to sleep anymore.

There’s the sudden rustling of plastic as someone enters my room. The monitor next to me beeps consistently.

Like always, I’m sitting in the passenger seat of my own body. No one except for Christine has been coming in lately. She talks to me like I’m going to miraculously open my mouth and reply. She tells me the time, luckily, as well as the weather, the news. She even tells me who is coming in to see me. That’s how I know it’s Tony who walks through the door.

I listen as he walks to my bedside and places something down. He paces the perimeter of my room for a moment before finally settling in the creeky chair designated for me. Maybe they think it will wake me up sooner.

I brought you flowers, he tells me. A sort of weird tradition to me since they die so quickly. Little ironic for a hospital. Not that I’m saying you’re going to die. You’re too stubborn for that. He speaks like he’s distracted, but I guess he usually is. His fingers tap against a machine by my head.

You know, I’m sort of hoping you can’t hear any of this, Tony says. Rhodey says he didn’t hear my whole coma speech while he was out and neither did Happy. Knowing you, you probably will remember this for some reason.

There’s a lull as though he’s finally taking a moment to take in my appearance. The chair creaks.

Why?

I roll my eyes. “I’m pretty sure you guys already had this discussion.”

I get why you saved us and the Earth because of the whole hero thing. That I can understand. But why did you trust us, Y/N?

Oh.

You had no reason to, he continues. You’re father… he practically tortured you. You were abused mentally, verbally and physically. You were abandoned and used over and over again. He came back only to taunt you. There was no reason for you to trust any of us. After what happened to you people might say it was dumb of you to trust us. Yet you did.

I smile. “Yet I did,” I reply.

We didn’t do much to deserve it.

“Neither did I.”

We kidnapped you from school, tossed you in Bruce’s lab and let Strange deal with you.

I laugh.

What I’m trying to say is sorry.

“Don’t.”

I’m sorry for dragging you into this.

“Stop it, Tony.”

Maybe if we just let you live your life you wouldn’t be here in need of a coma monologue.

“You’re right.” I wish he could hear me. “I might’ve ended up somewhere worse.”

I’m also saying thank you, Y/N, Tony says. I know you were never one for trust. Trusting adults at least. Why should you have been though? What with your father. But I want you to know that I have never felt so much genuine pleasure as I did when I realized you trusted me. You had no reason to. I pulled you from the life you knew, I forced that stupid fucking bracelet on you, I forced you into being an Avenger, but you trusted me. So wake up. Someday just wake up so I can yell at you for drinking too much coffee and tease you for kissing Peter. Just wake up, and I promise I will show you I am worth trusting.

The chair creaks again, telling me he got up. I have a press conference today. Since you messed with time we went back to a couple of days after your interview and everyone is making me handle the news. I listen as he walks back towards the door, stops, walks back towards me and ruffles my hair.

“Really?” I chide angrily.

Have fun in your coma, Y/N. He opens the door to leave again. I’ll see you later.

I’m falling.

The part where I hit the ground is coming up.

I reach for the sky, but this time I land on something cold. It’s freezing in fact. Tilting my head to the side, I look to see where I am. Below me is a rippling black mass. I jolt and try to push myself, but the tar of Dormammu’s hand is holding me down. All I can do is stare up and into his neon purple eyes.

But they’re not purple.

They’re the color of my father’s.

His gaze is sharp and unyielding. He glares down at me like I’m a worthless ant that happened below his foot.

When will you realize this single lesson Y/N? You are not the hero of this story. You are the Icarus. You yearned for the light and warmth the sun provided you with after never having seen it. Y/N, you were destined to fall at some point. We all are. This hope you harbor within yourself was just the catalyst to your own destruction.

I sob weakly as the darkness begins to pull me in. “Just let me touch the sun.”

You’re worthless, he tells me.

“The sun.”

You were born worthless, the tar wraps over my mouth and I’m suddenly tugged under, and you will die worthless.

Hey Blue. His voice pulls me out of the darkness.

Peter.

Sorry for not staying long yesterday, he says. So he was the other person in my room. After your doctor asked me to leave I went to go check on everyone. Then I wanted to swing around the city.

“You were distracting yourself,” I reply, even though he can’t hear me. Even though I can’t open my mouth.

I may have been trying to distract myself.

I laugh.

You know when you left me at Kamar-taj, guilt shoots through me, I thought you were gonna come back a lot quicker. I thought I was gonna open my eyes and boom, you’d be standing in front of me looking victorious. Like you’d just conquered the world. Like you had just saved the world.

The chair creaks. I hear something sounding like a backpack full of books hit the floor.

Cause that's what you did. You saved us all. You killed Dormammu. You turned back time, he exclaims. You were the hero…

But you don't look like you've won, he whispers. You —you—

Something sounding like choking comes from where Peter is sitting.

You just look hurt, Y/N. His hand finds mine. I just want to hold it back. I just want to hold his hand. You're so pale and there are so many cuts. How did you get so many cuts?

“It's okay Peter.”

I feel so helpless, Y/N, he confesses. There's nothing I can do to help you and I'm supposed to be Spider-Man. I'm supposed to save people, so why couldn't I save you?

“I had to save myself, Peter.” He squeezes my hand hard. I hold back my wince “I had to be my own hero in this story.”

I don’t want to tell you to wake up, he says. You deserve to sleep, Y/N. After all you’ve been through. You deserve the chance to really rest for once. You have suffered more than I can ever comprehend. All you’ve been through, all you’ve done is a testament to how strong you had to be. For once you don’t have to be strong anymore. You can sleep.

If you are somehow awake in there though, he continues, then I want to say this at least. The day you left, you told me you loved me. I never said it back. I feel a familiar pair of lips on my own. They’re so soft. Softer than the day I left. I want to kiss him back but I stay locked to the bed, unmoving, unresponsive. He stays close even when we break apart so I can feel his breath on my skin.

I love you, Y/N L/N, he proclaims. You’re my hero and I love you for that and so much more.

Beeping suddenly fills the room, though it’s not from the monitor. Peter’s presence over me disappears and I’m left cold on the hospital bed.

I have to go now, he informs me, but I want you to know you can stay asleep for as long as you need to Y/N. You deserve to sleep. You deserve the damn universe, but if all you want is to sleep then you sleep. Just remember that whenever you wake up I’ll be around. You could sleep a thousand years and I would find a way to be with you when you wake up. Maybe try to aim for the tomorrow though.

Then Peter’s gone

And I’m falling again.

Every time I have this dream or see these visions there’s always something different. Every time something changes.

This time I’m not falling.

I’m running.

I’m running on air. Running straight down towards the ground. Oblivion. I can’t help but wonder what happens when I meet the ground. I hear the feral sound of Dormammu above me, his hand chasing me down. The planets are falling in on Earth, destroying everything.

I keep running.

People have been coming in the past couple of days. My friends, the Avengers. At least I think they have been. They weren’t loud enough and their presence didn’t make the dream end. Now I can’t stop running. The dream won’t end because I can’t reach the ground and I certainly won’t touch the sun. Dormammu might catch me first.

I remember the feeling of my ribs breaking. The memory makes me collapse. All the pain at that moment is surreal and the dream slows to match my new pace: a weak crawl.

Hey Y/N. Stephen.

“Wake me up,” I beg to him. He can’t hear me though. No one can. I am silent.

I always pitied people who would try talking to those they loved while they were in a coma, he tells me. The chair creaks. I keep crawling from death. It seemed so desperate to me. Last resort. Congratulations Y/N. You’ve managed to bring me to the last resort. I don’t know where to start though…

I feel my collarbone snap. The scream that tears itself out of my throat brings with it blood. Too much blood.

I used to have a sister you know? God, she was nearly as stubborn as you. Nearly. She’s the reason I became a doctor. She did pass away though.

“Stephen.” I try to force my mouth to move. I try to force my fingers to flex or my eyes to flutter. My body remains paralyzed on the bed though.

I feel my dad’s kick to my stomach.

My sister got sick, and she depended on me to save her, but I couldn’t. You’re a lot like her. That same glow in your eyes, the same humor, the compassion, but there is the smallest difference in your persistence.

My fingers are beginning to bleed from clawing at the air. Every breath is like being stabbed. I feel the force of an explosion throw me onto the side, the fire singing my skin. I keep crawling. Dormammu lets out another monstrous scream.

My sister wouldn’t give up on me, Stephen continues. You, Y/N? You never ever give up on yourself. You’re so strong.

“I don’t want to be strong anymore,” I whimper.

There hasn’t been a day where the universe hasn’t wanted to run you six feet under. Every day there is a new struggle. Every day the same villains come back to haunt you. But you’re so damn stubborn. Even when you seem to be gone, even when you believe you’ve given up on yourself, you’re still fighting. You refuse to lay down and beg for mercy. You want to have faith. You want to be the hero. You want to live.

My hands stop clawing at the air. I stop feeling pain. Dormammu’s hand stops chasing me. The dream stops.

“I want to live.”

That’s what’s so special about you. I’ve never met someone who wants to live as much as you. Even when you’re walking towards death itself, I start moving towards the ground again, you’re clinging to life. You’ve always had your hands around it. In your sixteen years of life, you’ve become the greatest treasure death can hope to possess. The pain in my chest fades away. You lay your life on the line, but you always hope for the great escape.

I can breathe again

Don’t stop being stubborn now.

I stand.

Don’t let death creep up on you. If you find that you can’t be stubborn anymore, let me be stubborn for you. Let me remind you that you are the most heroic, persistent, compassionate, and complex person I’ve had the pleasure of meeting.

I turn towards Dormammu.

Let me promise you that you won’t be waking up for nothing.

I wait and listen.

Stark and I, we have an idea, Stephen tells me. I want to take you under my wing Y/N. I want you to be a real prodigy. My prodigy. I can take you to Kamar-taj and teach you everything I can.

I spread my arms out. Deep inside I can feel my magic humming in preparation.

With me becoming the Sorcerer Supreme, Wong suggested something to me. It’s only a suggestion. If you’d accept, we- I would like you to be Guardian. It’s an old practice. The role hasn’t been used for hundreds of years, but I think you would be worth bringing it back for.

I smile up at Dormammu.

Then one day, you would take my place.

My feet disconnect from the air, and I fall backward.

I can hear the heart rate monitor. I can hear the shrill beep that announces I’m flatlining. I can hear Stephen shout my name, I can hear the doctors rush in but most of all I hear the wind. It bursts past my face, shooting through my hair and curling around my finger tips.

“Running just seems to be all I’m good at.”

The wind is magic. It’s my magic. It’s mine to bend and shape and enhance. The wind is mine to use. All I need is wings.

“Hey, Y/N, you are an incredible person and I know that running away can’t be all-”

“But I am good at it. That’s what you’re saying, right Vera? That hey, you can do magic and shit pretty well but yeah, you are pretty good at running.”

The ground is coming closer. Stephen is still screaming at me to get up. I will. I will get up.

As he said, I want to live.

“I had the choice to run away right then and there. You knew I had my sling ring on me but I stayed.”

“Why?”

“Because I am so fucking sick of running.”

Finally, I turn my head to the sky. I look past Dormammu, past the falling planets and I see the sun. I raise my hand towards it.

I had a moment to learn how to crawl...

A familiar weight collects on my back. One that I’ve missed dearly.

...A second to walk...

My magic hums excitedly in my fingers. It’s ready. I’m ready.

...A minute to begin running...

It’s time for me to stop running away from the sun. This entire time I’ve been falling away from it. All this time I’ve only been reaching for it as I let myself come closer and closer to the ground. Now I know what I need to do.

I unfurl my blue wings. The wind bends around them, pushing past the feathers and magic within them.

...All without falling…

Everything is screaming around me. Dormammu, the planets, the heart monitor, Stephen, my magic, the wind. Everything is screaming except for me. I am the center of the hurricane.

...Before I forced myself to jump…

I want to live.

...And fly away.

My wings snap against the wind, pulling away from the ground and towards the sky. Everything in between doesn’t matter. It is only the ground, the sun, and me. Everything else disintegrates. Dormammu, the planets, the scream. It’s just me flying towards the sun, basking in the warmth it is offering.

I pound my wings harder and harder, the exhilaration of finally feeling it on my fingers motivating me to go higher faster. It is so close. Close enough for me to feel it in my heart, filling my veins. The sun is home. It is what I fell for and it is what I will rise for.

This is the story of how I only came to the beginning of myself.

I am the Icarus…

And I have loved the sun far too deeply not to fly for it.

“Y/N!” That is the very first thing I hear as I’m waking up. Then a beep. Just one for a moment. Then another and another until the noise has turned consistent.

My fingers clench around the covers, squeezing the blankets.

I can move.

I sigh, more thankful than I’ve ever been and start opening my eyes.

At first, it is only light. Bright white light that makes me wince and turn my head away. There’s something on my face, around my nose and mouth. I don’t pay much attention to it for now. I’m too focused on feeling. Something in my chest aches horribly. Like someone lit it on fire for the past minute just to see what would happen. The rest of my body hurts, but not in that way. Everything else feels much number. The pain in my stomach, my collar bone, my head. It all just pulses faintly. A small reminder of all that’s happened.

Then there’s a hand on my own, scarred and ruined and familiar. I try to smile despite the stinging in my face where I must’ve gotten cut by debris. It hurts but I think I succeed in making the corners of my lips turn upwards.

“Y/N?” Stephen asks this time as though he needs to check that I am, in fact, alive. I turn my hand over and squeeze his fingers.

Opening my eyes again I look up. The light is still there but it isn’t as bright as before. I can finally see that the thing on my face is a resuscitation mask and the burning sensation was from the defibrillator on the metal table.

I look at Stephen last. He’s staring at me, just staring. It looks like he’s watching a ghost.

Fearfully, I look down at my hands to make sure I’m actually connected to my body and not floating around in my astral form.

When I’m positive that I’m really here I reach up with my free hand to pull off the mask. Stephen sees what I intend to do before I do it. He pulls it off for me instead and places it on the metal table.

I blink my eyes hard to try and get rid of the blurriness that almost feels stiff. Nothing feels right. Everything is just a little warped. Not much but enough for me to notice. My eyes feel useless.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Stephen reassures, capturing my attention again. “It’s going to take a bit before you get your bearings. Just stay calm.”

I nod, my head feeling like a ton of bricks. I try to come up with something to say. Something that might relieve the tension. There are still doctors standing around, making sure I don’t die again.

“Well,” I croak, my voice rough from not being used for so long, “that was horrible.”

A/N: I’m going to begin cross-posting Fly Away as well as my other stories on @thewildheroine-archives

For anyone who would like to not wait for me to upload the rest, the other chapters are already on my Ao3. Thank you for taking the time to read. Please comment what you thought or reblog.

If you’d like to be tagged let me know :)

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Bop2

The trip to Olkarion had exhausted him. Lance wasn't just physically injured and suffering, but mentally unstable. He'd learnt that the hard way when he'd woken up to Lance screaming. Yorak's jaws were wrapped around his friend's wrists as his wolf tried to disarm Lance, the blade in Lance's hands mere millimetres from Keith's throat. The worst bit though, was that Lance didn't even seem to be "awake", or aware of the fact he'd tried to slit Keith's throat. After taking the blade from him, Yorak released his hold and Lance collapsed back against the blankets. After that came the nightmares, stemming from the lack of sedative induced dreamless sleep. Lance would scream for vargas in his sleep, not waking or stirring, no matter what Keith tried. Lance would simply go limp, and unresponsive, a few doboshes later his wheezes become rhythmic as he fell back into a peaceful cycle that would only last one or two vargas... if Keith was lucky. Lance's body might be healing, but he feared that when Lance woke, he wasn't going to be the same person he'd known. Pidge was still making jokes as Black had placed Red down carefully. Teasing him that there was no way Lance could possibly be as bad as he'd described. She was the first person he wanted to see Lance like this. He wanted to get under her skin and knock her down a few pegs, but once again his protective instincts had surged. He couldn't bare to have anyone else touching Lance, so had carried the unconscious Paladin straight to the Coalition hospital alone. Lance then rushed from his sight as Keith internally melted down. Disgusted by his own weakness, he'd taken off. Not once had Lance been coherent or awake enough to even talk to him, nor had Keith managed to bring his fever back under control. Everything he'd done had barely been enough and it hurt on a whole other level, that he didn't understand. Keith was back in Black when his mother found him, angrily scrubbing the cargo bay floor clean of Lance's blood and vomit. That had been another thing. The vomit. It's purpleness was just... gross, and each time Lance had weakly vomited, it'd been accompanied by the sound of some kind of internal crunching. His mother had thought him to access and accept his Galra senses, and now he heard too much. Rinsing the cloth he was using, he dropped it back into the bucket, sitting back on his heels as his mother walked into the cargo bay, squatting down beside him "Keith?" "It's fine mum" "It's not fine. Your friend is seriously ill" "Yep. He spent a phoeb suffering because I didn't reach him in time" "Keith, it wasn't your fault" "Really? I come back to lead Voltron and this is what happens..." "Sendak is to blame. As are the other Paladins" Guiding him to sit properly, his mother placed her hands on his shoulders "So you've noticed?" "How they aren't quite what you described?" "Things never used to be like this. You saw my memories. You saw how things were" "I did. And I've seen that Lance has been hurting for quite some time" "What's that supposed to mean?" "Even before you left, things had already begun to change. Shiro, no, Kuron was already blaming Lance. The others followed his lead and dismissed him. You were all to close to see what was happening, and it has lead to a fracturing of the team" "Sometimes the closer you are, the less you see" "Exactly. You're all so young, with such a big burden on your shoulders. You're all still trying to find your place in the world, and understand who you really are. You've grown and changed in your time apart from them. You've found a new maturity that the others are just starting to come into" "That's probably why I'm struggling to handle Pidge. Her constant dismissal of Lance... it isn't fair on him. He doesn't deserve the way he's been treated" "You have feelings for him?" "What? No. Not like that" "He was a good friend to you..." "And that's just it. A friend. Nothing more... but mum, something's happened. I noticed a really sweet smell coming from him, and since then, well... I've had this stupid desire to protect him. Like really protect him. I didn't even want the team to get too close to him. I didn't feel that way before he disappeared, not until I touched him" "Is it possible you were exposed to something?" "I don't know. Lance was vomiting and burning a fever, so while I may have been, I have no idea what is" "I was thinking more along the lines of a love bug" Keith sighed. He'd been trying to have a serious conversation "It sounds to me like you have feelings for him" "I don't have feelings for Lance! That's what I'm trying to tell you..." "Keith, its alright if you do. I saw how close you two became, and I know he was excited over you return" "He barely said two words to me" "Because you didn't let him. The situation with Lotor was too urgent, then there was also the issue with Shiro and you're still grieving over the loss of the friend you knew. There was also the attack by Sendak's forces, and delay in returning to Earth. You've been under tremendous stress" "Maybe. It's just... I was supposed to protect them. You know. I lost Shiro, and I don't want to lose Lance" "Are you certain there was never a moment you entertained the thought of Lance as more than a friend? You did take years to truly be able to figure out what you felt for Shiro" "Are you saying I'm stupid?" "No. Just oblivious. Lance is a good boy, who cares deeply for you" "So you really think I have a thing for Lance?" "At the very least, know that he does have feelings for you. Romantic ones, before you start to argue" "I... what... no he doesn't. He liked Allura" "Keith, you can like more than one person at once. Feelings are a complicated thing" "I just don't think what I'm feeling right now is something natural..." "Galra males can't be very protective and possessive of their partners" His mother's singsong tone had Keith grinding his teeth together. He knew his feelings weren't exactly normal. As in. He didn't always feel what everyone else did over things, but this... this was different. A scary different. Like he had no control over it... and that scent... even cleaning up Black, it wouldn't leave his nose. No. Something was definitely wrong her "If you're that concerned, we can have you checked" "What are the others going to say?" "Just say Lance was vomiting and feverish, and you're getting tested as precaution" "I suppose..." At least he'd have answers "Good. We can leave this for later. Coran hasn't had anything to do of late" "I am capable of cleaning my own lion" "And so is he. It will make him feel better, provided you aren't contagious" * With blood samples taken Keith was now standing by Lance's bedside, as he attempted to look anywhere else but at his friend. The only noise in the room was the soft hiss coming from the release valve on the breathing tube running down Lance's throat, each time Lance released a "breath". His colour was still horrible, around his eyes a deep black-blue and his lips cracked. Hunk had taken one look at Lance and burst into tears, despite having snobbed him just as badly as Pidge had of late. Standing next to him, Keith could hear Shiro mentally blaming himself for this happening, while Allura, Romelle and Coran had lead the crying and shaking form of Hunk from the room, so they were all outside with Pidge. With a lack of answers and knowledge over what was happening, his mother had taken it upon herself to find out "Keith, he's going to be ok" Keith jumped at Shiro's soft voice, too busy feeling guilty for not being able to look at Lance "We don't know that" "Once we understand what we are dealing with, we'll be able to place him into the healing pod" "The pod can't hold charge, and we don't have the same levels of power available to us, like we did with the castle. I know you've already come to the same conclusion as I did" "We could be in for a long stay" "Exactly. He was the who was most looking forward to returning to Earth, and now we may never... without him, we can't even form Voltron. Has Pidge taken a look yet?" "No. She and Hunk were... actually, I'm not completely sure what they were doing" "Can you ask them to make that their top priority. We need to know if this is to do with Lance's health, or if something was dislodged in Red" "What are you going to do?" "As leader of Voltron, Lance's health falls under my responsibility. I'm going to talk with his doctor about his condition. Once we know what he needs, it'll be easier to get him back onto his feet, and make plans for either returning home, or beefing up things here on Olkarion" "Alright. I'll inform the others" "Thanks, Shiro" He didn't want to be alone with Lance. He wanted to reach out and take his friends hand, but his mother's words about "feelings" came to mind. He didn't know what to make of Lance's feelings. Lance flirted with everyone. Age, race and gender didn't really seem to matter, which was why Keith was shocked to find Lance had actually had real feelings for Allura. There was no way she could possible be right. Lance had never had those kinds of feelings for him before, and he didn't have feelings for Lance. The others had left by the time his mother returned, the doctor behind her looked slightly scared as he inched his way around the room and to the opposite side of Lance's bed. Checking the breathing tube was still in place, and Lance's vitals, the man logged them in his tablet before looking up at him "You'll be handling Lance's medical decisions?" "Yes" The man signed "He's in bad shape" Keith resisted the urge to punch him. When he could tell that Lance was in a bad way "Maybe you should just tell us what's wrong?" "Let's start from the feet. Dislocated left knee, with a closed fracture in left leg... oh so, he has a displaced fracture half was down his fibula which has healed on the wrong angle. It is the same with fracture in his right radius. His ribs... well, there's more of those broke than not, also healing wrong, once those are corrected, he will be able to breathe properly, the swelling and positioning means that currently he is unable to take a proper breath. He also has fluid in his lungs, but was lucky as the were not perforated due to the breaks. He fighting a viral infection, as well fighting a fever of unknown origin. We do not know how it was introduced into his system, but it is changing him on a basic level" Basic level... that had to mean at his base... sooo "His DNA is changing?" "Indeed. But without previous data, it is hard to make comparisons, but it does seem to be the direct cause of his scent, and fever" "Coran should have a copy of that" "Excellent. Now. In the crash, he also sustained trauma to base of his skull, and..." The man hummed, before pointing just above Lance's left ear and continuing, obvious he thought he had to dumb it down when it came to the brain... because he couldn't have softened the blow earlier... "... With all head injuries, we can never truly know what the outcome will be until he wakes. There was some bruising to his internal organs, but that is healing. All in all, it's amazing he survived this long" Of course Lance had survived. He was a survivor. His mother took over, given he'd actually growled. He'd never growled at anyone in his life like that... and now he didn't know what to do or say... because he had no idea why he'd growled in first place "What are the treatment options?" "With the pod, I am confident he will make a complete recovery" "We can't use the pod. If we use the pod, the breaks will heal the way they are now" The man clicked his tongue "He will need surgery. We will need to correct the breaks, and damage. Though we will need to treat his fever before we can perform the procedure. If we were to operate now, he would die on the table" Keith growled again, this time his mother grabbed his arm "Whatever has infected Lance, has possibly infected Keith..." "Ah. Yes. Keith, you are responding to the scent coming from Lance. It is activating the more beastial parts of your Galra genetics. Your symptoms will also pass once Lance's fever and scent does. Until then, I recommend wearing a mask, or avoiding Lance altogether. As I said. We do not know what's caused this, as no one else has been affected the same way from his scent, we believe he past the stage of being contagious" "So I have this thing... doesn't that mean I could be a carrier?" "No. You're purely reacting to his scent. As I said. Anything that may have been in your blood has passed. The damage that virus may have been doing to you has now passed, if you were even infected at all" "Mum, are you feeling anything? You're Galra, if it's the scent, then you should be feeling protective of him" His mother shook her head "Not to the same degree you are. What I'm feeling is concern as he means so much to you" "Not like that" He did not want anyone getting the wrong idea, that his mother seemed to be so happy to announce to the world "Keith, you're growling. You're possessive of him as he was your partner, and your own scent is angered by just looking at him" "Because of his scent. I'm not doing this. If I can't be here, I'll have to ask Shiro to step in" "Not Shiro" "What do mean "not Shiro"? I thought you liked Shiro" "I do. I know he heavily regrets his actions, but Lance is ill and in pain, his mind possibly damaged. Shiro caused him pain... the mind makes leaps on its own" He didn't want to admit his mother was right, nor did he want to admit that he was secretly pleased. It was this stupid scent. That was it "In that case, Allura, Pidge and Hunk are out. Allura didn't return Lance's feelings, while Pidge and Hunk haven't been talking to him..." "Coran? He cares a great deal about Lance" "No, Coran needs to keep busy. He's like Lance. He needs to be doing something or he starts to over think things" "That leaves Romelle?" "Romelle doesn't understand what Lance is like. Besides, Lance would complain if we let a cute girl see him like this" "Oooh, so you think Romelle is cute?" "Really, that's what you're going to focus on?" "You've never called anyone cute. Even during our two years" "Lance would call Romelle cute" Keith wasn't getting into a whole other conversation about his sexuality. He'd had wet dreams and jerked off while thinking about both men and women, he didn't seem to really prefer one sex, instead more attracted to the person inside the body. He didn't know what he was, but he was fine with himself and that was the main thing... though Lance... would Lance feel the same? If they talked about these feelings, would Lance open up to him? They were kind of the same... which meant Lance had nothing to be ashamed of... unless he really did have feelings for him. Krolia patted his shoulder "I will watch him" "No... I should. If you're right about his mental state, he'll need a friendly face" "Are you saying I'm not friendly?" "No, but you are Galra and he doesn't know you, not really. Besides, I think he would class you in the "cute girl category"" "He's a sweet boy" "If you're staying, we should find you a mask" "I'll stay in the hall" "Keith, from what I've seen of Lance, he would be happier if someone was to hold his hand" "Lance is currently in a medically induced coma. Whether someone is here or not, he wouldn't know. If you would like, we can notify you once their is a change in his condition, and you can return to your team" "No. This is Voltron, we don't leave people behind, and Lance spent long enough on his own as it is" Great. He'd ruined his own argument and now he would be staying beside Lance, despite the fact he really shouldn't. Moving a chair to beside Lance's bed, Keith sank down with a weary sigh. They couldn't treat the fever without knowing what had caused it... they couldn't do anything but Lance sleep. His crushed ribs would be the first surgery... and then what? They slowly put Lance back together? Lance had to have been in agony... yet he'd somehow made a fire, and also drawn something or other on the "cave" walls... he'd tried to keep himself alive, but did give up on being rescued? Was that why he was unconscious, feeling that they'd abandoned him? It roused that protective instinct, and he reached for Lance's hand, carefully taking into his own. Even with a raging fever, Lance's fingers were as cold as ice, and so much thinner than they should be... how had he possibly survived like this? * Finding himself falling asleep by Lance's side, Keith wiped the small amount of drool pooling in his palm away, before growling. He was beyond frustrated. The others didn't know what to say to Lance once he woke, so they'd taken the out, of training the Olkarion in the ways of Lion tech. Red had been a stupidly easy fix, a loose connector... that funnily enough only the mice were small enough to actually reach. Lance hadn't stood a chance. No matter what he would have tried, he wouldn't have been able to reconnect the wires. It was almost laughable, with everything else going on. Lance's body was still producing the same sweet smell, but all they could do it leave the infection to finish doing it its thing, because Lance was evolving, or rather, forming a womb of all things. Something that should never have been possible under normal circumstances, but apparently it was an actual thing and he... he was screwed. After analysing the data, and bringing his mother in to consult on the findings, his mother had oh so casually dropped the bombshell that Haggar had experimented with such things. The goal of which was to make the ultimate loyal soldier, one that would do anything for their emperor and never give into their own desires of power. Only Lance wasn't Galra. His body responding completely differently than expected, and now this was happening. Even worse, the way his mother had explained it, Lance had imprinted on him. The herb had worked to make Lance more appealing for the person he held dearest... to please them and there was no mistaking the fact Lance had feelings for him now. No wonder it hadn't worked for Zarkon or Haggar. It hadn't created incredibly loyal soldiers, but it probably had increased the Galra population by a few thousand... because they totally needed the numbers. Because the experiment hadn't worked out, the quadrant of space had been stripped of its remaining resources before decimated, yet, somehow Lance had managed to get his hands on a some of that herb, and now this was happening. Keith had been waiting to wake up from all of this for the last two quintants, but apparently he was already awake and this wasn't some kind of wacky dream. Lance liked him. Lance wanted to be more appealing for him. Lance's body was changing to suit him. He didn't want any of this. Lance was fine the way he was. Annoying. Loud. Having no concept of personal space and flirting with anything that moves. That was Lance... not... not this. Surely they deserved a break. Some kind of holiday to reward their hard work? Some kind of holiday where he could avoid Lance until this whole thing blew over, because since when did Lance decide it was ok to have feelings for him? And why hadn't Lance's fever broken? Nope. He couldn't do this... he couldn't keep staring at Lance, when this was all his fault. He'd have to ask his mother to take over. He'd take a hot shower, get some proper sleep, a real meal, and come back when Lance was actually awake and able to tell him properly that this was all some giant misunderstanding... all of which he'd do once his hands actually listened to him and released Lance's. Which it totally wasn't doing right now.

[grocery--stories]

Redefining Comfort Food

My doctor recently told me I need physical therapy. “PFFFT” I responded. “I can get around fine.” “Sharon,” she said gently, “you fall down a lot. Like...a lot. Falling down is bad for you. PT will help you not fall down and break a hip.”

So, to physical therapy I went.

It was horrible. I knew it would be. My body is in pain all the time, and I knew they would add more to that. Fortunately, the guy who examined me today was pretty cool. He looked like one of those lumpy, rumpled, saggy couches, all wide and squishy but broken in and comfortable. And he absolutely did not know how to deal with my sense of humor.

“Stand straight and look at the top of my head,” he said at one point, bending over to check out my ankles. “Yeah...both of them,” he muttered to himself.

“But you only have the one,” I quipped, wincing as he squeezed my Achilles tendon.

He blinked up at me. “Um. What?”

“Head,” I said lamely. “You only have one...you know what, never mind.”

A minute and a half later, he burst out laughing. “Two heads!” he chuckled, and I laughed, relieved that he wouldn’t think I was just an insane English professor who made no sense.

(I hope.)

At the very beginning of the appointment I told him I was extremely anxious. Didn’t even try to hide it. I said that my coping mechanisms (such as cracking stupid jokes) were on at full power pretty much 24/7 and so adding anything to make them work harder was kind of terrifying to me.

“Coping mechanisms maxed out,” he said, writing on my sheet. “No extra pain. You know what? I’m going to write that at the very top. In really big letters.”

And then for the next hour he proceeded to move my body in ways that caused rather extreme amounts of pain.

I understand why. He had to see where my thresholds were, how much my joints could move (”GAD, your right ankle can manage a 24 degree flex, but your left will only go to 15!”), and what movements I could and could not do in order to determine the best course of therapy for me. Every now and then he’d pat me and say something encouraging, like, “Good news!! Your right wrist is in good shape!” or “Hey, you can still lift your hands over your head..that’s good!”

These are things I never expected anyone to say about my body. That part was hard, too. He was seeing and feeling up close and REALLY personally just how broken I really am, and no jokes could make that any easier. And he kept telling me I was broken in ways I didn’t even know about.

“Ok, your left ribs are at risk for dislocation, but your right ribs are solid!”

“I....wait, what?? I can dislocate a rib?”

Apparently I can. I need to be careful about that.

“You have a wandering toe,” he said at one point, examining my feet. 

“I know,” I laughed. “It decided to go walkabout around four or five months ago. Dunno where it plans to go, though.”

“We’re going to have to have a serious talk about your shoes.”

“Pretty sure Crocodile Dundee Toe isn’t going to come home just because I renovated her house.”

*squinty, strange look*

Me: *sigh* “Okay. We can talk about my shoes.”

All in all, I’d have to say it went well. I moved the way he told me to, said “Ow” when it hurt and cracked jokes to keep myself from hyperventilating. Only once I had to ask him to stop so I could put myself back together a little (I’m not speaking to my hips right now). I didn’t break down, but by the end of the exam I was covered in sweat and trembling all over. The physical therapist (whose name was Hal, btw) popped a yoga ball under my knees (don’t worry, I was lying down), said “Relax for a few minutes, I’ll be right back” and left the room. I positioned myself so I was relatively comfortable and tried to stop shaking.

Wow. This ball is REALLY comfortable, I thought. I like this yoga ball. I took one home with me.

Eventually Hal knocked and came back in. He didn’t say anything. He just walked up to me and put a large, warm hand on my leg and waited.

“I’m okay,” I finally said.

“I know,” he said, and went and sat down and we got down to business.

I’m going to need these interesting devices on my hands. They’re actually kind of cool looking and are designed to keep the joints from going “walkabout” too much. I have to have them custom made for me...I hope the person making them can make them pretty.

Why yes, I DID get a gift from Galadriel! Thank you for noticing!

I also have a few easy exercises with the yoga ball I need to do for about 10-20 minutes per day, so that’s not too bad either. It’s all good, and I’ll be okay, but I still desperately needed some comfort food after that ordeal, so OF COURSE I stopped by the grocery store on the way home.

I’m trying to eat healthier these days, and I didn’t want to soothe myself with something junky. So I bought a whole mess of vegetables and they are roasting in the oven right now. Roasted veggie soup sounded perfectly comforting on a cold day after a painful, difficult, and stressful appointment. Nothing of note happened at the store, alas, but I felt the need to write all this out and had to connect it to a grocery story in SOME way.

Be kind to yourselves, my peeps, especially on the days that aren’t particularly kind to you.

[simplelittlebrowngirljae]

Dating while chronically ill...

There is an aspect of living with chronic illness that is often not discussed: dating and romantic relationships. We all know that maintaining romantic relationships is hard enough when you are a well or able bodied person, but imagine how much more difficult it gets when you are consistently fighting a battle day in and day out?

I haven’t been in a serious relationship in years (almost 4 years to be exact). My last boyfriend conveniently left just as my health issues began to surmount—I had to have emergency surgery to remove an ovary, tube and mass in my pelvis and as I woke up from anesthesia not only were some of my organs gone, but so was my boyfriend. Crazy right? Since then, my health has declined and my life is very different and I am not an average 32 year old. Most of my time is spent in doctor’s offices, having tests and procedures done, getting labs done consistently, or even just recovering from existing because my body is tired from fighting itself all day long. When I come home from a long day, I often just want to relax and nap, and coming back out the house for dinner during the week or staying up late is just not something I do because I just physically can’t. Of course, this limits how I meet people and grow relationships. I have had many a potential suitor get very frustrated because I decline going out at 7pm on a weeknight or that I have had to reschedule because I have had a long day at work and body can literally do no more.

So because I don’t go out as often as I used to, I have tried a myriad of ways to meet guys and needless to say, it hasn’t worked out for various reasons. I often try to avoid bringing up my chronic illness for a while and just be a human, but many men just fall short. Now, if I am lucky to find one who can make the cut to getting my number, I often go back and forth about how forthcoming I should be about my health. Do I tell right away so they know what they are dealing with or do I try to hide it for months and pray that when I do reveal they are accepting? Well, I have tried it both ways and have had mixed reactions. But one thing that is consistent in response is this: after the initial ‘ aw man, that really sucks you deal with so much. You are really strong for going through all of this’ things then get interesting. If I start feeling comfortable and get honest with that person about how I feel and my highs and lows, they begin to withdraw or question things A LOT. For example, I get asked why are you so tired all the time? Or you have to cancel again? Or you aren’t feeling good again? Or you are still on bedrest? Or there is just a general pulling away and lack of concern and I end up spending more time by myself than with that person. I have often said that it will take a special type of person to step in and be okay with my conditions and be supportive and understand that I literally take each day as it comes. My symptoms vary and so do my methods of treating them, and part of my treatment is keeping my appointments, eating a certain way, resting, embracing alternative methods of healing in order to keep me going. But somedays, no matter if I did everything right, I will have a flare and my body will need to rest, so that means no going out for me. But that also would give a potential mate the opportunity to be creative in the moments when I can’t go out. However, that never, ever happens… instead they run away because it is easier.

Something else that complicates this is if I get an acute illness. We all know that acute illness complicates chronic illness and can send things on a whirlwind. Recently, I contracted pneumonia, which put my autoimmune disease, asthma and heart condition into a bad flare. As soon as I got the pneumonia cleared up, I got a double sinus infection, double ear infection, pharyngitis and kidney infection, which of course the stress on my body from that infection kept me in a flare. I was extra fatigued and in more pain. My migraines also kicked up, more than likely from stress and the fact that while all of this was going on it was 100+ degrees out… not the best environment for someone like me who is a chronic illness sufferer. And just when I thought I had gotten all the infection out and my body was returning to its normal, I started feeling really weird again and sick. I ended up at the ER for a 3rd time in a month. I wasn’t moving air very well, my heart was acting up and I just felt bad. My labs came back all over the place, my kidneys were working way too hard to keep up with everything and I had a lot of inflammation in my lungs, as well as the lining of my ribcage. I had quite a lengthy stay at the ER getting mass fluids pushed to try to help my kidneys, have infusions to reduce inflammation and also doing breathing treatments to open my lungs up. I also was coughing so much I dislocated a rib and strained some chest muscles, so I had to be watched closely. I was finally stable enough to go home  after about 6 hours.

I followed up with my primary care doctor after this latest episode and she was very concerned. I didn’t look or sound too good, so she ordered me on bedrest for a week and to do my breathing treatments every 4 hours religiously. So I mentioned all of this to a potential gentleman suitor and at first he was all “awe hun I am so sorry. Rest up and I will check on you later.” Fast forward several days we were talking and he asks if I have any exciting plans for the weekend and told him no, I am still on bedrest. His response was “still? I thought you would be over everything by now.” I couldn’t even answer right away. I actually had to think and pray about my response. I ultimately told him that one day of bed rest doesn’t fix everything and I was really bad off this time, so it is going to take me a while to recover. Also, I am by myself so I am not truly on bed rest because I have to keep getting up in order to fix myself food or refresh my drinks. Now, if you would like to come keep me company and help me stay in bed, I would appreciate it. I may heal faster. He had no response after that. Unfortunately this is a common conversation and many of my potential relationships end after conversations like this because that is when most really realize what all I deal with and that my life really is complicated and that  this is not for the faint at heart. I am not saying being chronically ill makes a needier partner. If anything, it makes me more independent because I have learned to do for myself and by myself, as well as value and cherish the little things in life. It also makes me loyal, because I have not the strength nor the energy to deal with foolishness and since I do spend so much time at home or on bedrest, it allows me to be attentive to that person and really be dedicated. However, many do not see it that way. All they can see is are diagnoses or what I am not able to do.  They don’t see the opportunity to get creative with things to accommodate my flare days or restrictions.

Since I have had many epic fails in dating, in order to not waste my time or anyone else’s I always try to be forthcoming with my conditions and be detailed so they can choose if it is something they can handle or not. I also tell them I am not looking for them to be the caregiver off the bat or be my knight in shining armor, but I am doing it so you know what you are getting. If while we are getting to know each other and you feel compelled to come to an appointment, come keep me company while I am on bedrest, bring me food or any of these things that seem caring and supportive, that is on you, especially in the beginning. I don’t have the expectation that you would do these things from the jump, especially because it takes time to build trust and respect on both ends. Now, I will say that being kind and practicing acts of service is amazing to me because that is my primary love language, but as I said before, I would expect this over time.

The hard part with all of this is finding someone who will accept this painful ( literally painful) side of you that is innately part of your being, but also who will still respect you as a person and support you when you need it. I also need someone who doesn’t need to be raised, more or less because I have enough within myself to take care of that raising a grown man would only add stress to me, versus alleviating my stress.

I know that the perfect man who understands my situation is out there. I also know that being patient with myself and the process is key in making it through this journey. Until then, I will be thankful for my current support system and hope that maybe one of them will lead me to that right person!

[demonicdiligence]

Auntie’s Request

The Boutique was always such a surreal place to Aamon. His parents dealt in matters that many might find trifling for demonkin - lawyering and owning a flowershop. In many ways, this shop full of magical artifacts and enchantment services was, in his family, his one strong tie to the arcane. Within were a myriad of trinkets to ward off ill fortune or illness, traditional spells to grant one temporary intelligence or strength, and many such other specialized spells that were far too specific to find in most run-of-the-mill, chain stores. But the most unique element of all was Auntie - purveyor and Enchantress extraordinaire.

The bells that announced the entrance door swinging open raised her studious gaze from her current job. Behind the counter she fiddled with equipment which almost seemed surgical, guiding ink into a divot she had grooved out in a piece of sheet metal - a peculiar request from a peculiar customer, which she immediately put on hold as she noticed who had walked in.

“Aamon. How nice of you to visit. Tea?”

He nodded, his head half bowed as he managed a response.

“Sure.”

The boy was always so full of life. Strange to see him like this. She could tell something was amiss, and that he came here for a reason other than idle chit-chat.

“What’s on your mind?”

The woman asked as she swung around from the corner in the back where she kept her kettle - for employees, friends, and family only. The purebreed Succubus stood almost as tall as Aamon, and a fair bit thinner, yet she exuded an air of superiority around her. Not boastfulness, nor pride, nor even power -- superiority. Her hair and flowing dress were straight and angled clearly. Her silhouette was sharp, but yet many of her features contrasted this ; full lips, soft eyes, and perfectly maintained nails made her appear as many other Succubi did. And yet the way she dressed and kept herself made one feel like they were in the presence of a Baroness, rather than a mere enchantress.

A young man like Aamon could never lie to her. No one could lie to her. Auntie always knew best. He spilled his guts to her. About Chevali, the Enyians, the events of the last few months, and more. Soft lips soured and thin lines around her cheeks tugged her features downwards. It was a look she rarely afforded to give to anyone. Auntie oft times would kick those who didn’t understand her nor her wares out of her shop with simple aloof disdain. 

But this? At this she was furious. And her quiet, measured anger only grew as Aamon explained further.

“Let me see if I have this straight, buttercup.”

She began, and Aamon’s gaze shot to the floor. He knew how it sounded.

“This sorry excuse for a woman expressed no regret when you put your own hand in front of the man she had tried to stab - and even went so far as to break your ribs for the trouble. Why you would lie to us and the nice doctors about how that happened, I’ll never know.” 

Aamon was about to consider speaking up, but she paced back towards him and raised one perfectly manicured nail - painted a sterling combination of white and black.

“Then not only does it turn out she’s crazy, but she’s also possessed and the creature that possessed her doesn’t care in the slightest that she lost her mind and went out for blood - and doesn’t bother to lift. a. finger. to stop her...”

She prodded her finger against his chest. He shrunk down even further.

“...Then when you go to try and help, her father nearly chokes you too! And Aamon, after all this... you want me to craft a charm to protect you from her? To encourage this... suicidal behavior of yours? Not even to mention the time she tried to seduce your father with you, and Lilith, right there.”

It all sounded so awful out loud. Something they were both aware of. Raising her hand, cupping his chin to force him to look at her, Auntie expounded.

“The question was not rhetorical, Aamon.”

“Yes. I need you to help me.”

He was serious. So terribly stupid in this moment, but serious. She removed her hand from his chin, moving to rub her temples as she sauntered about her shop - now locked up for the night.

“Auntie... if you don’t help me, I don’t think I’ll be able to save her. And if that... thing is still there, sapping energy from her, who knows how many p--”

“Do not make this about the ‘greater good’ young man.”

His lips pressed together. 

“Why shouldn’t I?”

Her response was swift, but her tone was lowered.

“Aamon. Your abilities... you can go to any random world. Hell, that’s how you ended up in Chevali’s in the first place. If you were to roll the dice and visit, I don’t know, one-hundred new worlds tomorrow, how many of them would have something just as awful happening? Fifty? Sixty? Seventy, even? And think about the billions of worlds there are...”

Aamon shifted his weight to his back leg, quirking a brow. His expression read clearly ‘your point?’

“...If you spend your life thinking that... you have these powers and so you have to use them to help the people who would otherwise never get help, you will be helping people you don’t even know for the rest of eternity. And the track record for the thanks you’ll get? It’s not looking good so far.”

Regardless of whether or not he wanted to admit it, she had a point.

“Just... this once then. I just want your help this once. And then I promise... never again.”

She walked away, hands in front of her and fingers looping together, clearly infuriated.

“Never again? Is that what you told yourself the first time she hit you?”

That cut deep. Aamon felt a wound go down his chest. She was completely and utterly right in so many ways, but still, he couldn’t find it in himself to abandon Chevali. Not after all this.

“...What do you want out of me?”

Came his reply, words somewhat choked up, but his question genuine. Turning to face him, seeing how clearly distraught he was, she took some pity on him. Sighing, and shaking her head, she lowered herself to her desk. It was impossible for him to stay standing, and he moved to sit down across from her.

She sat there, contemplating, gaze shuffling across the various objects and tools in front of her. It seems she had come to the decision to make the enchantment the demon desired. And to him, it seemed like she was now deciding on the how.

“I will do it, but I have a single request.”

Came Auntie’s eventual answer. Swiveling in her chair, facing Aamon, she spoke.

“This charm I will make will protect you. It will make whoever attempts to hurt you have a very tough time of doing so... redirecting their attacks, to put it simply. But it will also have a secondary function.”

Aamon leaned in, brow quirked. She leaned across her table, gaze leveled at him as she explained.

“If the charm goes off too many times in a short amount of time, or if you get so much as a cut longer than a few inches, the secondary charm I’m making will open up a rift to wherever I am.”

Raising herself in her seat, tone becoming dark, she tapped her forefinger against the desk in rhythm with her spoke world.

“And whoever hurt you? I will dislocate their shoulder, break their arm, crack their wrist, shatter every bone in their hand into cracker-crumb pieces, and then shove it so far up their ass they’ll be spitting out fingers for months. And if it’s Chevali, you will stop your escapades to her realm.”

After her measured but wickedly malevolent outburst, she lowered herself in her seat again - she was back on eye level with her nephew.

“Do we have a deal?”

She asked. Aamon was frightened. He understood now why so many rumors about her ties to the eighth circle floated around - and times like now made him believe that his Aunt’s past was buried and secret for a reason. But, she was the best in the business, so he didn’t have many other options...

Her hand was extended - skilled, smooth, and dangerous. Aamon met it with his own clawed digits, and she shook his palm and soul to the core.

“I know people do stupid things for love, buttercup. And as much of a bitch as she sounds, you clearly have feelings for her. I’m fairly confident you’ll regret this some day... but, I will hope that you’ll be happy, in the end. No matter how this plays out.”

Now while Aamon was protected from Chevali, who knew how long the mystic would be protected from a Demoness on a warpath?

...

Auntie knew how long. Because Auntie knows best.

[finiarels]

The Beat of Hear Heart - Part 4

End of the year’s holiday special. The story consists of 5 parts + 1 epilogue.

Update every Wednesday and Sunday

Main Pairing: Shiraishi Mai X Wakatsuki Yumi

[read on JPH!P]

“Are you sure that you don’t want to go home?” Hashimoto Nanami asked her for like the 5th time in the last 2 hours. “I told you before, didn’t I? I want to stay here. I mean what difference my home could make? I will still pretty much be bedridden, even worse, both Momoko and Erika will be worrying about me 24/7 instead of studying for their upcoming exam.” “Well that’s kind of given when their sister dislocated her shoulders and cracked two ribs from a ski-accident,” Hashimoto snapped. “Nanamin, you become such a meanie when worried.” Hashimoto squints her eyes in judgment, “and you- Shii-chan, is irritably annoying when someone is worried about you.” “Isn’t that two words have the same meaning? Like, irritable and annoying?” “Please don’t avert the conversation from the main topic. You need to tell your family.” Shiraishi sighed softly, wincing a bit from the pain that it caused to her chest, “Fine, I will call my mother tonight, just after her working hours is over. But no words to either of my sisters, I want them to be able to face exams without any worries.” Hashimoto looks at her for a moment, before deciding that would be enough for her with a nod. Gently she climbs up the bed and lay down next to the girl. Inspecting some cut and bruise that decorates the girl arm, shoulder, and face. Silently grateful that with the girl’s body hidden beneath a blanket, she couldn’t see the damage much further. Because seeing the girl like this is like a grim reminder of Hashimoto carelessness as her best friend. “I should have been there. With you.” “There was nothing you could have done even if you are there. It was totally my fault as I was being reckless. You are right about me being ridiculous.” Shiraishi expression soften, turning her head to the side so she could see the girl beside her and continue her statement, “also, I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you about Wakatsuki earlier.” “How was it? I mean, whatever it is that you want from her, did you get it?” Shiraishi chuckled, her hand raised to her chest as if to shoo the pain away, “I don’t think so. To be honest, I don’t even understand what is it that I truly want from her. But whatever it is, I already ruined it.” “Do you want to talk about it?” Shiraishi raised her eyebrows, “and I thought you find my love life boring.” “That’s because you usually just explain how good someone on the bed in detail. I guess this one is pretty different, isn’t it?” Hashimoto looked away for a second. “Well you can always talk to shrink about it, but if you feel like a free and amateur talk, I’m here.” “How generous,” Shiraishi smiled, collecting her thoughts for a moment before continuing, “I was wrong about her. I wrongly convinced myself that she is someone else. Like, she supposed to act like Reika just because of the heart beating in her body. But turns out they are really different. I know this, yet I still can’t help myself.” “I can see that,” Hashimoto commented. “I mean if it were Reika-san, you’d probably gotten a yelled at and most likely earnt a slap on the face after rolling down the hill.” Shiraishi smiled, appreciating the girl’s attempt at lifting up her mood. “And you’d probably praise her for that.” “What can I say, the two of us aware how ridiculous you are.” “Of course,” Shiraishi rolled her eyes, her expression turns back to serious shortly after that. “It’s not like I will ever do something like that if Reika is still here with me.” “That’s where you are wrong. I remember Reika-san telling me the story of how you fell down the tree from trying to bring a fallen pigeon back to the nest. When you were just a mere supervisor, you also covered for your intern blunder, saving them from getting fired right away. Heck, you even took the blame for me when we got caught in an underage driving. You are selfless and to make it even worse you don’t even acknowledge that. That’s why Reika-san yelled at you a lot, this side of you is terrifying.” “I bet she would be more terrified if she knows what would happen in the future.” “Yes, of course, she would be terrified. You were a second away from death back then.” Shiraishi furrowed her eyebrows, “she is dead because of me! Because I dragged her into that fucking night surfing. Because I was too proud of myself and stupid. I was not even that good of a swimmer to help myself from drowning and get swept by the current once my board is broken.” “What else is she supposed to do, then? Just watch as the wave took you? Say Maiyan, if you were in her shoes, if it was her who is drowning instead of you, would you have done the same?” Hashimoto sat up, her eyebrows furrowed in frustration. “That’s-“ “What?! Not the point? How come you blame her for wanting to save someone? Someone that she loves. Don’t be a hypocrite, look at yourself! Covered in bandages just because of that urge to save someone that you don’t even fucking know.” Shiraishi gritted her teeth, realising that her best friend is right. Hashimoto exhaled, her shoulder slumped a bit to relax her tense muscles, “Look, I’m not trying to accuse you of anything. But I hope you can stop blaming yourself for what happened to Reika-san. That was her choice, I’m sure she would want you to understand.” After everything that she has been through, Shiraishi knows that out of all the people, she should be the one that understands that feelings the most. Hence, finally, she let the matter go by taking a deep breath and nodded, “Okay.” “Good,” Hashimoto smiled. “Now that we got that one out of our way, do you want to hug me till you feel better?” Shiraishi laughed, “I think you need that hug more than I do. But come here.” Hashimoto observed the girl as she tried to sit up without putting unnecessary pressure on one of the shoulder and ribs. When Shiraishi finally sits comfortably, Hashimoto spread her arms apart, leaning forward so the girl could lift her healthy arm and placed it on her back. The position was really awkward, with Hashimoto trying her best to do it without doing her any harm so she could only rest her fingers on the girl’s waist. “Okay, this is probably the best I could do if I don’t want to get those ribs cracked for the second time of the day. I apologize for suggesting this without considering the situation you’re in.” Shiraishi laughed again. “Stop making me laugh, my ribs are hurting whenever I do it.” “I don’t care, I prefer to see you laughing than frowning.” “If I don’t know you any better I would have thought that you are hitting on me.” Hashimoto scoffed, “oh please, you are cute but too suicidal for my liking.” “That kind of break my heart, Hashimoto-san~” she dramatically said, punching the girl weakly on the shoulder. Hashimoto gave her a wink before finally straighten her sitting position, breaking their prolonged semi-hug at last. “Wait, is that how you seduce girls? Because if it is, I will take my leave because the idea is grossing me out.” Shiraishi squinted her eyes, “I have grown better from using that kind of lowly trick to flirt.” “If what you mean by ‘grown better’ is pretending to be suck at ski-ing so you could get the girl to help you when you fall multiple times then I am utterly disappointed.” “Now you’re being a meanie again. I can’t believe your girlfriend could stand you. Heck, I am even surprised that we could stay friends after all this time,” Shiraishi joked. “Isn’t the reason we are staying friends because you need a discount on my hotels and resorts?” “Oh my God that’s totally true,” she chuckled, playing along with the nonsense. “But you know, your amateur plus free shrink service might have played a part in it too. Not to mention the hug till better bonus.” “For a moment there, I was really tempted to hug you so hard that more of your ribs will crack.” 

~To Be Continued~