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creativeashproductions · 3 years

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Change of Scenery // Evan Buckley

IN WHICH: Captain Bobby Nash has kept a secret from his friends, his wife and his step children since 2015 when he came to LA. Bobby’s eldest and only surviving child comes to LA to reconcile and make amends all the while she catches the eye of a certain blue eyed firefighter.

Warnings: Swearing, death/familial loss, pregnancy, blood, angst, injuries/medical emergency, and fluff

Words: 8k

A/N: Back at it with another 9-1-1 fic. Hope you enjoy, and I may just have to do another crossover with 9-1-1 and Julie and the Phantoms.

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Masterlist

There are moments in our lives that define us, whether it can be known as a positive or negative, but the outcome is always the same. A six-letter word that strikes fear and excitement into the souls of humans is change. The fear can be for ourselves or as a result of a child, a sibling, or a parent branching out on their own. Unfortunately, you had gone through a harsh and cruel experience on a cold winter night in the city you grew up in.

A typical Thursday filled with classes at the college you attended in Minnesota on a scholarship, nothing out of the ordinary. The plan had been to drive to your parents’ apartment to catch up with them for the weekend. Saturday morning was already reserved for a girls day with your little sister Brook and your mom. In the afternoon, you’d promised to take your brother Bobby to the ball diamond.

Your bag was packed, the plan to drive straight from class to St. Paul the following day to arrive in the daylight. Your dad struggled with worry when it came to you driving in the dark and especially in winter with icy roads.

“Y/N!” Dottie screeched from the living room of the four-bedroom dormitory. The pretty and curvy brunette had been the first friend you made in college.

Typically Dottie was on the quieter side, so when she screamed, you practically sprinted to the girl.

“Where’s the fire?” You demanded with a smirk at the reference to a topic that was a constant in your family.

The fire drills your father conducted every four months for an exit plan in case of a fire and general information to save yourselves. He had also trained you to remember fire hazards and how to call dispatch with clear information if that time ever came. It never did and hopefully never would.

“The Lakeview Apartments in St. Paul.” Dottie’s dark brown eyes spoke only of pity and concern. The five foot ten roommate literally caught you as you tumbled into her arms with a loud grief-stricken scream.

You were forever indebted to the brunette for the plans she sacrificed to drive you back to St. Paul. There was absolutely no chance Dottie would allow you to both drive and be alone with no news. The media hadn’t released the names of the 148 deaths the fire relentlessly tore from the land of the living.

“I want to prepare you for what you’ll see. Your mother suffered severe third-degree burns over the majority of her body.” The kind nurse, also one of your friend’s parent, explained as she guided you to the Burn Center in the Regions Hospital, “I don’t want to lie and tell you she’ll be fine. You’re an adult Y/N. You deserve the truth and not be coddled.”

“Is she gonna survive?” You quietly asked, “Has she woken up since she was brought in?”

“The doctor placed her on a high dosage of morphine for the pain. Your father hasn’t left her side.” Lucinda informed you with sympathy written as over her face, The hazel eyes unable to adequately meet yours.

“I’ll check on her, then could you take me to the rooms my siblings are in?” You asked, completely unaware Brook and Bobby had been DOA at the hospital.

Your father hadn’t answered the text messages or the voicemails you had left on his phone—radio silent. You couldn’t be mad when he was with your mom, but a text would have been nice.

“This is where your mother is staying for the unforeseeable future. If you need anything, you can call me.” Lucinda softly replied before turning her heel to head back to the Burn Centre’s front desk.

It was horrific walking into a room with no idea if the occupant who had raised you would survive. The confident, gorgeous mother you had for the past nineteen years was unfamiliar to you, the extensive gauze covering nearly every inch of her body. You almost couldn’t even recognize the man sitting in the chair with his hands wrapped.

“Dad? What happened?” You questioned the grieving man. The only person left in your family as you would soon come to know.

“Y/N?” Bobby gasped, pushing himself to his feet, staring at his only living child. The guilt ate at him just staring at you with those light brown eyes, “Oh, sweetheart.”

Your dad crossed the room in a few steps. The scent of smoke was still clinging to every part of him, but it was fine. Your dad was okay, minus the wounds on his hands. You’d always been closer with your father than your mother.

“Dad, what happened?” You quietly asked the ashamed firefighter that had to reconcile his feelings on the fire and his career—that struggle ending up pushing you away when he really just wanted you as close as possible.

“The building caught on fire after an ember from a heater lit a blanket on fire,” Bobby informed you with his eyes pinned on his wife. Bobby knew the chances of Marcy surviving were incredibly low, and he had to tell you that.

Bobby only knew the details passed on from a firefighter who pitied the man who’d lost most of his family.

“Is Mom gonna be okay?” You questioned, and the said injured woman in the bed weakly responded.

“Baby?” Marcy quietly questioned from her absolutely still position on the hospital bed, “Uh, Bobby.”

You left your father’s side to be as close to your mom as possible, with the clear plastic separating you for her safety. Your heart shattered at the sheer exhaustion in her pretty blue eyes.

“Hi, Mom.” You shakily spoke with one hand lightly pressed against the plastic divider. You didn’t even notice when your dad stepped up too.

“Marcy?” Bobby called out from right beside you, just as torn up, but Bobby carried extra weight on his shoulders, “We’re right here, Marcy. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

The muffled grunt of pain, your mom’s attempt to save you from grief, Marcy let out as she turned her head to look at you. You knew deep in your gut that this was the time place you would see your mom alive. And by the look in her eyes, she knew too.

“The...kids…?” Your mom’s breathing became more erratic as she questioned the man she viewed as her hero. The man she believed had saved her and their youngest children, “Where...are they?”

“The kids are fine.” The way your father said it and the tears led to the knowledge once kept from you.

“No.” You whispered, seeing the total grief written clear on his face. The pain meds and agony kept your mom from knowing the truth.

“They’re safe.”

“I knew you’d come and save us.” Your mom breathed as her eyes started hiding the pretty blue you’d now only see in pictures. In your dreams, until even those faded as father time cruelly pulled you along.

Then your worst nightmare happened. You watched as the woman you looked up to flatlined with the thought of her children safe. You’d always know she’d held on just long enough to find out the state of her children. You could only hope she’d forgive your father for lying to her as she died.

“Mom!” You screamed, fighting the arms of an orderly restraining you. You barely noticed the resistance to your frantic attempts.

One minute you were staring at a team unsuccessfully trying to revive your long-gone mother, then you were in a hotel room. The atmosphere tense and quiet between father and daughter, with the ghost of your dead family to keep you both company. You could hear Brook gagging every time you’d kissed your now ex. You could see Bobby toddling after you years ago.

At least you had your father—a father whose guilt festered until he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“It was my fault.” He murmured, staring at the barely eaten burger that tasted solely just cardboard. He couldn’t bear to look at your face, “I didn’t mean to leave it on.”

Your head snapped to stare at him in disbelief, “What do you mean you didn’t mean to leave it on?”

“I-I went to the roof to sleep after your mom kicked me out. I didn’t have my keys to the apartment I had below ours.” Bobby began spilling the lies he’d told to you about his addictions. Of the apartment, you’d had no clue was even in his possessions.

The pain of losing your family tore into you, “You took my mom away from me. I’ll never get to share my wedding day with her. Shopping for a dress and gossiping about boys. I’ll never be able to wipe Brook’s tears during her first heartbreak.”

Each word broke Bobby more and more.

“You stole my future. You’re selfish, ungrateful and utterly pathetic. You cost so many people so much, all because you sought out your next high.” You spat, glaring at someone you’d never expected to hurt you. You didn’t notice your hands grabbing your possessions nor opening the hotel room door, “You couldn’t even properly try to get clean.”

“Y/N-”

“Get your shit together before you kill anyone else. I never want to see you again.” You sobbed with regret already festering in your body, but pride held you back from apologizing.

Upon your return to your dorm with Dottie by your side, you immediately began the process to enter an exchange program. Within a month, your feet entered Sydney Airport. You didn’t return to America for several years.

You took a job as a casual lifeguard on Bondi Beach, met Lucas in a meet-cute situation at the grocery store. You graduated college and found a job as a paramedic as you began becoming a flight paramedic. In 2020 Lucas and you discovered you’d be bringing in a little baby into the world.

Learning about your little Cashew growing safe in your womb fanned the flame of desire to reconcile. Ultimately the pride kept pushing the urge to apologize for the cruel words you told your father further away. You naively believed you had all the time in the world.

Remember the six-letter scary word? If losing your mom, siblings, and father was a devastating blow, losing Lucas was nearly tied. Your little Cashew lost their father before they even got to meet him. That was push enough to pack up your home and fly back to America with your father’s new address as soon as you could.

In the fallout of the apartment fire, your father relocated from Minnesota to Los Angeles.

Los Angeles, 2020

As soon as you’d found the nicest but cheapest hotel to stay in until you found a place, you walked the streets of LA. The first order of business of approaching your father at his workplace as you had no personal address. Residing still in Minnesota, Deputy Chief Evans had only given you the address of Bobby’s work.

You could only hope Bobby wouldn’t turn you away. That he was willing to bridge the gap, you’d widened over the years. That he could forgive the silence to each email, he sent when you changed numbers.

“We should go out to dinner.” The female voice was what brought you back to the present time. The woman was beautiful with her buzzed head and clear skin.

Right by her side was a dark-haired male of Asian ethnicity with a bag thrown over his shoulder, “If you’re paying, you bet I’ll be there.”

The two continued to converse in their own world until the man had to literally dodge you when they finally noticed you.

“Does Chief Bobby Nash work here?” You inquired, having no desire to enter small talk when the baby was sitting on your bladder again. You nearly retched when the man stared down at your swollen midsection, shocked, “It’s not his baby.”

Hen caught the evident disgust on your face, “He’s in his office. I’ll guide you there…”

“Y/N.” You supplied the firefighter. Hen smiled in response, “And your name is…”

“Henrietta Wilson, but you can call me Hen. That was Howard Han. He goes by Chimney, and I’ve been sworn to secrecy on the name.” Hen chuckled in her steps to the closed door of the fire chief. Hen swiftly knocked on the door to give Bobby a heads up.

“Come in!” Bobby called from his pile of paperwork he had pushed and waited to work on. It had slipped as the date came closer. Your twenty-seventh birthday, the seventh one since he last saw you.

“Cap, a woman is asking for you,” Hen told her friend and boss. It’s a good thing you didn’t choose to surprise your father because Hen was shorted, and your bump made manoeuvring around tricky.

“What can I do…” Bobby trailed off when he saw the girl waiting to talk to him. The pen in his hand dropped to the table in shock.

Hen glanced between the two equally taken aback individuals, “Am I missing something here?”

“Hey, dad.” You whispered to the man who’d been dreaming of this moment since the minute you left. He’d searched for you at your previous college and nearly made a missing person report.

“Dad?” Hen couldn’t pick her jaw up from the floor if she even wanted to because this was juicy information. Sure, Bobby had caved into telling his team, his family that he’d lost his wife and two children in a fire.

He rarely talked about his life before the 118, but he’d never mentioned having a surviving daughter. Not in the handful of times he’d talked about the tragedy, nor did he have any objects or photos of you.

“You’re really here?” Bobby lightly chuckled with a twinkle in his eye. Hen had only seen a handful of times. All of them had Athena in the scene, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” You beamed, stepping closer to the man you’d missed dearly, “I’m so sorry for the way I left. What I said was cruel and untrue. You aren’t selfish, and I can’t blame you for something you couldn’t control.”

Bobby grinned. He’d stepped around his desk only to halt when he took in an undeniable development—the baby bump you carried.

“Is-”

“I’m pregnant. Six months along with a baby girl.” You laughed to the apparent disbelief in your father’s light brown eyes. His gaze continued to shift between the bump and your e/c eyes.

“Wow. Sorry, this is...wow.”

“She’s one of the reasons I wanted to come back. To fix our relationship because I want her to know her grandpa. You’re the only grandparent Poppy will know.” Bobby was quick to tug you into his arms as soon as the first tear dropped down your cheek.

There was so much you wanted to tell your father, but that overwhelming grief rose higher. You’d left Australia where Lucas laid in a plot in a cemetery. You left the friends you’d found in the city. Left the lifeguard job you’d come to love.

“Where are you and your partner staying?”

“He...uh...Lucas passed away recently.”

The arms holding you tightened in response to your confession, “Oh sweetheart.”

“I didn’t know where else to go. I can’t stay in the home we bought. Not the place he died when I couldn’t save him.”

“I don’t know what happened, but it wasn’-”

“Don’t coddle me. I was...am a paramedic. A flight paramedic, to be specific, so I know that my hesitation could be the reason he died.”

Your career took the father by complete and utter surprise because you’d always planned on a different job. Before the fire that claimed so many lives, you’d never entertained a career in the emergency field.

“We have a lot to catch up on. First, you need to know that I’ll always love your mother no matter what, but you need to know. I met someone when I first moved here, and we were friends at first. She divorced her husband. We started dating...sweetheart, I remarried.”

A wave of emotions flared in your chest, from betrayal to sadness and ultimately happiness. Having lost your first love, you understood and knew if love came around for you, you wouldn’t ignore it. Lucas wouldn’t want that.

“I can’t wait to meet her.”

Re-entering into Bobby’s new life was a difficult adjustment for everyone included. Tension had risen between Athena and Bobby for a brief period. Athena hadn’t even been aware of your existence, but she could fault Bobby. Athena had even told her first husband about her late fiance Emmett when they were still together.

It was difficult for you with the new addition of two step-siblings in the same birth order as Brook and Bobby had been. The Grant siblings had welcomed you into the family without any reservations.

“Did you ever get to fly the chopper?” Harry asked as he scrubbed the dirty dish from the Sunday family dinner.

It was the first dinner that had no awkward tension since you arrived back in the country. Athena had taken a bit to warm up, but it was nothing personal. She’d actually been the one to find you you’d been staying at a hotel. Mama Athena did not like her pregnant step-daughter living at a hotel. She’d actually stormed your room with Hen and Karen as back up to pack your room and leave for the Grant-Nash house.

“No. I had to help keep the patients alive. If I’m telling the truth...sometimes I didn’t even notice I was in the air.” You whispered to your stepbrother. He was just invested in your career as he had been when Bobby first entered their lives.

“That is so cool!” Harry enthused with soap suds splashing your thin knitted sweater. Harry’s mouth formed an ‘o’ when you flicked water onto his face in retaliation.

“Do you know Bondi Beach in Australia?” You inquired the youth with the chore of dishes completed.

“Yeah! There’s a tv show called Bondi Rescue! I watch the clips on YouTube!” Harry exclaimed, hot on your heels to the couch. Out of May and Harry, he followed you around with questions about your life in Australia.

“I was a casual lifeguard. I’m not featured on that show, but I would get called in when a lifeguard was needed. It paired well with my job as a flight paramedic.” You half-smiled, remembering the Bondi lifeguards who had welcomed you into the family. You became one of them when they started pranking you.

“Did you ever see a shark-”

“Harry, go brush your teeth. Leave Y/N alone.” Athena informed her youngest from the open patio doors. Your father, Athena and May had been outside as soon as the table had been cleared.

“But-”

“Harry,” Athena warned the youngest Grant. Harry didn’t attempt to argue with his stern mother; all he did was hug you quickly. You watched the young boy disappear into the hallway.

“He reminds you of your little brother?” Athena questioned. In your time of reminiscing, the older woman had settled in Harry’s previous position.

“A little.” You whispered, “Thank you for welcoming me into the family. For making my dad happy.”

“You know I may have some baby clothes put away if you’d like to use them?” Athena offered with that smile that made you feel at home. Athena was far different from your late mother, with her presence commanding respect and intelligence. Your mom was similar, but I suppose it could be described as a softer touch.

“Anyway, saving a penny is appreciated. I have a question for you also.” You hesitantly started with a bundle of nerves deep in your belly. Athena turned to give you her full attention.

“Well? Out with it.” Athena pushed, but she had a slight feeling of what you were about to ask her.

“My mom was one the strongest women I know. It hurts that my baby won’t get to experience her love and guidance, and you can say no. We’ve only known each other a short time, but would you consider...maybe being a grandma to my baby?”

Giddy was the feeling Athena developed along with the laughing smile that only came from happiness. The woman could only nod her head in response to your hesitant question. To Athena’s knowledge but not yours, Bobby was softly smiling, watching his formerly estranged daughter getting along with your stepmom.

“Oh!” You gasped as your baby kicked hard enough for her foot imprint to be seen through your knitted sweater.

Bobby was by your side in concern the second he heard your startled sound, but Athena wasn’t that concerned. Athena remembered having the same reaction.

“Are you okay?” Bobby frantically questioned. He faltered when the woman shared a belly-deep laugh at the sheer fear written in the seasoned firefighter’s eyes.

“Poppy was kicking.” You chuckled as your father’s shoulders dropped in relief, “Here.”

Your nimble fingers clasped around your father’s wrist to bring his palm to the spot Poppy was kicking. A certain lightness flooded your entire body, being capable of sharing this experience with Bobby. Watching tears well up in the grandpa to be’s brown eyes.

“Whoa.” Bobby breathlessly spoke as Poppy kicked against his palm. The feeling building in his was exhilarating with the small amount of grief mixed in, “I remember when your mom was pregnant with you. We didn’t know if we were having a girl or boy, but she was adamant you would be a kickboxer. So active.”

Athena watched as the relationship between father and daughter started healing directly in front of her eyes. The Sergeant was about to give you two some privacy when you caught her hand in your free one.

“Here.” You informed the older woman shifting to place her hand where your father’s hand had previously been. Your e/c eyes sought the wonder-filled different shades of brown eyes the couple had.

“You should get some sleep,” Athena spoke, staring at her hand resting on your bump. Her dark chocolate brown rising to find your gaze, “You won’t be getting a lot once she arrives.”

Bobby and Athena watched as you turned the corner to the spare room Athena’s parents used when they visited. For the time being, you’ve moved into the room, and the Grant-Nash house hoped you would stay. May had always wanted a sister, and Harry loved all the stories you told about Australia.

“You know, at some point, you’ll have to talk to her.”

“I just was-’

“-without anyone else being the buffer. Bobby, both your lives is evidence enough that some things are too trivial to stress over.” Athena pinned her stern gaze on her husband. The same husband is actively trying to avoid her penetrating gaze.

“What I did-’

“Is in the past, Bobby. You have a second chance with that wonderful woman in that bedroom and our grandchild. Now, are you sure that having the party at the firehouse is okay?”

A hand supported the base of your back where an ache tended to stay for most of the day. That ache wasn’t the worst symptom of your pregnancy. You had heartburn constantly that tied with unfortunate constipation that had thankfully lessened. Your purse always had a cardigan for the hot flashes as well.

“Perfect! May has my car, and Bobby needed that.” Athena beamed from the open bay of the 118. One of the firefighters, Eddie, if you recalled, snagged your purse and the specific ingredient for a recipe.

“You could have borrowed Bobby’s-”

“His vehicle is in the shop Buck.” Athena interrupted the only member of the 118 you had let to officially meet.

Now there were two suspects of the sudden shortness of breath you started experiencing. It could be Poppy in the limited space in your body or the handsome firefighter. Buck had to be hands down none of the most attractive men you’d ever encountered. His dark blonde hair had minimal height, but the soft waves made your fingers itch to feel it. His ocean blue eyes crinkled at the corners with mirth.

“Ah, so you’re flesh and blood of Cap?” Buck questioned from in front of you. His blue eyes centred solely on you, with half a mind thanking himself that he could navigate the station blindfolded in the dark.

“For the last twenty-seven years, I have been.” You retorted, stopping at the edge of the stairs to the apparatus. Your keen sense of smell catching one of your favourite meals your father had dug up from the recipes he hadn’t used in years.

A zing of electricity trailed off your arm when a calloused palm met yours. Your e/c eyes followed the path of tan skin until it reached the shirt sleeve of Buck’s t-shirt. The shirt emblazoned on the chest with the department’s insignia. The man in the casual uniform guided you safely up the stairs with his hand on your back.

The pressure of Buck’s hand on your aching back muscle nearly brought what would be an embarrassing moan from your lips. Thankfully a gasp of surprise fell out instead at the banner hanging with other decorations.

“What?” You choked, cupping your hands to your face. Pure unadulterated shock and affection flooded every inch of you.

The entire 118 squad intermixed with their loved ones surrounded the open area with grins. On a table behind everyone was many wrapped gifts. But the cake was the most impressive.

A large rectangular cake in the realistic shape of a fire engine parked in front of a fire hydrant with a fondant hose going to the truck. On top of the fire truck was the turnout boots next to the matching helmet, the 118 proudly on it. You adored the turnout coat draping off the top to hang off the side.

“If you look at the helmet, it says Poppy.” Buck enthused, guiding you even closer to catch the immaculate cake, “It has to be the best cake we’ve gotten from them.”

“Hey, my rebar head cake was phenomenal!” Chimney called with a belying grin on his face. His hand encased by a brunette woman about his height with her heels on.

“It’s a long story.” Buck offered as soon as you gave him a weird questioning look, “Let me introduce you to everyone!”

For the next five minutes, you spend it by meeting the family of 118, including Eddie’s completely adorable son. Christopher was happy to sit next to you as soon as Harry had found you. Slowly the others came closer to hear the stories.

“What’re the most common injuries on the beach?” Denny, Hen and Karen’s ten-year-old son questioned.

“Bluebottle Jellyfish stings. On one day, we had hundreds of people come to the tower for stings, and the treatment for the minor ones is stingose spray and ice.”

“My question is how a girl from Minnesota is a lifeguard in Australia. Especially on Sydney’s most dangerous beach.” Chimney inserted, waving his bottle of pop at you, his eyes kept moving towards the wine Maddie brought.

Unfortunately, the 118 wouldn’t be celebrating with the wine until their shifts ended in a few short hours. It was a damn miracle they hadn’t been called out yet.

“This former Minnesotan spent summers at my best friend’s parents’ place in Cali as a lifeguard. Also, Bondi is not the most dangerous beach in Sydney. That’s Tamarama.” You pointed towards the man who raised his hands in surrender.

“Have you ever seen a dead body?” Harry asked, bringing a sobering silence in the question’s wake.

Your body language changed as soon as he asked, “Unfortunately, I’ve seen death as a paramedic and as a lifeguard.”

“You’re a paramedic? I thought you were just a lifeguard?” Buck asked, interested in the new information. Buck could feel his Captain’s eyes on the back of his head; he was sure Bobby could smell the attraction on Buck.

“Casual lifeguard. Called when needed as a backup.” You turned your e/c eyes towards the arguably youngest member of the 118.

“How many dead-”

“Harry.” Athena warned her son from continuing a topic that killed the ease and happiness you’d shown previously, “Why don’t we stop talking about-”

“Too many, Harry.” You interrupted your stepmom with a gentle smile towards the woman, “It’s not just drowning that claims lives but also the cliffs surrounding the beaches. Lifeguards patrol more than the beaches and water. Lifeguards respond to medical emergencies, mostly spinal until the paramedics arrive.”

“Oh-”

“I had a fellow lifeguard leave the job because of the suicides we deal with.”

“...who wants cake?” Karen used the quiet interlude of the much too serious topic for a group of kids barely in the double digits of ages. All referenced children followed Hen’s life to the beautiful baked creation.

“Sorry for getting dark there.”

“We all know the dark side of the jobs we chose to do. You sound like you miss Australia. Are you going to return there?” Eddie questioned with one eye pinned on his son, consuming more sugar than he wished.

Eddie’s question did raise self-doubt, but you knew that ultimately living in Australia was no longer a viable option.

“There’s nothing there for me.”

Eddie, Buck and your father understood that mentality to a ‘t’ with family complications keeping them away. Your father for obvious reasons, whereas Eddie and Buck each had a living family with opinions only they saw right.

“You’re always welcome here. Especially when you bring that little cutie to the firehouse.” Maddie cooed towards your baby bump. The 911 dispatcher had asked many questions about your pregnancy.

Maddie was the type of person who could make a stranger feel like they had known for their entire lives.

“Here.”

A plate of the cake was thrust in front of your face courtesy of Maddie’s brother Buck. It is quite literally the perfect size you could ask for. In his other hand, he had a new bottle of water waiting for you to grab.

“Thank you, Buck.” Your shock must have shown in your voice when his cheeks flushed.

“This whole party is a celebration for you, so you shouldn’t have to get up...unless you want to!” Buck rushed to respond, getting more flustered with the amused look of his older sister on him, “You’re already doing something absolutely amazing, so you should get to rela-”

“Buck!” You laughed, ending the older man’s rambling thoughts. The entire party attendees had started watching Buck’s failed smooth attempt.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Buck mutely nodded in response, “No prob-”

The bell was the one to interrupt him instead. The on-duty firefighters rushed down from the upper levels to the lockers. The swift suiting up impressed you as it was like you blinked, and the bay was empty.

“Should be the last call before they get off shift.” Maddie, still occupied with the cake she was eating, “That wine looks so good!”

Your attention snapped from the vacant spots the 118 vehicles parked to the woman ploughing down on the cake. Sure it was good, but not that good. Maybe you could tell as a pregnant woman, or perhaps you just caught some of the symptoms you felt.

“How far along are you?”

Maddie froze, “What are you talk-”

“You’re pregnant, right?”

“Don’t tell anyone. Chim and I found out recently, but we want to wait on telling people. Once the first trimester is over, everyone can know.” Maddie pleaded with two hands cupped under her chin in a prayer position. The pretty brunette using the puppy dog eyes on the new friend she’d made.

“You should tell Buck-”

“We will once we enter the safe zone. So tell me about your baby’s father.” Maddie swiftly changed the subject, unaware of the ache developing in your midsection.

“Lucas Gowan.” You mussed, recalling the freckled half Australian half Scots man with the thick red locks.

“Ooh, is he still in Australia?”

“Technically, he is. I met him at the grocery store near the university campus. I’d transferred to escape my grief. It was purely an attraction at first sight before developing into love at first sight. We convocated and moved into a cosy little place. We’d only just found out about the baby when Lucas passed away.”

As you told Maddie, your hand had moved to cradle the only remaining piece of Lucas.

“His death was unexpected and sudden. He’d taken a run the morning of our scan to find out baby Gowan’s gender. He fell off the side of the cliff. I was told he died instantly. The investigator believes his shoelace untied, and he stepped on it. Fell right off the side.”

“I’m so sorry.” Maddie breathed, leaning closer to hold your hands in her own, “He’d be so proud of you. For returning to the states. Do you keep in contact with his family?”

“He was an only child. Parents died in a car accident when he was ten years old. He was in foster care until he aged out of the system. Poppy is named after his mom.”

Maddie instinctively knew talking about Lucas was, “You know you get along pretty well with Buck... I’ve never seen him so flustered.”

“Maddie, I can tell you are a very intelligent woman, but you’re wrong here. Why would a guy like Buck be interested in a pregnant woman with a reconciling relationship with her father and his Captain while grieving her baby’s dad?”

Maddie tilted her head to the side, “Because I know my brother. He’s only ever had that look when I first moved to LA. Back when Abby was still important to him.”

“We’ll just have to agree to disagree.”

Maddie’s mouth opened to speak, but you were saved by the bell when Athena called you over for pictures. Then her attempts got thwarted once more when the 118 returned to the house perfectly synced to the end of shift.

“Driving here was the last time until the baby’s here. You’ve got precious cargo-”

“I’m seven months pregnant; I can still drive. There’s no law saying I can’t-”

Never argue with Athena Grant-Nash, “It may not be illegal, but I won’t endanger my daughter or my granddaughter.”

“I have to get to my OB/GYN appointment tomorrow. You and Dad each have a long shift during my scheduled appointment. Harry is both too young to drive and in school. May has a shift at dispatch. There’s literally no one available to take me.”

Bobby watched as two of the most important women in his life argued over something as trivial as driving. Harry shook at listening to someone fighting against his mother; she could be terrifying.

“I can take her.”

Everyone in the fir house turned to the voice who’d offered suddenly and found the sheepish form of a tall firefighter. Eddie’s eyebrows raised at his best friend.

“I don’t work tomorrow. I’ve got no plans. Albert’s got some date with a girl at her place.”

“I couldn’t put you out.”

“You need a ride, and I’ll be bored, so why not take my new friend to her baby doctor.”

“Baby doctor?” Hen parroted to her wife in astonishment towards her coworker and close friend. Both the women found the blatant flirting from Buck to the soon to be mother.

“She’ll take you up on the offer. She’s staying in our guest room. Come early for breakfast before you go. We’ll be having waffles.”

Buck found any excuse to visit the Grant-Nash home with the motive to hang out with you ever since the baby shower. From delivering baked goods from your favourite bakery to insisting on driving you to appointments. Didn’t matter if Athena or Bobby could take you; Buck was adamant he drove you.

The friendship was easy going and very natural, like a ball glove still moulded perfectly to your hand. The hangouts in your home evolved to weekly visits to restaurants with guidelines to the current event happening worldwide.

Ultimately it even led to a test date.

“You look breathtaking.” Buck breathlessly informed you once he’d gently pushed your chair closer to the table.

“Thank you.” You kindly responded despite thinking the complete opposite to the charming man sitting across from you.

Athena and May had helped you get ready for the date with calming words on how going on a date so far into the pregnancy was okay. Then, your father had tentatively inserted himself with sage advice on re-entering the dating scene.

“I thought we could grab some ice cream after,” Buck spoke up as soon as the waiter had taken your drink order. Buck had decided to refrain from alcohol and went with glasses of lemonade and water.

“You shouldn’t say that. I’ll just want ice cream.” You snickered, caressing the taut belly you’d grown to love. In fact, the firm push of a heel announced Poppy’s agreement with ice cream as dessert.

“How is Poppy?”

“The doc says she’s right on track. Healthy all around and in the position, she’s supposed to be at this stage.” Buck adored the affectionate smile that always appeared when the topic of your pregnancy was brought up.

“That’s amazing! Bobby gushes about you and Poppy. The fridge has an entire door dedicated to sonograms of Poppy. Even a few from that maternity shoot Hen and Maddie surprised you with.”

A few weeks had passed since the baby shower the 118 had surprised you with. Maddie had announced her pregnancy to the joy of the chosen family she had. Bobby had put together a crib he had painted. Michael, Athena’s ex-husband, had started making plans for adding on to the house for a room for the baby.

Despite informing the architect, you planned on moving out when you had saved enough, he’d made a sound argument. Athena would want a place for the baby to stay when you visited, or the woman demanded to babysit.

Now you found yourself in a National forest not far from Los Angeles, posing in front of nature. A surprise photoshoot Hen and Karen had organized with Karen’s brother Trey. Maddie and Athena had been the ones who drove you.

“Hold the teddy bear on your bump,” Trey informed you from behind his professional and intimidating camera. The photographer praised you in the rapid movement to listen to his offer.

“Hey! Maddie! You should take a few photos. I need a pee break.” You didn’t wait for Maddie to respond in your rush to the somewhat rustic bathroom hut.

By the time you returned, Maddie was taking a couple pictures. Then you took some with Athena to have on the nursery walls and for Bobby to have a photo for his desk.

“Now one with all three of you.”

Present

“So a daredevil.” You stated unsurprised that the firefighter had a history of recklessness. You don’t go into firefighting without a taste for danger.

“The bruises and blood fit better than the awful bleached hair during my time in Peru.” Buck laughed, recalling the questionable choice in his fashion pre-firefighting. Sometimes he missed the people he encountered in his period of self-discovery.

“You didn’t wear puka sh-”

“I did. Bleached hair, puka shells and Hawaiian shirts were my staples during my bartending years. I fit in with the aesthetic of the bar I tended.”

“Buck!” You nearly gasped at his raw honesty. Buck didn’t hold back any answers to your questions, but you each strayed from the topic of family.

Talking about the tragic family history wasn’t a good idea on the first time regardless of the time you’d known each other.

“You’re telling me-” Buck halted as soon as he caught the flash of discomfort flicker over your beautiful features, “Are you okay?”

“She shifted. Been sitting on my blad-” You cut yourself off with a hiss of pain. Buck’s eyes widened at the pain taking over your features, “Oh, that hurt.”

Buck went straight into work mode, “Have you been in pain for long?”

“No. A few cramps here and there today, but my doctor said it was nothing to worry about.” You informed the experienced first responder resting level to your knees.

Buck didn’t want to say it, but he was sure that you’d gone into early labour. There was no indication your water had broken, but he kept over the last hour together. Every once in a while, you shifted or pressed a hand to your bump.

“Has your water broken?”

You shook your head, “No, but...oh... that’s not a cramp.”

With that statement out, you clenched your fingers tight on the edge of the table as pain rippled in your belly. A contraction that stole your breath momentarily. In your contraction, Buck had dialled 911. Buck recalled that sometimes a woman’s water doesn't break until right before the birth.

“We’re not getting that ice cream, are we?” You snorted upon being lifted onto the gurney. How fortunate or unfortunate you were to have the 118 right there.

Hen had taken a position at your feet to check on your lower body while Chimney took your vital signs. You honestly didn’t like the look Hen and Chimney shared with Buck.

“What is it?”

“We’re gonna need to deliver here.” Hen sighed, giving you the facts that terrified you. When you envisioned having the baby, it was in a medical centre. Not in a restaurant.

“My office is large and away from the crowd if you want. I can show you the way.” Sophie, the restaurant manager, offered already starting to lead the way. Sophie would never know how thankful you felt for being able to have privacy.

“Okay, Y/N, is it okay if I check how dilated you -.” Hen breathed with her hand, gently disappearing until the thin blanket Chimney procured from the stocked ambulance, “Y/N when I saw I want you to do that.”

Hen didn’t need to check your dilation when she could see the baby’s head already.

“I’m right here.” Buck cooed in your ear. He had held your hand as his coworkers did their jobs around you.

“This isn’t the way I envisioned you seeing my pu-”

“Push.” Hen urged, cutting off your almost vulgar language, but it eased the tension in the small restaurant office. You couldn’t even see Buck’s flustered reaction as you bore down with the contraction, “Good! Take a breath.”

“You’re a strong woman. It never ceases to amaze me the strength women have.” Buck spoke, keeping your e/c eyes on his blue ones. His hand raised to push a strand of your sweaty hair off your temple.

“Once more push!” Hen called out just in time with the last contraction. The feeling of the pressure between your legs popping was moan inducing.

Poppy was silent. Your entire body froze, yearning for the sweet sound of crying instead of the eerie silence. The world stood still as Chimney worked on your baby girl.

“Pulse is strong,” Chimney announced, keeping his attention on the task of clearing Poppy’s throat and nose. And that sweet sound of crying commenced, “Congratulations Y/N, you have a beautiful baby girl. Let’s get you to the hospital.”

Your father beat the ambulance to the nearest ER in pure anticipation at meeting his granddaughter Poppy Nash Gowan. He barely noticed as Buck stuck to your side like glue. Bobby waited outside the door as you got checked over in the room.

“Quite the first date.” You mused towards Buck, who hovered in awe over the life form you had carried for nine months. You’d been pregnant for three quarters of an entire year to his fascination.

“All my meaningful relationships started with a medical emergency.” Buck finally looked up at you. He’d kept Poppy company in the bassinet while you delivered the afterbirth upon entering the hospital.

“Seriously?”

“Had a tracheostomy on Valentine’s Day with Abby, an earthquake with Ali and a newscaster in a crashed helicopter.” Buck listed off. He hadn’t even noticed scooping the newborn into his arms until he’d sat in the chair by your bed, “Why not add a sudden labour and delivery.”

“He would have liked you.”

The sentence came out of absolutely nowhere. Almost like something had ripped it out of your vocal cords. At the look of confusion, you elaborated.

“Lucas. He would have liked you. I think if it is possible, he might have pushed me into meeting you. I’ll still need to take it slow, but I’d like to give this a shot.”

That was all Buck needed to lean in closer to kiss you—the first of many kisses.

Some might disagree on how quick your relationship with Buck developed, but they didn’t know yours at all. It was natural with the firefighter who stepped into the role of father figure for a growing Poppy. By the time Poppy was one, you’d moved into a house not far from your father’s place with Buck. By the time Poppy was three, a pretty ring had sat on your finger. By five, the young girl had a baby brother.

“Your parents spoil Poppy.”

“You say that like you didn’t crawl into her crib during her afternoon naps.” You deadpanned towards your husband. Buck had the nerve to sheepishly grin, “You give in each time she says ‘pwetty pwease’ for a cookie.”

“It’s a crime to make her sad!” Buck defended himself, but a grin of amusement threatened his act, “Besides, you crack each time too!”

“Mhm. Just wait until Theo can talk.” You pressed a kiss to the sleeping infant strapped into the baby carrier. Theodore Robert Buckley could fall asleep in a thunderstorm if he was in Buck’s arms.

“Oh! Maddie wants to have Poppy over for a play date. Madster’s been begging for her cousin to have a sleepover.”

Maddie and Chimney’s daughter was only a few months younger than your daughter, but the two were thick as thieves. Buck had referred to the Han daughter as Madster with how similar her mannerisms were to her mother.

“Think they’d take the rascal?”

“Is this code for you wanting to have another?” Buck questioned with a twinkle of mischief in his blue eyes. The same blue Theo had inherited along with a birthmark like Buck’s on his bicep.

“I-” You choked, blinking furiously, “Evan, I pushed Theo out of my body barely three months ago!”

Buck inconspicuously winked in response with the sudden scream of excitement coming from Poppy. The rambunctious five-year-old ploughed into Buck’s legs full force. Falling into the practised ease, you’d unstrapped Theo from Buck’s chest and promptly had his tiny body stolen into his grandpa’s arms.

“There’s my boy.” Bobby cooed to the sleep drunk tiny infant. The little baby is crowded by his Gram Athena and Aunt May, “Gonna have to get you a Minnesota Wilds jersey.”

“Hell no. That boy is LA born and bred. He’ll be wearing a Kings jersey like the civilized.” Michael announced with the sudden arrival of Theo and Poppy’s Uncle Harry.

“Mommy? When are we going to Stralia?” Poppy inquired from right beside your leg. Her tiny handheld is the giant one of her dad.

“In a few weeks. Are you excited to see the mommy’s old friends again?”

“Hm. Can we see Dada?”

Buck may be Poppy’s father, but he’d never let Poppy go without knowing she had two fathers in all. Her first one waiting to meet here decades from the time she was born and solely referenced Lucas as Dada. Buck was grateful for the man who brought Poppy into existence; the little green-eyed tot Buck could never regret. Unlike Buck’s parents keeping his older brother’s existence a secret, the firefighter refused to follow in their footsteps. He’d continue to shower the late Lucas in gratitude and respect. He refused to make the same mistakes as Phillip and Margaret Buckley.

“Of course. C’mon Poppy, time to say goodbye.” Buck guided the little girl to the extended family showering her little brother with love. The little girl was quickly swung into Bobby’s arms, and Athena cooing at your infant son.

Changes. The six-letter word doesn’t have to be terrifying. It can be breathtaking, memorable and beautiful to experience.

Tag List(s): (PLEASE SEND AN INBOX TO BE ADDED! I CANNOT GUARANTEE YOU WILL BE ON THE LIST VIA POST COMMENTS!)

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jekde04 · 3 years

Text

Unbreakable Vow

Summary: There had been many false alarms in the past, moments when she thought Gray would finally accept her feelings. She once again had her hopes up, even though she knew this was probably another one of those.

Word Count: 1,503 words

You may also read it on FanFiction.net and AO3! Check out my master list for other Gruvia fics.

Tag List: @shampooneko @fbflame94 @juviaafullbuster @unvalley @gruviaftw11 (Wanna be tagged, lemme know)

When she said those words, she hadn't really expected he would do it for her.

Of course, everyone in Magnolia knew of his habit of stripping his clothes at random—she in particular enjoyed it quite a lot—but he did it almost unconsciously, out of force of habit.

She never thought the day would come that her Gray-sama would actually undress willingly in front of her.

In her room. After she jokingly asked him to do so.

"Well?" Gray asked, his muscled chest, arms, and abs in full display as he carelessly tossed his coat and shirt on her bed.

For all her cheeky jokes and naughty teases, she was still a shy and conservative girl underneath it all. She couldn't help but get flustered as she eyed the deep V-shaped cuts of his lower abs that disappeared beneath his low-cut jeans.

"W-why is Gray-sama undressing in front of Ju-Juvia?"

Gray smirked, and Juvia instantly knew he was enjoying this. Oh, her Gray-sama could be so mean sometimes.

"You said you'd inspect my body for any wounds, right? I'm just doing what you asked me to," he answered casually with a shrug of his shoulders. "Are you going to do it or not?"

Well, he had a point. If Gray had an injury somewhere, it needed to be cleaned and patched up.

She had to do it for her Gray-sama, Juvia thought. This was no time to be embarrassed.

Keeping her composure, she sat on the empty space beside him on her bed. She felt a tingle run up her spine as their arms lightly brushed against each other.

"Let Juvia see, Gray-sama," she said as she carefully inspected his face first, her fingers treading on his forehead, cheeks, nose, chin. Her brows furrowed in concentration as she continued looking for any cut or bruise or scratch on his neck, shoulders, arms, chest, and abs.

As he said before, he was fine. There were some minor cut and scratch here and there, but they were far from being life-threatening. A little dab of alcohol (with Juvia blowing on it so it wouldn't sting) and a small band-aid were enough to patch him up.

"Juvia."

Gray's serious tone made Juvia look up from the tiny cut she was treating on his collarbone. His intense stare bored into her.

"I… I..."

Juvia waited for his next words, but he looked as if he was trapped in an internal struggle on what to say next. She knew that words weren't his strongest suit, so she decided to help him out.

"Did the mission go well?"

Gray sighed, relieved that Juvia opened up the conversation. "Yes. But it's not yet done. We still have to go back and finish it."

Juvia nodded. She was really hoping that it would all be done, and they could spend more time with each other. All the constant worrying also stressed her out. She knew that he promised to come back, but you never really know what might happen during dangerous missions like this one.

Speaking of coming back…

"Gray-sama, before you disappeared last time, you were about to say something." Juvia cleared her throat. "You said that when you come back…"

Gray's cheeks colored slightly, though his eyes wore a determined look. "I... I was just saying that when I come back…" He stared right at her, and she tried her best not to look away.

There had been many false alarms in the past, moments when she thought Gray would finally accept her feelings, but they didn't end the way she wanted them to. Despite that, she craved for such moments, and even though she knew in her mind that this was probably another one of those false alarms, she still had her hopes up. After all, even if Gray wasn't that great with words, he always made her feel special with his subtle actions.

The words would come eventually, she told herself. Be patient, Juvia.

But the more they stared silently at each other, the more that Juvia was convinced that perhaps, this was still not the right time. That maybe Gray still wasn't ready. Maybe she was pressuring him—

"When I come back, I'll be a man worthy of you." Gray finally said.

Juvia couldn't believe her ears. Was this some hyper-real fantasy she was conjuring in her head?

"I swear... that I will do my best to make you happy, for each and every day that you choose to stay by my side..."

Juvia wanted to slap herself to make sure everything was real, but instead, she remained frozen in place as Gray said the words she never thought she would hear from him.

"... if you would still have me, of course," he finished reluctantly, as if he was expecting her to shoot him down right there. When Juvia just stared at him and didn't say anything, he unclasped his silver cross necklace and reached forward to place it around her neck.

Juvia could feel his breath against her cheek as Gray leaned over. She felt herself getting flushed with their proximity as time seemed to stretch forever. Her heart was drumming in her ears, it was impossible he couldn't hear it.

In a daze, she palmed the cross now resting on her chest. It was cold in her warm hands, much like its owner.

Looking up, she found herself staring straight into Gray's onyx eyes, a light blush adorning his cheeks. Their faces were just a few inches apart, and she could easily close the distance if she just moved a little closer…

"Gray-sama."

His name escaped her lips like a whispered prayer only he could hear, making him reach out and cup one of her cheeks. They didn't realize how close they were to each other until they felt the tip of their noses touch, but neither pulled back. Juvia's eyes instinctively closed, her lashes brushing against his cheeks.

She felt his lips cover her own, at first soft and reluctant, as if asking for permission. Opening her lips slightly, Gray kissed her again, deeper this time, angling his head and nibbling at her lower lip.

Matching his intensity, her hands slid to his broad shoulders all the way to his back. She felt his other hand against the small of her back, pressing her closer to his body. They stopped momentarily when they felt the need for air, but the reprieve was short as he dove in, again and again, making up for all the moments he could have kissed her like this but didn't.

It was a dream, Juvia was sure. A dream she wished would never end.

But it did end eventually, though there was no doubt it was real. Her flushed cheeks, slightly swollen lips, and Gray's arms wrapped around her were enough evidence that it wasn't just a product of her wild imagination.

"Juvia," he whispered, her name on his lips sending an electric shock to her body. "Promise me you'll wait for me."

"Juvia promises," she answered without hesitation, looking straight into his eyes. She once again clasped the cross on her chest, knowing that even without his words, he would certainly come back home to her. And she would wait, no matter how long it would take.

He gave her his signature smirk, but it was matched with so much tenderness in his eyes that she knew it would always be the last thing she would remember every night before she fell asleep. She gave him a smile in return, the one she always reserved for him.

His hand covered the one clasping his necklace, tightening his hold. "I'll leave this to you so that you won't forget the promise I gave you."

"Juvia will never forget Gray-sama's words, with or without this," Juvia answered him. "But since Gray-sama gave Juvia a piece of him…"

Suddenly, Juvia had an idea. She stepped away from a confused Gray and went to her closet. When she came back, she was sporting a wide grin and holding something behind her back.

"Juvia would also like to give Gray-sama a Juvia doll so he'd always remember that Juvia's waiting for him!" she exclaimed, handing the plushie to Gray.

Any other time, Gray would have freaked out at Juvia's unconventional gifts. But he was used to these things by now, and frankly, he loved her for it.

Smiling, he took the Juvia doll in his arms, staring at the dark blue eyes sewn on its hat-covered head. It wasn't the real Juvia, but it would do for now.

"Thanks. I'll take care of my Juvia doll," he said, and Juvia beamed. "But for now—"

He placed the Juvia doll on the table and grabbed her hand, pulling her close to him. Juvia gasped as she found herself locked in his arms once again.

"Let me take care of you while I'm here, okay?"

"Okay."

No Fairy Tail mage saw them again, at least for the rest of that night.

***

A/N: You know, I always get a spark of inspiration from canon materials and official arts. This one’s inspired by Mashima-sensei’s latest autograph session featuring these two artworks below. Next in my pipeline: the Gruvia Day 2021 official art. I already have the story in my head so hopefully I have enough time to finish it in the next two weeks!

#gruvia #gruvia fanfic #gruvia fanfiction #gray x juvia #gray fullbuster #juvia lockser #fairy tail

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jikookiekosmos · 4 years

Text

Be Good For Me || jjk

➥Pairing: best friend!jungkook/reader

➥Summary: You’ve been best friends with Jeon Jungkook for the last several years, and you’d never really thought to look at him as anything other than that. At least, you hadn’t thought about it until that one night where some spilled drinks changed everything.

➥Genre: best friends to lovers, fluff, slight angst, smut

➥Rating: 18+

➥Content Warnings: making out, marking/biting (not much), oral (m. receiving), jungkook has a big dick, deepthroating, cum eating, thigh riding, praise kink, degradation (only happens twice), cursing (fuck is said a lot), dirty talk, aftercare, jungkook is actually the sweetest, reader has conflicting emotions

➥Words: ~4.3k

A/N: this is my first time ever writing smut, so hopefully it’s decent. Special thanks to my Kenz for inspiring me to be more adventurous with my writing, and for giving me opinions and endless support. I don’t know what I’d do without you.❤

There will probably be at least one follow up chapter to this as well!

Thank you to anyone who reads this, I hope you enjoy it~

➥Masterlist

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

You fucked up. Several years of friendship, and you’d just fucked it up.

You didn’t mean for it to happen, really. Jungkook was your best friend, and you both hung out rather frequently, practically living at each other’s apartments when you weren’t by yourselves. Never did you consider that there may be more to your friendship, until that one night when everything changed.

You thought about the events of the night that happened less than a week ago, remembering how his hands felt all over you...

You both went out to a bar, you drank, played some pool, listened to live music and had a good time. Something you’d done many, many times before.

However, a waitress ended up spilling some alcohol on the both of you when they were bumped into by another drunk patron. You knelt to help clean up what had spilled onto the floor-

-and that was when you knew something shifted.

You were on the floor, more specifically, you were on your knees in front of him. As you peered up at Jungkook, an innocent enough gesture, the look he was giving you was anything but.

Even in the dim light of the bar, you could see the how the look in Jungkook’s eyes had changed, and you started to feel hot all over.

That feeling only intensified when Jungkook leaned down some to caress your cheek, his hand curving around your jaw as you continued to look up at him from your position on your knees.

You felt vulnerable, but also safe. He was looking at you in a way you’d never seen before. And for the first time - if you don’t count dreams or fantasizing - you were also looking at Jungkook in a different light.

After the incident with the spilled alcohol, you both decided to stop by your place (you both had sobered up at this point) and change clothes before heading out somewhere else.

Then it happened.

When the both of you were in your bedroom and you were trying to change your shirt, you felt arms snaking around your waist from behind. Jungkook laid his chin on your shoulder and you reflexively covered up your chest with the shirt still in your hand.

He’d seen you half-naked before, and you’d seen him. He’d wrapped his arms around you countless times in the past. But something about this felt different.

You’d be absolutely lying if you said you found Jungkook unattractive. In fact, he was probably the most attractive man you knew.

But he was also your goofy, caring, best friend for many years, so any other kind of affection beside platonic had always been, well...

Let’s just say you’ve never seriously considered it. Thought about it? Sure. Maybe even fantasized about it once or twice or a few times? Who wouldn’t.

But, in that moment where he was so close, everything felt so much more intimate and you weren’t sure what to do.

“You know,” he started to say, and you could feel his chin moving against your shoulder as he spoke, “it is really hard to just stand there while you’re here like this.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, the sound of your heartbeat pounded in your ears. “Whatever do you mean?”

He laughed and moved back some. You didn’t know what he was doing until he placed a kiss on your shoulder blade. You gasped at the feeling. His lips were warm and they felt so nice against your skin.

He started trailing upward, leaving small kisses on your neck, and he only stopped when he was right by your ear. You had closed your eyes during the whole thing but you opened them now to see him staring at you through the mirror on your dresser you both were standing in front of.

“Just say the word and I’ll stop,” he said lowly, his lips right underneath your earlobe. You just looked back at him through the mirror, your resolve almost crumbling. You let out a small sound, somewhere between a gasp and a whimper when he nibbled on your earlobe. He chuckled and you felt his chest vibrating against your back.

You held onto the dresser then, involuntarily leaning back in his hold. He smiled at you through the mirror and you were seconds away from losing it.

“I promise I’ll stop if this isn’t what you want,” you felt his hand moving down your stomach, ghosting over the top of your shorts. “But I need you to tell me.”

You just stared at him through half-lidded eyes, not sure what to say. Of course you wanted this, but you were also afraid. You were scared this could change your whole dynamic, and you loved how you both were now as best friends. But also, it could lead to something more.

Were you ready for that?

“Y/N,” Jungkook breathed right by your ear again. “I need to know. Because the more I keep going, the harder it is for me to restrain myself. I want you so bad,” he added the last bit softly at the end, his fingers trailed down even lower still.

“But I promise you, if you don’t want this at all, tell me and I’ll stop immediately.” He looked at you again through the mirror, his eyes sincere. You knew he would never hurt you, he always put your comfort first above everything else, no matter what.

You finally found the courage to speak. You knew what you wanted.

You wanted him the same way he wanted you.

“Don’t stop. Please,” you begged. That was all he needed.

Jungkook spun you around and lifted you up so your legs were around his waist. He wasted no time in crashing his lips against yours, moving them almost like a man that was starved. You wound your arms around his neck, pulling him in more.

He sat you down on the dresser, his hands sliding up your thighs as he deepened the kiss. You moaned into it, loving the feeling of his lips on yours. It was a feeling that up until now, you’d only dreamt about, and it was so much better than you could’ve ever imagined. He bit your bottom lip, asking for access and you let him have it.

“You have no idea what you do to me, you drive me crazy,” he told you in between kisses. He started trailing down your neck again, and you could feel him start to leave a hickey in the junction where your collarbone was.

“Ah,” you breathed out, the feeling intense. Everything with Jungkook was intense, and you loved every second of it.

You reached down to grab the hem of his shirt and tugged on it. He leaned back.

“Off. Please.” You tugged it upwards and he got the hint. He pulled it off with no hesitation, and he was standing in front of you then in all his shirtless glory. You let out a soft moan at the sight, even though you’d seen him like this before.

This was different, though, because he was here, with you, and you both were about to cross a line you may not be able to come back from.

You trailed your hand down his defined abs, letting it rest right above his jeans. Your other hand was trailing along his tattoos on his arm. His skin felt warm and you felt yourself getting wetter with each passing second.

You started to unfasten his jeans then, and when he didn’t stop you, you reached down and palmed him over his boxers. He left out a soft groan at the feeling, hungrily kissing you again.

He stopped you from going further, moving your hand away. You were confused for a second until he moved his hands around your back to unfasten your bra that you were still wearing. He looked at you as if he was asking for permission.

“Can I? I mean, it’s only fair since you keep removing more of my clothes, don’t you think?” That cocky smirk appeared on his face and you didn’t have it in you to jokingly tell him off, like you normally would.

“Go ahead,” you responded, this time taking the initiative to kiss him. He fumbled with the clasp for a second, making you giggle into his mouth. He bit down on your lip again, making you shut up.

He finally had had your bra undone and it fell off your shoulders. He pulled it the rest of the way down and unceremoniously tossed it somewhere in the room. Immediately he brought his hands up to knead your breasts, rolling your nipples in between his fingers. You arched into his touch, not even bothering to try to stifle any noises anymore.

“Good girl,” you could feel him smirking against your skin as he placed more kisses on your neck. At this rate if he kept up teasing you like this you might come undone before you had the chance to even do anything. Jungkook was that good.

“Jungkook,” you whined, feeling your resolve crumble more with each passing second. He pulled away from you to look at your face. You were breathing heavily and he was starting to as well.

“What do you want me to do to you,” he asked. You thought about it for a second because shit, what did you want? You looked down and saw the bulge in his jeans, an idea coming to you quickly.

“I want to do something to you,” you responded, giving him a quick kiss. You felt him smile against your lips.

“And what’s that, hm?”

You looked down at him again as you palmed him once more. He groaned, the sound so sweet to your ears.

“I wanna suck you off,” you said softly, lips hovering over his. You heard a sharp intake of breath leave him before he was scanning your face.

“Are you sure? Because we can go slower-“

“Jungkook, please,” you pulled him closer again, your breasts brushing against his chest now.

“Yeah, fuck, ok,” he told you, running a hand through his hair. He looked flustered and you giggled again.

“How do you want to do this,” he asked, picking you up off the dresser and setting you down in front of him. His hand cradled against your waist and it was like no matter what he always had to be touching you in some way. You loved it.

“Well, how about I get on my knees for you. You’d like that, right?” Your tone was soft which was a drastic contrast from the thing you’d just asked him.

“At least,” you added when he hadn’t said anything, “you seemed to like it earlier.” You saw him gulp and nod.

“Fuck yeah,” he responded. You led him over to the bed and had him sit down, immediately dropping onto your knees in front of him.

He groaned at the sight. “Jesus Y/N, you look so fucking hot like this. All ready to take me.”

His praise made you even more wet, and you started to work down his jeans and boxers. When you had everything down, his cock sprang free.

Holy shit, he was big. You weren’t sure you’d be able to take all of him.

Jungkook seemed to guess what you were thinking because he said “Don’t force anything, take your time and do what’s comfortable.”

His concern made you even more aroused, somehow. You used that as motivation to take in as much as you could. Before you did anything, though, you used your tongue to give the tip a quick lick, just to see how he’d react.

Jungkook leaned his head back at the feeling, letting out a soft moan from above you. So, he seemed sensitive; this was gonna be fun.

You slowly took in more of the head, working your way down and hollowing out your cheeks as you went. You kept your eyes open so you could see him. His hands were gripping the sheets on the bed.

“Holy shit, Y/N. Your mouth feels so good,” he panted out. Your praise kink was really going into overdrive tonight. Every time he said something like that it just spurred you on.

Soon enough you felt him reach the back of your throat. You hadn’t been able to take him all in sadly, but he was loving it regardless. You could feel his thigh muscles tightening underneath your palms.

‘Ok,’ you thought to yourself, ‘you can focus on his thighs some other time, you have other matters to attend to right now.’

You picked up your pace and Jungkook started getting louder. He was loud enough to let you know he was really enjoying it, and it just made you more determined to do better.

You wanted him to come undone and you wanted to be the one to do it.

You saw one of his fists clenching and unclenching around the sheets. In a moment of daring courage, you grabbed that hand and placed it on top of your head. Jungkook’s eyes opened as he looked down at you, only to moan and close them again.

“God I can’t look at you or I’m gonna cum on the spot. Shit,” he breathed out, his hips bucking up. He tried to move his hand away but you brought it back.

If he wanted to use you, then you wanted him to use you.

He panted. “F-fuck, are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.” His sweetness made your chest feel warm, but you didn’t want to focus on that right now. You wanted to make him feel good, that was your top priority.

You patted his hand as confirmation, since you didn’t want to take your mouth off of him.

“O-ok,” he answered shakily. You could tell he was getting closer, and you wanted to bring him over the edge.

His fingers tangled in your hair, gripping tighter the further you went down. Eventually he started pushing you down even more, which you were enjoying a lot.

Too bad you had to start gagging though. Stupid reflex.

Your gagging seemed to spur him on more so you didn’t mind too much.

“Fuck sorry, shit, I didn’t mean to-“ he started to say but he cut himself off with a moan when you hollowed out your cheeks more. You picked up your pace again and you felt his thighs shaking underneath your hands.

“Fuck Y/N, I’m so close, if you don’t want me to cum in your mouth tap my hand, ok? Otherwise - shit - I’m not gonna be able to hold back.”

You didn’t make any move to tap his hand. His noises started getting louder and he opened his eyes to look at you.

That was all it took.

“Fuck-“ he let out a loud moan and soon after you felt stripes of cum hit the back of your throat. You waited until he was done before you pulled off, swallowing as much as you could. Jungkook was breathing heavily, leaning back on his hands now as he watched you.

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. His eyes were staring at you hungrily and before you could do anything else he pulled you up to sit on his lap. He kissed you hard and you wondered if he could taste himself on your tongue. If he did, he didn’t seem to mind it.

“These need to come off. Now,” he growled, tugging on both your shorts and leggings. You moved up so he could pull them down, leaving you in nothing but your panties which you had soaked through already. He rubbed your clit through the fabric and you let out an embarrassingly loud moan, which made him chuckle.

“You’re so fucking wet for me,” he said as he continued. Shit, were you really about to cum from him just rubbing you over clothing? It seemed like a high possibility.

You started rocking your hips back and forth and he soon set you down on his thigh. He was probably thinking about what to do next, but since your eyes were closed, you didn’t see where he was placing you and you were still rocking forward. When you felt yourself move against his thigh, you gasped at the feeling.

You opened your eyes and looked at Jungkook, and you could almost see the gears turning in his head.

“Oh, I see,” he said as he gave you a devilish grin. Oh no.

“Let’s get these off, hm?” He asked as he tugged your panties down. You shifted so he could remove them and then he settled you back down onto his thigh. You didn’t know what he was planning, but he placed his hands on your waist. He made you rock forward once more and the feeling was so intense you had to grip the sheets to stop from falling.

“Fuck,” you breathed out, closing your eyes again. He kept moving you so that you were riding against his thigh and it was easily one of the best things you’d ever felt. You knew you wouldn’t last long at this rate.

“God you’re so beautiful,” Jungkook said, sounding far away. When you were moving fine by yourself, he just left his hands around your waist, no longer guiding you. He watched as you were coming undone on his thigh, of all the places.

“Hm, I wonder...” you heard him say before he flexed his thigh muscle.

“Shit!” You moaned out and almost fell down again. You heard him laugh and he did it again. Jeon Jungkook, for the love of fuck-

“You feel so good against me. Fuck, I’m almost hard again just looking at you.” The praise spurred you on once again and you moved faster. He took one of your breasts in his mouth, his tongue lapping over your nipple and making you stutter with your movements. You wound your hands in his hair as he continued, his hands still on your hips.

“Jungkook, oh my god-“ you panted as he kept going, the stimulation driving you crazy. “Please don’t stop.”

He chuckled then. “Wasn’t planning on it,” he added in a low tone before switching to your other breast. Your own legs were shaking now, his actions making you feel unlike you’d ever felt before.

And you didn’t know if that’s because of what he was doing specifically, or if it was because he was Jungkook.

Before you had more time to contemplate that, he removed his hands from your waist, holding your hands and intertwining both your fingers so you could lean against his hands without falling down.

If someone had told you a month ago that you’d be riding your best friend’s thigh on a Friday night after coming home to change into different clothes, you would have laughed in their face. But, well, how the turn tables, right?

Jungkook leaned you forward some, changing the angle where you were moving against him so that he could kiss you again. You moaned into the kiss, feeling yourself start to come even more undone. It wouldn’t be be long now.

“You know that favor you still owe me,” he said against your lips.

You nodded vigorously, your moans increasing in pitch.

A few weeks prior you’d promised him you’d do anything he wanted if he left you alone to finish working on something; he wasn’t really bugging you, but you had a deadline you were trying to meet and you needed total concentration. Part of you was surprised he was bringing it up now, but it also didn’t surprise you at the same time.

“What is it,” you asked back, shakily.

“All I want,” he removed one of his hands from yours, still able to hold you up, and caressed your cheek, “is for you to be good for me.”

He kissed you softly and you almost came right then.

“Fuck, yeah, ok I can do that. I love being good for you.” you said the words without thinking and Jungkook groaned into another kiss.

“I fucking love hearing you say things like that. Love hearing you beg for me. You like begging for me?” He was moving your hips again now and you placed your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself.

“Yes, I love it, I love being obedient for you,” you responded, again not knowing where the FUCK any of this was coming from but fuck it, you were going for it.

He leaned forward to kiss your neck again, trailing upwards so he was by your ear.

“Yeah, is that so? You love being a little slut for me?” He bit down on your neck as he said those words and you let out the loudest moan you had for the whole night.

“Only for you,” you breathed out, feeling your orgasm approach at an alarming speed. You never knew degradation was another thing you liked, but you guessed sometimes it just takes finding the right person to bring it out.

And if Jungkook was that person for you, that excited and scared the hell out of you all at the same time.

“Good girl, that’s what I like to hear,” he chuckled against your skin.

Once again his praise washed over you and you were nearing your high. “Kook, fuck, I’m close-“

“Yeah? Go ahead. Cum all over me like the little slut that you are.”

Andddd that was that. You came hard and jolted forward, Jungkook catching you as you did so. He helped you ride out your orgasm, placing a kiss on your forehead when you were done, letting you catch your breath as he held you in his arms.

“Damn,” you heard Jungkook faintly say, “if I’d know spilling a drink on you would lead to this, I would’ve done it way sooner.”

With what little strength you had left, you smacked his chest, making him laugh.

“Not funny,” you muttered, a small smile etching its way onto your features as you closed your eyes and leaned your head on his shoulder.

“And yet, you’re still smiling,” his soft voice was right by your ear now as he placed a kiss on your temple.

When your brain finally woke up again you briefly thought about how embarrassing what just happened was before looking up at Jungkook, expecting him to maybe be disgusted or even mock you. Who the fuck rides your thigh during your first hook-up or whatever the fuck this was? There was no way you would live this down.

“Hey, look at me,” Jungkook held your face in his hands, his eyebrows downturned with worry. “You’re doing the thing again.”

“What thing”, you asked, still hazy in your post-orgasm bliss. Not hazy enough to feel any less embarrassed, though.

“You’re making the face you make when something’s troubling you. Please don’t tell me you regret what just happened because I definitely do not.” You were still sitting on his thigh and he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you closer. You were still sensitive so the movement made you jolt, getting a chuckle out of him.

“It’s just...that was embarrassing-“

“What?” Jungkook looked at you, baffled. “Y/N, that was easily one of the hottest things I’ve ever experienced, why are you embarrassed? Shit, I’m almost ready for another round, but I know you’re too tired.” He gave you a quick peck on your nose and you giggled. You believed him, and it helped you calm down some.

“Now, if you’re done thinking things that aren’t true, how about we get cleaned up, yeah? And if you want me to leave after that, I can, or if you wanna go somewhere else we can, I figured you’re probably done for the night, though,” he said as he rubbed your back. You laid your head on his shoulder again, too tired to even contemplate going out somewhere else.

“Please don’t leave. Please stay with me.”

“Always,” he responded softly. You both got off the bed then to go take a shower, and it was intimate but in a nice, comfortable way. When you were cleaned up you snuggled back into the bed, and he pulled you close, your back against his chest. Jungkook left out a soft sigh.

“Hey,” you heard him ask as you were drifting off to sleep. “Was it ok that I called you that? A slut, I mean. It was kinda just in the moment and it slipped out but I don’t mean it and I hope you know that-“

You turned slightly so you could see him. He looked genuinely worried. You gave him a soft smile.

“Jungkook, I liked it because it came from you and it was an in the moment thing. I know you don’t mean it. You can’t go around doing that in public, though, or I promise I will kick your ass.”

He laughed then and snuggled deeper into your back, nuzzling his nose along your neck. “Got it, I just wanted to make sure. Sleep well,” he finished, placing a kiss on your shoulder blade (which is how this whole mess started, you thought to yourself).

You had no idea what just happened or where this left the two of you, or how this would affect your friendship. You didn’t really have the energy to put a lot of thought into it right now, either.

“Love you,” you heard Jungkook softly say behind you. The three words you’d heard from him so many times over the years suddenly made your heartbeat quicken.

You both said this to each other almost daily, it was as instinctual as breathing at this point. You loved each other very much, as best friends tend to do. But now these words were hitting different. Really different.

And it scared the absolute fuck out of you.

Your brain was on high alert now, trying to sort out your feelings in your sleepy, still slightly fucked-out state. As you finally drifted off to sleep, the only thing you wanted to focus on was how nice it felt to be in Jungkook’s arms.

#bts #bts smut #jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jungkook scenarios

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scarecrow-supremacy · 3 years

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A/N: Oookieee, so I decided to start writing a new fic bc I have great ideas for a story line. Yet I can’t bring myself I writing an actual beginning. Like I’ve already written some random chapters, but I can’t do anything with them because they don’t really make much sense without the context of the rest of the fic/my ideas. Like this chapters is where the romance/actual x reader gets into actual action. Hopefully you get the gist of what the plot is, and aren’t confused as hell from this part. Sorry if it’s a bit long, it’s around 4.8k-ish words. Enjoy 💜

Hatake Kakashi wasn't one to celebrate his birthday.

He simply thought that they were foolish excuses to let loose and party. To Kakashi, birthdays were no reason to be happy and celebrate. They were just reminders of how long he had endured the pain of living. Each year marked another without the people he once held close in his heart. His father, his sensei, his teammates, and (y/n)...

The day that (y/n) gone on that horrible mission was his special day. The mission he was supposed to go on, but (y/n) filled in for because she wanted him to go celebrate with Gai and the others. So much for having the day of joy...Kakashi thought to himself mournfully.

With a great sigh, he grabbed the last of his belonging, shoving them in his mission pack. He'd promised to take his students out of a group mission for the day, but it had been mostly for selfish reasons. Kakashi had hoped that this would take his mind off of the weight in his soul, yet knowing that his efforts would be futile. The loss would never leave him, it would always follow him like a darned shadow. It would forever haunt him. There was not letting go of the horrors of his past.

Slowly, Kakashi strolled to the gates of Konoha to meet his kids, shoving his hands in his pockets as he mumbled a little tune under his breath. The dark cloudy sky and drizzling rain seemed to mirror how he felt inside.

Drip, drop. Drop, drop. Drop, drop.

Each raindrop fell upon the dirt paths of the town, dampening Kakashi's Jonin uniform. If only he'd gone on that mission, if only he hadn't let (y/n) take his place. If only so many things that happened hadn't. If only he felt whole again. He could feel the heavyweight of guilt on his shoulders, spreading pain throughout his body. Sure, Team 7 filled the void, but they could only do so much. If there is one thing I wish for, it is that these kids will grow up to be happy.

A soft smile played upon Kakashi's face as he approached the three teens. "KAKASHI-SENSEI!" His hyperactive blonde student, Uzumaki Naruto, yelled at him, "YOU'RE LATE-TTEBAYO!" He raised his fist in anger. Sakura glared at both Kakashi and Naruto, slapping the boy's back to calm him down. Off to the side stood Sasuke, his hands in his pockets as he briefly kicked the dirt and pebbles around him to form his clan's symbol. "Usuratonkachi," he grumbled at the group. To be honest, Kakashi did feel a little guilty about keeping the kids waiting for him. They were being held back just because he was wallowing in self-pity. And Kakashi felt ashamed of that; ordering his mind to push his thoughts further to the back of his mind.

Kotetsu and Izumo, guards of the gates, turned to the team and smiled in greeting. "The gate opening mechanism is broken, so we have to manually open the gates," they explained. "Heading out yet again, eh?" Kotetsu chuckled. "I thought you lot just came back from a mission. Ya leaving so soon?" Izumo asked. Naruto pumped his hand into the air, "Yeah! Dattebayo! It's only a C rank, but it'll be fun-ttebayo!"

He's a lot like you, eh Obito, Kakashi's mind wandered as he looked up at the clouded sky, a drop of rain fell upon his nose and slid down his mask. If only you, Minato-sensei, and Rin were here to see us in action. You would be proud.

But what about (y/n)? Part of Kakashi was surprised that he didn't think of her immediately. Did he still believe that she could've been alive? After the Hokage had told him that he'd lost contact with (y/n), Kakashi didn't know what to think. It had been 3,650 days since she left. 3,589 since she was supposed to come back. And 3,529 days since they fully lost contact. What were the chances she'd come back, alive or injured? Kakashi wanted to believe that she was still alive. Was that realistic?

"She's gone, Kakashi! You need to understand that!" He flashed back to when Asuma, Gai, and Kurenai had tried to slap some sense into him. Well actually, Kurenai had slapped him. "Kakashi-sensei?" Sakura gently tugged his sleeve, straining her arm up so her red umbrella would also cover his head. "Are you okay? You've been spacing out a lot lately." She whispered as she looked up at him.

"I'm fine, Rin," Kakashi weakly smiled, "It's nothing that you should worry about." Sakura flashed him a questioning look, "Rin?" Sucking the air, Kakashi's whole body tensed up, "Sorry." He looked away, turning his attention to the bickering Sasuke and Naruto. "Just a little mix-up, Sakura." He put on a fake smile, breaking up the boy's fight. "Let's go, shall we?"

"Alright! Shanaroo!"

"Dattebayo!"

Kotetsu and Izumo went to open the gates but stopped to exchange worrisome glances. "Someone just knocked from the other side of the gates. Which is weird because our list says that we shouldn't be expecting anybody." Izumo knit his eyebrows together. Kotetsu, who had been looking through a glass which allowed him to see the incomer, hastily urging Izumo to help him. "ANBU!" He had barked at his partner, "Bleeding! Dying, wounds, whatever! They need medical attention!" That had caught Kakashi's attention, he got ready to act as the guards opened up the gates, heaving on the rusted hinges. Yet he was not mentally prepared for what awaited on the other side of the grand doors.

There she stood. Uniform torn, stained and ripped up. The wakizashi sword that was strapped to her hip was blunt and scratched, the sheath dented. Skin scratched and bruised, wounds dripping with blood and gore. A long x shaped cut on the inner side of her left thigh. Gasping and choking for air, she started to wobble, blood dribbling down her limbs and stomach. The rain continued to fall, now hard and heavy; burning and searing the wounds of the lady. Yet she still managed to keep her face from wavering In an instant, Kakashi recognized who the woman was based on her cracked porcelain ANBU mask. (y/n).... "Sakura! Go alert the hospital. And you two boys, clear the way for Sakura so she can get there. Quickly!" Kakashi ordered them as he took the heavily wounded woman in his arms. Anger and fear coursed through Kakashi's veins as his heart thumped erratically. He could feel (y/n)'s body twitch in pain. "Izumo, go let Hokage-sama know that Ibara-hime has returned." Kakashi let out one last demand before zipping off to follow his kids.

"Kakashi..." (y/n) mumbled out his name, "Kakashi..." she shakily rose her hands up to gently cup his masked cheeks. "What is it?" He whispered, gently rubbing her skin through a torn patch of her ripped uniform. "Happy birthday, Hatake..." She softly breathed, her tight grip of Kakashi's chest loosened as her eyes dropped closed. Please don't die, (y/n)... I've waited all the fucking years. You aren't leaving me again. A tear formed in Kakashi's eye, flying off with the rain as he bolted towards the hospital. Stay with me a bit longer, will you?

"My sensei will be here any second with an ANBU woman in need of immediate medical attention!" Kakashi heard Sakura's voice quiver as he barged into the hospital. "I'm here, kids. Go to Gai-sensei and stay with him until I'm back." He quickly barked, flashing all of the nurses who flowed into the room a nervous look. "Please, help her. I'm begging you." He pleaded with the staff uncharacteristically. I need her to live. Need. "We do what we can, sir." One of the medic-nin nodded, putting (y/n)'s unconscious body onto the stretcher. If (y/n) lives, that would be the best birthday gift ever.

Kakashi jogged after the nurses and doctors, peering into the emergency clinic room through the window. "I'm sorry, Sir, but you won't be able to visit the lady until all the major injuries have been cleaned up and treated." A male nurse out his hand in his shoulder from behind. "But..! Okay..." Kakashi let out a sigh, "Isn't there any paperwork that needs to be filled out?"

The nurse shook his head, "The Hokage has come and is speaking to one of my colleagues about it. Don't worry about it. You won't have to take care of any of that." He tried to reassure the angsty shinobi, "The woman is part of the ANBU ranks, right? Her mask is of the uniform." Kakashi nodded his head, biting his lip inside of his mask, "Yeah...she is... but it's kinda complicated." The nurse raised his eyebrow but just shrugged. "Can I speak with the Hokage?" The Hatake requested. "Come this way," the other man sighed, leading him away.

Kakashi let out a deep and long sigh as he held (y/n)'s scraped hand in his gloved ones. He had been told by the same nurse from before that (y/n) was in a decent state to accept visitors, yet was still unconscious. He could tell that the nurse was hiding something from him, but he was too worried about (y/n) to give it a second thought. Hesitantly, he brought her hand to his masked lips, gently pressing them against the fabric. "Ya know, (y/n). After you left, I decided to give those goddamn books a try. And you're right, they are addictive. Thanks for the gift," Kakashi sadly chuckled before pausing for a moment.

"Those books, they helped me a lot. They helped me get through my days, just like you told me."

"They also helped me realize something. They helped me realize that I don't hate you. I don't want to hate, and I never should've."

"I've realized that I was such a dick to you at the beginning and that it was all my fault that our relationship became how it was. I regret it... So when you wake up again, I just want to start over again. Maybe not entirely, but just so that we can leave all the hate behind us. How does that sound?"

Kakashi stared at the sleeping (y/n), her chest heaving up and how slowly and rhythmically. It hurt him to see her like that, her skin swollen in the places of the stitches and anointed bruises. "Listen, (y/n). I'd never been able to tell this to you while you're conscious, so I might as well let it out now. I...I love you." Kakashi rightly shut his uncovered eye. "After feeling your loss, my dumbass self finally realized how much you are worth. After they pass on, you and the others were all I had left. But then you also left me, that hurt like hell." His tone started to break.

"Lord Hokage told me about the whole fake-death move, and I was relieved that you weren't gone for good. And then we lost contact, everybody assumed the mission had been finished, and your squad sacrificed your lives for it. I couldn't let the fact that you could be a dead sink in. It didn't feel right. Gai, Asuma, and Kurenai tried to get me out of another depression cycle. Kurenai even went to the lengths of quite literally slapping some sense into me." Kakashi played with a loose strand of (y/n)'s (h/c) hair.

The muscles of (y/n)'s hand twitched ever so slightly. Kakashi's drooping head snapped up; he'd almost fallen asleep in the chair. "(y/n)?" He murmured as her eyes started to flutter, "(y/n)?"

(y/n) chapped lip parted ever so slowly, taking a big breath of air, her (e/c) eyes squinting. "Hatake..?" She shakily managed to mumbled, her voice hoarse and dry. She tried to prop herself up on the bed, but Kakashi eased her back into her resting position. "Rest, (y/n), you're not ready to stress yourself yet." Kakashi to her, "I'll be back with a nurse and some water for you, alright?" (y/n) opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She simply looked down and nodded.

Moments later, Kakashi came back with the nurse and water. "Here," he carefully put the cup to her lip, gently tipping the cup, "Good." He turned to the nurse, who seemed to be scribbling something down from the little monitor to his clipboard. Kakashi's eyes followed the cord attached to it, to the long x shaped hash in (y/n)'s inner left thigh. What worried Kakashi was the anxious look on the nurse's face.

"(l/n)-san, your vitals are doing alright, but you'll have to stay here for a night or two just so that we can keep an eye on something's that may need monitoring." He curtly nodded his head, "Lord Hokage wished to speak to you. So, sir, that means you may have to leave."

Kakashi tried to reason with the other man, but (y/n) reached to weakly squeeze his thigh. "It's okay, Hatake. You can just drop by later." (y/n) tried to smile. "Fine," Kakashi grumbled, leaving the room and letting Hiruzen in.

After what seemed like an eternity, Hiruzen came back out. "How's (y/n)?" Kakashi asked him impatiently. The Hokage put his hand on Kakashi's shoulder as if trying to soothe him, "She'll be better soon. Don't worry, alright." The silver-haired shinobi let out a small grunt, "I know that she'll get better with time. But what about now?"

Kakashi knew that Hiruzen loved (y/n) almost like a daughter, he cared about her deeply. Hence the elaborate cover-ups to protect (y/n) and her squad on the unconventionally lengthy mission. The Hatake could see the sadness that had tried to be tucked away in the Sarutobi's eyes. "The main concern of the moment is the poison in the gash on her left thigh. The medic-nins have tried to extract as much of it as possible, and try to find something that will counteract the effects." The elderly man explained to him. "Did they find an antidote?" Kakashi questioned.

"That is where the problem lies," Hiruzen explained, "There is a certain medicinal herb that is used alongside a jutsu to nullify the effects, as the poison has traces of chakra. We have a few medics on hand who support the skill to perform the jutsu, but we don't have the plant. Even so, that won't be a permanent cure." Kakashi knit his eyebrows together, "How would it not be a perfect cure? Plus, since there are traces of chakra, could we possibly track down the person who created the poison and make them fess up on the cure?" He questioned.

"Great thinking, but..." Hiruzen groaned, "(y/n) said that they performed a self-destruction jutsu just after striking her. He probably thought that it would be in their best interest to take their secrets to the grave with them." Kakashi cursed under his breath, "Fuck... This is terrible."

Hiruzen nodded in agreement, "No duh."

Kakashi's head shot up, "Uh?!"

The elder man's eyes widened, "Did I use the term correctly?! I'm trying to pick up on the phrases the kids are using these days..."

Kakashi gritted his teeth, "Right idea of the meaning, I guess. But the context and timing...wasn't quite fit." Looking ever so slightly dejected, "Oh...alright." Smoothening out the wrinkles in his robe and putting in his cob pipe, "Kakashi, if you are going to stay here with (y/n), could you at least pick up some good food. The food in the hospital canteen is quite bland." Kakashi nodded his head and obliged, only to be stopped in his tracks by Hiruzen.

"Kakashi, I'd like to ask you something?"

"What is it?"

"What caused your change in actions towards (y/n) change so much?"

"What do you mean?"

"I've observed you two whilst you were in the ANBU together, and you never got along that well. And suddenly you act so attached to her, Kakashi. You don't need to answer. It's just that as your leader, I want to understand what is going on in the heads of some of my most trusted people." Hiruzen explained to Kakashi, puffing out a cloud of smoke from his cob pipe.

Kakashi frowned from behind his mask, trying to figure out how to explain his change of feelings in a professional manner. "I think that after I was given the impression that she was gone, I noticed that I cared about her. It made me realize that I was wrong to not see how much she meant in my life." He tried, his voice fading off into a whisper. Hiruzen smiled and nodded, "You really are something else, Kakashi."

Kakashi silently strolled over to Ichiraku's to grab some takeout. The paper lanterns lit the nearly empty streets of Konoha, creating a soft and soothing ambiance. The smell of the rain and moisture still clung to the air, the dirt roads had muddy dampness to them. "Yo! Kakashi, my eternal rival!" A boisterous and friendly voice greeted the said man. "Hey, Gai," Kakashi responded, he noticed his students sitting alongside each other and gave them a quick wave and smile. Naruto and Lee were arguing about who'd get Sakura. Sakura insisted that Sasuke would come around in her favor. Sasuke was quietly eating his food. And Neji and Tenten were discussing a new sword they saw in the windowsill of a weaponry shop.

"I'll take two eggplant miso soups with brown rice noodles," Kakashi leaned over the counter space between Lee and Naruto to order his meal, also effectively stopping the argument. "Thanks, Ayame," he thanked the daughter of Teuchi, owner of the quaint place. "No problem, Kakashi-san!" She chirped.

"Kakashi?" Gai raised his brushy brow, "Your kids told me about what happened this morning..." Kakashi sighed and pulled him aside so that they were at a comfortable distance, "It was (y/n)..." he told his best friend, "She's back and in the hospital because she's not in good health at the moment. I just came here to pick up a meal for her." Kakashi watched as Gai's jaw dropped, "(Y/N) IS ALIVE!" He exclaimed a touch too loud for his eternal rival's taste, "CAN I MEET HER?!" Tears of youthful joy waterfalled down the jumpsuit-clad man's cheeks. "I'll see if you can come tomorrow, alright Gai." Gai smiled broadly, "This is very...unusual. Youthful, nonetheless!" He grinned.

Kakashi rubbed the back of his head and nodded, "I'm glad she's back..." he murmured barely loud enough for Gai to hear. Knowingly, Gai patted Kakashi's back. "Oh! Yeah! Happy birthday, my youthful rival!" He gently punched his comrade's shoulder. A smile formed on Kakashi's lips, "Thanks, Gai." He flashed his eccentric friend his signature close-eyed smile.

"I'll see you later."

"Bye, Kakashi! Have a good night!"

Knock knock, Kakashi rapt (y/n)'s door, "Can I come in?"

"Come in," (y/n) murmured, a small moan of pain escaping her lips, "Ouch..."

Kakashi quickly set the takeout on a little table, rushing to (y/n)'s side. He wrapped his arm tightly around her waist and helped her to the table. "I got us dinner because the food at the canteen isn't that good." He explained with a slight shrug. "Thanks, Hatake," a weak smile formed on her lips. The silvered-haired Jonin served them their meals. "Itadakimasu," they both mumbled.

Heavy tension filled the room as they ate in silence. (y/n) knew that Kakashi had his mask down, but didn't look up. "It's been a while..." Kakashi breathed, in hopes of hearing (y/n) speak, "Too long..." The kunoichi rested her forehead on her palm, "I- Yeah..." she mumbled, eyes growing classier by the second. So much for trying to start a conversation... Kakashi thought sadly as they resumed their meals without a word. The silence seemed to be killed him. Kami, it had been 10 goddamn years! 3650 days since he had gotten to talk to the woman. He missed her. Hell, he could even say that he missed all of their little spats. Hatake Kakashi missed everything about (y/n).

"I missed you..." was all Kakashi mumbled as he pushed his finished food away and pulled up his mask, "All these days, months, and years."

Hot tears slipped down (y/n)'s cheeks, forming a puddle on the table. "I-I came back be-because I didn't want-want to hurt you and the r-rest. Dying on passed down pain to the people who love you. I can't afford to c-carry the guilt of t-that." She mumbled shakily, "I promised to be back, a-and I held up the promise." Kakashi sadly smiled as he awkwardly reached under the table to gently caress (y/n)'s thigh.

"You care about others so much, but you should really take a moment to care about yourself, (y/n)." Kakashi scolded the injured kunoichi, "You had me scared for you; all those gashes and open wounds... You could've died," he knit his eyebrows together in worry. "Don't do that ever again."

(y/n)'s dull smile faltered as Kakashi spoke on, "Now you know how I felt when I saw you doing all those suicidal stunts back then on those missions. It was like you were in a hurry to die... I mean, I was too, but you did some seriously dumb shit," she giggled emptily. Kakashi sweat-dropped, "I see... I guess you are right..." (y/n) rolled her (e/c) eyes as the masked shinobi let out a drained sigh, "I'm always right, Hatake."

"Really, (l/n)? You've been through torturous pain, and you still act like a child." Kakashi groaned, "All these years..." (y/n) shot him a hard glare, "All these years and you still think you're in charge of me." He cast a confused look, "It's my duty to protect you, as a comrade." As a comrade... "I guess, but you're just annoying, Hatake," she huffed.

"I'm sorry about ruining your birthday with my arrival and stuff. I probably ruined your plans with those kids." (y/n) looked down, breaking the silence that had fallen upon them, "I could hear you guys through the gate; they seemed pumped about going out. I'm sorry, I didn't think about the flaws in my whole plan." Kakashi's head snapped up from its resting position on the table, "It's fine, they don't even know it's my birthday," he paused, "But you planned to come here? As in, today in particular. With all those injuries, (l/n), you should've just tried to take care of yourself. My birthday isn't as important as your health."

The (y/n) shook her head, "I was going to stay at a small village pretty far from here before finally coming home. I planned to just heal up there and see how things went from there. I even considered settling down there. But that just didn't feel right," (y/n) face set in a frown, "Once I realized that your birthday wasn't that far off, I decided that I couldn't stay and needed to come back. I doubted I would even live to be back. But here I am..." she said with a soft wince of pain. "It was terrible, I hated every second of it," Her (s/t) fingers made their way to the raw mark on her inner thigh, “I’d already lost so much; there was nothing for me to lose at that point.” Kakashi's face softened as he understood what she meant. (y/n) wasn't put in the mission alone, she had her team. They all must've been killed with time.

"Ouch!" (y/n) yelped as she let out a moan of pain, clenching the fabric of her hospital-issued pajama pants. “Shh..." Kakashi whispered into her ear, quickly leaning in to soothe her, "What's causing all this pain?" He asked with a frown as (y/n) bit her lip. "It's the thing in your thigh, right? Lord Hokage and the nurse told me a bit about it. But I still don't fully understand it and how it can't fully be cured."

(y/n) buried her face in her hands, "Oh..." She mumbled, "The poison can't de be removed because it's already been inside of me too long. And since it is laced with chakra, the properties of it aren't completely like normal poison." She blinked back the stinging agonizing tears in her eyes, "The herb that I need is just going to ease the effects in my body, whilst the jutsu will seal it from triggering anything that was layered in with the chakra." (y/n) explained. Kakashi could tell she was trying her hardest to keep her face straight, pushing back the pain and hurting inside. "The thing is–"

"What?" Kakashi asked the pained woman, his tone soft and soothing, "I can help if I know what's going on."

Warily, (y/n) agreed to speak on, "The place where the mission was stationed at was just underground of the nuke-nin outpost I was from. And the guy who poisonous me was one of the other kids' experiments were done on, along with me. He was a few years older than us, and his name was Hiroto Myoga. His parents were in owed debt to the rogues, they were forced into being test subjects until they died. Which left Hiroto in the nuke-nin's hands." She rubbed the temple of her head pushing away the images that sent a shiver down her spine, "Something similar had happened in the case of my parents and me. But unlike me, when the ANBU did the raid, Hiroto was snuck away just in time."

Kakashi's heart sank as he heard what she was telling him. (y/n) had never known much about her past, the damned curse seal had caused. “Since he was older than most of the other kids there, the nuke-nin's of the outpost decided that they needed to trust their information. It was all precautionary, just in case they were taken down. And that's just what happened. Hiroto was the one ordered to put memory restriction curse seals on us, the kids, before he fled to be underground, where the actual harm was being done. That meant that all this time Hiroto had been working in those old plans." (y/n) closed her eyes tightly, tears welling up in the corners of her eyes.

With a subtle groan, Kakashi supported (y/n) up from the chair and rested her in her cot. "Don't stress yourself, (y/n). You can just tell me later; it's getting late anyway." He told her. "It's fine, Hatake. Letting this out helps me feel better." She reassured him.

"The ANBU caught wind of suspicious activity in that area and decided to send out a squad to go check out. I overheard Danzō arguing with Lord Hokage about it, and got interested. It was really dumb, but I just wanted to go to learn more about what happened in my past. I learned, but that can with lots of twists and turns. 10 years of going undercover..." (y/n)'s (e/c) eyes met Kakashi's single uncovered black one, "It wasn't long before Hiroto became suspicious of us, slowly narrowing the group down till it was just me." (y/n) took a deep breath and continued, "After Hiroto killed himself in our final fight, my curse seal was lifted. That's how I suddenly was able to remember all of the past. All of it."

A pit formed in Kakashi's stomach as he watched (y/n) cry in silence. He wanted to help her feel better, he really did. But he was afraid that he'd make things worse; dealing with feelings just wasn't his thing. "I'm here for you, (l/n). We've been through so much together, you've helped me through it all," Kakashi tried to reassure her, "It's my turn to look after you. Please, just don't cry." He reached out his hand to brush a tear-off of her streaked cheeks.

“Are you okay with me staying here for the night?" Kakashi asked (y/n) as they sat at the bay window, looking down upon the empty moonlit streets of Konoha. The soft light cast down by the moon seemed to make everything look beautiful, serene, and at peace. "(l/n)?" He asked again, turning to look back at her. A gentle smile played on Kakashi's lips as he saw that she'd fallen asleep. (y/n) had been through so much throughout the day, she not only deserved to rest for a long time but also needed to. "Good night, (y/n)..." he carefully lifted the sleeping beauty and placed her on the cot. Sitting back at the bay seat, Kakashi took in a deep breath. "I love you."

She's finally back.

She's finally home.

190 notes · View notes

tomsrebeleyebrow · 4 years

Text

attraction | hs vampire au

moodboard made by me so don’t use pls

Pairing: Vampire!Harry x NewbornVampire!Reader

Warnings: major mention of blood, basically a slow burn with sexual tension/teasing, SMUT including unprotected sex (wrap it up before ya tap it), kids), voyeurism, oral (f receiving) and so much more, fluff and a tiny bit of angst

Word count: 10.9k (oops)

A/N: well... hi again? i guess?? 🙃 back from the dead agaaaain 🙌🏻 okay but i had a major writer block since my last one shot and oof, was it tough... but now i’m back! more relax and feeling inspired for halloween? so hope you will enjoy this special oneshot about one of my fav brit boys ❤️💞

masterlist | tag list

Somewhere near London, UK – year unknown.

Tonight was probably the worst one you ever experienced in your life – well, afterlife –, aside from being turned into a monstrous blood creature against your will just a few months ago. Despite your new inhuman abilities, the mob running and screaming after you still gains ground since you’re leaving a most vivid trail for them to follow.

Though your heart no longer has a normal pulse it feels as if each thump is excruciating pain. The obvious reason might be because you haven't been able to feed yourself properly since you've been... reborn. And so very little human blood was running through your veins because you couldn’t seem to control the hypnosis power. That’s why you’ve been sticking to animal blood but if you were honest, it didn’t give your body the same strength.

Now your body starts to grow heavier by the minute, along with a most painful throb to your fangs that threatens to turn you into a mindless monster that will slaughter aimlessly just to get fed. But that's not what you want. No. No. It may have been four or maybe five months since you could no longer be considered as normal, but still you thought of yourself as a human. And hurting any human was just not conceivable at all for you. You just couldn’t... But sometimes, even the biggest will in the world wasn’t enough anymore.

I feel so sick, I can't go on much longer...

If only these damn hunters knew I wasn't going to kill anyone...

All I wanted was some of her blood because she was alone... just a little bit...

Tears form in the corner of your eyes, feeling like a lost and hopeless child despite being in your twenties. Though you suppose you won’t age anymore now? Or maybe age in such a slow manor you will not be able to see the changes until dozens of years pass. You have no idea at all. The person whom turned you didn't even care to explain a damn thing and just left saying it would be “quite amusing to watch you struggle”.

Your fangs grit in anger just by remembering all this, remembering how and why you could have been so naive – stupid being the right word actually. Willing the tears away you jump into the nearest centenary oak on the side and climb as high as you possibly can. The leaves and branches obscure most of your body, making it easier to hide yourself as you wait in breathless silence for several long minutes. The humans bellow carry guns and crossbows, even torches with blistering fires waving in the cool British wind so hiding from them is definitely the best solution here.

They seem confuse at losing sight of you and your tracks, but the conversation you pick up with your improved hearing foretells how they believe you're still in the area. A tall man with a buff body and dirty blond hair seems the most knowledgeable and well prepared as he dictates how everyone should fan out to cover more space.

Sweat is now dripping all over your body in a way that lets you know your consciousness is going to fade if you don't feed yourself soon. So you use the little strength you have left to escape their sight, silently crawling from a branch to another to reach the next tree. Your senses are becoming dull as well and you know by now you’ll never be able to put up much of a fight if they spot you.

Since there is no one around right now, you decide it may be the best opportunity to climb down and try to get further away into the forest. However, you barely make it to the ground, crunching some leaves beneath your feet before a bullet was fired directly at you. With the quickest slam of your body to the ground, you avoid being hit. For the moment, at least.

“Don't let her get away!”

“Shoot her down! She's weak now!”

Your head shakes, body shivering in a sense of mixed cold and fear, hearing dozens of weapons getting loaded before bullets and arrows start whizzing your way, thanks the lords most of them missing you due to your astute senses. Like blondie said, you are now really weak and can’t help but fail to avoid all of them as one wooden arrow pierces through your shoulder, sending you tumbling to the floor with a screech of pain.

It hurts more than you expected it to, but you grit your teeth and yank it from your skin in one motion. The wound may not be that deep but you can feel blood oozing down your back, staining the fabric of your long dress. After forcing yourself to stand you try to keep running, but after a few steps your body succumbs to your fatigue and falls, noticing the humans have now formed a pretty wide circle around you to cut off every single path possible to escape.

If you weren't this weak and starving for blood, you could fight them off and get away but at this moment, that’s completely impossible. A man with long black hair approaches, extending his hand forward as he’s holding out a wooden cross. The closer he gets the more a headache pounds inside your head, causing you to hiss in agony, tears swelling in your eyes and claws scratching the muddy ground.

Is this the end?

I never got to really live...

I never got to properly love... Love in a way that was true and fulfilling.

A tear slides down your cheek but it's too late. Everyone readies their crossbows and guns to fire at the behest of the long raven haired man. Both of your eyes immediately clench shut, preparing for your upcoming death...

But it never came.

Suddenly, screams and several wet crunches invade your ears while your eyelids slide open the moment you feel an imposing shadow looming over your body. A broad but not too bulky back comes into view as you note a peculiar style of clothing, the vivid red suit they wear contrasting with the dark surrounding of the London outskirt. However the smell of fresh blood rushes through your nostrils, causing your eyes to pulsate and your fangs to throb hungrily.

“How dare you filthy humans attack one of my kind.”

A deep unfamiliar voice penetrates your skull, making you lift your head and discover a tall man with dark wavy hair. He slightly turns towards you, sending you a stoic yet piercing type of glare with intense scarlet pupils that causes goosebumps to bubble all over your body. You have no idea who he is but you can feel in your guts that not only he is indeed a vampire as well but that he's extremely powerful, as demonstrated from the way he dismembers two humans with the vicious dart forward and jerk of his hands. The corpses join the other four on the floor who you discover have their heads decapitated in a clean swipe, no jagged edging to the flesh around their torsos.

The imagery is whiteout a doubt disgusting to even look at, but it's even more appalling that all you can think about is how delicious all this river of bloody disaster smells and how exquisite it would be sliding down you throat. You start to salivate heavily with the madness of hunger, the extreme sensation almost completely overwhelming you but you try your best to hold yourself at bay.

“I didn't expect to see ya again thi' soon, Harry...” your blonde pursuer sighs, his facial expression clearly showing that now, tables have turned.

“I don't want to hear it" interrupts your saviour (at least you hope he is?), his intimidating hoarse voice bringing chills to everyone – you included – while still in front of you. “Leave right now, Niall or I won’t hesitate to rip off y’head too.”

The man named Harry flares all ten of his claws to life, also baring his fangs to definitely reveal that nothing of this was just for show. “'m sick of you killing my people. If they're slaughtering the humans, it would be different but this one–” He turns pointing his finger at you, “this girl hasn't killed anyone. I can smell it... You're chasin' her down for no reason.”

“T-That's not– she was attacking someone, dat's why she got caught–”

"If you speak one more word to me that isn't beggin' for your life followed by leaving, I'll rip all of your limbs before I even go for y’head.”

Harry and Niall stare each other down, the tension as shape as a knife. The human may know how to counter his vampire foe but in all likelihood with most of their numbers dead or bleeding to death, he's aware that right now he has not a single chance. And once again, cohabitation seems the only way to get out of here in one piece (hopefully).

“Fine... we'll be goin'. I know thi’ is yar territory mate, we crossed da border” Niall apologises, a hand over his chest and a small bow before telling his fellow hunters to retreat back to the city.

Though Harry isn't usually happy about letting humans go his posture is finally relaxing a bit, claws retracting as he death glares everyone down until they are no longer insight.

With a long and heaved sigh he fully turns around, finding you holding your head and gritting your fangs in disarray. It's quite clear you are probably not even aware of your surroundings, the blood shot vessels in your eyes telling the brunette your current state of hungriness. As soon as he's by your side in a blink of an eye, he bends down on his knees in front of you, pushing your own hands away so he can clutch your cheeks.

“Calm down, dear, relax your mind. Open your mouth and let me see your fangs, please.”

Though you whimper in uncertainty, that man in front of you is after all the vampire that slaughtered those humans to save you. So you still let him give a look at your small white fangs, your whole jawbone hurting as if you just got punched right in the face.

“I see they haven't grown completely... You must’ve been turned recently, am I right?”

Harry seems slightly angry, though you're not entirely sure it's directed at you but more at his findings. When he pulls back, you follow his body as he grabs a nearby severed arm and brings it back to you. His brows raise in surprise, not expecting this reaction when you whine and push it away, clearly disgusted by it.

“There’s no time to be picky anymore, darling. Y'need to stop thinkin' you're still human, so drink the blood.”

Your head slowly raises, panting as you stare right into his most mesmerising green eyes, some scarlet red from before still outlining his pupils, with your own sorrow filled orbs. Though Harry knows what that look represents, he could hold no sympathy for your lost humanity as he delicately brushes his hand through your hair before pushing the flesh into your mouth for your own good.

It only takes a second for your fight to disappear, the taste of blood that your veins and taste buds have longed for these last weeks finally flowing in your system. Like a wild beast your fangs sink deeper into the arms flesh, sucking and gulping greedily until it's nothing but a shrivelled and discolored severed limb.

The older vampire watches your irises glow with the brightness of your eye colour. In like a snap the strained vessels inside your sclera dissipate bits by bits, assuring that the wound on your back would heal after some minutes as well. Harry expected it when you flicker with your new found strength over to one of the corpses and starts bleeding it dry.

He stands here, crossing his arms over his classy red velvet suit while watching over you. Once he judges you had enough and didn't want you to become addicted in a way that would drive you insane, he carefully but still kind of strongly grab your wrist. You let a little hiss at him, defiantly, which makes him smirk in a way that lets admire his now noticeable dimples and handsome features. Within a few seconds you calm down but Harry is now holding both of your wrists in his grip

“Stay still, dear” was his command, simple yet strict so it feels like you have no choice but to obey.

After letting go of both of your hands once you calmed down, Harry cups your chin with his thumb and index finger, gently turning your head back and forth. You are not sure what the brunette is doing until he finds feint punctures on the side pale skin of you neck. The wound itself seems healed but you still have little small bruises.

“How long ago were you turned and who was it? Why are they not here watchin' over you?”

His array of questions makes you frown, wiggling free of his grasp just so you can huddle your hands around your trembling sorrow body, memories getting their way back into your brain. Memories you consider more as nightmares that keeps hunting you like a damn curse, only to remind you at each breath you take that nothing will be like it was before.

“He was... s-someone I cared about. We'd been seeing each other for a while, and then one day... H-he bit me... a-and forced his blood down my throat.” Telling the story doesn’t really make you feel any better, specially when you let Harry know that the man you trusted only wanted to watch you suffer for his own pleasure.

Seeing a newborn vampire like yourself, looking as lost and fragile as a deer into the wildness, really gets to him. Harry lived for countless centuries he forgot the exact number, but he definitely knows since day one that turning people was against the rules for the most part. At least turning someone and not helping them come into their new desires, powers and hunger. Honestly he is quite impressed you lasted so long on your own when he heard you say it has been nearly five months.

“Come this way, darlin'. The air reeks of human filth out her’.”

With a sudden but graceful turn the vampire starts walking away and finds it amusing how you scamper behind him like a lost puppy. Even your hand grabs the back of his velvety suit, like you dread the feeling of being alone. His comparison to you as newborn is not to be mean or even condescending. You are just so new to your turning that it is perfectly plausible to be scared and anxious about literally anything in your surrounding.

Harry doesn’t mind at all and pretty soon, you both are stepping deeper into the forest your attack happened for a good twenty minutes if not more. Then in front of you slowly appears what looks like a field, a large meadow embraced by the night and in its middle a quint little cottage. It looks nice and homey, but not what you first expected from a fearful creature like him.

“It's not a castle...”

The older vampire sneers at your remark and then turns to you, showing a surprisingly charming grin before pointing to the east. “My real home's far away from here, that's where the castle of y’stories will be. It's vast an' much larger than y'could possibly think, but I don't really fancy it.”

Your eyes blink curiously at him before gasping and pointing your finger in disbelief, a sudden realisation sticking your mind.

“O-Oh my god– are you from r-ro-royalty?!”

“You could say that” the brunette grins while pushing some curly locks back from his forehead. “Lord Harold Edward Styles, is what they call me. Harry for short.”

He merely cackles when your eyes start to swirl in confusion, before babbling nonstop that you didn't know and hope in the same breath with fearful eyes that he won’t kill you. Harry can’t help but frown at this, letting out a sigh.

“Come 'ere and tell me your name, dear. I have no reason to kill ya.”

For some reason, the peaceful and serious expression on his face feel trustworthy, offering his hand like a safety net he knows you need to feel secure. So after a small nibble of your bottom lip, you slowly place your petite hand in his and let him pull you inside his home.

“My name is (Y/N)... Thank you for saving me, my Lord.”

It honestly feels awkward to refer to him like that but maybe was it his rightful term? Being now a vampire yourself, you assume your “rank” is probably way lower than his so “serving” him seems... obvious, right? Yet anything that was happening since you began this new life was a matter of pure confusion to you, even more now since your new encounter with this vampire from royalty.

“You wanted to know who turned me... well, his name was Nick. I don't know if he's still around here, I'm sorry–”

“Just call me Harry, darlin’. I don't care at all for useless formalities unless y’break the rules or try to attack me.”

You viciously nod your head. Never would you do that, you still feel incredibly grateful and intimated by just being in his presence.

“The name sounds familiar as well. A fugitive whose turns 'umans against their will for dozens of years...” Harry mutters to himself, looking pissed that the enforcers in charge of catching people like that still haven't.

And so over the next few days, you learned about your new species in details and got a low down on all the rules you must do your best to follow at all costs. Harry even began to teach you about your abilities and how to tame your appetite for blood, though he commented once again that you were handling yourself well from the beginning.

Harry is for sure a mysterious man and doesn’t honestly act like someone whom is probably rightful King to the vampire’s world. It’s pretty clear he lived a long life while yours had just started. He appears to you as a ray of hopeful guidance in a world that becomes murky and malleable.

“(Y/N), dear, come 'ere.”

At his beckoning call, you place down the book you're reading and come to sit down next to him on the couch. At this point you've been staying with him in the cottage for a few months and knew what to expect when his hands approach your visage to cup your cheeks. Though it’s still a little embarrassing, but still you part your lips and let him examine your fangs like he has many times before ever since you met.

“They're just 'bout fully grown, since you've been fed regularly.”

Your head nod as his hands delicately slide away. It looks like there is something going on his mind, an internal struggle based on his body language that you get used to understand by now.

“Are you still havin' headaches and painful pulses?”

Honestly you wish to say no so he wouldn't worry. But the man likes the truth and only the truth as if the word is his middle name, and you own him that.

“Sometimes... but I'm fine right now. I thought it might be a form of withdraw?”

“You're not too far off. That piece of– person who turned ya didn't give you enough blood. Your human cells an' new vampire ones were basically fighting for dominance at the beginning, but it's clear which one will win in the end.”

Lifting his hand he uses the sharp claw of his index to slice a gash across his palm. Instantly his dark red blood pools in his grasp, before holding it out towards you.

“Drink.”

“I... c-can't?” It comes out as a question because you are indeed confused. “I mean– am I even allowed to? You're the vampire Lord after all... I–I don't want you to get in trouble–”

Harry chuckles immediately, like there isn’t a being alive that could punish him for breaking the rules. With a lift of his unharmed hand looping around your hip, he has you feeling all kind of dizzy when he clenches his fist and dripped his blood onto your plump pink lips.

“Just drink, dear. Maybe I need to start teachin' ya not to question my decisions, mmh?”

His words and your newfound position that has you sitting in his lap makes you feel bashful. You barely begin to lick your lips when the brunette lets you grab his hand to hold it up against your mouth. He feels your warm tongue lap lightly at first along his cold skin, before pursing against the wound and slowly starting to suck.

“That's it... You can sink y'fangs in if you want. The wound will heal faster than you think.”

You blink your big doe eyes at him, your face wondering without a word if all this is alright but you know Harry doesn’t want you to doubt him. Pulling back for just a second you take a breath and bare you fangs again, gently pressing into his skin enough to gulp a little more of his blood. As soon as he decides you had enough Harry pulls back and to your surprise, his wound and marks of your fangs both disappear within a few seconds.

The corners of his pale lips edge up, amused by your astonishment but he startles you with a reposition of your body before you can even realise anything. Now your legs are suddenly straddling either side of his hips, both of your hands pressing timidly at the turquoise suit covering his shoulders with confusion and shyness as the vampire brushes back your hair and leans down to your neck.

“My turn, now” his voice enticingly rasps against your skin. “We can replenish each other thi' way... though my blood is more to stabilise your vampire genes.”

Harry aires the hottest breath along your neck as he then bares his long fangs and sinks deeply into your flesh. You can’t help but gasp, but it sounds more like a moan that you aren’t completely aware of as he starts sucking your warm liquid.

“O-oh Harry–”

He smirks at your honesty, looping both of his hands around your backside. Within seconds he feels your own unsure sway, with the slow pet up against the back of his dark curls. It's been awhile since the brunette had a woman in his arms so his instincts and desires are telling him to take advantage of it.

But in the end Harry resolves against himself as you are still new to his world, and just wants to help you without adding strings. After a handful of seconds and a gulp or two of your sweet wine he pulls back, tenderly lapping up and down the holes until they heal properly and then help you sliding off his lap to make you sit next to him, catching sight of a shy blush of your cheeks and slightly faze expression.

“You shouldn't experience headaches anymore, darlin'” he begins almost too indifferently, “just don't do anything futile an' you’ll get used to bein' a vampire in no time.”

Next Harry sits up more comfortably, flattening his cream oversize pantsuits over his thighs as he side-eyes your cute expression – though is kind of displeased that you’re not looking at him anymore. But he does have to admit that teasing someone was such a nice sensation.

"I’m goin’ to make us some food, so relax in the meantime.”

You simply nod as an answer, definitely not trusting your voice since only stutters would come out if you try. But Harry doesn’t seem to pay attention to your lack of vocal answer, a satisfied expression on his face since he keeps enjoying the reactions you get over anything he does. And as much as he could simply use pressure to dominate and have you sweating in fear, all the man wants is a companion that won’t mind being at his side for awhile.

And so that's exactly who you became to the vampire.

Even after a few months and display that you were functioning perfectly as a vampire and could live on your own without trouble if you desired, you stayed. But the disheartened expression you showed him when Harry said you could leave struck a chord inside his chest. It was clear you thought he’s got tired of you or that you weren't allowed to stay with someone like him for very long because of his status.

Instantly the older vampire put a stop to any of those thoughts by saying that if you wanted to stay, you could. He wasn't kicking you out, he was only giving you the opportunity to leave and see the world by yourself. You were still a young and inexperienced vampire after all. Though the thought of traveling didn't sound like a bad idea, the year you spent with Harry up to this point had been very enjoyable. He held a most gentle yet imposing aura, which was only right since he was not just Lord in name but mostly in power. However that wasn't why you wanted to stay.

Harry had taken care of you and made you feel safe. The feeling you began to experience for him was new but somehow, you wanted to nurture the desire to be with him and make him happy if possible. The way he talked, teased, touched, held you in his grasp and let you feed off of him felt so intimate and somehow romantic.

In this respect time flew by and in a way felt like it had frozen since neither of you would show any signs of ageing. Both of you grew closer and found out that Harry was (surprisingly) a great cook, received visitors from the castle he told you about almost all the time and had a soft spot for the graceful beauty of nature. It was not that hard to tell because the brunette admitted right away that he enjoyed wandering outside the cottage, might be only to walk around or appreciate the first rays of dawn or sunset. And you could tell he took care to not trample the flowers under his steps and sometimes, you saw him watering the ones around his front porch. Some days you would even notice a new bouquet freshly gathered, settled in a Victorian style vase on the living room table. It was a small most insignificant trait, but you adored finding out those types of mannerisms.

“Harry?” you call softly with a thoughtful finger under your chin. At first you thought he was reading in his study since he had a nice little library, but the room was empty. Turning back, you check the living room and kitchen but they are both empty as well.

For a moment you wonder if he stepped out without saying – he's done it multiple times before. However you stop in front of his bedroom and get the feeling he might be taking a nap, another thing that isn’t uncommon. If he indeed is resting you don’t want to disturb him but after a small knock, you peak your head inside the room.

Low and behold there the brunette vampire is laying sprawled out on his bed, the silly thought that it should have been a coffin makes you giggle but you learned with him that many stereotypical aspects of vampires are so wrong – though it's true you can't walk in the sunlight, that crosses can cause pain and any significant damage to your body will kill you.

Now that you know he's asleep, you can't ask him what you wanted. Without getting too close you watch him sleep for a second and find his peaceful expression alleviating. Every now and then, you get the feeling the weight of the world was on his shoulders. And inside your heart, you know he was such a good man. After maybe a minute you turn back, ready to head out the room but his low and raspy voice calls out to you in a way that has you tripping over your own feet, bumping into the nearby wall.

“What is it, (Y/N)? Aren’t ya a bit clumsy, dear?” Harry snickers while sitting up, watching you rub your shoulder with a flustered expression.

From the look on your face and the way you avoid eye contact, he can clearly guess what you are bashfully unsure of if it's alright to ask of him.

“If you want to be fed, come ‘ere.”

The fact that Harry always knows what's on your mind is a little scary and reassuring at the same time because he has never used any of his power to harm you. With soft eyes, you step over to the right side of his bed and watch as he unbuttons the first few around the collar of his extravagant flowing shirt. As soon as his neck is exposed from the lacy collar, the vampire leans to the side beckoning you to take what you want without a word.

A gulp slides down your throat as you sit down on the edge of the bed. With the lift of your hands, you slowly push his pearly necklace up then press them on each of his shoulders before brushing your nose along his neck, fanning an ever soft breath against his skin with the bare of your fangs.

“I really like your personality, Harry... I-I’ve never met anyone like you.”

Your tender confession catches him off guard more than the actual prick of your fangs, not that any bite you'd already given him comes with very much force. The brunette can feel himself enjoying the way you suck his blood out of his system. It’s definitely a hard thing to play off for him right now, and it has actually been every single day you shared with him.

When you had a gulp or two you then part a little and tenderly kitten-like lap at your punctures, speeding up the healing process for him.

“... do you want to bite me as well?”

Though your cheeks are a little warm you show a most candid smile, brushing back your hair to display your neck for him just as he has done for you.

“I do, but... I'll decide where I want to bite ya. Just relax, darlin'.”

Despite a little confusion, you don’t mind the tug of your body closer to his own. Both of his unblinking emerald orbs glanced your body up and down in a way that makes you feel embarrassed. If he’s not going to bite your neck, where else is he going to sink his fangs?

The dress you have on is a simple long white off the shoulder variety that honestly displays some of your skin while still letting you look sweet and innocent. Honestly Harry likes it a lot – maybe a bit too much actually – just because he would wickedly enjoy defiling that imagery in his mind. You are a kind and sweet woman, a total sweetheart indeed, but the man already found out vividly that you liked pleasure just as much as anyone else does.

Without thinking very much his cold hand raises up against your right knee, the tail of your outfit covering it. The way you shyly bite your bottom lip with your fangs is a hell of a nice image. Harry only caresses a little bit along your inner thigh before sliding his hand under the fabric, and then rest it directly on your skin. Edging his head forward he startles you with the way he tugs down the middle of you dress with his fangs, until he can see perfectly between your cleavage.

The location Harry chose is so confusing that your frame jolts the moment the vampire sinks into your flesh. Both his hands are against your body, enjoying its shape as he gulps your sweet nectar greedily. He savours your startled grasp on his shirt but the uneven pulse he feels beneath your flesh encourages him to keep going, his now scarlet orbs flickering with heavier desire.

All it takes is another small tug to reveal your bare breasts to his lidded sight. By time you realise his lips are already pursed around the closest nipple, warmly lapping the flat of his tongue in a way that feels exquisite. Like the male vampire you quickly get caught up in the moment, leaning your head back to moan and enjoy the added fray of his hand squeezing the other breast.

For a moment, you briefly thinks about how his saliva and tongue are both so warm as they suckle and lick your skin, when his flesh is cold and pale like your own. The answer doesn’t matter specially as his fangs tease your little nub. It’s clear Harry can’t hold back no more, now sunking savagely into your mound.

“O-oh my–!”

A ripple of pure ecstasy slides all over your body, causing you to moan Harry’s name not just once but a couple of times. The pleasure is so unexpected yet your arms circle around his shoulders, curving along his fine muscles but that’s when he realises how he’s letting his lust for you take over him.

Abruptly the brunette detaches from you, a small pop making you gasp but for the most part your hazy expression questions him with such want that he has to look away for his own sanity. The unhindered view of your breasts really dulls all of his develop senses. It had been awhile since he felt such powerful sexual desire for a woman, definitely way too long since his body was apparently getting out of control and a mind of its own.

“Get out” Harry suddenly growls, making you frown and wonder what you’ve done wrong. “I didn't mean to do that– I just got caught up in trying to tease ya. If you're still hungry, go find a human.” When you don’t seem to move, still shocked at his harsh way of talking that rarely happen (in fact it never happens with you), the vampire turns his head back while flaring his menacing dark embers at you in a way that makes you tremble.

With a hurt expression you quickly cover your chest, trying to fix your dress the best you can before apologising like a hurt puppy and simply scamper at the speed of the light out of the room. Once alone, a now heavy silence settled in, Harry’s fists bowl-clawing his palms but it was the least he cared about. He didn’t mean to scare you, in fact he's been trying so hard not to use any of his powers on you.

The man is centuries older than you and shouldn't care about trivial feelings you may have, but both of you had such a good relationship since now and a part of him doesn’t want it to change... though Harry has always seen you as a beautiful woman. It’s not like he can’t admit that much at last, the man was kind of bad at expressing himself out loud most of the time. What he was most unsure about is if you really wanted him or if it was your vampire senses that tells you to submit to him like that.

With a heavy sigh he buttons his white shirt half way up, arranging his long and floating sleeves while deciding he should at least check on you. After all Harry won’t blame you for leaving if you want to create space between you two. Because now that he thinks about it, never did he ever speak to you like he did five minutes ago, and repeatedly calls himself a douche for that.

The thought quickly – and thankfully – dissipates the moment he steps into the hall and hears the running water from the shower inside your bedroom. A relived expression formed on his face, glad that you didn’t leave. Abandonment was something he was used to over the centuries and had lived through many times. It’s honestly a miracle it had been about three years at this point and you maintained a good playful relationship with each other – well, until a few moments ago.

Soundlessly, Harry edges down the hall and notices the door of your bedroom open. As he approaches towards it, he finds himself inside the room before advancing to the closed bathroom door. Now in front of it he closes his eyes and place his hand on the wooden doorframe. His senses are far more astute than your own so every subtle breath you take, movements through the water or flex of your hands as they rubbed soap against your pale body... he could picture it pretty vividly. Just imagining the curves of your body is turning him on, specially thanks to the welcomed sneak peak at your chest from earlier. His fingers silently curl around the door knob, a light voice in his head reminding him once again he should stop before reaching the point of no return, that he should leave you in peace to wash up and later and offer you a nice meal as an apology for being a complete jackass earlier.

However, he can't. His senses twinge with the soothing aroma of lavender tickling his nostrils, knowing that's the soap he got you some weeks ago. With the slowest of movement that you won’t hear nor sense if you don't focus on it, the brunette opens the door wide enough to allow him a peak through the crack.

The first thing his eyes drag over is your long dress crumpled on the floor along with a soft cotton pair of light blue panties. Without waiting a second longer he tilts up and gets a completely unhindered view of your backside. His eyes follow the dip of your spine to the soft plush curve of your ass and long legs. Just observing this much of you has him gulping down hungrily but the moment you turn, using both hands to accentuate your breasts and stomach, there is no path to return to. All Harry can do is pant an uneven breath as you sway the water over your womanly shapes, washing away the soapy sheen of bubbles and suds.

The content and relaxed hum you air echoes inside the small space of the glass shower, bringing the man goosebumps of delight like a moan without sexual inclination. The more he watches your body and the subtle move of your fingers, the more Harry can't stop his own from unzipping his pantsuit to free his cock. His strong fingers curl around his girth, slowly pumping himself up and down as he watches you bend over just a bit to let water cascade down your back. An instant burn of want invades his entire body, the desire to squeeze those fine cheeks or even offer you a naughty little spank not leaving his mind.

Harry watches your hands do exactly what he desires when they pet down your hips and accentuate the shape of your bottom, like the water feels particularly nice cascading against it. Honestly, the smirk can’t leave his face. You're incredibly and undeniably sexy in a most natural way, so why holding back? His palm squeezes the tip of his manhood with excited fervor, still watching you smile shyly at the barely noticeable bite marks on your chest. You like to an extreme when the brunette vampire bites you, there’s no denying this fact as you moaned it to him many times. And Harry has a feeling you would have let him go further if he didn’t get confused about his fantasies.

The claws of his other hand dig into the frame of the door, scratching it all up as he pumps himself with the unbearable desire he has inside his guts for you to touch him. It doesn't even have to be his cock, he'd be fine with you admiring his body like you have before or stroking through his hair with that soft content smile on your delicate pink lips.

Thoughts inside his head become more erotic when he looks up at the sound of your soft voice humming a little tune. Both of his now dark scarlet eyes end up focusing on your mouth and gritting his teeth in a haze of wanting to feel those plump appendages against his girth. The movement of your tongue and warmth of your throat he can picture so vividly bring him closer and closer to the edge with each squeeze along his base and tip.

He even finds the way you rinse your hair to be erotic because you look so whimsical. A thought of wanting to devour you in every single way possible is what officially sends him over the edge, causing him to grind his teeth and grunt your name as he comes all over his hand.

His mind is so cloudy and hazy he doesn't even care that you’ve finally noticed him. Your eyes widen in total surprise, but your complexion darkens at the lewd sight of his arousal dripping from his fingers. Your head turns away before you can implode from embarrassment, hot water still running along your naked skin. You can’t help the deepest thoughts running wild and wondering if Harry was watching you shower to eventually pleasure himself to your body while doing so.

“Don't act shy now, my dear. I'm about to join you.”

At first you blink in confusion, glancing back in his direction to watch as he shuts the bathroom door to be inside the room with you. This signature showing-dimples grin enlightens his face in a way that reveals his pearly white fangs, before letting his already oversize black pantsuits fall to the floor. Harry is pretty quick to unbutton his shirt again, the soft and almost see-through fabric sliding off his shoulder to cascade on the floor soon followed by his trousers and underpants, leaving him absolutely naked for your eyes only.

Harry is the most attractive man you've ever laid your eyes on. A tall and sculptured vampiric body that probably hasn't changed for hundreds of years. With a few steps forward the brunette is on the other side of the shower glass door and wraps his fingers around the handle, ready to erase any distance separating you both. He pauses his movement for a few seconds, letting both of you take in each other’s new found appearance and what might be about to happen.

“If I join you, (Y/N)” begins Harry almost in a whisper, his eyes never leaving yours, “... I won’t ever be able to leave ya alone.”

Your eyes rise in surprise, his expression reflective of how serious he was being. For a second or two you turn away, your hands covering your face which is giving him the impression you might be having second thoughts. Though the croak of your voice and the tender expression you offer when you slowly spin back proves how you've been able to constantly surprise him these past years.

“Is that a promise?"

Without a second thought Harry is right by your side and looming over you in a possessive dominating way. Both of his hands pet along the warm and wet edge of your stomach, before gripping your hips and tugging you completely into his body. Without pretence his expression represents just how much he enjoys your whole and can’t wait but brush some of your hair sticked on your face, assuring you he can't wait another second to kiss you.

The distance between you both closes with the warmest capture of your lips that quickly becomes some passionate tongue action. It honestly feels that divine you couldn't stop yourself from moaning into the kiss. The warmth of the water doubles nicely the little fire forming inside your guts, in a way that affirms you’ve never felt such a discombobulating kiss before.

Right away Harry greedily begins stroking, groping and petting every single supple curve your body has to offer. Even your own hands note the nice shape of his back and every defined dreamy muscle. His lips curve up as he tugs playfully at your bottom lip, the gentle way you appreciate his shape really has him feeling some type of way.

“Give yourself to me, darlin’, this time I won’t be holdin’ back.”

The air of his wanting rasp meets the underside of your chin, of which Harry is currently kissing his way down. With a press of both his hands on your lower back he has you arching and moaning as he licks between your breasts. When the vampire starts to nip at your plush skin, it’s even more overwhelming because not only is he pursing his lips but his tongue is gliding all over you. The flat of his wet muscle makes sure to whirl around the ridge of your nipple, assuring it’s perfectly erect before nibbling on it with his fangs.

“Oh Harry, that feels so good...”

Hearing your honest pleasure encourages him to absolutely cover your breasts in love bites both a literal and physical way, each mark more blissful than the next. Your mind becomes so consumed you don’t even know Harry is backing you up until you meet with the wet and slightly cold tiles.

Just looking up to admire the shower water perfectly cascading over his rippling muscles – his weirdly yet attractive inked skin on full display and usual necklaces in place – is the most blessed image you could wish for. This Adonis of a man looks so perfect that you lean up to offer him your own slow and sensual desire filled kiss. Little do you know he enjoys your initiative, specially since you’re kitty licking around his tongue.

Slowly Harry begins to take over such as his more dominate nature, but you oh so don’t mind. In fact you’re getting lost in the way his strong hands fondle and squish your chest. The thumb of his left hand even circled around the perky tip, while his middle and index on his other give you some slow pinches like he’s determined to have you mewling into his mouth.

“I must ‘ave been out of my mind to wait three fuckin’ years to ‘ave you...” Harry growls while baring his fangs, pressing into the top area of your shoulder. The bite he gives isn’t even painful since the puncture is slow and the suckle he drinks your blood feels so pleasurable.

“H-Harry, I’ve never felt any pain w-when you bite me” you start, stuttering from all his attention on you. “I-I thought I was weird, b-but I can't help but want so much more...”

Harry’s lips curve up against your skin as you let a louder and more frequent moan, not only because the vampire leaves deep red hickeys on your neck and collarbones, but because his hand slides down to rest between your legs.

The moment you sense it outlining your womanhood, you arch your back while clutching your hands tightly around his shoulders. Without waiting his index and middle finger caress your lower lips for just a second or two, before encouraging your legs to spread further apart so Harry can thrust them effortlessly into your core.

“A-ah– feels so good!”

Enraptured by your praise, Harry increases his rhythm and feels the thump of your slow heartbeat. His own is probably pulsing in the same way, it's been so long since the man felt this exhilarated. With a caress at your hip for you to steady, the wobble your legs frays at his kisses all over your breasts and even a slippery curl with his tongue down to your belly button.

By the time you try to follow what’s happening, the brunette is already on his knees between your legs, kissing nonstop at your inner thighs. Out of the corner of his eye you can tell Harry is actually watching himself glide his fingers in and out of your slippery folds. It should be embarrassing, but you find that more thrilling than anything else. He’s so passionate as a lover, the attention he gives being excruciatingly euphoric whatever he does.

“Earlier” his raspy voice mumbles against your thigh before he proceeds, “I was so tempted to push y'down an’ bite your thigh...”

As he licks hungrily at your skin, you recall how he caressed up your upper leg earlier, the touch offered when you woke him up was oddly intimate. It made you bashful since it was so sudden, but if he had done as he wanted you wouldn't have stopped him.

“Now I’ve a second chance... so don't mind if I do, darlin’.”

Your chest heaves with the warmth bubbling all over your skin as you watch the bare of his pointy sharp fangs and the immediate pierce into your inner thigh. A loud moan echoes around the shower, the vibrations prickling Harry’s ears and assuring he won’t part from your delectable flesh until he gives you his most vivid love bite.

Your head shakes at how all consuming the pleasure you’re gladly receiving feels. And as he sucks the sweet blood from your thigh, he doesn’t hesitate to add a third finger into your fold, now working a pace that lets you know in accurate detail that you're indeed incredibly wet. It’s not just the shower anymore, both of you know this for a fact. By now you have no problem admitting you’re turned on like a thousand lightbulbs.

“Your smell’s drivin’ me insane...!” came his lidded snarl, some little blood dripping down his chin but quickly washed away by the shower. Harry is darting for your womanhood like a famished animal, the instant curl of his fingers along your slit having you whimpering and yanking at his wet hair a bit too hard.

“F-fuck– I’m sorry Harry” you whimper out your sincere apologise along with a moan, the back of your head bumping on the tile wall as if the king of vampires like the one kneeling between your legs could get hurt from such a small type of friction. “It feels like I-I can't breath– feels so good!”

"If you're that out of it, y'can be rougher...”

His warm breath hazes over the sensitive bead of your clit, making you convulse in pleasurable disarray. With his hands taking a fist full of your ass, Harry pushes you deeper against his tongue to then curl it up and down. The sensation of him lapping against your slick inner walls has you seeing stars, knowing a man has never eaten you out so hungrily before.

With the constant pant of your moans filling the primal space inside his head, there is only one and simple desire he has: to make you cum on his tongue and no matter what, he will not pull away until you do. It’s more rewarding than you'll ever know to have your writhing body in his grasp, not just your trembling legs when he had the chance to have you innocently straddle him, but the arousal coating his lips and the subtle desire filled push of your hands that want him even deeper inside you were exciting in a maddening way.

“A-ah please Harry, I c-can't–!”

You are barely able to tell him how close you’re feeling right now, as drool ebbs heavily down your lips. Harry is already aware though because of the curl of your fingers, each tugging at his hair in your peak of utmost disorienting pleasure.

With a gentle pat over your soft wet body, he squishes both of your breasts and thrusts his red muscle in a most detail oriented type of way. Your praises grow in frequency as well, telling him how utterly euphoric you feels and how hot the knot in your stomach makes your skin burn, bringing you closer to your end. Everything kinda rushes to the tipping point with a pinch to your buds, causing the instant convulse of your folds and drench of your fluids flow down his chin, assuring the fangs in his mouth are vividly pulsating.

It takes everything not to sink in to your most sensitive body part. Harry manages to calm himself down with the caress of your hands falling limp, feeling one curve around his ear to hold him gently where he is. With the thought of how much he needs to claim you, the brunette gulps down your nectar and even laps the slippery sheen coating your slit.

As he raises back up to stand, all it takes is a small hazy blink for you to miss completely the way Harry yanks up both of your legs and positioned you right against his cock. “’m gonna take you hard an' fast– can't wait another second to make y'mine.”

Your lips part but all you’re able to say is a pant of his name, while coiling tightly around his neck and nodding your head.

“Have all of me, take me Harry–”

The vampire most certainly doesn’t have to be told twice, so without hesitation he thrusts deeply into your slippery folds. His speed is just as instantaneous as the pleasure you start to drown in. You never knew your voice could go so loud and high pitched until a man with much vigour and strength named Harry came along, thrusting his hips in a way that fills you to the brim with every movement he makes.

“S-Shit you're so fuckin' wet– so tight ‘round me, only for me–”

His fangs are on domineering display, getting off on your pleasurable honesty just as much as the throb of your tight folds. You don’t get to see his expression though as you leaned your head back again but this time caused by a every aggressive slam of your ass on his thighs. That gives him the perfect opportunity to enjoy your neck, so the vampire doesn’t mind.

Each electrifying kiss left on your skin feels exceptional, every sway of his hips lets you know he’s a well endowed man and quite honestly just being in his arms has you feeling this way. This man didn't have to save you or take you in and just could have gotten rid of your at any time. But the instant he's allowed you to stay and gave you a comforting space to get used to your knew desires and vampiric body.

There is a part of you that wishes you still has a conventional heartbeat just so you could feel how erratic it could be thundering against your ribcage. However, even without a human heartbeat you still knew you were excited beyond all belief. Just being able to run your hands along his shoulders, maybe even brush up against the back of his head has you feel like his long time lover.

“Fuck, I can't get enough of ya” Harry suddenly growls in madness, dropping one of your legs back against the floor while he pulled the other higher up and hold your thigh, basically watching himself rammed his thick cock into your body. There’re not a single word forming on the tip of your tongue other than whimpers and mewls of ecstasy.

His speed and precision to hit your most sensitive spots are probably only possible due to his improved senses and longevity. No doubt in your mind Harry probably had many past lovers before you but you don’t really care. He always tells you to live in the moment and not muddle through just because of your past.

“You're now a vampire, (Y/N). Act like one for your own sake.”

These are the words he told you over the past shared years together, which became your mantra to feel validated in your new life. Speaking of your new desires, your fangs are constantly throbbing and pulsating for the past minute, reason why your eyes have been glued to his neck and shoulder ever since. The need to bite him is so overwhelming that you simply don’t care to ask before diving forward to sink deeply into the space right bellow his ear.

“H-hah, y'little vixen– that feels so damn good, have your fill” the brunette encourages you with no malice but utter pleasure.

In fact he’s enjoying the twinge of your fangs so much his fervour keeps increasing. His hips edge even closer while his clawed hand takes a hold of your waist and starts slapping at your inner thighs in a way that have your arousal dripping profusely onto the shower floor.

You can’t stop yourself from moaning against his skin or salivating heavily as you absorb down his delectable blood. You swear his nectar tastes even more delicious then it ever has before, like the most finest aged wine. It's a thought you can barely focus on as you suddenly toss your head back, feeling yourself reach a most blissful end.

The moment Harry senses your insides clench repeatedly, he shoves his tongue down your throat and becomes enraptured in the way you meet his every slapping movements. Heavy saliva from both of you mixes together, dripping profusely down your chin as soon as you feels the deeply penetrating thrust of his cock slam into your womb. His arousal fills you to the brim in a way that makes you drift through euphoria.

After some time the brunette parts from your kissed swollen lips, a thin sheen of saliva still connects you together before quickly breaking when he licks his fine pale lips. The vampire smirks at you in complete satisfaction while ever slowly edging his girth away from your wall, not without admiring how thickly coated in your juices his manhood is. Maybe Harry even salaciously admires the dribble of your combined arousal from your slit, but it’s clear you are feeling utterly spent and can only keep yourself up by pressing a bit at his chest and shoulders, leaning your back against the tiles behind you.

With a soft expression that suits him so heavenly, Harry tenderly strokes his hands up your body while admiring once again the plush shape of your stomach, breasts and the slender trail up your neck to cup your soft cheeks. The smile you give him proves he’s offering all the affection he is able of with the sensual touch of your lips with his. This kiss is the slowest and most romantic you ever felt from him yet, while the brunette lifts you in his arms properly again before pulling away from the kiss.

“I'll help you dry off, dear. ‘think we've soaked in the shower long enough.”

“Thank you Harry” you thank him with a slight smile, your cheeks nuzzled into his wet chest before placing a kiss there that has him avoiding your gaze and wondering where a romance like this has been all his long life.

You sit still once he settles you on the sink counter, wiggling cutely as he dries you off with purposeful caresses of your more intimate body parts. When he also dries himself both of you get dressed – you into the long nightdress you took before your shower and him back in his oversized pantsuits only. Afterwards, you take his hand as Harry walks you both out of your bathroom. It’s clear you wish for him to lay with you in your nearby bed but he hesitates at the edge of it, looking towards your still wide open door. It seems like Harry wants to escape but that’s not it at all. He is looking towards his study at the other side of the hallway where an item he had hidden was secretly and well kept.

“I'll be right back– hey, don't make that face, darlin’... I'll lay with ya when I come back.”

You lean into the palm of his warm hand that softly strokes your cheek, adding a hopeful nod. Your soft eyes trail behind his tall figure as Harry steps out into the hall, leaving your door cracked open behind him. With a little doubt forming in your heart you lay on the silk mattress of your bed and turn, rolling back and forth like a restless child waiting for time to fly as fast as possible.

It took him longer than he wanted as he struggled with whether this was the right thing to do or completely the opposite, tons of questions invading his mind: did you want him as much as he wanted you, and so should he trust you with a secret only a handful of the Royal vampires know? His hundreds of years differs so greatly from your barely twenty-five-ish ones. The brunette keeps rushing his thoughts because first, he wants you to be happy and second, he doesn’t want to be alone anymore.

With the item in his hands, Harry clenches his fingers tightly around it and makes his way back to your side. As he enters the silent room, smelling some faint aroma of lavender from your previous shared (hot) shower, you’re actually snoring softly while sprawled out in a way that takes up nearly the entire bed, which makes the brunette slightly chuckles at how silly yet adorable you are. He shakes his head with the soft expression you love so much on him, effortlessly scooting you further to one side before climbing in next to you.

For a couple of minutes Harry strokes your hair and caresses your skin, before taking your right hand and placing on your fourth finger a gold ring with a glimmering ruby jewel in its middle. Your eyes flicker open at the feeling, followed by a small yawn while watching the careful placement of your new jewellery with a bashful smile.

“... Are you asking me to marry you, Harry?”

His emerald eyes open wide in shock, skin darkening more than you thought a creature like him was capable of. Instantly the brunette uses your palm to cover his face and slowly shakes his head, the white pearl of his necklace softly jiggling around his neck at this. The breath from his parted lips tickles your skin and honestly makes you fall at peace.

“N-no– well n-not yet at least, uh–” Harry stutters, still hiding his face with your hand. He clears his throat before continuing “though this is my gift to you, love.”

You can’t see the way he actually bites his bottom lip, but your eyes notice both his hands covered in rings that he always wears. And one catches your attention, the one with a similar ruby jewel in the middle yet of a different shape.

“This will allow ya to walk 'round in the sunlight, this way it will no longer cause you any harm, my dear.”

“Really? But you said that it would always hurt...?”

“Without an amulet blessed an’ enchanted by a powerful witch, the sunlight will cause us vampires harm. That’s why you must always wear it.”

Harry lowers your combined hands so you’re finally able to see the serious expression on his face. “You must never tell anyone abou' this. Not a single soul, vampire or human alike, my dear. No one.”

“I would never cause you trouble, Harry. And I promise I'll take this secret to my grave” you respond back, arms sliding around his hips like a silent wish to lay your head against his bare torso, a motion which your lover gladly welcomes by sliding his fingers through your hair.

With a thankful smile you get comfortable, closing your eyes in hopes to snuggle with him while you sleep.

“People will not question it if y’tell them you were sired by me” proceeds the brunette vampire abasing your hair, fingers still entangled in your soft locks to massage your scalp. “It's a misconception tha' pure royal vampires are born immune to the hurtful rays of sunlight... Most of our kind think a person turned by us will also be immune.”

“I wish... I had been turned by you” you let out in a whisper while keeping your face nuzzle against Harry’s chest. “I want to be with you for as long as I'm able to.”

The vampire can’t resist but leave feather-like kisses on your forehead and hairline, your confession definitely making him feel... alive. His hot breath hitting your skin gently soothe you and so are his kisses, the sudden brush of his nose against your face bringing a delightful giggle out of you which Harry would never get tired of.

“Maybe I'll be the one to ask you to marry me, who knows...” you add, your index finger sliding over his pearl necklace with a define grin on your face.

No words could describe how you make Harry feel. Never has he been more grateful for the quick way you fall asleep just so he could hug you tightly against him. Maybe later, he will be able to tell you that, as surprising as that may sound, the man has never been married in his long life either. There has never been someone this special to him to go for it. It's indeed hard to say if Harry wants to make that commitment with you at this point either the thing he’s sure of is his wish - no, his desire to be with you. Forever.

“Good night, my love... Maybe tomorrow I’ll take ya to the castle y’ask me about all the time.”

* * *

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courtofcravings · 4 years

Text

Another you (2)

Warning: Some blood, needles, minor injuries.

Completed.

“Also, Y/N, you should call me Jim… Jim or Kirk.”

“But, Sir? Is that appropriate?” You asked him. You’ve never worked with a captain who was okay with being familiar around their inferior officers. “I think after today, it would be weird if you didn’t,” He said, looking down at you, smiling softly.

“Alright, Jim… Jim or Kirk,” You said, not as a question, but more to mock him like a dad joke. To which he laughed at, “Perfect,” He looked down at the phaser and back at the area you two were walking towards. “So what is this I hear about you not knowing how to use a phaser? Seems pretty standard for anyone going into the field,”

“That’s just it; I know the standard, and that phaser is anything but.” You two walked for a decent amount of time, as he explained to you what the different buttons do, even quizzing you on the important ones to ensure you can protect yourself.

“You know, Bones thinks that I should ask you out.” Your head whipped at him, of all things to come out of his mouth. “Does he?” You asked back, hiding a creeping blush. You refused to look at him, staring ahead. “He’s known I’ve had a crush on you for a while, although, after this morning when we tag-teamed him, he might have changed his opinion.”

“Might never want to see us together in the same room, let alone in a relationship.” You added. With a burst of courage, you asked, “How long have you had this crush, Jim?”

“Since the day Bones introduced us. You’ve had to see that I’ve been showing up at your lab way more often,”

“I thought you were just coming to bug Doctor McCoy in the lab while we worked on the research. Anytime you and I talked, it was always short conversations about the work.” You’ve always liked the captain, but you never believed he’d actually return those feelings.

“I was intimidated.” You stopped walking, “Why are you telling me this now?” You inquired. Does he think you won’t make it out? Off this planet?

“When you face a life or death situation, these confessions seem so pointless to hold back.” You stopped walking and turned to face him; you reached up and planted a small peck on his cheek. “Well, I’d have to agree with Bones; you should ask me out.”

Eventually, you two came across the nest, a large caved in whole in the ground, with small tents inside of it. “I thought this was a diplomatic mission; what did you guys do to piss off the natives?” You asked him, looking at all the different guards walking around.

“They aren’t the natives of this planet that we came to see; these new species killed or enslaved the natives of this planet.” You shivered, not from the icy air this planet had, but from the amount of death that must have occurred here. Jim gave you a reassuring squeeze.

He was freezing to touch, but you knew it wasn’t from the air; it was from the blood loss he’d suffered. He needed real medical attention and fast.

“Why did they take our crew?” You had a sinking feeling in your stomach, made even worse at the fact that you couldn’t see your missing crew. “Trophies of conquering, they will be slaves.”

Near the camp’s left side was a small metal rod hooked to a large box. “Jim,” You pointed at it, recognizing what it was immediately, “That is what is blocking our comms, our transporters. If I can get to it I c-” He scoffed, interrupting me. “Absolutely not, that area is surrounded by them, and you can’t even use a phaser,” He said, his blue eyes staring intensely into yours.

“Okay, and what is your grand plan? To run in guns blazing? You can’t even move without me supporting you, and don’t try to tell me you’re fine.” You returned using the same tone he had with you and the same look he was giving you. “I am well aware of the trauma your body is undergoing due to blood loss right now, so stop telling me you are fine because you aren’t.”

This morning you couldn’t imagine not addressing him by captain, and now you are snapping back at him. What a development. But you know you are still right, so you are not going to apologize.

“I have no idea what Bones was saying; you are much more like him than me.”

“What!? think first, do next?” You scoffed.

“Exactly, but with a bit more pessimism.”

“Your definition of realism and pessimism are confused. If I were pessimistic, there would have been no way I’d almost die trying to help you when you were tied up. With all that blood loss, there is no point in saving a dead man.”

“Come on, Y/N, we both know you only did that because you couldn’t handle this handsome face going to waste.” He said in your ear, making heat creep up to your cheeks.

“Maybe, I am more like Bones; I am starting to learn his bitterness for you,” You bit back. He smiled, looking pale. He needed medical help, and your arm wasn’t doing so well either. You had pushed back the pain while walking in the forest, but It was throbbing—pain radiating up your arm.

“Jim, let me. If I can take it down, you can use the comms. The ship can lock onto the crew and get them out,” You reasoned with him.

“Fine. But if it is too dicey Y/N, I want you to run; you haven’t trained in combat,” He was right; there wouldn’t be much you can do if they confronted you.

“Stay here,” You said, leaning him against a tree. “I really can’t go anywhere,” He replied. Right, at least it’s reassuring to know he can’t get into any trouble. “Be careful,” He said and placed a small kiss on your forehead. “I said it last time, and you didn’t listen, so I’ll repeat it as your captain, don’t do anything stupid.”

You snuck around the nest, hoping not to fall into any of the guard’s eye view. The grey antenna was sitting there waiting to be turned off by you.

Tiptoeing between the tents, you stopped dead in your tracks. You heard that woman’s voice from before talking, having a conversation with two other voices. In the tent to your right, they must have been in there. You took your phaser out and looked under the tight, lifting to see inside it. They were alone.

“You,” The woman said, “Y/N, the scientist.” You ran to her first, untying her, handing her a phaser, then moving to the next two, “The captain?” Sulu asked solemnly. “He is alive, barley. He lost a lot of blood. There is a device blocking the comms I need to take down so we can get out of here.” You informed them. It was mutually decided they should sit still since they were wounded and could possibly attract more attention by being in a larger group.

Making it to the box, you realized it was locked. As much as you wanted to do this quietly, it was out of your hands. This is extremely stupid. You lined up the phaser and shot it a few times until there was a thick hole in the box. You were, hopefully, powering it down so the comms will work.

You stepped back slightly, hitting a hard surface. No, not a surface; it was a body. In an instant, you were picked up and thrown into a wall, hitting your head and back. You couldn’t move but braced for a second impact.

It never came.

“Y/N!” You heard Jim say. Opening your eyes at the sound of his voice, you saw that you were on the ground, safe, in the transport bay. “I can’t believe we actually survived that,” There was blood dripping down your head, and your arm was throbbing, but you were alive.

“Always so pessimistic, Y/N; I knew the whole time we’d be fine.”

“Depends on your definition of fine; you have a hole in your leg, I personally would not call that fine,”

“There is no point in arguing with him, Y/N,” Bones said, walking in with a wheelchair for Jim. “Hey, what happened to don’t do anything stupid? I watched you get tossed.”

“Just thought to myself… hmm, what would Jim do? And as it turns out, it was stupid and dangerous.”

Jim went to make some snarky comeback but instead started to faint. You and bones both supported him and lowered him into the chair. “Sorry, guys, I guess I’m falling too hard for Y/N,”

“Only you would try to be a flirt went fainting from blood loss,” Bones responded. You couldn’t even look at him with your face so heated; you just stayed silent all the way down to Med bay.

Bones took Jim into a private room and began working on his leg. You didn’t know what to do, shower and rest or wait to make sure Jim is alright. “Excuse me, miss?” An older gentleman placed a hand on your shoulder, introducing himself as Dr. Jean. “Dr. McCoy told me to look at your head.”

“I’m really, okay,” Dr. Jean insisted, so you caved; you didn’t mind sitting down for a second. He cleaned up your head wound and did a concussion exam. It came back normal, so he cleared you. Honestly, you were tuckered out from today; you decided to sit and wait outside for Dr. McCoy and Jim. Being too tired to walk upstairs, you chose to close your eyes while waiting.

You felt someone gently shaking your shoulder, but you could barely move. You tried to open your eyes, but they felt too heavy. “What do you mean you cleared her!? Does she look okay to you?” You heard someone yell, no, not someone. “Doc..Doctor McCoy?” Someone beside you cupped your cheek. “Hey, Bones, she’s talking.” You knew that voice, but your felt brain so foggy. “Jim, tell me her heart rate,”

“Jim?” You felt a hand on your neck, “Ouch.” It was still bruised from today. “Bones, I can barely feel one,”

“Nurse Chapel, help me lift her,” You heard her ask more questions, but she was talking so fast, it was hard for your head to digest them. “Foggy” You felt out of breath from just those few words, making it harder to talk, “Doctor, my head,” The doctor and nurse laid you down.

“I’m Telling You, McCoy! She did not have a concussion.” Someone growled, “Pulse is thready and weak, not fully alert,” You were able to open your eyes slowly; everything around you much too bright.

You felt a comforting warmth touch your hand. “Vitals are not holding,” You looked at your hand; it was Jim. “You were,” You kept running out of breath “Jim, I think she’s talking to you, try to ask her-,” He looked between you and the doctor, “You were so cold when we,” You took a couple of rapid breaths, “But now you’re very warm.”

“Start her on an IV and 92% oxygen.” You noticed you couldn’t feel anything on your one arm, where the scratch is. “Doctor,” You spoke so much already, you felt so out of breath, “My arm,” Dr. McCoy stepped to the side to look at it. “Dammit,” He finished lifting your sleeve, “Jim, you said she scratched it? That looks infected, and her symptoms would suggest venom… maybe the plant was venomous?” He turned to order Nurse Chapel to do something.

You felt an oxygen mask go over your face; Jim was holding it. Finally, feeling like you can breathe and fill your lungs again, “You stayed with me?” Jim looked down at you, “Of course, couldn’t let Bones have all the glory,” He replied while glancing at bones, who was cleaning the wound.

“And here, I thought it was because you couldn’t let my beautiful face go to waste.”

“That contributed to it.” He gave you a small chaste kill on your forehead, brushing your hair out of the way of your face. “Y/N, Your wound has been thoroughly cleaned. Nurse Chapel is going to administer a remedy; it may make you drowsy” You reached your other hand to grab the doctor’s arm and gave a squeeze. “Your welcome, Darlin,” He said, dismissing himself.

“So when am I getting this date?”

“This doesn’t count!?” He asked, feigning surprise. “As much as I think it’s romantic that you almost bled out, and I almost died in a chair, I feel like others may disagree,”

“When you wake up,”

The doctor was right. You slept for about 16 hours while the anti-venom worked through your body. Besides your achy muscles, you were feeling great, energetic even.

“Y/N, you’re finally awake,” Bones walked in to greet you. I know someone will be happy to hear that. He will not stop bugging me about you. “Jim?” The doctor took some quick vitals on you before he felt okay to discharge you. “He has some trouble walking right now, so I sent him to rest. That, of course, has not stopped him from calling to check-in.”

“Can you do me a favor and not tell him I’m awake yet?” Bones gave you a curious look but agreed.

After showering and stopping by the cafeteria, you made it to his door—Ready for a real date. You heard the familiar chime that let him know someone was at the door, and you waited for the swoosh of the door.

It opened, and he was standing there, leaning on his crutch.

“I thought we could have our date, I was promised,” Holding up a bottle of whiskey and some warm fresh food in containers. “You’re awake!?” He signaled with his arm for you to walk in. “Bones didn’t tell me you were awake. Did he check you up before you left?” You set down the food and drinks, turning to face him. “Yes, of course,” He took a few steps over to you, a smile on his face.

“I thought it would be nicer as a surprise.” You wrapped your arms around his neck. “I brought food and drinks because I know your leg is still recovering; I hope that’s okay.” He cupped your cheek with one hand while tilting his head slightly and kissing you softly. He was bracing himself with his other hand against the wall, “Very much okay with me.”

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

#star trek imagine #star trek imagines #star trek x reader #star trek #james kirk imagine #james kirk imagines #james kirk x reader #jim kirk imagine #james kirk #jim kirk imagines #jim kirk x reader #kirk x reader

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canary3d-obsessed · 4 years

Text

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 17 second part

(Masterpost) (Previous Post) (Pinboard)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!!

Breaking Good

Wen Qing comes to visit Wen Ning in their backyard meth lab, and tells him that he fucked up a recipe, merely by taking a whiff of the concoction. She uses the approved "wave fumes toward self" way of smelling that you learn in high school science if you live in a country that believes in teaching science, which OP does not.

Wen Ning wants to know if they are going to have a feud, and she tells him there already is one. She tells explains to him that they're good Wens, not evil Wens, and that Jiang Cheng is fucked, and they should send the Jiangs away in the morning before Wen Chao comes around.

Wen Ning whines at her about all of this, shifting into little-brother persona and acting like he didn't just take down 40 of Wen Chao's soldiers in a single night. He does this same persona shifting in his later unlife, with Wei Wuxian. When there is trouble, he's extremely effective, and can even tail WWX and Lan Wangji without getting caught, but then he is hopeless when dealing with turnips or children.

Here, it seems like a version of Wei Wuxian's own little-brother persona, in which he pretends to be helpless so that his sister can take care of him.

#studyblr

Wei Wuxian comes into Wen Qing's head shop to ask her for medical books. He loves his brother so much he's volunteering for a research project. We've seen him be clever before; we've seen circumstantial evidence that he's a good student, but now we're going to see him actually buckling down and doing intellectual work.

Wen Qing thinks its hopeless and wants Wei Wuxian to get some rest. But he gives her puppydog eyes, so she sets him up in her library.

Wei Wuxian reads a huge pile of medical books and learns interesting things about the human body.

(more after the cut)

Hopefully he does not splotch ink all over them while he holds this wet brush directly over the page. Why does he even have a brush in his hand? Is he taking notes in the margin?

Wen Qing eventually tells him to take a break and go see Jiang Yanli.

Segmentation fault (core dumped)

Jiang Yanli is tending to Jiang Cheng, gently telling him to suck it up by citing their father, which is probably not the greatest idea.

Yanli's wearing dark blue with white and looks awesome. It's not Gusu Lan blue, but the blue and white is an interesting choice for the excruciating heart to heart they're about to have.

Wei Wuxian shows up looking terrible, or the Xiao Zhan version of terrible, i.e. handsome and a little scruffy. But also worn out, unhappy, and fragile.

Jiang Yanli wants him to rest, but he wants to find a way to repair Jiang Cheng's core, and his mind races, trying to think of where he can get books and who can help him. His thoughts instantly go to Cloud Recesses and Lan Wangji. His face lights up at the thought that Lan Wangji will help him, and he hops up, ready to dash off and find him.

The first time I watched this I was like, dude yes you’re in love, but you can’t just dash off to find Lan Wangji, not when there’s a war on. This time I was like, actually wow things would turn out a whole lot better if you got Lan Wangji to help you, instead of coming up with your own plan.

Mother Mother Can You Tell Me

Jiang Yanli tells him to slow his roll. He's pushing himself too hard and she's afraid he will collapse. Then Wei Wuxian comes out and says what's driving him: maybe all these disasters are his fault.

It's telling, I think, that he cites Madame Yu, not Jiang Cheng, in this moment, even though Jiang Cheng has blamed him much more thoroughly and consistently. He's talking about one mother figure, to another mother figure, and looking for absolution.

He super does not get what he's looking for.

Jiang Yanli slowly lets go of him and goes the fuck off. She asks, rhetorically, what he's to blame for, and then lists off all of the shit that's happened. She finishes up by saying, look at our situation; blaming won't help anything.

It's unclear, because language/translation, if her answer is "it doesn't matter who's to blame" I.E. "yes, it's your fault, but I'm letting it go" or if she is saying "how does blaming yourself help anything?" I.E. "it's not your fault, stop being a drama llama."

Her body language, though, seems pretty blameful - she lets go of him, yells at him, sits down and turns away from him. And his reaction is not one of shared grief, or of someone who is trying to get over himself; he's totally crushed, and he literally never unburdens himself to her again. Even when he asks her, much later, about love, he immediately backs out of the conversation.

There is no violence in this moment and her reaction is understandable, but this is kind of similar to that one time when his brother choked him in a beautiful field of grass, in order to make himself feel better.

Then she kind of relents and takes his hand, telling him that she needs him and reminding him that he promised that they will go back to Lotus Pier. I don't remember him promising this, but okay.

He puts his head on her lap and he cries, she cries, comatose Jiang Cheng cries; FUCK this episode.

Jiang Cheng manages to cry only one tear and does it on the side of his face that his siblings can't see because he's not going to give them the satisfaction of sharing this moment with him, I guess.

When Wei Wuxian puts his head on Jiang Yanli's lap, it's part of a ritual for them, that they both are comforted by; he does it again much later, after they return to Lotus Pier. But this ritual does not actually do anything to relieve his burdens. As a male adult, and the only Jiang Clan disciple with any abilities, it falls to him to save the clan, whatever it takes, and he is heavily aware of it.

Wen Qing comes along and sees the sweet part of this complicated Shijie-Shidi dynamic, and decides to help with Wei Wuxian's research project. When the trio had just lost their parents, gotten sick, been pursued by enemies, & had one of Yanli's little brothers horribly wounded, Wen Qing was like, eh, I'll do the doctor stuff but that's it. But lap-crying is another level.

Wen Qing: Nooo don't put your head on her knees I failed my saving throw

Group Project

Wen Qing goes and cleans up the mess in the library, putting everything in order and settling in to read systematically. Wen Qing probably has the prettiest bullet journal. (OP looks proudly at the 100 loose slips of paper and piles of random stuff on her own desk)

Wei Wuxian has shaved and rested and comes in with a tray of food for Wen Qing, and then goes to his table in the back to start working. He claims he made "porridge" for her and that she has to eat to gain strength, and she gives him an intrigued expression. This moment is just blatant het baiting.

In fact the food he brings her is clearly not porridge, which might just be a translation error, but also he totally can't cook, so it's not clear if he's joking and Yanli or Wen Ning made the food, or if this is just inedible.

The Things We Do For Love

Yanli is working in the meth lab and coughing a lot. Yanli's chronic illness is a sign of what's to come for Wei Wuxian, because strong cultivators don't get sick. Yet Yanli, as a physically vulnerable person, who has either a weak golden core, or none, is still intrinsically valuable. Her presence in this scene is a reminder that Jiang Cheng's life is not, actually, over; he just feels like it is.

While Yanli cooks the meth, Wei Wuxian and Wen Qing have a study montage that is the equivalent of a training montage, except without "Eye of the Tiger" on the soundtrack.

Jiang Cheng remains unconscious. Apparently if you stick nails in the top of someone's head, you make them sleep, and in the back of their head, you turn them into part of your zombie army. Fortunately Wen Qing's aim is good. Jiang Cheng is looking devastatingly handsome as usual the TV version of unwell, and has grown a perfect Dorito-chip of stubble on his chin to go with his new 'stache.

Eventually Wei Wuxian changes back into his non-vampire robe and he finds the answer in an old scroll book. The Ikea instruction picture shows arrows going from the guy on the left to the guy on the right. Clearly it's not a great procedure for the guy on the left.

Wei Wuxian's face shows us exactly how not great.

Like walking in the rain and the snow and there’s no place to go and you’re feeling like a part of you is dying

He goes outside and gazes up at the trees and the sky as he contemplates the sacrifice that circumstance is forcing on him. He's not even making a choice at this point; his choice was made the moment he found the procedure. But it's going to be a tremendous loss for him. He values sword cultivation at least as much as Jiang Cheng does; he even fell in love with a boy over crossed swords. So he sits and just kind of comes to terms with this new understanding of his future. (Big gifs here)

Wen Qing finds him sitting, stunned, on the porch. She doesn't know what's up so she just sits quietly with him until he's ready to tell her.

She doesn't love the plan.

Thunder, Th-th-thunder

Wen Ning is bringing food up when he sees them arguing, and he is startled by situationally appropriate thunder and lightning. Having recently watched The Lost Tomb Reboot I've come to expect thunder and lighting to appear on cue in any possible situation, so the fact that this mini-storm clears right up again doesn't bother me.

What About You?

Wen Ning dashes inside to see what Mom and Dad are fighting about. They're having a polite shouting match because Wen Qing refuses to yank out Wei Wuxian's core.

Wen Qing: I hate the idea of harming you Wei Wuxian: I don’t even understand that sentence

Wei Wuxian doesn’t, of course, feel that he is important in any way, and ignores her concerned and appalled expressions in favor of telling her to just do it anyway. Amazingly, this does not convince her.

OP’s 177cm-tall son keeps telling her this

Then Wei Wuxian plays the "you know Jiang Cheng" card, which...I guess she does? Maybe he was chatting her up more than we saw in Cloud Recesses? He hasn't given her the comb or anything yet. Wei Wuxian explains that Jiang Cheng cares about gain and loss, and cultivation is his life. If he can only be ordinary the rest of his life will be ruined.

Wen Qing asks the question that nobody ever asks him: What about you?

Wei Wuxian has literally nothing to say to that, possibly because the question is so new to him.

Wen Ning doesn't know what's going on but comes squarely in on team Wei, of course, and begs his sister to Do The Thing. How fucking horrified is Wen Ning going to be when he learns what The Thing is? What he is personally going to help do to his beloved friend? Yikes.

Wen Qing caves, warning them that the chance of success is only 50 percent. Wei Wuxian is happy to take those odds.

Lan Wangji, projecting his voice from Episode 46: fifty percent, are you fucking kidding me?

Soundtrack: 1. Mother Mother by Tracy Bonham 2. The Things We Do For Love by 10cc 3. Thunder by Imagine Dragons

#fytheuntamed #the untamed #the untamed gifs #wen qing #wen ning #restless rewatch the untamed #canary3d-original #my gifs #episode 17 #OMG this episode #god I miss lan wangji #warning: psychic pain

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alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer · 3 years

Text

all gone, all gone, all gone

part 4: well, no, i don't feel lighter

my crackfic is back, y'all!! and here to break my 3rd-chapter curse, in which every fic i've ever written ever, i've given up after exactly the 3rd chapter. hopefully the amnesia fic and the 5+1 can follow suit. i wanted to post something for thomastair week/alastair appreciation day, and this doesn't fully fit but i have too many WIPs and this was the closest thing. I've written most of part 5, which has some great thomastair action, so maybe i'll try to post that tonight as well

content warnings: suicide attempt, magical manipulation, implications of domestic violence

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Masterlist | AO3

They will never help you. Not even your sister takes your side, not in many months, years even. Do you think they would take you back now, like this? They preferred you floating dead in the Thames than fighting beside them even before I got my hands on you. They would use you and discard you in seconds. You are nothing to them, you never had been. Do you think your own mother would take you back knowing what you’ve done?

Alastair was clean again, free again. Those were the first words Belial had said to him after giving him a second chance. They repeated in his head now, deep in battle with the people he’d betrayed, the people who would betray him without hesitation. The people he should hold no loyalty towards.

But something else played in his head as well: a memory. He was 11, maybe 12, his sister slightly younger. They were playing hide and seek in the forest beyond Cirenworth. Alastair knew it was because his father was drunk and angry, and his mother had told him to get his sister out of the house. He was worried that she would get hurt attempting to calm him down, but Cordelia wasn’t. She was happy, she was laughing. She had no idea that anything could be wrong. She was elated for her brother to be playing with her. She wanted to run around and pick berries and eat them next to the lake a mile from their house.

He held tightly to the memory, as if it were a street he was sprinting down and if he made a single turn, he would never be able to find it again. It was the last thing he thought of before Belial returned to him, and it was a message he easily understood: this was the reason he was loyal to her, even when she betrayed him.

He had been so focused on his anger, his death wish, all of his own pain and heartbreak that he’d lost sight of what had sustained him all of his years: his sister. He survived on the knowledge that whatever happened to him, whatever abysmal fate was before him, his sister could have better. She deserved better. He could give it to her in whatever way possible.

He’d become distracted in his own pain, and Belial had preyed on that. Now, Alastair understood. It didn’t matter if Belial killed him or if he was sent away to the Basilias to waste away for the rest of his days or if he was stripped of his marks and never allowed to see his family again as long as Cordelia walked away in one piece.

Belial twirled Cortana in the air. “Good thing we have another Carstairs to wield it. Take care of her.” The blade flew into Alastair’s grasp. Cordelia winced and Lucie shrieked, charging towards Belial. They locked each other in a battle of magicks, but she wouldn’t last long, not against a Prince of Hell.

Alastair thought back to that memory, to the sound of her shrieks of laughter, of the flashes of deep, dark red hair between the trees as he chased her. He would rather die a thousand agonizing deaths than hurt her again. His mind told him that it was illogical, but he knew that it was correct. “You always wanted to be a hero, isn’t that what you said?” She looked hurt and confused, but more than anything, terrified. She needed to understand. There was only so much he could do; she needed to believe. “Do you believe you are a merciful hero?”

Realization flickered in her eyes of that memory from many years ago. “I try to be.”

Alastair couldn’t throw a sword and expect it to land safely in Cordelia’s grasp and without any demonic interception, nor did he wish to be within slashing distance of his sister with Belial in his head. Instead, he threw the sword upward.

Cordelia held out her hand and the blade flew into it, just as it had back in Devon. It fit firmly into Cordelia’s grasp just as Lucie collapsed.

“What-” Belial began. Alastair felt himself lifted into the air by an invisible hand around his neck. “-did you do?” Before he could answer, Cordelia started to move forward. The grip around his throat tightened and he couldn’t stop the strangled sound that followed. “Move another inch and I’ll snap his pretty little neck,” he warned. Cordelia froze.

“You should- have killed me-” Alastair choked out. “After Thomas.”

“You tricked me.”

“You wanted me- to give up. Should have known- I’m a talented- actor.” He could feel himself getting lightheaded attempting to speak, sacrificing the little air that he was still able to breathe.

“You think you’re so brilliant-”

“No. You’re- a fool. You- miscalculated.” He heard a shout down the corridor. If Cordelia was still holding Cortana when James arrived, there would be no way for Belial to win. Now was his only chance.

He heard a shriek as he flew through the air, colliding with a brick wall in a sickening crunch. The next thing he knew, he was on the ground. He opened his eyes just in time to watch Belial disintegrate at Cortana’s blade.

The world was blurry, and everything hurt. His body, but also - him. He was free. He was dying, but he was free.

Each breath hurt more and more, and he could taste blood in his mouth. He had at least several broken bones and a concussion, in addition to broken ribs and any internal injuries. He attempted to sit up but the bit of effort made his vision go black. Perhaps more than a concussion.

Suddenly, his sister's face was above him. "Stay with me," she begged. "Please, I need you. Please, hold on. Everything will be okay. We'll get you to the Institute and they will heal you and then we will figure out the rest. Please, I need you. I'm so sorry. I love you. I can't do this without you. Please, hold on, for me."

She should not be apologizing, he thought. I was the one who left her.

He tried. He tried to hold on. He had brief memories of the carriage riding, slipping in and out of consciousness.

Stay with me, she repeated.

I will, he tried to tell her, but no words came.

Then, he saw nothingness. The emptiness with which he was so familiar.

Then, he woke. He was in the infirmary. His whole body ached. He felt his stomach lurch as he remembered all that had happened the past two weeks.

Cordelia was sitting in a daze, not fully asleep, but not fully awake.

"I suppose this whole ordeal means that I am either very hard to kill or very bad at dying," he said weakly, startling her out of her stupor.

She glared at him. "Don't joke about such things! I would smack you were you not injured. I still might yet." She hurried to him and embraced him tightly. His body ached at her pull but he did not comment.

"How long has it been?"

"Three days since the fight."

"Is Lucie okay?"

She nodded. "It took her a bit to recover, but she's alright. There were other injuries, but somehow we all made it out in one piece."

"I'm so sorry, Cordelia," he said quietly.

"Shh, don't start that. It's alright. I just-" Her breath hitched for a moment. "I wish I had been able to see how much pain you were in. I wish I could have helped."

He shook his head. "No, I wouldn't have accepted it." He reached to cup her face in his hand but realized that his wrists were bound to restraints. Of course. He'd worked for Belial. He'd carried out unspeakable deeds for him. He'd kidnapped Thomas, even if he had freed him as well.

"They- they said they had to, that until you woke and they could assess the situation it would be necessary. I-"

"It's okay," he told her. "I understand."

"What are you going to tell them? About how... about what happened with Belial?"

He exhaled. "The truth. I will simply tell them the truth."

* * *

The Consul was apprehensive about allowing Alastair to take the Mortal Sword so soon after waking from his injuries, but he insisted that he would not speak without it. He only wanted to do this once. She reluctantly agreed, bringing the sword to the infirmary, along with the Inquisitor, the head of the Institute, and Sophie Lightwood as witness. He was unsure of how she’d gotten involved, but her presence somehow terrified him and soothed him at the same time. Cordelia was allowed to stay as well, as long as she did not interfere with the questioning.

The Mortal Sword burned through his body, aggravating his many wounds, but he’d felt worse. He answered their questions, explaining how Belial had held him over the Thames, threatening to drop him into the river as he brokered a deal with him. He conveniently left out the part that preceded. He attempted to describe what it was like to be under Belial’s spell, under his curse. He told them that he never wanted to hurt anyone. It was the truth, even under Belial’s influence.

“Thank you, Alastair. We’re almost finished,” Will told him. Alastair was unsure why he was asking the questions, he was sure that was meant to be the task of the Inquisitor, but whatever Will had done to earn the privilege, it seemed like he regretted it now. He was simply too empathetic. “Please allow me to clarify a few details. Belial, using Jesse Blackthorn’s body, pushed you off of Tower Bridge?”

Alastair grimaced, his answer burning in the back of his throat. He had hoped they would overlook this part. “No.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was already over the edge of the bridge.”

“I don’t understand.”

Alastair looked over to Cordelia who seemed ready to jump in on his behalf, though they both knew she was not allowed. “I- I jumped,” he confessed, relief washing over him, though he did not know if it was because of the sword. “I attempted to kill myself, but Belial stopped me.”

The Consul and Will Herondale looked at him in shock. Sophie Lightwood appeared guilty, but he had no idea what for. The Inquisitor was indifferent.

Will attempted to speak, the pain breaking through his eyes, but could not. The Consul stepped in instead. “I see. Is there any other information relevant to this ordeal?”

He was about to respond when Sophie spoke up. “What did Belial tell you about Barbara?” Ah, he realized. That was why she was here. That was why she was guilty.

“Sophie!” the Consul scolded.

“Mrs. Lightwood, that is entirely-” The Inquisitor began, but it was not a question Alastair was opposed to answering.

“Nothing,” he told her. “But I overheard him speaking to Tatiana. He called Barbara’s death his gift to her.”

Sophie’s solemn expression did not hold the surprise of the Consul’s or Will’s. Alastair was merely confirming what she already knew.

The Consul nudged Will forward to take the sword back from Alastair. “I believe we’re finished here. We will discuss the matter and return to you shortly.”

There was an uncomfortable silence as Will put away the Mortal Sword and they left the room, Sophie casting an apologetic glance back at him. The silence stayed between him and Cordelia as they waited. He believed before that if he could skirt around the truth, there was a chance he would walk free, even if he did not deserve it. Now, knowing that they knew the full truth, his stomach twisted at the thought of their decision.

Cordelia looked pale, and he knew she was thinking something similar. “I’m going to go get some water,” she said finally. It wasn’t even a convincing lie.

“Cordelia, what are you doing?”

She didn’t answer as she left the infirmary.

if any of this seems unrealistic, i don't care! i made this mess and i can deus ex machina it if i want to!!!

taglist (ask to be +/-, this is a different taglist than most of my content because of the triggers): @jem-nasium @littlx-songbxrd @fortheloveofthecarstairs @cant-think-of-anything @shadowrunner2000 @writeforjordelia @jurdan-my-beloved

Part 5

#cw suicide #alastair carstairs #thomastair week #tlh #the last hours #cordelia carstairs #all gone fic #fanfic #fanfiction

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imaginedhaven · 4 years

Text

Reluctantly Rooming: Part Twelve

Link to Masterpost

I didn’t think I’d have this done so quickly, but here we are!

Content/Warning: While not intended to be a main focus of the work, this chapter does contain discussion of sexual orientation and the revelation of a side character as a trans man (who is almost assuredly not trans in the original canon). While I definitely want to be as respectful as possible even though I’m only barely broaching the topic, I cannot claim to be trans myself, so if I’ve gotten something wrong in my admittedly-minimal talk about it please tell me!

Today’s prompts:

Aelin getting stood up for a date

and

Inappropriate exclamations during an innocent massage

~*~*~

Aelin crossed her legs, leaning forward with an interest she was struggling to feel. “So, Ilias, you said you’re here for work? What is it you do?”

Ilias grinned a little too sharply at her, amusement flashing in sea-green eyes. “I work in… private security. I’m afraid I can’t say more than that.”

“Right.” She began to fidget with the skewer that had held her drink’s cherry, searching for something else to say.

“You seem uncomfortable. Want to get out of here?”

Oh gods, was he really…? Yes, he was leaning in, and the way his eyes flitted down her torso and then back up meant he was saying exactly what she thought he was saying.

“You know, if I’m being honest I don’t know if this is going to work,” she blurted out. “I mean, with you being based so far west of here, and traveling all over for your work… I’m not looking for forever on a first date, but maybe something a bit more stable than that.”

Ilias’ brow furrowed, then he nodded with an easy grin. “Fair enough. I definitely can’t promise stable.”

~*~*~

It had been a while since Aelin had been on a date with a woman, but she knew without a doubt that wasn’t the cause of the nerves settling in the pit of her stomach as golden eyes flashed at her from the barstool beside her. “Can I ask you a question that’s probably a bit rude?”

Her companion—Manon, that was her name—merely raised an amused eyebrow.

Aelin blurted out the question that had been at the tip of her tongue for the past several minutes. “Do you find that people being both scared and turned on is a normal reaction around you, or is it just me?”

Manon smirked, flicking her platinum braid over her shoulder. “It’s what I aim for,” she replied with a flash of sharp teeth.

Aelin laughed. “Okay, if I’m being honest we’re probably a terrible romantic match, but I like you. This is probably weird, since we’re on what’s supposed to be a date, but I have this friend who I think would absolutely love you…” Aelin trailed off, scrolling through the pictures on her phone.

Pointed nails dug into her shoulder as Manon peered at the screen. “I’m interested.”

Aelin blinked. “I haven’t told you anything about Elide.”

“I can see what I need to know about her from the way she’s holding herself in that picture. I’m willing to meet if she is.”

“I’ll introduce you on the condition that you teach me that trick you used on the guy you passed on your way in.”

“Deal.”

“You’re the best.”

“I know.”

~*~*~

Aelin sighed from the corner of the bar, shaking her head as Lysandra gave her a questioning stare. Ress was late. Incredibly late, not just something she could attribute to traffic.

She swirled the whiskey in her glass, watching the amber liquid to stop herself from checking her phone for the fifth time in as many minutes. He would show up if and when he showed up, and she was determined to not be bothered by it even though it bothered her immensely.

Maybe she should take Lysandra up on her offer to set her up. It couldn’t be worse than her experience trying to find people on dating apps.

Finally, her phone chimed as the screen lit up with an unfamiliar number. Aelin, it’s Ress. I’m so sorry, but I don’t think I’ll be able to make it. There’s been a huge disaster at work and apparently I’m the one who gets to clean it up.

Aelin sighed. Well, at least he’d texted her.

~*~*~

“Three flops in as many weeks, Lysandra, I think I’m cursed.” Aelin sighed and nestled further into the couch. “I mean, I went on a run today to try and calm down. Who goes on runs?”

“Rowan goes on runs,” her friend replied wickedly. “And I told you from the start that dating apps were hit or miss. This isn’t college anymore.”

“I didn’t have to worry about it in college,” she reminded her.

“That’s right, you were doing that thing with Sam where you thought you were a lesbian and Sam hadn’t fully come to the realization that he was a guy yet. You know, I still can’t believe you two wound up staying friends after how that fell out.”

Aelin grimaced. Some days she couldn’t quite believe it, either; she had hardly been graceful about it in college. “It took a lot of distance and a lot of growing up,” she admitted. “And a lot of admitting that I said a lot of things I didn’t mean.”

“Anyhow, if you’re ready to hear my ideas, I could set you up with Archer.”

Aelin frowned, rubbing at a sudden cramp in her calf muscles. “Is that a person’s name, or a profession?”

“It’s his name. I can help you with that, if you want.” Lysandra leaned forward and took over, deftly massaging her leg.

“And how exactly do you know this Archer?”

“I worked with him at that massage parlor in Rifthold.”

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?” Lysandra’s brow furrowed in confusion.

Aelin scowled. “No one from Rifthold.”

Green eyes softened in understanding. “He’s not like—”

“I don’t care. No.”

Thankfully, her friend dropped it there, instead focusing on working the knot out of her sore muscles. “I could also set you up with Rowan.”

Aelin groaned. “Oh gods, Lys. No.”

“What do you have to lose?”

“My dignity? My ability to live with him, and therefore my home?” She turned her head just enough to glare at her friend, otherwise remaining practically boneless as she sprawled across the couch.

Lysandra laughed. “You think Aedion wouldn’t kick him out over you?”

“I don’t want it to come to that. So no, you’re not setting me up with him.”

“But you could go on runs together, and when you push yourself too hard he could probably carry you home.”

“You’re a terrible influence. Remind me why we’re friends again?”

“Because you’re a worse one,” her friend grinned. “Besides, I can do this.”

A few deft strokes of Lysandra’s hands had the tension leaving her leg, and she moaned in relief. “Gods, that feels so good.”

“See? Everyone likes my hands, they’re one of my best features.”

“Don’t get all smug with me—yes, right there!”

A loud noise near the doorway had them both freezing and looking over, only to discover that Rowan had gotten home early and looked absolutely mortified. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Aelin, you have a room.”

Aelin blushed hotly as she played back the last several moments of their conversation. Exactly how much had he heard? Hopefully it was just the last part; as awkward as it was, it was easier to explain than her misplaced attraction to him. “As trite as this sounds, it’s not what it looks like.”

“So you haven’t brought one of your recent dates home?” As odd as it was to think, she was relieved by the scowl on his face; the expression combined with his words indicated that he hadn’t heard them talking about him.

“Gods, no. This is Lysandra. From the bar, remember?”

Bless her, Lysandra stood and waved with a grin. She was less thrilled with what her friend proceeded to say, though. “Your friend here pushed too far running and hurt her leg. I was just helping with that.”

Immediately Rowan’s gaze fixated on her legs, obviously searching for any obvious sign of injury. Aelin sighed. “I’m fine, buzzard. It was just a muscle cramp.”

He nodded, the motion sharp and jerky, and strode into the kitchen, fetching a glass of water with almost mechanical precision. “I guarantee you didn’t drink enough water before you ran. This should help prevent it from coming back.”

She scowled, but obediently sipped from the glass after he handed it to her. “I thought you weren’t supposed to right before running. Doesn’t that upset your stomach?”

“I’m talking about yesterday, Aelin. You should be keeping well-hydrated on a daily basis if you’re going to take up running.”

“You just want me to drink more water,” she accused. “That sounds made up.”

“Just try it,” he replied. “You’ll thank me later.”

Her head jerked back toward the living area at the sound of a door closing, only to find that Lysandra had taken the opportunity to quietly let herself out. Her friend grinned and waved from the driveway when she saw her, clearly realizing she was caught and utterly unrepentant.

Aelin sighed and turned back to Rowan, who was watching her with an expression she couldn’t quite identify. “You’re really okay?” he asked.

She nodded. “I just needed something to help me not think for a while after these shit dates I’ve been on lately, and I’m told drinking alone is a sign of having a problem.”

The corner of his lips quirked up in the barest hint of a smile. “They must’ve been really bad, to make you consider running as a viable option.”

Aelin shrugged. “I mean, I’ve had worse, but I’ve also had better? It was just one miss after another, you know?”

He glanced at her again, then turned toward the refrigerator. “I think I have everything we need to make pasta, if that’ll help you feel better.”

“You’d actually make me pasta?” She frowned; there had to be some kind of catch. There was no way he would simply allow that many carbs to be on his stovetop at the same time.

“I would,” he replied, heading toward the pantry and grabbing…

“Wait, that’s not pasta,” she blurted out. Gods, she knew there was a catch.

He laughed, rolling up his sleeves before grabbing their eggs as well. “It’s not pasta yet.”

“You can’t seriously mean—” There was no way he was actually making pasta from scratch. There was a reason it came in boxes, she was sure of it.

“I can and I do. Now either stop talking and watch or get out of my kitchen.”

Aelin chose to watch, and the play of muscles in his forearms as he made and kneaded his own pasta dough was almost enough to make her forget about why she’d thought it was a good idea to try dating again in the first place.

Almost.

~*~*~

Tagging:

@ireallyshouldsleeprn @queen-of-glass @fangirlprincess09 @sassys-world @morganofthewildfire @superspiritfestival @perseusannabeth @sis-it-dont-add-up @jlinez @julemmaes @emilyoftheshadows @thegoddessofyou @mymultiversee @swankii-art-teacher @rowansfirebringer @livsdriverslicense @courtofjurdan @danibutterr @woollycat22 @rowaelinismyotp @sleeping-and-books @acciowests @stardelia @anidealiveson

#rowaelin #haven writes #reluctantly rooming

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athkatla · 3 years

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i always thought it was weird you couldn’t accuse astarion of being a vampire waaaaay earlier in the game (like, from the moment you met him) because... dude has fangs. and puncture wounds on his neck. and rarely sleeps. and is white as a sheet. and then the boar! and if you haven’t had it revealed by the time that you meet the monster hunter in the forest, like... hello!

so anyway this is my version of MC knowing astarion is a vampire and wanting to accommodate that but also not wanting to tell anyone else that astarion is a vampire because... that’s his secret to tell

“Did you find anything good?” Valexen stood next to Shadowheart. The cleric was rifling through a crate of supplies and occasionally she stopped to pluck something from the contents and place it gently into one of their packs.

“I did, surprisingly. We will have quite the feast for the next few days,” the woman said, sounding triumphant. “Take a look for yourself and try to dream up some dinner ideas.”

Val crouched near the bag, her red tail swishing inquisitively. Slowly she picked through the contents. There was a good bottle of wine, purple and orange carrots, a half-head of fresh cabbage, a whole melon, and-

Garlic.

With a quick glance to Shadowheart, who was still rummaging through crates, the tiefling plucked the garlic from the pack and attempted to nonchalantly place it near the base of the crate. She hoped that the cleric would not notice.

But of course she did.

“Did you-” Shadowheart asked, glancing down at the lone bulb of garlic. The dark-haired woman’s gaze shifted to the garlic-less pack. “Why did you take it out?”

“Oh, I thought it had gone bad,” Val said, clearing her throat.

Shadowheart inspected the garlic closely. “No, it’s fine,” she said, her dark eyes narrowing at Val. “Why did you take it out?”

“I’m - allergic,” she said lamely.

“You’re allergic to garlic? Why didn’t you just say that instead of being sneaky about it? Why would you hide that?”

Val crossed her arms over her chest. “Hey, aren’t you the one that hates questions? I’m not going to answer any of yours - you never answer any of mine.”

“Asking questions about my private missions is not the same as disclosing an allergy,” Shadowheart said with a scoff.

“An allergy?” Gale echoed. The wizard had been sorting through a scattered bunch of parchment, hoping for a magic scroll. Apparently his search had come up empty handed, as he now approached and joined the two women. “Who’s allergic to what?”

“Val here is apparently allergic to garlic,” Shadowheart said.

“Allergic?” Gale asked, eyebrows raising. “My deer stew had garlic in it.”

They were both looking at her now, Gale confused and Shadowheart suspicious. Briefly, Val’s fiery eyes glanced toward Astarion, who was very busy pretending to be cleaning off his daggers.

You little bastard, I’m doing this for you, the least you could do is back me up, she thought, but outwardly she only shrugged.

“Yes. And I was sick, later that night. Threw up all of it, I’m sorry to say. A tragedy, because it was so good and filling,” Val said smoothly, snapping her fingers as if she had just remembered something. “You never gave me that recipe. Maybe we should do it now. Can someone find a bit of parchment-”

Gale was too eager to scrawl down the basic recipe for her, making a list of every Kara-Tur spice that should be in the dish. Shadowheart watched them with narrowed eyes for a while, but eventually she tossed the papery garlic bulb back into the crate and the group moved on.

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

Several nights later, Val found herself covering for the vampire again, this time at camp around dinnertime.

Wyll approached, a bowl of hot soup in each hand. As he walked toward her, his gaze flickered to Astarion, who was lounging by his tent with a book in hand.

“Have you noticed that he never eats with us?” Wyll asked quietly, shifting one of the bowls into Val’s grasp as he sat next to her on her usual log. “Here you are.”

“Thanks,” she said. “And uh, no, I haven’t.”

That was a lie. She had, of course, noticed. She had also noticed how he slinked away from camp anytime the scent of garlic was in the air, she had noticed his aversion to running water, the fang marks on his neck, the exsanguinated boar-

Wyll gently blew on the hot contents of his bowl. “Sometimes I’ll try to give him a plate of something and he always says that he just ate or he’s not hungry,” he said. “When does he eat?”

“I’ve seen him eat,” Val assured him.

“Really?” Wyll asked in surprise. “When?”

“I don’t keep track of it, I’m not logging his eating habits in a journal,” she said with a small laugh. Wyll grinned, shrugging.

“Fair enough. I wonder why he doesn’t join us.”

“I think he might be too good for our food, if you know what I mean,” she said. Yes, that sounded believable. Astarion had a tendency to appreciate the finer things in life and had used the word peasants more than once. This would hopefully be a smooth lie. “I think he has a pack of his own food that he hoards away like a dragon.”

Wyll looked intrigued. “Got any goodies in there?”

“Oh, no, it’s all-” Val took a slurp of soup. “You know, rich people food.”

He laughed. “What’s rich people food?”

“I thought you were the son of a nobleman,” she said, which made Wyll smile again. Val found herself grasping at straws suddenly. “You know. Chocolate from Maztica and... ah, caviar.”

“Chocolate and caviar?” he asked, making a face.

“Yeah. Just... junk.”

“Ugh. No wonder he’s so pale - man’s got scurvy.”

“Yeah,” she said slowly. Val did not feel the need to point out that scurvy tended to make a person’s skin yellow, not white. “Definitely.”

#baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #BG3 #astarion #my writing

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convindreamer · 3 years

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Mermay (Convin)

There are two types of merfolk: one that lives in the warm clear blue of the carol reefs and the other that lives in the colder darker depths. The ones that live in the warm waters look closer to human, apart from their tails; the ones that live in the cold waters have evolved to have webbed hands and scales on their torsos to help them swim faster. Connor is one of the warm water merfolk. Gavin is one of the cold water merfolk. They don’t mix. Cold water merfolk think the warm water dwellers are weak and soft and way too full of themselves. Warm water merfolk tell stories to their children at night that if they’re very bad the cold water dwellers will come and drag them down into the depths never to be seen again.

So ...

Gavin is out hunting for lunch, and he spots a particularly tasty looking red snapper so takes chase, his perfectly streamlined body torpedoing through the dim cold water; he snags his tail on yet another sharp rock outcrop, potentially adding to the numerous scars he already had along his tail and torso, but doesn’t stop until — he realises the water around him has got warmer, instantly making him uncomfortable. He looks up and realises that he’s closer to the surface than he should be and very far out of his own territory. The red snapper has gone and he’s surrounded by fish he doesn’t immediately recognise.

Needing to get his bearings he carefully climbs the nearest rock formation, his webbed fingers perfect for adhering to the craggy surface. The sun is hot and he closes his eyes and turns his head away from the blinding bright light. He shouldn’t have come up here. It wasn’t safe. He was too close to the land. Shielding his eyes from the sunlight he moved higher up out of the water and stopped, his heart beating a scared rhythm. There on a sandy rock, basking himself in the suns rays, was not only a warm water dwellers, but also the most breathtakingly beautiful mer he’d ever seen. Gavin could only stare, lifting himself higher on the rocks to see better. The mer was oblivious, enjoying the sea spray crashing on his tail and body.

Gavin caught sight of his webbed hands splayed on the rocks in front of him and shook his head, angry at himself for wasting his time daydreaming about this pretty poser. The twofers (this is what Gavin calls humans bc they have two legs) hunted in this area and if that dumb mer wasn’t careful he’d find his tail on the end of a hook, and himself carted off to some aquarium or other.

Gavin slunk back across the rocks and dove back into the too warm water. He was still hungry and the fish swimming around him were too small to do anything but dull the ache in his stomach. Damn that red snapper for getting away and leading him so far away from home. Gavin dove deeper, leaving the surface far below.

Several weeks later, Gavin’d almost completely forgotten about the pretty posing mer, with his perfect tail glinting into the sunlight, and his perfect smooth torso unmarked by a single scale, and his perfect hair swept back from his face — and then Gavin spotted a flash of movement above him, and it was him. The same mer he’d seen sunbathing beautifully on the sand, and he was swimming against the current, struggling to put distance between himself and the dark shadow of the twofer hunting vessel above. Gavin had seen this too many times not to know what was going to happen next. The twofers had obviously tagged the mer while he was on the surface and now they could pinpoint him with almost perfect accuracy. The harpoon came out of nowhere and pierced straight through the soft flesh of the mer’s tail, the hook catching and starting to drag him back and up. Gavin took chase, gaining speed, but the mechanism dragging the mer out of the ocean was faster. And then the mer grabbed onto a nearby rock outcrop and held on for dear life, the only problem being his stupid unwebbed fingers were useless at gripping and holding firm and soon he was only stopping his ascent by the skin of his finger tips.

Gavin saw the moment the mer saw him, he saw the instant flash of fear, but that didn’t stop him from pulling out his blade and hacking at the metal coil attached to the harpoon. The mer screamed in pain as the harpoon ripped deeper into his flesh but Gavin was intent only on getting him free. The metal quickly dulled his blade and Gavin threw it aside using his razor sharp teeth to bite through the last the few strands

The mer was free but had passed out due to the pain and Gavin did the only thing he knew to do and wrapped his arm around the mer’s waist speeding them away from the surface and down into the safety of the dark. Gavin couldn’t bring the top dweller home, he couldn’t be seen fraternising with their sort, so instead he took him to his private hideout.

The cave was small but they were still able to fit at a squeeze. Up close, this mer was even more beautiful than Gavin had thought, but he was bleeding out and Gavin went to work cleaning and disinfecting the wound, and he continued to keep the wound clean for the next day, only leaving to catch food, until the mer finally woke up.

Again Gavin saw that fear flash in his eyes, and his anger spiked.

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna eat you.”

The mer looked around them, taking in the cave, the supplies, his bandaged tail and finally looked back at Gavin.

“Thank you for saving me.”

“Whatever,” Gavin snapped and went out to catch some fish.

Connor, that was the pretty mer’s name. A pretty name for a pretty mer, and he liked to talk. He found everything of interest. All the unfamiliar fish that swam by, and their unfamiliar tastes. He marvelled at the lichen on the rocks and almost got his fingers caught in a few oyster shells as he reached in to get the pearl and they clamped shut. In the end, Gavin got him a pearl and Connor beamed at him so happily, it made Gavin’s stomach do funny little backflips. Connor almost died with happiness when Gigi, Gavin’s catfish, turned up to say hello.

“You’re not what I expected from, well, from a cold water dwellers.”

“You were going to say ‘webber’, weren’t you?’

Connor looked chastised.

“I’m sorry, it’s just, I’ve been told my whole life that your kind are dangerous. I was told your webbed hands were slimy. But they’re not. They feel so nice on my tail.”

Connor blushed and then so did Gavin.

“You shouldn’t believe everything you’re told.”

Connor was able to swim a little now without too much pain, his tail was healing nicely, and they’d swim together, their tails sometimes touching, Gavin showing Connor all his favourite places; but oddly enough, whenever Gavin brought up the idea that Connor could probably go home soon, a subject both of them had been avoiding, Connor’s wound would suddenly feel much worse and he’d go back to hiding in the cave.

“We both know you’re fine now.” Gavin bit out reluctantly.

“No, it still hurts.”

Gavin levelled a look at him.

“I don’t want to go.” Connor admitted. “I like it here, with you.”

“You can’t stay here, Connor.” Gavin muttered. “You don’t belong here.”

They both fell silent.

It was true.

Their kinds didn’t mix.

This was just a fluke.

An accident.

It was never supposed to happen.

But it had happened.

“We can carry on seeing each other.” Connor says hopefully. “I can come down, you can come up, and we’ll meet somewhere in the middle.”

Gavin did want that. He really did. But if his kind found out, he’d be ostracised. They already lived in a delicate balance and it wouldn’t take much to tip things over into the worse.

“It’s dangerous.”

“I like you.”

“We shouldn’t.”

“I want to keep seeing you.”

“Connor.”

“Please.”

“I’m sorry.”

Connor looked heartbroken but nodded, accepting Gavin’s decision.

“If you change your mind, I’ll be waiting.”

Gavin couldn’t take the risk despite how much he still wanted to see Connor, and he endured the next few angst filled weeks mourning his loss until he couldn’t take it anymore.

Going against his better judgement he swam as fast as possible to the rendezvous point Connor had given him, convinced that Connor wouldn’t be there, and his heart leapt when he saw that he was wrong. Connor was there, just as he’d promised to be, waiting patiently for Gavin. Gavin stopping, and did nothing more than float for the next few moments, just staring at his pretty mer, with his perfect tail and perfect torso and perfect hair that swept back from his face, and was just thankful that Connor hadn’t given up on him.

Gavin uncertainly approached and Connor turned slowly towards him and the smile that lit Connor’s face told him he’d made the right decision. Whatever came next, they’d face it, together.

And so they enter into a secret relationship, where they both have to be careful not to let anyone else know. Like Romeo and Juliet only in this one nobody dies and they all live happily ever after in the end.

#convin #gavin reed #dbh connor #rk800 #detroit become human #dbh #manips #my art #my manips #connor

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chironshorseass · 4 years

Note

idk if you’re still taking prompts but 7 angst for percabeth after BoTL but before tlo, thank you so much!!

idk what this is, but hopefully, it’s not too horrible bc I can’t bring myself to read it again lol.

“You should’ve said that yesterday.”

tw: blood

read on ao3

Plans don’t always go well. Annabeth should know; she’s a daughter of Athena. But one holds on to hope like it’s the last thing they have, even when accidents happen.

It was a frequent thing nowadays, for demigods to leave on missions as a desperate attempt to thwart off the titan forces. Annabeth understood the risks.

Percy did too, but he’d insisted that it was fine, that he needed to go.

He’d left with some Hephaestus and Hermes kids, intending to raid one of Kronos’ troops that had camped close to New York.

They hadn’t counted on the empousai, though. And because of this, most of the boys—including Percy—had nearly died.

But what else was new?

The thing was that...he didn't have to go. But he and Beckendorf had grown closer over the past year, so nothing could stop him from tagging along with the son of Hephaestus and the rest of the group. Maybe because he also felt bad that he’d missed out on most of the missions; he’d been absent for so long, lost in the streets of New York City.

Whatever the stupid reason was, he’d refused to listen to Annabeth, disappearing into the horizon with Blackjack and the rest of the pegasi.

He’ll survive, she’d told herself. If he really was the child of the prophecy, then…

This mission wouldn’t be the last thing he did. Or his last day on Earth. That title would likely belong to his birthday.

Gods, he’s going to die anyway.

But for now, he wouldn’t, at least not according to what she’d heard.

Thanatos would bide his time, hooded and standing at the doors between life and death, not yet ready to welcome Percy with his chilled breath.

Soon, but not today.

Still, it wasn’t like she’d been worried sick and then nearly threw up her lunch once the crew had arrived, a few yards away from the infirmary, bloodstained and battle-torn.

By all the extra load on the pegasi that she could make out from the distance, she supposed that at least they’d been successful.

Percy, however, was leaking blood down his neck, furtively trying to clamp it down with a bandana.

Soon, but not today.

He leaned against Beckendorf, his eyes baring clouds, fogged and lost. The son of Hephaestus helped him off of Blackjack, but still, he would’ve crumpled to the ground had it not been for Annabeth running to him like a madwoman. The grass crunched behind her; the others were right on her heels.

“What happened?” she cried, grabbing hold of Percy’s shoulders as his head slumped against her chest. She staggered back from his sudden weight, then righted herself.

“Hey, ‘Beth,” Percy said weakly, the words jumbling together against his lips and her shirt.

She looked at Beckendorf helplessly.

“Empousai,” he gasped, then made a hissing sound, pressing a hand to his back. It came back crimson red.

“You’re hurt!” she said as if it weren’t obvious.

Other demigods, Apollo kids mostly, rushed past her with medical supplies. But Will stopped next to them, breathing hard. He handed out ambrosia to Beckendorf and Annabeth’s waiting hands.

His eyes blazed, focused on something past her head. He waved frantically at someone, signaling them to come, and quickly. She whirled around and caught sight of Chiron trotting toward them.

“I’ll be back,” he breathed, giving them a nod as though they’d argued with him against it. He retreated a few steps, legs reacting to sudden howls of pain that echoed further back. “Just, just wait here. I’ll just…”

He dashed away, lost in the mass of pegasi and bodies that moved in all directions, shouting. In the chaos, Will was their only help at organizing it all—but she’d still tasted bile in her throat, not quite used to the way he ignored Percy and his mortal wound to the neck.

In a swift, mastered movement, Annabeth had made him chew on the Ambrosia. She’d been about to say something else—some words of encouragement—when a blur of curly brown hair nearly tripped her and Percy over. She readjusted him in her arms; Percy mumbled something incomprehensible, making her heart tighten.

“Charlie!” Silena called, flinging herself into Beckendorf’s arms.

He grunted in response but smiled through his obvious pain.

“Hey, baby,” he said.

She kissed him, but only for a second because Beckendorf had already pulled away faster than her sudden arrival.

Silena scrunched up her eyebrows. “What’s wrong?”

His concerned gaze leached into Percy, whom Annabeth could barely hold now.

Has he always been this heavy?

She followed her boyfriend’s line of vision and saw her friend standing in front of her for the first time. Her face morphed into shock, eyes widening. In a flash, Silena was there, hauling one of Percy’s arms over her shoulder. He was no longer conscious.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, the words tumbling into the pool that was now Annabeth’s fevered heart. “I didn’t...”

Annabeth could only shake her head. She had to get Percy some actual help. She pressed the cloth harder into his neck. It had to be the fucking neck.

“Will!” she shouted, voice hoarse. “Chiron!”

Panting, Beckendorf closed the distance, limping over to Annabeth. “I’m going to help the others. We weren’t so lucky on our mission, and...” He glanced somewhere past them. “Chiron’s coming our way. We have to—”

Silena inhaled sharply. “You’re bleeding, too? Why didn’t—”

“No time, ‘Lena.”

In an instant, Chiron was there, extending his arms out.

“Give him to me.” His voice was firm and urgent.

After all, the neck was a highly vulnerable place. A slit to the throat could end someone’s life in a matter of seconds. Percy was a demigod, and likely the cut hadn’t been too deep, or else he’d be dead by now. But still, she didn't know how much longer he could hold up.

Already she’d felt the tell-tale warmth of blood trickling into her skin, already she’d envisioned the life draining out of him. The sand of an hourglass raining, spilling down to the bottom.

;

They’d told her that he’d lost too much blood, that the claw wound had just barely hit an artery. But above all else, he was lucky. He’d survive.

She’d been there, hands washed clean from the rusted blood, sitting on his bedside in the infirmary and watching him sleep while her mind was wide awake. Will came and went, wrapping bandages and giving him fresh doses of ambrosia; Chiron did, too—as if none of this was his fault and he could pretend to care for injured demigods.

But she stayed. Stayed and watched.

Annabeth had forgotten how long she’d been there, staring at the blank walls, eyes unfocused. Will had poked his head inside for the final time and insisted for her to get some sleep; it was late. She’d shaken her head and refused.

Her eyes closed for a second, though it must’ve been longer than that, because, when she opened them again, golden light had already streamed through the window. It cast delicate shadows across the room. In her daze, she hadn’t realized that someone was calling her name, light as a butterfly.

Percy.

“Annabeth,” he repeated.

She blinked the sleep away to find a pair of green eyes watching her.

Though his hair was twisted and knotted, and his complexion was a worrying shade lighter, Annabeth thought that she’d never seen a more inviting sight.

“You asshole!” she gasped, lunging forwards with desperate fingers, hugging Percy tighter than she’d ever had in her life.

After a while, his head dropped back to the pillow to get a better look at her.

“Hey.” He grinned lazily.

There was a sweet wonder to his face—like he couldn’t believe she was here, waiting for him to wake up.

But her mind flashed to when his heartbeat had weakened, when scarlet red covered her shaking hands and she’d seen him slump into Chiron as their teacher dropped him here, in the infirmary.

“D’you have any idea how fucking worried I was?”

His brows knit in confusion. “What do you…” A hand flew to his neck, to his bandages. “Oh. That.”

“Yeah.” Her voice felt like rough sandpaper. “That.”

Percy winced. “Okay, okay. I can explain; that demon came out of nowhere, right? And I slashed and shit, but she still got me, and—”

“You could’ve died, Percy. You get that?”

“I know, I know! But I didn’t!”

She took a rattling breath and looked away. She suddenly felt faint; her lungs didn’t seem to gather enough oxygen. Everything was too overwhelming, too big and small all at the same time.

She was dimly aware of Percy saying something. Then, she felt the warmth of her hand in his. It helped bring her back, but barely.

“Hey. Hey, look at me, Annabeth. Look at me.” Reluctantly, she did as he said. “Breathe with me. C'mon—in two three four, out two three four...”

Annabeth didn’t know how long they stayed that way, anchored to the surety of Percy’s grip on her hand and breathing along to his rhythm, until she’d found a way back to her bearings.

“You’re okay. I’m okay,” he said, repeatedly.

She nodded.

“Talk to me.”

Here he was, the boy who had nearly died, consoling the girl who’d watched the whole thing.

She nodded again, and this time, she closed her eyes, taking in some of this new peace of mind Percy had offered.

He was safe, and they were alright.

Finally, she exhaled.

“How’re you feeling?” She bit her lip, remembering something, and then muttered, “Sorry. Didn’t really ask you that first.”

“S’okay.” Now that she noticed him, truly noticed him, she could tell how tired he was. “I’m fine. Just feel like mush.”

“Your neck doesn’t hurt? Will gave you some morphine.”

“Yeah, no. Everything’s kinda numb, I guess. Doesn’t hurt or anything.”

“You lost a lot of blood.”

“Hmm. Probably why I feel like mush.”

She felt a lump forming in her throat. Not for the first time that day.

“It wasn’t—Gods, Perce,” she murmured, not meeting his eyes. “If you’d only seen it…”

“I know. I should’ve listened to you.”

“You should’ve said that yesterday.”

Annabeth didn’t realize that she was crying until Percy softly flicked his thumb across her cheek. He reluctantly moved it down to her lips, swiping at the tears that had already pooled there.

It wasn’t really something she planned to do, and in any other case would’ve embarrassed her, but she found herself resting her forehead against his. Maybe to steady herself. Maybe to feel his presence more, a spare hand combing through his locks.

She wasn’t so sure.

But still, she let herself close her eyes, enjoying this moment of quiet. Percy did too, sighing softly, rubbing her back idly.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, when they separated. “M’here.”

Her breath caught in her throat, just by how tender his touch had been, taking care of her when he was the injured one. How close they were at that moment. How her tears tasted like that time she’d kissed him, all salt and sweat and fervor.

Now, she was able to see the little flecks of blue in his irises, drink in all of his details like she was dying of thirst. They were so close that she was able to feel exactly when his breath hitched like hers had done just milliseconds before, how it smelled like medicine and chocolate cookies all in one.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, not taking his gaze from her. “I didn’t listen to you.”

At least he acknowledged it. Again.

“No. You didn’t.”

His thumb still lingered on her face, a ray of sunlight that she greedily took only for herself, leaning into him. It ghosted around her skin, that trailing touch of his. And despite its warmth, it sent shivers down her spine.

His eyes never left hers. Roving, feeling down to her very soul.

He’d always been the one to break her walls, destroy the dam she’d carefully built for as long as she could remember. Poseidon wasn’t his father for nothing.

And as he grasped a stray curl that fell across her left eye, tucking it ever so gently behind her ear, she felt that water roaring all over her mind. The flood happened too fast, consuming every last restraint and denial that crossed its path.

Annabeth didn’t catch it until she risked a glance to his lips.

Gods, he’s so close. Too close.

In the blink of an eye, she was leaning in, intoxicated by everything about him. Percy caught the back of her jaw with his hand, guiding her closer.

Their breaths mingled together.

Her lips parted. Closer…

“Hey, how’s—oh shit, sorry!”

She repelled from him, electrified, and whipped her head to the screeching of the curtain rod.

Cheeks flushed, Will yanked at the curtains, closing them once again.

“Wait!” Annabeth glanced at Percy, whose eyes were wide. “Will, this isn’t—”

The latter hollered from the other side, “I can come later! To, um, change bandages! Be good!”

So close.

She wanted to slap herself.

No.

This wasn’t right. For a second, she’d forgotten what was at stake. Let herself be swept away.

Have you ever considered that he’s going to die?

He’ll leave you just like everyone else.

This was dangerous, letting herself taste what wasn’t meant to be.

“I—I’m sorry,” she gasped, standing up, an unknown force pushing her back.

Percy blinked, slower than usual. Probably from all the ambrosia and nectar and mortal medicine.

“Annabeth—”

He reached for her, but she was already backing away into the wall, stumbling over her wooden chair.

“No, I shouldn’t have…” She felt herself blush. “I don’t know, I...I should go.”

She scrambled towards the curtains, ignoring Percy’s expression awashed in hurt and shock.

Brushing past his bedside, he grabbed her arm.

“Please,” he begged, voice barely above a whisper. “Please stay.”

Blinking away her tears, Annabeth forced herself to look at him.

If I stay, you’ll leave me first.

But she didn’t say that, only shook her head and watched as those beautiful eyes of his creased around the corners with anguish. A part of her died a little at witnessing this. His was a heart worn on a sleeve that would soon fade away. She pulled her arm away, burned from his grip.

“‘Beth—”

“I’m sorry.” She swallowed, already tugging the curtain aside. “I’ll call Will.”

And she left him there in his injury, allowing it to be.

He didn’t deserve this, she knew. Not when she could enjoy the last moments with him, admitting what was in the open air between them. But they’d be one step into their ruined fate if that ever happened. If she didn’t stop.

Because she was like Tantalus, that lone fruit forever out of her reach.

He didn’t deserve this, but she didn’t deserve to have him, either.

#percabeth #percabeth fic #pjo fic #pjo #anon #pjo fanfiction #tw blood #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #percy jackson #annabeth chase #ahhh idk do I like it #or do i not #angst #look mom i can write

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satan-chillin · 3 years

Text

Spirited Away

Wei Ying, abandoned and homeless in the middle of a snowstorm, is spirited away by an entity that must have been the White Ghost.

He's brought home.

(Or WenZhou adopts WWX. The Fic.)

Also available in Ao3

❆❆❆

Wei Ying exhaled hotly against the cusp of his palms and shivered.

The snow had raged for days without letting up, and the cold did nothing on the itchy scabs of dog bites on his arms and the hunger squeezing his stomach. Wei Ying hunched into himself further. This would pass, though whether it was the snowstorm or the pain of his wounds or the hunger, he couldn’t say.

Carefully, he broke half of the molded baozi and then broke the half again into two; this way, the baozi would last him another three days. Hopefully, the remaining pieces wouldn’t be spoiled by then.

He was thirsty after a single bite that it took him to eat. Nothing filling, as usual, but it would be enough for now and something that sleep could improve through the night. The upside of having a snowstorm was the lack of nocturnal predators also hunting for food, therefore less to worry about whether he’d wake up mauled on the sidewalk. Curling himself into a ball in order to preserve what little body heat that he could, he prepared for sleep. He tended to sleep easier these days, tired and worn out as he was even without moving about much.

Wei Ying must have fallen asleep immediately that night and was quickly lulled into a dream because the next thing he knew, he could make out a vague shape of someone approaching him.

White. White as the storm of snow. Long white hair and robes billowed in the harsh wind. A ghost, Wei Ying thought immediately. He had heard of tales of a white ghost around the town, one that would eat unruly children who strayed out of their beds late at night. He used to believe that the white ghost had yet to find him, though now that he was found, oddly enough, he was not afraid.

Not when a pale hand reached for him, tender atop his head. Blearily, Wei Ying stared at the face and couldn’t seem to focus on anything else aside from the sudden warmth coursing from his head to toe. If the White Ghost would eat him, he wouldn’t mind as long as he got to be this warm forever.

“Sleep, little one,” came from a voice that was seemingly carried by the wind. “I’ll bring you home.”

Home. Wei Ying would love to go home.

❆❆❆

Wei Ying woke on an actual bed and with a man hovering over him by the bedside.

“You’re awake,” said the stranger with a tentative smile. He made no move to come closer, looking unsure the longer Wei Ying stared at him, the silence spanning between them. “I brought food.”

Wei Ying did not shy away from the tray laid before him. He took a bite out of the bread and drank deeply from the cup of tea. He almost choked if not for the man’s sudden alarm, gently patting his back and encouraging him to eat slowly. He reached for the soup before Wei Ying could, taking a spoonful and blowing before feeding it to him. Wei Ying obediently opened his mouth, delighted at the right temperature of the soup.

By the third spoonful, the man sheepishly brought down the spoon, murmured an apology, and asked him if he’d rather eat by himself. Wei Ying did not mind one bit, did not understand what the apology was for, and boldly requested to be helped with the soup. Something shifted on the man’s expression, his previous smile turning soft and sure when he assisted Wei Ying with the food, occasionally pausing to let him drink the tea or take a bite of the bread first.

“I’d get you more, but maybe later, once your stomach settles,” the man said. “It’ll hurt if you suddenly eat too much.”

Wei Ying remembered the baozi he kept under his robes, though upon touching his clothes he discovered that they were no longer the dirty ones he had slept in for as long as he could recall. The one he was wearing felt nice and soft and clean, something new and in the color of light blue with long sleeves that hid the bite marks on his forearms. He checked on his scabbing wounds and stared at them in wonder seeing as they were almost gone.

“A good friend of mine is a healer. He came by last week to take a look at you,” the man told him. “And Lao Wen made sure to apply medicine on them every day.”

Wei Ying did not know this Lao Wen—and what did he say? “Last week?” he asked, voice hoarse from sore throat. Wordlessly, the man handed him a cup of lukewarm water.

“What do you remember?”

“Snow,” Wei Ying answered. “Lots of it.” He frowned to himself, mind clicking on a significant memory. “The White Ghost came for me last night.”

The man blinked, a hint of amusement in his raised brows. “White Ghost?”

Wei Ying nodded eagerly. “It must be him because of his white hair. He also wears white. They say he eats unruly children who don’t return home in time.”

That earned him a snort, a grin lighting up the man’s face. He had a pleasant face, Wei Ying realized. “Ah, Lao Wen doesn’t eat unruly children, I assure you, not when he can be unruly as a child himself,” he said with a shake of his head. “He brought you here roughly three weeks ago. From what I understand, it was a long journey back from where he picked you up to here, and you had a fever during the trip.” He glanced at Wei Ying’s thin wrists peeking from his sleeves. “Ten days later, he arrived home with you.”

Oh. So this was the home the White Ghost was pertaining to. Wei Ying’s eyes darted around the room. It wasn’t cold here despite the snow he could see still falling outside the window that painted a night sky, and there was food.

“You’re in the Four Seasons Manor,” the man said as if reading Wei Ying’s mind. “Forgive my manners, my name is Zhou Zishu. Later, you’ll meet Lao Wen. What do I call you?”

“Wei Ying. My name is Wei Ying.” Wei Ying liked Zhou Zishu already for the sole reason that he did not ask where his parents were; he honestly had no idea. “Can I live here?”

“Of course,” Zhou Zishu said without hesitation, though his palm hovered uncertainly over Wei Ying’s head as if silently asking for permission. Wei Ying beamed up at him, inching closer to his side that had Zhou Zishu smiling. “This can be your home, Wei Ying, if you want.”

“I do!” It wasn’t as if Wei Ying had anywhere else to go, and it must have shown in his face judging from the flicker of Zhou Zishu’s expression. “I will help around, I promise!”

Zhou Zishu tsked amusedly. “Don’t make that promise when you haven’t seen the entire place yet.” He stood. “It’s better if you go back to rest, but I won’t stop you if you want to stretch your legs.”

Wei Ying felt the length of time he spent lying down on the bed through shaky knees, and Zhou Zishu was instantly there to carry him instead in his arms. Wei Ying automatically circled his neck, hooking his chin on Zhou Zishu’s shoulder.

“Right. You can stretch your legs later. I’ll carry you for now. Is that alright?” Zhou Zishu asked him. “If you fell asleep, then I’ll bring you back here.”

Wei Ying gave him an affirmative, liking the sound of that. Zhou Zishu swaddled him with a thick blue robe that was twice Wei Ying’s size before bringing him outdoors where the breeze swept the last dredges of snow. A firm hand stroked Wei Ying’s back comfortingly as they took a sedate trip around the manor. Zhou Zishu explained to him which was which, whose room was whose, pointing at specific locations. Later, he would let Wei Ying pick out his own room.

Wei Ying could not pinpoint what hour it was in the evening. It was quiet enough that he’d think only Zhou Zishu originally lived there; he did mention that he had some disciples and that if Wei Ying wanted he could join them once he recovered.

“But I already recovered,” he protested. “I can join them tomorrow.” He looking forward to meeting other children that he couldn’t wait to play and train with them.

“Not yet, brat. Give it another three days at least.”

Wei Ying pouted. “A-niang said my golden core is strong so I heal quick.”

“Golden core?” Zhou Zishu paused, thoughtful. “Your parents are cultivators?”

Wei Ying nodded. “They left for a night-hunt. They never came back.”

A frown creased Zhou Zishu’s forehead before a sigh escaped him. “I’m sorry to hear that. I’m sure they were good people.”

His parents were never called ‘good’ by anyone who took one glance at Wei Ying, who was a homeless boy anyone would take pity in and promptly forgot once they crossed over to the next street.

“Do you want to be a cultivator like them someday?” Zhou Zishu asked.

“Maybe,” Wei Ying muttered. “I don’t know. Are you also a cultivator?”

“No. The Four Seasons Sect is not a cultivation sect. Not that kind of cultivation, at least. Though I can teach you its foundations: martial arts and the way of the sword, and help you develop your own body and spirit in order to prepare both for cultivation.” Zhou Zishu peered at him. “How about that?”

If Wei Ying couldn’t learn cultivation here, then that meant he would have to eventually leave and learn somewhere. Wei Ying did not want to, not so soon. His hold tightened, though Zhou Zishu hardly minded.

“Don’t overthink. You’re young, it won’t happen for years,” Zhou Zishu reminded him. “I’m a strict teacher, Wei Ying. I won’t deem you ready unless I say so.”

“Okay,” Wei Ying whispered elatedly. He would be a good student… or not if it meant staying here longer.

“And there’s also Lao Wen. He also teaches here.”

Wei Ying blinked at Zhou Zishu. “The White Ghost?”

“White Ghost doesn’t sound bad as far as titles go.”

There was a new voice from behind. The same white robes and the same flowing white hair from Wei Ying’s dreamlike memory. Like a floating ghost, he was quiet when he approached them, and Wei Ying stared at how the faint moonlight was caught at the White Ghost’s head.

The White Ghost pursed his lips at Zhou Zishu. “Isn’t it past bedtime for sightseeing?” At Wei Ying, he smiled fondly. “How are you, little one?”

“I’m good!” Wei Ying said, perhaps with a cheer that the White Ghost did not expect. “A-Shu toured me around the manor.”

“ A-Shu?” Delightfully, he addressed Zhou Zishu, “I see you already endeared yourself to the child you thought I kidnapped.”

“You—Do you even know his name before you picked him up?” Zhou Zishu demanded. He sighed exasperatedly at the shrug he received in return and the conspiratorial smirk the White Ghost shared with Wei Ying. “This is Wei Ying, Lao Wen. Wei Ying, that man you called the White Ghost is Wen Kexing, but he’s known as Lao Wen.”

“Wei Ying,” the White Ghost—Wen Kexing—Lao Wen—tested his name. “You have a good name, little one.” Delicately, he tucked a stray lock of Wei Ying’s hair behind his ear. “You can call me Lao Wen.”

“But you don’t look old,” Wei Ying pointed out. “Can I call you A-Xing?”

Wen Kexing’s laugh rang like a chime in the silence of the evening. “This little one is not shy at all.” He grinned. “I think we’ll get along really well.”

“He has a name,” Zhou Zishu interrupted. “And don’t encourage him to be troublesome!” he reprimanded. “He’s going to be a promising student of mine.”

“Aiyah, A-Xu, can’t he be both? Besides, he’ll be my student too, and I’ll teach him the ways of a proper gentry.” Wen Kexing winked at Wei Ying. “Would you like that, little one?”

Wei Ying believed he would. His father had mentioned studying before, though his mother would rather he play instead, so he never had the chance to actually sit down and learn, either alone with his father as his tutor or with other children.

He wondered for a moment whether this was also a dream. The last time he closed his eyes to sleep, he was alone outside the cold, freezing and starving and with no one to call; then he woke up somewhere warm and big and comfortable with two nice people, and more he’d meet tomorrow.

A part of him thought he might have been truly eaten by the White Ghost that night, though if he was, it would not be A-Shu carrying him but his quiet father who preferred smiling that private smile of his than speaking, and the one with the nice-looking face and draped in all white would not be A-Xing but his mother from his vague memories of her.

Maybe someday he’d see clearer faces of his parents, but not anytime soon when he had just committed A-Shu and A-Xing’s faces to memory and when Wei Ying started to picture himself growing familiar with them instead.

Wei Ying grinned excitedly at what tomorrow would bring. “I’d like that.”

#fanfic #fanfiction #shl fic #shan he ling #cql #cheng qing ling #mdzs #untamed fic #crossover #wwx gets adopted by wenzhou #wenzhou #wen kexing #word of honor #zhou zishu #the untamed #wei wuxian

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neokids · 3 years

Text

Fortune's Fool: Act XI

Masterlist (read previous and future ones here!)

Act XI

Tw: Lots of blood, character death, violence, murder, guns, knives, weapons, foul language, self-inflicted wounds, suicide, overall graphic content

“Miss Hwang,”

Yeji turned around to see a messenger awkwardly standing, he was oddly keeping his distance as if she carried the contagious madness.

“Yes?”

“Your parents ask for your presence in their office. They would like to speak to you right now.”

And they didn’t even bother to check what had happened downstairs in their own house, how thoughtful.

“Regarding what?” Yeji asked, anticipation building up causing her to fiddle with her fingers behind her back. “They did not say. They just asked for your presence. Immediately.”

Yeji let out a sigh as she made her way upstairs, she glanced back at the pool of blood all over the living room, how on earth would they clean this up. She also noticed her relatives talking so casually amidst the scene, as if nothing happened. As if it wasn’t contagious.

As she approached her father’s office, the door immediately opened. Yeji was taken aback by the sudden appearance of her father holding the door for her, it was as if he was waiting for her all along.

“You asked for my presence? Are we to discuss recent matters?” Yeji asked as soon as she sat across from her father and mother. Lord and Lady Hwang only looked at each other as Yeji noticed something in her father’s hands. He held a creamy white envelope sealed off in a rich gold stamp. She eyed it as well before glancing back to her father.

“How are we going to get rid of the bloodstains downstairs?” Yeji asked again, leaving her first questions unanswered.

“We’ll call for someone to clean it up.” Her mother said, dismissing Yeji’s current worries.

“Mama, it’s the madness. It’s in our house now, who knows who else will suffer. It could be a viral contagion, we should ask the other servants if they made contact with the ones who tore their throats out.” Yeji explained, ultimately regretting the decision seeing as her father narrowed his eyes at her in confusion while her mother eyed her quizzically.

“What made you assume it was viral?” Lady Hwang asked simply, no tones of suspiciousness in her voice.

Yeji froze as soon as she realized she blurted out a piece of information she found out from Jeno, but she had to remain calm. Her mother wasn’t the type to stay silent when she finds something suspicious, she was the type to confront someone directly.

“Hearsays,” Yeji replied calmly, “At this point, anything is possible.”

“Moving on,” Lord Hwang said firmly, clearly wanting to dismiss the current topic. “Summoning you here to talk about this madness wasn’t the reason we called you here.” He pushed the thick white envelope he was holding towards Yeji.

“What is this?” She took it, observing the intricately written gold letters curve with elegance. It was heavy as well.

“An invitation,” Lady Hwang explained, “To a masquerade ball from the Chinese.”

Yeji opened the envelope recklessly, wanting to get it over as soon as possible. She read that it was indeed an invitation from the Chinese, specifically signed by a man named ‘Xiao Dejun’

“It’s going to be held next week in the gazebos,” Lord Hwang added as he redirected his attention to the other stacks of paper on his desk. “They want to celebrate the joined forces and powers of Korea and China!” He recited flatly as Yeji read the exact same lines on the invitation.

We are extending our warm welcome to all of Viper-gang members, it reads in royal blue ink.

Yeji heard her mother scoff, causing her to tear her attention away from the invitation and towards her mother. Lady Hwang had a clear expression of distaste on her face, obviously not buying whatever the Chinese had written on the invitation. “If they wanted to celebrate, then they should start remembering that this is our country, not theirs.”

“However,” Lord Hwang added, as if he didn’t hear what his own wife had to say, “If they wish to celebrate, then let us celebrate.” Her father said sternly, he looked up to his daughter staring at him with a mouth opening and closing, finding the right words to say. “Also I believe there is another invitation somewhere in that envelope?”

Yeji rummaged through the invitation to reveal another card, this one bright red in color and had silver lettering,

It was from the Lius.

But it wasn’t for Yeji, it was for her father. Mr. Liu was requesting another meeting despite how many times they have been turned down. A few weeks ago, Yeji turned him down only for her to turn down his son as well. She didn’t know why they were so adamant about selling their product, they weren’t prominent nor known whatsoever. In fact. Nobody knew who they were or where they came from.

“Well,” Yeji said as she slid the envelope back to her father’s hands, “Why should this concern me?”

Something about the silence irked Yeji, the silence contained unleft words from both Lord and Lady Hwang’s mouths. They were waiting for something, an answer, a follow up.

“Well,” Lord Hwang began, “I would greatly appreciate it if you were to go with me,” He finally said as he folded his arms against his chest.

“You’re not certainly making me go to this ball, right?” Yeji asked to confirm, eyes shifting to her father who had a serious expression on his aging face to her mother who looked like she wanted to end this conversation immediately.

“It’s always your choice, Yeji.” Her father said flatly. Something to know about Lord Hwang is that he never took no for an answer, especially when it came from a family member. Better yet, his own daughter. “But I prefer if you would.”

“Appa,” Yeji whined, “I did enough partying in America to last me the rest of eternity. Surely the Chinese could discuss and bargain all they want, but in the end we always know they will never have the final say in this country.”

“Yeji,” Lady Hwang scolded.

“What?” Yeji retorted, righteous.

“No, she has a point.” Her father said as he raised a hand to stop Lady Hwang, “They only wish to mingle and propose their products to me, I would let you go if it weren’t for a certain someone requesting your presence.”

Lord Hwang had his gaze pinpointed on her. Yeji however, remained silent. She blinked once, then twice. She already knew where this conversation was heading towards.

“I see,” Yeji decided to say plainly, she didn’t want to press on whoever requested her presence. Judging by the sent invitation from the Chinese, and a separate invitation from the Lius, it was already a dead giveaway.

Yangyang Liu.

“We need all the power we can get. We need the forces, the allies, the security and comfort knowing that we will continue our reign in this city. I need you to be my little translator when they mutter something in Mandarin, thinking I can not speak their mother tongue.”

Yeji made a disgruntled groan from her throat. “As you wish, appa.” She stood up and took the letter from her father’s hands once again. “I’ll go as you wish!” She exclaimed as she tried to walk outside Lord Hwang’s office. Just as she was about to reach for the doorknob, her mother suddenly spoke up. “Wait,”

So. Damn. Close.

Yeji turned around as she cocked a brow, “This….Yangyang,” Lady Hwang started “Why is he requesting you?”

Lady Hwang said his name as if it held meaning to her. Lady Hwang thought that it had some effect on her, she didn’t know that that effect would be her getting annoyed more than anything.

Yeji pursed her lips into a thin line, “He is Mr. Liu’s son, obviously.” she replied, apathetic. “I believe the main reason why they requested for another meeting is because they are still trying to sell their product to us.”

“Is he handsome?” Lady Hwang asked, curious for herself rather than her own daughter.

“My god, mama.” Yeji replied as she tried to stop herself rolling her eyes. She walked towards the door again, hopefully able to leave this time. “He is just using me, this is just business. If you would excuse me, I have to–what the hell are you doing?”

The latter part was directed to Hyunjin, who was standing right in front of her as she opened the door.

“Relax,” Hyunjin smiled a very much fake smile, “I was on my way to the balcony.”

They both knew it was a lie–Hyunjin not bothering to try and make a more believable expression. Yeji closed her father’s door with a loud thud. She waited for her cousin to say something, but he only stared back, his plastic smile not leaving his face.

“Well do you have anything to say to me, Hyunjin?” Yeji asked, crossing her arms. Hyunjin’s smile only grew wider.

“Only one,” He said as he eyed the door, knowing full well that Lord and Lady Hwang could hear their conversation, “I just can’t wait to go to this party, jiāchǒu bùkě wàiyáng.”

Yeji stiffened, satisfied with the reaction he had caused, he turned around merrily and left. He shoved his hands to his pockets as a whistle from a song left his lips.

The family’s shame shouldn’t be exposed.

“Méiyǒu shé me kě jiēlù de,” Yeji muttered. She stomped as she went down the stairs, glaring at the relatives who were still near the crime scene, happily going on with their latest gossip they just had to share. She made a beeline towards the kitchen to see Karina seated on the counter chomping down on an apple. She had no idea how Karina managed to find an appetite when she was seated right in front of a huge stain of blood.

“So?” Yeji asked as she tapped the counter beside her cousin.

“What? Oh, I gave up trying to remove the stains ten minutes ago.” Karina answered as she took another bite of her apple. After chewing for a while, she tilted her heads towards the side as she looked at the stain.

“It kinda looks like a dog, don’t you think?” She asked as she looked at Yeji who looked at her with a concerned look on her face.

Yeji only stared at her as she swallowed her bite. “Too soon?”

“Way too soon,” Yeji replied, shaking her head. “You busy? I need your Rover ties.”

“For the nth time–” Karina answered, rolling her eyes as she tossed remnants of her apple towards the trash bin, “I do not have Rover ties. What am I finding though?”

Yeji grinned, one thing she loved about her cousin was her eagerness to play spy and to go to unknown grounds. “Jinyoung Park’s address.”

Karina only needed to wrinkle her face, not quite surprised for the sudden request. Yeji could ask her to go get the weirdest most bizarre things, and she would still oblige. Yeji didn’t need to reason out her request as Karina leaped from the counter and feigned a salute to her cousin, her lips turning into a quick smirk. “Yes sir!”

…

“Lice?” Jeno echoed in disbelief

“Lice-like,” Kun corrected, head shaking in the process. He examined a strip of skin he collected from the corpse Jaemin and Haechan brought back to them. They could see the tiny bulges of pockets where the dead insects resided. Jaemin was turning pale while Haechan had his fingers placed on his mouth.

“They jump from one host to another like lice through the hair, I believe they only die when the host dies.” Kun went on as he further pressed onto the membrane, beside him was Doyoung audibly gagging from the sudden autopsy they had to perform. Nevertheless, the Neos had seen far stranger things.

“Oh good heavens,” Jaemin suddenly blurted, feeling dizzy as he gripped onto the table. “We could have been infected.”

Haechan made an exaggerated groan, “They’re dead already,” He said as he motioned towards the insects and the dead body.

“And yet you made me dissect that,” Jaemin retorted, recalling the previous scenes. He shuddered, suddenly remembering how disgusting it was. His body was on full vibrate mode, “How–”

“Gentlemen,” Jeno prompted, his fingers drumming the table he leaned on. He suddenly felt like all the oxygen from the lab was being sucked out, he couldn’t breathe. He had already woken up with a throbbing headache since he wasn’t able to get a good sleep. He tried to redirect Jaemin’s and Haechan’s attention back to Kun, but it didn’t work.

“I told you, my hands were full.”

“You were holding two knives, you could have easily slipped them in your goddamn pockets.”

Jeno gave an apologetic smile to Kun, there was no way he could get Jaemin and Haechan to stop. When the two weren’t busy discussing theories or other normal things, they would argue. Most of the time, it would be about nonsense things that shouldn’t be worth debating over. They would get so engaged in each other until you could see one of their faces going red, or vines starting to pop out from their necks.

“As I was saying,” Kun continued, realizing the two men infront of him had no signs of stopping anytime soon, “since we have much more advanced resources in our facilities than all of Seoul, I could try manufacturing a cure, if that sounds good to you.”

“The only thing that sounds good to me is when you finally shut the fuck up!” Jaemin suddenly exclaimed to Haechan, causing Kun and Jeno to turn their attention once again to them.

“Yes,” Jeno pleaded, making Kun smile a boring smile to him. “That would be great. Thank you, Kun–”

“Don’t thank me yet, Mr. Lee.” Kun tutted, “I can’t manufacture anything without you and your friends’ help.” Kun’s last statement effectively made Jaemin and Haechan to stop fighting. They exchanged glances and slowly turned towards Kun, who was serious as a priest giving a sermon.

“Anything,” Jeno promised, making Jaemin quirk a brow as Haechan nudged him to prevent hearing his whining. “I need to run live experiments,” Kun nodded to himself, “Yes, a live victim. You must find me a live victim.”

“A live–”

This time it was Jeno’s turn to nudge Jaemin’s side.

“Noted,” Jeno said quickly, hoping his two friends would stay silent, “we’re on it. Thank you, Kun. Truly.”

When Kun nodded to them, Jeno pushed himself off the table he was previously leaning on. He quickly dragged both his friend and cousin towards the exit. Jeno was rather quite impressed when Jaemin managed to stay silent the whole time they were making their way towards the doors, not hearing a single whine nor complaint leave his lips. It was only when they were under the dark sky clouding the city did Jaemin finally burst.

“Ya! What the hell?! How the hell are we supposed to find a live victim?! Who the hell would be our live victim?! You know what, don’t answer that. I volunteer in Haechan to be the experimental–Ow!” Jaemin’s rant came to a stop once he felt Haechan’s palm smack him on the head. Jeno sighed as he continued to walk, kicking a few pebbles blocking his way. Jaemin, full of energy as always, was bouncing.

“Careful,” his cousin warned. “Might trip on a pebble.”

“You’re giving me a headache.” Jeno replied as he turned around.

“How are we supposed to know a victim is a victim?” Jaemin went on as he ignored them both, “We only know they were infected once they have succumbed to it! Not to mention they only have a solid five minutes left before they die.”

Jeno shut his eyes momentarily, when he opened them again he felt like he could fall asleep that instant. “I don’t know.”

The walk home was just Jaemin and Haechan bickering once again. Jeno barely contributed to their usual debate for his headache only grew worse. Once they reached the entrance of the main mansion, Jeno could only muster a quiet farewell, leaving Jaemin and Haechan to stare at him. They understood him though, they knew Jeno always got silent when he had too many thoughts clouding his head.

Jeno meekly opened the heavy entrance doors. All he needed was a quick nap and maybe a few pills to ease his throbbing headache so that he could come up with a plan for Kun’s–

“Jeno,”

Jeno’s head jerked up to his father looking down on him from the top step of the staircase. His eyes narrowed at him per usual, his lips forming into a thin line.

“Yes?”

Without saying a word, he extended his hand to give Jeno a piece of paper. He thought that his father would come down to meet him midway, but Lord Lee only remained where he stood. This caused Jeno to hurriedly come up the stairs to keep his father from waiting. The piece of paper turned out to be an invitation with a name and address written in reflective silver ink.

“Find him,” Lord Lee sneered when Jeno looked up for an explanation. “I have heard from my advisors that the Rovers may be the center of all this madness.”

Jeno’s fingers tightened on the invitation he held, “What?” He asked, quite taken aback on the sudden request, “But the Rovers have been trying to be on our side for years–”

“Yet we push them away everytime,” Lord Lee refuted, not interested in what his son had to say, “Obviously they are changing strategies, trying to side with the Vipers seeing as we lost them. Before they could do anything we must counter them immediately. Stop them.”

Was it simply the Rovers’ strategy? Were they trying to kill all those in a gang or mafia so that the violence could finally stop? Were they trying to panic the crowd so that the crowd would listen to them? So they could rule over?

“How am I to stop a whole political party?” Jeno murmured quietly, “How am I to–”

Before Jeno continued, his father had slapped him on the head causing him to grip on the stair’s railing to prevent him from falling down the stairs. He moved away from his father, hoping he could avoid a second hit. He shouldn’t have countered his father vocally when he was an arm’s length away.

“I gave you a name and an address, did I not?” Lord Lee snapped, growing impatient with his own son. “Go. See how true the word on the street is.”

With that, his father returned to his own office, not even bothering to glance back at his son. He gripped the piece of paper tightly, his head throbbing worse than before, Jeno inhaled before muttering bitterly,

“As you wish.”

#jeno mafia au #jeno mafia #nct mafia #nct mafia au #nct dream #nct dream mafia au #jeno lee #nctitzy #yeji mafia au #yeji mafia #jeno angst #jeno smut #jeno fluff #aespa au #aespa mafia au #yejeno au #yejeno

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