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huenjin · 4 years

Text

and they were roommates.

summary — who would have thought that a very naked sight of your best friend and a torn shower curtain in the rainiest of weathers could start romance? or in which you start falling for your childhood best friend, lee minho, unaware that he’s always been in love with you.

pairing — lee minho x reader, ft. binsung.

genre — fluff, smut, crack | roommates!au, bff2l!au

rating — 18+

word count — 11k words.

note — smut warnings under the cut, ofc! i suck at making summary adagafga!! but but but, i promise this story is adorable, okay, minus all that smut, my lame humor and those bit of rushed parts? this took forever and i'm so sorry for all that had to wait, especially the one who requested this uwuwu.

smut warnings — a lot of kissing, a lot of swearing, mentions of naked exposure, fingering, cunnilingus, riding/reader on top, penetration, unprotected sex (wrap it before you snap it), choking. there isn't a loooot of smut either, ah! so enjoy the fluff ride.

"You idiot," you scream, loud enough for your neighbours to hear. You pull out the keys that hang outside in the key hole and pull open the door. "How could you leave the keys outside, Minho?"

"I mean, what if someone stole it?" You throw your keys and Minho's into the small box on a ledge by the door. Removing your shoes, you put on the pair of your house shoes by the side and walk further into the apartment. "Or what if someone broke in? You could get killed, you dumb hoe! Or worse, our new television could get stolen."

You hear no response and just the loud sound of shower running in the bathroom hits the walls of your shared apartment. You walk to your room, passing by the common bathroom, after throwing your bag on the sofa. You talk on the way, yelling in hopes that he would hear.

"Did you walk back in the rain? There's no other reason as to why I did not see you after college. Jisung was searching for you too, Minho."

You change into a pair of shorts and black camisole, pulling your hair up and knotting it, all while your ears pick up the small humming from the bathroom. You shake your head at the fact that since it's Lee Minho in the shower, he is probably going to take his own time to come out. After all, he is the reason why your water bill is so high.

"Yah, Lee Minho!" You walk outside and hit the door with your fists to bring at least a little of his attention towards you. "Do you want the leftovers or should I get food delivered?"

"Delivery!" he screams back, hearing the shower sounds lower and you yell back in response, "Okay," and walk back to the living room, falling back and plopping down on the comfortable rexine covered sofa.

Your phone rings in the next minute and you are pulling it from your pocket quickly all because you are bored out of your mind. It is also because your stupid best friend from the god forbidden age of five to till this date, takes forever to get out from the shower.

It's Jisung. Not that you would have a doubt even if you had picked up without looking at the name on the screen — your friend circle is that small. It has just been you, Minho and Jisung majorly for almost three fourth of your life, the other one fourth of it with you having your parents as your best friends. Jisung had always been the annoying kid in the playground that pushed you off the swing because he wanted to play and Minho had always been the knight in shining armour in your local playground, the defender of all things right as he saved you from Jisung's frustrating taunts.

And then your mother — oh dear, she is the reason why you are still stuck with Minho's rich arse (mostly because she thought too that this is the finest her very antisocial daughter would ever find in a man) — decides that since Lee Minho was so kind to save her poor damsel-like daughter, he might as well do it forever. Fast forward to present day, and you are still cleaning up after him.

"Did Minho reach home?" Jisung asks as soon as you answer the call. You roll your eyes and shift your position to one that allows you to stretch your leg against the length of the sofa.

"Oh, hi, Y/N," you fake your tone, mocking Jisung's ignorance. "Did you reach home safely? Did you get caught in the rain? Oh no!" And then quickly changing it back to normalcy, "Yes, Jisung. I reached home safely. The rain did get heavy as I walked back home but nothing to worry. Did you reach home safely?"

Jisung is laughing loudly on the other end. "Sorry, Y/N," he makes a weird kissing sound and you pull your phone away from your ear. "I presume Minho's safe at home, else you would be the one to crash my phone with the endless calls in worry of his safety. Ha!"

"He got caught in the rain," you sigh. "I hope he's okay though. I would have mentioned how he was, had he just come out of that goddamn bathroom but no! It almost seems like he is rebuilding the whole bathroom." Jisung laughs so loud that you have to pull the phone away from your ear again.

"Dude, dude, dude," Jisung calls out for you through the line.

"Yeah?"

"You and Minho are totally like my parents fighting."

"Do you want to get punched in your face, Han Jisung?" You sit up straight, folding your leg across each other and bending forward, your elbow digging into your thigh as your hand supports your head.

"And my boyfriend would punch yours if you punched mine," he huffs and you know he is talking about Seo Changbin. At a good five feet and six inches, the shorter male befriended Jisung and then wooed him over in grade eleven with some weird shining universe experiment for a science project and the Han Jisung you had always known, fell for the gesture immediately. They began dating a week after, making Changbin the only other human being you willingly chose to become closer to.

"Like Minho would let that," you click your tongue and Jisung laughs again, mumbling, "How have you guys not slept with each other yet? You guys are roommates."

"I'll kill you, Han Jisung."

"Like you would." The minute Jisung taunts back, you hear a loud noise of something crashing down and the sound is from the bathroom. You jump upwards, quickly hanging up without even telling Jisung that you were leaving as you drop your phone and rush towards the bathroom, taking huge steps to reach before the door in less than a few seconds.

You slam your fist against the door, over and over again, yelling, "Yah," to draw his attention before asking, "Minho, are you okay? I'm coming in," and you pull open the door to the common bathroom. A decision you wish you had not chosen but one you had to take for his safety.

Before a very surprised you lay a very, very naked Lee Minho, groaning with his back against the cold white tiles of the bathroom, neck lifting his head above to instinctively avoid hitting the floor. His hand holds a huge piece of the shower curtain that he must have tried holding onto before falling and as the colour drains from your face, lips wide apart, staring at your naked best friend in shock who is staring back at you, it dawns upon you quickly.

You immediately slap your hand over your eyes and scream as loud as you could possibly, "Fuck, fuck. I just saw your schlong, oh my god!"

"Are you not going to look at me at all now that you saw my dick?"

Minho rolls his eyes at you as a soft groan leaves his lip while he tries to make himself more comfortable on his bed. This time, he is fully clothed, black shirt over his torso and navy blue shorts. You are sitting on a small chair by his side, Chinese herbal medicinal mix in a white ceramic bowl, a tub filled with warm water and a towel and long white bandages on the table by the bed. The Chinese herbal medicinal mix was something your mother specifically ordered you to prepare for the boy before you.

You hand him a cup of warm water first which he takes and is about to swallow it down when you look at the wooden bedpost behind him and mumble, "But I saw your womb raider." Minho chokes on the water before coughing and you quickly pat his back which leads him to cry softly in pain and you are left apologising over and over again for being reckless.

He places the cup on the table and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he narrows his eyes at you and questions, "Womb raider? What the fuck?"

"You know, your schlong," you look away, heat rising up to your cheek. "I saw your schlong, a womb raider."

"I can't believe you call a dick that," he groans, rolling his eyes as if he has completely given up on you, "After having your womb raided enough by many womb raiders."

You look away, taking the ceramic bowl in your hand and mumbling, "None of them were long and thick enough to be called a womb raider though."

"Did you say anything, Y/N?"

"Nothing," you yell and glare at him, cheeks still hot with the image still vivid in your head. "You can't look disappointed in me," you frown at him, "I should be disappointed. You tore the shower curtain."

"It was a mistake!" Minho gasps and tries to sit up but quickly ditches the plan when he feels the spin surge through him. You place the bowl back on the table and push yourself forward to help Minho sit up, your arms wrapped around his waist, your chest against his as you slowly pull him up. Minho explains himself, "If I didn't hold onto that, I would have gotten injured worse. I'm almost perfect now. It's just the slight—" You press your palm against his back and he seethes in pain.

"Slight pain, indeed," you scoff and finally let him rest against the bedpost. "This should do the magic though." You lift the ceramic bowl again and wave it before him, shoving the weird smelling green substance right in front of his nose. "My mother totally said it would work. She also said that you would have to be on the bed resting the whole day."

"You'll be my maid the whole day," Minho lights up, face instantly shining and you sigh, "Do I have an option? After this day though, we are going to buy shower curtains and you are going to pay for it because you tore it." You accuse him and he clicks his tongue.

"Fine."

"Remove your shirt now," you order and he looks at you, a teasing glint glistening in his eyes and he smiles, moving slightly closer.

"Why? Are you going to call my abs washboard now? That you could do laundry on them?" He purses his lips and leans forward and you push him back, his aching back hitting the bedpost again and Minho is crying with pain on the soft impact, albeit this time, you worry if it is fake. "Y/N," he cries, clamping down against his lower teeth hard, "Can you go easy on me?"

"Then stop teasing me!"

"Fine!" He huffs and looks away, "Help me out of this shirt now."

"What? Why? You put the shirt on fine. Can't you remove it on your own?" You question him, the ceramic bowl securely on your lap. Minho stares at you for the longest time ever and you stare back.

Has his eyes always been this tender? Has his skin always been this soft? Was Lee Minho always this charming and pretty to look at?

This is all because you saw his stupidly good dick, argh!

Minho finally answers, "It's harder to remove a shirt than to wear it." You shake your head and your eyes narrow to crinkled slits as you watch your best friend for a second more before placing the crucible back on the table and bending yourself forward to hold tightly the ends of his black shirt. You lift the black material up and remove it from his torso, exposing his abdomen and chest to the warm breeze in the air.

He stares at you and you stare at him back, only till you take the white ceramic bowl again and hopefully the last time and you raise an eyebrow at him, mocking him, "Aren't you going to give me the classic Wattpad naked white male line?"

"What line?"

He looks confused and you laugh, holding the bowl tightly, "You know, the—" You try to lower the pitch of your voice and to sound as cocky as possible, smirking, "Like what you see, baby girl?"

Minho laughs with you till he calms himself down a little, tilts his head and in the most guttural voice you have ever heard your best friend ever go, he repeats, "Like what you see, my baby girl?"

Your heart should not have sped up. Your fingers should not have tightened against the cold white crucible. You should not have pressed your thighs against each other. You should not have had your throat dried up at his very words. But it did and you are staring at Lee Minho in an angle you had never seen him.

When did that stupid five year old boy who thought he could save the whole world grow up into this man?

"Uh, Y/N," Minho waves his hand in front of you, trying to bring your attention back. "Are you going to apply the medicine or? I mean, it's cold."

"Oh yeah," you stutter. "Yeah, yeah, I was about to. Can you turn back so that I can apply it on your back?"

"Yeah," he nods and pressing his hands into the mattress, he shifts himself, turning a one hundred and eight degrees away from you so that his back is facing yours. "This okay?"

"Yeah," you agree. You bend your arm forward to take the cloth soaked in warm water and you press it against his back. Minho bites his tongue in pain, eyes watering before he can't take it anymore and he turns back to face you.

"Minho?"

"Can I do that thing you allowed me to do whenever I was in pain and you had to take care of me?" He asks, unsure, "Am I allowed?"

You nod, softly, smiling warmly at the man before you and you lift the chair up slightly. Minho quickly wraps his arms around your waist, his face buried into your soft chest as he edges closer to you. You place the warm cloth again on his broad back and Minho does what he has always done to combat pain.

He bites into your flesh softly, hard enough to trigger something weird within you at this age but soft enough to not cause any pain.

Your eyes widen and your thighs tighten a bit but Minho is unaware to all this as he snuggles into your warmth, head fuzzy with the pain that throbs through his entire back. After a few minutes, you place the cloth back on the table and hold the crucible tightly. You dig your forefinger and middle finger into the green mix before applying it on his back, soft circles to calm him down and Minho lets go of your flesh, although he still continues to snuggle into you, his thick arms tightening around your frame.

"You're comfortable to hug," he mumbles as you apply the medicine all over his back, his face occasionally pressing against your breast and you gulp, reminding yourself that this is your best friend, that this is the kid you've seen in all his embarrassments.

"Of course, I am," you laugh. "It doesn't pain that much, does it?"

"Not anymore."

"Good," and you apply another layer over the existing one. "Because if you say anything else to my mother, I swear to God, Lee Minho, I will—"

You don't complete. Minho laughs — soft, precious laughter that fills the air and engages your ears. He tilts his head to look up at you from his lower angle. You look down only to come in direct vision of his bright, glistening eyes that hold the stars behind them and his oh-so-flawless skin that you are envious of. Your heart beat escalates and you are about one hundred percent sure that Minho is aware. After all, he did have his ear against your chest in this position.

"Fine, fine," his voice is airy and you could listen to it the whole day. "I'll tell your mother that her daughter took care of me perfectly, alright?"

"Perfect," you smile. "Now sit up straight. I need to bandage you up, just in case." Minho begrudgingly pulls back, a soft whimper leaving his lips before he huffs, folding his arms and sitting straight, looking you in the eyes and you gulp.

"I'll be fine in a day, Y/N," Minho whines and you shake your head, mumbling, "Just in case." You turn your body to grab hold of the white roll of bandage before you beckon for him to come a little closer as you wrap the bandage over his torso, covering the medicinal herbs sticking to his body now.

"You, in fact," you chuckle as you tighten the bandage and Minho seethes in pain at having his muscles pressed. You rub his hair affectionately before continuing, "You, Lee Minho, should be ready enough to cash out money for the shower curtain."

"Fine, fine, fine," Minho huffs only to break out into a smile as he looks at you. "We'll go as soon as I don't think I'll die if I stand up and straighten my back, okay?"

"Perfect," you laugh and pull yourself away from your best friend, clipping the bandage in the exact manner. You help him lie back against the soft mattress. You pick up the crucible and the tub of water as you stand up.

"Y/N," Minho calls out for you and you turn, your head gliding against the joint and your eyebrows rising up in question.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks," he smiles, eyes closed and face so soft that you do want to hold it.

"For what?"

"For taking care of me, doofus. What would I have done had you not been there? You are my knight in shining armour now."

You laugh but your heart is furiously beating against your chest, thrumming against it so loudly that you can hear the beats. Your cheeks flush with heat and you look away, mumbling, "It's nothing," and walk away. You close the door quickly and fall against the vast wooden door finally, away from his presence and you hold the bowls close to you.

Fuck. When did your heart start beating this hard for the same man that you once knew as the stupid five year old with elephant print trunks? When did your heart start thrumming so loudly against your chest for your only best friend?

Either ways, you are doomed. Inevitably.

Jisung: baby, i think it's about time Changbin: for what? Jisung: you know, how we always said those two should probably fuck Changbin: yeah? Jisung: the sexual tension is too high. can we get it over with already and have them date already? Changbin: you've been trying this forever and you failed. Jisung: don't remind me. you're my boyfriend, support me. Changbin: fine! go, sungie!! i love you either way though.

It is exactly three days after the I-exposed-my-cock incident that Lee Minho agrees to go with you to buy the shower curtains.

"Can't we just buy it online?" He had whined, arms folding against each other as he scrolled through his phone. You stand by the sofa, head shaking in disappointment as you reason back, frustrated, "The material," and you hit his arm. Minho winces. "The material is important. I won't compromise on that. Plus, you promised that you would come with me to buy something that you tore. Isn't that only fair?"

Minho does so. After bargaining with him for one tub full of mint chocolate ice cream that you will never understand why he loves so much.

That is exactly how you find yourself here in this shop, shopping cart in your hand and Minho by your side.

"We are only buying the shower curtain," you tell him, staring at the half full shopping cart. "So I don't understand why we need all these."

Minho smiles sheepishly at you. He then points at the two tubs of ice cream and says, "One for you, and one for me. I even chose your favorite flavor!" He continues to point at each article and tell why he needs them very articulately and you stand there in surprise before breaking his speech.

"Fine, fine!" You push the cart ahead. "Now let's just go and get what we came here for." Minho follows you, his one hand on the shopping cart handle to keep pace with you. The two of you stop right in front of the array of curtains in different colours, some on display and some packaged and you smile, whispering under your breath, "Tada." Minho looks at you softly, at the small voice of joy that escapes your lips and he just watches you light up in fascination at something as simple as shower curtains.

Fuck, he loves your domesticity.

"Let's take this," Minho announces as he stretches his arms out to hold onto a pretty blue shower curtain. You hold it in between your fingers feeling the texture before announcing, "No."

"But why?" Minho whines, following your footsteps as you hold onto another shower curtain.

"Because it's polythene," you frown at your best friend. Minho looks at you, confused, his eyebrows furrowing as they look at you like you have grown another pair of hands and legs.

"And so?"

"You could tear it again!"

"It happened once," he sighs, frustrated. "Once. It's not like I'm waiting to fall in the shower, tear the curtain and have you see my dick all the time, babe."

Your cheeks flush at his announcement and the tag he calls you by, your eyes looking away from his pretty face for a split second. Minho shakes his hand, taking a step forward to check a few other shower curtains out when the two of you hear a very familiar voice from behind, in the most professional manner ever.

"Sir, the one you chose is perfect. It is very durable and doesn't stain on contact with water—"

"Han Jisung?" Minho turns, the words of shock leaving his mouth almost instantly. You turn impulsively, eyes wide.

"What the fuck are you guys doing here?"

"Hey," you narrow your eyes at the other male. "I could file a report for bad customer service about now, Sungie."

He folds his arms and looks at the two of you suspiciously, "What are you guys doing here?" He raises an eyebrow at you, scoffing at you, "Like you would."

"What does it look like we're doing here, Sungie?" You bite back jokingly and Jisung laughs, gaze shifting between the two of you.

"I don't know," he runs a hand through his hair before folding his arms again, his fluorescent yellow uniform crumbling with the shift in his arms. "Is this some sort of a new way to date?"

"We aren't—" You quickly start when Minho pulls a curtain forward and breaks your sentence before you can complete as he asks Jisung, "This isn't polythene, is it?"

"Are you stupid?" Jisung frowns before he laughs. "That's clearly polythene. Minho, dude, you're a chemical engineering student. You have got to be kidding me if you can't identify polythene."

Minho doesn't pay heed to Jisung's words. You, on the other hand, stare at your best friend who walks away from you to examine more shower curtains. Did Lee Minho really ask Jisung, a literature student, whether that was polythene — What in the world?

"Y/N? Earth to Y/N?" Jisung snaps your attention back to the present. "Are you going to buy shower curtains today?"

"Yeah?"

"But your shower curtains were fine the last time I came home." You understand Jisung's surprise because the last time he did come home was five days back and the shower curtain was in a perfect condition. "What happened?"

You stretch your arms and point at Minho. The very culprit rolls his eyes before raising his eyebrows and sighing, voicing in the most dramatic voice you have ever heard Minho take, "Yes, Y/N. Yes, Ji. It's me. I tore the shower curtain because I fell in the shower."

"Ouch," Jisung acknowledges Minho's injury before walking past the two of you and taking a shower curtain. "Here's one. You might like this, Y/N."

"It's not PVC, Sungie."

Jisung wants to hit your head, terribly. Perhaps it's your adamance that is the reason as to why your friendship is this tight and strong but in moments like these, he likes Minho more. Minho stands by the side, arms folded and back resting against the wall as he trusts your judgement.

"Are you not going to tell her anything?"

"She handles all this at home. Give her what she wants, Ji," he laughs, fiddling with a few more shower curtains by his side. Jisung shakes his head in disappointment before mumbling, a soft frustrated groan leaving his lips as he throws his head back, "Definitely a married couple," and takes a few polyvinyl chloride made shower curtains.

"Here," he presses his lips. "Don't blame me if the designs aren't that great. You don't get that many good designs in PVC. People go for polythene because it's more available."

"PVC doesn't tear and it's easy to clean!"

"Seconding this as a chemical engineering student," Minho chirps in from behind. You and Jisung turn to look at the man who is on his phone currently and shake your head lightly. "What?"

"He remembers his major now!" Jisung clicks his tongue. "All say, praise the Lord."

"I'm agnostic." You frown.

"More reasons for you to say it easily!"

You find a plain one in the ones he showed you and you take it. Jisung smiles finally, mumbling, "You're a frustrating customer."

"Nah," you scoff. Minho pushes himself off the wall as soon as he sees you done with the selection. "I just know what I want exactly. You, on the other hand, sweetheart," you poke his chest and Jisung chuckles. "You're a pathetic salesperson."

"Of course," he laughs the insult away. "I'm a literature student. I should be working in a publishing company as a part timer."

Minho takes the shower curtain from your hand and puts it in the cart by the side. He comes back, throwing his arm over Jisung's shoulder and frowns, "Apparently publishing companies care a lot more about who your parents are than your resume."

"It's just that publishing company," the other male looks down. "I'll try applying for another one soon."

"Do you want to grab a drink at our place tonight?"

"Can I?"

"Sure," Minho agrees. He drops his arm from Jisung's shoulder and holds the cart handle back, pushing it forward slightly. You take big strides to stand by Minho's side, also holding the handle slightly. Jisung raises his eyebrows at the two of you and with a smile that you don't think twice about, Jisung laughs.

"I'm coming over tonight."

"Sure," you throw your thumbs up at him, stretching your arm. Minho smiles softly at you, his eyes lingering a little longer at your happy figure and he feels his heart beat a little quicker at your sight. Your hair strands framing your face so beautifully, eyes shining the minute you find the exact thing you've had in your mind and your lips curving upwards in joy.

Lee Minho finds the calmness that spring brings him every year in him all over again with you by his side.

"Bring the soju. Beer is on us!"

Jisung: binnie, binnie!! Changbin: yes, baby? Jisung: i think i have a plan. Changbin: let them be, babe. Jisung: we let them be all these years! they pinned after each other without even knowing and we had to see that painfully! Changbin: i guess you make a valid point there Jisung: is it going to rain today? Changbin: it's been raining for the last few days, sungie. it could. just because i study geography as my minor doesn't mean i can forecast weather. hey! Jisung: fine~ i'm going to get them to confess tonight 👀 Changbin: don't mess up. istg Jisung: trust me 🥺 Changbin: i do. more than ever ❤️

Jisung reaches your doorstep at sharp nine. With two bottles of soju in his hands, you see the stains of the droplets of rain falling onto his shoulder.

It is drizzling for now and you worry if it is to rain heavily in a few minutes as the forecast mentioned. You hate the thunder. You hate how the weather changes drastically and worsens to a point that it frightens you and makes you anxious. It's a phobia you have managed to hide from everyone for fears of being treated weaker.

Jisung makes himself at home. He always has. He places the soju bottles on the kitchen countertop and Minho smiles to himself as he walks towards the point where Jisung has happily seated himself. Minho and you are on the other end of the counter while Jisung sits on the adjustable chair, swirling in it before stopping and facing you, Minho and the bottles of soju before him.

"Did it finally hit him?"

"I think?" You whisper back.

"I'm right here!" Jisung yells and you smile. Minho pulls the chair from under the counter and sits himself opposite the other male, pressing his lips together and trying to not laugh. He opens the bottle of soju after shaking it and hitting it against his elbow for a while. It clinks open, the metal hitting the glass before falling onto the table and you watch the two, as Minho pours a drink for Jisung.

He downs it in one go, letting out a loud sigh before stretching his arms and demanding a second one.

"Go easy, Sungie. You have the whole night."

"I don't," he huffs. "Now, please."

Minho pours it again before looking at you and you shake your head to indicate that you wouldn't mind a few. You grab hold of one of the empty cups on the counter before stretching your arm too. Minho laughs – a soft chuckle, so airy and light that you find yourself holding your breath for a small second there – and he pours you your drink.

You twirl your drink, watching the liquid glide against the surface of the cup. Your best friend gets up and walks a little into the kitchen to open the fridge and grab a box of leftovers of fried chicken that you bought a few days ago. He pulls open the microwave to heat it and as he waits, he turns to look back at Jisung and asks him finally.

"Do you want me to drop a word to my uncle?"

"About?"

"He heads the Cheongsam Publication," Minho reveelas, pulling out the chicken from the microwave. He places it before the two of you and almost like you and Jisung were zoomed in, in an American sitcom, both of you gasp dramatically.

"Am I really your best friend?" Jisung yells and you narrow your eyes at Minho. Faking tears in his eyes, he persists in questioning, "Do I not matter to you, Minho?"

"Why are you rooming with me when you could possibly afford a whole room on your own?"

"Yes, Jisung," Minho sighs and sits back on his chair. You bend forward, arms folded against the table as you stare at your best friend in betrayal. "Also, Y/N, don't you love having me around?"

He laughs and rests his head on your shoulder suddenly, causing you to stiffen them in response. Your eyes drift to the left, trying to not make it overtly obvious that Minho's sudden reaction has taken you by surprise. Your eyes land forward on Jisung who looks at you as if he knew this all along, as if he wanted exactly this. The man has a goddamn smirk plastered on his face.

Jisung downs two more shots and you look at him with a raised eyebrow, mumbling, "Slow the fuck down. No one's chasing you."

"Yeah, my goddamn plan," he mumbles before coughing and taking another. Minho sits up straight, finally lifting his head from your shoulder. He stretches his arm to pat Jisung's shoulder in comfort.

"I'll drop a word."

"Now, don't you dare go and say that you want to earn it and all that bullshit," you sigh. "It's the fucking Republic Of Korea. Nepotism is the norm."

"Not planning on saying that," Jisung glares at you. Clearly, Jisung is slightly tipsy, having been the only person to keep drinking. You and Minho opt to just watch over Jisung for the night. Your best friend puckers his lips in Minho's direction and blowing kisses, he says, "I love you, Minho."

"Changbin wouldn't like you saying that to another man though," you scoff and Jisung flips you the middle finger before downing one more and standing up. The thunder rattles the three of you exactly then and you grip the table, face turning pale instantly. Minho's attention darts to you quickly in concern.

"You okay?" You hum in response, unconvincingly though to Minho whose gaze lingers on you in worry for just a while more. That is, till Jisung rips it away by dramatically placing the back of his hand on his forehead and playing the damsel in distress as he gasps so loudly, staring at the big window.

"It's raining heavily," he sighs and you shudder, afraid of another thunderstorm as you grip tightly on the side of the table.

"So?" Minho asks, both eyebrows raised at the man before him, looking at the two of you with doe eyes.

"I'm staying over, thanks," he rushes and runs to your bedroom, quickly shutting the door and latching it and you and Minho stare at each other. As soon as the realisation of what could happen dawns over you, you rush to your closed bedroom, fists banging against the wooden door.

"Yah, Han Jisung," you turn to look at Minho who watches you in amusement. "Open the fucking door."

"No. I don't want to go back home in the rain. You and Minho can share the bed. I am never opening the door. Good night."

"What the fuck? Yah, Sungie, stop acting like a child. Open the door now." You hear no response. "Sungie? Answer me. Open the door please." Minho walks over to you, and tries knocking too, in vain however because Jisung has no plans to open the door.

You look at Minho, the man slightly towering you as he stands by your side and you gasp. You had to share the bed with the same man you just realised you could, perhaps, have developed feelings for?

"Fuck."

Jisung: it finally seems to be working, binnie! luck's on my side this time. Changbin: oh baby. just please don't be disappointed if it doesn't work out this time either. Jisung: i won't be because it's definitely going to work out. eeeee! i'm so excited!

Another thunderstorm ripples through the air.

Your heart beats quicker in anxiety, eyes squeezing shut as you grip tightly on the pillow, a light whimper leaving your lips. You feel the mattress shuffling underneath you and in the next minute, your ears are covered by Minho's hands. You stiffen as he edges closer to you, his chin resting on your shoulder as his palm pressed against your pinna, covering your ear completely to protect you from the loud sounds of the thunder.

"Minho, what—"

His hand on your right ear slightly shifts to the side as he bends forward to whisper into your ear, to amplify the sounds enough as a way to distract you.

"You never ever told me you were scared of thunderstorms."

Lee Minho is way too close to you to think straight. You feel his body pressed against your back, heat radiating from him to you through your oversized hoodie. His breath is harsh against your skin as he leans close to whisper into your ear. And all this in an attempt to forget the thunderstorm.

So far, it's working like magic.

Your voice is almost small when you inform him, "We never happened to be in the same place during one," and Minho swears to God, he could lose it completely. All the self control to not confess and take you there is so ready to be shoved out of the window that all he can do is try and focus on worrying about your fears.

"I'll protect you," he mumbles so softly that you turn around to look at him. His eyes are bright in the soft lights in his room and as he lies by your side, so close that you can hear his heart that beats faster and his breath that is shallow, your lips part and you watch him.

You are fully justified for falling in love with this man.

A man that tells you he'd protect you from your fears, god alone knows how, but the fact that they don't seem like empty words. A man that you know like the back of your hand and the same man that seems to have protected you all throughout your life, even if you have done the same. It was inevitable. Falling for Lee Minho is inevitable.

And that's why you kiss him. Because you're in love with him so badly that all you can zero in is him, him, him.

Your lips press against his, so softly for a split second. As if you are unsure. As if you know you could be ruining years of friendship over something the two of you could consider a mistake.

You kiss him and suddenly it's the only thing that matters to you right now. Him, him, him. Your lips are slow and soft against him. It is almost as if you are reminding yourself that there has been nothing more morbidly right than this. To fall in love with your best friend. Minho's hand slowly lifts up to rest below your ear, his thumb caressing your cheek as your breath mingles only for a split second — one filled with hesitance and uncertainty — before you pull away, looking at your best friend.

It is just a second of a kiss and with Minho so stiff by your side, you panic, and ramble. "I'm sorry. I should have thought it could be unrequited. I like you and I should have asked—”

Minho crashes his lips on yours, so quickly that it takes your breath away and cuts your sentence in half, but you don't care. He pulls you towards him, hands cupping your face tightly and angling it to kiss you, encasing your lower lips in his as he moves against your pink ones. You let out a small gasp as you deepen the kiss, running your fingers down his spine, holding him as close as possible until there is no space left between the two of you. It is just you and him in this small room. Just you and him in focus. You can feel the beating of his heart against your chest. Loud, clear and unknown to you that it beats for you in this minute. That it has always been beating for you.

Minho presses his tongue to the seam of your lips and, the minute you let him in, he delves inside your mouth, tongue chasing after yours. Minho kisses you like he has finally achieved the greatest thing ever and he never wants to let it go. Minho kisses like he loves you and you feel it. You feel every ounce of it.

Your arms move up his back and tangle around his thick, strong neck. Playing with the ends of his roots, you suck on his lower lips before he pulls away and finally tells you, "I've always been in love with you, Y/N. Always."

Kissing you again, his thumb digs into the skin by your jaw as he delves deeper, as if he never wants to let you go. The air in the room heats up when your hand moves under his shirt, feeling his muscles under your skin and you moan against his lips. Minho lets go of your lips only to kiss the side of it and then your cheeks and then your jugular before he is littering kisses all over your neck. You moan explicitly, gripping on him and slightly grinding on his thigh. You feel your core heating up, arousal sticking to your panties and all you can think is,

“I want you.”

Minho swears to God that he has always loved confident women but when you shattered right before him and built your confidence right back up — that is the hottest thing he swears he has seen. That, and the fact that you had always been hot before his eyes.

“Really?” Minho lifts himself up and hovers on top of you.

“Really,” you decide to respond before you cup his face and pull his face closer to yours. You don't pull him in for a kiss just yet. Your eyes zero on him, trying to cancel out the loud thunderstorms in the background and just focus on the man before you that you love, that you've been in love unknowingly for a while.

You just hold his face and learn. You try to remember every single detail of his face that you never focussed on before.

You realise over again that his eyes are your favourite thing. They are black as charcoal and yet still shimmer as if stars are trapped and enclosed beneath them. And when he narrows them to look at you with a daze, your heart throbs and you gulp. They make your heart hurt whenever they fix on you.

You know his skin is soft as you touch. As creamy and velvety as they are, you can't stop touching him.

His mouth is a pretty shade of coral, plump and pouty and honestly so kissable it hurts to look at it for more than a few seconds. You wonder how you haven't driven yourself to kiss him yet. All these years.

Everything about his face is soft and delicate, that is till he turns a little to the side and angles it perfectly, his head backward and you can clearly see the sharpness of his jawline; the distinct manly cut that makes your mouth dry and your heart beat faster.

“You are perfect,” you gulp, your eyes back on him and Minho smiles widely. His warm breath caresses your face and his forehead is pressed against yours immediately.

“You know what else is perfect, baby?”

“No,” your voice is airy, even though you already know what he is going to say. You know it and yet the thought causes your heart to skip a bit, and flutter a lot in your chest.

“You and everything you have to offer. You are not average. You are one of the most perfect women I've seen in my whole life, Y/N,” he says. As soon as the words spill from his mouth, your lips are on his, claiming his mouth, the same ones that whispered into your ear that there is nothing to be afraid when he's right there by your side.

He gasps loudly as your hands leave his face and move to his hair to pull him down towards you — you need him so close to you. Your fingers get lost in his thick locks as you tug on them, forcing him to bend a lot forward and gladly welcome the intrusion of your tongue.

His lips are as soft as feathers and they feel like what you think heaven feels like. The warmth you experience is so much more than the tingle of first kisses and those innocent butterflies have nothing on the wanting void of a pit in your nether regions and the slick in between your thighs.

His hands slide down from your hips to reach behind your back and pull you upwards, only to tightly clasp around the curve of your bottom cheeks.

“Minho,” you groan against his lips after he pulls away from you. His lips are red and swollen, slick and shining with your saliva and so incredibly inviting you all over again and you fear that you may never want to stop kissing him for as long as you are breathing. You fear getting too addicted to this human – more than you already are – to a point where you need to be attached to him by the hip, to never let go of him.

Minho's lips move from your swollen lips to the curve of your jaw, down to the curved edges of your neck, sucking and kissing every exposed skin.

His hand moves from your clothed arse to under your hoodie, hand pressed against your back as he pulls you closer and forwards, until your chests are pressed against one another. His mouth is everywhere and god, you feel infinite and powerful.

His lips hover on yours. He smiles widely and you think it's cute. He inches his chin forward, flicking your nose a little with his own, a shy smile on his lips as he silently asks the permission to claim your lips anew; all over again.

You nod your head to signal yes. You hold your breath and your eyes flutter shut, awaiting him and his warmth.

Minho's kiss is slow and delicate at first. It is drawn out in a way that makes you want more, so much more, that you want to pull him in and suck the life out of him and yet, at the same time, it is precious and laced with not only the passion of the moment but also the tenderness of a first time together.

It makes your insides twitch and your heart lunge and it fogs up all of your thoughts to the point you feel yourself drowning in the sensation of his lips, pressed tightly on your own.

Your heart is beating quicker than ever in your chest, against your ribs, and you pull him even closer, so tight your chests have no choice but to heave against each other with every single breath you take. You don’t want to let him go, not now, not tomorrow, not ever.

Minho is something you desperately want to hold onto in your life. He knows your secrets, your everything. He knows what you like and how you like it. He seems to know everything and the thought of letting him go aches your heart and constraints your throat with a sob you wouldn't dare to let out. You want him to be completely yours.

And these thoughts turn you desperate. They force you to make the kiss deeper, to lick his lips and bite them down, to gulp down every sigh and whimper that comes out of him and make them your own. To make him yours.

Your eyes flutter shut, taking in the way his mouth moves over yours, arching further into him. You groan into his mouth and his grip on your back tightens instantly.

“I want you so much, Minho,” you whimper against him after your lips part from his. You lick your lips and gaze at him with your partially closed eyes. “So fucking much.”

“Then, have me. Take me,” Minho purrs against your exposed skin. In a minute, he pulls the oversized hoodie over you, leaving you in just your undergarments as he discards it to the side. His mouth moves over the skin above your breasts and his hand traces the bra you are wearing. He gazes at it and mumbles before latching his mouth back on your skin, “You are so fucking beautiful. Always have been.”

You gleam in pride and your body arches at the contact of his mouth on your skin. Your hands are on the side of his face as you pull him away.

“Can I?”

“Have me? Yes. Completely,” he smiles. He wonders if you are confident. That's all that he hopes when you look at him so unsure and so doubtingly.

You wet your lips again quickly, your breath coming out in hot puffs of air. Your hands immediately rush to his top, roughly pushing it above. Minho helps you out and pulls it completely away. You are blinded by the passion burning inside of you, your hands eager to explore and touch every expanse of his glowing skin. You want to touch, feel, have a complete experience. You want Minho to remind you of everything you are missing out on.

Your lips attack his neck in a hurry, all rough and passionate on his tender, soft skin, blooming red roses that turn purple against it. You repeat your actions till he’s softly moaning out your name, almost purring them out that you feel yourself becoming slicker. His hands on your back pull you closer and into him so that you won’t stop tainting his flesh and slowly, his soul, in the best ways possible.

Minho whines and sighs and grunts for you. He doesn't hold himself back as his lips leave appreciation for who you are. He closes his eyes as he parts his lips to whimper out your name with every new thing you find that excites him and it drives you absolutely insane.

You know you should not but you can’t stop wondering how he would sound like as you fuck him hard, rock on his cock to milk his orgasm, make him beg not to stop. You desperately want to break him and draw all these nice sounds out of him, but you know it would most probably be the other way round. Minho allows you to take control occasionally but you know he wants the lead. He wants to be the one to break you apart and pull you back together.

He pulls back from you, his hands leaving your back and resting on either of your sides. Minho's dark hair brushes over his crescent lidded eyes and nearly shields the hungry, desperate gaze of them. His hand plays with the strap of your panties as his gaze flickers between affection and lust. He cocks his head to the side before asking, “You do want this, right?”

You nod, hoping it would be enough and that he would resume.

“I need to hear you say it out loud, baby,” he firmly says and you gulp.

“Yes, yes. Minho, fuck, I want this. I need this,” you whine, your eyes glassy, as you grip his forearm to lift yourself up and grate and move against the evident bulge on his jeans.

Minho merely needs that verbal confirmation. He pulls away your panties, resting on your hips and you groan. Still hovering above you and his hands over your pubic mound, his fingers trail lower and you tug at your lower lip in anticipation. Easily, he finds your clit, and begins to rub in slow, languid, lazy motion, up and down, waiting for the moan he so loves to hear from you to spill from your mouth. He grins when he hears those little whimpers and you feel your legs lose mobility from the pleasure he brings you with just a flick of his finger.

Your back slightly arches off the soft mattress upon the bed when his finger leaves your clit to draw a line up your wet slit, collecting as much of your arousal as he can before slipping his glistening fingers out to admire them in the light. Your cheeks taint pink in embarrassment.

“Fuck,” Minho moans, taking his coated finger into his mouth to suck your juices from it. His eyes flutter shut as if he’s tasting the sweetest aphrodisiac ever known and your lips part at this sight. Lee Minho looks irresistible and you want him, completely.

“God,” he groans. Minho slides himself down your body until he’s in level with your pussy. His eyes gazed at it in sheer adoration and your hand slapped against your mouth. He takes two fingers to spread your lips apart for a better view. “You’re dripping, baby girl.”

You wail as he drags a finger up and down your slit, playfully teasing your fold, making you whine his name out loud. The way you plead for him, beg for him, grind down on his teasing fingers, all set a fire inside you. This has been what you had been craving for so long. The ability of this man to cloud your thoughts and set your body on fire makes you yearn for him even more.

“Minho,” you cry out, whimpering underneath him. “Fingers. I need you. Please, Minho.”

You gasp, your voice airy, when the tip of his finger tentatively slips into you while your fingers dig at his shoulders between your thighs. “Minho, I want you. I just really want you. I need to feel you. Please.”

He drags his finger out of you before you clutch onto him, feeling the need to be overwhelmed. He presses his thumb on your clit and a whimper leaves your mouth.

“Minho.” And he slides his digit in again almost as if on cue. He pumps his finger in and out of you as his thumb harshly rubs circles on your clit. Your hand leaves your mouth and grabs your hair as the other digs further into his shoulder.

His mouth leaves hot air against the skin covering your acetabulum and you shudder. His lips graze from there till your thigh before biting on them, sucking them deliriously and leaving you as a whimpering mess.

“Minho, fuck!” You scream, your fingers grabbing your hair to hold control of your body.

“That's it, baby,” he says against the skin of your thighs. “How I've wanted those beautiful lips to scream out my name from when I've felt them.”

Minho adds another finger and your eyes are screwed shut as he curls them within you and you gasp at the feeling of being widened. You are elated and you feel your arousal leaking down your thighs. He rubs your inside and your clitoris faster and you push your hips towards him, moving with his pace. Minho is also leaving beautiful purple marks in a trail on your thigh and you gape in awe.

You find it all too much. Your emotions are all over the place and your hormones rise up. The movement of his fingers inside you and around your clit, his lips attacking your erogenous spots, kissing, biting and licking short stripes on them. It finally gets to you and you scream his name out in pleasure. Your first orgasm comes crashing down upon you, blinding you. You release all over his fingers and Minho helps you ride out your high as he drags his finger repeatedly but this time, slower than what had been.

Your head lifts up and hits the pillow slightly as it tilts away. Minho moves upwards, hovering over your face and smiles. You smile back. You are so happy and you do not know how to put it into words.

“Minho?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks?”

“For what?” He looks at you quizzically.

“That was my first orgasm in months now that wasn't brought about by my own fingers,” you smile wearily and Minho leans forwards and kisses your forehead.

"Should have come to me," he laughs.

"Didn't know if I'd be ruining our friendship."

"Pfft," he scoffs, before kissing you again, his lips gliding against yours and piecing in as if they were always meant to be against yours. "I've been in love with you forever."

"Took me a while to know my own feelings," you mumbles. “Also,” you continue, hoping he listens to your request. “Can I . . . ride you?”

Minho is stunned. There are so many things about you that stuns him and maybe it's the way you try to take control that make you look so much hotter before his eyes.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you plead. “If that is not a bother to you.”

“Why would it? Your wish is my command, but only for this night. Next time, my love, we do this my way,” he teases and winks and your core throbs at his words.

Minho pulls himself away from your body, pulling his shirt over his head and his denim down and away. As he flings his clothes aside and relaxes against the mattress, his cock springs free against his stomach, leaking with milky precum. You sit up beside the space Minho has taken over and watch him and his cock deliriously and lustfully.

You sit up, crawling over to straddle his lap, nervousness setting into your stomach. You’re really doing this. You gulp and swallow the saliva as you look at Minho, whose gaze gives you comfort and confidence. The muscles in your arm stiffens as you grip his shoulder for stability and Minho notices.

“It’s okay,” he reassures you, sensing your reluctance and worry. He pushes back the stray hair falling over your eyes. “You're doing wonderful, babygirl. You are finally all mine. What a pretty girl and all to myself now."

You nod, biting down on your lower lip, and tugging at it harshly, cheeks heating up at his words, arousal gushing out as you look down before aligning with his cock. You want this. You needed this release.

As your folds, dripping with thick, sticky arousal, brush the tip of his hardened cock, you feel a shudder run down your spine. You instinctively allow yourself to lower further, taking the rest of him in you swiftly with the help of your arousal. Sinking down around his dick and feeling him fully wrapped around your clutching walls has you moaning out his name, gasping and panting for air, “Fuck, Minho.”

You rock your hips into him, trying this as you picture it to be, already finding yourself tightening and clenching around his thick length. He fills you up so nicely, stuffing you perfectly full and you salivate. Your lips parts and you find your hips moving on their own accord.

As much as Minho wants to give you complete power over this, it isn't like him and he wishes he could be better. Minho takes your hips in his hands, taking control of your movements to raise you up, leaving you empty and whining. You clench around nothing but air and your own walls, desperate to sink back down. “Minho,” you whine, your lower lip puckers forwards and you feel sad.

As his hand grip around your hips to get a better hold, he slams you back down on his cock, hard, causing you to scream. “Minho, ah!”

He continuously guides you in a rhythmic movement, throwing his head back into his pillows and groaning. You are glad he is helping you out because you know you could not have done it on your own after having just ridden out your high.

The sheen of sweat glistening on his chest catches your eye as he pants. The way his eyes clenched shut and his mouth hangs open with pleasure only makes you move faster around his cock. The sight before you makes you want to see him fucked out further. You want him to crumble under you because of you.

You ride him, bouncing on his dick and clenching when you feel yourself reaching your climax for the second time that night. Minho’s finger moves down and slips between your sweat soaked bodies to rub your clit, pushing you even further over the edge. Minho knows how to make a woman putty in his hands and you are a living witness of this.

“Are you going to come?” He asks, breathlessly, his voice airy and light, almost floating away. He pulls his head forward to kiss your collarbones, sucking harsh bruises against your skin, continuing further down the existing purple bruises.

“Y-Yes,” you sigh, lacing your fingers through his hair and tugging on the dark strands. “Mhm, fuck, you feel so good, Minho.” You lean forward and the motion causes Minho to whine. You quickly catch it as your lips fall on his. His lips enclose yours and he kisses you slowly and passionately as you move on his cock, lazily.

Words, unfiltered and raw, spill out from your mouth after your lips leave his as you feel the high that is creeping up slowly within you. “Minho, fuck. Oh fuck, you feel so good.”

“Then, come.”

Minho moans against your neck as he feels you, his finger rubbing your clit, “Babygirl, oh fuck. Come all over my cock.”

Minho’s other hand that is not occupied leaves your hip and moves upwards to find their place on your neck. His fingers gently wrap themselves around your neck and his eyes flicker a mischief that makes you wetter than you already are. He presses his fingers against your neck with pressure and you choke. Your mouth opens wide and your tongue falls out slightly resting on your lower lip. Your eyes roll back and your walls clench around Minho’s cock tightly.

Minho learns that your dirty liking for choking is incredibly hot. Seeing you like this is what he knows would get him to come when you are not around. Your fucked out expression as you gasp for air makes Minho plunge into you harder and you choke harder.

A final flick of his finger over your sensitive button and a bit more pressure over your neck are all it takes for your body to flood with pleasure and ecstasy. Your legs tighten around Minho's waist, curling in as you ride out your high for as long as possible, still moving your hips against him. His fingers let go of your neck and you breath loudly, taking in huge gulps of air.

Not long after your undoing, he comes inside you, coating your walls with his seed as you feel his length pulsate within you.

Once your body falls limp against his chest, equally fucked out and panting for air, you feel him going soft inside you. He lifts you up, slowly slipping out of you and gently laying you by his side. His fingers rub small circles on your hips after pulling you closer into him.

“Hey,” you say and smile.

Minho kisses your forehead and then, the peak of your nose, and finally, kisses your lips, softly. It isn't lustful or anything. Just plain passion seeping from him to you. You feel his admiration and an emotion you fear to mistake for love. He pulls away and smiles, “Hey, beautiful.”

He comes closer and licks the side of your neck, where he had wrapped his fingers out. The one fantasy that you are so in love with. He peppers soft kisses around it and mumbles an apology.

“No,” you quickly stop him. “That was everything. I— I really like you." Pausing, the thought crashes your head, post your high and you mumble, "Fuck, I fell in love with my best friend."

You nuzzle into his chest after he pulls back, your arms wrapping around his body as you calm yourself. Minho chuckles into your ear, "Yes, yes. You clearly did. What do we do now?"

"Take responsibility." You mumble as you slowly find yourself feeling sleepy. Your eyes are slowly drooping and your voice lowers in tone, words drifting away almost, “You better take responsibility for my feelings and take care of me.”

“It'd truly be my honour,” Minho mumbles, lifting you slowly to push his one arm beneath your neck. He uses the other hand to push your hair away from your face. Kissing your forehead, lips lingering for a while, he smiles to himself, laughing slightly as he asks you, "Was the schlong good?”

You laugh softly, snuggling into his chest, fist against it as you try to fall asleep, thunderstorms long forgotten. Kissing his chest, you giggle, "Best ever schlong I have ever had, baby. All mine to keep now."

Jisung: can you pick me up? Changbin: this late? Jisung: i just wanted them to confess. not fuck like bunnies. useless fact i learnt today: they are both loud in bed. Changbin: i'm laughing off the bed literally!!! also!!! Jisung: yeah? Changbin: and they were roommates! Jisung: god, they were roommates. 🙄❤️

#stray kids smut #minho smut #lee know smut #skz smut #lee minho smut #minho x reader #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #minho imagines #minho scenarios #lee know scenarios #kpop smut #stray kids imagines #writings.rue

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Kaleidoscope of Death, Extra 6

Kaleidoscope of Death by Xi Zixu Link to Chinese / Novel Updates

Extra: Twin Lives, Twin Deaths (3)

The first person to leave a door could gain a hint about the next door. This was preferential treatment and leniency that the door awarded the victor. This was also an affirmation of strength.

But what many people didn't know was that when only one person was left in a door, that person, upon leaving the door, would earn a very special sort of hint. The person who possessed this hint gained not only detailed insight into the next door, but also a chance to save their own life.

For reasons, Ruan Nanzhu had never told Cheng Yixie about this. Cheng Yixie only learned about it by accident.

And Cheng Yixie, after just barely scraping his way out of the seventh door, had also come to a realization. He'd realized that he couldn't protect Cheng Qianli. The world of the doors was treacherous and ever-changing; no matter how smart he was, he was just a mortal in the end, and all mortals made mistakes. Mistakes in daily life may be utterly unimportant, but mistakes made inside the doors could cost you your life.

Cheng Yixie returned to the mansion, saw Cheng Qianli's brilliant grin embracing Toast, and made a silent decision.

Everything that followed became so reasonable.

Cheng Yixie was clever, and when clever people did bad things, they were naturally adept.

"Do you have any idea what you're doing, Cheng Yixie." Ruan Nanzhu very quickly figured out Cheng Yixie's deviancy, and he and Cheng Yixie had their very first explosive argument. "You're going to get Cheng Qianli killed, as well as yourself!"

Against Ruan Nanzhu's accusations, Cheng Yixie chose silence.

"Stop this, while you still can," Ruan Nanzhu said. "Don't wait until it's too late to turn back…"

Cheng Yixie gave Ruan Nanzhu an answer. He said, "Cheng Qianli's not even eighteen yet."

He held onto the railings, looking out over the lush green yard where Cheng Qianli and Toast were chasing each other around in play.

"If only one of us can survive, I hope it to be him."

Ruan Nanzhu, "but there are other ways. You're choosing the stupidest method—"

"But it's the most lucrative." Cheng Yixie was no older than fourteen, but there wasn’t any trace of a child's innocence to be found in his eyes. His pupils were deep lakes, in which were hidden things even Ruan Nanzhu couldn't comprehend. "Sorry, Ruan-ge, I really can't just watch Qianli die."

Ruan Nanzhu knew he had no chance of convincing Cheng Yixie. He said no more, and walked away.

At this point, the worst that Cheng Yixie had done was let people go to their deaths. But after…Cheng Yixie closed his eyes. He never wanted to talk about what happened after anymore.

Once someone broke their bottom line, it was like plunging into a quagmire; you could only keep sinking.

Had it been anybody else, Ruan Nanzhu would likely have already kicked Cheng Yixie out of Obsidian. But Cheng Yixie was just a kid. He was like a fresh-grown sapling that, before it could even grow up straight, got snapped at the waist by the battering rains and winds.

Cheng Yixie began to sink deeper and deeper in to the abyss, until he had no way of ever getting out.

Everybody said what went around would always come back around; Cheng Yixie thought that he would be the one to pay for the things he did. Once people do wrong, they had to pay a price. Cheng Yixie was willing to pay for his sins with his life.

But on the day retribution truly came, Cheng Yixie finally learned that some things didn't happen as easily as he's imagined.

The tenth door was hellishly difficult.

Even with the special hint slip, Cheng Yixie was running on the last of nine lives inside.

Just as he had Cheng Qianli, and the two were stumbling their way to the door, they discovered that where the door should have been was instead a giant green bronze statue. The statue was beastly and looked like a demon, and the green bronze encasing it was beginning to crack, revealing hard skin as black as lava rock underneath.

Seeing such a scene, Cheng Yixie knew the monster before him was about to wake. Though the door was right behind it, they still couldn't make their way through.

"Gege," Cheng Yixie spoke quietly, standing behind Cheng Yixie. "I'm scared." The hand he held Cheng Yixie's with was covered in sweat, and there was a helpless tremor in his voice.

"Don't be scared, I'm right here," Cheng Yixie comforted Cheng Qianli quietly. He took a deep breath, and then stuck a hand in his pants pocket, settling on the sharp dagger folded inside. "Just listen to me, and it'll be fine."

Cheng Qianli scooted closer. He seemed to have sensed something, and wrapped Cheng Yixie up in a tight embrace. They were twins, after all; they felt everything together. Through the thin clothing between them, Cheng Yixie could feel the heat of Cheng Qianli's body as well as the anxiety in Cheng Qianli's heart.

"Gege." Cheng Qianli's voice was filled with woe, and even sounded a bit choked. "Is it about to come to life?"

The monster behind them had already exposed the blood red of its eyes. The giant jaw packed full of fangs began to savagely snap. It looked ready to pounce at any moment.

"Mh," Cheng Yixie said. "But it won't be able to hurt you."

"Why am I so stupid?" Cheng Qianli said. "If only I were smarter." His tone of voice was agonized. "If only I were smarter, then Gege wouldn't have to work so hard…"

Cheng Qianli's arms around Cheng Yixie slowly began to loosen, and his voice too grew faint.

"But no matter how stupid I am, I still know what Gege wants to do…"

Cheng Yixie felt that something had gone wrong. His voice froze for a moment, and he slowly turned his head.

"Qianli…"

"Hey, I brought one too," Cheng Qianli said. "I hid it in my pants pocket, just like you."

He was smiling, but was likely also in agony—this smile was particularly hideous.

Cheng Yixie’s head inched down, and he saw a dagger stuck in Cheng Qianli’s chest. Bright red blood was flowing like a babbling brook down his chest, soaking his clothes and puddling on the ground.

Cheng Yixie saw that dagger, and felt himself reeling. He opened his mouth to say something, but the image before him appeared to have utterly stolen his ability to talk. He couldn't say anything, and his body slowly slumped forward.

"Ge…it hurts…" Cheng Qianli collapsed in Cheng Yixie's arms, black eyes big and staring. His pupils reflected Cheng Yixie's figure. He called, "Ge…"

"Aah…Aaaah!!" A wretched scream came out of his mouth, and Cheng Yixie could only watch as Cheng Qianli's breaths grew fainter. The roar of the monster behind him came from a spot directly over Cheng Yixie's head, but Cheng Yixie didn't turn around. The monster lunged at him and—

A black shadow enveloped Cheng Yixie. He ought to have been torn to pieces by the monster, but a faint sheen of light was emanating from his body. It partitioned the monster's attack directly away from him.

In Cheng Yixie's arms, Cheng Qianli's chest had stopped moving. With a numb expression Cheng Yixie turned around, spotting that huge black door behind the monster. He saw that door and stumbled to his feet with Cheng Qianli in his arms. He made a run for that door, unlocking it with the key drenched in blood. He still wanted to see Cheng Qianli again. There were still so many things he hadn't said to him.

Cheng Yixie sprinted out that tunnel like he had gone crazy, grabbing the Cheng Qianli outside in an embrace. The moment Cheng Qianli offered him a smile, mouthful after mouthful of blood began pouring out of Cheng Qianli's mouth. Cheng Qianli touched his face, called him Ge, told him not be sad.

Cheng Yixie was wailing. His Qianli, this was his Qianli—the kid he loved the most still hadn't been able to grow up. Hadn't even passed his eighteenth birthday. Certainly hadn't gotten to see all the beautiful sceneries of the world like he'd hoped.

What came afterwards, Cheng Yixie didn't really remember. He didn't really remember how he got through that time. By the time he came back to himself, he'd already left Obsidian, and was crossing doors with Zhuo Feiquan.

Zhuo Feiquan, like him, was a person left behind at the end of the world. Zhuo Feiquan no longer had a sister, and Cheng Yixie no longer had a brother. Zhuo Feiquan's luck was just a lot better than Cheng Yixie's, that's all—he had a pendant that his sister's soul laid in.

"Hey, you're not planning on getting me killed inside the doors and stealing my pendant, are you?" Zhuo Feiquan spoke frankly. "I'm telling you, I'm hardy as hell."

Cheng Yixie looked at him, answering faintly, "forget it. I thought about it, but it's better not to do it."

"Why not?" Zhuo Feiquan asked.

"I'm afraid he'll have to pay for the bad things I do again." Cheng Yixie's tone was cold. "Look, isn't that the case now?"

He didn't even dare to die, because his life had been traded in for Qianli's. That little fool had to be smart just this once, but this one time was all it took to torture him to death and back.

Zhuo Feiquan threw back his head and laughed.

To have experienced the same pain of losing family, the two actually had an odd resonance. Only those days didn't last. Zhuo Feiquan died in his own tenth door, and before dying, he placed his pendant in Cheng Yixie's hand. He didn't say anything, because both of them already knew.

Cheng Yixie clutched the pendant that Zhuo Feiquan gave him and managed a smile, meaning he had accepted Zhuo Feiquan's good will.

Once he had the pendant, Cheng Yixie wondered if he should use it to summon Cheng Qianli. But after thinking about it, he didn't do it. Because he remembered that Cheng Qianli was scared of ghosts.

If he wasn't there, Cheng Qianli could only wait around inside the doors. That was probably another kind of torture.

Cheng Yixie wouldn't do that to him.

The days went on one at a time. So Cheng Yixie thought that this would be the end of his and Cheng Qianli's story. He still went through doors in a state of numbness. He might die inside one of these days, but to the him right now, death seemed more like a merciful blessing and escape.

This continued on like this until Cheng Yixie went into his own eleventh door.

In his eleventh door, when he saw Tan Zaozao on television, Cheng Yixie became conscious of something. He left the hospital that he'd entered the door through in a hurry. He went back to his house and knocked on that familiar door.

Moments later, the door opened to reveal a face completely identical to his. And when he saw Cheng Yixie, he looked on with a stunned expression.

Cheng Yixie began to laugh, ignoring Cheng Qianli's shock completely and wrapping him up in a hug. He said, "idiot, Gege's been looking for you for such a long time." I thought that once I'd lost you, I would never get you back.

Good thing that now, he was finally found.

And since he was found, staying in this illusory world of the door seemed to be…not all that bad.

The once-split soul merged back together then, from two to one, just like the moment they were birthed from their mother's body. A satisfied smile appeared on Cheng Yixie's face. He dried the tears at the corners of his eyes and watched as the sun outside the window slowly descended beneath the horizon.

Translator’s Note:

Look, I need those of you who have even a passing understanding of Chinese to suffer this passage with me: 程一榭嚎啕大哭，他的千里，他的千里啊——他心愛的小孩還是沒能長大. The original is simply “HIs Qianli, his Qianli ah...” Just a fucking WAIL. Like me. Just fucking head back, sobbing at the ceiling.

[Extra: Twin Lives, Twin Deaths(2)] | [Extra: Bai Ming and Zhang Yiqing]

#kaleidoscope of death #xi zixu #cnovel #chinese translation #死亡萬花筒 #look mother i'm crying again #but this counts as HE i think #we get a break in the next extra #and then the last extra is Tan Zaozao ahahahah--#look i'll get those two done at the same time too #and recommend you read the tzz one first bc #y'know #then you get to end on a cheery stupid gays note

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pocketfulofrogers · 3 years

Text

To Outlive the Devil

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Summary: A good save and a case practically solved leads to intelligence almost losing one of their own. Can you get out before it’s too late?

Notes: Canon violence, nothing worse than a typically dark episode. This is a past and present cut together story and it’s just shy of 4k.

Now

Your bleary eyes open up to a cold and damp bedroom. An abandoned… apartment? The peeling wallpaper had given way to yellow stained drywall. From the small window on your left, it appeared as if you were several stories in the air, but there were no distinguishable landmarks that told you if you were even still in Chicago.

As you begin to come to your senses more, you feel the thick rope tied around your wrists and ankles. The rough material burns against you skin and you notice you already have sores.

How long have I been here?

Your memory is fuzzy and your head throbbed violently. It isn’t until you shift uncomfortably that you realize it’s a heavy metal chair you’re tied to.

Slowly your body begins to pick up on the danger your muddled brain had managed to identify and your pulse begins to quicken. As much as you try, your heartbeat continues to pound in your head as you try to twist your arms free.

The pain that responds is only a small price to pay for even the chance of freedom. Desperately, you continue to twist and pull until one of the knots manages to loosen up enough for you to squeeze your hand out. It’s just a short sprint to the front door in front of you.

You will your frozen fingers to work faster as you pinch and tear at each knot and then internally scream at your stiff muscles to carry you forward just a little bit more.

When your hand reaches the doorknob and it isn’t locked, relief floods your system. But when you’re able to wrench the door open, the person behind the door barely registers in your mind before everything goes black once again.

Then

Jay leans against his fist on his desk and tries to keep his frustration at bay. They’d been at this for two days straight and had been on the case for the last three months. “That’s two bodies in as many weeks. Is no one else starting to think…”

“That maybe hunting Chicago’s very own Criminal Minds level serial killer couple is out of our depth?” You interrupt, tilting your head towards him. “Doubt it.”

In fact, over the last two weeks, it’s the only thing you could think about. A younger woman named Madison roped, at least you were hoping she wasn’t a willing participant, into a horrific and violent life by a man you had yet to learn the identity of. You’d spent many nights pacing your bedroom, ranting and theorizing to Jay when all he wanted was just a bit of sleep.

The further you dove into it, however, the less hopeful you became for a quick arrest.

Voight had about ripped your head off when you suggested passing the case to the FBI and got to hear the ‘this is our city’ speech once again. But the truth was you were running out of ideas, running out of leads to chase down the rabbit hole, and running out of time.

“I hate to say it, but Voight’s right.” Antonio almost looks pained, but he continues on before you can question him. “The first time these two surfaced five years ago, CPD went full force. They shut it all down, had every uniform pulling overtime, and tried to smoke them out. Instead, it scared them into hiding.”

“Five girls in three months, Dawson, they’re escalating.” You take a breath before looking him in the eyes. “I can’t keep notifying parents.” There’s a certain pang in your voice only those who have had to watch a parent’s life crumble around them can hear. Jay reaches out to squeeze your forearm for just a bit of comfort and you run your fingers over his.

It’s enough.

“Then we end this.” Voight’s eyeing you, sympathetic to where you’re coming from, but not willing to give up yet. “Let’s find these monsters and make them pay.”

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you nod and turn to Adam. “Ok, let’s go over everything together, see if we can find something we missed.”

“Since it’s all we have, let’s revisit the address on Madison’s unemployment file.” Jay suggests.

Adam looks confused. “The house was condemned last year, torn down in the spring.”

“I know, but what about the name on the house, did anyone look into it?”

“Figured it was a stolen identity.” Kevin pipes up. “Clara Knight, died in 2012 of a heart attack at 66. No other properties in her name.”

“Knight?” Mouse perks up and starts shifting through his files. “I found a few erased emails from a Robert Knight, but I couldn’t find any relation or connection.”

Adam is already typing ferociously. “Got a death certificate for a Robert Knight, 68, died a few months ago. Seems like the guy barely existed.”

“Any children?”

“A daughter.” His face is grim. “Murdered in 99, she was 16.”

The hairs on the back of your neck prickle. “Pull up a picture of her.” You don’t need to see it to confirm what you already feared, but still the image of her face churns your stomach. A beautiful blonde girl with the hope of the whole world in her smile. “He’s been at this a lot longer than anyone thought.”

“Any property still in his name?” Voight asks.

Anxiety rippling through your chest, it feels like an eternity before Mouse nods. “His nephew Isaac put his house in Roseland on a tax form.”

Now

When you come to, the first thing you notice is that your restraints have been changed to zip ties and for a moment you’re concerned about your circulation. You’re worry is cut short by the cup of water on a table to your right, the plastic straw close enough for you to reach it.

The sudden realization of the searing pain in your throat and the cracked skin on your lips lets you know it’s probably been about two days. It’s the dryness of your tongue that overrides every single rational thought of concern that maybe the glass beside you isn’t safe to drink. But, fifteen minutes pass with no incident so whoever it is probably wants to keep you alive.

The thought sends ice down your back.

Alive for what?

“What do you want from me?” You scream into the empty apartment.

Then

“We need a vacation after this.” Jay declares as he leans the seat of the car back a little. “Somewhere warm with water so I can look at you in a tiny bathing suit all day.”

You roll your eyes, but he doesn’t miss the small smile you give before bringing the binoculars up again. “We’ll see what we can do about that.”

“Hey lovebirds.” Adam calls over the radio from the car down the street from yours. “Have you seen anything yet or are you too busy staring into each other’s eyes again?”

It’s Jay’s turn to roll his eyes. “Didn’t you just take your third piss break?”

“Hydration is very important.” He defends.

“I told him to wear the diapers.” Alvin adds. Adam tries to defend himself, but you can barely hear him over Kevin’s laughter next to him.

Just then, out of the corner of your eye, you see the movement of a curtain, the flash of blonde hair, and the air shifts. Jay immediately catches the tense set of your shoulders and starts asking questions.

“They’ve got a girl up there.” You tell him through gritted teeth.

“Are you sure? I didn’t see anything.”

You nod and get out of the car despite the hushed protests from Jay as he follows you. To do what? You weren’t sure yet but you had felt so powerless these last few months that maybe you weren’t being the most rational right now.

The curtain moves again and, rather than getting caught, you quickly spin around and push Jay against the car before crashing your lips to his. Other than a noise of shock sounding from the back of his throat, he doesn’t miss a beat.

“North corner window.” You mumble against his lips and slide your hands up his chest, tilting your head to the side to give him a better angle.

When he pulls away, he brings his phone up and looks you in the eye. “We’ve got confirmation on the nephew Isaac, but he’s got another girl up there. If we bust in, he might get spooked and hurt her.”

It’s quiet longer than either of you would like.

“What should we do, boss?” Adam asks for you.

“Do you think you can get in quietly?” Voight asks.

Jay waits for your nod. “We’re on it. Going silent.”

Picking the lock was nothing. Sneaking around a house you know nothing about except for a quick glance at a blueprint from 2005 was the difficult part. Jay splits the two of you up, sending you upstairs while he clears the lower level. Circumstance didn’t allow you the option to argue with him that splitting up in a situation like this is the worst thing to do.

He was your partner and it was your job to always have his back, as difficult as he makes it, but he’s rounded a corner into the living room before you get the chance to cuff him to you.

Your breath catches in your throat when a step on the stairs creak, but you keep moving until you find a girl in the second room you clear. She’s blind folded with on leg tied to the bed. She tenses when you approach, but relaxes once you’ve gotten close enough to whisper who you are.

“Tracey.” She says he name with a whimper and your heart breaks as you cut the rope and take off her blindfold.

When she sees you’re really who you say you are, she throws herself into your arms and begins to cry. There’s nothing more you want to do than to sit here and comfort her, but your ears picks up on a man’s voice you don’t recognize.

“Ok, Tracey, I know you’re so scared, and I can’t imagine what you’ve been through, but I need you to be brave a little longer.” You pull back and look her in the eyes. “My partner and I came in here alone. I need you to tell me where the man and woman who took you are.”

She nods. “I don’t know where she went, she left a while ago. He’s here, downstairs I think, in his office.”

There’s a crash downstairs, the sound of broken glass and your blood runs cold. Immediately, you look for any other way out, but there’s nothing. No balcony, no window, nothing. Voight’s on the radio already, but you silence him.

“Stay directly behind me.” There’s a kind of urgency in your voice that puts her even more on edge.

Creeping down the stairs, you can hear Jay struggling in the kitchen, but it sounds like he’s holding his own.

“Bringing the girl out.” You whisper into your radio and glance back at Tracey. “As soon as we get down, I want you to run to the door. Do not stop. When you get across the street there are people who will help you.” She nods but she looks terrified. “I swear I won’t let him get anywhere near you.”

It’s the door opening that alerts Isaac that something else is going on. You round the corner with your gun drawn and the scene before you makes your knees weak.

Jay is bruised and cut up, struggling against the man behind him, the arm around his neck, the gun pointed at his head.

“She said you were cops, but I told her she was paranoid.” Isaac snarls.

“Madison? Is she here?” You ask, your voice as level as your gun trained on his head. Voight is yelling over the radio, but you tune him out. “I’d love to meet her.”

He snickers and smiles wickedly. “Even if she could be caught, neither of you will be alive long enough to see it.”

He only manages a twitch before you pull the trigger and land a shot right between his eyes.

Jay falls forward, breathing heavy and you rush towards him. “Jay’s hurt!” You call out when the door is broken down. Adam kicks the gun away from the obviously dead suspect and you let them handle the scene.

“Where does it hurt? Did you get hit? I told you it was stupid to split us up! How’s your breathing?” Your hands are frantically searching every inch of his body. He has to grab your hand and grip it tight in his to stop the assault of questions rapid firing from your lips.

He sits up with a groan and kisses your knuckles when he sees the panic on your face. “I’m okay. Because of you it’s just a few cuts and bruises.” He manages a smile and you almost cry right there.

Voight places a hand on your shoulder. “Tracey is on her way to Med. Medics said she’s going to be okay. We’ve got another bus on the way for you. Nice work you two.”

Now

The creak from the front door opening pulls you from a daze and you wince at the sunlight flooding the room. A blonde woman stands before you with a duffle in her left hand and a gun in her right.

She tilts her head to the side. “You’re still alive. What a shame.”

You struggle to focus your eyes from the concussion you’re assuming she must’ve given you. “Maddison.” You croak out. “What are you doing?”

She drops the duffle next to you and grips your hair to pull your head back, pushing the barrel of the gun into your temple.

“I’m going to make you suffer.” She hisses and roughly lets you go. “I tried to warn him that you were watching us, but he wouldn’t listen.”

“Isaac?”

“Don’t say his name!” She screams and the sound cracks through your skull. “He told me to get some supplies, but when I cam back, I watched from the back window as you murdered him.”

You shake your head and try to reason with her. “Maddison, he was hurting people. He was going to kill my partner.”

“Partner.” She repeats sarcastically. “You mean Jay Halstead, your boyfriend of 3 years?” Maddison moves in front of you to revel in the fear that has filled your eyes and smiles sinisterly. “Yeah, I know who he is.”

You start quickly, the panic in your voice betraying the training you were struggling to hold onto. “If you want to kill me fine, do it. But don’t hurt him, Maddison. Please, he’s done nothing.”

She tsks as she opens the duffle and begins to pull out long metal pieces until finally, a long-barreled shot gun. “Why would I kill you when the alternative is so much better?”

You begin to struggle against the restraints as your mind starts to put together scenario after scenario of awful images. Maddison pays no mind to you begging and pleading to see reason. Instead, she pauses from building some contraption to walk over to you and jam a needle in your neck.

When you come too again, she’s sat casually in front of you. “I thought hitting you in the head again might actually kill you, and that’s not what I’m going for, so… you’re welcome.”

You glance around again and notice the barrel of the shotgun behind you just to the left of your shoulder. “Yeah, thanks.” You deadpan looking back at her. “What’s with the ‘Saw’ set up?”

She raises a brow. “Hold onto that strength while you can.” She points out the wires and hooks running along the floor and ceiling to trace it back to the door in front of you. “I used to be a STEM major. Did you know that?” She doesn’t stop long enough for you to respond. “Turns out I still remember a few things.”

You stare past her towards the door and then look quickly back to the gun, beginning to piece together her plan.

“Yes.” She coos. “It’s exactly what you’re thinking. The first person that opens that door, if he happens to be the right height, will get a life ending shot to the face. And I’d like to ask you what the chances are that anyone other than your boyfriend will be the first through the door.”

None.

For the first time you feel utterly defeated, hopeless. Madison watches closely, soaking in every moment of your anguish.

“Now you’ll know what it feels like.”

Then

You phone buzzes for the fourth time in the last hour. “Yes?”

“He’s actually insufferable, where are you?” Will speaks quickly, his tone seeping in irritation.

You laugh. “April already sent me out to get him food because he was whining so much. I am in route with a burger and some other stuff from his favorite place. Should be there in 15.”

“Thank god.” He says quietly. “Would you give it a rest? She’s 15 out with enough food to hopefully put you in a coma so I don’t have to.” You laugh as Will continues to yell at his brother.

“I almost died! Where’s your compassion?” You hear Jay yell back and only laugh harder

“You have ONE bruised rib and a concussion. I’ve seen high school football players handle worse with less complaining!”

“If it’s not so bad, why won’t you let me leave?!”

“I’m stepping up the pace, be there soon.” You laugh and hang up.

The Chicago night was chilly, but something else causes the hairs on the back of your neck begin to prickle. You don’t stop walking, don’t even pause a single step. Instead, you glance in a shop window and catch the reflection of a woman, a flash of blonde, not too far behind you.

Casually, you switch the bag of food to your other hand, but before you’re able to grab your gun, there’s a pinch in your neck and everything goes black.

Now

Jay had forced his way back to work sooner than anyone recommended. You’d been missing for 5 days. Disappeared with no trace other than your cell phone and a bag of cold diner food spilt on the sidewalk. If it were up to him, he would’ve been at his desk the moment 30 minutes hit and you weren’t there.

Alvin called two hours later telling him what they found and Adam and Antonio had to physically restrain him, Will almost sedated him. Voight promised him that they’d find you, and Jay knew they’d do everything they could, but he needed to be a part of the search.

“Did she have any enemies?” Alvin asks and he doesn’t flinch when Jay begins to laugh sarcastically.

“Any enemies? Do you hear yourself? She had tons. We all do. But let’s stop pretending like her being taken the day we closed that case isn’t connected.”

Alvin tries to sympathize with him. “We have to ask. You know the drill.”

He throws his hands up in exasperation. “Are you seriously going to treat this like any other missing person? It’s Y/N, Al! Y/N!”

“We know.” Voight says from his office door. “I made a few calls, Jay, we know where she is.” For a fraction of a second, Jay is frozen, but the thought of what you could be going through right now moves him. He’s grabbed his jacket and is in the car before anyone else has moved.

“I thought only the CIA had access to things like that.” Adam whispers lowly in the car into Kevin’s ear.

He shrugs. “Do think it’s out of the question that he’d break several constitutional laws to save any one of us?”

Adam sits back in his seat with pursed lips, nodding.

You struggle against the restraints long after Madison leaves you with only a gag in your mouth. The multiple cars pulling up and all the people shouting told you that you were running out of time. As of this very moment, you were locked into your fate of watching the man you loved die.

This was not an option.

The hard plastic digs into your ankles and wrists, your movements quickening with each door you hear them break down. You try to scream, to warn whoever was on this floor that there was a danger they couldn’t possibly see, but your muffled cries wouldn’t carry.

Tears soak the bandana shoved in in your mouth and you try to scream again.

No! Stop! It isn’t safe!

You hear Voight’s voice a few doors down and begin to try and rock the chair back and forth. It was considered heavy for a good day, and today was not that. Having not eaten or really moved in so long had left you weak and foggy. The adrenaline coursing through you veins only aiding a little in your efforts.

The sound of the front door breaking down sends a jolt of energy through you and you send yourself flying in front of the gun just as the bedroom door opens.

Jay raises his weapon at the sound before his brain can register what has happened. His wide eyes find yours just before you’ve hit the ground.

“Y/N!” He screams and rushes towards you. Frantic, shaky hands move quickly to remove the bandana and zip ties before applying pressure to your shoulder. “I need a medic!” He calls franticly over his shoulder, but when he turns back to you, he has to shut down the thought that you might not make it that long.

“You found me.” You try to say, but instead sputter blood onto your cheek.

“Oh, God.” He gasps. “You’re okay, you’re going to be fine.” But the more he says, the less you hear him.

“I love you.” You try to reach out to his face and graze his cheek, but your fingers won’t cooperate and only leave smudges of blood across his skin.

When your breathing starts to quicken and become more raged, he knows time is running out. So, in defiance of the orders and suggestions coming in through his ear piece, he lifts you up to cradle you to him and runs.

An annoying, incessant beeping is the only thing you can hear, but when you move to reach for it, a shooting pain stops you cold. You groan softly and pry your eyes open only to see both Will and Antonio hovering too close to your face.

Will starts to wave a flashlight in your eyes and you push him away. “When was the last time you guys brushed your teeth?”

Antonio chuckles softly and places his hand atop your head, his thumb brushing softly. “We got her.” He says quietly. “She couldn’t help herself. She stayed close to the scene to see the fallout and Kim caught her.”

Will nods his head towards Jay who was sleeping soundly in what you had to imagine was a very uncomfortable position. “We’ve been keeping an eye on him as well as you. Do you want me to wake him?”

You look back over at him and smile before turning back. “Better not. These are the last few moments of peace I’ll get for the next year at least. You would think someone would be a little more grateful towards you for saving their life, but I can already hear how mad he’s going to be.” Only a small part of you is joking.

“Well, I’ll get shot next time and we’ll see how you feel.” Jay’s sleep riddled voice carries from the corner, but he hasn’t opened his eyes yet. “I’ll give you an hour.” He adds before settling back in.

Now that’s the love of my life.

#jay halstead #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead imagine #Chicago PD #hank voight #antonio dawson #alvin olinsky #Adam Ruzek #kevin atwater

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rodeo-boots · 3 years

Note

Hi there! Im not sure if I've requested from you before have I?

So I was wondering if I could have a one-shot Sadie/F!ChubbyReader? Something sweet that gets steamy.

I was thinking that it could be the readers having a rough time because she thinks she's unworthy of love and the fact that she's into women makes it even harder.

Take your time, no need to rush~

Feel free to message me if you cant/won't do this I understand Xx

You hadn't requested from me before, btw. BUT I really loved writing this one for you! I hope it's what you've been looking for <3 (I also hope there are no more errors left, I only proofread this once)

Rating: Explicit

Words: 2679

Warnings: NSFW, Low Self-Esteem Reader (Body-Image issues)

AO3

––––––––––––––––––––––

It was one of the rare occasions when camp was quiet, most gang-members fast asleep as darkness spread over Clemens Point.

You had missed the silence, already used to the rambunctious songs, to the laughter and chatter of the others. Even if those good times never were to last.

These days, it was hard to achieve happiness, to feel even remotely safe, your travels East having shaken the entire group to the core.

And sometimes, you wished you had stayed in the West, had bought land and settled down like you've planned, even if that might not have changed a thing.

When it was quiet, like now, your mind often wandered, drifted along with the sounds of rippling water.

It was nice here, better than it had been up at Colter, but you still felt out of place. And no amount of fresh air or crisp water could change that.

With a sigh, you leaned further against the log behind you, your arms crossed in front of your chest where you sat.

At least in the darkness, no one had to stare at you. Had to see you.

You could just be, with no obligations to be appealing to anyone at all.

Never before had Dutch sent you out to distract any targets, to use your good looks on unsuspecting fools like the other women at camp often did. Because you had none. Or so you told yourself.

Of course it was harsh, of course you had other things to offer. But with a couple pounds too many, with chub around your cheeks and your hips, you didn't feel as attractive as you wished you would be.

You envied Abigail, Mary-Beth, Karen, Tilly... if not for their appearance then for their confidence. And Sadie? Sometimes you wished you could walk a day in her shoes, that you could stop caring about what other people thought and put on some pants.

Though you feared you'd only get stared at more like that.

Time went by without you noticing. Maybe you've nodded off somewhere down the line, the sight of the water gleaming beneath the moonlight oddly tranquil and soothing to you.

Your thoughts continued to roam, continued to shift and flow like the water in front of you.

Occasionally, you'd see a fish jump out of the lake, would hear a nocturnal bird taking flight within the nearby trees. And you yearned to be free like them; free of judgment, of society's standards, and your own low self-esteem.

You wondered if they perceived beauty like humans did, if they stared down at the two-legged, wingless creatures, saw long and flowing hair idly whipping in the breeze, or a freckled face and bright eyes and fell in love.

It would be a loss if they didn't, if they were unable to see what you did – and you decided that maybe, being a human might not be all that bad.

Sure, all you could do was behold the beauty around you. You knew you would never get a chance of something more; knew you couldn't compliment the way Sadie's yellow blouse flattered her figure and receive more than a simple "thank you".

It had always been like that – you, finding beauty in another woman, finding beauty in her voice, the sparkle in her eyes and the way she strutted and sauntered along the way. You knew you couldn't change that, knew that you would never be 'normal', but hell, you didn't want to be. If there even was such a thing as normal.

In the past, and even up to the current day, you've struggled with it. With your sexuality.

You had come to terms with it, of course, but you knew that you only stood out more with your chosen way of life. If your body wasn't enough to keep people away, your orientation might just be, and it worried you, what the others might think should you ever come out to them.

It hadn't been your intention to grow upset, your brain doing it to yourself no matter what you tried to do about it.

So you sat and stared out onto the lake, gaze blank as you simply beheld the beauty all around. Watching, and doing nothing, as always.

The sound of boots upon sand drew you out of your thoughts, your head turning to see a familiar figure approaching.

She was tall, slim, her hair braided beneath her hat. A few strands hung loose, though that only held it's special charm.

"What're you doin' out here?" Sadie asked, sitting down on the fallen tree behind you. She kept a bit of a polite distance, crossing her legs as her elbows rested upon her propped up knee.

You swallowed softly, looked back ahead and out onto the wide lake. "Just thinking," you explained, unable to come up with anything else that might explain you being restless and awake at this time of day.

The other woman hummed, her own gaze trailing over the water in front of her.

It appeared black in the dark of night, only little light reflexes showing the movement of the soft waves.

"Did someone say somethin' again?"

Her sudden words brought you back to reality, the silence between you having stretched for a couple minutes before. It wasn't rare that the less pleasant people at camp upset you over your insecurities, pointed out facets of yourself that didn't need to be addressed.

You shook your head, anyhow. Today, that hadn't been the case. Besides, you never knew Sadie paid any attention to the treatment you received. "It's me," you mumbled after a moment of consideration. "Me who made me feel like crap."

And while you huffed at the words you spoke, they were genuine. Oftentimes, it was you who made your life harder than it had to be.

Sadie pushed herself off the log, plopped down into the slightly moist sand by your side. You watched her from the corners of your eyes, unsure what she was intending to do.

But she didn't do anything, merely sat with you and stared out into the water, thinking about what you had said before.

"I did that a lot," she eventually spoke up, turning to face you. "Guess it ain't the same, but I– sat and thought a lot, too. That never seemed to help." She chuckled, but the sound was rather mirthless, her tone more serious than anything.

You had seen her in the past, had seen her sitting outside of camp, far from anyone else. She's had a broken heart to nurse, had a terrible loss to get over, and in the end she had come out stronger than ever.

"You don't gotta tell me, if you don't want. Maybe it'd make you feel better, though."

Inhaling, you thought about her words, wondered if you would even be able to put your innermost thoughts and feelings into words.

Never before had someone asked you to share them, no one ever having as much of an interest in you as that.

"It's nothing," you tried to deflect, tried to invalidate your troubles in order to not burden Sadie with them here and now.

The woman snorted, however, raised a brow as she looked at you. "Don't look like nothin' to me," she pointed out, not impolitely.

"How about this–" she sat up, her back against the log as she gestured for you to come closer, to lean back against her chest.

For a moment you could only stare in disbelief, though you took the chance now that it was offered to you. It had been a while since you've last been physically close to anyone, after all.

"Comfortable?" Sadie asked. You gave her a nod, your heart racing in your chest and beating within your ears.

Holy Shit. That hadn't been how you'd imagined this night would go.

Sadie wrapped her arms around you loosely, rested her chin atop your head. She seemed content herself, seemed like she had wanted to do that for a long while. The thought made your heart skip a beat.

"I know you think you're worse than you are," Sadie spoke up again, keeping her voice low while speaking to you. It was oddly soothing, her usual rough tone sounding more than just pleasant to your ears. "But you ain't bad. Truth be told, I admire you."

That made you pause, your breath catching in the back of your throat. "Me? For what?"

She chuckled kindly, brushing through your hair to tuck a few strands behind your ear. "For knowin' who you are, and what you want. For stayin' true to yourself no matter what anyone says."

Yet again, you hadn't expected her to be all that perceptive, hadn't expected her to know much about you at all. For as long as you've known her, your conversations had been brief, cut short by your occasional shyness and nervosity. Sadie seemed to have read you better than you ever could've thought.

"I..." you weren't sure what to say, or if you should say anything at all. The woman's arms around you were soothing, almost soporific, though the warmth pooling within you made it hard to consider dozing off.

"I always wanted t'know more about you," Sadie continued, nuzzling the top of your head, her lips brushing over your strands of hair. "Wanted to know more 'bout the beautiful woman who's stolen my heart."

You were sure this had to be a dream, that you had passed out after all and your mind was playing tricks on you by now.

But Sadie felt as real as could be, her hot breath in the nape of your neck, her arms around your waist, thighs left and right of your hips. Whatever you had thought of before, all your insecurities and doubts, it all seemed far away by now.

"Me– Me, too," you brought out, confessing to your feelings without directly doing so. Sadie was more bold and confident than you were, was more brave and straight-forward in your eyes. And just like she had said before, you admired her just as well. But most importantly, you were sure you loved her.

Feeling enlivened by her words, empowered by the warmth swelling within your heart, you turned around, straddled her lap and properly looked her in the face. "I think I love you," you properly confessed, cupping her freckled cheeks like you've wished to do for so long already.

She smiled up at you, keeping her hands on your waist for now as she leaned in, and captured your lips with her own.

The kiss didn't last as long as you've wanted it to, but upon pulling away, Sadie spoke up again; "I know I love you." Her smile grew, your forehead resting on hers when you returned the gesture.

Once your lips had met the first time, you couldn't stop yourself from going in for a second kiss. Your eyes fluttered shut, fingertips gliding along Sadie's sides and down to the hem of her shirt. Now that you knew of her feelings towards you, and were fully certain as those within yourself, you only wanted more.

She reacted in kind, teased your tongue with hers when her lips parted ever so slightly, a moan slipping into the kiss. You weren't sure if it had come from you or her, but that didn't matter much, not when your hands soon met bare skin, fingers gripping her sides while her own ran along your thighs.

"You wanna do this right here?" She asked, leaning back a little to capture your stare.

Slightly out of breath, you nodded. Hell, you didn't care where you'd do this, as long as you could feel her skin on yours.

Without missing a beat, Sadie worked on helping you out of your dress, glancing back, only to make sure camp was as quiet as it had been before.

Even if a few drunkards were still milling about, you couldn't care less, your fingers working on her buttons to relieve her off her top layer, before climbing off her lap to get her pants off her hips.

Naked, you laid back in the sand, invited her to follow you only for her lips to meet yours again. She placed her hat on top of your head, gave you a small smirk as her lips wandered lower, over your collarbone and down to your chest.

Moving boldly, her mouth latched onto one nipple right away, one hand kneading the other breast while she suckled and licked your sensitive bud.

Your breath hitched, spine curving to get closer to her heavenly mouth, your head already swimming without her having done too much just yet.

Soon enough, she had stimulated your other nipple to full hardness as well, laying down on her side next to you, and pulling you in for another kiss. "Let's keep this quiet," she muttered, her fingeres wandering once again until they reached your sex, a hum leaving her lips when she discovered the hot wetness there.

She caressed your folds, encouraged you to hitch one leg up and around her hip while coating her fingers within your slick. Slowly, her fingers circled your clit, made your hips jerk sporadically and your muscles tense here and there.

"Can I?" You had only pulled away from the kiss for a second, glancing at her while your fingers slid down her flat stomach.

"Be my guest," she grumbled, trailing lovebites along your collarbone and up to your shoulder, the small motions of her fingers on your clit steadily driving you insane.

To offer her the same kind of pleasure, your hand soon found the spot between her legs, met with an equal wetness as that between your own. You groaned, teasingly gliding your fingers through her folds before your thumb focused solely on her nub.

She gasped, almost sounding surprised, like she hadn't been touched there in a while, though that only spurred you on more. You wanted her to feel as good as possible, pulling away after another few moments only to propose another idea.

"I wanna taste you," you muttered, fingers disappearing from her soaked cunt as you laid back. Seemingly catching on right away, Sadie climbed on top, straddling your face while hers was right in front of your own crotch.

With the new position, you dove in without a moment's hesitation, held onto her hips and pulled her close as your tongue licked through her folds and up to her nub.

She moaned out, had to have bitten down on her lip to keep more sounds from surfacing before she leaned down herself, and focused on your clit right away.

Besides the sounds of your actions, the occasional slurping, squelching and your labored breaths, it was still mostly quiet, the area belonging solely to you in this moment.

You rolled your hips upwards, chased more of the heavenly feeling of her mouth on you as you felt yourself getting close.

Clearly, Sadie wasn't all that far, either, her abdominal muscles flexing while her thighs tried to squeeze your head, the motions of her tongue growing more desperate the closer she got to her climax.

It was over much too quickly, had been too long for you to hold back at all, your body tensing for a moment before releasing in a rush of endorphins that was better than anything you've had before.

You pulled back for air, slipped two fingers into Sadie's tight cunt to grant her a satisfying release as well, and watched, when she shook and trembled through her very own orgasm.

She rolled off of you after a moment, cursing under her breath as she did so.

It wasn't long before she crawled back up to you, however, before her lips met yours and you could taste yourselves upon each other's tongue.

"You fancy a midnight swim?" She asked when she pulled away, sitting back on her knees and helping you up when you agreed.

#Sadie Adler #Sadie Adler x female Reader #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfiction #nsft #my writing #rdr2 requests #tw body negativity #anarchist-lolita

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beelzegrub · 3 years

Note

can I request what would happen if we summon them while we're on human realm bc we missed them so much but lose so much blood in the process I don't really know I'm a sucker for these kind of things. thank youu!!

EDIT FROM FUTURE OP: This ask has been sitting in my drafts for months half finished and I finally found the motivation to finish. Anon, I’m so sorry for the wait. You’re a sweetheart ❤️ I was only able to do the three eldest though and I’m so sorry!!

Um hello??? I love this so much thank you!!! I thought it was kind of silly to go through all of that at the end of season 2 to just.... not use it so I’m excited about this!!!! (Sorry if this is too angsty my brain got super pumped about this and took off.

PS the request said “we” so I used a reader insert type of style. Hope that’s what you were looking for :)

MC Summons Their Demon, but at What cost?

Trigger warning!!!! Self harm/blood

How long had it been since you’d seen the him? Weeks? Months? Who knows. They all blended together after while. All you knew is that it had been too long. Why was this all so tedious? Solomon had promised to teach you the summoning ritual as soon as you could handle it. Why hadn’t he done so? Did he not trust you? Was he purposely keeping you away from the them? Surely you were strong enough at this point. Enough with the waiting. You wouldn’t sit around and any longer! You needed to see them. You needed to see him.

You flipped messily through book after book. Solomon had given you many to study for your apprenticeship. There had to be something about summoning in one of these!

“Hmm..”

You carefully read through the worn pages of one of the larger and dustier tomes. Something about this one called to you. You zoned out as you took in the information on the pages, following context clues until you found what you were looking for. The images drawn on the page seemed foreign and surprised you. A summoning circle? You had expected as much, but the repeated mentions of ‘sacrifice’ and ‘blood oath’ seemed ancient and outdated. You couldn’t help but notice there was no mention of sentimental possessions of the demon you were trying to summon as well. You were sure none of the brothers would suggest a summoning if it were dangerous though...

Out of options and out of patience, you gathered your courage and set up the ritual to the best of your ability. Things seemed to match the books instructions, at least. All that was left was the blood. You stepped into the middle of the circle and closed brought a sewing needle to the top of your finger. The book hadn’t specified the amount of blood needed, but it was better to start small, you reasoned. You closed your eyes and pricked it, quickly squeezing a single drop of blood into the center of the circle, and said the name of the person you had been desperate to see.

Lucifer

The day of the summoning, Lucifer had felt this nagging sense of danger from the moment he opened his eyes. He was so sure it was one of his brothers about to cause trouble for him once again.

Lucifer spent the day preparing for the worst. Had Mammon stolen something of vast importance? Did Levi buy another piece of cursed media? Surely Beel hadn’t eaten a poisonous dish??

That evening, tired from being on edge all day, he had retired to his study, hoping some music would help calm his nerves. He settled into his chair and closed his eyes.

Then came the pull.

It had been ages since he had felt a sensation like this. When was the last time someone had tried to summon him? Hundreds of years ago, it had to be. And it never felt as strong as this force pulling him now.

There had once been a cult of devil worshipers who sacrificed many of their members for a chance to pull him to the human world, quite surprised to find out their sacrifices had been in vain, considering Lucifer wasn’t interested in a bunch of worthless humans. But even then the tug hadn’t been this strong. Sure, he could still resist it, but the strength of it still left him awestruck. Who had the power to call to him like this?

“Lucifer!”

His blood ran cold. Immediately, he stopped resisting the call and gave in, allowing the summoning to take place.

You had done it. Lucifer was here! The strongest and most fearsome of the seven, and you had Summoned him to you. Your heart swelled when you though of how impressed he’d be when he found out you had done it all on your own. Would he praise you? Would he tease you? Would he tilt his head and smirk, then ask you if you had really missed him that much?

You smiled softly, looking up at him. The look on his face wasn’t one of pride. His eyebrows had furrowed and a frown creased deep into his face. Was he angry at you? No... you had seen his anger many times. This wasn’t it.

“MC....what have you done?”

He cradled you softly in his arms. Wait. When had he picked you up? You looked at your surroundings, the fear in the pit of your stomach ever growing. Where had all this blood come from? You had only pricked your finger! Lucifer’s hand touched your cheek, pulling your face back to him.

“Don’t look.”

You had no choice but to obey. You simply didn’t have the strength to move anymore.

“I’ve called for help, it’ll be just a moment, MC. Just keep your eyes on me.”

Lucifer’s voice was soft and soothing, and you felt your tired body relax into his hold.

“I did it... I brought you here... I did it...” you closed your eyes, a smile on your lips.

“MC, keep your eyes open. Look at me. MC! MC!”

Mammon

That day had started out much the same as always. Mammon, still sore from last nights punishment, groaned as he slumped into his desk at RAD. He rested his head in his arms against the desk, and glanced at the seat that used to belong to you. Obviously, you weren’t there, but it didn’t hurt to check....

“MC is still in the human world, Mammon.”

Mammon jumped and sat up straight in his seat, his cheeks red from being caught.

“I know that Belphie! I was just-just uh zonin’ out! MC’s old seat just happened to be in the same direction!” He stuttered out an excuse.

“Just call them, Mammon. I’m sure MC would be happy to hear your voice.” Oh great, now Beel’s getting involved too. He knew his brothers meant no harm, but all this talk about MC was getting him riled up!

“Fine! I will! I’ll call MC tonight! and you two AREN’T invited!” Mammon laid his head down once again, this time hiding his face, not wanting his blush to show a second time. Tonight he’d finally hear MC’s voice again. And he could blame Beel and Belphie for the call!

Come dinner time, Mammon had just about run out of patience. His head kept telling him to wait just a bit longer, but something in his heart was yelling for him to quit dragging his feet.

“I’m going to my room and NOBODY better interrupt me, ya hear?!” Mammon stumbled to his feet and started marching to his room, six pairs of eyes staring at him questioningly. He only made it a few steps when he felt it. A tug. He closed his eyes and swayed on his feet, dizzy from the force of it. This was a summoning, wasn’t it? He had felt it plenty of times from those damn witches, but something about this was different. He turned around to look his brothers again, a look of confusion on his face.

“I...think I’m bein’ summoned.”

Levi snorted and crossed his arms. “I’m sure you’re guilty of something. Better just get it over with.”

The rest of the brothers mumbled in agreement.

Except Lucifer.

Lucifer quickly pushed out his chair and hurried to Mammon. Something was wrong. A simple summoning wouldn’t have this effect on a demon of Mammon’s stature.

The pull came once again, stronger this time. Mammon winced and held his hand to his aching head. Lucifer’s hand came down to rest on his shoulder

“I don’t know how long I can resist this. Somethin’ isn’t right. Lucifer, what’s happening to me?” He looked to his brother for help, and found the rest of them had gathered around as well, a look of concern on all of their faces.

“Someone call for Diavolo and Barbatos. Mammon, hold on just a few more moments.” Lucifer commanded.

Mammon would have agreed, if not for the voice that rang out clearly in his head, calling his name.

“Mammon!”

Mammon’s eyes snapped open and stopped resisting the pull, hearing the shouts from his brothers disappear as he followed the call.

“Mammon! Mammon! Mammon Mammon Mammon! Please!” You couldn’t keep this up for much longer, you knew it. You had fallen to your knees moments after the initial call. You could feel every drop of blood flowing out of the pin prick on your finger, but you didn’t dare give up. You had come this far, and you wouldn’t give up now. Not until you had to.

But you didn’t have to. A flash of light blinded you momentarily, and when you could see again, there he was. Standing there was the Mammon. Relief flushed through your entire body, and you stopped pouring your magic into the spell. Utterly exhausted, your body came crashing forward, landing in front of his feet.

Mammon quickly slid to his knees on the ground, picking you up off the floor and resting your head in his lap.

“You....Are you okay, MC?” Mammon tried to keep his voice even and steady, not wanting to scare you, but his hands that held too tightly and his body that quivered gave him away.

“I am now.” You answered quietly, unsure if it was true. At least Mammon was here and holding you in his arms. Things would be okay as long as he was with you.

“You...You idiot! Stupid! What the heck were ya thinkin’!? Can’t you see how much blood you’ve lost? This isn’t how you’re supposed to be summoning us! I’m gonna kill that damn sorcerer!” Mammon felt his blood boil with each second that passed. How Could Solomon have allowed this?

You softly squeezed his hand, not having the energy to yell for his attention. Immediately, he stopped, looking at you questioningly.

“Solomon didn’t teach me this. He wouldn’t. But.... I just couldn’t wait any longer. I needed to see you.” You answered.

He frowned deeply, more troubled with this answer. You had done all this just to see him? He felt a lump in his throat form. “I would have come to you. You didn’t have to do this.” He pressed his forehead to yours, closing his eyes to stop any tears from escaping.

You cupped his cheek, returning the affection he so rarely showed. “S’okay. All that matters is you’re here now. I just...need....to rest....a little...” Your eyes fluttered closed, feeling at peace and calm in your love’s arms.

Panic. Once again, Mammon’s eyes snapped open. He placed his hand over yours, trying to gently coax you into opening your eyes once more.

“Not yet, you can’t yet, MC. We have to wait for help to come. Come on, wake up.” He knew his brothers would come. Someone would come. They wouldn’t let this happen to you. He wouldn’t let this happen to you. “MC!” When gentle touches didn’t work, he got rougher, shaking you and yelling, desperate to see your eyes open.

“Enough playin’ around MC! Wake up! WAKE UP, DAMMIT! Wake... Wake up...You have to..... Wake up....”

Leviathan

To say that Levi was missing his MC was like saying humans like air. Is it true? Yeah, but kind of an understatement. Humans needed air to live and breathe, and in his eyes, you were air. It’s no secret that Levi wasn’t exactly popular. One might even say it was well known that he was a dorky loner demon, if they were feeling particularly sassy. Being a loner has it’s advantages, like having more time for gaming and anime binging, but it sure is, well, a lonely once you’ve had someone to share your passions with. And once that someone is gone, their absence weighs heavy.

So yes, Levi was missing MC. So what? Everyone was missing MC. Why wouldn’t they? His MC was a ray of sunshine in a world of darkness. Ugh. That line sounder way cooler when the hero in his latest otome had said it. Of course his thoughts couldn’t sound that cool. But that’s not the point! Levi figured he had no right to complain about MC being gone, because he was just a gross, annoying, worthless otaku. He didn’t deserve to miss them. He was lucky he got to spend as much time with them as he did, really.

But nobody could blame him for thinking these thoughts, right? Thinking about how much he missed the way MC would cram themselves as close to him as possible to get a look at whatever mobile game he was playing was harmless. So was remembering all the nights they’d spent binging anime and then realizing the sun was up, smiling sheepishly at each other and promising not to stay up so late next time, even though they always did. Okay, so maybe thinking about the way they looked when they were fresh out of his shower, smelling of his soap and shampoo was less than innocent, but what was he supposed to do!? Leaning your damp head on his shoulder and curling up close to him like that! Doing things like that is bad for an otaku’s heart! You might give them hope or something...

Enough was enough! He didn’t have time to be obsessing over how much he missed MC. It was taking time away from his one and only true love. “Ruri-Chan, you’d never abandon me right? No, I know you wouldn’t. You’re not like that.” Levi began speaking to his latest figure. “Not to say MC IS like that! No, of course their not! They didn’t have a choice!” He stuttered out a quick fix to his hurtful words. He was glad they weren’t around to hear, but it still felt wrong to say. He was quiet for a minute, staring at his floor in shame. Slowly, he lifted his eyes back to the figure. “Do you think they miss me like I miss them?”

And then he felt it. It had been so long, but he knew this feeling.This was a summoning, wasn’t it?! Based on the intense tug he felt, it had to be a super powerful sorcerer or maybe a group of basic magic users? Honestly, he was flattered. Someone wanted to summon HIM? No, They must have made a mistake. Surely this summon was meant for one of his brothers.

Leviathan was so lost in his own self pity he missed the first two calls of his name. The third one, sounding so desperate and pleading, snapped him out of his funk in an instant. He knew that voice. Without hesitation he let the summon take him, and there he was. He was finally reunited with MC.

But it wasn’t supposed to be like this. When he finally saw them again, he was supposed to feel elated and whole again, not like a piece of his heart was ripped right out of his chest. But when he locked eyes with them, surrounded by blood and their eyes looking glassy, that’s exactly what he felt.

“MC! Oh no. Oh no.”

Levi. He was here. He had to be. You heard his voice and felt his presence, felt his arms circle around you and cradle you tightly against his chest. But why couldn’t you see him? And why did you feel so… empty?

“Levi? That’s you isn’t it? Why is it so dark?” Had the candles all gone out? No, even before you lit them, you remember it hadn’t been this dark. Something was wrong.

Levi inhaled shakily, holding back the sobs he desperately wanted to release. “MC, what are you talking about? I’m right here! Can’t you see me?”

Like a bolt of lighting, the realization hit you. It wasn’t dark. The candles hadn’t gone out. It was your eyes.

“No, Levi. I can’t. I can’t see you. I can’t see anything.” You shakily reach your hand up, frantically feeling around for your love’s face. Leviathan’s usual timid nature word have normally had him reeling away, but in this moment, he had no reservations as he helped guide your hand to his cheek. His lips trembled as he fought the urge to scream.

“MC…. Why would you do this? You’ve lost so much blood… and.. and your sight? I’m not worth this. I’m just a useless otaku! It isn’t fair!” His tears began to flow, the guilt of it all was ripping him apart.

You closed your eyes and smiled as you remembered the many faces of this man you had called to you. “It was worth it. I did it because I love you, Levi. I need you. After all, what good is a Henry without his lord?”

#obey me #shall we date? obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mc #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #reader insert #tw self harm #tw sewing needle prick #tw blood #this was way to long winded I overdid it

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chudleycanonficfest · 3 years

Text

Day 26, Post #1 by @cheesyficwriter

Title: The Greatest Chapter

Author: cheesyficwriter

Pairing: Harry/Ginny

Prompt: Moving in together

Rating: T

Trigger Warnings: None

Prompt: Moving in together

The Greatest Chapter

At age 10, I had the most embarrassing schoolgirl crush on Harry Potter. I'd see him and run in the opposite direction, painting the perfect image of me as a young girl who lacked the confidence needed to formulate words — any words — around someone I liked.

Before getting to know Harry for who he really was, I was so infatuated with the idea of the Boy-Who-Lived. I wanted so desperately to be going to Hogwarts with Ron before I was old enough, knowing that Harry Potter would be there too.

The way Harry took on a basilisk to save my life during my first year did nothing but solidify my growing feelings for him. My crush never really went away but instead transformed into a casual friendship based upon our shared experience in the Chamber of Secrets, a friendship that I was willing to accept at the time because I just wanted to be around him.

As we grew up, I started to relax more in his presence. We gained a mutual respect for one another, exchanging laughs in the Great Hall and sharing in-jokes during Christmases at the Burrow. Those little moments, in between all of the chaos and turmoil of what used to be, helped me learn a few things about Harry that I wouldn’t have discovered otherwise — not even on the front page of The Daily Prophet.

When I was younger, I admired Harry because I was under the impression that he possessed traits that I didn’t. I never imagined that I could be as brave, or courageous, or charismatic as he was to me. What surprised me the most about our developing friendship at Hogwarts was that there were far more similarities between us than differences. We shared the same wicked sense of humor — that I like to say I inherited from my plethora of brothers — yet could still hold my own during quick-witted battles, and I often found myself looking at Harry whenever something made me laugh, just to see if he was laughing, too. My stomach always spiraled when, more often than not, I found him looking back at me. We used our shared humor to our advantage, and I was thankful for that small respite in the midst of so much darkness.

We shared the same values, both of us realizing the importance of family, friends, and love above everything else. It’s what we fought for every day, even when it seemed like we were too young to really know what love was.

As our friendship continued, my romantic feelings for Harry were buried deep down in a place where I was once convinced they would stay. I decided to throw all of my energy into school, developing my skills as a witch, thus growing the confidence I needed along the way to put myself out there with other, more available boys.

For years, we were caught up in our own lives, and it shocked me more than anyone to have captured Harry’s attention when I least expected it. From the first moment he kissed me, I never hesitated. All of those feelings I had attempted to bury came rushing back to the surface, like revealing a galleon that I had stashed at the bottom of my trunk.

I will never forget those few stolen weeks we had together when I was 15 and he was 16. He described it as something out of someone else’s life, and at the time, I had thought that was all we would ever be. Time was fleeting, and there wasn’t enough of it.

Harry had no choice but to dedicate his life to fighting for the wizarding world, and I was always determined to be right there beside him, up until the point where I couldn’t. I was smart enough to understand why he didn’t ask me to come with him. It was his mission. His, Ron’s, and Hermione’s. I didn’t often miss the times the three of them carried on by themselves, engaging in secret conversation and disappearing without the faintest clue of their whereabouts until much later.

On that fateful day that Harry broke things off, I already knew what he was so desperately trying to convey to me. If I were to have accompanied him on the Horcrux hunt, it would’ve been me he was worried about instead of finding the pieces of Voldemort’s soul that were crucial to defeating him.

That notion — although tragic in a sense — gave me more pleasure than the feeling of scoring an impossible goal during a Quidditch match.

Regardless, Harry was never far from my mind those long months that he was gone. My childhood crush seemed silly at that point because I had gained so much more than a fleeting romance.

As time passed, and Harry and I found our way back to each other after Voldemort's defeat, it took us a minute to catch our bearings and resume our relationship that we had put on an indefinite pause.

It hadn’t always been easy dating him. In fact, dealing with the fame that Harry carried around with him from being a war hero had been a lot harder than I ever anticipated. But it was always unspoken that we managed, despite what any publishings had to say about us.

I came to love him, not for being Harry Potter, but for who he truly was. His heart. His courage.

As I stood reflecting on my relationship with Harry in the drawing room of 12 Grimmauld Place, I was overcome with emotion. Our relationship wasn’t perfect, but it was the one we were destined to have, and that made every hardship worth it.

The room housed a large window overlooking the street, a charming — albeit dusty — fireplace, and ornate fixtures. For a person who just moved in, I felt like the house itself could have been in worse shape. Harry did an exceptional job keeping the place organized, especially for someone who, up until just a few days ago, lived there by himself.

That’s not to say I hadn’t already spent plenty of nights at Grimmauld Place over the last couple of years. In fact, I probably spent more nights there than I did at the Burrow once I returned home from my final year at Hogwarts.

It was during those nights that I discovered just a fraction of the pain Harry went through. He’d always been intensely emotional, and so many nights I spent shaking him from his residual nightmares of the trauma he went through, despite the wizarding world being in a much better place. I comforted him the best I could in those moments, determined to make it clear to him that I’m never letting go — not this time.

I smiled to myself as I took a seat on the piano bench, observing the peeling paint from one of the large, cracked walls. We had a lot of work to do, but moving in together was a proper next step for us.

"Gin? Are you home?" Harry’s voice carried through the dusty walls.

Before I could respond, Harry was already standing in the open archway, head tilted to the side with curiosity etched across his face. “Were you just staring at a blank wall?”

I crossed my arms, determined not to let him know about my extensive reflection into our past. “So what if I was, Potter?”

He looked as if he wanted to question my retort further but instead joined me at the piano, bumping his shoulder with mine.

“It’s a lot of fun coming home to you,” he admitted, the rich, melodic sound of the piano filling the open space from his fingertips pressing against one of the keys.

“You know that’s practically how we were before, right? When was the last time we spent a night apart?”

Harry shrugged, and it was clear he never really thought about it. “Dunno, but it was one night too many, I reckon.”

I sighed, wanting to ask a question that had been weighing on my heart. “Do you find it odd that we’ve never really argued? I mean, even when you broke up with me-”

“Why must we go back to that?” Harry interrupted, a pained look crossing his face.

I gave him a playful pat on the arm. I wanted our past to be something positive we could look back on and didn’t fancy dwelling on the shit times.

“Shush. I’m just saying, even though it hurt a lot to not know where you were for almost a year, I always understood your decision. You had to go.”

Harry’s eyebrows knitted together, clearly still trying to work out the point of the conversation. “Where are you going with this?”

“I just-I can’t believe I’m saying this,” I rubbed my temple to ease my stressed-out mind. “I’m actually worried that we will never fight.”

“Oh, we’ll fight.”

I turned towards Harry, who was too busy fiddling with the piano keys to even look at me. He responded straight away, like he didn’t even have to think about it. “How can you be so certain?”

Harry snorted. “I’ve witnessed you get all hot-headed when you disagree with other people.” He sent me a dazzling grin, reaching out to trail his fingers through my stray ginger strands that hung loose from my ponytail. “You’ve got that fiery red hair. It’s only a matter of time.”

“Hey!”

“In fact,” Harry smirked with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “I think you’re the most problematic person I know, Ginevra.”

Harry yelped when I pinched his forearm. “You prat.”

He chuckled, wrapping an arm around my shoulders to pull me closer. “In all seriousness, though, we’re going to be fine.”

I stared at him in awe but leaned into him. “You are so sure of yourself.”

He grabbed my shoulders, pivoting our bodies so that we were facing each other on the bench. “You wanna know how sure I am?”

Before I could respond or even react, he kissed me full on the mouth. He growled as our kiss intensified, and all at once, our positions shifted as I felt a sharp pain in my back from my body making contact with the piano keys with a resounding trill. I was left dizzy and breathless, snogging Harry as a wave of happiness resonated through me.

When he pulled away, his fierce emerald eyes locked on mine set my mind ablaze. “Does that answer your question?”

I decided his question didn’t require a verbal response, so I simply attached my hand to the nape of his neck before dragging his face back to mine. We didn’t talk much for a while after that.

I knew, perhaps more than anyone else, how much Harry desired moving forward from the past. I’m ready, too, to start the greatest chapter of our lives.

#chudleycanonficfest2021 #HP fest #hp canon pairings #canon fest romantic #submission #hinny #harry x ginny

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zodiyack · 4 years

Text

Smile

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Female!Reader

Warnings: Cuteness?, fluff, swearing, no proofreading

Words: 2,191

Summary: A cold winter’s night gives Tommy inspiration to go for the woman he desires. After all, what gentleman would let a lady walk home in the teeth chattering cold?

Taglist: @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @captivatedbycillianmurphy, @stydia-4-ever, @simonsbluee, @marquelapage, @stuckysslag, @darling-i-read-it, @psychkunox, @peakyxtommy, @jenepleurepasbaby, @thewarriorprincessxo, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow, @fandom-puff

Masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist | Cillian Murphy Masterlist

The woman who worked with his family, sitting at the front of the betting shop despite being someone who should never have to see what horrors the Shelbys have. She was the one Tommy dreamt of the few times he’d actually been able to sleep. His heart thundered as he passed her, waving a hand with a kind and welcoming smile, a genuine one at that. His family could tease him all they’d like, but Y/n L/n had stolen Thomas’ heart and he was perfectly fine with that.

However, he wasn’t the best at telling her so. He could talk to her just fine but telling her he fancied her... Y/n was far too innocent. Sure, she wasn’t literally innocent but he couldn’t bear to bring her into the shit-show disguised as “family-business”. The smile she returned to him every time he passed her only reminded him of that.

“Mr. Shelby? You-” His head perked up, expression of deep thought washing away at the sound of her soft voice. Oh, her beautiful voice. It serenaded him without either of the two even realizing it.

“Again, please Y/n, call me Tommy.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he let out a small chuckle, “I promise. Now, what about me?”

“Um... Oh! Yes! You have a visitor. I assume it’s about some Peaky Business so I told them I’d get you.”

Tommy nodded. “Thank you, Y/n.” His eyes had been fixated on her long enough to notice more about her appearance than he had a The pink on the tip of her nose, the slightest hue of blue on her lips. “Y/n...come here please.”

“Alright...” She did as she was told. A small nervous feeling bounced around in her gut, alarm bells ringing. Tommy was hard to read, but the request scared her more. Ada was the one who got her the job, Tommy was the one who let her keep the job. Was he having second thoughts?

Before another worrying thought could make its way to her head, Tommy swung his coat over Y/n’s shoulders. A little sigh of relief, yet also a gasp of surprise, escaped Y/n’s lips as the coat began to envelope her in its warmth. Caught in the moment, her eyes flicked to Tommy’s, his to hers. They just stared. And yet, neither of them minded.

His face... It was like a Greek god, or an angel maybe? So imperfectly perfect.

That’s what he was.

She thought about his smile, not currently visible, but always on her mind. It looked so handsome, so charming, and, dare she say, pretty. His smile brought hers to her face. Even if it was hiding in the pits of the darkest, deepest, smallest hiding place on a bad day, his own called hers to the surface almost instantly.

The beautiful blue of Tommy’s orbs, like sapphires sparkling in the light that bounced off them or a mad ocean; the rage secretly a symphony as each wave crashed and washed away, a symphony only those who stopped to listen, actually listen, could hear. She had so many words and ways to describe the almost child-like look in his eyes, full of a hidden innocence ironically enough, but a knock at the door tore them away from her before they even reached her mouth.

“Mr. Shelby? If you and your...uh...friend are done here, I have some business to talk with you.” The man was impatient. Luckily, his scare drew an instant reaction from Y/n. She had hurriedly turned around to face the guest with a flushed expression across her face the moment the door swung open. With her attention elsewhere, she missed the wince the man elicited from Tommy when he called Y/n his “friend”.

“Yes. We’re done. Y/n, you may go back to your work now.” He excused her with the same lift of his lips he’d always given her, only this time, the corners of his mouth were a little higher, a little closer to his eyes. This was progress.

A thin sheet of snow, white as angel’s wings, cloaked Small Heath. The waters were slick with ice. The cold wrapped its arms round Birmingham, Mother Nature hoping to warm her children and herself regardless of her cold skin. It nipped at the tips of noses like she was booping her finger against them in attempt to draw a smile from her shivering children.

Tommy cursed to himself. It felt so much colder than it did at the start of the day- one person on his mind upon the realization. Y/n had left a little prior to Thomas, just like she did every other day. Her reddened nose, her trembling lips as her teeth subtly and silently chattered, her fragile form even more so with her arms wrapped around her and Tommy’s coat in attempt to gain warmth. The images never seemed to leave his brain, especially not when she returned his coat.

He began to walk home, still focused on Y/n. Pondering up a variety of situations, good and bad, he tried to reassure himself. Constant anxiety was not new for Tommy. He worried for his family, for his friends- for Y/n... Too much was on his mind but he couldn’t seem to shake any of it off.

Although he was looking straight ahead- looking where he was going, he wasn’t entirely paying attention. A grunt slipped from his throat as he walked into someone, knocking them over and causing him to stumble. Normally, he’d just tell them to watch it, but as he regained focus on what’s in front of him rather than what’s been bothering him, he paused.

She too was surprised, having literally been knocked off her feet by none other than Thomas fucking Shelby. Her head jerked upwards to see who had walked into her, a similar intensity as Tommy’s. But she softened as well, untensing when his face, those baby blue gems, came into her view. He looked so puzzled, so...guilty.

“Fuck!” He was quick to drop the ground and help her up, checking her for any form of injury. “Are you alright, Y/n?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Are you alright? You look frightened-”

“I wasn’t paying any attention to my surroundings, I must’ve walked right into you. You know I didn’t mean for that to happen, love? It was purely on accident. Is there any way I can make it up to you? Anything at all?”

“Tommy. It’s alright.” The way she said his name was comforting. Her voice was soothing as usual. Her hand came to his upper arm, a relaxed and friendly grip. She gave him a squeeze, letting him know she meant it, that she was serious. “But, before I answer your second question, please, answer mine.”

Thomas was ready to ignore her, lips already parting to ask her again, but the sincerity of her concerned demeanor crumbled the facade he’d put up. He released a heavy sigh, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “I’m just- ...worried.” It took a lot for him to admit some things, but the feeling of relief that surged through him after he told her...it felt like she took the burden from his shoulders.

“About what?”

He looked around for a minute and then suddenly stopped. Now that he thought about it, they weren’t that far from his place. He looked back to her. Her form was just as cold as it was this morning, the color of her lips had darkened, likely from longer time in colder weather.

“How about this. You come with me, to my place, we warm you up, get you a cup of tea, and then I’ll tell you.”

“W-what? No, Tom, you don’t have to-” There it was again. His name. She was like a siren, luring Thomas Michael Shelby, the helpless sailor, his name entwined with her voice- her melody. Her form did not change, as it was her he desired most.

“No, I do. I’m the reason you were on the ground, I’m the reason you’re covered in snow, but I’ll be damned if I become the reason you freeze to death out here.”

“I won’t-”

“You live quite some distance away,” his final attempt, a pleading sigh to mark it as so, and he was determined to make it a strong one, “...at least let me drive you home.”

She looked to be in serious contemplation of his offer, biting her lip and rocking back in forth to collect some warmth from movement before she returned her eyes to his. “...Fine.”

“I’d still like to get you warmed up though, so you can’t turn me down about that, yeah?”

The air escaping her parted lips could just barely be seen. Huddled by the fire, wrapped in Tommy’s sheets with a mug in her hands resting close to her face, the sinister chill was retreating from her body. Tommy felt his heart speed as he watched her. It felt...right. It felt right to have her be safe and warm, just as it felt right to have her there, with him.

Though a number of feelings were checked as “right”, there was a rather large one that didn’t. There was a feeling that wasn’t right, that hadn’t been satiated. His feelings for her poked at him, urging him to kiss her, hug her, ask her, to do something! Anything!

“You going to tell me what was on your mind, or was that just a trick to get me to accept your ride home, Mr. Shelby?” The grin that was present on her lips could be practically be heard as she asked the question.

“Not a trick, I promise.” His chuckle brought a chortle to Y/n’s mouth. He walked to the fire, sitting beside her. “I’ll tell you. But first...you have to promise me something.”

“Yes, anything.”

“Promise me that you won’t go spreading my business where it doesn’t need to be.” He took a deep inhale, exhaling it as he prepared to speak his next request involving her reaction. “And promise me this won’t affect our relationship.”

Her brows furrowed in confusion. “...I-... I promise, but, ...I don’t understand how it could make a change between us?”

“It just...” He lifted his hands, scanning his brain for the right words. His hands dropped, making a small sound as they hit his thighs, the sound hidden only slightly by his sigh. “It just can.”

“How so? I mean, surely it’s-”

“I was worried about you.”

“O-oh? Thank you, that’s very-” She didn’t understand. But how could he blame her with her lack of context?

“No. I was worried about you because I seem...” a pause to get it out. “I seem to have fallen in love with you.” He looked into the fire with an intensity. He looked at it as if looking at her would make him crumble on the spot. The moments passing by without any response from her made the fire so much more entertaining. Tommy Shelby couldn’t be scared by much, he’d already been through war, but this? It scared him.

A part of him wanted to look at her, see the reaction just in case it was just a lack of verbal response...but another part didn’t want to face the disappointment. Y/n was a nice woman and Tommy could never bring himself to hate her. Losing her would be hard, but seeing her at work would be harder. Tearing her from the job she cherished would be harder. He couldn’t do that to her.

Luckily, “Your eyes are so pretty...” he didn’t have to. “Your eyes, your smile- everything about you has the stars jealous of its beauty. Personally, I wondered if our lips would meet. Today, in your office. It took everything in me not to surge forward, taste your lips on mine.” She snickered lightly, “Excuse my bluntness.”

“I like your bluntness. I only wish I’d been gifted with it.” He joined in, turning to face her, finally. He took a moment to admire the way her features looked in the orangey light from the fire. His eyes, observing her face with great interest, traveled to her lips before flicking back up to hers.

“Is that so?... Well, Tommy, now’s a good time to be blunt.”

“Pardon?”

She’d seen it. Fixated, just like him, on his eyes, specifically. “If you want to kiss me, just say so.” She’d caught him, easily with how entranced they both were.

He thought to himself. What’s blunter than saying he wanted to kiss her?

It happened in one swift motion. One second she was giving him a smug quirk of her brow, the next, her lips her locked with his. They pulled away, slowly and hesitatingly. “That was...as blunt as I could be.”

A laugh erupted from her. The sound sweeter than the songbirds. Then, Tommy smiled. Even if he wouldn’t be her target, in a boat on a restless sea, he knew, without a single doubt, that he’d go to her willingly. In fact, he did. And upon reaching the siren, perched on a sturdy ledge-like-rock, he realized she meant no harm. Tommy smiled. The smile reached his eyes.

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parkers-gal · 3 years

Note

Part 2 of Harry thought she was cheating on with tom" uhm you should do it if you want or not.

Harry wants know the expalantion. Why did y/n and tom are soo soo close??

its okay if you dont want do it :))

hiii sorry it took so long ! :( that piece is called “what’s his.” here’s pt two !! <3

requests are temporarily closed

—

With two days gone, you feel it’s probably time for you to stop ignoring Tom. After your fight with Harry, you thought it best to not interact with any of the Hollands until things settled, but right now you’re in desperate need of some comfort, and Tom doesn’t deserve to lose a friend because you’re in a rough patch with his brother.

He’d called you an extraordinary amount of times, checking on you and asking questions and offering his help whenever it was needed. You hadn’t answered until today, and he’d replied within seconds.

You were going over to their flat. Tom promised Harry would be out with Sam and Harrison, so you wouldn’t have to deal with awkward encounters or situations. You’re grateful, at least, that your fight with Harry hasn’t splintered your friendship with Tom — at least, not as much as you thought it might.

The beep of your car brings you out of your head — you realize you’re at Tom’s house a lot faster than you thought. You’re on time, though, but you’re not as mentally prepared as you’d like to be. You’re a bit distressed, and noticeably so. Fighting with Harry wasn’t fun.

“Hey, Y/N/N.” Tom greets you as he opens the door, stepping aside to allow you inside. You smile nervously, awkwardly, and you manage to remove your shoes and settle on the couch. Tom has movies and ice cream pulled up, your favorite blanket splayed out on one end of the couch.

As you settle, he sits beside you, hands in his lap while he smiles gently.

“Do you… wanna watch a movie? Or… maybe talk about what happened?” He swallows thickly. “I’m here if you need to vent or- rant or whatever they say nowadays.”

You chuckle, almost dryly, but nod nonetheless at his offer. Ten minutes go by with you talking, and somehow you’ve shifted closer to him. Another ten minutes pass and you’re crying into his shoulder about the entire ordeal, hugging his side, leaning into him as another tear falls.

He takes his time with you, calming you down before talking quietly. He’s rationalizing the issue with you, telling you the things Harry said. He knows he shouldn’t, because this really isn’t his business, but he can’t help it. He wants things to work out between you and his brother.

The front door opens, though neither of you hear it through your talking. Harry comes through the hallway, and when he catches sight of you cuddled into his brother’s side, he scoffs, rolling his eyes.

Tom notices him first, and when you follow his eyeline, you quickly separate from Tom, standing as you attempt to go over to him.

“Harry- Harry it’s not what you think-!” You don’t get to say anything you want to, because as he runs up the stairs, his bedroom door slams loudly, leaving you a puzzled puddle at the bottom of the staircase.

When you turn slowly on your heel, you’re close to crying again, and when Tom makes a move to hug you, you step back.

You’re muttering words as you grab your bag and make for the door. “Tom, I’m sorry. This was a bad idea, I- I shouldn’t have come.”

You leave him in the doorway, quickly situating yourself in the driver’s seat of your old car. Tom is sighing to himself, hands rubbing his forehead while he slams the door with a “shit.”

When he turns around, Harry is on the staircase, making his way down. He’s furious, angrily making his way towards Tom. Only, he doesn’t stop. Instead, he walks right past his older brother and straight into the kitchen. Tom finds nothing holding him back as he runs after him.

“Harry- Harry please, wait.”

“No.” He harshly closes the fridge after getting a cup of yogurt out from the pack on the top shelf. “I don’t care for whatever you have to say.” “No, but I want you to know there’s nothing going on between us-”

“Does it look like I give a fuck?” He sets his spoon down on the counter, fingers gripping the edge of the marble in anger. “You’ve already stolen her from me, it doesn’t matter anymore.” As Harry leaves the kitchen, Tom’s anger bubbles into the air, and he can’t stop himself from yelling at his younger brother.

“I didn’t ‘steal’ anyone! It’s your fault that you were too insecure to talk to her instead of accusing her of cheating on you.” Harry turns around slowly, nostrils flaring, jaw clenching and eyes darkening. He drops the cup of strawberry yogurt, the spoon clinking on the hardwood. In a matter of seconds, Harry is lunging at his older brother, about to swing a fist, but luckily, Harrison is by his side in the nick of time. He’d arrived just on time, noticing Harry’s stance and recognizing the signs of when Harry is about to swing a throw.

“Stop, stop.” Harrison’s voice is a loud and stark contrast to the tense silence between the Holland boys.

“Fuck off.” Harry shoves Harrison hands off of his arms, storming out of the room, leaving a breathless Tom and a panting Harrison.

“What the fuck was that about?” Harrison gestures to the entire room, to the direction in which the boy had walked out. Tom doesn’t reply, too caught up in the events that were just portrayed in front of him. “Care to explain?” Harrison gets louder as more time passes, and Tom nods, gesturing for him to stop yelling.

“I just… Harry walked in on me and Y/N.”

“Oh god, Tom.” Harrison cuts his explanation short, and Tom is quick to clear up the image.

“Not like that. We were just- we were just talking. She started crying so I hugged her and then Harry found us like that.” “So Harry walked in on his brother hugging his girlfriend.” Harrison stated bluntly, clearly.

“Pretty much. But then he got angry so she left so I tried to clear things up but then he got angry and we yelled at each other and-” “And what did you say to him?” Harrison gives Tom a side eye, and Tom winces at himself.

“I… blamed him for everything.” “Jesus, Tom.”

“How was I supposed to know he was gonna throw a punch?!”

“You weren’t, but you should’ve known you were gonna piss him off even more!”

Tom scoffs, head tilting backwards while he looks at the ceiling in thought. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

“You need to stay out of their relationship.” Harrison doesn’t sugarcoat what he thinks needs to happen. There’s no happy ending for you and Harry if Tom doesn’t stay out of the waters until it clears up.

“But-”

“No, Tom.” Harrison’s shoulders sag slightly. “Look, I know she’s your friend too, but that’s Harry’s girlfriend. You’ve… I don’t know… caused tension? You’ve gotten in between them. They need to bond again.”

“No, yeah, I know. You’re right.” He sighs. “I just… I don’t know if this is all my fault? It’s not my fault Harry said those things to her.”

“Yeah,” Harrison sips a glass of water. “But you should give them space until they make up.” Tom hums, nodding as he crosses his thick arms. “You know, you could start by explaining why the hell you and Y/N are so close.” Tom eyes him while biting his bottom lip.

“She’s…. Taking online courses so she can get into screenwriting. I’m trying to get her an intern for an upcoming film I’m working on.” He confesses as if it’s the most taboo thing in the world. “She wanted to surprise Harry by saying she’s coming with us for filming. We just- we don’t know if it’s final yet, so we didn’t want to tell him anything.” Harrison rolls his eyes, almost unsurprised at the predicament. “Well, stop making work seem so unprofessional. Harry can handle time away from his girlfriend if it comes to that.”

“Right. I suppose I should talk to her.”

“And then get her to talk to him, yeah.”

“Kay,” Tom grabs his car keys and a jacket before waving goodbye to Harrison, the door clicking on his way out.

You’re not sure how Tom convinced you to go to Paddy’s rugby game, but you’re here nonetheless. You have a jersey on under your cardigan, jeans fitted nicely while you stand with your arms crossed. It’s cold and dark out, so the field lights are on and they’re brighter than light mode on your cell phone.

Tom said he’d meet you here, at the bottom of the bleachers. The game has already started, and while you’re mediocrely cheering with the rest of the crowd, you’re still hyper aware of the fact that you’re alone. When you feel a presence next to you, you realize Tom has taken a stance on your left side, Harry on your right.

With a thick swallow of your dignity and courage, you step closer to Harry. “Do you… wanna talk?”

He chews on his lower lip but nods almost confidently. You shiver as the two of you walk towards a popcorn stand. It’s quiet for a good few moments, beats passing with just the rustling of grass under your shoes.

“I’m… sorry about everything I said. I know you’d never cheat on me.” He’s first to break the silence, rough deep voice cutting the tension and breaking the ice. “I just- I get so insecure whenever you’re with Tom. I don’t feel like a good boyfriend when you’re always with him.”

You can tell he’s sucked in his breath, a sure sign that if he doesn’t compose himself, he’s going to start crying. You take the opportunity to reply.

“I know,” You breathe out. “I was… maybe a little too close to Tom. I just- I didn’t realize, y’know? It seemed like you were fine with it but the dynamic got weird and- I’m just… I’m sorry too. I should’ve tried to… help you with your insecurities instead of doing… what I did.”

He nods, watching his feet take each step. “I missed you.” He confesses it just as the two of you come to a stop in front of the popcorn stand. You lick your lips, breathing out a helpless chuckle.

“I really missed you, too.”

When he takes a step closer, you realize what he’s initiating, and you embrace him strongly, holding him tightly, squeezing him. He inhales your scent, sighing to himself and exhaling in relief to have you back in his arms. You smile against his shoulder, bringing him closer, if possible.

“‘M sorry.” He’s grumbling into you, voice rasping. You can tell he’s a bit emotional, so you squeeze him again, pulling apart to look at him.

“‘S okay.” You smile, bringing his face closer to yours. “We’re okay.” Your fingers are under his chin while he nods, and suddenly, your lips are embracing, kissing sensually just as they have so many times before. He can taste your coconut chapstick, and he smiles into the kiss, hands on your waist gently.

“We’re okay.”

#harry holland #harry holland x reader #harry holland fic #harry holland angst #harry holland fluff #harry holland imagine #harry holland blurb #harry holland fanfic #harry holland twoshot #harry holland oneshot #harry holland miniseries #tom holland x reader #tom holland angst #tom holland fic

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bunny-hoodlum · 3 years

Text

Asynchronous With You: Chapter 1

ship: naruhina

rating: teen (maybe mature later)

tags: Modern Day AU, Foster Siblings, Family, Angst, Unrequited Love, Poor Communication

summary: An awkward journey full of self-denial and missed moments between two foster siblings. Perhaps their love will find the right timing someday.

(The way overdue long-form version of the Foster Sib AU I wrote for @szajnie for Secret Santa 2020.)

music: Asynchronous With You by burokkurubeats & my playlist

He wasn't the first child.

Somehow he had expected to be.

A girl his age, age six, and her older cousin had already been living here for a year now.

They had family, they were just… deemed unfit.

Maybe they'll take them back, when they get their act together. He doesn't know. He only knows he doesn't have the luxury of hope that they do.

Nobody was coming back to get him.

And he had nowhere to go back to.

The foster lady with the ruby red eyes showed him his bedroom.

At first, Naruto thought Hinata and Neji were close, so much so that no one could ever be closer.

Then he thought it was their tactic to keep others out, self-preservation in blood.

Hinata was nice enough, but she never strayed far from Neji.

That was because he never let her.

She wasn't just fiercely loyal to him. She was scared of him.

He tried to get Neji in trouble. Kurenai-obachan needed to know. But Hinata stopped him. She told him not to split them apart. That she didn't mind Neji bossing her around. She would never be okay if she didn't know where her cousin was.

So he tried. But it was hard. He still picked fights with Neji.

That didn't make Hinata happier, either.

He still thinks it's Neji's fault when she finally breaks down, telling them both off before running to her room.

He runs after her, but she won't let him in.

He goes to his room and talks to her through his wall. He has to press himself flat against it, straining to hear any sound.

Could she hear him, too?

"I'll leave Neji alone, okay?" It's a bitter promise, because it makes him feel like he's surrendered when he did nothing wrong. But part of him also feels tired of this pattern day in and day out. He'd rather spend his time better.

The silence stretched passed the point of comfort, and he pictured tomorrow, a tomorrow where Hinata may hate him. Enough to shun him in his own home. And would he really do what he's always done to others to her? Would he really go that far for attention?

His unconscious concerns spilled out, running through his fingers before he could stuff the words back in and swallow them. "Hinata… can I bug you instead?" He flinches and freezes, and he waits.

It's faint, but he heard her.

"Sure," she said.

His shoulders lowered as he slouched down the wall, the tension leaking from his body and he smiled.

Their early years would be shaped by a secret language shared between the two of them from that moment on, where a pinch on the arm and a retaliatory swat was a polite exchange in the morning. Where a "missing" item from their bedrooms was an excuse to search the house together, and where a stolen item was an invitation to enter each other's bedrooms. Hinata really liked to show him her new collection of pressed flowers, and he really liked to show her his latest Gachapon figurine. Whenever that happened, it was usually one of those new things that went "missing" shortly after.

It wasn't that Kurenai-obasan didn't spoil him as much as them, he could have new things all the time, too. But she hadn't been planning on taking him, she hadn't been prepared for him. If he wanted more things, Hinata would have to have less.

And the time he could spend with her was more than enough for him.

____________________________

Halfway through their grade school years their secret games waned. Being in the same grade helped to keep them in touch throughout the day, but at lunch time she was Neji's, and after school she was Neji's. That's just how it was.

But they were maturing. Their experiences were expanding. They had so much to talk about.

But how could they? It had to be at bedtime. And because it had to be bedtime, they had to be quiet.

He got the idea to drill a hole into their bedroom wall so that way they could easily whisper and not get caught.

That was one of his first thrills: vandalism.

"I think you mean 'home improvement'," Hinata giggled.

He had to process that.

He never realized until then that he still hadn't considered this his home.

Thanks to Kurenai-obasan, he had food in his belly and a roof over his head. He had a bed, some video games, and a safe route to school.

Thanks to Neji, he had a model of masculinity. Not a role model, mind you, but a model nonetheless. Some things about Neji were cool, even admirable. And other things he would never do in his life. They were both abandoned, confused and alone, sure. But it was always annoying how Neji couldn't help but look back. Naruto always had to look forward.

Maybe the way they both did things was equally imperfect.

He smiled to himself, as this is where he had to thank Hinata, for she kept them both grounded and present. Because that's how she lives her life, like each day is a gift not to be squandered.

Who cares about being hurt yesterday? Who cares about what hasn't happened yet?

Right now, at this moment, he was home.

This was his home.

____________________________

Girls at school always cupped their ears when they were eavesdropping. They cup their mouths when they're telling secrets or bad-mouthing others.

Hinata cups her ear around the hole in their wall when he's telling her stories. And she cups her mouth when she's telling him hers.

Her ears are sensitive, so he tries to watch his volume. He forgets himself when he gets excitable.

Her breath tickles and teases a memory from his brain, one that fills him with both sadness and relief.

When he tries to sleep, he searches for the root of this feeling.

The next day on television, there's a mother murmuring her baby to sleep.

He adopts that image as his own forgotten memory.

And the following night, Hinata's soothing whispers confirm that he had a mother once, and she used to sing him to sleep.

____________________________

Hinata's a wimp.

He loves the girl, but at school she is a gosh damn trouble magnet.

He jumps in front of her bullies, fists blazing, and he loses.

A lot.

But he gets to pick fights again. He gets to be cool from time to time. And when he gets better, he becomes the best. He gets a reputation!

By the time they reach fifth grade, he doesn't even have to raise a fist.

A well-aimed death glare is enough.

When Neji's graduation forces the two cousins apart for the first time in their lives, the older Hyuuga undergoes a personality shift.

He expresses legitimate concern for Hinata.

Maybe it's been there all along.

They're both standing on the empty landing just outside of their elementary's gymnasium where the remainder of the proceedings were taking place. Neji's stare, heavy with expectations and ultimatum, bore down on his little shoulders.

"You're the only one I can ask."

"Yeah, don't worry. I got this!" Naruto flashed his patent overconfident grin, and this time not a hint of condescension passed across Neji's face.

His heart thumped wildly when he and Neji returned to the gymnasium, with Neji returning to his position amongst the other students in the center of the room. Family members lined up against the walls in foldable metal chairs, a spattering of pride and loss playing out across their faces; Their children were growing up.

When Naruto took his seat, he stole a glance at Hinata on the other side of Kurenai-obasan. Her gentle profile seemed to unlock something inside of him. Waves upon waves of warmth filled his body, pulling him in deeper into a languid pool of contentment.

He would be her protector from now on.

He would be her brother.

____________________________

He never noticed how their paths lead each other further and further apart.

Their daily routines had remained the same.

Aside from a few exciting developments.

Like Kurenai reconnecting with a childhood friend. The man was a Marine and a chainsmoker, but he seemed cool.

Or how Naruto happened to find a collection of discarded skin mags behind the pool storage room at school. They now safely occupied the space beneath his bed.

There was also the neighborhood shrimp squad of grade-schoolers who loved to call him 'Boss' whenever he came over to play.

Or that time he was hanging out with Sasuke, and unusually the stoic lad had insulted a group of delinquents before he did at the local arcade.

Sasuke may have taken out four guys by the time Naruto took out one, but he still got the win.

But way, way before all of that something had really surprised him: Hinata becoming Deputy Class Rep to their own Haruno Sakura.

She was volunteered for the position based on her equally outstanding grades. Or, at least that's what they had believed.

Over time, it became apparent that they had volunteered Hinata to be Sakura's foil. Hinata was considerate and much more approachable. If the students wanted something, they went straight to Hinata first.

But then her unchanged nature became more detectable.

Like he's said before, Hinata's a wimp.

She crumbles at the slightest disapproval.

She implodes when she's convinced she could do better. When she thinks she's failing.

So halfway through their first year, she started to get abused. Girls and boys alike tried to strongarm her into making their lives 'better'. Making her fetch their lunches and dumping cleaning duty on her every day, then throwing her words back at her when she tried to complain. They'd say, 'But it's what you signed up for', and 'Isn't this your job? Don't you care about your classmates?'.

Somehow Sakura never noticed. He tried to tell her, but she didn't take him seriously. He tried to tell the teachers, but they acted like he had no evidence.

Liars! They just didn't want to get involved! What good are teachers if they don't help their students?!

Some weeks later, the following exams were posted outside the classroom.

Sakura was number two, just below Ino. They were always competing for the top, always unevenly dethroning the other.

Hinata was number three. Always suspiciously number three. And he was dead last.

Hinata could rise to the top, but she never tries.

He always tries, but he can never seem to rise.

He realized then that he hasn't been doing enough as her brother.

Compared to her, he has no future, no potential. It wouldn't be a waste if he took on her burdens.

He can take abuse, because during those first six years at a state-run orphanage, abuse was all he knew.

He realized what he had to do. Resiliency was one of his best traits, after all.

The following day, he took Hinata's place as the class slave. He fetched their lunches, got them drinks whenever they asked. The only thing they never asked him to do was their homework. Because… yeah.

Nobody knew they lived together.

If they did, well, he might've been forced to copy Hinata's assignments all the same.

He never noticed how their paths lead them apart, how their daily routines boxed them into two different social spheres never to overlap.

He was still her brother. Her protector.

But by high school, he'd also become the embodiment of trouble itself.

And he couldn't let that stuff disrupt her life.

____________________________

Naruto’s sprawled belly-down on the sofa playing on his Vita handheld when Kurenai-obasan calls out to him as she’s emerging from the laundry room.

“Naruto, I’ve stared at this hamper for three weeks,” She drops the hamper at her feet with a weighty thump for emphasis. “Are you going to do it or not?”

“I just forgot.” He surreptitiously powers off his game and abandons his handheld on the sofa as he ambles off the couch.

He’s dramatic when he slouches his shoulders and drags his feet, head lolling backwards in anguish. He hauls the hamper back inside the laundry room. He doesn’t look when he opens the washing machine and dumps his clothes into the drum. But the pile is sticking up. He tries to smash it all down, but he can’t. It’s already full.

“Crap.” He scoops out his month-old laundry in four armfuls and disposes them at his feet. He reaches in to grab the damp garments sticking to the sides of the drum, then begins to throw them into the dryer. At least that’s empty.

He doesn’t notice the butter yellow hoodie with white polka dots on the kangaroo pocket. Or the frilly linen top that needs to be dried on the line. Or the no-show socks with rabbits on them.

Once the drum was cleared out, he hurled his fermented clothes into the washer and started up both machines.

He went back to his game for several hours. Kurenai had to remind him to dry his clothes as she delivered the dryer’s contents to Hinata’s room. This was because Hinata was at cram school.

As he moved his items to the dryer, he recalled how Neji had done cram school too before moving onto a prestigious high school deep in the city center.

Naruto never knew whether to be jealous or not. School work was utterly useless and he didn’t envy the workload of overachievers, but maybe that was only because he couldn’t handle it. Maybe if he were smarter, he’d appreciate it better. Or maybe he’d figure out more ingenious ways to skip it all.

He played his game in the laundry room, waiting for the final ding to go off. He used the same dirty hamper to gather up his clean clothes and dragged it inside his room, where he promptly dumped it all out on his bed. Fresh laundry was intoxicating and he didn’t fight the urge to belly flop into the softener-drenched warmth.

He deeply inhaled as he sank into the heat. His cheek felt particularly nice against this satin material.

His left eye opened a peek. Vanilla and lavender stripes met his eye, with a rose lace and ribbon trim along the waistband.

He shot upright, his face no longer hot from the laundry, but hot with horrified embarrassment. He stared at the garment like it might come to life, jump on him and eat his face. It hadn’t so far.

‘It should be fine to pick them up, right?’ He thought with his frozen hand stretched out.

Why was he acting weird about this? They used to mix their laundry up all the time when they were younger. It’s actually how Hinata acquired a love of hoodies in the first place, because she loved to wear the beige one Obasan got him. She can pull off softer colors, but he can’t, so it was easily hers from that moment on.

He plucked up her panties by their corners and held it away, like it were an envelope full of Ricin, and he gazed at it mindlessly. Somehow they were exactly what he expected Hinata to wear, they were girly and cute.

Pale skin flashed before his eyes, a taboo image of Hinata in these panties, lifting her pleated uniform skirt up had startled him and he dropped the undergarments with a yelp.

Did he really just imagine her that way?

Naruto tried to smack the stupid from his mind until his cheeks burned with physical pain, then with everything he could muster, he snatched up the pair and ran for her bedroom, adding it unceremoniously to her hamper of clean clothes.

He pretended to be asleep by the time she got home.

He ignored the sweet voice that slid through the hole in the wall until she gave up and stopped calling him.

There was simply no way he could hold a conversation with her after that experience.

And to think he had to rely on his skin mags to purge him of his sin.

____________________________

Weightlifting was doing wonders for him.

For starters, it was taking his mind off of his libido.

For another, his physique was changing. He was starting to sprout up, too. Hinata’s former bullies were starting to learn some new feelings, like reluctance and fear. They eventually moved onto the freshman to enslave, leaving him alone to finally live his final year of middle school the way he always wanted.

The more he did weights, the more girls started to look his way, not just at Sasuke-teme.

Life was looking good!

Is what he thought when he was hanging out on the roof with Sasuke and two Ojou-gyaru types. One girl was straddling Sasuke while Naruto spooned the other girl from behind.

A dire thought hit him when he realized only six months remained until graduation. A choice he had been overlooking was rapping its knuckles against his temple, and he could hardly shoo it away.

“Hey.” Naruto turned his head towards Sasuke.

“Hn?”

“Where are you going for High School?”

Sasuke turned his head up towards the sky. He was pensively silent. Then he shrugged. “I’m going to stay here.”

“So you’re going to Konoha Normal High?”

“Just like everyone else.” Sasuke said.

‘Everyone else’ didn’t include Hinata, and he was supposed to stick close to her.

How suspicious would it be if he chose to follow her to her high school?

What if he couldn’t? What if she was following the same path as Neji?

Neji would be there until her senior year. Was his responsibility to the both of them over already?

Naruto would later get a text from Obasan that she would be spending the night with Asuma.

K-Obasan: There’s curry udon in the fridge.

He narrowed his eyes at the text.

Just because you add noodles to leftover curry doesn’t make it a Naruto-approved dinner!

“Udon’s not even the same thing!”

His steps slowed in the school corridor. It was enough for his rooftop date to catch up with him.

“Your face looks weird when you’re glum.” She giggled as she poked his cheeks.

“Yeah, well, I just realized I’m about to go home and no one’s going to be waiting for me.”

“Oh?” She circled her arms around his own and leaned in close. “Good for us, huh?”

His eyes widened with realization. A goofy grin stretched across his face, the corners curling lasciviously.

‘Yeah,’ he thought, ‘I’m owed this.’

____________________________

Author Note: I'm forgoing the one-shot because I still don't have that kind of discipline. ;D I'll definitely try to finish this short story to the end. I had received some good title suggestions for this story, but I ended up going with another song name because I can't seem to do anything else. ¯\_༼ ಥ ‿ ಥ ༽_/¯

I'm still going to try to adhere to the canon of the original fic to the best of my ability. I would totally declare this new canon, honestly, but then it'd be a Secret Dating fic with smut and it would never line up with what I already wrote. 😓

Anyways, I hope you liked this so far!

#naruhina #naruhina fanfiction #naruto x hinata #asynchronous with you fanfiction #foster sibling au #chapter one #chapter 1 #ch 1

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thegreatestofheck · 4 years

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Heck’s Masterlist

OBX Masterlist

Since some of my fics are getting long, here’s a masterlist of everything I’ve made so far in relation to Outer Banks! It will continually be updated as more fics, blurbs, and requests are added!

Also, my requests are open! I don’t generally do smut, but I’m open to mostly anything else!

JJ Maybank

Requests:

Jump - You are John B’s sister and you’ve been following him around your whole life. After deciding to make your own path, you find yourself caught up with a boy who is no good and JJ is the only one who can get you out of it.

Wedding Dress - JJ makes a promise to himself that he’s now not sure he can keep.

Run - You’re John B’s sister and after sending him off on the Phantom, it’s up to you to cover for him. But Ward Cameron is still your legal guardian and he comes to collect his property.

Ransom - John B’s sister is taken by the square groupers. In exchange for her life, they ask for the compass and a heavy ransom price. It’s a race of time as the Pogues, with the help of Sheriff Peterkin, journey into the marsh to save her life before the clock runs out.

Not So Unrequited - in the middle of an argument with your best friend, he says something to you that you had never wanted to hear.

i love you - your relationship with JJ had always been rocky, built on a mutual desire for affection. that doesn’t mean he would never break your heart.

fill the void - she always felt alone, so when he needed her most, she couldn’t resist.

promises, promises - You and JJ have an unspoken thing, passed only though stolen glances and half serious flirting. But the day after he takes the fall for Pope, you find yourself standing at a crossroads; do you step in to protect him from his dad, or do you stay out of it?

Series:

Ocean and Alcohol - (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, Epilogue, Rafe’s POV) You’re a kook, but your life is less than ideal. After a fight with some of the other kooks, you let slip a little about your home life to one JJ Maybank, who is more than intrigued. (reader insert with a name, tw: abuse, canon content)

Tempest and Gin - (1, 2) The gold is gone, but Elma’s problems are just beginning. With her dad in police custody and her mom once again AWOL and refusing to pay for legal council, Elma and Ms. Lana struggle to get through the trial with a court appointed lawyer. At the end of her rope, Elma finds herself juggling friends, family, rivals, and enemies as she struggles to keep her wits about her and do the one thing she’s always done; protect Kid.

Girl With No Heartbeat - (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8) After a near death experience, JJ is saved by a girl in the water. When he and the Pogues find her washed ashore the next day, they are more than surprised to discover that she isn’t your everyday girl. (mermaid/siren au, canon divergence)

Imagines:

Sweet as Honey, Hard as Steel - JJ’s girlfriend is the complete opposite of everything one would expect. A straight A student with big life goals, Elena has never been the drinking, smoking, fighting type. And JJ wouldn’t have it any other way.

Coward - Your mom just passed and your absentee father has come to collect you. But that means leaving the life you knew and loved, including your best friend (and a little more), JJ Maybank. But he isn’t ready to hear what you have to say on your last night together.

Rafe Cameron

Series:

Fire and Storm - Rafe Cameron had always wanted her. He wanted to be hers and he wanted her to be his. But she wasn’t and he was slowly beginning to realize that he never would be. (this is Rafe’s POV for a bit of another series, Ocean and Alcohol)

Requests:

Better - Secretly dating Rafe as JJ Maybank’s sister isn’t the easiest thing, especially when your brother finally learns the truth.

Imagines:

Meant to Be Yours - Rafe Cameron, your boyfriend, was more broken than you realized. He wants more from you than you can give. (based on the song “Meant to Be Yours” from Heathers the Musical)

John B

Imagines:

Girl Crush - You spent years yearning after John B, your best friend. You just didn’t realize it until he fell in love with the most beautiful girl on the island...and it wasn’t you. After that, only Sarah Cameron was on your mind. (based on the song “Girl Crush”)

Tethered - (routledge!reader, John B’s little sister) Surfing the surge was a Pogue rite of passage. You had been waiting for the next big storm to show your older brother that you were ready to be one of them. But the storm was stronger than you or your brother could have imagined.

Just Come Home - (routledge!reader, John B’s little sister) You come home one day to find your brother bearing harsh news.

Series:

By Dawn - (1, 2, 3) John B meets a mysterious girl at his court ordered group therapy. After spending weeks trying to get to know her, he slowly realizes that she’s a tough nut to crack. But then one day, she leaves him a cryptic message...the night before she goes missing. With the disappearance of his father still so raw in his mind, John B refuses to lose anyone else. And he will stop at nothing until he finds her.

Sarah Cameron

Imagines:

Kie Carrera

Imagines:

For Forever - When you’re parents find out that you’ve been secretly dating your best friend, Kie, they go off on you. Afterward, she comforts you, reminding you that blood doesn’t mean family. (tw: homophobia, found family to the max)

she - As a Pogue, having a crush on Kie Carrera was almost a prerequisite. You knew that all the boys were crushing on her, at least a little bit, but accepting your own feelings for her is a different matter. (reader has a crush on Kie but isn’t really ready to admit her feelings)

Requests:

Nothing More - You’re secretly dating one of the Pogues and your brother is starting to become suspicious. The only problem; he’s fixated on the wrong friend.

Pope Heyward

Imagines:

Nothing to Prove - Pope helps you with some relationship problems. Later, while hanging out with your boyfriend, you realize that running from your fears got you nowhere and the only place you wanted to be was with Pope. (very soft)

Delivery Boy - With an absent mother and a distant father, you’ve always felt alone living in your empty house. But a certain delivery boy might be the one thing that makes running an estate worth it.

Seires:

Bare Bones - (Preview, Theory 1, Theory 2, Theory 3) Pippa Cantu has always been a little…strange. With a knack for knowing everything there is to know about every conspiracy, every mystery, and every weird happening, she doesn’t have much time (or desire) for friends. But when her chemistry lab partner asks her to join him and his friends on a hunt for the Royal Merchant, she just can’t say no.

Kelce

Series:

Simple Melancholy - (2) Jemma “Little J” Maybank finds herself a little over her head when she accidentally falls for a boy from Figure Eight. Between her overly protective brother and Kelce’s incredibly rude friends, neither of them are sure how they’re going to make it, but they’re determined to.

General (Everybody)

Imagines:

Do Not Stand - One of the Pogues passes away and leaves a message for her friends. Each of them take it in a different way.

Series:

Little Village - (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, Finale) As the oldest of the Pogues and John B’s big sister, June always acted as their mother. She helped with assignments and studying, helped pay bills when it was needed, made dinner, reminded them about hygiene. But then she got pregnant and her boyfriend left and suddenly she found herself unable to do all those things she was once able to. When they say it takes a village, she wasn’t entirely sure they meant a bunch of teenagers. (post-canon, I haven’t decided who the love interest will be or if there will be one at all, so that’s why its here)

Requests:

Homeward Bound - After spending years abroad at a boarding school, Kie’s sister returns to the Outer Banks. The Pogues quickly realize that, despite her cold exterior, there is a free spirit inside her just longing to break free.

A Bunch of Love Stories Masterlist - A series of fics based on Taylor Swift’s album “Fearless”.

Outerbanks Playlist - This is just a list of songs that remind of the Pogues and other characters in the show. A few of the songs are connected to some of my fics as well!

ATLA Masterlist

Zuko

The Sun, The Moon, and the Stars - She is a non-bender from the Southern Water Tribe who somehow found herself smack in the middle of Fire Nation central, where a young prince is fighting an internal battle she hopes to help him win.

Harry Potter Masterlist

Fred Weasley

warm - you and your husband survive the second wizarding war, but so do some of Voldemort’s old followers, and they are hell bent on revenge.

Severus Snape

The Other Her - Severus Snape had two friends while he was at school. One, every body knew as Lily Evans. The other was you, an unknown student who wanted nothing more than to be noticed by your friend. You couldn’t help but compare yourself to the Gryffindor heartthrob every time he mentioned her name.

Only One - You return to Hogwarts years later to watch your son’s Quidditch match, only to find yourself a little bit in over your head.

Criminal Minds Masterlist

Derek Morgan

breathe again - he saved her life and now she has to deal with the aftermath. he’s there to help her every step of the way.

Aaron Hotchner

dark of the night - an agent gets taken in the middle of an investigation. in a race against time, the team at the bau must find her by diving into her deepest secrets. when a video tape arrives with horrible images of the state of their friends, aaron hotchner realizes just how terrified he is of losing her.

The Musketeers (BBC) Masterlist

Porthos

enough for you - the wife of a musketeer reflects on her relationship with her husband while Porthos watches from the sidelines.

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fific7 · 3 years

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Dangerous and Divine - Part 3

Billy Russo x Reader

Summary: Billy Russo is an itch you don’t want to scratch. But he’s all over you like a rash.

A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s mainly lemon zest 🍋 The GIF is from Exposed, unreleased pilot show in case you’re wondering 😌... Billy vibes.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content including oral sex, between consenting adults. Some drinking & swearing.

(My GIF)

“Nothing to see here,” you muttered and scooted across the café as quickly as you could, heading for the sanctuary of your office.

Closing the door firmly behind you and heading straight to your fancy CEO swivel chair, you sat down and shakily placed your hands flat on the desk. You took some deep breaths. That stupid big idiot and his BDE! How dare he kiss you like that in front of everyone.

And even worse, leaving you all hot and flustered like some kid who’s never been kissed before! Let’s be honest, that’s what was really getting to you... he hadn’t actually bent you over the counter and fucked you, but by your reaction he might as well have.

How ridiculous, you told yourself sternly, get a grip! You put your forehead on the desk’s cool surface. They’d all been staring at you, and you could feel your face heating up again at the thought of them watching Billy kiss you really quite passionately. And you melting like a complete fool in the process.

After a couple of hours hiding out in your office, you knew you’d have to face the music sooner or later and made your way back down to the café. The regulars, you saw, had gone by now so that was something but by the mischievous looks on your co-workers’ faces, you knew you were in for some serious teasing.

You made your way over to one of the two monster Gaggia coffee machines in the café and started making yourself a cappuccino. “Anyone want one?” you asked over your shoulder. Jake said he’d have one too, but the other two passed. You could just feel their curiosity crackling through the air like electricity. They were of course fully aware of the Ex and that whole daytime soap plot, but were just about losing their shit as they didn’t know anything about this hot dude, who’d walked in to the café and kissed you like he knew you extremely well.

You handed Jake his coffee and helped yourself to a danish cinnamon pastry - yeah, eating the profits again - munching into it and then pointing at your staff members with it. “Okay, guys. Here it is. In its entirety. I went to little cousin’s cocktail party last night as you know, and met the guy who was in here earlier. We left the party, went for a couple of drinks elsewhere, he drove me home, I got out of his car and he drove away. Like, immediately I got out.”

You really didn’t feel the need to mention the kiss he’d stolen before you got out of his car.

Gabrielle’s mouth fell open, “You met him last night???” The implication being that A) how was that possible and B) where did that kiss come from if you hadn’t slept with him? You sighed, taking another bite of pastry. “Yes! And as I’ve just told you,” you looked around to make sure there weren’t any customers in earshot, “he did not stay the night, okay? He didn’t even get out of his car.”

“It’s just that it looked a bit ...” Steve trailed off nervously. “Well...umm... friendly... for someone you’ve only just met,” finished Jake. You nodded. “I’m aware of that. What you saw there was the Billy Russo Show, done purely to embarrass me. He’s a cocky big shit. And trying to get me to go out with him.” “Are you going to?” asked Gabrielle. “Oh, hell yes! Wouldn’t you?” Jake almost got whiplash, he nodded so emphatically, “Yes. Yes, I would.” You all had a good laugh at that.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

There were only 2 days to go until Friday, and you found yourself panicking. What to wear, what to wear? OK, after mentally reviewing your wardrobe you decided that a shopping trip was in order.

Hanging up your new purchase in the wardrobe, you felt pleased with your choice. Nothing too flashy - you weren’t sure of the venue, so went with smart/casual - a sleek navy number, wraparound style, mid-thigh length and showing only a hint of cleavage. Less is more right?

Teamed with a pair of metallic navy heels, it would be fine. You hoped. What if he was taking you somewhere really low-key? Oh well, you shrugged, if you ended up looking a bit like Cinders at the ball in some local pizzeria, so be it.

Jake and the others were still buzzing about your upcoming date, in fact you’d eventually asked them if they wanted to come along too. They’d at least had the decency to look guilty, but only a little. You were sure that if they found out where you two were headed, they’d follow you. You decided you’d better check for shadowy figures tailing you on Friday night.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

8pm on the dot, the buzzer sounded in your apartment, Billy’s voice announcing that he was downstairs. You were not quite ready, still had a couple of tweaks to make so buzzed him up. He strolled in as you opened the door, leaning in for a kiss to which you turned your head, so it landed on your cheek. “Lipstick!” you trilled, moving back towards the bathroom. “I won’t be long, have a seat. You’re looking good, Russo, by the way.” “Thanks,” you heard his voice from the other room, “and you’re looking absolutely gorgeous, sweetheart.”

You’d felt happier when you saw that he was also smart/casual.... what looked like a cashmere burgundy sweater over black jeans, with a leather jacket. He looked edible.

When you emerged back into the living room five minutes later - a veritable vision in navy, you mockingly smirked to yourself - Billy Russo was nowhere in sight. You stopped in your tracks, and then heard a drawer opening in your bedroom. You walked through to it, just in time to see Billy picking up a pair of your lacy silk panties out of your underwear drawer.

“Russo!” you yelled, “put those back, you perv!” He slid the smooth fabric between his long fingers, grinning devilishly at you. “Mmmmm, are you wearin’ something similar right now?” Before you could stop yourself, you bit back, “Who says I’m wearing any at all?” His eyes widened, a big grin appearing on his face. “Oh, really? Wanna prove it?” “No!” you replied, knowing your face was scarlet, “just forget I said that. I’m joking with you.” He shook his head, “Yeah, like I’m goin’ to get that image out of my head anytime soon.”

“Let’s go, Billy,” you said, walking to the front door and pulling on your own leather jacket. “Hey, we’re matching,” he laughed, pointing between your jacket and his, “ain’t that sweet!” “It’s creepy, actually. Matching clothes? Vomit-inducing.” He laughed, “You’re funny.” “No, I’m just not some soppy sappy woman who’s going to fall at your feet, Russo.” He took your hand as you closed and locked your front door, and the two of you headed for the stairs.

“Yeah, I’d kinda got that vibe already,” he grinned at you, “but it doesn’t matter, I know I’m gonna get you in the end.” “Just keep on telling yourself that,” you snarked back.

Looking at the back of his head as he walked down the stairs in front of you, you really wanted to run your fingers through that hair but managed to keep your hands to yourself.

Fastening your seat belt, back in the gleaming Wraith, you watched Billy’s fingers as he fastened his and then placed his hands on the steering wheel. You mentally shook yourself, you were beginning to fantasise about different parts of his body and you’d better snap out of it, you told yourself.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

He took you to a really nice Italian restaurant, not too posh, just nice and relaxed with friendly staff and really good food. The conversation from the night in the bar was picked up where it left off, each of you adding more and varied information. You learned that Frank had sadly lost his wife and kids when they innocently got caught up in a savage gang war gun battle. Billy told you that his friend had gone off the rails for a while, but had recently met a lovely lady called Karen and they’d started dating. He was really pleased for him, as he’d been so worried about him for a while. You thought you’d quite like to meet Frank sometime.

You told him something more of your life, thankfully not involving assault and cheating ex-boyfriends this time. He’d been fascinated and truly appreciative of the struggle you’d had to get your business off the ground, saying that he’d been lucky in having a major investor lined up before he’d even left the Marines.

You saw a dark look flit over his face for a moment, but then it cleared and he went on to ask you more questions about your business. You’d both chatted easily together until it was almost midnight, and you’d become “that couple” who were the last ones in the restaurant. You realised that, when he dropped the ‘Billy Big Dick’ nonsense, you really enjoyed his company and felt that you two had clicked even more this evening.

He drove away from the restaurant, and it took you a few minutes to notice that he wasn’t driving the route to your apartment. “Billy,” you sighed, “are we heading to your place by any chance?” That damn smirk was back on his face. “Yeah,” he said, “I’ve seen yours, so now you can see mine.” ”Oh, ha bloody ha. I’m not sleeping with you, you know.” A grin appeared on his lips as you glanced across at his profile, illuminated by each passing streetlight. “Just keep on tellin’ yourself that, sweetheart,” he replied mockingly. You laughed out loud, “You cheeky big bastard.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

His apartment was everything you would’ve expected - open plan, with modern, sleek furnishings and decor in dark masculine colours. You settled yourself onto the large sofa, and he headed to the kitchen area; a moment later, you heard wine being poured then his tall figure reappeared, holding the two wine glasses. He handed one to you, and you took a sip - it was very good wine. “So, Billy... I’m guessing your li’l batchelor pad here sees quite a lot of action, and not the type you saw in the Marines, huh?”

That smirk. He sat down next to you, hand going to rest on your shoulder and playing with a strand of your hair. His expression became serious, “No. I don’t bring women back here.”

You scoffed, “Oh come on, Billy... you’re...” then you stopped, looking away from him. “I’m what?” You shook your head. “C’mon, what were you going to say?” “Never mind. Well, if you don’t bring them here, let me guess... you go to their place and disappear before the morning light?” He shifted uncomfortably on the sofa, breaking eye contact with you. “Okay... that, I can’t deny. How did you guess? And what were you going to say before?”

Oh to hell with it, you thought.

“I was going to say... you’re hot, Billy. So obviously - unless you’ve got a problem down there and need some little blue pills...” his eyebrows rose, his mouth dropping open slightly before he started grinning, “...you won’t be a saint and you’re more than likely a player.”

He leaned in towards you, eyes staring deep into yours, “Firstly, I have no problems with my equipment in any way shape or form,” ....smirk... “it’s in perfect workin’ order. And I’d be more than happy to prove that to you.” His lips met yours in a kiss, quickly growing heated. He pulled away, making eye contact again, “And you’re right, I’m no saint. A player? Yeah, maybe. But I can be a saint for you, if you want me to be.”

“But that wouldn’t be the real Billy Russo, would it?” His eyes were still on you. You carried on, “Look, I’ll level with you. I like you - when you’re not wearing your BDE persona. It’s a total clichè, but I really don’t intend to be just another notch on your no-doubt designer bedframe.”

He smiled at you, “I get it, I really do.” He trailed a finger along your cheekbone, “I wouldn’t be tryin’ to be someone I’m not. I just meant that I like you too, and I feel comfortable dropping the persona with you.” You smiled back. “OK, but Billy?” “Yeah?” “I’m still not sleeping with you.”

Laughing, “Oh, yeah?” pulling you against his chest, a hand going to your cheek as he kissed you long and hard. Breaking away, hand on his chest, you whispered, “Yeah...”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy was poised above you, looking down at you as if you were something he wanted to devour. Your clothes had joined his on the bedroom floor a little while ago; you were both lying on his very large bed, and yes it was designer-made - you’d asked him.

He gently pushed aside a strand of your hair, before kissing your lips. His mouth then made its way slowly but surely down to your neck and collarbone, and you felt little nips on your skin before his tongue licked your skin slowly. He moved slightly lower and sucked your nipples while his hands were busy massaging your breasts. Your hands moved to his broad shoulders, pulling him down further so you could feel more of his skin against yours.

You heard a chuckle, “So yeah, I guess you really aren’t gonna sleep with me after all, huh?” You shifted out slightly from under his body, “Shut up Billy, and put this to good use,” letting your fingers trail down to his hard length. You slid your fingers around it and gave his tip a firm squeeze. His breath hissed between his lips, and those big hands pulled you back underneath him. “Don’t worry, I was gonna.” You smirked, “I confess I was impressed when I saw what you were packing,” another squeeze, another hiss, his mouth on your neck, “but actions speak louder than words.”

He laughed, “Be careful what you wish for, sweetheart.” Deciding to head for the mother lode, you gave him one last squeeze, firmer than before, sniggering as his hips shot forward. “Same to you,” you said, before sliding your hands into his silky hair at last. Running your fingers right back through it, you sighed out loud and grabbed a handful with each of yours, and tugged. “I see you like my hair,” he smirked.

You leant forward and kissed him, hard. He groaned, kissing you back even harder. Then your hands ran over the muscles of his chest, down the trail of hairs on his lower stomach, before grabbing his cock and wrapping your fingers round it. He growled, “And what ya gonna do with that, sweetheart?” You began stroking him firmly, “This.... until you decide to get off your ass and do something.”

He laughed out loud, and suddenly his hand was between your legs, his thumb on your clit, rubbing hard. His lips at your ear, whispering, “Something like this?” and you felt a long finger plunging into you, swiftly joined by a second one. He began sliding them in and out, curling them, and it had an instant effect on you, your breath hitching. “Billy,” you sighed, your hand stilling momentarily on his length. You heard his low chuckle, and he increased his pace. Okay smartass, you thought, and gave his tip a very firm squeeze. “Aahhh!” you heard, and gave him another one for good measure. “You minx,” he laughed, then picked up pace with his fingers again. Then they were gone from you, and you saw him moving his head downwards, hands moving to your hips, his tongue replacing his fingers. He was lapping at you, his thumb back on your clit, and now you really were in trouble.

You grabbed his shoulders, digging your nails in, beginning to writhe on the bed, and then his fingers were back, sliding in next to his tongue. The combination of thumb, tongue and fingers was like an incendiary bomb going off in your core, and you could feel your climax building by the second. His pace increased and that was it, the explosion happened and you now grabbed his head like a vice, keeping him where he was as the aftershocks of your orgasm washed over you in waves. Very pleasurable waves. Finally, you released his head and you saw his dark eyes meet yours, a satisfied glint in them. “That was only number one, angel,” he grinned, “fasten your seat belt.” “Cocky bastard. And I’m an angel now, am I?” He moved up and back over you, hands sliding up your body.

“For sure,” kissing your neck, nipping the skin lightly with his teeth. “And I’m so lucky, havin’ one in my bed.” He sat up, opening a drawer in his bedside table, scrabbling around until he produced a condom, unwrapping it and holding your gaze as he rolled it on.

His hands moved to your breasts, palming them then circling his thumbs over your nipples as they peaked once again. You grabbed that hair of his again, little gasps making their way between your lips. Your feet were flat on the mattress, knees either side of his thighs and you felt his hand moving down, then the head of his cock was between your legs, edging its way in. Billy thrust right inside you, and there were loud groans from you both as he sunk in. “Mmmm...” he kissed you, tongue diving into your mouth, then he pulled away, gazing at you, “you don’t know just how good you feel around me.” You shifted a bit, rolling your hips to his, “About as good as you feel inside me.”

A low growl, then he was moving on you, fast right from the get-go, his thrusts forcing a moan from you on each stroke. Your legs moved - seemingly of their own accord - around his hips, and this new angle obviously pleased both of you, as the noises the two of you made got even louder. You felt him deep inside you, and every time you squeezed and held him there, he actually whimpered.

“Good puppy!” you managed to gasp out, hearing an answering snort of laughter from him. “I am not...” he gasped back at you between thrusts, “...a fuckin’ puppydog, sweetheart.” “But Billy, you’ve got those big brown eyes ...” your own eyes closed at a particularly forceful thrust, “...and you are fucking me, so...”

His only answer this time was to pull one of your legs higher onto his back, thrusting deep as he did, and then his hand cupped your breast and massaged it hard. That shut you up.

His fingers were at your inflamed core again and then he was rubbing at your clit, making your back arch with sheer pleasure. He was switching between kissing you hungrily and nipping and sucking love bites onto your collarbone. Thank god he wasn’t targeting your neck, you thought, that would look so professional at work. You, meanwhile, were over-indulging in your obsession with his hair, running it back off his forehead with your fingers and tugging on it to your heart’s content.

Finally your over-pleasured body couldn’t take any more, and your climax hit you like a truck. Your nails dug into his muscled shoulders, grabbing him in a death grip and a small scream of “Billy!” exited your open mouth. You felt him give a few sharp thrusts, realising that he was about to come; you heard your name, then a long groan and he released his warm seed into you. He sunk down onto you, kissing you softly but with passion, long fingers laying gently along your jaw and neck as he did so.

“Angel....” he sighed.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@blackbirddaredevil23

#ben barnes #billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo imagine #billy russo fanfiction

133 notes · View notes

minniepetals · 4 years

Text

a gentle memory

— summary: sometimes things are just not meant to be. and sometimes they are. the boys recall all their memories spent with you on the day of your wedding.

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: angst, poly!au, break up!au, f2l!au, wedding!au

— word count: 2.2k

— warnings: sad ending

— a/n: i’m sorry

There is something in your eyes, something about it just makes any anger, any dark thoughts and frustrations fall at an instant the second they meet them. They don't know what it is or why and how, but something about them is just enough to lessen all the pains and have them forgetting about all the sad parts of life.

It makes them soft. Makes the crease between their brows lift, makes their lips curl from the corners, and makes their hearts melt.

Your smile, brighter than any star, your fingers that often weaves through their silky hair on both good and bad days, and your soft, soft voice which always whispers gentle words to them. They shall never forget the first moments they realized they had fallen in love with their best friend.

A moment unforgettable like any other moments after that.

Soft kisses.

Laughter. Your giggles ringing in the air.

The way your cheeks will rise in color and you would try to hide your face behind your hands, only for them to take it away and let you squeal in delight because you're easily shy and embarrassed.

Sweet humming lullabies on nights when they cannot sleep. Head too caught up in their thoughts. Nightmares plaguing their minds.

Tears rolling down their eyes, chest tightening, hearts in pain. And then your soft smile when you see them, always the first to run after them, always the first to ask what's wrong even when those tears are hidden under a false image, a false smile.

You'll always catch it.

Always.

And then you'll hold them in your arms, letting them lean against you, face buried in your neck, face against your chest as you run a comforting hand down their head, whispering soft words and allowing them to cry for however long they need it.

You'll let them lay against you, their heads on your chest, ears right atop your heartbeat.

It beats steadily.

One pump.

Two pumps.

Three.

Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

A soft humming sound so crystal clear. And you hold them for as long as they need. Even through sleep. Even when they awake hours later. Sometimes you're still awake, greeting them with a smile and a kiss. Sometimes you've fallen asleep as well. Expression soft, breathing slow and steady.

Even through sleep you do not let go.

When the piano begins to play, everyone looks towards the door and their breaths are held back as they await for you to walk right in. The audience stands at your arrival and their hearts begin to beat hard and rapidly against their chest.

They can hear it.

How loud it's beating.

How hard it's going.

As if ready to just jump right out of their chests.

You are beautiful.

Dressed in white, the pretty gown only looking even more enchanting because of you and you alone. It hugs you just perfectly just the way they have always imagined it to be. Your hair is held up in pretty flowers. You always loved flowers. And you hold white and pink roses in your hand, the white gown and veil trailing right behind you.

You are a goddess.

More beautiful than a goddess.

And they see it, the way you try to keep a straight face but they know you better than that. The corners of your lips tugs. One, two, three seconds in and when you meet their eyes, you can no longer hide it. When you smile, the whole room is even more mesmerized, watching in awe, the ladies all jealous of how gorgeous your beauty is, the men not being able to look away.

They chuckle knowingly.

That's their girl.

Once just a small little child who didn't know how to stand up for herself so they had to butt in, shouting at your bullies and letting you run into their arms because the other kids were being mean and had stolen your crayons.

So Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin let you borrow theirs while the older ones kept watch in case anyone else wants to mess with the cute girl in pigtails.

The friendship grew from then. They'd always protect you whenever you need it, even past middle school when you could finally get some bravery in and try to be stronger than you thought you could ever be. It's a hard process, and a long one for you, because people are scary and you don't like mean people. Still they hold you through it and watch as you grow into the woman you are now.

College years were what made things turn into a little twist. But had it even been a twist when they saw it coming?

Nothing changed.

But they were finally able to kiss you and hold you for as long as they could. They could make you smile brighter and you would be reverting back to your shy stages where every little soft gesture they make at you will make you melt and you wouldn't know how to react.

Instead hiding your face in your hands and run away squealing because they're so "cheesy."

But you like it. They know you do.

Even if you'll pretend to cringe and say you don't like it.

First anniversary.

Second.

Third.

And before the fourth could happen, something went wrong.

They got used to it. To your kind and giving self and forgot that just simply relying on you to help them feel better isn't the best way to walk through a relationship.

They forgot.

Forgot to care for you and pay attention to the little things. Forgot to say thank you, to ask if you were doing alright, to ask if you were happy. You weren't doing alright and you weren't entirely happy. But they never knew because you never showed. Once that never mattered because they used to be able to tell every little lie you'll make even before you say them aloud. So when you'd fake a smile and hide your tears whenever you felt things became too rough on you, they'd just let it go without noticing the hidden trail of tears or the redness in your eyes.

Still you'd ask if they were alright. If they were eating well, if they were happy.

And when they weren't, you could simply tell without them needing to say a thing. You'll run a bath, cook them food, and let them lay their heads and rest for as long as they need it.

Forgetting to care for your own self.

But they should have been the ones to remind you, right? They should've been the ones to care for you, to give you love and show that they haven't forgotten about your wellbeing.

Hence a little fight started.

Escalating into them saying harsh words they never meant to say, burning tears in your eyes, and ripping out your heart.

Telling you you don't care and have forgotten about them when the truth was the other way around. But anger in a strong thing that blinds one from seeing what is right and wrong.

Even then you never blamed them.

The first to say sorry, feeling as if it is all your fault because they fueled those thoughts into you.

It was wrong.

So wrong.

And before they realized it all, you were already gone.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be enough," you said but that wasn't true. It was never true. You had always been enough, more than enough, but they forgot to remind you of that and only made you feel worse about yourself. They didn't realize you had been crying to yourself nights after nights when everyone went to sleep. Insomnia. Nightmares scaring you from sleeping. Yet when they came to you with their problems, you'd stay awake all night just to make sure they were alright again.

So it was right for you to leave.

To find yourself.

A break.

A six month leave and then that fateful encounter happened when you met Namjoon.

It wasn't great at first, not at all. The air thick with awkwardness but you were the first to break.

"How have you been?"

Always the one to look past the bad memories and see what's in front of you instead. But Namjoon was sure you were still hurt by the things they said.

"Good. I've been...I've been good."

A lie.

So he sighed and let his guard down to tell you the truth, the honest truth.

He wasn't good, they were never good after you left, and asked if you wanted to meet up with the others to which you agreed.

Things weren't...the best, so you all decided to just start as friends again. After all, you were all best friends before anything happened.

It went well.

So great.

And they began to pay attention to the little things again.

How your eyes will always sparkle when you see something you like, or the scrunching of your nose when you'd smile or grimace. They returned to their old ways, before things went wrong, before they broke you and hurt you and tore your heart apart. Apologies were spilled but even then they decided simple words would never be enough. Not for you. You deserved so much more and they decided to give you that.

And they did.

They do.

Doing all that they can just to see your pretty smile that will always make their hearts flutter.

And now here they are, four years later, having proved their worth and willing to show more again and again until the day death tears you apart.

Because you deserve everything.

Every single thing.

They watch you with gentle smiles, tears welling up, not being able to believe it just yet.

You're beautiful. So, so beautiful.

And they can't believe it.

Finally able to see you in a wedding dress with your pretty smile lighting up your face, the most excited you have ever been in your entire life besides the day of the proposal.

They watch you as memories flood their minds of every little moment spent with you, knowing there will be more moments to see in the future. They watch as you take slow steps down the aisle. Waiting, and waiting.

When you meet their eyes, your eyes crinkle a little more, smile widening and cheeks rising.

You are beautiful and they are blessed to be the ones by your side.

Even if it means you aren't theirs.

Even if it means you're walking towards another man that will make the rest of your life the happiest times.

You pass them.

Eyes straying away.

Their hearts fall.

And your eyes meet the person who will be with you for the rest of your life.

A hand passed to hold his, your hearts fluttering with excitement and love, shy smiles, and you giggle as he whispers words they will never have a chance to hear.

Their hearts fall.

A tear escapes.

"I love you," he tells you after his vow.

"I love you," you say after your vow.

They can still remember it all, they remember everything today.

He had been waiting for you, chasing after you, but also remaining patient for as long as he needed. You didn't want to jump into a relationship, too scared, too afraid, but also for another reason they wish to believe it is because you were still in love with them.

Yet he waited.

A patient man.

Always there for you when you cried, when you were frustrated, happy, and grumpy. He noticed the little things, picked up your fake smiles, the words you say that are false to your emotions, and waited. Waited for as long as he could, never straying away to other women who were in line for him.

"Why?" They remember you asking. "Why does he do this? I'm not...I'm not worth all of this."

"Oh Y/N. You are worth everything in this entire universe."

And so much more.

So when you gave him a chance, they stepped back. Let you go. Let him have a chance to make you happy.

But would always remind the man that if he ever did anything to hurt you, they'll kill him.

"I'm so scared," they remember you saying. "What if it doesn't work out? I'll have to hurt again, won't I?"

It was all their fault for making you feel that way, for making you worry about another failed relationship.

So they stepped up to make sure things went well, to make sure he knew never to take advantage of your kindness and to always care for you.

Yet it seems they never really had to remind him because he never forgot.

Never.

Not like them.

And that's when they realized that in this world, this lifetime, you are not theirs.

You were never theirs to begin with.

So no matter what, seeing you up there, smiling as you meet their eyes again, they return the smile so bittersweet and hide the tears in a way even you can't tell they're hoping to break down and cry.

Because they are happy.

Truly.

Even if your soulmate is not them. Because in this lifetime you belong to someone else. Someone that can make you happier, grow into a better woman than you are at this moment, help you during your ups and downs, and there to remain by your side.

Perhaps in another lifetime.

Perhaps you can be theirs then.

703 notes · View notes

thedragonnerd · 3 years

Text

we forgive ourselves last

‘We’re not going to give her a choice,’ she says, and the underlying threat is clear enough to Namaari that her blood runs cold.

‘What are you going to do?’

‘That’s no longer your concern, my love,’ Ma rests a hand on her shoulder, fully in the role of Chief now. ‘You’ve done enough.’

The finality of her words is obvious, but as Namaari watches her walk away, all she can think is: maybe I’ve done too little.

Read on ao3, or under the cut!

Namaari doesn’t allow the royal army to slow down for the entire ride from Spine back to Fang, pushing them through the night. Her mind remains in turmoil over what she has just witnessed, the logical side of her in disbelief over the fact she saw a genuine dragon, alive and in the flesh, roaring so loudly that her battle-hardened warriors staggered back in fear. The magical fog still lingers in the distance, obscuring the pathway that lies behind them.

Deep in her heart however, she knows it to be true. She knows that it was Sisudatu herself who stood before her, that it was Sisudatu who stared directly into her eyes and through to her soul. Guilt has always been an unwelcome companion for Namaari, following her through life and scratching at her brain whenever she sees a new face turned to stone. It now rears its ugly head again, as she fears what Sisu saw within.

She arrives to the Fang Palace several moments before the rest of her warriors, slipping down from her serlot’s back and striding ahead even as she hears the others come clattering to a halt behind her.

‘Mother! We need to talk!’ Namaari calls out, bowing her head and raising her hands in the appropriate gesture of respect; her distraction and growing enthusiasm over seeing Sisu making her forget to say “Chief Virana” in front of Fang citizens.

Her mother has been entertaining small children, and they all look to Namaari in undisguised delight.

‘It’s Princess Namaari!’ she hears a small voice exclaim, and then they are bowing and crowding around her even as her mother is gently ushering them away.

‘Alright, alright…now run along, kittens,’ her mother commands. Namaari allows herself a moment to wave and smile at them before her attention is directed straight back on topic with her mother’s next words. ‘I have to speak with the Princess.’

‘Mother, you won’t believe what I saw,’ she says, the excitement creeping into her voice at last. If Sisu really has returned, she would be able to save everyone, to fix what has been broken for so many years. And maybe, just maybe, the era of dragons could exist again. The child-like wonder that she always feels when she reflects on dragons for too long is beginning to awaken inside her.

‘You saw a dragon,’ Ma says, and the excitement inside Namaari dies at once in the face of her mother’s disapproval. ‘General Atitaya informed me that you’d be returning home without the gem pieces.’

The rebuke is clear.

‘It was Sisu,’ Namaari tries, desperate for her to understand. ‘She can fix what we broke – she can bring everyone back.’

We can undo my mistakes, and maybe I can be free of this guilt, she thinks, but dares not say out loud.

‘And that’s what scares me!’ Ma says, banging her staff on the ground. The Dragon Gem piece glitters in the sunlight. ‘When everyone comes back, who do you think they’ll come for? You forget; the other lands blame us for what’s happened.’

‘But we…We never meant for anyone to get hurt,’ Namaari says, and yet the reasoning sounds weak to her own ears. The image of the different leaders fighting over the Dragon Gem springs unbidden into her mind, as does Raya’s look of devastation as it smashed to the floor. Another wave of guilt hits her, and she is reminded of Sisu’s unspoken judgement.

‘Yes, but if we had the dragon and the Gem pieces, we would be forgiven. We could save the world,’ Ma continues. ‘But more importantly, our people would remain safe.’

It sounds tempting, so tempting. If they had Sisu and the completed Dragon Gem, they could save all the lands and be heroes. No more would Namaari have to see stone people in her nightmares, no more would she have to tell another Fang family that their loved one has been caught by the Druun on one of their expeditions. Perhaps even Raya could forgive her, in time. And yet…

‘But Raya isn’t just going to give Sisu to us,’ Namaari argues, and her mother sighs deeply.

‘We’re not going to give her a choice,’ she says in response, and the underlying threat is clear enough to Namaari that her blood runs cold.

‘What are you going to do?’

‘That’s no longer your concern, my love,’ Ma rests a hand on her shoulder, fully in the role of Chief now. ‘You’ve done enough.’

The finality of her words is obvious, but as Namaari watches her walk away, all she can think is: maybe I’ve done too little.

Later, Namaari sits on her bed and broods. Her heart is torn in two, and she cannot decide which path to take. She is desperate to save her people, first and foremost, and yet the best route to achieve that is unclear.

On one hand, her mother’s concern has awoken the same fears inside her. Even before the breaking of the Gem, Fang was perceived as a harsh land of assassins and warriors, cutthroat in business and too proud to interact much with the other lands. It’s never mattered that all the leaders had a hand in the destruction of the Gem. Everyone remembers the ‘greed’ of Fang in targeting what they thought was Heart’s source of prosperity, and the rest has slipped from people’s minds. Now, they are pariahs, a land which has survived better than most during the Druun reign due to its willingness to stand alone and close its doors as much as possible. If they don’t have direct involvement in saving the world, then when everyone returns, they could be pushed aside even more. Trade could cease to exist, and along with that comes a risk of famine and poverty. Namaari never wants her people to see those dark times again.

On the other hand, Namaari fears what her mother has in plan for Raya. She knows the other girl will never back down from a fight, and even less so if she has Sisu, the other Gem pieces, and clearly some sort of plan.

At the end of the day, she knows Raya is coming for her – or at least for Fang. There is one Gem piece left, and it sits within her mother’s staff. At the same time, Raya could be walking into what could end up being a deadly trap.

For the last six years, Namaari has lived with the guilt of what she has done to Raya, in a more deeply personal sense than her responsibility for the rest of the world. She isn’t sure she could survive being to blame for even more tragedy to befall Raya.

Just then, an animal screech comes from outside her window. Whirling around, she sees a small package dropped onto the windowsill, along with a note, although the messenger themselves is nowhere in sight, no matter how much she peers around.

She unfurls the note first, but it is little more than a crude map, with a small ‘x’ marking a spot on the riverbank across from the Palace. She can already guess who it is from, but unwrapping the package to reveal her childhood pendant confirms her suspicions.

She stands by the window, her mind at last resolved.

Dawn is breaking by the time she reaches the place at the riverbank marked out by Raya, but the others are not yet there. Her heart is pounding in her chest, and her hand is clammy as it clutches the piece of Dragon Gem she has stolen from her mother’s staff.

The fact that her mother lies there asleep and unprotected weighs heavily, but she is determined to see this through. If they are successful, if Sisu can really bring back everyone, then they will never have to worry about the Druun again, and her betrayal can be forgiven – or so she hopes.

She holds the Dragon pendant in her other hand, reminding her why she has really come. It keeps her grounded whenever she feels the desire to bolt back to the Palace and agree to her mother’s plan instead.

‘I see you got my gift,’ a soft voice breaks through her thoughts. It is strange not to go directly for a weapon, but Namaari allows herself to appreciate the sight of Raya standing in front of her with a small smile on her face instead. It’s been so long since they last had a conversation without it ending in a fight, and even longer still since Raya looked at her with any sort of a welcoming expression.

‘I never thought I’d see this again,’ she feels herself say, and her own voice sounds far, far away. Raya shrugs a shoulder awkwardly.

‘Well, uh…I tried to take good care of it,’ she says. ‘You’re not the only dragon nerd here.’

They gaze at each other for a moment, and Namaari emits a slight chuckle, before becoming serious. The time is now or never – no going back once she has taken this next step.

She places the Gem piece on the ground, and accepts her fate. Raya nods, an understanding passing between them, and then her concentration is broken by the arrival of none other than Sisudatu herself.

Namaari bends low into a bow, raising her hands in respect. The awe of seeing a dragon in front of her for a second time is not lessened in any way, and as she straightens up, Sisu smiles back at her. She can’t help but tuck her hair behind her ear self-consciously, hoping this time that Sisu will see something better in her than before, will see that she is trying to atone for her mistakes.

‘The final piece,’ she hears Sisu say, and then Raya is reaching down to open her bag.

‘Raya,’ Namaari finds her voice again. ‘Raya, I came her to warn you also. My mother-’

‘Is very proud of her daughter,’ her mother announces, and the sound of many crossbows being loaded rings out in the clearing. A large group of Fang warriors emerge from the forest, dragging Raya’s companions with them, Chief Virana leading the way. Namaari’s breath catches in her throat.

‘I must thank you, Morning Mist, for bringing us straight to the Dragon Gem and to Sisu herself.’

‘You tricked us?’ Raya asks, her voice shaking. It is a flashback to six years ago – Raya looking upon Namaari with utter betrayal and disgust.

‘No Raya, I-’ Namaari tries to choke out, but Raya turns away, two red blotches on her cheeks showing just how angry she feels.

‘Take the rest of the Gem pieces,’ her mother commands, and just as Namaari expected, Raya draws her sword immediately, stepping in front of Sisu.

‘If you want Sisu or the Gem pieces, you’ll have to go through me first,’ she calls out, her voice strong despite being outnumbered. The large man dressed in Spine clothing is already beginning to fight his captivity, and all at once there is chaos as the yelling starts and a brawl breaks out between Raya’s companions and some Fang warriors. The rest stay focused on Raya and Sisu, clearly reluctant to shoot towards the dragon but unsure how to carry out their Chief’s order.

Through all the shouting and fighting, a voice reaches out to Namaari.

‘I believe you,’ Sisu says, and the dragon is staring at her with a soft and open expression. ‘Namaari, I believe you came to help us.’

The tears rush unbidden to Namaari’s eyes, and she takes a shuddering breath at those words, barely able to believe what she has heard. Hope is blossoming from her chest, that she can help resolve this misunderstanding and endless cycle of mistrust.

And then Namaari watches it all happen as if in slow motion. General Atitaya’s crossbow raises slightly, wavering towards Sisu, and her finger twitches on the trigger. Raya notices in the same instance, striking out with her sword and knocking the soldier’s hand.

The crossbow swings back towards Raya, and there is a small click as the arrow breaks free, shooting straight and true towards its target. Namaari watches it aim directly for Raya’s heart, Sisu’s words still ringing in her mind.

And then she steps forward, and feels the arrow pierce her skin.

‘…maari? Namaari?’

Someone is calling her name.

She feels very cold through her entire body, except where there are two warm arms wrapped around her. It is difficult to open her eyes, and the darkness seems far more welcoming. She lets her mind drift slightly.

‘Namaari, wake up!’ The person is now shaking her shoulders, causing a pain to rip down her left side. It startles her into opening her eyes properly, where she has to blink away water droplets. Rain pours down around them, and when she shifts her head slightly, her cheek comes into contact with Raya’s chest.

‘Raya, the rain isn’t going to hold them back forever,’ Sisu’s voice calls from afar. ‘They’re gathering in number…I think they were attracted by the fighting.’

It takes a few moments for the meaning of the words to sink into Namaari’s brain, and when she focuses on something other than the pain, she can hear the unearthly howls above the rain. The druun are here.

‘Namaari, we have to get you to the doctor,’ Raya is saying, looking down at her with large, worried eyes and damp hair plastered to her skin. One of her hands is trembling slightly, as she raises it to Namaari’s face, and her fingers are smeared with blood.

She has never looked so pretty to Namaari before.

‘I can take her back to the Palace,’ Ma says, and she realises her mother is kneeling down on her other side, clutching her hand and disregarding the mud smeared across her white clothing. ‘Give me back a piece of the Gem so I can get us there!’

‘You won’t make it through the Druun,’ Raya snaps back. ‘Let me take her and Sisu…we’ll travel faster.’

Namaari lets the sound of their disagreement wash over her. The pain is becoming stronger now, and breathing is difficult. Even if they get her back to the palace, she is not sure there is anything to be done. She’s so tired.

But maybe that is the point, a voice whispers in her mind. It is the same voice that has plagued her nightmares all these last years. You were the one who broke the world. You were the one who brought this hatred and distrust to your people, to Raya. Maybe your ending can fix it.

‘I’m not going anywhere,’ she whispers through numb lips. Raya and her mother break off their argument to look down at her.

‘Morning Mist, you don’t have much time,’ Ma says, stroking her hair. Raya grunts in acknowledgement, and unwraps an arm from around Namaari’s shoulders to slide it under her legs. But before she can be lifted, Namaari raises a weak hand and knocks her back.

‘I’m not going anywhere until you put the Gem back together,’ she insists, trying to sound firm even as her strength is failing her. She isn’t sure that this will be enough, that their concern for her will be enough. But she plays the only card she has to left to play, and lays down her ultimatum anyway. ‘Save everyone, Raya. I believe in you.’

Raya loosens her grip slightly, clearly unsure what to do. Then suddenly, Sisu is there, dropping Fang’s piece of the Gem next to them.

‘You heard Namaari! Let’s fix this big ball of power, save the world, and then get our girl the medical attention she needs!’

Namaari feels herself being transferred gently from Raya’s arms to her mother’s lap, but the movement still makes her cry out in pain.

Raya glances her way once more, and nods in determination. She gathers the Gem pieces into her hands, slotting them together into a perfect orb once more. A bright glow seeps through her fingers, and the last thing Namaari sees before darkness takes her is Raya, lit with an ethereal blue light from the Dragon Gem.

When Namaari next awakens, she is in her own bed. The blankets are warm, her body is in considerably less pain, and Raya is curled up on the other side of her mattress.

Wait, what?

‘Raya?’ she croaks, her throat dry, but it is enough to disturb the sleeping figure, who sits upright with a start.

‘You’re awake? How are you feeling? I mean, I guess probably pretty bad considering you were shot by a crossbow,’ she rambles, a hand awkwardly patting her hair. Namaari laughs at her softly, and then can’t help but wince as the movement causes her wound to throb ominously. Raya leans over to hold a glass of water to her lips, and she manages to swallow a few mouthfuls.

‘Did it work?’ she has to know. She wants to see with her own eyes, but can tell she won’t be leaving this bed for a while. ‘Is your father back?’

Raya looks at her for a long moment.

‘Yes, it worked,’ she says finally, and a smile breaks out across her face. ‘Everyone has returned. Ba is in fact downstairs right now…I think him and your mother are trying to write a hundred trade deals at once. And he’s demanding a celebration for the return of Kumandra.’

Relief hits Namaari all at once, making her feel slightly dizzy and sick. She tries to subtly turn her head so Raya can’t see the tears in her eyes.

‘Of course, it would have also worked if we had waited until AFTER we got some binturi to the doctor,’ Raya adds suddenly, her voice taking on a disapproving tone. ‘Why did you insist we fix the Gem first? The doctors said another ten minutes, and maybe…’

She trails off, but Namaari understands the end of the sentence. Another ten minutes, and you might not have survived.

‘I wasn’t sure if I would make it anyway,’ she confesses, staring up at the ceiling rather than look Raya in the eyes. ‘And I wanted to make sure I made up for my mistakes before I died.’

Raya is quiet for a moment. Namaari can feel the bed shift slightly as she lays down next to her and rests her head back on a pillow.

‘It wasn’t just your mistake to atone for,’ Raya says eventually. It sounds like forgiveness. ‘I hope you’ll see that one day.’

Her hand slowly shuffles across the covers, and Namaari inhales slightly when she feels their fingers entwine.

They lie there together in silence, watching the sun rise on Kumandra through the window.

#rayaari #rayaari fic #raya and the last dragon #raya and namaari #ratld #raya #namaari #my writing #i always thought namaari went through with the crossbow scheme also because she was scared of her mother's ominous plan #and wanted to protect sisu and raya from said plan #and obviously wanted to protect her people too #here is an AU where she chooses to warn raya instead #but shit still goes down #we love drama #no beta we die like druuns against the dragon gem #also of course sisu wasn't judging namaari in spine #but namaari is an unreliable narrator #hope you enjoy!

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ace-in-a-shopping-cart · 3 years

Text

Stolen Moments (Love Letters)

Word Count: 5,848 CW: Mentions of violence, cursing, hospital

Gavin opened his messages, desperate to hear some news from Nines. Instead of getting a message from Nines telling him he was fine and ready to return home, he got an automated message from the repair hospital telling him he needed to pick up his personal effects, more information in an email to follow. Gavin switched over to his email and found a large file.

He sat down at his terminal, ignoring that it was his work device and he was on the clock, and opened it to find over two hundred messages from Nines, all addressed to himself. The email itself said that Nines, as his professional partner, was mostly his responsibility and property and that Gavin was responsible for his bills and the choice to repair or replace him. He needed to come to the hospital by end of day and make the decision.

Gavin scoffed. “I guess some things still haven’t changed no matter how progressive people pretend to be.”

He reread the last line until it set in that Nines’ life was in his hands. He jolted out of his chair, the seat rolling back until it hit the side of someone else’s desk, and rushed to Fowler’s office. He threw the door open, not caring that the captain was in the middle of a meeting.

Gavin didn’t bother with preamble, getting straight to his point. “Sir, I need the day off.”

Fowler sighed, moving things around on his terminal for a bit. “You’ve got days off saved up. Go ahead.”

Gavin thanked him, rushing out the door and to the repair hospital. He just about crashed through the doors and made a beeline for the receptionist. “I’m looking for an RK900 unit who goes by the name ‘Nines’. What room is he in?”

She looked up at him, expression bored. “Serial number?”

Gavin frustratedly gave it, having memorized it long ago, and waited impatiently to be told where he was. When told, Gavin didn’t bother thanking the receptionist before he was off to see Nines. It was agonizing having to wait for the elevator, even worse having to stand in it as it went up, his fingers tapping on his leg the entire ride. His eyes scanned the room numbers, getting frantic with the thought of not getting to him in time. When he found the room he’d been told was Nines’, he went directly inside.

Nines was alone in the room. He was lying on a white bed, his chassis exposed from his toes to his neck. His head and neck were the only things that still had his skin on it, looking for all the world as if he were peacefully sleeping despite the LED that kept a steady yellow light. Gavin sighed in relief at him being there, despite the numerous injuries he still sported, and pulled a chair over to sit next to him. He held his hand and grabbed his tablet from his bag.

“Alright, tin can. What’d you send me?” He opened the large folder, looking at the abundance of files that were inside it. Turning his head to Nines, he joked, “Any idea where to start?” Sadly, Nines stayed as silent and still as before, not a word to be spoken.

Gavin kissed the back of his hand, running his thumb over a crack in the plating. He turned his attention back to the tablet and scrolled down through the file names. Each one had a series of numbers as a name, something Gavin quickly figured out was a date. Scrolling through them, they were in chronological order. He only found it fitting to open the first one and go from there, wondering what they could be.

Detective,

The other day, we were talking on a stake out. I mentioned there being more to admire about you than to detest and have just now realized the error of not continuing that thought. I admire your work ethic, the way you have a single-minded drive to complete the case assigned to us. I appreciate how gentle you are with victims and those you like. You may not notice it but care is in every word you speak and every action you make for those you genuinely consider to be loved ones and the few victims we’ve spoken to. I’ve noticed your actions softening toward me, even as your words stay as harsh as they’ve ever been. I might be wrong, but it seems you’ve come to care for me yet wish to continue our ribbing as something more friendly. If this is your way of extending an olive branch, I am more than willing to accept it and will continue to banter with you.

Gavin smiled as he looked back at Nines. “Thank you so much for understanding me, you barely held together stack of rust and bolts.”

A voice laughed but it wasn’t Nines’. Instead, Gavin’s attention was drawn to the doorway where someone in a white lab coat, a small pin on the lapel reading ‘they/them’, stood. “I see you arrived.”

Gavin stood, laying the tablet on the bed but not letting go of Nines’ hand. “Who do I have to tell that this man is a person who deserves every right to live and fight as anyone else?”

They laughed again, coming inside the room to lean against a wall. “That would be me. I’m Ash Windlock, head of Simon Repair Hospital. I apologize if the message made it seem more urgent than it truly is.”

Gavin clenched his jaw, having to force himself to take even breaths. “What’s Nines’ condition?”

“I’m not going to lie. He’s in some pretty bad shape. We can only repair the body, not the coding and neural pathways he developed by being deviant. Right now, our best team is gathering to do a surgery, as repairs have taken to being called, as soon as we can. I’ll update you when that happens.”

Gavin’s hand held Nines’ just a bit tighter. “How well do you expect that to go? What do you mean, you can’t repair his code?”

“The surgery is expected to be a full success. When an android becomes deviant, their code changes in ways the programmers weren’t equipped to handle. It would take too long for them to learn the new coding that is specific to every android just to be able to repair them without fear of damaging the new coding and, thus, the deviant. Even if that were possible, RK900s are extremely rare in this part of the world, not many having been found and awoken. So, it’d take even longer to figure out his specific neural paths. That’s time we don’t have. So, while we can do everything in our power to repair his chassis and wiring, we can’t do anything about his mind palace unless he does something about it himself. He went into low power mode when he was damaged and we don’t know if he’ll come out of it after the surgery.”

Gavin nodded, struggling to process the amount of information that was just pushed onto him. “Okay, yeah, I’ll sign whatever permission waver you need me to when it comes to the surgery as I’m closest to next of kin while Connor is out of town. Just, charge the bill to the DPD, he’s under their employ.” Connor should be back by that afternoon but they didn’t need to know that.

They nodded. “I’ll be back in a moment with the paperwork for next of kin.”

Gavin sat back down, fidgeting with Nines’ fingers as he usually did when nervous. “While we wait,” he spoke to Nines, hoping it was like a coma where he could still hear him, “how about I look at another one of your files?”

This one was a video, a few days after the writing. It didn’t seem like much, just a video of Gavin flipping through some files while he worked. There were captions on it, little things being picked out. Gavin's bouncing leg, how his dominant hand was tapping a tablet pen against his fingertips and knuckles, the half full cup of coffee that Gavin had sitting on his desk, the mess of a desk that he knew like the back of his hand. Other things were noticed too, the way Gavin’s brow was furrowed as he concentrated, the clump of hair that’d fallen over his forehead, his nose wrinkling, the slight redness on his fingers from the repeated tapping of the pen, even the creases of his jacket were picked out as important. The video couldn’t have been more than two minutes of Gavin working but it said a lot about what Nines thought about him at that time.

Gavin looked back up at Nines, lying so still on the bed he would have looked dead to anyone else. “Did you really have a crush on me back then, toaster?” His voice was light and teasing. He wanted Nines to be awake, to tell him to stop with the android jokes, to tell him Gavin had been crushing long since Nines had, to tell him all sorts of things.

A video. Gavin walked down the stairs, Nines staring up at him. Suddenly the scene paused and became monochromatic, as a white outline of Gavin reached the bottom of the stairs, a grey outline of Nines leaned forward to kiss his cheek. The outlines reversed until the white outline matched with Gavin again and the scene unfroze, the world filling with color. Gavin passed Nines and the android turned to follow.

Another one, edited to follow that. Gavin sat at his desk. The world paused and faded again as a grey outline of Nines approached with a coffee cup, kissing the top of Gavin’s head and placing the cup on the desk before leaning into him and running his fingers through his hair. The images reversed and instead Nines simply handed him the cup, Gavin giving a brief, “Thanks.”

Three more scenes similar to those followed in sequence, where the grey outline tried to interact in a romantic way with the white outline before Nines inevitably didn’t act on those thoughts.

Gavin sat and stared at Nines, his grip on Nines hand tightening just the slightest bit. “You should have told me sooner, dumbass.” His voice was soft, softer than he ever spoke to anyone besides Nines.

Windlock came back in with a tablet that Gavin had to fill out. Other repairs Nines had previously had, if he knew who did those, if he knew who originally built him, signing a bunch of things that came with medical power of attorney. When he handed the tablet back, he was told they’d operate in a half hour.

Another video. This one was different, footage of a garden. Gravel crunched under footsteps and animals were heard but not seen, water. Nines stopped by a pond and glanced down, brushing a stray strand of hair back into place. His shirt had a simpler collar than normal and was a lighter shade of black. He leaned back, continuing on the path. Images of Gavin appeared along it, some sitting on benches doing random actions, others walking beside Nines for short periods of time. One of them came up to Nines and started talking about the case at the time, Nines participating in the conversation.

Gavin looked from the tablet to stare at Nines. “Were you dreaming about me?” His voice was quiet, bewildered yet flattered.

The next ten files were similar things, Nines’ dreams about Gavin and videos of Gavin doing mundane tasks that wouldn’t be considered special in any way. At least, none that Gavin could tell. As far as he was concerned, the videos of himself that had been overanalyzed were sweet but he didn’t understand why Nines kept them.

Soon enough, a group of people came in and took Nines away to the operating room. Gavin was allowed to stay in the hospital room but was warned the operation would last several hours. He reluctantly put down the files Nines had addressed to him, files he was quickly realizing were simply labeled with his name and may have been misinterpreted as for him when they were just about him, and pulled out a book instead. He tried to lose himself in a plot line but was too anxious to do so.

Calling Tina got him nowhere, her phone off while she was on patrol. He’d taken the day off to be with Nines so wasn’t technically allowed to work on case files. Besides, nothing felt the same without Nines being there to help him. So, he reluctantly pulled up the files again and selected the next one, a video. There seemed to be a lot of those.

Gavin smiled as Nines approached, coming to stand next to him on his balcony. They were quiet for a moment, both looking out at the city. Nines looked at Gavin, his sensors again cataloguing small things about his appearance. “I need to tell you something.”

Gavin looked at him, eyes trusting. “Shoot.”

Nines’ eyes shut briefly before he looked at Gavin again. “I’ve developed feelings for you.”

Gavin blinked, his posture changing from relaxed to attentive. “Okay, that’s something.” He took a deep breath, letting it out with a laugh. “I guess it’s ironic, you telling me that just as I realize something about myself.”

Nines head tilted to the side. “What would that be, Detective?”

“I’ve, somehow, also developed feelings for you.” He shook his head. “I dunno how I’ve done it, but I’ve come to really care for you.”

Nines took a step forward, towards Gavin. “What does this mean for us?”

Gavin shrugged, looking up at him. “What do you want it to mean?”

Nines leaned down. “I would enthusiastically pursue a romantic relationship with you if you say you would like that.”

Gavin smiled, leaning up to kiss his cheek before heading inside. “I wouldn’t say no,” was tossed over his shoulder.

In the top right corner of the screen, Gavin’s name came up highlighted in blue. Under it, highlighted in white, the word ‘companion’ changed to ‘lover’. Nines followed Gavin inside.

Gavin didn’t realize he was crying until a tear dripped onto the screen and he frantically pulled his sleeve over his hand to wipe it away. “Damn android,” he muttered, not truly angry with him.

They were slow dancing. Gavin’s head rested on Nines’ shoulder, one hand placed on his other shoulder while Nines had a hand on his waist, their other hands clasped together. A small pop up in the corner of the video identified the song as Can’t Help Falling in Love by Elvis. They were turning in a slow circle as the notes played. It was a peaceful moment until Princess walked into the room, screaming for food, and the charm was broken with laughter. Nines pulled Gavin into a kiss briefly before Gavin went to feed the cat.

Gavin took a deep breath. He remembered that night, remembered the hard day before it and the cuddles on the couch afterwards. He’d never been able to remember what song they’d been dancing to, it blurring into just another generic love song at the time. He wondered if they’d ever get the opportunity to dance to it again.

Gavin,

Every day, my soul rejoices in being able to see you, to wake up to you being there with me. I want it all. I want the quiet domesticity that comes with waking near you, that comes with you making breakfast while I feed Princess. I love being able to get ready for work with you, even if that means we end up discussing the cases in the shower and while you shave. I love being able to work with you, to have you as both my work and personal partner. I enjoy getting you coffee as you look over the case files, to make sure the desk is still in the organized chaos you left it in, your files and trinkets spilling over onto my pristine desk. I probably enjoy that more than most would think I do. However, I love watching you from afar as I wait for the coffee, watching the way you sit and interact with your environment, how you hold yourself while you read.

There’s a hidden beauty in the way people do things when they don’t think others are watching, the little mannerisms they pick up that are just for themselves and are all their own. I’m so glad you’ve let me into your life enough to feel comfortable showing me those and I hope that I never betray that trust.

I love being able to drive home with you, to relax after a long day and curl up with you. I relish the fact that you will fall asleep in my arms, that you trust me enough to keep you safe while you’re unaware of the world around you. I love being able to have you fall asleep on the couch and trust me to carry you to the bed, the ability to fall asleep beside you.

Gavin, darling, I don’t know what I’d do without you in my life. You’ve been a driving force for me, a guiding light. Whether you realize it or not, you’ve influenced so many of my choices. Thank you, dear, for helping me find life in deviancy, for helping me find love in turmoil.

Gavin wiped a tear from his eye, vision turning blurry. Nines didn’t usually use pet names for him, sticking to ‘Gavin’ and ‘Detective’ to the point that the latter felt like an endearment. It felt nice to see the endearments from him. He really hoped Nines would pull through and be okay. He couldn’t imagine living life without him at this point, he relied on him so much. He shifted in his seat, trying to get a bit more comfortable, before clicking on the next file.

A video. This was a memory that Gavin could fill in the smaller details for.

Nines was on his back on the couch. Gavin was laying on top of him, arms curled around Nines’ sides. His head rested on Nines chest, their legs entangled, while Nines’ hands carded through Gavin’s hair and over his back. They were watching an old rerun of some cop show that not even Nines bothered remembering. Nines’ shifted, kissing the top of Gavin’s head. He hummed, holding a constant note for longer than a human could.

Gavin looked up at him, chin resting on Nines’ chest. “Why do you do that?”

“Do what? Kiss you?” He chuckled. “Because I like to.”

Gavin smiled but pressed his hand to Nines’ side. “No. The humming thing. It sounds like a cross between a cat purring and the whirring of a fan. Are you okay?”

Nines nodded, smiling. “It’s kind of like a cat’s purr too in that I only do it when I’m content and safe. It’s also a way of doing a self-diagnostic of my systems as it tests both vocal modulator and fans.”

Gavin leaned forward to peck Nines on the lips before laying his head back on his chest.

Gavin sniffled, wiping a tear from his cheek. He hoped to get the opportunity to lay with him like that again soon. He believed Nines was going to pull through this, that he was going to get through the surgery fine and that he was going to come back to him. He had to.

“Detective.”

That sounded so much like Nines that his name was halfway out of Gavin’s mouth before he realized it was Connor, not Nines, that was standing in the hallway with his hands behind his back. “Oh. It’s just you. What do you want?” His voice was flat, none of his usual bite left.

Connor smiled, taking a step into the room, closing the door behind him. “Officer Chen overheard some of your conversation with Fowler and logged into your computer to gather information. She sent that information to me and I just now arrived to do anything with it. Scans indicate that you haven’t eaten in the past twelve hours. I suggest we deal with that first. What do you wanna eat?” His LED swirled yellow as he probably pulled up a list of nearby restaurants.

Gavin sighed, feeling the exhaustion of the day kick in. “At this point, you can pick. Give me whatever you think is best. Just! No fish, and no zucchini.”

Connor tilted his head. “That’s not in any medical files you have available. Am I correct in assuming that’s personal preference?”

Gavin nodded. “Can’t stand the texture of either of ‘em.” As he fully tuned into the real world, he pulled his shoulders back and grimaced at the sounds of all the machines and the buzzing of the lights.

“Okay, there’s a Chinese restaurant nearby that has some meals that look good. What do you want from there?”

“Uhh, sweet and sour chicken with noodles.”

Connor nodded. “I’ll go get that for you. In the meantime, how is my brother?”

Gavin filled him in on the details before Connor went to grab the take out for him. While he waited for his food, he opened the next file, another letter. This one was small, as if it were hastily written. From the date and what Gavin remembered, it was from a time where they’d been covering a case with a lot of violence and they’d been split. The letter reflected Nines’ frazzled emotions during that time as it wished Gavin good health and it was a small goodbye if Nines didn’t make it. Gavin was glad he had.

Another round of videos detailing Gavin doing mundane things followed the letter, many of the scenes now domestic as well as professional.

Connor came back and put the bag near Gavin. “Did you need me to stay? Tina only told me to check on you, not stay with you. If you want me to go, I will.”

Gavin thought about it. A year ago, he would have snapped for Connor to leave instantly, not seeing him as anything but a machine with nothing to offer. Now, he knew Connor was alive and actually trying to reach out. Gavin let a reluctant smile drag a corner of his mouth up. “You can stay, if you want. I’m not sure if you’ve got the time for it but you’re more than welcome.”

Connor smiled, gracefully sinking to sit on the floor. “I cleared my schedule to be at your disposal.”

Gavin groaned, letting his head roll back. “Am I that bad?”

Connor shrugged. “Hank was taking the rest of the day off already so it’s only natural for me to as well. Besides, Nines is kind of like my little brother. I want to be here.”

Gavin took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Gavin picked up the tablet again and looked at the next file.

Gavin,

Happy first anniversary. I don’t know if you expected us to last this long but I’m grateful we have. I’m grateful for every second I get to spend with you. I don’t know where I would be right now if I hadn’t met you, if we hadn’t been partnered. I’m so glad I have you as both the best detective partner I could ask for and a most amazing lover. It warms my soul every time you forget I’m not human, especially when it’s tacked on to an android joke. Those instances make me know you care so deeply for me and love every part of me.

You taught me to take life slowly, to savor what I have. That sentiment has been applied to every part of my life. I savor stakeouts, holding you in my arms, feeding Princess, even doing paperwork and being on the hunt. They are all good to me simply because they are part of my life and because you are there.

I don’t know what life would be like without you. I’m so used to you being with me every step of the way.

Gavin looked up as footsteps approached the room, hoping it was Windlock with news on Nines. The feet passed the room, the person casting a shadow across the frosted glass of the door, and kept on their way.

A video. Nines was sitting on the couch, reading, when Gavin’s voice called from the bedroom. Nines’ HUD measured the level of distress in his voice as high and he went to investigate.

Gavin had torn the bedroom apart, a pile of things on the bed. Nines scanned him, noting the disheveled appearance and lack of caffeine along with his elevated stress signals. “What’s wrong, Gavin?”

Gavin turned to him, tears in his eyes. “I can’t find something I need and today’s been bad enough.”

Nines nodded. Gavin’s unmedicated ADHD could be a lot to deal with after a long day. He stepped forward, pulling Gavin into a hug, his hands rubbing soothing circles along his back. “What do you need me to do?”

Gavin sighed, melting into the contact and stability that came with the hug. “Could you scan the room for my tablet pen?”

“Of course.” Nines moved his head and time froze, going down to grey and white. He located the pen easily enough, it’s black shape standing out starkly. He chuckled and released Gavin to pick it up. “It was right beside your tumbler.”

Gavin took it, wiping the tears from his cheeks. “Sorry for making such a fuss over something so small.”

Nines reached out, his hand cradling Gavin’s cheek and thumbing at his tears. “Nothing is too big nor too small for me to help you. I understand your stress and I know the way you get. I’m perfectly content to help you find something right in front of your nose.” To punctuate the statement, he leaned forward to kiss Gavin’s scar.

Gavin wiped a tear from his eye. “Come back to me soon, tin can.”

Connor looked at him. “Did you say something, Detective?”

Gavin shook his head. “No, nothing.”

The door opened and Windlock came in. “Detective Reed, the surgery is complete.”

Gavin sat forward in his chair, resisting the urge to pace. “How did it go? Is he online yet?”

They shook their head. “Unfortunately, his neural network is still non-functioning. However, the surgery was a success. His chassis is intact and functioning again, every bicomponent in its place. His skin isn’t on as he’s not online to do that. Would you like to see him?”

Gavin stood, gathering his things. “Yes, please.”

Connor stood and approached Windlock. “Is there anything more you can tell us about his status? Have you at least figured out why he isn’t online yet?”

They shrugged. “I’m as in the dark as you are, RK800. Any insight you can spare would be helpful.”

“Okay, I’m ready.” Gavin slung his bag over his shoulder. “Lead us to him, please.”

Nines was almost the same way as how he’d left Gavin three hours ago. His skin was retracted below the neck, letting the white plating show, and he was lying so peacefully that for a moment Gavin almost thought he was just sleeping. Gavin walked over to the chair closest to the bed and sat down hard, leaning forward to take Nines’ hand. “I’m here, toaster. I’m right here.”

Connor placed a hand on his shoulder and Gavin was distantly aware of him asking for Windlock to leave them be. Gavin’s entire focus was on Nines even as he knew there were only a few more files in the folder to get through.

He held onto Nines’ hand with one of his own, letting his partner know that he was there and wasn’t going anywhere, and pulled the tablet from the bag by his feet.

The next file was a series of pictures. It seemed Nines was sentimental in that regard. All the way from first meeting up until just a night ago, they were pictures of Gavin doing various things. It started as just Gavin doing work at his desk, moving to crime scenes and the break room. Photos of him doing mundane tasks and midchase. The time stamps moved past their getting together and the pictures became more domestic. Gavin waking in Nines’ arms, sleeping on the couch, Princess coming home for the first time. He’d documented her entire growth process from stray kitten to spoiled adult.

Gavin smiled at Nines. “You really do have a soft spot for that cat, don’t you? Maybe it’s about time we get her a playmate.”

“I’ll leave you two be for a moment. I need to speak with someone.” Connor slipped out of the room.

Gavin opened the next file, shifting to sit beside Nines on the bed now that Connor was gone.

A video. Gavin was cooking breakfast as Nines fed Princess, their usual routine. Nines came up beside Gavin, kissing him on the cheek. “How’s the bacon coming along?”

“Pretty much done.”

“Good.” Nines turned the burner off and took the spatula from Gavin’s hand. Somewhere, music started to play and Gavin chuckled as Nines pulled him into a dance. It was sweet and short before Gavin was released to finish making his breakfast.

Gavin smiled, recognizing that morning from only a few days before the incident. He gripped Nines hand just a bit tighter as he clicked on the last file.

The last video. Nines was standing on a roof. Gavin was down on the ground, watching out for their suspect. “Hello down there.” He muttered to himself, not loud enough to carry.

He stepped away from the edge, pacing the length of the roof. “Is it weird to think that I’m bored? I’m an android with the internet at my fingertips, I should be able to wait for a few minutes.” He sighed. “I guess that’s the trouble with living and working so closely to you, time is meaningless and a minute is too long for you.” He chuckled. “You’re so used to moving so fast that slowing down is a difficult task for you. That’s okay, though. I like it that way.”

The door to the roof burst open and Nines sprang into action, launching himself into a fight with their suspect. They grappled for a moment, both trying to pin the other and get a better grip. In the end, Nines backed them toward the edge.

“I now know,” he was still muttering. “No matter how much time has passed, no matter how much time will pass, you truly are the love of my life. This is why . . . I’m doing this.” He took a final step backward, diving off the roof and taking their suspect with him.

Gavin sat in shock as the video ended, almost waiting for it to finish or replay or do anything but leave him there with that information and the knowledge of why Nines had been damaged almost to the point of no repair.

He looked to Nines, laying so still on the bed. “Why? Why’d you feel the need to do that?!” He released Nines’ hand to stand. “There could have been some other way! You could have called me! You could have used lethal methods!” He hit Nines’ chest with a fist too weak to do any damage to a human. “You don’t need to sacrifice your-damn-self just because you feel like it!” He knew he was shouting but he didn’t care.

A hand touched his arm and Gavin jolted to look at Nines. His eyes were open and his hand was hovering in the air. “I knew you would catch me.” His voice was weak and full of static but Gavin was so happy to hear him he cried, tears spilling down his cheeks.

Laying down, Gavin threw his arms around Nines. They lay there for what felt like an eternity and an instant, simply holding each other and comforting themselves that the other was alive and safe. Nines ran a hand up Gavin’s back, cupped the back of his neck, then began to softly card through his hair. His free arm curled around Gavin and pulled him close, holding him and feeling him and making sure he was real. Gavin pulled one arm down, curling it by his side and grounding himself by grabbing a fistful of the bedsheets, and let the other rest over Nines’ torso and had the hand sit on the white chassis of Nines’ shoulder.

“Did you look through the folder?” Nines’ voice broke the silence, not filled with as much static as before.

Gavin nodded, turning his head to look at the tablet resting innocently on a nearby table. “I watched, read, and looked at every single file in that folder while wondering if it would ever be added to again.”

Nines pressed a kiss to his neck. “I’m sorry, Gavin. I should have warned you or tried a different path.”

Gavin shrugged and turned back to rest his head on Nines’ shoulder. “I’m just glad you’re safe.” He paused for a moment. “The engineers said they could repair your body but your mind was too damaged for them to do anything with.”

Nines’ head rested against Gavin’s, his hand never slowing in Gavin’s hair. “I know. I heard bits and pieces of it, especially toward the end of the surgery and just now in the room. While they were spending all that time fixing my chassis and biocomponents, I was working on my coding.”

Gavin laughed, his jubilance at Nines being okay bubbling up. “An AI that fixes its own code, would you fucking look at that!”

Nines chuckled. “The irony isn’t lost on me, Detective. However, it’s simply the world we are living in where an android is capable of modifying their own code. Still, it was hard and taxing work to rebuild my own functions line by line. I shall be back to myself in no time at all, I assure you.”

A knock at the door caused them to abandon their conversation. Gavin turned onto his back to better see who came in before calling for them to enter. Connor stuck his head in, eyes lighting up at the sight of Nines. “You’re awake! I’ll go get Windlock, you two stay put!” He shut the door and left them with the sound of his fading footsteps.

Nines let his head fall back against Gavin’s and his hand hold Gavin’s, interlacing their fingers. “Who did he go get?”

Gavin did his best to explain as he sat up, cradling Nines against him. Connor came back with Windlock, who gave Nines a clean bill of health and said he was free to be discharged. Gavin ran home and got him some clothes as Connor dealt with the paperwork.

That night, Nines recorded another instance of Gavin falling asleep and marveled at just how lucky he was.

I don’t currently have a taglist for DBH but you can check out my masterlist before sending an ask to be added!

#gavin reed #adhd!gavin #rk900 nines #reed900 #dbh connor #jeffrey fowler #tina chen #hank anderson #(tina and hank are only mentioned)#mentions of violence #fluff #angst #fluff and angst #established relationship #tw hospital #ace writes

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