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mvltisstuff · 7 months

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how to never stop being sad - e.b

summary: bucks parents believe they can just forget what they put him through as a child, but y/n won’t let them.

evan buckley x reader.

og gif

a/n: i realized that buck found out about daniel way later than i thought… my image was the dinner for buck begins, and then my dumb brain thought he knew abt daniel for a while 😭 just pretend he knew while you read :))

bucks mother and father somehow think that evan doesn’t remember everything they did. they think he doesn’t care about every scream, every argument, every neglectful moment between him and his sister. but, really, buck remembers all of it.

he loves his parents and he always has, but he doesn’t understand why they make it so hard to like them. he craved love and affection from them, only to be met with their hand in his face and their words in his mind. he knows all about grief, it makes you a different person. he feels awful for his parents, but he wishes they could deal with it better than leave him in the dust.

on a brighter side, buck was finally able to stop begging for adoration. when y/n came into that station, his entire purpose was changed around. he knew he was made for loving her, and he was finally accepted. buck finally felt smart, loved, important to someone.

y/n left a mark on buck from the moment they met. he could tell by her bubbly but confident personality that they’d fit together like stars in the sky. whenever y/n was around, he never once felt like he was asking for the compliments or love she showered him with. she looked genuinely proud to call him her boyfriend, and it melted the heart of the little kid inside of him that just wanted someone to tell him that he was important.

she gave him everything his parents never did and she never once complained. y/n have buck a definition of love, and when someone asked him what it meant, he’d say her name.

now, even years after they’ve been dating, y/n never once spoke to bucks parents. maddie had told them he was in a healthy, happy relationship, but they never cared to check in on him. the days had drastically changed, along with the life of his sister.

she’s becoming a mother, so their parents are becoming grandparents. y/n didn’t really think it would be a problem that they came to visit, until it quickly backfired.

buck quickly realized that they weren’t here for him, and they he barely existed in their book. he hoped that maybe he was overthinking it, but noticed the lack of care they had of his life and the severe amount of judgement in their words. it’s like when they walked in the door, buck felt like the small boy standing at the top of the stairs for his parents again, or the teenager sitting at the table taking every insult they had.

their parents pulled out maddie’s “baby box”, but they must’ve left bucks at home to collect dust, if there was even anything to leave. they crazed over maddies belly and the life she was carrying, praising her for the life she had built for herself. buck just sat there, just wanting to go home and lay in y/n’s arms and get his own comforting.

the night of the dinner came rapidly, buck critiquing everything about himself in the mirror before he went, perfecting his words and his appearance before y/n came grabbing his hand. “it’ll be ok.”

“i know, it’s just been so long and i don’t want them to be rude to you, too,” buck sighs, turning to face y/n.

“they don’t hurt me, you know that. i just don’t want you to get upset.”

“let’s get this over with, yeah? and then we can come home?”

“don’t have to tell me twice.”

y/n and buck arrived soon after his parents, seeing them stand from off the couch with his mothers hands clasped together in front of her. maddie pulls y/n into her grasp from not seeing her due to a busy schedule. chimney and buck hug casually, even though they’d just seen each other. he notices his parents standing there, looking at y/n as she cautiously steps over.

“oh, mom, dad, this is y/n,” buck tells them, his hand landing on her waist. “my girlfriend.”

“it’s nice to meet you guys.” y/n says, exchanging awkward glances with his parents. they nod politely.

“y/n, we got your favorite!” maddie grins, holding a bottle of wine in her hands and looking at it long-fully. y/n laughs, walking over to take the bottle from her as they converse.

“maddie, i’ll make the table for you, sweetie.” their mother says, grabbing plates and napkins for everyone as she starts placing them by the seats.

“here, mom, i’ll help you,” buck says, offering a hand to his mother as y/n stands besides his father.

“so, y/n,” the tall man with the glasses speaks. “what do you do for work?” he asks, sipping his beer.

“oh, i work at the fire station with b-evan and howie.” she remembers the little things, the dislike of nicknames and how buck and maddie never had one. y/n can see the slight disappointment in her fathers face, but can’t quite place why.

“i see.” he says, his voice raising slightly but she can tell he’s slightly unimpressed. y/n just keeps pouring wine into her glass. maddie can already sense the tension, silently cursing her dad for the reaction he had.

“dad.” maddie whispers so buck doesn’t hear.

“yes, maddie?” he questions back, not understanding his tone toward the woman besides him that he’s known for twenty minutes.

“nothing, it’s fine.”

“hey, honey,” buck whispers in y/n’s ear, placing his hands on the counter in front of him.

“hi! how are you feeling?”

“i’m fine, it’s only been like a half hour.”

“i know, just checking in.” she places a hand on his cheek, making maddie smile at the affection she has toward buck.

the food had eventually been delivered, and everyone sat around the table to finally eat. buck pulled out y/n’s chair, letting her sit and then taking the one next to her. chimney sat with maddie, and then their parents took the other end of the table.

the conversation turned almost immediately into the subject of work, maddie talking about some of her calls and chimney speaking about paramedic duties. it seemed they had no interest about buck, not finding much impression in the details about his job, despite it being one of the strongest.

“well, speaking of hospitals, i’ve heard that evan has been spending a lot of time in them.” bucks dad speaks up, placing his napkin folded on the table.

“you’ve heard?” buck mutters under his breath, not wanting to cause a scene but secretly hoping they heard it. y/n could feel the burning tension between buck and his parents, so she ran his hand over his thigh, trying to find his hand that rested near his knee before locking fingers with him. “you could’ve seen for yourself.”

“oh, evan you know how-“

“you don’t like hospitals, got that.”

“i don’t like seeing my children in them.” the womans eyes start to water, thinking back to all the horrific times in the hospital. maddie mumbles to her mother before shaking her head, bringing her moms statement to a close. “we never lost hope on you, evan.”

“yeah, like you did on maddie?” he snaps, leaning back in his seat and staring down his parents.

“evan, let’s not do this.” maddie says, the discomfort clear in her face as everyone’s heart races, fearing the conflict in the room.

“you guys didn’t even go to her wedding, let alone go back for her when she made a mistake and you cut her off!”

their parents barely look at buck. “maddie, we didn’t know he was hurting you, i swear-“

“you should have! you should’ve known, but it checks out because you never knew what was going on even when we was living with you!” he stands up.

“buck, c’mon,” y/n speaks, attempting his hand before he gets too far away. he manages to slip out of her grasp, leaving her to rest her head in her hands as he continues.

“you think my job is dangerous- i have walked through fire every single day of my life because of you. that is why i’m in therapy! because nothing i ever did was good enough!”

“we tried! you guys didn’t make it easy on us” their dad speaks up, making y/n shoot her head up at the older couple at the table next to her.

“we were supposed to? we were kids.” maddie says sadly.

so, buck stands there, begging for love in the center of the room, feeling like a circus act. if he didn’t know better, he’d think they’d all be pointing and laughing at him. besides one. y/n sat there, staring at his parents before looking back at him. she stands up, letting buck try and grab her hand and walk out. if he wants to leave, she will always follow him.

he opens the door, and he steps out, unable to hear the next sentence from his mother.

“neither of you think about how hard it is for your father and i! you only think about yourselves!”

y/n stops in her tracks, “buck, go wait by the car i’ll be out in a minute.” he just goes out, not wanting to waste another minute in that room that he could be spending alone with y/n. “only think about themselves?”

“what?” their mother whimpers out.

“you’re insinuating that you have selfish children, and it honestly checks out considered how much you’ve missed. did you forget what your kids do? did you forget about the lives they save on a daily basis? maddie is the reason half of our calls come out successfully, and buck is one of the highest ranked for his position. and you want to call him selfish? you don’t get to call him anything until you take an actual look at his life. you don’t see him walk out of these buildings with scared and hurt children or people yelling in pain and he can somehow manages to give them hope! you don’t see the effect you have on him and it honestly breaks my heart for him. you don’t see how you casually ripped him up and expected other people to put him back together. you don’t deserve to just come back here and act like you’re completely innocent! you sit here and act like you are angels. truth is that evan did everything on his own and didn’t deserve the shit he got from you. the person he is today has nothing to do with you and you don’t get any credit for how he became the man he is.”

y/n doesn’t stay long enough to see the effect of her words on his parents. she can imagine the tears from the confrontation that their mother can’t handle. it infuriates her that they think they can fix the damage they did in a day, if they even think they did any.

she storms down the stairs, eager to see buck outside and make up for all the loving he missed previously. she sees him leaning against y/n’s passenger door, staring at the concrete with his arms crossed. his hair is lightly blowing in the wind along with his sweater being pressed against his body. y/n can see the subtle shimmering in his eyes as he looks at the ground and she can almost hear the cracks in his heart. it’s like they managed to add another wound to him, just confirming that they didn’t care about him.

y/n steps on the cement sidewalk toward him, her heels clicking loudly against the ground so he could hear her coming. he doesn’t look up. he keeps his eyes glued to the ground in almost a shameful way. he hates that he can’t stand up to his parents, and he hates that y/n had to do it for him, but he needed it.

“let’s go home, baby.” y/n says, standing at the front of the car. “buck.” she speaks his name again, anger still radiating off her body as she waits for him to look up at him. his head tilts up, looking at her as her gaze softens at his expression. she doesn’t hesitate to walk over and grab onto him, letting his body fall into her, taking some of the weight off his shoulders.

“i know, it’s ok.” she whispers into his ear sweetly as the tears run down his face. he doesn’t want to be sobbing in the parking lot with in his girlfriends arms, but he can’t help it.

he doesn’t bother to say anything, he just lets himself feel. he lets himself feel her hand rubbing his back and the other wrapped around his shoulders. he lets himself listen to the gentle words escaping her lips and allow them to soothe his mind. he lets himself tower over her and almost fall into her grasp and he lets her take over. he knows that she has him, and the safety net beneath him was built by her.

he might not have his parents support or their faith through his life, but the surplus that y/n gives to him is enough to fill every ocean in the world.

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rodolfoparras · 1 year

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Thinking about all the ways you can be intimate with Price that doesn’t involve having sex

One thing about Price is that he’s known for his love for hats. But very few people know the reason as to why he wears them in the first place.

Truth be told, more often than not, he will let his hair grow past the length that’s stated in haircut regulations. Curls will start forming at the back of his neck , unruly strands will stick to his temple as he sweats and if it’s a particularly windy day, wisps of hair will fall into his eyes and obscure his vision. So to cover up the fact that he’s clearly breaking regulations and to keep his hair in check, he’ll wear a hat on his head.

He always tells himself he’ll cut it short. Hell, he even goes out his way to take down the box of clippers from the shelf where they’ve been collecting dust for God knows how long. But every time he intends to cut it something comes up and he opts for wearing a hat instead.

However this time around, it’s a different story since inspection week is coming up and you’re the first to notice how long his hair has been getting lately.

As you lean in for a kiss, you feel the unruly strands of hair wrap around your fingers tips. You smile as you twirl them in your grasp, lips still kissing Price’s.

He pulls away, mirroring the smile on your face as he says “what are you smiling about?”

“Your hair’s been getting so long lately” you say as you run a hand through his hair, tugging lightly at the long strands as if to empathize your point.

His brows furrow, before a look of realization crosses his face “I guess it has, hasn’t it? I’ve been meaning to cut it, just haven’t gotten around to doing it,”

You nod as you continue to play with the hair at the back of his head, already aware of the box of clippers that’s been collecting dust on his desk “when’s inspection now again?”

“Next week. Cut it for me?”

The bathroom connected to his room is rather small, barely fits two people but you make it work as you sit down on the toilet seat while he sits down on the floor.

He sits so close you get a whiff of his cologne. The scent’s a familiar one, one you know not only by smell but also by name. It’s a cologne you’d spontaneously bought one day and had managed to use once or twice before it somehow ended up in Price’s hands. Now it’s a scent solely associated with him.

You can also smell the cigars he smokes. The scent is sickly sweet but also earthy- reminds you of mahogany much like the mahogany curls he's sporting at the moment.

You gently grab onto his shoulder, forcing him to shuffle closer. He’s now perfectly slotted between your legs, as you go to inspect his hair.

“Any special request ?” You ask as you card your fingers through his hair, carefully inspecting the length. The man lets out an appreciative sound at your gently touch before he shakes his head in response to your question.

“Just want it short?” You ask again, fingers still carding through his hair.

“Yes, please”

“What if I mess up ?” You joke as you continue to inspect the length.

“Don’t really care, I’ll wear a hat either way” he shrugs, and flashes you a smile over his shoulder.

“Alright” you say, before you reach down and gently grab onto the edge of his shirt “May I?” You ask, lips brushing his ear as you lean down to ask for permission.

He shivers at your touch, but nods his head at your question.

You gently pull the shirt off of him, leaving him in just the undershirt that he’s wearing. The sudden exposure to the chilly bathroom air has goosebumps raising on his skin and your hands quickly find his arms as you attempt to warm him up.

“Sorry” you say as you plant a kiss on his shoulder. He just smiles and shakes his head “it’s okay, not your fault yeah?”

You grab onto the box where his clippers lay and take out the one you needed for his hair. You quickly adjust the settings on it before bringing it to his head.

As you turn on the machine you feel the familiar buzz coursing through your fingertips. You try not to let your nerves get the best of you as you get ready to cut his hair for him. However, sweat still trickles down your spine, the clippers almost fall out of your hand and you have to take a deep breath and apologize beforehand in case this doesn’t go as planned.

You do the first swipe with the clipper and watch as strands of hair fall to his bare shoulders. You quickly take the brush that came with the kit and gently brush the hair away from his skin. He hums in content as he relaxes into your embrace

“Good?”

He nods with a giggle “tickles”

You chuckle at that as you continue to cut his hair, tufts of it steadily falling to the floor and sprinkling across his shoulder. You even see the loose strands of hair sprinkling onto the undershirt that he’s wearing. However Price doesn’t seem to mind it, seemingly relaxed as ever.

Nothing can be heard except for the steady buzz coming from the machine, along with the soft noises Price will give in response when you ask him something. He’s long given up on talking, mind and body too relaxed to bother with it.

Your hands are gentle as ever as they grab onto his chin, cheeks and temples, turning his head in whichever direction is needed at the moment. His eyes, although closed, flutter at the touch, as he chuckles at the ticklish feeling that comes from your hands.

However you still check up on him to make sure that you aren’t hurting him.

“Am I hurting you?” You ask as you bring the clipper a bit closer to his ears. “Is this okay” You ask again when you fear you’re holding too tightly onto him. You even drop a “you tell me if I’m doing anything to hurt you yeah?” when you notice the flush on his skin.

Sometimes Price responds with a hum, sometimes with a nod and sometimes with the shake of his head (You almost have the mind to scold him for his careless movements but you allow him to do so anyway)He even chuckles at the last sentence as if saying not you, never you and that’s all the reassurance you need to continue cutting his hair for him.

At some point he does talk - asks if he can go for a smoke and of course you allow him to do so. If you smoke he’ll let you take a couple of puffs of his cigar. However he’ll use this as an excuse to steal a kiss since every time you lean in to put the cigar between your lips, he’ll place a kiss on your lips. If you don’t smoke he’ll have you light his cigar for him. He’ll playfully pulls you closer by your wrist, as you go to light his cigar for him, callused thumb mindlessly stroking it while you light it for him.

He stays in your embrace while smoking his cigar, enjoying your presence and your gentle touch.

From the bathroom window you can see that the sun is starting to set and the clouds of smoke that whirl around in the air become more prominent.

Price hooks his arm around your leg and mindlessly drags his hand along your thigh while he smokes his cigar.

“Thank you for doing this for me, love” he says and despite the clouds of smoke that swirl around in the air, you can still see the grateful smile on his face.

“No need to thank me ” you chuckle as you continue to cut his hair for him.

Once it’s done, you hand him a small mirror so that he can take a look at his hair. He takes a brief look in the mirror before he turns to you with a big smile on his face.

“It looks great,”

Truth be told he barely looked at his hair, didn’t see the crooked line or the uneven patches around his head (not that he would mind if he were to notice it anyway). All he saw in that very moment was your reflection in the mirror, the way you nervously chewed your lip, and the hopeful look in your eyes as you waited for him to comment on his new haircut.

Once it’s inspection day you’re back in that very same bathroom with him. He’s looking at himself in the mirror while you’re standing behind him with a comb in hand. His hair is still short and will surely pass inspection but you still want to comb and style it for him, claiming he needs to look professional and well groomed, seeing as he’s the captain.

“There, all done” you say with a smile on your face, finally feeling satisfied with the look of his hair. All of sudden he turns around, hands gently grabbing onto your hips before he pulls you closer to him. You’re still looking at his hair, searching for any imperfections that need to be corrected while he’s watching you with an adoring gaze. Once you spot a strand out of place, you lick the pad of your thumb before gently slicking it back with the rest of his hair.

You go to pull your hand away but before you can do so he gently wraps his hand around your wrist and brings your hand closer to his lips before he kisses it.

“Thank you again, love”

#captain John price #captain John price x reader #captain John price x male reader #John price #John price x reader #John price x male reader #Alec writes #happy pride month to my absolute favorite way of being close with another man #I apologize for any mistakes #idk man I make this so hard for me by using this writing style #it’s like future and past and present tense all at once I hate it djdjdj #anyway #I hope it’s okay #army shabang is probes not accurate but none of this is real so let’s kiss #my goal here was to showcase how such a simple act can be so intimate I hope i managed to do so #since this is sort of a love language to me #and first fluff on here #wooo #weird to say that since I have always written fluff fics believe it or not

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steddieasitgoes · 1 year

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It’s Mother’s Day 1973 and Steve’s mom isn’t home.

Instead of spending the day with her only son, she’s left to follow her husband on his latest business trip. Steve doesn’t remember where she’s going, just that she promised to bring him back a snow globe for his collection. The one that sits on the highest shelf the bookcase in his room — collecting dust.

He’s been pawned off to his nanny again. Poor Ms. Anderson who has put her own middle-aged life on hold to raise a kid whose not hers. Steve’s not stupid. He knows his parents pay her well to take care of him, but he still wishes she’d tell them off. At least, put up a fight, so she didn’t have to spend all her weekends with him.

Usually the duo stay cooped up in the Harrington’s House. Ms. Anderson will cook him a nice meal and they’ll spend the afternoon playing games or watching movies. She’ll fall asleep early in the movie and Steve will disappear to play with his toys or snoop through his parents things to try to figure out where they’ve gone this time.

Today’s different though.

It’s Mother’s Day, after all.

Today, Ms. Anderson has taken him to Roane Hill Cemetery. She lets him hold a massive bouquet of pink carnations as she gathers a picnic blanket and basket from the back of her car.

“What are we doing here?” Steve asks, struggling to keep pace with Ms. Andersons determined steps.

“Visiting my mom.”

“But isn’t she…” Steve doesn’t finish the sentence.

“Yeah,” she says, spreading out the blanket next to a small gravestone. “But just because someone’s gone doesn’t mean they’re out of our lives. Coming here makes me feel connected to her.”

Steve doesn’t understand that.

How can Ms. Anderson feel connected to her dead mom if she can’t even look at her? He doesn’t even feel connected to his own mom when she’s in the same room as him.

Maybe it’s a girl thing, he thinks.

Steve sits down quietly, after that. Ms. Anderson clearly needs this visit and Steve’s not going to interfere with her plans. Not when said plans get him out of the house for the first time in a week. So he sits and listens to Ms. Anderson talk to the headstone. Watches as she digs out a small flower pot in the ground to place the flowers in.

It’s only when she ducks her head in a prayer that Steve decides to explore.

“Don’t go too far,” she warns. “And be mindful of others!”

The cemetery is full of older people. Some sit on blankets like Ms. Anderson with gorgeous flowers and picnic baskets full of food, ready to spend hours with their departed mothers. Others, stay for a few minutes. Set down flowers and tap headstones before ducking their heads while retreating to their cars.

There’s laughter and tears and Steve doesn’t know how to feel about all of it, except lonely.

He wishes there was someone his age around here.

Steve ventures deeper into the cemetery, where the trees are taller and fuller. Older, Steve thinks. It’s through a small clearing that he spots a boy about his age sitting in front of a headstone. An older man stands behind him, a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

He’s too far away to know for sure, but he’s pretty sure the boy is talking to the headstone. Head tilted forward, shoulders hiccuping up and down like the boy is crying. Steve wonders who he could be visiting. Certainly not his mom, right? He’s much too young to not have a mom — Steve should know.

He watches as the little boy leans forward and kisses the headstone and Steve realizes it must be.

Steve must make a sound, a gasp or a small cry because the boy and the older man’s head whip around in his direction. He’s still too far away to hear, but he can tell the man is telling the boy something. Whispering in his ear before nodding his head in Steve’s direction.

He should leave. Ms. Anderson is probably done with her prayer now and she’ll be worried if he’s not back soon, but he can’t leave. Not when he spots the little boy trudging through the tall grass towards him.

“Are you lost?” the boy asks.

Steve shakes his head.

“What are you doing all the way out here then?”

Steve shrugs. “Was that… were you talking to your mom?”

“Yeah,” Eddie nods, looking over his shoulder. “Uncle Wayne says it’s good to come talk to her ‘cause she gets lonely too. Are you here for your mom?”

“Oh no,” Steve says. “My mom is, well she’s not here but—”

“Do you want to help me?” Eddie asks, before Steve can finish it. “Wayne wants me to go find a yellow flower in the field over there. It’s so big I could use some help.”

“Sure!” Steve says, happy to finally have someone his age to talk to. “But why yellow?”

“It’s my mom’s favorite color!” Eddie smiles. “She said, she always felt like the sun was touching her when she wore it. It was her happy color.”

Years later, when Steve and Eddie have reconnected and they’re going through Steve’s closet to find items to donate, Eddie will ask Steve why he has so many yellow sweaters.

“It makes me feel like the sun, warm and happy,” Steve says, smiling softly. “I used to wrap myself in yellow whenever my parents left me home alone.”

And it’s then and only then do the two of them realize they met long before they crossed paths in the halls of Hawkins High and even longer before portals to hell-like dimensions open.

#this is dumb but the idea kept nagging me #steddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington ficlet #eddie munson ficlet #stranger things ficlet #cw parental death #cw death #dani writes

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cultofdixon · 1 year

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Just You

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • He knew the prison would be temporary. He shouldn’t have put bad vibes out into the universe then he wouldn’t have almost lost you. But he was thankful he had you with him…even if there was a whole new threat • ANGST/SFW/NSFW - unprotected sex [no glove, no love] / grinding / cum eating • TW: Canon Violence / Injuries / Anxiety / Scars

Requested by: @kaylakern4

Where is she

Where the fuck is she?!

Daryl snapped out of his anxious thoughts feeling the familiar soft hands grab onto his bicep. He turned to find Y/N staring up at him as his attention focused on her forehead bleeding and how she looks like she’s been through hell. But then he remembered—-

“We gotta get out of here”

“Haven’t you heard me?! I’ve been saying that for a few minutes! We gotta go!” Y/N pulled at his arm as the two ran out of the ruins of the prison.

Please look at me.

Bring it up. Please—

“I think my head is still bleeding…but I…there was no time to grab shit and book it. I just grabbed what I needed most” Y/N frowns on the other side of their little campsite as Daryl took that as the opportunity to get up from his spot pulling his rag out from his back pocket.

Daryl sat beside her dragging the pack they managed to scavenge taking the canteen out. He pours some of the water on his rag before giving her a look asking for permission, waiting for her to eventually nod not knowing exactly what he was doing. Then he lightly dabs her head lac cleaning the blood off her face. Her beautiful face. Checking to see if it had gotten worse with all the running they’ve been doing but thankful it was just a cut. A scary cut that bled that much.

“Thank you Daryl…”

“‘Course” Daryl put everything away and before he could get up from his spot, Y/N tiredly rests her head on his shoulder.

“Why does this keep happening to us…”

“Makes yea wish there was somethin’ more permanent I guess”

Y/N brought herself close to take in his warmth that he was more than happy to provide even if he was terrified to wrap his arm around her.

What’s wrong

Y/N.

“D, you see that?” Y/N gestures to what looks to be an abandoned country club. Daryl followed her lead to the place as he wanted to be first to enter in case of anything but Y/N took out her knife and went ahead.

Daryl followed close while wishing she’d look at him and tell him what’s on her mind. Since leaving the prison, the light she carried faded and it was eating him alive.

“Think anything here is worth the trouble?”

“The first aid kit on the wall is.” Daryl pushes past Y/N as she looked through the clothes that were scattered everywhere in the room they were in. “We can patch up your head”

“Sounds good…” Y/N picked up a green sweater more so green earthy and not neon. She took the opportunity of Daryl’s back facing her so that she could change her shirt into the sweater.

The archer turned toward her at the wrong moment and quickly swung back feeling the heat rise to his face after catching a glimpse. Y/N adjusts the sweater brushing off a bit of the dust that collected on it before noticing his tense figure.

“You can look now” She says almost in a whisper as Daryl kept his gaze to the floor up until he was within arms length of her. Y/N took out of the presented first aid box what she’ll need before letting him put it away. “Think we can squat in here for the night?”

“Yeah just. Let me help yea and then we can barricade the door just in case”

After taking care of such, Y/N got a fire going in the middle of the main dining hall. As she tosses more newspaper onto the fire to build, she felt a blanket rest on her shoulders. Y/N didn’t say a word right off the bat knowing Daryl did such as he makes his way to sit on the opposite side of her. Which sparked something in her to say—

“We can share”

Daryl quickly looks up from fiddling with his knife when she said that as the silence made Y/N’s confidence lower thinking she crossed something. But the archer picked himself up and sat beside her feeling half the blanket drape over his shoulder making both scoot closer to the other.

Wrong time

Not the right place

But when will it ever be

“Daryl…”

“Hm?”

“I’m scared” Y/N frowns feeling Daryl’s arm wrap around her to bring her in his embrace. He held her, let her get comfortable in his space…resting her head in his shoulder and bringing her legs over his lap.

“Me too, sunshine…me too”

When morning broke, Daryl always woke first and knew he was holding Y/N as they are both awake most the night. But he didn’t expect her to be asleep on his chest the next morning. He didn’t move or say a word…he was enjoying this moment. Until they were both spooked by the sound of a walker hitting the barricaded door. Y/N lifts herself up and off of him but still had a hold on his vest when Daryl sat up.

“They can’t get it. We’ll be okay”

“I know…” Y/N realizes she was holding onto his clothing and let go before standing up. “Think we should move?”

“Just take it out, hold up here a few more days…” Daryl suggests watching her nod in response as she leaves to take care of said walker causing a ruckus.

The two explored more of the club finding pretty much nothing of use besides some cans of food…mainly fruit cocktail…empty liquor bottles, a lot of money that Daryl started to collected but both came to the conclusion that it’s worthless in the apocalypse, and finding empty rooms or full ones with the deceased.

Another night came in and Y/N took the lantern she found in the outdoor shed they checked to one of the empty rooms with a few couches. She set it on the window turning it on to illuminate part of the room as Daryl rests the blanket they shared on the couch he assumed she would take.

“You’re the one with no sleeves…you need it more than me”

“Nah, I’ll be fine” He sighs upon impact of sitting on the dirty couch across from Y/N’s. “Could be worse”

“True…it could” Y/N shut the door and pushed an end table in front of it just in case. Daryl should’ve done that so she could’ve adjusted before him.

Talk to her

About anything

Try to at least

“D”

Daryl snapped out of his thoughts to find Y/N sitting with him on his couch. “Yeah?”

“Do you think we’ll find any of the others?”

Be optimistic or be honest

Which will she feel better hearing

“Daryl…be honest with me”

Shit. Daryl shrugs. “I don’t know. We’ll head out tomorrow…maybe follow the tracks to find’em”

“You think we’ve lost some of them?”

“Honest?”

“Please”

“Probably…” He frowns, relaxing once more when Y/N brought her head to rest on his shoulder. “But hopefully we didn’t…just. Feel bad for losing who we did before we separated”

“Hershel…”

“Mhm…” Daryl continued to carry that frown, even when the beating of his heart grew faster the second Y/N brought herself close resting her hands on his face.

“You know it wasn’t your fault right? None of us could’ve seen that happening”

“Why do yea always know what to say…when I don’t know everythin’ on that beautiful mind of yours?” His confidence spoke through on that last bit but more his honesty. Daryl knows best what it’s like to keep everything inside and not share until he was at his breaking point. But it took her…spending time with her at the CDC…to the farm…and the prison…being able to trust someone he cares for so deeply, that he would hate for the one he loves to not trust him enough to speak up.

But it was more so the words were stuck in the back of her throat as Y/N suddenly felt the tears roll off her cheeks. Causing Daryl to feel a bit of regret when asking that question but he instinctively took her hands into his, squeezing them.

“Y/N…I-I didn’t—-“

“When the prison first got shot at…I was afraid I had lost you right then and there…but when I saw you looking around in the courtyard searching for something, I couldn’t have been happier to know you were alive. I just…couldn’t find the words earlier” Y/N sobs feeling him rub circles with his thumb on the top of her hands bringing her tearful eyes to look. “I can’t sit here without you knowing that—-“

“I know” Daryl interrupts, catching her confused expression that made his face heat up realizing what he was trying to say. “I know how yea feel…cuz I’m the same way…toward yea”

The archer thought his words stunned her but given the way she leaned toward him, he knew to close the space…pressing his lips softly against hers. The first kiss lasted a second, but he didn’t hesitate to go in for another that slowly turned into a more heated moment. Y/N snaked her arms around his neck bringing him close as he gripped onto her thighs.

They parted to catch a breath as Daryl continued to hold her thighs feeling her shift in his touch. He pulls away for a moment only for Y/N to anchor her hands on his broad shoulders bringing her into his lap. Feeling his hands return to her thighs bringing them to her ass pulling her more into him.

“I don’t want to wait anymore, Daryl”

“Take what you want from me, sunshine”

“I just want you” Y/N returned her lips to his feeling his hands bring themselves to the small of her back under her sweater to feel her soft skin. She pulls back once more watching Daryl lean forward to capture her lips once more before pulling her sweater off of her, locking eyes with her waiting for permission. “I’ve always wanted you…so please, have me too”

“Just you. I only ever wanted you” Daryl assures her, bringing his lips back onto hers moving their position to have her laying on the couch and him towering her with her legs wrapping around his torso to keep him there.

The archer couldn’t help himself when bucking his hips in her center to get a small gasp to escape her when they parted. He trailed his lips to her jawline, down her neck leaving a few hickeys that brought out more of her sweet music. Y/N couldn’t help herself but grind up against him to get some friction to fill the need as Daryl couldn’t help but pin her hips to the couch resulting in a whine to escape her lips.

“Daryl…please”

“Please what, sunshine?”

“Please fuck me” Y/N begs not wanting him to pull away but he did such to unbuckle his belt as she followed suit by pulling herself up to get her jeans and panties off that once Daryl got himself out of the confines of his pants, he grabbed the ends of her jeans pulling them off.

Daryl tosses her jeans onto the pile with his pants and her shirt. Next with his boxers and her panties. He pulled her back toward him by her legs hearing her squeak to the action before gluing her attention to the size of his cock when he positioned such to gather some of her slick.

“Fuck…all of this for me?”

“Only you. Always you” Y/N moans, bucking her hips every touch of her sensitive bud from his tip.

His woman…fuck, his woman watches as he positioned himself at her entrance glancing up for any signs of discomfort when he started to push himself in. Fucking tight Daryl grunts leaning forward over her bottoming out in her staying still until she adjusted as she brought her arms around his torso.

“Please move…fuck me, D. Mark me as yours”

“Mmm. You know I will” He growls started to buck his hips thrusting nice and slow at first.

Y/N held onto him feeling him hit that sweet spot instantly making it impossible to keep quiet. She gripped onto the back of his vest when he started to pick up he pace while also bringing his dominant hand to rub circles on her clit. He felt the way she clenched around him that she was getting closer and didn’t tell her not to or anything like that. He wanted to feel all of her for their first time.

“Fuck. Daryl I—“

“Let go sunshine, I’ve gotcha” He grunts hiding his face in the crook of her neck feeling the tugging of his shirt given her reaching climax along with the moan to rip out of her.

Daryl was careful when reaching his own feeling her legs wrap around his torso for him to hit that sweet spot with his thrusts. The second he felt he was close to release, he pulled out and came on her stomach. He hovered above her panting with her as she releases her death grip on his vest bringing her fingers to her stomach taking some of his cum and bringing it to her mouth. She locked eyes with him while tasting his release resulting in a satisfied hum from her and a groan from him.

“You tryin’ to rile me up?”

“Mhm…”

After cleaning up and getting re-dressed, Daryl got up for a second to grab the blanket from the opposite couch bringing it over to theirs. Y/N, the second the archer sat down, brought herself to lay on him making him move her for a second to bring his legs onto the couch. She pulled herself up more so that she could rest her head in his chest feeling the blanket drape over her and Daryl wrap his arms around her.

“You should get some sleep”

“It’s barricaded. You can sleep too D” Y/N looks up at him smiling when he kissed her forehead.

“Fine, sunshine. Then we can look for the others in the morning”

That was the plan and they started by following the tracks in hope for any sign. Daryl was already protective of Y/N and vise versa…now it was a bit more intense when they know how the other felt.

Daryl suddenly brought Y/N close when he heard something. That something being footsteps that only grew from one pair to six as this unknown group made themselves known and surrounded the two. Causing the archer to ready his crossbow and his partner to reach for her gun.

“Now now. You two look lost”

Silence

“Hm. Well…we ain’t here to make trouble of any kind” the one that was obviously their leader didn’t take long to make himself known. “Just wondering somethin’”

“We ain’t gonna make trouble. Just leave us be” Daryl states covering Y/N as she suddenly jerks forward when a hand smacked her behind.

“Damn got a nice piece of meat with yea. Mind if I—-“ Suddenly the man that spoke met the other end of Daryl’s bolt as he didn’t hesitate to take him out for touching Y/N. That didn’t sit well with the group as the others suddenly raised their weapons pointing to the archer.

But the leader told the group to lower their weapons and back away as he draws closer.

“Gentlemen…we know what’s ours and what isn’t. Len here clearly couldn’t tell by the marks she’s got that she’s been claimed. Don’t poke the bear alright?” He laughs shortly after saying such. “Names Joe…and we’re looking for somebody and given by the looks yall carried before we jumped yea, that you were also looking for some people”

“What do you want” Y/N frowns feeling Daryl suddenly take her hand squeezing in but also directing her out of the stranger’s line of sight.

“You help us find our guy, we help yea find yours. We’ll protect each other as long as you follow our rules”

“Which are what?”

“Whenever somebody sees something they like and yells “claimed” it’s theirs. Be lucky we didn’t let Len take your woman by those standard form of rules…now do we gotta deal or what”

They didn’t want to at first. But it would be a bit easier finding the others in larger groups. More people to cover bigger areas.

But being the only woman full of men brought on a lot of staring, even if your heart already belongs to someone and in their terms you already belong to someone.

“I don’t have a good feel about this D…” Y/N whispers bringing herself as close as possible to Daryl as he noticed the two Harley and Billy were looking at her until he locked eyes with them.

“I don’t either…but I’ll keep yea safe, and the second there’s a window. We’re booking it” Daryl whispers to Y/N resting his forehead against hers.

But that window was finding Rick, Michonne, and Carl on the road…and little did they know that Rick was the one that killed one of their own.

“Joe. Don’t do this. These are good people” Daryl made himself present to the situation as Y/N was trying to figure out a plan that didn’t hurt anybody. But that was never going to happen.

“See…now that’s where you’re a liar” and that triggered another Claimer to suddenly grab Daryl forcing him against the car and starting to beat up on him.

Rick was about to say something when suddenly Y/N came out from the tree line about to grab onto the claimer when another, Harley, grabbed her and forced her to the ground pinning her. That action on top of another claimer Dan, pulling Carl out of the car preparing to do the worse. Triggered Rick to do the unthinkable by killing Joe by ripping out his jugular with his teeth stunning the remaining claimers to give the window they needed. Michonne killed Tony without a second thought and made a beeline for Carl shoving Dan off of him. While Daryl got a hold of the claimer’s neck and snapping it before taking his machete and striking the one lunging for him. Then suddenly stabbing right through the head of the one that was strangling Y/N.

As Y/N shoves the body off of her coughing like crazy, Daryl dropped to his knees tossing the machete out of his hands to hold her face getting her to focus on him and focus on her breathing.

“I’ve gotcha. You’re okay. Just take a deep breath” He said repeatedly until she did as she tries to pull herself up to hold him but he got the idea and instantly brought her into his arms gripping onto her for dear life. “I’ve gotcha sunshine…we’re okay”

“We’re okay” She repeats through tears holding him and looking back to see Rick holding onto his son. Y/N sighs from relief that they didn’t lose any of their own.

The morning came a few hours later with Michonne resting in the car with Carl sleeping on her. Rick took a breather with Daryl sitting beside him and Y/N keeping a look out.

“We didn’t…we didn’t trust’em. And were gonna leave but thank god we didn’t.”

“You came at the right time. Granted. You didn’t need to get beaten in the process. Scared the fuck outta Y/N…didn’t know y’all were close like that”

Daryl looks over in a protective manner seeing Y/N is perfectly fine in that moment as he turns back to his brother.

“Takes time to find your person”

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction

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write-and-wander · 5 months

Text

Touch: Chapter 7

Pairing: Kylo Ren x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, angst, and a new version of the sequels

Word count: 7.6K

Author’s note: Everything comes down to this- the final chapter :)

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6)

Chapter 7: Journey's End

He’s searching for someone. Who? He’s not quite sure anymore. A Kenobi not yet brought to the dark side, now running loose, should be his enemy. Another target to hunt down before the resistance gains another leg up. A companion gifted to him by the force, however- someone who needs him just as much as he needs her- that’s something entirely different altogether. If he is meant to rule the galaxy with her by his side, then he now has no way of protecting her. What if they find her first? What if she strays from her purpose- from our purpose?

He knows that if you were to turn against him, you could very well be his downfall. What if I don’t have the strength to stop her?

He paces the room, his mind racing through multitudes of possibilities and their solutions. The tablet still sits open on the table, the red indicator for the missing ship’s tracker still lying to him. You are gone. And he has no way of finding you. Unless…

The force has brought us together before, he thinks, focusing on you; on the shift in the atmosphere- in the force itself- when you were present. He calls out to the force.

And it answers him.

As if rounding a corner, you walk in, your name immediately tumbling from his lips.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

You’re walking- almost jogging- through the resistance base, discerning faces and scanning over heads in the search for Poe. Come on, come on, where is he? You pull a couple of different people aside, asking them if they’ve seen Dameron, only to be met with shrugs and wild guesses. You start to make your way out of the main rooms and begin to weave through hallways, praying to the force that you don’t get yourself lost in the maze of the bustling base. You come to a fork and stop for a moment before you feel the force pulling you to the left. Rounding the corner, you stop dead in your tracks at the sound of your name and the sight of your abandoned Commander.

“Where are you?” He asks right away, his voice gentle.

Why would the force do this now, of all times? “I need to go,” you say curtly. You try to move past him, but he steps over, blocking your way.

“You were so close,” he says low, his brown eyes boring into yours.

You pause and take a breath to speak, but you can’t seem to find anything to say.

“Please, come back to me,” he pleads, his voice breaking, “I feel so lost.”

You shake your head, taking a step back. He closes the gap, his face just inches from yours.

“Come home,” he whispers, bringing his arms up to your sides. He lowers his eyes to level with yours and moves to grab your shoulders.

Just before his hands touch you, the man right in front of your face snaps to Poe Dameron, whose hands are now holding your shoulders.

“Hey, you!” he greets with a smile.

You jump, breathing hard.

“Woah, woah, hey-” his voice drops as he immediately switches gears, “you okay, Kenobi?”

Relaxing into his grasp, you let his strong arms keep you steady as you collect yourself.

“Yeah, yeah-”

“Deep breaths,” he interjects.

You nod, swallowing hard. “I need you to come with me to Coruscant.”

“Just me?”

You nod again.

“Why?”

“I have something you need.” You watch excitement grow in his face as he nods, taking your hand.

“Well, then, what are we waiting for?”

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

You land on Coruscant shortly before Poe does, as he had followed you closely on the trip over. You land further off than you normally would, attempting to divert attention to from your house.

When you walk in, you realize that this time, the house feels stale. There’s a noticeable layer of dust on the surface- this place hasn’t been so well kept. Did Vilya just… stop taking care of this place?

Poe lands even further yet, and waits a while to follow you into your home.

“So,” he starts, looking around at your home. “this yours, or?”

“Yeah,” you answer quick, focused on what you came for. You head straight into your parent’s bedroom and withdraw the wayfinder from its hiding spot for the last time.

Poe is looking around when you return. You hold it out towards him. His eyes widen.

“Here.”

“How the hell did you manage to get this from them?” He asks with a grin, taking it from your hands to inspect it.

“I didn’t.”

He freezes, looking up at you. “Then how do you have it?” Though his words form a question, his sudden shift to a cold tone frames it more like a statement.

“It’s a long story, Poe.”

“Oh, we’ve got time,” he retorts. He pockets the wayfinder.

Staring back at him, your expression shifts from nervous to hurt. Does he not trust me? I guess I didn’t think about how I would explain this to him. How do I even begin to explain everything?

“You’re lucky I trust you,” he adds, pulling up a chair to sit and motioning for you to follow suit, “or you wouldn’t still be standing. Now talk.”

You nod, sitting down in front of him. You know you can’t blame him for his reaction- any person with half a brain would respond in kind. You’ve never seen Poe this guarded before though- especially with you- and it’s unsettling, to say the least. Shaking off your discomfort, you collect yourself.

“Remember how my parents left me a few gifts after they disappeared?”

He nods.

“That was one of them. But it was different then. The light in there was green. It felt different when I carried it.”

“Different how?”

“It wasn’t anything... dark; just the opposite, actually- it was light. And it promised hope. And I used it to find Luke.”

“Skywalker?”

You nod. “Turns out, he changed it so my dad could find him down the line- but when my dad disappeared, he changed it so I could use it.”

“That’s a real convoluted way of leaving an emergency contact,” he quips, relieving some of the tension in the room.

“Wasn’t my idea,” you defend, putting your hands up.

“Fair point…” he affirms with a soft smile. “So why’d it change?”

“Well, Luke smashed it the second I showed it to him.”

Poe laughs, “right.”

You can’t tell if he was being sarcastic, but you’d rather not try to clarify. Instead, you continue. “But I wanted it back. It was still something my parents gave me, and I thought maybe it was worth a shot.”

“So, what, you built a new one?”

“No, no, I, uh…” You pause, realizing this is going to sound ridiculous. “I reached out to the force, and it… fixed it.”

Poe stares blankly.

Desperate to move things along so as to not waste anymore time, you give up on trying to explain it. “It would make more sense if I could show you.”

“Sure,” he says hesitantly, clearly not buying your story, but not in complete disbelief either.

“May I?” you ask softly, lifting your hand to his temple.

He shoots you a confused look, but when your expression remains completely serious, he finally nods.

You place your hand on the side of his head and call out to the force. Please. Let me show him. Show him what you showed me... Show him the wayfinder.

Your memories flash through the front of your mind- holding the wayfinder, hiding it, using it to find Luke, watching it shatter, reaching into the dark side to retrieve it, seeing Exegol, hiding it from Poe, hearing of it on the resistance base, and handing it to Poe. You drop your hand in your lap, watching Poe’s expression shift from confusion to resolution.

“I’ll be damned,” he murmurs. “You’re a special one, Kenobi.” He stands.

“So you’ll get it to Rey?”

“I will.”

“Do you think General Organa will be okay with it?”

“I think she’ll be relieved to know it’s almost over.”

You nod, taking a deep breath in relief. It’s almost over, you repeat to yourself.

“What’ll you do?”

You stand. “You’ll need time to get everyone ready and get over to Exegol, right?”

He nods.

“I’m gonna buy you some time.”

His face falls as he mutters your name in disbelief, his head tilting slightly to one side.

“I’ll make sure the Order isn’t on your backs. And if they are, like I said: I’ll buy you some time. I’m kind of a big deal over there,” you joke half-heartedly.

He shakes his head. “Are you sure?” he asks, concern saturating his tone. He knows better than to try to stop you- not because you couldn’t be convinced otherwise, but because he knows damn well he’d try to pull the same card if he were in your shoes. That was something the two of you undeniably had in common- the guts it takes to come up with big plans, and the iron will to try no matter how risky.

“I’m sure,” you answer with a deep breath, “it’s the least I can do.”

He nods, reaching out to shake your hand. You oblige, before he immediately pulls you into a proper hug. “Just come back to us, okay?” he whispers.

“Only if you promise to come back too.” You pull away just enough to look him in the eyes.

Poe lets out a breathy laugh. “You’ve got a deal.”

With one final squeeze, you both let go.

Poe heads straight to his ship and you watch him take off.

You’re about to jump into your own ship when you pause for a moment. Though you made a promise, you both knew it wasn’t one you were certain you could keep. You decide that, just in case you don’t make it back to your new home- to your family- you want to get one last look at the place you grew up in. Just a few minutes can’t hurt.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

He’s tearing through space in his TIE Whisper, combing through the galaxy using the force- though it isn’t helping as much as he had hoped. He feels like he’s holding his hands straight out in front of him, reaching into darkness, feeling around blind, hoping that eventually his fingers will graze your shoulder just long enough for him to understand how he can reach you. She’s close. I can feel it.

He glances at the navigator and sees a familiar planet marked on the map. He looks up, almost as if to confirm that this map isn’t lying to him too. Coruscant is right there. He thinks back to the tablet- to the tracker installed in his ship that you managed to remove. He’s hesitant. Would she really have come here? Where I could so easily find her? Is she leading me away from something else? He debates diverting his path, feeling stuck between going after his latest lead and going after you. If she is my way forward, he reasons, then I can have both.

Arriving at Coruscant, he sees a ship parked away from your home and lands next to it. It felt odd to be back at this place- it’s been a while since he last visited.

With your first trip home, he used the tracker in your ship to pinpoint where your house was. In between your visits home, he would stop by to search through your house, ensuring his own security. Unfortunately, on one such visit, he ran into a woman dressed as a stormtrooper stocking up some food in your cupboards, her face red and stained with tears. Even worse, he recognized her; she tried to replace him years ago. He knew it would only be a matter of time before she turned you away from him, used you against him, or managed to do both. He was quick to dispose of her.

He leaves his helmet in his ship and walks up to the doorway, in which the door was wide open. For a moment, he worries that this is a trap, but the thought vanishes the moment he sees you. You’re alone, humming to yourself as you stand in the center of the main area, looking around the space. Again, he speaks your name into the silence.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

You jump at the sound of a familiar voice calling to you, whipping around to see Kylo standing in the door.

“I was worried I’d never find you again,” he professes breathily as he rushes towards you, raising his arms to embrace you.

You step back, uncertain of what to say.

He stops while his brows stitch together upward in a pained expression of confusion, arms slowly returning to his sides.

“I don’t need you anymore,” you assert, finally finding your words. “I found someone to restore my memory. I just wanna be home now.”

“But you promised…” he trails off.

Your heart breaks as you watch his face. He looks exhausted. Desperate. Lost. You think of the resistance and the friends counting on you as they prepare for their hardest fight yet. You think of what Luke had said to you when you first met: ‘You can guide him back.’

“I can’t do this without you,” he adds, his voice hovering just above a whisper.

Taking a deep breath, you nod. “Okay… But I won’t go back to the Finalizer-”

“You won’t have to,” he interjects, “I know where to go. Just come with me. Please.” He offers his hand to you.

You take it, your motions stuttering for a moment as a wave of déjà vu hits you- you’ve seen this before too. Maybe this is how the force reassures me that this is the right way, you wonder, by reminding me of those visions.

As your hands join, you both pause to take in the moment before moving on. Kylo leads you out of your house and onto his personal ship. He plugs in a new set of coordinates and takes off.

You’re both silent on the way over. Kylo is focused on piloting the ship, eager to get wherever it is you’re going as fast as possible. Meanwhile, you’re thinking about everything that suddenly seems to be happening at once, worried that you’re bound to let someone down. Before you can worry about it any longer, you seem to arrive at the destination as Kylo lands his ship.

He steps out and offers his hand to help you step down onto the slippery surface of the wreckage, surrounded by raging sea. The roaring waves seem to you like a physical manifestation of the dark chaos that surrounds this place. In your mental periphery, whispers tease as your thoughts. You brush them off, focusing on your footsteps. One step at a time. Keep moving forward.

Kylo guides you through the wreckage of the destroyed spacecraft, eventually making it to the room in which the wayfinder was kept. Your heart stops as you watch him pick up a pyramid made of stone and green glass. There’s another one? As he picks up the guiding device, admiring it, your heart continues to sink as you realize: not only is our deal over, but now the resistance is in danger.

He turns to you.

“Is that the wayfinder?” you ask, hoping he’ll buy into your clueless act. Think, you plead with yourself.

He nods.

“So… what did you need me for?”

“We can move forward now- together,” he begins, closing the gap between the two of you.

You pause for a moment, trying to think of something to say, desperate for a course of action. I can’t convince him to stop. But I can’t let him have that wayfinder. Suddenly, it dawns on you.

You hold your hand out in front of you. “Can I hold it?” you ask, softening your tone as best as you can.

“You won’t be able to use it. You don’t even understand-”

“I know, but… The Force gives me visions. Sometimes it shows me the past, sometimes it guides me towards the future.” You place a hand on his shoulder. “I want to understand,” you whisper.

He nods, gently placing the object in your hands.

You take a couple of steps back as you stare down at it. Visions of Exegol flood your mind again- but this time, darkness grows as lightning erupts from below the surface up into the sky above. Your eyes widen. No, focus, you reprimand yourself. You look up at Kylo. Without another word, you think of Luke and smile.

“What do you see?” He asks as his face begins to light up.

With as much strength as you can muster, you catapult the wayfinder through the massive broken window on your left.

Kylo’s gaze follows the object as it flies into the violent waves outside. In an instant, curious eyes flip to rage. He draws his saber.

Without a moment of hesitation, you draw both of your own sabers.

“First, I killed your father,” he growls, his volume rising as he walks around you in a circle, “then, I killed your friend-”

Vilya, you realize in horror, no!

“Don’t make me kill you too,” he yells, his threat echoing against the metallic walls surrounding you.

With a yell, you charge at him, lifting both sabers and bringing them down towards his head.

A clash rings out as his saber crashes into your own, blocking your attack. Kylo pushes up and to the right, forcing your blades off of his own and bringing them downward.

As he attempts to swipe at your legs, you jump and twist around to swing towards his arm.

He spins out of your blade’s path as you land and jumps off the mass of shrapnel behind him, pushing his blade straight down towards your shoulder.

You roll out of the way and jump up as Kylo swings at you again, meeting his blade with one of yours. You aim your other saber at his side, but he swings down to catch it with is.

With an angry yell he begins to swing wildly, moving towards you. You start to walk backwards to maintain distance, catching his blade with one of yours at the end of every swing.

Making your way out of the room, you manage to find an opening and graze his side as you spin your saber around his arm.

He retracts for just a moment- just long enough for you to turn and run.

He chases you outside of the decaying construct, catching the back of your thigh with the tip of his saber.

With a cry, you reflexively spin around with your blades pointed towards him. Your foot nearly slips on the soaked metal you stand on, but you manage to catch yourself and use it to slide over to dodge another attack.

Kylo continues to push you backward as he swings at you with increasing speed and ferocity, his anger guiding his every move. He lifts his saber over his head and forces it downward, meeting both of your sabers crossed over one another in a screaming clash.

You struggle to keep the red saber away as he pushes down, forcing you onto your knees.

“After everything I did for you,” he spats through gritted teeth, “you destroyed our future.”

Just as your arms are about to give out, the pressure suddenly lifts and Kylo stares out blankly.

He hears his mother’s voice calling out to him. ‘Ben,’ she whispers.

In an instant, you realize this is your only chance to get out alive. I promised. You spin back up to your feet and bring your blade down on Kylo’s thigh.

He feels that she’s fading, and a searing pain in his leg tears him away from her, and then she’s gone. He drops to his knees with a cry.

Before he can retaliate at all, you’re sprinting towards his ship. He stands to chase after you, but as he turns, he sees his father, Han Solo, standing in the way. Another wave crashes over him. The water comes down, and with it, Han Solo is gone.

And you are flying away.

I can still buy them time.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

When Kylo finally gets back to the Finalizer, you are the only thing on his mind. Finding you has never been more crucial to his life’s work.

However, the moment he arrives, he’s called to the throne room. His search will have to wait- just for a while. Soon.

Walking in, he kneels before Snoke, who briefly delivers the news.

Time suddenly moves differently as the words ring in his mind. ‘She’s been sent for execution. She is useless to us now- and only a distraction to you. A weakness to be eliminated.’

Unbridled fury blinds him and commands his body to move. Though his mind is far from him, his body is swift in its delivery of judgement. It all seems to move past him in a blur. She’s dead, he hears, over and over and over in his mind, screaming louder and louder. She’s dead. My future is gone before I could even reach her. She’s dead.

When his body finally stops, his chest heaving in labored breath, he looks around him to see bodies scattered across the floor. Snoke’s legs still sit in his throne, but his torso lies on the ground beside it. The blood of the praetorian guards riddles their already-red suits with dark crimson splotches.

He’s killed his way through everyone that attempted to confuse him- to turn him from his destiny- and yet he’s never felt so lost.

But before he has another moment to think, someone else reaches out to him.

‘Kylo Ren,’ a familiar voice called out in his mind, ‘You are losing your way- straying from the legacy of your grandfather. Join me. Allow me to guide you again.’

“Okay,” Kylo whispers to himself. He finally tears his eyes away from the slaughter he’s surrounded himself with and heads to his ship, on which a map through the Unknown Regions has been transmitted. Ignoring the unfolding chaos around him, he takes off from the Finalizer’s hangar, headed for Exegol.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

As the troopers drag you away for execution, adrenaline slows time down to a crawl. You think about everything that has seemed to go wrong since you made it to Chandrila, and how every decision- whether for better or worse- has brought you here. You think about your father, the man you never got to meet again who died just the same way you’re about to. It’s almost poetic. Almost.

You think about the people you care about. Vilya, who sacrificed her livelihood and her life for you. Poe, whose promise you’d be breaking. Kylo, who may never make it back to the light. Finn and Rey, who trained with you and welcomed you into the family you never had. Luke, who became like a father to you. Obi-Wan, the man who believed in you despite the odds, and would now have to be let down.

Be with me, Grandfather, you think as the troopers bring you to your knees, the laser ax humming near your ear.

‘Bring balance back to the force,’ his voice replied urgently, ‘balance, padawan.’

You hear the whispers of the dark side teasing your mind again, and this time, you take its hand. In one swift movement, you wrench from their grasp, turn around, and lift both troopers off the ground in a chokehold with the force. The moment they fall unconscious, you dash to the hangar, taking the lesser-known hallways and shortcuts you've grown acquainted with to get there as fast as you can undetected. When you arrive, you run to the closest ship and hop in, taking off the moment the ship starts running. Though some troopers notice your sudden departure via an unauthorized ship, their blasts are powerless against your escape.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

Arriving back to the resistance base, you’re surrounded by chaos. Countless ships are beginning to take off, while many others are speeding around to gather their supplies and say just-in-case goodbyes and well wishes. Looking for any familiar face, you find Finn handing off gear to some pilots.

“Finn!” You call out over the noise of the crowd, weaving through the bodies to reach him.

His head perks up at his name, and upon your arrival, he greets you.

“Have the others left yet?”

“Rey is already there. I think Poe is on his way, but he’s still reaching out to our allies for help.”

You nod. “What about General Organa?” you ask, realizing the normally hands-on general is nowhere to be seen.

Finn's face falls. He glances to the pilots, who wear a similar expression, and they take the rest of the gear before promptly heading off to their respective ships.

“She’s gone,” he says finally.

Your heart sinks. I didn’t know…

“But we carry on,” he adds. “In her honor, and in the name of everyone we've lost along the way.” Finn puts his hands on your shoulders. “We could use your help.”

“I’m no pilot-”

“No,” he interjects, shaking his head, “Help Rey.”

“I don’t know if I can-”

“You have to try,” he pleads.

His look of desperation takes you back.

“Someone has to try,” he reiterates. “I’ve seen you train. You’re the only one of us who can keep up with her, and I’m worried she can’t do it alone.”

“Okay,” you nod, “I’ll try.”

He pulls you in for a hug, whispering a ‘thank you’ beside your ear.

“I’ll see you later then,” you suppose.

“See you there,” he confirms as he takes off towards the base.

You get back into the ship you had taken from the Finalizer to find that Finn sent you the map they had retrieved from the wayfinder. With a deep breath and a prayer to the force, you take off to Exegol.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

Rey steps off of her ship and onto the ground of Exegol with Leia’s lightsaber in hand. Before her stands- no, floats- what must be an old Sith temple just above the planet’s surface. She looks up at the massive black structure as lightning strikes the ground nearby at random. She moves forward, eventually finding a platform that begins to lower her underground.

She watches the statues surrounding her grow in height as the platform falls lower and lower until it finally stops. She steps off and follows the guidance of the force as it leads her into the amphitheater that holds Darth Sidious, held by the Ommin Harness, and his throne. She slowly walks up to Sidious, who greets his granddaughter with an all-too ominous sense of anticipation.

With words he knows will sting, Sidious taunts her, insisting that her legacy is here. Though a comment on her parents and a threat to her friends tempts her for a moment to give in, the force pulls her back as she realizes: I’m not alone.

You’ve arrived- she can feel it. And you’re just in time.

She steps away, the hum of her drawn saber echoing in the massive room.

Sidious senses a shift and pulls back. At the same time, the Sovereign Protectors make their way out of the shadows.

Rey brings her blade up with a smile.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

Kylo lands beside an old X-Wing fighter when he arrives to the stormy planet. The dark side is potent here, meaning that the light stands out all the more- and Rey is a crimson stain on a blanket of snow. He doesn’t need to see her to know that she’s already here. In his mind, though, it’s just one more person from a long line of people that must be eliminated.

“All these lives, just for control?” The voice of Han Solo beckons from behind, stopping Kylo in his tracks.

Kylo keeps his back to the ghost of his father. “They’re sacrifices for the greater good. Control can put an end to the suffering.”

“The suffering will never end, son. It’s life. And no matter how hard you try, you’ll always find more like me- people who want to really live.”

“I killed you!” Kylo bellows, fists clenching at his side. “What makes them any different?”

“Did you?” Han asks, taking steps towards his son.

Kylo stops. For once, he’s wordless.

“No matter how hard we try to run, we always end up back home. The sooner you accept that, the easier your life is gonna be, kid.”

“I have no home,” he laments, turning his head back just over his shoulder.

Then, Leia speaks: “Oh, that’s a terrible excuse.”

Finally, Kylo turns around to see his father and mother standing side by side, looking at him with nothing but compassion in their eyes.

“Pave a new path, Ben,” Leia beckons.

He takes a few long moments to think.

“There’s so many choices,” he finally whispers.

“It never matters how many options there are,” she reassures him, “you’ll know which one is right.”

“But even the right path seems so dark now.”

“The light will find you,” Leia encourages.

“It always does,” Han adds.

His parents fade, and he turns to stare out to the horizon. With a grunt, he throws his saber. As it arcs in the air, a bolt of lightning strikes down, running through the lightsaber and reaching the ground. The hilt cracks as it falls to the dead earth, the kyber crystal inside shattered into pieces.

No more.

“Ben?”

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

When you arrive to Exegol, you take comfort in the feeling of having been here before; it gives you more confidence in your ability to help Rey. Landing near the massive black box that seems to float on the planet’s surface, you notice two other ships are already there. You take your place in line with them and step out of your ship.

Your eyes are immediately drawn to the man you had been running from for so long now. He stands at a distance, his body half-facing you, and yet he seems to be staring off into nothing, taking no notice of your arrival. You watch as he throws his lightsaber into the horizon, a lightning bolt catching it as it flies.

You hesitantly walk towards him, but as you approach, you realize something is off. The man before you is not at all the man you had come to know, and at the same time, he has never seemed to be more himself. Suddenly, you’re reminded of one of the first times you had seen into his mind, all those months ago: the visions of his mother longing for him to come home- the sound of her calling his name. As you look to the man before you, only one name comes to mind; so, in a shaky voice, you call to him:

“Ben?”

He turns to you. The light. His mind takes a moment to process the sight in front of him. He runs to you. Before you can embrace, he stops just short. But what if she’s only a ghost, too; here to haunt me for my failure?

You sense his hesitation, his fear, and his aching heart. You take his hand in both of yours. “It’s me,” you affirm softly.

His shoulders relax as he lets out a shaky, thankful breath. She’s alive. Despite his moment of blissful victory, he is still left unsure of what to do or say next.

Something tells you he didn’t come here to help. Yet, you know now that he can. Together, you think.

“I have to do this,” you finally say, your voice carrying a greater confidence than you were used to.

“I know,” he says softly.

“And you do too.”

He nods. “Together.”

You remove your sabers from your belt and hold them out in front of you. Your eyes linger on the saber in your left hand- Anakin’s saber. The one Kylo unknowingly brought you to in Tatooine. The one Luke gifted to you and trained you with. The one that could bring balance to the force when carried with the other. Looking back up at Ben, you hand him his grandfather’s lightsaber.

You both draw your grandfathers’ blades as the Knights of Ren suddenly surround you. Clashing blades and strained yells and thuds of bodies ring out in a cacophony accompanied by the sound of thunder as you fight. As blades once turned against each other return back to weapons meant to work together, you both feel the spirits of Obi-Wan and Anakin guide your minds and your blades to act as one. Though fighting well, the Knights of Ren could not stop the power set in motion by the two of you.

It's as if the force is using you both to heal a wound neither caused.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

Luke was first caught off guard by the smell of smoke, as if a giant bonfire had been started somewhere nearby. It wasn’t until he saw the source of the smoke that he began to panic.

Running towards the old tree, he’s horrified to see flames engulfing the trunk. As he begins to hopelessly attempt to put out the flames, he realizes Yoda has been standing there all along in his ghostly form.

“Help me!” Luke cries out in desperation.

“No need, there is. Start the fire, I did.”

Luke stops as Yoda’s words sink in. “You did what?”

“Time, it is. Pave a new path, we must. One of balance. Set in motion, you must,” Yoda explains.

“But we could still use those!”

“Create something new, you cannot, if, cling to the old, you will.”

Though a little reluctant to admit it, Luke sees the truth of Yoda’s words, even if he disagreed with the drastic actions taken to underline them. It was time to let go of the idea that there could only be one or the other- light or dark. He could still leave a legacy, but it could be a better one; it could be dedicated to accepting the balance already within the force.

“So how do we start?”

“Your nephew- needs you, he does. To Exegol, you must go. Made right, wrongs will be.”

Luke wonders if perhaps the force will make a way for him, so he could still help guide his nephew; perhaps he didn’t fail Ben completely. Maybe he could help his latest padawans, too. But there’s only one way to know.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

You and Ben manage to finish off the Knights of Ren and make it down to the throne room of the Sith Citadel by the time Rey defeats the last of the Sovereign Protectors.

As Rey steadies herself again, the three of you line up and ready your blades. For a moment, with the each of you giving it your all, it seems you just manage to counter every move Sidious can throw at you. We have a chance of winning this. However, after only a few moments of vicious back-and-forth attacks, Sidious forces the three of you backward.

Holding Rey and Ben back with the lightning that streaks from his hand, Sidious force chokes you, lifting you up and towards him. “Give into your pain,” he growls at you.

He then turns to Ben. “Your anger made you stronger,” he taunts. He throws you off to the side, your back slamming into the stone wall surrounding you.

Using the force, he holds you there, a few meters off the ground. “And you cannot save them all,” he cackles to Rey as the ceiling of the Citadel splits open.

Hanging above you are hundreds and hundreds of ships flying amidst a massive Sith fleet. Canon blasts riddle the sky as the ships all fire at each other. Suddenly, a gigantic bolt of lightning arcs up into the sky, splitting into hundreds of small branches, each attaching to a resistance ship.

As the lightning shoots upward, Sidious slams you to the ground.

You hear both Rey and Ben yell as you hit the ground with a thud and blackout.

When you come back to consciousness, you look up to see Luke standing a few yards away from Sidious. Casting out from his hands is a cluster of lightning, aimed directly for Luke.

Luke’s eyes are set on Sidious, his determination made clear in his expression. On the other side of the bolts of lightning are Luke’s hands, catching the lightning and pushing it backward.

Sidious laughs as Luke begins to slide backwards due to the force of the attack he’s holding back.

Blueish spheres of energy begin to build in front of Luke’s palms as he finally holds his ground and begins to take steps towards Sidious.

Sidious’ expression shifts to concern as Luke overtakes the power used against him and harnesses it.

With a shout, Luke pushes the energy he had channeled back to Sidious, and suddenly the lightning bolt branching out in the air above disappears as Sidious is forced backwards. Cracking and crashing sounds ring out as the harness holding Sidious up and keeping him alive breaks down, some pieces falling to the ground.

Luke flies backwards from the resulting explosion, landing hundreds of feet away from the fight.

Ben jumps up with his saber, set to fly down on Sidious and split him in half, but he’s stopped just inches before his blade can touch the Sith. His saber falls to the ground as he’s held in the air.

You finally manage to get to your feet and run to Luke, but before you can make it even halfway to him, you’re suddenly being dragged backwards towards Sidious.

In just a few moments, You and Ben have been forced to your knees side by side. You watch helplessly as beams of whispering, swirling light are drawn out for your chest and his. You feel the force cry out as you become increasingly weaker. Your body fights to get into overdrive as death draws near, but to no avail.

A sick laughter echoes in the chamber as Sidious watches his decomposing body come back to life, sapping the power of a dyad.

Suddenly, the pressure holding you and Ben up relieves and you both drop.

Rey stands between you, two sabers clutched in her hands.

Another arc of lightning crackles over your head, which Rey catches and pushes back with Obi-Wan’s saber.

“I,” Sidious bellows, his voice ringing out in the room and in your minds as you struggle to stay awake, “am all the Sith.”

Rey begins to push forward. As she passes you, you can hear the voices of countless people whispering. This time, the whispers aren’t dark, hissing threats. Instead, light seems to glow around her as the whispers make her stronger.

“And I,” she answers through gritted teeth, drawing Anakin’s saber and crossing the blade over Obi-Wan’s, “am all the Jedi.”

She reaches the steps of Sidious’ decayed throne and forces the lightning back onto him.

His flesh begins to rip and tear away from his bones. He cries out in agony as his power, his throne, and his life are finally ripped away from him for the last time until there is nothing left.

The moment he’s gone, you glance up at the skies to see the Sith ships explode as the resistance ships- now recovered and revitalized with hope- destroy everything that’s left.

You smile weakly, looking back to Ben to make note of the victory, but he’s no longer there.

He sits beside Rey, who lies limp on the ground.

You manage to crawl over to her.

“Do something,” he pleads to you.

I’m the healer. I should be able to do something. You look down and gingerly take Rey’s body from Ben’s hands. As you hold her, though, you sense that she is too far gone for any tincture or medicine.

“Give her to me,” Luke instructs softly as he kneels down next to you.

You look up at him hesitantly as you shift Rey from your lap into his.

“It’s time we bring an end to the Jedi, too,” he begins, looking between you and Ben as he holds Rey, one hand cradling her head while one rests on her stomach. “One extreme will always foster the growth of the other. Forge a new way.”

You nod, and though you don’t understand why, something churns in your stomach telling you that this is goodbye.

Ben nods, and it seems he understands more than you do. “Thank you,” he whispers, his eyes sparkling as they well up. A tear gently rolls down his cheek in silence.

With a soft smile, Luke closes his eyes and calls out to the force one last time. He takes a deep breath.

Rey’s breathing grows stronger as color comes back to her body. She looks over to you, then to Ben, then to Luke.

You smile at the sight of Rey sitting up, her strength renewed.

She turns to Luke to thank him, but before the words make it out, Luke disappears.

You blink a few times as you look down to see his robes left behind in his place.

Rey turns back to you both with a grin, sharing a knowing look.

Though he’s gone, you realize you can still sense his presence, and you finally understand.

Without wasting another moment, you pull Rey and Ben into an embrace. You all let out a breathy, almost incredulous laugh. We did it. We won.

You all help each other onto your feet and stand. Rey gathers the robes of her mentor and calls the stray sabers to her hands. You and Ben take your sabers back from Rey and look up to the skies.

Though the ships are no longer firing, and most are still, you can almost hear their cheers from down here. One by one, the resistance and their allies begin to take off, heading back to wherever they came from.

The three of you silently return to your ships. Rey gets into hers first.

“I’ll meet you there,” you promise.

She nods, thanking the both of you one last time, and takes off to return to the resistance base.

You watch her leave before looking back down at Ben, who can’t seem to take his eyes off of you.

He closes the gap between you and wraps his arms around you in a strong embrace.

You return the affection without a moment of hesitation.

While you’re holding each other, it feels as if something has finally finished; as if a chapter is closed- one that you both-and the force itself- were waiting for all along.

You let go just enough to see Ben’s face and, with as much courage as you have left, kiss him.

When you finally pull away from each other, you both wear a bright smile.

“I need to return to my friends,” you finally say.

“Go,” he encourages, walking backwards to his ship.

“Where will I find you?”

“I’ll be home.”

You laugh as you watch him take off. You know he means your home, in Coruscant- but, you do like the idea of sharing it with him.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

Arriving back to the resistance base, you struggle to find a place to land among the scattered ships that were hastily parked and the masses of people celebrating the final victory. Eventually, you do find a place to comfortably park your ship.

Although you’re exhausted from the insane day you had just endured, you’re also antsy to see your friends again. You wander through the clusters of people, scanning for anyone you recognize. You realize trying to ask anyone for direction would be hopeless- not just because they would have no real answer, but also because they’re caught up in their own moments. Finally, your eyes land on Rey and Finn, locked in a tight embrace.

You jog over to them and see a weary looking Poe approaching the couple. You run straight to him, nearly toppling him over in a hug. He lets out an easy laugh.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“For what?”

“For keeping your promise.”

“Only because you kept yours,” he answers, relief clear in his voice.

You lightly peck his cheek and pull away.

He gives you a wink before Finn barges in and hugs Poe, the two of them laughing. You turn to Rey and the two of you embrace again, your laughter joining the cacophony of jubilation that surrounds you all.

It’s over. You all won. And you can change the future for the better.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

After some retellings of the battles you each fought and making plans to meet up again to discuss the journey that now lies before you all, you decide it’s time to head back home. You start making your way back to your ship to see Luke leaning against it, grinning as he waves at you. Beside him is Obi-Wan, arms crossed, watching with a smile. The two of them, though appearing to you clear as day, seem to be somewhat translucent. You stop in your tracks.

“Thank you,” you whisper to them, “for everything.”

With a wink from one and a nod from the other, they fade away.

You get back to your ship and arrive at Coruscant to see Ben standing outside, leaning against the doorway of your home as he watches the sunset. When you reach him, he lifts and spins you in another hug, setting you back down with a kiss. There is so much to say, but for now, it will have to wait.

The two of you head inside to celebrate, rest, and dream about the future you will create together.

(Epilogue)

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heliads · 2 years

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Four and Five

Based on this request: "platonic Four x fem reader. She and Four have been best friends since they were kids. Her mother died when she was a kid and her father became an abusive alcoholic. She and Four chose Dauntless. Tobias had four fears and reader had five. Her fears are spiders, as she was bitten by one before her mother died, her father, confined spaces, dying, and losing Four."

masterlist

At one point, it was the two of you and no one else.

Abnegation, try as it might, is not a place for great community. It is better to suffer in silence than waste breath that could have been used to save those in need on something as mundane as parlor conversation. The members of your gray-robed faction have people whose presence they enjoy and people whose presence they pride themselves on withstanding, but friends are rare. They are an excess, and here, that is not tolerated.

That is not to say that Abnegation is made of enemies, only, much like the rest of it, a collection of neutral stances. It would be unkind to like any one person more than the other if they were not your family or your lover. That is the way it has always been, and likely the way it will always be. Abnegation is not well suited for change.

It should be a sign, then, that the two people who chafed the most against this rule would end up leaving. Abnegation was not meant for you, nor the boy who was once known as Tobias Eaton. If the two of you ever found each other at all, it is only because you were each so vastly different from everyone else around you that it would be impossible for your paths not to cross.

You contemplated running from an early age. It is heartbreaking to think about how easy it would be. You could grab a few things like clothes and food and just take off in any direction. Maybe you wouldn’t bring anything at all. You could just go, push yourself faster and faster until your old life was nothing but dust. The idea is as tempting as it is impossible.

After all, this life was not meant to be easy. Without the factions, you have nothing. Although the open streets called your name a thousand times, you could not answer, not until the Choosing Ceremony.

That’s why you met Tobias for the first time, actually. You were both looking for something to distract you from the way that life was. Instead of an escape, you found each other, though in all honesty your meeting was just as good. Without Tobias, you wouldn’t have made it through your early days in Abnegation. That much you can say with certainty.

You didn’t know that you were ever the same after meeting him. Running into Tobias was an accident, pure and simple, but it was the best accident of your life. Poets have been writing centuries’ worth of sonnets over the thrill of finding your one true love, but you think they’ve got it wrong. Finding the person who will become your best friend is a thousand times better than that.

Once you had Tobias on your side, you could do anything. Both of you had houses you’d rather avoid: mothers gone, fathers twisted. Your home was with Tobias, it would be from the moment you met him. When things got bad, the two of you could meet up somewhere out of the watchful eye of the faction and be safe. Sometimes you would talk or fix up each other’s wounds or just sit there in silence, content in the knowledge that at one point it would be better.

You didn’t know what faction you would choose at first. That you would transfer was unquestionable– neither of you were meant for this life, not in the slightest. The patronizing self sacrifices gnawed at you like rats to a bone. Nothing fit, nothing made sense. Neither of you understood why until you took your aptitude tests and both came back with results best kept buried.

Both of you were Divergent. Both. It was fitting somehow, like of course the two Divergents in all of Abnegation would manage to find each other some way or another, but it also meant that the danger increased twofold. You weren’t just keeping your secret anymore, you were keeping Tobias’ secret as well.

It meant that you were going to have to transfer, and transfer well. You and Tobias spent many long days working methodically through each option in front of you. Remaining in Abnegation was unthinkable, you had to escape your fathers in some way, and damning yourself to stay here forever would kill you just as surely as discovery.

Candor was too liberal with their truth serum, they’d ask you one question about things you’d like to keep hidden and you’d be exposed on the first day. Erudite is too sharp, they’d figure you out in moments. Plus, their leader, Jeanine Matthews, was making waves in Abnegation for her radical tendencies. Staying away from her would probably be best.

Amity was always an option, but only as a last resort. Neither you nor Four were ever truly suited for peace. The thought of laying down your guard and just existing in a perennial state of bliss was so unlike you it was almost funny. The two of you will be running for the rest of your lives, you might as well find a faction where that’s normal behavior.

That left one faction, the most dangerous faction. Dauntless. At first, Dauntless was out of the question. If there’s anywhere you could be killed in the blink of an eye were someone to find out about your Divergence, it would be Dauntless. Then again, Dauntless is also the only place where you could kill someone who figured you out. You could be a predator, not just prey. It’s the only faction that would give you the ability to fight back.

Thus your choice was made at last. You and Four debated for quite some time, but at the end your minds were made up. Like it or not, Dauntless is your only chance at survival. The night before the Choosing Ceremony, the two of you met up one last time and promised to make it out together. Your last hours in Abnegation were about to come to a close, and then you’d be free, free forever. You couldn’t be happier at the thought of it.

Some part of you was terrified that it was never going to work out. Abnegation had a way of sucking your spirits dry, of making you think that there would never be anything more to life than that endless stretch of nothingness. Dauntless was stunned by how much you and Tobias thirsted for blood from the very first day of initiation, but neither of you were taken aback. If you could light the world ablaze, why wouldn’t you? The rush of adrenaline alone was more than you had ever felt in your life.

Slicing open your palm the day of your Choosing Ceremony didn’t feel like pain, it came off more as freedom. Abnegation was shaken when not one but two of its children switched to Dauntless. All of the factions were amazed, for that matter, but they forgot soon enough. You and Tobias embraced the Dauntless lifestyle wholeheartedly, and even after a few days it was impossible that the two of you could have ever been from anywhere but Dauntless.

It just worked, that’s all. You and Tobias threw each other into your new life with the sort of reckless abandon that guarantees you a spot in the top ranks. You showed up to each day’s training sessions early, you stayed late. Anything to get ahead. This was your chance to make a new name for yourself, and so you did.

Quite literally, as it turns out. You didn’t much like the idea of the fear landscapes, but once you were on the Dauntless track, it’s not like you could turn back. You made it through the first stage of initiation with flying colors, you and Tobias in slots one and two in the rankings, but the second stage worried you more than the first. You can take a punch and deal out your fair share of them, but letting anyone into your head is a decided threat.

After all, what if whoever was in charge of your fear landscape did some looking and figured out that you’ve been keeping a pretty big secret? Neither you nor Tobias can afford to be revealed as Divergents. Not here, not anywhere. The only option, then, was to give the faction something else to talk about.

See, the benefit of being a free-thinking Divergent is that you tend to do pretty damn well in mental challenges like the fear landscape. It just isn’t real to you, no more than a particularly threatening daydream. Even when you’re in the thick of things in the simulations, you know that it isn’t real. That lets you keep your head, which is what Dauntless likes to see the most.

You know what people said when the news of your fear landscape first hit the faction. It seemed impossible– five fears in a place where people usually had ten or fifteen? Who were you to shake at so little?

What your fears lack in quantity, though, they make up for them in quality. You see the same five things every time you enter your fear landscape, and although they never change, they never seem to grow less intimidating no matter how many times you see them.

The first is a swarm of spiders, the low light glistening over their beady eyes and shining bodies. You were bitten by a spider a few months before your mother died. You were so young that you couldn’t help but connect the two events in your mind. Is it possible that the punishment of you surviving a dangerous bite was your mother’s death? Perhaps she paid the price you never did. The fear was cemented as truth in your head ever since you were a kid, and it refuses to leave you still.

The second is your father. He was as heavy in his drinking as he was in his punches. You hate him for what he did to you, what he still does to you. You’ll never be able to shake those memories, no matter how hard you try. The third fear goes along with your father as well. Small spaces; he used to lock you up in a dark closet when he was sick of your sobbing. You can’t help the claustrophobia any more than you can help your hatred of your father's favorite brand of liquor.

The fourth fear is dying, although that one’s the most common here. After all you’ve been through, the thought of biting it too early makes you furious. You have lived through more than any kid deserves, and you will not let yourself take your last breath until you’ve done all that you could and more to give yourself a better life.

The last fear is personal: not just your death, but Tobias’ as well. He has been the one person to stand behind you since you were a kid, your only ally, your closest friend. Losing Tobias would be the end of you, of that you are certain. Your final fear is where your head gets creative, thinking up scenario after scenario in which Tobias dies before your very eyes. No matter what, you can never do anything to save him, and it is always your fault.

Despite the difficulty of the fears, you make it through your landscape every time. Your time, already golden, improves with every go. You were in a good position coming out of the first stage of initiation, but with your success in the fear landscape, a place in the top rankings is all but guaranteed.

A rebranding was the only possible thing to follow. It’s one thing to fear the former Abnegation kids, or Tobias and Y/N, but say the names Four and Five and even the faction leaders are getting nervous. You only have five fears. Tobias only has four. You looked at each other across crowds of impressed students and decided to burn the past once and for all. Y/N is dead, if she was ever alive in the first place.

All that’s left is what you’ve made of yourself here. The name change was the last thing you needed to abandon, and now you’re something new, something better. Y/N was a girl who cowered in the shadows of Abnegation, who cursed her mother’s ghost and feared her father’s punches. Five is the sort of woman who would rather kill you than flinch.

The same thing goes for what used to be Tobias. You can see the shreds of the past leaving him in a rush, every bit of trauma and hurt shrugged off like an outgrown coat. He took on the name Four and scares the rest of the faction just as much as you do. You wouldn’t know he thinks about the past at all were it not for the reminders inked into his skin.

You’re the only one who’s seen Four’s tattoos, although you hope you won’t be the only one forever. Four is your closest friend, your brother, but you want him to be happy outside of his endless cycle of revenge and punishment on those who’ve hurt him. Some day in the future, perhaps some day that won’t come for quite some time, Four will find someone to make him heal. You’ll be waiting for that day with great joy.

In fact, about a year or two later, you think you might have stumbled upon that very girl. You and Four graduated with the top two rankings, and took similar jobs in the intelligence division of Dauntless. You work together training initiates, always on the lookout for people like you who might need someone watching their back. Divergents have to stick by each other.

That’s where Four found Tris, and you couldn’t be happier about it. Four needs someone to make him smile, to think about a future in which he could finally lay down his weapons. Neither of you have been able to do that for quite some time, but you think Four deserves it.

Until that day comes, the two of you will keep on fighting your wars, staying alive as best you can. This city is a dangerous place, Dauntless itself the worst of it. That being said, you have a feeling that both of you will do just fine. Anyone in your faction could tell you that much. Four and Five have a way of making it out alive. You can only hope that Six will follow suit.

divergent tag list: @rogueanschel, @with-inked-solace, @gods-fools-heroes, @23victoria, @manyfandomsfanvergent

requested by @thornyrose463, who also made this graphic:

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eunoia-writes · 2 years

Text

Frownie face stickers • Conrad fisher

Warnings: Smut (this is my first ever time writing smut so pls bare with also pls leave a comment or anything so Ik If this is any good if really appreciated it) MDI

Summery: y/n and Conrad have a running joke of her giving him well done stickers after they hooked up but for the first time ever she gives him a frownie face stickers

Conrad hand wrapped around y/n’s neck while her jaw was slacked open the room was filled with nothing but the sound of skin slapping against each other along with both of their moans “gonna…fuck.” She moans hardly able to get her words out

“gonna cum pretty girl?” He said lifting her leg to his shoulder to get a better position. She nodded unable to form any coherent words “oh come on Doll, use your words.” He said never straying away from the relentless pace

“please.” She just about manage to say as his hand left her neck moving to rub circles on her clit with his fingers.

“Cum for me pretty girl.”

before she could warn him, the knot in her stomach unravels, she’s cumming with a strangled moan. before long Conrad rapid movements turn into ragged strokes as he spills inside her, throbbing as he does. She came down from her orgasm and stared up at him through half lidded eyes as he pulled out “such a good girl.” He mumbled as they both laid out of breath for a few minutes.

Conrad grabbed his shirt and underwear making his way into the bathroom before returning with a wet rag to clean her up after she pulled shirt and shorts y/n reached into the draw next to her before turning back to Conrad “What?” He asked looking at the smile on her face

“close your eyes.” She said and he raised his eyebrows but doing as she said anyway he felt her pat his shirt

“okay you can open them now.” She said giggling as he looked down at the small sticker of penguin holding a cake saying “good job.”

“You’re so stupid.” He said laughing along with y/n before taking the sticker off and putting it on the back of his phone

“what can I say… you did a good job.” Y/n said though laughs

“oh yeah a good job?” He asked leaning over her slightly

“I might even go as far as to say a great job.” She laughed as he leaned down kissing her softly “definitely a great job.” Y/n said as he pulled away

“where did you even get them from?” He asked wrapping his arms around her waist

“I got them for kids at summer camp but I completely forgot to take them in so they’ve been collecting dust in the drawer found them earlier when I was looking for my headphone.” She told him Making him laugh once again

“so I’m getting the same reward as your students now huh?” He teased as she nodded

And from then on Conrads sticker collection on the back of his phone only grew more until he thought it was be a wonderful idea to piss y/n off so while he was sat around the pool with Jeremiah and Steven while Belly and Taylor swam y/n stomped her way over to him

“you still mad at me?” He asked and y/n just nodded before leaning down sticking an frownie face sticker on his shirt and stomping back into the house “HEY… take that back!” He yelled after her but she just carried on walking

“What the hells that sticker about?” Steven asked as Jeremiah laughed knowing exactly what had happened due to y/n’s drunken confession the night before the others arrived

“y/n and Conrad have this thing that started out as a joke Everytime they hooked up y/n would give him at sticker saying good job or some bull shit hence the stickers on the back of his phone. And what I’m guessing is either they had shitty sex last night or he’s pissed her off, Am I right Connie?”

“Shush it jere.”

Conrad quickly rushed into the house while the others giggled and Taylor spouted how adorable it was. He found her in this room wearing just his shirt over his favourite bikini of hers it as black with little pink hearts on it “I’m going for a swim.” She said brushing past him but he caught her arm just in time

“Sit.”

Just that one syllable had her like putty in his hands “now you gonna quit pouting?” He asked sternly as she sat on the edge of his bed while he towered over her but y/n was a brat so of course he wasn’t going to get his way. She shook her head looking up at him through her eyelashes

“I’m gonna ask you one more time Doll and I suggest you think about your answer a little more… are you gonna quit pouting?” His hand came to her chin titling her head up to force her to look at him

“No!”

Conrad sighed turning on his heels and closing the door being sure to lock it before walking back over to her “why do you have to make things so difficult?” He asked him a soft humm at the end of his sentence. Y/n had nothing to say she was just trying to push his buttons as he had done hers earlier “what’s wrong doll you’re always so mouthy why not this time?”

She rolled her eyes “because you’re an ass!” She said standing up and cocked his head to the side

“Oh is that so?” Y/n just nodded making her way to the door but Conrad caught her arm pulling her back and smashing his lips into hers. The kiss was desperate. He kissed her like it would be his last. Like it was the only thing keeping him going. Her arms wrapped around his neck and her hands tangled into his hair while his hands were on her waist pulling her impossibly close. She’d hardly noticed that he’d backed her onto the bed behind them.

“You gonna stop being such a brat?” He mumbled into the kiss but she’s couldn’t say a world. She didn’t need to. He already knew his answer.

Conrad’s hands sliding under her shirt she shivered from the coldness suddenly on her skin “can I?” He asked y/n nodded letting him take her shirt off. It made her smile the way he was still so polite. Even after all this time. He still asked like it was the first time. Like he didn’t know she’d let him do whatever he wanted to her.

Conrad re-connected there lips his hands reached down to untie her bikini bottomed as his lips trailed down to her neck she let out a soft wine as he found her sweet spot. “Up.” He mumbled into her neck telling her lift her ass up so he could pull them down and discarding them somewhere in her room before moving to her shirt as he continued sucking marks on her neck.

Y/n grabbed the bottom of his shirt attempting to pull it off only to let out a whine when she couldn’t get it off “take it off.”

Conrad moved away from her neck “say please.” He teased

“please… it’s not fair I’m underneath you in nothing you’re still fully clothed.” She said he laughed before pushing himself up off her before getting rid of any clothes left on him.

“Better?” She nodded before he moved back in between her legs. He left a trail of open mouthed kisses down her chest to right were she needed him the most before pressing a kissed against

“Connie.” She purred his name as he blew hot air over her swollen clit before diving in. his tongue traced her folds before he lapped at her clit. Y/n back arched off the bed, electricity bolting through her nerves. Her hands flew to tug at his hair as he lapped at her clit feverishly so Desperate to taste her. He caught her off guard slipping a digit into her, groaned into her when your legs locked around his head, securing him in place. Not that he needed it. He’d stay here forever if she’d let him.

“Please Connie.” She moaned his fingers pumped in and out of her while his tongue made work on her clit. her thighs tremble and eyes roll back into her head. One hand grip the sheets her knuckles white, while the other tugged at his locks. The pressure in her abdomen built but so does something else, something deeper at the same time. Conrad took note pulling away “you taste just Devine doll but I’m not sure you deserve to cum today.” He said as she whimpered at the loss of contact.

She watched as he stripped himself of his underwear “Darling you’re so pretty it hurts.” He said leaning down it kiss her again “are you sure you wanna?” He asked y/n nodded if she wasn’t so worked up she’d of told him how cute it was that he was still taking care of her “need words Doll.” She groaned growing impatient

“yes I’m sure.” Conrad leaned down to kiss her once more before he lined himself up with her entrance before he sank into her both of them gasping at the feeling.

“fuck, you feel so good,” he moaned. She was appreciative of his slow thrusts her constant wines were evident of that. Conrad brought his hand to her mouth shoving two of his fingers into her mouth

“As much as I love hearing my name from that pretty little mouth or yours you gotta keep quite or everyone is gonna hear.” He said stifling a moan himself she nodded her legs wrapping around his waist pulling him closer as his hips rocked back and forth “Fuck y/n.” He groaned in her ear as she clenched around him. His free hand moving from her mouth and wrapping around her throat squeezing slightly as his hips moved faster

“Fuck Connie… I’m close.” She managed biting her lips to stop herself from screaming out “You're close, huh Doll? You gonna cum all over my cock like the good girl you are?" Each one of his words brings her closer and closer to the edge, and all it takes is his thumb massaging against her clit to push her over. Everything goes tight. She cry out a high-pitched moan, whispering Conrad’s name over and over because it's the only word She can manage to say. She clench hard around his cock, but his pace never slows which makes the pleasure almost painful. Her thighs are trembling where they're wrapped around his torso and her hands curl into the sheets.

“God you look so pretty like that.” His thrusts start to grow uneven and His breaths become sharp as he snaps his hips against hers until finally he releases a strained moan from low in his throat and stills inside her, spilling his cum into her. His head drops to the crook of her neck momentarily pressing light kisses over the marks he’d previously left. He pulled out of her rolling onto his back next to her.

“Maybe I need to piss you off more.”

———

Tag list -

@gillybear17 @unsaidjaelinrose @mxdnight-spell @rocksytherock @nai-lily @absurdos @timotheeandshawn @drewstarkeysgirl @winterberryfox @coolcooliothings-blog @moorestephanie @pads31 @hearts4peterparker @midnightxxmoments @joelsfarabees @lupinscupid @Haeily @onlyangel-444 @lonelywitchv2 @bookophiliac @marvel-f1-and-more @prettysummerbaby @iloveefictionalpeople @withbeautyandrage @cryonme @littlefreaksatellite @Steph1106 @ietss @kayreblogs @iluvt4ylorswift @liltimmyst @eowyns-throne

#the summer i turned pretty #the summer i turned pretty x reader #the summer i turned pretty x y/n #the summer i turned pretty x you #tsitp #tsitp x reader #the summer i turned pretty imagine #tsitp imagine #tsitp fanfic #conrad #conrad fisher #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher x you #team conrad

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meowdarame · 2 years

Text

𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐚 𝐝𝐨𝐠-𝐞𝐚𝐭-𝐝𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝

masterlist | next chapter

pairing: bonten!mikey x fem!reader (afab!reader, she/her pronouns)

synopsis: leading an empire of violence, manjiro sano thought that he’d seen it all. but when a graduate research student begins working as a hostess at one of his clubs in the tokyo red light district, his worldview starts to gradually shift. there’s one, cardinal issue though— he can’t let you know that he’s the head of japan’s most dangerous crime syndicate.

word count: 5.0k

warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI. no explicit smut in this chapter but sexual themes are present. mentions of sex work, alcohol consumption, and murder (to an extent). explicit language. switching POVs will be indicated by three red dots (…) whereas a scene change is signified by three white dots (…)

notes: after a month of letting this fic collect dust in my google docs, i finally finished the first chapter! thank you to all my moots who let me scream about the plot for this work <3 let me know if you recognize some of their cameos ;) i hope you enjoy and reblogs + feedback are super appreciated!!!

“How… boring.”

Mikey yawns as his fingers shuffle through the files on his desk, briskly skimming through monthly reports delivered to him by his executives.

Hostess club in Kabukicho experiencing a period of rapid growth. Ten percent increase in profits this past month.

It’s the same routine every day, all fifty-two weeks of the year. He sits at his desk, half-interestedly reading through status reports written by men that he’s never met before and will probably never meet— unless, that is, they commit a crime so egregious against Bonten that there’s no other option than for them to be executed. Only then would they come face to face with the man that they work for, the man that they’ve chosen to follow and give their lives to. It’s a known fact in this gang that meeting Mikey is synonymous to meeting your maker.

New hostess recruits recently started working at the club, and they are making good headway in learning establishment standards. Because of this, we expect an even greater increase in the upcoming months, considering that we have new merchandise to showcase.

His eyes flit across the page as he continues scanning the letter, but then his pupils land upon something interesting— a glaring red flag in the otherwise dull report.

One such recruit is a foreigner currently studying at the University of Tokyo, acting as a graduate student by day and a hostess at night. We initially did not want to accept her, but she agreed to work for a lower wage. She claims that employment experience at a hostess club is necessary for her grad research, which is why she was so determined to secure this job.

Mikey rereads the line again, then another time after that. Are his eyes deceiving him? How could the managers at this club be so stupid? This so-called “graduate student” could be an undercover spy for the Japanese police, or even worse, a member of a rival gang. Heat creeps up his neck and tints his ears red, but he forges on, reading the next paragraph.

We apologize for not running this solution by Mr. Kakucho beforehand. We took precautionary measures before hiring her, and all of her university enrollment paperwork has been verified. I, as the manager of the Four Orchid Hostess Club, promise you that we will keep a close eye on the research that she conducts and can assure you that no accounts that can be traced back to Bonten’s involvement will be recorded.

Of course, disposing of this “student” would be easy— a brief phone call and his executives would stage a little accidental drowning in the Sumida River. But something about this “student” intrigues him, because why— out of all the brothels in the Tokyo Red Light District— did she choose a Bonten establishment specifically? It feels purposeful, perhaps even targeted. There’s more to this situation than what meets the eye, and it piques Mikey’s interest just enough for him to go scope it out himself.

“Haruchiyo,” Mikey calls out to the subordinate to his left, who’s performing a daily cleaning of his beloved katana by delicately running an ivory handkerchief along its silver blade. “You know of our Four Orchid Hostess Club in Kabukicho, right?”

The pink-haired man’s ears immediately perk up upon the mention of the nightclub. “Yes, sir,” he starts, straightening his posture in his seat as he focuses all of his attention on his boss’s seemingly random question. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“Potentially,” is all Mikey mutters, his eyes returning to the sheet in front of him and his brows furrowing as he rereads the report.

“Um, if you want, sir,” Sanzu adds on after a few moments of tense silence. “I can take you to the club. I’m fairly acquainted with the establishment, and I was actually planning on visiting right after we left headquarters.”

Mikey stares amusedly at his subordinate, intrigued by his final statement. “Why are you so familiar with this hostess club? Are you seeing someone there?”

Sanzu chuckles lightly to himself and shakes his head, the scars that frame the corners of his lips curling upwards as he smiles. “Well, yes, but not in the way that you’d think. You see, my kind-of, sort-of girlfriend works there,” he admits, gently rubbing the back of his neck with his right hand.

“Girlfriend?” Mikey muses, a teasing lilt evident in his voice. It’s funny how Sanzu is the person that Mikey is closest to, and in some cases, who he might even consider to be his best friend— yet he didn’t know about something as trivial as the fact Sanzu has a girlfriend. Perhaps he isn’t the “pretty boy bachelor” that most people make him out to be; perhaps not everything is as they seem.

“How come you never told any of us that you have a girlfriend, Haruchiyo?”

“No one ever cared to ask,” Sanzu replies dryly, to which Mikey stands from his seat, grabs his car keys from his desk drawer, and tosses them onto his subordinate’s lap.

“You got me there,” Mikey jokes back. “And you’re driving since you’re so acquainted with the area.”

…

“So you’re certain we can just walk in undetected?” Mikey asks as he chews with a mouth full of taiyaki. A few crumbs fall from the dessert and land on his lap, and he picks them up with his fingertips and shoves them into his mouth.

Sanzu flashes a glare over at his boss before exhaling, “Mikey, with the utmost respect, please don’t make a mess in my front seat. I just got my car deep cleaned.” He hits his blinker to signal a left turn onto the freeway, his eyes checking his mirrors and over his shoulder for oncoming traffic. “But yes, you’re correct,” he continues on. “We paid good money to keep information about Bonten executives out of the press. The public only knows of my name and not what I look like, and I’m assuming that because you’re our leader, they’ll know even less about you. We should be fine, just don’t go around the club announcing that you’re the notorious Manjiro Sano.” The pink-haired man flashes Mikey a cheeky grin, eliciting a giggle from the blonde.

“Don’t worry; I don’t plan on it. I’m not Shion,” Mikey retorts, and Sanzu howls in laughter.

After their chuckles die down, Mikey adds on, this time in a mild tone, “Did you tell your girlfriend your name, Haruchiyo? Does she know who, or what, you are?”

Sanzu’s hands grip the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white, his eyes trained on the road ahead of him. He’s silent, licking his lips and furrowing his brows as he contemplates how to respond to that question.

Mikey’s voice snaps him out of his dazed state. “You don’t need to pop a blood vessel while coming up with an answer. I’m not angry, just curious,” he reassures him. “It’s alright if you told her who you are, as long as you trust that she’d keep it a secret.”

“That’s kinda the issue,” Sanzu breathes out, slumping in his seat. “I haven’t even told her my full name, much less who I am. It’s kind of a touchy subject, you know— your boyfriend who was once your client is actually technically your boss. Oh, and 70 percent of your earnings go into his already fat pockets!”

Sanzu shrugs, “Not exactly the easiest thing to bring up while on a date.”

“That’s valid,” Mikey replies quietly, kissing his teeth at the end of his statement. “Romance and our lifestyle aren’t exactly a match made in heaven, don’t you think?”

The subordinate shakes his head, laughing wryly, “It sure is a dog-eat-dog world.”

…

“Do you have any Pussy Fairy?”

The short-haired brunette glares at you with an urgent look on her face, panic evident in her voice. You can’t help but stare back in shock, confused by the string of words that just escaped from her mouth.

“I’m sorry, but what?” you inquire, but she doesn't have time to explain, a pink and white bottle being shoved in front of her face by another hostess.

“Here, Han,” the other girl teases, to which the brunette grabs the bottle from her co-worker’s grasp. “I know how much you love your vag cream.”

Han rolls her eyes as she strides to the door. “I don’t love it, but my customers do! Brings in more money!” She stops in the doorway and turns around, calling out, “But I don’t think you have to worry about money all that much, huh Cat? Since your gangster sugar daddy has you all taken care of!” She runs out of the room before Cat can throw a hairbrush at her, and the latter gives up her pursuit and sits on the chair next to you.

“So,” you start, still trying to process the events that had just unfolded. “Uh–”

“Cat!”

“Cat,” you repeat, filing her name in your mind. “If Han is putting on vaginal cream, does that mean that she’s going to be sleeping with her customer tonight?”

“Oh, no. That’s not how it works,” she asserts. She leans forward into the mirror and examines her fake eyelashes, checking to see if they’re secure. She notices that the inner corner of her right eye has begun to lift, and she grabs a small tube of eyelash glue from the edge of the vanity.

“We don’t usually sleep with our clients,” Cat remarks in a monotone voice, focused on applying the adhesive to her lash line. “And if we do, it’s because we choose to— not because they pay us to.”

“I see,” you reply, pulling out a composition book and pen from your bag. You open it to a new page and begin writing a transcript of the conversation. “And if that’s the case, then why wear Pussy Fairy, or vag cream, I guess?”

“The customers like it? I dunno,” she sighs as she screws the cap back onto the tube. Leaning back in her seat, she keeps one eye closed while she fans her eyelid. “Even though we don’t usually fuck our customers, they still get excited from knowing that we put on vag cream. It makes it seem like we wear it for them, gives them some sort of false hope. This illusion is enough to make them cum in their pants sometimes.” She throws her head back and cackles, humored by her own joke.

“So, how do I look?” she asks, flashing you a dazzling smile and fluffing her hair. She’s no doubt a conventionally attractive woman— curled chocolate brown hair frames her porcelain face; big, bright blue eyes sit just above her high cheekbones; and her rosy lips are always curled into a sweet smile or jutted into a playful pout. She’s also an American, a commodity in Japanese nighttime entertainment, and it’s safe to deduce that her good looks and her nationality have definitely helped her rise through the ranks to become the top earning hostess in the entire club.

“Beautiful,” you answer truthfully, resting your pencil in the spine of your notebook.

“Thank you,” Cat replies, her pretty features putting your nerves at ease. Perhaps that’s another reason why she’s paid so well— she’s able to make her clients, and anyone for that matter, feel at ease with her gentle expression. “You look gorgeous as well.”

You look down at the short and tight dress that hugs your body, giggling to yourself about the extravagant outfit you’re wearing. “I mean this dress is a little itchy around the nipples, but otherwise I think I look good!”

She laughs, “That’s why you wear boob tape!” Cat winks at you before standing from her seat, smoothing out the hem of her skirt before adding on, “You’ll do great tonight, newbie. You’ll get lots of juicy information to jot down in your research notebook. But pro-tip,” she bends down and gently snatches the book from your hand. “Don’t take notes while you’re speaking with customers— they won’t react too kindly to that.”

She delicately shuts the book and places it onto the vanity. “You gotta give them all of your attention. Listen to them intently and jot down any personal details that you remember after your shift. The key to being a successful hostess is being a good conversationalist and having a strong memory.”

“Got it,” you say as you reach out to grab your notebook, wanting to write down Cat’s advice, but she slaps your hands away. “C’mon rookie, what did I just tell you? No note taking until later! You’ll be fine; trust me!” She interlaces her fingers with yours and pulls you up from your chair, dragging you through the corridors and down the stairs.

As you step into the dimmed lights of the nightclub, it takes a few seconds for your eyes to adjust to the technicolor flashing lights that illuminate the dance floor and karaoke bar. Your eyes scan across the room and stumble upon Han, who’s already sitting hip to hip with her customer for the night— a tan-skinned Japanese businessman with blonde slicked-back hair. From the way that he’s sitting so casually in his seat, legs spread wide and arm draped around your pretty co-worker, he could easily be written off as the average Japanese salaryman. But when you inspect his get up more carefully, you notice that his suit is tailored to fit him perfectly, and that his giant watch catches the light and glistens brightly even in the poorly lit room.

Cat notices your gaze. “Oh, him? He’s a high-roller that always books Han. He doesn’t come as often as my man does, but I don’t think that means he’s any less interested in her. My guess is that his job requires him to travel a lot and he only visits when he has a chance.”

“Ah, I see,” you nod, continuing to take mental note of your surroundings. Everybody else in the club has been paired off or is starting to make their rounds at each table, but you and Cat remain standing away from all of the commotion. “And which one is your man?”

“He’ll be here soon,” she cheers. “I’ll introduce you two!” She sways from side to side, shifting her weight between her feet as she waits. Despite the bright smile that’s plastered on her face, you notice the way she subtly gnaws at her lip, a sign of her nervousness. “Stay with me until he arrives, okay?” she pleads, but you twiddle with your fingers, unsure of how to respond.

“I don’t know, Cat,” you reply hesitantly. “Everyone else is already starting to pair off, and I don’t want to be the only one left without a client for tonight. It’d kinda suck if I didn’t get to learn anything during my first night on the job. I’m sure he’ll be here so–”

“Wait,” she interrupts. She squints her eyes, her neck craned forward as she spots a familiar figure in the distance.

“Eek!!!”

Her squeal startles not only you, but also a few guests around you. They pay no mind to it though, resuming their conversations with their hostesses— regulars who are probably used to this frequent occurrence at the club.

“Haru!” Cat exclaims as she runs into the arms of a well-dressed man with light pink hair. He embraces her, holding her face into his chest as they rejoice in being reunited. His thumb caresses the back of her head for a bit before she pulls away, staring at the man and shooting him a frown.

“Why are you late? You know how anxious I get having to wait for you!” She stomps her foot on the ground, but when the man presses a kiss to her forehead, her displeased expression fades away.

“I’m sorry, my precious Cat,” he apologizes, fiddling with the ends of her long brown hair. “I got caught up with something,” he explains, stepping to the side and motioning to a man behind him.

The white-haired man stares at you with a blank expression on his face, his dark irises eyeing you curiously. He’s handsome— there’s no doubt about that— but his aura is a little intimidating. And it certainly doesn’t help that he makes no moves to introduce himself.

It’s only when Cat speaks that your silent stare off is cut short. “You brought a friend, Haru? How exciting!” She extends her arm to the nameless man. “My name’s Cat, short for Catriona!”

The man takes her hand and offers her a firm handshake. “Catriona, like this year’s Miss Universe?”

Cat nods coyly. “Well, it’s technically a pseudonym, but yes like the beauty queen!”

“A fitting name for such a pretty face,” is all he says before pulling his hand away. In your peripheral vision, you see Haru’s eye twitch slightly, but you don’t mention it.

“Anyways, Haru and I are gonna find a private booth to sit at. Why don’t you,” she turns her attention to you, flashing you a toothy grin, “take care of our esteemed guest?”

Her proposal catches you off guard, and wide-eyed, you agree to her suggestion. “Um, yes! Of course! You two go have fun!”

The couple begins to walk away with their arms linked, but before she walks off to another part of the club, she turns to you, mouthing a hasty ‘he’s cute!’ and flashing you a thumbs up.

Anxiety creeps up in your throat as you face the man in front of you. He resumes his slightly menacing disposition, and thoughts swarm in your mind, trying to decipher what he could possibly be thinking. Is he silent because he’s contemplating how to murder you? Or does he just not know what to say or do? If it’s his first time at a place like this, perhaps he’s just as nervous as you?

Though this thought is a little optimistic, you’re willing to buy into it if it helps you get through your first shift.

“Why don’t we find somewhere to sit?” you start, and the man simply nods and trails behind you. You lead him to a small booth, where he sits down and crosses his arms.

“Here’s our menu,” you suggest, gesturing to the pamphlet that rests in the center of the table. “We have a lot of food and drinks that might interest you, I heard that the–”

“Water’s fine,” he cuts you off, not even glancing at the menu. “And something sweet would be nice.”

“Sweet?” You don’t intend for your surprise to be so evident in your voice, but the stranger’s remark catches you off guard. “Anything in specific?”

“Taiyaki?”

You smile politely and nod, “Yes, we have that! At least, I think so! I’ll go check and bring some back if we do.”

As you turn to walk away, you can feel his eyes following you while you walk across the club towards the kitchen. It makes the little hairs on your nape stand up and your goosebumps rise. You were supposed to be the researcher tonight, but now roles have reversed— your odd customer makes you feel like you’re being examined under a microscope.

You approach another co-worker who’s stationed behind the bar. Violet is what she calls herself, taking after her favorite color; she’s an ex-hostess who’s only a few years older than the other girls at the club, but despite having retired from a life of night time entertainment, she still works at the club, choosing to educate and oversee the new recruits. Her curly blonde hair reaches down to the middle of her back, and her hazel eyes hold so much warmth in them. Black tattoos traverse the expanse of her arms and thighs, which she used to cover up while she was working as a hostess, but now shows them off in all their glory. Much like Cat, Violet is an American and once held the top earning position at the club a few years prior.

“What did Mr. Brooding order?” she asks sarcastically, reaching beneath the countertop to pull out two glasses. “Let me guess— scotch? Or perhaps cognac? Something strong that will help him forget his troubles?”

You shake your head and let out a giggle. “Nah, just water,” you reply, leaning on the counter top as she fills the glasses with ice. “And some taiyaki.”

“Interesting. I never would have taken Mr. Mysterious to have a sweet tooth,” she muses. “Usually men like that don’t want to be sober when they’re at a place like this. Makes them feel less guilty about cheating on their wives and stuff.” She begins to pour filtered water into the cups.

“I’m not sure if he’s married,” you retort, shaking your head upon remembering the awkward conversation (if you can even call it that, since barely any words were exchanged.) “I don’t even know his first name.”

“That’s how it is sometimes,” she admits, placing the filled glasses onto a tray. She continues speaking to you as she grabs a plateful of the desserts from the warmer. “Some guys are like that— reluctant to disclose any personal details. And it’s your job as a hostess to make him open up— and to make him open up his wallet, of course.”

“And how on earth am I supposed to do that?”

“I can’t help you with that, sweetheart. That’s all on you.” She emphasizes her words by pointing her tongs at you. “But listen to him. Flirt with him. And when you see your perfect opening, take it.” She places the plate of taiyaki onto the tray and hands it to you.

You exhale, “That’s cryptic, but thanks, Violet.”

“Anytime,” she winks; you’re about to walk away but then you turn around, whispering to her in a hushed tone.

“Also, Han mentioned earlier that Cat’s client is her ‘gangster sugar daddy?’ Is that a running joke that I’m unaware of, or is that true?”

Violet cackles, “Honestly, who knows. I don’t think even Cat knows what her ‘boyfriend’ does for a living. But enough of them.” Her arms shoo you away. “Get going before those treats get cold. I don’t wanna have to throw them away.”

You laugh before carefully weaving your way around the small crowd of people that has formed in the center of the club. A hostess and her client stand in the center of the floor, singing a duet of some popular 90s love song that’s a few pitches off-key.

“Here you go!” you say cheerily as you place the tray onto the table. He nods, grabbing one of the red-bean filled desserts off of the plate. You stand awkwardly, watching him munch on the pastry, when he catches your gaze and silently motions for you to take the seat next to him.

You sit down and introduce yourself. “And what’s your name?”

“I don’t give that out that easily,” he replies in between chews. You feel heat creeping up your neck and face, your blood pressure rising over your difficult client.

“Alright,” you let out an exasperated sigh. “Well then, what do you do for a living?”

“Why don’t we talk about you?” he urges, tossing the half eaten taiyaki back onto the plate.

“I’m sorry– what?”

“Let’s talk about you,” he repeats himself, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms. He cocks his brow at you, his lips curled upwards into a slight smirk. “Because in all honesty, you kinda stand out like a sore thumb at this establishment.”

Your patience snaps at his indignant comment. “And so do you,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “What kind of man shows up to a hostess club in a loose t-shirt and fucking flip flops?”

The man shakes his head and laughs dryly. “You got me there.” He uncrosses his arms and grabs a glass of water, eyeing you as he takes a sip. “And I wasn’t talking about what you look like, because you certainly look like a hostess, but you sure as hell don’t act like one.”

His words make your stomach twist. “What do you mean by that?”

He raises his glass. “Well first, a real hostess wouldn’t have just let me order water, which is free. She would’ve convinced me to upgrade to something more expensive, like scotch or cognac.” He places the cup down onto the table, the glass clinking on impact. “Second, a real hostess would’ve already started flirting with me, dropping love bombs and complimenting me any chance she got. And finally, a real hostess wouldn’t have snapped at me after one rude comment.”

“Fine,” you breathily exhale, raising your arms in surrender. “You caught me. I’m not a real hostess; I’m a grad student from the University of Tokyo doing research on hostesses.”

The white haired man finds amusement in your revelation, his shoulders rising and falling as he chuckles. “I fucking knew it.”

“Alright, now it’s your turn,” you snap back, hoping that you opened up enough for him to tell him something about himself. “What’s your name?”

“Woah, slow down,” he replies between labored breaths. He turns his body to face you, one of his legs propped up on the seat of the booth. “What’s your research about?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, contemplating on whether or not you should answer his question. You decide on doing so— there should be no harm in that, right?

“Well,” you start, furrowing your brows and biting your lip as you collect your thoughts. “There are a lot of misconceptions about hostess work, and it really doesn’t help that the Japanese government and foreign nations are cracking down on this group of people, making it harder for them to find formal employment. I just wanna do my research to dispel some of these myths and help fight to make their work environment better, even if it’s just a little bit. It’s a dog-eat-dog world for people who’ve fallen into this lifestyle.”

He nods his head a few times, reflecting on what you just said. “A dog-eat-dog world, huh?”

“Mhmm.”

You’re both silent for a moment, the sounds from the karaoke machine and people cheering filling your surroundings. He narrows his eyes at you, sizing you up— maybe even gauging your sincerity— but then his lips curl upwards into a soft smile, the first genuine one you’ve seen from him all night.

“That’s very admirable of you,” he admits. “Not a lot of people would leave the comfort of their social bubbles and choose to work in a place like this; most would probably do their grad research on something that could bring them money or fame. You might be a modern-day saint in our fucked up world.”

His final sentence makes you chuckle. “I’m no saint, but thank you.”

He stares at you quietly once more, and you feel your body growing warm. Leaning over the table, you grab a glass of water from the tray and take a sip. “What about you? What do you do for a living?”

“I can’t tell you that. If I did, I may have to kill you,” he jokes, and you shake your head and giggle.

“What? You don’t trust me?” you coo, leaning forward and cocking your head to the side.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” he responds slowly, “I just don’t think that you’d understand.”

“That’s fair. Maybe I wouldn’t,” you agree. His expression is softer now— his cheeks tinted a soft pink, visible even underneath the dim lighting; you’re certain that you’ve found your opening. You run your tongue along your bottom lip and ask another question, “Can you at least tell me your name?”

“I–”

“C’mon now,” you interrupt him. “I’ve told you a little snippet of my life story. The least you can tell me is your name,” you tease, gently tapping your knee against his.

He’s still for a moment, deciding on whether or not he should open up to you. He opens his mouth, a little croak slipping past his lips.

“M–”

He catches himself, immediately shutting his mouth. He turns away from you for a second, before facing you again.

“Ken,” he exhales. “My name is Ken.”

“Ken,” you repeat, voice airy. “It’s nice to meet you, Ken.”

He opens his mouth to speak once more, but is cut off by his friend standing at the edge of the table.

“Sorry to cut your time short,” Haru apologizes to you, bowing his head slightly. “But our buddy got into some trouble and needs us to help him out.” He motions to Ken, who kisses his teeth at the news. “You ready to go?”

“Do I have a choice?” Ken responds dryly. “Let’s go.” After pulling out his wallet and handing you a large bill, he stands, but you follow him.

“I’ll walk you out.” You smile softly, to which he nods.

You make your way through the crowds of couples; some men are too drunk to even sit up straight, taking a nap in the booth while their accompanying hostesses pat their faces with a damp towel. Cat and Haru walk ahead of you, just barely out of earshot; when you both reach the door, Ken opens it and steps outside into the bustling streets of the Red Light District.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Ken mutters just under his breath. “Our conversation was… refreshing.”

You giggle, “I’m glad you say that, because I feel the same way.”

He turns and begins following his friend, their figures growing smaller and smaller as they make their way down the street. Once he’s twenty paces away from you, you call out after him, making him stop in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Hey!!!”

He turns around and waves back at you, and from the streetlights illuminating his face, you can see that his lips are curled upwards into a faint smile.

“I hope to see you again soon, Ken!”

#red lights white lies #tokyo rev x reader #mikey x reader #tokyo rev smut #mikey smut #tokyo rev x you #mikey x you #tokyo rev fic #mikey fic #🎲.writes #🎲.fics

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astoldbychae · 8 months

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I have TWO lil scenes that I need to add the dialogue to, just sitting on my computer. 😩

• Deijah & Jaron on their lil beach vacation

• A night with Dino…*cough, cough* in the office.

They’ve just been collecting dust for weeks now. SEND HELP!

#I commend those that share their stories #teach me your ways PLEASE #life be life-ing…like it’s never lifed before #AND IM SICK OF IT #😫#now it’s almost time to get spooky

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raineandsky · 1 year

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#26

(Inspired by this post!)

“Ah, [Hero],” the villain greets with a confident smirk as the do-gooder appears in the doorway of the abandoned factory. “What a delight for you to join me.”

“Hey,” they open casually.

“I’m sure why you’re wondering what’s happening, but worry not, dear hero.” They start prowling up and down the little platform they’re on. “I’ll tell you all in a concise, seven minute monologue. Allow me to introduce myself. I am known as–”

“The Shadow Stalker,” the hero finishes flatly.

“I– yeah, that’s me.” The fact the hero knows who they are has thrown them off. Not to worry, they still have the other six and a half minutes of monologue left. “Well, I brought you here to–”

“Is it possible you’re going to use the power of shadows to blow this place up?”

Yes. “...No.”

The hero couldn’t look more bored. “Okay, well you have shadowy powers and you usually use them to fuck shit up, don’t you?”

How do they know this? The villain knows their heroes, and they’ve definitely never met this one before. “I’m sorry, am I allowed to tell you my plan or not?”

“Oh, sorry.” The hero holds their hands up in a mock apology. “Please, continue telling me how you’ll collect the shadows and point them to the biggest supporting column before making your great escape out of a second-storey window.”

The villain is speechless. “Excuse me?”

“Can we just skip that bit though? I can’t be bothered fighting you, Sam.”

The villain didn’t think they could go beyond speechless, but somehow they are. That’s their legal name. Their whole ass government name, dropped on them on the job. They daren’t ask, but their whole identity is on the line if their name is common knowledge—they have to know.

“Where did you get that name?”

“Hm? Oh.” The hero pulls out their phone, flipping it to show the villain a webpage they can’t read from this distance. “It’s on your Wiki page.”

“Wh–” There are several questions begging to be asked right now. “I have a Wiki page? Why is my legal name on it? What?”

“I dunno,” the hero says unhelpfully. “It has all your usual strategies on it, which is pretty handy, and your tragic backstory. Ah, I missed this before!” They laugh, turning their phone back uselessly again to show the villain an array of pictures they can’t see. “They have an evolution of your outfits through the years.”

“How?” is all they can get through the muddle of their mind at this new information. “Who’s been writing this thing?”

“Fans of your crimes, I guess.” The hero turns their gaze back down to their phone. “Very helpful. Read it in the car ride over.”

The villain sits on the dirty floor, uncaring to how their coat drags through the dust at the motion. They can feel their life collapsing around their shoulders. How many people know who they are because some freak put their identity on the internet? Should they be in hiding right now? How many heroes secretly know who they are?

They don’t notice the hero through their own distressed thoughts until they sit down next to them with a huff, their gaze on their phone in their hand. “So… does this mean we’re not having the big showdown?”

The villain scowls, holding their hand out expectantly. “You’ve thrown me off now. Let me see.”

The hero huffs a laugh as they pass the villain their phone, watching idly as they scroll through the page. “Nice. They sent me out five minutes before the end of my shift anyway.”

#writing #creative writing #writing community #writers on tumblr #writblr #heroes and villains #hero x villain #amazing writblrs i follow keep liking my stuff!! im crying!! yall are so cool aaaaaa

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honorarybuckley · 1 year

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maddie calls chimney first. he answers before the phone can ring even once.

“maddie? what happened? is he...” he can’t bear to complete that sentence. doesn’t want to jinx it with the word alive and can’t believe in a world where he’s dead.

“he’s waking up, howie.” a smile starts to bloom, heard in her voice and coloring her face with relief and awe. chimney lets out a whoop loud enough that he’s probably woken up jee. he doesn’t really care if he wakes up the entire world right now because the one person who needed to wake up the most finally has. albert runs in from the other room and chim gives him a thumbs up. albert smiles and leaves, presumably to tell sang and myung the good news.

“he started breathing on his own after a few seconds and now he’s in and out of consciousness. they’re going to want to do tests but everything looks good at the moment.” maddie sits on a chair in the waiting room, unwilling to stray too far from buck’s room or their parents’ sides. it’s the first time in days the space hasn’t been haunted by a stream of visitors for buck. she’d finally convinced everyone to wait at home for the news, knowing that the weight of their collective grief could level the hospital if things had gone the other way. she should know better than to underestimate her baby brother.

“when can we come see him?” chim asks, wiping a rogue tear off his cheek, already making plans. he’ll need to ask his dad and myung to watch jee-yun. albert will probably want to go to the hospital. his skin feels tight at the thought of leaving his daughter alone with his father even if it’s not the first time this week, but he knows that it’s the decision that makes the most sense and his need to see buck outweighs his discomfort at the moment.

“not until the morning,” maddie sighs, a knowing note in her tone that anticipates his impatience. “he'll be out of it for a while longer and then they won’t move him out of the icu until they’ve run all their tests. i will probably be home late tonight and we can come in together, ok?”

“got it.” chimney bounces on the balls of his feet, suddenly full of energy. he can wait eighteen hours. totally. “uh, what about you? do you need anything? what can i do?”

“i’m fine chim,” she promises, “but could you maybe call everyone else? i want to get back to him.”

“yeah, yeah. sure thing.” he makes his way to jee’s room to check on her just to have something to do with his body. “go back and give him our love. let him know the swarm is coming,” he laughs.

“thanks, chim, love you.”

“i love you too.”

—————

chimney knows he should start with bobby but the frenetic thrum in his blood needs to hear hen’s soothing voice so he dials her first.

“chim? has maddie called?” hen asks as soon as she picks up, steady as ever.

“he’s awake.”

instantly hen’s facade crumbles and without warning, she starts crying. karen rushes in from the kitchen at the sound, a potato peeler still in her hand. hen does her best to smile for her wife and it’s enough for karen. for now. she comes to sit with her and hen clings. for days she’s tried to be strong, be the support for everyone around her as they try to keep it together, only letting her fears out once she goes home to her wife at the end of the day. but with two words it all becomes dust.

“hen? hey, it’s okay. i said he’s awake,” chim repeats as if she’d heard him wrong. past her heavy breathing, she can practically hear him pacing. while she tries to pull the pieces of herself spilling out on the floor back together, chim keeps talking, excited and concerned.

“maddie says we can see him first thing tomorrow. they should have him in a room by then. i’m not going to bother with shifts, i doubt anyone would stick to them anyway. they’ll just have to deal with all of us." the pattern of hen’s breathing has calmed and she even chuckles softly at the mental image of the full force of the 118 crowding into a tiny hospital room. “he’s gonna be okay, hen.”

karen cups hen’s cheek in her damp hand and wipes a thumb through the path of her tears before kissing her once on each cheek. she silently slips back into the kitchen.

“i can’t believe it,” hen admits, the familiar haunting image of buck’s body hanging above them all invading her mind like an unwanted guest.

“i know,” chimney sighs. “one day his luck is gonna run out.”

they sit in the eerie, weighted silence that thought deserves for a moment.

“not today, though.”

“‘there is only one thing we say to death,’” chim quips. hen snorts and rolls her eyes but doesn’t respond. “ok, ok. well i need to go call bobby and eddie but could you do me a favor?”

warmed and only slightly surprised at being his first call, hen hums in affirmation.

“could you swing by the firehouse at shift change and let them know? i know collins wanted to come see buck and i bet there are a few others who’d like to tag along.”

“they’re going to kick us out, you know.” hen stands, ready to go tell denny the good news.

“let them try.”

—————

bobby is next and oddly doesn’t answer. he calls back before chimney can redial though.

“how is he?” a heavy door closes behind him and chimney can hear road noise nearby.

“where are you?” he asks, his curiosity enough to distract him.

“at church. chim, how is he?” bobby repeats, a thread of desperation in his voice. he sidesteps a couple entering the building, absentmindedly rolling his rosary between his fingers.

“oh, right, sorry.” chimney knocks his fist against his forehead twice. “he’s awake, cap.”

bobby’s breath gets caught in his throat, the world is abruptly knocked back on its axis and it nearly sends him to the ground.

chimney begins to wonder if he was really the correct person to be responsible for spreading this news. first he breaks hen and now bobby.

“bobby? are you ok? do you need me to come pick you up or something?”

“no, no i’m fine," bobby reassures, still breathless. “he’s awake.”

it isn’t a question but chimney responds anyway to help cement this moment in reality for them both. “yeah, he’s awake.”

bobby nods even though he knows chimney can’t see him. he stands frozen, caught somewhere between running home to athena and going back inside for another prayer, just in case, just to say thank you.

“so we’re all meeting at the hospital at eleven for visiting hours,” chim continues, not entirely sure bobby is listening. “i assume i’ll see you there?”

“i wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

—————

finally, it’s time to call eddie.

chim takes a moment to prepare himself, unsure of what to expect from this particular conversation. after very nearly breaking in the moments following the lightning strike, eddie had walked the halls of the hospital like a ghost in the following days. unable to enter buck’s room but unwilling to leave, he instead went on coffee run after coffee run and in between stared blankly into space as if he were already in mourning. in a way he was.

the phone rings once, twice, then a third and fourth time. chimney is expecting to hear eddie’s voicemail message when the call finally connects.

“yeah?”

chim freezes. eddie sounds even more rough than a breathless bobby, than hen after she broke down in tears. unable to see the stoic look on his face, chimney can better hear the pain in eddie’s voice. so sharp it cuts at chimney’s heart until it’s bleeding through his fingers.

eddie sucks in a deep, shuddering breath against the silence. “oh god.” he falls back onto his couch but it feels as though he’d missed it entirely and is just continuously falling. he’d known this was coming he’d just thought—

“oh shit, no eddie,” chim rushes to say. he definitely shouldn’t have been the one to make this call. “he’s fine. he’s awake,” he repeats for what feels like the millionth time today. it’s never felt more hollow.

eddie takes another deep breath and pinches the bridge of his nose to stave off the tears he can feel coming. it’s a losing battle. he roughly swipes at one when it begins to fall as his thoughts start to spiral.

images of buck swaying lifelessly just out of reach and laying so still hooked up to endless machines have all but painted over every happy memory eddie has of him, dimming his effortless light into something gray and isolating. he’s never felt as alone as he has in these past few days, even when surrounded by his family, there was always that empty space growing bigger.

but buck is alive and what’s more, he’s awake. his light is burning bright again and eddie would give anything to see it right now.

“eddie?” myung enters the kitchen and chimney quietly slips outside to offer eddie some privacy. “did you hear me?”

“yeah,” his voice breaks. another tear falls and this one he lets go, carving a path for others to follow. he’s glad carla isn’t back yet with chris. he needs time to pull himself together but for now, he lets himself feel it. to ache with the knowledge that just across town, buck’s eyes are finally open. “he’s awake.” he’s awake he’s awake he’s awake.

“yeah, buddy.” chim can tell that he needs to get off the phone soon. to let eddie process this news in his own way. “we can’t see him until the morning but we’re all heading over when visiting hours start.” it’s on the tip of his tongue to ask if eddie will be there but he knows there’s no need.

“i’ll have to pull christopher from school,” eddie says suddenly. “he’ll never forgive me if i don’t let him come.”

“yeah, probably,” chim laughs, surprised by the change in subject. it’s a good note to leave on he thinks. “well, i should probably go, unless...”

“i’m fine, man. promise,” he adds for good measure, scrubbing a hand over his face. “i’ll see you tomorrow.”

chimney says goodbye and eddie hangs up the phone letting it fall to the sofa beside him. tomorrow. it’s promised to no one, but just this once eddie is positive the sun will continue to rise.

#chimney han #maddie buckley #hen wilson #bobby nash #eddie diaz #firefam #911 #911 fox #fanfic #mine

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ghostlyyraccoon · 7 months

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Rational Chapter 2 (Kavetham Hanahaki AU)

Warning: graphic depictions of violence, blood, injury, explicit content

Ship: Kaveh/Alhaitham

Chapter: 2/2 Chapter 1

Summary:

Have you heard what they’ve been saying about the Academiya’s Scribe? Rumour has it he’s come down with a lung disease of the most curious kind! The whole House of Daena has witnessed him coughing up leaves and petals like crazy! Apparently, it’s been going on for several weeks, yet the Scribe refused to go see a doctor until his health took a sudden turn for the worse. Yesterday, he was found unconscious at his desk! Fortunately, the General Mahamatra and Light of Kshahrewar were closeby and able to bring him to the Bimarstan before anything worse could happen.

“I am not expected to be back at work until next week,” Alhaitham declared as he crossed the room, sitting down on the divan. For most, It would look like nothing more than a comfortable stroll, while for those more familiar with the Scribe, it would be hard to miss how much care he had to put into sitting down. “Nahida has strictly forbidden me from entering the House of Daena before I'm feeling better again. Apparently, it’s not enough for her that my assailants have been caught already.” Carefully, Alhaitham pulled his legs up, crossing them one over the other. “Well, you certainly won’t catch me complaining about the paid leave. Perhaps my time-out will finally be reason enough to look for an actual replacement for the Grand Sage.”

Kaveh followed him into the room, a packet of bandages in one hand, a jar of ointment in the other. He set both down before putting his hands on his hips, his gaze fixed on Alhaitham’s relaxed form.

“Contrary to you, Lesser Lord Kusanali has common sense and knows that some situations cannot be solved by brute strength alone. Let it taper off and then you’ll be free to do as you please.”

“It would please me to be indefinitely removed from the Grand Sage’s position,” Alhaitham replied drily.

Kaveh tutted his tongue. “Speaking of which, most people in Sumeru would kill to be in your shoes. Yet all you do is complain.” With a sigh, he sat down on the ground. As he continued to speak, he picked up the jar again, starting to unscrew the lid to check how much of the medicine was left inside. “People wouldn’t respect you as much if they knew how you act when you’re out of sight,” he mumbled.

Slowly, Alhaitham uncrossed his legs and leaned down. Within his reach was a book he’d abandoned on the ground several weeks ago. Luckily, Kaveh must have missed it the last time he cleaned up the living room.

He picked it up and blew off the dust that had settled on the cover. “It's too much of a hassle, really. It’s beyond me why anyone would choose this job out of their own free will.”

The jar was still halfway full, so Kaveh set it aside. “You know, most would see it as an honour,” he insisted. “I certainly would see it as such.”

“Well, I think we’ve established time and time again that I'm quite different from other people. All this job got me is unwanted attention, more work hours and a knife in the gut.”

Caught off guard, Kaveh almost dropped the lid. “Good grief, Alhaitham!” His voice caught in his throat. “I don't even know what to say to that.”

Without looking up, Alhaitham opened the book; he had dog-eared it the last time he read it. “That would be a first.”

“You-!” Kaveh took a deep breath to collect himself. “You're incorrigible. Now stop trying to distract me, I need to take a look at your wound.”

Slowly, Alhaitham peered over the edge of his book. “Don’t trouble yourself. I can do it by myself just fine.”

In spite of Alhaitham’s words, Kaveh refused to move. He simply waved the jar of ointment in front of his roommate’s face and raised his eyebrows. “Excuse me if I don't trust your levels of self-care after the stunt you just pulled. The multiple stunts you pulled, actually.” The expression on his face was determined. “Take your shirt off, I am going to check your wound.”

“You're acting like this is some form of punishment.” Alhaitham said. “Which would pose the question: Is it supposed to be my punishment or is it maybe yours after all?”

Kaveh watched him as he turned the page, a perfect picture of nonchalance. Using one hand, he pulled up his shirt, his gaze never straying from the page as he somehow managed to undress himself with almost no reading time lost .

With his eyes trained on the intricate letters, it felt easier to breathe. “There you go. Now stop talking nonsense and let’s just get this over with.”

While his eyes were still trained on one of the pages, his mind was somewhere else entirely. Internally, he braced himself for what was to come. Perhaps it would be easier to stick it out if Kaveh's fingers weren't already ghosting over his abdomen, the touch of his fingertips light like a feather.

“Considering how you chose to play down a near-lethal stab wound you’d more than deserve a little punishment. It kills me that you're probably enjoying this. It's abnormal. If I were stuck inside for weeks it’d drive me crazy.”

“Abnormal? I think I've heard that one before. You have got to try harder if you're aiming to be innovative.”

“You-!” For a moment, Kaveh mulled it over. “Lunatic! You're a lunatic.”

Alhaitham let out a low hum. “That one isn't new either, Kaveh.”

Kaveh threw his hands up in an annoyed manner. “Fine, I give up! People talk about you far too often,” he grumbled.

“And you don't count yourself among those people?”

Carefully, Kaveh took off the bandages, observing the scar with a clinical gaze. “I live with you. I have every reason to complain.”

“I believe Cyno and Tighnari would like to disagree.”

“Oh come on now, don’t act as if you never whine about me.”

“Not to them I don’t.”

“Which implies that you do talk about me, just not with them! Stop acting so high and mighty, Alhaitham. Remind me again which one of us got stabbed in a suspicious alleyway?” Kaveh put the used bandages away and mustered Alhaitham’s wound. Carefully, he let his fingertip run along the pink scar tissue and Alhaitham shivered.

When he received no answer, he kept on talking regardless. “Maybe this is your new strategy to keep me from working.”

“By getting stabbed?” Alhaitham tried his best to keep his breathing calm. “Next time I'll try to keep your timely restrictions in mind before getting assaulted.” Kaveh’s fingers, skilled and spindly as they were, were sending shivers down his spine. Alhaitham felt that sense of guilt he’d grown accustomed to bubble up again. These touches were not his to enjoy. Even more so, it would be unfair to Kaveh, an overstepping of boundaries, if he were to close his eyes and relish in the skinship. Growing up, Alhaitham had so little physical affection, now the mere thought of it was wish and fear alike. Perhaps he was the one being submitted to torture after all.

Kaveh's movements gradually slowed down until they came to a halt. When he started to speak again, his tone was nonchalant.

“Don’t act as if you have no idea what I’m talking about.” For a second, he seemed hesitant, his expression somewhat abashed. Then he cleared his throat, his fist raised to cover his mouth. “So,” he started, “there's something I’ve been meaning to ask you, and I believe you owe me one.” He busied himself with reapplying the ointment, the bandages remaining clean and unused on the table as the wound was already healed enough to leave them off entirely.

Deep down, Alhaitham knew this statement to be true, so he hummed in silent agreement. Distantly, he was aware of how pliant he was being, and partially, he knew to blame his illness for it. Perhaps he was also simply too tired to keep on fighting with Kaveh, especially when he knew there wasn't anything substantial to argue about. How much sense was there to arguments just for the sake of arguing when time was running through his fingers like sand?

Quietly, Kaveh screwed the lid of the ointment shut and placed it on the ground. The sound it made upon meeting the wooden planks rang through their living room with a dull thudding.

“Your illness,” Kaveh began, “why didn't you say anything when you found out? Tighnari, Cyno and I, would we not have supported you?”

The question didn't come as a surprise to him. After all, Kaveh was the one who had found him in his office back then, bloody and weak.

Alhaitham had enough sense to know that an apology was long overdue. Still, how much would an apology be worth if the worst was yet to come? How could he smooth things over when he knew for a fact that he would continue to hurt him? Even though Kaveh didn’t consider him much of a friend, much less so a lover, he'd be foolish to assume his death would be received with insignificance.

Alhaitham had already made his arrangements.The liyuean funeral director he had contacted had sworn him her utmost secrecy. Everything had been dealt with in advance. Kaveh would inherit the house and he most certainly wouldn't be too happy about it.

When Alhaitham first found out about his illness, acceptance had come faster than he’d expected. With the first petal lying in the palm of his hand, his heart beating fast, he'd thought to himself that time had been more than patient with him. It had been a thing of inevitability. Had their relationship been more clear-cut, perhaps he would have felt more guilt about his own transgression. After all, isn't friendship a mutual agreement to stay within the expected perimeters of the relationship?

It was an open secret that Alhaitham tolerated most people. Kaveh however, he accepted, with all his flaws and difficulties. His feelings had always been a race against time and finally, fate had caught up with him.

For Kaveh, the issue of Alhaitham's illness still remained unexplained. A part of him desperately wanted to talk about it, wanted to see how much he could tell without Kaveh catching wind of what truly happened back then.

Foolish as he was, he decided to indulge him. Perhaps his sickness had finally worn him down and made him weary with the way it always had him aching in one way or the other. If it wasn’t his body that was in anguish, then his heart felt more than compelled to do so in its stead.

“I found out quite some time before Cyno and you figured it out,” he admitted. “Six months.”

Kaveh’s eyes widened and his fingers that had been playing with his shirt's collar stilled. “Six months?! And you didn't-”

“I was undecided,” Alhaitham cut in.

Quietly, Kaveh sat down next to him on the divan, his face bathed in disbelief, his nose pale. “And you never even thought to confess? You never thought to confide in us?”

“I considered the repercussions and concluded that it would be pointless to tell. Why bother burdening them with the weight of my misplaced feelings?”

“That is wrong on so many levels, I don't even know where to start.”

Alhaitham turned his gaze towards Kaveh. “Then pray tell, if someone you didn't like confessed to you that they love you so much they're willing to die for it, what would you do? Let them down in kind when rejections of any kind could cause deadly harm? Or would you attempt to return the feelings and make everything worse?” His gaze was piercing. “It would be illogical and unnecessarily cruel.”

“I guess I would… try to see if the feelings could be mutual,” Kaveh replied reluctantly.

“And there you have your answer.”

The thought of Kaveh, once again riddled with guilt over something he had no hand in, had become a common visitor in Alhaitham's mind. It was a mental image he did not welcome; one that had overstayed its welcome months ago.

“And what if they loved you back and you just robbed yourself of your one chance at love?” It was the same debate they always ended up having all over again.

“It was an option I had already ruled out through thorough and time consuming research. I know them well and thus was able to come to my conclusion.”

“You know them well? Then I must know them as well, right? It's not like you have many friends.” Kaveh’s hands were balled into fists, digging into the fabric of his pants. “You still haven't told me their name.”

“And I will keep it that way,” he replied casually. “But it's true, you do know them.” It was a piece of information that came dangerously close to the truth.

Kaveh's lips were pressed into a tight line. “I guess it was idiotic of me to think your reasoning would be anything less than incomprehensible. Not that you've ever been one to change. The thought of you in a relationship? Preposterous. I must be out of my mind! You probably don't even touch yourself and would even less so allow someone else to do in return.”

Alhaitham turned his head to look at Kaveh, his patience wavering with each and every passing second. Sometimes, Kaveh's misinterpretations of his character did hit a nerve after all.

“Do you think I'm a saint? That I never fall infatuated, that I never wish for mutual affection, for physical closeness? That I choose to remain untouched? I may be a scholar but I'm not a eunuch, Kaveh.”

“Are you not?” he answered quickly, his voice suddenly breathless. “It’s not like I’ve ever heard y-”

“Isn't it unscholarly to just assume I never touch myself based on hearsay alone?”

“That’s- That’s most certainly not what I wanted to ask just now!”

Alhaitham was quite certain that was exactly what he wanted to ask about, all decency abandoned in the eye of his fiery nature. He watched the way Kaveh's Adam’s apple bopped up and down as he swallowed and readjusted his sitting position, his hand coming to rest over his lap. There was something about it that made his heart beat faster.

Now curious, Alhaitham's eyes wandered further down.

Kaveh was hard.

He swallowed deeply and resisted the urge to avert his eyes. Now this was an interesting development. An idea began to blossom in his mind.

“Oh?” he asked breathlessly, his eyes on the obvious tent in his roommate's pants. He couldn't stop himself from putting his book away to finally give him his full attention. “What’s gotten you so curious? Do you want to find out?”

Kaveh’s breath caught in his throat. “You're asking if I want to find out whether you're sexually active or not?! Why would I- How would I even-”

Alhaitham's gaze was heavy, his eyes half-lidded. “I think you know how. Don't play coy, Kaveh.” There was this age old curiosity in his chest, this need to be had by Kaveh just once before it all would come crashing down. Even if it would only be for the sake of lust, it would still be better than not having had him at all..

“But you- you have someone you love!”

“And I got the surgery for it,” he lied matter of factly. The flowers in his chest shifted uncomfortably. “So I’d consider this a non-issue.” Perhaps the looming number over his head was getting to him after all. Alhaitham was desperate. He swallowed down petals which were trying to fight their way up his throat.

Kaveh brushed his hair out of his face and watched him with unbelieving eyes. “You want me,” he concluded breathlessly. “Since when-”

“That hardly matters.”

Kaveh threw him a scandalized look. “It definitely does!”

“Why?”

“You're asking me why?! How can you be so cold about this?”

“I'm not being cold about it, I'm simply being pragmatic.”

“Keep your semantics where they came from. We're talking about sex here. And you just suggested us as-”

Alhaitham shoved all feelings aside and pushed through the tightness in his chest, putting all his embarrassment aside. Perhaps later on he'd be able to plead momentary insanity. “Then I'm going to spell it out for you. Do you want to fuck me or not?”

Kaveh looked seconds away from fainting. Aside from their heavy breaths, the room was completely silent.

“You just got hurt and-”

Alhaitham grabbed Kaveh by the wrist, looking him in the eye. “Just answer, Kaveh. It's a simple yes or no question.”

“Would you even let me touch you?” His voice came out sounding standoffish. “There’s no way you’d-”

“If it won’t kill you to do so? Sure.” The answer came quick, unfiltered. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“You-”

“You still haven't given me an answer. If you truly don't want to, feel free to reject me to your heart's content.”

Maybe it would kill him before his time was truly up, he thought. Of course, there was no way for Kaveh to know this. It was a prim and proper way out of a situation Alhaitham would never force him into. But if he were to agree…

Kaveh's cheeks were flushed red. Slowly, he lifted his hand and put it against Alhaitham’s cheek. Experimentally, he rubbed his thumb along his cheekbone. His eyes were big with wonder as he leaned in, his touches careful and new.

“Archons. Read between the lines, won't you? Just for tonight.”

Just for tonight. So Kaveh was at least willing to sacrifice that much. It wasn't a full commitment, but much rather one single night that could still easily be dismissed as a lapse of judgement on Kaveh's part.

Alhaitham felt like he was taking advantage of him regardless. For once however, his body and mind were in a state of incongruence.

Kaveh's hand was shaking as he pulled closer. “Can I … kiss you?” he eventually asked. It was unclear whether the question was directed at Alhaitham or himself.

Alhaitham leaned into the touch and closed his eyes, opening them only to watch his roommate from under his lashes. “I’d like to see you try,” he taunted.

Kaveh swallowed deeply and nodded to himself, for once at a loss for words. “Okay, sure. Yeah, I can-”

As soon as he got visual confirmation, Alhaitham closed the distance between them, making the choice for him. With his head tilted, he pressed his lips against Kaveh’s. A small sound left Kaveh’s lips, a mixture between a sigh and a sound of surprise. It didn't take him long to reciprocate. The kiss was careful, soft like a whisper in the wind.

It wasn't Alhaitham's first, but it certainly was his best. Not that he had much material to compare it to anyway. He could count the times people had kissed him on one hand. Alhaitham himself had never initiated a kiss before. Until now, that was. Some part of him was glad that Kaveh would be both his first and his last in that regard.

For a moment, he pulled away only for Kaveh’s hand to travel up his neck, finding refuge in his hair as he pulled him back in again. Their lips connected, this time with less curiosity and more desperation. When their noses bumped together, Alhaitham angled his head, opening his mouth to grant Kaveh better access. Their position was awkward as they were still sitting next to one another. For a short moment, Alhaitham felt soothed, the tightness in his chest replaced with a soft buzzing.

“Fuck it,” Kaveh then mumbled against his lips before swinging one leg over Alhaitham's lap, mounting him. They separated long enough for Kaveh to sling his arm around Alhaitham's neck before returning to it. One hand slid up to Kaveh’s waist, holding onto it for dear life.

He could feel Kaveh’s boner pressing against his bare stomach, but Alhaitham himself wasn't doing much better in that regard. There was a certain warmth filling his chest, swiftly travelling down his ribcage and for once, he found himself in an agreeable state of mind.

“When have you become so shameless, Senior?” he asked between breaths, a smile on his lips.

“Oh shut up you. You started this,” Kaveh mumbled against his lips as he slid his tongue in. Alhaitham welcomed it with open arms. They didn't separate and he let his hand travel up Kaveh's back, diving into the hole of his blouse that exposed his tight back muscles. Alhaitham had half the mind to admit that he’d been fantasizing about doing exactly so ever since he'd first seen Kaveh wear it, but decided against it.

Kaveh shivered against the touch, pressing himself even closer to his chest, his nose pressed against the soft skin of Alhaitham’s cheek as he halted for a moment to take a shuddering breath.

“You’re so sensitive,” Alhaitham mumbled next to his ear, his lips pressing against the skin beneath it for the shortest of moments to wander down, leaving a hot trail of kisses down to the base of his neck. Kaveh exhaled lightly and put his hand on Alhaitham’s neck, letting his fingers run over his pulse point.

“And you aren’t?” he replied, his voice uncharacteristically quiet as he closed his eyes and took hold of Alhaitham’s face, leading his lips back to his own. He stopped right before they could touch. “Tell me why you would want this,” he breathed against his lips. “I still don’t get what led to this. Tell me I’m not hallucinating.”

A chuckle escaped Alhaitham’s lips. “Do you feel like telling me what else you fantasize about in your freetime?”

He could feel Kaveh’s cheeks heating up at the taunt. “I don’t understand you at all,” he bit back.

“This is real. What reason would I have to ask for something I do not agree with?”

Seemingly, this was all that Kaveh needed to hear as he buried both hands in Alhaitham’s hair and kissed him with a fervour and with such a sudden intensity that Alhaitham felt his mind going blank. Kaveh tugged at his hair, lightly, carefully, and Alhaitham barely managed to suppress a groan.

Carefully, he untucked Kaveh’s shirt so he could let both hands roam freely while Kaveh’s mouth traveled further down to trail kisses along his jaw. The feeling of Kaveh's rib cage under his fingertips was a welcome distraction.

When Kaveh reached the side of Alhaitham’s neck, he bit his skin lightly, waiting for a response before placing a soothing kiss on top. Quietly, he sucked a hickey against his pulse point and Alhaitham let him. Even if nothing else but the memory remained, at least the marks would be a reminder to bridge over his last days.

As Kaveh continued to suck mark after mark on his skin, Alhaitham regained what little remained of his common sense. A shuddery breath escaped his lips as he opened his mouth, his own erection now barely hidden. “Let’s take this…” he started, but was then interrupted as a gasp escaped his lips when Kaveh sucked at an especially sensitive spot below his ear.

Kaveh’s head shot up, the expression on his face incredulous, his pupils blown wide. “Archons, that was hot,” he blurted out to immediately move closer again, his hands cupping his face as he recaptured Alhatham’s lips. Alhaitham wrapped his arm around Kaveh’s waist and pulled him closer, one hand wandering further down until it came to rest right above Kaveh’s ass. He let it wander further down, giving it an experimental squeeze and when Kaveh took in a shuddery breath at the touch, he ground his ass further against Alhaitham’s now undeniable erection.

Between kisses, Alhaitham tried to find room to talk. “Let’s take this to the bedroom,” he eventually managed to offer. Of course, he’d have nothing against getting his world rocked on their living room divan. Archons, he’d most definitely fantasized about it before, but there was a certain part of him that wanted this done properly. Also, there was another part of him that remembered the kind of back pain he tended to get after long reading sessions on the divan and concluded that he didn’t need a repeat of that right now.

Kaveh scrambled off him and grabbed his wrist, pulling Alhaitham with him as they headed towards his room. His pointer rubbed along Alhaitham’s skin, ghosting up and down as if he were afraid the loss of touch would break the magic of the moment.

As soon as they were inside, they didn’t even care enough to close the door behind them. Who was there to see them anyway? This was their home.

They stumbled into Kaveh’s sheets, Kaveh going first and pulling Alhaitham with him. “Now where were we?” Alhaitham pondered and Kaveh made a face, but chose to stay quiet for once. Instead, he goaded Alhaitham closer. “I think,” he began, “we were in the middle of something.”

“And what would that have been?”

Kaveh shut him up with his lips, his eyebrows slightly creased. He pushed Alhaitham further into the bed, crawling on top of him. Alhaitham realized that he didn't mind lying beneath him at all. The weight of Kaveh’s body on top of his own felt strangely grounding. Kaveh's arms were caging him in and he felt safe.

In bed, Kaveh was the same as he was in a heated argument: Overly eager and passionate to a fault. His hands wandered down towards Alhaitham's waistband, slipping underneath the tight fabric. Carefully, his fingertips started to explore all the edges and ridges, travelling over strong hip bones and his v-line, coming dangerously close to his boner.

“How do we want to do this,” he mumbled, halting momentarily.

Although Alhaitham would be fine either way, he had a specific image in mind. He hooked his leg over Kaveh’s waist and flipped them over to tilt Kaveh’s head to the side with his pointer. Although his expression was gobsmacked, Kaveh let him. Alhaitham's nose brushed over the sensitive skin on his neck as he leaned in close to whisper in his ear. “Haven't I said it before? I want you to fuck me.”

Kaveh stared up at him, his lips parted and eyes glazed over with want.

When there was no answer, Alhaitham pressed his lips against Kaveh’s neck, leaving a particularly dark hickey right where everyone would be able to see it. Kaveh let out a shuddering breath, his eyes closed.

When he opened his eyes again, his cheeks were flushed. He turned his head to the side before looking up at Alhaitham again. “Leave it to you to be this unromantic.”

“Next time I’ll light a candle or two.”

“Because a candle would fix things.”

Alhaitham laughed quietly and put his head down against Kaveh’s chest, but not before pressing a soft kiss against it.

“What else would you expect from me then?” It was a ridiculous thing to ask, perhaps even masochistic to a degree, since Kaveh had stated quite clearly that their sexual encounter would be a one time only thing. Alhaitham swallowed the hurt and turned it into blossoms against Kaveh’s skin when he didn't answer. As Alhaitham travelled further down, Kaveh’s eyebrows knit together and his tongue darted past his lips. It was a beautiful sight and Alhaitham ached. He mouthed at the cloth keeping him separated from Kaveh’s cock, rubbing his cheek over it.

“What are you doing?” Kaveh mumbled as his hand buried itself in Alhaitham’s hair, running through the silky tresses. Alhaitham closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation. After a moment, he hummed in reply.

“Didn't you want to-”

“Get fucked by you? Yes, all in good time.”

Kaveh let out a frustrated noise. “Argh! Stop saying it like that, it’s weird hearing it come out of your mouth!”

Alhaitham leaned on his elbow. One hand travelled up, caressing Kaveh’s chest, grazing over his rosy nipple and pinching it slightly, while the other began to undo his zipper. Kaveh’s cock sprung free, and it was nothing less than a sight to see. Alhaitham whistled through his teeth.

“Don’t even start,” Kaveh pleaded from parted lips. Alhaitham removed his hand and Kaveh cracked an eye open almost immediately.

“I was simply going to comment on how you are incredibly well endowed for a man of your stature. Studies say-

“Oh my god, just shut up!” Kaveh whined, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow.

Alhaitham took the opportunity to place a soft kiss against the shaft, looking up to observe Kaveh’s reaction. It was obvious he had felt it from the way his hips twitched and his lips parted. When Alhaitham ran the flat of his tongue from the base up to the tip, slowly and testingly, Kaveh’s resolve to stay quiet seemed to crumble. His lips moved quietly, spelling out a flurry of words. A shaky breath escaped his lips.

Alhaitham added his hand, stroking it up and down as he lowered his head. After all, there was no one who knew how to rile Kaveh up quite like him. After a few more pumps and a few more loving caresses of Kaveh’s ballsack, Alhaitham opened his mouth and took Kaveh’s dick in. It was hot to the touch and slightly salty to the taste. Experimentally, he swirled his tongue around, lapping at the head.

“Alhaitham!” The sound that escaped Kaveh’s lips came out sounding half-scandalized, half-breathless.

Alhaitham hummed at the call of his name and their eyes met. Kaveh’s eyes were watery, half-lidded and glazed over with lust. Alhaitham made sure not to break eye contact as he sank down further. Kaveh’s dick hit the back of his throat, but he felt challenged to take it even further. For a moment, he breathed in through his nose, forcing his throat to relax as he welcomed Kaveh in. Once the feeling of discomfort started to subside, he started bopping his head further down, his hair falling into his eyes. All of a sudden, Kaveh’s hand was in his hair, pushing it back for him and pinning it behind his ear with care.

“Where did you-” Kaveh gasped, his voice raspy. “ Where did you learn to do that?”

Alhaitham hummed in the back of his throat and pulled back again before sinking down further. Kaveh’s grip on his hair tightened and Alhaitham felt the desire burning hot in his abdomen when Kaveh’s dick twitched inside of his throat.

“I think I’m gonna-”

Alhaitham lifted an eyebrow, his sight set on Kaveh and Kaveh alone as he picked up the pace.

Kaveh’s hand tapped his head, slow at first, then more urgently. Alhaitham slid his hand over Kaveh’s thigh, gripping it, giving it a reassuring squeeze as he swallowed around Kaveh’s twitching cock and welcomed the warm cum shooting down his throat, accompanied by Kaveh’s groan of relief. Alhaitham watched the way his eyelids fluttered shut as he orgasmed. When the twitching calmed down, Alhaitham pulled off with a pop, the taste of Kaveh’s cum still strong on his tongue.

“Archons, Alhaitham.” Kaveh propped himself up again, his chest heaving up and down as he ran his hand through his disheveled hair.

“I thought you wanted me to shut up? That’s what I did,” Alhaitham replied nonchalantly as he wiped his mouth.

Kaveh leaned forward, his hands still shaky from his orgasm as he reached around Alhaitham’s neck and pulled him in for a deep kiss. It was a sloppy, needy thing. The kiss was enough to remind the roots residing in Alhaitham’s lungs to tighten their grasp.

Although they hadn't set any boundaries, it was strange to be able to kiss Kaveh without any repercussions and even stranger to be kissed back so passionately. Alhaitham knew that there would be no coming back from this once the night was over. He swallowed the cough that was threatening to escape.

Kaveh’s hand started to wander, first exploring Alhaitham’s tight back muscles, then wandering down to find refuge in the small of his back. The sensation made Alhaitham’s skin tingle. Then Kaveh’s hands travelled further down, grabbing onto Alhaitham’s ass.

He had been staying quiet for a while now and it was putting Alhaitham on edge. The roots in his chest were starting to stir again, unruly and nervous, edging him on to say or do something to make it all better, to change the fate he had already come to terms with.

When Kaveh’s lips went off track, pressing down against his cheek, along his jawbone and up behind his ear, Alhaitham tilted his head, deciding to simply relish in what he was given.

Kaveh nibbled at the sensitive skin near his throat, leaving another mark. While they were lost in each other's touch, Kaveh reached behind without looking back, struggling as he tried to open the drawer near his bed to pull out a small ampoule. He threw it onto the bed next to them. “Lube,” he explained.

They both reached for it at the same time.

“Let me help,” he started, when at the same time, Alhaitham opened his mouth as well.

“I can do it myself just fine.”

Kaveh’s hands slid up his throat, coming to rest there. “You-” He cleared his throat. “You sucked me off. Let me return the favor.”

Alhaitham let out a deep breath. The thought of Kaveh’s fingers, rough and skilled as they were, buried inside of him, was enough to make his heart thump at a faster pace. “Also… it’s embarrassing that I’m the only one who’s completely naked.”

Alhaitham’s eyes wandered down again.

“Hey! Are you even listening to me?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. I was just distracted for a moment.”

“Distracted? You were definitely staring. Stop staring! Okay that’s it!” Without any warning Kaveh pushed Alhaitham down against the mattress, his hands firm on his shoulders.

Decidedly, he let both hands slide further down, from Alhaitham’s broad chest down to his pants. When he undid his zipper, his hand brushed over his bulge and Alhaitham shivered, his hips bucking upwards to chase the feeling.

Kaveh took note of the movement, but returned to the task at hand. It was a struggle to get Alhaitham out of his pants, but in the end he managed to pull through. Alhaitham was propped up on one elbow, watching the way Kaveh sat face to face with Alhaitham’s black briefs.

“Chickening out?”

Kaveh threw him an annoyed look as he hooked his thumbs under the expensive fabric, his fingernails grazing Alhaitham’s skin as he pulled the piece of clothing past his hips. Alhaitham’s cock sprung free, the cold air hitting it with a vengeance.

“Of course you have to be flawless in that regard too,” Kaveh mumbled.

“What was that?”

Kaveh let out a deep breath and ran his hand along his temple. “Come here.”

“What for?” When Alhaitham didn’t follow suit, only leaning back further to throw Kaveh a taunting look, Kaveh wrapped his arms around his thighs and pulled him closer.

“Can you at least try not to be actively difficult?”

“But where would be the fun in that?”

Kaveh took the ampoule and unscrewed it, pouring a generous amount of lube into his palm. He made sure that his fingers were properly coated before he moved closer.

“I’m about to enter you and you really think this is the time to be joking?”

Alhaitham spread his legs a bit wider when Kaveh came to rest between them. The feeling of Kaveh’s lube-coated finger circling his hole was strange, but not unwelcome. When Kaveh’s free hand slid up his thigh, massaging it slowly, reassuringly, Alhaitham relaxed. A part of him wanted to slide his hand over Kaveh’s, wished to entangle their hands to keep them connected, but he knew he’d be crossing an invisible boundary if he were to do so. Instead, he buried one hand in the pillow above his head and nodded at Kaveh to keep going.

Kaveh applied some more lube before he positioned his pointer and carefully applied more pressure to push it in. As he rubbed soothing circles into Alhaitham’s thigh he managed to push past the tight ring of muscle and kept going until he was more than knuckle-deep. He started to move his finger at an agonizingly slow pace, meticulous in execution as he tried to get Alhaitham used to the feeling. The sensation was neither good nor bad, so Alhaitham found no problem with it. Of course, he had tried fucking himself on his fingers before, but it was a different story when it was somebody else doing it to you. A minute passed.

“Kaveh, add another,” he simply said when he felt ready. Kaveh looked up at him for a short moment, his gaze focused. He pulled out and added the second finger without any issues. The stretch felt sweet and did not sting thanks to the lube. It was a feeling of fullness Alhaitham rarely got to experience. The fact that it came from Kaveh’s fingers alone made his erection feel almost painfully stiff. He’d been hard for a while now and the lack of relief was becoming more apparent by the minute. Alhaitham noticed his thoughts becoming more hazy and all over the place. When Kaveh curled the two fingers, grazing past an especially sensitive bundle of nerves, his eyes fell shut, and his fist tightened around the pillowcase. A low sigh escaped his lips. Kaveh’s movements slowed at the sound. He turned his head, lowered it and pressed a quick kiss against his thigh.

“Are you okay?” he asked after.

It took Alhaitham a moment until he was able to form proper thoughts again. “Add another one.” There was a quiver to his voice that he wasn’t used to.

Kaveh obliged. “Wait a moment, I think it’s a bit…”

Alhaitham grunted in response at the first wave of discomfort. “Tight. Use more lube.”

Kaveh did as he was told and tried again, this time with even more care. Slowly, he added finger number three, pushing it past that tight ring of muscles to join the first two. Once the worst part was over, Kaveh went back to pressing kisses against Alhaitham’s thigh as he started to scissor him open. When he was knuckles-deep again, spreading and pumping his fingers to ease what was about to come, he sucked a dark mark into the skin of Alhaitham’s thigh. A moan, low and breathy, escaped his lips and his untouched dick twitched with the first pearls of precum.

Kaveh continued to prepare him thoroughly. “Hey,” he mumbled against Alhaitham’s thigh that was starting to bear the first few dark marks. He pressed another sloppy kiss against the sensitive inside and Alhaitham shivered.

Begging was far too much effort, but if Kaveh kept going like this, perhaps he’d have to reconsider.

Alhaitham grabbed Kaveh’s chin and turned his head. “If you keep this going I’m going to come.”

Kaveh continued to push his fingers in deeper, curling them towards the end, making Alhaitham quiver. As usual, Kaveh showed himself annoyingly averse to his suggestions.

“Kaveh.” Alhaitham propped himself up further, the feeling of Kaveh’s fingers inside him now so much more sweet and taunting. He had half the mind to press into the touch. “Won’t you give me your huge cock, Senior?”

Kaveh’s movements stilled and his ears flushed bright red.

Carefully, he pulled out his fingers before pulling Alhaitham in for a long kiss. “I can’t believe you,” he mumbled against his lips, his breath hot. “How can you just say stuff like that, are you not embarrassed?!”

“Not in the slightest, no.”

Alhaitham pushed Kaveh onto his back, all patience lost in the heat of the moment. “Stop wasting our time.” He straddled Kaveh’s hips, his dick, already hard again, lying nestled in-between Alhaitham’s ass cheeks. Teasingly, he rubbed his ass against Kaveh’s boner. Kaveh threw his head back. “Okay, okay, I got it. Let’s do this.”

Alhaitham lifted his hips, Kaveh’s dick now lined up with his entrance. He squeezed a generous amount of lube onto it, smearing it across the tip just to see the way it made him squirm. His free hand was splayed across Kaveh’s chest, pinching his nipple as he started to lower himself onto Kaveh’s dick.

The stretch was good, slightly uncomfortable at first, but not painful. Kaveh let him go at his own pace, allowing him to get used to the feeling. He rubbed his hands over Alhaitham’s thighs in support. Alhaitham grabbed them, guiding them to rest on his hips instead. Kaveh was now halfway buried inside, and Alhaitham’s patience was running thin. He breathed in through his nose, out through his mouth and let one hand slide over Kaveh’s, grabbing onto it as he sank down to the hilt.

Once he was fully settled, a strange feeling started to fill him up. Alhaitham was rarely one to get emotional, yet all of a sudden, he felt like he was close to tearing up. It was a certain kind of closeness he had never gotten to experience with Kaveh before. He turned his head away, coughing shortly as Kaveh ran his hands over Alhaitham’s ass, kneading his toned cheeks.

Without any warning Alhaitham leaned forward, capturing Kaveh’s lips with his own. As he leaned forward, he felt the pull at his rim as their position changed and Kaveh bucked his hips to accommodate for it.

“Jesus, you’re tight,” he breathed out between kisses. Alhaitham began to lift his hips slowly, releasing Kaveh’s cock just to push his hips back down again. Kaveh’s cock reached deep down, brushing a sensitive spot, making Alhaitham swallowed deeply, all words lost to lust. When he lifted his hips again he pulled out too far and Kaveh’s cock slipped out.

When he reached around to slip it back in, Kaveh stopped him.

“Let’s switch positions. You’re still recovering.” He sat back up, his legs crossed, and pulled Alhaitham onto his lap, his back flush against Kaveh’s chest. Kaveh testingly pushed his fingers back inside Alhaitham’s hole, stretching it some more. A low moan escaped Alhaitham’s lips and he let his head fall back as his vision threatened to blur.

“Get on with it, Kaveh,” he groaned, his impatience barely hidden.

Kaveh pressed a hot trail of kisses along his neck as he pulled out his fingers and lined his cock back up with Alhaitham’s hole. “Stop being so impatient,” he mumbled back and pressed past the tight ring of muscles. “Aren’t you the one who always preaches that patience is a virtue?”

As soon as Kaveh was buried inside of him again, Alhaitham pushed his hips down to swallow him whole. It was a nice feeling that was only disturbed by the urgency of his erection and the shortness of his breath. He started to bounce up and down and Kaveh met him along the way, thrusting where he couldn’t reach.

“There's no scar, I thought there'd be one,” Kaveh suddenly mumbled as he pounded into him. He let his hand run along the sensitive skin of his chest, letting it run down until it reached his abdomen, ghosting over the fresh pink scar. “There's only this one,” he mumbled. “And this one, I remember well.”

Kaveh buried his face in the crook of Alhaitham's neck, breathing in deeply as he kept talking in spite of Alhaitham’s silence. “You smell like mourning flowers…” he mumbled. “They've always been my favourite.”

Alhaitham suppressed a cough, trying to focus on the sensation of Kaveh's cock buried to the hilt inside of him. He threw his head backwards until it rested against Kaveh’s shoulder and let out a shuddery breath. A bead of sweat ran down his temple.

“You talk too much. Get on with it,” he said impatiently, trying to press his hips down further until Kaveh caved in, snaking one hand up Alhaitham’s bare chest as he returned to his rhythm and gave a proper thrust.

“Yeah, yeah,” he murmured into Alhaitham’s neck, pressing open mouthed kisses against it as he tried to maintain a steady rhythm. “Maybe you just don’t talk enough. Have you ever considered that? Wait, scratch that. I don’t need you running your mouth more than you already do.”

“Which one is it,” Alhaitham forced out between heavy breaths. “Do you want me to shut up or be more vocal?”

Kaveh ran his tongue along the salty skin on Alhaitham's neck and wrapped his arm around his torso, pulling him even closer. When Alhaitham let out a shaky breath, Kaveh's lips curled into a smile against his skin. His next thrust hit the bull’s eye. With this new angle, Kaveh now had perfect access to reach that sensitive bundle of nerves. He gave another big thrust and Alhaitham left out a stuttering breath as the tip of his cock leaked with more precum. His heartbeat was fast, almost erratic now as he felt himself teetering closer and closer on the edge.

The hold Kaveh had on his body was warm and reassuring. As Alhaitham found himself surrounded by Kaveh’s scent, the reality of the situation suddenly set in. Kaveh was fucking him, for the first and only time, and Alhaitham would soon see the light for it. That annoying tightness in his chest returned with a vengeance when Kaveh kissed his neck and nibbled at the sensitive skin, mouthing words he didn’t understand against his skin.

He couldn't take this much longer. Alhaitham moved his hips to accompany Kaveh’s thrusts, attempting to chase his finish with a newfound desperation. Kaveh seemed to notice, since his grip tightened and his thrusts turned more targeted. His hand traveled further down, coming to rest flat against Alhaitham's abdomen, caressing it, pressing down on it. The next thrust hit just the right spot and finally, Alhaitham felt his orgasm, tight like a fist, coming in strong as Kaveh gave a few last shaky thrusts, pulling Alhaitham's waist down one last time until he spilled inside of him.

Alhaitham felt a tear roll down his cheek. Then, a wetness coming from his nose followed. It dripped down his chest, down his leg as he tried to take in a deep breath and found himself unable to. The tightness in his chest wasn't something he could simply ignore anymore. It was urgent now. Alhaitham coughed again and a rain of petals spilled as the post-orgasm exhaustion hit him.

“Alhaitham, what…” Kaveh's voice sounded strangely far off.

Alhaitham pulled off Kaveh's cock, the sudden emptiness nauseating, the dribble of cum running down his inner thigh strange. In a daze, he wiped his cheek before turning back around.

Kaveh was leaning back, one hand lifted and his mouth open in shock. Alhaitham simply stared back at him. The room was dead silent.

“You never got the surgery in the first place,” Kaveh stated, his voice shaky and raw. For once, Alhaitham found no words to say. There was nothing that would fix what he had just broken anyway. “Don't you know that this could kill you?! I can't believe you right now. You lied not only to me, but to all of us! It could still kill you! As always, all you care about is yourself!”

Alhaitham turned to look at him and remained quiet.

“I'm going to get washed up.” His thighs were still shaking from the strain and he almost stumbled when he got up, picked up his underwear and left Kaveh behind on his bed.

Alhaitham was staring down his reflection in the mirror. When making a detrimental decision, he rarely ever considered his own emotions to be a contributing factor. Now, for the first time, he found himself wondering if maybe he should have done so after all.

It was supposed to be a one-time thing. A washing of hands, if one might say so. A quick and easy release. It was supposed to be his one chance to witness what it might be like to be loved, to be wanted by Kaveh, if only for the duration of a single night. Now, Kaveh's words tasted like iron on his tongue, heavy and red.

The moment he dropped the suggestion, Alhaitham had known he was done for. Yet still, Kaveh hadn’t scoffed at the suggestion, didn’t laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. Something about it must have tempted him. For once, Alhaitham couldn’t understand Kaveh's reasoning.

Now, the cat was out of the bag and there was no way to shove it back inside. His chest felt tight, constricted, his hands were shaking as he grabbed onto the sink for dear life. There was a certain kind of nausea filling his gut, making him feel uncomfortably close to fainting. Perhaps this was it.

Alhaitham took a good look at his dishevelled presence in the mirror; he should clean himself up. Normally, he'd scoff at the stickiness of it all, bail from the sensation. However, he was far too aware of the fact that once he got out of the shower, most traces of what had taken place would be gone. The marks on his skin would vanish in no time, leaving nothing but painful memories behind. It would be just another thing for Kaveh to regret.

For once, Alhaitham felt his unwavering psyche crumble, his body still warm from his orgasm, his skin abandoned after having been cherished too dearly. There was so much he still craved and so little left to take. Then his legs, traitorous things that they were, gave in. Alhaitham had enough sense to cling to the edge of the bathtub with one hand as he swayed backwards. The flower that had been lodged in his chest, kept there for safekeeping, finally threatened to break free.

There was no way for him to breathe. A choked sound escaped his lips as he tried to cough it out, but it wasn't enough. A trickle of blood escaped his nose, dripping onto the bathroom tiles. Alhaitham could feel the sound repeating in his head like a taunt.

With shaky fingers he reached inside his mouth and broke the flower free. It dislodged after a painful tug, landing next to his side. The inside of his throat felt raw and open. His breathing was flat and painful.

All he wanted was Kaveh. Alhaitham felt like a petulant child with how often the thought seemed to run through his mind as of late.

And what now? He had gotten what he wanted, hadn't he? What was there left to unearth and ruin?

Another mourning flower was quick to follow. They were Kaveh’s favourites. What a joke.

For a moment, Alhaitham allowed his head to drop into his hands. He had taunted and teased, had kept his heart locked away behind the doors of a glass house. Finally, he had allowed Kaveh to fill him up and hold him close, the traces of him still sticky against his skin. Perhaps it was time to accept that he’d finally reached his breaking point.

For the first time in years, Alhaitham felt the need to cry. The last time he did was when his grandmother had passed. A tear slipped past the hand that had come to cover his eyes. Another whole flower broke free, a particularly big one, and it wasn't pretty. He was exhausted, the marks on his skin a grim reminder.

Alhaitham couldn't say how long he'd been sitting on the bathroom floor until he heard a knock.

He did not move, just sat there even when he heard someone enter the bathroom.

Still, he refused to look up. There was a sharp intake of breath cutting the silence of the room in half.

Then, familiar hands slid over his own, carefully prying them off his face.

“Hey.” There it was. Of course, it just had to be him again.

“What is it,” he replied. His own voice sounded strange and foreign to him, void of any emotion. Reluctantly, he pried his eyes back open. Kaveh was staring at him, his eyebrows knit together and eyes wet, so full of worry that it made him nauseous. Despite his overly emotional disposition, Kaveh was rarely one to cry. From time to time there would be this deer in the headlights look on his face that Alhaitham deeply disliked for various reasons, but Kaveh never cried. This was different.

Carefully, almost like one would approach a wounded animal, Kaveh lifted his hand. “Let's get you-”

“No.”

“Alhaitham-”

“Leave it.” Harsh words were followed by an even harsher cough. Petals, bloody, sopping wet and weeping, were trying to break free. “Don't concern yourself with this.”

“Why didn't you get the surgery?” Kaveh exclaimed, his voice rising with emotion. His hands were balled into fists by his side.

A sound escaped his lips, a mix between a cough and a scoff.

“Did something go wrong, were there any complications? You must’ve had a reason aside from your infuriating bullheadedness.”

“I didn't get it because I refused to,” Alhaitham confessed calmly.

“You're still not over-”

“How could I be?”

Kaveh reached for Alhaitham's hand, but he pulled it away before he could reach it.

“Then why did you sleep with me?! Answer me, Alhaitham!”

“What do you want me to say? That I should’ve known better? I am perfectly aware of that already.”

“Who is it?”

After all that happened tonight, Kaveh still managed to remain stubbornly clueless. A dry chuckle escaped his lips. “Your head isn't solely for decorative purposes. Use it.” The words came out sounding too raw, too close to the truth.

When Kaveh tried to reach for Alhaitham again, he paused.

Alhaitham coughed up another bloody petal into his palm and Kaveh just stared. Carefully, he reached out and pried Alhaitham's bloody hand open. His fingernails scraped against his palm as he picked up the petal, turning it over in his hand until something in his brain finally clicked.

“Mourning flowers,” he repeated, the words he'd uttered in the heat of the moment begging to make sense as clarity hit him. “They’ve always been my favourite,” he said slowly, his voice breaking at the realization. A minute passed. “Tell me that I'm wrong. Come on, tell me my conclusion is incorrect. You're so quick to do it any other day.”

When Alhaitham's gaze remained fixed to the opposite wall, Kaveh swallowed thickly. “You are being serious.”

Alhaitham avoided making eye contact with him, his eyes lined red. Another droplet of blood escaped his nose and he let it drip, lacking both the energy and the will to clean it up again. The liquid ran past his lips, over his chin and down onto his chest. There would be so much more to come, so what would be the use to clean it up now? His only regret was that Kaveh was there to witness it all. Despite himself, his eyes felt heavy.

Finally, Kaveh couldn't take it anymore. He sat down across from him, the bathroom tiles cold against his thighs as he inched closer. He closed the distance between them and without asking, he pulled Alhaitham into a tight embrace, his head burying into his shoulder.

Alhaitham's head fell against his chest.

Words he couldn't hear were uttered against his skin and he allowed them to rest there in the space between their bodies.

“Why do you insist on suffering for my sake?” Kaveh mumbled, all anger blown away. His hands were shaking as they carded through Alhaitham's hair.

“Who said I did it for your sake?” he replied slowly before his body was shaken with another suffocating cough and Kaveh only held him tighter. When his breathing calmed again, he leaned his cheek against his shoulder, exhausted. “Let it go, Kaveh. I know very well what is and what isn't possible. I never expected to bite off more than I can chew.”

“You're so full of it! If you've given up all hope, then why did you still sleep with me?” The expression on his face was wild, guilty. This was exactly what Alhaitham had been trying to avoid.

“Why indeed. Perhaps I simply like being selfish.”

“When have you ever cared about being considerate for someone else's sake?!”

Alhaitham chose to remain quiet. He felt light headed and closed his eyes.

“Alhaitham, hey.”

Exhaustion was pulling at his bones as every new breath came out rattling and rough. Because I like to have you in my life. And I’d like to keep you by my side until the very end.

Kaveh suddenly pulled back, his eyebrows high and expression shocked. “Say that again.”

“I said that out loud? Oh well. My bad.”

“How can you be so calm about this, can't you see-”

“Didn't I already say this was none of your concern?” he cut in.

Kaveh clenched his fists. “Why won't you even consider the possibility that I don't want to see you die!”

“Because you have no say in the matter.”

“Arguably, I am the only other person who gets to have a say in the matter!” Kaveh emphasized.

“And why would that be?”

“Because I love you, you inconsiderate oat! You don't just get to leave me all alone like this! Iif you think I’ll just let you do that you have a big storm coming!”

Alhaitham spit out another mouthful of petals as he let one hand rest across his chest. “Repeat that for me,” he said weakly.

“You were the one who said you got the surgery. I thought you were over it! How could I have known…”

“You would have felt guilty if I had told you. There was no need to burden you with my feelings if it would only push you for an answer you couldn't give.”

“But I am giving you the answer you need right now, am I not? So accept it!” Kaveh's voice was shaky. “Why else would I have slept with you?” Slowly, Kaveh entangled his fingers with Alhaitham's, pulling their entwined hands close to his chest. “Tell me what you want from me.”

Alhaitham looked up and their eyes met. Slowly, he ran his hand over Kaveh's cheek, running his thumb under his eye to catch a stray tear. “Everything,” he said. “You know I'm a selfish man. Whatever you are willing to offer, I'll take.”

Kaveh leaned into the touch.

“Then kiss me already.”

Alhaitham pulled close, and when he hesitated for a moment, Kaveh closed the distance between them, making the choice for him.

“Well, who do we have here again?” Tighnari asked, his tone dry and his arms crossed as he entered the room. Alhaitham and Kaveh were sitting next to one another, their thighs touching casually.

“Tighnari! You are a sight for sore eyes!” Kaveh exclaimed as he placed his right palm over his heart. “A stubborn idiot and a bullheaded fool, that’s what you have here.”

“As you can see, Kaveh has stooped low enough to resort to verbal abuse.” Alhaitham explained as he nodded at Tighnari.

“Verbal abuse?! I think I have every right to be cross with you right now! Okay Tighnari, so help me settle a bet here, do you think that-”

Tighnari lifted his hand to pause Kaveh’s incoming rant. “How come every time you call for me you two have something entirely new going on?”

Kaveh threw him a pleading look. “Come on Tighnari, this will be the last time!”

“Based on either of your penchants for getting yourself in trouble,” he threw them a pointed look, “I highly doubt that. Don’t tell me you’ve called me again when you really should’ve gone to the Bimarstan instead”

Kaveh scratched the back of his head in a sheepish manner. “Well, it’s not not your area of expertise. And we actually just came back from the Bimarstan. Not that Alhaitham would’ve gone out of his own free will, so of course I had to drag him along.”

“For all intents and purposes, the trip was pretty useless,” Alhaitham threw in, earning him a heated glare from Kaveh’s side. “Considering how I was already healthy again once we got there.”

This piqued Tighnari’s curiosity. Finally, he sat down on the divan closest to the two, one leg thrown over the other, his torso leaning forward. When he did so, Tighnari took note of something strange.

“Are you two holding hands?” he asked without missing a beat. When he leaned closer and inspected his two friends some more, he noticed more little details. “Kaveh, are those hickeys that I see?” Kaveh’s cheeks heated up in the span of mere seconds and he dropped Alhaitham’s hand instantly. “Tighnari! You can’t just… It’s not-!” he started, then stopped himself. His eyes darted to the side quickly, hurriedly. When he returned his gaze to Alhaitham, a silent conversation seemed to pass between the two.

Kaveh raised his eyebrows at Alhaitham before nodding towards Tighnari. Alhaitham stared at him, then shrugged, which seemed to anger Kaveh, making him gesture even more wildly. Alhaitham shrugged in reply once more.

“It’s exactly what it looks like,” he then simply said, his voice just as monotone as it always was. A beat passed. “My disease was caused by my feelings for him and I lied about getting the surgery for it.”

Kaveh’s cheeks were still rosy. “See, this is what I was talking about! He is the most impossible man! Just outright admitting to lying like that… With absolutely zero shame, one might add!”

“For all it’s worth, I am sorry,” Alhaitham threw in smoothly.

Kaveh looked shell shocked as he turned to Tighnari, his face in complete disbelief. Alhaitham grabbed his wrist when Kaveh didn’t reply. He pursed his lips and kept his head turned away for another moment. Only his hand reached out to lock his pinkie with Alhaitham's.

Alhaitham lifted his hand to his cheek until he finally looked at him again. Then, he kissed him softly.

Tighnari slapped his palms on top of his thighs. “Alright! And that would be my cue to go! It was nice seeing you, but please don’t ever call me for something like that ever again. Bye!!”

“Oops,” Alhaitham said dishonestly. Kaveh slapped his shoulder.

“You did that on purpose just so I wouldn’t be able to ask him to play judge.”

“Did I now?”

“You most definitely did. I suppose I’ll have to give him your flowers some other day then. We owe him and like this, they can at least serve a purpose.”

Finally, Kaveh looked at Alhaitham again. Slowly, he lifted his hand and caressed his cheek. Alhaitham leaned into the touch and smiled.

#my writing #fanfiction #genshin impact #hanahaki disease #kaveh x alhaitham #kavetham #haikaveh #angst #miscommunication #hurt comfort

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