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attzi-gearburst · 2 years

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Facing Nightmares

Word Count: 2500 Summary: Iranji has a normal day at work when he helps explode Caer Darrow. And after posting this, I'll be ready to do a timeskip post, yaaaay!

Iranji trudged through the door of the inn, grimacing in a way that he knew wasn’t going to put anyone at ease. He was as gloomy as the weather outside. But he was sore from carrying bombs and fighting, and he was dirty, and he was well aware that he wasn’t going to get to soak like he wanted to so badly. He should have gone back to Dalaran, or to his ship, but the woman he’d taken under his wing was here, and he knew she’d be worried. Not for any altruistic reasons. He wasn’t that vain. He’d told her before he left that he’d paid for their room and board for the week, just in case something went wrong. Considering what she’d already been through, he didn’t want to risk leaving her stranded. But work had called, and so he had answered.

At least Port and Starboard were alright, he decided as he scaled the steps. They were going to be sleeping outside again, but he knew they’d find a place to take a bath before returning to creep at the room’s window.

He wanted nothing more than to take a bath, to the point that he was heavily considering going and finding a stream. He was covered with a fine film of dust that was itching at his scalp and nostrils, as well as some of his own blood, though the wounds beneath it had already healed over. Hovering outside the door for a moment, he wondered if his entrance was going to cause too much stress. For a few breaths, he stood awkwardly in the hall, then finally brought his hand up to the door and knocked.

“Who is it?” came a soft, familiar voice. “Just me,” he managed. “Good to come in?”

“Of course.” There was a rustling sound, and then a few seconds later the door opened and Tabitha looked up at him. “...Oh Light, are you okay?" Her big eyes were wide, and that constant furrow at her brow deepened the second she started looking him over.

Iranji closed his eyes heavily for a moment, trying not to think about knifing her puppet, about the motion in her stomach that had briefly writhed and gone still. He had been told that this enemy they were facing went for the weaknesses, and for a moment he was overwhelmed by how glad he was that he was thus far an unknown. Except for, apparently… this.

He thumbed at a tusk and then stepped into their room, well aware that he smelled like a tomb. “Yeah. Just work. You eat?”

She nodded a little sheepishly. “The innkeeper is mad at me.”

“Still hungry?” She nodded again, this time with a smile. No shame at all. It made him chuckle. “Can get us both something.” He started to turn right back out the door.

Her hand reached out and caught his bicep. “Let me do it. You relax in the bath tonight.”

He looked down at her hand, and then at her. Some part of his mind that remembered the way she’d come at him with a knife must have shown on his face, because she pulled it away uncertainly, leaving a handprint in the dust on his arm.

"Fine with me taking up the room for a bit?" He forced himself to make eye contact with her. The other Tabitha’s eyes hadn’t been right.

"Yes," she said. “Do you mind what I grab you?”

Iranji shook his head and stepped for his bed, where he started removing his armor. First, the cloak. Then, the pauldron. “Nah. Not picky.”

He was unbuckling his chestipice when he realized she hadn’t replied. He set the armor aside and turned just enough to see her standing and staring at his back. As soon as he saw her, she jolted. “Sorry! Sorry. I’ll be downstairs.”

He stifled a smirk as she fled the room, then finished getting out of his armor, adding to the pile beside his bed. All of it was going to need scrubbed. But first, the most important thing: himself.

The pipes were loud when he turned the water on, and it didn’t get quite as hot as he’d like, but at the end of the day a bath was a bath and water was water. He dunked his head down, kicking his knees up to do it, and made sure that all the surface dust and grime was washed away. Then he drained the tub, wiped it out as usual, and then sat on the edge while it refilled with a much more sensible temperature of water.

This time, when he climbed back in, he just let his limbs get heavy. He sank in up to his neck, kicking his legs over the end of the tub again, and closed his eyes with a little groan.

Part of him had been worried that she wouldn’t be okay. He wasn’t particularly happy with that, but at least it had been easy to get back and verify that she was still right where he’d left her.

…Unless she’d been replaced while he was out.

Iranji grimaced at the thought and then snorted. The last thing she needed was him traumatizing her more out of paranoia. He–

The door to the room opened, and Tabitha shuffled in, holding two plates and a bottle. She looked his way and then immediately averted her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Iranji, but someone downstairs is eating fish and the smell is–” she swallowed hard and shook her head. “And it’s raining.”

He turned his head to the window, and saw that it was. “No worries,” he said, making to rise.

“Stay in the bath. I’ll eat on the bed with my back to you.” She stepped to set his plate on his bed, but before turning for hers she walked for the tub, holding out the bottle and making very determined eye contact. “Cold beer. My husband liked a beer and a bath after a long day of work.”

He took it from her with a nod. “Thanks.” When he had a sip, she smiled, and then seemed to remember herself, because she turned her back and practically scampered over to her bed. He rolled the bottle in his hand, eyeing the dark glass, and then looked over at her again.

“Looked that bad when I came in?”

Tabitha didn’t answer right away, because she was busily eating. “You looked drained. You still do. I know I’d be drinking if I could right now.”

Iranji tipped his head back and downed half of the bottle. His usual response of “seen weirder at work” was completely inappropriate here, considering what she’d been through in Hearthglen. He didn't want to minimize her pain. He let his arm hang over the side of the tub, bottle in hand, and turned his head to stare at her back.

“Usually after jobs, habit is bath, drinks, and heavy sleep.” He left out what he often got up to in between the drinks and heavy sleep. “So thanks.”

There was a pause. Then, in an entirely different tone, she asked, “Are my nightmares keeping you up?”

“It’s fine,” he replied, and then finished off the rest of the bottle, leaning a bit to set it on the floor.

“Which is a yes. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Used to have nightmares, bad ones. Slept in a room with my whole crew. Kept them all up off and on for years. Just my turn now.” He blinked, realizing just how much he’d said, and then dunked his head under the water again so his hair would be freshly wet for shampooing.

“May I ask what they were about?” She asked when he resurfaced. Her voice sounded uncertain.

“Was on a ship that got hit during the Cataclysm. It went down.” I went down with it, he didn’t add. Went down and came back up different. “Lots of wood snapping, dark, cold water. Screaming."

And then there were the nights that his wife and girls were also there, but just out of reach. He’d struggled to get to them as their faces sank below the water countless times.

“I’m sorry, Iranji. I wish our minds would let us rest when we need it. I don’t think I need to tell you what my nightmares are about.”

“Nah,” he agreed, and then began lathering up his hands to wash his hair. “Anything like mine tho, will get used to it. They’ll fade.”

“I hope so,” she admitted. She nearly turned on the bed, but caught herself. “Am I keeping you from home with all this?”

Yes. “Cap’n knows where I am and why,” he replied, before dunking his head and letting the shampoo rinse out.

“You’re a sailor, then? I suppose that explains why you speak Common.”

He started scrubbing at his shoulders with a soapy washcloth, then his face, then his neck. “Yeah. Always work neutral crews. Money spends the same either side.”

This time she did turn around, setting her cleaned plate aside. Iranji didn't say anything when she made eye contact. “Goblins and trolls were never common in Hearthglen. You might be the third troll I’ve ever had a real conversation with.”

“Lucky you,” he said, voice dry. He knew just how good he was at conversation. Case in point: instead of explaining about the diverse makeup of his crew and just how long he'd been on the water as reasons for him being able to speak her language, he focused on washing his chest and back.

Eventually, Tabitha spoke again. “Why are you helping us? I’m not worried that… I mean I trust you. But…”

Iranji looked back over at her and rolled a shoulder. “Right thing to do.” Her expression suggested this was a subpar answer, so he tried again: “Had a family. Would have wanted someone to do this for them."

"...Oh." Her face and voice turned sad, and Iranji tried not to bristle as he prepared for the inevitable pity. But, something far worse came clear on her face instead: understanding.

He didn't want her to feel like they had something in common. He didn't want to feel like they did, either, and her mention of her husband in the past tense had come dangerously close to making that happen.

The room went quiet, the only sounds of water and cloth on skin as Iranji finished cleaning his legs and lay back with a sigh. The water was getting cold, but in the moment it felt far safer to be in the bath than out in the room.

"Do you want your plate?"

He jolted. Something about eating in the bath was repulsive. "Nah," he said, and then popped the drain with his foot, rising out of the water and reaching for a towel. In the edge of his vision, he could see her quickly turn away again. He kept his back to her out of politeness as he dried, then tucked the towel around his waist and ambled to get clean pants out of his pack. He should have done that first, he realized, before running the bath. As he was stepping into his pants, she spoke up from behind him again. “You had a nightmare last night, I think.”

“Really?” he grunted and buttoned his fly, then moved for the bed to collect dinner. “All clear,” he added. Tabitha turned back around, moving to the closer side of her bed to speak to him as he ate. “You were talking, but I didn’t understand the language.”

“Good,” he said, completely without malice, before digging into his plate. He ate quickly but neatly, an old habit from having to sometimes steal time for meals on the Prize. His companion linked her fingers together and rested them in her lap, in front of her belly. The silence was awkward, because she clearly wanted to say something else, but he had never been good with small talk. So, the room was silent until he finished his food and rose to collect his towel again. His hair needed another round of drying.

“Are you going to put it up again?”

“In the morning,” he said, voice muffled from the towel over his face. Mohawks didn’t play nicely with pillows.

Fuck. Thinking about pillows made him yawn broadly. He looked back to Tabitha and found her braiding her hair the way she tended to do before bed.

He really wished he didn’t know that about her. He collected his plate, and hers, setting them by the door for tomorrow, and then glanced to the room’s window. It was still pouring rain, but he saw both Port and Starboard, clinging to the ledge, fast asleep.

It was about that time. He went to sit on the edge of the bed, and was in the process of swinging his legs up when Tabitha broke the silence again.

“Iranji?”

“Yeah.” He looked up, eyeing her curiously.

“Can I sleep with you? Beside, beside you, I mean,” she added hurriedly, cheeks and neck flushing.

“...Bed’s too small.”

Tabitha’s voice was small, too, but firm when she replied, “I thought maybe if we just pushed them together. Then we’d still have our own covers.”

He rolled a shoulder and studied her for what was probably an uncomfortable length of time, then shook his head again. “Bad idea.” If he let himself take advantage of her in her position, he’d hate himself. (Her position, and her condition.)

“Please,” she said, voice even smaller. “I just want to be near someone who hasn’t tried to kill me recently.”

It felt like being physically punched in the gut, hearing that. Again, he thought of sending his rigging knife into her back, watching her drop in front of him just hours ago. She had been off, but recognizable. Without a word he rose, and began to drag her bed adjacent to his. She got out of the way for him, and he heard her sigh of relief as she shifted past.

“Thank you,” she said as he began to settle in to his side of the bed.

He nodded, then rolled to face the window, putting his back to her and closing his eyes. He could hear the rustling of blankets, and registered when she put out the light. He focused on the sound of the rain at the window and roof, and willed himself to relax.

Iranji had just gotten his back to untense when he heard her shift, and then felt her drape an arm over his waist. He went as rigid as if he’d been struck by lightning, but then her voice came again, quiet and sleepy: “I’m not trying anything. I just don’t want to go back home in my sleep tonight.”

He exhaled deeply. “...Alright.”

Her forehead pressed into his back, against his shoulderblades, but the covers still mostly separated them both. The only thing they couldn’t save him from was a faint thwack against his back, from where her belly was touching him.

Instinctively, he smiled. He'd always loved feeling babies kick. As soon as he noticed that he was smiling, however, all tiredness left him, and he lay on his side for a long time, eyes locked on the window. Based on Tabitha’s breathing, she was out in minutes, but her arm held him away from sleep for a long time despite the best efforts of the rain.

#Iranji #long post

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casualmaraudering · 5 years

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“Hi! Can I help you find anything?”

Remus has every intention of turning towards the worker and saying ‘no, thank you, I know what I’m here for’, because every time he gets into any sort of interaction with a Lush employee he spends twice as much money as he originally intended. He needs to learn self-control and just not let all those bubbly, nice smelling people sell him stuff he doesn’t need.

He plans on doing that, but then he actually turns to face the worker, and all those plans exit Lush, while Remus stays promptly rooted in his spot.

The man is gorgeous, like breathtakingly, impossibly beautiful, and handsome, to the point Remus feels it should be fucking illegal. He’s tall (though that might be due to the quite sizable Doc Martens he seems to be wearing), with gorgeous, shiny black hair that falls down past his shoulders in a perfectly styled way, even though he couldn’t have put that much effort into it since he’s working - which means it’s just this good naturally (again - illegal). He has the facial structure of a pure aristocrat mixed with a marble renaissance statue, with high cheekbones and a perfectly round chin and a jaw sharp enough to cut right into Remus’s heart and steal it without a single obstacle in place. There’s not a wrinkle or imperfection in sight, which tells Remus he must be similar age to him - a college student, most likely. Or maybe a model, with a face like that.

There’s his lips, round and full and pink, curved into such a cute smile (how is this man both hot and cute?!), with perfectly straight and white teeth showing, his canines ever so sharper than a usual person’s; and his eyes, which are gray and Remus never knew gray eyes could be so lively and expressive and nice to look at.

And then Remus sees the tattoos on the guy’s arms, then piercings in his ears, the black polish on his nails, the black (and impossibly tight) ripped jeans, the dog tags on his neck. He internally curses the heavens because he has never met a man that’s as much his type as this random Lush guy.

Who asked him a question and Remus hasn’t replied, and he’s making an idiot out of himself.

It’s not like he had a chance with Mr Bloody Fucking Perfect to begin with, but now he just seems more pathetic.

“Yes, actually,” he mutters quickly. “I’m, uh… looking for a bath bomb? Something that doesn’t have an overpowering smell would be the best?”

He doesn’t need yet another bath bomb, but if spending an additional £30 is the price of getting to talk to this guy for a few more minutes, so be it.

God, he really is pathetic.

“Oh, that’s this way, if you wanna follow me real quick,” Mr Perfect - Sirius, his badge says (even his fucking name is interesting) - says to him in a chipper voice, then goes deeper into the store, Remus following behind.

They arrive at the bath bomb section, and Sirius squints at him with a smile, then turns to the bath bomb rack, picks something up, and turns back to Remus, with the item behind his back.

“How do you feel about bergamot oil and sweet tonka?”

Remus has no fucking clue what tonka is. “Sounds good, I think?” he says, because honestly, he doesn’t care, he’ll buy whatever his gorgeous boy offers him.

If only he offered something else, Remus thinks, and then mentally slaps himself, because being creepy about strangers isn’t on his to-do list today. He really needs to let Lily drag him to a bar one of these days, if only to forget about gorgeous Lush employees.

Sirius smiles at him brightly. “It’s a Valentine’s special, particularly favoured by… certain customers,” he explains, with a cheeky grin. “And I think you might find it up your alley.”

He then shows the bath bomb that he’s had behind his back - it’s shaped like an aubergine. And Remus has been around the block enough to know what Sirius is insinuating. He feels his cheeks turn hot red - has he really been staring so openly?!

“Uhm,” Remus mutters, because really, he’s not sure what to say. ‘Yes, that’s perfect, glad you noticed I’m very thirsty for you and three seconds away from begging you to fuck me’ doesn’t seem like a socially acceptable answer.

“Oh,” Sirius’s grin drops suddenly, seemingly startled. “I’m sorry, Sir, that was really uncalled for,” he reaches to the shelf to put the item back. “I’ll go get someone else to assist you, I apologize for being so unprofessional-”

“Wait wait wait,” Remus says quickly before the boy can flee. “It’s fine, really! I just… I wasn’t-”

“It’s not fine, I shouldn’t have assumed, I was just…” Remus might be crazy, or Sirius is blushing. “I thought… I saw you here a few days ago and I think you’re really cute, but I never got the chance to talk to you and I was really bummed, but you came in today again so I thought I need to talk to you now or it might never happen again so I decided I’d ask to help you and maybe find out if you’re interested in guys by any chance? I mean, that was a stupid fucking way - fuck, I shouldn’t swear on the job. Or hit on customers. Jesus, dad is gonna fire me,” Sirius rambles, which makes Remus chuckle.

“I am. Into guys, I mean,” Remus replies with a shy smile. “And I don’t really need a bath bomb. I just wanted an excuse to talk to you a bit longer.”

Sirius smiles a smile so happy Remus feels his stomach turn; he could get used to this smile.

“Really?” Remus nods. Sirius reaches back for the bath bomb (Remus rolls his eyes at it - it is quite funny now). “So… how about that - I’ll ring this up for you, with an employee discount, and then maybe you can give me your number so I can come over to yours and test it out with you? Tonight?”

“I guess it’s true that Lush really cares about customer service, huh?” Remus asks back with a grin.

Sirius grins right back. “I’m very determined to make employee of the month. So, what do you say?”

“I hope you have good taste in bath bombs.”

#wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #the marauders #wolfstar fanficion #my tag #fel writes #i regret nothing #it's all cause i saw a post about this bath bomb

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pastelracha · 3 years

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Pregnancy with Hyunjin

☾ Title : Pregnancy with Hyunjin

☾ Pairing: Hyunjin x fem!reader

☾ Genre: fluff, established relationship, pregnangcy

☾ Prompt: just a head canon of pregnancy with our extra drama king.

☾ A/N: request : double request of the “Pregnancy with” serie with Hyunjin, don’t forget to give me your feed back guys xox

☾ Other : Chan’s version : ☾ Felix’s version : ☾

☾ Word Count: 0.534K

masterlist | ask or request

Him being the drama queen he is, would jump around when he learned you were pregnant.

Kkami is gonna be a big bro and a best friend. Just imagine him telling to Kkami a baby is coming, how cute.

Bought really stylish outfit for the baby, and matching outfit for him and future baby Hyunjin.

His kid will probably be as extra as Hyunjin ! (Let’s be real here), but also as beautiful.

Bought a lot of fairy lights for the baby room, cause cozy!

As an only child, he kind of wish having twins.

But was over the moon when he saw the baby was a baby boy, yes a mini Hyunjin.

Is the extra future dad!

Always searching for baby music on Spotify and make your belly listen to it to ease his little one.

Legit rans to his parents’ with the ultrasound pictures telling them they are going to be grand parents.

Give the fetus at lot of adorable nickname like : baby prince, bundle of joy, my star, etc ..

Have a custom ring with the name you choose for the baby.

As chan was the first to be a dad, ask him a lot about tips and stuffs.

Made a video diary of the whole pregnancy for his child to see when he is 18!

“Hey, bundle of joy it’s daddy, mom is sleeping right now, it’s not long until we both meet you and clearly we can’t wait, stay healthy, I love you’’

Your biggest wish ? Your son having his dad smile.

Fall asleep every night with one hand on your bump.

Runs baths for you, with every cool bath bombs he find at Lush (is there any Lush in Korea ?).

He can wait for Halloween and Christmas with your little one.

Can believe he is about to be a dad. But also so excited about it!

Posted a photo on Instagram with kkami and a picture of your last ultrasound : “ Kkami is excited to finally gonna be a big bro #miniSKZ’’ (like imagine mini ver of skz my heart is melting)

The baby room is already fil with a lot of toys. (Yes also SKZOO collection).

Let’s admit all SKZ member would look up to you as a goddess cause you give them the most beautiful and meaningful gift a baby.

Is always with you at every appointments, hold your hand.

Would paint your belly (with safe pints), and turn it into a masterpiece.

Also would paint things for the baby room.

SKZ uncles, best uncles (no need to say it in every part of this serie).

Would run at the convenience store in the middle of the night for you.

Take aesthetic photos of you during your pregnancy and keep a journal with dates.

His favorite one is a black and white photo of you sitting on the bed, messy hair just woke up in one of his shirt your belly showing (at something like 5 months pregnant and is his home screen on his phone).

Talk a lot to your bump.

Write cute lyrics for his child and ask chan to create a melody to create a lullaby.

And would sing this lullaby to your belly every nights.

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drabblecat · 3 years

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Yandere!Heisenberg x F!Reader Part 1

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Warnings: Kidnapping, yandere behavior

This is part one and it is fairly tame, but next chapter and the rest (however many that is) will be very NSFW for sure! Just an idea that I had and needed to set the scene first.

(requests open)

Running a rag across the bar, you cleaned the remaining spills of the night. The pub’s radio crackling in the background as you finished your shift. You couldn’t be too picky after moving to the small town, and jobs were hard to find. There of course were openings as maids and other help in the castle nearby, but that thing gave you the creeps. Not to mention living where you work would be a questionable way to create a work/life balance. Hanging up your apron and placing it on the hook you made your way to the door.

“Have a nice night newbie!” The pub owner’s burly voice called to you from the back, finishing up the dishes from the last of the dinner rush. He was a nice man, no wife or kids, but to be honest was a caring enough person to be a father figure. Like hell you’d ever admit that. Besides the town drunks you had yet to meet a truly miserable person here. The people that did cause a scene were often thrown out and you never happened to run into them again. Perhaps in such a small town everyone knows everyone, and reputation has to be maintained.

Checking your watch, it was almost one in the morning. Nothing is open right now, but hopefully you could pick up fresh bread tomorrow morning. You told the baker about always having a hard time shopping and they were nice enough to allow you to ask them to set your order aside. Snow boots padded softly on the snowy stone path, just the light of nearby houses lighting the way. People said it was dangerous to walk around at night alone, but you never came to any harm. You carried a knife hidden in an inner pocket of your coat, but you only even brought that with you being worried about any of the wildlife you might encounter. The reason everyone was so scared to walk alone at night was supposedly to horrible howls they all heard. All things considered that was reasonable. The village was near large patches of wilderness for hunting, and having wolfs, bears, and other creatures is normal. You wouldn’t call any of those animals ‘horrendous beasts’, but drunks at the bar trying to scare you might.

Reaching your door finally you pulled the large metal key out of your pocket. As nice as the old style door looked, the key was a pain in the ass to carry around constantly. Your house wasn’t much, but it fit your needs. First thing you did was place your watch and keys in the bowl by the entryway. It was always easier to follow that habit than to be constantly looking for where you put it. Deciding that a bath was just the right thing for your aching feet, you went to run the bath. After filling the clawfoot tub just enough and topping it all off with a lavender bath bomb, you put your towel on the rack. As you gently lowered yourself down, the warmth of the water melted away your soreness. It was moments like this you loved, nothing to do but let yourself get lost in thought. You worked nights mostly, so there was no need to set an early alarm.

A good amount of time had passed when you heard a small bang coming from the kitchen. Alarmed you got out of the bath, quickly patted yourself off, and wrapped a towel around yourself. You didn’t see anything right away, but after looking closer your watch was now on the floor. Picking it up you looked it over, the glass was fine, but the leather strap had a few scratches near the end. Must have been those damn mice! They have been such a problem lately, it must have been those little thieves for sure. Last week it was your homemade cookies, a few days ago they had completely shredded a thank you card one of the locals had given you. Honestly, if you weren’t on such a tight budget as it was you’d consider getting the biggest cat you can possibly adopt.

A shudder ran down your dripping wet body as a gust of cool night air came through to interrupt your internal rant. Looking to the shutters they were once again open and flapping in the wind. You would blame their inability to latch on the mice too, but you knew it was just your reluctance to call a handy man and actually get it fixed. Realizing you were in nothing but a towel, you made haste to shut them, if the neighbors were going to get to see anything they should at least pay.

“Go off to a quaint village they said. It’ll be a relaxing life, they said…” grumbling you headed towards the bedroom to finally get some sleep. Slipping on a nightgown that went down just to your knees and tucking yourself into bed, you drifted slowly off to sleep. A distant howl barely audible echoed in the night.

You awoke with a start, eyes slamming open as screams filled the air. You got out of bed as quick as you could. Stumbling into the kitchen and slipping on your boots and coat before opening the door to see what the hell was going on. Immediately you were met with the sight of your neighbor’s neck being torn by a horrendous zombie-werewolf type creature that only barely resembled a man. You were told briefly of the place to go should some emergency happen. Without having time to think about it, your feet were already running towards the supposed safe spot. Bodies littered the street as you ran, the baker, the old woman… you stopped in your tracks. Although torn he was still recognizable, it was your boss, the one man who was kind enough to give you a position so you could get your new life started. Judging by his uniform he hadn’t even made it home after closing.

Before even coming to terms with this revelation, your leg was tugged out from under you. Falling onto the stone path you instinctively grabbed the knife stashed in your coat and stabbed the creature directly in its eyes several times. The creature stood, grabbing its face as it became blinded. Taking the opportunity, you booked it out of there. The house was now in your line of sight, the main gates wide open. With a sudden gust the gates slammed shut, a chain like a snake wrapped its way around sealing it shut. Still, you had to try, pulling on the gates with all your might but to no avail. Tears ran down your face as you fell to your knees. Not even the freezing snow on your bare skin could snap you out of this nightmare.

“Too bad, you almost made it! But don’t worry hun, I’ll take care of you now.” A deep voice came from above you. Slowly you tilted your head and were met with one of the town lords you had heard about, Heisenberg. Just as you had registered his face, the chain on the fence shot out and wrapped around your neck. Desperately your hands flew to your neck, helplessly clawing at the metal snake until your vision went blurry and darkness enveloped you.

“Sleep tight sweetheart…”

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

Before opening your eyes, the smell of a garage hit your senses. Judging by what feel alone you could tell you were on a bed of some sort. Slowly you opened your eyes. It was a dimly lit bedroom, the bed you were on was more comparable to a cot and the sheets looked stained. Peering at your leg, you saw it was wrapped in bandages exactly where the beast had grabbed you, and a chain that connected your leg to a bed post.

“Well good morning sunshine! Sleep well? Quite the excitement you had last night huh?” the mattress shifted as the man sat down at the foot of the bed.

“Heisenberg?” Your voice was quite and unsure, still shaken from the memories of the night.

“So you have heard of me, great! And I certainly know you, known you for a while now.”

“What the hell…” you sat up quickly in bed and pushed yourself as far back as you could away from the man. Almost immediately the chain moved, pulling you down the bed. He towered over top of you, hand coming down next to your head. Chuckling he used his other hand to caress your cheek, rough thumb brushing across your lower lip.

“Don’t be trying to run like that, I know this is new and all but what’s the alternative? I send you back out there to get eaten alive? Don’t be foolish, I’m here to take care of you after all.” Looking into his glasses you saw your own face in their reflection, you knew that deep down this was only the beginning of the nightmare.

#re8 x reader #karl heisenberg #re8 smut #x reader #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg x you #smut

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lovesanmotion · 3 years

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mafia!ateez reacts: comforting s/o with ptsd

💌 This is: Requested

[!] To those who are curious, PTSD or Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is a mental health condition that is caused by a traumatic or terrifying event - either witnessing or experiencing it. A few examples of it are: childbirth experiences (losing a baby), serious accidents, war and conflict, torture, being kidnapped or held hostage and seeing other people get killed before you.

Taglist: @yunhobabygurl

Hongjoong:

You felt like a failure, not only to yourself, but to your in laws as well. Three years after your marriage, they were already expecting a heir. At first, Hongjoong would lie and say that he is too busy to go back home and sleeps in his warehouse, but the longer he lies, the more he lacks reasons. You, on the other hand, tried your best to do everything just to be blessed with a child. You went to various temples and recited prayers, lit up incense sticks and performed rituals. You consulted love doctors to know which positions is best to have a baby, ate organs of various animals and countless made love with Hongjoong during the full moon. But all those efforts became vain when you would still get your monthly period.

You would cry to yourself while looking at the baby gifts your friends and his closest friends gave you. You couldn't bare any insult thrown at you by his mother or his father. The sight of them alone already gives you anxiety. Amidst of your crying, a pair of arms would wrap around you from behind and engulf you into a hug.

"We'll get through this together" Hongjoong says, resting his chin on your shoulder while caressing your stomach.

Seonghwa:

Even though Seonghwa had given the enemy group the five hundred grand, they still had a little time to have fun with you. While Seonghwa and his men were on their way to claim you, the men and their boss made you watch them kill the lives of innocent adults and children. If you look away, they would stab you. And if you closed your eyes, they would stab you but ten times more.

Days after the incident, you found it hard to look at anything that is red and sharp objects immediately triggered you. Upon the sight of a cutlery knife once sent you to tears and a sobbing mess while Seonghwa catches you in his arms. Seonghwa had ordered all the maids to hide anything sharp and pointy and discard anything red that they have and replace it with any color. Whenever you cried, Seonghwa would take you in his arms and bury your face on his chest. Neverminding how your tears would soak his button down shirt.

Yunho:

When Yunho refused to give in to the enemy group, they held hostage someone very dear to him. You. They had locked you up in a room inside their warehouse, the room didn't have anything except a hanging light and a chair you're currently bounded in. While the enemy group was waiting for Yunho, a female members of their entertained your room. Fearing the worst, she started throwing punches at your stomach as if you were a punching bag. When she learned that Yunho and his men arrived, she gave one last punch and that is to your jaw and falling down on the ground.

The aftermath of the horrific event paid a price to you. Whenever someone tried to get close or lay a hand on you, you would immediately scream and run away from them, raising your arms around yourself in a defensive position. This was especially hard for Yunho since he wanted to comfort you by having you in his arms, but couldn't due to your new fear of being touched. With this, he signed you up for therapy and bought the prescribed medication your therapist had given. And as you undergo therapy, Yunho would be delighted to make you your breakfast, send you gifts and place them inside your room and leave you love letters on top of your bed table. Hoping that one day, you would be able to overcome it.

Yeosang:

When the enemy group learned about you, Yeosang did not hesitate to get you into hiding. Immediately ordering four of his men to get the helicopter and locate you to a secret island, but on the way, the skies became grey and foggy, Yeosang on the other end of the intercom monitored your safety, following you in a ship in the waters. However, the line started to disrupt until he heard your screams and multiple gunshots. He took off the headset and stared up in the skies where he could make out the figure of the helicopter about to crash down.

The helicopter carried five people, including you. And it so happens that it was only you who survived the accident. You weren't facing anything serious, just a few scratches here and there, but whenever you heard loud sounds such as banging and ringing, you would immediately jump in your spot and your hands would automatically hold onto him. Yeosang would comfort you by holding your hand and caressing it gently with his. While doing so, he would do breathing exercises with you, it was simple but effective.

San:

When San managed to hide you underneath his desk, you couldn't help but overhear their conversation. Though nothing what they were talking about made sense to you, what stood and stuck inside your head were the words "If possible, I would have killed you with my bare hands right now and watch as the color in your skin fade into purple and blue." left you hanging and pondering over it.

And ever since that day, you couldn't look at San in the eyes anymore. You once tried to, but your mind played tricks and you saw how his lips turned into purple. It came to a point where you find it hard to sleep at night because the image of him being dead would be the first thing to greet you as your eyes closed. San would everything in his power to get rid of your disorder, but most importantly, he would also pay attention to what you feel about his lifestyle because, without denying it, it was him who brought you into this.

Mingi:

The sound of gunshots and bombs rang all over your ears, you swear you could lose your sense of hearing already. Bodies lying down on the ground, unmoving and still. You wondered how could he face this kind of scenario everyday. You tried to get away when a bomb exploded near you, causing you to fall on the ground, losing consciousness.

A few days after the terrifying event, Mingi observed how you became startled and frightened at the sounds of loud ringing, how you would zone out of yourself and sometimes, feel detached. Mingi swears that you're physically with him, but mentally somewhere else. He knew that after witnessing something so terrifying would cause you this, and that is why Mingi had you signed up for cognitive therapy. Hoping that your mind would bury the past events and be able to help you overcome it.

Wooyoung:

It had not only happened once, but it happened twice already. You've lost two of your unborn babies while giving a heir that would soon inherit Wooyoung's business. The loss of your children brought you great stress to yourself emotionally and physically that your health started to decline and your hair slowly started to grow white in your middle twenties.

When Wooyoung learned all of this, he gave the maids an indefinite vacation. One wherein he told them to rest and eat good food while he took his time taking care of you. Before leaving, the maids wished the young madam (aka you) a goodluck and speedy recovery. And in the succeeding days, Wooyoung would get up early and prepare everything for you. After that, he would go on long walks with you in the garden and pick flowers and make flower crowns. He wanted to divert your mind and away from all the negative you were thinking of. And he also took a mental note to dye your white hairs.

Jongho:

Before Jongho came to your rescue, you were placed inside a large fish tank with chains around your ankles and arms. Not understanding what you were doing inside at first until you felt the cold water at your feet. Finally realizing what was going to happen to you, you kept banging your hands on the screen of the tank, yelling that someone would hopefully hear you. Fear would slowly start to get you as soon as the water rises to your knees, it was useless to climb out with both of your hands tied. Slowly, the waters dangerously increased until they reached your waist. You were already floating in the water and the coldness starting raising the hairs in your arms. You tried screaming for help, particularly screaming Jongho's name. But your pleas were answered by nothing. And as the waters reached to your neck, you tilted your head up to give you more oxygen. Until slowly, the waters fully engulfed you. You held your breath before you could be succumbed, but it wasn't enough as a few minutes later, your body started to jerk and your head moving front and back and slowly, your eyelids closing down on you and your eyes rolling back.

Jongho was quick to saving you. After closing your eyes, he was able to break the human sized tank and caught you in his arms. Laying you down on the nearest surface he could find and then performing CPR on you. But even though he saved you from near death, he noticed how you would avoid taking baths and not coming out of the house when it was raining. He knew that the past event caused you to like this. At first, he tried to convince you to watch the rain with him, but you disagreed. Whenever you would take a shower, Jongho would have to be inside with you. In every step, Jongho would be there for you to overcome your fear and be able to face the waters once more.

211 notes · View notes

inevitably-johnlocked · 3 years

Note

hey Steph, really adore your blog. I saw your ask about s3 and s4 John and his anger. do you have any pics that deal with that? I think his anger is caused by his jealousy. he loves Sherlock and is deeply insecure about S's love for him. I'd love to find some fics that actually deal with all of that. thank you. x

Hey Nonny!!

I DO!!! Been waiting for another ask to finally get this list up and out! Hope you find something you enjoy on this one! <3

ANGRY / CRANKY JOHN

See also:

Jealous John b/c of Other People

Jealous John

Jealous John Pt. 2 and Jealous Sherlock Pt 2

Jealous John Pt 3 and Jealous Sherlock Pt 3

Jealous John and Sherlock Pt. 4

Jealous John and Sherlock Pt. 5

Texts and Tea by JillianWatson1058 (K, 959 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Texting, Humour, Fluff, POV John, Cranky John) – A John who is woken up at 2:30 in the morning is not a happy John. Sherlock, frankly, doesn’t care. He just wants his tea.

And, Usually, He's the One Who GIVES Me a Headache by Cumberbatch Critter (T, 1,315 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, POV John, Cranky John, Headaches, Head Massage) – A migraine is never fun.

Hallucinations can't open doors by Bespectacled dreamer (K+, 1,330 w., 1 Ch. || Reunion, Hurt / Comfort, Friendship, Hallucinations, John’s Wedding, Light Humour) – In which John gets married and Sherlock gets a broken nose.

The 3x John Carried Sherlock, and Once ViceVersa by ShinkonoKokoro (K+, 1,673 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, Friendship, Three and One, BAMF John, Sherlock Whump, Worried Sherlock, John Gets Shot) – It happens more than he suspects.

Baskerville After Dark by Ttime42 (T, 1,921 w., 1 Ch. || THoB, Friendship, Humor, Bed Sharing, Missing Scenes, Cranky John, Cuddles) – John and Sherlock have to share a bed at Baskerville. Gen, but can be preslash.

Stay by sussexbound (M, 2,067 w., 1 Ch. || Post TAB, Suicidal Ideation Mention, Implied / Referenced Drug Use, Kissing, Love Confessions, Frottage, Coming in Pants) – “Why? Why did you do it? Hmm…?” He takes a deep breath, waits, lets it out again. “Look at me.” There’s no denying him when he takes this tone. “Why did you kill him? Hmm…? For her? After…” A muscle twitches in the corner of John’s eye, and he clamps his jaw down tightly, swallows and sniffs a little before continuing. “For her? After everything she’s done?” “For you.” Before he can even stop himself. Just like that.

Denial Isn’t Just a River in Egypt by satanatemycat (T, 2,107 w., 1 Ch. || Humour, Friendship, Texting, Bored/Cranky Sherlock) – In which John makes a bet with a co-worker. If he wins, she shuts up about him and Sherlock being a couple. If he loses… well, that doesn’t matter, because he won’t lose. Because he and Sherlock ARE NOT a couple. Right?

Nothing Left Untouched by ForeverShippingJohnlock (K+, 2,617 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Romance, Bed Sharing, Oblivious Sherlock, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Grumpy John, Fluff and Cuddles) – Sherlock rearranges the flat. So what if John's bedroom is now a research library. It's not like John needs a bedroom, he can share with Sherlock. They're friends and John has obviously slept in close quarters with men before and it's not like Sherlock sleeps much anyway. It'll be fine.

Those Days by StillWaters1 (T, 2,663 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD / Sensory Attacks, Caring Sherlock) – If Sherlock had danger nights, then these were John's danger days.

Extraordinary by ardenteurophile (T, 2,739 w., 7 Ch. || Angst, Pining, Romance, Second Person POV Sherlock, Pre-Slash) – Sherlock tries to understand his preoccupation with one Doctor John Watson - the one case he can never solve.

BBCSH 'The Comfort of Company' by tigersilver (T, 2,769 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TRF/Mary, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Bed Sharing, Grumpy John, Touching, Clingy/Handsy Sherlock, Cranky Sherlock, Fluff and Light Angst) – It's a trope that John and Sherlock end up sharing in the same bed eventually and I admit I do adore it unconditionally, along with all it infers as to the lowering of defenses and the heightening of trust. I put forth for your consideration that the notion persists because those who think about these things realize these two men are each in dire need of some good company.

Unquantifiable by 221b_hound (M, 2,799 w. 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., Grumpy John, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Pet Names, Texting, Sweet Sherlock, Princess Bride References) – John remains a terrible and foul-tempered patient, but he does try to make up for it with pet names and text message silliness. In the meantime, Sally Donovan visits Baker Street for a hint about the Milverton case, and has to deal with a Sherlock Holmes who can't find words big enough to thank her for saving John's life at the warehouse. For afters, there's a viewing of The Princess Bride. Part 33 of the Unkissed series

Bathroom Accessories by Evenlodes_Friend (E, 3,324 w., 1 Ch. || Sex Toys, Butt Plug, First Kiss / Time, Romance, Horny Sherlock, John’s Patience Wears Thin, Humour, Bottomlock) – John discovers that Sherlock has been playing with some very adult toys in the bath.

After the Bombs by VampirePam (T, 3,337 w., 2 Ch. || THoB AU, Drugs, John’s PTSD, Panic Attack, Nightmares, Caring Sherlock, Cuddles, Bed Sharing, Angst, Hurt/Comfort) – In which the drugs Sherlock used to dose John trigger a severe episode of PTSD. When terrors old and new cause John to fall apart, Sherlock must rectify his mistake and pick up the pieces.

Breakfast, acronyms and brotherhood by Rose de Sharon (K+, 4,074 w., 1 Ch. || TBB Fic, Friendship/Bromance, Hurt/Comfort, Protective John, Fluff) – Set after The Blind Banker: my take of Sherlock and John's conversation over breakfast. S/J friendship, bromance, no slash.

Afghanistan in Baskerville by Amaya Ramiel (K+, 4,357 w., 1 Ch. || THoB Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Drugged John, PTSD / Panic Attack, Hallucinations, Worried Sherlock, John’s Past, Friendship) – What if John hadn't seen the hound when Sherlock trapped him in the lab? What if instead, his very real nightmares of the war had materialized all around him? Trapped and drugged, John can't tell what's real and what's not. How will Sherlock react?

What John Doesn't Know (Won't Hurt Him) by blueink3 (NR [T], 4,392 w., 1 Ch, || S3 Fix It, Pining Sherlock, Snippets of Life, Hurt/Comfort, Scars, Fluff and Angst, Five and One, Hopeful Ending, POV Sherlock) – Five people who see Sherlock's scars before John Watson. But Sherlock's secrets were never something he could keep from his blogger for long.

Overture by Kate_Lear (M, 4,435 w., 1 Ch. || First Kiss / Time, Friends to Lovers, Angry John, Introspection, Dev. Rel., Embarassed / Insecure Sherlock, Morning After, Bed Sharing, Cuddles / Limpet Sherlock) – A short snippet on how John and Sherlock might have got together.

When Your Belly's in the Trench by Morgan_Stuart (T, 4,743 w., 1 Ch. || PTSD, Character Study, Rescue, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Torture, Trauma, Danger, Drama, Kidnapping/Captivity) – The next time that door opens, John Watson will kill the person on the other side.

Given In Evidence by verityburns (M, 5,034 w., 19 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF, Angst, Drama, Case Fic, Romance, BAMF!John, Submissive Sherlock, First Kiss, Humour) – Coming back from the dead can be a complicated business. With a new case on the horizon, rebuilding a life is one thing... rebuilding a friendship quite another. For Sherlock and John, things may never be just the same...

This Year by DiscordantWords (T, 6,283 w., 2 Ch. || TEH Divergence / No Mary, New Year’s Eve, John’s A Mess, Jealous John, Awkward Conversations, Trapped in a Closet, Estranged After Return, John POV, Semi-Reunion, Angry John, First Kiss, Reconciliation, Clueless Sherlock, Happy Ending) – Last year, Sherlock Holmes showed up at the Landmark with a fake moustache and a bad French accent and threw John's entire life into disarray with two words: "Not dead." This year, there are more surprises in store.

An Interpretation of Viewing Habits by akitsuko (E, 6,653 w., 1 Ch. || Porn Watching, Masturbation, Anal, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss / Time, Declarations of Love, Jealous Sherlock, Fantasizing, John in Denial / Internalized Homophobia, Bottomlock, Pining Idiots, Sherlock Has No Boundaries, Cockblocking Sherlock) – John watches porn. It's a perfectly normal thing to do.If every video he watches happens to feature actors with remarkable physical similarities to his flatmate, well, that's no one's business but his own. Or: John is in denial, until his infatuation with Sherlock is impossible to deny anymore.

BANG by ElvendorkInfinity (T, 7,016 w., 3 Ch. || Post-TGG AU, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Worried / Scared Sherlock, Alternating POV, Whump, Hospital Recovery, Open Ending) – 'I should warn you,' Sherlock says, his voice steady and his eyes fixed on Moriarty. 'You are sadly misinformed.' And he fires. Prequel to M Is For Moriarty

Stranded by BeautifulFiction (T, 5, 798 w., 1 Ch. || First Kiss, Communication / Relationship Discussion, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock POV, BAMF John, Doctor John, Case Fic, Drinking, Huddling For Warmth, Friends to More) – When stranded on a derelict barge at high tide, John and Sherlock reconsider their friendship.

London Gods by a_different_equation (E, 11,092 w., 5 Ch. || American Gods Fusion || Magical Realism, Sex Magic, True Love, PTSD John, First Kiss/Time, Marathon Sex, Sensuality, Genie Sherlock, Human John, Internalize Homophobia, Star-Crossed Lovers, Soul Mates) – Sherlock Holmes is a jinn who does not grant wishes. However, when Dr. John H. Watson, recently returned from the war in Afghanistan, gets into his cab by "accident", it might not even need magic to grant both men their deepest wish: love.

There's So Much Labour Just in Breathing Lately by Susan (E, 12,708 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TRF / Mentions of S3 Events, Romance, Angst, Grief/Mourning, Grieving John, Mutual Pining, Meddling Mycroft, Therapy, Ambiguous Hopeful Ending, Infidelity) – The dreams he hated most – the ones that left him a sweating, shaking mess when he woke – were the ones in which Sherlock was just Sherlock. Laughing or drinking tea. Sitting across the table from him at Angelo’s eating pasta. Trailing his open hand behind him on the way to the bedroom. “C’mon, John. I’m about to have my way with you.”

Shuteye Shenanigans by Ayakae (K+, 13,263 w., 8 Ch. || Post-TRF, Friendship / Epic Bromance, John’s Nightmares, Angsty Fluff, Bed Sharing, Humour, Cuddles, Taking Care of Each Other, Domestics) – John Watson has never slept with Sherlock Holmes. Never ever ever. And never will, thank you very much. Well, there was that one time, but John didn't count that. It was completely different, just like the second time it happened. And the third. And the fourth. Epic bromance, but it can be read as pre-slash if you wish.

The Palmyra Atoll by elwinglyre (E, 16,609 w., 3 Ch. || TSo3 Divergence / Episode Fix-It, Stockholm Syndrome, Kidnapped John Watson, John Whump, Evil Mary, Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Toplock, Limited 3rd John POV) – As John's preparing for the wedding, Sherlock is preparing to have his heart broken, and Mary is prepared to do the unthinkable. Intervention required. Enter Sherlock. Set before Sign of Three with a far different outcome. John is drugged, kidnapped, and left on an island, but not just any old island.

Wonderful, Etcetera. by VictoryCandescence (T, 16,955 w., 3 Ch. || Wonderful Life AU || Alternate Timelines, Brotherhood, Homophobia, Suicidal Ideations, Mentions of Drug Use, Friendship, Different TRF, Sherlock’s Past, Victor Trevor is Past Boyfriend, Depression, Hallucination?, Love Confessions, Christmas, First Kiss) – Sherlock thinks everyone would be better off if he had never existed, including and especially himself. When he finds himself in a world in which his wish has been granted, he begins to think perhaps even he could be wrong – but it takes an unlikely chaperone to make him not only observe, but understand.

I Think I've Come A Long Long Way To Sit Before You Here Today by ArwenKenobi (T, 18,251 w., 3 Ch. || Grief/Mourning, Passage of Time, Major Character Death, Alternating POV, Sherlock Whump, Pining Sherlock, Hospitalization, Coma, Revenge Murders, Hallucinations, Love Confessions, Brutal Accident, Mystrade, Ghost John) – One year after John is killed Sherlock starts to wonder whether John has actually gone anywhere.

Out of the Woods by SilentAuror (E, 20,471 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Romance, Slow Burn, Flirting, Drunk Sex, Practical Jokes, POV Sherlock, Bottomlock, Possessive John, Pining Sherlock, Frustrated Wanking, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, First Kiss/Time, Virgin Sherlock, Love Confessions, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Bum Appreciation, Hanging out with the Yard) – Sherlock is fairly certain that John has taken to flirting with him of late, but can't be entirely certain of it. At least, not until a case takes them into a forest, along with Lestrade's team and something happens that will change everything about their lives...

A Quiet Life by DiscordantWords (M, 25,176 w., 6 Ch. || Post S4, Retirement, POV Sherlock, Awkwardness, Established Relationship, Family Dynamics, Minor Character Death, Questionable Parenting Choices, Non-Linear Narrative, 20 Year Old Rosie, Meddling Mycroft, Pining Sherlock, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Angst, Sherlock Whump) – There had been three days of silence and a funeral. Sherlock had the terrible feeling that whatever happened next would depend, entirely, on him.

To Mend Icarus by AlessNox (T, 28,347 w., 14 Ch. || Post-TRF / Pre-S3 Divergence, BAMF John, Anger, Fighting, Sex, Bed Sharing, Stalking, Case Fic, John’s Past, Introspection, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Crime, Mythology, Darkness) – After a case lands John Watson in court, he tells Sherlock that he is leaving. Not understanding why, Sherlock decides that the only way to learn the truth is to investigate his flatmate, Dr. John Watson. Sherlock finds that coming back is not enough to fix all of the damage that he caused by leaving. A post Reichenbach, post reunion re-discovery fic.

Hellfire by testosterone_tea (E, 28,596 w., 9 Ch. || Fantasy / Magic / Mages / Elementals AU || Mage Sherlock, Elemental John, Developing Relationship, Torture, Powerful / BAMF John, POV Alternating, Dark / Blood Magic, UST, First Kiss) – Sherlock is a Mage that gets involved with a case involving Dark Summoning rituals, leading him to John Watson, a man with Berserker blood. The only thing is, Berserkers have been extinct for centuries. And of course, nothing involving Mycroft and his interfering ways is ever simple. This time, even Sherlock may have bitten off more than he can chew.

A Home for Us by sussexbound (M, 30,581 w., 12 Ch. || Scars, Bedsharing, Grief, Doctor John, Hurt/Comfort, Post-TRF, Implied/Referenced Torture, Sherlock POV, Pining Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation, Heavy Emotions, Clingy Sherlock, Hallucinations, Disassociation, Emotional Turmoil) – He has been on the road for two years, and he is exhausted. He’s almost accepted that he will never see London (John) again—almost. But then there are nights like tonight, where he is weak, and all he can think of is the warmth of the flat they once shared, the crackle of the fire in the hearth, the teasing smile playing at the corner of John’s lips, the boxes of half-eaten Chinese takeaway balanced precariously in their laps. He aches at the memory of it, at the realisation that it is something he may never experience again.

carrying up his morning tea by darcylindbergh (E, 34,504 w., 5 Ch. || Post S3, Minor Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Wakes/Funerals, Estranged John, Pining Sherlock, Depression/Insecurity, Slow Burn, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Chronic Pain/Injury, Reconciliation, Awkwardness, Loneliness, Scars, Angst With Happy Ending) – His fingers tremble as he dials and he can’t force them steady. Familiar number, even though he hasn’t used it in two years. He isn’t even sure he should be calling it now, but she’d asked. She’d made him promise.

(Never) Turn Your Back to the Sea by DiscordantWords (M, 39,968 w., 7 Ch. || Post S4 Fix It || Grief / Mourning, Victor Trevor, Friendship, Sherlock is Not Okay, Nightmares/Flashbacks/Panic Attacks, Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, John Comes Home) – Baker Street is very much the same. Only different. And Sherlock is just trying not to drown.

Only To Be With You by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (M, 40,768 w., 4 Ch. || Black Mirror / Future AU || Character Death, Future Technology, Sickness/Cancer/Illness, Heavy Angst with Happy Ending, First Person POV John, Pining John, Heart-Wrenching Angst) – I tell myself that next time I’ll come near this same place again. Wait around for the mysterious stranger in his coat to dash past me, hot on the heels of a new criminal in black. I think this all the way back to my Exit, planning where I’ll wait and what I’ll say when I see him. Scheming on how to get his name. It’s only once I reach the Exit Point door that I realize two hours and forty-five minutes have passed, and I realize that this won’t be the last time I Visit. It won’t be the last time at all.

Guidelines by WithLoweredVoices (M, 43,018 w., 15 Ch. || Winglock || Angels, Fantasy, Angst, BAMF! John, War, Jealous Sherlock, Possessive Sherlock, Jealous John, Falling in Various Ways) – The Good Soldier, one of the oldest and strongest of the fallen, is offered a bargain: to live as John Watson and to Guide a fledgling archangel so that he will stay on the path of good. Of course, Sherlock Holmes has different ideas about his destiny. Fantasy AU. Warnings for violence, occasional gore, and a whole load of hurt and angst.

The Real Great Perfumers by shelleysprometheus (E, 45,355 w., 68 Ch. || Case Fic, Alternating POV, Gay Sherlock / Bi John, Canon Compliant with Divergence at TRF, Friends to Lovers, Oral / Anal, Pining, First Kiss / Time, Dev. Rel., Drugging, Body Worship, Bathing, Love Confessions, Travelling, Bottomlock, Cranky Sherlock, BJ’s, Alternating POV, Jealous John) – The case, this case. This extraordinary, fascinating, scintillating case. A house. Designed entirely by its eccentric owner, built by no less than five hundred expert tradesmen in the heart of Marrakesh. A house that had, seemingly not only driven its owner out, but also to his quite unpleasant death. And a perfumer, a chemist no less, the very thought of the secrets that house could reveal, would reveal was irresistible. Sherlock had to have this case ... and it seems, he also had to have John! Part 1 of the Forethought and Fire series

Inscrutable to the Last by DiscordantWords (M, 48,842 w., 6 Ch. || Post-TRF, Alternate S3, John’s Blog/S3 is a Story By John, Divorce, Marital Difficulties, John is a Mess, Emotional Reunion, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Grief / Mourning, Pining John, First Kiss, Adorably Clueless Sherlock, Nostalgia, Love Confessions, Eventual Happy Ending) – He wasn't Sherlock, he couldn't work miracles. All he'd ever been able to do was write about them.

Impossible to Feign by achray (M, 49,204 w., 12 Ch. || TRF Rewrite / Reverse Reichenbach, Suicidal Ideations / Discussions, Drug Use/Abuse, Mutual Pining, Friends With Benefits, John Accepts his Sexuality, Anxious Sherlock, Meddling Mycroft, Depression, Hallucinations, Secret Agent John, BAMF John, Reunion, Make-Up Sex, Ambiguous Ending) – Sherlock leant forward, his long fingers curving round to grip John’s.“I won’t let him win,” he said, eyes hard. “I will do whatever it takes to get you out.”

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse by SilentAuror (E, 50,635 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4/S4 Divergence, Case Fic, For a Case / Reverse Fake-Relationship, Conferences, Marriage Equality, Travelling / New York, Pride, Homophobia, Bottomlock, Marriage Proposal, John POV, Sexuality, Love Confessions, Emotional Love Making, Public Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Passionate Kissing, Needy/Clingy Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Touching / Hand Holding, Bed Sharing, Little Spoon Sherlock, Intense Orgasms) – John and Sherlock go to New York to attend a conference run by the National Defence of Traditional Marriage Coalition in order to investigate the potential bombing of the annual Manhattan Pride parade. As the conference unfolds, John finds himself repulsed by the toxic ideology being presented, which becomes relevent to his own unacknowledged issues and his friendship with Sherlock...

Repairing the Broken Things by BakerTumblings (M, 75,252 w., 15 Ch. || S4 Compliant, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Trauma, Hospitals, Big Brother Mycroft, Misunderstandings, Realizations, Severe Accident, John Whump, Pneumonia, Medical Procedures, Bed Sharing, First Time, Healing, Happy Ending) – "I'm calling today to notify you that there's been an accident."

The Hollow Woman by ScopesMonkey (M, 51,335 w., 22 Ch. || Post-TRF, Major Character Death, Mystery, Romance, Friendship, Family, Angst, Crime, Reunion, First Kiss / Time, Nightmares, Doctor John, Jealous Sherlock, Jealous John, BAMF John, Angry John, Dub-Con, Rough Sex, Bottomlock, Possessive John, Villain Mary, Open Ending) – Forced to return to London sooner than expected, Sherlock falls into a case too close to home. Part 1 of the Hollowverse series

A Goose Quill Dipped in Venom by Polyphony (M, 52,748 w., 16 Ch. || Celebrity John AU || Alternate First Meeting, TV Host John, Supermodel Mary, Character Death, Mystery, Romance, Case Fic, First Kiss/Time, Meddling Mycroft, Drug Abuse, Doctor John, PDA, Deductions, POV Sherlock, Toplock, Sexual Tension, Angry/Rough Sex, Hopeful Ending, Asperger’s Sherlock) – Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective, is called in to a very ordinary although brutal murder. Something is badly out of tune with the whole scenario and Sherlock finds himself becoming more and more obsessed with the crime - and also with the victim.

Points by lifeonmars (E, 53,791 w., 42 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || HLV Rewrite / Canon Divergence, Married Life, Pregnancy / Baby Watson, Drinking to Cope, Boxing / Fisticuffs, Clueless John, Angst, Minor Medical Drama, Tattoos, Christmas, First Kiss/Time, Eventual Happy Ending, Love Confessions, Doctor John, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Burn, Case Fic, Drugging, Blow/Hand Job, Emotional Love Making, Parenthood, Passage of Time) – What if His Last Vow never happened? This fic picks up a few months after John and Mary's wedding, in an alternate universe where Magnussen doesn't exist, but Mary is still pregnant. Life continues -- just in a different direction. And slowly, Sherlock and John find their way to each other.

Never Change a Running System by Lorelei_Lee (E, 54,246 w., 18 Ch. || Pre-TRF, Romance, Humour, Drama, Sex Toys, Anal, Rimming, Masturbation, Frottage, Blow Jobs, Public Sex, First Kiss / Time, Virgin Sherlock / Loss of Virginity, Accidental Voyeurism, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Experiments, Naive Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Possessive Sherlock, Straight With an Exception John, Hand Jobs) – Sherlock discovers his sexuality – with far-reaching consequences for John.

Albion and the Woodsman by Glenmore (NR [E], 54,437 w., 50 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post S3, Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Angst, Family, Drug Use, Depression, Sherlock POV, Light Humour, Reconnecting, Declarations of Love) – Sherlock and John are devastated after Mary Morstan makes her final moves. Sherlock relapses at the crack house, John walks around the world … and a lot happens in between. Parentlock, in the good way.

The Thing Is by TSylvestris (E, 56,743 w., 21 Ch. || Case Fic, Dev. Rel., Anal/Oral, Blow Jobs, Meddling Mycroft, Drama, Romance, Humour, Casual Encounters, Pining Idiots, Possessive Sherlock, Orgasm Delay, Rough / Alley Sex, Public Sex, John Whump, Drugged John, Emotional Love Making, Awkward Relationship, Marriage of Convenience, Switchlock) – The problem with living with Sherlock, John thought, was that you never, never, ever knew the significance of anything. Like your flatmate's nose buried in your hair. Whilst you're in bed. Part 1 of Nitroglycerine

Lunar Landscapes by J_Baillier (M, 57,046 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || S3/TAB Fix-It, Slow Burn Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Confessions, Drugs, Pain, Medical, Injury, Sherlock Whump, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Romance, Secrets, Tragedy, Trauma, BAMF John, Doctor!John, Drug Addict Sherlock, Injured Sherlock, Grieving John, Idiots In Love, Protective John, POV John Watson, PTSD Sherlock, Sherlock is a Mess, Medical Realism) – An accident forces John to face the fact that Sherlock's downward spiral had started long before his flight to exile even left the tarmac.

The Bells of King's College by SilentAuror (E, 64,019 w., 5 Ch. || Post-S4, Missed Opportunities, Angst with Happy Ending, Fake Relationship, Case Fic, John POV, Jealous John, John in Denial, Travelling / Holidays, Virgin Sherlock, Wedding Proposals) – It's only been two weeks since Eurus Holmes disrupted their lives when Mycroft sends John and Sherlock to Cambridge to pose as an engaged couple at a wedding show in the hopes of solving six unsolved deaths...

Hell Sent, Heaven Bound by ConsultingHound (M, 64,381 w, 16 Ch. || Angels / Demons AU || Fallen Angel Sherlock / Angel Cop John, Alternate First Meeting, Slow Burn, Case Fic, John & Lestrade are Friends Before Sherlock, BAMF John, Mind Palace John, Friends to Lovers, John in Denial, Sherlock Picks Out John’s Clothing, Clubbing / Dancing, Mildly Jealous John, Awkwardness, Kidnapping, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Sacrifice, Worried / Anxious Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Immortal to Mortal) – Ex-War healer and current angelic guard John Watson is not having the best day. He overslept, he’s underpaid, and now there’s someone tagging the Council’s building walls. However things may be about to get interesting: there’s an unusual stranger hanging around (the definition of tall, dark, and handsome), a literal underground cult is brewing, and rumblings are coming from hell. Can he keep his neighbourhood safe, how and why is he being connected to all this, and who the hell is Sherlock Holmes?

White Knight by DiscordantWords (M, 69,840 w., 13 Ch. || S4 Compliant/Post S4, Marriage For a Case, Jealous John, Pining John, Janine / Sherlock Fake Relationship, Serial Killers, Case Fic, Undercover as a Couple, Weddings, John is a Mess, Misunderstandings, Wedding Planning, Jealousy, Drunkenness, Love Confessions, Angst with Happy Ending) – Green. The word green was used to convey a great many things. Illness. Envy. Inexperience. Standing there amidst Janine's chattering bridesmaids, watching Sherlock furrow his brow and study fabric swatches, watching him smile and simper and flirt, John thought it a remarkably apt colour choice. Because he felt quite sick to his stomach, he feared the source of said sickness might very well be jealousy, and he had absolutely no idea at all what to do about it. Or: Sherlock needs to fake a relationship for a case. He doesn't ask John.

Just To Hold You Close by sussexbound (E, 70,841 w., 18 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting, Sherlock POV, ASD Sherlock, PTSD John, Demisexual Sherlock, Bisexual John, Cuddling/Snuggling, Platonic Cuddling, Enthusiastic Consent, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, First Kiss/Time, Sexual Tension, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Cuddle Negotiations, For a Case Until It Isn’t, Hair Petting, Sexual Negotiation, Anxiety, Trust Issues, Slow Burn, Panic Attacks, Frottage, Hand/Blow Jobs, Referenced Self Harm / Abuse / Suicidal Ideation, First Kiss/Time, Anal) – When a woman is murdered and the last person to see her alive is recently invalided army vet turned reluctant (and prickly) professional cuddler, John Watson, Sherlock Holmes is pulled into a world of intimacy and intrigue he never could have imagined. John is a conundrum and mystery: frank yet reserved, tender yet angry, open yet afraid. Sherlock is instantly drawn into his orbit, and begins to feel and desire things he never has before.

The Vapor Variant by 88thParallel (CanadaHolm) (M, 72,684 w., 18 Ch. || Post-THoB, John Whump, Protective Sherlock, Guilty Sherlock, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD John, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Suspense, Virus, Sickfic, Big Brother Mycroft) – They stood face to face in the middle of a clearing. The dim light of the moon barely allowed Sherlock to see the glassy terror in John’s eyes and the sweat that glistened off his forehead. His nose was bleeding again, blood dripping in a slow stream from his right nostril. They were both gasping for air, John’s eyes locked on Sherlock’s. There was no recognition there, just wild animal fear. Time stood still for an eternal few seconds, and Sherlock took a shaky breath. “John—”Spell broken, John spun and bolted back into the woods. Still heaving for air, Sherlock took off after him.

The Monument of Memory by J_Baillier (M, 79,663 w., 14 Ch. || Post S4 Fix It Fic / S4 is Canon, Angst, Family Drama, Guilt, Case Fic, John Loves Sherlock, Complicated Feelings, Mentalism / Hypnosis, Murder, Grieving John, Sherlock is a Bit Not Good, Team Work, Trust Issues, BAMF John, Psychological Trauma, Protective John, Autistic-Spectrum Sherlock, Parentlock, John POV) – A genius traumatised by a past he's only beginning to recall. The psychopath sister that time forgot. A missing woman and a mentalist who may or may not be a murderer. And, in the middle of it all, stands John Watson.

Thermocline by J_Baillier (M, 83,557 w., 14 Ch. || Scuba Diving AU || Adventure, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Marine Archaeology, Asexual Sherlock, Horny John, Relationship Drama, Technical/Scuba/Wreck Diving, Slow Burn, Underwater / Medical Peril, Doctor John, Hurt Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock, John POV, Protective John, Body Appreciation) – John "Five Oceans" Watson — technical dive instructor, dive accident analyst and weapon of mass seduction — meets recluse professor of maritime archaeology Holmes. As they head out to a remote archipelago off the coast of Guatemala to study and film its shipwrecks for a documentary, will sparks fly or fizzle out?

Not Broken, Just Bent by Schmiezi (E, 87,585 w., 43 Ch. || Pining, Love Confessions, Rape/Sexual Assault, Torture, Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Villain!Mary, Suicidal Ideations, Main Character Death, Sherlock First Person POV, Parentlock, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Grief/Mourning, Emotional Love Making, Possessiveness, Depression, PTSD, Kidnapping, Virgin Sherlock, Eventual Happy Ending) – "For a second, I allow myself to remember teaching John how to waltz. There is a special room in my mind palace for it. A big one, with a proper parquet dance floor. For a second, I go there. I remember holding him, closer than the World Dance Council asks for, excusing it with the fact that we are training for a wedding, not for a competition. For a second, I feel his hand on mine again, smell his sweat, hear the song we used. For a second, I allow myself to love him deeply. For a second, only a second, that love reflects on my face." Fix-it for S3, starting at the end of TSoT. Evil Mary.

Kintsukuroi by sussexbound (E, 91,823 w., 20 Ch. || S4 Compliant / Post-TLD, Grief / Mourning, PTSD, Internalized Homophobia, Therapy, Past Abuse, Alcohol Abuse, Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Depression, Anxiety, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, Cuddling, Suicidal Ideation, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Sexting, Frottage, Inexperienced Sherlock, Rimming / Anal / BJ’s, Emotional Turmoil, Finding Each Other) – “I love you.” Sherlock sees the words hit John with almost physical force. He reels back a little, jaw twitching and eyes filling. “I love you,” he repeats, a little softer, a little more gentle, as earnest as he possibly can. Because they’ve been teetering on the brink of this thing for years, and it had become painfully obvious over the last few months that they were at a tipping point. This had to happen. Now it has. Now they can see where they end up. The tears in John’s eyes spill over, and he wipes at them angrily. “Do you even know what that means?”

The Summer Boy by khorazir (T, 94,706 w., 6 Ch. || Post S3/Post TAB/Alternate S4, Friends to Lovers, Asexual Sherlock, POV Sherlock, Flashbacks, Bullying, 1980′s Kid Sherlock, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Inexperienced Sherlock, Grief/Mourning, Pining Sherlock, Case Fic, Sherlock’s Past, Awkward Conversations, Anxious Sherlock, John Separated From His Child) – About half a year after the fateful events at Appledore, Sherlock and John embark on a private case in Sussex. For Sherlock, it’s a journey into his past, bringing up memories both happy and sad that he has locked away for almost thirty years. For John, it means coming to terms with the present – and a potential future with Sherlock. Part 1 of the The Summer Boy series

Northwest Passage by Kryptaria (E, 95,157 w., 27 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Canadian AU || BAMF!John, Canadian John, PTSD, Anal / Oral Sex, Rimming, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Drug Rehab, Falling in Love, Pining Sherlock, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Violin, Panic Attacks, Switching, Anxious / Protective Sherlock, Hugs for Comfort, Suicide Mentions, Healing Each Other) – Seven years ago, Captain John Watson of the Canadian Forces Medical Service withdrew from society, seeking a simple, isolated life in the distant northern wilderness of Canada. Though he survives from one day to the next, he doesn't truly live until someone from his dark past calls in a favor and turns his world upside-down with the introduction of Sherlock Holmes." Part 1 of Tales from the Northwest

The Cost of a Wish by slashscribe (E, 102,493 w., 12 Ch. || xxxHolic Fusion || Spirits / Ghosts and Magic, Love Confessions, Slow Burn, Soul Mates / Fated Lovers, Adventure, Immortal Sherlock, Powerful John, POV John, Frottage, Wish Granting, Angst with Happy Ending, Nightmares) – John has been plagued by a secret his entire life that has made him feel hopeless until he meets a mysterious, seemingly omniscient man named Sherlock Holmes who owns a wish-granting shop. Their meeting sets off a series of inevitable events that will change the course of both of their lives forever.

Two Two One Bravo Baker by abundantlyqueer (E, 114,574 w., 27 Ch. || Military AU || Afghanistan, War Story, Thriller) – Captain John Watson of 40 Commando, the Royal Marines, is assigned to protect and assist Sherlock Holmes as he investigates what appears to be a simple war atrocity in Afghanistan. An intense attraction ignites between the two men as they uncover a conspiracy that threatens everything they’ve ever known, but Sherlock is as much hunted as hunter, and everyone close to him is in deadly danger. Can he solve the case in time to save himself and John? Part 1 of Two Two One Bravo Baker Universe

A Further Sea by i_ship_an_armada & ShinySherlock (E, 125,492 w., 23 Ch. || Historical Pirates AU || Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Doctor John / Pirate Captain Sherlock, Sailing, UST / RST, Masturbation, Action / Adventure, Mild Angst & Peril, Romance, Shaving, Molly/Janine, Bottomlock, Past Drug Use, Slow Burn, Mild Violence, Happy Ending) – Here be a tale of adventure for both body and soul, but beware if ye be not of stout heart, for this be piratelock, ya savvy? Luckless ship's surgeon John Watson takes a chance, and finds himself eye to eye with The Ghost, the scourge of the seven seas and a definite thorn in the side of the blaggard, James Moriarty. But when John finds there's more to this most cunning pirate than be meetin' the eye, he has to choose... is it a pirate's life for him?

The Bang and the Clatter by earlgreytea68 (M, 137,049 w., 37 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Baseball AU || Slow Burn / Dev. Rel., Possessive/Obsessive Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Body Appreciation, Depression, Closeted Sexuality, Family, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Ogling Each Other, Anxious Sherlock, Panic Attack, Drunkenness, Talk of Forever, Big Feelings™) – Sherlock Holmes is a pitcher and John Watson is a catcher. No, no, no, it's a baseball AU. Part 1 of Baseball

The Adventure of the Silver Scars by tangledblue (NR [M], 142,458 w., 41 Ch. || S3 Fix-It, Post-HLV/ Post-TAB / Canon Compliant, Case Fic, No Baby, Angst, Humour, UST, Slow Burn, Angry John, Reconciliation, Not Nice Mary / Leaving Mary, Dependent Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Caretaker John, Fist Fights, It’s An Experiment, Virgin Sherlock, Dancing, Drugging, John Whump, Pet Names, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Scars) – It’s been thirteen months since Mary shot Sherlock and John finds he’s still pissed off about it. Sherlock had thought everything was settled: John and Mary, domestic bliss. But when John turns up at Baker Street with suitcases, the world’s only consulting detective might not be prepared for the consequences. A new case. Some old scores to settle. Certain danger. Concertos, waltzes, and whisky.

The Lost Special: Family Matters (As Do Relationships) by ShirleyCarlton (M, 144,688 w., 40 Ch. || S4 Fix It Fic / Meta Fic, Unreliable Narrator, John’s Mind Bungalow, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Demisexual Sherlock, Holmes Family, John Whump, Gay Mycroft, Misunderstandings, Drug Addiction, Parenting, TFP is a Nightmare, Virgin Sherlock, Slow Burn, Minor Character Death, Switchlock, John’s Past, Sherlock’s Past, Eurus, Love Confessions) – Sherrinford is not really the name of some high security prison. That was just a figment of John’s frantic coma dream. And Eurus is not actually Sherlock’s sister. That’s just something random she said to John before shooting him. Sherlock and John were never actually estranged. That was just their act to cover up what really happened to Mary – or Rosamund Moran, as her real name has turned out to be. Sherlock does have a secret sibling, though, and his name is Sherrinford. After finally eliminating Moran – though in a rather dramatically different way than they had envisioned – and exposing the truth about Eurus, John encourages Sherlock to delve into his past and to find out whether the reasons to keep Sherrinford away from Sherlock were the right ones, and to discover what really happened in 1981. Along the way, Sherlock and John gradually, finally, stop keeping each other at a distance, and eventually become a proper family of their own.

Against the Rest of the World by SilentAuror (E, 151,714 w., 20 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF, Hiatus Fic, POV First Person Sherlock, Present Tense, First Kiss/Time, Big Brother Mycroft, Escaping from Capture, Soft Sherlock, Toplock, Insecurity, Infidelity, Travelling, Introspection, Pining Sherlock, Depression, Fantasies, Yearning for the Past, PTSD Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation) – Sherlock has been away from London for nine hundred and twelve days and counting, and has no idea what sort of reception to expect when he finally returns.

Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #angry john #cranky john #my fic recs #long post

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hwrryscherry · 4 years

Text

The one with the accidental tiktok part.1 .

characters: HARRYxMODELY/N

blurb: Harry and Model Y/N always record tons of tiktoks together but Y/N never post it. Then on a date night they record a funny tiktok and she accidentaly posts one.

word count: 1.989K

author's note: I received this request and I just wanna say how much I loved it. The concept it's everything so thank you to whoever sent me this and I hope you like it💗💗

here's how the tiktok was like: click here

You and Harry have this tradition of cooking together every Friday night. It was a moment where it was just you and him and no one else doing something you love to do. It’s a time to connect and spend quality time together as a couple and actually, most of the time those cooking nights ends up on a very spicy night, if you know what I mean.

This Friday, you both are currently in Palm Springs. You and Harry decided to rent a house in there, so he didn’t have to drive from LA every morning and this would make things easier. The house itself had a really calming Californian desert vibe, it was really colorful and had a yellow front door that you loved the most. It even made you tell Harry you wanted to dye your front door in LA yellow because it just made the whole place feels happier.

It was already 7:30 pm now and you were sitting on the living room sofa in your gray sweatpants, turtleneck blouse and your damp hair being just showered. Your day was full, you took some photos for Cosmopolitan magazine so there were people putting a lot of makeup on you and touching your hair all day long and honestly, after all these quarantine months you weren’t pretty used to it. Messy hair, no makeup and sweatpants were your daily routine now. So at that moment, an eye mask, comfortable socks, sweatpants and spending time with your favorite man in the world were all you wanted.

You continue to go through the Instagram feed when you hear the sound of keys and then the front door opens. Your eyes met the apparently tired figure of Harry entering through it, you didn't judge him. This man was waking up every day at 5 in the morning and came home around this time, but you knew it was for something good and that he was actually having a great time on set. Your dog, Charlie immediately ran up to Harry, barking a little and basically jumping at the man's feet. Harry smiled tenderly and crouched down to pet the little dog, while you closed your laptop and stood up walking towards your tired boyfriend. He stood up when you approached him trying to smile at you, but you could see in his beautiful green eyes that he was really tired. You smiled at the boy, placing your left hand on his shoulder, approaching to give a peck on his lips and then you ran your hand through his hair, making him sigh with satisfaction at the feeling he loved.

— Hi! — You spoke in a cheerful tone but not so much, it was calm, but he could feel in your voice that you were trying to cheer him up — How was it today? You look tired, my darling.

He then sighed as he put his keys and cellphone on the small table by the door.

— I am! I had so many scenes today, and to make matters worse, I had to redo the same scene about four times! — Harry said, sounding frustrated

— Oh, I'm sorry! — You said, propping up the on wall right behind you and crossing your arms trying to think of some way to make his day better. —

Why don't you take a shower, use the bath bubbles and relax? And I’ll order something for us to eat, anything you want. What do you think? Pizza, Chinese food? Anything you want.

— But today is Friday, we always cook together on Fridays! — Harry argued, frowning at your suggestion. And you actually did, it was probably one of the few things you both did by the beggining of your relationship that became a tradition to you.

— But you're tired, and it can be cool too either way! — You said, placing your hands on his shoulders starting to massage them calmly, then giving a small kiss on the back of Harry’s neck.

— No, no! It’s alright! — Harry said, shrugging you off and starting to walk straight to the bedroom while you followed him thinking what the hell did he wanted to say with that. It’s the confusion for me. He walked into the master suite bathroom starting to take off his shirt. You were surprised by the lack of tattoos, of course you knew they were covering it up for the film but it was really hard to get used to it, when you were so used to seeing his tattoos for almost three years now — I’ll take a relaxing bath and then I’ll be ready so we can cook together and bing watch a show or a movie, okay? — Harry said entering the shower. You really didn’t matter to skip one cooking night, but it was important to Harry, he loved those nights as much as you did and he didn’t want to make you lose a cooking date because of his tiredness. You just agreed with him even though you were not doing it.

So, you just went back to the living room where you took your cell phone on the couch and ordered Chinese food, since you both loved it. It didn't take long for Harry to come out of the bathroom in his sweatpants and damp hair. You sure loved Harry anyway, but when he was like that, with the damp hair of someone who just got out of the bath he literally looked like a Greek god. He sat beside her on the couch, lifting his legs and placing them over his lap. Harry propped his head on the back of the couch watching you place your cell phone on the coffee table.

— Have you decided on today's recipe? — He asked, stroking his calf.

— No, I ordered food! — You answered calmly watching the boy's facial expressions change.

— What? Because? I said we could cook! — Harry said settling himself on the sofa so he could face her better.

— You said, but we can't! — You replied approaching your face to him, putting your arms over your shoulders — But it will be cool too. We can eat, watch some movies, some tiktoks, I can even massage you since you have the worst back in the world! — Harry chuckled at hearing his words, not that you could say anything about bad backs, but he will just let it go for the moment.

Harry leaned in kissing your lips as his right hand was now in your cheek. Deep down, he knew this was exactly the best thing for today. The kiss started to get steamy. It was slow but passionate, Harry slid his hand that was previously on your cheek down your body until it reached your waist where he lifted you and placed you on his clothed lap.

You brought your right hand to the boy's neck and pulled his hair lightly causing Harry to groan as he squeezed your waist. He slid one of his hands down the sides of your body and brought it back to your cheek where he started to kiss your neck making you roll your eyes. It wasn’t anything higly sexual, it was more about the intimacy, the initmacy of being so closed to his lover.

And then the doorbell rang alerting that his order had arrived causing you to llet out a frustrated sigh as you separated the kiss looking at the smirk on your boyfriend's lips.

— Chinese food... — You said withdrawing from his lap and getting up starting to walk to the door.

— I said it would be better to have cooked! — Harry said ironically running his hands over his thighs covered in sweatpants.

You had already paid by credit card over the phone so thank god it was just getting the food. You returned to the living room in a few seconds, placing the packages on the coffee table and sitting on the carpet. Harry then slid from the couch to the carpet on the floor and sat beside you.

— Should we film a tik tok? — You said, opening the bags getting your orders out of it. You ordered Chicken Yakisoba for you and shrimp yakisoba to Harry as he’s a pescatarian — Like, while we eat! We’re never gonna post it, so whatever!

— Sure! — Harry said, handing you your phone and grabbing his order — Oh, which one should we do? Like, the couple challenge, or should we like lip sing to one? — Harry asked.

— Oh, OH! I saw a heard an audio today — You started laughing just about remembering it. Harry thought it was so adorable when you’d do it, so whenever you were trying to tell a story and started laughing because you remember it perfectly and it was so funny to you, he’d just stay there with a cheeky smile admiring your face and laugh — Alright, so it’s like a song and then the girl it’s singing like ‘’my man ain’t shit’’, ‘’my man ain’t shit’’.

— Excuse me?? Why would we do it? I’m like the coolest person! — Harry interrupted you making you look at him with a mocking look.

— ANYWAY, wait for it! — You put a few strands of your hair behind your ear while taking the spring roll with a napkin — Then the girl says like ‘’why you won’t leave him?’’ and she answers ‘’’cause bitch, dick too bomb’’. — You couldn’t help laughing at it, because it was just so funny to you. Harry laughed too, he loved that you could find the funny side in the silliest things, but could also be so mature when it was needed.

— Ok, I like how it turned out, let’s do it! — Harry said taking a bite of his food as making you chuckle. It was true though, this man’s dick? too bomb.

You then entered the tik tok app and prepared everything and positioned the phone in front of you both.

— Wait, what should I do? — Harry asked as he stand up behind you.

— Nothing, just copy the obscene gesture that I’ll do in the end and you’ll be fine. — You said with a mocking smile at him.

— Why? I wanted to lip sing too! — Harry said, looking at the camera, pouting like a child.

— Because I don’t have a dick, so it would be weird if you sang! — You argued, turning your head to face him.

— Oh, is there any audios about boobs? Because love, yours are spectacular — He said widening his eyes, making you laugh and turn again to face the camera now.

— Ok, focus Harry, focus! — You said as you press the button to film and started lip singing. When the time ended, you both sat down to watch it and it actually turned out really funny, and Harry doing the gesture was totally the best part of it.

When you were about to save it privately on the app, Harry accidentally spilled the soy sauce on the carpet. Yes, the white carpet in your rented house. You clicked on any button to save the video and ran to get a floor cloth or anything that could remove that stain. In fact, you knew I wasn't going to leave, the act of trying to clean up was a spur of the moment. Well, you couldn’t clean it and a few minutes later your cell phones started to vibrate a lot due to notifications and when you clicked to see what it was they saw that in the moment of despair, you didn’t press the button that would save the video privately, but yes to post publicly. The video was basically all over the social network and even if you delete it now, you very much doubt that the whole world hasn't seen it yet.

#harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry and y/n #harry styles and y/n #HARRYxMODELY/N #hwrryscherry

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marvelsimp · 4 years

Text

The New Kid: Arrived

The New KId Masterlist

Ch. 4

Genre: Fluff, Angst Pairing: Peter x Lesbian!reader (Platonic duh), Avengers & Reader Warnings: swearing, nerdiness, mentions of homophobia and being kicked out, panic attack, Description: Y/n's birthday continues. Reader’s Powers: Healing, telepathy, and empath. Word Count: 2,217

“Cupcake, please.” says a small voice, Morgan.

This causes the room to erupt in everyone’s laughter including your own. The group then sings “Happy Birthday” to you and as you blow out the candles you wish that one day your parents will love you enough and that if that doesn’t that you will be okay.

“Morgan,” you say calmly, “You get to pick the first cupcake since you asked so nicely.”

She smiles and jumps up and down. She takes a second but finally picks one. You decide to take the one from the top and very happily take a bite.

“Hey, before everyone splits off,” Peter says, “Let’s get Y/n to open her presents!”

Presents? Seriously? Today was honestly enough. You open your mouth to protest but Peter stuffs your cupcake in your face and leads you to a chair that’s surrounded by gifts. He forces you to sit down just as you get the last bit of icing off of your nose. “You guys seriously didn’t have to get me gifts, today was enough.”

“Shut up,” Peter retorts.

You put your hands saying, ‘ok fine.’

“Open mine first!” yells Carol.

You blush, you honestly forgot you were still holding it. You open the bag and inside is a Captain Marvel plushie, you let out a chuckle and get it out of the bag to show everyone. There are a few laughs and aww’s around the room. You look up at Carol who’s grinning and give her a nod of approval which she seems to enjoy.

You next grab a small box it reads ‘The Starks’ and you open it, it’s a bracelet. Tony tells you about its functions and how to use it. Most importantly, you can get her to send messages although you can’t hear Friday through it.

The next gift is from Nat and Clint, it’s a few sets of training clothes. She informs you that in a week you’ll start basic combat training, you aren’t too excited but it's better than dying. That training will also help teach you about the present from the Starks.

Next is a gift from Scott, Hope, and Cassie it’s a beautiful Captain Marvel necklace. You look up at Peter, “So you told EVERONE.” There are a few nods around the room, and you can feel carol trying not to laugh. You blush a little harder.

Next is a gift from Sam, Steve, and Bucky as you open it you let out an evil laugh, there’s around Spider-Man pillow. You quickly pull it out of the bag and smack Peter in the face causing him to fall on the floor. There is an eruption of laughter. “Okay, I like her!” Sam yells. You look back in the bag and there is a set of matching Spiderman PJ’s. You get them out and toss a pair to Peter, who is still on the floor. There were a few ‘awws’ to that one.

“Well,” I’ve got to put this one to bed,” Pepper said standing up.

Morgan pouted.

Pepper picked her up, dismissing Morgan’s protests. “I might come back down once she’s asleep. Happy Birthday, Y/n!”

“Happy Birthday,” waved Morgan who was still very annoyed that she had to sleep.

“Sweet Dreams,” you tell Morgan waving back. As they get on the elevator you pick up a tiny bag that’s from Ned, when you open it you discover a Deathstar keychain. You tear up a little bit and explain to everyone how you met Peter. (In case you don’t remember, Y/n first messaged Peter after he posted a picture of the LEGO DethStar.)

Next, you open it from MJ, it has three books in it. MJ is quick to explain that she wanted to share her favorite but couldn’t pick just one. You thank her you know how important books are to her.

Next is a rectangular box from Thor ‘and Loki’ seems to be added later. In it is a simple yet beautiful dagger, it leaves you a little confused, but Nat offers to teach you how to use it and you accept.

You still three gifts and one card left. You decide to go on ahead and open up the card, it’s from Rhodey. You open it and it’s just a simple Birthday card signed Rhodey and $20 falls out when you open it. “Like I said I didn’t know until this morning and I had to come from the west coast.” His defense makes you smile, and you assure him that you’re pleased.

Next is a large gift bag from Wanda inside is a large amount of “spa day” items, bath bombs, face masks, candles, etc. You tell all the teens, including her, that there has to be a spa day. The girls accept pretty quickly while Ned and Peter are a little more hesitant but accept anyways. The next gift is from Bruce, it’s a decently large box.

You start to unwrap it and discover it to be a microscope, you let out an excited gasp. “I saw yours this morning, it looked ancient so I thought you might enjoy a newer model,” Bruce explains, “We do have some more powerful ones in the lab, but I thought that you might enjoy your own.” You’re like a kid on Christmas, excited to try out all of your new gifts.

“One more,” Peter smiles handing you a bag. It’s from him, obviously, you take out the tissue paper and there are two toy lightsabers one has “Peter” engraved on it and the other one has “Y/n.”

“Haha, you nerd!” you giggle out. You grab yours and toss Peter his. You stand up and turn on your saber. You pause for a second, looking for his approval. He nods in return.

“I have brought peace, freedom, justice, and security to my new empire.”

“Your new Empire?” Peter replies in the worst British accent you’ve ever heard.

You can’t contain your giggles, neither can Peter or Ned.

“Don’t make me kill you,” you say trying to contain your smile.

Tony has his hand on his head, you can hear him mutter, “Dear god, not another one,” under his breath.

“Anakin, my allegiance is to the republic, to Democracy!”

You start to carefully walk around Peter, “If you are not with me, then you are my enemy.”

“Only a Sith deals in absolutes. I will do what I must.”

“You will try.” That’s when the very epic battle began, as you fought you both making noises like “Vruummummm” or “Schvrmmmm.”

You could see Bucky’s concerned/confused face that Steve seemed to be amused at. You also saw Steve lean down and whisper something in Bucky’s ear which seemed to calm him. Finishing the battle, you jumped up in the air as Peter pretended to chop off your limbs.

He laughed and reached his hand out for you to get up. You accept and he pulls you up. The crowd is laughing and a few of them are clapping so you and Peter bow which causes them to clap a little louder and a few cheers.

“Imma guess that you’ve never seen Star Wars,” you say to Bucky as you go to reclaim your seat. He just shakes his head.

“Well, that’s a problem,” laughs Peter.

You nod, “That means a movie marathon sometime soon.”

Over the next two hours, the group just hangs out. You disperse back into smaller groups. Rhodey and Carol have to leave about 30 minutes after the battle. They both wish you a Happy Birthday and go back to the west coast or space.

You’re with the teen group, Wanda and you are the only two who are done with high school, Peter, Ned, and MJ still have a year and a half while Cassie has two and a half left. Wanda is nice, she could snap any of you in half if needed but you know that she wouldn’t. Cassie is pretty goofy like her dad; she and Wanda aren’t nearly as nerdy as the rest of the group, but they know enough to keep up.

“Ok so why do you like the sequels better?” Peter asks, he already knows the answer but wants you to say it.

You let out a nervous laugh. “Come on, Pete.”

He grins waiting for your answer.

“Fine,” you say lowering your head a little bit in shame. “I don’t like the others as much because of how they sound.”

“What?” Ned breathes out.

“I know! It's just… they sound so weird and fake. I hate it.”

Wanda giggles at your answer, which causes you to smile.

“Y/n, I don’t even know what to say,” giggles Ned. “Seriously, that’s the reason?”

MJ looks down at her phone, “Oh, shit I got a curfew.”

Ned’s eyes widen, “Me, too!”

You hug them both as they wish you Happy Birthday again.

“I kinda wanna put on my PJ’s,” says Cassie, she, Scott, and Hope are staying the night.

“Yeah,” you say looking at Peter, reminding him of your matching PJs’.

As you and Peter go down the hall to go to your rooms, Peter takes you into his room. “I have one more gift for you,” he says smiling a little. He grabs a box from his desk and opens it. It’s a lesbian pride flag, you smile and wrap your arms around him. You’ve never had one before.

Peter shoves you out the door after you separate from the hug. He tells you to put on your PJs. When you walk into your new room you set your new flag on your desk. You quickly head to your bathroom and change. When you step back into your room a surge of emotions rush through you. You’re so happy that you’re there but all that you want to do is tell your parents. On your bedside table is a picture of the three of you, it’s one of your favorites. You pick it up. It was taken on your first day of high school and you all look so happy. Why couldn’t they just be here? Why did they have to kick you out? Why? Why did they not love you? You see your tears drop onto the picture.

Your angry, you’re so angry that they’re not there. You just want to hug them and tell them about how great your day was and how fun it was. You want to just want to be able to collapse into them because of how exhausted you are, but you can’t. You can’t because they are not there. They’re not there because they kicked you out. And they kicked you out because they don’t love you enough to have a lesbian as a daughter. And do you want to know the worst part of it? You still love them.

You throw the picture against the wall, causing the glass to shatter. Why couldn’t they just love you are you are? You didn’t decide to be this, you just are. You can’t breathe. You can’t get any air in it's like the world is You let out a sob. What parents would decide not to abandon their child because of who they love?

Peter enters with some of your gifts. He sees the picture on the floor and picks it up, putting it on your desk. He drops the gifts he is holding and rushes to your side. Steve and Bucky are behind him with gifts in their arms as well. They were smiling at first but now they’re concerned. Peter sits down on the bed next to you, his eyes are asking you what’s wrong. Steve and Bucky quickly set down the rest of the gifts and leave.

“Y/n, what’s wrong?” he looks concerned, sad. “You gotta breathe.”

“They don’t love me,” you explain in between sobs.

Peter’s concern turns into anger, he can’t believe that someone’s parents would kick out their wonderful daughter just because she likes girls. “Fuck them,” he says pulling you into his chest as you sob. “You are incredible, Y/n. You deserve the world, but they are too stupid and too blind by their stupid ass beliefs to see that. You are one of the best, kindest, most intelligent people I know and if they don’t see that as worth it then fuck them.”

You let out a small chuckle. He tells you to follow his breathing and you do. After a few minutes, you’ve calmed down. “I still love them.”

Peter pauses for a second. “Of course, you do,” he sighs, “You’re allowed to love them, they’re your parents. But that doesn’t mean that they didn’t hurt you or that you can’t hate them. THEY are in the wrong, not you. You never forget that you did absolutely wrong and you are not wrong. You are perfectly you.” He pauses for a second, not because he doesn't know what to say and not because of what he is going to say, he's told you a million times before so it isn't new. But because of how important it is that you hear it. “And I love you, I’ll love you enough for both of them and more, Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Come on,” Peter says wiping his eyes. “Let’s go watch a Pixar movie and eat some ice cream.”

Next Chapter

Arrived - deleted scene

#Avengers #avengers x reader #avengers x platonic reader #peter parker x platonic!reader #peter parker #spiderman #reader #reader-insert #wanda x reader eventual #avengers x lesbian #lesbian #lesbian reader

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youarejesting · 4 years

Text

BTS Seoul mates: Dulcet Couple.5

[MASTERLIST]

Beta: @xiaokoo Pairing: Yoongi x Reader Genre: Romance, comedy, angst, fluff, soulmate au Words: 1.1k

Summary: You were connect through music. Yoongi a member of BTS and a music producer was having trouble concentrating. If he sang baby shark one more time he would pour hot coffee over his computer and give up his career to hunt you down personally.

You were happy to see the bags under Aster’s eyes had faded a little and you were also surprised to see Alexa standing in the entrance with Adora. The two were wearing masks, “You can’t leave for two weeks due to quarantine but after that, you should be free to visit the town. Just remember to wear your masks girls.” Adora said with a sweet reprimanding tone.

Adora waved goodbye saying she would come around one afternoon to have tea, before heading back out into the corridor.

It was kind of funny how silent it was, it must have really sucked being the last soulmate to join the house so you took it upon yourself to make Alexa feel at home.

“Since Alexa is the last one to join the house it must feel a bit intimidating or exclusive so let’s all try to be nice and accommodating to her. I know I would feel odd being last, so I will give Alexa the tour of the house. How about you all prepare some snacks and drinks and maybe we can sit and get to know one another?” You gave out some jobs and realised you probably should check in with Alexa, “Unless you would like some time to freshen up or rest?”

“Uh, I am a bit jet lagged but I would like to hole out until it’s night time to go to sleep try to assimilate this new sleep schedule” Alexa gave a bright grin as she looked around, “This place is really pretty, I would love a tour?”

“Sweet, this way we will show you to your new bedroom.” you smiled, leading her through the house and explaining the rooming situation. “We thought you would like your own room, so we gave you Imogen’s old room.”

“Thank you, you didn’t have to. I don’t mind and I don’t want to burden anyone by being here,” Alexa moved with certainty. She was poised unlike her clumsy counterpart and reminded them of a really tan vampire. Her dark hair and eyes were sultry. She felt like someone tough who could protect you.

The tour ended with Alexa unpacking and handing out a few gifts to the girls, some got bath bombs others received scented candles. She had given Aster a weighted blanket that she said might help her fall asleep when she was on her own. “Wait we didn’t get you a gift?” Aster said a little disappointed, Aster loved giving gifts more than she received them. You believed giving gifts was how Aster showed her love, but how she received it was almost identical to Jimin receiving praise. Yoongi also liked words of praise even if he didn’t admit it but he prefered to show you how much he loved you from acts of service. Getting things you need and being there to help with jobs. He liked to be a silent helper, not to draw too much attention to himself.

“That’s okay, it is my culture to give gifts when meeting your inlaws and well I consider you part of Namjoon’s family” Alexa smiled, the group sat in the lounge room talking and eating snacks. It started to rain late into the afternoon and as the evening drew near the power went out.

“We could play a game.”

“Sure what game?”

“Monopoly?”

“No to high stress.”

“What about scrabble?”

“It’s in Korean.”

“Yeah scratch that.”

“Hmm, we could play bts uno?” Imogen laughed, cutting through the chaos by holding up the pack of cards and searching everyone’s faces for confirmation.

“Sure,” everyone seemed to agree. It didn’t take long for you all to grow comfortable with one another. The sound of someone's stomach growling caught your attention, “we should make dinner,” Thank gosh the portable gas stove was stored in the cupboard. Lighting candles around the room, you began preparing some ramen for everyone to enjoy.

They all seemed to grow more excited as the aroma of the noodles filled the room, carrying the pot over and placing it on the pot cloth to protect the wood you each began eating, their fill.

The sound of keys jingling in the door across the hall alerted them to the boys finally returning home, there was a knock and beau rushed to the door and opened it.

“Welcome back!” She chimed and Taehyung was quick to enter smelling the ramen and sitting behind Iris and stealing some of her noodles.

“They were mine, and you didn’t even say hi to me.” She pouted.

“I am sorry my love, I saw you were eating ramen and I was so hungry,” Taehyung apologised pulling her into his lap, squeezing her tightly.

“Next time I will eat with my eyes closed and then you won’t see anything,” she said closing her eyes “what do you see now huh?”

“I see the most beautiful girl in my world, the love of my life,” he kissed Iris’ lips.

You got up abandoning the noodles and heading to the boys dorm where Yoongi was dropping his things off in his room. He knew it would be loud in the other dorm so preferred to stay clear of the noise. Leaning your head against the open door you watched him unpack.

“How was the performance?” You asked curiously watching him stretch his shoulders.

“Tiring,” he slumped on the bed. You crawled behind him and began gently massaging his shoulder trying to relieve the pain.

“You need to get this shoulder looked at Yoongi it is causing you so much pain” you spoke softly, it hurt to see your soulmate in pain it became your own pain but worse because you couldn’t ease it you couldn’t take the pain from him, you just had to watch him suffer.

“Just lay with me for a little bit,” Yoongi smiled, laying back and holding you. It was sweet feeling his hand on your waist and his breath against your cheek, it was a little laboured but each exhale came out softer until he had finally relaxed in your arms. “You smell like ramen.”

It made you laugh, but you let him drift off in your arms inhaling the faint ramen seasoning scent of your skin. There was a faint song in your head unlike any you had heard. It didn’t really have a melody, just an odd lyric. ‘She makes me laugh and smile for no reason, she holds me close smelling of ramen season’ It was cute how snuggly he got, almost making you forget everything, but there was still a part of you that wondered what the others were up to.

These thoughts don’t last long as you start to drift off with Yoongi lying against you, your last thought is trying to heal his soul. Being close to your soulmate does wonders for your health but you doubted it could reverse the damage inflicted on his shoulder.

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austarus · 4 years

Text

HR Wells x Reader Scars Across Time

**A/N: The picture/edit/gif does not belong to me. It belongs to @acewest360

Word Count: 6245

*Hey everyone! Please remember to hit that reblog button as well as liking and following! Sharing the content makes the world spin~ This is probably going to be the last fic I post until winter break. Things have not been going too well for me, I rarely have time to sit down for myself and write or play pokemon at all. But I promise I’ll be back with more fics and series parts with the winter season

“I can’t feel my fingers.”

“And this is why we keep our gloves on,” you emphasized, taking your gloves off and handing it to him to wear as the two of you walked to your apartment, “especially during a snowball fight.”

“But you’ve got to admit, I nailed BA pretty hard.”

“You did,” you giggled and pecked his rosy-cold cheek. “And I’m proud that you did. Knock some sense into him and Harry while you’re at it.” You mumbled the latter part to yourself. The other Wells doppelganger was still having trouble with his daughter, who’s back on Earth-2. She had ‘kicked him off his own Earth’.

“It’s too bad Jesse wasn’t here; I think she would have liked it.”

“She’s still upset with Harry, HR.”

HR did a half shrug, side-glancing at you as he took your hand in his, “She missed all the failed igloos and speedy snow angels, the laughs and arguments we all ended up having on who cheated or not.”

“She’s busy on her Earth being the Flash, though. That must be taking priority over everything else.”

“I know,” he sighed, taking your hand into his. You felt how frigid they were through the knitted gloves you had given him. His eyes met yours are the two of you walked, the chilly air piercing the layers you have on. The novelist hoped that his doppelgangers daughter has been taking care of herself as she takes care of her city. “Harry shouldn’t have avoided her and the issue between them though, that’ll only create a greater rift between them. I know he’s not good with emotions, but… Something doesn’t feel right, like… it just doesn’t add up.”

You only offered the novelist a half-shrug, not really knowing what to say. “I think they’ll end up talking it out, whatever it is that happened between them. They’ll eventually get through it together.” You unlocked the door to your apartment and pushed it open. The door creaked nastily from its hinges; you’ve been meaning to fix that. “Now, let’s first get you inside and thawed out, I’m pretty sure I have some cold sludge stuck down the back of my shirt.”

The two of you entered your cozy apartment, kicking off any spare snow remnant that had clung onto your boots and clothes. Both you and HR left your boots by the door. A shiver ran down your spine, the ice-water mix shifted in your shirt as you moved uncomfortably through your home. You attempted to not track any water on the hardwood floors, eagerly locating some dry towels while HR brought a laundry basket from one of the rooms. The taller man returned with one as you handed him a fluffy towel. You and HR stripped off the winter-y layers of clothes, placing them into the basket. Your long-sleeve shirt clung to your skin, the cool damp cloth making you a bit antsy to get out of it. The Earth-19 being took the basket to throw in the washer, adding in the appropriate amount of detergent and softener. He whistled throughout completing his task, towel around his neck. HR started drying his hair off as he walked back to the living room.

You turned on the weather channel, overhearing Iris mention something about a serious storm going to hit. Flipping through the channels, you finally landed on the Central City News station and just in time for the weather spokesperson to come on screen. The woman fully articulated the severity the storm could cause as well as how many inches of snow to expect with an estimated time. HR’s ears had perked up, eyeing you from behind the couch as you watched the news. You ran a hand through your damp-ish hair before deciding to set it in a towel turban. Well, it’s a good thing I went grocery shopping yesterday. I should still have the portable heater that Cisco made just in case. The candles and matches should be in a spare drawer somewhere.

You glanced over your shoulder to see HR with chaotically messy hair and the collar of his shirt soaked. You nibbled on your bottom lip while setting down the TV remote. “Hey, um… HR do you want to stay over the night? There’s a winter storm coming and stuff,” You sheepishly wrung your fingers for wanting to ask him to stay the night when you knew he probably had an upcoming deadline to meet. Am I being selfish? I’m mean… we’ve been together for almost a little bit over a year now. Gah, fuck, I’m overthinking again. Stupid past relationship trauma and emotional distress. You just didn’t want to inconvenience him.

You will never deny how safe you felt around him, how you didn’t need to be careful of how to act. You can be you. And HR can be the dorkily cute novelist that he is with no filter in regard to his ideas and thoughts and expressions. The two of you complimented each other, two wounded souls just fixing and adoring each other. It took a couple of weeks for you to open up about your past relationships to the novelist, which he listened with understanding and concern taking hold in his eyes. He had done the same thing you had done. HR had proposed to ask three questions and you would need to answer fully and honestly with the reward in return. A reward of something you had long forgotten because having HR understand your past like you had done with him caused your heart to swell to a grand scale.

HR’s gaze softened at you, a gentle smile gracing his lips. “I don’t mind staying the night.” It’s so much better than sharing space with one grumpy scientist back at the labs who’ll probably hurl objects at me if I do anything out of line in his eyes. He saw that bit of insecurity eating at you, and he would do all he can to brush it away. Your insecurities had lessened over time, but every now and then it pops back up. But it’s understandable, you were trying your best to be a good and considerate girlfriend.

HR’s heart melted when you perked up, a bright smile crossing your face as if your sullen thoughts had washed away in an instant. “That means we can even make s’mores tonight!”

“How-“

“-I bought this handy dandy electric s’mores maker-”

“-Birdy, we’ve talked about this. You can’t buy every single thing from Amazon.”

“But… but the s’mores.”

“Do I need to take your debit card from you?” HR joked at the pout you had given him, the both of you knowing he would actually do no such thing. But he worried of these little impulse buys you get yourself into. Especially when prompted by Cisco, Iris, and Caitlin.

“I will fucking fight you.”

“No, you won’t.”

“You’re right, I love you too much.”

“Was it really necessary though?”

“… Yes, the state of my survival depends on it.”

“Liar,” HR sighed to himself. “I’m guessing Cisco and Iris happened to be browsing through Amazon again when they got bored? And you happened to be with them? Browsing from page to page, especially the bargains section.”

“… Maybe~”

“…”

“Don’t worry, I made sure I paid my rent and taken care of the apartment before deciding to buy the s’mores maker.”

“Good.”

“Plus, I really bought it for you.” HR felt the tips of his ears warm a bit. “You said it was one of the things you used to make with your mom, but now you just don’t have the time to camp or be by a fire to make them. So… I got this for when you’d come over and stuff…”

“How did I ever get so lucky to have someone as precious as you in my life, my little birdy?”

Your giggle allowed his heart to jump through hoops. Hail started pounding on the windows of your apartment catching both your attentions. “We should probably go wash up. I think I still have some clothes you left when you slept over a few times.” An idea lit up brilliantly in your mind, your brain already gathering the necessary materials.

A smile graced HR’s face, feeling his heart flutter as you shuffled to gather his clothes. I would do anything for you. The taller man looked out the window, observing the outside world ravaging in the heaviness of white fluff. The power might go out soon. If we’re lucky, then it doesn’t. But mother nature doesn’t seem to be letting up anytime soon. “Which drawer are they in?” He questioned, padding off to your bedroom but throwing a glance at you.

“I think they might be in the top left drawer,” you lied to him, needing to buy some time. “I’m not really sure. But if not, you’ll have to look around for them in my closet or something.”

You hurried to the bathroom once he was out of sight, stepping closer to the closet. Twisting the handle, you were greeted with towels on one shelf and scented candles on another. Now, what to choose. You opted for the scents of Balsam-Cedar and Autumn Leaves from Yankee Candle. Scattering the small candle containers around the tub, you made sure they were positioned in a place to avoid any fires. This is going to look simply divine. You mused a cheery hum from your lips as you worked fast. The electric lighter was in a drawer along with the bath bombs for relaxation. You contemplated whether the tiny flower petals were a bit overkill, then figured that it would be. I’m extra as fuck anyway, so why the hell not. You pulled out the mason jar filled with pastel pink-blue hydrangea and hibiscus petals. With everything set up, you just had to fill up the tub with water and work your magic. Shutting off the bathroom lights, you shuffled over to your room right as HR let out an ‘aha!’ when he found his checkered cotton pajama bottoms.

“Come take a bath with me,” you started, taking his hand and squeezing it meaningfully with jubilant warmth within your eyes. “We can warm up faster in less time before the storm cuts out the power.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to…” He trailed off; his other arm held his clothes to his chest. You knew what he meant and nodded assumingly. An ex many years ago had tried to drown you once, but… Your ex isn’t HR. The man in front of you is considerate, kind, dorky, and quirky. The man in front of you is more wholesome and beautiful inside and out than any other man you had been with. You knew the novelist would never dream of hurting you. We’ve proven that much to each other in the past year, we wouldn’t hurt each other no matter what.

“I trust you, HR.” You leaned up and kissed his nose gingerly, “You know I feel safer around you.”

“And I, you,” the taller man allowed you to tug him to the bathroom once you had pulled out your own pajamas and undergarments.

“Before we go inside, I’m going to need to you wait out here for a few moments.”

“Interesting. What are you planning, little birdy?”

“Who? Lil ol’ me? Nothing really!” You responded with a cheeky grin before entering the bathroom. HR just kept that boyish smirk on his face then sneezed. God, he loves you, but he needed to get out of these clothes soon. Another sneeze left him when the sound of water graced the silence in the apartment. The hail had stopped, but heavier clumps of packing snow fell onto the city.

“Done~” you mused with childish delight, opening the bathroom door and ushering him inside. HR held his breath as the scents of the forest greeted him. The candles were beautifully lit around the tub, flickering and wavering as it cradled the bathroom with a dim glow. The bathroom lights were off to allow the candles to work their magic in the darkness. Neither of you would deny the warmth the candles brought as the flames danced happily in their respective glass communities. Scents of cedar oak, maple trees, and autumn leaves flourished in the air, but it wasn’t overbearing. The running water moved gently as you had begun to strip down and out of your clothes. Your movements shook HR out of his trance, tugging his own clothes off, but stopped short of shrugging his pants off when he saw all of you. Your eyes caught his intense gaze. A tight knot formed in the pit of your stomach.

“HR?”

“You’re…” He couldn’t find the right words. Any word couldn’t justify the beauty in front of him. “You’re elegantly divine.” Is what he settled for as he felt hot oil splash onto his cheeks.

“It’s not something you haven’t seen before.”

“It’s something that I hope I don’t have the misfortune to never see.”

You screamed on the inside as your mind started spinning at his desire. A smug grin grew on his face as you looked away, stumbling over to a jar on the sink counter. HR fully stripped, coming up behind you with his arms encasing you and strong hands resting on your hips as he watched. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. You leaned back into him, dropping a good two handfuls of flower petals into the water. His body, while chilled from your earlier winter-y activities still provided your own with a spectacle of warmth. Goosebumps gradually ran over every in of your skin. The taller man watched you with tired eyes.

“You know you’re going to have to let me go so we can wash up, right?”

HR pouted, to which you leaned up on your tippy toes to try to kiss his pout away. “Fine, but I think we both deserve some time to cuddle.”

“I was going to trap you in bed, regardless.”

A quiet laugh left his lips. Breaking away from his sturdy limbs and wonderfully sculpted body, you rifled through a drawer for a bath bomb. Milk and Honey~ Unwrapping it and disposing of its bindings into the trash, you set it down into the water as it instantly fizzed.

“Wait, you like bath bombs?” HR questioned with an arched eyebrow.

“Yeah, but only the organically made ones- that way it doesn’t irritate my skin.” You shut off the hot water and pulled out the necessary towels for the both of you. “Also, they smell phenomenal!”

“They do.”

“What’s wrong?”

“One year on this Earth and I hadn’t even noticed that you had bath bombs too. Do yours also release an underwater firecracker?”

“An underwater firecracker??”

“Yeah, little ocean sparks underwater that also stimulate the water to move like the waves as if pulled from the effects of the moon.”

You just stared down at the slowly fizzing bath bomb in disappoint. “Why don’t you do that? Rude.” The novelist craned his head down to kiss your cheek with a snicker at your evident disappointment.

You stuck one foot in, the warmth enticing you as a hum left your lips before going all in. A wave of relief washed over your muscles as a tired groan left your lips while shutting your eyes. Leaning back, your skin touched the cool marble of the tub as the water drifted in multiple directions. The water rose to just above the top of your cleavage. HR had followed suit once you fully entered, sitting across from you with his legs crossed. A sigh had left him as he felt the tension in his body break away, the scents also helping him ease into relaxation. After a moment he pulled you in between his legs and you humored him because his were so long that they needed the space. Your eyes finally adjusted to the brightness set by the candles from your position.

You eyed the scar on his chest, teeth raking over your bottom lip. The one where Savitar had left his mark. Those thoughts came back. Your throat dried instantly. Swallowing thickly, your mouth moved on its own accord. “I almost lost you.” HR froze as he leaned his broad back against the tub, an arm on the rim of the cool marble. You reached out a hand to trace over the scarred skin. The closer you had gotten- the more you looked at his upper body- was the more you mentally berated yourself under the soft glow of the candlelight. Scared paths and crossroads of tinged undertones on his skin, some faint- others dark and deep. A few were clean and a few others were messy. Even the scar, perfectly hidden by his left eyebrow seemed to be clearer to your eyes now. Your heart sank in your chest, frustration and anger and hurt welling up inside you at the pain HR must have endured over the years. But mostly, anger and hatred towards yourself. How have I been so blind? How many times have my eyes overlooked these? How pathetic and ignorant have I become? HR shivered under your touch, under your gaze over the ugly reminders on his body. “We’ve been together for a year,” you started, “a little bit over a year- and I’m a damned fool for never truly seeing how hurt you’ve been.”

“I…” The words died in HR’s mouth. The sullen look in your glassy eyes, the pained expression on your face. His heart felt heavy, yet it oddly thrummed loudly in his chest. The warmth of the water didn’t help how you were feeling.

“And for that, I’m sorry.”

“Just being by my side and seeing who I am- how I’m worth something, exceeds any grim reminder of my past.”

“But, I didn’t-”

HR took your hand and intertwined your fingers together, “You’re the light of my life, you allowed me to forget my past and accepted me, all of me. I don’t hold it against you that you didn’t notice, we’ve been going through one hoop after another with these crazed villains. Hell, I forget the scars are even there when you’re with me… I feel whole when you’re with me.” The novelist strained emphasis on the last sentence. You felt the tears start to riot in your eyes before streaming down your face. HR gently cupped your face, wiping the tears away with a dry hand. “I’m happy that you overlooked them. I’m happy that I could shed them when I’m around you.”

You were silent for a few seconds. “I’m still mad at Iris,” you whispered with a sharp sniffle, your fingers finding the scar over his heart once more. “No, I’m pissed that she didn’t the willpower and guts to speak up when she had a chance. We… we could have prevented… both of you could have-”

“-We could have gone through a million different avenues, but the results would have led to the same road.”

“Wouldn’t it? You, at least, couldn’t have been hurt if we had done something differently.”

“Iris could have been hurt.”

“You were hurt!” You snapped as your voice wavered. “You were going to die, had it not been for Julian and Cisco and Barry. I… I can’t lose you. Every night, a dark thought slips into my mind. You could have died- You could have died right there when you were just starting to live a life of your own. All because of Barry and Iris.” Your cheeks felt wet and only then did you realize that the tears had pooled up and escaped. His gaze softened at you, nonetheless, the tears didn’t take away from any frustration that you had presented.

HR recognized the bitterness in your voice. The fiery anger within your eyes as you looked up at him with desperation. The same anger that he had long disciplined himself to distance from. Anger blinds all gates of logic within the mind. Because in a way, you were right. Iris could have easily said something when she was disguised as his persona. Instead the queen of the castle seemed reluctant in sacrificing herself, instead allowing the pawn to take the fall. HR had thrown it all away to save someone who didn’t really care to know him and treated him with disdain at first. All to prove to the others that he was worth being on their side. To prove to Savitar that he wasn’t a coward like the projected future had revealed. But most importantly, to prove to himself that he’s capable of more than just standing on the sidelines as backup. The anger and distraught and hate. HR worked tirelessly to move past them. You were his future now. You and the fact that in the end he seemed to earn his spot. Sadly, even at the expense of his own life. At the end of the day those were the cold, hard facts. Ones he willingly chooses to not give in to.

“But I’m here.” HR wrapped his long arms around you, pulling you closer to him. You choked back on a sob. Your anger waned at his gentle touch. “I’m here and I’m alive,” he let out roughly, letting you cry it all out as he rubbed your back soothingly. HR knew everything you had said had been true. And even if it did work out in the end, he didn’t want to imagine a reversal of the situation. If it had been you who had traded places with Iris instead of him. The novelist can only hope that the team wouldn’t have to put anyone else in a situation like that. That Barry and Iris wouldn’t have to play close to this dangerous game of chess again. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you sniffled, calming down with a stutter. You knew that anger blinds judgment. You didn’t hate Iris, but you resented her inability to save both her live and HR’s. HR wet his hands and cleared your face from any remnant of tears. kissing your eyelids sweetly.

“Interesting that you put hydrangeas and hibiscus petals.”

“How so? And how did you know?” you raised a questioning eyebrow at HR.

“The jar’s labeled.” You facepalmed at yourself. Of course, the jar’s fucking labeled, I’m such a dumbass. “But also, I studied the language of the flowers as well as the language of the colors for my writing.”

“So, what do hibiscus plants stand for?”

“From what I recall,” HR scratched the back of his neck in recollection, “they stand for love and affection between family members, friends, and others. A perfect statement of gentle feelings towards the others. It can even symbolize passionate relationships.” You had placed both hands on his shoulders as he spoke, mesmerized by his knowledge of the flower. He wiggled his eyebrows at his later statement, causing you to giggle with flushed cheeks.

“What about the hydrangeas?”

“Ironically, heartfelt emotions,” he kissed your cheek, rubbing the skin of your lower back as he continued. “Gratitude for being understood.”

“I would call it more of a fateful coincidence,” you mumbled, pressing your lips to his for a chaste kiss. But truthfully, he just wanted to roll around in bed with you and kiss you silly to his heart’s content… amongst other certainly heart-fluttering bedroom activities. When you pulled away, your eyes drifted over his figure. “Can- Can I ask you about them?”

Them. HR knew what you were referring too. That curiosity of yours is one day going to land you in trouble, birdy. HR mused to himself with a little noise of thought. He was well past the mental pain, taking up meditation and various things to acknowledge and push past it. But the idea of you feeling the need to know didn’t rub him the wrong way like it should have. Rather, it stirred something deep in his heart, a playful glint hidden in his eyes. “Depends on what’s in it for me, little birdy?”

You thought deeply for a minute and HR remained silent, running patterns over the skin of your arm. You felt warmth build up on your skin with every contact. “One night.”

“One night…?”

“One night, you can do anything to me- within reasonable bounds. You decide when the night can be.”

The Wells doppelganger immediately licked his lips and felt his blood rush at the notion. “Is that your final condition?” Because if it is, this big bad wolf’s going to make sure to devour his little red riding hood all night long. HR tilted your head back, a hooked finger under your chin as his lips skimmed over yours. There’s much planning that needs to be done.

“Y-yeah.”

“‘Yeah’ isn’t a word of confirmation.” Learned that one from a law buddy back on Earth-19.

“Yes,” you won’t deny the anticipation in your voice. The murky white waters retaliated with every movement from the two of you. “One question, one scar.”

“One question, one scar, one night.” The novelist smirked down at you, a cocky look on his face.

“Fair enough.” I essentially ordered one love romp of a night… I’m so fucked, literally and figuratively. I just hope I don’t have to come into the Labs the next day, neither of us.

HR watched you closely, grabbing the body wash as you decided with a focused look on what scar to choose. Your eyes roamed his body. You already knew of his mental scars, and he knew of yours. The novelist waited patiently as you quietly processed the image of them on his skin. Some scars on his body were from hitmen, bullies, or muggers- mainly during his young adult life or when he was creating STAR Labs with Randolph. That bastard probably sent some after me, wouldn’t be surprised since he knew I would be executed if I crossed dimensions. Bath sponge in hand, he lathered your body wash on the sponge with every intention that he would help wash you while he reiterated a scarred tale.

“What’s the story behind the one on your eyebrow?”

That one took HR by surprise; usually human nature would be intrigued with the most noticeable of things- big things. Instead, you pinpointed the one that was easily concealable in plain sight. Settling for the smaller scar in comparison to the others. The novelist took your arm, scrubbing your skin with lips pressed thinly. You opened your lips to ask if he’d rather you choose a different one, but HR cut you off in a matter of milliseconds.

“I got it back during my university years. I was an English Arts major,” he paused for a moment, switching to your other arm to give it the same treatment. “My father obviously didn’t approve, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to keep going with my literary studies, taking up photography in my spare time. One day, I was just walking through the city in the late evening. Dismal and dark, with fog everywhere.” HR rinsed off your arms, gesturing for you to turn around between his legs so he can start on your back. He plucked off the PanOxyl Foaming Wash bottle from beside a candle, using a different sponge specifically for the backwash. You had told him that sometimes you unfortunately get acne on your back and shoulders, so you use this backwash to keep it clean and acne-free. To your surprise he wasn’t revolted in any way, instead he admired your constant diligence with wanting to keep good hygiene, especially since so many factors can trigger different responses from the human body. You silently waited, listening intently as he continued. “I heard whimpers. Cries coming from down the alley. There was this… this small puppy- I-I can’t really recall what breed it was, but it looked hunger and tired and scared.” You looked back at him, heart aching as you saw his eyes show the pain in his heart too. “I thought to myself. How could someone leave a helpless baby animal to starve in the city’s alleyways? Why couldn’t someone have the heart to nurture it?”

“What did you do?”

HR ran the water over your back to remove any bubbles or foaming wash from your skin. “I saw myself in the puppy. Lost. Abandoned. Alone.” he whispered as he raised his chin, eyes finally meeting yours as you fully turned to observe him. Your gaze softened; your wet hand reached out to cup his jaw. Droplets of water fell from your skin into the colored water as he nuzzled into your touch. “I approached it, I wanted to keep it safe and warm. It didn’t object when I picked it up, cradling it like it the baby that it is. It trembled and shivered in my arms.” His heart dipped remembering the way the puppy felt in his arms. One of his larger hands held onto yours, the one cupping his chiseled jaw. “I had to do something, couldn’t just leave it there.” I couldn’t abandon it.

“There’s a ‘but’, isn’t there?”

“There always is…” He let out a mirthless laugh. “Things went south when a couple of drunk guys found me and the puppy. Turns out these were the same guys that had been harassing the little one through the alleys. They had been trying to use the puppy in illegal cage fights.” HR bowed his head slightly. “One thing led to the other, there was a knife and I was running like hell with the puppy. Until they cornered me, hence…” He trailed off, gesturing to his eyebrow scar with a free hand.

“HR,” you whispered, but he squeezed your hand as he took it off his face. Your other hand tightened into a fist in the water. HR’s eyes caught the movement but didn’t say anything.

“They roughed me up pretty good- I’m wasn’t- I’m not a fighter, but I would have been damned if that little puppy had been hurt. I ended up finding the little guy a home where he can be looked after and well-fed and safe.” You unclenched your fist, gently listing it to stroke his stubbly cheek as he concluded. HR ran his fingers down the length of your arm.

“You’re safe.”

“I know. You’re safe too, my little birdy.”

“I know.”

You twisted your body, stretching an arm out as you reached for his Old Spice body wash. It was your turn to help wash him. You started working away at his sturdy chest, obviously doing your best to not ogle at his abs and his entirely toned framework. But he caught your eyes drifting off more than once.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For always listening to me.”

“I love you, HR. And I would do anything in the multiverse to keep you safe and loved. You’re my one one one after all.” You winked at him, eliciting a deep chuckle from his lips. Music to your eyes, smiling as the corners of his lips lifted upwards. “There’s that radiant smile I love so much.” The man blushed but continued to grin.

HR ran a hand through his hair before catching a glimpse of his hair in the mirror. He squinted a bit as he held a lock between two fingers. “Looks to be about that time of year again.” Your fingers threaded through his hair once he released the strand.

“I’m assuming a haircut is needed.”

“Yup”

“I will never understand how men ask for their hair to be done.”

“It’s honestly really easy, with the provided visuals of course. I should take you with me once.”

“I’d be okay with that.”

“Probably going to need to dye my hair black again.”

“I think I have some leftover dye in a cabinet somewhere. You know… I wouldn’t mind seeing silver streaks on you. Makes you look like a sly silver fox to me.”

“… I’ll keep that in mind for next time as long as you allow me to learn how to do those intricate braids in your hair.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Wells.” You leaned up to kiss his lips.” The novelist smirked against your lips as he ran a hand over your bum. Neither of you had noticed that the water was starting to become lukewarm, the candles and warmth of each other distracted the two of you. “It’s a done deal.”

Taking his Old Spice Shampoo in hand, you squeezed a good amount out meanwhile he tilted his head down closer for you to reach. HR’s hands settled on your hips, steadying you on his lap to have your legs wrap around his waist. You scrubbed and massaged his scalp, creating a bubbly hairdo for him. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips. But once your bright eyes met his baby blue ones, you felt your heart skip in your chest.

HR felt your hands slow as you retracted them but made no effort in submerging them in the water to get rid of the bubbles. Instead your smaller hands rested on his broad shoulders with the tips of your fingers doing a sort of feather-light dance against his skin. The novelist found himself mesmerized by your radiance, never mind the candlelight that continued to flicker around the both of you. You felt hypnotized by his baby blue eyes, pulling you into an ocean of wonder. HR licked his lips with half-lidded eyes as you moved to kiss him deeply, your lips slowly moved against his with a sensual kind of dance to it. The doppelganger breathed you in slowly and he pressed forward. His palm rested on your cheek while his other hand took one of yours to hold onto. The kiss broke but was soon reconnected. Over and over again. The moment wasn’t rushed. There was no hurry to get to the finish line. It was just you and him and the wisps of fire around the two of you. HR nibbled on your lower lip before you reluctantly pulled away. Your tongue ran over your swollen bottom lip.

“We should probably finish up before the power decides to run out,” you started in a low-ish voice. HR noted the slight jitter in it and his heart swelled at the effect of his kisses on you.

“I don’t think it might get to that point. We’d probably end up snowed in, but there’s a chance that the power might not go out.”

“It’s better to be safe than sorry.”

“I know. If we must, then by all means,” The novelist murmured, nuzzling his nose with yours before the two of you finished washing up.

HR stepped out first from the foamy waters of the tub, stretching a fine limb over for some dry towels. He handed one to you when you had stepped out after him unfortunately a little less graceful as you almost slipped on the tiled floor. HR’s hand reached out to steady you. Giving him a sheepish smile, you whispered a thank you to which he returned with a wink. He knew you could be clumsy at times, but nevertheless he’s grown to love that about you. HR had come to realize that him being able to catch you from tripping over your feet or stopping you from running into things would give him a sense of ‘being your hero’ or ‘saving you’. It was just a small thing that made him happy. A ‘your hero in-the-moment’ kind of thing.

You wrapped the towel around you to rid your body of the water and bubbles. The two of you had cleaned each other well which made you sigh in contentment because feeling clean and being clean made you feel satisfied and relieved after a long day. You couldn’t help the stare you had fallen into as your eyes roamed over your boyfriends’ body as he dried himself off. Subconsciously, you licked your lips at every dip of skin, every inch of muscle. Wrapping another towel around your hair, your eyes never left HR until he turned towards you. You blinked for a split second and hastily busied yourself with pulling your undergarments from your clothes pile. HR walked back past you with his pajama’s on. The novelist had every intention in extinguishing the candles that were left only to land a soft smack on your ass. You let out a little yelp in surprise at the impact.

“See something you like?” He teased as he blew the fire out. He knew. There was a large mirror in the bathroom after all. A smirk finally settled on his face, one that he had been repressing until he smacked your ass. The heat had stayed on your cheeks from the bath and getting caught.

“Maaaaaaaaybeeeeeeee.” To be honest, it was a nice ass.

HR chuckled, “Well, since you’re done why don’t you get that cute ass of yours in bed while I go and get the smores maker?”

“How can I ever refuse such a generous offer?” You hummed, leaning up to kiss him. The Wells doppelganger nipped at your lips in return then broke away from you. He stepped towards the door. “HR?”

“Hm?” He turned back to you with curious eyes. There was a soft glow that had settled within your eyes. The sight made his body tingle.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#harrison wells x reader #harrison wells imagine #harrison wells #harrison wells fanfiction #hr wells x reader #hr x reader #hr wells #hr wells imagine #the flash #the flash imagine #the flash x reader #the flash cw #DC comics #dc #DCTV #dctv fanfic #team flash #team flash x reader #team flash imagine

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oneweekoneband · 4 years

Text

her Nebraska (1982)

In July I flew to Massachusetts with a plague on, and I felt that it was wrong, but my mother had begged and I’d been out of work for months. Mornings there I ran in long, uneven ovals on the same roads I’d memorized in high school. There’s no sidewalks, but the few feet of dirt between the craggy pavement and the open mouths of the fields serve all right for a single body in motion. When a truck comes up close from behind, the ground shakes, and I step away bouncingly from the street toward thigh-high yellow weeds and grass, and keep going. I was slowly picking my way back in that dirt, sweat-slick from only a plodding couple of miles in peak summer heat, and sucking the wet cotton of my mask in between my teeth on every inhale, when Taylor Swift announced she was releasing a surprise album produced by the guy from The National. Not the guy from The National, like, the voice, but the guy from The National whose photo was circulated on Twitter earlier this year as some kind of antifa super soldier, which isn’t the case, but would’ve been rad. First, I stopped dead to send some outraged, misspelled text messages, and then I ran home faster than I’d moved in years.

Tall, blonde, patrician pop star Taylor Swift is to me something like a cross-between a wife and a boogeyman. Bound we’ve been since we were really children. Time and its changes haven’t rid me of her, and what’s worse is I have never quite been able to wish they would, though I claim as much all the time. Countless hours of my one wild and precious life have been spent on endlessly analyzing the minutiae of Taylor Swift’s music, the mind that made it, the real world events which influenced it. And though all the while I have known she is only a person, and that people, while each strange and lovely in their own ways, are, in the end, mostly dull, needful in just the regular manner, the fantasy is better, the sick dream of a megalomaniac songstress, curious, thrilling, probably evil, and I choose that. I don’t know Taylor Alison Swift, born to this world in, I presume, the usual way. But my Taylor Swift? I’m a renowned expert. I’ve always eaten up stories—movies, music, celebrity news, the one my grandfather tells about falling off his bike once in Ireland as a boy and his face “cracking open like an egg”—like a starved dog. I’m obsessive about my interests, but not inclined to intense fandom, and certainly not fandom in the mode of the stan. For one, I’m too self-absorbed. But caring intensely for a famous person is falling in love with a ghost, and that’s all right—I mean, what the hell? We’re here together just dying... Let’s enjoy—but is an affair best undertaken with the knowledge that everyone alive has their own complex interiority, as unruly as your own, and that you, a stranger, are not in any real way connected to the lawless, blurry middle of that celebrity, and will never be. It’s freeing and fun to know this. I mean, these people are basically in your employ. Glamorous dollhouse dwellers. Acknowledging that uncrossable distance allows for a different, healthier closeness of pure imagination. My feelings, then, can comfortably be at once both fiercely intense and entirely silly. I am a foremost scholar in the art of the Taylor Swift who exists in my head. The real person raised in Pennsylvania I don’t know at all. I have some conjectures on the matter, and, as with all my conjectures, every hackneyed theory, each picky little opinion, I’m sure they’re perfect, brilliant, just absolutely right, but that’s still all they are. Taylor Swift, figure of the cultural imagination, is the Jodie Comer to my Sandra Oh in Killing Eve, annoying and pretty in frills, taunting me endlessly and holding us trapped together in a dance of most enchanting death. But the real Taylor Swift has favorite bed sheets and a social security number and a British boyfriend, none of which I have any desire to know about, and if I saw her at a restaurant I’d politely avert my eyes before, yes, dive-bombing the group text. There’s nobody on Earth I’d stand in line to speak to, but then I’ve been speaking to a certain figment of Taylor Swift for nearly half my life.

I went to a Taylor Swift concert the night before I moved into college in 2009. My father’s work friend, firefighter by day, near professional gambler by night, got comped tickets to the Fearless Tour stop taking place at the nearby casino, and he let me have them as a reward, mainly, for happening to be seventeen. Live in-person and performed acoustically, “Fifteen” made me cry. A few years after that, in the thick, sticky part of my first post-college summer, I wrote approximately twenty-three million words about her in these very pages. (”Pages”) At that point, Taylor’s most recent release was 2012’s Red, and the work I produced that long ago July about Taylor and her career, writing I was fairly pleased with at the time, feels now, besides just being extremely clearly written by a twenty-one year old, strange to me for the way it favors the sweet over the sour almost uniformly. There is a wholesome kind of ardor in that writing which maybe I’ve outgrown the ability to hold. Or maybe Taylor just proceeded to spend the next half a decade plus releasing one bad single after another, and it was taste—and trespasses against taste—and not some shift in my nature which altered the tenor of our bond. I have real love for my particular image, gleaned from public statements and published art, of smart, bizarre famous woman Taylor Swift, and I admire the bulk of her output very much. I’m just no longer so inclined to fawn. This is not to say I am here to offer a Taylor Swift hate screed. I couldn’t swing it, and, anyway, I’m not a pop feminist-for-hire circa 2010. But we’re older now. Things are different. At twenty-eight, twenty-nine this month—Taylor will, also this December, turn thirty-one—I regard Taylor Swift warily, like an ex with whom you have a tentative friendship, perpetually on the brink of falling one way or the other into hatred or delight, only to wobble back the opposite direction again at the slightest provocation, but still, despite best efforts, even, I regard her all the time.

folklore was released at midnight on July 24th 2020, but I was at a cabin in rural Vermont without Internet or cell service. I drank Bud Light seltzers with my mother while watching the eerie pandemic return of Major League Baseball, and when I got into a strange bed there I stewed, knowing there were people out in the world all over who were hearing Taylor Swift songs I never had, and that this was a fundamental wrong, a disruption in the balance of the universe. I listened to it the next morning in a Dunkin’ Donuts parking lot.

And folklore is great. That’s the terrible thing. Slightly less great, maybe, than some people have insisted, tricked, I think, by just the pronounced shift in sound. But it’s great. A little gift I asked for a thousand times and was still surprised to get, like a wife who didn’t expect her henpecked husband to ever follow through and buy the paraffin wax hand bath as-see-on-TV. For years, I’ve been halfheartedly insisting that Taylor had a great album in her. I’d say it even, perhaps especially, while she stubbornly fed me gruel. Or worse, gruel with the occasional whiff of something better. With a ripe, little raspberry dropped into the slop. The bright, villainous thrill of “Getaway Car” made me believe Taylor, my Taylor, was in there somewhere under the lacquer of sequins and synth, which, while not objectionable by default, seemed a costume, and an ill-fitting one. The lived-in world of “Cornelia Street” made those old scars sting. That gay “Delicate” video. When she did “Call It What You Want” on SNL and played guitar while wearing an ugly sweater. If the abominable “ME!”, lead single off Lover, was the stick, 1989’s “Clean” was the carrot. I was Charlie Brown, and Taylor my Lucy, yanking the football back again and again. Over drinks I still yelled that Taylor Swift’s next album would be, “her Nebraska”, referring to my favorite Bruce Springsteen record, and learned to live with that egg on my face for good. I suppose I even came to like it. There was something inherently funny in taking up, like, “blind faith in the as of yet untapped greater artistic potential of massively wealthy and popular singer Taylor Swift” as my totally inane personal cause du jour, and eventually it was a bit, a gag I performed to be obstinate and didactic, but way down somewhere awful near my kidneys I meant it the whole while. And then she did it. A pandemic befell the world and amid a sea of human suffering Taylor Swift remembered she can write. She wrote, and with a massive, crucial assist from Aaron Dessner, whose music on this record is sometimes so beautiful it actually angers me, as the last thing I needed in already perilous times was to be made to try and marry my uniquely perverse emotional responses to beloved divorced dad band The National and fucking Taylor Swift, she made an album which, if not her Nebraska, per se (I’ve come to realize that a major part of believing Taylor Swift will one day make an album I find as quietly devastating and gorgeous as Nebraska is knowing that no album will ever actually be Her Nebraska... That each will, rather, to me, be more and more evidence that it’s coming still, more proof that the limit is untouched, on and on ad infinitum, or at least until the seas take us into a place of salty peace.) is a shocking credit to all my hard-fought and deluded confidence. folklore is great. This fact has made me feel almost equally as disoriented from my understanding of the world as the time-melting COVID-19 lockdowns have, and it turned my Spotify year in review annual collective AI humiliation kink thing into a glaring indictment of my mental state, but still, I mean... It’s great.

In talking about folklore a bit this week, there are a number of specific topics I intend to cover—what a thrill it is to hear Taylor say “fuck”; Taylor’s terrifying birth chart; the astoundingly perfect bridge of “the last great american dynasty”; “because my ass is located at the back of my body”; the bit in last year’s “Lover” where deranged WASP Taylor Swift implies that to “leave the Christmas lights up til January” is some signifier of being a love-struck bohemian, when actually everyone who doesn’t employ domestic staff to take their lights down does this; how reputation is the best of the Taylor Swift records released in the latter half of the 2010s, actually, and the people who can’t see that are cowards—but intend mostly to let the muse move me where she will. Against the advice of my better angels, she—that tie-in marketing eldritch terror—always does.

#taylor swift #folklore

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cobrakiin · 4 years

Text

I Wouldn't Fall For Someone I Thought Couldn't Misbehave

Cojeel | Mentioned Lulev + Stingue | Rated: M (Nothing Super Explicit but ends with Very Spicy Fluff)

When Gajeel signed on for helping re-stabilize the Magic Council after the bombings, he didn't expect all the redundant paperwork, nosy coworkers, or the smokin' hot redhead that likes to play dangerous games with him.

And he should really learn to lock his front door... but why should he? He's practically rewarded for leaving it unlocked!

Aka the post-Rhodonite/Road Knight oneshot that my brain decided to inspire me to write by repeatedly chanting "COBRA SHOW HIS LEGGY" repeatedly until I finished writing it.

[AO3] [FFN]

________________________

"Everything okay?"

"Nn?"

"You've been quiet," Levy reiterated.

"'Course I am, I've got all these bullshit reports to do," Gajeel grumbled, motioning to the mess of papers on his desk. "If I'd known helping clean up after the Council was gonna involve so much goddamn paperwork, I would've told 'em I can't read and saved a hundred trees."

"That's very noble of you," Levy said, unconvincingly flat. She leaned her elbow on her desk, resting her chin in her hand. Her honey brown eyes narrowed, watching him suspiciously. "I meant that you haven't seemed to be your usual self recently. You've been way more distracted lately."

He snorted dismissively. "I ain't you. Sue me for findin' never-ending paperwork boring."

"Come to think of it," Levy ploughed on, "It started right after that mission to recapture that Oracion Seis member." She tapped her index finger against her chin, feigning thought. "And he got away…"

Gajeel sharply eyed her.

His position in the New Magic Council was… unique. Gajeel was only handed cases regular Rune Knights couldn't handle - he was a Dragonslayer whose magic made near-unbreakable iron objects and also happened to be an expert tracker, so he became the guy who could track and capture the more elusive, difficult targets.

An escaped, dark mage Dragonslayer? Right up his alley.

Officially… Gajeel had found Cobra, but the sudden issue of an active child trafficking ring took precedence and Cobra 'got away' in the mess of it all.

Unofficially… Gajeel had found Cobra and they'd exchanged blows at first. Testing each other until Cobra's real target had revealed itself. Then the two Dragonslayers tore those kidnappers to shreds. Once the kids were safe with Council forces, Gajeel had managed to track Cobra down again a few remote towns over. (Gajeel tracked him; Cobra didn't 'let' Gajeel find him again - nope! Finding him again was all Gajeel!) And that's where everything got a lot messier and a lot hotter… and a lot stickier...

Dragons were very much creatures that abided by the Universal Law of the Four F's - food, fight, flee, or fuck - sometimes there was a Fifth F in there, too… something about "Friend" or whatever.

Gajeel meeting Natsu? Fight on sight.

Meeting Laxus? Yeah, there was a Fight, but Gajeel was a little more honest with himself these days that he had actually wanted to Flee the Thunder God.

Wendy and Rogue? He guessed that's where "Friend" came in. Maybe also Food somewhere mixed up in there; they both really needed to eat more. That counted, right?

That blonde idiot mated to his brother? Well… if Sting weren't practically plastered to Rogue's side every waking minute of the day, Gajeel wouldn't mind a Fight with him. (Besides, the guy reminded him too much of Salamander.)

But meeting Cobra? That was the first time his inner dragon skipped past all the other F's - looked right at that cocky little shit-eating elf - and decided on Fuck. And it soon became apparent that Cobra's inner dragon had come to the same conclusion about Gajeel.

It was not at all what he had expected when he'd been handed that case file. He'd expected a Fight and not a Fuck. And while he got both - he was getting plenty of the second one. Even now.

He wasn't stupid: Cobra would do a lot more good out there slaughtering slavers than locked back up for, what? Crimes he committed as a teenager? (Following that mission, Gajeel had checked what was left of Cobra's file after the bombings. While he was sure the redhead had done much worse than what was in there, legally all they could hold him on now was "association with dark mages" and a couple of assassinations they "suspected" him of.) Killing traffickers the Council couldn't (or wouldn't) go after was basically community service, in Gajeel's opinion.

An added plus to all that "community service" was that Cobra sometimes showed up after Gajeel was done with a mission. Always approached him alone, always knew where they wouldn't be seen, always teasing so many somethings without saying anything directly. And sometimes whispered somethings led to somewheres - like the bed of a shitty inn for the night or a tent deep in the woods... or that alley behind that diner that one time.

"It's okay to give yourself some slack, you know," Levy's voice dragged him unwillingly out of his thoughts. "Sure, you didn't catch him. But you saved twelve kids and stopped more from being kidnapped. That's an accomplishment, too!"

Gajeel rolled his eyes. He 'hasn't been himself'... tch, yeah - 'cause he's been getting regularly fuckin' laid! He wanted to brag and practically had to bite his tongue to force himself not to.

"I don't really care that much about catching him," he half-lied. He did want to catch Cobra - to keep chasing and catching him, over and over - he just didn't want to arrest the poison dragon. "I ain't beating myself up over that. I've- Look. It's somethin' else, okay?"

The short bluenette blinked her surprise at him before her mouth widened into a smirk. "I just wanted to make sure you're okay," she said, pretending to go back to her own stack of reports. "I thought you might have been upset about the Cobra situation. But from that reaction, I'd almost guess you were seeing someone."

Gajeel forced a scowl in an attempt to squash the heat rising to his face. "So? Even if I was - and I'm not sayin' I am - it's not a fuckin' crime." Except that in his case, it most certainly was. He snorted indignantly. "I didn't bother you half this much when you an' cosplay girl went away on that gal-pal trip to that couples-only hotspring."

Levy's eyebrows immediately arched at that. "Gajeel, you sent me a text message that contained a book, a bunny, and a scissor emoji. Fourteen times." She shook her head. "Lucy saw it and almost passed out from embarrassment because she doesn't know what a kind, supportive asshole you are."

He spluttered. "Don't remember, didn't happen."

"If you ever start dating someone, just know I'm going to have my revenge. Tenfold."

TWUNNNG.

The sound of a lone, reverberating guitar string being plucked played as his lacriphone buzzed in his pocket. (With his tough skin, he couldn't always feel when his phone vibrated. When he had first started using it, he had the notification sound set to an annoyed cat's meow, but Pantherlily refused to go out on missions with him if he didn't have his phone set to silent. Reluctantly, he'd change it to a guitar twang to appease his friend.)

The lock screen showed he had two messages from a number he didn't recognize.

The first message was an image. Taken from a bathtub... his bathtub! In his house! A leg - warm chestnut skin dripping wet as soap streaked down the exposed, toned thigh - casually hung over the side of his bathtub, suds and the shimmer of the overhead light on the water obscuring anything more tantalizing lurking below.

Light, faint purpling could be seen on the inner flesh of the thigh, and Gajeel's mouth went half-dry at the memory of suckling and pinching the soft skin there between his fangs.

The second message flat-out taunted Gajeel: [You should really learn to lock your doors, Mr. Councilman... who knows what kind of criminal could break in?]

Gajeel could practically feel the blood rushing from his rapidly blanking mind to somewhere much, much lower. He managed to hold back the approving, dragonish purr that threatened to rumble from his very core.

"So you are seeing someone," Levy troublesomely commented over Gajeel's shoulder, causing Gajeel to jolt and nearly fumble his phone onto the floor. That sneaky little shrimp! When the fuck did she even get there?! "You know, you don't have to hide it, we're friends. Who is she?"

Right. The pic was only of a leg. (And it was a fuckin' nice leg, the guy had a great pair of them with a perfect, shapely ass to match.) All Levy had seen was a leg. Sent from a burner phone, not that she'd know that just from the quick peek. Nothing identifiable.

Taking a few calming breaths, Gajeel grit his fangs in a friendly yet dismissive frown. "It's a he, Shrimpy. Don't go makin' assumptions 'bout who I bed." Despite how they picked on each other, she was his friend, and he'd toss her that one bone. "And he would prefer if my work life didn't go poking into our personal life. As a matter of fact, so would I."

Levy feigned thought for a moment. But the teasing, troublesome glint in her eyes remained. "You mean to tell me that he doesn't want to be seen with a grown man that collects Hello Kitten merchandise and refuses to lock his own front door?"

________________________

It was impossible to ignore the other male's scent in his home, warmly dampened by a recent bath. Gajeel tossed his uniform coat on the hook by the door and kicked his boots off in a hurry. The scent carried into the kitchen, where it was obvious a certain home invader had definitely helped himself to the contents of Gajeel's fridge, and he followed it to the living room and to who he knew was waiting there for him.

Gajeel knew who he was dealing with by now: Cobra went where he pleased, when he pleased. Nothing could hold him in one place for long and, knowing how much Cobra valued his freedom, Gajeel didn't care to try. Besides... the redhead was just as enticing whether he was standing in front of him or walking away - neither was a bad view.

And it wasn't a bad view that waited for him at all.

Freshly bathed and stretching the length of the couch lounged a certain redheaded poison dragon. His hair was still damp and… and Gajeel had to blink a few times, because Cobra was wearing his clothes: a loose black t-shirt and pair of gray sweatpants, both a little big on his lithe frame.

"What," the lounging elf playfully sneered, "Did you stop for flowers?"

Gajeel crossed the space between them in two strides and practically dove into the arms of the smaller man. Their mouths met and the battle for dominance began. And Cobra pulled, fought back in their embrace; he didn't lay there passively. Cobra was flexible and could move with ease, but Gajeel had more mass on his side and used it to his advantage as he rolled them both off the couch and onto the carpet.

He managed to pin Cobra beneath him, settling his hips between Cobra's legs, and almost losing all rational thought as he rutted against him.

The iron dragon's lips parted as a husky growl rumbled from his throat and slipped out past his fangs: "So ya broke in, used all my hot water, stole my clothes, and cleaned out my fridge? And you expect me to let you get away with that for free?"

Gajeel was far from mad. Cobra being in his house, seeing Cobra wearing his clothes, knowing his mate was sated by food he provided - it was all pulling right at that primal, possessive side of him in all the right ways.

"Not breaking in if you don't lock your doors," Cobra replied cooly. "You were practically asking for it."

Gajeel wanted to fuck him through the goddamn floor right there and then.

"Let's play a game," Cobra said, mouth still so close that their lips brushed with each word, single violet eye glinting up at the man above him.

"Yeah? Since when do you wanna play games...?"

Smirking, Cobra pulled back, knowing just how to egg Gajeel on: "If you're afraid you'll lose, I could always-"

Gajeel silenced him with a kiss, pressing him firmly against the floor with his body. "I like winning games," he rumbled, "'Specially against you."

"If I can pin you to the couch, I get to fuck you," Cobra explained the first part of the game.

The iron dragon immediately perked to attention. He loved when Cobra spoke dirty, and loved the sound of this game - just as much as Cobra knew he would. "That sounds kinda one-sided," he said, though he shifted his weight in anticipation anyways.

"Let me finish," the redhead scolded him, enjoying the way Gajeel's breath hitched as he pressed himself flush against him. Cobra's hand slid between them, sliding down, and his palm paid special, gripping attention to a growing bulge in Gajeel's pants. "If you can get me upstairs, you can tie me to the bed and do whatever you want to me."

Gajeel clenched his eyes shut as Cobra's hand squeezed suddenly, firmly, as a faint groan escaped him. "Really, you're s-sure?"

"Yeah," Cobra confirmed. It hadn't been too long ago that the thought of being tied up and fucked would have made him recoil, but he trusted Gajeel. He knew Gajeel had a thing for bondage and trusted him to not take things too far - and Gajeel wanted to show him that trust was not misplaced.

Iron claws surfaced and flexed, hungry fangs peeked out of Gajeel's mouth in barely contained urge. "Funny, you gave yourself the closer spot."

"You've got more muscle on your side."

"You've got fancy ears, you know what I'm gonna do," Gajeel pointed out.

Cobra gingerly traced a finger down Gajeel's jaw, fangs glinting in a devilish little grin. "When's that ever stopped you...?"

________________________

"Hn?" Gajeel cocked a studded brow, noting how easily his fingers had gone in.

The tied-up redhead under him still somehow managed to scrape up enough cockiness in his voice: "I was ready for either of us to win tonight."

"Ya mean ta tell me that you were up here pleasing yerself in MY bed and you just let me sit at my desk ALL FUCKEN DAY?!"

#fairy tail #gajeel redfox #erik cobra #cojeel #fanfic #cobra #i can now say that i've titled a fic after a hozier song so i'll cross that off my bucket list #no beta bc my mind would not stop going LEGGY until i posted this please let me have peace now

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petri808 · 4 years

Text

Something in Common

Based on an idea I got from this post that I just felt like writing after chatting with @bmarvels about it lol. It was written directly on Tumblr so please ignore any grammar mistakes 😅

Nalu/Shicca one shot crossover

🔸🔹🔸🔹🔸🔹🔸🔹🔸🔹🔸🔹🔸🔹🔸🔹

“You’re not gonna leave, huh?” The annoyed blonde sighs. “Try not to make a mess while I take a bath please.”

Natsu rolls his eyes, of course, he wasn’t planning to. “I’m just gonna watch some lacrimavision. How much trouble can I get in doing that?”

“Shall I remind you what happened with my last lacrimavision set?”

“No,” he slumps his shoulders. It was an accident, but she still held it against him. “I’ll behave.”

“Good.” Lucy walks away having won that round.

She’d been dying to try out a bath bomb set Cana had given her at the Holiday party. It would have been more relaxing if she was home alone, but those times were few and far between with a certain slayer practically living with her.

Once safely behind her locked bathroom door, Lucy opens up the packaging that held four colorful balls. She grabs a pinkish colored one and places the rest on the counter, then holds it close to her nose to take a whiff.

It smelled divine! Rose, Sakura, and Vanilla all mixed together in a perfect floral blend. Not overpowering like some parfums can be. It was natural, herbal in a way, and reminded her of the natural hot springs they found on True Island. Relaxing with all the girls had been so much fun. ‘I hope we’ll all see each other again...’

Lucy turns on the faucet and waits for the tub to fill with water. While she waits, she strips off her clothes and winds her hair up into a messy bun. She tests the waters periodically to make sure it’s not too hot.

As soon as the tub is half full she drops the bomb in and immediately it begins to foam. It was so pretty! And cool to watch, for the bubbling action was full of churning shades of reds, then purples, and yellows. ‘How curious,’ she wonders. The outside was only reds and white but perhaps inside were other colors.

No matter, as the scent remains the same. It’s beautiful notes filling the room, clinging to the vapors and sticking to her hair. Such a neat little bath bomb, she’ll have to ask Cana where she got them from. Lucy shuts off the water as it nears the 3/4 mark on the tub. It was time to soak and send her aches and pains to another realm.

She places one foot into the steaming waters. How interesting, it tingles, like the tickling feeling you get on your nose when you’re drinking a carbonated drink. She steps all the way inside ready to submerge herself into the aromatic cocktail.

When in a flash, the waters begin to churn on their own! Swirling into a small whirlpool. Lucy tries to get out but it’s sucking her in. “Natsu!!” She cries out once before darkness swallows her whole.

The slayer looks up from the couch towards the bedroom. “Lucy?” He’d heard the scream loud and clear, but only the one. Had she seen a bug again? He walks into the room and knocks on the bathroom door, checking the knob but finding it locked.

“Lucy are you okay in there?” Seconds tick by and with each passing his level of concern heightens. “Lucy?!” He bangs louder on the door. “Answer me!!”

But there was nothing except a deadly silence coming from within. Screw it, if she got mad about the door, he’ll fix it later. Natsu smashes it off it’s hinges and rushes inside. “Lucy?” The room was empty! Just a haze of steam to greet him and a tub full of purplish pink water as still as a grave. Even the small window in the room was closed. How did the woman disappear?! Had she drowned?!

Without thinking, he jumps into the tub ready to scan the murky water. As soon as both legs make contact, it begins to churn. Natsu leaps up to get out, but the water grabs hold of his legs and pulls him back down. “What the fu...”

Darkness envelops him so suddenly, he has no idea what just happened. He tries to light up his hands to give him some light, but nothing happens. All he can feel is a sense of weightless falling. Did a wizard just cast a spell on them?!

When Lucy tries to open her eyes, the light surrounding her seemed so bright compared to the pitch black ink she’d been falling through a moment ago. She blinks a few times to clear the gaze and allow her vision to correct itself. Wherever she was, she could feel water surrounding her lower body again. Was it a dream and she just woke up back in her tub? Her eyes find purchase once more, but what she saw stunned her.

And just as she was about to open her mouth to address the situation, Natsu appears out of thin air sitting beside her. He was flailing or fighting against an unseen foe. She grabs his arms. “Natsu, calm down!”

The man stops immediately. “Lucy?!” He couldn’t fully see her because his vision was still messed up, but her scent was recognizable. “Lucy!” He throws his arms around her. “I was so worried!”

“M-Me too,” she squeaks out from his tight hold.

“Ahem.”

A throat clearing gets their attention. Lucy pushes Natsu off of her. By now his eye sight was fully back to normal and his face turns crimson. That’s when she remembers... she was naked. Lucy covers her chest. “Look away you pervert!”

“Excuse me?” The voice starts up again. “Where did you come from?!”

Now that he knew Lucy was safe and sound, Natsu turns to the voice. He recognizes the person immediately. “Rebecca?!” He looks excitedly to Lucy, “hey it’s our space friend!”

“I can see that,” she mumbles back. “Though I don’t understand how we got here.”

“Do you?” Natsu asks the stunned B-cuber who shakes her head no.

“You tell me,” Rebecca quips. “You’re the one who dropped in on my bath.”

“Wait, does that mean we’re on that ship you told us about?” Lucy questions the other woman.

“Yeah.”

Lucy looks at Natsu, “I-I think that bath bomb created a magical portal.”

“But why would it bring us here?”

The only answer Lucy could think of was her wish shortly before getting into the bath. “I was reminiscing about True Island and relaxing with just the girls... I guess I missed it.”

“Awww,” Rebecca squeals, “I think about that too!”

“Really?! With you and Elie, it was just nice cause we have a lot in common,” Lucy thumbs at the man sitting beside her, “the guys.”

Rebecca giggles, “so true.”

Natsu just narrows his eyes at the two giggling women. Tch figures they talk about them. “I hate to break up this reunion, but how are we supposed to get home?”

At that moment, a loud bang startles the three. They all turn to the door that’s been flung open, staring at the newcomer.

“Rebecca are you okay? I heard you scream!” Shiki pans over the room. “Wait a minute, how did...” a smile taking over his expression, “it’s the Fairy friends!” The excited man jumps into the bath, gaining another shriek from everyone when a wave of water hits them.

“Shiki?! Your clothes!”

“Huh?” He looks down, “should I take them off?” He asks already tugging at his shirt.

“N-No!” A blushing Rebecca grabs his arm and just pulls him into a sitting position. “Just sit!”

Lucy giggles, “see! Things in common. But Natsu’s right, we need to figure out a way home.”

“Awww! But you guys just got here!” Shiki whines.

“Hush, you,” Rebecca scolds him. “I’m sure they have things to do back home.” She smiles at their friends. “We can drop you off on your planet.”

“Well...” Lucy looks to Natsu. “I guess a short vacation wouldn’t be such a bad thing.”

Shiki leans forward excitedly, “you guys can hang with us till we finish this mission! It’ll be fun!”

“A mission?!” Natsu grins. “Do I get to kick some ass?!”

“Hell yeah!” Shiki grins too.

Rebecca chuckles. “Meanwhile, Lucy and I can hang out. Starting now.” She looks at Shiki and Natsu. “Get out of our bath!”

“Eep!” The two men stiffen at the sound of her shrill tone. No one needed to tell them twice. Both Shiki and Natsu jump up and rush out of the room leaving the two women alone again.

Rebecca winks at Lucy, “let the relaxation commence!”

#fairy tail #edens zero #nalu #shicca #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #shiki granbell #rebecca bluegarden #crossover drabble #nalu fan fic #shicca fan fic

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lonelypond · 3 years

Text

Parent Trap, Ch. 6

NicoMaki, Love Live, 3.8K, 6/?

Summary: More things happen in the wrong order.

Girls On Film

Eli had texted that Nico had stopped by the office, upset, so Eli would be home too late for dinner. Nozomi frowned as the evening went on and the twins restlessness increased. So she sat them down with their own decks of playing cards, pulled out her Tarot cards and focused on Eli.

Lovers, always The Lovers, always connected with Eli. Magician Reversed, that was a little concerning. Something not going according to plan...followed by a reversed Ten Of Cups, the idyllic family scene overturned, conflicting values...Nozomi frowned and dealt another card: Queen Of Wands. That was a relief. Or a call to face up to something. But definitely an argument that even if Nozomi’s current path hit a few bumps, there was confidence in her decision.

“Mommy?”

Vik, ever sensitive to mood, sat next to Nozomi. Teddy was using both decks to build a card tunnel.

“Yes, Vik.”

“Is Mama mad at you?”

Vik always got to the point. They were extremely reliable about finding the one nagging weakness in either Nozomi or Eli’s arguments about anything and skewering it, directly on target.

“No, Auntie Nico just wanted to talk to her.”

“Is Auntie Nico mad at you?”

Nozomi chuckled, that was the question that kept coming back to her mind. “I don’t know, Рыбка (sweetie), maybe…”

Vik pointed at the Queen Of Wands, “That’s a Queen? She has short hair like me.”

“Yes, she does.”

“Is she friendly?”

Nozomi bobbed her head, debating how to reply. Vik had been showing more interest in the Tarot recently, “Friendly, but firm if you’ve messed up.”

“Like Mama.”

Nozomi couldn’t hold in the belly laugh as Vik spoke exactly what she’d been thinking.

“MOMMY!!! Look at this.” Teddy was waving frantically at her tunnel, tilting precariously at the start. “Take a picture for Mama.”

“Okay, Солнце (Sunshine).” Nozomi grabbed her phone, Vik sliding into her seat to examine the cards closer.

###

Nico hadn’t texted or called. Maki had to force herself to stop pacing next to Dia’s crib when she got her tucked in for the night. Dia had been fussy all day, but with no nap, actually fell asleep easily. Maybe a long soak was would be relaxing. Maki turned on the baby monitor, set up candles, dropped a lavender bath bomb, but couldn’t get Nico out of her mind. The mood had been so strange. Nico and her mother had obviously been having a private, complicated conversation and Maki couldn’t ignore the gut feeling that it was about her.

Maki really liked Nico. And although that morning in Philly had been intense, it hadn’t felt rushed. Nico had just made a safe space for them, for Maki to express what she wanted. What she really wanted. And really wanted again and again, which was an unusual feeling for her. The few times she’d been physically intimate with a potential partner, there had been affection, but no urgency about what next. Not seeing Nico, thinking maybe that this time Nico was the one indifferent, lacking urgency, that actually seemed to hurt. And Maki needed to know that she was guessing wrong about Nico’s feelings.

Panic stripped away subtext. And she sent the text before she could reread it.

M: Was today too much? Dia just really wanted to see you.

M: So did I. I’ve been looking forward to you being back in Chicago so we could ….

M: But we didn’t have to rush into the family thing...with your Mom...I can do casual…

Maki reread what she’d sent. And dropped her phone on the tray next to the bath. Too much, too clingy...Nico was going to forget Maki’s number and be on the way to her next, non clingy post concert groupie as soon as she could…

###

Nico stared intently at the screen of her phone, willing Eli to text her that Nozomi was crushed by the weight of guilt and Maki was fine with Nico continuing to court her....court her. Nico raspberried herself...this wasn’t courting, this was Nico wanting everything with the hot, fascinating, really into Nico Maki Nishikino...but what if Dia already happened to be theirs? Because of something Nozomi did. That would weird Maki out, make everything strange, and Nico had been sensing Maki leaning toward psyching herself out. Nico had been hoping getting back to Chicago would let Nico get them back on track, but what could Nico say if she saw Maki, without stumbling over Dia.

Maki’s text tone. Eli was weak and hadn’t done anything yet, she was probably driving around in circles pyching herself up to talk to Nozomi. And Eli had impressed upon Nico exactly how much grief Maki’s parents' lawyers could make for both of them, making Nico swear not to talk to Maki until Eli did. But Eli was weak… And Maki was texting.

M: But we didn’t have to rush into the family thing...with your Mom...I can do casual…

Nico had done casual a couple of times. She didn’t want it. She wanted the connection she felt when Maki looked at her, the openness, the vulnerability, the trust....and from what little Maki had said about her dating life prior to Nico, Nico guessed that intimacy had led to cooling off, so Maki was probably freaking out ‘cause Nico had been blowing her off all day. But not because of Maki reasons…

Nico’s promise to Eli wasn’t as important as Maki. Maki obviously needed emotional aftercare. Nico hit call.

“Nico?”

Maki sounded like she’d been caught mid yawn. It was adorable.

“Hi, Maki. Sorry I didn’t get back to you about takeout. Had to talk to Eli.”

“Is everything all right, Nico?” Nico heard a splash? Was Maki in the bath? The phone was obviously on speaker.

“Nico would like to join you in the bath.”

Maki laughed, it was euphoric, Nico was so hooked, Maki's voice hit Nico in all the good places. “They used to do that in movies, talk on the phone in their separate bubble baths, put their feet up, show off some leg.”

“Nico would love to see that.”

“So would I.” A little bit shy. Nico was beginning to forget why she’d been reluctant to call Maki.

“I’m in bed…”

“What’d you have for dinner.”

“Didn’t.”

“You sound like me in med school.”

“What were you like in med school? Were you buried in books? Or bodies? Dating cute nurses? Would you even have noticed Nico ten years ago?”

“How could anyone not notice Nico?”

“That’s what Nico always says…” Nico seized on an idea, maybe she could actually keep their conversation clear of things that Nico wasn’t ready to talk about, “What would we have talked about ten years ago?”

“I had this terrible roommate.”

“Really?”

“Really. Wild party animal, had to barricade myself in my room.” Maki sounded more amused than upset.

“You snuck into the parties, didn’t you?”

A pause, what might be towel noises. Nico desperately wanted a video call, “Maybe…but then my grades dropped and I moved back home.”

Keep this vibe going, Nico told herself. “So what did you do for fun after your brush with the wild side?”

“Piano. And Rin and I played soccer in a league. That was fun.”

“Nico bets you looked cute in your uniform.”

Sexy indignation that made Nico want to rip off whatever Maki had covered herself with, “ I looked HOT, Nico, I was 22 and in great shape.”

“You’re still in great shape, Nico knows.”

A giggle, a pause, two people syncing up again.

“What were you like ten years ago?” Maki asked softly, her voice a frisson in Nico's ear.

“Too busy for anything. Constantly on tour. Studying finance on the side. I got my economics degree over six years. Magna cum laude.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Nico planned to be a success. Now the suits can’t say Nico doesn’t know how business works.”

“Impressive.” Maki breathed.

‘Nico strives.”

###

10 p.m. Nozomi was getting worried. Eli was never out this late. Nozomi had let the twins roughhouse past their bedtime because whenever Eli got home, there was going to be a serious conversation. Although the cards had been full of warnings about that, Nozomi knew the truth in her gut before she dealt out the spread.

Key in the door, sigh as Eli closed it behind her. Eli, looking tired, wearing glasses, she’d been crying. She stopped, clear gaze meeting Nozomi’s.

“I’ve hurt my oldest friend, exposed myself to litigation, and could lose my practice. Was that what you meant to happen, Nozomi?”

Nozomi winced.

Eli had her hands shoved in the pockets of her overcoat, “What were you thinking?”

“About?”

“Nozomi.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Eli. Has Nico been lying about me?”

Eli glared, her jaw set, nostrils flared. “If this is how you’re going to behave, I’ll be in the guest room.”

“That upsets the twins. Can’t you just pretend to fall asleep on the couch again?” Nozomi knew this was not the ideal way to react, but with Eli so serious, she found an edge of panic pushing her to impulsive speech.

“Nozomi…” Eli’s hands were warm and strong as she held Nozomi’s, “Please just explain why you altered Nico’s paperwork.”

“I had a feeling.”

“Nico was crying. Maki’s going to be livid.”

Nozomi felt a twinge of guilt, sure, but she also knew that everything would work out. This must be about Dia. Nico and Maki were getting along, that was obvious from Nico’s texts to Eli. Surely they could sort it out.

“I’d like to say something to Maki that doesn’t just sound like my wife played a stupid prank. Please, Nozomi, help me understand.”

Nozomi giggled, “I had a feeling, Eli. The cards had told me there would be a change in Nico’s fortunes and then I saw her in your office…she obviously wants a family, Eli, she always has, you told me that. I just want to help the universe give her one. Just let them work it out."

Eli had no reply. When Nozomi doubled down on ‘the cards’ and intuition, there was no opening for Eli to logic her out of her beliefs. And the damnable thing was, it always worked out. But this wasn’t their life, this was Nico and Maki and Dia’s. Nozomi had been wrong to meddle. And left Eli terribly vulnerable.

Too exhausted to argue or strategize any more, Eli tossed her coat on the couch. “I’m going to bed. I have to talk to Maki tomorrow.”

“Did you eat?”

Eli shrugged.

“It will work out, Eli. Have faith."

Eli shook her head, “Good night, love.”

A too quick kiss on the cheek, leaving Nozomi alone, to curl up in Eli’s coat, on a corner of the couch, unpleasantly surprised by Eli’s intransigence. Had she gone too far this time?

###

A long afternoon, Maki finally getting a chance to look at her phone. Message from Raye, Dia’s nanny. Dia fussy and running a fever, over a hundred. Maki bit her lip. That might explain yesterday’s fit of temper and how easily Dia fell asleep last night.

“Dr. Nishikino?” The lab tech came around the corner.

“What’s up, Kadir?”

“Do you want to see the results of Mx. Nabe’s bloodwork?”

Maki glanced at her smart watch. Her shift was over twenty minutes ago. And the late dinner with Nico was now probably not going to happen. “Let me check something.” Maki walked confidently to the call board. Tonight’s on call orthopedic surgeon was Dr. Wilhimena Mae Tompkins. Top of the line. Maki’s first or second choice. “Just send them to Dr. Tompkins. The patient’s already been moved to a room, right?”

“Orderlies just took her upstairs.”

“Guess I’m done here then. Dia’s running a fever so I’ve got one more patient to see.” Maki winked, Kadir grinned.

“See you in a couple days then, Doc. And I hope Dia feels better.”

“Thanks. I’m sure it’s nothing. She’s probably teething.”

Now to text Nico.

###

Nico hadn’t heard from Eli all day. Obviously Eli had chickened out. Like Nico expected. Time for a call. Eli picked up.

“Are you hiding from your wife in your office?”

“Shut up, Nico.”

“Don’t talk to Nico like that. You promised Nico you’d talk to Maki. Have you talked to Maki?”

No reply.

“Eli.”

“I’m still working out what to say.”

“Start with, I really didn’t mean for my nosy, pushy, annoying hussy of a wife to…”

“Don’t talk about Nozomi like that.”

NIco sighed, “C’mon, Eli. Nozomi is currently on the bottom of Nico’s friend list. I’m not going to be nice.”

“She’s my wife, Nico. It’s complicated.”

“What is happening to Nico is complicated. You’re just not willing to deal with the consequences of your wife’s intrusive, illegal, apocalyptic meddling. Nico could sue.”

“Yes, you could.” Eli sounded so tired, but Nico had zero sympathy for the enabler.

“Talk to Maki or I will.”

“Nico.”

End call. Before Nico could put her phone down, Maki’s text tone pinged.

M: Dia’s got a fever. I’m heading home. We'll have to postpone dinner ●︿●

N: Nico will bring dinner over (っ˘ڡ˘ς)

M: Pizza?

Nico chuckled.

N: Whatever the sexy doctor wants.

M: Pizza ᕕ[ ᓀ ڡ ᓂ ]ㄏ─∈

M: And you （＾_-）

N: Is an hour good?

M: Sure.

N: See both my best girls then.

Nico hit Eli’s number.

“Tell Maki.”

“Tomorrow.”

“Eli.”

“I’m drafting a presentation to explain right now.”

“Include a big picture of Nozomi with an arrow pointing to guilty.”

“Good night, Nico.”

“Talk to Maki, Eli. Or Nico talks to lawyers.”

Eli seemed more concerned about Nico and the Nishikino’s lawyers than what Nozomi’s action had cost Nico. Eli continued to fail, freefalling down Nico’s friend list. Another call. Mama. Nico let that go to voicemail. Maybe she should forward that voicemail and the three before it to Eli. Maybe then Eli would realize some of the pressure Nico was feeling.

###

Nico knocked. Maki was right there, opening the door, in a showcasing all her curves casual combo of black leggings and a mostly undone gray henley. She waved Nico into the wide open family room that seemed to make up at least 70% of the first floor of the carriage house. A baby grand was tucked into a windowed corner, a huge sectional sofa was centered and facing the fireplace, and the walls were decorated with seasonal photos of a shrine and what looked like birds and dragons restored from antique wooden screens. Set a calm, classy mood.

“So are the Disney movie posters in your bedroom, Cinderella?” Nico bounced up to kiss Maki.

Maki smiled, “I took these photos myself, during some visits to Kyoto and Tokyo, before med school, and the screens are damaged family heirlooms I restored sections of.”

“Hands on decorating.”

“I want Dia to grow up with her heritage around her.”

Silent, Nico walked around the sectional, putting the pizza boxes on the wood and glass table, not sure what to say about Dia.

“She’s feeling better, I think. Her fever went down.” Maki leaned on the sofa back.

“Good.”

“Want to check in on her and say hello before we eat?”

Nico deflected. “Pizza first?”

Maki opened the box with Carmen’s excellent stuffed pesto pizza. A garlic smell wafted out with the steam, filling the room, “It’s still hot.”

“Nico delivered pizzas for a summer. I know the tricks.”

“Nico knows a lot. Let's say good night to Dia.” Maki slid her arm through Nico’s, stealing a quick kiss and half dragging Nico to the stairs.

###

Dia’s nursery was blue and green and white, with a sea and lighthouse theme. Fish and mammals and turtles played on the walls. In the low light of the nightlight, there was an almost bioluminescent glow to the undersea residents.

“Nico is surprised Little Mermaid wasn’t a choice when we talked Disney movies.”

“Don’t like that one…” Maki muttered.

“No, it’d be hard to lose your voice.”

“And music.”

“Yeah. Nico would hate that.”

They stood at the crib, Nico staring down at Dia, Maki watching Nico, Nico trying not to remember Cotaro in his crib, dark hair, serious face...Dia was relaxed, arms flung out, a tiny smile on her face.

What if they were in their house, standing together, Maki and Nico, both of them, looking at a child they’d had together after a whirlwind courtship and marriage? What if this were Nico’s house and when Dia woke up, she looked at Nico, saying “Momma,” and reaching up for a hug? What if…?

“She’s beautiful.” Nico whispered and then her breath hitched and sudden water in her eyes stung. She let go of the crib and rushed to the door.

“Good night, Dia. We’ll see you tomorrow.” Maki left the lightest of kisses on her daughter’s forehead, wondering if she’d seen tears in Nico’s eyes. But Nico was already downstairs, considering the stuffed pizzas.

“Do you want pesto or sausage? And we need plates. And forks. And…”

“I’ve had stuffed pizza before, Nico. Just give me a minute to find the pie server.”

###

Cocoa had raved about a movie called The Half Of It so Nico suggested they watch that. Maki had recognized it, but said Nico needed to watch Saving Face, director Alice Wu’s first movie, about a doctor and a dancer and their families.

“You’ll love the mom. She’s so funny.”

“And the main character’s a doctor? So Nico will find out what doctoring is like?”

“Yep.”

The movie progressed; the pizza was eaten, with occasional garlic flavored kisses shared, but Maki kept picking up unease from Nico. Was it lingering from yesterday, the obvious tension between Nico and her mom? Or whatever Nico and Eli had talked about last night? Something obviously had claimed some of Nico’s attention. But after pizza, Maki had curled up next to Nico, encouraging Nico to drop her arm around Maki’s shoulder. And as the flirting between Wil and Vivian got sexier, kisses and more intimate gestures right there on the screen, building a mood, Maki could feel Nico pull her closer. Maki nudged Nico on the cheek, getting her to turn, tempting her into a luring, longing kiss. Whatever worries had been on Nico’s mind had been eclipsed, Maki smiling as she felt agile hands slide under her shirt, warm against bare skin, Nico murmuring endearments between kisses and shiver inducing nibbles along Maki’s neck and jaw.

And then Nico’s phone went off, one of her raps.

“Damn it.” Nico grabbed for her phone, Maki falling down on the couch when Nico let go, “It’s Cocoro’s emergency tone. Sorry.” And all Nico’s attention was on the call, “What’s up? Nico’s super busy....Yes, Maki and Dia came to the house yesterday. Did Mama tell you?”

Dia? Alert, Maki sat up.

Nico was listening. “What did Mama say...why...no, we can’t say that….Nico won’t let…”

Maki had no idea why Nico’s sister had anything to say about Dia. Nico had turned away, about to get off the couch, Maki reached over Nico’s shoulder, pulling the phone away, switching it to speaker.

“Why are you talking about my daughter?”

“Dr. Nishikino?” Cocoro’s voice was tense, “You’re there? Good, then we can settle what the language should be.”

“What language? Why does Nico have anything to do with Dia?”

Nico grunted, it reminded Maki of someone stubbing a toe.

“Pictures have been circulating on TWIG of Nico Yazawa’s secret daughter.”

“Nico doesn’t have a secret daughter…” Maki suddenly realized she was doing all the talking, “Nico?”

Nico took her phone back, leaving it on speaker, but switching to the TWIG app. A quick search of “#Nico” brought up a snap of Nico hugging Dia in front of her house, Nico’s mother in the background, Maki nowhere to be seen.

Nico stared. Cocoro continued to panic chatter, “All we need to do is release a picture of you, Dr. Nishikino, Dr. Nishikino’s daughter, and the statement that you and Dr. Nishikino are dating and Dia is not your daughter. People are running facial match software and getting confirmation. Next they’ll be wondering who the father is…”

“Dia doesn't have a father,” Maki’s fists clenched. No one but Eli was supposed to have any details of her pregnancy with Dia.

“Shut up. Both of you.” Nico snapped, the phone dropping to the couch, Nico’s head dropping into her hands.

“Just tell them Dia’s my daughter.”

Cocoro's tone brightened. “Dr. Nishikino is being unexpectedly helpful, Nico. We can get ahead of this.”

“Just release the statement, Cocoro. Nico and I can talk to the press.” A practical solution, Maki decided.

“Let Nico think. Both of you. Just be quiet. Nico needs quiet.” Nico ended the call.

“Nico, Dia is my daughter. We can just tell everyone. We don’t have to keep us dating a secret. I don’t care what my parents think.” Maki sat next to Nico, brushing fingers through Nico’s hair.

There was a long pause, Nico enjoying Maki's touch. Then she pulled away. “Maki could just marry me. That might save Nico.” Nico sounded like someone hanging onto a building ledge by a ladder made of split fingernails and cruel laughter.

Nico’s tone and odd behavior scared Maki, “How can you joke about that, Nico?”

Nico raised her head, tears streaming down her face, “You don’t know this yet, but Nico is a terrible liar.”

“What does that mean Nico? Do you have a secret daughter…”

“Maki…”

Maki’s ringtone went off. She glanced at her phone, “It’s Eli.”

Nico dropped her head again, “Answer it. We might as well blow everything up.”

Maki hit speaker, snarling, “What is it, Eli? Want to let me know Dia is Nico’s daughter too?”

“Oh good,” Eli sounded relieved, “Nico told you.”

Maki was on her feet, shouting, “NICO TOLD ME WHAT?!!!???!!!”

“About her paperwork? And Nozomi? I'm really sorry, Maki.”

Maki felt pale. Her knees wobbled. The room unfocused. Black spots dotting everything. Nico ended the call.

Before Maki could fall, Nico was there, “Maki? C’mon, breathe. Take it slow, breathe for Nico.”

Maki shook off Nico, and ran upstairs to Dia, pulling her out of her crib, holding her tightly, Dia blinking, confused. Nico was there, almost instantly.

“Can we talk?”

“Go away, Nico.”

“Maki. Please.”

“GO AWAY NOW, NICO!” Maki screamed. “Leave us alone.”

Dia started to cry.

Nico stepped back, “Call me later, please, Maki. Or let Eli explain. I’ll have Cocoro tell everyone Dia’s your daughter. I’m sorry this happened like this." A pause, Nico reaching a hand out, almost touching them. "It’ll be all right, Dia.”

“Don’t tell Dia anything.” Maki growled, Dia pressed against her as she glared at Nico, daring her to come any closer.

Retreating into the hall, Nico forced tears back, or she’d be wailing as loud as Dia. How had this gone so wrong?

A/N: Rainy, moody weather.

#NicoMaki #baby Dia #Nishikino Maki #Yazawa Nico #NozoEli #Ayase Eli #Tojo Nozomi #Single Parent AU #angsty

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queenlists · 5 years

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Yours

A/N: We’re at 70! I thank every single one of you whether you follow or not. It’s been brightening my days getting notifications of people following, liking, and/or sharing. I never thought I’d see 70 on this page. THANK YOU! This is a story involving post-death Kyle Spencer. WARNING: Mentions of death and abuse! Thank you so much, again. I hope you enjoy this ✌

Post Date: 12/15/2019

He seemed dangerous.

“Kyle, no! I can’t get him to stop! Help me, (Y/n)!” Zoe screamed to me, her face a ghostly pale and her eyes reddened with fear.

The kind of person you’d better steer clear of.

He couldn't speak - only grunt, groan, and yell.

He flung his arms around, knocking things over.

Kyle threw everything in his path at the wall. Pushing over dressers, throwing lamps, throwing books, ripping pillows apart, tearing blankets, etc. Anything that could be destroyed in any way was. The way he flung his arms around showed that he lacked motor skills, he couldn’t really control his arms as they flung around him lifelessly only causing him to scream, yell, and destroy some more.

He seemed inhuman, animalistic if you will.

He lacked self control.

He lacked control, period.

“I am so happy he’s calm now. I was getting so scared!” Madison fanned herself with her hand. Zoe stood there watching Kyle, shaking violently. “What the hell did you two do?” I hissed at the two who exchanged looks with one another. “Hello?! I need to know what happened! Why is Frankenstein’s son in the coven?”

Apparently, he wasn’t always this way.

From what Zoe told me, she met Kyle at a party. He was kind and sweet before Madison flipped the bus that he was in over, killing him in the crossfire.

They managed to resurrect him after treating his body like Mr. Potato Head, playing Build-A-Boyfriend.

“He’s not the same, Kyle. I don’t think I can do this,” Zoe sobbed. “Well, I’m not.” Madison scoffed. Taking a deep breath, I rolled my eyes “You two owe me big time.” Madison and Zoe celebrated amongst themselves as I got up to walk to Kyle. His big, dark eyes looked up at me and I couldn’t help, but to smile at him.

He didn’t come back the same sweet frat boy he once was.

That scared Zoe and Madison off.

Leaving me to deal with what they created.

At first, I minded. Now, not so much.

I can see it in his eyes that he means well.

After a day or two, I could not handle his outbursts any longer. Every day was a constant losing battle. I was up every hour on the hour consoling him back to sleep and calming his rage fits down. I was beyond exhausted. With little thought, Zoe, Madison, and I decided taking Kyle home to his mom was our best bet. When we got there, his mom was ecstatic. Him not so much. As the door closed between us, he stared at me with cold, sad eyes. A tension crept down my spine. "Okay, we learned our lesson with that. Never again!" Madison huffed. "Yeah, never again" Zoe agreed. As we walked away, I couldn't help but keep looking back. Something inside of me was screaming to turn back. Something was wrong. Something was going to be wrong.

A few days passed and I could not shake Kyle from my mind. Throwing on clothes, I rushed downstairs to go pay him a visit. Knocking did nothing. Nobody was answering which was all too odd. I felt a coldness in the air. A coldness that meant no good. I welcomed myself into the home, creeping around the house as I breathed in the still of the air. Then I saw it. I saw what I feared most. Kyle's mom dea, lying in a pool of her own blood. I covered my mouth as I backed out of the room. My heart thudding hard against my chest. My hands creating a pool of sweat. I backed up until I was stopped by a stiff body behind me, turning around shakily there he was. Kyle, bloodied. His eyes were red-rimmed and crazy. His lip quivering. "Kyle, what did you do?" Kyle stood there, just watching me. Something happened. He wasn't a monster. Something happened.

"Are you hungry? You must be hungry." I gave Kyle's cheek a gentle pat before navigating my way to the kitchen to prepare him something. He stayed put, frozen in his spot. I slowly put together a sandwich for him, gathering my thoughts. I carefully picked up the plate and brought it to Kyle "I want you to go eat, okay?" I sat the plate down on the nearby table. Kyle obediently went to the plate, giving me time to do what I needed to do. I walked back into the room and knelt down beside Kyle's mom's body. With a shaky hand, I pressed my hand gently against her back. I saw it all.

I saw how she hurt him. Touched him in ways she shouldn't have. Violated him. Forced herself onto him. Out of fear, he protected himself. My heart broke in ways it bever did before. I quickly raced to Kyle, tears falling down my face as he looked up to me. He grunted, pointing to himself, to me, and then to the door. "You want to come home with me, baby?" My voice squeaked out. The pain he endured because I chose an extra two hours of rest over his peace hurt me. It shook me to my core that this all could have been prevented if I had only kept him with me. Where I knew he was safe. Where he knew he was safe. He smiled, nodding to me. "Let's go home, Kyle."

----

It was hard. The tantrums. The teaching. I felt tired!

"Kyle put it down now!" I screamed at the enraged man. Little things set him off. He was a ticking time bomb, but he never put his hands on me. Kyle threw the lamp against the wall, grunting loudly. "Kyle, you need to calm down right now!"

I felt lost.

Kyle screamed, tears flowing out of his dark eyes and down his rosy cheeks. He pushed over my bookcase along with my dresser. "I can't do this!" I yelled, putting my face in my hands, sobbing. I didn't know I was about to cry, but the emotions of this were too much for me. The yelling, the destruction, the tantrums were day in and day out. My body shook violently as I loudly sobbed into my hands. Soon, I heard whimpering coming from Kyle. Looking up, he was right there in front of me. "Sorry..I..sorry," Kyle slowly spoke, wiping away my tears "Kyle..sorry. (Y/n), no leave." My heart broke at the fact that he thought he was disposable to me, that I could throw him away at any given moment. Like I had before. “I will never leave you again. I promise.”

--------

“No, no, no, no!” Kyle screamed repeatedly, banging his fists against the bedroom wall. “Kyle, it’s okay! You’re okay. You need to get into the bath,” I walked towards Kyle as he punched holes into the bedroom room. “Kyle, enough!” I yelled loud enough to get his attention “Come with me, baby,” I held my hand out for Kyle as his shoulders slumped and his arms fell loosely to his sides. Kyle stared at my hand as his eyes began to turn red, tears falling down his face. He whimpered "Mad?" Kyle didn't speak much, but he was learning! “No, I'm not mad. You’re okay, honey. Let’s get in the bath.”Kyle walked over to me and fell to his knees in sobs, holding onto my legs. I gently ran my fingers through his soft dirty blonde hair “It’s okay, Kyle. You’re alright.” I managed to get Kyle to stand up and follow me into the bathroom where I already had a bath drawn.

Kyle pointed at the bubbles and smiled, oohing at the sight. “You like bubbles, huh?” I laughed, helping Kyle get undressed. His motor skills were equivalent to a toddler’s. He needed assistance in daily living: dressing, bathing, feeding, etc. I had to watch my words and my temper with him. Some days were way better than others, but I kept my promise. I eased Kyle into the bath slowly and then sat down on the closed toilet once he was in, thrashing and splashing around excitedly. He was full of wonder and amazement with life. I felt complete with him. "Bath?" Kyle smiled, pointing at me. I shook my head, giggling "No, no bath for me!" Kyle poked his bottom lip out as his eyes widened, guilting me with that puppy dog face. I playfully rolled my eyes at him, shaking my head "You're gonna stop that! It won't always work," I warned, undressing.

Getting in the bath, we played together. Splashing, singing, blowing bubbles, etc. With him, life was brightly new. Yes, it was complicated but it was damn worth it.

-------

"I love you," Kyle straightened his tie before heading downstairs to play butler. "I love you too, Kyle!" I smiled, kissing him on the cheek. He grabbed me, getting really close to my face "No, I love you." Words wouldn't come out of my mouth. I knew that things had changed for good when Fiona managed to "fix" him. He didn't rely on me as much, He could dress himself, bathe himself, feed himself, and could express himself. After awhile of it, our time together began to take a different turn, a turn lacking innocence.

"Kyle I-" "I want you. Be mine?" Kyle interrupted, smiling at me with those big, dark irresistible eyes. "I’m yours!" I laughed out, gently kissing him. “Oh my, you two?” Misty gasped, clapping her hands over her smiling mouth. Grinning, I nodded my head “Yes!” “Finally! Stevie and I told you she’d say yes, Kyle. This is wonderful!” Misty wrapped Kyle and I into a tight, warm bear hug.

It was a turn of events I never thought would happen, but through it all, I knew we were a match made forever.

#kyle spencer #kyle spencer ahs #kyle spencer american horror story #american horror story #american horror story imagines #american horror story fanfiction #ahs imagine #evan peters ahs #ahs #ahs fanfiction #ahs fanfic #fantasy #fanfic #fanfiction

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