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writernada · 3 years

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10 Times Yuzuru Hanyu Was Inspiring

Yuzuru Hanyu (26 years old) is a Japanese figure skater. He is a two-time Olympic champion, two- time World champion, Four Continent champion, four times Grand Prix Final champion and five times national champion. He is the only male skater that has achieved a grand slam (won all major competitions in both junior and senior circus). In 2018, he won the People's Honor Award given by the Japanese Prime Minister and became the youngest recipient of this award. He also won the award of the most valuable skater at the International Skating Union Awards for the season 2019-2020. Since his debut in the senior circus in 2011-2012 and until now, Yuzuru's performances have always made a great impact on the audience; allowing him to have the biggest fan base ever in the history of figure skating. His fans are not only from Japan but from all around the world; including other skaters and coaches. The reason behind all of this love is that Yuzuru touches the hearts by performing like an artist, hitting every note, being super passionate about what he does and combining a competitive spirit with a sport soul. On top of all of that, he has an ability to inspire people. His road has never been easy. It is full of injuries, surgeries, illnesses, strong competitors, mistakes and losses. However, he always perserves, pushes through his limits, overcomes adversity and rises in an inspiring way.

Here are the ten times Yuzuru Hanyu was an icon of inspiration:

1- Winning his first medal in the World Championship in 2012 despite having an injury and low stamina.

In his debut in the World championship (senior circus) in 2012, Yuzuru (17) sprained his right ankle during the official practice the day before the short program. His foot swelled up but he decided not to withdraw, taking into account all the effort he has made for this competition and all the people who came here for him (coach, mom and officials). He went ahead and competed. He was ranked seventh in the short program, third in the free program and third overall, winning the bronze medal.

Yuzuru commented on that competition in his autobiography book "Aoi Hono ll":

"Because I was injured the day before the short, I felt that even in that kind of situation 'I landed my quad, I did well’. I felt that I had worked really hard by myself. However, my mother told me, "That is wrong.” Getting injured was my own fault, but there were many people who helped and supported me. That is the reason why I could come to this point. Until about 9 o'clock that night, we were talking about this while having dinner, and in the end, I realized that my thinking was wrong."

Yuzuru was about to get full of himself and let arrogance take over him. However, his mother helped him stay grounded. Thus, he was able to face the free program with a humble attitude. He put out a passionate performance that many people still remember until this day and consider as one of their favorites. During that performance, he tried not to put a lot of pressure on the injured foot so he shifted all the pressure on the other one until it got exhausted and gave up on him. As a result, he fell all of a sudden in the middle of the performance, but he managed to get up right away and perform a great jump right after.

In his autobiography book that was mentioned earlier, Yuzuru talked about this fall and said: "Later, when I watched the videos, I saw that the fall did not take up much time. I was standing up again quickly. But to me, it felt like a long time. When I fell, the feeling was like flying mid-air. Like this (he re-enacts the fall in slow motion), 'ahh, I am stumbling~~’ (laughs). After the fall, I was thinking 'what should I do from here’, many thoughts circled around. Thinking that I won’t make it in time for the next axel jump, I shortened the path by going straight instead of curved. I can jump even a 3A+3A (in practice), so I thought I will be alright. (laughs)”.

One of the most exciting moments during the performance is when Yuzuru shouted out aloud before the choreographic sequence. The shout seemed like a great expression of the emotions of his character (Romeo). It made him look like he was totally into character. However, he clarified that it was unintentional. He said: "I felt like I couldn’t breathe, so I thought, for now just let the breath out. (laughs)"

Yuzuru is known to be suffering from asthma and because of it he had a low stamina at the time. However, even after finding out that the shout wasn't done to express the character's emotions, viewers still find it impactful because it is a genuine expression of Yuzuru's fight against his limits.

That night, Yuzuru made a name for himself internationally. He shed tears of happiness after getting his scores and so did his coach. He also got praised by the winner that night who said: "the one shining the most is Yuzuru".

2- Breaking a World Record and winning gold in his first participation in the winter Olympic Games.

At the age of 19, Yuzuru participated for the first time in the Olympic Games. Young male skaters like him who participate for the first time usually don't dare to dream about winning. The big scale of the competition gets athletes nervous and shaken, even the great and experienced ones of them. Therefore, the young newcomers usually consider their first participation as an experience to have under their belt while preparing for the next Olympic. However, Yuzuru was determind to win. His choreographer at the time, David Wilson, talked about his intense determination in an interview: "he wrote me an email letter that was so touching. He was like please help me do this because I'm ready. I'll do anything. I will die. I'll do anything to be the Olympic Champion. I don't want to wait until 2018. I want it now and I'll do anything. I'm willing to die for it. Anything you tell me, I'll do it but help me."

David Wilson talking about Yuzuru's determination to win the 2014 Olympics

Yuzuru performed a marvelous short program and came out of the rink saying: "I did it!" to which his coach replied: "you certainly did". He broke the world record in his first participation at the Olympics despite his young age. He did get nervous and made mistakes at the free program. However, what he did in the short program was enough to bring him the gold medal and make him achieve his childhood dream.

Yuzuru (11) saying that his dream is to win the Olympics

Yuzuru performing his short program at the 2014 Olympics:

Other Skaters reacting to Yuzuru's World Record at the Olympics:

The moment when Yuzuru finds out he won the 2014 Olympics:

3- Continuing to compete after a pretty bad collusion with another skater during Cup of China 2014:

In 2014, Yuzuru took part in Cup of China, which is one of the events of the Grand Prix Series. Yuzuru was in second place after the short program and during the 6 minuets warm up before the long program he had an accident. He collided with the Chinese skater Han Yan. They were looking at opposite sides and couldn't see each other until it was too late.

Yuzuru talked about the incident in his autobiography book and said: "My stomach hit the ice (when I fell) and so it felt like I received a body blow. My stomach was hurting so much; I could not breathe nor get up. Then, when I tried standing up, my chin was hurting and bleeding. My head was panicking and I didn’t know exactly where all the pain was coming from."

After a few minutes, Yuzuru stood up on his own despite the arrival of medical helpers. He preferred to exit the rink on his own instead of being carried. Backstage, he was examined and given first aid by American doctors.

The Collusion incident at CoC 2014:

In his biography book, Yuzuru gave some details about what happened backstage after the incident:

"I really gave a lot of trouble to the people around me. They told me ‘Don’t compete’. The doctors also said, 'It is not a concussion, so it is possible to skate but we do not recommend it.’Coach Orser also said, 'Now you don’t need to be a hero. You still have more after this, you still can do a lot as a skater.’But 'it has nothing to do with that. I will skate because I want to go to GP Final.’ I think I might have said that to him in Japanese. I wanted to go to the Final somehow. Here, 5th or 4th place is good enough, I can get 1st place in the next competition, so for now I just want to remain connected. If I compete at GPF, I definitely want to have a second consecutive victory. I also want to win the triple crown again (Worlds, GPF, Nationals). I had those kind of thoughts. Now when I look back I think, 'ah I skated well’."

Yuzuru decided to skate his free program and the people around him respected his decision and allowed him to go. He made sure to meet Han Yan before competing again and they exchanged apologies. After that, Yuzuru showed up in the rink with a bandage on his head and a small band on his chin. He skated his free program bravely after making some changes on the layout to adjust to his condition. He fell on five jumps but did full rotations and got grades for that. He also was able to land some jumps in the latter half of the program, which got him extra points. After the performance, his coach Orser was worried about his feelings if he gets a bad score for falling five times so he was preparing him mentally by saying stuff like: "scores don't matter. What matter is what you did out there" but it turned out Orser had nothing to worry about as Yuzuru received a high score. Yuzuru was so surprised and relieved when he saw his score and he burst into tears after holding on for a long time. He won the silver medal in that event.

Yuzuru performing his free program and receiving his score at CoC 2014:

After the competition, American doctors prepared the massage room to do stitches for Yuzuru. He received 7 stitches on his chin with anesthetics and 3 staples on his head without any anesthetics, which was really painful to him! The next day, he traveled to Japan for a medical examination in a trip that he described as hell. The result of the examination was "head contusion (or bruise), chin contusion, abdominal contusion, left thigh contusion and right ankle sprain’.

For ten days, Yuzuru was unable to walk and the recovery took more time than expected. Every time he finds himself able to walk, he would go to the rink, but once he steps his foot into the rink the pain comes back. He thought that he would never be able to skate again, felt so depressed and wanted to quit skating all together. However, his mother told him "how about just giving it a try anyway? If you skate just a little on the ice every day with the intention of rehabilitation, the situation may change for the better" her response surprised him because she never tried to stop him from quitting in the past whenever he said he wanted to quit. With that new attitude of his mother, Yuzuru became optimistic about being able to skate again, and found the willpower to try and even aim to win at the next competition of the Grand Prix Series, which was NHK.

At NHK, Unfortunately, Yuzuru wasn't able to present great performances and once he finished his free program he thought to himself: "ah, the final is gone!" he thought that all his efforts in Cup of China were for nothing, but luckily, the total of his points combined from the two competitions made him the last qualified skater for the final. Thus, he was able to take part in the final, presented great performnces and won the gold medal after all the struggles he went through.

4- Winning at Nationals 2014 despite bleeding and needing a surgery:

After the short program at the Grand Prix Final, Yuzuru felt some kind of pain in his stomach whenever he stretched or pressed on it. He thought that it must be a damage in the muscle tissue but after the free program, he found something that looks like a Ping Pong ball sticking out beneath his navel. It was so painful to the extent that he couldn't sleep on his flight back to Japan. When he landed, he went to the hospital right away and was told that he might have Urachal Remnant Disorder. He was given some antibiotic and sent home because his condition wasn't bad. However, once he returned home, and got into the shower, his navel burst and started bleeding. He went back to the hospital and it was confirmed that he has Urachal Remnant. He needed to undergo a surgery but he couldn't afford to have it any time soon because the Japanese national competition (All Japan) was a few weeks away. He was determined to attend it so he decided to bear with the pain and delay the surgery. Without telling anybody about his problem, he attended his trainings after wrapping himself with gauze to prevent blood from staining his clothes. That didn't work out well and blood still got to his clothes so when it was time for the competition, he was worried that his costume might get stained. To prevent that from happening, he put a strong tape on top of the gauze, which was painful, but did the job. In this condition, Yuzuru took part in the Japanese national competition, and despite a few mistakes in both of his programs, his endurance of pain didn't go in vain, and he actually won.

Yuzuru commented about this situation in his book by saying: "It was painful to bend forward and backward, but I tried to do whatever I could in that situation. I even did the Ina bauer, but I could not arch back at all. In fact, I also intended to do the biellmann spin! However, when I started the spin, I changed it into an A-line"

Yuzuru performing his free program and putting his hand on his stomach while leaving the ice during All Japan 2014:

5- Rising from fifth place to first in the World Championships 2017:

At the World Championship in 2017, Yuzuru made some mistakes in the short program that left him sitting in fifth place behind his rivals. The gap between him and the first place was around 11 points. He was so disappointed in himself but didn't give up. He wanted to go practice harder. However, his coaches stopped him from overworking himself and made sure that he takes a good rest and goes through a normal practice. After that, he collected himself, focused, stayed calm and presented one of the greatest performances ever. It was flawless and magnificent. His coach Brian Orser said that he felt privileged to have witnessed this performance. Yuzuru got a very high score that made him scream and left him on the verge of shedding happy tears. His coach Brian Orser was speechless while his other coach Tracy Wilson had her mouth wide open in astonishment. With that, Yuzuru was able to rise from fifth place to first and win the championship.

Yuzuru performing his free program and receiving his score at the WC 2017:

6- Winning the second Olympic title right after being away from the ice for 3 months due to a severe injury:

Before the beginning of the Olympic season, Yuzuru was done with his preparation very early and was all ready to compete. His coach Brian Orser couldn't believe how smoothly things were going and felt a little uneasy about the fact that Yuzuru was ready very early. His worry wasn't pointless because soon enough Yuzuru sustained a severe injury. It happened during the official practice before NHK. Yuzuru was practicing (4Lutz) which was a new jump he has been practicing that season. He landed the jump in a wrong way causing ligament damage to his right ankle. The injury forced him out of competition for the rest of the season.

Yuzuru's fall and injury at NHK 2017:

Yuzuru disappeared and was away from the ice for three months. During that time, he didn't make any T.V appearances or interviews. Thus, nobody knew anything about him and his condition. His participation in the Olympics and the mere ability to perform again became uncertain. A lot of people doubted he would be able to comeback. However, he showed up at Incheon Airport in South Korea surrounded by guards and declared that he was ready to compete and that he believes he has the potential to win more than any other skater. After that, he avoided talking to the press until the end of the competition.

Yuzuru's arrival at Incheon Airport to participate at the 2018 Olympics:

According to his coach, Brian Orser, Yuzuru returned to the ice only six weeks before the Olympics and had to relearn everything and take baby steps to be able to perform again. He was practicing strokes, single and double jumps while watching his training mate and rival, Javier Fernandez, do a full run through of his programs with triples and quads. Yuzuru was able to land triples only three weeks before the Olympics and started landing quads just two weeks before the Olympics.

During the official open practice before the competition, Yuzuru made sure not to reveal his abilities and current condition nor his planned layout. He simply did some strokes and single jumps then left the rink. He chose his layout after studying his rivals and calculating how many points he would potentially need to win. He did his calculations on an app that he developed as part of his studies at the university.

In the short program segment, Yuzuru put out a great performance that was so close to the world record (which he holds). He won first place at this segment. Seeing the results, he felt relieved and assured so he allowed himself to reduce the difficulty of his free program. He was one-step away from winning the Olympics again. He needed to put out another great performance during the free program, and fortunately, that's exactly what he did. He performed a memorable free program filled with emotions, and once he finished, he screamed: "I won. I won!" which was true! He became the first skater to win the Olympics consecutively in 66 years.

Yuzuru's free program at the 2018 Olympics:

The moment that Yuzuru is announced as the winner of the 2018 Olympics:

7- Receiving the gold medal on crutches during Rostelecom Cup 2018:

After winning the Olympics, Yuzuru decided to pay tribute to his role models in figure skating; the Russian legend Evgeny Plushenko and the American Johnny Weir. He chose one of Plushenko's programs as his free program and one of Weir's as his short. He adapted the programs to his own style but still kept some touches from the original ones. Since it was a tribute, he decided to perform his free program in the hometown of his Russian idol and in front of his people. That is why he chose to participate in Rostelecom Cup, which is one of the events of the Grand Prix Series, and is held in Russia. He performed a great short program and everything was going well until he injured his right foot again during the practice before the free program. He was advised to withdraw. However, he absolutely wanted to perform his tribute to the Russian legend, Plushenko, in Russia. He has prepared a lot for this performance and came all the way to Russia to do it so he didn't want all of that to be pointless. He decided to take strong painkillers and perform his free program. He lowered the difficulty of the program and then presented a great performance in front of the Russian crowd that brought him the gold medal. After the performance, he started moving on crutches and admitted that without the painkillers, he wouldn't have been able to skate. He received the gold medal that night on crutches with fans cheering for him and holding up signs that says: "Yuzu we love you from all over the world".

Yuzuru receiving the gold medal on crutches at Rostelecom 2018:

8- Conquering his fears during the season of 2019-2020:

Yuzuru has suffered from a lot of injuries throughout his career. More than once, he thought that he is facing the end of his career because of an injury. Therefore, his main goal during the season of 2019-2020 was to finish the season without injuries. He finished his first two competitions safely and arrived at Japan to participate in NHK, which was his second Grand Prix assignment. Many of his injuries happened in his second GP event and he was conscious about this fact. He was afraid of getting hurt again and was visibly shaking before the beginning of his free program. As a result of his nervousness he missed a combination. However, he pulled himself together and improvised a new combination to recover the points he missed. He thought of the new combination, calculated its points and made sure that it's not repeated all while performing amazingly. Once he came out of the rink, his coach Ghislain gave him a hug and said: "You know what? You conquered your fear!".

Yuzuru shaking before performing his free program at NHK 2019 + full performance:

Yuzuru continued to overcome his fears in the final of the Grand Prix. He was setting in second place after the short program and the gap of points between him and his rival was big. He felt that winning may not be possible this time; nonetheless, he still wanted to do his best and give a respectable performance. He decided to raise the number of quad jumps in his program to five for the first time ever in his career. In addition, he declared that he will bring back the quad Lutz, which is the jump that caused his injury before the 2018 Olympics. It's a jump that he never dared to perform again in competitions since that incident. However, he overcame his fear and performed a flawless quad Lutz during the free program with four other quad jumps in the GPF, challenging not only his fear, but also his stamina that has always been an obstacle for him. He did not win the gold medal, but won his own fight against his fears and limits as well as the hearts and respect of the audience.

Yuzuru performing quad Lutz+ full performance of the free program at GPF2019:

9- Winning the bronze medal in the World Championship 2021 despite an asthma attack and many other hurdles.

During the 2020-2021 season, the whole world was going through struggles because of Corona Virus and Yuzuru was no exception. He had to train on his own in Japan all year long away from his coaches and physical therapist in Canada. He prepared new programs for the season with his choreographers by receiving videos and training accordingly without any supervision. During the season, his hometown was struck by an earthquake twice. The last struck happened right before he traveled to Stockholm to participate in the WC. According to him, the inside of his home was a mess and he couldn't use the train to go to Tokyo and board the plane as planned. As a result, he arrived to Stockholm one day later than planned, thus, he had to change his training plans as well. However, his coach Brian Oreser said that Yuzuru is not the type of athlete who gets phased by such problems and he was right. Yuzuru did perfect run through of his programs during his official practices. He also performed his lively short program very well and won the small gold medal of the segment.

Yuzuru performing his short program at WC 2021:

Yuzuru was all set to win the World Championship for the third time, but something unexpected happened before the free program. He was supposed to start warming up one hour prior the turn of his group (the last group), but he was nowhere to be seen at the venue until it was almost time for the last group to compete. His coach Brian Orser said that he was worried and didn't know where Yuzuru was. He asked the head of the Japanese team but they simply told him: "He is somewhere else". Brian kept on going back and forth between the rink where two of his students were competing and the warm up area where Yuzuru was supposed to be, but Yuzuru did not show up. After Brian's students finished their turn, it was almost time for Yuzuru's group so Brian went to the locker room to see if Yuzuru was there. Usually, Yuzuru would put his skating boots in the locker room before the six-minuets warm up of his group and Brian would come to carry his tissue box, and then they would head to the rink together. However, Brian didn't find Yuzuru in the locker room. Yuzuru was caught on camera sitting on a chair at the warm up area, resting his head on the wall and looking exhausted while taking off his mask impatiently. At that time, the announcement of Keegan Messing's score from the group before the last one, could be heard in the background.

Yuzuru at the warm up area before skating his free program at the WC 2021:

When Brian finally found Yuzuru at the warm up area, he said that he knew something must have happened to him but he didn't ask him about it. Instead, he tried to encourage him by saying energetically: "Let's go!"

Yuzuru showed up at the rink without styling his hair unlike the norm. He made a lot of mistakes in the first part of his free program as if he was not the same person who did a perfect run through one day ago. He said that he suddenly couldn't find his balance but he did try his best. He explained that with every mistake, he tried to at least not fall. Later on, the Russian media reported that the Russian doctor who was accompanying their team at the competition said that Yuzuru has had an asthma attack right before coming to the venue and has asked for his help. Yuzuru never talked to the media about what happened before the free program and why he was late. When he was asked about his asthma he only admitted to feeling a little asthmatic after the free program. Despite all of that, Yuzuru managed to win the bronze medal and contribute in securing three spots to team Japan at the Olympics.

The mystery of what happened to Yuzuru before the free program would have stayed unsolved if it wasn't for the Russian doctor. The reason is that Yuzuru doesn't like to make excuses for himself. He once said in an old interview that he used to make a lot of excuses for himself when he was young but then he realized that real strong skaters don't do that and that he wouldn't learn anything if he keeps on making excuses. He took the renowned Japanese skater Mao Asada as an example when she competed with a bone fracture without uttering a word about it. That must be the reason why he never takes his asthma as an excuse or talks about it.

10- Achieving his childhood dreams one by one:

Since ever Yuzuru was young he declared that he wants to be the Olympic champion and he wants to land a quad Axel. He went on to achieve his Olympic dream in 2014; making history by being the first Japanese male skater to win an Olympic gold medal ever. However, he said that it’s not over yet because the plan in his head is to win the Olympics twice. He kept on improving himself and walking towards his dream while making a lot of sacrifices and overcoming injuries. At the end, he achieved his dream and made history once again by being the first skater in 66 years to win the gold medal at the Olympics consecutively. He then made a statement saying that he feels happy and that this happiness is what he gets in return to the sacrifices he made. After that, he said that he feels freed from the pressure of having to produce results. Thus, he announced that he is going to skate for himself from then on. It was time for him to start focusing on the other dream of his childhood which was the quad Axel. He made it clear that landing it in a competition is his next goal and didn’t allow himself to get swayed by what others are doing or what competitions he is losing. He stayed focused on his goal and is reported to be getting closer to achieving it.

Yuzuru's path has never been covered with flowers. It was hard and painful most of the time but yuzuru always turns the pain into success and fulfillment with his perseverance, becoming an icon of inspiration to many people. We wish him a lot of happiness and success in the future.

Translation of Yuzuru's book is from:

https://bit.ly/3vSGgBz

#yuzuru hanyu #brian orser #javier fernandez

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 4 years

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Wilfords Demands: Raising The Stakes

Summary- 6.2k Curtis Everett x You. Its the day after the disaster of the trains New Years party. Curtis processes some of what caused his out lash towards you as well as start to prepare for the up coming tournament against Wilford’s Prized Champions. You are once more checked to see if you have become pregnant and the doctor decides to increase your chances.

Warnings- results of the readers punishment, some language, use of needle, mentions of pregnancy.

A/N- Its been months since I have updated this series. It is a darker series with a darker version of Curtis. But we all know that I have a severe soft spot. Its only so dark. I am who I am.

Chapter 2 / Wilfords Demands Masterlist

Curtis woke to you sniffling next to him, arching a bit and feeling he was still buried in you after he filled you with his cock in anger last night. You had your arms over your face trying to stifle the soft sniffles, and he grasped your hip in a firm hold, feathering his thumb over fading bruises on your hips. His bruises, you were his girl after all and the only one allowed to put them on you. Finally he easily slipped from you, and once he shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, you drew your legs up in a fetal way. Curtis looked over his shoulder and clenched his jaw seeing you pull away from him. Maybe he let his anger get the best of him, Grey hinting that he wanted you and was willing to take you by any means necessary really helped fuel his temper last night after seeing his hands on your hips. Curtis had taken it out on you, and not the one who deserved it. A sorry wouldn't fix the trust he had taken from you, and he already regretted it now that it was morning. He would have to work on gaining it back if he wanted to live in peace with you.

Mulling over this new issue, he moved to a stand, and went to the bathroom to shower. Hoping that giving you some space would ease you a bit, give you a chance to pull yourself together. Stepping in the hot water, he took his time. Recalling things that happened from the night before, he was going to have to step up his training to beat Grey. Because Grey was good, agile, and had speed on his side where Curtis was more solidly built. He was fast and agile, but he needed to be prime to beat Grey. His hand brushed over his short hair to swipe the soap out and turned off the water quickly. Stepping out to dry off, he poked his head out to see you had moved to a sit, finding one of his oversized long sleeves to pull over and cover yourself up. Your shyness made him smile a bit. He was well familiar with how you would downcast your eyes and peek at him while he was going about his business when you were reading in the chair. Whenever he would glance, you would drop your head back into the book like you weren't doing anything. Even now you would glance at the door, and he pulled back in to wrap a towel around his waist, before stepping out. Sure enough your gaze dropped back to your hands, picking at the thread of the sweater you were wrapped in. Although it occurred to him that this time you were more scared of him then so much shyness over your naked body.

Moving to the dresser built in the wall, he pulled out some clothes, and glanced at you. Knowing you wouldn't move from the spot till he said something. Straightening up, he nodded to the bathroom. “Go get yourself cleaned up.” his voice rough and you were quick, darting past him into the bathroom and the door shut. Letting the air rush out of his lungs as he rushed himself to dress. He had a meeting with Wilford after his slotted time in the gym and wanted to get it over with. Soon he was out the door, leaving you alone to finish up. Sure the door was locked behind him, he glowered at one of Grey’s friends lurking around, snapping out. “What the fuck you doing at this end of the car?”

The man pulled up short, looking at Curtis nervously before remarking. “None of your damn business.”

Curtis sneered as he pushed Grey's friend against the train's wall, tilting his head as he looked the slightly smaller man up and down. “It's my business when you're sniffing around my door. Tell Grey to mind his own girl.” Curtis was pushed back, but the man was making a quick retreat to get out of the car. Curtis watched as the door swished open for him to pass through. Once he was satisfied he wouldn't be coming right back, he turned the opposite way, heading towards the train's training car.

You were undressing when you heard the main door open, and then the lock click, breathing out a sigh of relief knowing Curtis was gone. You were so sore from the night before. Your ass stun and when you turned to look in the mirror, you could see the hand prints of welts on your ass. The water was going to make them sting, you just knew it. And your core throbbed from where he insisted you sleep together last night. Up until last night everything had been minor. This was the hardest he treated you. All because you let another man touch you. Not intentionally, but that didn't seem to matter where this person was concerned. You felt your throat close up just thinking about the rage in his eyes when he found you. When had this become your life?

Going to start the shower, you slipped in muffling a cry at the stings the water pelted on your ass until it went numb and you finally let yourself relax. The heat and steam relaxed those sore muscles, and you let the water just cascade over you for a good 20 minutes before you went to wash your hair.

You could feel yourself starting to break at your situation. All you wanted now was to go back. The warm clothes and food Curtis brought you didn't make it any better. You were so completely under his control, that you couldn't stop him when he wanted you. That was so overwhelming that you ended up sinking to the bottom of the tub, curling up your legs and ignoring the pain as you let the sobs wrack your body, feeling so hopeless in your situation. Time passed, and the water started to lose its intense heat. Pulling yourself up, you started scrubbing and washing yourself quickly before it turned icy cold.

There was nothing you hated more than ice cold water chilling you. You got out and grabbed your towel to dry off, not looking in the mirror again since you didn't want to see the redness on your ass or some of the bruises that got left behind.

Looking out to make sure you were still alone, you went to look for clothes that Curtis had brought to you. Grabbing leggings and a heavy sweater of Curtis’s, it swallowed you, hanging loosely to one side as it almost exposed a shoulder. You sought out some food, and found an apple in the small refrigerator tucked near the bed. You debated going back to laying down, but that seemed almost like an invitation to get fucked once more. Instead you curled into the nearby chair, picking up the book to try and lose yourself in the story once more, listening for when the door would unlock and your personal demon would return.

Curtis reached the training ring, leaning against the edge to watch what would be part of his competition. So far they didn't worry him, their dancing movements around each other stumbling, their jabs connecting against flesh was weak, the opponent grunting but nothing more. He took note of which sides they favored, and as always, it was to the right they swung. Means he would work harder on his left hand strike.

Looking beyond the fighting men, he could see Grey on the other side, using a towel to dry his face and the ripple of muscles under his tattooed back was still taunt. He must have just gotten out of the ring himself and when Curtis scanned the mat, he could see that there was blood in one corner. Must have been the other guy. One of the help came over, a towel draped over his arm, water and wrap for Curtis’s hands. When Curtis saw it was Edgar, he softened a bit from his usual demeanor. The boy was 17, and hoping to work his way into the ring one day, fight for honor and Wilfords gifts to the winner. If he would survive getting that far, let alone survive the ring itself.

Not many did, Curtis bore the scars littered across his body and almost lost a time or two. His opponent had taken mercy on him, choosing not to kill him that time. Curtis had not forgotten being spared, but it was a kill or be killed lifestyle. He knew next time they might not show mercy on him, not if Wilford demanded a sacrifice. He learned from those lessons, worked tirelessly when he wasn't meeting Wilford’s other demands.

Edgar sat on the bench next to Curtis and took his hand, working on wrapping it around his wrist and up towards his knuckles. “Grey just finished.”

Curtis grunted in acknowledgment while Edgar continued. “They had to take Mikey to the hospital wing, Grey shattered his nose and probably half of the other bones in his face.”

Shaking his head and glancing at Grey leaving the gym, flexing his hands as if he's sore while smirking at Curtis, Curtis turned back to look at Edgar. “Well I hope your not fucking stupid enough to practice with him Edgar, or else you will be leaving the ring looking like him.”

“Oh I won't, I will take my name off the list first Curtis. This will be the fifth person he's done this to in training and no one is putting a stop to him.” Edgar finished his other hand and added the tape to keep it all secure. “Nah man, my kronole is on you. You win, I might get enough to live comfortably for a while.”

Curtis shook his head and arched his brow. “And if I lose the tournament?”

“Then I'm fucked, might have to move back to the tail end so they don't find me.”

Planting his hands to his knees to raise, Curtis just shook his head. “Putting a lot of faith in me to win.”

“Well…” Edgar followed along with Curtis to the punching bags so he could warm up, moving to hold onto it while Curtis started with some easy punches of his hand, loosening his muscles and warming up before he went into the ring. “... You kind of have more at stake now? Grey’s request if he wins is to take your new girl should he win.” Curtis paused with his hands raised near his face, nostrils flaring and jaw clenching at the thought of Grey laying his hands on you again. Anger rolled through him at the idea of it and next time his fist flew out, it moved the bag and Edgar backwards a bit before Edgar planted his feet.

“Over my dead body.” Curtis growled and Edgar peeked around the sandbag, wincing.

“I-uh- think that's what he is hoping.”

Shrugging, Curtis went back to punching the bag till sweat rolled down his back and along the sides of his face. Edgar threw him a towel, and after a quick swipe to his face, he moved on to other exercises. First jumping rope, moving light on his feet, onto sit ups, push ups and burpees. Once he went through his regular routine, breathing heavily, Edgar passed him his water and Curtis took a quick break to catch his breath. Even after using the towel, sweat still rolled down his body but he had one more thing to do before he could go meet with Wilford for his monthly demands. Go in the ring. “You ready?” Curtis asked Edgar, and he nodded while grabbing the padding for his hands.

Slipping under the ropes, Curtis let calmness wash over him. This was one of the few places he felt in control. The mat was slightly spongy under the balls of his feet, and he rolled his head back and forth to loosen up. This was his domain, there were two things he was good at. Fucking and fighting.

Edgar stepped in front of him to hold up his hands, giving a nod he was ready. The two men have built up a relationship over the years, from that first time Edgar as a scrawny preteen approaching Curtis.

Curtis let a bit of a smile slip at the thought of the kid, scrawny as he was back then, he insisted he could keep up with them, and Curtis relented. Allowing him to train with him, he became his shadow, always right there with anything Curtis might need. Many a day he showed him moves that he learned over time, giving him some pointers. Edgar at first was awkward, but over the years muscles built up and he became fluid agility on his feet. He still had learning to do, but he was noticed already by Wilford. As long as he could stay alive, Curtis suspected Wilford would keep Edgar.

“Come on Everett, best shot. You’ve been slacking lately.” Edgar kept his hands raised, and Curtis bounced on his feet before lashing his fist out, bullseye right in Edgar's palm.

“Weak old man! Shit the tailenders hit harder than you.” Edgar edged him on, and Curtis responded with a right-left, right-left. Edgar nodded with a grin.

“That's better, kinda.” He kept going and Curtis rolled his eyes before hitting him hard enough to back him up a few steps and his leg swung out in a kick for his foot to connect with the glove, backing him up towards the corner.

“You gonna keep running your mouth, you little shit?” Curtis snapped out and Edgar laughed, bracing for another hit. After a while, Curtis backed off, going to collect his bottle of water and squirted himself in his red strained face and into his mouth to swallow. Edgar had peeled off the protective gloves and stuck them under his arm to massage at his hands as he ducked out of the ring, knowing Curtis was done for the day.

“Same time in a couple days?” Edgar asked and Curtis went over to the board, looking at the time slots available. Of course he could see Grey had every day for the next couple weeks lined up.

“Same time tomorrow, I have to step it up for the tournament.” Taking the marker hanging nearby, he added his name to several days, and Edgar blew out a breath of disbelief but didn't complain about it.

“Okay, I will see you here tomorrow.” Edgar reached up and marked and E underneath all of Curtis’s signatures. Saying their goodbyes, Edgar split off to his car and Curtis went in to take a quick rinse off. After he had redressed, he left the gym and started to go through the cars towards the ending and Wilford to do his monthly meeting with Wilford. The guards looked Curtis up and down a moment, which he sneered at them in return. One made a threatening step towards him, but he didn't flinch, used to them trying to intimidate him.

“Tell Wilford I’m here for my appointment.” Curtis said once the guard backed off, and he turned away from them to lean on the railing, looking down at the main floor where he had been just the night before. There was still partiers, high as fuck on the kronole littered all over the booths. Orgies happening among groups of people, which at this point was just everyday with Curtis. But his eyes wandered from that, thinking about you instead of the groups of people wiggling all over each other. Those sweet mewls that he had to work out of you. How you tried so hard not to give into the pleasure he brought you, but eventually you wouldn't be able to fight it anymore, and when you would come for him, it was a beautiful thing.

Sometimes it made him lose control, feeling you tighten around him, and your arms circling around him to hide your face against his broad chest while he was pounding into you chasing his ending.

Fuck since you were delivered to him, he hadn't sought out the sensation of getting lost in a multitude of endless people, high as fuck on the kronole and blanking out on how he reached his orgasms, just riding that heightened pleasure till he untwisted out of the group. Even when he was assigned a woman to impregnate, that was just a job he had to do.

You though, since he has kept you all these weeks, it was different, or starting to feel different anyways. Maybe that was why he was so mad that Grey took notice of you? The creak of the door distracted him from his thoughts, and the guards stepped away so he could pass.

Stepping into the next car, the door slammed shut and he went through the high walk above the gears. Reaching the giant W, that door was open enough for him to slip through to see Wilford standing with a scrawny boy and measuring tape. Claude nearby, watching with a nod occasionally when Wilford said something.

“They just get scrawnier and scrawnier every time you bring me a new one Claude. Would think we were not feeding them.” Wilford sighed as he dropped the kids arm and dropped his hands to his waist. Curtis listened to the conversation now, and raised an incredulous brow at Wilfords comment. When you had come to him, you were delicate, weak in his hands. He had to be very careful that first time. Now with proper care, you were finally starting to gain weight. Fuller in his hold. You still bruised easily. “Alright Claude, get him cleaned up, hair cut, some workable clothes, good meal, and a delousing. He's crawling in them.” Wilford winced as he brushed his hands together like he was wiping away the child's filth.

“You got an important job son.” Wilford looked down at the boy, giving him a wide smile of flashing white teeth. If Curtis had to describe it, it was like the villains in the movies he would watch as a kid. Fake and vile looking. Even the boy cowered in fear. “Help me keep the engine running. Now you go with dearest Claude, and if you behave, she will give you a cookie.”

Claude was quick to snatch the child away, and Curtis watched with sympathy knowing the child wouldn't last long working for Wilford. The boy’s eyes turned up to Curtis in fear while the two passed, making Curtis have to look away, leaving the boy to Claude slipping him out and the door shut.

“Curtis! Already been a month?” Wilford approached him, a gleeful grin on his face as he clasped Curtis’s upper arms, giving a squeeze before letting him go. “I heard you've been in the gym quite often.” He moved aside to let Curtis come further into the room and settle at his little table. Wilford went about making drinks for the two of them. “So tell me son, how's the last month been? How’s your girl been treating you? Is she pregnant yet?” Wilford shot the questions at him, but Curtis knew the one he wanted to know, because that was the only reason Wilford put you with him.

“No, she isn't pregnant yet.” Curtis said sharply and Wilford took a pitcher and poured two glasses of crystal clear water, a rarity on Snowpiercer. Setting it in front of Curtis, he settled across from him and sighed.

“I'm getting a tad impatient Curtis. You’ve had her for several weeks now.”

Curtis pushed the water away without interest. “Well she wasn't healthy like the typical women I’m given Wilford. It's probably going to take a while.” he leaned back and watched as Wilford sighed with exasperation.

“You know that is pure snow melted. Not that filtered stuff through the system. You should really try it.” Wilford made a point to pick up his glass and sip from it. “I suppose you are right, just like that child. I don't really know what else to do with the tail enders. Maybe cull their group again like I did with McGregors Riots. They are just fucking to much, and filling up that space. No wonder they are all sick all the time.” Wilford sighed as if in a predicament, and he turned his attention back to Curtis. “Grey told me this morning that you had to discipline your girl?”

Curtis’s jaw clenched, wanting to snap Grey’s neck. He should have known Grey would run his mouth.

“Yesterday at the New Year’s Day gathering. I thought Y/N would be ready for a partial evening with others. She might have gotten a bit overwhelmed at it all, but she won't be making the same mistake again.” Curtis informed Wilford, a bite to his voice. Wilford chose to ignore it, and continued. “Mmh, from what Grey told me, she was and I quote. ‘A sassy bitch who Curtis was much too easy on.’ Then he proceeded to inform me that he would be willing to take her off your hands, seeing as she must be too much for you to handle.” Wilford's icy blue eyes twinkled a bit under bushy brows, well aware how his two favorite men he owned were always clashing. “Is that so Curtis? Can you not control your girl? I watched the video from last night. I have to say she was letting Grey put his hands on what is supposed to belong to you. And I have never known you be willing to share your partner before.”

“I said I handled it.” Curtis hissed out, his eyes narrowing at Wilford. “She thought it was me when she was dancing and Grey took advantage of her innocence. Trust me, she wont forget her lesson in paying attention.” half snarling out, now clearly pissed at having himself questioned if he could handle you. Curtis wouldn't let them take you because of Grey running his mouth.

“Okay Curtis, no need to get all up in a huff. Grey was just showing some concern for how you were managing her.” Wilford said rather quickly, and Curtis found it hard to keep his mouth shut about Wilford’s other prized breeder. The anger in Grey rippled through his body. Recalling how his hands were all over you, feeling you in a way he had no right to. Sliding on your hips, gracing your curves that all belonged to Curtis. His dark eyes looking down at you while you were blissfully unaware of the predator ready to steal you away. It made Curtis want to rage in a fury.

“I'm managing her just fine Wilford. Now can we finish up please?” Curtis reached into his jacket to pull out a list when Wilford paused him.

“Be patient Son, we still have the matter of the tournament to discuss. Do you know what you're asking for if you win?” Wilford arched his brow in question, and Curtis gave a sharp nod. In the past he always asked for the same thing. Time away from Wilford's program. Not having a woman in his charge for at least a month. This time that wasn't what he was going to ask for. He honestly didn't know what he wanted this time. He just knew you had changed it for him.

“Well I will tell you that Grey and Chaz asked for your woman specifically.” Wilford informed him, cocking his head to see Curtis’s reaction.

His jaw snapped shut, not worrying about Chaz. If he had to kill him to keep him from gaining his request, he could easily. But Grey, well he knew that would be harder.

“Right now you and Grey are closely matched Curtis. In fact your actually edged up in favor with the rest of the front end. I’m even putting a hefty bet on you as well.” Wilford leaned forward, eyeing Curtis like a prize. “Don't disappoint me.”

“You have nothing to worry about Wilford.” Curtis slipped his list across the table, and Wilford looked down, his brows lifted curiously while picking it up and reading through it. Giving a sigh like it was an inconvenience, he picked up his phone.

“Yes, I need the following things brought to the engine.” He droned on, and Curtis listened while remaining quiet, sure that Wilford requested for everything he had asked for.

You were curled up in the chair by the window, the book resting on your lap, and flipping to the page you had left off the day before. Your fingers traced over the words, thinking about Curtis dropping it in your lap last time he had come back from Wilfords. You hadn’t asked for it, but he seemed to notice you had gone through his small bookshelf already to keep entertained. It was the first real nice gesture from him. You had thanked him softly, and he just muttered that it wasn’t a big deal.

Your gaze lifted from the book to stare outside, letting your mind wander about your predicament with him. You wanted to go back to the tail end, to your friends. But he had assured you last night that there was no going back, you wouldn't ever get to return. So far, being here hasn't actually been all that terrible although you hated what you had become. You didn't want to enjoy being with Curtis, and most of the time you tried to fight back by trying to not enjoy it. But your body gave in every time under his touch. So you didn't even get the right to be able to say him fucking you was all that terrible. Did you choose it? No never. You have not initiated it once, and he had to force you to submit to him.

He was a vile man, you told yourself. Feeling shame burn your chest. You knew that wasn't the case. Curtis tried in his own way. He was forced into this, and used in this disgusting way. In fact from what you understood, he had come from the tail end to at first. Forced into this prostitution by Wilford. Leaning your forehead against the glass, a few tears slipped from your eyes. You still were scared of Curtis, he had a forceful power that could make you do whatever he wanted. Your fingers clenched around the book, wrinkling the pages in frustration.

Breathing out, you smoothed your books pages back again when the door swooshed open, and you looked up to see Claude snap into the room. “Come on Y/N, your appointment time.” She looked down at her clipboard, and then her wrist at a watch. “Hurry it up, the doctor doesn't have all day.”

You were quick to comply, grabbing a pair of pants and slipping them on, choosing to keep the over sized shirt of Curtis’s. Holding the door open, she ushered you out and steered you to another cart that was filled with all sorts of different compartments. You by passed front enders getting hair cuts, a dentist cleaning teeth, a seamstress measuring someone and Claude forced you into a doctors section.

The doctor looked over his shoulder at you and Claude. “Up on the table, I don't need you in here.” he waved Claude to leave. As always Claude gave you a warning look not to cause trouble and she slipped out of the room, closing the door behind her. “So, Y/N, how have you been feeling?” The Doctor started scrubbing his hands with strong chemical smelling soap. You picked at your shirt.

“Fine Dr. Fin.” you responded and he picked up a chart, looking through it.

“Ahhh were checking to see if Number 13 has impregnated you.”

“Curtis…” You looked away as you slipped off the table and worked your pants off. You hated when the Doctor referred to him as a number, like he wasn't a person but some kind of experiment for them to toy with.

“Yes Curtis.” Dr. Fin said absently as he waited for you to slip back onto the table and place your feet into the stirrups. “Have you two been together frequently since I have last seen you?”

You gave a nod while pulling yourself back onto the table and slipped your feet into the stirrups. Closing your eyes and tilting your bed, you tried to relax while the doctor checked you.

“Alright, well nothing yet.” He pulled away and motioned you to put your clothing back on, which you eagerly did. “But I have something that may just help with it.” He reached in the cabinet above his head and pulled out a syringe and needle top. You eyed the syringe in his hand warily.

“What is it?” you backed up a bit, trying to put some distance between the two of you while he next took out a bottle, and plunged the needle in it, drawing the liquid out and clearing the bubbles from it with a slight shake before turning to look at you.

“Nothing you need to worry about Y/N, now come over here and hold out your arm.” A shake of your head made Dr. Fin frown and narrow his eyes at you. “Come on child. Don't make me call in someone.”

You still refused to approach him, which you knew was pointless. That you were going to end up with the shot, whatever it was. But you didn’t have to make it easy for them. Dr. Fin sighed with impatience and hit a button under the table. “Just making this harder than it needs to be.” he tried approaching you again and you went around the table. Bolting to the door was an option now, although you were sure it would be locked to you. It didn't matter, because that's when an armed guard came through and assessed the situation. “You tailenders never learn do you?”

He grabbed you and pinned you against the table, you struggled, screamed trying to wrench away. The guard shook you viciously and used his weight to crush your chest into the medical chair, punching out the air from your lungs.

“I need her arm.” Dr. FIn said calmly, and you struggled with that too. Till you were knocked upside the temple, pain blossoming and black stars dazing your vision. “Wonder if 13 has this many problems with her.”

Your lungs burned and things in your vision went into a haze while your arm was stretched out, the guard above you snickered while you gave a few more weak attempts to pull free. “Not too bad from what we can see. Once in a while, but he is easily able to subdue her. Although Wilfords getting pissed that she isn't pregnant yet.”

You felt the sharp sting in your arm, trying to rip your arm away but there seems to be a firm hold on it. The burn of the medicine made you gasp in pain. But it was fading out, everything was fading out and then back in sharper. A fire raced your veins and you could feel it curl into your bloodstream wickedly. “W-what did you do to me?” Beads of sweat popped on your brow. The Doctor backed away and dispensed the needle away while the guard grasped your wrists to wrench your hands behind you.

“Y/N is ready now to be returned to Curtis. It's fast acting and won’t last long, so be quick to return her.” Dr. Fin said while ignoring you and with that you were wrenched from the room. Stumbling in the guards hold, you could feel your entire body itch, the weight of your clothing was suffocating. You kept gasping, trying to draw in some kind of air. You kept fighting his hold, sobbing as your legs shook and fell to your knees, while wiggling around. “I can’t! Somethings wrong.”

“There ain't nothing wrong with you bitch, get up.” He yanked on your wrists, making you scream when the pain at the unnatural angle twisted your arms till you thought they were going to snap. Hauling you back to your feet, he finally got to Curtis’s door. It opened to Curtis yanking off his sweaty work out shirt and he pushed you into the room. Once more you sprawled against the floor, similar to last night. Curtis was reaching down, a look of surprise in his eyes as he snapped at the guard.

“What the fuck is wrong with you people?!”

“She’s not my problem any longer, take care of her.” And the door was slammed shut, you curled in on yourself with a gasp as the heat took over again, and Curtis’s hands dug under your arms to lift you. Your hands pushed him away for a moment, and you started to paw at your clothing, tugging at them to get them off.

“Curtis, oh god get them off, get them off.” you said in a panic, and he once more picked you up and set you on the bed. Feeling him roll your shirt up and draw it over your head, he grabbed your shoulders to make you focus on him.

“Y/N! What did they do to you?” His eyes searched yours, dazed as they looked back at him. That heat settled now in your core, and you could feel your thighs trying to clench when a rush of arousal made your pants start to cling to you. You just needed him, right this second. Launching yourself at him, your lips pressing to his and biting at it, and your arms circled to his sweaty back, digging into the muscles.

“Curtis right now, fuck me.” you whined against his lips and pressed your chest into his, grinding your slick core against his groin. Curtis twisted you back onto the bed, his hand pressing against your neck to keep you pinned down while he leaned over you.

“Y/N, fuck your burning up. What did they do to you?” It was hard to miss the sweat running down your face and neck, droplets forming along your collarbone, and your breasts heaving as you took deep breaths, your hands wrapping around his wrist as you pressed yourself against him.

“Curtis please…” you tilted your head back and hissed as it all flooded you again, and Curtis gave you a slight shake.

“Answer me Y/N, what did they do to you?” He said firmly and you cried out in frustration.

“A shot! They pinned me down and injected something.” tears formed in the corner of your eyes, your pussy clenching needing to be filled, and you could feel him hard against you, but Curtis wasnt giving it.

“Those fuckers.” He snarled once you finally told him, and he pulled back to yank your pants and panties off, pulling you up to rip your bra off over your head. “We got to get you in the shower before you burn up.” You didn't care, were barely comprehending now his words. Locking your arms around his neck as you bite his shoulder to hiss against him while rubbing your sweat slick body to his, making him groan when your legs locked around his waist and your pussy slicked against his abs. Curtis could smell your arousal now, leaving him fucking aching and throbbing. The medicine they gave you heightened everything in you and you felt like you were loosing your mind. He slammed you into the wall beside the bathroom door, wrenching your head back to kiss you harshly, you met him back for the first time ever eagerly. There were no tentative touches and whines from you, no hesitation. You clawed at his back and rolled your hips against him, looking for more.

Tongues speared each other's mouth and teeth clashed, it was like you couldn't sate the hunger you had for this man now. You tipped away from that kiss, going down his jawline, and sucking on his earlobe.

“Fucking hell Y/N…” The solid muscle of Curtis crushed against you before pushing you two into the bathroom, he yanked your hot to the touch body off him, and pushed you into the shower to turn on the cold ice water. Slamming the glass door shut to keep you in there, he worked his sweats off his lean hips as fast as he could. Looking up, he could see your hand prints against the glass, pressing your forehead against the glass.

“Curtis, let me out.” you rolled your body into the glass, and he groaned seeing your skin clearing the sudden fogginess of the glass, your nipples pebbled in the icy cold water, and droplets running down your body while your eyes shined bright at him before you pulled away and the glass turned fogged again to just see your silhouette.

“Step back Y/N, i'm coming in.” Opening the door, you backed up, looking up at him from lowered lashes, water raining down on you to stream down your curves in drinkable streams. Stepping in, the glass door swung close again, your skin pebbled from the cold, but you paid no attention to the ice cold on the outside, but the burning on the inside. Taking in Curtis standing naked in front of you. You couldn't stop yourself, bringing your hand up to grasp the back of his neck, your arched to your tiptoes to close the gap, and dragging him into a kiss, his hands pushing you back against the wall, and his possessive touch squeezed your ass cheeks, making you want him in a way you never wanted before.

#wilfords demands #curtis everett #curtis everett x you #snowpiercer #curtis everett fic #snowpiercer fic #amber writes #sweater writes #tw: needle

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xxisxxisxxis · 3 years

Text

Gateway Drug | Part Ninety-One [PT. 1]

A/N: Part 2 coming tomorrow.

Words:3k

Warning(s): explicit language, mentions of drug abuse, mentions of miscarriage, sexual situations

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NIKKI

I stare down at the small, black and white pictures of seemingly nothing except a tiny, tiny little blob, except for one picture which is marked with “4 months” on the back, February 14th, 1986, in white marker in Vivs’s handwriting, one picture out of seven, each with dates…she doesn’t say a word to me, and she didn’t before she handed them over. She just chunked them in my lap and went from there.

I don’t know what to ask, because I don’t know what to say.

“Are these…?” I finally get out, looking at her.

She’s got tears in her eyes, and it slowly starts sinking in.

These are fucking kids--well, tiny little embryo kids, or whatever.

“These are your’s?” I ask next and she nods.

When the hell was she ever fucking pregnant?

I check the dates again…

1983.

1984.

1985.

1986.

1986...the back of it says “twins.”

“Where was I when all of this was happening?” I ask her, and she licks her lips and breathes out.

“I don’t know, Nikki, where were you?” She replies lowly.

I look at her for a moment, trying to decide if she’s serious or not.

Then she digs in her purse and pulls out a paper, unfolding it before going through the list of dates assigned to each ultrasound image, reciting to me--in my own words from diaries--my whereabouts around the time she lost each one.

I take it that she’s already skimmed through a diary or two already.

I get angrier and angrier with each line, shaking by the time she starts on, “1986--you were unconscious while me and Andy McCoy were trying to resuscit--”

I throw the pictures and they all split from each other and scatter around her, cutting her short.

“None of this is my fault, Vivian!” I scream at her, my heart feeling as though it’s rotting behind my ribs. “I didn’t fucking know!”

“How could you fucking know when you were so damn hig--”

“You came home in ‘83, from that appointment and told me it was a false-positive test and you had just gained a little weight. I wasn’t on smack in July of 1983. In fact, I went a little while on just Tylenol and beer while I was tampering off my heavy meds the doctor prescribed for my shoulder. So you could have fucking told me then what the fuck was happening, instead of shutting down and shutting me out for three goddamn months!” I’m crying without realizing it until hot tears prick down my cheeks, my skin uncomfortable as my nerves singe from my boiling blood. “I loved you, I had just married you for Christ sake--I was happy and excited to be at that point with you and you fucking left me for three months! You’d barely let me touch you, you wouldn’t come out of our room, you wouldn’t wanna go out, I’d sleep on the fucking couch or crash at Robbins or Tommy’s because you’d tell me you just wanted to be alone, and all along I thought it was my fault because I went to that fucking party with Tommy instead of staying with you the night of our wedding and you were just making me pay...and then when you were put on medication I thought it was my fault, too, because I thought you’d figured out I was tampering with smack, and I just…” I’m up and pacing, hands in my hair…

Amber doesn’t say a word.

I think Viv broke her, too, because she looks like she’s trying to find the right thing to say.

Maybe she’s hoping we can talk this one out on our own.

But I don’t want to talk anything out.

Not right now.

“I didn’t tell you about them because I was scared you would cope with the pain the same way you’d coped with pain for years. I was afraid you’d drink and drug yourself and leave me to deal with it by myself, and I didn’t want to put that on you, so I just dealt with it myself.” Vivian admits, her voice cracking.

“Vivian, you haven’t dealt with it, though.” Amber quietly interjects, softly. “You haven’t dealt with it. You haven’t allowed yourself to heal.”

“When were you going to tell me about this?” I shakily ask, trying to swallow down the lump in my throat.

“When you died.” She says next, honestly, her tone a dead giveaway that it’s not something she’s proud of, but it’s the truth. “I was just gonna bury the pictures with you, just in case you had random kids coming up to you in the next life, you’d know who they were, I guess.”

I feel sick to my stomach at the confession, my whole body repulsed with the fact that she’s managed to hide this the past four years.

“Nikki, if you need to take a break, we can,” Amber assures me.

I’m getting the fuck out of there as fast as I can, just desperate to get some air that Vivian isn’t breathing her demoness presence into, and the second I get free, I'm puking my guts up in the hallway.

I know I had a reason to be angry with her, she hid that from me, like I'd hid so much from her. She thought she was protecting me, though, and I just didn't want her to leave me because I was a pussy and a piece of shit--and I knew it.

I was more pissed at myself, though, because I knew I'd put her in the position to feel like she couldn't come to me and tell me she was pregnant, let alone had lost it, even before I was on smack.

She knew how I handled shit--either drink, do whatever drug was accessible, or both.

When heroin and crack entered the picture, that just cemented her will not to tell me about it.

I think the biggest elephant in the room, though, despite her being pregnant with Duff's baby at that point, and me and my thing with Vanity and all the other women, and her hidden pregnancies, was the fact she never wanted to get married to me that fast, and I knew it.

I knew it the day we got married that she didn't really want to, she was just trying to make me happy, and I fucking let her do it because I was so terrified that I was going to lose her if I didn't go as far as I could to secure her to me.

The amount of unnecessary bullshit she could've bypassed had I just taken a step back and told her we didn't have to get married if she didn't want to...I often times think it would've saved her a lot of heartbreak. We could've broken up when shit hit the fan with smack in '84, I still would've lived through my bad OD in '87, probably, and we could've gotten back together when I cleaned my shit up--that is if she would've waited for me...and that's why I didn't let up. Because "if she waited" wasn't good enough. I didn't want "if."

I wanted her.

So I married her, knowing she didn't want to, and instead of proving her wrong and giving her a relationship to question why she ever second guessed vowing an eternity together with me, I put her through hell, treated her like shit, abused her, endured her abuse, wasted each other's time, hurt each other, ruined each other more and more than what we were when we got into the relationship.

And that was my first indiscretion against her.

Marrying her knowing she wasn't ready.

By the time I finish puking, I'm leaning against the wall, taking deep breaths, hearing Vivian crying, still in Amber's office.

I squeeze my eyes closed, my palms roughly wipe my stray tears.

Despite being sober, the little fuck that is Sikki is trying to claw out of the box I've put him in for over a month, now.

Just the faintest, "leave her," echoes in my mind.

"Fuck you." I audibly tell him.

"She never wanted to be with you in the first place. Why do you think her body refused to carry your fucking kids? Because she hates you so much that it'd be an abomination to have your little hell rats."

"Fuck off." I argue, again.

"And just think about it. The timing of this one she's got now...she was getting her brains screwed backwards right next door to you while you were keeling over. It was like she knew what was about to happen and she was celebrating the fact she wouldn't have to fucking deal with your shit ever again." He taunts, getting more and more of his scraggly hand out of the box, the lid cracking open to reveal his white, sallow skin and dark eyes.

"Fuck off." I gritt out once more.

"What's wrong? You don't think she'd do that? After all the times you've admitted she's an evil bitch from the pit fires of hell? Because I think she'd do it. In fact, I bet she'd stare your overdosing carcass in the eyes, screaming out his name in ecstasy, while dripping cum at the mere fact you were dying."

I slam the lid of the box back down, crushing his boney, track riddled fingers, making him curse me.

I refuse to listen to his bullshit anymore.

Vivian loves me. She wants to be with me. She'd be gone by now if she didn't, and I wouldn't blame her.

1 9 8 1

"Ummm…" I trail off, watching her closely, lickikg my lips, my hand grabbing at the curve of her hip over the comforter she's got pulled up to her chest, her head in the crook of my elbow, looking up at me, awaiting my answer. "...I don't know." I say, honestly.

"As theological as you are and you can't tell me whether or not you think Aliens are real?" She asks and I roll my eyes.

"I don't know, miss honor roll, you tell me." I counter and she grins.

"I think the universe is too big for it to just be us." She informs me.

"Ah, says the one who also believes a heaven and a God exists within the same wide range of universe." I reply and she hits my bare chest with the back of her hand, gently.

"Shut up." She says, shaking her head a little. "Is it not reasonable to think there's more than just us?"

I think about it for a moment.

"I wouldn't be surprised if aliens are real, I wouldn't be surprised if they weren't." I admit, rubbing my eye for a second.

"What about God?" She asks next and I try not to laugh in her face.

"I'm almost one hundred percent sure that God doesn't exist." I state.

"How do you know?" She says, blinking emerald greens at me, as if what I'm about to say about her imaginary friend she's been brainwashed into believing in, is going to make or break her.

"I'm not sure, baby, I just think...fine, tell you what, I wouldn't be surprised if God were real, and I wouldn't be surprised if he weren't real." I give her the benefit of the doubt.

"I'd be surprised if he weren't." She tells me.

"Yeah? Well, how do you know he is real?" I question her, next, a teasing smile on my lips.

"I don't know, you can't see him or hear his voice audibly, but you can feel him." She explains the best she can and I raise my brows.

"You can feel God?"

"Well, yeah." She replies, her finger tracing along the few bits of chest hair I've got and I lick my lips for a second before leaning down, kissing her.

"What about now?" I ask, grinning as my hand pushes away at the covers over her to run against the smooth skin of her thigh and she smiles just a little before pressing her lips to mine, one of her hands threading in my hair with her other arm snakes around me, pulling me on top of her and I chuckle lowly, nestling between her legs while we get hot and heavy with our tongues and teeth.

Both of us let out satisfied breaths when I slide into her, her eyes fluttering closed, brows furrowed slightly, head leaning back as her nails bite into my arms.

I pat myself on the back and trail hot, wet, sloppy kisses along her clavicle before pulling out of her again, a little shudder going up my back from the tight, soaking heat between her legs.

When I start building a slow but hard rhythm, her legs are locking at the base of my spine, her arms hugging at my back, pulling me to her as, "Nikki," slips from her lips.

"What about now?" I ask in her ear as I force myself as deep into her as her body will let me, and she whimpers out, "yes."

A sadistic little pat to my ego causes a pull at my lips, my hand wrapping around her throat as I stare down at her, her nails clawing down my back, tears in her eyes as I thrust back into her…

I kiss at her lips, her cheek, her jaw, moving my hand from her throat to kiss her neck and I swear I hear the faintest, barely inaudible whisper of, "I love you," but decide I'm just hearing things...

Present

I squeeze my eyes shut, the smell of my puke wafting in my face, making me take several steps back to catch my breath.

It's hard to swallow the fact that I really let myself be convinced for so long that I'd let her fuck my life up, to the extent of blaming her for my life actually being fucked up.

"Fuck." I curse at myself, raking my hands down my face.

How the fuck am I going to make this right with her?

How the fuck is she going to make this right with me?

She's pregnant, with Duff's kid or whatever, and then BAM! just drops this shit on me that she's actually been pregnant multiple times from me and never mentioned losing any of them to me.

I know it's my fault that she didn't tell me. I know it is. Am I going to admit that to her? Fuck no. Am I hurt over her not telling me anyway? Yeah, I am.

If I wasn't in sobriety penitentiary, I'd probably be out and about trying to find something to numb and distract me…

I don't know what to do.

But I do know one thing for sure: I'm not in love with her anymore, but I love her, and I'm pretty sure she feels the same exact way about me...but it's not like we can't get back to that place we were in when we first got together, it's just gonna take some work...a lot of work.

I huff out a breath, taking a moment to get my shit together, mentally.

Do I go back in there and finish out today or just try again next week?

I think on it for a minute…

"Fuck it." I say out, shakily, weakly, tears break past my lash line once again,

a far cry from that tough motherfucker I swore I was for years. "Just fuck it."

Fuck this.

Fuck her.

And fuck me.

#gateway drug #nikki sixx #nikki sixx x oc #nikki sixx fanfiction #👀

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saltwatersatire · 3 years

Text

“A Family Mystery Uncovered”

Write the Story: A Family Mystery Uncovered

Include the following: Sunday, secret, wallpaper, swap, sister, curiosity, island, notebook, marathon, demand

It was a warm Sunday morning, almost a perfect day, minus the annoyance of my grandmother’s two Pomeranians barking their little heads off to demand breakfast. I sat on the porch wondering if my grandmother was ever going to get up to feed them. After a few minutes, it became clear she was not. I made my way into the house and navigated through the kitchen to fill their bowls with food and fresh water.

By then, it was nearly 10am and my grandmother should have been awake. I walked down the hallway to her room to check on her. I found her sitting on her bed, an old notebook in hand.

“What’s going on, Gran?” I asked, sitting next to her. “Oh, nothing” she said, picking at a piece of wall paper that was peeling behind her nightstand. “I just found this old notebook of your father’s. That’s all.”

“Oh.” I replied. I had not seen or heard from my father since my grandfather’s funeral eons ago, and I knew that my lovely stepmother definitely had a hand in his neglect. If it wasn’t about her or her biological children, it did not matter. My older sister, Christina, and I, did not matter. It was okay though, really. Christina and I were used to it. Our father’s MO was the typical start a family and leave it to start a new one, just to do the same thing type. The one good thing that came from it all was us, our sisterhood, our bond. Christina and I share a bond that is typically only heard of with twins. Only we are not twins, we’re technically only half sisters. But still, there is no denying who we are, what we feel, or our bond.

“Do you ever wish you could have a do over?” I heard my grandmother ask distantly. “What?” I responded, startled to be jolted from thinking about my sister; and even more startled to hear her question her baby boy. “Do you ever wish you could have a do over? You know, with your dad. Don’t you ever wish you could just swap with one of your friends or classmates?” I thought on it for a minute before carefully replying “no.”

“No?” She questioned curiously. “No.” I replied firmly. “He’s a horrible father and person, and while I hate a lot of the things that he’s done and pain he’s caused, if he wasn’t my father, I wouldn’t have Christina. And I wouldn’t trade her for the world.”

She sighed. “Yes, you two are quite bonded. Your father tried everything to keep her a secret from you. But somehow you knew, you always knew. When you were little, you used to tell people that you weren’t an only child, that you had an older sister, she just lived elsewhere. You thought you were making it up to make being an only child less lonely…”

“But I wasn’t.” I interjected. It was true that he lied about Christina. It was true that he split with her mother and never looked back, never had anything to do with her, then met my mom and had me. It was also true that I thought I was making up lies about having an older sister because I’d wished I had one so bad. It wasn’t until I was about 8 years old and my parents were splitting up that my mom decided to tell me the truth: The older sister I thought I made up, existed.

“No, you weren’t. She knew about you, too. She just didn’t know how to go about finding you until she found me once she turned 18. You were one of the first things she asked about though. Somehow, you both knew the other existed. As much as we tried to leave Paganism back on the island after everything that happened in Salem, it shows through in the two of you in the most extraordinary ways. I assumed it was your mom’s teachings, until your sister ended up being the same. I guess there are just some family curses that can’t be broken.”

I frowned. “Christina and I don’t see it as a curse at all. We love our bond and connection, and we love our heritage. No offense, Gran, but unlike you, we aren’t ashamed of where we came from. We aren’t ashamed of our Pagan ancestors or the Celtic blood that courses through our veins. We’re proud of it. We embrace it.”

“Yes, and that’s what got a lot of your ancestors burned at the stake. It’s also probably why you two have such a strong connection. Almost magical. It’s definitely that Celtic blood.” She said, handing me my father’s notebook. “What do I want with this?” I asked. “Well,” she started, “it answers some other questions you and Christina may have…”

“Oh, like what?” I shot at her, getting annoyed. He abandoned Christina. He abandoned me. What other questions could we possibly have? I doubted the answers to why he was the way he was were in there. He never thought he did anything wrong. He abused Christina’s mom so she left, but he’s the victim. My mom caught him cheating with his secretary who is now me and Christina’s step mom, but somehow, he was the victim when my mom asked for a divorce. In his eyes, he could do no wrong. In his eyes, everyone was against him and he was ALWAYS the victim. He even blamed Christina and I for not being in his life, yet he’s the one who walked away when we were just kids.

Sensing my annoyance, my grandmother took a more gentle approach this time. “Honey, I know things haven’t been easy for you and your father. If there was anything I could do to change that, I would. But, I do think you’ll want to know what’s in here. Especially since you and Christina are so happy to have found each other. And especially since you’re such proud Pagans.” I rolled my eyes at her words. If the notebook didn’t contain answers about why he’s been so awful to Christina and I, then why would I want it? What else could he possibly have to answer for?

“Look, Gran, anything short of him admitting that Katie is yet another half sister and not our step sister like he’s been claiming, is going to fall on deaf ears… or blind eyes, in this case, because I already know the answers about why he keeps abandoning his daughters isn’t in there. I already know that the answers about why he treats Katie like gold and Christina and I like shit isn’t in there.”

She took the notebook from my hands and gingerly flipped through the pages until she found the one she was looking for somewhere in the middle. She took a deep breath and gently put the notebook down on my lap and quietly said “Or maybe it does.”

I looked down at the notebook page and detailed right there in my father’s very own handwriting wasn’t just the details from both mine and Christina’s births right down to anecdotes about our moms, grandparents and the doctors, but Katie’s, too. Also detailed next to Katie’s name was the lie my step mom was going to tell her current husband, and the lies my father had told my mom that contributed to the circumstances that lead to Katie’s conception and eventual birth. As well as the lies as to why he was even at the hospital for my sister’s birth when everyone was under the impression she belonged to my step mom’s ex, my real step brother, Dylan’s, dad.

I looked up at my grandmother, mouth slightly open. “But, part of you already knew that, didn’t you?” She asked quietly. I sighed and nodded. “Gran, I just need to know one thing.” She looked at me expectantly.

“He lied to keep Christina and I apart. He lied about our real relation to Katie. I just need to know… How many more of us are there?”

“As far as I know, it’s just you three. But don’t you need at least three to be considered a coven?” She replied with a sly smile. I looked at her, not quite sure what to make of everything. “I’m gonna go call Christina.” I announced as I stood up, letting the notebook fall off my lap and onto the floor. I stepped over the notebook and left the room to get my phone. I told my sister about the barking dogs, the Star Trek marathon Grandma and I binged the night before in honor of my Grandfather, and even briefly mentioned the notebook. But since Christina felt the same way about our father as I did, she didn’t press me about the notebook. And I never mentioned Katie.

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amyscascadingtabs · 4 years

Text

just know that i’m already home

Amy and Jake bring their son home for the first time.

read on ao3 ✨

It doesn't feel real to Amy until they're home.

At that point, she’s nearing forty-eight hours of having a baby. Nearly two days now, she’s been a mom to someone who now exists outside of her body, but it still doesn't feel real until she walks over the doorstep of their apartment.

The days at the hospital were a beautiful, exhausted blur, made up of trying to recover from an intense and painful event and learn her son’s signals while also seeing visitors and remembering to do other, suddenly deprioritized, things like eating and showering. Amy's certain she’ll never forget the nervosity and magic of those hours and hours spent curled up in her hospital bed just staring at their son, but at the same time, they seemed like something happening inside of a dream. Although she knows for a fact that Mac is very much theirs, that he lived inside and came out of her - she's reminded of that every time she stands up - she can’t shake the feeling that they're just borrowing him, and the hospital will make them give him back any second. When the doctor confirms that yes, everything looks perfectly on track for them to go home with their son today, Amy doesn't understand how they can just let them walk out of there.

Still, they do. No one even stops them on the way to their car to say they don't know what they're doing, and together, Jake and Amy make it through the most nerve-wracking car ride of their lives. Not that it’s especially dramatic, or because traffic is any crazier than usual, but because in the backseat next to Amy, sleeping in the safest baby car seat all of New York had to offer, is their son. He's dressed in his fuzzy white jumpsuit with ears and he keeps pulling up his fists to cover his face even as Amy tries to adjust them, and he’s the most precious cargo either of them has ever been in charge of transporting.

They're silent for most of the car ride, stunned with shock and disbelief that this is at all happening, but at every red light, Jake glances back to exchange a smile with her, and each time, it brings the happy tears a little closer.

They take the car seat first, anxious to get their baby home and not force him to be stuck in there any longer than he has to. Mac starts squirming in discomfort the second the vehicle stops moving, and by the time they've reached their door, he's close to crying. It physically pains Amy to hear - she gets that it’s related to the overflowing hormones, but she still wonders how the tiniest of cries can feel like a knife being twisted in her heart - and it's with some sort of supernatural speed that she kneels down the moment they're inside, unbuckling her baby from the seat and holding him close, close.

“It’s okay,” she tells him, rocking slowly back and forth when the whimpers don't immediately cease. “You’re home, baby. We’re home.”

That's when it finally, truly, hits her.

They are home. The three of them, a family, and from this day on, they are going to live here together. They will sleep in the same room tonight, Mac hopefully in his crib at arm’s length away from her, and tomorrow, they will wake up together. They will have breakfast, probably take-away from the nearest bakery to celebrate, and maybe eat it in bed if they're tired. Jake will go buy it while Amy feeds their son, maybe listening to NPR in the background like she loves to do on lazy mornings. They will spend their day together, packing up their things and eating ready meals from the freezer, forgetting every priority except sitting on the couch and being mesmerised by their son’s every move. Maybe Jake will put on Die Hard and insist his son needs to get familiar with his namesake from a young age, maybe they won't be able to fend off another visit from Charles and they’ll spend an hour listening to more arguments for why his nickname should be Uncle Chi-Chi, and maybe they'll fall asleep on the couch all together in the afternoon when Mac naps. In the evening, they're going to go to sleep in their bedroom all together, and the day after that, they'll get to do it all over again.

This is their home. This is where they will start their life together.

They’re a family, and now they’re home.

Mac still doesn't seem too happy, though. Amy unzips her jacket, trying to hold him as close to her skin as she can and rock him to calm him down, but it's clear from the flailing fists and repeated cries that something is still bothering him.

“Do you think maybe he just wants to eat?” Jake asks her, and when she looks at him a little surprised, he shrugs and says, “All the books I read said to try that first when they’re upset.”

“He fed for forever before we left, though,” Amy mumbles, feeling the tears burn behind her eyelids just from listening to Mac’s clear unhappiness. “It just seems too soon. But I guess we could try.”

She makes herself comfortable in the living room armchair, and Jake gets her the nursing pillow from the bedroom as she tries to manoeuvre the situation, still not totally used to the motions of handling a crying baby and unclasping the hook of her nursing bra at the same time. She's still skeptical, thinking that it feels way too short from when he last ate, but it only takes a minute of slight confusion for Mac before he latches on decisively and the fussy crying is replaced by the sweet sound of a slow, content, suckling.

“You were right,” Amy whispers to Jake as he hands her a glass of water. “He was just hungry.”

“Of course I was,” he blushes. “Or, I mean. I took a chance. I guess it was mostly a lucky guess. But, I was right, so, y’know - bragging rights.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying, do you?”

“Nope, I don’t remember what sleep feels like. How are you still sitting up?”

“Hormones,” she mumbles. “God, I’m so tired. I must look like a mess.”

“You look badass,” Jake insists so quickly Amy wonders if it’s instinctive. She’s currently wearing maternity sweatpants and a stolen hoodie from her husband, she has one boob out trying to feed a baby and she knows from looking into the mirror this morning at the hospital that her nights of minimal sleep are showing. She’s certainly felt less badass, and yet Jake is looking at her with the same amount of love in his eyes as he had the night she agreed to name their son McClane. “You are badass.”

“I am?”

“I don’t know anyone else in this room who could give birth to a baby, without any drugs or medication, in a police precinct during a city-wide blackout. So, yeah. But it didn’t surprise me,” he grins. “You’re just that awesome.”

“The craziest birth story.” Amy smiles, putting down the glass of water so she can use her free hand to stroke the back of Mac’s head. “I guess it makes sense. I mean, if you think about our history as a couple. We had our first kiss undercover, we broke all the rules and slept together on our first date, and we gave a man a fatal heart attack from making out at work only in our first day as a couple. You proposed to me during a Halloween Heist. There was a bomb threat at our wedding and we ended up getting married outside the precinct. Mac just wanted to catch up.”

“For sure.” Jake laughs, reaching over to wiggle his son’s feet the way he’s done about a hundred times in the last few days. “I get it, buddy. You wanted to have a crazy-ass story, too. You know, we would still have taken you in even if you were born at a hospital under normal circumstances, but I get it.”

Amy giggles. “He just wanted to start in time. It’s okay. It makes for a fun story,” she yawns. “But the next time better be a hospital birth.”

She doesn’t realize what she’s said until she notices Jake freezing, staring at her in disbelief. “You’re thinking about the next one?”

“No! Maybe?” She grimaces. “Yes? A little. I’m just saying - some time in the future -”

“You’re insane, you know that?”

“I’m too tired to know what I’m saying!”

“We’ll see how we do with the first one,” Jake says, shaking his head. “And then we’ll decide. Either way, we are not talking about it tonight, that's for sure.”

“That’s fair,” Amy says, booping Mac’s nose. “Let’s start with focusing on our first perfect baby.”

“That I could do forever. Have you noticed how cute his cheeks are?”

“Every time I’ve looked at him in the past two days, and then again every time you or someone else have mentioned them, and then again every time I’ve taken a picture of him, and another time when I’ve looked at the picture.”

“They’re so good. I keep thinking I’ve settled on the cutest thing about him, but I keep changing my mind, because every single thing about him is just so perfect.”

“Yeah.” Amy strokes her index finger over Mac’s soft cheeks as he starts to pull away from her breast, stretching his hands out the way she’s noticed he will do whenever he’s full. “I think he’s done. How do you feel about being burped in the face by a two-day-old human?”

“Oh, it would be the greatest honor of my life, thank you.”

Amy passes their son over to Jake, clasping the hooks of her bra back together and folding down her shirt while Jake holds their son in an already well-practiced grip, patting his back to help him get rid of the air he’s swallowed. She finishes the last sips of her water as she watches Jake snuggle his nose into Mac’s neck, breathing in the oh-so-addictive baby scent. Then it seems like he can't get enough, because he holds Mac so they're face-to-face while he presses kisses all over his son's face. Mac opens his mouth in what looks to be a yawn, and then, true to the words that were intended to be just a joke, he burps his dad in the face.

“Charming,” Jake mutters while Amy keeps laughing at his shocked expression.

“Well, I did warn you, babe.”

Mac still doesn't seem content afterwards, though. He’s fussy, cranky, and not even being bounced in his father's arms seems to relax him as he makes tiny, jerking moments before letting out yet another upset cry. They try to see if he's still hungry, if he didn't actually eat until fullness, but that just makes him pull away his head and get even angrier. His little mouth twists in discontentment, making the saddest little upside-down U, and he manages to shatter Amy's heart with just one devastated look.

Then she gets an idea, or maybe it’s instinct, but it feels more like a lucky guess. She adjusts Mac so that he’s laying upright on her chest, his nose against her neck and his heart beating against hers, and after one final shaking cry, it looks like Mac draws a breath of relief. Amy's hand strokes gently over his back, unbuttoning the top buttons of his little jumpsuit with green dots to maximize the skin-to-skin contact, and feels her son relax against her. The tension in their seems to melt away at the same time, and Amy feels like she could cry again from how natural, how fragile yet unbreakable, and how special it feels.

Her son just wants to be close to her. Her heartbeat, her simple presence, is calming to him. This child knows he is safe with her, and his sudden calm in contrast to the earlier panic is the most beautiful love-letter Amy has ever received. She feels his exhales against the skin of her neck, warm and smelling like sweet milk, and for the one-thousandth time in the last two days, she falls in love.

She is Mac’s safe place, and when he lays on her chest, he is home.

“Is it nice to be home?” Jake asks her as she carefully moves to the couch with Mac, letting her husband throw her favorite soft blanket over the three of them before he rests his head on her free shoulder.

“Are you asking me or Mac?”

“Can it be both of you?”

“Yeah,” she smiles. “I think we're both enjoying it.”

Mac grunts like he’s trying to get involved in the conversation, and they both laugh.

“He definitely is,” says Jake, kissing the top of Mac’s head. “Welcome home, Mac. And you too, Ames.”

“Welcome home, Jake,” she whispers, watching him light up in an exhausted, but nevertheless incomparably bright, smile. “It's really, really good to be home.”

Five minutes later, Jake falls asleep on her shoulder, holding his son's fist in one of his hands and drooling slightly with his mouth open. Amy sighs to herself, instantly realizing that she’ll have to wake him soon unless she wants to be stuck in this impractical position forever, but then she looks at the sight of her husband and son and feels her annoyance melt away.

Her two favorite people in the world, sleeping on her because she's their ultimate safe place and home, and they're hers. She's home with them, and they're home with her, and they're all home in the apartment where they will begin their life together. Tomorrow, and the day after that, and then for many more days to come.

Together, they're finally home.

#my writing #b99 fic #b99 fanfiction #jake x amy fic #jake x amy #jake peralta #amy santiago #mac peralta #i did it guys i wrote my fic.. two weeks later!!!!#but i did it!!!!

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scullydubois · 4 years

Text

Only the Light (ch. 3)

Description: Missy moves in with Scully post-One Breath/Scully’s abduction. In this chapter, Scully goes through her morning routine and gets a surprise...

part 1 here. part 2 here. tagging @today-in-fic.

“Only the Light” won the poll, so it’s now the official title! Yay! Thank you for voting and thanks for all the feedback--I love your comments. This part is the longest yet (and the best imo)--enjoy!!

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

She floats outstretched through the sky as if it were the community pool she and Missy used to frequent as children. She tilts her face toward the sun, feels the warmth of it washing over her. Her eyes reflect the brilliant blue sky, mini-oceans in themselves. Her back is to the city, and she’s so high up she can’t hear one bit of the noise on the ground. She hopes this is what heaven is like. If this is heaven, she has nothing to fear.

And then she’s falling, a casualty of gravity. Hell has found her. It always does. This is an unfortunate truth she must live with. The sky races past her and there’s a pit in her stomach so deep she thinks she must be breaking the laws of physics, her body stretching like a rubber band about to snap. Surely she is not a human being anymore. Surely she won’t be by the end of this.

The ground hurdles toward her. She can’t see it, but she knows. She wonders what shape they will find her in, or if she will even be found. She hopes for her family’s sake that she’s in so many pieces they can’t put her back together. It’s easier, she thinks, when the body doesn’t look human. Burying a radiant-looking thirty year old is sad. Burying a mangled mess of a corpse is a relief.

As if on cue, her alarm chirps. She awakes in one piece and punches the alarm, reality whisking away the horror of her dreams. Sweat saturates her silk pajamas, leaving a morning dew of sorts on her sheets. The blankets were thrown off at some point during the night. She does not remember doing this, so she can only assume it was the work of the demonic force in her brain.

Waking up in a puddle of her own sweat has become commonplace since she was returned. The first time the heat was so stifling she thought she must have had a fever that broke, but the mercury thermometer in her bathroom said otherwise. Her body seems to have a mind of itself these days.

For the time being, her mind is still functioning, so she pulls herself out of bed to get ready for work. This routine part of her day is a privilege she relishes. Very rarely does she get to function on autopilot.

It goes like this: first, she slips off her pajamas and changes her underwear. It is at this point without fail that she realizes she hasn’t bought a new pantyset in years, and wouldn’t it be nice if she did? This mental note slips away by the time she buttons her suit jacket and tucks her undershirt into her slacks.

Next, she switches on the bathroom light and performs the typical tasks of self-care--brushing her teeth, washing her face, and whatnot-- that some might find tedious or annoying. For Scully, they are soothing. She spends too much time thinking about aliens and not enough thinking about herself. She’s not sure she believes in either, but god, it would be nice to try.

Veering close to the latest possible time at which she could still expect to beat DC traffic to the office, she brushes her hair (no time for a hundred strokes), dabs some concealer under her eyes, and swipes on her favorite lipstick. No need to go all out; she knows where she stands.

Finally, she opens her closet and stares at the rack of heels. They’re uncomfortable and damn inconvenient for an FBI agent, but Mulder’s tall and she is not. She had a fraction of her current pairs before she met Mulder. No coincidence.

She chooses the tallest pair she owns because she needs the confidence boost. They’re headed to a nursing home in Massachusetts today, so hopefully there will be no running in the woods involved.

She click-click-clicks down the hallway. The scent of strong coffee permeates the air. She turns the corner, and there’s her sister with a pot of coffee and two plates of scrambled eggs. It is seven o’clock in the morning, and they were up at 3am last night. The last thing Scully expects is for her sister to be cognizant, let alone to have cooked.

“Good morning sunshine.” Missy slides a plate over to Scully’s usual spot at the table and pours the piping hot coffee into a ‘Kiss Me, I’m A Doctor’ mug.

Scully pinches herself. No, she’s not dreaming. This is too happy to be one of her dreams anyways.

“This is a surprise,” she says as she takes a seat at the table.

“Well, I fell asleep on the couch and woke up at 5:30. I figured it’s been awhile since someone’s cooked you breakfast.”

Scully takes a sip of the coffee.

“I don’t even cook myself breakfast.”

“Exactly.”

Melissa tops off Scully’s mug.

“Is it strong enough? I couldn’t drink mine without adding about a half a cup of milk, so I figured I must be doing something right.”

Scully is so grateful to be waited on that it could be a milkshake and she wouldn’t complain. It is strong enough though, stronger than the milk and sugar mixture someone calls coffee at the FBI.

“It’s perfect,” she says, meaning it.

“Good. I saw the end of that movie, by the way. You were right, it’s a real snoozefest.”

Scully laughs. “I actually like that movie. That’s why it helps me fall asleep.”

Missy scoffs. “They spend the entire movie pining over each other just for one chaste kiss at the end! Where’s the fun in that?”

“Probably shortly after that chaste kiss.”

Missy smirks, pleased that she’s gotten her sister to make a sex joke at seven o’clock in the morning. She softens her voice--

“I did want to talk to you, though.”

Scully finishes chewing the forkful of scrambled eggs in her mouth.

“I have to leave soon or I’ll be late.”

“Late for what? One of Mulder’s slideshows?”

Scully sits back. Maybe Missy has a point.

“I’m sure you’re tired of my questioning,” Missy says, “so I won’t ask you another thing. Say what you need to say.”

Say what you need to say. So simple, yet so powerful. It occurs to Scully that no one ever gives her this type of shameless permission. They shouldn’t have to, but she’s never been one to talk out of turn. What a relief to have the freedom to speak plainly.

She exhales. She has spent the past weeks playing back the few memories she has of her disappearance--she won’t call it the other word--and trying to decipher what happened to her. She is no closer to figuring it out than she was when Mulder gave her necklace back, but it might help to share what she does remember.

She launches into it, her memories flowing out in one long stream.

“You know, when I was in the hospital, I kept having this vision that I was in a lifeboat. There was a rope tying it to the dock and on the dock were all the people I loved, the people that were around me. You and mom and Mulder and the nurses.”

Melissa listens sympathetically, shocked and relieved that her sister is opening up.

“But I couldn’t move, I couldn’t do anything but sit there in that boat and hope that somehow, the tether wouldn’t snap.”

This is the most vulnerable Missy can remember seeing her sister since the passing of their father. There are a respected few who have witnessed Dana Scully reveal the inner workings of her mind. It’s a rare honor to witness Dana Scully reveal the inner workings of her heart.

Scully continues.

“And then it did snap, and I had...I can only describe it as a near-death experience. Dad was there...He was in his uniform with all his medals and he told me that he loved me and—that we would be together again, but not yet.”

Missy nods along.

“So I guess...that kept me from going. That’s how I knew I had to stay.”

“Wow,” Missy breathes.

“From then on, I could hear everything you guys were saying. I heard you and mom telling me that I was below the criteria of my living will and I was trying to give you a sign…”

Her voice breaks.

“I was so scared you would pull the plug on me.”

“Oh my god, Dana.” Missy engulfs her in a hug. “I am so sorry.”

Scully breathes into her sister’s neck. Her hair smells like the strawberry shampoo they used when they were children. She wonders if Missy still uses it, decides that now is not the time to bring that up. Instead, she lets go of the hug first.

“I started thinking, if I am below the criteria of my living will, maybe that’s the right thing to do. Maybe if I ever truly wake up, I’ll be so damaged I won’t be able to work for the FBI or have anything resembling a happy life.”

She sighs. “And you and mom said your goodbyes, and I was thankful, actually, that I got to hear them because so many people don’t and you just...never know with my profession.”

She bites her lip to keep from crying.

“And then sometime later I heard Mulder come in, and his wasn’t a goodbye. He touched my hand—I could feel it but I couldn’t respond—and he told me he was there. And I could feel his sadness, but I could also feel his hope. And that was all I needed, was hope.”

“He gave you the strength to wake up,” Missy says, partly as a question.

“Or the courage to.”

Melissa considers this. She remembers how solemn she felt going to Fox’s apartment that night, delivering the news that her sister was weakening. This must be how nurses feel when they tell loved ones to say their goodbyes, she thought at the time. When he said he wasn’t able to go see Dana in the hospital, she was furious. How can you be so naive? she thought. Are you so afraid of pain you refuse to feel your own feelings? She realizes now this sounds like something she might say to her sister.

Melissa decides not to mention her involvement in any of this. After all, she hadn’t succeeded in convincing Fox to go to the hospital. That was his own choice. Instead, she says--

“He was really looking out for you, you know. He was a soldier for your cause.”

The edges of Scully’s lips turn up the slightest bit.

“I don’t doubt it. Mulder is nothing if not a good soldier.”

Melissa thinks back on meeting Fox. She said that Dana had talked to her, that her soul was there. He didn’t believe her.

“Fox was exactly what you said he would be,” she tells her sister, “and somehow I was still surprised by the sheer force of his determination.”

Scully chuckles.

“Well, I don’t exaggerate these things. If anything, I downplay them.”

“No kidding.”

Melissa wets her lips, letting silence rest comfortably at the table with them.

“You’re really lucky you know, to have him as a partner.”

Scully nods.

“I know.”

And she does.

#the x-files #the x files #txf #fan fic #fan fiction #missy & scully fic #only the light fic #mine

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patroclusonly · 4 years

Text

Buck Begins headcanon: why he joined the seals, how he fell into firefighting and bi buck confirmed all in one.

Some people are actually starting to like this headcanon of Buck’s boo, so I decided to make a post about this to have everything in one place.

Big thanks to @himbo-buckley for coming up with some great ideas and helping me and waiting patiently until I finished this! <333

(Hopefully y’all read it and like it and even come to my inbox with thoughts because I want to hear them)

(tw: cancer and death by cancer are mentioned)

Buck started sleeping around right after he left his parents house. They were distant and also didn’t allow him to do much so he didn’t have a long dating history, was pretty inexperienced and his self-esteem wasn’t so good. (still isn’t but we’re talking about physical image here and we know he loves that now)

Being a 6’2, blond, blue eyed and pretty smile, charismatic hunk did help him a lot there. He got girls’ attention really quick and he was surprised, but after the first two he was like “damn,I got game” and started his journey of countless hook ups.

Not long into that journey, he realized guys were hot too and that college was a place to try new things right? So, boom, he discovered he was bi.

After college he went to south america and he got that bartending job. Now, I need to add pictures because I’m a visual thinker, so Buck looked kinda like this (but with like, no shirt or something because summer in south america):

And one day while he was working at the bar, this super hot dude walks in and they hit it off but not for a hookup at that first moment(both think the other is straight).

This dude’s name is Dave, he’s a SEAL, around 26 I guess, and he looks like this (remember, visual thinker):

He’s there with Jimmy, his high school best friend who always tries to plan get togethers when Dave is off duty. (this one get together vacation is special but you’ll find out why a littler later)

The idea of Jimmy started with a SEAL buddy of Dave, then changed to be a high school best friend that is actually a woman named Jemma that goes by Jimmy and that looked like Laura Harrier and that is actually a lesbian. BUT, after discussing it some more, Jimmy is still the high school lesbian bff but now she looks like this:

Because I saw a picture of Zazie Beetz and went “damn, she has the vibe to be Jimmy” so, she is now.

That first night when Buck and Dave met, they talked a lot. Even after Buck’s shift was over, they just sat there -way too close for two straight dudes who just met- and talked for hours.

Buck told him about his life, his sister, how he didn’t know what he wanted to do with his life now that he was out of college.

Dave told him how he met Jimmy, how he was a SEAL because his family was a military family but that his true dream was to be a firefighter.

They did that almost every day for maybe two weeks? before Jimmy was like “Make a move or I’ll do it for you!”.

So Dave, looking like that but not being even half as smooth as Buck, tries and fails to make a move. But that gives Buck the push he needed to make a move and he kisses him.

Things move pretty quickly after that, they start sleeping together, sort of dating but not really talking about it, just feeling it.

They fall hard. Like, “I’m so in love with you that every time you smile at me my heart melts a little” in love. Like “I see you looking at me with the softest eyes and I can’t help but smile” in love. That hard. But they never admitted it out loud. Until that last day.

Dave was sick. He had been sick all that time but by the end of the fourth month he was getting worse.

He noticed six months before going to that vacation, when he was working and couldn’t keep up with his team anymore. He got tired fast, started coughing when he did routine exercises. He went to the doctor and discovered it was regional small cell lung cancer.

The SEALs wouldn’t let him go back so he spent those six months trying everything. Chemo, radiation therapy, different meds, nothing really worked. And he hated how that made him feel, so he just gave that up.

He started feeling better and that’s when he and Jimmy decided to go on that vacation together. It was probably going to be their last and they wanted to have a good time.

When the symptoms came back and Dave couldn't hide it anymore, he decided to tell Buck. Not without first convincing Jimmy that they had to leave. Go back home or whatever, but not stay there where Buck would see him just get worse and worse.

That last day, him and Buck have a perfect day. The three of them spend the whole day on the beach, enjoying the warm sun and calming sound of the waves hitting the shore.

At night Buck and Dave go to Buck’s room. He lived in an apartment with a roommate but the good thing was that their shifts were usually fixed so that when one was working, the other wasn’t. And he could get the place for himself for a few hours.

After a moment in silence where Dave was mentally preparing himself to tell Buck the truth, he does. He tells him he’s dying and that there’s nothing he can do and that he will not stay there to make Buck watch him slowly lose the life in him. He want Buck to remember him for those perfect months they had together.

Buck gets angry at first, not like, yelling angry. But just that heavy feeling in his chest that turns into sadness after a second. His eyes fill with tears and he just hugs him as tight as he can and stays there for a few minutes. He asks him to stay but Dave doesn’t answer that.

Instead he tells him that it’s okay, that he knew that was coming and that he’s sorry he didn’t tell him sooner. But he’s so glad that he got to meet Buck before and that if he were to die the next day he’d die happy. Right then he finally says I love you for the first time.

Neither of them has said it before, and Buck just stares at him for a moment. He doesn’t want to say it, not then when it feels so final. So he kisses him, slow and desperate at the same time. To let him know that he does love him, that he loves him so much the affection and the fondness and the sadness he feels about losing him compares to nothing he’s ever felt before.

They make love for the first time that day, not sex, but real love making with all the feelings and intimacy and closeness they needed to reassure themselves that everything they lived those past months had happened and that they were lucky enough to find each other. Even if it was for a short period of time.

Buck falls asleep and Dave stays awake, looking at him, smiling to himself, holding him close and kissing him one last time.

He leaves in the middle of the night. He doesn’t say goodbye, doesn’t explain, doesn’t leave a note. And when Buck wakes up and realizes that, he understands and forces himself to move on, but the heartbreak he feels is still the worst pain he’s felt up to that moment.

He stays there another month. Until he gets a call from Jimmy. She tells him Dave died and invites him to the funeral. That is the worst pain he’s ever felt.

He decides to go. It was on the u.s. so he quits his job and goes back.

At the funeral he feels out of place. He doesn’t know anyone and nobody knows him other than Jimmy, who hugs him and cries when she sees him. The two of them are probably the only ones to know that Dave ever dated a man. She tells him he loved Buck like he’s never loved anyone else and that those were the best months of his life.

And Buck can’t cry, he can’t react, he can’t feel anything. He doesn’t want to, because he knew that after the moment he got that call and cried until he ran out of tears, he built a fort around his heart and that if he were to let out everything he really feels, he would just break down and not get back up again.

After that he decided to join the SEALs, as a way to honour Dave, but after six months he realizes it’s not really for him.

So he’s between jobs, and maybe he saves someone accidentally and stays there until the firefighters get there. And that reminds him of the first time he met Dave and how he said his real dream was to be a firefighter and he thinks maybe he could try that to honor him, since the SEALs didn’t work.

So he joins the academy and he passes and he gets a few offers from different stations, because he’s damn good at it.

But one of the offers is in LA, and he can’t say not to that. Not for how they are the best in the whole country or anything like that, but because he remembers how Dave used to love the sun and the ocean, and that seems like the perfect place for him. So, that’s how he starts working at the 118.

He tries not to think how funny and cruel the universe is.

By this time, he’s sleeping around again. Anything to get that closeness he craves but without his heart getting broken again. (Here’s where we find him in season one)

He never told anyone about Dave and he didn’t even hooked up with another man again. He just did everything he could to forget about that and move on.

He can’t do anything but confront his feelings and that triggers a wave of repressed memories and emotions that he can’t control.

But then, one day he starts getting messages and calls from Jimmy. But he’s worked really hard to let that time of his life go, so he just ignores her. Until he can’t, when Jimmy shows up at the fire station.

And this is as far as I can go without involving the present characters. Maybe I will do that?

#i hope this makes sense and y'all like this #because it turned real sad real quick #but i love this idea so much #i have pictures and all #boo i hope this meets your expectations!#it took me a second but here it is #evan buckley #season 4 predictions #buck begins #evan ends #911 headcanon #911 fox #dave #jimmy

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weclassygirl · 4 years

Text

𝐓𝐮𝐮𝐦 𝐞𝐬𝐭

Word count: +5.8k

Pairing: santino d’antonio x f!reader

Summary: “You’ll fit right in, I promise.”

Warnings: none i think, triggering? (if i got it wrong please tell me! i don't want to offend anyone)

Author’s note: hello, i’m back! as mentioned above if i got something wrong, please tell me! as always give me your most brutal honest opinion so i can improve. english is not my first language so beware.

dulce periculum series: 01 / 02 / ... / 04

Gif credits (x)

You wake up with a gasp, your hand immediately rising up to your neck, holding it gently. Another nightmare. Your whole body is shaking lightly, your hand releases your neck slowly and drops onto your lap.

It's sunrise. The faint light of the morning raises up directly in front of you but you see some dark clouds forming in the distance. You wonder what time it is and look towards the nightstand. The clock reads 7:30 am. You sigh, running your hands through your hair. You rub your eyes in means to wake up when you hear a distant voice coming from the hallway.

You get out of the bed and grab the white robe you left laying on the couches under the windows. You reach the door knob and turn it slowly as to not make much of a noise.

The voice that you've heard is beginning to grow more louder with every step you make. You stop by the kitchen and hear Santino talking on the phone in Italian.

You're not really surprised, it's his mother language after all, but you can hear him switch to French every now and then. Probably talking to more than one person. You hear him speaking more quietly, in a harsh tone.

You peak your head slightly from behind the wall and see him turned away from you, he paces back and forth, his hair adorned by a few curly strands that hang above his forehead.

"I think you forget your place here. You answer to me now and when I say that you have to comply to my order than you do so without hesitation, is that clear?" he says in Italian. "I am aware of what happened last night, I was there, no? Sooner or later people all over the world will take an interest in her, don't you think that-" he stops mid sentence noticing you in the doorway. You can't really read his expression, you see him showing surprise and that hint of seriousness disappears from his face.

"We'll talk about it when I'm back." he ends the call before the person on the other side can respond. Santino's gaze is focused on you.

"Good morning, slept well?" he asks as he moves towards on of the cabinets, pulling out two mugs and placing them under the coffee machine.

You move closer and sit at the chair beside the marble island. "Like a baby." you lie. You haven't slept all night due to the nightmares, it's always the same, it's always that same basement, nothing really changes in it. You move in your seat and feel pain growing up your body. You hang your head down and grit your teeth.

Santino’s expression softens but you don’t see it. He knows that there isn't much that he could do to help you ease your pain. Instead he places a cup of fresh coffee in front of you. You took some of the painkillers the doctor gave you but they still haven’t kicked in. You wrap your hands the mug and immediately take a sip of the warm liquid. Santino does the same. The morning sun has already rose up and is now casting a gold light in the kitchen. You look up from your mug at the man in front of you.

He's wearing only a dark gray shirt without a tie. His Camorra ring gleams in the golden light.

"News travel fast in this world, don't they?" you point out suddenly. You sip on your coffee, the liquid warming you up inside.

"It would appear so. The events of last night are spreading worldwide, people know who you are, where you've came from. Some choose not to believe it."

"Do you believe it?" you asks with curiosity.

"Call me crazy, but I guess I do." he puts his finished coffee back on the table and plays with his ring. Your eyes snap to it. It's golden with a red ruby inside of it.

You chuckle under your breath. "You are crazy, you called a contract on John Wick."

"Which you made me call off."

"You're welcome, by the way. If it weren't for me you'd be lying cold in the Continental's basement." you say a matter of factly. You saw it with your own eyes… well through a screen. Him laying on the metal table while the Adjudicator leans over him and examining the damage that John caused.

The cuts on his face seem to be fading away. Yours do to. The bruises are still there but not nearly as visible as before.

"What happens now?" you wonder out loud. " I heard your conversation and I'm guessing it was someone from Camorra. Do I have some kind of bounty on my head?"

His eyebrows draw in confusion. "Bounty? Why would you think that, bella?"

"I don't know.” you shrug. You can feel a sensation of anxiety building up in your body. “Maybe… maybe Winston told the High Table of what happened at the Continental and now they've decided that it would be easier to eliminate the threat." you feel yourself slightly starting to panic. "I know what happened after your death” you point to him “what if some of the events won't change?"

It's hasn't been even 24 hours and the reality of the situation finally starts to get to you. You are not entirely safe here, Santino could grant you protection, but will it be enough? One wrong move and you could be as good as dead.

Santino notices your uneasiness and stands up. "Hey, look at me." he says softly, which is surprising to hear from him. You do as he asks, staring at his emerald eyes, the sunlight falling into them from the side. "Winston will not tell the High Table of what happened there, he doesn't have any reason to. No blood was shed on its grounds." he tries to calm you down, your breathing slowly becomes more uneven. You feel like you can't breathe.

Santino sees that movement and you move away from him, your back hitting the cabinets behind you. You slide down on the floor. Your breathing is even more rapid now and you feel tears starting to gather in your eyes. You try to calm down but nothing works. You don't hear Santino sitting beside you, his arm stretched out, palm face up. You look at it, consider taking it, to ground yourself somehow.

You carefully place your shaky hand in his. He doesn't say anything just runs his thumb over your knuckles. It's a soothing gesture and you feel your heart rate calm down as you hear him speak.

"I can't even imagine how you feel. Being trapped in this world." you can tell that this isn't a thing he is used to doing. Comforting someone, a complete stranger at that. But he tries and you're grateful. "When my father told me of who I will become in the future I was terrified. I was always aware of this world, but when he said it, it felt like a new door has been opened. My sister and I were always here, but we never had a choice in it. She always wanted the seat and so did I. But the only reason she got it was because my father favored her more than me." your breathing starts to calm down as you listen to his story.

"To be able to take up one of the seats at the High Table is a great honor. Camorra is one of the most powerful at that table. One of us taking that seat was a big deal, no one knew who it would be and even we didn't know it." your eyes move to him, he keeps his vision on your entangled hands. Still running soft circles over your knuckles. "No one expected our father's decision, especially me." he sighs and brings his eyes up to yours. "But that's just the course of life, isn't it, bella?" he smiles sadly. You grip his hand a little tighter.

"If- if I can be honest, your father was kind of a dick." you say softly, still trying to calm your beating heart. Santino grins. "Yes, well, he wasn't particularly liked by people. They always saw him as someone that should be respected but mostly feared."

You look at the window, the sun has already risen up. The day has officially started. You begin to slowly stand up from the floor, Santino follows your lead. Your hand still hold his and you release it from his grip.

"There are clothes prepared for you in your room." he informs you. Clothes? You don't remember seeing them in the room. You draw your eyebrows together.

You exit the kitchen area and head towards your temporary bedroom to see a fresh set of clothes and shoes sitting on the couch beneath the window. You take them in your hands.

A classic black jeans, dark blue shirt and a pair of semi high boots. It's casual but also an elegant set. There's also a black coat next to the neat pile. It reaches your calves, the material of it is soft, firm and flexible. You quickly get dressed and look at yourself in the bathroom mirror. The clothes lay perfectly on you and you wonder if maybe Santino somehow found out your measurements throughout the night.

You step out of the bedroom and go straight to the living room. Santino is not in it but you see him from the corner of your eye, standing on the small terrace connected to the room. You gently open the door and stand beside him.

New York is beautiful at this time of day. You can hear honks of the cars from here, see people walking by in the far distance. Where are they going? Do they know of this hidden world?

"So… what now?" you lean against the railing.

"We’re going to Italy." he responds shortly still looking ahead.

Italy. His country. The place where his family rules with an iron hand. Or ruled, you have no idea how it functions now with his father and sister dead.

"Before you ask, let me explain few things." he offers, in exchange you nod your head. "Your appearance here is noticeable and it's starts to turn a lot of heads. You under Camorra's protection is the only good option for you now. I suggest you take it." he narrows his eyes at you and you quickly draw your eyebrows.

"And if I don't?" you lift your chin up and raise your eyebrow at him. He grins. "Then you end up dead in some of the alleys of this city." he confesses with a seriousness drawing on his face. You press your lips together in a thin line.

You consider his option. You already agreed to go with him so what's the difference? He may use you to his advantage but who says that it can't be used against him. You don't have to comply with whatever he would want. You just need to survive here, that's all. And if that happens because of him and his offer, you might as well take it.

"Fine. When do we leave?" you ask.

His lips draw upwards. "In 2 hours, but we need stop somewhere first." He says and turns to leave the terrace. You look one last time at the skyline of the city. Thinking it may be your last time. "There's a package waiting for me on the other side of the city."

"What is it?" you question.

"Now that would be unwise for me to tell you, no?"

"Well seeing as you would be taking me with you then I might as well know."

"It's something my father left." he says after a beat.

You don't question further. If it's from his father then it must be important, even if he wasn't the favorite child. But for him to leave Santino something and receiving it after his death… you can only guess what it is.

Both of you quickly ride down the elevator to the lobby. Santino returns the keys to the concierge and you head towards the car waiting outside.

"Don't you think that it would be faster to get your package by metro?" you turn to him. He raises his eyebrow at you as if you've just told the most ridiculous idea. "What? I might have never been in New York, but I know that the metro is the fastest way to go around. You rather just sit in traffic? Like yesterday?"

Last night the drive from the Continental to the penthouse took over 30 minutes. The distance from the hotel to the penthouse was short, but the traffic made it seem too long.

You can feel the tiny drops of rain falling onto your face and look up, the bright sun has began to hide behind gray clouds.

The Italian considers your option. "Very well." Both of you start walking towards the nearest subway and Santino takes out the metro card from his wallet and presses it to the scanner.

You're surprised that he even has one. You stand at the station, awaiting for your train when you notice something from the corner of your eye. A homeless man in baggy clothes. There isn't many people around, only few on the other side of the station.

"I think we have a company." you say looking up at Santino. His face expresses confusion. "What makes you say that, cara?" he questions.

"The guy in the corner has been watching us since we got here… and I know who he is." you glance towards the homeless man as he stands up, definitely hearing your last sentence. He starts walking towards you and Santino starts to gently place you behind him, but you stop him before he can finish that action.

He looks down on you, questions filling his head. But as soon as the man comes closer, Santino realizes who he might be and for who he works.

"The Bowery King wants to talk with you." he says in a scruffy voice. His clothes are dirty and worn out but you catch a glimpse of a shiny watch on his wrist.

The three of you hear an announcement of the train coming from the speakers and feel the rush of air behind you as the train passes by and stops. People slowly start to exit the train, the three of you don’t move. The Bowery King himself wants to speak with you. You shouldn’t be surprised, after all he has every eye in the city, or at least he would be one of the people that do.

“We’ll go with you.” you respond.

“He wants to speak with you alone.” he insists, glancing towards Santino and throwing him a dirty look. You look between both men and smile mischievously.

“No,” you step closer to the man “either we both go or you can just go back to your boss and tell him to fuck off.” the homeless man stares at you with wide eyes.

"He won't accept this, people don't refuse him."

"Well, first time for everything right?" you say raising an eyebrow. "Either we both go or none of us do."

The little morning breakdown is now sitting deep in the back of your mind, you can't afford being seen as a vulnerable girl from another world. Santino stands beside you, his lips twitching to smile.

The man looks between you too and considers taking the option at hand. "Follow me." he says through gritted teeth.

You miss the train and Santino doesn't gather his package in time.

Both of you arrive at the Bowery King's domain. People scattered all around the shelter, wearing dirty and worn out clothes. A facade. You know that all of this is just a cover up for the whole industry inside. Money flows here as well as it flows in the hands of rich people.

You walk down the rusty, metal staircase with a torn umbrella over your head, Santino trailing behind you and the King's man ahead, leading you to his boss.

The boss himself is standing on an open platform almost beneath the Manhattan Bridge. He’s holding one of the pigeons in his hands, petting it carefully. The New York air hits you with chilly wind. Your coat flatters lightly from it. Santino stands beside you, his shoulders tense. None of you know why the Bowery King would want to speak with you.

"As I live and breath, miss Jade." exclaims the dark skinned man. "I must admit it is an honor to meet you and you" he turns his sight to Santino "the man who offered 7 million dollars for the life of John Wick. Spare pocket change perhaps? We would gladly accept it." the Bowery King grins at Earl who’s standing behind you alongside four other men.

"What do you want?" you ask with an icy cold voice.

"Ah, straight to the point, I like it." he puts the bird gently back in his cage and turns to you, a transparent red umbrella over above his head and spreading his arms lightly. "You are the talk of the city. The girl who stopped the Boogeyman. To save him?" he glances in Santino's way. "And for what?"

You side eye the Italian, he doesn't say a word, only silently watches your conversation with the King.

"You’re all seeing and all knowing, shouldn’t you know that by now?" you squint your eyes at him, the left of the morning sun hitting you in the face, you hear raindrops bouncing off your umbrella.

"Hmm, your right," he hums, deep in thought. "I assume you’ve told him your explanation in a more private setting.” the King smiles, it's a pleasant smile but it holds that cold attitude. “But you know a lot too, don't you?" he steps in closer, Santino moves a bit closer to you too. "You are from a world where all of this is a movie." he gestures around himself. "A movie, Earl! Can you believe it? We are stars."

The New York traffic on the bridge is starting to get louder with every passing minute. You and Santino stand close to each other, listening, awaiting for the Bowery King's next move. The Italian decides to speak up.

"You might want to speed up your little speech, we have more important things to do than talk with rodents like you." he comments and the King grins.

"Well, no one likes to waste time, but on you," he turns to you with a mischief in his eyes "everyone in this damn city would do so in a blink of an eye."

The word does travel fast in this world. Maybe Winston did inform the High Table. You look towards the stairs from where you came from, expecting an Adjudicator to come in at any second. You feel relieved when that doesn't happen.

"Why? How many people know? No one was at the lounge yesterday." you slide your eyesight to the King.

"Well you do seem to be missing those few guests that were there before you interrupted their lovely night."

The guests. There were a few of them before you crashed into the railing of the stairs at the Continental. Few heads turned your way, and all of them left the venue when Winston told them to. What if one of them stayed in the shadows?

"Let me guess, one of them was working for you." you acknowledge.

"Indeed she was." the man says it slowly with a smile playing on his lips. "Quite a scene you've made, placing yourself in front of a gun, shielding the Camorra prince. You have some guts on you, baby." he directs his eye on the Italian beside you.

"And to answer your rude request Mr. D'Antonio, I am here to offer a deal to your lovely saviour."

You furrow your eyebrows as the Camorra head places his arm on the low of your back.

"No, we're going." Santino says coldly.

Both of you turn to walk back but before you can do that the Bowery's men stop right in front of you, hands placed on the guns hidden inside their torn jackets.

You hear a small chuckle from the King. "So quick to refuse when you haven't even heard my offer." you keep your eyes on Earl and a few other men before you turn your sight to the man standing behind you.

"Work for me." he simply says. You look towards Santino, looking for his reaction. "You supposedly considered going here in the first place, why not making it true?" your eyes slide from Santino's and go in the direction of the Bowery King.

"I'm afraid that I have already beaten you to it, she's going with me." the Italian cuts in, his eyes still focused on your frame before they move to the man.

The King stares at the prince with hooded eyes, his gaze piercing into Italian's. One leader versus another.

"I was speaking to our guest and not you, Mr. D'Antonio. So what do you say?" he takes slow steps in your direction "We could teach you everything you need to know about this world, teach you how to blend in with shadows, be unnoticeable."

You think about it and feel conflicted. On one hand staying with the Bowery could help you blend in this world, on the other you could go with Santino and see where that leads you. He owes you, that much you know, you did save him. You could use that favor in the future.

"Thanks for the offer, but... I think that going with Santino will be somewhat a better option."

The Italian stares at you in disbelief, he thought that you might take up on the man's offer.

"Call me surprised," he says slowly "do tell me one thing before we depart. Why do you think you're safer with him than with us?"

You look towards the man in question, right into his emerald eyes. The sun is not hitting them anymore, hiding behind the clouds but they still hold that bright look in them, his hair wave slightly at the feeling of the wind flowing on the platform. The birds faintly chirp in the background.

"He's Camorra and a member of the High Table. I saw how easily it is to take your bowery down. Your people, even trained , don't stand a chance against professional killers." you step closer to the King and you hear shuffling of feet behind you and soft clicks of guns.

"Careful now, it's dangerous saying things in that tone here, baby." he smiles widely but there is nothing sweet about it. "You've seen it? In this movie?" he wonders.

The King heads to one of the cages and you slowly walk towards him. The people behind you are still ready to attack if it comes to it. He pets on of the birds with his gloves hands.

"Yes and I also saw that you gave John seven bullets. But don't worry, I don't think that you're endangered now that I saved him." he knows you're talking about Santino, but he shows surprise at your mention of the bullets. It reminds you of the same surprise on John's face when you told him his real name.

The Bowery King sighs and closes the birdcage. "Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, miss Jade. Our doors are always open for you, we could really use your knowledge." your shoulder loose their build up tension just a bit. "I do hope we meet each other again."

You keep your sight on him, your eyes burning into his.

"Don't hold your breath."

He hums. "Hmm, definitely a fighter soul. I'm sure we'll hear about you again.” the man smiles and nods towards the man who brought you here. “Earl will guide you on your way out."

You turn to leave and look at Santino, his expression blank. As you head up the stairs you can hear a faint laugh of the man.

Outside there's a car waiting for you and the driver from last night. He was probably informed by Santino of your location. When he did that though, you don't know. Maybe on your way here?

Both of you enter the car and head towards the airport. The rain keeps falling onto the car and makes a tapping sound against it. You follow a single drop that slides on the window and see it connecting with the others. After a brief moment of tranquility you speak up.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

Santino responds. "You've seemed to be handling the situation pretty well. You didn't need my help."

You feel a sense of pride coursing through you. You refused the Bowery King, one of the most powerful people in New York. How many refused his offers and lived to see another day? You don't ponder about it for too long.

"He's a cool character, you know," the Italian raises an eyebrow "in the movie. The actor that played him was working with Keanu on a previous massive movie trilogy."

"Keanu?" he asks with curiosity lacing his question.

"Ah, right, you don't know, that's how John's actor is called, Keanu Reeves." you quickly inform him.

"Unusual name." he says as you pass the river.

"Yeah, it is, but it falls in memory." you stare at the water, some small boats float above it, fishermans sitting on the shore. "Just like John now that I think about it." you smile at the thought.

Santino glances at you, at your shy smile. The tranquility fills up the small space of the car. You hear the faint sound of the tires, moving on the pavement, the passing cars and a quiet sound of the flowing river.

"What about your package?” you turn to him, your face filled with concern. “We wasted a lot of time there, don't you wanna know what your father left you?" you question with furrowed eyebrows.

"He's dead anyway, I don't think that it would be something useful." he only answers. You wonder what would his father leave him? What if it was something to show that he cared about him? Or maybe something to make him hurt even more?

You don’t respond to his answer, but don’t want for the silence to fill up the atmosphere again.

"So… Italy. We're going to Naples?" you question, he looks at you as if he just acknowledged your question. "Camorra exists in my world too. They're placed in Naples and have people working for them worldwide, many of them fear them and are the second most active Italian mob." you inform the Italian.

"You just described the Camorra working here." he says with an amused smile.

You say nothing, he observes you as your coat falls delicately on the car seat, your hands clasped together in front of you. Your face is turned to the direction of the window, admiring the view of the New York. You're not in the middle of the city but it doesn't stop you from marvelling at the scenery next to you.

"Would you be taking up on the bowery's offer if I weren't there?" the Italian breaks the silence with a sudden question. You answer him without even thinking about it.

"No." you tell him the truth. You wouldn't, over the course of last events you realized that maybe being in the presence of the new Head of the High Table would be more efficient than staying with the Bowery.

"Why?" he questions further. He's curious, you did propose that offer in the first place as a suggestion, but even suggestions could be your true intention. Why changing your mind then?

"You owe me," you smirk "and I could really use a decent protection. If the bowery knows about me then it would be turning a lot of heads in my direction." you say as a matter of fact.

Last night's events may have already reach some dangerous people, maybe even the High Table itself. You don't want to risk meeting face to face with one of their servants. "I know things that some don't, that's an advantage."

"It could get you killed here." he leans in closer, his whole expression flashes with softness and seriousness all in one second. You decide to lean in too, narrowing your eyes.

"That's why I stayed with you.” you exclaim as you study him. His expression doesn’t change. You slowly start to smirk. “ You're welcome... again, you may find out one thing or two from me and my knowledge of this world." you lean back in your seat and cross your arms on your chest. "And you still haven't thanked me for that." you point out. Santino says nothing but you can see from the corner of your eyes that he tries to hide a smile.

Both of you arrive at the private airport. It’s empty, the only thing standing in the center of the open space is a pearly white plane. You step out of the car and look towards the beautiful machine. The sun has already started to peak out from the clouds, giving away to the stormy weather.

"Of course it’s a private jet.” you mumble under your breath. Santino seems to have heard that cause there's a smirk on his face as he turns to you.

“Come on.” he urges you. You walk towards the stairs leading to the plane and are met with one of the Camorra guards. He's dressed in a grey three piece suit with his hands clasped in front of him.

“Welcome back boss.” he says to Santino and the man nods his head. The Italian starts to enter the plane but the guard stops you before you can do the same. Santino notices your absence by his side and turns to the guard.

“It’s alright, she’s going with us.” you hold your gaze with the guard as he still holds your arm. He releases the grip on your arm and takes a step back. You look towards Santino and he only tilts his head as if to say Come on.

The interior of the plane is simple but still shows that state of luxury that comes with everyone flying on private planes.

“Take a seat anywhere you want. The flight is over 8 hours long.” Santino tells you as he sits down in one of the comfy chairs. You sit across from him. The only people in the small space are both of you and a hostess that comes up to you with a smile on her face. You suggest that she also works for Camorra and is probably trained in how to defend herself.

“Welcome aboard, can I get you anything to drink?” she asks politely. Her head turns from you to Santino. The Italian shakes his head, not wanting anything at this moment. You look up at the woman.

“Um… water is fine.” you say softly and return the smile. The hostess disappears and you look outside of the small window. The sun is high up in the sky, by the time you arrive in Italy it will be already night. You stare at the New York far in the distance, the high skyscrapers gleaming with light reflecting on them.

You wonder if you made a right decision. Yes, going to Camorra is a safer option but you are still not sure if they would even accept you, an outsider, one that doesn't belong in this world.

All this time that you've been here you haven't even thought of a way to get back home. Or even a way of how you really got here in the first place. Do you want to go back home? Is it worth it, to go back to a place where you were not fully acknowledged by others? You feel like the questions won't end for a long time. You break your thoughts with one question that has been bugging you since the Lounge.

“Do you think it’s a good idea taking me with you?” you ask the man sitting across from you. He glances towards you and his green eyes shine in the afternoon light.

"How many times will you ask this before we get there?" he asks with a hint of that Italian accent of his. You smirk his way, mirroring his own, faint grin.

"As many as it takes, I just… need to be sure." you hesitate with the last part. You see from the corner of your eye the sun peaking out from the leftover clouds, some of its rays fall on the side of your face.

Santino keeps his eyes on you and slowly turns his gaze towards the window. Everything is already prepared for the departure. You can hear the engines of the plane becoming alive. They roar faintly in you ear.

“You’ll fit right in, I promise.” you hear Santino say. His gaze still focused on the window, the plane begins to move and it slowly takes off. “You’ll be safe there.”

New York starts to become a small point in the distance now that you're in the air. The city is even more beautiful from above, you can still see cars moving and even the platform below the Manhattan Bridge, but you don't see any of the Bower King's men or even the King himself.

“I hope you’re right," you say quietly, he narrows his eyes at you. "cause I don’t really wanna end up six feet under, especially in this world.”

You look at your reflection in the small window, the bruises started to fade and don’t hurt as much as before. The painkillers helped but you will still have to take them in the evening, just to ease the rest of the pain as you’ll fall asleep.

It hasn't been even full 24 hours and you feel a big change coming. You don't know if it will affect the world around but you're sure that it will get to you. You sitting on that plane proves it, in a few hours you'll be in the center of the underground world or at least a big part of it.

You wonder if Camorra will be the only organization you meet during your time here. You've met the Bowery, but you know that there's so much more underneath this world.

The tranquility filling the air of the small space is deafening. Over 8 hour flight, might as well get comfortable. You lean back in your chair and lean on the side of the plane. The soft trembling of the walls lulls you to sleep, before you can fully submerge yourself into the dream land you feel a soft material being placed on your body.

#santino d'antonio x reader #santino d'antonio #riccardo scamarcio #john wick #john wick 2 #john wick chapter 2 #john wick 3 #keanu reeves #fic; dulce periculum #feedback much appreciated #and really if i offended someone by writing that scene wrong just tell me #so that i know for the future #i'm still trying to see where all of this will go so please be patient #be kind #baby steps as always

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vln-vibes · 4 years

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Watchtower Woes

Week 1 Day 4 of Maribat March

Special thanks to @little-kitty-kanny , @ethelphantom and @the-navistar-carol for beta-ing for me

It was a normal day at the Watchtower, well as normal as a space station for superheroes could be. The Watchtower looked down upon their home planet, making it seem so big yet so small amongst the sea of stars surrounding them. Today it was just Wonder Woman, Black Bat and Ladybug on monitor duty.

“Sister.”

Ladybug, otherwise known as Marinette Drake nee Dupain-Cheng (the 23-year old designer behind the Lady Luck designs by MDC company), turned to see Wonder Woman looking at her with concern. She and Diana were rather close as the Amazonian princess had practically taken her as blood sisters when she learned of a new Ladybug; seeing as her mother had once worn the mantle as well. Diana had also been her business partner when her company first began to take off.

“Are you feeling alright? You seem to be under the weather”

“She’s right,” Cassandra Cain-Wayne added in “Your center is off, you seem uncomfortable.”

“I’m fine. It's been a little stressful with the upcoming line with Wayne Enterprises,” Ladybug sighed, finding herself massaging her temple, feeling a headache already developing. “That and the team has been acting strange lately, I’ve been trying to investigate the cause, but the Miracle Book isn’t saying much, and I can’t exactly ask Master Fu anymore”

“How so, Ladybug?” Diana asked, taking a seat next to her while Cass took charge of looking through the security footage for them, still focused on the conversation.

“Well, most of them have gotten dangerously overprotective of me. Just yesterday Roi Singe took a hit for me against Hawkmoth 2.0’s latest creation. I asked him about it afterwards, and he just said that nothing could harm me? It was rather strange, especially seeing as Ryuuko and Abeille got more ruthless afterward. Chat was also hissing at people who approached me,” she explained with a troubled look.

“Even as civilians, Viperion, Monarch, and Paon were coddling me: Mari are you warm enough? Have you eaten today? No, Mari, let me get you a natural juice instead of coffee. It’s been so frustrating having to deal with their constant babying.”

“It’s honorable for your team to care for your well being” Diana commented, heavens knew how the JL got whenever one of their members was ill or was unable to perform their duties. Ladybug’s eyes just seemed to water at the implication, wiping the tears before they even fell.

“B-But that could just mean they don’t trust my abilities… what if they think I’m not worthy of being leader or even worse… of being Ladybug?”

Diana did her best to console the younger woman while Cass looked at her skeptically.

She had seen the sudden change in emotion Ladybug had gone through like whiplash, from tired to content to worried to saddened. As Diana combed through Marinette’s pixie cut, Cass continued to think of the things happening these past few weeks.

Tim had once asked Barbara if there was anything that could help with back pains, stating that Marinette had been experiencing some rather hard period symptoms.

She recalled Adrien purring along with Alfred the Cat when they had gone to Wayne Manor last week along with Tim and Conner. Even Ace and Titus were acting like her personal bodyguards, not too different from normal, though Damian admitted that it was a bit more overkill.

Just last month for the Wayne Charity Gala, during the ladies’ final fitting, she had complained to Steph that her own dress felt a little tighter than she expected... though not unbearably so, so she had just decided to leave her own dress as is.

Had it really been so obvious?

She needed to recheck whether Tim deserved the title of Detective after this. Cass stepped out of the room momentarily to make what was potentially a life changing call.

“Robin and Superboy, do you read?” she knew her baby brother, almost eighteen years old, would be hanging out at the Titans Tower in the east coast with Superboy, now sixteen, but seeing as it was a quiet day and the other Titans: Green Lantern (Milagro Reyes), Nightstar (Mar’i Grayson), Scarlet Flash and Kid Speed (Dawn and Don Allen), and Speedy(Lian Harper) would be on standby.

“Is something the matter Black Bat?” Damian responded almost immediately.

All Bats were rather keen on making sure their comms were on in case of emergencies, even when silenced, they’d have the notifications on to see who was trying to contact them.

“Do you mind coming to the Watchtower with Superboy, there’s something concerning Ladybug𑁋”

“Is she alright?” she almost giggled at how concerned her brother was before keeping her cool and responding.

“I believe she’s alright but perhaps not aware of her condition”

“We’ll be there in a minute”

Not even a full minute after stepping back in with a much calmer Ladybug, did she hear the announcement of Robin and Superboy’s arrival before the two skid into the communications room with the three heroines.

“Robin and Superboy? I wasn’t aware you boys would be passing by today,” Diana asked curiously as Damian just puffed up.

“Black Bat called about checking Ladybug’s condition” he said eyeing the scarlet hero to see if anything was amiss; other than her red rimmed eyes and flushed cheeks he found nothing unusual.

“My condition? Cass what are you talking about?” Ladybug asked confused and a bit protective.

“Superboy,” Jon perked at his name before turning to Cass “Can you hear the heartbeats in this room?”

“Uh sure…” to say he was confused was an understatement. He was rather familiar with their heartbeats, having known them for years at this point. He could hear Diana and Damian’s rather war drum like beat, Cass’ steady and rhythmic beats, Marinette’s calm and slightly faster than usual heart and then there was𑁋

Wait, what?

“That’s weird” he whispered to himself before focusing again. Sure enough it was still there a soft echoe of duhn-duhn… duhn-dun as the fifth heartbeat. But he had never heard it before… and it was coming from…

Oh duh!

“Holy schmoly! Congrats Ladybug.” He flew up to her and gave her a huge hug, conscious of his strength now more than ever. Ladybug seemed confused while Cass smiled at her.

“You’re expecting!”

Suddenly everything made more sense, Marinette thought in that moment of realization, as she felt Diana give her her own congratulations along with Damian, who wished to both brag and inform the rest of the family.

This was really happening.

“Can— can we see Doctor Mid-Nite or Doctor Thompkins, please?” she heard herself whisper. The group looked at each other, Diana contacting the Watchtower’s doctor while Damian called for Tim and the rest of the Bat Family to come as soon as they could; was that overkill? Perhaps, but no one that was even associated with the Bats could be anything less than dramatic. Jon was the one who called Conner who called Adrien to go meet them at the Watchtower as well.

Half an hour passed and Ladybug found herself lying on one of the Med Bay beds with Doctor Thompkins, the woman having to be pulled until they mentioned Marinette requesting her assistance, making the last few configurations to the ultrasound machine.

“Are you ready, dear?” the kind doctor asked.

Ladybug lifted her uniform, which she learned she could do at that moment, nearly squirming at the cold gel spreading at her softening abdomen.

“As ready as I’ll ever be” she laughed nervously before taking a deep breath. She couldn’t help but close her eyes, unsure if she wanted it to be true or not, before hearing the curtain open. Tim looked disheveled, most likely having come out of a W.E business meeting he had mentioned yesterday evening.

“Mari, what’s wrong!?”

Duhn-duhn…. Duhn-duhn… duhn-duhn

Marinette had never heard such a life-altering sound, feeling the tears swell in her eyes as her husband looked dumbfounded.

“Is— is that?” Marinette could only nod before being enveloped in a hug by him. He whispered sweet nothings and reassurances to her as the beautiful sound echoed in their heads.

“God, we’re going to be parents, sunshine”

“So it would seem, moonlight”

“M’Lady what’s—!” Chat Noir had sprinted from the zeta entrance having heard the far too soft heartbeat coming from the monitor, the Bats not far behind him. Suffice to say that the Watchtowers usual quiet was interrupted for the rest of that evening as cheers and congratulations went around the Med-Bay.

They would later learn that she had been nearly three months pregnant by the time they found out, explaining her team’s odd behavior due to the animal characteristics of the Miraculous. However, the worst news was to come a week later on one faithful morning.

“Oh kwami, get that away from me!” Marinette exclaimed as soon as she came out of their room in their studio apartment in Gotham. The scarlet hero having to rely on Pegasus for travel to and from Paris for the time being. Not that her team even wanted her on the field in the first place at the time but she was anything if not stubborn, a necessity for the Wayne family.

That was how the coffee obsessed duo discovered that Marinette and baby were disgusted by the mere smell of coffee. Truly, it was the hardest part of the pregnancy.

Six months later, when Thomas Louis Drake-D.C was born, his aunts and uncle would continuously call him the ‘Second Coming of Christ’ for doing the impossible and getting his parents to cut off their caffeine addiction, much to their annoyance.

For now they were just a family of three, looking at the infinite stars of their baby’s eyes.

My AO3

Ko-Fi

#Maribat #MariBat March #MariBatMarch2020 #timari #timinette #Tim x Marinette #Tim Drake x Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Maribat March day 4 #Day 4 #Watchtower

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coffeefairy · 4 years

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Writer’s Month August 2020 - Day 7

Day seven of the challenge, late, because I am a helpless procrastinator

Day 7, Hurt/comfort

Fandom: Star Trek: The Next Generation

Ship: Daforge, or just Data & Geordi

Rating: General audiences

Summary: The Enterprise passes through a tachyon irregularity that affects Geordi's eyes and starts regenerating the cells in his eyes. At the prospect of his life changing irrevocably, he could use a little support. Luckily his best friend doesn't have to be human to know how to make him feel better. Can be read as Pre-Daforge or not.

Excerpt:

“I am this far from you, on the left.” He put Geordi’s hand to his shoulder so he could feel the distance. About two feet. A bit higher up, but not a lot as the bed’s top end was raised.

It was ironic that Data, who possessed no natural empathy, only what he’d been programmed to, could understand better than anyone on the ship what to say and do to make Geordi feel at ease.

Tags: hurt/comfort

Through Your Eyes

Geordi tried to focus, all of his attention needed purely to stay upright as paid spiked through his temples. Like sharp ice it nailed through bones and paralysed him. Sensing Data’s arm under his, strong enough to support most of his weight this way, he called for a medical emergency.

“It’s...okay. Just give me a hand to MedBay, will you?”

“Geordi, I do not believe it is advisable for you to move. The med team will be here shortly.”

“Data, I…” A wave of pain shocked him and he doubled over. The android’s arm circled around his back to keep him upright. Fisting a handful of the commander’s uniform he hissed, “Get me out of here. I don’t want my team to...to see me like this.”

“Geordi, you are in pain, the engineering team will hardly-”

“Data, please. Help me out of here.”

He hesitated for a moment. “Very well.”

About to hoist him up off his feet, Geordi protested.

“Just help me to the door. Walking.”

It felt like an eternity and he had his team’s worried eyes on him the whole way. Data was thankfully not giving any indication that he was basically supporting all of Geordi’s weight.

“Return to your duties. I will see to Commander LaForge,” the android instructed.

The door whooshed closed as his team returned to their duties.The moment it closed he sagged against Data, no longer able to keep himself upright. It had taken all his will to not collapse in main engineering.

“Would you please allow me to get you to Med Bay now?”

He managed a nod and in the next instant he’d been pulled up into the android’s arms.

“How are you feeling?”

“It’s...bad. Something’s wrong. It’s painful and I...there are lights flashing?”

“Do not worry. We are almost at the Med Bay.”

“Are people..staring at me...getting carried around like some princess from a fairy tale?” He managed a weak chuckle.

“People are regarding you with concern, not amusement, Geordi.”

“Small blessings.”

The next wave of pain crashed over him and stole the air from his lungs. Consciousness slipped from him like sand through a closed fist.

Data arrived with Geordi in his arms just as Doctor Crusher was about to leave for engineering.

“Data! Why did you bring him?”

“He insisted,” the android replied simply. He stepped in and Crusher directed him to a bed to put the unconscious Chief Engineer on.

“What happened?”

“As the tachyon pulse increased, Geordi was beset by severe pains. He stated he had a headache “like ice picks to his eyes”. I called for you but Geordi insisted he did not want to appear incapacitated in front of his team. So I escorted him here.”

He stepped back and Crusher began running her tricorder in even movements around Geordi.

“If you have duties, we are fine here, Data.”

“I would prefer to stay if that is all right.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

o.O.o

When Geordi woke the pain had subsided from a raging, shrieking tear to a duller, pulsing one. Without his VISOR the dark was still impenetrable but it was somehow moving, vibrating.

Crusher had just told him that his vision was improving. Drastically.

Geordi had been told by many physicians over the years that he would soon be able to see. When he was younger it was something he had hoped for but as he grew older, he realized that having sight would change who he was. His world as he knew it would suddenly be different and he would have to adapt in whole new ways. Considering it, after another disappointing procedure failed to produce a response, he had decided he didn’t want to spend his life trying to change himself.

He’d been fifteen then, and since, he hadn’t wished himself to be different.

“Thanks, Beverly.”

She squeezed his arm, knowing he wasn’t thanking her for the random spike in tachyon particles that had led to the change, but for telling him the truth. She was well-aware Geordi wasn’t longing for change.

“Data is here as well, would you like me to let him in to see you?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

A few moments later he heard the door open and close, then the android’s touch on his arm. Gerdi had only mentioned it to Data once that he felt lost without his VISOR and that touch reassured him of the other person’s presence in relation to his. The android, unlike humans, had never forgotten.

“Hello, Geordi.”

“Hi Data.” He turned his head towards where his voice sounded.

“Are you feeling better?”

“In a way. It’s a less sharp pain. Where are we?”

Once more Data knew he wasn’t asking for the response “in Med Bay” but for help identifying and visualising his surroundings so he could picture where he was. He felt safer with at lleast an idea of his surroundings.

“We’re out of the emergency room in MedBay, in one of the recuperation rooms. Number 3, the closest one to the outer deck four corridor. Your bed is facing away from the window and the room is four foot by seven. A nightstand with an alarm button is on your right and I am on your left.”

Geordi relaxed slightly. He’d never been into the recuperation rooms himself but he knew where they were and calling a blueprint of the ship to his mind’s eye he plotted the outline of the room.

“Thanks, Data.”

“You are welcome. Would it be all right if I stayed with you for a little while?”

“Yeah, of course. You’re not on shift?”

“No. It is 22:53 and I am on duty again at 10:00.”

“You don’t have to stay, if you have...things to do.”

“Geordi, do you not want me to stay?” He didn’t see or hear it, but he knew Data had tilted his head as he was wont to do when processing at a higher speed. As he did when attempting to parse human emotions.

“No, no, I’d like it if you would but...Do you want to?”

“Of course. When someone is unwell it is customary for friends and family to visit and keep them company.”

“That’s true.”

“And we’re friends.”

Geordi smiled. Many of his colleagues may not understand it, but he knew it was the truth.“Yes, we are. You’re my best friend, Data.”

“I am honored to be considered such by you.” Data took his hand, the grip warm and comforting.

“That’s all right, buddy,” Geordi mumbled.

“I also know being without your VISOR makes you uncomfortable. If you wish, I will stay until you fall asleep.”

Data couldn’t laugh at him, couldn’t find him childish for it. He couldn’t consider him weak or less for feeling adrift and uncertain when he didn’t have his VISOR on.

“I...That would be...Thanks, Data.”

“You are welcome once more. I will get a chair. One moment.”

Something scraped over the floor, then Data’s hand returned over his.

“I am this far from you, on the left.” He put Geordi’s hand to his shoulder so he could feel the distance. About two feet. A bit higher up, but not a lot as the bed’s top end was raised.

It was ironic that Data, who possessed no natural empathy, only what he’d been programmed to, could understand better than anyone on the ship what to say and do to make Geordi feel at ease. Without making him feel different or awkward in any way, he still responded to his needs and never forgot.

Geordi had once asked him if he had support functions built in, like a medical robotic assistant but Data had just shaken his head. He said he’d once, just after they’d met, tried to envision what blindness would be like. He’d turned off his visionary input, parts of his spatial awareness, the ship’s layout and locked all functions for five minutes. After, he’d stated that while he couldn’t be emotionally uncomfortable he had found it disorienting, frustrating and difficult on a purely practical level. He’d added he had nothing but the greatest respect for Geordi for managing and understanding for him not caring for being without his VISOR.

To actually go to the length of trying to be blind was more than any of his other friends had ever done for him, and Data had done it after a casual conversation with a colleague.

“Dr Crusher said you are regaining your sight due to the temporal distortion regenerating the cells in your eyes.”

“That’s what she says.”

“You do not sound as if you believe her?”

“I…” He shifted in bed a little. “I don’t doubt her skills or her knowledge, it’s just that I...I’ve heard it before. Doctors have been telling me all my life they’ve found something now, something life changing and that it’s going to give me my sight back. But I haven’t wished for that for years. While I don’t necessarily like being without my VISOR, having it is how I want to see. It’s how...It’s how I see, and if that changes, I believe that I would change too.”

“I believe I understand. It is akin to my wish to experience emotion, however it would irrevocably change my understanding of the world.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly it.”

“I see. But the outside forces are regenerating the cells regardless of our intervention.”

“I know,” Geordi sighed. “I am hoping it will wear off as we pass the area.”

“And if it does not?”

“I have learned from many hospitals and examination rooms that patience and not taking the worst case out in advance is the best way to deal with change.”

“I would venture that is a wise approach.”

Geordi realized Data’s hand was still wrapped around his on the bed. It was comforting. His presence, the slight body heat coming off his, the sounds of his breaths in the dark, all enforced the sense of his being in the room. Despite not requiring any of those apparent biological functions like humans did, he still needed them - to control the heat around his processing core and maintain an optimal operating temperature. It also made humans around him more comfortable that he was warm, breathed and blinked.

“Data, would you...would you keep your hand there until I fall asleep?”

It might not be a request a grown man made of his friend often but Geordi couldn’t help it. If his life was about to change, he needed a little more than patience today.

“As you wish. Is it helping you?”

“Yes. It...anchors me in the room. Makes me feel less...isolated.”

“Then I am glad.”

Dr Crusher had to have given him something to make him sleep when she was in as tiredness rolled in, sudden and heavy.

“Oh, and Data…”

“Yes?”

“Could you file what I’ve said to you and asked you for under private settings?”

“Of course. One moment. I have removed them from the accessible memory cores.”

“Thank you.”

Data squeezed his hand in response and it was the last thing he was aware of before falling asleep.

#writersmonth2020 #daforge #star trek: the next generation #data #data x geordi #geordi tng

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worldoffae · 4 years

Text

My Small Joy - Rowaelin AU

A/N: Here’s chapter 2! This chapter is a bit shorter than the first. But be rest assured that the next chapter will more than make up for it in length! This was one of those chapters needed to further the story. There will be a lot of time jumping forward from this point forward. I hope you enjoy!

Story Rating: Explicit

Summary: Six months ago Aelin got the worst news of her life. She would never be able to get pregnant, to give birth to a baby that she so desperately wanted. Deciding that Aelin needs some fun in her life, Lysandra takes her out to a club where she meets the silver haired man of her dreams. A one-night stand takes a turn when 6 weeks later Aelin finds out she’s pregnant! Her world is turned upside down when she runs into him again at a coffee shop. Aelin tells him the truth and this handsome stranger tells her he wants to raise their baby together and she agrees.

Masterlist

Chapter 2: (This chapter has brief mention of sex)

“So you’re like, 100 percent sure that you’re pregnant?” Lysandra asked from where she stood at Aelin’s kitchen counter, drinking deeply from the glass of wine she had just poured for herself.

Aelin gritted her teeth. “I’ve taken like seven different tests seven different times Lysandra. They all tell me that I am but I still feel like I’m going crazy, so you tell me.”

Aelin flopped back on her couch, tossing her arm across her face.

Six weeks ago she had had the best sex of her life. Absolutely mind-blowing sex that had made her legs shake with the force of her orgasm. Sex with and amazing stranger with muscles fit for a Greek god that had supplied many memories that had her hands between her legs and her head thrown back late at night.

Things had been so great up until this point that she hadn’t seen it coming. Of course there was no way she could stay that happy without anything bad happening.

To be fair, she had yet to decide if this was bad or not. On one hand, she had been told that she would never have a baby and now she was pregnant when she thought she would never have that. But on the other hand, she was suddenly pregnant and by herself. She knew that Lysandra and Aedion would always be there for her, but it wasn’t the same as being with your partner. She had imagined doing this with Sam on more than one occasion and the thought of going through this without him…

The biggest reason was one Aelin didn’t want to admit to herself just yet: that she wanted this baby more than anything, even if she did have to do it alone, and that she was terrified that this was a fluke and she would lose this thing she wanted so bad before it even had a chance to begin.

“Well, this is good news then, isn’t it?” Lysandra asked. She had walked over and moved Aelin’s feet out of the way to sit down. “You were so devastated when the doctors told you that you wouldn’t be able to have a baby.”

“I know, but I’m so fucking scared Lys.” Aelin’s voice broke as tears threatened to fall. She took a deep, steadying breath and sat up. “What if this is just a fluke? That I did somehow manage to get pregnant but I end up losing the baby?”

The tears flowed freely now despite Aelin’s best efforts to wipe them away. Lysandra set her wine glass on the table and took Aelin’s hands in her own.

“Hey, hey,” she soothed, squeezing Aelin’s hands. “It’s okay to be excited. No matter the outcome, this is an amazing thing, Aelin. And Aedion and I will be here for you every step of the way.” A smile graced Lysandra’s lips. “You know, when you told us I thought Aedion was going to freak the fuck out. After we left, he cried in the car saying how happy he was for you.”

Aelin sobbed harder.

“We’re both here for you. There’s no getting rid of us,” Lysandra said, laughter in her voice. She raised Aelin’s face and wiped away her tears.

“Ugh,” Aelin sniffled. She pulled her best friend into a hug. “How did I get so lucky to have you two idiots in my life?”

Lysandra threw her head back in laughter and Aelin couldn’t help but laugh too.

All Aelin wanted was a cup of coffee. Unfortunately, she could only drink decaf and that wasn’t cutting it. She had one more class to do a final for before she was done with the semester and officially done with school. And then working on the mountains of applications she had to hopefully work her dream job. But for now, she just needed a cup of coffee. Hopefully it would at least make her think she had caffeine in her system.

New York this time of year was packed more than usual. It was mid-december and it seemed everybody was wanting something to warm them up. The line to her favorite coffee shop was to the door and she had to squeeze her way in. She let her eyes roam around the small space in hopes of finding a spot to sit.

Her search came to an abrupt stop as they landed on a muscular figure with silver hair standing in line. Aelin felt her breath catch as her heartbeat sped up. There was no way he was here. In her little hole in the wall coffee shop. But sure enough, there he was, smile on his face as he laughed at something his curly haired companion said. She never thought she would see him again.

Before she realized what she was doing, Aelin had moved from her spot in line and was right next to him, hand reaching out to tap his shoulder lightly. Rowan turned around, his eyes widening in surprise.

“Aelin?”

“Hey,” was all she could think of to say as her head emptied out. Wait, what was she doing? What was she going to say to him? Hey, I know we don’t actually know each other and had a one-night-stand 6 weeks ago, but I’m totally pregnant so surprise, you’re gonna be a dad?

Recognition lit in Rowan’s companion’s eyes and a wicked smile formed on his lips. “I’ll give you two some time. See you back at the office, Rowan.” He started walking towards the door, waving a hand in the air. “And don’t forget my coffee!”

Rowan scoffed as he watched the door shut behind his friend. He turned that beautiful gaze of his on her, a slight blush gracing his cheeks as he offered her a small smile. “I wasn’t expecting to ever run into you again. How have you been?”

Aelin managed to choke out a laugh. “Um, I’ve been good. Well, I was doing great and then…” she trailed off, not knowing how to continue that sentence. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been pretty good.” His eyes searched her face for a second before he continued, “I’m actually glad I ran into you. I-”

“I’m pregnant,” Aelin blurted. She watched as he blinked a couple of times. She slid her hands into her jacket pocket to try and hide their shaking. She looked down at the ground, a shaky laugh escaping her. “Oh shit, that was awkward. Um,” she stammered, removing her hand from her pocket to rub at her neck. “Forget I ever said anything. I should probably get going.”

She turned to leave, feeling like an idiot for dropping that bomb on him so suddenly, and stopped mid-turn when he gently grasped her elbow. Aelin slowly turned back towards him and continued staring at the ground instead of him.

“Do you want some coffee?”

The question threw her off guard and her eyes snapped up to his face. She found him watching her, a gentle expression on his face. He inclined his head to the counter where they were next in line. “My treat,” he said.

Aelin opened and closed her mouth, feeling like a fish out of water, before she clamped it shut and nodded. They stepped up to the counter and took their order before moving off to the side to wait. They were both quiet as they stood side-by-side, their arms brushing.

She kept glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. How was he so calm? She’d been freaking out since she saw that positive. Why had he not said anything?

After what felt like hours, the barista finally called Rowan’s name and he took both their drinks from him and handed Aelin hers. He nodded towards the door, a silent invitation to follow him as he headed for it.

They walked through the cold for a little while before coming to a quieter spot near some trees. Rowan sat down on the bench and Aelin followed suit.

“Please say something”, Aelin finally said. “If you keep staying that quiet I’m going to go crazy.”

Rowan chuckled, bringing his coffee to his lips. He took a sip before asking, “When did you find out?”

She turned her body towards him. “A couple of days ago.”

Rowan nodded. “So, I guess the condom was useless.”

A smile tugged at the corner of her lip at his joke. A beat of silence followed before she said, “I understand if you’re freaking out. I honestly didn’t think I was ever going to see you again so I didn’t think out what I should say to you if I ever did, so I know I did this all wrong. You don’t have to be involved at all and-”

“I’m going to cut you off right there,” Rowan chuckled, the deep rumble vibrating through her bones. “You look incredibly nervous so let me help you.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, coffee cup dangling in his hands, and looked her in the eye.

It took everything in her being to hold his gaze and not look down at his lips. Serious conversation time. Right.

Rowan continued, seemingly oblivious to her roaming mind, “I will go with whatever you decide you want to do. Ultimately this is your decision as you’re the one having to carry this baby. But I will say that if you decide you want to keep it, I would be so incredibly honored if you allowed me to be a part of their life and help raise them.”

Aelin’s breath caught in her throat and she searched his eyes for a trap. All she could see was determination and truth glittering in his eyes. “Why?” she whispered. “You don’t even know me and you’re willing to raise a child with me?”

Rowan finally broke his gaze and leaned back into the bench. He looked at the ground as he said, “You’re right that we barely know each other. I… I had a wife.” Aelin felt her heart ache with a familiar pain at the tone of his voice. It was filled with so much hurt. “She was 5 months pregnant with our son when she was killed by a drunk driver on her way home from work. That was five years ago and not something anybody but my closest friends and family knows.”

Rowan finally glanced back at her before he quickly looked away, silver lining his eyes. Emotion got caught in her throat and she took a shaky breath. A tear slipped down her cheek that she quickly wiped away. Flashes of a young, smiling face ran through her mind. She remembered that joy and happiness of being in love and wanting to have a family together. Of having that dream shattered. So with her broken heart she offered up a bit of truth herself.

“I want this baby more than anything. 6 months ago I was told I would never be able to get pregnant.” Rowan straightened and finally looked at her again. “And now somehow I am and I’m so fucking terrified it’s all just a fluke, and that I’m going to lose this baby. I’ve wanted a family for so long… and I don’t think I can bear another heartbreak.” This time it was Aelin that avoided looking at Rowan and instead looked at her shaking hands wrapped around her coffee cup.

She could feel Rowan’s eyes on her face. He gently took one of her hands in his and put his other hand under her chin and raised her face to look at him. “Then we agree. Let’s get to know each other while we wait to meet our baby.”

There was a sparkle in his eyes that Aelin couldn’t place. Or maybe she just didn’t want to admit what it might be. But she felt the endless weight over her heart lift, just a little. And something like joy shone in it’s spot.

“Yes, please. I would love that,” Aelin said, a smile blooming on her lips.

Rowan stared at her, dumbstruck, before a smile of his own appeared. A promise of what was to come, what she might finally have and Aelin let that quiet joy take over. At least for now, maybe she should be allowed to be happy.

#throne of glass #rowan whitethorn #aelin ashryver galathynius #aelin galythinius #rowan x aelin #rowaelin #rowaelin au #my writing #my small joy #pregnancy au

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sdottkrames · 4 years

Text

Queen of Hearts: A Mentalist Fic

@comfortember Prompt 2: First day/night.

Summary: A year with Jane and Lisbon’s little girl. (Spoiler alert: everyone is in love).

Notes: This is a two part fic. Chapter Two will be up towards the end of this month, so stay tuned!

Read it on AO3: here

Again, if anybody would like to be tagged, let me know. I hope you enjoy!

Day One

Teresa woke up that morning, normal as anything. Patrick was already up as per usual, sipping his special tea. He shot her a happy, golden smile, making her heart melt. She wandered over to him, running her hand through his curls.

“Good morning,” he murmured, and handed her a cup of coffee, just the way she liked it. Somehow, he always made it better. She had a theory that he hid some really expensive coffee somewhere, but she knew he’d never tell her if she asked, and knew better than to try and find it. She’d never be able to outwit Patrick.

She sipped her coffee and smiled over the rim. “Hey.”

It was a quiet moment. Sweet, simple, and full of love. But then it was shattered with the sensation of water running down her legs. Teresa nearly choked on her coffee.

“Teresa, you alright?”

She shot him a look filled with terror, and placed a hand on her stomach. Her brain was short circuiting. She’d faced serial killers, guns, and knives without hardly a blink. But delivering a baby? Very new territory.

Patrick understood the message, and understood her inner panic. He quickly led her to their bedroom where he threw her some sweatpants and grabbed the overnight bag they packed a week ago while she changed.

She focused on breathing through the fear and pain as Patrick sped to the hospital, surprised to find she was grateful for his erratic driving for once.

At 1:37 PM, Cameron Angela Jane came into the world. She had eyes like her father and hair like her mother. Patrick cried, Teresa cried, Cameron cried (of course). In short, there were a lot of tears.

Teresa and Patrick had gone back and forth on names for a long time. She had wanted, of course, to honor Patrick’s late wife or daughter somehow, but Patrick had also been insistent on honoring Teresa’s family. They decided on Cameron, after Teresa’s mother, and Angela, after Jane’s wife. There had been tears then, too.

Aside from the first few minutes, Cameron was surprisingly quiet for a baby. Once she had been bathed and nestled into her mother’s arms, she settled instantly. The doctors had her nurse right away, and the little girl was asleep within seconds once her stomach was filled.

Teresa felt her heart shifting and swelling to make room for this beautiful, precious baby like her stomach had done for 9 months before.

She couldn’t take her eyes away.

“She’s so perfect,” she whispered, sniffling back a few tears.

“I know,” a quiet voice beside her said softly, and Teresa looked over at the only person that could possibly make her happier than the little bundle in her arms. Patrick.

“We did a good job, didn’t we?”

“Well, you did most of it, love,” he grinned, his eyes so filled with happiness and love, in such stark contrast to the sadness and bitterness that had filled them when she first met him.

She offered him the bundle of blankets, and watched tears fall as he took their daughter ever so gently and stared at her with such adoration and wonder.

Patrick tore his eyes away to look at Teresa again, and the hospital bed squeaked as she shifted to let him climb into it with her, carefully maneuvering so he didn't wake his precious cargo. She snuggled right up against his side, laying her head on his shoulder with a happy sigh. Feeling whole, and content, and incredibly exhausted, she let her eyes droop.

Patrick noticed, observant as ever, and gently kissed her forehead. “You should rest,” he whispered, and quietly started to hum until both his girls were sleeping peacefully.

One Month

Patrick and Teresa moved around each other like a practiced machine. Cameron (or Cammy, as they’d taken to calling her) was sleeping. But only for about another 45 minutes. They needed to get everything done before their world became completely absorbed by Cammy again.

Not that they would complain. They had created a habit of watching her sleep when they were supposed to be sleeping, missing precious time because they only got three hours at a time. .

“What is it about babies sleeping that’s so cute?” Teresa had asked one night as they stared at their sleeping daughter, twin looks of adoration on their faces.

“I don’t know. I was the same way with Charlotte, though. I’d stay awake all night just watching her sleep if Angela didn’t pull me to bed.”

He’d been talking about his family more lately, Cammy brought up memories of another little baby girl, and Teresa gave his hand a squeeze. She was relieved to see no sadness on his face, just wistful memories, and then Cammy yawned and he melted, and even the wistfulness faded.

But it wasn’t bedtime. It was naptime, and they were in mission mode.

Since bringing Cammy home, their normally (relatively) clean house had been a mess. Dishes left in the sink for days at a time, baby toys and blankets and diapers littering the floor, and their laundry hamper overflowing. But they developed a system, and Saturdays’ naps are for cleaning house.

Patrick grabbed the laundry from their room (tip toeing past the nursery) and Teresa took it from him with practiced precision as he continued down the hall to the kitchen. Once the wash was going, she started picking up the living room.

They finish and collapse onto their couch with 10 minutes to spare.

“We’re getting better,” Patrick murmured, sliding down so his head was in his wife’s lap and his legs hung over the armrest. Her hands started running through his curls of their own accord and he smiled softly as his eyes drooped.

The peaceful moment was broken 5 minutes later as cries began to erupt from the nursery, and Patrick immediately sat up. “I got her.”

While Teresa relaxed back into the couch, Patrick made his way down the hallway.

“Hey, little dove. Good morning!” he cooed as he opened the door.

The nursery had become one of his favorite rooms in the house. The walls were a beautiful, light mint blue, which made the white furniture and curtains stand out. (He’d insisted on the blue. It was Charlotte’s favorite color.) He picked up the sniffling baby from her crib and laid her on the floor to change her diaper.

“How’s my little angel, huh? Did you have a good nap?”

Cammy cooed in response, and Patrick couldn’t help but coo back. He smiled at his daughter. (His daughter!) And then something amazing happened.

She smiled back.

Forgetting about the diaper, Patrick called “Teresa! Come here!” He winces when he heard her running, panicked by the urgency in his tone.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to alarm you, but…she smiled at me! Her first smile!” he said excitedly, gesturing to their still bottom-naked little girl, who was flailing happily on the floor.

Teresa smiled at her baby. “Did you smile at your daddy, huh?”

Cammy’s nose wrinkled as she smiled again, this time directing her smile at her mother. Both her parents smiled back.

Three Months

Cameron had her mother and father completely wrapped around her finger. They both loved her more than they thought it possible to love anyone and would give the world to her if they could.

But that didn’t mean they didn’t want to hand her to someone else to deal with sometimes, too...particularly when she started screaming at 3 in the morning.

“Patrick, your daughter’s awake.”

“No, we both know she wants you, not me. She’s going through a phase ,” he mumbled, turning over in bed to face his wife, his eyes still determinedly shut. “And I got her last time, anyway.”

Teresa groaned as she got up for the third time that night, padding over to the bassinet at the foot of their bed.

Cammy had been sleeping through the night for the last month, much to the amazement and excitement of her parents. She’d nurse before she went to bed, then Teresa would nurse her before she and Patrick went to sleep, and she would be good for about 6 hours. But lately, she had been determined to not sleep for more than two hours at a time.

To top it off, she had, as Patrick complained, been going through a phase where she only wanted her mother. If Patrick so much as looked at her in the middle of the night, she cried impossibly louder until he handed her to Teresa, then she settled down into her normal volume of crying (which, spoiler alert, was still very loud).

In short, Teresa was exhausted.

“Cammy, I love you, but you are making me crazy!” she muttered, picking up the squalling baby.

When the same thing happened the next night, and the night after that, Teresa started to get really desperate. She’d had rough nights before, sure. Calls in the middle of the night to go to a crime scene, nightmares (hers and Jane’s), even getting up with her brothers when she was still at home raising them. But this had hit another level.

And Patrick could tell.

He tried, of course. He tried to get Cammy and pick her up, but nothing he did stopped her from crying. The only way any of them got any sleep was when he gave in and handed her to Teresa. He had no idea what to do, and it was a strange feeling.

Then he got an idea.

It came to him suddenly. Everyone loves to drive with me , he’d joked once to Cho. Driving had always been soothing to him, and he remembered Angela mentioning a friend had driven around to soothe her baby once. Cammy always fell asleep during car rides, anyway.

So, the next time Cammy started screaming, he quickly hopped out of bed and slipped on some shoes.

“I’m going to take her for a drive, see if that helps,” he said to answer the confused look his wife shot him. “Go back to sleep.”

She nodded gratefully and sank back into her pillows.

“Alrighty, little terror, you’re coming with me.”

Cammy protested her car seat. Loudly. But Patrick persisted, refusing to lose a battle to a 3 and a half month old. Once she was buckled, he began to drive. He didn’t pay much attention to where he was going, just hummed along to the classical music he had put on hoping to soothe his daughter.

Slowly, her cries decreased in volume, then turned to whimpers, then stopped altogether.

“Hey, princess, there you are,” he cooed at her, catching her eye in the rearview mirror. To his relief, Cammy shot him a gummy smile instead of her usual angry yell. “Oh, a smile, huh. Thank you. This car ride thing must really be working.”

He turned onto another street, then another, mostly paying attention to the way Cammy’s eyes started drooping and her head started lolling against the side of the car seat. She tried to fight it. Every so often, her eyes would close, and she’d determinedly open them again. But soon she had to give in.

“Finally,” Patrick sighed when her eyes closed and stayed that way. He glanced at the clock. 4:37.

After a few more minutes of driving around to ensure she really was asleep, he made his way back to their house and parked the car, but didn't get out. A car was definitely not the worst place he’d slept, and he didn’t want to chance taking Cammy out and waking her up. Besides, if she stayed in the car with him, Teresa could finally get more than 3 hours of rest.

Soon, he drifted off to the quiet sounds of Mozart and the snuffling sounds his daughter made, and decided they were some of his favorite sounds to go to sleep to.

#mine #comfortember 2020 #the mentalist #i just really love them okay?#I'm trying to figure out a good time to post things #what time exactly is TBD lol

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ruthoakenshield · 4 years

Text

The Lady in the Black Leather (Ch 21)

Catch up here [chapter 20]

Aiden x Scarlett, Graham McTavish, Reader

You, Aiden & Scarlett visit for a while, then Graham shows up with a pretty bouquet of brightly colored daisies and mums with a big sunflower in the middle of it, and a tray with two coffee cups and a brown paper bag in the other hand. He had a ‘get well’ balloon also for you, which was tied to the vase of flowers.

You giggle and thank him for them. He grins and sets the flowers and balloon down on the windowsill next to the ones from Aiden and Scarlett.

He comes and gives you a little hug and kisses your forehead. “How’s my girl doin?” he asks.

You grin, “Don’t let Rich hear you say that!” you tease.

He grins, “Well, me and Gwen laid claim to ya before Rich did, so he’ll have to just deal with it.” He says cheekily, making you giggle. “So, how are ya doin?” he asks.

You shrug. “Tired, my leg hurts, and I’m hungry.” you reply and grin when he sets a bag on the table and hands you a french vanilla cappuccino from the tray.

“Well, breakfast is here now, so at least ya won’t be hungry anymore.” He chuckles. “Don’t they have ya on pain meds?” he asks you.

“Yeah, but I told the nurse I didn’t want them till I had some breakfast in me. I’ll get them in a bit.” You tell Graham.

Grinning, you dig into the bag, seeing pastries like what Todd has delivered each morning. You look up at Graham. “Where did you get these from? They look like the ones Todd has delivered each morning at the shop!” you ask.

He grins. “I got them from the pastry shop that he gets his from. They asked why his shop was closed and then saw the note Rich left on the door this morning. They said to tell ye and Todd that they wish ye both a speedy recovery!” he says with a smile

You grin and take a bite of a strawberry scone and let out a happy little groan. “I love these ones! These and the doughnuts with the icing and the strawberry or cherry fillings! OOOooohhh they are the BEST!” you giggle.

There’s a knock at the door and a young lady is standing at the door with two big bouquets of flowers. “Excuse me Miss, but are you Harley?” she asks.

You nod. “Yes.”

She comes in and tells you, “These are for you. Where would you like them?” She asks.

Your jaw drops. One bouquet is two dozen red and pink roses with baby’s breath and purple lavender filler. The other is a bouquet of 6 yellow roses, brightly colored fuji mums and daisies that were colored brightly with food coloring.

Scarlett gets up and takes the bouquet of red and pink roses. She sets it down on the table and looks for a card. “Aaahhh! Here it is!” she says and hands you the card.

You open it up and see it’s from Richard. “For the love of my life. You mean the world to me, Sweetheart. I hope these brighten your day. I’m thinking about you & know I love you more than anything in the universe! Xoxo – Rich”

You grin and show it to Graham, Aiden & Scarlett. They all smile, and Scarlett puts the card back on the plastic stand and Graham takes the bouquet and puts it on the windowsill next to the other ones.

The delivery gal hands Scarlett the other big bouquet and then heads out to do more deliveries after you thank her for bringing them up.

Scarlett digs around in the bouquet and finds another card. She hands it to you, and you open it up to see it is from the Police Department that Alex, Todd and Jack worked for. It said, “Heard what happened, wishing you a speedy recovery! Our thoughts and prayers are with you! – Inspector Kathleen Walsh & your friends at the NYPD 19th Precinct.”

You look at Graham and Scarlett in surprise. “The police department sent me flowers?” Graham chuckles. “Apparently so Sweetheart!”

You shake your head in disbelief. “Well, that was nice!” you state.

They all nod. Graham takes the flowers and puts them on the windowsill as well. “You’re getting quite the collection, Sweetie!” Scarlett teases you.

You grin. “They’re making my room smell nice, that’s for sure!” you say, grinning.

Your doctor knocks on the door casing and then steps in. He talks with you for a bit and checks the wounds on your leg after shooing everyone out into the hall.

He asks you about all the scars on your legs and you explain they go all the way up onto your crotch. You tell him that the ones on your legs were from your last three boyfriends you had before meeting Richard. And you tell him the ones on your crotch were from the ex-boyfriend, Ben, who shot you. You ask him to make a note of you telling him that to put in your medical file. That you don’t want anyone thinking it was Richard who gave you them. You explain you never had reported the abuse from your ex boyfriends because of fear since the ex-boyfriends had all threatened you that if you told they’d go after you and your family. He nods in understanding and makes a note of it in your file.

He tells you that he doesn’t want you walking on the leg for a few days, and that you may use the crutches ONLY to get from your bed to the restroom in your room and then back to your bed for now. You nod. He asks if you need any stronger pain meds and you shake your head.

“I’m due for them when the nurse comes back with them. I told her I wanted to wait to take them till I had some breakfast in me first.” You reply.

He nods and tells you he will check in with you tomorrow morning then and tells you to have a good day.

Your friends come back in after the Doctor leaves and they have another two bouquets. You roll your eyes and giggle. “Now who are these from?” you ask.

Graham sets a small oblong flowerpot on the table with Hyacinths, tulips, daffodils and crocuses on the table in front of you. You grin and take a deep breath. “Oooohhh! Those smell wonderful!!!” you pull the card off the flower pick and read it. It’s from Captain Angel L. Figueroa Jr. & the NYPD 1st precinct and says: “Wishing you a speedy recovery, Harley! Our thoughts and prayers are with you as you recover!”

“Awwww! That’s sweet!” you say and put the card back on the flower pick.

Scarlett takes the planter and puts in on the shelf by the sink so you can smell them when people open the door to enter and exit.

The other bouquet is pink and white stargazer lilies and hot pink roses and lighter pink carnations with some greens. You look at the card and see it’s from Lee Pace. It reads: “Wishing you a speedy recovery and hope you and Phantom are doing well.”

“Oh! Those smell lovely too! It’s gonna smell like a flower shop in here!’ you giggle.

Graham and Aiden chuckle and Graham adds the flowers to your collection on the windowsill.

Scarlett looks at the time and nudges Aiden, who glances up at the clock and sees they need to get going to the studios. “We gotta get going, Harley. I gotta film some scenes this afternoon, and Scarlett’s gonna go check on the shop for you and Todd.” He tells you.

They both give you a hug and tell you they will see you later on. You wave goodbye and they head out.

The nurse comes in with your pain meds. “Are you ready for your meds, Harley?”

You nod and she gives them to you. You down them with your water and she makes a note in your chart on the hospital’s computer. Then she heads out after seeing if you needed anything.

You look at Graham and say, “Now what do we do?”

He chuckles. “Well, what would you like to do?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. Graham, can you tell me about your family? I don’t even know their names, you said your wife told you to tell me ‘welcome to the family’.” You said. “You must’ve been telling her about me.”

He chuckled. “Aye, Lass, I told her ‘bout you. How I met you, and how I was tryin’ to hook ya up with Rich. She wanted to see what ya looked like, so I sent her the pics I took.” He explained. “Didn’t want her worrying if the Papparazzi snuck photos of us when we all do stuff together.

Scarlet told me your parents died a few years ago and I mentioned it to Gwen… It was her idea, actually, to ‘adopt’ you, so to speak.” He giggled. Gwen is my wife. Our two daughters are Hope and Honor.” He tells you, “Honor was born in 2006 and Hope was born in 2012.” He says beaming with pride. “I’ll show you pics of them later.” He says. “They live in New Zealand where we have a house.” He tells you.

You look at him surprised. “I thought you were from Scotland, though?” you ask.

He chuckles. “I am, Lass, but I’ve lived all over the world. We decided to settle in New Zealand, though, after living there while we filmed The Hobbit.” He explained.

“Oh! I saw a lot of the bonus features on my Extended Edition DVD’s of the Hobbit. It looks absolutely wonderful! It’s on my bucket list of places to visit someday.” You tell him with a big grin.

He chuckles, “Well, Lass. I’m sure Rich wouldn’t bat an eye taking you to come visit us there. He loved it there as much as we did and considered buying property there, but he’s so busy with filming and such, he said he’d rather wait till he got older and started to slow down with work.” Graham tells you.

“Graham?” you ask.

“Yeah, Sweetheart?” he replies.

“I want to do something special for Rich, but I don’t know what to do. He doesn’t like to talk about himself, so trying to find out what kinds of things he likes, I’m finding is rather difficult. Do you think you could help me?” you ask. “I know he likes chocolate ice cream, wine, legos and reading. But that’s about it.”

Graham chuckles. “Yeah, he is an introvert and shy, so whenever people ask him personal questions, he tends to shy away from them.” He tells you. He gives you a few ideas of things Richard would like and suggests to just be observant, “You’ll learn more about him from just observing and listening, than from anything else, Lass.

He’s moody and grumpy sometimes, but don’t let it get to you. It’s just how he gets into characters he portrays. He’ll often take them home with him and struggle to let ‘em go. Maybe having you around will help ‘im with that, Lass.” Graham tells you.

“There’s so much I don’t know about the film industry.” You sigh. “I’ve never seen how one is made from start to finish. He asked if I’d come with him when he travels for the promotional stuff for the film too. I’ve never traveled very much tho. He said something about finding out the details for taking Phantom with too, so I’d feel safe.” You tell Graham.

Graham grins. “It would be nice for him to have ye with, Lass. I know I’d enjoy having you with us. My wife and kids don’t travel much with me. It’s such a long flight from New Zealand to the US and Europe that they don’t make it very often to join me for premieres. It’s a whirlwind of a time, and is exhausting, but it’s a lot of fun too. You get to meet a lot of people and just sit back, relax and talk about the film with interviewers. If you do come with, we’ll be sure ya are well taken care of.” He tells you.

You giggle and grin. “Graham, did you get my dress from Aiden’s? Don’t let Rich know anything about the dress. I don’t want him to see it or see me in it until he picks me up for the event! I want it to be a surprise!” you tell him.

He gives you a positively evil smirk and says, “Your wish, is my command, Sweetie. And yes, I picked it up from Aiden’s last night before I headed home. It’s in my closet in my bedroom, which he won’t dare go into. Scarlett said I should hang it up so it wouldn’t crease the velvet.” He tells you. “I’ll take ye to go have it altered to fit ye when they let ye outta here.” He says.

You grin and happily clap your hands. “I can’t wait!

Graham chuckles and rubs his beard, thinking.

“Graham, do you ever do Skype or Zoom or FaceTime your family? You’re always saying I remind you of your daughters.” You tell him. “I thought it would be nice to say hi to them and talk with them and your wife, if it was okay with you. I don’t know how the time differences work between there and here though.” You mention to him.

He glances up at the clock and you can see him working out the time differences in his head.

“Well, Lass, it’s about 1am there right now. Well, if ya can wait till around 3 or 4 pm our time this afternoon which should be able to give them time to get up and get ready, then we can give them a zoom call, we’ll say “Hi” and I’ll introduce ya to them!” he tells you.

“For now, though, what do ya want to do?” he asks. Phantom comes over and sniffs all the flowers on the windowsill and ‘wuffs’ at them.

“What? Don’t you like all my pretty flowers, Phantom?” you ask. He chuffs and comes walking over to your bedside. Graham smiles and gives him a good scratch. “Do ya need to go outside, Boy?” he asks.

Phantom gives a short yip and Graham stands up. “I’ll go take him out to do his business, then we’ll be right back, Sweetheart. Did someone take him out last night or this morning?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe the officer had one of the nurses take Phantom out. You’d have to ask him.” You tell Graham.

He nods and clips the leash on Phantom after he adjusts the service jacket. They head out and Graham stops to talk with the officer. The officer tells him he had one of the nurses take Phantom outside when he needed to go to the bathroom, and she brought him right back up. He did say they played with the rope toy for a bit having a tug of war.

Graham chuckled. “All right. Well, we’ll be back in a bit.” He tells the officer.

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judgement-free-sideblog · 4 years

Text

Ghosts from the rainforest

Captain James Conrad x Reader

Summary: A simple rescue mission will bring him back to a place full of nightmares, and maybe this time he could find redemption. Situated in 1975, 2 years after the events of Skull Island.

Warnings: Violence, blood, wounds, mentions of war, cursing, implied smut, smoking, angst.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

I finally manage to write the end to this tiny fic, I hope you like it, and I'm going to start on my ideas for a Jonathan Pine adventure, but I haven't decide yet.

Chapter 7: Fever [Final]

The helicopter was already on motion, and the rescue crew that Brooks had sent for you were charging everything for the trip. The guys were excited to finally going back home, the Celebes Sea was ahead of you in the military base you were staying, and waiting in the Pacific the majestic USS Constellation (CV-64) waiting to take all of you home.

Home? A country that had make more damage and taken everything from you, your family, and had force you to live away to mend some of the atrocities they had committed in the name of freedom.

"Not looking so charming today are we?" You said to him once he walked in your room to pick up your bags, you have finally stop the hostilities after he had offered you his shoulder to cry while you mourned Shukri on his funeral and after all the physical torture he had endured so you could safely leave Borneo.

He had been clear about letting you stay if that was what you wanted, and even when the rest of the crew asume you were coming back to USA, he knew you would have to say goodbye sooner or later, so instead of telling him all the things your heart was keeping from him you kept teasing him and pretending the chopper was not waiting for him.

"I have a minor headache love, but it's okay, are you ready to say goodbye?" He said and you noted how his temple had a few wrinkles, he was trying to smile over the pain in his head "It's a shame you don't come with us, I have a lot of things I wanted to show you" he grabbed your hand and all your alarms started to scream.

"Conrad are you okay?" Those words were all you have hoped for, however the radiant heat from his skin told you he was not exactly fine. "Dear God you are burning up" You said touching his head and looking desperately for a thermometer in your belongings.

"I like you too doctor, but why don't we wait until we get to the ship, we can share a bunk bed" He was definitely not himself.

"103° damn it Conrad!" You said, and for some oddly reason remember the night he told you about Randa and how much he complained about mosquitoes while he was dressing "Look at me, I'm not kidding, did you take Chloroquine before we leave Malaysia? I told you guys you had to..."

He nodded negative, and before he could speak he simply throw up in the nearest trash bin, making you suspect of the worst, specially since all the medicine was now gone and the only viable solution now was the aircraft carrier in the middle of the Pacific waiting for you.

"Also you have perfect legs you know that? I could spend my life sleeping on them." He kept saying things like that while you helped him to the heliport "Come here princess your prince charming needs your love" he said trying to kiss you.

"Later dear, preferably when you're not dying or smelling like vomit" you tried to stop him.

"Well you didn't mind me covered in dirt and sweat" He tried again but he stopped to scream "Reg! I love you man, you are like a son to me" and also tried to kiss the boy on the forehead.

"What happened to the Captain?" Slivko asked concerned once you help him to board the chopper while carrying his luggage and your medical bag.

"I have no idea, but I'm afraid it might be Malaria" you said bluntly and all of them looked concerned at you, while he vomited again "Do you have medical equipment here?" You asked the pilot and he only raised his thumb while you make sure he was steady on the helicopter floor, and almost didn't feel the machine take off while you tried to put an IV on his arm.

After one hour that felt like ten you could no longer see the island, only the immensity of the Pacific, and growing in the horizon the USS Constellation, even when you despised war and everything it represented the enormous carrier was enough to let you speechless, specially when a team of nurses and a doctor was already with a stretcher waiting for him.

"It's going to be ok James" you told him holding his hand while the experts rushed him inside.

"You really like men to die quite literally for you right?" He tried to joke, fighting the impulse of vomiting again, "Hey it's okay, I have to take care of you remember?" He smiled and you hold his hand trying to not get on the way of the medical staff, but he was too weak and fall asleep.

After they had stabilized his temperature, and take samples of his blood to determine the pathogen they let you in, the beds inside the medical bay of the ship were oddly spacious, and you could be sited next to him without any other person listening.

"Y/N?" He asked opening his beautiful eyes, "Hey it's okay love, I'm feeling better" He said and tried to reach for the glass of water on the table.

"Let me" You said and put it closer to him, "I know, once they identify the plasmodium they will know what is the best treatment for you, they take test and interrogate all of us, don't tell him I told you but Reles almost passed out when he saw the needle " He attempt to laugh but was still weak so he only smiled.

"Well is rewarding seen you on my dead bed, I'm quite honored, tears look oddly beautiful on you" He said and a small smile form in your lips.

"And you are still delirious" You said looking for a piece of cloth, and cold water from the sink to put on his head. "Here, try to rest, I'll come see you later" you told him but before your hand could leave his head he hold you still "What?"

"I might be dying, so you owe me at least listening me like adults" He said forcing you to stay next to him.

"You are not dying" you said trying to sound like it didn't matter and failing miserably "you are not, but fine. Let's talk" you concede.

"I'm sorry" he started contrary to what you had expected. "I had no idea how you looked before we met, and i was under no circumstances trying to seduce you to lure you back to America" you blush and regret your decision to stay by his side.

"I'm sorry too" You responded after a while "You have done so much helping me, even when half of the trouble I caused was preventable if I haven't trusted in the wrong people." You said and he hold your hand softly, he didn't want to hear about that, and you knew it so you took all the courage you have to continue. "And I'm sorry I over reacted, I am so used to people coming to me with second intentions that I just pushed you away to avoid getting hurt, and I just end up making other people hurt you"

"I'm sorry I make you come to the ship, I knew you wanted to stay" he said sincerely.

"It's okay, I have to make sure you stay alive, you know for the boys, maybe working at Monarch with you and Brooks won't be so bad"

"Well you can always run away from us in Hawaii, or maybe... we could run away together" He gave you a pleading look, and for moment you could imagine that life, keep running away, by his side, the soldier that never came home, and the idealist doctor, and keep leaving ghosts in every island, trying to find happiness apart from the world, but together. He kissed you, but this time it wasn't a lusty hunger kiss, nor passionate and angry like before, it was reassuring and you knew no matter what your answer was, he was on your side, for the first time you had someone on your side "So what do you say?"

But you couldn't answer because out of nowhere your stomach make you nauseous and you rush to the toilet to empty its content.

"Are you okay dear?" He screamed from the bed "I'm trying bloody hard to not take this as criticism"

"I'm okay, but I'm going to check your tests and start taking the pills before I end up confessing my sins on the fever like you" you said and walked out of the bathroom to saw him "We can talk later" you assure him.

You marched inside the medical office and started to look in the cabinets, when the young doctor that had received Conrad walked in.

"I'm sorry, I start feeling the symptoms and I thought it would be better if I start on the chloroquine before it gets worse" you excuse yourself.

"That would be great, if any of you had Malaria" he said offering you a seat that you take since he speak with a Texan accent and an authoritarian voice that made up from his young face "But we test all of you and what our SAS friend has is more likely a stomach flu from some bad shrimp, I was just on my way to tell him." He said and you sigh in relief, but also concerned about your own symptoms

"Oh that's great, but I start barfing too, and I didn't had the shrimp last night" you said and he took out a small file with your name that the nurses had put together earlier.

"Well it may be motion sickness, we are in a boat after all, or maybe... you told the nurse you didn't remember when was your last period?" He said looking the file.

"Well we have been in the jungle almost a month so I wasn't exactly counting" you tried to joke.

"The change of environment can trigger the vomit, or if you had sex in the past three weeks you might be pregnant" He smiled and all the weight of the world fall into your shoulders instantly. "In any case you should rest and let alone my medical cabinets, go with nurse Matthews she will give you some vitamins" he said but you were not longer listening.

No, it couldn't be that, right? You tried to convince your mind, but deep down you knew it was true, what would he think? He was a soldier, a man of the field, not a father, and you were obviously not a mother, what will happen now? Now that he wanted to run away in the world next to you, a baby had a place on that plan?.

Two days later Conrad was out of the medical bay and trying to approach you, offering you a fresh start from the afternoon you pause all those weeks ago in Malaysia.

But the stolen kisses on the hallways, and his nightly incursions on your cabin only made it harder for you to find a way to come clean about your news, even when the idea had already sink in your mind, because it was a baby, and it was his baby, how could you not be happy and grateful? Yet you haven't say anything to him.

Four days later he had spend the whole day walking on the deck with you, like if the planes and choppers were an appropriate sighting for a date.

"We'll be in Hawaii soon" He started "If you want to go out for a walk in the morning and get lost in the jungle we have to star planning now" he said and you were looking at the ocean trying to make up your mind.

"Maybe... I was wondering about the work you do at Monarch, maybe I will give it a chance" you start not sure how the whole we are having a baby situation will fit in your speech "I mean if you want to travel the world it might help to have a paying job for a while" you were nervously touching your hands.

"Of course, also when the baby comes I would like to have a proper house for him to be... or she, I don't care you know? as long as they're healthy" he said and you nodded yes.

"Yeah of course... what??" You look at him and he had the most radiant smile on his face, and he was clearly holding his laugh and apparently tears, of joy? "How do you know?

"Well nurse Matthews saw us kissing and then she complained about how Children this days keep having children out of wedlock" he said and you hide your face on your hands.

"I was really going to tell you... for real is just..." but you didn't have the words in you, and the tears were running on your face

"I know, it's fine, I mean is a little soon but if I'm honest I'm tired of running, and after all we've been trough I couldn't imagine a single person to share this experience with" He said cleaning the tears from your face.

"You sure?" You asked again, needing to hear it from his mouth.

"I'm sure, I fall in love with you when I saw you scaring local vendors in Malaysia and then fighting guerilla liders in Borneo, I even loved you when you vomit after kissing me for real, I'm completely taken by you Y/N"

"I fall in love with you too James" you said, and his expression got serious for a moment. "What?"

"Nothing, is just that I'm going to miss Prince Charming" he said giving you again the disarming smile that had started all this adventure.

The end

@damalseer

@kinghiddlestonanddixon (I hope you like the end)

#captain james conrad x reader #james conrad x reader #captain james conrad x you #james conrad imagine #captain james conrad #james conrad #kong skull island #kong skull island fanfiction #reg slivko #joe reles #glenn mills #tom hiddleston

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certifiedskywalker · 5 years

Text

The Person I Love - Klaus Hargreeves

Ever since you met Klaus Hargreeves, you knew you were in it for the long haul. You didn’t care about his past or his powers; you only wanted him. But when drugs begin to consume him, you’re left with a choice. Get him the help he needs and miss him or watching him kill himself slowly. You love him too much to watch him suffer.

AN: Okay, she’s a long one!. Any feedback/suggestions you have would be greatly appreciated!

Warnings: Angst, cursing, drug abuse (it comes with the territory), and slight sexual joke/implication(?)not really though

You had never known a sober version of Klaus. As much as you hated to dwell on the thought, you were certain he was high when he met you. How could someone like him smile at you like he did without being influenced by chemicals coursing through his veins. Perhaps it was meeting you, speaking to you, that upturned the corners of his mouth, but the rational part of you denied that as fact. However, in your darkest moments, you liked to think that smile was unaltered by any sort of pill. It was what made the nights less difficult and the days not so long. That thought made it all worth it when you woke up next to him, that same smile on his lips as he reclined in the hospital bed.

“Does this gown make me look fat?” “Never,” you say, smiling right back at him. The smile fades for a moment as you rub at sleep still clouding your eyes. By now, you were used to falling asleep in uncomfortable chairs; however, despite your experience, your body retained each ache. “You didn’t have to stay,” Klaus says softly, eyes taking in your tired expression. You slumped in the chair, turning your head to stare at him with an all too loving gaze. “You know that I do,” you hum in reply, “wouldn’t have it any other way.” It was a lie. Both of you knew that. You would love to have Klaus sober, to know that he was safe with the temptation of drugs behind him and the threat of death a far off cry. “Careful,” Klaus tsked, “grow any more honorable and you’ll turn into Luther.” You smile at the mention of his brother. You hadn’t actually met the man but, from what Klaus told you, his overbearing sense of morality was stupefying.

“So, what happened this time?” Your question prompted silence from the man before you. He tore his green eyes away from your face and fiddled with his hands that rested in his lap. The IV stuck into his hand shifted with each movement and you wondered if Klaus had grown too comfortable with the feeling of needles under his skin.

“Ya know, the usual,” he brushed off your worry with practiced ease, “overdid it. You know I was never any good with fractions and conversions.” Klaus chuckled, hoping his laughter would coax a grin your lips again. When it didn’t, Klaus knew something within you had been altered by this hospital stay. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” You ask, eyes widening now with shock. “Klaus, what’s wrong is that the nurses here are on a friendly, first name basis with you. What’s wrong is that we have had more sleep overs in this room than we have had at our own homes.” You were standing now, trying to distract yourself from the tears that were beginning to gather in your eyes.

“Y/N,” Klaus started to speak, but for the first time in his life, no words came to mind. You frowned at his new found quiet and continued. You stepped up to the foot of the bed so you could look directly at him as you spoke.

“This is the fifth time you’ve told me you ‘overdid it’ and I’m starting to…” you bit your lip at the thought and Klaus sat up in his bed. You turned your gaze back to him, taking in his wild mess of chocolate curls and the guilty concern written across his face. “I’m starting to think that maybe you’re doing it on purpose.”

Klaus’ jaw snapped shut and any words he had gathered died on the tip of his tongue. His eyes took in your form, from your baggy clothes that told him that, when the doctor called you, you had been ready for bed, and to the bags under your shining eyes. All signs of your worry and lack of true rest; a privilege you lost when you put your name down as Klaus’ emergency contact. You never told him that you did that, or how it felt more like a marriage certificate as you signed your very soul over to him and his bad choices. What hurt him, hurt you in ways he could never fathom. Not even now.

You sniffled and the sound filled the air around you. Still stuck in stunned silence, Klaus could only watch as you strode over to the chair. Fishing under the cushion, you pulled out pamphlets from the check in desk and the papers you had been given. You handed them out to him, your hands shaking when his fingers brushed against yours to grab them.

“That’s the doctor’s recommended treatment plan,” you murmured as Klaus trailed his gaze over the papers. His eyes caught the title of one of the foldables you had stole from the desk, reading ‘Steady Oaks Rehabilitation Center’. It was then he turned his head to look at you again. Green eyes become glassy as he stared up at you.

“I don’t-”

“It’s just something to consider, Klaus,” you said softly, too tired to be any louder than a whisper. “Let me know what you decide.” You leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. His skin felt cold when it brushed against your lips and you couldn’t tell if that was the cause of the shiver down your spine or the overwhelming love you felt for him shooting through your body.

“I’ll call you,” Klaus said swiftly, as if he were frightened that you were going to leave before he could give you any semblance of reassurance. You gave him a half-hearted smile and nodded.

“I’ll be waiting,” you replied before slipping out of his hospital room, the image of that first smile dancing in front of your eyes. He watched you go, eyelids fluttering in a vain attempt to quell the tears in gathering in his eyes. With the hopes of distracting himself Klaus opened the pamphlet for the rehabilitation center. A pen fell from it’s folds and into his lap.

Looking from where it fell, Klaus saw a blue header underlined in dark ink. ‘Coping with a Loved One’s Addiction’, bolded in it’s print. A sudden and violent sob shook Klaus’ body. His shoulder sagged and his face contorted in pain. Now he knew; he knew just how much his hurt had hurt you. Not even Ben had to tell him.

Klaus didn’t call for a while. You waited nonetheless, loyal as a dog and never not consistent. Whenever you were home you’d spare glances at the phone hung on the wall of your apartment, just waiting. When you woke and the receiver was flashing you’d be sent into a panic. You’d listen to every message, waiting for the familiar, lyrical tones of Klaus’ voice asking what you were up to and if you wanted any company.

Not once did you hear his recorded greeting and when you tried to call him, the line beeped once until it cut off. Silently, you prayed to any and all powerful beings that Klaus was only behind on phone bills not, like his landline, dead. The only shred of hope you clung to was that the hospitals had not called you either. However, that one solace did nothing to dull the ache in your heart. You missed Klaus dearly and desperately.

On one particularly rain-ridden day, your longing was nearing the point of madness. Worried had plagued your heart for close to three weeks now. While it wasn’t unusual for Klaus to disappear for long stretches of time, he always called. Always. You were about to call the police, the hospital, even some of his family members when your phone rang.

Rushing towards it, you saw that the number was unknown. A strange combination of numbers that was foreign to you ran across the caller ID. A new wave of anguish washed over you. You picked up the phone, pressing it to your ear in the hopes that whoever was on the other end had something good to tell you.

“Hello?” You asked bitterly, unable to hide your disappointment. A few long moments of silence passed as you heard muffled shuffling noises on the other end. “Hello?”

“H-Hey you.” The voice was unmistakable and it made your whole being tremble with shocks of emotion. “Sorry I haven’t called. These piss-hats don’t allow phone calls until ‘the patient shows a growing sense of responsibility and stability’. What morons, right?”

“Klaus!” You said, tears flowing from your eyes and you giggled at his impression. He chuckled on the other end and you could almost hear that smile of his.

“Y/N!”

“I’ve missed you,” you gushed into the phone, leaning your shoulder up against the wall. You twirled the coiled cord between your fingers as you sank into the sound of Klaus’ voice. “So you checked yourself in?”

“Y-Yeah, yeah, I did, I just,” Klaus mumbled the rest, making it hard for you to pick up.

“What?”

“I checked myself in, yeah.” He said quickly and you noted the slight panic in his tone.

“What did you say after that?” You pressed, the phone against your ear became your life line as you waited for his reply. All you could think of was Klaus, standing against the wall of the center he was in, smiling like he did. You missed that smile.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Are you hearing things, Y/N? I sure hope not, because that’s my thing.” You giggled softly, shaking your head at his humor.

“Klaus,” you groaned teasingly, your back fully resting on the wall of your apartment. You heard a sharp intake of breath on the other end, the kind that told you that what you said shocked your friend somehow. “Klaus?”

“Say it again, please,” his voice was almost a whimper. The sound of it made your heart ache while goosebumps simultaneously rose along your arms.

“Klaus,” you repeat, in a lower whisper this time. He sighed on the other end and you could almost feel his breath tickling your neck like how it did when he whispered a joke in your ear.

“I miss you,” he keened, “so much, I didn’t know it was possible.” Your breath caught in your throat at his words and you longed to be with him in the moment. To see him, not in your mind, but in reality; be able to reach out and touch him, give him comfort.

“I miss you too,” you murmur and that’s enough for him. It has to be. His phone call time is running out, the woman in her uniform tapping her wrist with a scowl.

“Keep missing me,” he begged, “I have to go Y/N. I’ll call you again when I can.”

“Klaus, wait,” you begin but he keeps going.

“Oh and tell my landlord to suck a dick, okay?” You stifle a laugh.

“Okay, but hold on,” you start again but he stops you once more.

“I gotta go, Y/N,” he says quickly, but he pauses after a split second before adding, “I love you.” Your mouth opened but no words came out, only his name again. Like a prayer, it fell from your lips, a promise that rang in both of your ears.

“Klaus,” your voice is low, quiet, timid from his admittance.

“I know,” he replied, pressing his forehead to the wall next to him. He liked to imagine you were doing the same in your apartment. Maybe you were even wearing one of the shirts he had left there from a long ago stay on your couch. He hated that couch.

“I lov-” The line went dead before you could finish and you felt your very life force drain. Angrily, you hung the phone up on the receiver with tears welling up in your eyes. “I love you too,” you whispered with a sad smile, “I love you too.”

On the other end, Klaus was staring daggers at the woman who had plucked the phone from his grasp. He opened his mouth, a sense of rage he saved mostly towards his father threatening to spill out from his lips. The woman only huffed at his expression, raising an eyebrow in wait. Klaus bit his tongue, knowing that if he acted out now they could keep him here longer.

“Well,” he said once he had taken a few breaths, “that was quite rude.” The woman grumbled something under her breath before pushing him along. As they walked down the narrow hallway, Klaus’ mind exchanged the blue painted walls for those of your apartment. If he tried hard enough he could see you in your kitchen, swaying slightly to the beat of the music playing from the nearby record player.

It was a sight he had seen many times before. On those nights where he had stayed over, back pressed to the couch in your cramped living room, he would pretend to still be sleeping. His eyes would be barely open, just enough to catch your movements in tune with the music. The image brought a smile to Klaus’ lips as he was led back to his room. As his door shut behind him, he silently hoped you were smiling because you loved him too.

It was cold the day Klaus was to be released. Nonetheless, you stood outside the rehab center, nervously picking at your nails. It was a habit that you had adopted from Klaus. Now you knew the action spawned from his symptoms of withdrawal. Puzzles pieces of his life started to fall together before you, amplified by his time away.

In your waking hours, thoughts of Klaus consumed you. You thought back to any and every memory you had of him in between hoping he was eating and wishing he were with you. The phones calls were all too rare and much too brief for your mind to cease thinking about his occupation of your heart. What made it all the more wonderfully worse was that the calls didn’t end with the same longing ‘I love you’ as the first one had.

You had rationalized that Klaus said it by mistake, caught up in the heat of the moment, or meant in a way that was purely platonic. From the moment you had met him, you knew Klaus was full of undying compassion. His loyalty went without question and was nothing but constant; unless the hunger for his next high rendered him powerless. So it wouldn’t surprise you if he had meant his words without the punctuation of romance. For, from the moment you had met him, Klaus was never in a relationship for very long.

It was that alone that held you back from telling Klaus how you truly felt about him. You didn’t want to lose him in the same way so many others had. Instead, you made yourself comfortable as a dear friend, the friend that gave Klaus a place to stay when his newest partner told him to get lost. It was similar to the present moment. Once he emerged from the rehabilitation center, Klaus was going to call your couch home for a while.

The thought of having him around again made you smile to yourself, warming your cheeks against the Autumn chill that had taken over New York. It was clear things would be different, Klaus would need extra attention, but you were willing to give him that. Hell, you were eager to. You peered at the clock, biting at the inside of your cheek as you calculated just how much longer it would be until Klaus was by your side again.

Your brows furrowed as you did the math, wondering if perhaps the clock was a few minutes too fast. A few people washed out onto the sidewalk you stood upon, blocking your view slightly. With a groan, you craned your neck until you could see the time again. Five minutes until you could see him again. Could that be right?

“And I thought I was bad with time, ha!” Klaus’ voice made you spin so quickly on your heels that you reached out for him to stabilize yourself. “Whoa, easy!”

His long fingers wrap around your wrists, holding you still as you take him in. The sight of him fills your soul like air in your lungs, like you need him. His bright green eyes scan over your features, that signature smile playing on his pink lips. One of your hands lifts from his arm and trails up to grasp his chin. The facial hair he had been growing out was styled, making him look older than he did when you last laid eyes on him.

“I like this,” you said, rubbing your thumb over the hair on his chin. Klaus let out a breathy chuckle so light he matched the tone of his eyes.

“Hoped that you would,” he teased, his teeth curling his bottom lip a moment as he took in your face. Cheeks and nose rosy from the breeze, your neck wrapped in a scarf he had stolen for you long ago. It had been too long. “You’re the only one worth looking good for.”

Silence rests between your bodies, everything you both want to say read like poems in your eyes. You feel stinging behind your eyes as you peer into Klaus’ green ones. Carefully, as if he were broken glass, you skirt your thumb across his cheek. His breath hitches for a moment and he feels that pulling in his heart; that same feeling he left whenever you left the room.

“I’ve missed you,” you say at the same time, prompting a mess of laughing sobs from your throats. You only shake your head, wrapping your arms over his shoulder and leaning into his frame. Instinct falls over Klaus as his arms find their places on your waist. He presses his face into the crook of your neck, closing his eyes when the smell of your soap and the feeling of your body on his overwhelms his senses.

You held each other for a while. People gawked at the sight of you two as they passed by. The sidewalk seems to grow more crowded as Klaus clung to you tightly. A few more minutes go by until Klaus pulls away from you. Despite the smile playing on his plush lips, the glimmer that had shone in his eyes seemed to fade.

“I am absolutely starved,” he groans, patting his stomach to emphasize it’s emptiness. You grin at him, having missed his childish demeanor. He smiles at the sight of yours and extends his hand to you. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” you play along, taking his cold hand in yours. His finger’s intertwine with yours as if it was where they were meant to be. As you start to walk, Klaus recalls the wonderful and colorful people had he met. While he talks, you spare a glance up at him. His curls bounce with each step and the lines in his face deepen as he tries to impersonate one of the other patients he had met. He was still your Klaus only, hopefully, sober.

When you don’t laugh at his sorry attempt of a baritone voice, Klaus turns his gaze on you. His smile holds true even as he stares at you with slight confusion. Lips parted and eyes, with slightly dilated pupils, appear more like a soft, yellow-green in the sunlight. You swear you had seen a puppy in the park one day with the same expression.

“What?” He asked, nudging his shoulder against your as you both continue to walk. He lifts a hand to pull his eyelid away from one of his eyes, a twisted grin on his features. “Is there something in my eye?”

You stifle a laugh, shaking your head at the goof of a man beside you. “No, just good to have you back.”

“It’s good to be back,” Klaus agrees, his tone falling into one more serious as he gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. You both round the corner of the street and soon, Griddy’s Donuts comes into your line of sight.

“I don’t see why we had to come home to have tea. Don’t they have tea at Griddy’s?” You ask, reaching into your cupboard for the stash of tea you had kept. Finding the right brew, you pulled two mugs down as well, setting it all out on the counter. You glance over at Klaus who, despite being in your apartment before, wandered about your small living room like a weary traveler.

He liked the way you had said ‘home’, as if it was shared. As if you had both lived there together for years and, in a sense, Klaus could argue that you had. Nights he spent sprawled out on your couch, whining about everything and anything while you listened. You always listened. Home, he thought, he could get used to that.

“They do,” Klaus says finally, turning away from your book shelf to smile at you. “But I wouldn’t wish that rat poison on my worst enemy. Tea shouldn’t smell like monkey shit.” You giggle as you pour water into the kettle. Klaus didn’t realize how much he had missed the sound of your laughter.

“Good to know,” you muse. Setting the kettle on the stove, you start a low flame beneath it. As you waited to see some steam, Klaus turned his attention back to your bookshelf. His eyes skimmed over the titles of works he was horribly unfamiliar with. It wasn’t until he reached the few bottom shelves when he felt more knowledgeable.

“Your vinyl’s are as dusty as my father’s closet,” Klaus teased, pulling at a few of the cardboard sleeves to read the artist’s name. “I should know,” he added, “I spent a lot of time in closets.”

“I haven’t used it in a while,” you explained. You strode out of your tiny kitchen and over to where Klaus had crouched down. His fur coat brushed the hardwood floor of your apartment, nearly concealing his sneakers from your view. He looked so small as you stood over him.

“Why ever not? There’s always time for music!” He exclaimed, standing with a record in his hand. You didn’t get a chance to look at the title or tell him that, ever since he had checked himself into rehab and out of your life, all the music had bled from your life. Any song you had dared to listen to reminded you of his smile and brought you to tears. You had cried enough with just the crushing feeling of missing Klaus, so you figured it was best to give music a rest until he returned.

“I was just busy, I guess,” you mumble as Klaus slid the record from it’s sleeve. With nimble fingers, he placed the disk on the player and set the needle. When he faces you again, the side of his mouth is quirked upwards in a shy smile that was only reserved for you.

“Too busy to spare a dance?” He extends his hand to you as the first few notes of Elton John’s ‘Rocketman’ crackled on the record player. “I’ll lead,” he added, “if that helps.”

“Says the man with two left feet,” you joked before taking his hand. Klaus chuckled, pulling you to the middle of your living room so you would both had more space.

“You only say that ‘cause you’re jealous.” As he spoke, Klaus intertwined your fingers with his once more and rested his other hand just above your hip. Even through your clothes, you could feel the coldness of his fingertips.

“Hm, me jealous? I don’t think so,” you jeered back, placing your own hand on his upper arm as Klaus began to waltz. Your bodies moved together as if they were never parted. Klaus smiled at you wickedly and dared to take a sneaky step closer to you. Your face went pink at the action, his proximity to you making your heart beat even faster.

“Then why do you look so flustered, my dear?” Klaus’ tone drips with smugness when the pet name slips over his lips. He only called you ‘dear’ when he wanted something. You could remember the first time it had happened a few months into your friendship. Klaus had pulled you to a parade of some sort in the city in July. The sun was beating down on everyone and you were taking a drink from your water bottle when he spoke up.

“Can I steal a sip, my dear?” The name had sent the butterflies nesting in your stomach into a frenzy. You couldn’t remember now if you had even replied to his question. All you did recall is handing him the bottle and Klaus throwing a skinny arm over your shoulders.

That was the same day you realized you were falling for your friend. Klaus looked so carefree as he danced down the street, following the brightly colored floats with music blaring from their speakers. He had asked you to dance then too. Both of you had made absolute fools of yourselves but even when he wasn’t trying, Klaus made it look graceful, easy. It was so easy to be with him.

“Where’d you go?” Klaus’ new question pulled you back from your reflection. His dark brows were knitted in slight concern and you felt the hand he had your hip rub against your side in an attempt to bring you back to the present.

“No where,” you said, giving him a smile, “I was just thinking.” Klaus huffed, his expression losing it’s rare face of worriment.

“That’s awfully dangerous.” You nodded, biting your lower lip as you debated in your mind to tell him. To tell him how much you had thought about him while he was gone, how much you really loved him and ask if he loved you.

“Yeah,” you murmured, “it is sometimes.” Klaus must have sensed the change of mood because he dropped his hand from yours. Soon it found its place on your other hip and was pulling you even closer to him. To press away any space between your bodies, you wrapped your arms over his shoulders and around his slim neck. Your head now rested against his chest and you could hear the quick, steady beat of his heart.

“Then don’t think,” Klaus murmured, his breath stirring strands of your hair.

“That’s easier said than it is done,” you replied with a sigh. Hoping to hide from your own thoughts and Klaus’ field of vision, you pressed your face deeper against his chest.

“Drugs help,” he said, so nonchalantly it scared you. You pulled away and gave him a look of fear. Klaus took in your wide eyes and parted lips, realizing he had gone too far. Before he could apologize you spoke up.

“Are you still using?” You didn’t know if you wanted him to tell you quickly or slowly. If he had to think it over, he was using, but if he answered too fast he could be lying. Every idea tormented your brain in a barrage of guilt and annoyance. All you wanted was a moment, untainted, with him.

“Y/N,” Klaus started, stepping close to you once more with his hands reaching for you waist. You hadn’t realized you had pushed yourself so far away from him. “I’m not using.”

“So it’s just you?” You asked, leaning into his renewed touch.

“Well, you’re gonna have to be more specific on that.” You cocked your head to the side and Klaus smiled at your confusion. “Ben is here. Luckily this place isn’t haunted.” You sighed and pinched his shoulder before falling against his chest again.

“Hi Ben,” you said softly, eyes skirting around your living room as if by chance, you could see his spectral form. Klaus laughed suddenly and you felt him shake his head.

“He says ‘hi’ too,” he mumbled something afterwards, directed towards Ben, and you smiled.

“And something else, I presume?” Klaus exhaled through his nose and glanced down you in his arms. Swaying to the sound of Elton John’s voice, you looked so soft. Klaus nodded to your question before sinking into your warmth and the lyrics that filled the room.

“What did he say?”

“Oh you know,” Klaus scoffed, trailing off in the hopes you would drop the topic. Klaus peered over his shoulder and his eyes found Ben. He stood in your kitchen, shaking his head at the sight of you both. Klaus lifted a hand from the small of your back and gestured for his brother to go away. Ben sighed and walked down the hallway of your apartment.

“I actually don’t know,” you teased, “that’s why you’re here.”

“Here to act as the conduit in which you flirt with my dead brother? I knew it,” Klaus said, his voice sad, over-dramatically so. “And here I thought you truly loved me. Y/N, you’re cold hearted.”

“I do,” you said quietly, with a tone of voice that dripped with a sincerity that cut through Klaus’ playful show.

“What?” He sounded genuinely confused at your words and looked the part too when you pulled yourself away from his chest to look into his eyes. The vibrant green was darker now in the low light of your apartment.

The question hovered between the two of you for a while longer. Your mind was racing, wandering through every possible outcome that your next few words could bring about. Klaus, on the other hand, wasn’t thinking at all. One of his hands trailed up from your waist to your cheek. The skin was soft to the touch and it took every ounce of will power Klaus had in him not to kiss you then and there. He wanted to kiss you so desperately but, for once in his life, he was ready to wait.

“I do, love you,” you breathed out, as if the words flowed straight from your heart and through your mouth. Klaus’ green eyes seemed to sparkle at your words and the smile that graced his lips sent a wave of adoration over the entirety of your being.

“I love you too,” he said, his voice quiet. It was as if he were a child on the playground, telling his best friend a long kept secret. “Over the phone I meant it. I couldn’t stand not seeing you when I wanted to. I wanted to see the person I love,” he brushed his fingers over your cheek, “and now I can.”

“So poetic, was that Keats? No, wait. It was Dickinson, wasn’t it?” You ask teasingly, prompting Klaus to chuckle. You had never heard him lay it on so thickly before; at least not when the subject of his affections was you.

“You know I never paid attention in literature class,” he leaned a little closer to you. “I always thought, why read poetry when you can make it yourself.” His body was now flush with your own, his hand holding your jaw now. His words melted you into his touch and you found yourself leaning up towards him.

“You should share more often,” you vex, pleased with the sudden mask of confidence that now rested on your features. You weren’t entirely sure where it came from, but you were happy with the results nonetheless. “Maybe I will,” Klaus beamed, his forehead now resting against your own. A few stray brown curls tickled your skin, but you didn’t pay much mind to them. You only hum in response as the music began to fill the quiet between you. Eager, you craned your neck upwards, silently granting Klaus the permission he had been waiting for.

Full of want and unhindered passion, Klaus pressed his lips to yours roughly. You expected nothing less than the rawness that made up his existence. He was himself with you, no drugs required. Your hands slipped into his hair, tugging lightly at the strands as Klaus held your close to him. His lips were soft, softer than you ever imagined.

Testing the waters, Klaus grazed the tip of his tongue against your bottom lip. Bending to his will, your mouth parted and the kiss deepened. His hand on your cheek traveled back down to your waist, the other squeezed at your hip. Just as Elton John’s voice faded out, the whistling of the kettle on the stove reached your ears.

“Fuck the tea,” Klaus mumbled against your lips as you started to pull away. His green eyes were dark and lips more of a red color after the bruising kiss you had shared. His gaze danced across your features and he could feel every fiber of his body screaming for you. “Better yet, fuck m-” Klaus began but you pecked his lips again to quiet him.

“You’re the one who wanted the tea,” you pointed out. Klaus watched at you pulled away from his lips, a smile resting on your features. He could only imagine he wore the same expression, if not more dopey and messy.

“I actually want you, the tea was simply a diversion,” he explained, following you into your cramped kitchenette. He studied you as you turned the stove off and prepared the tea bags to steep. The domestic sight sent a shiver down Klaus’ spine. It was a scene he could grow used to seeing. He heard a cough suddenly and he peered down the hallway.

“I actually wanted the tea,” Ben grumbled, but he gave his brother a thumbs up. Ben had done the same thing the day Klaus had met you. Klaus could remember Ben poking at his stunted courage, trying to get him to go up and speak to you. He was glad in that moment, happy for the curse that his father had called a gift. Now, Klaus smiled at his brother. Turning his gaze back to you, Klaus saw a glimmer of possibility shining in your eyes.

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