#(and it's a fixed duration position even though the duration is in years) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jjkpls · 4 years ago

Text

the wishlist (m) - 5

“She broke up with me.”

> genre : Angst, fluff

> pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (f)

> words : 4k

> content/warnings : back at it again w/ the bff2l; one sided love, lot of pining; explicit language; ambiguous infidelity; jjk heartbroken & crying; some wholesome flashbacks to make you swoon

previous - next

The next box arrives about a month or so later. You haven’t seen Jungkook in a while. He had been out of town, hopping from shop to shop, completing a series of long-awaited guest positions.

He’s kept you up with his days and his appointments as much as he could, sending you dorky selfies, little videos of city landscapes you’ve never seen before, and exhausted late vocal notes made in tiny, with dragged on, mumbled words, to wish you luck and send you some courage for work.

You did not expect that the day you’ll meet again, he’d be so different from the Jungkook you prefer and left a month ago.

It takes you a few seconds to realize. At first, you’re preoccupied with the sudden set of needles stinging your insides when you hear the peculiar sound of your front door being unlocked. There’s a very finite amount of probability that it’s not him, he's the rudest of your tiny group of friends and the only one that feels comfortable enough in your home to invite himself without any prior warning.

It’s him, your best friend and subject of too many of your both daily and nightly thoughts and preoccupations.

Once he appears in the door frame, with his heavy coat on his heavy XXL sweatshirt, in his heavy military pants, face turned down hidden by his hair, the magic thing, that grows so mysteriously quick. There’s the little explosion of warmth in your chest. The one that makes you smile tenderly without meaning to. He’s allowed to see how happy he makes you, as a friend anyway. Everybody smiles this way when he walks into a room.

Your eyes catch sight of a box, all white, that fits in his hand. Your eyes roll on reflex. You’re about to curse again. It’s not nice, you don’t want to, to attack him as soon as he returns to you but he’s asking for it, isn't he?

He’s still in the hallway, slowly slipping his shoes off, focus fixed on the present in his hand. The time he takes doing it and the seemingly seriousness you feel irradiating from his aura, confuse you.

Jungkook shakes his head twice, the way he does, kind of like a wet puppy would, before setting the box on the counter of your open kitchen.

It’s only when he starts walking towards you, that his head raises up, just a bit, enough for his eyes to meet yours through his hair. He has a tiny smile as a greeting. He looks really upset.

He should be bouncing on the balls of his feet, he should be doing some TikTok cringe dance moves to make you laugh or yell some greetings in a dialect. He has a lot of peculiar, very Jungkook ways to celebrate meeting you again after a while. Even if neither of you has ever said the words, you do miss each other a lot when you can’t see each other, and the excitement that blooms during your reunions translates that.

But he’s sad today. It’s obvious.

When he takes a seat beside you on the couch, he avoids your gaze. You’re agape, watching him with probably too much insistence, a hand holding a spoon half-filled with yoghurt in the air.

These few moments are decisive. They’ll determine rather he’ll talk or not. Jungkook, for someone who cries easily, is not good with feelings and sharing them aloud. Sometimes he can, often he can’t. He’s told you not to worry about it before, that it was fine because sometimes he just didn’t need to, he just wanted a shoulder to lay his head-on.

“You okay, Guk?”

He shrugs. You just have the time to catch his upper lip sucked in, a twinkle in his eye before he’s switching position, bumping into you and hitting his own shin against the coffee table like a giant dog, unaware of his own growth, would. Only to settle for an impressively tiny huddle against your side, cheek pressed to your shoulder.

So that’s how it’ll be.

It’s heartbreaking, torturesome. You always feel miserable when you know he’s sad but not knowing the reason makes it a thousand times worse. You might be the same vengeful kid you used to be. The one who’ll inquire straight away who made him cry and immediately went on her way to beat that reason up -it being another child or the troll of a tree that made him trip.

Except you are grown-ups now. He knows he can deal with his problems on his own and he would probably not let you go and try to beat up everyone -he probably doesn’t believe you can too, even though he’d be wrong about that.

Jungkook tears his hand out of his pocket only to mime you to turn up the volume of the television. You do so and the pretty hand is gone and if it wasn’t for his quiet sniffling and the heavy press on your side, you wouldn’t know he’s really here with you at all.

Your heart hurts the whole duration of the shitty afternoon movie, even if having his warmth next to you helps a little. He leaves later the way he entered, mostly silently, only smiling a bit when you smooch the side of his head and squeeze his forearm in a wordless comforting effort.

Guk

Sorry for earlier

Guk

It was nice seeing you though

You

Don’t be sorry. Can you call?

Guk

Yes, in 5

The five minutes turn out to be twenty. You wonder, hoping to be wrong, how numerous those tears were that he needed twenty minutes to dry them.

When he finally calls, voice quiet and throat dry, whispering through the phone straight in your ear, uneasiness settles deep and heavy in your stomach as you know, you were right.

“What happened, Jungkook?”

He must not have heard you this soft and gentle for a while because you can hear a humourless chuckle you recognize as incredulity. He clears his throat a first time, inhales deep and has to clear it a second time before he can start, still choking out on a syllable or two.

“She broke up with me.”

The gasp that escapes you, loud and obnoxious, could not have been faked. This news is hardly believable to you. First of all, because, to your greatest guilty despair, Jungkook and his girlfriend, who’ve been dating for almost a year, are probably the embodiment of The Power Couple. There’s no doubt, in all the people that know them, that they are meant to be. They look good together. They are on the same page, always, it seems. They’re beautiful and enviable, an example of a match from Heaven, healthy and aesthetic if that's even a mentionable point.

You can’t, even in your deepest, darkest fantasies, have imagined them to break up.

But the thing that makes it all the harder to comprehend is that she is the one who did it. The girl is great. She’s beautiful, she’s smart and funny, so you heard. She has that glamour to her, with her dainty pretty milky hands and long thin milky neck, with her silky, shiny black locks wondrously floating over her shoulders. She is great, matches him well.

She is not that far behind him but she's still not Jeon-Jungkook-great.

How could she have broken up with him? Someone dumping him makes no sense to you.

“That’s-“ You catch yourself before the words slip out clumsily. You’ve never really been talented at comforting people with words, especially a crying Jungkook which is the equivalent of your very own kryptonite. “I’m so sorry, Jungkook.” And you mean it. Even more so when you hear him snivel hard. You’ve never allowed yourself to, even just for yourself, in the quiet and discreet comfort of your own head, wish for that to happen. Because if there’s one thing that you want more than anything else, more than having him for yourself, more than your own fulfilment, it’s his happiness. And he was happy with Jiyeun. He’s got the girl he had a crush on for months and they went so well together. “But why? Did she give you a reason?”

You hate how eager you sound asking. The question is so pressing though. You wish to know so bad why, in what circumstances, Jeon Jungkook gets dumped.

“She-“ There’s a sob he swallows back. “I know what you’ll say,” Your eyebrows dip low on reflex. You couldn’t imagine the reason. He must have really fucked up but Jungkook is not the kind to fuck up. Even when he’s annoying, even when his mindset on something turns a bit auto-centric, he’s too compassionate, he’s too considerate and loving, to suddenly stop wondering how the person facing him is feeling and act without care, hurt them, in any way. It’s just not his kind. So what did he do that even you’ll have a word to say about it. “Spare me because she’s done enough.”

It takes another set of minutes for him to gather himself, find most of his voice back clear enough for you to decipher. You show yourself patient, not saying anything and leaving him all the time that he needs. In all honesty, in the darkness of your curtain closed bedroom, tucked comfortably in your mountain of pillows and blankets, with your phone stuck to your ear and just the quiet sound of his breathing and humming to himself to break the silence, but rock it rather than disturb it, it’s easy to be patient. Feels like an ASMR. A class A type of ASMR, his breathing to your ear could so easily lead you to sleep.

“Yesterday, she came to welcome me back and-“ Rather than hurt, his tone sounds weakened by shame now. What the hell did he do? “She found the- the thing I brought for you today.”

The fucking idiot.

“Oh my God.” You feel instant nausea. It's not like you never thought about it. You wondered, multiple times, if she was aware that her boyfriend was buying you these. You never allowed dipping far in the questioning because what would be the point? Ultimately, it's his relationship. And it's his way of shaping your friendship. If she kept smiling pleasantly, asking politely, as she always would, how you're doing whenever you happened to cross her path, leaving his apartment, or visiting his shop, it was fine by you. It must have been fine by her. She might have known about it, or she might not, didn't really matter. Jeon Jungkook is a grown-ass man, who's allowed to make his own decisions, no matter if they make sense to you, or her, or whoever.

But he's a fucking idiot.

If she didn't know, if he didn't warn her, and now she's mad after learning about it, and he's surprised and he's sad then he's a fucking idiot.

“She asked if it was for her, I wasn’t gonna lie!” Fantastic. He's passed the shock, soaked in wrath now. That was quick.

"For fuck's sake, Jungkook!"

"What?" He sounds a bit hysterical on the phone, voice rough and angry, incredulous, even mad that you might suggest he's wrong. Obviously, he already knew you'd react this way, hence the primary warning. "You're my best friend. I get to gift you whatever the fuck I want." He whisper-yells, suddenly very much aware again of the late time and the quiet calmness he'd perturbed. "She-"

"I don't think that's the issue, is it? Did she- Did you tell her that- Like, nothing was up?" You don't know how to articulate what you mean to ask. It sounds so bizarre, so irrealistic, the idea of something romantic or sexual going on between you two. It sounds so ludicrous you can't even say it. And again, you're scared to say the words. You don't know how they'll sound leaving your mouth. Suspicious, maybe revealing.

You owe to ask the question though. Because the cause of the sudden nausea comes from one surprisingly major reason, you would hate for her to hate you. To think of you as the bad guy, the massive bitch who stole her boyfriend. It shouldn't matter but it does.

"What do you mean?"

"That it was just friendly. Did you say that to her?" You stutter, largely on edge.

"Of course, I did." He doesn't seem to notice. Or to pay attention to the, evident to your ear, change in your tone. "She said that it didn't matter." You bite your tongue, along with the couple of words threatening to slide off it. Quite frankly, Jungkook is a weirdo with his own intake on the world surrounding him, she chose to date that special, in a lot of different ways, one, however, you can fairly understand that she wouldn't accept any explanation, of any kind, for this situation. "Do you get that? If she thought I was cheating, I'd understand that she'd be mad but- it's not even the case!"

You try to focus on the essence of the conversation, annihilate the faint words you can read in between the lines. The ones that say that even his girlfriend, in those strange circumstances, couldn't imagine the two of you as more than friends. Just as he couldn't. Just as you can't either.

"She knows and she's still mad. But- I do- I was just curious about it."

"About what?"

"The toys." He pouts, barely articulate like the kid he really is.

"Why didn't you get them for her, then? She's your girlfriend."

There's a pause after your words coming from him.

"She hates those." The pout sounds so thick now, in between the sniffs, you wonder if his mouth won't stay stuck in this position, like a cute permanent raspberry on his cute little dumb face. "I did once and she- threw it in my face and called me a freak."

"Jungkook." You sigh. "That explains a lot, by the way." This comment might be mainly for yourself. He doesn't need an explanation, as it seems. He doesn't seem that troubled about the whole deal, about that new hobby he's picked for himself. But you did. It's hard to simply content yourself with a "well, it is what it is" and nothing more.

He's been curious about them, couldn't buy them for Jiyeun because she wouldn't use them and make him feel guilty about his interest. He's sort of living it by procuration this way.

Now you feel guilty. He can't have found much satisfaction from your reviews if you ever have given him any. And she called him a freak. What a bitch. You wouldn't have imagined that coming from her.

Your mind is a mess.

"And it makes you happy. I see the way-" You hear the friction of tissues, the squeaking of his bed, and the deep sigh that follows when, as you picture, he finds a comfortable position on his back. "You seem much better. Less stressed and-" You cannot deny that. Even though it's partially frustrating, to think that he has this very unpleasant picture of you, of the version of you preceding the very first orgasm brought by him - sort of. You are feeling considerably better. Even if you have to force yourself not to abuse the masturbatory habits, not wishing to turn into a jerk off crazed teen like you once was when your hormones were fucking you up, it helps a lot. Sometimes it's a late-night quickie, other times a longer seance to celebrate the start of the weekend, or find force for the beginning of a new week.

"What was that again? Youthful?" You wonder aloud, an annoyingly amused smile on your face.

"Rejuvenated." He's laughing a bit. And for that, all the turmoil he's been putting you through feels fine and worth it. When you think about the heartbreaking tone of his voice when you first heard it through the phone, it eases an incredibly heavyweight to your heart, enchants you to know that he can still laugh, and you can still be the one reminding him how to. Unfortunately, his heart's just recalled how to hurt and the ache is back as quick as it pretended to leave an instant ago. "She said to never call her again." He confides with a hearable sorrow.

"She didn't mean it." It's surprisingly easy to be a good friend to him. The words you know he needs to hear not even hurting that bad.

"I don't know. We never fought like that before."

"Of course, you didn't. But it's been a year, it ought to happen at some point."

"But if she won't even let me talk to her, how am I supposed to make it better?"

"Be patient and leave her time to cool down." He sighs, already defeated. "Maybe send her a vocal note, she'll listen when she's ready.” They're awfully nice when he sends some to you. “It'll be fine." You're made to be together, probably, you should add. You could add, it might help him immensely, to dry the tears you can picture filling up his eyes. It's a little too much though. You're not that strong of a masochist to force this on you.

"How do you know that?"

"I just do. Don't worry too much." He can't. His heavy silence precisely screams that. "Do you wanna come to my island? I'll let you run in my flowers if you want."

It makes him laugh once again. The lovely, most satisfying sound to your ear.

"That's sweet of you." And it is, extremely sweet of you. If there's one thing that you despise is him sprinting through the mindfully planted flower beds of your Animal Crossing island. It pisses you off. Even more so when he does it by accident than on purpose, because this shit happens way too often. And now, you're allowing him to do so. You're definitely too good at being his friend. "It's fine though. Turnips sell at 138 on mine if you're interested."

It's your turn to be laughing now. You love how even with his heartbroken, upset and crying, he still picks up his Switch to check where's the turnips' stock at.

"Jungkook." I adore you.

You have for seemingly ever. Since the very first time you met.

You'd never forget it. How you almost passed out from laughing because of the street sign that nearly knocked him unconscious. His forehead was already bruising dark, eyes unfocused and shiny with tears. You didn't mean to laugh but he was adorable and funny, and even if you felt guilty for enjoying it, people don't run their faces into street signs every day. You called it in your own head a miracle.

He had to sit for a little while from how dizzy he felt. His ears were burning with embarrassment too, your uncontrollable giggling not helping. He just sat there, on a bench you had dragged him to, hands tucked in the pocket of his sweatshirt, waiting for you to allow him to leave.

The kid stood unbalanced the four times he tried to walk and even if at eleven, you had nothing close to a doctoral degree, you still felt like it was wrong to just let him stumble his way back home straight away. You had to hold him hostage for a little while. You had shared your homemade cookies with him, the ones you hid deep in your bag for you didn't want anyone to ask for a bite at school. You made him drink the whole content of your water bottle because drinking water is never an unhealthy thing to do, therefore, it felt like a good idea.

He was so shy that your own timidness quieted down enough to allow you to make conversation to him. Or more accurately talk over the silence and distract him. He giggled a lot and smiled with cute bunny teeth. Kept saying thank you for every bit of cookies you'd given him and once you had walked him home and he arrived safe and sound, he bowed very low, apologized and thanked you again.

You thought it'd be the end of it. He pretended to be going to the same school as you but you had never seen him also he was a few years younger.

The next day, and every single day after that, at recess, he would appear out of nowhere. Wearing his adorable smile, and a tint of red on his ears, a bunch of homemade cookies of his own filling up his pockets. As a puppy would, he'd follow you around with a certain distance until you waved him over, rolling your eyes, because if he was going to stick by your side, he might as well actually play with you.

The most precious friendship you have ever experienced bloomed from this seed. A friendship, at the start, mainly based on a shared interest for very sugary treats, marbles, and that common memory of him eating shit in this street sign. You didn't mean to remind him, it made him flush furiously each time and you were not that cruel, but you couldn't help bursting out in laughter whenever you'd walk home -with him or alone- and pass that sign. It's your favourite spot in your home town. You never miss an occasion to take a selfie for him whenever you go to visit your parents.

It's hard to define the moment your feelings, once purely platonic, changed. But there's a memory that feels notably significant.

A guy made you fall. A useless asshole, who in retrospect was not even worth a single crumble of your time. You were confused. As you often get, without really knowing why. Maybe it's just you, maybe it's for everyone the same. People start by being too good in your eyes, too good for you not to give them your all, and maybe build pyramides upon pyramides of expectations.

Until they're not anymore.

Suddenly, they hurt your feelings. They suck ass and you felt so invested emotionally, way too invested for it to be any kind of healthy, and their very human selves harm you straight in the heart, where it is the most painful.

It didn't feel like a mistake this time. Like any of the other times, at the beginning, of course, otherwise, it wouldn't catch you again and again.

You fell hard and it's Jungkook who picked you up. He had cooked for you, one of his mother's infamous recipes because he knew you wouldn't even bother eating otherwise. He had held you close. He had kissed the top of your head, your cheeks and your eyelids when a diehard tear had slipped. He had called you baby and sunshine and his little kitten. Had showered you in an unfamiliar type of loving. Something so soft, so tender and warm. Hands firm when they'd wrapped around you and pulled you in. Fingers gentle when they'd brush the hair out of your face. He took care of you, made you feel good in ways no one has ever had. You had not known him to be like that. Suddenly, he really felt like a man when he touched you, when he talked to you. He wasn't only a dorky little overgrown baby anymore. He was a man, shaped like one but also able to act like one. Able to take care of a woman, please one you were sure of it. And suddenly, you wanted, so desperately, to be that woman. To have the same free access you had on his usual candid-self, on this newly met man.

Of course, it's too ludicrous for you to ever act on it. But deep down, a naive tiny voice kept claiming, in the back of your mind, that you could spoil him. Very few people in this world know him the way you do, surely, no one can please him the way you could.

Guk

She listened to my note!!!

Guk

She said she'll make me miss her a bit more and then she'll call

It took less than a day for her to give him a sign. You're not surprised. It's hard not to miss him. You're not surprised but somehow, still, disappointed.

A/N: tadam!! i needed to include some flashbacks because i know my fellow f2l addicts just adore these, also, i just can’t get over writing kookie as a cute kid.

Guess what guys? there is only one chapter to go *sweats profusely* I- am worried. I hope you keep enjoying it and will enjoy the rest. :] For now, let me know your thoughts. I hope you have a sweet, lazy Sunday and wish you a lovely, peacful week! bises!

As always please ask to be tagged for the final chapter on this post

#btswriterscollective #networkbangtan #ggukienet #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts angst #bts fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfic #my writing

229 notes · View notes

shakey-hands · 4 years ago

Note

Hi hi!! I LOVED your fic about Ranpo and Fukuzawa, it was wonderful❤️ And I adored your writing style as well, I really hope you’ll continue writing~

I’d love to see a Kunikida x Fem!Reader where the reader is dating Kunikida for a few years and one day, a client comes and starts flirting heavily with the reader and Kunikida decides to make him understand that she has a boyfriend. (I’m so sorry I just love these healthy jealousy dynamics hehe)

sooo i’m ngl, i love kunikida :) i haven’t finished season 3, i’m waiting for my semester to end before i do. i did take some artistic liberties with this so i hope you like it :)

tw: dazai osamu and men (and slight cursing).

---

It was annoying how sunny the day was. Kunikida’s eyes squinted as he added no sunglasses to his ongoing list of why the day was not ideal. First, he woke up late. His eyes had opened to his very loving girlfriend promising to see him at lunch and giving him a kiss on the head before heading to her job. Then, his coffee was cold, making him reheat it in the microwave that then caused the coffee to get everywhere inside. There was no time to clean it up, meaning he would have to figure out how to get the stains out before his girlfriend came home to the mess. It was not like she wouldn’t mind helping him, but Kunikida was in one of his stages where he had to be perfect for her.

Kunikida had showed up to work five minutes late due to some idiot (see: Dazai) holding up traffic to dramatically propose to some random girl in the middle of the street so they could commit suicide together. The crowd had loved it, but the girl had not. Then, Kunikida was slammed with a lot of paperwork all the way until thirty minutes before his lunch. Of course most of the paperwork was just Kunikida fixing other people’s paper work. That one hour of seeing Y/N had the potential to flip his entire day. The bespectacled man looked forward to awkwardly holding Y/N’s hand while they ate the bento boxes she made the night before on a random bench at a park. And yes it was awkward, he never could get the right pressure down, making him either barely hold her hand or squeezing it. It had been years since he started holding her hand, but he never got it down.

That finally leads to one of the worst surprises. Dazai had forgotten to tell Kunikida about an appointment with a client that was fifteen minute before lunch. While this wouldn’t be a big deal, the client needed to meet at the park for lunch and Kunikida did not know how long the meeting would be. Since moving in together in their second year, Y/N and Kunikida had agreed to keep their work lives separate from their home life. That meant that Kunikida could not bring a client to their lunch date. While Y/N was the epitome of kindness and being homey, once she set a boundary she had set it. This was part of why Kunikida loved her so much. However, he was now checking his phone every couple minutes to see if she had responded to his text about lunch.

‘Meeting came up, might be late.’

Vague? Yes. But Kunikida knew she would understand. Hopefully, Y/N would take her time and arrive later than planned. She had a habit of literally stopping to smell the flowers in the park.

The client had been speaking for a long duration, talking about how some thugs were ruining the park's atmosphere and how his grandchildren frequented this place all the time. He was small and had comically large glasses. His hands were folded over one another on top of his cane as he rested on a park bench across the park from Kunikida’s spot with Y/N. Kunikida did not see why the agency was taking this case on. He had gotten a message from Fukuzawa that it was important, but no details as to why. This was a police matter, not something the agency needed to add to its plate. Especially when more pressing jobs needed their attention. The old man spoke slowly, not paying much mind to anything else.

Kunikida’s phone dinged and he couldn’t help looking at it right away.

‘Is this your way of telling me you need to cancel?’

Y/N was just giving him a hard time. She took joy in messing with him, knowing that Kunikida was up tight and would probably freak out. He could vividly see her lips stretch into a teasing smile. All he was missing was the soft kiss on the cheek Y/N always gave him to make up for being mean. She would always pull him down by his tie, gripping it tightly. Dazai had gripped his tie the same way once, and ended up with an earful of colorful words and an official complaint against him. Kunikida let Y/N get away with so much, and he would continue to. He was so in love with his girlfriend of three years.

“Sir, is there an emergency?”

Kunikida snapped out of his daydreams of how Y/N cradled his face whenever they kissed. The client was staring up at him, an eyebrow slightly raised. At the other end of the bench, Dazai snapped his head towards them. He stopped singing the annoying song that had played on the radio that had gotten stuck in both his and Kunikida’s heads. A sly smirk took over his head and slid down the bench towards the client.

“Kunikida,” Dazai said with a wagging finger. “You’re blushing. Were you thinking of a certain little lady in a compromising position?”

Kunikida felt his face heat up. He definitely had not even thought of his girlfriend in that way where other people could perceive him. Especially not during work hours. Kunikida was very private about things like that and so was Y/N. Kunikida started to sputter about, completely appalled by Dazai bringing that up in front of a client. The client looked confused, not knowing what was going on. Dazai let out a loud laugh and began to tease Kunikida more.

* * *

Across the park, Y/N walked up to their spot. She was dressed in her uniform, tired of having to deal with picky clients of her own. Two bento boxes were balanced in her hands, both very similar in food, but different in preferences. Kunikida’s was healthier, with a small salad with various vegetables. Y/N’s had a small slice of the cake she had baked them that week and more fruit. She always woke up early to make them lunch. It was one of the few ways she took care of her loving boyfriend that he found to be quite endearing. Well, he found anything she did endearing, but there were some things that especially made his heart race.

Another example was that she wore the stupid little children’s bracelet he had won her from their first date every day. Due to his nervousness, Kunikida had been convinced by Atsushi and Kenji that he should bring her to the fair the agency was going to. Of course it was for a client, but it had slipped Kunikida’s mind when he first saw Y/N’s smile as he offered (awkwardly and properly of course) to hold her hand so they wouldn’t get lost. While at first it was very practical to not get lost in the crowd, Kunikida did not have to convince himself that the warmth of her hand was something he wanted more of. He was smitten from the beginning, and now he couldn’t imagine a life without her.

Their bench was unoccupied, like always. She sat down, crossing her ankles and casually looking around. It was a nice day, with clouds covering the sun and a soft breeze. A large tree provided extra shade, and if you looked closely, there was a small heart with both Kunikida and her initials carved into one of the large roots. It had happened one night where both had a little too much to drink, but the next morning Kunikida was freaking out over it. Y/N loved their spot.

As her eyes casually drifted over the park, a familiar trench coat caught her eyes. Dazai was draped over a bench, paying no mind to the old man sitting beside him. Standing with his back facing towards her, Kunikida had his weight shifted to one leg and his arms crossed. Y/N smiled at the sight of her boyfriend. His whole body was tense and she knew Dazai was probably giving Kunikida a hard time by the smirk on Dazai’s face. It had taken Y/N a while to get used to Dazai, but now she could smile with appreciation. The two balanced one another, and Y/N was completely aware that if it weren’t for Dazai’s softening of her boyfriend, they would have never gotten together.

Y/N was too much in her head to see the handsome man coming towards her. He had his eyes set on her silky hair and sparkling eyes. The man had been out for his daily run before he met his grandfather and just happened to see the pretty girl on the bench from across the way. Although it was not his usual running path, the man couldn’t help but switch it up. The closer he got, the more he realized how easily he could fall in love with her. As he slowed down, he noticed how she was lost in the scenery of the park.

“So, you come here often?”

Her head turned, unsure about what she was about to look at. Y/N was not impressed by the man in front of her. Though every man seemed to be paled in comparison to her boyfriend. The man in front of her was buff and looked like he was on a run. He was attractive, with high cheekbones and plump lips, but Y/N was not interested. One of her eyebrows quirked up.

“I suppose.” There was an uncertain edge to her voice, hoping he would get the hint.

Instead, the man hiked his foot up on the opposite corner of the bench, flexing in a very obvious way that he was trying to be subtle. “Yeah, I was just on my daily run. I work out a lot, mainly in nature, but don’t turn down any gym days when they come up. Those are rare though. I have a job that keeps me busy. You know, you don’t earn 200 million yen in a year by just sitting on your ass. I mean, sure I take nice vacations to my beach house every once in a while-”

His boasting could be heard from across the park. Which of course caught Dazai’s attention when he saw who the guy was talking to. It was as if God had set up a perfect day for Dazai to have. He hoped Kunikida would explode. The client was very boring and Dazai was pretty sure the supposed thugs happened to be the Port Mafia. He was just waiting for Kunikida to get through all the questions from his notebook so they could go on lunch already. But now? Now a show of entertainment was in sight as Dazai zeroed in on Y/N and how uncomfortable she looked. That would certainly set Kunikida off.

Dazai knew how whipped Kunikida was for Y/N. The tall man almost never liked to talk about things outside of work, unless it came to his girlfriend. Everyone in the office knew to steer clear of the topic of Y/N unless they wanted to be trapped in a conversation about how amazing her cooking was or how well her job was going. It was cute at first, but it had been a couple years and Kunikida was still in his honeymoon phase of worshipping her. But this? This would make him go wild.

Dazai let out a huge sigh as the client kept talking. He noticed how Y/N kept looking over, hoping someone would notice and get her out of whatever hell she was going through. So Dazai waved slightly, making Kunikida look over at him and frown. The client was still talking, going into some story that looked like it would drag on and on. And then, the situation got worse.

Just as Kunikida was looking to see whatever had Dazai’s attention instead of the case, the strange man began to twirl Y/N’s hair around his finger, getting horribly close. His face got too close to hers, noses about to brush. Y/N held her breath, praying that the moment would be over soon. And it was.

Nobody had expected Kunikida to be that fast, but soon he was up the hill to the bench and holding the man who was shorter than him by the collar. There was a rage in his eye that centered around the man’s wandering hands. Y/N stood up quickly, ready to pull Kunikida away from the man if he tried to be too violent. Of course she would pretend to be slow, but she still felt morally obligated to pull them away from one another. Dazai casually walked up the grassy hill, hands in his pocket and smirk on his face.

Kunikida was breathing heavy, mind racing on what he was going to do. He wasn’t naturally a violent person, but he did not like how the man was making Y/N uncomfortable. His sudden rush had caught the attention of those who were close by. There was a silence enveloping the group as they all waited to see what Kunikida would do.

“Unhand my grandson,” The old man yelled as he waddled up the hill at an extremely slow pace.

Dazai raised an eyebrow and looked behind him. For a split second, he was very aware of how easily he could push the old man back down the hill and turn back to the source of the growing tension in the park. But Dazai didn’t want to be the source of any drama in that moment so he just turned back around to see the conflict in Kunikida’s eyes.

“It’s okay, honey,” Y/N said as she slowly put a hand on Kunikida’s shoulder.

Kunikida let down the man, he dropped to his knees from the sudden let go. He faltered as he stood up, readjusting his clothes.

“What the hell is your-”

Before he could even finish his sentence, he was getting socked in the face. Everyone stood in shock as Y/N’s hit sent him straight to the ground. She stood over him with a frown on her face.

“Learn to respect women, asshole.”

And if it were possible, Kunikida fell in love with her more.

#bungo stray dogs #kunikida x reader #bsd kunikida #dazai osamu #jealous kunikida

96 notes · View notes

kkeidawrites · 4 years ago

Text

That Night

Chp. 2

🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️

I take back what I said last night. That insufferable, uncouth, disrespectful, brat has been nothing but a throne in my side and it’s only been three days! Three!

Mother has somehow made it her mission to include Mawu in every single activity I would do during the day. My schedule has been completely altered due to Mother’s meddling.

Now, the moon goddess is following behind me as I headed to my meeting with the generals of Asgard and my father. How delightful.

“I still don’t understand why I must attend as well. I have better things to do than be with you all day.” The beautiful woman spoke up and I rolled my eyes with a sigh.

“I am not happy about your attendance either. And I would recommend you to stay quiet while I speak with the generals and my father.” I say and I hear her bark out a laugh in disbelief.

“Excuse you, I will have you know that I have lead my own army against the evil monster Gaunab. When he killed half of the humans on Earth and force my moon to...to,” I turn to see her eyes glowing a purple color and she closed her eyes, sighing, as she forced herself to calm down.

“I’m not unfamiliar of speaking war games to another.” She says walking past me as I watched her stomp away, her dress swaying behind her. Today she wore a silver dress, that fit her too well. It fit her deliciously. It was already a difficulty to keep my eyes off of her and now that she was wearing this dress, it has become twice as difficult. Clicking my tongue I flicked my cape behind me and followed after her.

Gold doors stood in our wake as we walked closer to the war room. Father had informed me that there was another war on the horizon from the Black Beserkers. It was urgent that we speak on our next move before it was too late.

Two guards stood in front of the doors, spears gripped tight in their grasps and their silver armor gleamed in the sun.

The two guards open the door and we walk in to see all of Asgard’s generals and my father and unfortunately my brother around the gold table that showed all of Asgard’s defense positions and small horses and men that were expertly placed on the maps.

Odin looks up and noticed Mawu and I, then waved his hand over to us both. I took my place by Father’s side while Mawu stood next to Thor who smiled in greeting to her. She nods in greeting with a smile of her own and turns her focus to the table.

Two hours of going back and forth with each general with my father and my brother about which idea was best. I sighed at the endless bickering and noticed that Mawu was looking at the maps before us very intently. Moving a step closer to the table, she moves two of the maps and grazed one finger through both of them.

“What if...” taking one more good look through the maps, Mawu looked up to see the men have their full attention on her.

“What if we used a surprise attack? Gorr is known for wanting one on one fights, yes?” Her question is towards Odin who nods. “I suggest we set him up to bait and then attack him then.” She says and the generals began muttering to one another while Thor turns to her.

“How do you know of Gorr? I have not heard of him going to Midgard.” Thor states. Mawu frowns and clenched her left hand in a fist.

“He had came to Earth almost two hundred years ago and had killed a -ahem- a God and my mother and I decided to investigate it. He took us by surprise, his black dogs took out half of our troops and nearly killed my mother and I. We we were only able to survive when my sister arrived and even with her army did we narrowly win.” Mawu sighs and I raised my eyebrows, quite impressed by her conquest.

Gorr was not an enemy to make light of. He too has been a constant that father constantly struggled to keep contain. I have had my own fights with the infamous God Butcher and he was not a being to be taken lightly.

“Even though we won, it was still a devastating loss to our people and not just our troops...we lost a lot of humans that days as well. Gorr is a monster.” Her eyebrows narrow in anger and turns to Odin with determination in her eyes.

“We must stop him.” She says and Odin pats her shoulder in reassurance.

“We will. And when we do,” he raised his staff to the others who straightened their backs.

“We will place his head on a pike. To show that Asgard shall not be triffled with ever again!” Thor and the other generals raised their weapons in praise and bellowed out a yell in agreement.

I turned my eyes back to Mawu who sighed heavily and left the war room as the others continued to strategize. Seeing as that I was no longer needed, I left as well and made my way towards the library. They can bicker and fuss some more but, I refuse to be apart of it.

As I paced to the library, to my left there was movement going into the gardens and I stopped to peek over a balcony to see the moon goddess walking through the varies pattern of different flowers.

I noticed that she was cradling something in her arms and the trip to the library seemed like a later task. The idea of wanting to know where that spiteful moon goddess is up to, peaked my interest.

Following the familiar path to the gardens, I saw the cloud of black curls and shimmering silver dress sitting under a large tree that was in the middle of the gardens. And it would seem that she wasn’t alone either.

Hiding behind a tree nearby, I shapshifted into a eagle and flapped into the tree above her. Turning my head I glanced down to see that my mother had joined the younger goddess. They both sat on the soft grass and spoke softly.

Third Person POV

Irawo jumps to a nearby flower and begins nibbling on the stem.

“I hope your stay here has been well, Mawu. I promised your mother that I would make sure you were as comfortable as possible.” Frigga says to the goddess.

“Oh yes, Lady Frigga, I am quite content. Although I am trying everything within my person not to strangle a certain God of Mischief.” Mawu sighs to the All Mother who chuckles.

“My son,” she smiles. “He has always been mischievous but, he is a good man. He wasn’t one for fighting like his brother, he became interested in reading and studying, learning magic perhaps far better and faster than any student I have had under my wing.” She smiles with pride.

“He is a remarkable young man, that I am proud to call my son.” Frigga finishes as Mawu noticed movement above them and the familiar gold patch that sat on their breastbone made Mawu’s left eye twitch in annoyance.

“As remarkable as he may be,” Mawu spots a rock by her foot and secretly picked it up.

“He’s still rude and the fact that he is constantly picking at me doesn’t help either.”

“I’m sure as the time passes you two will be on better terms. When it comes to new people, Loki tends to grow on you.” Frigga explains. She then placed a hand on Mawu’s shoulder and the moon goddess looks at the All Mother in question.

“Please be patient with him,” she begins as she smiles at her.

“He’s really not all that bad.” And with that Frigga stands to her feet and leaves the gardens with Mawu contemplating her words until she remembers a certain bird brain camping above her, no doubt listening to her and Frigga’s conversation.

Mawu stands to her feet as well and fixes her dress, making sure to keep the rock in her hand as inconspicuous as possible until she quickly turns to the tree and throws it to hit the eagle.

The eagle (Loki) screeches in surprise and falls off the branch it was perched on and land on the grass in front of her. Slowly, the eagle shifted back to Loki and Mawu huffed, going over to Irawo and picking him up. He groaned from the fall and rubbed his back.

“The next time you easedrop, make sure that your jewelry is hidden better. You were too easy to detect.” She ‘hmphs’ and leaves the God of Mischief to groan in pain.

Later on that night

Mawu made her way to the dining hall around this time, she was just going to eat a bit and then take a couple of snacks back to her room for her and Irawo.

“Mother, you must find a way for her to leave. I cannot take this anymore.” Before she turned the corner where the dining hall was, Mawu pressed herself against the wall and listens. In her view she watched as Loki and Frigga came from another hall walking towards the dining hall.

“Oh, Loki, Mawu is completely harmless-”

“Harmless?! She’s insufferable! It’s bad enough I have to see her almost every hour of the day but, this is too far. Now, I have to deal with her whenever I go to different realms? That is too much of my comfort that you are taking advantage of.” He said to her. Frigga grabs his arm to stop him and Loki sighs as his mother moves to stand in front of him.

“Is it really so bad to have her in your presence?”

“Yes!” He says making Frigga give him a look.

“How about this,” she begins as she moved her son’s arm to allow hers to loop through and they continue walking towards the dining hall.

“If you spend at least three hours with her for the duration of her stay, I will speak to your father about your traveling privileges than just the four realms you are allowed to go to.” She negotiated while her son raised an eyebrow at her.

“You will speak to father? He won’t give me back my traveling privileges just because you asked him.” Loki rolls his eyes while Frigga smirks.

“But, I can my son. I am not the All Mother for nothing.” She pats her son’s arm lightly and Loki gives her small smile.

Seeing that the coast was clear, Mawu made her appearance from around the corner and crossed her arms. It’s not like she was here for her own free will she was just as stuck in this as he was.

“Ibajẹ ẹlẹgbẹ.” Mawu mutters as she paced to the dining hall. Pushing the doors open, the royal family noticed her appearance and Thor raised his goblet in greeting to her.

“Ah, The Great Lady Mawu has arrived!” Thor announces. She smiled at Thor. He was a very loud guy but, he was all around friendly. In the few times they have been together he has always asked her if She wanted to join him on his many conquests on different realms to fight the enemies or in some cases, ‘play with them’.

Mawu’s POV

In spite of being here for the next few weeks, Thor was probably the only thing that has really livened up the place and the fact that Loki didn’t bother me was a great feat as well.

“Hello Thor. Back from your many conquests I see.” I take a seat between him and Frigga.

“Yes, I have returned from the realm Nidavellir. Riding with the dwarves to hunt Biolsïdhs!” He went on to talk about his adventure as a servant placed a plate of food in front of me. I thanked them and took a bite into the bread and cheese.

The feeling of someone watching me made me avert my eyes up to see Loki’s green ones glaring at me. I rolled my eyes at him and turned my head to tune into Thor’s story. It would seem that throughout dinner, Loki’s eyes never left the side of my face and it sent chills down my spine.

Once dinner was over, I walked back to my quarters with a napkin full of carrots and some sweets inside. I was nearly at my room when I saw a familiar being leaned against the wall with their arms crossed. Sighing, I quickened my walk to my door until I felt a whooshing sound and I looked to my right to see Loki now leaned against the wall by my door.

“We are to spend three hours everyday until you leave.” He stated.

“Oh joy,” I reached out to open my door but, my wrist was quickly grabbed by the God before me. I looked at his hand on my wrist then back at Loki, like he had lost his mind.

“Release me-”

“Two in a half more weeks,” he says as he looks in my eyes.

“Two. That is all the time that we have to just spend three hours together. We don’t have to be friends. We don’t have to be allies. As long as you stay out of my way, I’ll stay out of yours.” He says.

“Let. Me. Go.” I grit at him and snatch my wrist back opening my door and going inside just to slam it in his face before he had the chance to speak anymore.

“Fucking asshole...” I mutter and move over to my bed where Irawo was grooming himself. He hopped his way over to me and I placed the napkin of treats on the bed and gave him two carrots where he happily began to eat his treats.

Biting into the sweet bun I managed to snag from the feast earlier, I thought back to what Loki said. Spend three hours with him for the next couple of weeks?! I sighed in annoyance.

“I can’t believe this...just what is Frigga planning.” I muffled into the bun, then moaning because I realized how good it was.

“This is really good Irawo.” I say and the bunny begins munching on his second carrot.

Third Person POV

Unbeknownst to Mawu, Loki laid in his bed slightly fuming on the fact that he now has to deal with that woman much longer than he wanted to. Damn his mother’s meddling. Taking a bite from the carrot in his hand, he hmphed in annoyance.

That insufferable woman was going to be the death of him.

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

End of Chp. 2

Ch. 1⬅️

Ch. 3⬅️

Here’s another chapter for you guys! As always thanks for reading and make sure to like, comment and reblog!

See you soon!

#black reader #black!reader #fanfiction #my writing #loki marvel #loki laufeyson x reader #loki fanfic #loki x black!reader #Loki Laufeyson x black reader #african!goddess reader #that night chp. 2

163 notes · View notes

deanzasmiles · 3 years ago

Text

6 Stages of Invisalign Treatment

Introduction

Although Invisalign appears to have been around for a long time, the firm that launched it is only about twenty years old, and even then, it took a while to utilize Invisalign’s clear plastic trays to catch on. It wasn’t until roughly 2004 that the treatments gained widespread acceptability. According to the Invisalign website, Invisalign now accounts for 6% of teen orthodontics and a whopping 31% of adult orthodontics.

Even though most patients do not use Invisalign, they do inquire about the therapy. Invisalign, after all, has some significant advantages. The procedure is nearly invisible. Patients can also eat whatever they want and brush their teeth without difficulty because the trays are removable. So, if you’re wondering how the Invisalign system works, here’s a quick rundown:

1. Make an appointment with your orthodontist

If you’re considering Invisalign, we’ll need to determine if it’s right for you. Invisalign is a versatile treatment approach, but it doesn’t work for all orthodontic disorders. Aside from clinical issues, we must also evaluate a patient’s capacity or willingness to keep the trays in for nearly 20 hours a day. Patients and their families will want to check on insurance coverage and compare costs. Even if you don’t get treatment from us, we recommend that you get Invisalign therapy from an orthodontist rather than a general dentist.

2. Your orthodontist draws out a treatment plan for you

We take x-rays, picture's complete oral scan and impressions of your teeth once you’ve opted to start Invisalign dentists treatment. Combined with our directions for how we want the teeth to move, these records are transmitted to the Invisalign module. The information is then directly entered into a computer, which generates a 3-D representation of your teeth and a computer model of how they will migrate to their ideal places.

3. Wait for your aligners to arrive

The aligners may take up to a month to arrive at our clinic.

4. Wear your aligners on

When the aligners are ready, come to our office, and we’ll give them to you. They’re all unique and should be worn in a precise order. Each aligner will help move your teeth into desired and specified positions as your treatment develops. You can remove the aligner to eat or brush your teeth, but you should keep it on For a duration of 22 hours a day for the whole treatment period to achieve desired results.

5. Our orthodontist refines your smile

You may be finished with your Invisalign after two weeks of wearing the last tray, but a few teeth may still require modifications. It’s not uncommon for this to occur. We’ll examine your teeth and, if necessary, contact Invisalign to place an order for a few extra “refinement” trays.

6. Keep a positive attitude

You will need to wear fixed or removable retainers once treatment is complete to give the bones of your jaw time to harden around your new teeth placements. Vivera trays from Invisalign are identical to their other trays, except they’re thicker and sturdier. They’re not meant to be replaced every two weeks like Invisalign trays. A wired retainer can also be used.

#Invisalign #Invisalign Treatment #Invisalign dentistry

3 notes · View notes

sunlightxing · 4 years ago

Text

Show Me Some Respect

After working for years as a secretary to General Hux aboard the ship, the Finalizer, life could not have been better for you.

That was until Hux informed you that Commander Kylo Ren would be joining you on that ship. Almost immediately, you both resent each other, but after being forced to spend more alone time with him, you begin to wonder, what's so bad about him after all?

Tags on A03 Include:

-Force Choking (Star Wars)

-Fluff and Smut

-Face-Fucking

-Not How the Force is Used

-Armitage Hux Needs a Hug

-Kylo Ren is an asshole

-Y/N Makes Poor Choices

-Praise Kink

-Choking

-Cum-Eating

-Orgasm Delay/Denial

-Sexual Tension

-Sexual Abuse

-Y/N Goes Through A Lot

-Murder

-Possessive Kylo Ren

-Protective Armitage Hux

-Kylo and Hux Get Along Maybe Twice

Chapter 1: Do As He Says

A dread filled morning takes you by suspense when your boss, General Hux, riddles you with nothing but fear for your first encounter with the menacing, Commander Kylo Ren.

A/N: Hello to readers here on tumblr. I’m a little new to posting original work (especially writing) on here so bear with me as I figure it all out! I hope you enjoy my first ever Kylo Ren X Reader story (I dont use y/n cause I don’t like it, my deepest apologies)

Why’d you leave us?

A faint voice called out to you in the distance, so soft and silky, daintily whispering to you. Despite the initial faintness, it slowly began to get closer and closer, its volume ever increasing.

Your eyes fluttered open, but the bright sun blinded them, causing you to seal them shut once more. Eventually, they adjusted to the light, and you opened them to see so many large, and bare trees stretching towards the sky above you. White speckles, snow, were falling all around you, some flakes even landing on your nose.

It felt oddly peaceful, the soft moss around you feeling more comfortable than your own bed. It encased around you, smothering you with warmth and comfort. You kept your eyes shut, and felt yourself seconds from falling asleep on the slightly snow-covered ground. For just a moment, your reopened your eyes, getting one more view of your surrounding before drifting off. But then, to your horror, you saw that the ground next to you was completely covered in blood.

Your eyes widened in fear as you jolted away from your spot on the ground, and pushed yourself up against a nearby tree. The voice in the distance was coming closer towards you, and kept roaring louder and louder. The blood on the ground began to expand, seeping through the moss at an alarming rate. It surrounded the entire area around you, except directly where you were sitting.

As you glanced back up at the sky, the snow, which had now transformed into an icy hail, had begun to take on an even stranger form. In its image, flashes of their faces blew past you, and with it, followed the sound of their screams and cries. Pleading for help, for you to save them. The smell of burning wood wafted into your nostrils, and that voice in the distance was still growing louder. You knew that soon, it would be upon you.

"Wake up, wake up. Please fucking wake up!"

In a jolt of cold sweats, you gasped back to reality, frantically scanning the area around you to make sure it was safe.

"Just a dream, it was just a dream."

Your breath was sporadic, leaving you a panting and anxious mess as you pulled yourself out of bed. Even the smallest movement caused a massive amount of pain surge to through your head.

"I can't take another one of those nightmares." You thought, grabbing the glass of water from your nightstand. You looked over at your clock groggily, and your heart sank upon seeing that you had overslept, giving you little to no time to prepare for the day.

The shower water was freezing when you initially turned it on, per usual. It always felt embarrassing to have to stand outside the door, completely nude, occasionally dangling your finger under the water to see if it had heated up yet.

Over 3 years ago you began working as a secretary to General Hux, and though there was a monstrous amount of glitz and glam thought to come with such a job, it couldn't have been more painfully annoying.

Sure, Hux was somewhat kind and caring towards you, but every other person you pitifully encountered treated you like shit. They'd throw their fits when you wouldn't deliver their papers, shine their boots, tasks they very easily could've done themselves, but simply refused. It wasn't the most difficult job in the world, despite the constant hazing. However, their was a shocking increase in secretaries amongst the First Order. It was most definitely due to the jobs incredible bore-ability, and the fact whoever was placed in such a position would be treated like garbage by everyone they encountered.

You rushed through your shower, only using the time to wash your hair and then yourself. The steam from the hot water had fogged your mirror, which made it hard for you to see your hair when putting it up into two long french braids. You pulled a few strands out in the front, trying to look somewhat nice since your uniform sure didn't help. It was a shapeless, olive green suit, with baggy pants, and thick, heavy boots. The hat that came along with it also wasn't very flattering, but it wasn't like anyone saw you other than your crewmates, and General Hux.

You took another swig from your cup of water as you stared out your glass window and into the infinite galaxy. Your brain decided to alert you of how Hux would be ridiculously pissed off if you were late, as today was one of the days you dreaded most of all since you began working on the Finalizer. The ship would be making its way back to Starkiller base, and you were anything but excited for that.

Several technicians raced by you, heading off to fix some malfunction in the interior of the ship. You always looked at them and wondered if they enjoyed their jobs here, or if, just like you, it was a love-hate relationship.

You entered the control room, staring the other programmers and pilots plugging away at their stations. Though they didn't technically fly the Finalizer, their work was incredibly important. You liked to think yours was important as well, but in reality, it was pointless. Technically, you were Huxs' right hand. As a result, he told you practically anything and everything. So it was more like you were a glorified therapist that followed him around like a lost pet.

"Cadet," a voice said behind you. General Hux was standing at the entrance to the control room, looking a lot more frazzled than usual. "Will you walk with me for a moment?"

You nodded, following closely behind him. Unlike usual, you decided to keep your mouth shut, hoping he would start to explain why he looked so disheveled and unnerved, but he didn't say a word. It was becoming harder to not acknowledge how his body trembled intensely with ever step he took.

"General, if I may ask, is everything alright?" You questioned sweetly, trying not to sound disrespectfully intrusive.

Hux let out a heavy sigh, stopping for a moment to rest against a nearby wall. "I am, not alright," he panted, his voice shaking more than his body was. "When we arrive at Starkiller base, you're going to have to meet The Commander, and I already know you two will not get along."

Your face recoiled as you began to dig into the back of your mind. "Did he mean Commander Ren? That stubborn brute?" You laughed to yourself, while Hux was seconds from engaging in a panic attack.

"This is no laughing matter cadet!" He hollered, his voice nearly cracking at every syllable.

You let out a long sigh. "Hux, I can deal with Kylo Ren. He doesn't scare me at all."

"He should scare you," Hux stated plainly. "My last secretary, before you. He made one simple mistake, and Ren saw to it that the poor boy was eradicated."

Your eyes grew wide with fear, darting away from his gaze so he couldn't see the horror on your face. Hux said it plain as day, if you made so much as one, small mistake, Commander Ren would personally see to it that you were eradicated as well.

Hux groaned. "We both work for the same Supreme Leader, which means I have to work with him." His breathing patterns began to grow more heavy and frantic, and his face flushed with a vibrant red.

You tried to calm him down, as you knew the ship couldn't make the entire flight back without his orders. The two of you had gotten rather close, and you had a lot of respect for him. He'd come in some days looking like he'd seen a ghost, and you wouldn't have been shocked if he had. If the Commander managed to make Hux, your boss, that anxious, you knew this couldn't be good.

After what seemed like seconds, you had arrived at your destination. Just the sight of Starkiller base sent shivers down your spine.

Sure, you'd been their plenty of times, but you never had to willingly interact with the Commander before. In fact, you'd never so much as seen the smallest fragment of his figure. Which would make his reveal all the more terrifying.

As you approached the landing bay, the large metal doors began to open to allow your entrance in. Hux came up behind you, his posture had been perfected, and all expression on his face had been wiped. He looked like a whole new man, and you weren't sure that if you wanted to get on the Commander's good side, you'd have to become a whole new woman.

"The Commander would like us both to meet with him in his quarters before he joins us onboard." Hux said, his voice shaking. You nodded as you took one more look at the hull of the control room, not sure if it was your last.

The pair of you made your way from the control room, to the landing bay. A small craft would take you from the Finalizer to the bay on Starkiller, but you wanted nothing more than just to stay put. There were ways where you could completely avoid the Commander for the entire duration he was here, you hoped. You would just have to hide in a waste bucket every time he came near Hux, and that didn't seem so bad. You groaned, glancing over at Hux as the cruiser landed rather dramatically at the center of the bay.

“Hux, he’s going to hate me, isn’t he?”

He sighed, placing an awkward arm on your shoulder, his attempt at comfort. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

As the pair of you walked down the long hallways of the Starkiller base, it felt as if you were walking to your doom. Which, in reality you probably were. Two stormtroopers had been sent to escort you from the ship to Commander Rens' quarters. They didn't say a word the entire trip to said quarters, despite Hux's several attempts.

Eventually, the four of you arrived at what you presumed to be the Commander's meeting room. The two troopers walked up to the door, placing a loud knock on it to signal their arrival, and then stationed themselves on either side of it. Hux took in a deep breath as he began typing into a small keypad attached to the entrance, and then, the door was open.

"Commander, my apologies on us being later than normal." Hux said, walking through the doorway to the meeting room.

"Oh Gods."

Commander Ren looked like nothing you had expected, though you couldn't really see all of him. He was tall, absolutely massive, his muscles practicality protruding from his sleeves. But his face, you couldn't see so much as an outline of that. Covering it was a thick, solid metal mask, breathing canal and all. He was a true Vader knock off.

He slowly turned around, a feeling of pure rage wafting off of him. For a brief moment, you were certain he was seconds from smashing Huxs' head in, but then he stopped dead in his tracks. His head titled from Huxs' body to your own. Though you couldn't see his facial expression underneath that mask, you new it was one of disgust.

"Who are you?" He asked, gesturing in your direction. You arched your eyebrows in confusion, could he not tell just by simply looking at your uniform?

"No answer?" Commander Ren scoffed.

"I'm his secretary, Commander," you stated, gesturing in Huxs' direction, "didn't you request my presence here? "

He shook his head, placing a hand on the front of that intimidating facial shield. The movement made it look as if he was gaining a headache from your small amount of talking. "This is who you had replace the old one?" Commander Ren hissed, "have you no shame, Hux?"

"Ren, she is very talented in her work and a fantastic secretary," Hux responded, glancing over in your direction. "She has made a fantastic replacement." You smiled, happy to know Hux would still show you some form of kindness around the Commander.

"Hux," Commander Ren stated, "I'll trust your judgment here." He approached Hux slowly, giving him ample time to make your poor General tremble in fear. The Commander stopped inches from his face, his mask nearly touching the tip of Huxs' nose.

"If she makes so much as one mistake, she's gone."

Your face recoiled in disgust. "Well, what the fuck?" You thought to yourself. Did he actually doubt your abilities that much? Or was this all some sort of twisted test of your competence?

The Commander darted his head around, glaring at you in rage. Your body went completely stiff as his masked gaze penetrated your mind. A trill of pain surged through your temples, like something was digging around in your brain for any scrap of information. "That language of hers will not be tolerated either." He spat, looking back at Hux.

"My what? The hell is he talking about? I have yet to swear!" Your brain was spiraling out of control, and that trill of energy still surged throughout your brain.

His ego was disgustingly immense, not to mention he was a delusional idiot. The fool was making up down right lies about you, and to wait gain? He was already addressing Hux in such a disrespectful manner, he didn't need to take it out on you as well. But what even gave him the right to talk down to Hux in such a manner? He wasn't in any better of a position to lead than the General was, not to mention the fact that Hux was a lot easier to deal with, and a lot less moronic.

Commander Ren stood in place, his body shaking violently with rage. Huxs' body was also shaking, but his was out of fear. This was the first time you'd ever seen Hux so threatened by anyone. Usually, he presented such a mass amount of authority and dictation. But here, he was nothing more than a coward.

The Commander gave you an over-the-shoulder glance, and in that moment, you felt time stop. The world around you faded into black. Now, only you and him were in that room, and fear and panic began to rapidly set in. Your body had turned chillingly cold, and air escaped you.

A flash of light hit your eyes, his leather glove reflecting off the overhead chandelier. Before you could get a warning out, he slammed his fist into the wall next to Huxs' head. His curled hand punctured the metal frame, sending hundreds of small electrical sparks flying, leaving bare and broken wires in its wake.

"You teach her to show me some respect, or I will" Commander Ren hissed, his clenched fist now inches from Huxs' face.

Hux folded onto the metal floor, panting uncontrollably as the Commander hovered menacingly above him. You stood gazing at the pair of them, completely motionless, gulping down the fear that was now lodged in your throat. Your pupils shook in horror at what you had just seen, how absolutely horrid your new ship companion was.

Commander Ren glared at you, watching as every inch of your body trembled at his presence. He scoffed, storming out of the room with a prompt slam of the door, the sheer force alone causing you to jump. You looked back at Hux, whose forehead was drenched in sweat, and a slight tremor was visible on his hands. Carefully, as not to frighten him more, you reached down for his hand, an effort to help guide him up off of the floor.

"General..." You pleaded, wrapping your hand around his own as you began to lift. Hux shook you away, pulling himself off of the ground, trying not to show weakness. It was obvious that he was embarrassed of your viewing of his encounter with Commander Ren, but he shouldn't have been. All that quarrel showed was the fact Commander Ren was a prissy little bitch, and tyrant.

Hux dusted off his long coat, and smoothed back his red hair to its original, kept manner. He bit his lip, holding himself back from lashing out against anything the Commander had just done. You hoped he would do it anyway, give you some sort of hint that he too hated Commander Rens guts. But instead, he stared intensely at the door, his eyes becoming bloodshot with rage.

"If you want to make it out of here alive," Hux gulped, "you must to do as he says."

You scoffed in disbelief. "Hux you cannot possibly believe that," you cried. "He isn't as high and mighty as he claims to b-"

Hux slammed his hand over your mouth, his bare fingers tracing over the lining of your lips. His eyes stared painfully into your own, showing so much fear and uncertainty. "I told you to do as he says!" He hollered, the veins in his neck protruding from his already rose colored flesh. Hux removed his hand from over your mouth, and with another brush of his cape, he was gone out the doorway too, much less dramatically than the Commander.

You turned around, looking at the meeting room remorsefully. Your life had just flipped completely upside down, and you know now that you had no say in anything that would happen to it. Hux obviously wasn't going to be any help in standing up against Commander Rens' tyranny, so it looked like you were on your own.

And you hated being on your own.

You walked back to the ship with shane covering your entire body. Every person who passed by you, whether it was a technician or a stormtrooper, seemed to be mocking you. While that wasn't at all the case, Commander Rens' doubt of your capabilities made it seem like everyone else doubted them as well.

As you turned a corner, so flustered and furious you didn't even know what planet you were on, another secretary slammed into you, spilling an incredibly hot and sticky liquid all over your uniform. "Oh my Gods, I am so sorry!" The girl whimpered, reaching for a cloth towel at her side to try and help dry you off.

You clenched your jaw tightly, worried all your rage might come flying out at her. She looked to be so incredibly overworked and stressed, just like you were about to be. You wondered if she had ever dealt with Commander Ren, or maybe her own General was just as terrible as he was, though you doubted that was humanly possible. You hated to admit it as much as the next person, but the treatment of secretaries, especially those that were female, could not have been more horrendous. Every one you had encountered had a horror story, or was currently living through one. Thankfully, your first job was with someone like Hux, a lot more patient and caring than any other. Thoughts crossed your mind of how awful your life would've been if your first job was to Commander Ren. Just the idea alone sent shivers down your spine.

The girl finally finished drying off the excess with a little help from you, but your clothes were soaked with whatever fluid she dumped onto you. Her eyes slowly began to swell up with tears as she stared at your ruined uniform.

"Hey," you said, taking her hand in your own. “There’s no need to cry. I'll go clean it myself, and it'll be good as new, don't worry."

She sniffled, reaching her other hand up to wipe the tears off of her face. Never could you have managed to snap at that girl, because you knew exactly what kind of suffering she was going through, as you had just dealt with the worst of it all. The girl hugged you in gratitude before scurrying back to wherever she came from, getting a replacement for the drink she had dropped. You took in a deep breath as you dreadfully looked down at your tarnished gown. Starkiller base was not somewhere you were familiar with, so finding a washroom was going to be far greater task than it should have been.

For what seemed like hours, you scanned each and every room across the vastness of the ship, hoping to finally find an area for you to clean off your soiled uniform. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched a stormtrooper exit a room with a fully washed, black undergarment, and you knew you had finally found your sought for destination. Rushing into the room, you hoped no one else would be inside, so you could quickly rip off your uniform and wash it without anyone seeing you in nothing but a bra and underwear.

Thankfully, no one was inside the washroom, giving you ample time to strip practically nude, and lock the door behind you as to not allow anyone to barge in.

Staring blankly at the machine that scrubbed and cleansed your attire, the chill of the empty room you sat in was beginning to sting your bare skin, your hair sticking up and goosebumps forming across every inch of it.

The process could not have taken any longer, but finally, it was washed, and ready to be moved to the next machine for drying. Minutes passed by as you sat in the cold and ever darkening room, rubbing up against the warm drying machine periodically as to not die of hypothermia.

"For God's sake, can you just hurry up!" You cried, slamming your foot against the machine, hoping that would throw it into a faster gear.

It did no good, the machine kept carrying on at its slow pace, causing nothing but agony and frustration on your part. You groaned, flopping back into the chair you had been sitting in, only for it to crumble into a hundred tiny pieces as you flopped yourself onto it.

"Mother fucker!" You groaned, lifting yourself off of the cold, metal floor. A bruise was clearly about to form upon your ass after that downfall.

"Language, cadet. That mouth will get you nowhere."

You spun around quickly, leaving your bra-covered breasts completely exposed to the eyes of Commander Ren, who now stood perfectly centered at the entrance of the washroom, the door closed behind him. Your eyes jolted to the lock that was now unfastened on the doorway, yet upon making eye contact, it clicked back into a locked position. Looking down, you noticed Commander Rens' finger was out of place from the rest of his clenched fist, and though at first you had no idea how he managed to weasel his way in here, now you did.

"The force?" You questioned in the back of your mind, watching the pointer finger retreat back to its clenched position.

His head tilted down, obviously showing his gaze had shifted from your eyes, to your almost fully naked body. You covered as much of yourself as you could, feeling completely flustered that so much of you was exposed to his eyes.

"What?" You asked. "Planning on insulting me again? Just get out."

"You're hung up on that?" He questioned, letting a small chuckle escape his throat. "I could have said so much worse."

You rolled your eyes at him, now hoping to make him so angry he would storm out like he did before. "Good for you, Commander. I'm sure you could've."

Silence reigned in the room longer than you would've preferred it to. You had hoped he would make some ridiculous, insulting statement so you could fire back at it, but he was silent.

"Do you mind?" You questioned, tilting your head towards the doorway so he could take the hint to leave.

"The ship was supposed to depart exactly 17 seconds ago," he remarked, keeping his gaze on your chest area, "Hux was going to be sent after you, if I didn't choose to."

You curled your lip sarcastically, letting out a small laugh along with it. "Well thank you so much for that, sir," you said sarcastically, again, gesturing towards the door in hopes that he would leave.

There was a long pause, giving you time to reflect on what he had just said. He would've had no knowledge your uniform had been soiled, tarnished by that poor girls dropped beverage.

So how the fuck did he know you were here?

He stood motionless. The only noise he exuded was the almost asthmatic breathing sounds from his mask. "Finish whatever task this is." Commander Ren instructed, finally moving his gaze away from your body.

He turned to the doorway, giving you a final glance before opening the door, and exiting the room. You stared at the metal frame in disbelief, the fact the Commander had just seen you in arguably your most venerable state was horrifying and embarrassing.

A slight movement on the door caught your attention, as the knob shifted back to its locked position. "Jeez, how kind of him," you scolded, turning back to the dryer that had finally finished its job, of course, right after the Commander had left.

After unlocking the door to the washroom, adorning your freshly cleaned uniform, you sprinted down the halls towards the bay. Thankfully, there wasn't a line of people standing outside the washroom waiting to use it themselves. For if they had seen the Commander in there with you, things would have just gotten so much more complicated.

You marched down the halls, now thinking about how ridiculously awkward your next several months of encounters with the Commander would be, now that your second meeting with him was when you were practically naked.

“Gods. This day cannot get any worse."

#star wars #kylo ren #ben solo #adam driver #kylo x you #kylo x reader #general hux #love triangle #smut #star wars fluff #sequels #stormtrooper #x reader

63 notes · View notes

blessednereid · 4 years ago

Text

LFLLLL Prologue: Project Partners

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

WC: 5k

Taglist: @rogershoe

╭╼|══════════|╾╮

You

╰╼|══════════|╾╯

While you were in the car, all you could think about was what got you in the position that you were in. With Lydia, with Isaac, caught in the middle of a murder investigation because of your brother and his friend.

Everything that used to make sense to you was crumbling. Your guards and your walls were dissipating with every waking moment.

It all started in September, and along the twenty-minute drive, you were determined to figure out how you got to your position. Even if it meant going through every single event that has happened since you met Isaac Lahey.

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Project Announcement

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

You were in your World History class. The unit you were currently learning about was The Industrial Revolution. Though, you weren't paying attention to the warm-up on the board. Instead, you were listening to Lydia recall the events that lead to her latest hookup before class started.

"So basically after we left the club, he told me that he wanted to show me something at his house. Obviously, I was feeling-"

"Alright, class. Settle down." Your teacher, Mrs. Goldblatt, had started speaking, and Lydia quickly stopped talking. The last time Lydia was caught talking over Mrs. GB was the previous year, and she had detention for half a month and missed practice.

"Today, I'm assigning you a project. Yes, you will be working in pairs. No, you won't get to choose your partners."

She turned to the board and wrote the words 'European Industrialization'.

"You will make a presentation about a country, as well as the ways they used industrialization. And you will add how it relates to modern industrialization today."

You groaned, but the rest of the class stayed silent. Your teacher didn't seem to notice as she continued speaking.

"You will write on a slip of paper the names of a maximum of two students who you cannot get along with and give it to me in five minutes. I don't want any arguments in my class."

You took a slip of paper from your bag and wrote the names: Christina Goldblatt, your teachers' daughter, who was a stuck-up brat, and Isaac Lahey. You had heard from former partners of his that he was quiet and hard to read. Seeing as how you had to communicate actively with a partner, you felt like you couldn't work with him.

"Also, seeing as how there is one extra student in this class, my daughter Christina has elected to work by herself."

The five-minute timer soon went off, and everyone walked to the front to give their teacher a white sheet of paper with their name and one or two more on it.

Once she had the slips of paper, she began working on partner assignments. She told the rest of the students to work on their nearly due classwork and then finish missing work.

You had decided to ignore her and work on your one missing assignment. You felt like you would be able to focus more without the worry of finishing it later.

Within twenty minutes, she had finished the pairings and called out names. Apparently, these would also determine your seating positions for the rest of the project duration, which would last three weeks.

She called out the names starting in alphabetical order, skipping names she had already called with their partner. You only paid attention to the pairings of your friends.

"Mahealani, Danny, and Martin, Lydia." Lydia tried to argue her way into working with you, which only prompted your teacher to threaten her with another detention.

"McCall, Scott, and Stilinski, Stiles," she said, which was confusing seeing the chaos they caused when together.

She went through all the names, even down to the Z's skipping your name. Lastly, there were four people left.

"Zabka, Madeline, and Zabka, Madison," she finished.

Finally, there were just two people left: You and Isaac Lahey. You knew this was why she skipped you. She had heard your protests when she started every lesson. You assumed she ignored it because she favored you for some reason. When in reality, she was pairing you up with the one person whose personality most clashed with yours.

"But, Mrs. Goldblatt, why can't I work with Lydia? Lydia and I do projects well together, and we have a good partnership."

"Ms. Stilinski, I already told you that you can't pick your partner. Have a seat!"

You smiled bitterly, and though you gracefully walked to your assigned seat, on the inside, you wanted to storm out of the classroom and sulk in the library.

Spurs of conversation spun about in front of you, and the lack of communication between you and your partner made you feel like you were stuck in the worst corner of hell. It made you feel lonely when you weren't alone.

You glanced at your partner, who was beside you. His head was down, and his eyes refused to look anywhere but his paper. He didn't look like he was focused, more like he was trying to look anywhere that wasn't you.

"So, it looks like we're partners…" you said wistfully.

He looked at you and shrugged before his eyes darted back to his desk, and he found the wood chippings on the side more enticing than before.

"You do know you have to talk to me if we're going to do this project. You have to talk to me."

He glanced your way, and you now held his attention, but his silence was unwavering.

"Say something, please?" He remained silent.

You groaned and banged your head on the desk.

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Mall (One Week Later)

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

"Lydia, I just can't do it," you said before sipping your strawberry lemonade cooler. You were on your lunch break at your job, and Lydia had come to visit you.

"He's so hard to work with. We've had three meetings, and he hasn't said a single word to me. The most he's said is correcting me on a grammar error through a piece of paper."

You popped another pretzel nugget into your mouth.

"I just don't know, Lyds."

"Well, hun." She sighed. "Maybe try getting to know him."

"Lydia," you uttered stolidly. "He won't talk to me. How will I get to know him."

"Take him out to a park. Spin him around on those merry go round until he pukes. Then he'll be forced to talk."

"Lydia, I don't want him to hate me.

"I don't know. I just wish that GB gave me detention instead of partnering me with him."

Lydia sighed. "Y/n, go do something fun with him in an environment that doesn't make you wanna pull your pretty gorgeous hair out."

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Carnival

╚═══*.·:��.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

When Isaac came over to your house the next day, you already had your jacket on and convinced Stiles to let you take the car.

You led him out to the Jeep, and both hopped inside. When you started driving, Isaac was confused, but he still didn't say anything.

"Isaac."

He turned his head and hummed.

"I could be kidnapping you, and you still won't talk to me…" you remarked.

He turned his attention back to the window without saying another word.

You parked a decent distance away from your destination, wanting to see Isaac's reaction when he saw the carnival.

You began walking in silence, but somehow today, it was a peaceful silence. You thought that maybe it was the anticipation of the festivities or the notion you had that today would be the day he said something to you.

You paused for a moment, which prompted him to do the same. He turned to you, and you stepped forward and grabbed both his hands. His four fingers rested between your thumbs and the side of your pointer fingers calmly, and his thumb caressed your wrist absentmindedly.

"I don't know…" you tapped your foot while speaking. "I don't know why you don't like me. And I'll admit, maybe trying to get rid of you as a partner was a surefire way to get started off on the wrong foot."

Isaac's brows remained furrowed, and his gaze was fixed on you.

"But I want to change that… If you'll let me. Because you seem like a really cool person, and I want to get to know you."

Isaac pulled his hands out of yours and started walking in the direction that you lead him. You sighed at the action before he turned around.

"Where are we going?" he said blankly, but his voice made you smile. You started running ahead of him.

"Follow me!"

You both broke off into a run and only slowed down when you neared the entrance of the fairgrounds. You purchased two tickets for both of you before dragging Isaac inside the black metal gates.

"Ah, so this is where you're kidnapping me… Alright, where do I go to be tied up, Ms. Stilinski? And would this interfere with your dads' job perchance?"

His voice made you smile and laugh, and then he began to laugh as well.

"I'm sorry, that was a bad joke," he said, still laughing.

"No! It was a great joke."

You grabbed his hand and pulled him to the line for the carousel.

"You know, I've never actually been to a fair," you muttered.

"Me either. My mom used to tell me she would take me on my birthdays, but something always came up, so she would find creative things to do in the house."

"You make it sound like she can't take you anymore?" you frowned.

"She can't. She's dead." He said the words so calmly, but it made your heart immediately break into a million pieces.

"How'd she die?"

"Car crash."

You faltered. "I'm assuming you don't want a hug?"

"Why would you assume that?"

"When my mom died, people always gave me hugs as if that would bring her back, and I hated it."

"How did your mom die?"

"Frontotemporal dementia," you said. "Incurable."

"Damn," he deadpanned.

Soon you had reached the front of the line and boarded the carousel. You opted to take the pegasus with wings which were next to the black horse Isaac sat on.

The horses began spinning, and you noticed Isaac didn't look like he was having much fun.

"You alright?"

"These don't go fast, do they?"

"No, they don't. These rides are meant for kids, Lahey."

"Kids or not, this is way too slow."

When you got off the carousel, you didn't tell Isaac what ride you were going to next.

"Cover your eyes," you said blankly.

"There are hundreds of people here, Y/n. I'm not trying to actually get kidnapped."

You chuckled. "Ha-ha, Don't worry, I won't let the monsters get you."

He allowed you to step behind him and cover his eyes, but you were only able to walk a few steps before his height made your arms ache from stretching.

"Okay, I can't do this. It's whatever."

You laughed. "Just follow me, okay."

He grabbed onto your arms, and you chose to believe that he had his eyes closed.

You dragged Isaac through the fairgrounds once more before finding your spot in line. You spun him around, facing the opposite way so he couldn't see the ride.

"Do I really have to face the other way?" he said.

"Yes, you do!" you smirked triumphantly.

"Is it just so you can trick me into going back on the carousel?"

"Maybe…" He chuckled darkly at your comment.

"You know, I really like hearing your voice," you said calmly.

"Oh yeah? Well, I mean, I do have a pretty good voice."

You chuckled this time, his cockiness ignited something in you, and you felt alive for the first time since you two had started working together.

"You do… You should let more people hear it."

Every step you advanced in the line caused you to pull Isaac forward, but his mysterious demeanor pulled you to him.

"Alright, you can turn around now."

When he spun around, he cursed aloud. "Holy shit!"

In front of him stood one of the tallest drop towers he had ever seen.

When you reached the front of the line, you got onto the seats in the tower. Your stomach gurgled angrily in anticipation.

"You ready?" Isaac asked you. He had a wide grin plastered on his face, and he looked like a kid in a candy store.

Before you could answer, the tower rocked as it started to move up.

"Guess it doesn't matter now!"

You both looked out the windows beside your heads.

It was filled with colors, and everything looked minuscule.

You were slightly scared of the drop, but you found comfort in Isaac's smile. He never smiled, so for him to smile so brightly, it made you proud that you could draw that emotion from him.

The ride stopped for one minute. Then two. Suddenly it was 5 minutes.

Everyone began to wonder what had happened to the ride until the sudden drop.

The ride was filmed with shrilly screams. The sight in front of you blurred with the speed of the drop. Your ears popped from the sudden drop in altitude. Your heart stopped for moments, and you thought for a minute instead of falling back to the ground, you were going to meet your maker.

"AHHHHHHHHHH!" Your screams resonated fear, but Isaac's eyes told you he only felt excitement.

You couldn't feel your hair on your shoulders, and you knew the speed and force were probably holding it in the air.

The ride had stopped. Your eyes were still bulging out of your head, and you felt sick in your stomach.

Isaac was still chuckling and didn't look the least bit shaken or stirred.

"HOW CAN YOU BE ALRIGHT AFTER THAT?"

"I don't know, I just felt… Free!"

"C'mon, let's go, weirdo."

Isaac stopped you once you exited the ride and pulled away from the line.

"Let me pick the next ride, yeah?" Isaac asked you.

"Sure."

He put his hands over your eyes and began pushing you towards your next destination. When he removed his hands, you were at the front of the line to get on the twisting roller coaster.

"We're going on that thing?"

"Yep!"

You blanched. "Isaac, I'll fall out the first time it goes bump."

He pulled you onto the ride anyways and buckled you in so that you couldn't go anywhere.

"Don' worry, you'll have fun."

"Oh, I know I'll have fun. I'm almost certain I'll die while having fun."

He chuckled and grabbed your hand from your bar that was in front of you.

"Better?"

You smiled, turned to the front, and waited for the ride to start.

When the carts began moving, it started at a tortuously slow speed, and you were actually feeling good; you knew that Isaac was probably bored.

"Aw, you picked a slow ride just for me?" you teased.

He simply chuckled before turning his head to the front, and your brows knitted in a frown.

You gave your attention to where his eyes were, but you didn't see anything that could cause the gleam of deviltry in his eyes.

He kept checking his watch, but when he did look up from it, he gave you a subtle wink and let go of your hand.

"AHHHHH!" You shrieked at the top of your lungs when the cart dipped down at the highest speed you thought imaginable.

The blue sky streaked past your view. If you were to imagine how you looked to others, you imagined the flesh around your mouth blowing in the wind cartoonishly and your hair visibly disheveled. You gripped harshly onto the metal rail in front of you, and the bars were so cold from being outside, you thought they would crack had you applied any more force.

The ride went like this often, going from slow and steady, allowing you to catch your breath, to energetically and rapidly fast, knocking the wind out of you completely.

"Having fun?" Isaac shouted in your ear, but you could barely hear past the whipping of the wind.

"NO!"

Whoops, and cheers could be heard from beside you as Isaac was screaming into the void, and you felt there wasn't enough hot coffee or burning fireplaces that could warm you up after this.

When the ride had reached its end, you had to blink slowly multiple times to recover from the wind that glazed them with cold air.

"You!" Isaac chuckled at your tone. "You did this to me! I feel like an ice block!" You shouted sarcastically.

"Aw, well, let's go warm you up then."

You growled at him as you got off the cart, but he held you in his arms to warm you up until you were able to get inside the safety of an insulated building.

"So, you got what you wanted," Isaac said slyly.

"To have my heart jumping in my body from my shoulders, knees, and toes?"

He chuckled. "No, I mean for me to talk."

"I guess I did."

"Why?"

"I like talking to people, I guess."

He smiled at you, and you reciprocated his grin.

"So, are we ever going to finish that assignment?"

"We can go right now and finish it if you want, but we still have two weeks to do it."

His forehead puckered in thought. "You're right. Let's finish the day here."

╔═════*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═════════╗

Research and Reports(One Week Later)

╚═════*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═════════╝

"Okay, now that we're done with info collection, we have to pick a theme…" you trailed off when you noticed Isaac wasn't paying attention.

"Isaac," you said while snapping your fingers in front of his face.

"You like ABBA?"

"Who doesn't like ABBA? Enough of that, we have to finish working. We only have a week left."

Isaac shot up from his chair and began to inspect the numerous posters on your walls with album covers of your favorite artists, movie premiere covers, pictures of you and your friends throughout the years.

"This is really cool!"

You sighed heavily. "I know it's cool, but I want to finish this project. I'm on a productive streak."

"We just started school like, two weeks ago. Why do we have a project?"

"Isaac!"

He raised his hands in defeat. "Okay, fine."

You groaned. "This is pointless. Education is pointless. I'm gonna become a stripper anyway."

Isaac's face heated up. "No, you won't. Your dad would kill you."

"I was actually looking up some themes last night. Put these in your search engine."

"Okay, but wait." You now held his attention. "Who calls it a search engine?"

You began laughing maniacally, and he grinned. "No, but I'm serious. Who has time to say all of that?"

You did what he told you and put different words related to the industrial period and the words "free theme" in your browser.

He had found almost five different themes for you to choose one from that would fit your project.

"Just didn't want to do extra work by making our own theme," he said modestly.

Suddenly, he noticed that your phone had a paper towel sticking out of the case and wrapping around the camera.

"Y/n… why is there toilet paper covering your camera?"

"Oh, that. It's so if people try to video-call me, I can lie and say my camera is broken."

"But why?" he asked, concerned.

You sighed. "I just don't wanna show my face to people today."

"But I can see your face clearly," he squinted while pushing a lock of hair out of your eyesight.

"You're an exception."

"But not the only exception?"

"No, it's you, Stiles, my dad, and Lydia."

He chuckled.

"Let's do this one," you said when you finished analyzing how each theme looked and the possibilities they had.

You and Isaac began typing on your laptop. You would take turns rotating between typing and reciting in thirty-minute increments.

By six p.m. that Sunday night, you had practically worked yourself to death and finished the assignment.

When you finished the credits slide, you frowned absentmindedly, but Isaac noticed.

"What's wrong, you don't like it?"

"No, I like it, it's just that…" you sighed. "We present it, and then what happens?"

"We get a good grade?" Isaac was genuinely confused and didn't know you were talking about what would happen with the two of you and your friendship.

"Would you say that you only started talking to me because of the project?"

His brows furrowed. "Yes, but wha-"

"And would you say that once the project ends… we would stop talking?"

Isaac sighed once he realized what you meant. "No, Y/n. I genuinely like talking to you."

Your face heated up at his words, and you felt yourself become at ease.

"Whew, okay. Nap or TV?"

Isaac felt himself right back to square one, confusion. "What?"

"Since we're done with the project, do you want to take a nap, or do you want to watch TV?"

"Are you sure your dad doesn't mind?"

"I don't know, but I don't think he would. Stiles always has Scott over. This should be fine. I do it with all my friends."

"O-okay," he murmured.

You jumped softly onto your bed and shuffled to find the remote, turning on the TV and patting down on the spot beside you.

"What do you want to watch?"

He told you that anything was fine, so you opted to watch My Babysitters a Vampire.

He stared at you incredulously.

You chirped at him. "What is it?"

"No, nothing."

"It has to be something? You don't wanna watch this."

"Alright, fine. It looks like a show for kids!"

You laughed. "That's because it is a show for kids! But it's interesting, so we're watching it unless you have something better."

When the episode started, you began chanting along with the theme song, and Isaac stared at you with doe-eyes.

When it was finished, you gave his glance your attention.

"What?" He simply shook his head in response and paid attention to the television.

By the time the next episode started, Isaac's head was on a pillow in your lap. Your legs were crossed, and your fingers threaded their way through his very silky tresses.

There was a suspenseful moment, and Isaac gripped onto your wrist, making you chuckle in your mind.

"Oh my gosh, did it just get hot in here?" You were feeling a flash of heat surge through your body and didn't know where it came from.

"Uh, I don't think so? Want me to get you some water?"

"Uh, no, it's fine! I'll just go get us some fruit bars. Do you want Mango or Strawberry?"

After he told you, you went to get a mango pop for yourself and a strawberry one for him. When you reached the kitchen, you splashed water onto your face to cool off.

You jogged back up the stairs and into your room. "Your strawberry freezy pop is coming right up!"

He giggled at your antics and allowed you to settle back into your position on the bed.

"Sorry, I watched without you."

"Oh, it's fine. I've seen the entire thing like 3 times."

That night when he left, you had a warm feeling in your heart, but you couldn't place what it felt like exactly.

Before you went to sleep, you made sure that the assignment was saved onto your flash drive and went to bed.

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Presentations(One Week Later)

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

A week later, and it was the first day of presentations. Surprisingly, Isaac volunteered for the pair of you to present first. The nerves in your stomach were fumbling around and curling against each other so roughly you could barely speak.

Routinely, you and Lydia would go last. Silently comparing your projects with others and finding things your class liked about other presentations that you also did coincidentally. You did this to calm your nerves. But as you were going first, your routine wasn't doable.

Isaac had finished the slides that he was supposed to say, and then it was your turn.

You gulped and tried to muster the courage to start saying your lines. You felt sick in your stomach for a while. You felt the room freeze around you as if you were out in the snow with no jacket. You only started feeling more at ease when you felt Isaac's thumb rubbing against the back of your hand soothingly, along with Lydia and Stiles' encouraging smiles in the crowd. You were still nervous, but they were the eyes of your storm.

"Our modern technology today relates to the industrial period because…"

When your presentation was over, you let the applause fill your ears, but that wasn't what made the nerves go away. What made it go away was Isaac's proud gaze beading into your soul, and it made the world fade away.

Mrs. Goldblatt shooed you both away from the screen and back to your seats but gave you a piece of paper that you assumed was your score sheet.

You had gotten a 93%, but there was a pink note card that told you to meet her after class along with Isaac.

You sighed heavily and finished the walk back to your seat.

You and Isaac were in the back of the class and were okay to talk without a worry.

"What was that about, Y/n?"

"What do you mean?"

He sighed thoughtfully. "You just froze. I didn't think you froze."

You gulped, wondering whether or not you should share your fear with your new friend.

"I have stage fright..."

"What do you mean? You're a cheerleader. I've seen you perform."

"That's an ensemble act. When I'm by myself like that, I just tense up, and normally I say the wrong things. That's why I always go last."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

You dropped your head. "I didn't know you were going to volunteer to go first."

"I always do, to get it out the way." His eyes were soft and caring.

"It's not your fault Isaac. Besides, I didn't mess up that badly anyway. We're okay."

"But I still wouldn't have done that had I known."

"I appreciate your sympathy, but really, It's okay!" You reassured him softly, and you truly meant it. He had made you get over it, so it felt wrong for you to make him feel bad for something he wasn't aware of.

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═════╗

Student-Teacher Conference

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═════╝

"Yes, Mrs. Goldblatt?" You spoke nervously while shifting around in the seat in front of her desk.

"What is it?" she was still facing down to her laptop.

Isaac spoke up. "You wanted to see us?"

She raised her head. "Oh, yes!

"I wanted to tell you why I partnered you both together. In-person that is."

"Y/n, you must be thinking that I did it to punish you."

Isaac interjected. "What do you mean punishment?"

"Ms. Stilinski had put your name down for students she wouldn't work well with."

"But besides that. I didn't do it to punish you. I did it because I wanted you to reach out of your comfort zone. Both of you. Ms. Stilinski, you typically work with people who are very talkative in class. Namely, Lydia.

"Isaac, I've heard from your partners that you are not as talkative. I put you two together because I knew this assignment would be easy to understand for you both. However, I assume the communication was not as simple?"

You both shook your heads.

"No, but you managed through it, and now you both will be able to socialize with people who have more or less social skills than you do."

You glanced guiltily at Isaac, who was avoiding your gaze. You hadn't told him that you put his name down, and while your reasoning may not have been resembling hatred, you thought it would still sting.

"You both may go. Have a good day."

When you walked out of the room, Isaac took off ahead of you.

"Isaac!" You yelled as you ran to catch up with him through the bustling crowd trying to get to their next class.

"Isaac, I swear, I only wrote your name down because I wanted a partner that was more… communicative."

"You could've told me," he stated simply, still not looking at you.

You pulled his arm back to stop him from walking before extending your arm to grab his chin and force him to face you.

"I'm sorry. It didn't seem important then, but I see how it could look bad now. You're a really great partner, Isaac. And I've said it before, and I'll repeat it, I'd love nothing more than to be your friend."

He exhaled through his nose. "You know, for some stupid reason, I just can't stay mad at you."

You smiled at his words. "I've been told that I have that effect on people."

"See you tomorrow?"

You pushed your eyebrows downwards. "What do you mean? It's a Saturday?"

"For MBAV," he said simply.

"Ohhhh. Gotcha!"

"See you then, Isaac."

You turned the other way to go to your next class when your cheek was met with a brief peck.

"See you," he whispered in your ear, but a ghost when you turned around. The action made your heart speed up, and his touch left much to be desired.

62 notes · View notes

realm-sweet-realm · 4 years ago

Text

Repeating the Cycle

I thought I’d write a little story about ink infection, as well as Sammy’s role after he was transformed. It’s inspired by Shazzbaa’s theories (I’d say which, but we don’t want spoilers, now do we?)!

I’ll tell you guys later tonight about the future writing projects I have planned.

---

Sammy awoke in his sanctuary, as he had many times before. He hadn’t been to his apartment in... well, days anyhow. He felt better when he was near the ink. He tried the door to exit his private sanctuary, and it was locked. “Is this a sign?” he asked his lord. “Is it time?”

Yes, his lord spoke back.

Sammy smiled- smiled rather weakly, as the pain from his ink infection had been wearing on him heavily. “Finally.”

All the waiting. All the sickness. All the fear. It was time to see what it was all for. And his lord had assured him, with the comforting voice of a father to a young son, that it would be worth it.

Sammy dragged himself over to the leaking pipe that hung from the ceiling of his sanctuary and turned on the ink supply. Ink sputtered down onto Sammy’s face and clothes, and he fell to his knees, hands outstretched and mouth open as though he was staring into heaven itself. His heart was pounding. He was shaking from adrenaline, and not even being surrounded with, covered in, and consuming the ink that normally numbed his symptoms seemed to be helping. This had to be fear instead of withdrawal.

Do not be afraid, the voice comforted, you will have ascended in mere hours. I promise, you will be safe and healthy. I promise, it will be better than anything you’ve ever experienced.

“Thank you! Bendy, hear my praise! I want what you have for me! I crave your embrace!”

Sammy took a long suck of ink from the pipe, then laid down on the floor. He was weak. so weak.

That’s it. You’ve made it. You need only wait now.

Sammy trusted Bendy. Bendy told him that everything he’d done and experienced in his life- even the nightmarish last few years- was leading to something. It told him that everything was okay.

Sammy didn’t know how much time had passed when he felt Joey tying up his ankles. With some struggle, he sat up and tried to push Joey off of him, but it had little effect. Before long, Joey had finished on Sammy’s ankles and was straddling his chest to tie up his hands. The last thing he saw with his biological eyes was Joey’s knife slitting his throat.

When Sammy woke up, the voice of his lord was gone. By trying to make a toon out of him, Joey had robbed him of his ascension and severed his connection to him.

---

Grant awoke in his office to the horrid ticking of his Bendy clock and the array of whispering voices that had plagued him since early in his infection. The clock’s small hand pointed to six, but Grant had no idea whether it was morning or evening. Months of ink infection had ruined his sense of time. He tried the door to his office and found that it had been locked from the outside by chain and padlock. Grant laughed at the absurdity of it all- his life had spiralled into a nightmarish fever dream.

“Does this mean it’s time?” Grant asked.

Yes. Your time is almost up, the voice answered, and for once, Grant trusted it. He felt almost too tired from illness to care.

“I’ll do anything you ask to stop it.”

No response, except for those muttered voices. Grant hadn’t expected one- the voice rarely had his best interests in mind. He shuffled over to his desk and pushed aside some papers to go back to sleep- possibly for the last time.

And then he saw it- a report from Joey that he’d received mere days before his symptoms had started- ending with the words “Fix this or I’ll have your head!” angrily scrawled at the bottom.

That was it. Joey had done this to motivate him. He just had to figure out how to keep the studio from bankruptcy and he’d be cured!

Yes! Yes! You’re right. Fix it! the voice yelled.

Adrenaline flooded Grant’s system as he jerked open his filing cabinet with shaking hands in search of the necessary files to fix the budget. This was his one chance to survive. The muttering voices were screaming in his head- ear-piercing. His head felt ready to explode.

“Shut up and let me focus!” he screamed.

Ink will soothe your symptoms.

That was something that the voice had told him frequently. He hadn’t given in to it yet- not much, anyhow- because common sense told him that ink was inedible. It was also his sincere belief that the voice wanted to kill him. The voice had told him, back before the physical symptoms had become obvious, that he was merely losing his mind and needed to hide it from everyone, lest he be institutionalized. Then, as soon as the physical symptoms had taken root, it had changed its tune- he was losing his mind, because he was ill with an incurable, supernatural disease, and no hospital could help him, and going to one would only guarantee that he would be a test subject for the limited time he had left. Listening to it then had gotten him into this position, and he wasn’t eager to listen to it again.

But this was life or death. He opened the supply on the ink pipe that Thomas- for some reason he didn’t understand- had installed in his office, and drank deeply.

The voice- the muttering- the headache- it all stopped. Silence. Finally.

Grant’s hands were covered in ink now, and were sure to soak any paper he used. I can’t let that stop me. He dropped to his knees and started painting calculations on the floor.

The numbers didn’t add up. Not a single one. Was his mind was too frayed to do basic mathematical functions?! How could he fix anything, let alone this insurmountable debt, while he could barely think straight?! Calm down. Stay calm. Try again. Life or death. Time is money. What will Joey say?!

From the cracks within the wall, Sammy watched as Grant spiralled into panic and tears, and turned his office inside out trying to find anything that could help, expressing his fears through wall-writing, and attempting escape the room. Poor thing, Sammy thought, remembering the pain and uncertainty of his own ink infection, but soon I’ll be able to teach him the truth.

It had been years since Sammy’s sacrifice. Not only did Sammy still work for Joey now that he was a failed toon, Joey had him on a schedule. Every day at 11:00 AM, Sammy would ooze through the walls of Joey’s office for their morning meeting. Sammy wasn’t particularly happy about doing anything for the man who had turned him into a failed Boris just as he was about to fulfill a higher destiny, but the voice had once told him that to follow Joey was to follow his lord, and now those previous words (which Sammy had recorded and studied every day) were all he had left as a doctrine to follow. Sammy hoped that with enough obedience and service, his lord would see past his ruined body and grant him his destiny.

Joey’s demands were often difficult, but they were simple: sacrificing specific people into specific toons, and looking after the infected. Joey rarely sacrificed people on his own anymore, and instead relied on Sammy to do the dirty work of knocking people out, killing them on pentagrams, and then dealing with the resulting dead body, blood and ink-stains on the floor, and whatever abomination came out of the ink machine. Looking after the ink-infected was easier: keep an eye on them, and once they become too infected to be useful, lock them in their offices or in infirmary rooms and take them to their prison in the basement come night. Sammy had overseen the infection of nearly thirty people by now and had sacrificed dozens.

Thankfully, Joey’s demands were not very time-intensive, and he had plenty of time for his passion: teaching the lost ones about their lord and saviour, Bendy.

The lost ones lived in a prison in the very basement of Joey Drew Studios, along with the failed toons. Sammy’s sermons were some of the only times they were allowed out of their cages, and so they were always happy to see him.

Some agreed with him. Often, these were the same ones who had heard a comforting voice as they were infected- generally those with a religious background. Others thought him insane. Their voice had been different- wrong- hallucinatory- and quite often threatening. Sammy had these lost ones do penance in order to find their way to Bendy. Some found him, leaving Sammy feeling accomplished, but also jealous that he could never have what they had. Hopefully, his lord would see the wonderful work he was doing and one day ascend him along with the rest of them- because surely, that was not their final form.

Today’s meeting was like any other. Sammy waited in the walls until Joey’s 10:30 client left, and then slithered out before him.

“Anything to report?” Joey asked casually, as he looked over some paperwork. These meetings were usually uneventful.

“Two people are currently under quarantine. Three more are infected but still able to work for now. Everything is fine- except for one small detail. One of the people under quarantine is destroying his office out of fear. If you’d like, I could tie him up snug until he transforms, or force-feed him ink to speed the process along.”

Joey considered this. "Hmm... well, I do need an Edgar. He would work as well as any. Are you sure he’s close to transforming?” All ink-infected people had strange beliefs and delusions (except for Sammy, of course- his visions were absolute truth), but by this point in their infection, they were generally too tired to do anything destructive- especially ones like this one, who had increased the duration of their infection by resisting the urge to drink ink.

“It will be a matter of hours,” Sammy assured.

“Well, that’s not convenient, but I do have lunch right after this. I’ll get the Charley down to the basement, and you get the Barley and Edgar. The Barley’s name is Lacie Benton, and I’d suggest you knock her out before taking her anywhere- she’s a tough one. But the Edgar shouldn’t be a problem, right?”

“No... I suppose not.” Severely ink-infected people were, without exception, very weak, and Sammy was stronger now than he’d ever been as a human.

“Alright! See you down there as soon as possible.”

Sammy nodded, slunk back into the walls, and cursed everything, especially his order to obey Joey Drew. A severely ink infected person had never, and would never, produce a good toon- part of their souls had already been connected to the other lost ones. Joey must have known that, but he still insisted on stealing the people that were meant to be Sammy’s to guide, probably because in Joey’s mind, killing a person was murder but killing a lost one (or someone who soon would be a lost one) was not. Joey didn’t see his people as equally human, and it sickened Sammy. Nonetheless, he slithered through the walls until he came upon Grant’s office.

The office looked like a madhouse. The floors and walls were coated with repetitive writing. Furniture had been strewn about. Grant himself was curled against the ink pipe in his office, covered in so much ink that Sammy had thought he was already transformed before he realized he still had hair. The poor thing had tried so hard, while so sick, at something so futile. Sammy had his orders, but he wasn’t going to lay a hand on his sheep-that-wouldn’t-be until he had to.

Sammy slithered out of the wall- slowly, so as not to scare him.

“Who are you?” Grant asked. He sounded so tired of all the supernatural surprises that he barely cared.

“I’m here on behalf of Joey Drew,” Sammy began.

“I’m so sorry. I tried... but I couldn’t. I suppose you’re here to kill me, aren’t you?”

“No. I’m here to give you congratulations. The others in your department were able to use these brilliant calculations,” Sammy gestured widely at the messily scrawled gibberish on a wall, “to make a plan. The studio is going to avoid bankruptcy, and you’re going to be cured. Come with me.” Sammy offered Grant his hand. Grant took it, and Sammy helped him up.

“I-I don’t understand. I don’t understand how-” All of those calculations... Grant would have guessed that they were worthless.

“Shh... you’ll be clearer-headed soon. Just come with me, now. I can’t be out there where everyone can see me, but go to the elevator, go to the bottom floor, and I will be there. I promise- you will be fine.”

“Thank you so much. But, my door-”

Sammy slithered back into the wall. Grant heard the click of a door unlocking, followed by the clink of chains falling limp. His office door was unlocked. Do I trust him? Grant asked himself. This day kept getting stranger. If I don’t, I’m guaranteed to die. I have nothing to lose.

Sammy slithered into the wooden floor of the elevator and only reappeared once the elevator hit the very bottom.

“I’m sorry,” Sammy lamented “I want to lead you to Bendy. I want you to find peace as one of my followers. But it is not in the cards.”

The two made brief eye contact- or would have, if Sammy’s face weren’t covered in mask. Grant, obviously, had no idea what Sammy was talking about. Then, Sammy grabbed Grant’s hair, slammed his head against the wall a few times to knock him out, tied him up for sacrifice, and left to find Lacie Benton.

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #my fanfiction #sammy lawrence #grant cohen #joey drew

29 notes · View notes

fourfucksake · 4 years ago

Text

online meeting

pairing: chris evans x black!fem!reader

warnings: cursing, stripping, masturbation

word count: 4.2k

p.s this workpiece is set in an alternative reality. this is a professor!chris one shot + i imagined y/n as a black girl, but i hope every single one of you lovely people will read!

Heaps of new policies bombarded universities since the spread of the virus. The amount of preparation and paperwork that had to be completed due to the newest conditions in the teaching system made everyone stressed to the maximum level. Perhaps, that’s why teachers communicated more during those challenging times; only those who work in the same environment can relate to your work frustrations. Individuals whom before appeared almost invisible where now your online buddies. It was quite incredible though.

Chris enjoyed the feeling of this community being available for him whenever he feels like expressing his irritations and or simply desires to moan about his dislikes. Before, he has never considered himself to be a whiner, but since everyone has been constantly moaning and pouting, he thought this is the right time to join the club.

Taking into consideration the current state of the world he was assured that everyone is a complainer right about now. He was okay with that though. No doubt, he didn’t know much about psychology, however, it seemed only logical to allow people to talk about how they feel. Also, it appeared plausible people felt scared, confused, or worried. Hey, these were very surreal times. There was no reason to make others feel bad about having emotions.

Of course, there was some resentment towards certain members of University since all the teaching went online. Sometimes, Chris felt like most of his colleagues gave rats ass about regulations and procedures that were now put in place. Instead of trying to provide the best learning experience possible, they restricted themselves to slamming all the work materials online for students to figure everything out on their own.

Personally, he found online teaching unbearable and exhausting. He hated it; there were no words to describe how much he despised it. At first it was alright; it was tolerable and doable. In a way, it was nice. Being at home, able to wake up later than early morning hours. Being with his dog and going on long walks wherever he wished. Being able to take his time with cooking, exercising, reading. All of those mentioned were exceedingly pleasant.

However, Chris chose to be a teacher. He loved spreading his knowledge around. Since an early age he would teach his younger brother; he was much help when it came to revising, essay or exam tips. This was his passion, he loved it. This pandemic undeniably took this away from him. However, there was still room to provide students with knowledge this way, and he tried extremely hard to do so in most effective ways.

For example, he did not have to orchestrate his own online meetings to be this long. Half an hour, that was a long time slot. This was planned completely on purpose. Ultimately, his desire was to provide students with the time to talk to him, express their concerns, and ask questions. Maybe he took this job way too seriously, he thought, and it wasn't needed. However, there’s always this teacher everyone likes, and Chris wanted to be precisely that guy. It wasn't some stupid ego thing, not at all. He genuinely wanted people to feel like he is there for them and wants them to succeed. Every single individual had an ability to be successful, some just needed an extra push too keep them on track. Although his own schooling experiences where genuinely pleasant, he knew he would benefit more from University experience if he had a teacher like him. Not to lick his own ass, he thought, of course.

After years of working in the schooling system no errors have ever occurred. Until last year, when the last class prior to pandemic began their college journey. Back then and there a problem has arisen – you. It was no one else than little Miss Perfect, the girl who made him look twice when she entered the room. Oh, how tiring and fatiguing crushing on you really was. Chris was always collected and focused while working, but with you in his classes he found himself distracted. Often losing his train of thought, his mind shifted to dark places when your class sat in front of him. Chris was a perfectionist, so this was, in fact, greatly infuriating for him.

He did not feel this way since high school. Back in the day he was not the coolest kid you could walk past in the corridor. Thankfully, he has never had his head shoved in the toilet, but not being bullied did not necessarily mean there’s a successful high school experience behind an average American. In his own opinion, he was just a normal kid that had nothing to show for back then.

Precisely that, being average, was now the reason behind this familiar feeling. A pretty girl, a popular girl causing vivid emotions to flush down himself. Looking at her while she does the most ordinary things was the reason behind the uncomfortable state in his pants. His hormones went ill around her, reminding him of how tough being a teenage boy with no control over his erections was. It felt so familiar, craving her this badly, almost as if he’s done it before. Maybe, in a way, he compared you to someone he crushed on for the whole duration of high school. A beautiful skin complexion, addictive smile and those big, shiny eyes staring at his soul; those qualities of yours highly reminded him of her.

Chris remembered that girl very well. He recalled being fascinated by her presence, by her strong personality, and hypnotic prettiness. Her name did not pop up in his mind for years. Until he met you. Chris had Pearl, Pearl Bennett, tattooed on his brain back then. Needless to say, it was embarrassing how annoyingly beautiful she was. Just like you. Now, he didn’t even know if she was alive, he hasn’t seen her for years. It never really bugged him then, it didn’t bug him now. It was just a pleasant memory that he was able to recollect because of you.

He wasn’t sure about your feelings towards him. Mr. Novak, his colleague, often commented on the way some students would look at him. Chris regularly heard Novak claiming that Evans could get any of “that young pussy” if he only snapped his fingers. Whether it was true or not, he had no idea. Maybe, he was just humble. Or stupid, possibly very stupid.

The house was practically unoccupied now; his wife was dropping groceries off at her mum’s house and Dodger was nowhere to be found, most likely sleeping someplace in the house. Chris did not mind. In fact, he was relieved to have no other human being here. Since pandemic began his marriage decreased in its quality drastically. For quite some time existing relationship brought more annoyance than joy. He was not sure if it went both ways but noticing how regularly his wife exited their house in recent times it was healthy to assume the feeling was mutual.

How did he feel about his failed marriage? Weirdly, he was awfully okay with it. There was not a single part of him that cared enough to fight for this marriage any longer. Right now, all his thoughts were concentrated around another female. How she managed to look delicious without trying. How she smiled or laughed. How her faced twisted with grumpy expressions once she didn’t understand a certain concept of a lecture. Chris could go on, and on, and on.

It was not possible he could describe you in any other word than perfect. It was quite pathetic, he thought, it shouldn't be like that. Yes, you are a pretty girl and yes, no man can probably say no to you. There was just something about you, something so extraordinary that it took his breath away. What was this fascination? He wasn't sure. However, what he was positive about was that he enjoys looking at you. He enjoys listening to you. He enjoys thinking about you. He enjoys all those things way too much; he was aware of that. He was not ready to stop thinking about you just yet.

Now, sitting in front of his Mac, his eyes were focused on the screen. He wasn’t too up to date when it came to the modern technology, but he also wasn’t clueless to how to work a computer. Setting everything up, he glanced over at the previously printed list of names with time slots besides them. The list was not in alphabetical order, students had their half an hour available for the next eight hours of his life.

It would be a lie to say he was not thinking about you. He was looking forward to seeing your face, even if it’s only on the computer display. Your surname and student ID were somewhere halfway through the list. Naturally, he searched for your name straight away after the programme generated the list.

The ticking of the clock hanged on the nearby wall sounded out so clearly. Almost like a racing heart whenever one feels more strain than usual. He could feel the nervousness growing within him as the time passed. He almost felt bad for the kid who had his scheduled meeting right before you. Chris kept on stuttering, disconnecting, and asking for questions to be repeated. Unfortunately, there was no strength in him to think about the failed one-to-one since his brain was too concentrated on you. His favourite, little student.

His thought process was disrupted as a green dot appeared next to your surname, suggesting your online availability. Licking his lips and fixing his hair, his fingers position themselves on the mouse. One click and the signal began. Beep one, beep two, beep three.

“Hi, Mr. Evans!” Her bubbly voice caused Chris to smile. She waved and in response so did he. She seemed happy, her face expression indicated nothing but joy, he enjoyed it greatly. “Hi! How are you? How’s everything?” He asked with an honest curiosity, still smiling at his student. It’s been months since the last time they spoke without anyone else around. Of course, this was the first instance of them conversating in those settings, but he did not mind. Any type of physical interaction seemed impossible now and anytime soon. This was the best he could receive for a significant period for now.

Their faces didn’t shut for the first couple of minutes. Talking about the past months, Chris was quickly reminded of how smart and funny this girl infatuating really is. They seemed to be getting on well right from the first meeting. Weirdly, she had similar likes and dislikes as well as sense of humour. It was like talking to a long-term friend whom you haven’t seen in the longest time. He noticed her hair change, spotting the long knotless braids; in his opinion she looked completely stunning in this hairstyle. He was quick to comment on it and as a reply he was given a complement on his newest buzzcut.

Sadly, but still, he ended the chit chat to focus on discussing work material. Chris tried to stay on topic and somehow it was going well. For the next couple of minutes, he chatted about work. His hand travelled to the left side of his desk to glance at a list of things he wanted to mention, however, he got cut off by the voice emanating from the screen.

“Are those meetings being recorded, Mr. Evans?” She raised her eyebrows with interest spread across her face. Her back bent forward, causing her face to enlarge on his screen. “I mean like,” She continued and coughed. “Is anyone going to watch this later? Does anyone have access to this after we finish talking?” Her question expanded or rather multiplied, sounding out in Chris’ air pads. There was no denying he was conflicted about why she was asking this question. This was not his first online meeting and not a single individual showed any concern in this matter.

“Well, no, not really. If any of us wanted to report our meeting for any reason then I guess, um, I guess it is possible to reopen the video chat,” Slow nod was all he could do at this very moment. No doubt, he still was not able to understand the nature of her question. “If any of us found the other person’s behaviour concerning, rude or inappropriate then the IT services could recover this video chat.” He added in a robotic tone almost as if he were reading from the script.

“Would you want this meeting to get inappropriate, Sir?”

He chocked a little as his eyes widened. He wanted to slap himself across the face in response to his pathetic reaction. Shouldn’t the age gap mean something? Why was he behaving like he’s on her leash? Why was he this…nervous? Excited?

Assuredly, she should be the one who is intimidated, meanwhile it’s her making the first move. He wasn’t sure whether this simply comes from his politeness and gentles; obviously, momma Evans raised him to be a respectful man. It’s apparent, the fear of scaring you was blocking all his possible moves. Risk of being reported for improper behaviour in the workplace was also a worry of his, but it came nowhere near the terrifying theory of frightening you.

But here you were. Being indecent with him. And oh, how he loved it. How he enjoyed this single sentence leaving your pretty lips. Your remarks were more enjoyable and exciting than everything he has completed with the woman he married in the past year, if not longer.

Was he being delirious? Did your comment indicated what he thought it did? Possibility of his mind playing games on him was high. It’s so easy to assume things happened when you wish for them to happen.

“Do you want to make it inappropriate? Do you want me to be inappropriate with you, Sir?” A deep breath left his mouth and a shiver travelling down his spine followed. He was now sure; he did not misunderstand. This was not his imagination playing him, tricking him into believing there’s something here that does not exist. All of this was very real.

“Whatever you wanna be on this call — I’m happy with,” He managed to speak out loud, fixing himself on the chair. This was a bad idea, he thought once again, a horrible idea that could quite literally ruin his career. Was he going to stop? Prevent this from happening? No fucking way.

“Huh, you sure about that, Mr. Evans? I can get really filthy when I want. I am a naughty girl,” Your words hit him like a truck, and he couldn’t help the blood rush in his trousers. He licked his lips slowly and pressed his back onto the chair. He could say something, but he chose not to. Whatever you planned on doing suited him and there was not an ounce of interest in preventing you from doing so.

No further words were spoken. There was a moment of short silence that felt like forever. A moment for someone to back up, break this madness off. No one expressed a need nor a want to stop. She played with her nipples through her shirt before they journeyed up. The straps of her pale pink top slowly moved down her arm, his eyes patiently followed. To him, you were mesmerising. At this moment you had his whole attention.

Looking straight at him, her hands removed the top and carelessly dropped it on the floor. His eyes glued onto her as the soft material left her body completely. He tensed as his length twitched, reacting to her breasts and hard nipples. Her skin was complemented by the colour of a previously worn top but seeing her without it sent shivers down his spine.

Chris could feel the discomfort in his pants becoming unbearable, needing to expose himself immediately. With shame, but still, he slowly undid his zipper. For a while now the feeling downstairs was insufferable, pleading and begging to be uncovered by his hand. Chris gulped back the lump in his throat as he completely freed his member. The view on the screen made his dick ache, his length twitched, jumping again his tense stomach.

“Liking this?” She teased, firmly grabbing her breasts. His eyes darken when he took in all her naked presence. The way she touched herself, he wanted that too. He wanted to feel her nipples between his fingers. He ached to be close to her.

“I wanna see all of you,” His words escaped his mouth, hand firmly grabbing his cock. Without shame nor hesitation his member was stroked, slowly and decisively, as his back leaned on the chair comfortably.

She was quick to listen. So submissive, he though, hand still firmly hugging his man part. He observed as she stood up, taking a few steps back. Still looking at Chris, her body turned around in a circle. Her moves were slow, very captivating, making Chris feel like every single movement was in slow motion. He already adored her body.

Her hands roamed around her own body before she slipped her hand inside her shorts and panties. Subtle movements of her hands indicated she’s pleasuring herself right in front of him. By her expressions, he was able to conclude that she’s enjoying herself. She didn’t play with herself for too long. Pulling the defiant material down as her eyes travelled to his, she exposed herself completely. He felt his mouth dry at a sigh of her bare body. She gave him a sultry look, realising the power she now held over him.

“Is this how you like me, Mr. Evans?” She broke of the silence, still exposing her hot flesh. It took Chris a couple of second to even register the question, his imagination run too wild to focus now. “Do I like you naked? It’s certainly a more thought-provoking image than how I usually view you,” He teased, slightly raising the corner of his lips in a smug smile.

Licking his lips once again, he watched as she took a box from underneath her bed. It was a regular box, nothing fancy. Taking off the lid her hand searched inside for a short moment before pulling out a pink dildo. Suiting, he thought, always liking this colour on her. He admired how her skin tone was complemented by the shade.

“I love imagining it’s your cock fucking me instead of my dildo,” She said completely unprovoked, making Chris widen his eyes. They did something naughty, something filthy, yet this comment really threw him off. “I’m gonna show you how I play with myself when I think of you,” She added and waisted no time before sitting on the bed. Chris had to admit, he spotted the bed straight away when the call started. Picturing himself laying there, you next to him, he took some time imagining the wicked scene you two could create on that mattress.

“I will show you how much, how much I love picturing us together,” Her seductive voice reached Chris’ ears, his interest growing with every single second. There was this unexplainable fear within him at this very moment, fearing she is going to stop. He was helpless now, he needed her to entertain him long enough for him to reach satisfaction.

Licking his lips once again, he watched as she took a box from underneath her bed. It was a regular box, nothing fancy. Taking off the lid, her hand searched inside for a short moment before pulling out a pink dildo. Suiting, he thought, always liking this colour on her. He admired how her skin tone was complemented by the shade.

“I want you to watch,” His student said firmly, staring right at him. The sound of a dildo followed. Chris’ breath was caught in his throat straight from the anticipation of the next step she’s going to undertake. With hunger, Chris watched as she teased herself, rubbing her clit. The toy fondly slid inside of her, resulting in her lewd sounds and Chris’ silent moan.

Her nipples were hard, her unoccupied hand coming up to fondle them both whilst her bottom lip was taken hostage by her teeth. She was really enjoying herself; Chris could tell. The bed made a squeaky noise every time she moved. The call was so clear, thank God, he was able to enjoy every motion of hers. The moans, whimpers and groans escaping her pretty lips as she fucked herself with a toy. The quality of the video chat was good, but not great. He wanted to see her in full HD, he wanted to see the details. For now, though, viewing this was enough. This was damn good, so good. Those desperate hand movements, stuffing the length as deep as she could, it drove him insane. Oh, how he wanted to stretch her out like no one did before.

“Just like that, baby,” He groaned, squeezing his hard cock. He was conversating with you through moans, examining you as the vibrations caused tingles in your lower department. He couldn’t feel it, but he knew her pussy was throbbing and pulsing, desperate for more length to enter. His body parts were no different; his balls felt heavy and his dick was hard as a rock, begging for a dream release.

The heat began to grow within his body with each and every movements of hers. She kept him going, moaning his name, calling him daddy, reminding him who she’s pulling this show for. If only she had any idea what it did to him. A shaky hand wrapped around his length made rapid movements, fighting for his orgasm to arrive. Watching her, listening to her, it was magical. This craze he had within him, this fixation she caused – it was obsessive. A loud scream, her thighs closing on the pink toy and her eyes shut while she orgasmed was enough, it was everything.

The feeling of euphoria intensely swept through him as a creamy load exploded in his hand. She could not see it, but he knew she felt it. All that left his mouth was a silent “fuck” as he collected his breathe. Chris was in pieces, still processing previous events. It was now clear to him how he pleaded for that orgasm to happen, how he needed it. He was embarrassed to admit how strong, how intense, the load bursting onto his hand really was. Lucky for him, no one knew anything about it but him and himself.

„You liked this little show of mine, daddy?” Her voice awakened his senses, causing his mouth to water once again. She caught him looking at his crotch, now surely convinced what happened. She removed the toy from her body, a silent whimper followed. She threw it away on the bed like it was nothing, like it did not help them both cum just minutes ago.

“So much baby, so much. Can you show me s’more? One more time,” He breathed, looking at her with lust. She obeyed, without hesitation; her body rose from the bed and did a slow, full 360 to demonstrate her delectable features. Maybe, he was delusional, but he was sure her juices travelled down her leg. If he were right next to her, his tongue would have taken care of that.

“See you in a seminar, right, Mr. Evans?” Her sweet voice rang in his ears followed by his quick nodding. He had a chance to see her collecting the missing wardrobe that she then put on right before him. Chris could not help but notice her shaky legs. She sat down in the exact same position as before. She reached for a cup, drinking, and sipping the liquid through a straw. Now, she was back to her regular self, looking innocent once again. It slightly woke him up, brought half of him to reality.

“Yes, Miss. I will see you there. Be good, huh?” Chris said casually or at least he tried to do so. He was caught by surprise, convinced that he’s going to slur over his words more. He caught a glimpse of her eyes, forming as much of an eye contact as possible through the processor. Her current thoughts seemed impenetrable to him, although he always thought he’s amazing at reading facial cues.

“Me and you both know - I won’t.”

The last words of his current interest sounded from his Mac. Sending him a flirty wink before pressing the right button, she terminated the call. The intense orgasm left his hand still somewhat shaking. Eyes focused on the screen, he looked like he was awaiting another glimpse of her to come back.

Chris’ ecstatic state wasn’t quick to falter. It took another couple of minutes for him to do anything. Literally, anything. He was already late for the next meeting, which he felt absolutely no remorse for. His eyes lowered to look at the mess he produced; his mind displeased as he had realised, he needs to move to clean it.

Once again, it was just him and his usual surroundings. The call was over, just like that, almost as if it never happened. Despite his deepest longing, he could not go back to what just happened, he could not relive it. Your moans and whimpers performed in his head like a favourite song one would put on replay without a hesitation. He was craving more, his fingers curled into fists as he felt his cock hardening again. He was not sure what his next moves in this matter will be, but he was more than sure he needed to be inside this beautiful body.

#chris evans imagine #chris evans blurb #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagines #chris evans #professor!chris #imagine

236 notes · View notes

imaginedhaven · 4 years ago

Text

Wildfire

a smutty Rowaelin one-shot

Summary:

Rowan Whitethorn has been sent to Varese under orders from his queen, to find a girl with wildfire in her veins.

Celaena Sardothien has been in Varese for several days now, and with nothing to lose she makes several gambles. Some work out better for her than others.

Rating: E for Explicit- NOT intended for readers under 18!!

Warnings/Contents: Graphic Sexual Content, Knifeplay, Semi-Public Sex, Angry/Hate Sex

~*~*~

Rowan Whitethorn sat in a shadowy corner of the taberna, eyes fixed on a game of cards taking place not far from him. He did not usually frequent such establishments—or rather, not in Wendlyn, he had spent a great deal of time in such places elsewhere—but his mark was here, and so he came to observe.

She was doing a terrible job of cheating at cards, almost as though she wanted to be caught, but thus far those seated at the table hadn’t thrown any accusations in her direction. Her golden-blonde hair was messily braided back, as though she knew it would need to be bound back for some future plan but had scarcely bothered to care about her appearance.

Someone approached him as if to eject him from the table he was shamelessly taking all to himself, but one glare was enough to encourage the other to leave. Most of the patrons had been giving him a wide berth for the duration of the evening, his pointed ears marking him as Fae and the tattoo down his face marking him as other. That was fine with him. He preferred it that way, even.

A laugh rang from the table where the cards game was continuing and he turned his attention back to his target. She was running low on funds despite her attempts at cheating, which was likely why none of the others had pointed out her actions, but as he watched she removed a glimmering ring from her finger and set it on the table, eyes downcast as though she was focusing on what she had just offered as collateral. He knew, however, it was for a different reason.

If anyone paid close enough attention to her eyes, after all, it would be impossible to ignore the girl’s obvious Ashryver heritage in the capital of the country her extended family ruled. Those eyes, combined with her golden hair and the heat of a powerful gift of fire magic for those who could sense it as he could, would mark her as Aelin Galathynius for anyone who looked too closely.

He wasn’t certain what would happen if she should be discovered, or what she was even doing here in the first place. But his queen had sent him to follow this girl, to find her and bring her away from this place, and he had no choice but to obey. Even if she hadn’t, he couldn’t deny the pull he felt toward her. Aelin could have easily commanded the attention of the entire room if only she’d desired it, could do so much better than how she was currently choosing to spend her time, and a flicker of heat began to burn in him as their eyes met for a single moment that seemed to stretch on for minutes.

Rowan frowned as those blue eyes ringed with gold looked him up and down, knowing it was a dangerous move for her to take her attention from the men before her. However, he found he couldn’t look away from the spirit of wildfire flickering in her eyes, a match for the power he knew lingered in her core. Before anyone else noticed her distraction, fortunately, she turned her attention back to the game of cards, carelessly flicking her braid over her shoulder.

The men at the table evidently accepted the ring as valuable enough. Was it an old family heirloom she had held onto after all these years? No, a closer look revealed the ring to be silver set with a semiprecious gem, hardly valuable at all in comparison to the gems a royal such as herself would likely have had access to. It was also less likely to have been stolen during her time gallivanting about Erilea as an assassin; surely she would have found better marks and this ring would not have been worth her time. What significance did it have to her, then? Did it have any at all?

Rowan shook his head. This was irrelevant information, and he was spending too long wondering about it. No, instead he watched as all of the girl’s tells suddenly shifted. She had been leading these men on the whole time about her abilities, then, and he leaned subtly in her direction as he saw a tiny but feral grin grace her features.

Feeling the charge in the air, Rowan subtly straightened his pale coat and felt for the hilt of the knife he’d tucked into knee-high boots. Either the men would catch her at cheating or they would be angered that she had conned them into gambling away more money than they’d planned on losing. Regardless of the precise accusation, it didn’t take someone with his experience in battle to tell a fight was brewing. It would be best to end it before it could begin, he decided, and in a single smooth motion he stood with the knife in hand. A quick twirl of the blade around his fingers righted its position within his grasp, and as he approached the table he took a moment to survey the surroundings.

Attacking any of the men would be likely to start the brawl the girl was obviously hoping for. That left making a move against the girl herself, and he allowed himself a feral grin at the pleasure the thought brought to him.

Quickly, his feet sure and silent as he crossed the room, he stepped behind her and carefully held the blade in his hand to her throat, his free hand coming to rest on her shoulder. The hand on her shoulder allowed him to feel her shiver at the cool steel of the knife, as well as her sudden stillness after. The men with whom she’d been playing all paused and looked at him, and he let them take in the tattoo along the left side of his face, the points of his ears, and the gleam in his eyes. “Thank you,” he said quietly, “for keeping this one distracted long enough for me to find her. You can keep whatever silver she gambled away as a reward, but I’m afraid she’s mine to deal with.”

The men who had been more than ready to start a fight against a deceptively defenseless girl were much less willing to come between a Fae warrior and his mark, and they quickly nodded their agreement. As they were scrambling to divide the coins between themselves he carefully palmed the ring that was still sitting on the table before wrapping his hand around her upper arm and urging her to stand.

While it would attract unneeded attention to leave his knife at her throat as he walked her out of the taberna, he laid the flat of the blade against her lower back just under the hem of her shirt, a threat and a promise of what was to come if she made any sudden movements.

~*~*~

Celaena had not come to the taberna that night in the hopes of provoking attention from one of the Fae. In fact, she had deliberately selected one that magic users avoided. However, she supposed it was just as well that she get this over with. She had known when she came to Varese that she would likely attract attention, though she had not expected one of the Fae warriors to find her so quickly.

He was still standing so close behind her as he marched her out of the building and down the alleys of the city’s underbelly, close enough that she could feel the firmness of his muscled frame and the warmth of his body. The contrast of the warmth of the male behind her and the cool blade he still held to her back shimmered in her senses, and it was quickly becoming difficult to focus on where exactly he was taking her.

As they walked, she realized he was leading her toward alleys the city guards usually failed to patrol regularly. Her days of roaming these streets had taught her a great deal about their patterns, and she realized with a shiver that soon they would be truly alone.

She quickly turned her mind toward ways she could turn this situation to her advantage. She was reasonably certain a warrior of this strength would be one of the blood-sworn she had heard so much about, meaning he was likely doing this under orders and unlikely to actually hurt her in any lasting way. However, he clearly had no problems toying with the threat of violence if the knife that was still laid against her back was any indication, and as they reached whatever destination he had in mind it reappeared at her throat as he shoved her against a wall.

In terms of fighting her way out she was hopelessly outmatched, she realized with a shiver. This male had quite possibly trained for centuries, both in fighting and in magic if she was correct, and she was in a disadvantageous position.

That left trying to talk her way out, which would be difficult at best but better than nothing. “So assertive,” she said, allowing her lips to curve into an easy grin. “Whatever did I do to you?”

The blade at her throat cooled further, and she felt the spark of magic in the air. So she was right about his magic, then. “You know exactly what you’ve done,” he replied, green eyes glimmering in the dimmed lights of the town around them.

“Do I get to know your name, or are you just going to keep me here all night with no idea what to call you?” she asked, and she felt the blade at her throat falter. Not a question he had been expecting, then. That was fine by her. She could work with unexpected.

The male seemed unimpressed when she glanced back up at his face, though he did finally grunt out a name. “Rowan.”

“Rowan,” she purred. “Well met. I’m Celaena, but I’m guessing you already knew that.” And as she continued, she allowed an edge of her irritation to creep into her voice. “And you’ve absolutely made a mess of my plans for the evening.”

Those green eyes darkened as she glared up at him. “Starting brawls in city slums is beneath you and we both know it.”

“And I would’ve thought taking girls from the street was beneath both you and your queen, but here we are,” she retorted, and he pressed closer against her with a snarl.

Oh, she could definitely work with that, she thought with a grin as she deliberately arched her back. One leg came up to wrap around him, foot tucked neatly behind his knee, and she allowed the thrill she felt at the warmth of him to show on her face.

It was a dangerous game for someone like her, attempting to seduce an immortal soldier, but she had seen him watching her in the taberna. He had made his displeasure evident by the expression on his face and the way he had removed her from the building, but she had also glimpsed the heat of his gaze. She would have to play this carefully, but it was her best chance to get free.

It certainly wasn’t a hardship, she thought with a grin as she allowed her eyes to trace the lines of the tattoo that marked his face. He was everything she could ask for in a partner despite her irritation with how they’d met, tall and strong and utterly unafraid of her. She arched her back again, allowing her head to tip back against the wall, and smirked as he growled. The knife had lowered almost imperceptibly, but she knew she had his attention now.

The warrior tucked the knife away into the belt he wore around his waist, but soon the cold kiss of steel was replaced with canines tracing along her neck. Celaena shivered, both at the danger those teeth represented and at the thrill of eliciting such a reaction from him. Gods, it had been so long…

Focus. She had to focus if she was going to come out of this on top, and a surge of anger swept through her at how easily he was turning the situation back to his advantage. “So tell me, Rowan,” she murmured, her own teeth grazing the point of his ear. “Now that you have me, what are you going to do with me?”

Before he could reply, she used the leg she’d hooked around him to draw him closer, rubbing herself up against the heat and firmness of him. He growled and pressed her against the wall more firmly, but she smirked as she felt the unsteadiness of his breath at her throat.

~*~*~

Aelin had to know exactly what she was doing, he realized with a growl. It had been a mistake to lead her away like this, to take her to a place she could use to her advantage. That being said, though, he could tell she wasn’t as unaffected as she wanted him to believe. With his position at her throat he could feel her racing pulse and see the flush of her skin. A slight shift of his weight allowed one of his thighs to press against her core, and he watched in satisfaction as she shivered, hips involuntarily pressing herself in closer.

If this was the game she wanted to play, he was more than happy to play along. After all, nothing in the order from his queen had specified the condition in which he was to return with the girl.

It was the work of a few moments to retrieve the knife from his belt and slice her shirt open from collar to hem, and he smirked at her indignant glare. “What is Hellas’ realm are you doing?” she hissed, one hand holding the two halves of the fabric together.

“Making sure you understand what sort of game you’re trying to play, princess,” he growled back as he watched her eyes darken with a combination of anger and the lust she was obviously trying to pretend she didn’t feel.

“You do realize I’m going to have to walk around the city like this later,” she snarled.

“Perhaps you should’ve thought of that before you decided to try provoking me,” he replied.

She growled at him in response, but shivered as one of his hands slipped under the shirt to trace patterns up her side. He watched cold calculation war with the wildfire heat in her eyes as he slid that hand back down to her hip, with the heat overtaking them as he began to toy with the ties of her trousers.

She finally arched into the touch once more, all the more appealing for its artlessness, and he smirked as he slipped the tips of his fingers below the loosened ties.

Her skin was just as heated here as it was over her pulse, damp with sweat and desire, and a quick circle of one of his fingertips had her gasping a soft noise into his ear. His victorious grin against her neck turned into one of satisfaction at the sound. “That’s all it takes?” he asked as he teased her pulse once more with his teeth. “Just one touch and you’ve given in, just like that?”

She snarled, but before she could voice a reply he pressed that finger into the heat of her and her snarl melted into a moan.

Gods, if she was this responsive at the slightest touch they were going to get caught like this, frequently patrolled area or not. Still, he couldn’t quite suppress the pleasure that coiled within him at the knowledge that he could reduce her to this with nothing more than a few short words and a few touches, nor could he resist the urge to press the hard length of his cock against her thigh as his finger curled inside her. “Careful, princess,” he breathed against her skin. “You wouldn’t want us to be found like this, would you?”

He pulled back just enough to get another look at her face and smirked as he met her hazy turquoise gaze lined with golden fire. “Then I’d suppose you’d better hurry up,” she panted. A glance down the rest of her matched the evidence of pleasure he’d found in her eyes. The shirt he’d sliced open was gapping once more at her chest, exposing flushed skin and the curve of her breasts heaving with her every labored breath. Through the thin fabric he could see the outline of her peaked nipples, and it took a monumental effort to restrain himself from reaching out and tweaking one in favor of enjoying the rest of the view before him.

His finger inside her had stilled in favor of focusing his attention on watching her, though it seemed to not be enough for her. Her hips arched away from the wall, and she did her best given the lack of leverage she had to rock up and down on him, growling again as he stopped her movements with a single press of his other hand low on her abdomen. She gasped and squirmed against the hold, but he had the upper hand here and he knew she knew it.

Finally she managed another sentence. “Are you going to just stand there,” she demanded, “or are you going to—”

His lips crushed against hers, in part to silence her and in part to savor her surprise. As he trailed his lips and teeth along her jaw and back down her neck in kiss after biting kiss, he debated his answer to her. It was a shameless ploy to regain dominance over him, and part of him grudgingly admired the attempt, clumsy as it was. While he would love nothing more than to slow down in response, maybe pull his finger back out of her entirely and focus only on teasing touches to her clit until she was whimpering and begging against him, he was also aware of their surroundings and the lack of time he had to elicit such a reaction.

Instead of a verbal reply, he moved both hands back to her hips, ignoring her whine of displeasure at the sudden lack of contact in favor of tugging her trousers down. With a firm grip, he lifted one of her legs again, working the fabric around the boot she wore until the clothing was dangling from a single ankle, trailing in the dust of the alley.

“Finally,” she breathed, her fingers tugging at the laces of his own trousers until he could spring free of them.

He smirked back at her, wrapping her bared leg around his waist as he carefully positioned himself. “Be careful what you wish for,” he taunted, and then he was pressing into her.

~*~*~

Gods, but Celaena had miscalculated, losing the upper hand in just a few short moments. As his thick length shoved into her, though, she couldn’t feel any regret.

It was quickly growing difficult to focus on anything but the delightful stretch of his cock inside of her where she needed it most, but she mustered what she could and looked up at him, meeting pine-green eyes blown wide with lust and watching as silver hair fell into the male’s face.

Her leg was anchored around his hip already, and Celaena wrapped both of her arms around his shoulders, both to keep him close and for balance as she arched away from the wall and pressed herself against him, urging him on.

As their hips met she gasped at the size of him, at the stretch that rode the perfect edge between too much and so good, and allowed her head to once more tip back against the wall. The male—Rowan—growled as the movement exposed her throat to him once more, and she knew without looking that his gaze would be fixed on the pulse hammering there. Fae were territorial creatures, operating on instinct far more than humans, and she knew that the exposure of such a vulnerable spot would drive him wild.

She had long since given up on getting the upper hand in this situation, if she was being honest with herself. Now, her only goal was to drive him as insane as he was driving her.

Sure enough, the hand that wasn’t holding her leg up wound its way up to her braid, tugging her head sharply to the side as his teeth grazed her neck once more. As he teased her neck his cock stayed maddeningly still within her, but she couldn’t appreciate the control that must have taken from him. Not when he was still holding back from giving her what she needed. With a rock of her hips against him, she growled, “Stop rutting teasing me and move already, I—”

The words melted into a sharp cry as he did just that, the sound of skin on skin soon filling the narrow alleyway. Gods, and she’d thought the feeling was good when he’d first entered her. The movement was exquisite, his cock filling her completely over and over as she clenched helplessly around him. Closer, she needed him even closer, and she braced her shoulders against the wall behind her and lifted her other leg as well, hooking her ankles together around his waist.

The movement gave her just enough room to slide one of her hands down off of his shoulder, tracing stuttering patterns over his chest through his shirt before it drew near to where they were joined, near to where his cock was now thrusting fast and hard into her. She circled a single fingertip around her own clit and gasped at the sensation, fire rapidly building inside her core at the touch and the size of him and the way he was still manhandling her, shoving her again and again with each thrust further into the wall of this dingy little alleyway—

His elongated canines sank into her neck and something within her snapped. It was all she could do not to scream his name as she trembled and shook with the orgasm he’d wrung from her so seemingly effortlessly, clinging to him as he continued to move against her.

He growled against her neck, his hands moving again until they were both clutching at her hips, tugging her against him as he continued to fuck her against the wall. The shift in position changed the angle of his cock moving inside her, and she bit her lip in what she hoped was a successful attempt to muffle the moan he tore out of her.

“Aelin,” he hissed in her ear, the sound both a warning and a plea, and just like that she tumbled over the edge again, clinging to him desperately, hands fisting in whatever fabric she could reach as her pleasure curled in her core and she clenched around his cock.

This time he was only able to continue for a handful of hard thrusts before he was trembling too, face pressed against the skin of her neck as his cock twitched and spilled inside of her. With the energy she had remaining she tugged him into a kiss, reveling at the way he quickly took it over and claimed her mouth as he had claimed the rest of her.

As they both struggled to catch their breath, chest heaving, Celaena squirmed until his cock slipped out of her and lowered her trembling legs back to the ground. Her hands remained fisted in his shirt, as she was relatively certain that without his support she wouldn’t be standing now.

As her breath began to settle into something approximating normal, she gave the Fae warrior a dazzling grin. “So tell me,” she murmured into his ear, “how upset do you think Galan would be if he found out I agreed to his little meeting entirely for the chance to do this?”

~*~*~

Rowan groaned and shoved at his mate’s shoulder as she laughed, causing her to stumble back against the wall that had been supporting them. “You’re incorrigible, and you’d best hope your cousin doesn’t learn that you sailed across the sea purely to indulge yourself in a misguided fantasy,” he replied.

“Please,” Aelin grinned. “It’s hardly misguided. You admitted years ago that even when we first met you couldn’t deny that pull you felt. Not to mention, it didn’t take me long at all to convince you.”

It really hadn’t taken her long, and if Rowan had the presence of mind to do so he would probably be at least a little embarrassed by that. However, in the years of being married to Aelin he had long since learned that she would get what she wanted one way or another. “There’s a perfectly good bed waiting in our room across town,” he pointed out. “This is an awfully long way to go to get me to—”

“Och, it’s not about getting you into bed,” she protested.

“I know,” Rowan replied, and he did know. The bond between them told him everything he needed to know about how this had soothed away some rough edge that lingered on in her from everything they had been through. Her eyes flashed up at him, bright with a teasing glimmer as she finally worked her way back into her trousers.

“I’m still upset about you ruining my shirt, by the way,” she grinned. “You’ll have to make that up to me.”

He obediently handed over his cloak, settling the fabric over her shoulders. While not perfect, as it was too long for her, she would be able to wrap herself in it as they walked back to their rooms across town and hide the shirt from anyone who gave her a casual glance. He pulled the hood up and finally tucked her loosely braided hair behind pointed ears, smiling as she leaned into his touch. “That should do until we get you back,” he said.

The golden fire that lined her eyes flashed once more as she looked up at him. “Oh, that’s not what I meant,” she grinned. “No, you’re going to be a very busy male tonight, I’m afraid.”

Rowan fought back a groan at the promise in her smirk and her eyes. “You do realize we still have to actually make it across town, right?”

“Oh, I know,” she admitted easily. “Part of you making it up to me is you ensuring we get there quickly, so you can—”

Aelin’s words cut off with a gasp and a laugh as he scooped her up into his arms, walking as quickly as he could without arousing suspicion. After all, his queen had given an order, and he intended to obey.

~*~*~

Tagging:

@ireallyshouldsleeprn

Also! Queen-of-glass, dear, I left you off this taglist because I wasn’t quite sure if you wanted to be tagged for *all* of my things or just Rules of Engagement. If you meant for everything, I apologize for erring on the sake of caution. :)

#rowaelin #haven writes

247 notes · View notes

somethinginthethunder · 4 years ago

Note

XHIAJSJS I know you already wrote stuff for Ushijima but I think your writing just made me love him even more!! Could you write a fluffy but tiny bit angsty scenario about domestic life with Ushijima that goes from him proposing, then married life, and finally they’re pregnant with a daughter? If you can set it in the time where he’s with the Schweiden Adlers then that would be perfect! 👀 🥺💞

Author’s Note: Hi there!! Don’t worry on requesting a character I’ve written before! I don’t mind :) I hope this will suffice! I also added after their daughter is born, too, it that’s alright. Thank you for the request!

Shares and feedback are always appreciated <3

Word Count: 2,324

Summary: Follow the story of you and Ushijima’s proposal, married life, and family life.

Warnings: I don’t think there are any?

---

“I love you.”

His sudden words caught you off guard. Turning your head to face him, you smiled.

“I love you, too, Toshi,” you answered.

He met your gaze, holding your hand softly as you both layed down in the grass.

It was a little date. The two of you had been together for quite a few years, and Ushijima decided he wanted to go out for the day. Of course, out of the public eye where you two were most comfortable with each other.

“I’m also in love with you,” your boyfriend added, not breaking eye contact.

“I’m in love with you, too,” you countered.

You huffed in amusement. “What’s bringing this on, love?” you asked quietly, adjusting your body to lean on your side. He was always straight forward with how he felt, but this time felt a bit out of the ordinary.

“Do you happen to remember what I promised you on our anniversary last year?” he asked.

Last year’s anniversary? “Yeah, I think I do.”

“What did I say?”

“Ah… that you were grateful I was your biggest supporter, through thick and thin?” you guessed, getting a little confused as to where this was exactly going.

“No,” he said. “Try again.”

You shut your eyes for a moment, trying to remember what exactly happened that year.

“That… you were going to marry me someday?” you murmured, studying his expression carefully.

He returned his gaze to the sky once more. “Yes. It’s been awhile since then, hasn’t it?”

“Well, yeah, it’s been a year,” you shrugged. “But why are you askin-”

Before you could finish what you were saying, he was already pushing himself up and off the ground. You followed in suit, with him turning to face you.

He looked handsome, with the town lights down below emitted a soft, subtle, almost nonexistent glow on his face. The moon helped out with the lighting as well while the gentle breeze tousled his hair slightly.

“You know I don’t typically make light of promises,” he continued, his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

You smiled at the statement. “I know, Wakatoshi,” you agreed, nodding your head.

“Then I hope you’ll understand when I say I’d like to keep that promise I made a year ago,” he said, his left hand pulling something out from his pocket.

Everything clicked at that moment for some reason, like the last piece of a puzzle. You could already feel the tears forming in your eyes.

“Wait-”

“Y/n L/n.” He was already down on one knee, opening the small velvet box no larger than the size of his palm. “Will you marry me?”

Without thinking, you nodded your head, your hands coming up to your mouth on instinct as you said, “Yes!”

Your thoughts were stumbling over each other as you repeated your answer like some kind of chant under your breath, a few tears streaming down your face as he stood back up.

He said no other words, but you knew he was happy by the look on his face. His eyes were content and his lips were turned up at the corners in a bit of a smile.

He gently took your left hand and slipped the ring on. It wasn’t anything flashy, nor was it a boring piece. It was unique, and it was yours, and so was he.

When you were still a young teen, you had never thought you’d get married, and especially not to Ushijima. But, honestly, you couldn’t ask for anyone better. Your fiance, wow, it felt good to be able to call him that, felt just the same.

In his own brain, he would’ve never thought he’d become betrothed to anyone. He was aware of how apathetic he seemed, and how dedicated to volleyball he was. That’s why he was so thankful to meet someone like you.

You were the person who would understand if he was late for a date because of practice. You were the one who didn’t mind taking extra time to explain yourself or him to anyone else. You were the one who waited patiently for him to grow as a person and supported him as he came closer and closer to achieving his dream.

You were the one.

☆☆☆

Married life with Ushijima was almost always kind to you. He was a kind and hard-working husband, and you were an understanding and considerate wife. Most days, there was a routine. Get up, have a few good morning kisses, breakfast, both of you go to work, you come back home first, clean up a little, Ushijima comes back from practice, and then the both of you have the rest of the day to yourselves (unless, of course, you had an extra shift or your husband had an extra volleyball event).

But some days, you two couldn’t seem to connect. Sometimes this lasted for a few hours, the duration of the day, or for a couple of them.

Today happened to be one of the more worse situations.

“You can’t just keep doing this anymore!” you shouted angrily from across the room.

“And what exactly is it that I’m doing?” he asked, showing no remorse for his actions as he set down his volleyball equipment.

You were about to burst. But even you knew that exploding on him wasn’t going to do much more than if you didn’t.

“You’re cutting corners on your health, taking more time on for work and practice without even telling me, and more importantly: don’t seem to feel any need to apologize at all! No ‘I’m sorry, my wife’, no words that show you can acknowledge the situation-- nothing,” you said, exasperated.

Zipping up his bag, he positioned his body to partially face you, his eyes so cold a shiver almost ran down your spine from where you stood in your shared bedroom.

“What’s the point in apologizing if I don’t mean it in the first place?” he inquired, slinging his bag over his shoulder and walking out the door. “I’m leaving before I come to practice late.”

Unlike during his proposal, the tears you were crying here were not out of happiness.

You felt angry, frustrated, trapped, and just about like you were going to give up. This wasn’t the first time he’s done this. You had always attempted to get him to talk about it, and, in the less-common occasion, he’d attempt to talk to you about it if the sides were switched instead.

You punched the wall behind you and slid down it until you were sat on the floor. You felt tired. So tired. And afraid, too. If only you two could just get on the same page.

Meanwhile, Ushijima was starting to feel the guilt get to him. He knew he didn’t really mean those words, yet he said them anway. How could he do that to you? You gave him everything and more, and in return you got ignored.

He knew he had to balance this out. That he needed to fix this.

Once again, he was a late. Sure, by only a few minutes, but you knew that it would be long before he got home. You were in the kitchen, your arms folded and head resting on top. Everything for dinner was currently cooking, the sounds of bubbling and sizzling filling the quiet home.

Now that you had let out all of your emotions, you were only left with two: pain and worry.

It would come to your, surprise, though, when you heard the door open. At first, you had thought it was an intruder, but that wouldn’t have made sense as there seemed no extra attempt to open the door.

The more probable answer was that it was Wakatoshi.

Looking back, you saw just the back of his head. Unable to face him, you faced forward once again, suddenly deciding to stand up straight.

You hissed quietly when the timer went off, taking the cover off the pan and taking it off the stove. After you prepared it for cooling, you took notice of the footsteps that approached you.

“Y/n,” he said.

You didn’t want to look back at him. You really didn’t. The way he said your name made you tense, but you forced yourself to turn around anway, attempting to avoid his gaze. What did he want? To talk? A break? A divorce? You knew it was probably far from that… but still.

“I’m sorry,” he declared, making your eyes shoot up at his own.

There he was, in the same outfit as this morning with a bouquet of your favorite kinds of flowers, a simple bow wrapped around its covering that held it together.

He wasn’t great with words. You could tell he was trying.

“I didn’t mean what I said this morning,” he admitted. “And I apologize for not admitting I was wrong for my actions. I do care about my practice and games, but I know you’re just as important. I made a commitment as your husband. I’m sorry for not proving that to you enough.”

The corners of your mouth formed a weary smile. You gratefully accepted his apology gift and wrapped your unoccupied arm around his neck as a hug.

He, in return, wrapped his arms around your waist, allowing you to both feel each other.

“I forgive you,” you murmured, kissing his cheek when you saw the chance to be able to reach.

“I’m glad.”

Though he didn’t quite express it in the way he said it, you knew he was serious. He wasn’t one to play around in situations like these.

That’s one of the things that made this relationship easier.

☆☆☆

“Oho! What’s this I see?” your old friend said when you met him at the airport.

Tendou gestured to the size of your stomach, already having a hunch as to what it could be.

“Is there a little Ushijima on the way? Hmm?” he wondered aloud, scrutinizing the situation as if he himself were a detective.

“There is,” your husband answered, catching up to the both of you with the both of your bags either in tow behind him or in his arms. “I thought I had already told you this.”

“You did, you did! But, my, it’s still a surprise! What’s it gonna be?” he cheered, grabbing a few of your bags out of politeness as he guided you both out of the airport.

“A girl,” you chirped, proud of what you and Ushijima had created.

“Ooh, she’ll be a daddy’s girl, then,” Tendou hummed, rubbing the top of his head as you all stood by the sidewalk (he was busy flagging down a driver).

“Most certainly,” you agreed teasingly, sitting beside your husband in the newly arrived car as the chocolatier got in front.

Ushijima said nothing, but rested a gentle hand on your stomach. Ever since you both gotten the news of your pregnancy, he had become extra careful about your health and how you were taken care of. It was endearing, but also a bit annoying at times. This time, though, it was the endearing part.

He had expressed his excitement and worry over becoming a father times and times before. The both of you were truly ecstatic.

“What’ll you name her, then?”

“We haven’t decided,” you admitted. “Any suggestions?”

“I think Satori’s pretty good,” the red-haired man chimed, smiling to himself.

“I don’t think we’ll be naming our daughter after any of her uncles,” Ushijima cut in, meeting his gaze with Tendou’s.

“Ah, yeah. Besides, Eita is a much better name, don’t you think?”

“Y/n! I’ve been betrayed!”

☆☆☆

“Daddy!” Chiharu squealed, squirming out of your arms.

“Ru,” her father said as he exited the train.

Leaning down, he easily scooped up his daughter into his arms, a kind smile on his face.

“You were gone for so long!” Chiharu whined, her olive-brown hair getting in the way of her eyes.

“I know,” Ushijima acknowledged, brushing the hair behind her ears. “But I won’t be going away for awhile. I’m here now,” he reassured her, kissing his forehead before approaching you.

Whenever he was gone, he always made the effort to still connect with you and your daughter.

“Welcome back, my love,” you laughed, giving your husband a kiss (to which he returned) before taking one of his bags.

Chiharu definitely was a daddy’s girl, just as Tendou had suspected. She was the spitting image of her father, with a lot of your traits as well.

She was kind, excelled at academics, and, of course, especially had an interest in volleyball. Even as a little kid, she took it way more seriously than other kids had. It was as if she were a different kid when it had to do with the sport. At just six years old, she had already claimed her goal on becoming a setter.

Ushijima was proud of this. Not just because she wanted to become a strong player like he father, but because of her determination and willpower.

“Have you been behaving while I was away?” your husband asked, shifting his bag to one arm just so he could hold your hand.

“Yes,” the [eye colored] girl said, seriousness evident in her voice. “I did my homework, listened to Mommy, and even did some extra volleyball practice!”

“Good,” he said as you made you way home. “I’m proud of you.”

He squeezed your hand at those words, causing you to turn and look up at him. Smiling to yourself, you could see his eyes were filled with love and content. Everything he had ever wanted in life was with him at this moment. He would have to be stupid to let any of it go or give up on continuing it.

And Ushijima Wakatoshi, player for the Schweiden Adlers, dedicated husband to Ushijima Y/n, and proud father of Ushijima Chiharu, was no stupid man.

---

☆taglist ☆

@shou-kunn @warmbearhugs

(please ask to be added and if you’d want to be tagged for specific characters or in general!)

#ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi fanfic #ushijima fanfic #ushijima imagine #ushijima one shot #ushijima wakatoshi one shot #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu self insert #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyu x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu imagines #haikyu imagine

218 notes · View notes

love-fireflysong · 4 years ago

Text

Oh my god, I'm so sorry that this one took so long holy shit. I have no excuses, other than the fact that I'm a terrible person who can't be trusted with deadlines it seems. But it is done! Yay! So, as successfully chosen by Miss '@clumsybookworm18' Mel, here's my entry for hurt/comfort (finally). This is actually the beginning part of a sole survivor chris/ash au I've been imagining for over a year now, and will very likely be the only part of that au I will ever share. That au is for me. And me alone, sorry lol.

Can't Undo the Scars can be read over on AO3 of course (and I would recommend it if only for the snazzy looking texting lol) but it is also under the link as usual.

Can't Undo the Scars

Tropes: Hurt/Comfort Fandom: Until Dawn Characters: Ashley Brown, Chris Hartley Words: 9749 Rating: Teen (mentions of past trauma, unhealthy coping mechanisms, separation anxiety, nightmares that involve death) Author's Notes: Will I ever be happy with this fic? No but I'm as content with what I got as I ever will be. What Chris and Ash are doing to try and get back to 'normal' is so stupidly not healthy for either of them, but they are young kids that just want to try and move on with their lives. So be nice to them (and me obviously lol).

"I think we should take a break."

Sitting across from Ashley at the table in the quiet cafe where they had gotten coffee together, Chris fumbled with the sugar cube he had grabbed. It bounced off the small table and tumbled to the floor, not that he was paying any attention to it anymore. Not when it felt like all his blood had frozen in his veins. Still, hoping and praying that he was misunderstanding what Ashley was trying to get at, he let out a forced little laugh. "...like a KitKat? Oh man, when was the last time I had one of those? Must have been ages ago, you're totally right we should go and grab a bar or two after this. A little snack and treat we both totally deserve and I'll break us off a piece of that—"

Chris let everything else he was about to say trail off when Ashley pulled her bottom lip into her mouth and shook her head fiercely as she refused to look at him. The loose sleeves of the sweater she was wearing were pulled far down enough that only the tips of her fingers were poking out, and those tightened around the mug of coffee she was holding onto. "No, I-I mean, I think we need to take a break from each other. At least for a little bit."

Forget his blood freezing, Chris felt everything around him freeze. His breath froze in his lungs, his heart froze in his chest, and time seemed to freeze around him. "Ash, are-are you," Chris swallowed roughly as he tried to keep himself together, "are you breaking up with me?"

Immediately Ashley's eyes snapped up to meet his, and they were wide with the same fear that Chris was pretty sure had replaced all the blood in his body. "No! No, that's-that's not what I'm doing! That's not what I want at all!" Her hands left the mug she had been gripping on the table and reached out to take Chris's, but hesitated and pulled back at the last second. "Why? Do you want to...?"

Chris closed the distance between their hands and grabbed hers in his, but was careful not to touch her wrists. He was more relieved than he had imagined it was possible to feel (and he had felt some pretty intense feelings of relief in the last half a year) when she responded by immediately turning her hands over so she could curl her fingers into his. "I don't! I can't think of a single thing in the world I want to do less than that."

The jerky nod that Ashley gave in agreement should have left him feeling better, but it didn't. "Good. So we're not br— not gonna do that then."

"Cool. Cool cool cool. Glad we're in agreement. But then, what did you mean by that, Ash? That we should..." Chris couldn't even bring himself to say the words, instead letting them die in his throat when Ashley slowly withdrew her hands from his and placed them back around her quickly cooling mug.

"It's just, this isn't healthy Chris. This can't be healthy for either of us."

"Healthy? What isn't healthy? This much coffee? The amount of sugar I put in my cup every morning? Is the amount of sugar I use turning you off Ash? Cause I don't think I can fix that sorry."

She didn't smile at that, not even a hint. No faint tugging at the corners of her mouth, no sigh of exasperation, nothing. And it was then that he knew that whatever this was all about, she was as serious as he'd ever seen her, and that terrified him.

"This, Chris. None of this. The fact that neither of us can sleep alone. That I'm terrified that the moment you leave my sight I'll never see you again. I hate that it feels like neither of us can go out in public unless we're both there."

"Oh. That. Yeah, I-I can see how that might be a problem. But Ash, it wasn't—it's not as if it's our fault. We're just trying to heal, I mean that's what all the doctors keep telling us at least. And if this is what it takes, then what's so wrong about that?"

Ashley looked up at him again, and while he wasn't shocked at the dark circles around her eyes (they were identical to the ones around his after all), the tears that had started to build up in the corners of them had him reaching over the table so he could take her face into his hands. Her hands cover his a second later, but not pull them away like he feared, instead she curls her fingers into the palms of his hands so she can hold him there. The two of them lean over the table to meet in the middle, likely looking like a romantic embrace shared by lovers in the corner to anyone looking on, but this is anything but. "But it's been months Chris," she starts and he wipes away the first tear that threatens to fall before it ever gets the chance to, "since, since..."

Since Blackwood, he finishes for her in his head, it's been months since Blackwood and it still feels like we're no better than when we first came down. And it has been, Blackwood had been nearly six months ago now and the two of them still jumped and grabbed for each other at what seemed like every little thing. A loud bang, even from something as small and normal as a car backfiring down the street, always sent Chris back into that room in the basement, watching as Mike aimed that gun at Emily. The sound of a glass cup shattering as it hit the floor would have Ashley locking up in fear, her grip on Chris's hand tightening to a point far beyond pain.

That first week of July had been terrible for them both. The smart thing to do would have been to get as far out of town as possible, but that would have left them basically stranded in the wilderness; surrounded by trees on all sides as they jumped at every little sound and animal call, wondering if it was yet another one of those creatures from the mountain trying to finish them off. Instead they had elected to stay home, cowering together in Chris's basement as the fireworks going off with loud pops and bangs from nearly every house in the area had managed to cut through their earplugs and send them both into a tailspin. Remembering every bullet that Chris had shot into the Wendigo that had chased him from the shed, none doing any damage at all except to push it back further and further from him. Remembering the sound as the lodge exploded into a ball of fire, leaving them to sit cold and alone in the snow as their ears continued to ring and ring. The coolness of the basement had done little against the summer heat either, reminding them too much of the heat from the burning lodge that had threatened to cook them both from the inside out.

July had almost been worse than February, and nothing would ever top those two days in February.

He's not worried about the scene the two of them are making in the cafe though. The table they had chosen—had been using since they discovered this beautifully quiet and peaceful cafe back when they had both finally worked up the nerve to leave their houses back in May—was in a secluded corner with no windows. It was a defensible position (or at least as defensible as a table in a public cafe could be) and as long as they stayed quiet then no one would pay any attention to them. Not when the other patrons were too busy chatting with their friends or typing away on a computer. And the employees? They had more to worry about then two nerdy regulars who for all appearances looked like they were having a romantic and private conversation.

"Can you at least just tell me why?" Chris whispers, his words choked as he continues to wipe away her tears. "Why now? What happened to make you think that we need a—" his m0uth moves but nothing comes out until he finally manages to force the word past the blockade in his throat "—a break."

Ashley leans into one of his palms and smiles at him sadly. "I know we both decided that we were gonna try and start school again in the winter semester, and that our admissions had already been accepted, so I was looking at dorm availabilities when you had fallen asleep last week. They only have a few single dorms and those are available only for married students. Which is fine, it's way too small to room two people at once for durations longer than a weekend. But it also turns out that there is no option for co-ed dorms, the school doesn't allow them. No exceptions."

"What? But, surely they must—"

She shakes her head. "No exceptions, they were very clear on that. I don't know how many times me or my mom or any of the doctors emailed them to try and explain the circumstances, but the response back was always the same. They 'feel sorry and understand how difficult this must be for us' but no exceptions means no exceptions. We either agree to separate dorms with roommates of the same gender or we have to find another set of lodgings."

"But that's...that's bullshit! So the thought of a boy and girl sharing a room apparently goes so far against their-their—what, good Christian values?—that giving our poor roommates nightmares while we scream ourselves to sleep is an acceptable alternative?!"

Ashley turns her head so she can leave a chaste kiss in the center of Chris's palm in an effort to calm him down, and decides to just stay and murmur her next words there. "I hate it too, but what other alternative is there? You know we can't get a place together, there's no possible way we could afford the rent for one."

"We can...we can..." Chris tries to find something, anything, he can say to make this not happen. "I can find a job, work and go to school or—"

"And we arrive back to the same problem, Chris. If we can't survive a separation at school, how are we supposed to do it when we're both out working as well, just so we can stay together. I don't want to do this anymore then you do Chris; I really really don't. You have no idea how much I don't want to do this, but we have to get used to not being able to see each other all the time. And I would rather do it on our terms then because the school or our roommates decided we can't."

Ashley's right, of course Ashley's right. It's Ashley Brown after all, she's always right, but he doesn't want her to be. Not about this. "Okay," he agrees instead, even as it feels like saying the word is stealing something away that he can't quite name. He hides this by lowering her head so he can place his lips on her forehead and say the words there instead. "Okay. Just-just tell me how long."

"A week." Chris feels something in his stomach turn into stone and sink to the bottom of his gut. He had been hoping for something like a day or two, not a full week. He isn't sure he can survive seven days without seeing her. "I-I thought long and hard about it, but a week. We're gonna have periods anyways where we won't be able to see each other because of exams or projects, so if we can manage a whole week then we can do those no problem."

"Are you sure that maybe we shouldn't, I don’t know, just build up to that? A day here, two days there, just so we can get used to it?"

Ashley shakes her head firmly enough that it jostles Chris's hands right off of her face, but keeps her hands in his anyways. "No. I want to get this over with. Prove to everyone, to ourselves, that we can do something as simple as this. I mean, we used to go periods all the time when we didn't see each other for ages, so what's so different about this?"

"Everything", Chris wants to say, "Everything's different now. It changed the moment we left that mountain behind." But he doesn't. He doesn't because he wants her to be right, that this is just a minor hiccup and if they can overcome this, then they can overcome anything. So with one last squeeze of her hands and a pained smile, he lets go and takes a sip of his coffee and grimaces at the taste. It's cold now, had probably gone cold a long time ago and he can tell from the shared frown on Ashley's face that hers has gone cold too.

With no reason for either of them to stay here now, they had only brought enough money for a single coffee each, it's pretty clear that their little coffee date is over. Neither of them say a word as they clean up their table and leave the cafe, their fingers intertwined as they usually are nowadays, but holding on tighter than usual. They separate only so they can get into Chris's truck, but the moment they settle into their seats, their hands find each other once again. And that's how Chris drives Ashley back to her mother's, hands gripping so tightly that they're fingers have turned white and not saying a single word the entire drive back. They never mentioned it, but neither of them have to. The moment they arrive at her place, then this is it. This will be the last time they're gonna see each other for an entire week, and the moment one of them speaks then any and all willpower they have to pull this off is going to be gone and they'll be back at where they started. They need to do this, even if neither of them want to.

It isn't until Chris pulls up in front and watches her let go of his hand to take off her seatbelt that it actually hits him. For the first time in six months, he's not going to be following her in. That he's going to continue the drive back to his own house alone. The realization shudders through him and he quickly finds himself fumbling at his own seatbelt clasp, and the moment he's free he's surging across the divide between them and taking Ashley's face in his hands as he kisses her like he's never going to be able to again. She doesn't hesitate to return the embrace either, throwing her arms around him and gripping onto him as though she never wants to let him go.

They spend what is probably far too long delaying the separation, but inevitably they do separate. And when they look at each other it's with tears in their eyes and their foreheads pressed so firmly together it's almost like they're trying to become one person.

"Just seven days, right? And that's it, we'll never have to do this again? You promise?"

Ashley doesn't say anything, she just nods and leans in for one last kiss, as though trying to memorize it and him for the coming week. And when she does pull away to leave, it's with her arms slowly untwining themselves from around Chris's neck, and then letting her fingers trail lightly over his shoulders, down his arms, and past his hands. Though she is stopped when Chris curls his fingers so that they catch on his, and doesn’t fight it as she watches wordlessly as he lifts them in front of his face and carefully lets the loose sleeves of her sweater drop so he can see the faint scars on her wrist that were left when the rope burns had healed. And as always, he makes no comment as softly places a kiss into the center of each wrist, followed by the palm, and then the tip of each finger, finally closing his eyes as he presses the back of her knuckles to his lips and holding her hands there. Just to remind himself that she was still here, that she hadn't died on Blackwood Mountain with all the rest.

He drops her hands when she pulls them back, but doesn't open his eyes when he feels her shaky fingers carefully remove his glasses and place them on the dashboard before returning her hands to his face in order to complete their little ritual. Gently, she traces the contours of his face with the pads of her thumbs, brushing them over his eyes, his nose, his lips, and following each with a soft kiss to the body part in question. Finishing as she always does by placing her lips in a closed mouth kiss to the area where his jaw and neck meet, and lingering just long enough so she can feel his pulse thrum beneath his skin. The minor burn from where he had once held the gun to his jaw had faded a long time ago, but he doesn't think that either will ever forget exactly where it used to be. And when she leans back, the usual expressions of relief and awe are hidden so far underneath the absolute heartbreak that they may as well not even exist. "I—" he starts, but stops just as quickly. It's far too overdue, but the timing isn't right. "I guess I'll see you next week then."

Ashley looks like she has something she wants to say, but instead reaches out to put Chris's glasses back on his face with shaking hands and as she opens the passenger door and gets out of the vehicle, she gives a weak smile. "Yeah, I...I'll see you then."

Chris just watches as she walks up to the building, gripping onto the steering wheel as hard as possible in an effort to hold himself back from trying to follow her into the building like every fibre of his being is screaming at him to do. And after sharing one last shaky and teary eyed smile from the top of the steps, Ashley unlocks the door and enters, leaving his sight for what feels like both the first time in forever, and the final time he'll ever get to see her.

He rushes the rest of the way home, and the moment he gets back he just about runs to his bedroom and hides under the covers of his bed, ignoring both the surprised greeting his mother sends his way and the inquiry about where Ashley is. He just wants to sleep.

The week will be over quicker that way.

***

By the end of the first day Ashley is ready to scream. Not because she misses Chris horribly (she does), or because waking up without Chris at her side had sent her into near hysterics (it did). She had expected these things after all, they were all things that she had to get used to again, he wasn't always going to be there with her after all. It still hurt—good god did it hurt—but all in all, it wasn't going terribly for the first day. She'd had no nightmares thankfully, and had spent most of the day reading, with some minor tidying up in her room and helping her mother around the house.

Oh no, the reason she was about to scream was her mother in question. Who after finding out why exactly Chris hadn't come home with her yesterday, and never made an appearance later on in the evening just before bed, had been frantic. Saundra wasn't angry, she didn't scream or yell or try to do anything that might set her daughter off, but she was being horribly insistent that maybe Ashely and Chris should have thought this through more. Asking why Ashley had never brought this up to her, and if she even mentioned that they were doing this to their doctors. She hadn't of course, because Ashley was fully aware that they would have done almost everything in their power to try and talk them out of it, telling them that the two of them weren't ready for separation of his magnitude yet. And of course neither of them were ready for this—they likely never would be—but it needed to be done if her and Chris had any hope of even trying to return to a normal lifestyle in time for them to return to college in January.

And, well, she was terrified about what would happen to them if they didn't. Sure it was deemed 'healthy' for now, as they tried and struggled to recover from what everyone around them said was a horribly traumatic series of events. But what about when it wasn't simply seen as healthy and therapeutic, but harmful and co-dependant? Ashley loved Chris, even if neither of them had said the words yet she felt it in her entire being everytime she looked at him, and the idea that one day they might grow to hate or resent each other for being unable to let go was too much. And so the completely necessary trial separation came into being. If they could prove that they could successfully be apart for something as short as a week, then this wasn't codependency in the making, it was healing pure and simple.

Now she just had to convince herself of that.

***

By early morning of the second day, Chris had finally admitted to himself what he had figured out a few short hours into his self-exiled bedrest: sleeping the week away when he had been finding it hard to sleep in general for months now was quite frankly going to be impossible. And so he had with great reluctance rolled himself out of his far too empty bed and into the shower, passing his own mother talking in hushed voices on the phone. Voices that quickly stopped the moment Lilith realized that her son was finally up and moving again, and then immediately confronting him afterwards and pleading that he tell her that nothing bad had happened between him and Ash. He weakly assures that everything's fine between them (it's not, everything is not fine, it won't be fine until she's by his side again), and that he'll talk to her after. The only thing he wants right now is a hot shower. Lilith lets him go reluctantly, but Chris is also very aware that the moment he steps foot into the bathroom, that she's going to be back on the phone with Saundra speaking in hushed and worried whispers.

The rest of the morning passes by in a haze of motherly questions—mixed with the occasional fatherly one every now and again just for spice—and a large breakfast that tastes and feels like ash in his mouth, and it bleeds into the afternoon, and then into the evening. Which finds Chris both bored out of his mind and desperate for a distraction as he digs through a pile of video games to try and find something to play. But everything he finds was either given to him by Ash, or ones the two of them had played together (if not both), so he abandons his search and instead finds himself out in the garage digging through dusty and broken down boxes until he finds the old playstation and games that his parents had gotten for him before he had ever met Ashley or...or...

Well, the point was he had a game now that carried no memories of anyone or anything except being six and terrible at video games. It does nothing to wipe away the loneliness and despair that covers him like a heavy blanket, but it's a start. An extremely stalled start to a race he wants nothing to do with, but a start nonetheless.

***

On day three, Ashley is starting to think that maybe her mom had been right and that this was such a stupid idea. Last night was especially bad. No matter how many blankets she had piled on her bed, no matter how many childhood stuffed animals she had shoved back on to fill up the empty space, none of it had helped. She had never felt so cold in her life and all the open space on the bed had made her feel like she was going to be swallowed up into the emptiness. In desperation she had started ripping the drawers from her dresser and throwing clothes from her closet, frantically holding back burning tears of frustration and the scream building up in her throat.

And then she found it. One of Chris's sweaters shoved half-hazardly away into a dark corner of her room under the bed, and had been forgotten about by the both of them until now. The immediacy with which she had fumbled to grab the thing and throw it on probably would have frightened her any other day, but with the tears finally flowing hot and heavy down her cheeks as she buried her face into the dark fibres, all she could feel was bone-crushing relief settling over her. Her room a mess she could deal with in the morning, Ashley had crawled into bed hugging herself and the sweater as close as she physically was able. She wasn't cold anymore, and the bed felt less empty too.

As long as she had a reminder that Chris was still alive, that she could still smell him even on this dusty and long-forgotten piece of clothing, then even if he wasn't physically here with her she could manage. And she would manage, she would. They were already halfway through the week after all, and she would prove to everyone—to herself—that they (she) could do this.

Ashley wears the sweater all the rest of the day once she wakes up.

***

In true Chris Hartley fashion, day four finds himself absolutely glued to the screen of his phone. Shortly after forcing down a small breakfast in an attempt to alleviate his worried parents' concern, he had spent what was probably a far too long amount of time in his text messages just staring at Ash's name. His thumbs hovering nervously over the keyboard as he fought with himself over and over again, debating if texting Ashley would be okay. Yes, the two of them had agreed that this 'break' (he hates the word, hates it hates it hates it with every fibre of his being) was needed if they wanted to try and get themselves ready for the separation that college life would inevitably bring, but that was to try and prepare themselves for not being able to see each other for long periods of time. They wouldn't be able to see each other during classes or during periods of intense studying and working on projects, but they would still be able to talk. Hell, his entire first year of college while she was still in high school had been just that. They hadn't been able to hang out in weeks, but they had still texted all the time.

So biting the bullet, Chris had gone ahead and texted Ash a quick and easy 'hey'. No 'miss you', no 'this was a terrible idea', no ' i wish you were here right now'. Just a simple 'hey' and then he stared at his phone, face pale and hands shaking as he waited to see what she would do. He didn't care if she would just send back a scathing reply about how he was breaking the rules by doing this, he just needed her to respond and reassure him that she was alright. That she was still alive and his insecurities were getting the best of him.

The phone rumbling softly in his hand was a godsend, and so too was the affirmative 'hi :)' that she had responded with. After that, it was as though the floodgates had opened. The two of them texted each other back and forth the entire rest of the day, her telling him about the books she had been reading as he told her about his adventures through late 90's and early 2000's gaming. They told each other what they had for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. They talked about everything and nothing and it was so blissfully normal that Chris wondered why on earth it had taken him this long to text her in the first place. He thinks that he was so used to just having her there with him all the time, that the idea that they could still text hadn't even crossed his mind.

There are things he doesn't tell her of course. That the idea of falling asleep without knowing she's next to him and safe is so ludicrous that he had stopped trying, only sleeping in small, unintended fits that leave him feeling even worse than before. That despite at least continuing to eat, the food tastes like nothing and he can only manage a few bites before excusing himself. And what little he does eat almost always manages to come back up during the night, though thankfully when his parents are both sleeping (he doesn't want them to worry more than they already are). Chris doesn't want to worry Ashley, not when it seems like she's managing this whole seven-day long affair better than he is so far. If she can do this, then so can he.

So no matter how many times his thumb hovers over the call icon in the corner, he does not press it. Texting will have to be enough, he knows that the moment he hears her voice then every single shred of resolution he has built up will crumble in seconds and he'll be driving as fast as he can so he can see her again. And they're already four days deep into their seven days, the last thing he wants is for Ashley to decide that they need to start all this over from the top again.

***

Ashley is comfortable in her bed, more comfortable than she's ever felt in her life honestly. Chris's arm is draped heavily over her waist, and his breath is warm on the back of her neck as he peacefully naps the afternoon away. His body is solid against her back and she feels so, so safe and so, so loved as she continues to read her book, a favourite of hers that she had read cover to cover a million times but always felt like coming home in its warm familiarity. Contentedly, she flips a page and snuggles back further into Chris's body and she feels something warm and wet drip onto her neck.

"Chriiiiiiis," she groans, but not without an edge of laughter, "wake up. You're drooling on me, you dip." He doesn't move, and Ashley repositions herself a little, made difficult by the weight of his arm over her, and jabs her elbow into his gut. "I'm serious you dork, wake up. I swear to god, you sleep like the de—" The words die in her throat in horror when she turns her head to face him.

His head isn't there. Nothing is there. Just dark blood pouring hot and heavy from the open space above his neck, staining the fur lining his coat and the once clean, white snow as the blizzard rages around her. Desperate to prove that this isn't real, that it can't be real, she fumbles for the hand that hangs limp at her waist and threads her fingers through his, but his fingers are cold to the touch and black with frostbite, and no matter how hard she squeezes he isn't squeezing back. She's fully aware that she's openly crying and sobbing as she repeats his name over and over, begging him to wake up and tell her that this isn't real. Her tears are freezing on her cheeks the moment they fall.

From deep within the treeline, a high-pitched shriek that rattles the teeth in her mouth echoes long and loud around the wide, open snow-covered space.

Cries and nausea alike stick in her throat as she tries frantically to wiggle out from Chris's body, but his arm is a dead weight that keeps her pinned in place against him. "C'mon, Chris. We need to go. We need to hide. Get up, please please please get up."

There's a soft thump of a large body landing in the snow far off to the right, unseen but not unheard, and she freezes in place. Hoping and praying that the thing won't see them as she huddles in closer to the protection that Chris's body is offering, her blood stained fingers tightening painfully on his limp hand and around the leather bound journal she is still holding in her other. In fear she buries her face into the snow beneath her, the cold biting at her skin and the metallic taste of Chris's spilt blood filling her mouth and nose. For a moment, there's nothing. No sound except for the wind whistling through the trees as the snow whips wildly around them.

And then Chris is gone. The comforting and yet horrifying weight he had been is just gone as he's suddenly flung through the air and colliding into a tree with a sickening crunch. Her hand had been gripping onto his so fiercely and so tightly that she had been pulled with him for just a second before his hand had been violently ripped out of her grasp. Leaving Ashley to stare wide-eyed and terrified into the face of the thing—its body too long and spindly with far too many sharp angles to be considered human—standing above her as she lays on her back. Milky-white eyes gaze back down unseeingly at her and Chris's blood is dripping from sharp, deadly claws that splatter onto her face. The thing opens its mouth to showcase row upon row of crooked and yellowed razor-sharp teeth and it screams at her, spittle flying into Ashley's face as her ears ring and ring and ring.

Too scared to cry, too scared to move, Ashley just wishes that Chris was still here with her and not lying broken and mangled and headless at the foot of a tree as he continues to slowly bleed out into the crisp white snow. A small little whimper, barely louder than the whisper of wind blowing through grass and certainly going unheard in this howling blizzard, escapes past her lips but it's enough. In a flash, the same deadly claws are raking towards her face to rip her head off in the same way it had to Chris.

And Ashley screams.

She screams and screams and screams, and screams only louder when a pair of hands cradle her face and a voice begs and pleads with her to wake up. Ashley tries to fight back against the hands and the voice, screaming for Chris to wake up and help her, but her own words keep getting caught on the blood that is bubbling out of her mouth. There's another scream, this one not her own, and then the hands have moved to try and open her mouth but she won't let them. She doesn't want her jaw ripped off like what had happened to poor Jess. Like what she had seen in the pictures that the rangers had shown her and Chris so they could identify the half naked body discovered in the mines. So she fights back even harder, trying to claw at the person or thing that killed Chris and Jess and everyone else. And then there's a cry of pain, and the hands on her face have vanished, appearing around her wrists so they could try and hold her panicked flailing back.

The moment the hands appear on her wrists, Ashley's eyes fly open and she can't breathe. She can't breathe because she's hanging in the shed, the wood cold against her back as saws whir menacingly both in front and above her as Josh hangs limpy next to her. The lower half of his body an impossible mess on the floor and the grey intestines that had managed to stay in his upper half hanging down towards it like grotesque party streamers. From behind the steel chain link fence that partitions the room, Chris stands looking straight at her as he holds a gun to his jaw, his face pale as he smiles shakily at her and pulls the trigger.

Somehow, the scream that finally manages to break through is louder than all the rest.

There's more begging and pleading that she can't make out against the loud mechanical whir of the saws. And then a phone chimes, only just managing to cut through all the screaming and whirring and echoes of gunshots. And then it chimes again, louder this time. And again. And again. And she realizes that she recognizes it, it's the ringtone that Chris had set on her phone for his contact ages and ages ago as a joke, and she had just kept forgetting to change it back until it just became his notification, joke or not.

Slowly, the shed fades away until all she's left seeing is her mother standing in her brightly lit bedroom, screaming at someone through her phone. But all Ashley is paying attention to is the repeated chimes going off constantly on her phone one after another, the screen never getting the chance to go dark before another text comes in, and Chris's name appearing for every single one.

Saundra seems to notice that her daughter has finally stopped screaming, and although she continues to plead with whoever it is on the phone with her, she reaches out a hesitant and unsure hand. Ashley notices none of this as blood continues to dribble slowly out of her mouth as she picks up and unlocks her phone.

***

Something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong and it isn't the fact that Chris is kneeling over the toilet as he retches into it for the second time tonight. Oh no, the something wrong is due to the fact that despite it being past midnight he can hear his mom trying frantically to calm someone down on the phone. It was the phone ringing that had woken him up in fact from where he had accidentally dozed off on the couch, waking up to find the old playstation controller hanging loose in his fingers and Crash idly spinning a piece of wumpa fruit on his finger in all his polygonal glory. Chris had dropped the controller the rest of the way to the floor in his rush to the bathroom though, startling poor Toby from where he had been snoozing the night away in his dog bed. He had only barely made it before he found himself throwing up what little food he had been able to eat during the day, and the coolness of the porcelain against is forehead was a balm of relief when compared to the burning in his throat and heat of his tears as they flowed slowly down his face.

He could tell the moment that Lilith had found him from the surprised cry of alarm behind him, quickly followed by a clatter as she dropped the phone to the linoleum floor in her shock as she reached out to take her son's face in her hands. Chris knew that he must have looked a dreadful sight, his face pale and drawn while his eyes looked at her with a glassy stare. The next second, she was yelling over her shoulder for his father to wake up now and turn on the car, but Chris wasn't paying any attention to that. Not when he was just starting to make out the sound of the voice through the phone, and more importantly, the screaming in the background of the call.

That was Ashley's scream. It was a sound he didn't think he would ever be allowed to forget and it hit him that she was screaming—screaming for him—and he wasn't there.

Clumsily, he ripped his face from his mother's hands and stumbled to the living room where he had left his phone on the couch. He had to help her. She needed him and he had to help her. The moment he finally had his phone in his hand he pulled up her contact name...and then he froze unsure of what to do. He couldn't call her, not because of this whole stupid break thing, but because the sound of her voice sobbing on the phone will cause him to break down with her and the last thing either of them need is to scream and cry while they're both so, so far away from each other. So he does the next best thing he can do:

He texts her.

C: what does a cloud wear under his raincoat? C: thunderwear C: why are teddy bears never hungry? C: cause they're always stuffed C: why do ducks have tail feathers? C: to cover up their buttquacks C: what kind of shoes do private investigators wear? C: sneak-ers C: why do i never tell jokes about pizza? C: they're too cheesey

And on and on and on. Even as his fingers shake he continues to text her stupid little jokes. The same ones he tells to her when he's there to hold her in his arms and remind her that he's still okay and that she’s safe. There's no describing the sob of relief he makes when she finally responds.

C: prime-mates C: what event do spiders love to attend? A: Cats C: webbings

There's a moment where he doesn't know what she means by that. How on earth could cats be the pun he was looking for in the joke? And then it hits him. She needs to know that it's really him telling these jokes and that she's not just making up everything she's seeing on her phone. Ashley is asking for the stupidest jokes about cats he knows so she can confirm that it's really him on the phone. Even tired as he is—and he is so so tired—they come naturally to him as only talking with Ashley and middle school dad jokes ever did.

C: what's a cat's favourite colour? C:purr-ple C: what do you call a cat that loves to bowl? C: an alley cat C: what's a cat's favourite tv show? C: claw and order C: what does the cat say after making a joke? C: just kitten

And so on and so forth. Ashley throws out a new topic for jokes and Chris replies with them as quickly as he can. He can hear his mom and dad talking in the next room, to each other and Saundra on the phone, but the only person he cares about is the one on the other side of his. He needs to call her. He knows what Ashley needs when she has a nightmare this bad, and the jokes are helping but she needs to hear his voice to be truly convinced that he's okay. But he can't hear hers without making things so much worse than they already are and he doesn't know what to say that would calm her down and—he stares at the last joke he had just typed out unconsciously it hits him.

C: what did the two volcanoes say to each other? C: i lava you C: i'm going to call your phone but whatever you do don't answer it C: just let it go to voicemail and please don't answer it C: please

Chris doesn't wait for her response as he shoves past his father to his bedroom, ignoring the startled shout as he slams the door behind him, and slumps against it to the floor. He doesn't want his parents to hear this. It's not anything that would worry them, but it's so so private and the only person he wants to hear this is Ash. He still doesn't look at her response as he frantically taps the call button and listens to the phone ring. And ring. And ring. And ring. And ring. And then, finally, he hears her voice for the first time in nearly a week.

"Hi, this is Ashley. Sorry I can't come to the phone right now but leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Promise!"

***

Please enter your password.

6279#

You have one new voice message. To play your messages, press one. To record—

"I love you. I'm so sorry that I'm not there so say it to your face but I love you so much that I can't fucking stand it somedays and I should have told you ages ago. I should have said it five days ago but I didn't. I should have been saying it to you before falling asleep and after waking up every day. On the helicopter ride down the mountain. When you kissed me for the first time. I think I was lying when I said that nothing was wasted between us, because I should have been screaming this to you from the first moment you smiled at me. I wasted so much time not telling you this so I'm going to say it now. I love you, I love you, I love you, I lo—"

To replay this message: press one. To go to—

"I love you. I'm so sorry that I'm not there so say it to your face but I love you so much that I can't fucking stand it somedays and I should have told you ages ago. I should have said something five days ago but I didn't. I should have been saying it to you before falling asleep every night and after waking up every morning. On the helicopter ride down the mountain. When you kissed me for the first time. I think I was lying when I said that nothing was wasted between us, because I should have been screaming this to you from the first moment you smiled at me over that diner's table. I wasted so much time not telling you this so I'm going to say it now. I love you, I love you, I love you, I lo—"

"I love you. I'm—"

"I love you."

To replay this message: press one. To go to the previous message: press one one. To pause during message playback: press two. To fast forward a message during playing: press three. To hear this message, and the time it was delivered: press five. To copy this message to another person: press six. To erase this message and go to the next: press seven. To reply: press eight. To save this message and go to the next: press nine. To—

You have no new messages.

*beep*

A: I need you A: Please A: Please A: I need you A: I need you A: I need you

Please enter your password.

***

The car ride over was almost unbearable. Chris wasn't driving himself fortunately, with how tired and anxious he had been feeling for days now it would have been an absurdly stupid idea that likely would have ended in his death if he wasn't extremely lucky. As it was, he had been ready to go and beg a ride from his parents but had found Gabe already standing by the front door with the keys in hand. His almost pure white hair messy from being pulled from bed unexpectedly and leveling Chris with a glare that brooked no argument. It wasn't an argument that Chris intended to fight against as he hugged his father hard in thanks before climbing into the back of the vehicle.

But the drive had felt so much longer than it usually did, and Ashley having stopped responding to his texts certainly hadn't helped matters any. He still sent them anyways, more for his own reassurance than hers now. Lilith sat in the passenger seat next to her husband, still talking on the phone to Saundra to give progress reports and reassurances that yes the three of them were on their way now, even as she sent the occasional nervous glances at Chris in the backseat. Though worried for him or for the car upholstery in case the movement of the vehicle set off his gag reflex was anyone's guess.

The moment Chris felt the vehicle slow down his eyes jumped to the window and saw the familiar and welcoming shape of Ashley's building and he was already fumbling with seatbelt and opening the car door before they had even fully stopped. He hears his parent's cry out in shock as he dives out the still moving (even if very slowly) vehicle and he's stumbling towards the door. Chris realizes in horror that in his hurry to leave he had managed to completely forget his keys by the front door, and in the time it takes him to realize that the door has already opened. Saundra is standing in front of him dressed up for her overnight shift at the dispatch center that she is now extremely late for, and phone held up to her ear as she stares at him with wide eyes.

Chris doesn't even bother to say thanks or remark about the deep scratches on her cheek, the pair still bleeding just a little, before he's shoving his way past her and up the stairs to where Ashley's room is. He trips on the last step and falls forward, his phone skittering across the floor, but leaves it once he gets to his feet and just about barges into her room.

He takes barely a moment to stare at Ashley huddled up on her bed, looking so small in his dark sweater, and her eyes squeezed shut as her phone is pressed as close to her ear as possible as she rocks back and forth. There's a thin streak of dried blood from her mouth all the way down her chin and her eyes fly open in shock when he takes an unsteady step towards her. For a split second he's too scared to move, he doesn't want to frighten her anymore than she already is, but then the phone drops from her fingers and she whimpers out his name like she can’t believe he’s really here and he breaks.

He's already fully crying as he collides into her on the bed, but so is she so there's no need to feel embarrassed about that. He can hear his own voice as a tinny facsimile from the phone as the voicemail continues to play out before starting off into the electronic drone of the operator, but he ignores it for the feel of Ashley's arms wrapped firmly around him, her hands clawing into the back of his shirt to try and hold him closer as they both sob bitterly into each others shoulders. Chris is the first to pull back, though it's just so he can hold her face in his hands as he presses their foreheads together, thumbs wiping away tears that won't stop falling even as he continues to cry himself, just soaking in her presence in front of him. Ashley takes no time for her hands to start roaming all over his skin when they snake underneath his shirt, just feeling the unmarked bare skin as she searches for wounds and marks that no longer exist or have never even existed in the first place.

The two of them sit there like that for an unknown amount of time, just confirming that the other is truly alive and safe. Until Ashley slowly removes her hands from under his shirt so she can drag him down and forward into a deep kiss. A kiss that is by all accounts is downright awful considering that Chris never got the chance to rinse out his mouth and all he can taste is the blood in Ashley's from where she had bit her tongue during her nightmare at some point. Neither of them care. And he still doesn't care when Ashley starts to leave what may very well be slightly bloody kisses as she trails her lips from his mouth to the corner of his lips, across his cheek, and down his jaw until she finds the spot she's looking for and stops there so she can feel his frantic pulse thrumming beneath the skin. She holds her mouth there for what many would likely consider to be an uncomfortably long amount of time, but Chris says nothing. Not when he's now too busy picking up where Ashley had let off, letting his hands skate over the area of her stomach and waist beneath her shirt and his sweater.

The moment the two of them have calmed down enough that the sobs have lessened into quiet tears, Ashley finally removes her lips from his jaw and lowers one of her hands so she can place it flat on his chest and can feel his heart thumping steadily beneath her hand. Chris lets a hand cover hers to hold it there while he carefully places the other on the back of her neck, this thumb soothingly rubbing back and forth to comfort her. And gently, so gently, he brings their foreheads back together as they let the last of their adrenaline run out.

She's safe. He's safe. They're both safe and that is all that matters right now.

"I'm sorry," Ashley is the first to speak and words catch and almost shatter on the way out. "I'm so sorry. This was such a stupid idea and—"

He doesn't disagree with her. This had been a terrible idea from the start and while she's not wrong that they need to get used to not being around all the time, this was too much too soon. For both of them it seems. "I can't do that again Ash," he says instead. "We'll figure something out. Make agreements with our dorm roommates if we have to, force the college heads to accept our emails and the doctors advice, or rent the shittiest and cheapest apartment we can find. I don't care. We'll figure it out, but I can't do that again Ash. I love you but I can't."

Ashley nods weakly against his head in agreement. She can't do it again either. The two of them had barely lasted five days after all, and this whole failed endeavour had probably sent them back months. "I love you too. I love you so so much. You can't leave me, Chris, please. You can't. Not tonight."

He has no intention to, he doesn't know what his parents intended bringing him here, or if they thought he'd be going back home with them after this, but he's not going anywhere. They'll have to drag him kicking and screaming from the bed if they try, and now that the adrenaline has finally worn off, the lack of sleep he'd been having the last five days is hitting him and he is just so, so very tired. So tired, that all he gives in reply is just a reassuring forehead kiss in promise that he won't be going anywhere, not for a long time if he can help it, and then starts to bring Ashley down so she can lay on the bed with him. She follows without a fight.

It only takes them a moment to settle, Ashley laying so her front is flush to his back as is physically possible with her arm draped over his waist and fingers threaded tightly through his. Chris takes her other hand so he can softly kiss her inner wrist and then holds the knuckles lightly to his lips. The two of them slowly drifting off as Ashley continues to softly whisper declarations of love into the back of his neck.

Chris's eyes are closed, just enjoying her whispers that are meant just for him to hear, and even then he can tell that someone is standing in the door and watching them. But even if he opened his eyes to see who it was, with his glasses now resting in their spot on Ashley’s bedside table, he wouldn’t be able to tell anyway. And he’s just far too exhausted to even try right now. It’s only her mom anyway, or one of his parents—quite possibly all three of them—and he knows that come morning and after hours and hours of sleep, that there are going to be some conversations and intense worried scolding that need to be had. But with Ashley's fingers squeezing around his, and him squeezing back just as firmly, he doesn't care.

For the first time in a little over five days, the two of them fall asleep peacefully. Secure and content in the knowledge that they’re not gonna have to do this again, not for a very, very long time.

#my writing #pride month prompt challenge #until dawn #chris hartley #ashley brown #chrashley #is a sad heartbreaking story #lik dis if you cry #asdsakjdasd

19 notes · View notes