#alright Tali that’s enough thoughts for the night
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Hmmm
I can’t help but think about how Flash season two would’ve gone if ‘Jay’ (Hunter) fell for Barry instead of Caitlin
#these are thoughts that I tend to push away#idk most hero x villain stuff just makes me uncomfortable#coldflash is the exception#ok scratch that#hero x villain with no redemption arc is what I don’t like#because then it’s usually one sided which leads into ‘nope’ tag territory#alright Tali that’s enough thoughts for the night#I’m too scared to look it up on Ao3 cause I bet someone’s done it#shit I have to actually tag now#the flash#cw the flash#barry allen#hunter zolomon#nope.#I’m not tagging them as a ship.#you can’t make me.#huh what would their ship name be tho#ok ok I’ll stop thinking for real this time#nighttime thoughts#my posts#also when I say ‘thought about’ I actually mean just thinking about it#I’m definitely not writing this#*the definitely is not sarcasm#lol it's funny to go back to these months later#I was STRUGGLING
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
Clockwork heart pt14
Part 13 here
———
Wyrm: *seated in the Vilemyr inn writing down what his new companions want to order as they pool their coin* I don’t know if they’ll have Horker this far inland but I’ll ask, if they don’t will beef or venison do?
Kaidan: aye, honestly anything will be an improvement from the mouldy bread they force fed me…
Wyrm: *feeling queasy at the mere thought of it* I-I’ll ask to make sure the bread here isn’t mouldy. Tali you just want a baked potato and some leaks with slaughterfish if they have any?
Taliesin: *combing out his hair after a bath* yes please I’m starving after fighting off all those bandits.
Kaidan: I can’t imagine you fighting off anybody without crying over a chipped nail.
Taliesin: Oh yes and who saved you from the thalmor again? The thalmor that managed to capture you? That’s what I thought.
Kaidan: *huffs* I was asleep when they jumped me.
Wyrm: *ignoring their bickering, in truth not even registering their distaste for each other as he picks up the paper and the menu before walking over to the counter* m-mr wilhelm?
Wilhelm: *back turned to him talking to the bard* Lynly I told you to stay away from that accursed place for a reason! It’s haunted! I promised to protect you…
Lynly Star-Sung: I know I know I just wanted to see if the rumours were true I- *pauses seeing Wyrm waiting* oh I’m so sorry.
Wilhelm: *turns to see the small pearl eyed dunmer staring at them* Oh uh, forgive me sir I didn’t see you there. How can I help you.
Wyrm: *offers him the paper and menu* I-I’d like to order now please. What’s haunted?
Wilhelm: I, Ah, it’s… the barrow. There’s a ghost terrorising the village from it, at night you can hear the most dreadful of sounds and see it walking behind the stones.
Wyrm: a-a ghost? *looks at the bag of coin in his hand, having counted only enough for their stay at the inn* m-maybe I could investigate it for you?
Wilhelm: y-you will? Are you sure? I’d appreciate the help but please be careful.
Wyrm: *nods* I’ll talk to my companions about it.
Wilhelm: Thank you, *takes the paper and menu, reading his note* ‘Fraid I don’t have any horker available but I can make a sandwich with deer if that’s alright?
Wyrm: y-yes that’ll be fine. Thank you. *hands him the gold before walking back to the table*
Kaidan: it go well?
Wyrm: there’s no horker.
Kaidan: damn shame.
Wyrm: how do you guys feel about catching a ghost?
Taliesin: *chokes on his wine* excuse me?
Wyrm: a-a ghost is haunting the barrow. The innkeeper asked me to investigate it.
Kaidan: Pffft, lot more than just ghosts to worry about in Nordic barrows. I’d be more concerned about the Draugr, an who does he think he is asking you to handle it?
Wyrm: I mean, the Jarl of whiterun asked me to kill a dragon, a ghost seems a-a lot less scary than- *remembers the dragons maw opening up and fire erupting towards him* that.
Kaidan: Has he gone mad?! You got one arm, a rock for an eye and you can’t even swing a sword.
Taliesin: *getting irked at Kaidan taking a jab at Wyrm, unintentional or not* and yet he still obliterated it.
Kaidan: by doing wha-
*sniffle*
Kaidan: *looks at Wyrm to see him visibly trembling as tears prick at his eye* I- hey it’s-
Wyrm: t-teacup- *sniffles and hurries off to the room they’d rented before his hiccups can start*
Kaidan: teacup? *watches him run off* oh fock now I’ve done it. I was only joking- OW!
Taliesin: *stabbed a fork into his hand* He can’t tell, you imbecile. You’re as blunt as you are thick in the head! *gets up and walks off after Wyrm to calm him down knowing the state he’s most likely worked himself into*
Kaidan: … *sighs and gets up grabbing his sword before walking outside and to the barrow*
*a few minutes later*
Taliesin: *brushing out Wyrms hair for him* don’t mind him, he’s more trouble than he’s worth.
Wyrm: n-no he’s right… h-how am I meant to be the dragonborn if I can’t even defend my- *hiccups* self. *rubs his eyes*
Taliesin: You certainly looked like you were defending yourself when you incinerated that dragon. Don’t let him bother you, the only thing he’s got going for him is his muscles and ‘decent’ looking face.
Wyrm: *looks back at him and blinks* y-you think he’s pret-
*BOOM!!*
Taliesin: What in oblivion was that?!
Wyrm: *practically jumps into taliesins arms out of fright* an illusion spell being broken?? *shakily stands up and runs out of the room to see Kaidan stepping back into the inn picking a poison dart out of his neck and holding a now dead elfs body along with his journal*
Kaidan: Turns out the ghost was pretty alive- *grunts plucking the dart out* Oh aye, can I apologise to you now friend?
Wyrm: *staring at the dead dunmer, his mind suddenly going black as memories belonging to someone else swarm and buzz in his brain like thousands of flies bringing a plague. A plague that saw thousands of dark elves turned into mindless ghouls, bloated masses of the living dead, all of them festering in undeath as their walking corpses rotted with the corprus* …T…teacup… *staggers back as blood leaks from his nose and he passes out from shock*
Taliesin: *drops to his knees catching Wyrm in his arms* WYRM?! WYRM WAKE UP!
Kaidan: …oh shite.
*a few hours later*
Taliesin: *sitting beside Wyrms bed, cleaning his face from sweat as the small dunmer tosses and turns in his sleep, visibly uncomfortable and stuck in his own body as nightmares plague him* …
Kaidan: *walks in with their dinner* how’s he-
Taliesin: Shh.
Kaidan: …how’s he holding up?…
Taliesin: he’s not… *wipes under his nose as a bit more blood escapes* he said he’d been suffering nightmares a lot recently… but he’s been blacking out too… whatever he saw when he looked at you or… that body… it set him off…
Kaidan: *frowns looking at him then at Wyrm, watching him tremble and writhe like he’s in pain* …I’m sorry…
Taliesin: it’s not me you need to be apologising too. It’s him.
Kaidan: I know… *looks at the food quietly, not wanting to tuck in and seem insensitive* …what does teacup mean by the way?… heard him say it a lot… he said it when we first met too…
Taliesin: it’s his safe word. He says it, and I come to his aid. To protect him, to comfort him, to fight for him… to let him know I’m here.
Kaidan: …do you love him?
Taliesin: What?!
Wyrm: *whimpers a little*
Taliesin: *quickly quiets down* no, I’m just taking my role as his protector seriously. He asked me to get him home and I am… we just keep running into detours.
Kaidan: you think he’s really the dragonborn then?… that why you decided to take this path instead of going directly to winterhold?
Taliesin: as far as I’m concerned it’s most likely nord superstition, something strange did happen after he obliterated that beast… but I’ve never seen a dragon or a dragon be killed before so who am I to say what he is or not. So we’ll go up this mountain and see what these old men want.
Kaidan: *holds out his plate to him* alright, never thought I’d make the pilgrimage to high hrothgar myself but, there’s a first time for everything.
Taliesin: *takes his food from him and sets it aside as he turns his attention back to Wyrm* hopefully… he’ll be alright to make the climb when he wakes…
Kaidan: …hopefully he’ll accept my apology too.
———
???: lord seht please! Please help us!
???: my son! My son is sick my lord please!
???: my wife! Her eyes! Her face! It took her face!
???: it’s the mountain! It’s coming from the mountain my lord!
???: it hurts! It hurts! It hurts! It H̵̙͚̃̕ũ̴͓̃ͅr̶̪̞̄͛t̵̘̯͘͝ş̸̣̀ ̵̜̥͑͝h̴̲̊u̷̖̔̈r̵̜͛͘t̶͛̏͜s̴̛̲̙ ̶̡̛̉h̷̜̀̿u̸̘͂r̵̫̋͗t̵̗̬͛s̸̺̜͌͌ ̶̡͓͒͗h̷̫̎ṷ̸͗̆r̷̘̮̉t̴̛͉̔s̶͍͛ ̶̧̲͝h̶̏͜u̵̳̣͗̎r̷͕̬͂͊t̶̖̒s̷̼̈́̃ ̷͖͎͊h̸́͂͜ṷ̷̯̇r̸̦̂t̵̰̲̿š̵̨̯ ̸̡̉̃ḥ̷͑ủ̴̦̇r̷̻̃̌ṭ̵̘̐͋s̷̪̙͛ ̸̜̅͛h̷̬̓͗ủ̶͚r̶̖̦͑̂t̴͎̾s̸̛̗ẖ̴͕̀̓u̸͓̦͑͝r̸̠̱͠ṯ̷͆͝s̶̪̔͘h̶͈̻͆̒ù̷̡͇͂r̴̜͘t̸͉͖͆̏s̷͔̖̎̋h̸̡̫͊u̸̢̙͛r̶͓̤̔ṱ̶͑s̷͍̍̆h̸̥̲̏u̵͈̖̓̋r̵̩̝̈́͝ẗ̵̫ș̴̪̑͝ḩ̷͌ͅu̸͚͒r̸͖̮̊t̸̳̉̄s̸̤̞̎h̷͓̆ů̶̼r̶̠̞̈́̈́t̶̺̉̌s̴͈̗͠h̶̢̝͂͝u̸̿ͅŕ̵̻̦t̵̮͊s̵̝̚̚͜h̸̫̦̓̀ų̵̫͝r̷̳͕̐̆t̶͇̖̊s̸̡̼̈́͘h̴̬͚̀u̵̫̗͠r̸̜͑t̷̯͙́s̸̲͑̓ḩ̷͓̏ṵ̷̫͝r̸̻̝̈̀t̸̝̆̅s̴̨͖̑
…
…
…
Wyrm: *trembling as he looks around the space before him, only to see a mass of wires connecting to him in an empty chamber, his limbs replaced with metal and his flesh rotting* wh- what? Where- am I- *blinks again and nearly screams as the bloodied skinned face of indoril nerevar appears inches from his own*
“Wake. Up.”
Wyrm: *jolts awake and immediately screams and panics as he’s suddenly grabbed by two gentle gloved hands* LET ME GO! LET ME GO! HELP ME!
Taliesin: *easily keeping him restrained with a gentle hold* Wyrm, it’s me Wyrm! Come back to me…
Wyrm: *blinks and looks around frantically, vision splotchy with white flashes and the memory of nerevars face* Wh-what? I? *shivers feeling a cold breeze brush against him before finally resting his eyes up on taliesins concerned face, the moon reflecting in his eyes… they were outside* what h-happened?…
Taliesin: You were having a nightmare then you started sleep walking… *gently strokes his cheek drying his tears*
Wyrm: I?… I did? I?… *shivers at his touch and the night air blowing through his thin night shirt and trousers* …teacup… p-please?…
Taliesin: *removes his robe and places it around the smaller elf as he lifts him up and takes him back to the inn* shhh, it’s okay, it was just a bad dream. It can’t hurt you.
Wyrm: *hugs onto him trembling* b-but what if I hurt somebody instead?…
*the next day and an extremely long climb later*
Wyrm: *walking from high hrothgar* th-thank you for teaching me Mr Arngeir.
Arngeir: Don’t mention it dragonborn. It is our duty as the greybeards to teach you. But are you sure you wish to leave just yet? It’s very late. There is always beds available in high hrothgar.
Wyrm: oh I w-wouldn’t want to impose- *pauses looking at the steps to see Kaidan & Taliesin practically crawling to the steps, groaning and whining*
Kaidan: just- push me down it I’ll try and steer*
Taliesin: my legs- I can’t feel my legs-
Wyrm: a-actually yes I think we’ll take you up on that offer. G-guys? We’re staying the night!
Kaidan & Taliesin: *both collapse onto each other with a relieved sigh* ughh!
*meanwhile*
Ancano: *skulking about the collage writing his report, nose fixed back into place but now very bruised after being broken by Urag*
???: Out of the way out of the way!
Ancano: …Hm? *looks back in time to see Tolfdir and Enthir running back into the collage, both carrying Urag on a stretcher, the old orc freezing and suffering from hypothermia after getting lost in the blizzard trying to find his son* …Hm. *walks off with a sly smirk on his face, hoping Urag passes away and leaves Wyrm vunerable for him to steal away back to the isles* what, a, pity.
#kaidan skyrim#skyrim taliesin#urag gro shub#ancano#wyrm dragonborn#dunmer dragonborn#sotha sil#Nerevar
33 notes
·
View notes
Text
Misfire [Shakarian Fic]
Rating: Mature TW: Injury, Mental Health Summary:
Ryn Shepard doesn't want to die. But she's not doing what she should to keep herself alive. To herself, she's a machine of the war, no longer a person.
A mission against Cerberus goes wrong, and Ryn's blood is on Garrus' hands in order to save her.
Or, Ryn struggles hard with what happens on Thessia, Garrus struggles to support her, and Chakwas is pissed off with Shepard's sacrificial attitude.
AO3 LINK
--
Ryn was exhausted. Her shotgun felt like lead in her arms, her helmet a brutally heavy crown atop her head.
The eight hours she'd slept the previous night did not count; they'd been anything but restful when all she could do was roll from side to side, trying to banish thoughts of Thessia from her mind.
She couldn't.
At this point, sleep was just a formality. She was never going to recover the hours of sleep debt she was in.
"Shepard, you good?" Garrus' voice rumbled over her inter-helmet comms system and she nodded, taking a needed breath before responding.
"I'm all here, Vakarian." She looked towards him, perched at a vantage point facing their final communications station left to retake. Tali stood on her right, her attack drone pulsing and bobbing beside her.
Ryn added, "Let's get in and out, easy, alright? We can be home by dinner if we're quick."
"Mm, ship rations, my favorite." Garrus chimed in as Tali groaned at the bright, brutally sarcastic optimism Ryn poured into the latter half of her sentence.
Despite the weight that felt like it was pushing her into the ground, Ryn couldn't help a snorting laugh, "Don't worry, you'll get your good food, we're aiming for the Citadel after this."
"It's about damn time." Tali muttered before perking up at movement ahead, "Looks like Cerberus finally decided to show up."
One of the Cerberus troops spun and fell to the ground before they'd cleared the crates that amassed into scattered barricades.
"Heh, scoped and dropped." Garrus hummed over their helmets' comms.
Ryn's mouth quirked up in the barest hints of a grim smile as she focused her biotics around her, shooting off towards the nearest trooper in a storm of energy. She slammed into the soldier, sending them staggering backward. Another pulse of energy dropped the soldier's shields.
She repeated that familiar rhythm, charging and expelling the energy in a brilliant purple nova, bouncing around the battlefield in streaming light.
She could sustain this pattern for long enough to get them through this battle, she insisted with herself. She was far more powerful with her biotics than she was with her guns. Guns could only get her so far when Cerberus had their troops increasingly armored.
Guns needed to reload. Her biotics would last until her brain short circuited and melted out her ears. And if they reached that point in a fight, well, then shit was already so far gone they would have bigger problems to worry about.
Garrus and Tali's voices carried on in the back of her awareness, calling out warnings to each other as Garrus kept an eye on the troop movements from his higher location.
Ryn zeroed in on a Phantom prowling the battlefield, marking their location just before the soldier's invisibility mechanism clicked on. She hit the Phantom like a freight train, sending them both staggering as her exhaustion waned her raw strength.
Grimacing, she began to pull her biotic energy back around her in an increasingly tight coil, poised to charge again. The amassing light and energy around her sputtered out as the Phantom slammed into her first, pushing her back up against the wall of the communications tower.
She struggled, pulling on that energy again. It fizzled inside of her, her implants screaming like burning knives in her temples at each failure to expend the energy she'd gathered. The Phantom's grip on her was vise-like, forcing her back against the wall.
Her biotics would last until her brain short circuited and melted out of her ears…her head blazed with enough pain that she wondered if she was approaching that point at the speed of light.
Ryn's teeth snapped together as the Phantom's grip shifted, hammering her head back against the wall behind her. Blood filled her mouth in an iron-tinged deluge and she gagged.
This was a mistake, her struggle doubled. She tried to cry out, choking as the Phantom slammed her back again. Stars filled her vision.
Images of what had happened to Ashley on Mars flashed through her mind. She was trapped, cornered. Her shotgun was pinned between them; she was as likely to shoot her own head off as she was her assailant’s if she fired.
"Garrus! Tali!" she gasped, hoping her comms system wasn't broken. "Help."
"I can't get...shot...hitting you, Shep..." Garrus' voice was muffled and every other word broke off as the delicate comms systems in her helmet took damage.
Jaw aching with how intensely she clenched her teeth she took all the amassed biotic energy she had left and let it loose, Her vision darkened for a moment, lighting-like shocks running up into her temples.
It bought her a moment.
The Phantom was a Cerberus abomination, moving faster than anything ever should. Before Ryn could so much as roll to the side to put more space between them, her back pressed against the metal wall, the Phantom's hands were back on her, fumbling with all their strength. Ryn dropped her gun, grappling with the soldier.
She didn't realize the way the Phantom had skewed her until searing pain ripped through her. Ryn grunted, the shock ripped all the air from her lungs. Faltering, her legs went to jello beneath her as her body rebelled against the sudden sharp agony from somewhere she couldn’t identify.
She’d been punched, hit, shot…stabbed was a new one. And it hurt like a bitch.
Focus, focus, focus! She chanted in her head, gasping. She couldn't make out the chatter going through her comms, it was all static now.
She tried to charge again, only to find nothing left to expend. Fuck.
Chest heaving, she partitioned off all the pain raging through her from seemingly everywhere in her body for later, diving for her gun. She'd have to do with that now.
The Phantom, also heaving for breath now, she realized with some grim satisfaction, caught her, slamming their shoulders together. Ryn careened into the wall with an, "Umph!"
She could make out one word blaring across her comms as she watched the Phantom's helmet explode in red.
Her name.
*
Garrus ran not for his life, but for Ryn's.
Tali sprinted into the communications tower, a drone trailing behind her, to enable it. Once the disruption was gone they could call the Normandy down, or at the very least get back into contact with Cortez to bring the shuttle.
They were lucky their comms between the three of them hadn’t been jammed with only one functioning disruption left. Even if they’d been garbled at best and barely functional the closer they’d come to the tower.
Garrus’ legs ached as he leapt from his vantage point, joints protesting the height. Shouldering his sniper rifle, he sprinted across the open area that had become their battlefield. He dodged the fallen Cerberus soldiers, boosts clanging and slipping against used thermal clips.
Ryn slumped against the wall, a patchwork of blood splatter behind her. The Phantom lay crumpled at her feet. Garrus pushed the body out of his way, dropping to his knees in front of his commander.
A torrent of curses flooded from him as his eyes flitted about for where to look. Guilt roared in his mind, clenching in his chest, at the neat, puckered hole in Ryn’s armor where the Phantom had used her body to block his shot. The shot he’d made with specialty armor piercing ammo Ryn had got him the last time she’d been on the Citadel.
There was no way for him to change the path his clips took midair but...spirits...
He’d shot her.
“Garrus...” Ryn gasped and he couldn’t help the way relief stuttered its way back into his mind at the fact she was still alive and conscious, “Helmet...off.”
“I don’t think...” Garrus began, wracking his mind for all the basic military medical training he had. He was pretty sure removing helmets wasn’t part of standard protocol for any of what was happening. Especially not when he’d watched her get slammed against the wall several times.
��Please.” Ryn coughed, sounding awful, “Can’t stand it.”
There was enough rising, raw panic for him to throw away that barest medical training. Especially as her hands began to tug at it herself, eliciting a cry of pain.
Her helmet was a wreck. It was banged up at the back where the Phantom had slammed her repeatedly into the wall, Garrus noticed as he gently cradled her head to undo the clasps. If she hadn’t been wearing a helmet…now was not the time for what-ifs.
She gave a ragged, sucking breath as he pulled it from her head. Blood coated the lower half of her face in a grisly smear from where it poured from her nose, the corners of her mouth.
Ryn leaned over and spat, red tinged and brutal.
“Bit...tongue.” she explained, as if that was the most pressing and normal issue at the moment. She wiped at her mouth with her forearm, only smearing blood further across her skin.
Garrus caught Tali’s voice with more clarity over his comm; she’d breached the final comms disruption and was hacking into the last lock.
Ryn went rigid in front of him.
“Garrus.” she said with the sort of calm that put him on immediate high alert. All the color had drained from her face, leaving her eyes wide and stark against her pallid skin, “You need to call the Normandy.”
“Tali’s working on it--” Garrus followed Ryn’s hands, body going unnaturally still.
The Phantom had worked a long, black blade between the fibrous parts of her armor and the carbonized plating. It blended into the dark metal of her armor at a first glance.
Ryn’s hands flitted around it, “Suit deploys medigel.” She reasoned with that too-calm voice, “Medigel can’t fix that.”
She hacked again, spitting out another glob of scarlet spit. Her teeth and tongue were stained as she grimaced, hands settling on the blade, “Heh,” she mumbled, “Chakwas is gonna be pissed.”
Garrus gave himself a shake, pulling himself from his own icy shock that had frozen him in place. He forced calmness onto himself, bringing down like a shield.
Her questionably coherent babbling was either a good sign or a bad sign. She talked when she was nervous and trying to keep herself together. And she was talking a lot right now.
His voice stayed shockingly neutral as he said into his comm, “Tali do you have the comm hub back up?”
“Yes,” She was quick to respond, “Systems are coming back online now, why?”
“Get the Normandy or Cortez down here asap. Tell them to have the med bay ready to go.”
The ‘It’s Shepard’ went without saying.
“Vot,” Tali swore harshly and he heard her sharp breath, “Sending now. What’s the timeline?”
Garrus shot a look to Ryn, who was staring back at him with eyes wide as saucers. Sweat drenched her skin, her breathing starting to come sharper and sharper; whether it was from mounting panic or onsetting shock, he wasn’t willing to roll the dice on.
“Urgent.” he decided.
His comm went quiet as Tali switched to paging the Normandy.
Garrus caught at Ryn’s hand as she gave a tug at the blade and yelped, “Do not do that.” he said with a bit more intensity than intended. Ryn dropped her hands back onto her lap, flexing them from open to closed fists.
“The Normandy is on its way. It’s going to be fine.” Garrus kept talking, feeling the weight of Ryn’s eyes on him. He just needed to keep her with him as long as possible.
He began working on the straps to her chest armor, loosening it just enough to give her more room to breathe. The heat radiating off her skin was disjointed with the pallor in her skin.
“I’m already impaled, Vakarian, now’s not the time.” Ryn’s voice was feeble, on the cusp of losing it entirely.
Garrus squeezed his eyes closed, taking a very long breath, “I’m going to give you a pass on that one given the circumstances.”
An eternity seemed to pass before Cortez appeared with the shuttle, hovering as close as he could get.
Ryn grit her teeth and held her breath long enough that the parts of her face visible beneath grime and blood started to go pink as Garrus hauled her as carefully, but quickly, to the shuttle as he dared.
“Breathe, Ryn.” Garrus reminded her, crouching at her side as Cortez started them back to the Normandy.
“Fucking hell.” She wheezed out in response, squeezing her eyes closed with every jostle of the ship. At least the colorful words got her to let out a breath.
He’d take what he could get.
*
“What happened?” Chakwas demanded.
Ryn was still conscious, barely, if the way her eyes rolled around beneath fluttering eyelashes could count as consciousness when he tried to set her down on the medbay’s cot.
Still, she grasped him with surprising strength when he tried to hurry from Chakwas’ way, and it took his distressed mumbled pleas to let Chakwas work and the doctor’s firm tugging to finally get her to let go.
Chakwas gave him a sympathetic glance as she barked at him, “Out, Vakarian, not enough room in here for all of us.”
It was only because he needed to explain what happened that she amended her statement and shoved him deep into the corner by the door. His voice failed him when he explained the shot to Ryn’s shoulder and he cleared his throat, mandibles flaring as he struggled to get the words out.
He’d shot her. Accidentally yes, but guilt raged in his chest in a burning fire, sweeping all of his breath away.
“You can’t change clips mid air.” Chakwas said shortly, “Better her shoulder than anywhere more vital. If that Phantom had moved her any further, it might’ve been her heart or lungs. Leave the what-ifs as what-ifs.”
Harsh, but true. Chakwas directed a glance over her shoulder from where she peeled layers of bloody armor from Ryn, scissors laid on the tray within reach to work Ryn’s under armour away.
“She’s going to be fine.” she added, “Shepard is too tough for her own good.”
It took him a moment to realize he was being dismissed for real this time. He hesitated, rocking his weight. Leaving her felt like inviting the worst to happen. It was every time he’d left her behind that something bad had happened.
He blinked, bringing himself out of the spiraling of his mind and back into the medbay. Blinked at the lights, glinting off the metal all throughout the room, back into focus. Formed Chakwas’ voice back from meaningless noise into words.
“I’m going to stabilize her,” she was saying, “And then we’re going to have a talk. Confidential, between us.”
*
Their “confidential talk” echoed throughout the crew deck. Penetrating the shuttered windows of the medbay and the sealed door as if Ryn was standing in the middle of the deck.
Ryn rarely yelled when it wasn’t to make her voice heard in combat. Especially loud enough for Garrus to hear from the main battery, where he’d sealed himself away to fiddle with calibrations while he retreated deeper and deeper into his mind to parse through what had happened today.
He’d used the shared crew bathrooms to wash Ryn’s blood off of him. Had scrubbed his armor on the stand he kept in the battery. Going into her quarters without her right now felt wrong, as if he was awaiting her judgment on him when she woke up.
She was awake now.
“Find somewhere else to be.” he said sharply to the crowd milling about, eavesdropping on the muffled shouting. When several pairs of eyes just stared at him, he growled, “Out. This is the Commander’s business.”
Respect for their commander broke through morbid curiosity and everyone slinked away, finding somewhere else to be. He probably should’ve done the same thing, but then Chakwas raised her voice louder than he’d ever heard her address Ryn before.
Worse yet, she used her first name. Chakwas never used Ryn’s first name.
“Commander Ryn Shepard you will sit down, shut up, and listen to your medical officer!”
Against his better judgment, he pressed the control pad and the door hissed open.
Ryn sat on the edge of the bed, face flushed a deep red that splotched down her neck. She clutched a crumpled piece of paper in her hand, held so tightly that her fingers were beginning to rip the material. Beneath an Alliance-issued, loose fitted black t-shirt a bandage crept above the neckline from her shoulder.
Her eyes jumped to her, the muscles in her jaw jumping as she clenched her teeth. But something deep in her expression deflated, a light flickering into something bleak, as if she’d been caught doing something she’d never meant for him to see.
Garrus held up his hands under the pressure of her stare, trying to work exactly what it was, and the ire he felt radiating off of Chakwas.
“I just wanted to make sure everything was okay.” he explained, inching back towards the door.
Chakwas shot a look towards Ryn, once again filled with something imperceptible to him, “Want him here?”
Ryn averted her eyes but gave a subtle nod, “Garrus can stay.”
Looking towards the ceiling for a long moment as if collecting herself, Chakwas motioned Garrus in, “Maybe you can calm your commander down.”
He let the door hiss closed behind him, but kept himself pressed against it, the same place he’d relayed today’s events to Chakwas hours ago.
The doctor crossed her arms over her chest, “Do you want to continue?” she sniped, “Perhaps in a quieter tone?”
Ryn grit her teeth, eyes flaring. Her voice was clipped, each word sharper than the last, as she glanced down at the wadded up paper in her hands.
“Did you seriously hand me a fucking psych eval? I’m fine.”
His stomach dropped to the floor at the words alone. The implications.
Though her tone still made Chakwas press her lips together in a thin line, she said, “It’s standard procedure for service personnel who display reckless or careless behavior in the field. What happened out there today was a severe error--”
“It was a mistake. That Phantom caught me off balance--” Ryn started, only to snap her mouth closed as Chakwas held up a hand.
“You know as well as I do that I am not talking about the Phantom.”
Ryn looked at the paper again, smoothing it out across her knees. Her lips twisted, “I’m not trying to…” she broke off and repeated herself instead, “I’m fine.”
Dr. Chakwas looked towards a datapad propped on her desk, the screen crisscrossed with graph lines. “Preliminary data analysis from your suit suggests--”
“That I’m under more stress now than during the Skyllian Blitz.” Ryn finished the sentence with a guttural edge to her voice that Garrus had never heard before. Then her voice got tired, so very tired, “I’ve been told that already.”
Even if that piece of data sent a chilled zap through his mind, conceptualizing exactly how much stress Thessia and this war were putting on her. He hadn’t known her during the Blitz, had only seen the drone footage of her fight on Elysium when he’d first met her and curiously looked into her service history during his days of C-Sec.
This war was hard on everyone, the whole universe falling down around them, but the front she put on, even to him, never revealed just how much it weighed on her. How much was she hiding?
“You put more stress on your implants today than they’re rated for, and that’s the newest tech on the market. Frankly, I’m surprised you weren’t brought back a brainless shell.” Chakwas’ voice had softened, the edge coming off, “Your suit noted higher levels of fatigue, slower reaction times, and dangerous levels of power output from your biotics.”
Ryn remained silent, staring hard off to the side.
Garrus had spent enough time among turians on warships to recognize the signs of a soldier who had checked out. Surprisingly, it stirred a flicker of irritation in him, a similar fire to when he’d but heads with Ryn over her relentless idealism in the days of Saren.
It was one thing to watch her in the field; there wasn’t time to truly worry for her in the heat of battle and he trusted her implicitly as his commander. Something else deeply turian took over him in those moments, the deference to his higher up that had been instilled in him since he was old enough to grasp that concept. In the field they were not Shepard and Vakarian, but a soldier and his commanding officer.
It was quite another thing entirely to meet that cavalier attitude back on the ship, where those dividing lines of rank receded. Quite another to watch her disengage from the dangerous statistics Chakwas shared with her about her well being.
No. Garrus took a quiet, steadying breath, watchful eyes darting across Ryn again. Disregard wasn’t the right word. She may have turned her face away, her body language giving off the air that she wasn’t engaged anymore, but her eyes flicked back towards them. He’d seen that expression before, where her lips tightly pressed together.
Shame.
He blinked, finding Ryn’s eyes fixed on him now. The dark circles beneath them coupled with the intense overhead lights alit them like liquid silver. Her shoulders rose, then fell, and she looked away.
Taking a deep breath, Dr. Chakwas snatched the datapad from her desk and crossed the space to Ryn’s bedside. Held out the datapad and gave it an insistent shake when Ryn just raised an eyebrow.
Ryn shifted her energy back towards them, grabbing the datapad, “What am I looking at?” That deep emptiness had settled into her voice, drained of all the rage that had filled every word mere minutes ago.
Chakwas traced her finger along a graph that Garrus couldn’t quite make out from his position.
“That’s the strain that your current stress levels are putting on the cybernetics that Cerberus used to put you back together.” She explained, “And you are functioning at at least twice the level they are rated for. Project Lazarus’ tech is almost completely unknown, leaving us with only best guesstimates.”
From here he could make out the image mapping all of Ryn’s cybernetics, the leylines of technology that kept her alive. Her eyes were locked on that, her lip curling with disgust. It left a pit in Garrus’ stomach.
Ryn sighed, long and low, “What do you want from me? The Reapers won’t stop just because my body can’t keep up. Planets won’t stop getting destroyed, people won’t stop dying, just so I can sleep.”
“And you can’t keep fighting a war if you're dead.”
His mandibles might as well be locked from how little he was able to find the words, any words, to buck against the cavalier way Ryn spoke about driving herself to the breaking point.
The literal breaking point.
He’d never thought too hard about the cybernetics that kept her ticking. He’d comforted her through bouts of severe disgust and anxiety, where she’d gouged long, red lines from her nails into her skin, swearing she could feel them.
But whenever his own mind had dwelled too hard on the specifics of bringing her back, his own mind threw up an error code, refusing to go any further. While he could listen to Ryn, provide whatever she needed as best he could, digging any deeper into what happened in his own mind may as well have been trying to bend a plate of metal with his own hands.
The closest he’d come to truly conceptualizing what had happened to Ryn had been in Liara’s apartment, staring at the battered remains of Ryn’s armor from the crash. That had pushed him far too close to that gaping hole where her loss had been.
He gave a viscous shake of his head to dispel the rabbit hole he was careening towards, finding Ryn and Chakwas silently staring at each other in a stalemate.
Ryn broke first, sighing and easing herself back. The look she shot Chakwas was exhausted. It seemed to pull down on her face, on the corners of her eyes, the edges of her lips.
“Can I at least go back to my cabin to rest?” She murmured, quiet enough that Chakwas had to step closer to hear, “I’ll sleep better there than on this cot.”
The doctor’s lips pinched together and Ryn made a noise painfully close to a pleading whimper, “Karin, please.”
Chakwas stepped away from the door, gripping the datapad tightly, “Only if you assure that you will be back in here at 0800 sharp for reevaluation or if there are any issues before then.”
The ghost of a smile touched Ryn’s lips, “0800? Letting me sleep in. Fine. ‘Sides, I won’t be alone. Garrus will be with me…” Her eyes slid over to Garrus, brows drawing together, “Maybe?”
He gave a slight nod, a quiet, “Of course I will.” even as his heart gave a painful lurch. As if he’d leave her alone after the day’s events unless she gave him the orders.
*
Karin unloaded Ryn onto Garrus with a series of orders and instructions that went through one ear and out the other. Her head pounded; her brain might as well have been melting out of her skull.
All she knew was that her body felt too heavy to move and that she hurt all over. Every single muscle was shouting displeasure at her. She was pretty sure that Garrus’ hand around her waist was the only thing keeping her on her feet as the motion of the elevator swayed them back and forth, each jolt sending another wave of nauseating aches through her.
The door to her cabin hissed open and she tumbled out of Garrus’ grasp, the allure of her bed far bypassing the pain it took to take more than snail-steps over there. She thunked down onto the mattress in a puff of the black duvet.
She nearly groaned at the soft comfort on it, but ended up biting her tongue to stave off a yelp as she twisted her ailing shoulder, her side barking in discomfort.
Right. Her injuries. She pushed herself up with effort into a sitting position, locking her eyes on Garrus. He lingered by her desk, fingers tapping the glass that partitioned off her model ships.
She motioned for him to come over. He lingered. She turned to roughly patting the bed beside her, “Sit. Please.”
Garrus sat.
Ryn took a steadying breath, shoving her exhaustion to the other side of her mind. She could wait a little longer. Needed to wait longer.
“I’m sorry, for a lot of what happened today.” She scrubbed her hands across her face. Damn she was tired, “I let you and Tali down in the field and fucked the situation up, down, and sideways. And I shouldn’t have said what I did, there in the med bay.”
She watched recognition flash across his face, watch his mandibles flare, before his face dropped back into careful neutrality, “What’s done is done for what happened in the field.”
“But you are, or were, upset with me. I saw it in the med bay. For reasons that I understand but…I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want you to hide those things from me.”
She wanted to curl in on herself, tuck her knees tightly up against her chest, but her body wouldn’t let her. She settled for wrapping her arms around herself, “If I let those things show…what’s that going to say to the rest of the crew?”
“I’m not the rest of the crew.” There was an uncharacteristically intense firmness to Garrus, an unyielding wall of…something that she couldn’t parse out.
She squeezed her eyes closed, “I know. That’s not how I meant it…I just--don’t know how to put this burden on you. I don’t even know what to do with it myself.”
Garrus moved closer and she tentatively leaned against his shoulder. When he slipped his arm around her in silent permission she melted against him. The silence between them softened.
“Thank you for saving my ass today.” She bit back a yawn. Her eyelids might as well be pulled down by leaden weights.
Resting his chin against the top of her head, Garrus’ voice rumbled through her, “I shot you.”
“Because that bitch used me as a shield.”
Garrus breathed a long, slow breath, “You should rest.”
She desperately needed to. Her thoughts were jumbling in her head, slipping through her fingers. But they needed to talk, there were still so many things she had to explain.
As if her thoughts were written across her face, Garrus murmured, “Later. It can wait.”
“But…we’re okay?” She murmured, voice breaking. His kiss to her temple soothed that part of her, terrified about shoveling too much onto him, and she let out a sigh.
“We’re okay.” Garrus assured, “Now please, get some sleep.”
Even getting under the covers felt too big an effort, but with Garrus’ help she shimmied beneath them. When he crawled on top of the covers, datapad in hand, she tucked herself close against his side.
The toll of the day dragged her under, and she just prayed it would be restful.
#captainderyn writes#mass effect#mass effect fanfic#shakarian#femshep#garrus vakarian#shepard/garrus#oc: Ryn Shepard#otp: Keep Me Grounded#I really hope this readmore works#lmk if it doesn't and i'll repost
41 notes
·
View notes
Text
Along for the Ride PT 4
Pairing: KirishimaxF!Reader
Summary: Kirishima is gonna show you all the support that he can in the best way he knows how but when you start getting on yourself, wanting to change for the sake of what others think, that's when the gloves come off.
Contains: Kirishima and Reader both come from very well-off families. Plus-Sized Reader. Fluff. Hurt/Comfort. Angst. Anxiety Break. Kiri gets hard... and I don't mean using his quirk. NB OC.
Warnings: TW: Manipulative Family Relationships. TW: Body Image Issues. TW: Anxiety Problems & Self-Doubt.
A/N: This chapter covers a decent amount and I have been waiting for it! You get a hint of a quirk, a little more family drama, as well as arriving at your destination late at night (or very early in the morning depending on how you look at it). I also HC Kirishima as having two mothers, so there's that and I also gave Reader an NB cousin. Oh... did I mention the only room available at the resort is the penthouse?
Part One | Part Two | Part Three
Tags: @lastroseofspring @black-bhabie-2000 @meadow-arts @sarahschance @otomesunshine- thank you for still being here <3
Word Count: 4,321 (hehe)
Eijiro was preoccupied, playing a card game with Tali and Luce. You'd excused yourself after winning three games in a row, allowing them to have a losers bracket but really it just gave you an out to sneak into the spacious bathroom off the bedroom.
The bottles of developer and dye sat on the edge of the counter beside the small tub of bleach, bowl, and brush you'd packed, towels were laid out everywhere because there was no way in hell you were risking bleach getting on anything in here. You just had to begin but, man, you didn't want to.
You ran your fingers through your hair, letting the light catch the vibrant color that your mother would absolutely hate but you happened just to love. It was such a superficial thing, just hair color, you could always dye it back but, in reality, you just didn't want to get rid of it in the first place.
About four hours remained of your flight. It'd give you enough time to throw on bleach to lighten your hair enough that the brown, the only "normal" hair color you had on hand, would stay. All in all, you should be done with time to spare!
"Ms Y/N?"
Quickly you unclipped the towel from around your neck and shuffled from the bathroom. "There you are! I lost." She pouted, "I'm no good at card games, board games are more my style. I thought I'd check on you while they finished... are you feeling alright?"
She eyed the bathroom that you slinked out of making sure to shut the door behind you. "Oh! Yeah, I'm fine!"
"Are you sure? Was it breakfast? Or are you a nervous flyer? We have medication for that."
"No, Tali, really it's nothing like that!"
Tali lowered her voice, "Does Mr. Kirishima make you nervous?" she asked, her lips curling up in a grin.
"Wha? N-no!" Gods, what were you? Seventeen again and a blubbering idiot when Mina asked you who you liked during a game of spin the frickin' bottle? "No, Kiri and I, we're..." Her giggling didn't help you put words to what you and Eijiro were. "We're really, really good friends. We've been that way for a long time too. I don't have any reason to be nervous around him!"
"Kiri, hm? Between a nickname and what Luce saw last night... and he was going to bring you breakfast in bed, you seem a bit more than just friends."
She was a nosy woman, you could say that with confidence. "I didn't say just friends, I said we're really, really, good friends." Luce narrowed her eyes, obviously unsatisfied with your answer. "Fine, we're really, really good, close, friends. He's one of the best people I know."
"And you two just passionately make out on romantic getaways... as really, really good, close friends?" Oh, for fucks- "Who also sleep together?"
"First off all, we literally just slept together, that's it, so don't go getting that idea. Second, this getaway is anything but romantic. This is going to be an, uh, un-romantic getaway... yeah. Because I'm going to have to deal with an onslaught of family relatives that are going to ask me why I'm not married yet or settling down. Why I'd rather save lives instead of marrying rich and becoming the perfect doting housewife. They're going to pick and poke. How can you be a hero when you look like that," You mocked a specific aunt, "She can never just be normal, is she really related to us?", That time a cousin. And, a final mock of your mother, "I have no idea what I was thinking when I slept with your father. And now I gotta dye my hair too so that's not a topic of conversation. Trust me when I say after this getaway, I'm gonna need another one! A vacation from this non-vacation. One where Eiji can preferably rail me until I forget about all their utter bullshit!" Your chest was heaving when your rant came to an end, hot, angry tears rolling down the balls of your cheeks. Tali staring at you with wide eyes.
"Shit, Tali, I'm so incredibly sorry! You didn't deserve-"
"Can I hug you?"
"Huh?"
"You seem like you need one."
She took a step closer and waited for you to nod before putting her arms around you. Tali hummed as she did so. "I didn't mean to pry, I shouldn't have assumed what you two were doing."
"'S not your fault. 'M sorry I dumped it on you."
"Does Mr. Kirishima know how much this is bothering you?"
You sat on the edge of the bed while she perched on the edge of the chair. "He's very aware-"
"But, ya didn't tell me it was this bad." Eijiro was leaning in the doorway, you weren't sure how long he'd been there, "Tali, can we have a moment?"
She bowed her head and hurried from the room, closing the door behind her. "How much did you hear?"
You let him tilt your head upward towards him before he answered, his thumb whisking away tear tracks, "Enough." Whether that was an answer to your question or a remark in regards to your tears, you were sure.
He maneuvered wordlessly around you, swinging his leg around so he had one on either side of your thighs and his hands settled against your shoulders. Thumbs dug into the spots he knew you carried your tension, finding the knots and slowly working to alleviate the ache.
The rage you built up slowly subsided and your shoulders finally dropped allowing you to lean into his touch.
A breathy moan escaped when he moved low on your scapula and his low chuckle sent you further into relaxation. Eijiro didn't say a single word for almost twenty minutes and when he did, it was to ask if anywhere else hurt. There was no mention of the outburst you'd had or the things that came out of your mouth during it.
You mumbled something about your midback feeling a little tight, "Then lay on your stomach for me." Eijiro waited for you to get situated, arms hanging over the edge of the bed before caging you in between his legs again. You barely felt the weight of him though, he supported himself on his shins while his hands found the tight muscles coiled in your back. Running his hands under your shirt, so very warm while he manipulated your skin with ease.
Eijiro leaned forward, placing his thumbs on either side of your spine, low on your lumbar region, and with just a smidge more pressure than he needed, he pushed them upward. Unimpeded by a pesky bra strap since you had yet to put one on, earning a series of delightful little pops that paired nicely with the little whine you gave him. It was also impossible not to feel his arousal when it brushed over the swell of your ass during the action but you said nothing, drew no attention to it and neither did he. The man settled again, seeming determined to find every bundle of physical stress and rid you of it.
"Did that help at all?" He asked just as your eyes started to slip shut, words warm against the shell of your ear.
"More than you know. You give the best back rubs." Your voice was muffled by the blanket below you but he got the gist of what you meant.
Eijiro plopped down beside you with a sigh and 'you're welcome'. He trailed his fingers along your spine, light enough he sent goosebumps erupting over your skin. The callouses he'd built up over the years scratching your skin ever so slightly.
"'M sorry you heard all that."
"It's nothin' I haven't heard before."
His own eyes were closing even though his hand kept moving.
"Doesn't make it better or right though."
"It doesn't have to be right. Your family is just a pain to deal with, I've known that since we were kids. I can't fuckin' stand how they treat you, don't respect the person you are or the work you do but, that just means I gotta remind you how great you are. Well, me and the rest of our friends. 'Member, they're not the only family you've got." You kept watching him even though his eyes had closed. "I get why you wanna go to this, don't want more bad blood but, they don't deserve you. They're not worth your time or your worries. You're too good for 'em."
When you kissed his cheek he cracked an eye open, a sleepy little grin on his face. "Thanks, Eiji." He nodded easily pulling you to him, slotting his leg between yours as if it was something he'd always done. "Wait, we shouldn't sleep, it'll mess up our sleep schedules really bad when we're there."
"'M not sleepin'. Just restin' my eyes for a bit."
>>><<<
Just resting eyes turned into a two-hour nap and when you woke from it, Eijiro was once again missing from the bed.
Well, shit, you certainly weren't going to have time to dye your hair now. Not after that meltdown and surprise naptime. But, when you pushed open the bathroom door, everything was already picked up. The towels off the floor, bottles no longer on the counter... what the hell?
Your answer came in the form of a bag shaking behind you. Eijiro had reappeared, "Imagine my surprise when I found our bathroom turned into a hair studio." He pulled out the bottle of dye, "Brown? Really? I don't think I've seen you with natural hair color, well, except for when you first came to UA. And that leads me to believe you're doing this because your mother said you should; am I right?"
You folded your arms over your chest. "Maybe. Maybe I just felt like dying it brown because I could."
"Yeah, I don't buy that. You like changing your hair color but you just got it done and you love that color, you haven't stopped talking about it!"
You weren't a convincing enough liar to try and get around it so you just held you position with your mouth shut. "Fine then, if you really want it brown, I'll just keep a hold of this until we get back and you can do-"
"Eiji, wait, no." You tried to pull the bag but he held it out of your reach, "Really, that's not fair."
"What's not fair is your mother asking you to change something about you that you really like. What's she gonna say about mine?"
"You're not her daughter!"
He tossed the bag on the bed and held you up off the ground before you could dive for it. "Stop it! You're being ridiculous, you know that?" You stopped thrashing for a moment to look at him. Gone was his lighthearted tone and grin, Eijiro was completely serious. "'M done messin' around. If you wanna change something about you, you do it for yourself. You don't have to change a thing about you just to make someone else happy. That's so dumb. And your mother wouldn't even be happy about it, she'd be pacified until she finds something else to pick at you about! Don't waste your time changing something you love for her sake!"
You looked down at him, hands on his shoulders, and you knew there was no arguing when Eijiro was pushed this far. Not even Katsuki with his stubborn-as-a-bull personality stood a chance when Eijiro dug his heels in.
And so you relented with a sigh, "Okay."
"Yes, okay. Now can you put me down, please?"
"Well, that depends," He shifted you in his hold, "Are you saying that just so I'll let you go and you can make a break for it?"
You raised a brow at him. "You do realize I could just blink out of this, right?"
"We agreed you using your quirk when traveling at such high speeds is too risky. You wouldn't do that."
Damn it. You were hoping he'd forgotten about that. "What're you gonna do, Eiji? Hold me until we land?"
His own raised brows told you that was not the right thing to say; you gave him a challenge. "Maybe I will." His hands slid down to your thighs, "Not like it'd be hard for me to."
Red Riot, a 2nd-year student at UA, age 17, who'd held up a massive robot some villain had created so a couple his fellow classmates could rescue those trapped underneath.
Red Riot, a sidekick for the Pro Hero Fat Gum, age 20, kept a helicopter on the ground so villains couldn't escape using sheer force while being shot at.
Pro Hero Red Riot, age 24, held up a section of rubble from a collapsed resort during a hurricane just last year for five hours until he and the eleven civilians he protected could be rescued.
Yeah. Holding you for the remaining 90-minutes of the flight would be no problem for Eijiro at all. You were practically the equivalent of a loaf of bread to him, you always have been.
The smile he gave you was cocky but rightfully earned. "Please, Ei." You pouted. "I won't go after the hair dye, I'll keep it as it is right now."
"And you won't change anything about yourself for anyone else but you. Promise me." He stuck his pinky out.
You linked yours to his, "Promise."
>>><<<
The rest of the flight went by quickly and landing was incredibly smooth. For some reason, neither of you seemed to realize you'd be getting in at nearly midnight thanks to time changes and all that.
But, there was still the jeep waiting for you that you requested before you'd even left home. Large enough that it was comfortable for Eijiro and practical enough to drive through the snowy weather that you were sure to face.
Before leaving, Eijiro made a point to coordinate with both Tali and Luce, explaining how if they didn't have anything scheduled, he'd like them to be the stewardesses for the return flight as well; a decent amount of that was by your request. And it was a request that they were happy to fulfill, assuming he fill out the required documents.
"If you're up for driving, I can do the request on the way."
You pulled the seat forward, checked the mirrors, and all the other usual car nonsense. The signs out of the hanger were easy enough to follow, and when you got on the road, you were almost surprised to find you really didn't need your GPS. Memories of the highways and the city itself came back to you quickly, unlike they did last time you were back in America.
The last time was for a job. Undercover work. There was no sightseeing or visiting old haunts about the only thing you did have time for was eating from your favorite fast-food chain. Which, since you were here... "Eiji, are ya hungry?"
He didn't even bother to look up from the phone in his hands, just shot you a look with those crimson eyes. "Yeah. I know. Dumb question." Eijiro could always eat.
He'd offered to drive now that he was done on his phone and you had bags of food to be eaten but you shook your head, "I'm good. Thanks though." So, instead, he settled for setting the food out so it was easier for you to grab. Making sure napkins were in reach while you zipped alone the roads you once knew so well.
The GPS assumed you'd be arriving just after two in the morning if the roads weren't horrible that is but you wouldn't know that until you got closer to the national forest you had to drive through to get to the lodge. Though, when you checked the weather before landing, everything looked pretty mild.
"So, I was meaning to ask, what's our story going into this?"
"What do you mean?"
"Y'know, like, us, what did you tell your mother we are?"
"Oh..." You had to think about it for a moment before realizing, "I never told my mother what we were. I just referred to you as my plus one.
"You didn't call me your boyfriend or anything?"
A smile slid onto your face, "No, I didn't. I didn't want to put you in that kind of a position. I guess I just assumed if we did end up going together I would have just introduced you as my friend because that's what you are, right?"
"Of course! I just know slip-ups can happen and I didn't know if I needed to, well, be boyfriend-like."
You considered pointing out to him how you'd both been toeing that relationship line for the last ten hours but that would lead to discussions and discussions weren't supposed to be had until Sunday. Even if the more you were with him, now that things were in the open, you couldn't deny that him acting boyfriend-like, that you liked it. A lot.
"What if you're my date?"
"I am your date."
"Obviously but, what if we treated it... like a... real date?"
Eijiro shook his head and your heart sank but he quickly put his hand on your thigh. "I'm not going to have our first date, a real date, with you being a nervous wreck and stuck in a place with a bunch of people you can't stand." He was making a lot of sense, "But, I do wanna go out with you. I'd just like to make that very clear. No confusion about that. We can talk about the finer points of that on Sunday though."
Sunday was going to take forever.
Ultimately, it was decided that you'd introduce him to your family as a friend, not wanting to jump any guns, it seemed like the safer option. They already assumed enough things about you, if they wanted to assume there was something more between you and Eijiro, well, let'em.
The moonlight illuminated the road ahead of you, reflecting off the snow that lay upon the trees and mountainside. You were lucky, there was only a slight dusting of snow on the road and the temperature was just above freezing for the time being. Now, if it could just stay that way.
>>><<<
Your family had been coming to the area for years, so you knew it well but this particular resort lodge was new to you, in fact, it looked new in general. Beautiful all the same. The place was ginormous though you didn't have a problem finding the entrance.
Signs led your right to a valet, greeting you warmly with a large smile despite the hour. You handed over the keys along with your information while Eijiro grabbed your belongings.
The inside was just as gorgeous as the exterior, grey stone with beautiful wood accents continued to be the theme inside as well. High ceilings made the place look grand and the crackling fire in the stone fireplace at the center of it all added a sort of welcoming appeal.
You couldn't see anyone at the front desk, not that that was surprising, but there was a bell in view.
"Y/N?"
You whirled around, wondering who in the hell could be up at two in the morning that would know you but the second your eyes fell on them it made complete sense. "No way! It is you!" They sprung up off one of the many leather sofas, the book they'd been reading suddenly abandoned.
You dropped your bag as they launched themselves into your arms. "Auntie said you were coming but I didn't believe her! I'm so glad I was wrong!"
You hugged them tightly, it'd been five years since you'd seen your baby cousin in person even though you spoke to them almost weekly.
"Kirishima, I'd like you to meet one of the two amazing people in my family, this is my little cousin Avery. They're also-"
"Holy crap!" Avery looked over your shoulder right at Eijiro, "You're Red Riot!"
"They've collected about as much information on heroes as Izuku has."
They took you by the shoulders shaking them slightly, "You're dating Red Riot and didn't tell me! I knew you guys were friends but I didn't know he was your boyfriend!"
"Okay, Avey. hang on," You set them back on the ground, "No, no, I, we are not dating."
"Then why's he here?"
"Because he's my plus one."
"So, he's your date?"
"Yes."
"So, you're dating."
Hell, were you this persistent as a preteen? You really couldn't remember but you sure as hell didn't think so!
Meanwhile, Eijiro was trying to stifle a laugh at the third degree you were receiving, leaning down to remind you, "What was that you said about your family thinking what they wanted to?"
"Why are you awake, anyway? Does your mother know you're down here?"
"New medication, it's been making me hyper at night. And yeah, she knows, she needed her beauty rest though and me flicking my pages was making that, 'utterly impossible!'" They dramatically flung their arm over their eyes for effect, faking a faint.
"Ah. I see it runs in the family." Eijiro chuckled, poking at your own flair for mockery of your relatives.
You pulled Avery out of their backbend. "I'm afraid I might be guilty of teaching them a bad habit or two."
Avery hugged your waist. "You taught me how to handle them so I wouldn't rip my hair out of my skull. She got me into counseling too, set up online meetings for me before mom let me go. Y/N is the best cousin I could ask for. You should know how lucky you are to have her as a girlfriend."
"She's not my girlfriend." Eijiro corrected with a grin and Avery looked disappointed that he didn't walk into their trap, get him to admit it rather than you. "She is pretty great though, I'll give ya that."
"Do you want me to stay up with you?"
They shook their head, "No thanks! I know what to do if anyone tries taking me."
Eijiro raised a concerned brow. "Avery's sister was kidnapped during their father's court case and held for ransom as a child, twice. Therefore Avery had to learn from a very young age how to defend themselves, isn't that right?"
Your cousin got a wicked grin, "Wanna see?"
"Not inside," You scolded, "I know neither of us really want to be here but we shouldn't go getting kicked out."
Reluctantly, Avery agreed. They stood by you and Eijiro while you checked in. You needed to get a room for the night since your mother didn't expect you until tomorrow. "I'm sorry," The attendant said while typing away, "Because of a convention and two weddings, I only have the penthouse available this evening. I assure you, you both will have rooms for tomorrow though and there are other resorts in the area if you'd like me to call..."
"The penthouse sounds great." Eijiro slid a card across the counter to her.
"Oh! Fantastic! I'll just need your- wait," It happened less frequently in other countries but sometimes he was still noticed, much like Avery had done, "Kirishima? Are you related Hisa?"
"I am, she's one of my mothers."
The woman smiled. "I met your her when she came to see the project after it was completed. Such a lovely woman! How great it is her son is staying at one of the resorts she designed!"
You shot Eijiro a look but he just gave the smallest of shrugs. "Well, I do hope you enjoy your stay and please, let us know if there's anything we can do to make it more enjoyable. The code for the penthouse is written just above where your room keys are. You'll need to put the key in the elevator and then enter the code"
"Can I come up and see it tomorrow!" Avery was practically bouncing in the elevator.
"Why not now?" Eijiro grinned while you just stared at him punching in the code and ushering Avery out of the elevator when the doors opened "After you."
"I didn't even know so don't give me that look." He told you when they were out of earshot. "Mom told me she had a couple projects in America when I mentioned maybe going with you but I didn't think anything of it. She's done projects all over the world, I kinda just glaze over them now."
Honestly, it really shouldn't surprise you at this point.
"This is better than the stupid honeymoon suite!" Avery ran by the hallway again. "Caro is gonna be so mad! HA! She didn't even wanna look at the penthouse because there was no way it could be better than the honeymoon suite! She was so wrong!"
Now, you had no idea what the honeymoon suite looked like but this... this penthouse, wow. Just the living room was bigger than your apartment! It had a full kitchen with marble countertops. Long leather sofas with big knitted blankets and some of the fluffiest pillows you've seen in your life. Natural wood furniture made up the end and coffee tables as well as the mantel of the fireplace above which hung a massive television.
Two high back chairs covered in royal blue fabric faced a patio with a... hot tub? Yeah, yeah it wasn't enough that your balcony had a gorgeous view of the mountains. It also had a very inviting hot tub, as well as a patio set that you would happily enjoy if it wasn't so cold.
"Your mother doesn't hold back, does she?"
"You've been to my house. What do you think?"
Eijiro wandered, calling out that he found a game room and a spare bedroom but it was the giggling that had you both racing up to the loft above. He pushed open the door to the master bedroom and while Eijiro stopped to gawk at the massive bed, you followed the laughter into the bathroom.
Inside the jacuzzi tub laid your cousin, "I can fit like five of me in here! Who needs a bathtub this big!" Eijiro walked in, "Well, he might, I guess."
#mha#mha x reader#mha x y/n#bnha#bnha x reader#bnha x y/n#kirishima#eijiro kirishima#kirishima x reader#kirishima x y/n#kirishima smut#in one of the chapters#kirishima fluff#in all the chapters!
248 notes
·
View notes
Text
me & you ⤑ jhs | m.
⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦:〝 your relationship with your best friend has always been strange - especially since you started as friends with benefits. 〞best friends to lovers au.
❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: hoseok x reader
❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: light angst ⋆ fluff ⋆ smut
❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 6.5k
⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: soft dom!hoseok, sub!reader, softcore porn, anal fingering, anal sex, but like its not kinky, just v sof, unprotected sex, anal creampie, mentions to ass to pussy, AGAIN ITS ALL SOFCORE PORN OKAY but don’t fucking do that irl use a damn condom this is fantasy not real life okay
➵ 𝑎/𝑛: god i’m really out here wildin and writing softcore anal porn in one day? damn someone come stop me
⏤ happy belated birthday to @readyplayerhobi,, miss tali i love you lots and this bff!hobi fic is what you deserve
Large beams of sunlight stream in through the open door of your cramped, rooftop apartment. The radiant rays illuminate the small space of your front room - chiffon curtains lightly billowing in the wind. A light shiver runs across your spine and goosebumps prickle at your skin. Sitting on the floor of your front room, you stare at Hoseok - taking in the complete almost intangible sight of him.
Lounging lazily, his back pressed against the sofa’s edge - your best friend hums softly to himself: indolently flicking through the pages of his book. He’s a picture-perfect view of ease - his muscles completely relaxed and eyes idly flittering over the pages of his book. Long fingers delicately support the spine - his grip gentle: as if applying any more pressure would cause it to fall to pieces. Occasionally, he lifts his other hand and turns the page.
The motion shouldn’t be so captivating. It’s a simple gesture - turning the page of a book. Yet, the way Hoseok’s graceful fingers flit down the side of the page before curling around a corner and flipping the page, has you completely spellbound. His fingers move elegantly, and you can’t help the way your eyes follow them - gaze fixated on the slender, pretty digits.
Suddenly, Hoseok shifts to a different position. Knees drawn up to his chest, he rests his elbows against the kneecaps as he pulls the book closer to his face. The faded couch behind him silhouettes his figure - drawing attention to his slender body. Dressed in a pastel blue baggy shirt, and loose-fitting grey slacks, he’s the epitome of comfort. Though, somehow, he still looks utterly ethereal. His russet-red hair ruffles in the wind, his heart-shape lips pulled into a slight pout - dimples teasing at the corners - as he focuses on his book.
Breath hitching in your throat, you struggle to breathe. Hoseok is beautiful - you have absolutely no doubts about that. Nor do you have any doubts about the almost overpowering swell of emotions you feel whenever you see him. Butterflies bloom in the pits of your stomach at the sheer sight of him, and the sound of his dulcet voice ringing through the air never fails to cause your heart to lurch.
You and Hoseok have been best friends for almost seven years now - but you’ve never had the most conventional relationship. No - because best friends usually don’t sleep with each other when they feel like it. But you and Hoseok do.
Or at least you used to.
Best friends don’t know incredibly intimate details of your sex life. But you and Hoseok do. You know what he sounds like in bed: the sweet, sinful noises he makes in the midst of pleasure. You know the feel of his hands over your naked flesh: his hands splayed across your back as he pulls you flush against his body. You know the way his cock feels inside you: pulsing synchronously with your own walls as he fills you up with his cum.
The two of you may no longer sleep together - that had long since faded after you’d graduated - but that doesn’t mean you don’t know - or that you don’t remember.
Had you started conventionally, of course, you’d never have known Hoseok intimately. However - when the two of you had met, it had been in the first year of college - in a dingy bar frequented by the broke students of your university. In a mess of drunken limbs, you’d fallen into bed together that night. And the night after that. And the next. It had started as just a simple release - no strings attached and just a way to burn off the stress of college. But eventually - it had started becoming more.
Stressful nights filled with hands grasping for a quick release had turned into early morning study brunches together. Drunken Saturdays filled with frenzied, sloppy touches turned into late afternoon Sundays lying in bed. Spontaneous evenings filled with needy kisses and wandering hands turned into late-night pillow talks. At some point in your casual relationship - you’d stopped going home after your little rendezvous - and you’d begun sleeping over.
Then had come the pillow talk. Tongue loosed by your orgasms - Hoseok would pull you close into his body, and you would sigh at the tacky feel of his sweat-soaked skin against your own. But it wouldn’t matter - because he’d soothingly rub your back, and you’d trace your name in his skin over and over again. And you’d talk - talk about everything and nothing at the same time. Sometimes, you’d talk about your dreams for the future - and sometimes you’d playfully argue about which Disney Princess would win in a fight. But sure enough, through those late-night pillow talks, the two of you had developed an unlikely, somewhat strange, friendship.
You’d gone from simply fucking and crying each other’s names, to talking about your lives, your past and your hopes. Out of all your friends, Hoseok knows the most about you. He knows your favourite brand of chocolate - stashing some of it in your secret pile of sweets during your period. He knows the names of every one of your plush toys and pets from childhood - and the order of which ones are your most favourite to your least. He knows that some nights, you like to be left alone; dissociating from the stress of work and life as you retreat into your self to recuperate.
In fact, there is very little that Hoseok doesn’t know about you.
If you’re being honest, you can count the things he doesn’t know about you on one hand. He doesn’t know that his smile is your favourite thing in the entire world: you’re sure he could light up the entirety of Seoul with you. You know he definitely lights up your world with it. He doesn’t know that his tender touches are the one thing that can calm you down without failure - or that when you’re most stressed, you wish for nothing more than his arms around you while he whispers everything will be alright. But most importantly, he doesn’t know that somewhere in the seven years that you’ve known him, you’ve completely and utterly fallen in love with him.
After you’d graduated, almost three and a half years ago now, you and Hoseok had stopped sleeping with each other. Mainly because you’d found yourself getting into a serious relationship. Hence, you’d ended it with Hoseok - and your relationship had fallen into one of just friendship. Of course, that serious relationship had failed after about six months - and you’d never admit it to him, but it was due to Hoseok himself. When your boyfriend, Juhwan, had found out that you’d been sleeping with Hoseok, he’d freaked out and demanded you choose between the two.
When he’d presented you with the choice, you’d been shocked. Hoseok had been a constant in your life for four years by then. So you’d made your choice. A very easy choice. Aided by the fact that not only were you bored and listless in your relationship with Juhwan, but that he’d also tried to remove Hoseok from your life. So, you chose Hoseok. You’d always choose Hoseok. Of course, it was probably your own downfall that caused the bitter end to the relationship. Completely accustomed to your odd relationship with Hoseok, you had compared Juhwan to your best friend - craving the spark of connection and intimacy that you feel for Hoseok with someone else.
In the years after Juhwan, you’d tried to date again - but none of them compared to Hoseok. None of them smiled the same as him, or had his humour, or made you feel at ease like he did. So, for years now, you’ve simply settled for being Hoseok’s best friend. There’s still traces of your former intimacy; in the way his hand instinctively falls to the small of your back as he leads you around, the way the two of you snuggle on the sofa while watching Netflix: Hoseok’s hand resting just above your ass, your body laying on top of him - or even in the way he’ll buy you flowers ‘just because’ and kiss your forehead.
Just like that, with simple - what should have been platonic - gestures, you’d fallen headfirst for your best friend. Between the warm smiles on coffee dates, lazy strolls through the parks, and the way he’d playfully smile at you and call your name - as if it belonged to him; you’d lost your heart on him.
You couldn’t help it. Nor do you regret it.
Utterly magnetised to your best friend, you want nothing more than to wrap your arms around him, press your mouth to his and drown every one of your senses in him. A part of you wonders if Hoseok feels the same way - whether he yearns for you as much as you yearn for him. Drawn out of your musings, you hear Hoseok’s phone vibrate on the low coffee. Placing his book down, Hoseok picks up his phone before unlocking it with a swipe. After his lips twist in amusement, he lets out a tinkling, raucous laugh. Eyebrows shooting into your hairline, you cock your head in question.
“What happened?” you ask, your head tilting to the side.
With another boisterous laugh, Hoseok’s eyes glance up from the screen. Eyes twinkling with mirth, “Namjoon and his girlfriend tried to have anal sex - but the moment he entered her ass he came,” Hoseok guffaws. His words only have you scoffing.
“Pretty bold of her - I’ve heard stories about his cock. I wonder if it’s as big as they say it is?” you ruminate distractedly. Preoccupied with your own thought, you don’t see the way Hoseok’s eyes soften, a slight twinge of despair ebbing through them. However, as quick as it starts, it fades away and he turns back to his phone. “I wonder what it feels like,” you continue musing out loud.
“Namjoon’s cock?” Hoseok chokes out, looking at you with wide eyes. Sending him a playful disdainful glare, you snort.
“No - anal sex,” you reply - as if it were the most obvious answer. Had this been a conversation with someone else - anyone else - you’d be uncomfortable and shy. But it’s Hoseok - and you’d always been open with him.
“Wait, you’ve never had anal sex?” Hoseok’s incredulous voice breaks the air.
Humming softly, you shake your head. Then, with a shrug, “I haven’t really had anyone I trust enough to do it with,” you reply.
“Do you want it?” Hoseok asks - his voice turning breathy.
With a soft laugh, “why are you offering?” you tease. Your words are meant to be playful, but seeing the heavy sincerity in Hoseok’s eyes, you pause.
“Yes. I am,” Hoseok replies, his voice completely serious.
“W-wait what?” you ask, your mind suddenly swimming with haziness.
“I mean it. It’s not like we haven’t fucked before - and you do trust me, don’t you?” he asks - then with a pause - “But it’s completely up to you,” Hoseok finishes. You swallow audibly, your throat constricting. Would this be a bad idea? It’s been so long since you’ve felt Hoseok’s naked body against your own. But things are different now - you hadn’t been in love with him then - you are in love with him now. Would you be able to survive feeling him inside you - so intimately - only to lose him again? You have no idea.
Despite your reluctance, however, “yes,” your mouth automatically agrees. Consequences be damned - you’ll deal with heartbreak later. Right now, you have to opportunity to have Hoseok again - to feel his naked skin against your own as you drown in all that is him. You’d be damned if you lost this opportunity.
“I- are you sure?” Hoseok asks. His warm eyes stare at you in question; you know him well enough to know he’s giving you an out. But you don’t need one. You’re sure of this - as sure as the love you feel for him. Even if it’s just one last time, you need to feel him inside you.
Eyes steeling with resolution, “yes,” you reply once again. Sucking in a sharp breath, Hoseok nods. Then, he’s getting up. He holds his hand out to you and you place your own in his palm before you allow him to lead you to his bedroom.
Stepping past the threshold of his bedroom you feel the heat rise by several degrees. Carefully, Hoseok guides you towards his bed. This streams of sunlight bath his bedroom - lighting up every inch and corner. There’s not a hint of shadow or darkness, and suddenly you feel a little selfconscious. Without any cover, you’ll be completely exposed to him - unable to hide any flaw on your body. Suddenly, you feel your stomach twist in nervousness, and momentarily, you wonder if this was a mistake.
Hesitancy thickening in the air around you, Hoseok’s in front of you in a flash. Your eyes widen at the sudden movement and you let out a short gasp. He’s incredibly close to you now - his face only a hair’s breadth away from yours. Swallowing thickly, you look up at him through the thick of your eyelashes. With deliberate movements, Hoseok’s hand moves to cup your face - and delicately strokes his thumb across your cheek.
His actions comfort you - the tension in your shoulder dissipating under his tender touch. Boring into you with his warm gaze, Hoseok dips his head down. His lips hover over your own - so close that you can almost feel his mouth - almost taste him. Heart-shaped lips ghosting over yours, “It’s alright. I’ve got you,” Hoseok mutters.
Then, his lips are descending onto yours. You gasp against his mouth. It’s been so long since you’ve tasted him - felt his mouth move against yours - that you’ve forgotten what he tastes like. Not anymore, though. As he licks your lips, the saccharine flavour of his tongue coats your lips; and with another gasp, your mouth parts open. Lethargically, he presses his tongue between your teeth - the wet appendage massaging and gliding over your own.
Lost in the intoxicating sweetness of Hoseok’s tongue against your own - you barely register the way he undresses you. Briefly, he breaks your kiss - a soft whine of protest slipping from your lips - as he sheds you off your top. Then, pressing his lips back against you, his hands caress down the curves of your sides and along your abdomen before he deftly unbuttons your jeans.
Aiding his movements, you step out of your jeans - leaving most of your body exposed. The crisp air causes you to shiver, Hoseok’s hands reverently falling to your hips as he pulls you closer. Head dropping to your neck, his hands curl around your pelvis before cupping your ass. When he squeezes the fleshy cheeks of your behind, you gasp. However, he doesn’t stop there. Fingers delving under the waistband of your underwear, he spreads your ass with one hand - the fingertips of the other brushing against your dewy slit.
A low groan resounds through the air, Hoseok’s chest rumbling against yours, “You’re already wet. God, I forgot how responsive you are,” he rasps. His warm breath fans over the naked flesh of your shoulder, and over your back, causing the hair at the nape of your back to stand on end.
“H-Hoseok,” you stammer out, your head nuzzling deeper into the crook of his neck when you feel him lightly trace the outline of your folds.
“What do you want, Petal?” Hoseok questions. The sound of the familiar pet name causes your heart to clench. Vividly, you remember the way he used to call you Petal, his fingers ghosting over your clit as he brought you to climax. Though, this time it’s different. Before, whenever he called you Petal, the pet name would drip with desire and dominance. Now, however, it’s filled with tenderness - his soft voice causing your chest to cave from the weight of the emotions that well up inside you.
The muscles of your throat tighten, and simultaneously, your tongue ties as you try to force the words out. “You. I want you,” you choke out. There’s more truth to them than he knows - than he’ll probably ever know. The magnitude of your words ring heavy in the air, the atmosphere shifting slightly. Hoseok hums in approval from above you, his finger still tracing teasing circles over your folds.
“Where?” he murmurs. Taking a deep, shuddering inhale, your heart races. Everywhere - is the first thought that springs to your mind. You want to feel him everywhere: feel yourself drown in his embrace, inhale the intoxicating scent of earth and spice that wafts around him, taste the sweetness that is his essence. You want to sink into everything that makes up the entirety of Hoseok’s being. But the confession sits heavy at the back of your throat, the words turning to ash in your mouth as you feel your tongue dry.
Instead, “I-In my a-ass,” you stutter out. Choking out the words, you feel your ears heat - your flesh searing in embarrassment. You know he can feel your mortification - he’s the only one who can read you like a book - but rather than pointing it out, he places a soothing kiss to the edge of your shoulder.
Drawing away from you, “get on the bed,” he urges.
On shaky limbs, you do as he says. Falling to the bed with a bounce, you shuffle backwards. You watch him slowly shed his own clothes, until he’s dressed in nothing but his boxers. Trepidation and want pools in the pit of your abdomen, your stomach twisting as you watch him slowly approach you once. Momentarily, he stops at his bedside table, and opening the mahogany draw, he begins rummaging around in it. Time moves slowly - the seconds ticking by at what feels like an excruciating phase as he searches through his bedside table.
Finally, he finds what he’s looking for. When he pulls out the small bottle of lube, your stomach flips. Crawling back onto the bed, he comes to a halt in front of you. Knees pressed to the bed, he leans back on the backs of his heels before gesturing to your with the wave of his hand. “On your hands and knees, Petal,” Hoseok commands softly. The light domineering tone is reminiscent of the way he used to beckon you to your knees - but again, this time, it’s different. His command is softer - and you simply can’t decipher the underlying current of tenderness clinging to his tone.
Nonetheless, you slowly flip yourself over. Bearing your ass to him, Hoseok dips forward and presses a soothing kiss to the base of your spine. You feel his fingers curl around the waistband of your underwear before he peels the article of clothing off of you. A soft sough drops from your lips when you feel the damp fabric pull away from your folds before he slides it down your thighs. Lifting your legs, you aid Hoseok in divesting you of your underwear. When he’s done, he turns back to your sex, and you bite your lip when you feel his dark gaze on your folds.
In this position, you’re bared completely for him - nothing hidden from him. Under his heavy stare, you feel yourself grow self-conscious once again. Curling into yourself, you bury your face into his pillow before taking deep breaths. The scent of earth and spice fills your senses, the calming scent soothing you instantly. From behind you, Hoseok drags his soft lips against the fleshy globes of your ass, before he presses two tender kisses to each cheek.
“Relax, Petal, I’ll take care of you,” Hoseok mumbles. His warm breath ghosts over the seam of your ass, the muscles of your thigh twitching in response. Taking another deep breath, you pull yourself together before nodding to him.
“What’s your safeword?” Hoseok asks and another wave of nostalgia hits you.
“Butterscotch,” you breathe out. Hoseok freezes behind you, his face crumpling as he hears the word.
“Still?”
You bite your lip at the light disbelief in his voice.
Butterscotch had been the safeword he’d chosen for you - because you’d consumed an unhealthy amount of it during your university years. Butterscotch reminded Hoseok of you - of the days you used to suck at the caramel sweets and drive him mad with lust: wishing you’d suck at his cock the same way. For you, however, butterscotch reminds you wholly of Hoseok; and the way he’d sweetly call your name when you came undone above him. And even now, years after him, and long since you’ve had him in your bed, butterscotch remains your safeword - the security blanket you’d never really been able to let go of.
“Still,” you reply, echoing his sentiment. Hoseok takes a couple of moments to let your words wash over him. Fruitlessly, he tries to figure out what it means; figure out why still, after all this time, you’d kept the same safe word. But he can’t make anything of it. So instead, he presses another sweet kiss to your skin.
“Okay. Say ‘Butterscotch’ if it gets too much, alright, Sweetness?” Hoseok breathes out. Sweetness. That’s a new one - you haven’t heard him call you that before. Sweetness; you repeat in your head. Over and over you play the name in your head, until it’s all you can hear: until you’re drowning in it.
Abruptly, you feel a cold liquid drip over the seam of your ass. Pulled back to reality, you buck your hips and hiss at the sensation. Hoseok pays you no mind, instead, dripping more of the lube over your twitching asshole. The click of the cap resounds through the still air and then silence. He’s incredibly still behind you, and you have to resist the urge to turn around and look at him. You have no idea what he’s waiting for - but the pause only has you growing tense again.
Without warning, he presses a finger against the rim of your ass. You groan, your thighs quivering when you feel him softly trace the outline of your puckered hole. His touch is gentle - reverent - as he traces your back entrance. The slim finger barely ghosts over your flesh, his finger moving in feathery circles. He’s barely doing anything, yet heat begins prickling along your spine. Just the soft strokes of his fingers has pleasure rippling through you, and briefly, you wonder what it would feel like to have him actually inside you.
Though, you don’t have to wonder long - because the next thing you know, Hoseok is applying pressure to your asshole. Under the force of his lubricated finger, your ass slowly opens up for him. Simultaneously, the two of you hiss: you in the odd pleasantness of your ass opening up around his slim finger; and Hoseok in incredulity as the hot tightness of your ass muscles squeeze his fingers.
“Fuck, that’s tight,” Hoseok mutters. Experimentally, he wriggles his finger inside you, causing a cry to tear through your throat. It’s definitely a strange sense of fullness - but you can’t deny the sheer undercurrent pleasure that tremors through you.
“M-More,” you choke out, softly bucking against his hand.
A deep exhale, “Fuck- okay,” Hoseok rasps out. You feel another squirt of lube against your ass, the puckered rim twitching as the cold feeling. Slowly, Hoseok begins thrusting his finger into you, gradually opening up your muscles for him.
Low keening whimpers emanate from your throat, wetness flooding your sex as you feel his finger plunge leisurely inside you. Hoseok moves with deliberate motions, his lips ghosting over your ass in soothing butterfly kisses. “Are you okay? Speak to me, Petal,” Hoseok urges, picking up the pace slightly.
Head spinning with pleasure, you hazily register his words, “G-good. It feels good. Hobi- please, more,” you reply with a strangled moan.
At your behest, Hoseok presses a second finger into you. You feel the tight ring of muscles stretch for him. Discomfort stings at your ass, the slight ache making you wince. Hoseok mumbles an apology, peppering another kiss to the base of your spine. Even as he does that, however, he continues pushing the second finger into you. Once it’s knuckle deep, he stills - letting you grow used to the sensation.
“How’s that?” he asks. Shaking your head, you try to clear your head. Your mouth is dry, throat completely parched. Hands aching, you unclench them from the sheets - when had the happened?
“It’s alright. Just- just give me a moment,” you breathe out. Hoseok nods behind you. You both stay like that for long moments - the internal muscles of your ass twitching every now and then. When you grow accustomed to the stretch, you experimentally clench around his fingers. You cry out in pleasure when your ass squeezes his digits, a low thrum of bliss swirling in your stomach.
“Okay, y-you can move,” you stammer out. With your permission, Hoseok begins thrusting his fingers into you once again. With every plunge of the dainty appendages, your stomach twists and tightens. Muscles of your thighs quivering, you lose yourself in the pleasure of Hoseok’s fingers stretching your ass out.
Foreignness of it all fading away, you’re left with nothing but utter, blissful rapture. A third finger teases at your entrance - and this time, when Hoseok pushes it into you - the muscles of your ass are relaxed - and you easily accept the third digit. The stretch feels euphoric, and sinking further into unadulterated intoxication, you push your ass against him.
Deliberately, Hoseok plunges his fingers into you - his eyes trained on the way your ass swallows his digits. Lube slicks his appendages, the slippery fingers coating your internal muscles in the slick lubrication. Within the confines of his boxers, his cock strains, pulsating with need as he continues fucking his fingers into your ass. His throat constricting, he spreads all three fingers inside you: in a scissoring motion, as he stretches you out further.
The sudden action has you crying out, your back contorting in euphoric elation. Hoseok lets out a deep shudder at the sight - once tense with nervousness, your shoulders are completely relaxed now - you’re ass pushing back against his digits. Once again, he spreads his fingers - trying to spread you out as much as possible for his cock. The stretch has your rolling back once again, your pussy clenching around nothing as you drip onto his sheets.
“Want you. Fuck- Hoseok I want your cock,” you slur out, your hips picking up the pace as you try to fuck his fingers deeper into you.
“I need to stretch you out more or-” Hoseok tries to argue. However, fists gripping the sheets harder, you shake your head.
“I’m ready! Please, I just wanna feel your cock. Please,” you plead. Hoseok waivers for a brief moment, but the desperation in your voice, paired with his own aching cock, has him giving in.
Retreating his fingers from your ass, he grabs the bottle of lube again. You hear him uncap the contained before squirting some on his cock. Slick sounds of his palm rubbing over his cock fill the air as he preps his cock for your ass. However, when he presses the head against your asshole, you twist your hand back and stop him.
“What’s wrong? Do we need to stop?” Hoseok asks. Quickly, you shake your head before flipping yourself onto your back. Hoseok’s eyes widen at your new position. “What-” he begins, only to have you cut him off.
“I want to see you,” you breathe out. Eyebrows furrowing, Hoseok looks at you in concern.
“It’ll be more comfortable on your knees,” he tries to reason. However, steadfast and resilient, you shake your head.
“I want to see you,” you whisper again. This time, there’s a heavy undercurrent of emotion lacing through your voice. Large imploring eyes staring at him, you plead for him to give into you, and completely captivated by you, Hoseok knows he can’t deny you. There’s very little he could refute when it comes to you. You may not know it, but there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to see you happy.
Nodding in surrender, Hoseok helps manoeuvre your legs so your ass is spread for him. Legs bent at the knee, he presses them against your chest. The muscles strain, pulling taut at the new positioning. Nonetheless, you ignore the slight discomfort - far too wired by the thought of Hoseok’s cock in your ass.
Shuffling between your thighs, Hoseok presses the weepy head of his lubed cock against your slick asshole. Then, he slowly begins thrusting into you. Feeling the blunt head of his cock slowly enter your ass - stretching the tight ring of muscles - you suck in a deep breath. His girth is thinner than the width of his three fingers, and aided by the slipper lubrication, he slides in fairly easy.
However - Hoseok’s cock is much longer than his fingers - and soon you feel discomfort deep within your stomach. Wincing, you feel his cock spread open the untouched territory of your ass, the blunt head spearing you open for him. Through it all, you stare up at him - watching the way he sucks in deep breaths, his face twisting in pleasure as the hot muscles of your asshole rhythmically pulsate around you.
Eyes fixated on him, you take him in. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him like this - naked and fucked out: all for you. Sinewy muscles ripple under taut, caramel skin - his flesh glistening with a light sheen of perspiration. Bathed in sunlight, he glows from above you - shimmering in the amber rays as if he were some ethereal being sent by the heavens themselves. Your throat constricts and you feel your heart clench once again.
With his cock deep inside your ass, you don’t think you’ve ever felt more connected to him than you do right now. Hoseok feeds the last inch of his cock inside you, his hips pressing against the fleshy cheeks of your ass. When you feel your ass swallow the last inch of his shaft, you cry out in pleasure. Heavy lids beckon you to shut them, but you refuse. You want to savour this moment. Right here, right now, you want to remember everything.
Eyes raking over him - you ingrain this one memory into the back of your head. The way the corded muscles of his arm twitch, braced on either side of you. Deep chocolate eyes staring at you, his warm obs half-lidded and fluttering as he tries his best to hold still and not fuck into you. How the muscles of his abdomen ripple under his skin as his cock pulsates inside you, synchronous to the way your ass contracts around his shaft. All of it. You commit it all to your memory - because if this is the last time you have him in your bed, and inside you, you never want to forget it.
Tears pool in your eyes, but you blink them away. Seeing them, Hoseok bends over and presses gentle kisses to your lids, hushing you softly. You have no doubt that he thinks it’s due to his cock in your ass - but it’s not. It’s so much more than that. It’s the feeling of fullness, of wholeness, as you feel him deep inside your stomach. It’s the way your hurt aches looking at him - wishing he was yours for the rest of your lifetime. It’s the way you’re completely in love with him - your best friend - the only constant in your life these past few years.
“Are you okay?” Hoseok whispers, his nose brushing against yours. You close your eyes at the tender action. A part of you wishes he wasn’t so sweet - that he wasn’t so… Hoseok - just so that this would be a little less overwhelming - so your feelings wouldn’t be so overpowering. But he is sweet, and he is Hoseok, and you’re so desperately in love with him that you wish to feel him deeper into you.
A deep shuddering breath exhales from your nose, “I’ve never been better. Please move. I want to feel you,” you reply. You’ve never spoken truer words - because despite the staggering weight of emotions you feel for him, you haven’t been better and you do want to feel him - entirely and absolutely.
At your words, Hoseok slowly moves his cock - retreating it out of you before thrusting back in. Each plunge has his cock dragging against your inner ass muscles, the ridged veins of his shaft only adding to your pleasure. Slowly, Hoseok begins thrusting into you - his hips snapping against your fleshy cheeks with every plunge. He doesn’t move quickly - keeping his pace slow and mind-numbing - but he moves deep, his cock burying to the hilt with every movement.
White-hot pleasure begins racing through you, your veins searing in pleasure. Every time his cock impales you, you’re pushed closer and closer to the precipice of your orgasm. Hoseok senses your impending orgasms, the hot muscles of your ass erratically clenching around his cock; subsequently, your pussy clenches around nothing - dribbling your wetness over the seam of your ass: only adding to the lubrication.
“Are you cumming, Sweetness?” Hoseok asks. He dips further down, his torso pressing against your shins. The weight of his body against your legs forces your limbs further against your chest and you groan in pleasure. Impossibly, the change in angle has him hitting deeper inside you - so deep you feel him within the back of your stomach.
“P-Please,” you stutter out. Rapturous ecstasy flits through you, teasing and taunting at your being as you feel yourself teeter towards the brink of your orgasm.
One hand twists between your body, and suddenly, you feel Hoseok’s fingers against your pussy. Your eyes snap wide open, coming face to face with dark coffee eyes. Hoseok’s fingers thrum against your pulsating, engorged bud - working the bundle of nerves with his deft digits. “Cum, ____. Cum for me,” Hoseok urges.
The soft command, paired with the way he still relentless drags his cock in and out of your ass, and his fingers dancing across your clit, has you careening off of the edge and straight into pleasure. Back twisting off the bed, your head falls back as you cry out. Thighs trembling, you feel elated bliss course through your veins; a rush of euphoria searing across your skin as you cum.
From above you, Hoseok lets out a grunt. Your pussy clenches around nothing - but he can feel the force on the contractions mirrored in the muscles of your ass. His pace turning erratic, he thrusts a few more times inside you. When his balls tighten, he pushes as deep into your ass as he can. Cock swelling inside you, you cry out when he spills his cum inside you. Rope after rope of thick, warm cum fills you up - coating your internal walls and bathing you in his seed.
Euphoria blitzing through him, Hoseok’s tongue loosens from his own mind-numbing pleasure and you hear him slur something out. Despite the haze fog that clouds your mind, his words register as clear as day in your mind and you find yourself grounded to reality instantly.
With wide eyes, your gaze flits over him - looking at him in a mixture of utter disbelief and hope. You watch as he heaves for air from above you, in a bid to satiate the burn in his lungs. Once he’s pulled himself together, his eyes open and you once again meet warm umber eyes. Seeing your mouth open wide, shock apparent on your face, Hoseok’s eyebrows twist into confusion.
“Did you mean it?” you whisper. Your question only has his brows knitting further together.
“Mean what?” he rasps out. Despair washes over your face and you feel that inkling of hope wither inside you, tears stinging at your eyes. Seeing the signs of distress clear on you, Hoseok’s eyes widen in alarm. Slowly, he pulls his cock out of you. You wince at the sensitivity, his cum spilling out of your ass. Ignoring the feeling, you bite your lip and press the heels of your palms against your eyes - willing the tears away.
Immediately, Hoseok’s hands are gently wrapping around your wrists. Slowly, he tugs them away from your eyes - even as you resist. “What’s wrong? What did I say?” Hoseok practically pleads, imploring you with his earnest eyes. You shake your head, not wanting to repeat the words. “____,” Hoseok breathes out, urging you once again.
Hearing the pleading tone, your face crumples, “you said you love me,” you whisper out. Hoseok stiffens above you before he grows quiet. You shut your eyes, turning your head and bracing yourself for his imminent rejection.
“Would it be so bad if I do?” Hoseok asks. Your eyes snap open at his broken voice. Frantically, you search his eyes for any trace of a lie, or insincerity. When you find none, however, your heart flutters in your chest. From above you, Hoseok sighs, before running a hand through his vermillion hair. “You don’t have to say anything. I don’t expect you to reciprocate and I definitely didn’t mean to tell you like this but- but I do. I love you, so much,” Hoseok confesses. His words are like music to your ears, and a different type of elation thrums through you.
“I’m sorry if this changes things-” Hoseok continues.
Unable to help yourself, and a rush of euphoria drumming through your soul, “I think having your cock in my ass is what changed things,” you giggle. Halting at your words, Hoseok’s eyelids widen slightly. Gaze raking over you, he takes in the sight of your satiated smile and twinkling eyes.
“What-” he begins. However, you only giggle in exuberance once again.
Sobering at the slight hurt in his eyes, you smile gently at him. Straining your arms, you cup his cheeks. Then, lifting your head, you ignore the way your muscles twitch in protest. Instead, you place a tender kiss against his lip. “I love you too, Hoseok” you confess - reiterating his previous sentiments.
“Wait- are you serious?” Hoseok splutters in incredulity. Nodding with a giggle, you press another kiss to his lips.
“I’m serious. I love you,” you repeat. This time, Hoseok searches your eyes for any sign of deceit - but like you, he finds none. A large grin curls onto his face, and suddenly, he’s giggling alongside you.
“Have we been in love with each other this entire time?” he asks, shaking his head in exasperation at the thought. You can’t help but chuckle, your cheeks aching from smiling so hard.
“In a way, it makes sense. It’s always been me and you,” you respond.
Hoseok’s face crumples, his eyes softening. Then, he’s bending down and pressing a kiss to your temple. “Yeah… always me and you,” he breathes out. Moving above you, you feel his cock brush against your wet folds. Hissing in pleasure, your hands fall to his ass: fingers gripping his soft, plump cheeks.
“H-Hobi,” you mewl out, instinctively bucking into him.
“Round two already?” he chuckles.
With another nod, you press a kiss against him, “I want to feel you again,” you whisper against his lips. At your words, Hoseok groans. Dragging his cock against your folds, he positions the tip at your entrance.
Then, with one smooth thrust, he slides home into you.
a/n: god if it wasn’t obvious i fucking love jung hoseok
⇥ Kofi | Masterlist
#bts smut#ficswithluv#jhope.network#hyunglinenetwork#kwritersworldnet#bangtanarmynet#btsguild#btsbookclub#btswriterscollective#btswritingcafe#ksmutclub#smutcentralnet#magicshopnet#bangtanhq#hoseok x reader#hoseok fluff#hoseok smut#hoseok angst#jhope x reader#jung hoseok x reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Tali Loyalty Mission Bonus
This is a companion to Chapter 13 of Calibrate My Heart.
She tried her best not to watch him go, her eyes on the page of her book but not really reading. She had to appear calm, collected and not show any of her inner turmoil. She needed to stop allowing herself to have any free time or else these strange feelings about Garrus would shoot back up the surface.
But he had been so earnest.
“I’m not leaving you, Shepard.”
She felt like putty, like she was in danger of turning to liquid and spilling across the floor. The Savior of the Citadel, Commander Shepard, reduced to a yearning mess because of a man who likely had no inkling of how she felt. But she was the captain of the Normandy and she had a critical mission to complete, and she knew that if she didn’t do something about this it would get in the way.
She’d had trysts before, usually one-night stands or casual hook-ups. She’d never had time for dating, had never felt any inhibition about going after what she wanted because it could never last. If she made a mistake, it wasn’t a big deal because she would likely never see that person again. She was a solider, always on the move; she had to take advantage where she could and make no apologies for her choices, even if they were sometimes poor choices.
But this was different. Garrus was her friend and he was here on her ship. If they hooked up, she’d have to continue seeing him and that could complicate things for both of them and for the mission.
Though, if she was being completely honest with herself, whatever she was feeling now was much more than desire for casual sex. Sure, getting laid would be great right now - she could really use that, considering she hadn’t had sex since well before dying over two years ago - but she wanted more from Garrus. She wanted to talk with him and tell him things she’s never told anyone else. Instead of hooking up and leaving in the morning before the other person woke, she wanted to stay in bed and be held. Maybe have some coffee together over breakfast.
Shepard looked at her book and flipped to her favorite passage. “You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope.”
She pressed the open page to her chest and breathed deeply. After a few minutes of rumination, Shepard concluded that she was just confused. She had grown much closer to Garrus as of late and she was, perhaps, lonely and needed some companionship. That was all. It wasn’t anything more than that. But just in case, she should definitely work these feelings out at the gym.
Although she wasn’t dressed to workout, Shepard took the elevator to the cargo and proceeded to run her body raw until she couldn’t feel feelings anymore. But after her sixth mile on the treadmill and fifth set of dead lifts, she realized if someone like Miranda saw her she might try get to get someone like Garrus to go speak to her again and that was the absolute last thing she needed.
So she stretched and retreated back to her cabin. It had been several hours now since she had offered her cabin to Tali and when she tentatively knocked on the door, Tali immediately responded for her to come in.
Tali looked up forlornly from her place on Shepard’s couch, one of Shepard’s books cradled in her lap. “Sorry, I was just looking at some of your books to pass the time,” she said as Shepard entered.
“It’s not a problem, feel free to borrow one whenever you want,” Shepard said, entering the room and facing Tali. “How are you doing?”
Tali put the book aside and looked up at Shepard. “I think the initial shock is over, but now I’m just sad and angry at everything,” she said. “I’m so sorry you were dragged into all that.”
“No, it’s alright,” Shepard said, putting her hand on Tali’s shoulder. “I’ll always have your back.”
Tali smiled at Shepard, or at least that’s what Shepard thought she saw behind the mask, and she said, “You know, I didn’t know what to think of you when we first met. I was grateful you had saved me, but I thought humans were so strange, especially you.”
“Why’s that?”
“You were such a hardass. And then you gave me that geth data for my pilgrimage and returned Veetor when I asked. You defended me against my own people. Now, I can’t believe I ever thought you were cold.”
“Well, I’m trying to be a better person. Turns out, dying changes your perspective on a lot of things.”
“Like what?”
“Like letting yourself feel things that you know you shouldn’t,” Shepard muttered.
“Oh,” Tali said, some of her desolation lifting as her curiosity was piqued, “What do you mean? Do you like someone?”
“Possibly,” Shepard replied, sitting down. “I’m trying to figure that out.”
Tali put her hand to her mask in thought. “Is it someone I know?”
“I’m not telling you that,” Shepard replied, smiling.
“Maybe Thane?” Tali suggested.
“Thane is … very interesting and his hands are so conveniently shaped,” Shepard admitted, which made Tali giggle. “But no, while I do admire him I don’t feel that way.”
“Maybe -“
“Please don’t guess,” Shepard said. “I’m still having enough trouble admitting it to myself.”
“Well, what’s the worst that could happen? Come on Shepard, when was the last time you let yourself have a little fun?”
Shepard chuckled softly and said, “That’s a good point.”
They talked for a little longer about nothing in particular before Tali stood up and said she was ready to get back to work and the mission. Shepard saw her out and stood by the closed door for a moment while she considered Tali’s words.
What was the worst thing that could happen? She could ruin an important relationship. But it was perfectly possible that she could get this out of her system and things could go back to normal.
Fooling herself, Shepard determined that she would sleep on the matter and if in the morning she still wanted to be with Garrus she would tell him so, come what may. If he turned her down, great - now she knew and she could seek out whatever it was she was looking for with someone else. If he accepted her offer, great - she got laid and she could move on with her life.
If he accepted her offer and these feelings of her still lingered …
Shepard cranked the music up in her cabin as loudly as it could go and drowned out her thoughts with a shower.
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
smoke gets in your eyes
for my dear friend @ocheabutter who supports me in everything i do <3 ly mel
°°°
It couldn’t be that hard.
Tony looked once again in the mirror and his reflection laughed at his face. He shook his head, the bags under his eyes now part of his persona as he tried to pull all his life together, one obstacle after the other.
He asked for the millionth time that day if he was ever going to learn how to be a proper father.
Tali was biting the handle of a bright new hairbrush he had just purchased that afternoon. Her big doll-like dark brown eyes studied him with interest as if she too knew he hadn’t the faintest idea what he was doing.
He scoffed. That reminded of someone he knew.
Tali sat on top of the sink countertop in front of him babbling words he couldn’t understand, and his eyes drifted momentarily to the shampoo and conditioner flasks next to her. He had done what everyone had recommended, from Jimmy’s advice on which brand to use to McGee’s insights in how to convince a toddler to have their hair washed to even calling Abby asking for any bit of help.
Somehow he always ended messing something up, from buying clothes to types of baby food to ways of teaching her English, and many other things. There was no way this wouldn’t be the same, with Tali’s curls looking too entangled from where he was standing, imagine after he so clumsily made her blind as shampoo burned her eyelids.
He blinked, probably knowing he was taking it too far.
To his credit though, Tony had to turn from a no one to a single dad of a little human in mere hours, with no warning, no preparation and absolutely zero skills with children.
He sighed, knowing there was no other way.
That child needed a bath, and she needed it badly.
Tali didn’t mind him taking her clothes off, nor being carried to the small bathtub sitting at the shower floor. Tony had rolled up his sleeves and tested the water temperature almost ten times already, but he sighed in relief all the same as Tali only giggled once she was inside the bath.
First step complete.
He opened the shampoo bottle, smelling its scent for a moment and wondering when was the last time he had taken care of his own hair like that. Probably never.
“Hmmm,” he said, then immediately cursed in his mind. That was shampoo, it wasn’t food she needed to think it was delicious. Teaching a child to drink shampoo is not the best way to go, he thought.
He put some in his palm and rubbed them together, only to remember he had to rinse her hair first. After a deep breath and a series of self-doubting thoughts, the game started again and lukewarm water was being cupped by his hand and almost too gently poured onto Tali’s head.
There was no reaction. He frowned. That was a good sign, wasn’t it?
He slowly started massaging her scalp with shampoo, bubbles appearing with foam. Tali kept singing in a language he understood nothing of but was glad she was being distracted. He had no idea if he had done a good job, but soon enough he had just rinsed the shampoo off twice and was ready to pour some conditioner.
A smile crept out in Tony’s mouth. This was going better than he thought, the warm feeling of pride spreading across his chest.
Then he gently grabbed the brush by its bristles from where Tali was bitting it and in an instant, it all went downhill.
Her face contorted almost instantly to sadness, tears already streaming down her cheeks as Tony tried his best not to let her hear his cursing. He quickly let her bite the hairbrush handle again, and sighed in relief when that was able to calm her down, at least for now.
Then he realized he would need another brush.
°°°
“I like to wash my hair, wash wash wash my hair,” she sang as he made her lean under the tap, holding her in place. “Bubbly, bubbly, bubbly,” Tali repeated.
“How does Rapunzel say?”
She started singing the main song from the movie, the one he knew was her favorite and she was going to repeat it many times. Enough times to let him do his job.
Soon her hair was spiked up, foam covering his hands as Tali only giggled at the funny faces he was pulling, falling back to singing right after.
“What does shampoo mean?”
“Shampoo it means uh-” Tony tried to think of a good answer. “It’s like soap that cleans your hair.”
“Ooh, I forgot.”
He started massaging her scalp under the tap, cleaning the bubbles away.
“It feels good,” said Tali, closing her eyes.
“I bet it does,” he smiled. “Abba is a master of it, isn’t he?”
“Hmm-mm.”
Soon it was time of conditioner and disentangling, and he swiftly put Tali to sit onto the sink countertop again in order to brush her curls properly. Tony grabbed the bottle to pour some in his hand and she held her own little hands out, demanding to let her have some too.
“In my hand!”
“This is not for your hand,” he said laughing. “This is not lotion. It’s like shampoo but it’s called conditioner.”
“May I have conditioner?”
“Uh, how does Elsa say?” He was going to run out of princesses to use, but if he had any luck she would soon forget it and start singing the songs all over again.
To no surprise, she was soon humming another one of her favorites, distracted enough that he started to untangle her curls without much problem.
Everything was fine and today was a great day. Tony smiled.
Then the song changed.
Tali started singing it quietly at first, a jumble of words muttered under her breath. He laughed, asking her what new song she had come up with.
Then his heart died in his throat.
She was singing in Hebrew.
His hand stopped midair but Tali continued to sing, eyes not directed at him but rather at the Barbie on her hands. Tony caught a few words with his limited knowledge, but the meaning was too vague for him to truly understand it. His heart was beating too fast for him to think properly.
Ziva, Ziva, Ziva, was all that was ringing in his mind.
Tali stopped singing once she looked at him.
“Did it get it in your eyes, Daddy?” she asked concerned, patting her own eyes with the towel that was around her shoulders instead, as if it would also help him. “It hurts?”
Tony quickly wiped his teary eyes. “No, no, nothing hurts,” he said.
It was a lie.
She studied him for a second but soon was singing again as if nothing had happened. The song wasn't in Hebrew anymore. Tony cleaned his throat.
“Tali,” he said, and she looked up at him again. “Tali, who taught you that song?”
Her forehead furrowed, but she spoke all the same. “Song?”
“The one you were just singing.”
She was a smart girl, maybe she could tell him something. Something, anything about her memories of her. Tony had been desperate to know what her life had been before him maybe since the day he met her.
The despair must have shown in his eyes because Tali was soon shaking her head with worry in her face.
“I don’t know,” she said.
His heart sank once again.
“It’s- It’s okay, sweetie. Don’t worry about it,” he kissed her hairline and felt her relax under his touch. It wasn’t her fault. Nothing was her fault. Nothing of it.
Soon Tali was singing Disney songs again while Tony disentangled her hair the same way he did almost every day. He asked her what movie they should watch and she answered the same one they’ve been watching for the whole week. Everything went back to normal.
He spent the whole night thinking about that song though.
For some reason, he was sure it had her hand in it.
°°°
“One-two-three, UP.”
Tali giggled as she was lifted up in the air to sit on top of the sink countertop. It was morning. The smell of lavender insensed the bathroom, vapor covering the mirror and making everything warm.
Tali turned to it, drawing a ‘T’ next to a heart. She giggled, her eyes bright.
A moment after, another hand placed a 'Z' just next to it.
Ziva laughed as well, the sound of their laughter echoing all around the bathroom. She opened the door to let the air in and grabbed a fresh towel to put around Tali’s shoulders.
“Daddy said we would make pizza today,” she said with a big gap-toothed smile.
“Did he now?” Ziva started drying her hair with another towel, rubbing her head until Tali was all giggles and laughter.
“Do you think he can beat my bread with his pizza?”
“No,” said Tali giggling, then covered her mouth as if it was a secret, but the smile was still very visible behind it.
“Hmm, maybe he can surprise us.”
Ziva started untangling her hair, a brush swiftly undoing Tali’s curls that were a match to her own.
Tony leaned against the doorframe, shaking his head as his throat started to close.
Ziva was singing. She was muttering the melody under her breath, Tali smiling at her.
It was in Hebrew.
It almost undid him.
Tony didn’t even feel the time passing, for a moment he was watching her and the other Tali was already dressed, running between his legs. Time had a different feeling to him now, as if they suddenly had too much of it. Past and present seemed to overlap more often than not.
“Are you alright?” asked Ziva frowning as she placed her hand on his chest.
He wondered if she could feel his heartbeat pounding inside.
Tony pulled her close, kissing her hairline. Smoke clouded his vision.
“I love you,” he said.
Ziva laughed, it was something he said all the time and they both knew that.
“Why do you say it at most random things? Is it not something to be cherished? To be guarded for special moments?” she asked, looking up, her hands circling his body.
“Oh, Dah-veed,” Tony shook his head, pulling her even closer as he replied in her hair. “Prepare to hear it for the rest of your life.”
#ncis#tiva#tivali#tiva fanfiction#tivali fanfiction#tiva fics#my fics#it's miss them hour#don't mind me crying over the progression of things#anyway thought of you while writing this mel#really hope you like it <3
112 notes
·
View notes
Text
It’s whumptober baby
I’m so excited for this you guys don’t even know
Warnings: Restraints, stabbing/cutting, knives, whump on a character who appears to be a minor but is not actually a minor (Felix is called ‘kid’ by other characters)
Word Count: 1,900
Whumptober Prompt – Waking up Restrained
––––––––––––––––
The first thing I noticed was the cold, and the wind. Then, as I slowly became more aware of my surroundings, the coarse ropes around my wrists, and a hard, rough surface against my back. I forced my eyes open, blinking away the heaviness of sleep that lingered unnaturally on my mind. My vision was blurry, but I could make out trees, a flickering light, and – people. Four of them, moving indistinctively. I pulled at my wrists, craning my neck in an attempt to see the bindings. I was tied, standing upright, against a tree, my arms pulled behind me. I realized I could hear the people speaking, arguing, it sounded like.
Four people, and I knew one thing for certain – Varren was not among them. I wouldn’t put it past him to tie me to a tree in the middle of the night, but he was gone. Away on a three-day trip, alone. So where was I, and how did I get here?
“Hey, jackasses, he’s awake.”
Great. He sounded friendly. My vision slowly started to clear, enough to see two of the figures approaching. One of them grabbed my hair and roughly pulled my head up, knocking it against the tree in the process.
“You said he would stay out for longer,” the first figure, man, said, glaring accusingly at the second figure, who was holding my hair – a woman, I could tell now, with brown skin and long black hair.
“I said that it would last six to twelve hours. Besides, he looks pretty out of it.” She turned her attention to me and waved her hand in front of my face.
I flinched back, as much as the hand in my hair would allow, and the woman laughed.
“Jumpy, are you?” She teased. “That’ll make this more fun.”
The man glared at her back. “You’re not here for fun,” he emphasized. “You’re here as hired help.”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy it,” she shot back, releasing her grip on my hair. “How else are you planning to get anything good out of him?”
I looked between the two of them, taking stock of their appearance now that my vision was nearly back. The man was tall and muscular, with short blond hair and a scar down the left side of his face. The woman was shorter, and a maliciously eager light danced in her eyes. It reminded me of Varren. I hated it.
“Would you two shut up?” A third voice, a woman, interjected. “The cat has ears, you know.”
The woman rolled her eyes and turned away. The man hesitated, glancing me over once more before following. I looked to where the third voice had come from and identified another man and woman sitting by a fire. Four of them, one of me. Not great odds.
I considered my options. On the one hand, did I really want to escape? Whoever these people were, and whatever their intentions were for kidnapping me, they must dislike Varren, and that was enough for me to have some good feelings towards them. Even if they had knocked me out and tied me to a tree. Maybe I could even help them.
On the other hand, all it would take for Varren to realize what had happened was a quick check inside my head, something that was all too easy and that he enjoyed doing when I least expected it. And when he found out I had even considered helping these people, whoever they were…I shuddered.
“Enough arguing!”
My attention was pulled back to the group as the second woman, tall with blonde hair, shoved past the others and towards me.
“We’re on a time limit,” she said to her companions. “If we want to get this done, we need to start.”
The blond man looked away; his mouth set in a hard line. The second man, a shorter figure with brown hair and the beginnings of a beard, stood from his place by the fire. “Tali’s right,” he said to the blond. “You don’t have to like it.”
He approached me alongside the blonde woman, Tali. The dark-haired woman hung back, an unsettling grin on her face. I found myself shrinking back, but with the tree behind me, I didn’t have anywhere to go.
“We’re not going to hurt you unless we have to,” the man said, as if that was supposed to be comforting. “Give us what we need, and we’ll all be happy.”
I decided it was about time I said something. “Who are you? And what do you want?”
“Hey, we’re asking the questions!” Tali snapped.
The man held up a placating hand. “It’s alright, Tali. He has a right to know.” He ignored Tali’s eye roll and continued. “This is Tali, as I’m sure you’ve guessed. My name is Jace.” He gestured to the blond man. “That’s Tali’s brother, Rolf.” He pointed to the dark-haired woman. “And of course, Avis.”
“Now that we’re done with introductions,” Tali said, “could we get back to what’s important?”
Jace smiled disarmingly. “Of course. Now, if you cooperate this will go much smoother for all of us,” he reminded me. “All we want is for you to help us steal something from Varren Evrenden.”
He said it so confidently, so casually that for several seconds all I could do was stare at him. “Oh, is that all?” I asked in disbelief. “You didn’t seem to have any trouble kidnapping me, why didn’t you take what you want then?”
Jace shook his head. “Not possible. He keeps this item with him at all times.”
“Help us get it, and we won’t have to hurt you,” Tali said, though it sounded more like a threat than a reassurance. “It’s a charm, one of a kind.”
“I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” I told them. I wasn’t lying either – whatever ‘charm’ they were after, Varren had never shown it to me.
Tali scowled. “Don’t make this difficult.”
“I’m telling the truth,” I insisted. “I’ve never seen any charm!”
“You’re his familiar!” Tali shot back. “Why wouldn’t he tell you about it?”
I nearly laughed out loud. “That doesn’t mean anything to him!”
“He’s telling the truth,” Avis chimed before Tali could respond. “The kid is worthless.” She shook her head. “There goes your one plan.”
Jace frowned. “You’re sure?”
Avis laughed. “Am I sure? What did you hire me for? He’s so easy to read it’s pathetic. I thought cats were supposed to be good at telepathy, but here we are.”
I clenched my jaw. A high-level empath, I guessed, high enough to tell when people were being truthful. I was so used to having my guard down around Varren that I hadn’t even thought to mentally shield myself.
“We can still use him.” Rolf, who had been observing silently, spoke up. “Maybe the witch will negotiate when he hears we have his familiar.”
“Didn’t you hear me?” I asked. “He doesn’t give a damn what happens to me!”
“I find that hard to believe,” Tali said. “Every witch I know has at least some sort of attachment to their familiar. Why should Evrenden be any different?”
The absurdity of it nearly made me laugh out loud. “Do you not know anything about him at all? I’m probably last on the list of things he cares about.”
Tali looked to Avis. “Is he lying?” She demanded.
Avis shrugged. “No. Either he has really bad self-esteem issues, or Evrenden is a heartless bastard. Which we already knew.”
Tali turned back to glare at me, as if it were somehow my fault that Varren was a sorry excuse for a human being. “We can still use him,” she decided.
“Oh?” Jace inquired.
“If we can surprise Evrenden when he doesn’t expect it, we’ll have a chance at overpowering him.”
Rolf shifted uneasily. “That doesn’t sound like a good idea.”
“Agreed,” Avis said. “I didn’t sign up for a suicide mission.”
Tali scowled at the two of them. “What else do you suggest?”
“We all know I’m only in this for the money,” Avis said. “Don’t ask me to solve your problems.”
“An ambush is the best option we have.” Jace looked apologetically at Rolf. “Sorry, but once again, your sister is right. We must take the risk. Our employer will not be happy if we return empty-handed.”
“At least someone is thinking clearly.” Tali turned back to me. “Alright kid, start talking.”
I didn’t let myself entertain the thought of helping them. Ashamed as I was to admit it, I was more afraid of what Varren would do to me to let the potential good outweigh it.
“I’m not telling you anything.”
Avis smirked. “Guess we’re doing this my way.”
I felt a shiver of fear make its way up my spine as she approached, and consoled myself with the thought that nothing she had planned could possibly touch what Varren had already done. That didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt, though.
Tali and Jace stepped aside. Rolf looked away. I got the feeling he didn’t exactly approve of Avis, or her apparent penchant for torture, but he also wasn’t doing anything to stop her.
“Last chance,” Avis taunted, pulling a knife out of her belt.
I didn’t say anything. She stepped closer and held the blade against my face, the sharp edge barely digging into my skin. It was cold against my skin, and uncomfortably close to my left eye.
“Cat got your tongue?” She smirked. I suppressed an eye roll. “You have quite an adorable face,” she mused, digging in the knife ever so slightly. Not enough to draw blood – not yet. “Not a single scar on it.” She leaned closer, too close, and I was pressing myself further against the tree despite knowing it was useless. “I can fix that.”
She twisted the knife sharply, and I hissed in pain as it cut a line of fire down my face. Warm blood flowed down my face, catching in the collar that was still around my neck. It hurt, but not bad.
“A fun warmup,” Avis said brightly. “I like to start small.” She flipped the knife in her hand lifted to my shoulder, this time not waiting at all before plunging it into my shoulder.
I cried out, my vision going white for an instant. I shut my eyes tightly and forced myself to breathe, but it was hard when I swear I felt the knife hit bone.
“Hey, stay with me.” I felt a hard smack against my injured cheek and forced my eyes open. Avis was still smiling. “That’s better! Feeling more inclined to talk now?”
I clenched my jaw and glared at her. She seemed unfazed. Then she took hold of the knife and twisted, and I must have screamed but all I was aware of was white-hot pain – I didn’t know it was possible for a knife to hurt this bad – then it finally stopped and I struggled to breathe through the feeling of the knife that was still in my shoulder, all while Avis stood there, grinning.
“Having fun yet?” She moved the knife, no more than a centimeter, and I shut my mouth against a whimper. She leaned close again, jostling the knife as she did and causing more pain to shoot through my body. “We’re only getting started.”
––––––––––––––––
Tag List! Let me know if you want to be added or removed, or if I somehow missed your name.
@castielamigos-whump-side-blog @shameless-whumper @whumpity--whump--whump @whumpitywhumpwhump @nervous-writer @this-zombie-will-eat-you @abyssshifter @whumpersworld @whatwasmyprevioususername @scared-and-crying @whatwhumpcomments
#whumptober2020#no.1#waking up restrained#OC#fic#writing#stabbing tw#cutting tw#knives tw#my ocs: felix#my ocs: avis#whump#nonhuman whumpee
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
the stars always make me laugh (1/4)
Now complete! Here is chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4, and the epilogue.
A year to the day after Ziva departs D.C. to return to Paris and reunite with her family, her newfound contentment is shaken by an unexpected loss. Tony and Tali are right where they belong—safely by her side—but she still finds herself feeling drawn to reflect on the past. She might just be able to use this new grief to bring peace to old wounds, renewing hope along the way for a future with her family... but only if she can find a way to let go of what haunts her.
Written as a combined response to two different challenge prompts; also available for reading on ff and AO3. This is angsty but will ultimately be soft.
_________________________
"And when your sorrow is comforted (time soothes all sorrows) you will be content that you have known me. You will always be my friend. You will want to laugh with me. And you will sometimes open your window, so, for that pleasure… And your friends will be properly astonished to see you laughing as you look up at the sky! Then you will say to them, 'Yes, the stars always make me laugh!'"
—Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince
_________________________
January 7th, 2021
It's a Thursday morning when Tony gets the call.
He's working from home today, and he's nearing the end of a video conference when his phone buzzes—he looks down to check it and sees his favorite unflattering photo of Tim McGee on the screen. Paris is six hours ahead of Washington, where McGee presumably still is, which makes it… hmm. It's four in the morning there. He's probably not reaching out for a casual chat, then.
Something tells him to take the call.
"Sorry to be rude," Tony says quickly in French, looking back at his computer screen, "but there's an emergency I have to deal with. Let's go ahead and wrap this up for today and we'll talk progress next week, same time as usual—Félix, go ahead and email me that report, if you can. I'll check in when I'm back at the office tomorrow. Have a good morning, all of you."
Then he abruptly ends the conference; he cares very little if he comes across as impolite, because his thoroughly French team has always seen him as a hopelessly crass American anyway.
Tony hits a button on his cell, catching the call just before it would have gone to voicemail. "Why, if it isn't Tim-Tim-Timothy McGee!" he cries, jovial as usual even though he's a little apprehensive about the nature of the unexpected conversation. "What can I do for you?"
"Hey, Tony." McGee sounds tired, which is little wonder given the time difference. "Do you have a moment to talk?"
"Sure," Tony agrees, dropping the slightly mocking enthusiasm from his tone. "What's up?"
"I don't know how to tell you this, so I'm just going to say it, okay?"
"...okay."
"There was an accident last night, and—"
"Who?" Tony can read between the lines—he doesn't have to hear the word "death" to understand that someone he knows has passed away.
"It was Ducky."
_________________________
Tony is on the phone with McGee for another fifteen minutes, getting all the details and committing them to memory as best as he can through his slight haze of shock. Though Ducky had always been the oldest member of their team and clearly couldn't live forever, he had seemed… invincible, somehow. He was an institution, something timeless and never-ending.
Of course, that had been an illusion, but still, it's strange to know that the vibrant old man is now just…
Gone.
The rest of the workday is spent processing all of this new information and making preparations. Tony can't imagine a world in which they wouldn't fly back to the States to attend the funeral, and though he hasn't yet talked to Ziva about it, he feels fairly comfortable arranging emergency bereavement leave from work and informing Tali's school that she'll be out next week.
Near the end of the call, McGee had asked if Tony wanted him to call Ziva, too, or if Tony wanted to tell her himself. Tony's answer was immediate: he knew without needing to stop and consider that telling Ziva in person would be the right thing to do.
It doesn't matter how much he hates having to give bad news.
Tony intends to do it tonight, once his wife is home from work… she has experienced too much loss in her life for him to be anything less than absolutely gentle in telling her about their old friend. There's no need to make it harder than it needs to be; an impersonal phone call across the Atlantic may have been an inevitability for Tony himself, but now that he knows, he wants to be there to hold Ziva's hand when she finds out, too.
He would give anything to spare her from as much pain as possible, and while he can't do much, he can do this.
Fortunately, the timing of McGee's call is decent—Tali has choir practice after school today, effectively speeding up the rest of the evening's schedule. By the time Ziva gets home, it'll nearly be dinner time, and bedtime will follow shortly after.
Tony doesn't want to delay giving Ziva the news, but he thinks it best to wait until Tali is safely tucked away. That way, they don't have to worry about putting on happy faces to keep from scaring her.
_________________________
As soon as Ziva walks in the door, she can tell that something is wrong. Tony looks tired or sad, or maybe both. He kisses her in greeting as usual, though, and when she gives him a questioning look, he answers with an almost imperceptible shake of his head. Later, she understands that to mean.
Ziva is concerned, but she trusts him.
Still, Tony seems eager to rush through Tali's evening routine, telling Ziva her unsettled feeling isn't merely a product of her typical anxiety… she's right, and something has happened or is happening still.
If she was Gibbs, she'd claim a gut feeling.
"Tony, is everything alright?" Ziva asks in a low, tense voice once Tali's bedroom door is shut for the night.
Tony shakes his head. "Let's go sit," he answers softly.
He leads her to the couch and she sits next to him automatically, her heart starting to race in a horribly familiar way. "Please just tell me, whatever it is," she murmurs anxiously.
Tony takes her hand. "Alright." His voice is gentle. "Just don't forget to breathe, Ziva, okay? I got a call from McGee today, and he had some bad news. Ducky was in an accident last night… he passed away this morning."
Ziva's pulse is thudding in her ears, and she focuses on the grounding anchor of Tony's hand on hers as she tries to internalize what he just told her. "An accident?" she echoes, sounding distant even to herself.
"Yeah…" Tony shakes his head and unexpectedly gives a quiet, incredulous laugh. The sound pulls Ziva out of her head a little, and she makes a conscious effort to squeeze his hand back as she waits for details.
He gives her a warm smile, recognizing the gesture.
"Honestly, it was the 'Duckiest' way that he could have died, I think," Tony explains. "He had apparently been out in Newfoundland exploring some continental fault thing, and on the way back, his plane hit some bad weather and ended up crashing. Palmer says it was very quick—Ducky never would have felt a thing."
Ziva nods, slightly faint but quickly getting over her shock. With any luck, she'll avoid a full-blown anxiety attack; the frequency of the attacks has decreased since she reunited with her family a year ago, but they'll always be a threat that she has to be prepared for.
Tony seems to understand that she's not quite ready to talk yet, so he keeps going. "There are worse ways to go, for sure, and I think Ducky would have wanted to spend his last minutes just as he did: coming from from an adventure in a tiny two-seater Bonanza. You know what I mean?"
"Yes… yes, I am sure you are right," she agrees, her voice steadier.
"I'm really glad that we got to see him recently, too. We had a good time, didn't we?"
"We did." A few months back, Ducky'd had a daylong layover in Paris on a trip to a remote area of Siberia, and they'd spent a very fun day showing him around the city. Their daughter had warmed to him quickly, which was hardly surprising.
"Hopefully Tali was old enough that she'll remember it, I think."
"Yes."
Tony pauses, and with his free hand, he reaches up to briefly caress his wife's cheek. "Are you alright?" he questions, concerned. "You're not saying much. I don't want you to pass out on me."
"I am—" Ziva stops in the middle of her sentence and takes two deep breaths. She had nearly said 'fine,’ but she's not, is she?
Ziva likes to think that she can be open and honest with Tony these days, as much as a lifetime of trials has given her the impulse to keep things to herself. The fact that Tony waits patiently for her to finish rather than interrupting tells her that she's right—she shouldn't shut him out.
Finally coming to a decision, she shakes her head. "No."
Tony nods. "I thought that might be the case."
"Are you?"
"Alright?"
"Yes."
"No. No, I'm really not. But I will be."
Tony's words suddenly pull a memory to the forefront of Ziva's mind, and she tilts her head for a moment, considering something.
Tony waits, a slight frown furrowing his brow.
"Come," Ziva decides finally. "There is something that I want to show you."
_________________________
A few minutes later, a bemused Tony watches from the doorway as Ziva digs determinedly through a box in the back of their bedroom closet. He knows what's in that box, and he knows that several identical boxes stacked neatly in the corner contain more of the same: Ziva's old journals from NCIS, dozens of them thoughtfully shipped to Paris by Ellie Bishop.
"Are you looking for one in particular?"
"Yes," Ziva answers, but she doesn't explain any further. After a few more seconds, she makes a noise of triumph and rises with one of the journals in hand.
"Found it?"
"I did."
She leads him back to the bedroom and sits on the bed, inviting him to sit next to her; Tony is relieved to see that while she definitely looks pained and tired, there are no obvious signs of an impending anxiety attack.
Once they're settled, Ziva gently—almost lovingly—pats the cover of the thin book. "This is one of my journals from late 2009 until early 2010."
"That's—"
"Shortly after I was rescued from the desert, yes."
Tony nods; it's not his favorite time to think about, and he knows it can't be for Ziva, either—so why did she pull this notebook in particular from the dozens of identical ones chronicling her experiences?
"Ducky was… helpful to me, in the aftermath of my rescue."
"He was?" Tony interjects in surprise. "You've never talked about that before."
"It is not a subject that I deeply enjoy discussing, something I am sure you can understand."
"Sure."
"Well, because I believe that sharing this memory will honor Ducky, I would like to tell you more about what he did for me."
"Are you sure?"
Ziva nods, and she keeps the journal clutched lovingly in one hand as she reaches over to lay a hand on Tony's thigh. "It has been a long time, and I think I am ready." She offers a smile—it's small and watery, but it's very sincere, and something about it makes Tony's own eyes start to sting.
He's been too busy to cry today, but he knows it's coming sooner or later. Ducky had been family for a very long time, and with this on top of that loss...
"Okay," he agrees roughly, clearing his throat. "Take it away. I'm all ears."
Ziva squeezes his thigh and then pulls her hand away, glancing down at the journal; this one will always be one she cares for above its brethren, because its painful content reminds her of how much she has overcome.
After a pause, Ziva opens it carefully.
Then, her voice surprisingly steady, she starts to read.
_________________________
January 7th, 2010
There is a reason that I have not penned an entry in quite some time; I have walked a difficult road these past months. Today, however, I was offered a comfort that I had not previously possessed the courage to ask for. If I have any hope of sorting through my own thoughts on the matter, though, I need to reconsider earlier events.
Before returning to Mossad more than half a year ago, I was faced with a dilemma that I had successfully avoided in my career before that point—that is, the dilemma of who to trust and who to side with when personal and professional obligations become hopelessly conflicted. I have already written at length about the choices I and the others made in the midst of that conflict.
Much has happened since then, but recent forced introspection has shown me an important connection between the difficulties of Michael's death and the horrors I endured after: a connection between who I was then and who I am now. That night, it only took a few minutes to change the course of my life: in that time, Tony and Michael fought, and Michael was killed. Every single one of us has had to deal with the consequences of those events ever since.
At the time, I let my anger and my grief consume me, destroying all vestiges of rationality in my thoughts and decisions. I followed that pain to the Horn of Africa, hurting and reckless and prepared for death.
Of course, I did not die, and that has brought consequences of its own… consequences that I am only now beginning to come to terms with.
In the wake of Michael's death and doubly so in the wake of my experiences in the desert camp, I found myself vulnerable. For the first time in my life, I'd been forced to acknowledge my heart and acknowledge its fragility. It could be bruised. It could humiliate me. These were things that frightened me, because I knew from recent experience that they could—and likely would—be used against me. My fear led me to withdraw, to hide again; acknowledging my own weakness demanded far less bravery than I would have needed to share that vulnerability with my friends.
I defaulted to an old defense mechanism. I leaned on ability borne of long experience to simply feign contentment. I passed my psychological evaluations, I sent my resignation to Abba, and against all odds, I was instated as a probationary special agent at NCIS. After a time, my colleagues stopped watching me when they thought I could not see, waiting for me to fall apart. I had convinced them that I was alright; perhaps I even convinced myself some of the time, too. Maybe I was not yet as 'fine' as I seemed to be, but I was sure that in time, I would reach a point where my conscience felt as carefree as my forced smile looked to those who loved me.
Darkness, however, is difficult to chase away with one single flickering candle, lit only by the flame of my own exhausted determination. My candle burned low, worn down over time, and I found myself in need of help. I alone could not summon the light that had long since fled my tired soul.
Though I did not know to whom I should turn, fate helped a friend to find me. It was—of all people—Ducky. In many ways, he is something of a saba* to me, the kind that I wished for as a child. Even so, I would not have thought to seek him out as a confidant. I see now how remiss I was in taking him for granted as I have sometimes done. It turns out that he was just who I needed.
He found me this evening in the midst of… I do not know how to define what I was feeling. I can only say that I was lost in a moment of weakness. At the time, being seen that way was humiliating, but now, several hours later, it feels serendipitous.
Ducky and I spoke quite candidly then… I will not record the details of the conversation here, because I feel in no danger of forgetting what was said. I am confident, however, that today marks something of a new beginning for me. There is still so much to sort through and process, but the shadows already feel less dim.
Today, I invited a friend to see my darkness, and despite what he saw, he did not pity me; he only held my hand and lit another candle.
_________________________
*saba = "grandfather" in Hebrew
#ncis fanfiction#tiva#tivali#tony dinozzo#ziva david#tali david-dinozzo#ducky mallard#timothy mcgee#cynthia writes stuff too#this is for two more biscuits challenges that i got way too committed to lol#parts two through four are already planned out and half written#they'll be posted shortly#hurt/comfort#angst but ultimately soft
24 notes
·
View notes
Note
You've been visited by the random writing prompts goblin!! - Write about your character just... talking. Are they talking to themselves, or with someone else? What kind of slang or phrases do they use often? Do they have an accent?
I really should quit writing these one-on-one scenes with Kodelyn and Lali (and maybe y’know, with their actual partners) but I couldn’t get the prompt out of my head! I love them too much and Citlali’s POV is one of my favorites to write -- she goes off on a lot of tangents and I find it more funny and entertaining that anything. Way different than I write Kodelyn’s. Probably should do more shippy writing at some point, but some point is not now.
Post-war. Word count: 2,008. no warnings.
-
“Y’know, she even said she might even put a good word in for me,” Citlali leans back in her chair, grinning around her straw, “Might be a real flight lieutenant, give or take like a decade. No more stowaway-ing for me.”
“Sounds nice.”
“Yeah. Dealing with ships is more my speed than people. Biotic regiment sounds too...I don’t know, challenging? Out there? For little old me.” The younger woman sighs, throwing a hand over her forehead dramatically, “Plus I’d have to work with our dear Major Alenko of all people. As if I don’t see enough of him now, he’d be my actual CO this time around.”
“Yep.”
“Still, that’s years out when the galaxy gets it’s head back on straight. Think they’re just absurdly shortstaffed right now. Not even sure whether this is a good idea or not, I mean, I spent half my life afraid of what I could do and now? Supernova. Might as well make good use of this.” She snaps her fingers, “Like lighting...something on fire. Damn it, lost the analogy that quickly.”
“That��s great.”
Citlali straightens in her chair again, looking around the atrium and shaking her cup, ice rattling inside of the plastic. The Citadel was rebuilding, after nearly a year and a half after the war had ended, and a few wards were getting back to the idea of normal. If one went wandering, one could probably still see the scars and missing shops, homes and even nearly half a ward on the other side. Yet, here they were, at a little fast food place, still very much alive and thriving.
Suck on that, Reapers. Shepard 3, Reapers 0.
The energy in the food court is different from where it had been before the Citadel had been moved to Sol. Less nervous energy to burn, less fatalistic views being preached from every corner of the Presidium. Life was getting back to good. Summer was right around the corner on Earth at least. Less death and mass murder at the hands of the Reaper putting a dampener on dinner.
She squints at her sister. Kodelyn Shepard, entirely off duty, was still in something that made Citlali think she was going to spar with James. Offhandedly she wonders if she would ever take her up on that offer to get a full wardrobe beyond the one or two shirts, jeans and boots she owned. Considering she rarely saw Kaidan out of anything similar, she’d have to do something about that soon.
She’d always looked nice in yellow.
However, said Shepard has a smile just gently tugging at the corners of her mouth while one hand flies over her omni-tool’s keyboard, not a glance up to where Citlali is.
She’s not paying attention. Probably hasn’t been since she started talking nearly five minutes ago. Her offhanded responses have gotten better though, Kodelyn almost had her fooled that she was carrying on a two-way conversation. Probably should’ve gotten suspicious when she didn’t actually offer anything to the conversation. Or when she opened the omni-tool to begin with. Multi-tasking had always been a skill that she had, not so much one that Citlali did.
“Anything good?” Citlali reaches over the table to gently (alright, she’ll admit it wasn’t all that gentle) pull at her sister’s wrist. A quick glance at the ID tells her all she needed to as she slumps back in the chair, “Damn, speak of the devil! You haven’t been listening to a single thing I’ve said have you?”
“Hey!” Kodelyn yanks her hand back, swiping at the screen a few times, “I have been listening.” She retorts indignantly.
“Have you?” Citlali raises an eyebrow. She hasn’t been, but knowing her sister, she’s good enough at halfway paying attention to reconstruct what she’s said well enough that she wouldn’t be able to accuse her otherwise.
Damn her. Sound doesn’t turn to soup whenever multiple conversations are going on around her. Lucky.
“Yes! I have.”
“Uh huh,” Citlali gnaws at the straw, wickedly grinning when she returns to typing, “Anything dirty?”
“No!” Kodelyn yelps, closing the UI, and dropping her face into her hands as Citlali cackles at her own jab, “Would you give it a rest?”
“I would, if he didn’t take over every waking thought of yours.” Citlali playfully presses a finger into her vulnerable forehead, “Fi-an-ce, brother-in-law-to-be or otherwise, you could at least spare your maid of honor and baby sister twenty minutes of your undivided attention.”
Kodelyn softly smiles. She’s at least genuinely apologetic, leaning back into her own chair with her hands out in front of her, “I know. And I’m sorry, just...”
“I know. He’s important. This whole shing-ding you have planned for the dead of summer is important. Actually, why the middle of July? Do you know how sticky July is? How humid it is to my poor hair? And yours?” Citlali gets a bit carried away (well that was on Kodelyn, July was the month of the devil. But then again she’d never been to Vancouver in July...and she was getting carried away again), “But have you spent a single second today not on that thing?”
“You know, I don’t just use it to talk to Kaidan. There is spectre business to attend to as well. Just because the war ended didn’t mean that work did.”
“Really? You had me fooled, thought he was the only contact in there,” Citlali snickers as Kodelyn rolls her eyes, “I get it, you’re still important and you’re still really busy. I respect that. Just sometimes I just want to know what’s going on with you without having to hear it secondhand, or on my ‘tool.”
“As if you haven’t been equally quiet the last few months.”
“I haven’t! I even sent the RSVP note back. In pen. That’s how much it meant to me.”
“That was your writing? Thought Mason got ahold of it. Kaidan and I could barely tell who it was from.”
“Ok, glad we can agree our baby brother writes like a chicken, but my handwriting is not that bad!” Kodelyn snickers as Citlali pops the cap off her cup, rattling around the ice at the bottom of the cup. Pink liquid still hangs onto the cubes, which meant the last of the juice was still hiding from her. She sucks on the straw anyway, “We have all the time in the galaxy now and we still just keep missing each other. Twice you were presumed or actually dead -- three if you want to count the original battle of the Citadel, and sometimes it still doesn’t feel real that you’re sitting across from me, very much alive and kicking. Three times I had to come to terms with the fact you might actually be gone.”
Kodelyn’s expression softens at her admission, “Is that why you keep trying to invite me out to ‘girl’s nights?’ Because you just want to make sure I’m still here?”
“No that’s mostly mom, you really have to start answering those. Occasionally Tali whenever she’s here, she’s asks after you, y’know. Liara and I hang out sometimes. Not as much fun, she’s as quiet as you sometimes and I’m not an archeologist. Or information broker. Or Asari. Not much we can talk about that isn’t confidential or something way out of my realm of understanding -- not like she wants to talk about the newest extranet series either.” Citlali remarks. She did genuinely like Liara, even if their interests were on opposite sides of the galaxy. Maybe she should bother the Asari a bit more before she took off again into the unknown, wherever said unknown was. What did a Shadow Broker do all day?
Beyond the point though, “Look, I won’t get sappy, but the piece of your pie chart that’s dedicated to me means a lot. It’s good when I don’t nearly get a heart attack every time you’re on the news.”
“If it was that serious-”
“-And it’s not.”
“If it is,” Kodelyn continues, “I’ll always be here. Just a call away.”
“I had to schedule this a week in advance, Dee.” Citlali gestures with her pretty much empty cup, though backs down a moment later, “Maybe I’m being a bit ridiculous, but I can count on one hand how many just...days like this we’ve spent together since the war ended. I mean, you could probably count everyday I was in your hospital room, but those are technically invalid since you weren’t conscious for most of them.”
“You know better than anyone that I’ve been pulled in thirteen different directions at once, not all of them as fun as you make them out to be. And yeah, you’re right, maybe I haven’t been making as much of an effort as I could be to spend some 1-on-1 time with you.” Kodelyn taps her nails on the table, thinking while the conversation lulls, “You still mean everything to me Lali. I’ll be better, just give me some time to figure all of this out, okay?”
Time, all they had was time these days. And yet it felt like she’d blinked, the war happened, and she was sitting in a hospital waiting room for hours on end. Blinked again, and she found herself back in her own apartment, her own bed, her semi-old life. Startling, almost like none had passed at all between when she’d picked up that call from Miranda to now. And yet, now it didn’t feel like she was wasting any of it by pulling her sister away to do something silly or inane. Death was no longer rapping at their door with increasing ferocity, almost like a much too determined salesman. Felt like they’d managed to crucible it across the front lawn and send it scrambling.
“Yeah, of course. Just...for the record.” She shrugs. The cup is finally empty, making an ugly noise when she sucks on the straw, instead still gnawing on it, “All we have is time these days. And I’m not being sarcastic, we honestly do. We’ll see the passing of another century given something else doesn’t try to annihilate the galaxy.”
“Yeah, if they could wait until after the next Council summit as well as after the wedding, that’d be great.” Her sister says, flickering open her UI again, “I spent way too much time helping planning both of those to have them ransacked by the next Harbinger.”
“Oh yes!” Citlali grins, “Councilor Shepard-Alenko, that’ll be the day. Yes ‘Reapers’, we have dismissed that claim already.”
“I still haven’t accepted,” Kodelyn laughs, turning her wrist to show Citlali something, “And I might not, I’ll recommend Petrakis but that’s as far as I’m going to help them find a proper representative. I’m not really Councilor material, and Kaidan’s had to remind me I can’t exactly hang up on them if they’re standing right next to me.”
“Really? Finally time to kick back and settle down with you, huh? Nice little place in Vancouver? Here? Part of me is going to be surprised if I see you in anything other than a t-shirt and jeans.”
“Probably not forever, but there is a piece of my pie chart dedicated to not driving myself up the wall anymore,” She gently presses her finger into Citlali’s forehead, making her chuckle, “Not such a bad thing. And I wore that spring dress you bought for me last month.”
“The day you step back from all this,” Citlali waves her arms around them, “Is the day I eat my hat.”
“I’m capable of more than just all this.” Kodelyn gestures similarly, “It’ll be nice to step back and enjoy what we saved. Preferably not from a war room anymore.”
“Never thought I’d peel you out of one,” Citlali says, “Mrs. Kaidan Alenko.”
“You have to get tired of saying that at some point.” Kodelyn’s partially right, though it amuses her. Sort of sweet at times.
“Will I? I don’t think so.”
“Really?” Kodelyn raises an eyebrow, “So how soon can I call you Mrs. Jeff Moreau?”
“New topic!”
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Second Chance — Ch. 2
Summary: After Kagami and Luka break up with Adrien and Marinette, they find solace in each other’s company and grow closer together.
Tags: lukagami, friendship, romance, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort
Ch. 2/?
Read on AO3
Previous (Ch. 1) — Next (Ch. 3)
A/N: aaaaaa luka is so hard to write alsdkfjask i hope i portrayed him well enough oof
thank you mozzy, kim, and tali for your help ❤️
Ch. 2: Orange
It was a sleepy Saturday afternoon when Luka let her go.
She was lying next to him on his bed, listening to his latest composition. But he could barely play the notes. His fingers were too heavy, his heart like a stone in his chest. He stopped in the middle of a line.
“Marinette, I know you’re in love with someone else.”
She sat up. “What? No. I—I’ve moved on from Adrien, I promise—”
“No, not Adrien. Someone else.” He strummed a gentle chord, not meeting her eyes. “Your friend. The one you’re always talking about.”
“My … friend?”
“Yeah. The one who makes you laugh.”
“I don’t understand,” she said.
He rubbed his guitar pick between his fingers. “You’ve never told me his name. And every time I ask about him you brush it off. But when you talk about him … your heart sounds like this.”
He played a few notes of a different tune—something beautiful and longing and hopeful, like the kiss of a moonbeam on a cool night breeze. It was the way he felt whenever he thought of her.
But she played that tune for someone else.
“I think I have to let you go,” he said softly.
Marinette’s eyes went wide. “No, Luka, don’t do this. It’s not—it’s not what you think. I’d never—”
“I know you wouldn’t, but you can’t help the way you feel. And you can’t hide it, either.”
“Luka, please—”
“I love you, Marinette.”
He searched her eyes for an answer to the question he could never bring himself to ask out loud. She stared back at him, opened her mouth, and said nothing. His heart sank to the floor.
“You’ve never been able to say it back,” he said. “And that’s OK. It will take me a while to get your melody out of my head. But I’ll be alright. I’ll find a new song. And you … you need to listen to the song your heart has been singing this whole time. You need to follow the music.”
Her eyes were filled with tears. “No, listen, you don’t understand—”
“Please don’t make this harder than it already is,” he whispered.
He let her go with a kiss to the forehead. She paused in his doorway and looked back, her cheeks stained with tears.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
With a stifled sob, she closed the door. And then she was gone.
———————————
The music in Luka’s head wouldn’t stop.
It was there when he woke and it was there when he slept—the same melody, on repeat, ringing in his blood and pounding in his heart.
Her song. Marinette’s.
He tried to force it out or push it down or cover it up, but nothing worked. His fingers, so desperate to play something else, anything else, always found the same tune, hour after hour and day after day. The notes were seared so deeply into his brain that he could hum them in his sleep (and probably did). And even after all this time, they showed no sign of fading.
Some days, it was almost enough to drive him mad.
He remembered the day, just a week after, that he was interrupted by a timid knock on his cabin door.
“Are you OK?” Juleka mumbled. “You’ve been playing the same song for two hours.”
He gripped the guitar tighter. “It’s Marinette’s song.”
“Oh.”
She closed the door and left him once again alone with nothing but an unchaseable melody.
Maybe I was wrong to give up on us. Maybe it was a mistake to let her go. Maybe if I’d waited longer, she would’ve loved me.
His fingers slipped on the fret, and a clashing chord rang horribly in his ears. He groaned through gritted teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, clenching down on the neck of the guitar. Even the discordant notes didn’t make it stop. Her melody was a tattoo on the inside of his brain.
But … that day, at the park with Kagami, for the first time in nearly a month, it was quiet. It felt like the pause between songs on an album. He knew the next one was coming, but for a moment, there was silence. There was calm.
He carried that feeling with him all the way home, cradling it like it might shatter if he weren’t careful. Back in his cabin, with the door closed, he picked up his guitar and played a chord—a different chord, separate from Marinette’s song. And he breathed, deep and slow, for the first time since she had gone.
———————————
Over the next few days, he worked on a new song. Marinette’s melody was still there, but it was quieter now—not so commanding.
The memory of the evening at the park was still fresh in his mind. He let himself explore it with the strings of his guitar— a feeling as soft as a shadow, as firm as a stone. His fingers stumbled and struggled to find the notes, but he closed his eyes and tried to lose himself in that moment: the tree, the bench, the orange glow, the white silence. But still, something was missing.
Ding.
Luka’s eyes snapped open. The lockscreen of his phone lit up with a new message.
Hello.
He picked it up.
L: hi, may i ask who this is?
K: Kagami Tsurugi.
L: hey, Kagami! what’s up?
L: did you want to talk?
K: Yes.
K: Do you like orange juice?
L: ha, sure
K: There is a smoothie shop on Boulevard Saint-Germain. T he orange juice is very good.
L: nice- want to meet there?
K: Yes.
L: when?
K: I am free at 3:00 PM tomorrow.
L: sounds good. see you there
K: Thank you.
L: 👍
Luka closed his eyes and strummed a few more chords. There was something about this new song. He wasn’t quite sure what it was, but it was something. And he was determined to figure it out.
———————————
Luka swung off his bike and parked it outside of the smoothie shop.
Kagami was already sitting in the corner, back straight and hands folded neatly. Two glasses of orange juice sat on the table in front of her, untouched.
“Hey,” he said as he plopped into the seat opposite her. He set his guitar case on the floor and propped a foot onto it.
“You’re late.”
Luka shrugged. “Only by a few minutes.”
“Seven minutes. I’ve been waiting here for thirteen.”
“Oh … well, sorry.”
“I already got the orange juice.”
“I can see that.” A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
“You owe me four Euros. And forty cents.”
He dug in his pocket and placed the change on the table. “What did you want to talk about?”
She stared at him for a second. But then her gaze shifted to something behind him.
“You rode here?” she asked.
“Yeah. I was on my way back from a delivery.”
“A delivery? What do you deliver?”
“Pizza.”
“Oh.” She clutched at her glass of orange juice but didn’t take a sip.
“Are you OK?” he asked. “What did you want to tell me?”
Her amber eyes caught his, holding him in place. They were sharp like a knife. He could almost feel the sting of whatever she was holding back. His body tensed.
“You won’t like what I have to say,” she said.
“Try me.” He grabbed his glass and took a swig through the straw, trying to stay composed.
Kagami took a breath. “I broke up with Adrien.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“Because … he was in love with someone else.”
Luka looked down at the table. He was pretty sure he knew where this was going.
“Marinette,” she said. “Adrien is in love with Marinette.”
“I see.”
He swallowed and looked back up at Kagami. Her gaze was softer now, softer than he’d ever seen it.
He mustered a weak smile. “So he finally noticed, huh?”
“Noticed what?”
“How amazing Marinette is.”
Pain flashed across Kagami’s face. Luka felt it, sharp as a bite.
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean to offend. Sometimes, I … I have trouble saying what I mean.” His foot tapped nervously on top of his guitar case.
Kagami said nothing. She just stared into her glass as if the orange juice held all the answers.
He sighed. “If it’s worth anything, I know how you feel. I broke up with Marinette about a month ago, for the same reason. She’s … in love with someone else.”
“Adrien,” Kagami said softly.
He didn’t answer. Maybe Marinette was still in love with Adrien. Probably. But there was that other boy too. Her mysterious friend whose name he didn’t know. She loved him too. He was sure of it.
Luka twisted his bracelets around and around on his wrist. Marinette was in love with two boys. And neither of them was him. She had never loved him, not really, not fully. Not the way he had loved her. The way he still loved her.
The familiar ache yawned wide in his chest, and the music in his head threatened to split him open, raw and bleeding in front of all these strangers and this girl who was practically a stranger too.
But no. She wasn’t. Because the way she was looking at him told him that she knew. She understood, maybe better than anyone.
He took another gulp of juice.
“I’ll be happy for her if they end up together,” he said finally. The words hung in the air between them, feeling empty even to him. Maybe they were true when he said them before, but now, coming from his hollow chest, they had no more substance than one of XY’s phony remixes.
“Actually, no,” he whispered. “I won’t be happy. Not for a while.”
“Me neither.”
There was a long pause. Kagami finally took a drink and then put her glass down with a clank. “This sucks.”
Luka nearly snorted orange juice up his nose. It was a perfectly normal thing to say, but hearing it come from Kagami, with her neatly pressed clothes and her stiff-backed posture and her shiny hair without a strand out of place, he couldn’t keep from laughing.
“What’s so funny?” she asked.
Luka was still chuckling softly. “You’re a surprising person, Kagami.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
“It’s a good thing. And thanks.”
“For what?”
“For understanding. It really does suck.”
For the first time since he entered the shop, she smiled. It was the barest hint of a smile, with her lips just slightly lifted at the corners, but it was a smile, and it erased all of her sharp edges and made her whole face go soft.
Later that night, with the light of the moon streaming through the porthole in his cabin, Luka remembered that smile. Bittersweet, he thought. Like a lemon. No—like an orange.
Orange light, orange juice, orange girl.
He took out his notebook and scribbled a title at the top of the page where he had been planning the new song.
Orange.
#mine#my fics#lukagami#miraculous ladybug#luka couffaine#kagami tsurugi#kagami#luka#luka x kagami#kagami x luka#ml fics#ml fic#ml fanfics#ml fanfiction
100 notes
·
View notes
Text
@enbymagicianweek Day 3, Transcendent Love: Apprentice Meeting their LI and falling in love
Not a first meeting or a confession of love, but a short story about Talis thinking about their feelings for Muriel from a conversation with Morga.
900 words, Muriel x Talis
Three travelers sat huddled around a fire in the dead of night. They had reached the northern border of the Scourgelands, and each night the air got more frigid and hard to stand. Two of the three companions were sitting as close to the fire as they could without fear of singing their clothes. The third watched them with something of a silent and reluctant amusement shining in her eyes.
“You two still look rather cold,” she mused from her own place across the fire.
“The fire’s too low,” Muriel’s voice rumbled in the darkness. “You didn’t gather enough wood to last the night.”
“I did, but for a fire built to my own standards.” Morga sighed, “I won’t be offended if you need to make it bigger. I know neither of you are accustomed to this weather as I am.”
“I’ll go,” Muriel grunted as he unfurled his frozen limbs, locked up from the cold.
“I can go help you look,” Talis, the third companion started to follow the larger man’s ascent.
“It’s fine. You should stay here and keep warm.” Muriel’s eyes softened at them for a moment before he turned from the fire and ventured out towards the line of trees in the distance. Talis watched him go until his form was swallowed up by the dark of night.
When they couldn’t see him anymore, Talis turned his attention back to Morga. “I’ve been meaning to ask,” they started, “what exactly will we found in the South? You never said what was so important there.”
Morga was silent for a long moment, the air growing thick around the two of them as Talis waited patiently for her answer. Her gaze flickered over to where Muriel had disappeared before she responded. “Will you take care of him when we get there?”
A little taken aback by her reply, it took a moment for Talis to find their voice. “I, well…yes? But what does that have to do with anything? Is there something in the South he needs to be worried about?”
“It’s just a hunch I have.” Morga shrugged, though her eyes help another kind of heaviness Talis couldn’t quite explain. “Nothing concrete, but I’ve learned to trust my gut for these kinds of things.”
“…I’ll take good care of him. Whatever we find down there.”
Morga’s eyes shifted to meet Talis’, softening as she saw the understanding in their deep blue ones.
“Good. He needs someone like you to watch out for him.”
“Muriel can take care of himself,” Talis started.
“I don’t mean physically,” Morga’s lips curled up into a small smirk, and Talis blushed in response.
“I-, he-…it’s not really like that…”
“Oh?” Morga’s eyebrow quirked up. “It isn’t? Well pardon me, then.”
“Pardon you for what?” Muriel reappeared at that moment, his arms full of fallen branches. Talis jumped at the sight and sound of him, hoping he didn’t hear much more of their conversation.
“It’s nothing,” Morga waved it off. “Just going to see myself to sleep.” She sighed as she stood, moving herself even farther from the campfire.
“Wait, where are you going?” Talis called after her.
“Don’t worry about me. And you two need to be able to take care of yourselves for one night anyway. Sometimes I wonder why I agreed to take you two south at all…” Morga’s voice trailed off as she wandered into the darkness. Talis was about to get up and go after her, but was stopped when Muriel sat down next to them.
“She’ll be fine.”
“I know she will,” Talis rested their head on Muriel’s arm. “She just said something strange to me before you came back.”
“Hm? What did she say?” Muriel shifted, pulling Talis closer arn wrapping his arm around their smaller frame.
Talis blushed at the proximity. Both of them were slow to start opening up more with each other physically, and so even though it was always welcome, Talis always found themselves at a loss when Muriel took the initiative.
“She said…” they thought back to her words, and the implication of those words. To take care of Muriel…of course they could. How could they not? Muriel had done nothing but take care of them since the very beginning. He deserved the same in return. He deserved someone who would be there with him, who wouldn’t let him live his life alone. Someone to hold his hands, to hold him in his sleep, to watch him while-
“Talis?” Muriel nudged them, breaking them out of their trail of mushy thoughts. “You’re getting that glazed look in your eyes again, are you alright?”
Talis looked up into Muriel’s green eyes, seeing nothing but softness and affection held inside. Staring up at him made their heart swell a little more than they would have liked, and they had to break their gaze away to stop themself from melting into a mess right then and there.
“Yeah, sorry. I, ah…actually forgot what she told me.”
“Ok…” Muriel obviously didn’t believe them. But he pulled them closer just the same.
Maybe Morga wasn’t too far off…maybe it wasn’t like that yet. But…as Talis rested his head against Muriel’s chest, pressing closer for warmth, they knew. Love was a strong word. Stronger than either Talis or Muriel would use in this situation. But if Talis were honest, they would say that yes...they were falling in the right direction. And they could only hope that Muriel would stick around to catch them when that time came.
#apprentice talis#enbymcweek2020#my oc#my mc#my apprentice#nb apprentice#muriel#morga#muriel's route#my writing#the arcana fanfic#the arcana#the arcana fanfiction#short story
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
N7 15 and 16 - Friends and Compassion
Summary: You know... it’s a good thing Alistair Shepard is a paragon, because he can be a creepy bastard when the lights are out. Unfortunately, the crew of the Normandy is about to figure that out the hard way... after all, on the field of war there’s no room for compassion.
(Close up mentions of people getting shot.)
---
The sound was getting closer. Damn it, they were boxed in and low on ammo. Talk about being between a rock and a hard place
“Scars, you see him?”
“No... it's clear for now. Scanner's not picking anything up.”
James and Garrus were barely breathing as they kept their weapons drawn in the tiny room. It was almost pitch black, and their feeble lights did little to dispel the darkness. Worst of all was the noise – the subtle, scratching, skittering of something drawing close.
A few more seconds, and he would be on top of them. Then what would they do? They only had a few shots left each...
Best to make them count.
“Keep your back to the wall...” Garrus had his finger on the trigger as he swept around. “He can't get both of u-”
And then he went down with a burst of red light straight to the face that caught James off guard with how sudden it had been The man dove, trying to fire off a shot, but soon there was a muzzle of a gun aimed straight at him as well. One blast, and it was all over. Then the skittering returned as the figure in black accessed a vent panel.
2 down...
---
“How did we get dragged into this?”
Who knows... but the scanner wasn't picking anything up.
Tali tapped her wrist as they walked along the corridor, her flashlight trained on the floor. Beside her, Kaidan was doing the same. Both their hearts were beating rapidly as they peered into the darkness. All they saw was the dim red glow of emergency lights, directing them to the exit.
So close...
A sudden blip on the radar caused the quarian to snap her weapon up. “Get ready, he's-”
A red dot appeared on her face mask, and then she went down without a sound. Kaidan wheeled around, raising his weapon. However, he was too slow. The figure was under his arms now, aiming the gun directly at his jaw.
They dropped him like a sack of potatoes. The last thing Kaidan saw was a side panel opening up and the figure skittering away, their gun still glowing red. Then there was nothing but the darkness that surrounded them.
4 down.
---
“This is fucking bullshit.”
“You can say that again.”
Liara and Jack were an unlikely pair, still not quite sure how they had been roped into this. For the most part, they had avoided the carnage. As they walked, in the distance they saw the harsh red of muzzle fire and the sound of it hitting its target. Then there was nothing but the darkness closing in on them.
“Where the fuck is he?” Jack glared over at her asari companion. “That damn scanner picking him up or what?”
Liara shook her head as she tapped at it, the soft blue illuminating the darkness around her fingers but not much else. “No... all it shows is that there's some bodies in the next room. We look to be the only ones left for now.”
The human scowled as she checked her weapon clip – she still had enough to blow a hole in something. “Damn it... who knew he was such a fucking psycho?”
Not them, which was why every soft sound drew their attention. When they rounded the corner, it was with precision. Luckily, there was nothing there but empty corridor. However, neither of them rested easy. They had seen what had become of their former teammates in the last room.
Shot in the face... what a way to go.
“Alright, which way we going next?” Jack kept her gun level in case of a forward attack. “The path branches off up ahead.”
Liara frowned as she prodded the screen. “Not sure... I'm not seeing anyone in either route. We went right last time...”
Then her voice fell as the soft sound of skittering drew both their attention. They glanced around, flashlights trying to find the sound. Then it fell silent. They could hear the beating of their hearts as they turned to face each other, knuckles white on their weapons.
“Aw, fuck... he's in the vents isn't he?”
Jack's obscenities was answered by a furious flurry of gunfire erupting from a panel that had slid open right next to her head. She dodged the first, but the second and third took her down. This left Liara alone, pinned against the wall. She raised her hands and tried to dodge, but the gun was all but pressed against her forehead.
She saw the blue of his eyes as he fired... then nothing as he fled back into the vents he had been using to hide.
6 down.
---
EDI was the last, split off from the rest early on. Unlike the others, she had no nerves to fray. Instead, there was the calm, cold certainty as she swept through the empty halls, gun cocked and ready for firing. With a machine's precision, she had only fired twice.
That left plenty of rounds for her opponent.
“I know you're close. The scanner may not pick up your body signals, but I can.”
She received no answer. The hallway was deadly quiet. She could hear distant gunfire – other teams were being dispatched. Numbers were dwindling fast. Maybe she was the only one left. Something about that made her grip her gun tighter as she crept around the corner.
Nothing but dim red lights and silence. Oh... and what looked like a bullet hole in the wall with a lot of red.
“He was here.”
A skittering in the distance drew her attention. EDI didn't run after the sound, though. Instead, she closed her eyes and tried to triangulate the source. It sounded hollow, echoed. Probably using a passageway she hadn't found.
But that made him the rat in the trap, and she held the bullets.
“There you are!” She fired at the wall, catching a panel as it opened. However, no groan escaped. Instead, the skittering continued. It was only then EDI realized she had walked into a dead end, probably led by her opponent stringing her along. For a machine... that was pretty embarrassing.
Almost as embarrassing as getting shot in the leg.
Her weight went out from under her as EDI fell, gun dropping from her hands. She tried to pick it up, but a shadowy hand scooped up her rifle and tossed it out of her reach. Then she saw the blue eyes and the barrel of a gun, pointed directly at her.
“You're right. Here I am.”
Then they fired two shots and disappeared into the wall before she could do anything about it. The last thing EDI saw before the darkness closed in was the wall panel closing behind them with a slight hiss. Then there was nothing.
7 down. One to go.
---
2 down, one to go.
Bo gripped the handle of her gun as she glanced around. Unlike the others, she was calm as she waited. By now, her opponent would have realized what was going on. They had probably long since realized she had left her area and gone on the move.
Her count wasn't nearly as high, but she hadn't been aiming for that.
“Come on, now. Let's finish this, just you and me.”
A soft hissing in the distance indicated a panel had opened. Bo kept her finger on the trigger as the figure in black made their entrance. Their gun was glowing, and so were their eyes as they smirked in the gloom.
“Always figured it be the two of us. How about we have a little fun? Whoever shoots first on three?”
Bo nodded as she raised her gun. “I'm counting. I saw what you did to Tali.”
“Fine by me. It was her fault for not looking.” Their gun raised too. “Alright then... count away. But if you try anything, you're dead.”
Red eyes met blue there in the gloom as the figures faced off. Bo's finger twitched on the trigger as she took aim the same time her opponent did. All that was left now was to start the countdown. Problem was, she could see their finger twitching just as much.
So, it was only naturally they both fired before she even got to one.
Suddenly, the lights were on. The previously dark room was now well illuminated and painted in garish colors. Normally, those would have showed up in the black light, but they had signed up for the special nighttime route. According to the brochure, it had been modified for maximum darkness to emulate an actual hunt.
In front of her, Alistair chuckled as he removed his headset. “So, did you win or did I?”
“Not sure, I think we hit each other at the same time.” Their scores were already showing – he led the whole room in points. “Damn, how many head shots did you pull off to get a score like that?”
The redhead all but beamed with pride as he took a picture with his omni-tool. “Well, let's see... I got Garrus, Tali, not sure if Kaidan counted...does it count if you press the gun to their forehead, or is that just regular close range?”
Bo snorted as they left the room, returning to the lobby. “Who the fuck did you do that to and why do I want to laugh my ass off at them?”
The answer came with a rather bemused looking Liara, waiting with the rest of the group outside. Once they had been dead, that's where they had been made to wait. In front of them played highlights from the last round and the myriad of ways in which they had been murdered.
“I still think it's cheating, Skipper.” Ashley almost sounded like she was pouting. “Nobody else could fit into the vents.”
Alistair beamed as he returned his gun to the clerk behind the desk. “Consider it my advantage. Besides, I didn't shoot you.”
“That was me. You walked right past where I was hiding. Think I got a head shot.”
The two Shepards exchanged high fives as the rest of the group groaned. Late night laser kill had been their idea as part of a fun way to destress during shore leave. Honestly, the whole concept was flawed – half of them actually had been shot before, some in the face. Doing it for fun just seemed weird, but it was rare for either Spectre to ever want something.
Now the crew of the Normandy understood why – they were fucking sharks.
“Commander kicked all your asses.” Joker had gotten a prime view of the carnage from his seat. He looked comfortably into his drink as he nodded to EDI affectionately. “I thought you had a chance though, he looked a little slow.”
The AI at least had the grace to seem embarrassed by being taken out by an organic. “I miscalculated his aim and the rate of fire.”
“Oh, that's because I stole a mod off Garrus' corpse that can turn your pistol into an assault rifle.” Alistair sounded rather proud of that. “It was sparkling when we got in, so I knew someone had to have it. Just needed to figure out which one.”
Ok, it was pretty clear they were never coming here with the Normandy's CO ever again. For such a calm guy, he played to fucking kill. Too bad he wasn't like that with an actual gun – they might actually outrun the Reapers.
Then again, with real bullet he was more into diplomacy. They could respect that.
The turian definitely looked embarrassed as his mandibles flapped. “Is that why you shot me in the face?”
“Head shots are worth more, babe.” Clearly not sorry, Alistair gestured in front of them as they left the arena. “Anyway, there's a really good pizza place around here. They have dextro too.”
Bo was next to him, clearly pleased as well. “It's a good thing Kelly keeps dragging us to this every time we're on the Citadel. Pretty sure Kaidan almost hit you.”
They argued about that as the rest of the Normandy realized just how badly they had been had by the Spectre and his uncle experience. Still, all things considered it wasn't a bad mood. You know, besides the image burnt into their minds of the commander skittering around in the vents, then popping out to shoot them in the face.
That wasn't going to cause any nightmares. Not at all.
“You know... I'm kinda glad that's not your normal mode, loco. That bastard's kinda scary.”
And then Alistair grinned in a way that made the humans of the group consider if the bastard wasn't still there. “Hey, you know the rules. No mercy or compassion in laser kill. Now, what kind of pizza are we getting?”
“Don't forget the garlic knots, they're killer here.”
“I think I got a coupon for them for beating the daily head shot challenge in laser kill...”
And then the matter was dropped in favor of pizza and making fun of the ones who had died too quickly. By the end of the night, pulling an Alenko was going to become a thing. In a weird way, it had been relaxing.
But man, they were lucky the CO was a paragon of virtue. He could be a creepy little bastard when he wanted to be.
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
TIVALI
16.2- Family is more than just DNA
Nick was on the front yard to take a call. Once he hung up his phone Tony walked out from the house. They both sat on the stairs under the porch. Tony spoke first:
-"So how's life going at NCIS ?"
-"fine, things are great"
-"what about Bishop ?"
-"ahh.. she's fine.."
-"it's not what I meant.."
-"oh come on! You too ? Ziva already tried !"
Tony laughed:
-"why do you think I'm here ? Look, she just want to help ok, she don't want you to do the same mistakes we did"
-"you and Ziva was different ok"
-"no it wasn't. I know how you feel, I've been there too and look at me now I have 2 beautiful children with a woman I love. I was scared that I would ruin everything. All the women I ever had in my life disappeared: they died or they left me and I thought that the problem was me. It did not wanted that for Ziva. I preferred to spend my life looking at her from my desk rather than spending one night with her and losing her forever. And guess what... I almost lost her anyway. Because I took the wrong decision. One decision can change everything. You will not ruin anything if you do the right choice"
Nick stayed quiet and finally asked:
-"it's that simple ?"
-"it's simple if you want it to be simple"
-"you would do things differently if you had the chance ?"
-"oh man you have no idea. Tali would have been there since a long time if I had been brave enough"
Tony rose his beer and said:
-"to the beautiful women of NCIS who stole our hearts"
Nick repeated:
-"to the beautiful women of NCIS"
Nick and Tony took some time to enjoy their beers quietly, away from everyone until Ellie appeared behind them. Tony took advantage of it and abandoned Nick. It was time for him to make a choice. On his way back inside the house he winked at Ellie who looked confused. She came to sit next to Nick on the stairs:
-"hey! I was looking for you, I thought you had left. What were you two doing down here ?"
-"we were talking"
-"talking about ?"
Nick turned to look at Ellie. He was looking at her deeply but she did not noticed it:
-"about the choice we make"
-"oh woah, it almost sound like a grown up talk. And what choice are we talking about here ?"
-"you don't need to know"
-"oh ok.. I see, I thought we were telling each other things but..."
-"shut up.. you are ruining it"
-"what ? What I am ruining ?"
-"me, trying not to be a wuss"
Ellie was even more confused:
-"What are you talking abo....."
She did not had time to finish her sentence before Nick's lips were pressed on her. His heart was beating so fast that he feared that she could feel it through his chest. He had no idea what he should do next. His only plan was to improvise. This could be the beginning of something very beautiful or very awkward. Their kiss came to an end as both needed some oxygen. Ellie still in complete shock asked:
-"can I speak now ?"
-"no"
-"ok"
And they resumed their kissing for long minutes.
They stood quietly together under the porch for long minutes until Ellie asked:
-"you think they are spying on us right now ?"
-"no doubt they are"
Inside the house, Tony was spying on them through the window. Ziva walked in and asked:
-"what are you doing ?"
-"shhh ! look !"
Ziva looked through the window and saw Ellie and Nick kissing each other. She proudly smile and then she punched Tony's arm and whispered:
-"stop spying on them ! Give them some privacy"
Tony complained:
-"you are spying on them too"
-"it's not the same" she paused "I do it with kindness"
Tony, still whispering:
-"oh excuse me miss benevolence 2020"
McGee walked in:
-"hey, what are you doing ?"
Both Ziva and Tony shouted:
-"SHHHHH!"
McGee was confused. He walked closer and looked at the scene:
-"oh really ! not again !"
Tony head slapped McGee and asked:
-"What's wrong with you ?"
McGee sighed:
-"it's happening again ! I've had to work with you for years, flirting and playing grab ass every day ! Do you know what it's like to be the third wheel every day? And here we go again. It's gonna be like working with two teenagers full of hormones again"
Ziva and Tony looked at each other and Ziva said:
-"we were not playing grab ass!"
Both Tony and McGee looked at her with sceptic eyes:
-"Don't mind him Ziva, he is just an old killjoy"
They both walked away from the window. Before leaving the room Tony turned back to face McGee and repeated:
-"McKilljoy !"
McGee sighed again.
When Tony and Ziva walked back to the living room, Abby was holding Adam in her arms. Tali rushed to her parents and said:
-"look what auntie Abby offered to me and Adam !"
She held a stuffed Giraffe up in front of her and then she squeezed it. The giraffe farted and Tony and Ziva looked at it without knowing how to react. Ziva spoke first:
-"Abby, this is .... nice from you. You shouldn't have"
Tony added:
-"who knew that bert the hippo wasn't the last of her kind"
Ziva nudged him and frowned. Tali squeezed the stuffed giraffe again and burst out laughing. Tony commented
-"yeah, I am sure people on the plane are gonna love this too"
Tali was very excited about the gift but it was more because it was a gift from her favorite aunt. Abby could have offered her a broken pencil, Tali would have cherish it as if it was the most beautiful pencil in the world:
-"look ! Adam got a Lion !"
She squeezed Adam's lion and of course it made the same awkward sound as the giraffe before. Tony said:
-"and it farts too... it keeps getting better and better"
Tony whispered into Ziva's ears:
-"it's going to be a very awkward flight back to Paris"
Ziva kept smiling to abby and whispered to Tony:
-"remind me to hide those things in our luggage before we leave ok"
-"copy that"
Adam was holding the lion against his chest and Abby was looking so proud:
-"look Adam loves it so much already. He don't want to leave it"
Both Ziva and Tony nervously laughed and both added:
-"ah ah, yeah great... this is great..."
The night went on. The men were on the basement, playing poker, drinking whisky and talking about women while the women were upstairs drinking wine and talking about men.
In the basement:
Tony had his tie tied around his head, rambo style, and he was quoting some movies with his deep voice to distract McGee. One could have thought that he was pretty intoxicated by whisky but he was just being Anthony DiNozzo:
-"COME ON ELF LORD ! Show me what you got !"
McGee laid his cards on the table with a proud smile:
-"two pair"
Tony looked at it with disappointment. McGee smiled proudly and said:
-"I knew you were bluffing !"
Tony looked at his cards, still with disappointment and said:
-"well maybe I was right all these years.." he paused, everyone looked at him with confused eyes and he continued "maybe I was right to say that I am a better investigator than you" he jumped from his chair and pushed it away, laid his card on the table and shouted "BECAUSE I WAS NOT BLUFFING AT ALL !!!!! FULL HOUSE BABY!!!"
McGee cursed. It was the fourth time tonight that Tony was beating him.
-"you can't beat me Probie, I am your Nemesis"
The girls upstairs heard Tony's screams. Natasha, senior's fiancé, looked worried. Ziva smiled and said:
-"don't worry, it just means that Tony won, you're gonna get used to it"
She really had married a kid.
Ellie suggested:
-"we should really get them out of there before one of them ends up broke or worse... naked.
A few days after thanksgiving, Tony and Ziva had left the children at McGee's house for the afternoon. Tony asked:
-"where are you taking me ?"
-"Stop asking questions, we will be there soon"
After ten minutes, Ziva parked the car in front of a house. She stopped the engine and looked at Tony:
-"this is it"
Tony was confused:
-"what do you mean this is it ?"
Ziva stepped out of the car and Tony followed her to the house in front of which they were parked. She opened the house and let him get inside. Tony was starting to understand what Ziva was trying to tell him. He smiled and asked:
-"do you have a warrant ? I am just asking because the last time we entered a house like this we ended up being handcuffed to each other and I still think that you really enjoyed that"
-"maybe I did, you'll never know"
Tony walked through the empty house. He said:
-"this is a nice house"
-"this could be ours"
Tony thoughts were right. He asked:
-"what about Paris ? You love Paris"
Ziva took a deep breath and started:
-"yes I love Paris. But Paris is taking me back to the reason why we are living there and not here. You went living in Paris to protect our family. Our family is safe. Being there with everyone reminded me of old times. You love your american life and I know you miss it."
Tony was trapped. He could only admit that she was right. He asked:
-"what about Tali ?"
-"Tali is still young. She'll get through this. And she will get to spend more time with McGee and Gibbs. I want my children to be surrounded by a family that we have made for ourselves"
-"the family cloud ?"
Ziva smiled in remembrance:
-"the family cloud"
Tony looked as if he was taking some time to think about it when he had actually agreed to this idea since the beginning and then said:
-"alright but I want to turn the basement into a movie room"
#ncis#tiva#tony dinozzo#ziva david#tali david dinozzo#cotedepablo#michaelweatherly#fanfiction#ncis fanfiction#tivali
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
The History of Us
Here it is. About 1500 words of what was supposed to be a short redo of the “I loved her, Tim” scene that became something else entirely. Enjoy, comment, let me know how I did! :)
“Were you an item this whole time?” Tony and McGee sat on a bench in the courtyard, McGee doing what he could to process everything that had happened in the last 24 hours. Tony sat staring off into the distance, and McGee sat watching Tony.
“You know that summer Gibbs was gone?”
McGee nodded.
“I went to her apartment every night.”
“Every night?!” Did you…I mean…” McGee trailed off.
“We have a kid, Tim. What do you think?”
McGee shook his head, trying to wrap his mind around the whole incredible, sad, confusing situation. After a moment of silence, Tony continued.
“I loved her, Tim.”
“I know you did.”
“I liked her before that summer, of course. There was certainly a, ah, mutual attraction there.”
McGee rolled his eyes. “Don’t have to tell me,” he muttered.
Tony continued as if he hadn’t heard him. “But after that summer…after that summer, everything changed. The flirting wasn’t just for fun anymore. I meant it.”
McGee thought about it for a minute. “Then why date EJ Barrett? If you knew you loved Ziva? I mean, you went halfway around the world to avenger her ‘death.’”
“And I didn’t plan on coming back from that,” Tony said bluntly. “But as for EJ, think about it. You’re the soon-to-be Very Special Senior Field Agent. You know why.”
A realization dawned on McGee. “Ray. She was dating Ray, and we all thought they were going to get engaged. You were waiting for her, until you thought she was absolutely taken and you had no chance.”
Tony nodded. “I’ll admit, the thing with EJ was more about looking for someone, anyone who would have me for comfort. It was never anything real. I was hurt. I just wanted to feel wanted by anyone.”
McGee shook his head. “And what about Zoe? She was the only real girlfriend you’ve had in the entire time I’ve known you.”
“I thought I was finally ready to move on then. Did you notice anything about her in particular?”
“Well…I didn’t want to say this at the time, but…she kind of reminded me of Ziva.”
“Me too.”
McGee let that realization sit for minute. Finally, he had to ask. “So why did you never tell Ziva?”
“I wanted to. And I tried. After Harper Dearing, after the elevator, and Ray, and everything, I tried. I told her about my mom. I let her keep my boarding school picture on her computer because I liked how it made her smile when she looked at it. I brought her the freaking opera, McGee! One of the big three!” Tony had turned to look at McGee now. “And I think she was starting to understand, starting to get it. We were finally making progress. And then that night happened. The Ziva I had gotten to know shut down, disappeared. I found her in the chapel here on the Navy Yard, talking to God. I listened for a few minutes. She asked for a sign, so I chose then to walk in and check on her.”
Tony looked down at the stroller in front of him. “I got my Ziva back, briefly, in Berlin. You should have seen us on that dance floor, McGee. I don’t know if I’ve ever been in a more intimate moment, except for the night we made Tali. She looked drunk in love with me. I probably looked the same at her, actually.” Tony trailed off for a minute, reliving that dance.
“She got Bodnar, eventually. My Ziva came back again, for a short time, after that. Did you know she invited me to come to Israel, after we quit?”
“I always thought you chased her like you always do.”
Looking back at McGee, Tony frowned. “I chase her?”
“Yeah, Tony. You chase her.”
“Huh. Guess I do. But yeah, she invited me. Told me she was thinking about me, sent me virtual hugs and kisses, encouraged me to come.”
“How long hand you been with her when we finally talked?”
“Not long. Long enough though for Ziva to have already changed her mind about me coming. We talked, and argued, and yelled, and talked, and argued, and yelled some more. I think I knew the whole time she wasn’t coming back with me. But I had to try. One thing led to another and then…” Tony nodded toward the stroller. “If I had known, Tim. If I had known I would have been there in a heartbeat.”
“I know you would have.” The Israeli accent took both agents by surprise. Spinnning around, both agents jaws dropped to see Ziva standing against a tree behind them, watching and, apparently, listening. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks as she took them in.
Tony stammered. “You’re…you’re alive? I thought – I hoped. I was going to come looking. How much have you heard? Tony swallowed.
“Enough to know that you have loved me for a very, very long time. And that I did not do nearly enough to show you that I love you, too.”
Leaving McGee with Tali, Tony walked around the bench to stand in front of Ziva. Taking his hand in hers, Ziva gazed at Tony softly, taking in the man she had loved for so long.
“I am sorry, but I have to make this short. I am in danger. We all are in danger actually. There is something I need to do, something I must do alone, to protect all of us. But once it is done, we can be together and be a family, if…if that is what you want,” she faltered.
“What I want?” Tony removed his hands from Ziva’s, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his forehead against hers. Ziva’s arms came to rest around his neck. “There is nothing in this world that I want more,” he whispered. “I love you, Ziva.”
Ziva smiled, a smile reserved just for him. “I love you too, Tony.” With that they closed the space between them, sealing the moment with a kiss that was sweet and wanting and left them both breathless. Ziva pulled back first, keeping her arms around Tony’s neck.
“Take Tali and wait for me in Paris. I will keep in contact when I can, but I do not want you knowing where I am for your safety. If someone came calling for me…I cannot lose you, Tony. Not again.”
“Me either. How long will you be gone?”
“I do not know. I will work as quickly as I can.”
Tony sighed. “Okay.” He took a deep breath. “Okay, single parenthood here I come. I can do this.”
Ziva smiled up at him. “There is no one in the world I trust more.” Tony gave her another quick peck on the lips for that.
Pulling away to take his hands one more time, Ziva gave Tony one last once over, committing the moment to memory. “I really must go now. I have already stayed longer than I planned. Remember, I love you, Tony. And if you ever forget, just look at our daughter. I am sorry you are just now finding out about her. I promise I will explain and apologize, and explain and apologize again if I must, once our family is truly safe. Can you trust me on that?”
Tony’s mouth quirked up in a grin, a grin that always drove Ziva crazy. The number of times she had thought about crossing the bullpen and kissing that grin right off of his face was far too many times to be appropriate. “There’s no one else I trust more, Sweetcheeks.”
Ziva smiled. “I will talk to you soon, if I can.” With one last kiss to Tony’s lips, Ziva was gone again.
Tony turned to McGee, who was munching on a Nutter Butter and entertaining Tali, pretending not to listen in on his friends. “Alright, McEavesdropper. What do you have to say?”
“She didn’t even notice I was here!”
“Well, to be fair, I kind of forgot you were here for a second there too. Seeing the love of your life who was supposed to have died 24 hours earlier tends to do that to a person.”
“So, what are you going to do?”
“You heard her. I’m going to take Tali and head to Paris. Maybe call Senior. Raise Tali until I know what’s next, I guess. That was basically the plan anyway.”
“You two always were in sync.”
“And Tim, you know you can’t tell anyone about what you just saw. Not even Gibbs.”
“I know, Tony. You’re secret is safe with me.”
“Thanks. Now,” Tony turned to Tali, his best excited dad voice on. “Who wants to go meet Grandpa Gibbs?”
#it's been a while since i've written ncis#i feel like everyone is still mostly in character though#please let me know what you think!#tiva#tony dinozzo#ziva david#tali david dinozzo#timothy mcgee
86 notes
·
View notes
Text
an audience of one
YES i’ve created a monster and wrote tiva family fluff instead of doing homework. takes place vaguely after the reunion. shoutout to whoever made that headcannon about tony giving tali nicknames i don’t remember who you are but i loved it so i kinda ran with it a bit. also on AO3
--
There was something about an empty apartment that Ziva found incredibly calming. Maybe it was the promise of a new beginning, the lack of any baggage, physical or metaphorical. Maybe it was the way the wood floors seemed to shine under the sunlight coming through the windows, making the room glow in the soft light of the DC sunset.
Or maybe it was the fact that she was there with Tony and Tali, and that as of a few days ago, the place was officially theirs.
“Alright,” Tony said, looking down at his phone. They all sat on the floor, the three of them surrounding a nearly empty pizza box. “The Paris furniture and extra boxes are on their way as we speak. We should be sleeping in beds and cooking real food in no time.”
“But I like eating pizza on the floor!” Tali said, and Ziva couldn’t help but laugh.
“I do too, kid, but we can’t show Ima our insane cooking skills if all we eat is pizza, can we?”
“Oh, I would love to see what kind of meals you’ve been living off of these past few years,” Ziva said with a smile, and Tony gave her that look, the one with fire in his eyes and unspoken suggestions in his smile. She’d spent far too long ignoring that look.
“Hey, Little T,” he said, eyes lingering on Ziva before they turned to Tali. “Why don’t you go look through the couple of boxes we do have and see if you can find anything fun you want us to do tonight?”
She nodded, running off into what would soon become her bedroom. Ziva waited until she heard the door shut before turning toward him. “Little T?”
“Yeah, I don’t know,” he said sheepishly. “Not my best work, I’ll admit.”
“No, it’s cute.” She smiled. “Where did it come from?”
“Her name never sounded right coming from me.” She frowned at his words. “It’s just,” he added quickly, “you always had a way of saying it that just, I don’t know, elevated it. I could never match your accent, and it felt...sacrilegious, to have her hear it in any way other than the way it was meant to be heard.”
“Oh.”
“It’s kind of become a running joke, now,” he said with a soft smile, staring at the room Tali had entered. “I’m always coming up with more and more ridiculous nicknames. I think she likes it, especially now that she has someone to show her the beauty of her actual name.”
“Glad we’ve got that established, then,” Ziva said. She hadn’t thought this far, hadn’t wondered how parenting with someone else would be, now that she’d lost so much time. What if her and Tony only worked as a maybe, as something better in idea than in practice? What if they knew how to be together, but not how to raise a child? What if they’d both gotten used to single parenthood, and adding another person sent the whole thing crashing and burning, and her coming back only did more damage than good? What if her very presence was just the start of her ruining the lives of the two most important people in the world?
“You know, we really did do everything out of order,” Tony said, knocking her out of her own head and back into the moment. She looked at him, and could have sworn that he could hear just what thoughts were running through her head. Even after all this time, he still knew her better than anyone.
“We did, didn’t we?”
“I mean, we went from years of pining, to me chasing you halfway across the earth, to a magical one night stand ending in a goodbye that I’ve definitely seen in a Hallmark movie before, to a kid? And a kid that we’ve never actually raised together?”
Ziva laughed, even though her heart sank at the thought of all their wasted time, of her own self-destructive choices. “You know,” she said, ignoring the list of missed opportunities that haunted her memory. “I don’t think you’ve ever asked me out.”
“Come on, I definitely asked you out at least once in the past decade.”
“Nope. I distinctly recall that the few times we…spent time together, way back when,” she said with a coy smile, “it was me who made the first move.”
“Well, I’m not sure I would consider anything we did from that first summer as a date,” he said quietly, giving her a look that made her want to make him remember just how they’d spent their time all those years ago, that summer after they’d first met. And a couple summers after that. And that last time in Israel.
“Either way, the fact is that I believe you, Anthony DiNozzo, owe me a date.”
“Where do you want to go? On this momentous first date of ours?” He laughed, then said, “I’d take you anywhere, you know,” and he was still smiling but he'd lost the joking tone he spoke with earlier. “I’d fly back to Paris if you wanted to.”
“I would love to see the opera,” she sighed. “Would love to take Tali there.”
“I’ll book tickets as soon as we get WiFi installed.”
“Are you sure?”
“If we wait too long, we won’t be able to get good seats, Ziva.”
“No,” she shook her head. “I mean...with us, and with Tali now, there’s so much more to think about.”
“...And? What does that have to do with the opera?”
“What if we try...this,” she said, motioning between the two of them, “and it doesn’t work?”
“You really think that’ll happen?”
“Of course not, but we don’t have just ourselves to think about anymore, Tony. What if we crash and burn, and Tali is left to suffer the consequences?”
“We won’t let that happen.”
“I’m just saying,” she said. “I think we should ease into this. Move slowly.”
“Slowly?” He laughed as if he couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth, and she never wanted to hear that sound ever again. “This hasn’t been slow enough for you?”
“That’s not what I meant—“
“Because I think we’ve spent enough time waiting, and I for one—.”
“You think I don’t want you?” She asked, and he froze, mouth open, words dying on the tip of his tongue. “More than anything, I want to dive head first into this, into us. But I would never forgive myself if we try and rush something and end up ruining it, and then Tali gets stuck with parents who can’t stand each other.”
“You know that’s the last thing I want,” he said, voice serious and smile gone.
“Good. Me too.”
“But Ziva, we can’t just tiptoe around one another again. I don’t think I’ll survive it, being this close to you without getting to touch you. Without getting to kiss you. I can’t hide my feelings anymore, not even if I wanted to.”
“Neither can I,” She said, “which is why I have absolutely no idea what to do. How to do...this.”
“Yeah,” he sighed, laying back until he was fully extended on the hard floor. She followed suit, and for a moment they stayed there, side by side, the sounds of the city softly surrounding them
“Hey Ziva,” He said after a moment. “Why did it take us so long? If we both knew how we felt, and we both suspected the other felt the same, why didn’t we ever do anything?”
“I don’t know about you,” she said, eyes still staring up at the ceiling, “but I know that I valued your friendship too much to risk losing it at the chance of something more. I thought, better to have part of you than none of you.”
“I felt the same exact way.” He turned to face her, and she turned too, until they were laying on their sides, faces inches away from one another. “I mean, I’ve never had anything quite like what we had, and we didn’t have anything more than a — well, than whatever it was. Friendship, I guess, but it always felt deeper than that. I couldn’t act with you the way I did with anyone else, because I knew almost from the moment I met you that you weren’t like anyone else.”
“Almost from the moment you met me?”
“Well, let’s say that first conversation left me a bit off guard. Didn’t know quite what to feel back then.”
“Oh, you mean when I caught you having phone sex?” She whispered in his ear, and she laughed at the way he still blushed, even after all this time.
“Hush with that language,” he whispered back, and she didn’t know how it was possible for them to get closer, but here he was, lips just a breath away from hers, and she found it nearly impossible to keep her eyes away from them. “There’s a child in the house.”
“Our child,” she whispered back, and they stayed there, neither of them so much as breathing. She felt as if time stood still, slowed down all around them. Her gaze drifted from his eyes down to his lips and back up again, and he arched an eyebrow just slightly. The invitation was there, and she knew he’d wait for her, leave the choice in her hands. All she had to do was jump.
The sound of footsteps running down the hall broke the moment, sent them each leaning back just slightly. She blinked, as if waking up from a dream, and he did the same.
“Aba! Look what I found!” Tali yelled, and Ziva’s breath disappeared at the sight of her. She could hear Tony respond, but it was as if she was underwater. His voice was muffled beyond recognition, the words themselves indistinguishable. The only thing she could see was Tali, practically glowing under the light coming through the window, smiling at her like she’d put the sun in the sky, twirling and giggling as she did.
“You put her in ballet lessons?” She whispered, trying to hold onto the tears in her eyes. She felt Tony put his hand in hers, but she couldn’t look away from her daughter, in pink ballet shoes and a poofy tutu that seemed to engulf her tiny frame.
“She’s pretty good too, I think. Although, this was always your area of expertise.”
“Thank you,” She said, forcing herself to turn toward him.
“You know, since the moment she came to DC, every decision I’ve made has been done after wondering what you would do. You may not have been here, but don’t think you haven’t had a part in raising our child, Ziva.”
She nodded. What words could she possibly say to describe the weight that seemed to slowly fall off her shoulders, the pride and gratefulness that flowed through every cell in her body, the relief and ease and love that nearly overwhelmed her, in the best possible way? No language she knew had any arrangement of letters that could properly express the sentiment.
He squeezed her hand, and she wondered whether she’d ever get used to the way he always knew how to read her mind, how to look into her eyes and see everything she was and everything she hoped to be.
He let go, but only to fiddle with his phone. “Alright, you ready Tater Tot?” He asked, and Ziva turned back to look at Tali, standing in front of them expectantly. “Do you remember the moves, or do you want me to do it with you?”
“You do it with me!” She laughed, and he turned to Ziva, gave her a look that she recognized from every movie he’d ever shown her, the one that only two parents, two halves of a whole, could give one another. She’d spent years wanting to share that look with someone, to share it with him. She pinched herself as he stood up and clicked play on his phone, because everything about this moment had come straight from her wildest, most hopeful dreams, the ones she used to keep herself going in the years she spent alone. She watched as they danced, the music echoing off the hardwood floors, the whole house becoming their stage in a performance for an audience of one.
#please let me know what you think i love that shit#tiva#fanifc#ncis#ziva david#tony dinozzo#tali david dinozzo#ao3#TFLO3#oh and like i know sometimes people tag other people in fics#does anyone want me to do that?#because i will i just never talk to people so idk who would want that lolol
108 notes
·
View notes