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sykesandskittles · 2 months

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CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER ONE

Harlow

Sometimes I feel cursed.

Okay, well, not cursed exactly. But I’ve had my share of challenges in the nineteen years I’ve been on this planet. Well-meaning people—usually adults—have always told me to be thankful for my hardships. It makes you stronger. More capable. Independent.

I wish all that were true. Really, the events that have shaped my life just settle like silt inside me, tainting every thought, every action. Until I’m convinced misfortune has been braided into my DNA.

Generational trauma, isn’t that what they call it?

I dig my toes into the wet sand and look out at the Pacific Ocean. It’s hard to feel cursed here, though. Malibu is a magical place, soaked in sunshine, with a surprising small-town feel. But its best quality is how far it is from Fresno. From home. From the events of last year.

The sharp wind whips through my hair and stings my cheeks. My best friend, Talia, and I wandered down to the beach hours ago after we’d unpacked our boxes and set up our dorm rooms.

Talia called me crazy when I waded into the frigid water, dunking my head under the salty waves like some kind of baptism. Maybe it was a type of cleansing. The ghosts of my past washing away with the tide.

If only forgetting were so easy.

“Hey, look what I found!”

I turn to see Talia walk up to me with something cradled in her palm. It’s a piece of green sea glass. “It was probably a beer bottle or something originally.”

Picking it up, I angle it toward the fading sunlight, looking at it from different angles, admiring its beauty. The power of the ocean is wild—transforming an ordinary beer bottle into something so beautiful. I wonder if it has the power to transform me, too. “What are you going to do with it?”

Talia shrugs. “Turn it into a necklace or something, maybe.”

Another gust of ocean Taliaze whips through me, and my teeth start chattering. “It’s almost sunset. We should head back to the residence hall.”

Exeter University West—one of the West Coast's most prestigious colleges—is right on the beach. When Talia and I applied last year, it was a long shot. A pipe dream. We both have decent grades, but nothing spectacular. So, months later, when we were both accepted, it felt like a miracle. Then when I scored a full scholarship, I finally started to believe my luck was changing.

Exeter is the escape I’ve been desperate for. A fresh start.

I look down the length of the beach and see a huge Victorian mansion perched on a cliff, overlooking the ocean. I noticed it when we first got to campus a couple of days ago. It’s hard to miss. The giant Gothic structure is painted a dark, crimson red with navy blue trim, and ornate woodwork that makes it look out of place on a modern college campus. I was probably here first, though, and the university just encroached gradually until the house and grounds were consumed by the sprawling campus.

It’s a creepy-looking house, though. No lie.

“Our residence hall is right on the other side of that weird house,” I say.

“Okay, let’s go,” Talia says, her bottom lip quivering. “I’m turning into a brine-flavored popsicle.”

The sharp wind continues to cut through us as we walk along the sand, getting dark quickly, and we’re two girls walking alone, so I’m on full alert—glancing behind us, my hand resting on the small stun gun tucked into my front pocket.

But the beach is empty—which is surprising, considering the amount of students on campus. It rained a little earlier, and it’s freezing, so maybe that’s why no one is here. But cold or not, there would still be a couple of people out here, at least, right?

“Slow down,” Talia pouts. “Your legs are longer than mine.”

I pause so she can catch up. “Have you noticed there’s no one else out here? That’s weird, right? I mean, it’s cold, but it’s not that cold.”

“There are people out here,” she says, pointing ahead. I squint, and sure enough, there’s a fire burning about half a mile in the distance, on the beach directly below the creepy house. I don’t know how I missed that, but to be fair, the beach isn’t straight—there’s a shrub-capped berm in the way, and the fire is partially hidden behind that.

“Oh, yeah, huh.”

Talia shakes her head and continues walking. “You are so blind. I keep telling you to go to the eye doctor.”

“I’m not blind.”

“Oh, really?” she says. “So when you walked up to that girl back in high school and started telling her off because you thought she was Veronica?”

I frown, trudging after Talia in the sand. Now it’s me trying to keep up with her. “Okay, but in my defense, they could be twins. I’d like to see the DNA report on those two.”

Talia stops and rolls her eyes at me. “The girl you accosted was three inches shorter than Veronica, and has glasses—which you also need.”

I blow out a breath. “Details. Whatever.”

With a scoff, Talia turns back around and we both keep walking. The beach narrows as we approach the fire, so we have to climb over the berm to get to the other side. It’s rough, and the shrubs are spiny, but we manage to make it down the other side.

“I’m remembering why we didn’t come this way originally,” Talia says. “The sidewalk was a lot easier.”

The sidewalk also dips between several university buildings, and in the dark, there’s no way I’m taking that route. I don’t want to say that, though, so I just shrug. “This way is shorter.”

Talia just pushes out a frustrated breath.

The closer we get to the fire, though, it becomes clear that something is sketchy. There are several people, all wearing robes with hoods, gathered in a half-circle around the fire, facing the ocean, chanting something.

Chanting.

What the…?

I reach out and grab Talia, pulling her back into a crouching position. We had to walk up and over, so we’re somewhat concealed by the random tufts of brush, but not entirely. And we’re only about thirty feet away, but thankfully, I don’t think we’ve been seen.

“Holy shit,” Talia whispers.

I blink rapidly to try and see through the murky twilight. There’s one guy, drenched, and completely naked, cupping his family jewels, shivering in front of the cloaked group.

“What are they doing?” I ask my tone low.

“It could be a frat, but the robes are weird. I think this is the Society of the Burning Crown,” Talia says with a note of awe in her voice.

I swallow. “What is that? Please tell me it’s a chess club or something.”

“Does this look like a chess club?” Talia hisses. She grabs my hand and pulls me forward, but I dig my heels into the sand. “Come on, we need to get closer.”

Closer? Is she insane? “Oh, fuck, no. Whatever this is, I don’t want anything to do with it.”

She manages to drag me several feet forward, but only because fighting her could draw attention to us. So far, we’ve managed to go unnoticed, and I’d like to keep it that way.

We crouch down again, and I try to quiet my breathing. It’s not likely they can hear anything over the roaring ocean, or their weird chanting, but I’m not taking any chances. If I could stop breathing altogether, I would.

Someone from the half-circle approaches the fire. I can’t see their faces, but I’m guessing by the person’s size, and broad shoulders, it’s a guy—and he’s probably the leader. He has a long, metal-looking rod in his hand that he shoves into the fire.

“Okay, we’ve seen enough,” I whisper. “Let’s go.”

Talia just waves me off, her gaze fixed on the odd ritual in front of us. Whatever this is, I get the distinct idea that Talia and I aren’t supposed to be witnessing it. And I would love to honor that.

The chanting continues for a couple of minutes, then Lead Guy approaches Naked Guy and says something to him that I can’t hear. Whatever he says is swallowed by the sound of the roaring ocean.

In response to what was said, Naked Guy nods once, then turns to face the ocean, and falls to his knees. His shoulders curl forward, exposing the length of his spine, and I watch as his thin frame vibrates violently against the cold.

Lead Guy takes another step forward, his hand jutting out like a surgeon silently requesting his scalpel. Someone from the circle removes the rod from the fire and places it in Lead Guy’s outstretched hand.

My breath is held, my gaze cemented to the scene as I watch Lead Guy pull his arm back—almost like he’s doing it in slow motion. Is he going to hit the other guy with that rod? Is this actually happening right in front of me?

As Lead Guy’s arm juts forward, and the tip of the rod makes contact, Naked Guy screams out in pain, the sound echoing off the cliffs surrounding us. He’s being branded. The barbaric act is so shocking and so unexpected, that a scream is ripped from my own throat, and I lurch forward.

“Shit, Harlow!” Talia hisses, pulling me back.

I shove my hand over my mouth to silence the whimper that bubbles up from my throat. It’s too late. They see us. Every hooded figure is turned toward Talia and me, and their leader—God help us—is already crossing the sand, closing the distance between us…

HIS EYES ARE A COLD, Dark Brown. That’s the first thing I notice as the leader of this group stalks toward us, shadows from the moon playing across his masked face, half-hidden under the hood of his robe.

Intensity radiates off this guy, his large body moving with confidence across the sand. When he stops right in front of us, I gulp. He looks like a bouncer, ready to toss us out of a club.

Talia and I are standing side-by-side, but when he speaks, he looks directly at me. “Leave. Now.” His voice is muffled by the mask, but it's deep and harsh, and sends a shiver of fear down my spine. “Go back the way you came.”

I’m already half-turned, opening my mouth to tell him, “Yup, no problem, we’re already gone,” when Talia grabs my wrist, stopping me.

“Hold on,” Talia says, looking over his shoulder at the other robed figures. “What are you guys doing out here?”

The guy’s jaw clenches tightly as he drags his gaze away from me and settles on Talia. Behind the mask, his eyes narrow, and if we needed evidence that we don’t belong here, there it is. Right there. That deadly stare.

“Talia,” I say, practically pleading. “Let’s go.”

She doesn’t hear me, or she’s deliberately ignoring me. Either way, she steps up to Lead Guy. “If you don’t want people watching you, then you shouldn’t be doing this—” She waves wildly at the scene in front of us. “–out in public.”

“This is a private beach,” he answers through gritted teeth. “And you aren’t welcome here.”

I grab Talia's elbow firmly and dare a glance at Lead Guy. “We’re leaving.”

I don’t love the idea of taking the sidewalk all the way back to our residence hall, but it’s either that or walk straight through this creepy-ass ritual. Mmm, no thanks. Hard pass.

Talia struggles against me, but I manage to keep my grip. “You can’t tell us what to do!” she practically yells at the guy. “We’re just walking along the beach. You’re the ones doing sketchy shit.”

Oh, damn. He inadvertently triggered Talia's defiance. I’ve known her since middle school, and she’s always been strong-willed, even to her own detriment. Tell her not to jump off the bridge, and she’s going to do it just to prove she can.

Right now, though, my job is to make sure we don’t end up as the topic of a true crime episode.

“Talia,” I say firmly, yanking her in the direction we just came. She digs her heels in, but I manage to move her a little—enough to encourage me to keep pulling. “Let’s leave the nice Jedis alone.”

I hear the stranger grunt as we walk away, and I feel the weight of his gaze pressing on me until Talia and I reach the top of the berm. I release Talia and quickly make my way down the other side of the small hill, then head up the beach, toward the sidewalk. It’s a steep climb, but I make it in record time, Talia trailing behind me.

“Slow down,” she says, annoyed.

I shake my head and pick up my pace. “We shouldn’t have seen that,” I say.

“Oh, who cares, Harlow? They shouldn’t have been out in the open if whatever they’re doing is such a secret.”

I stop abruptly and turn to face her. “The beach is empty.”

I’d noticed that earlier, but I’d assumed it had something to do with the rain. Now, I wonder if people had gotten the memo that something was going down tonight, and had deliberately stayed off the beach.

Lord.

We stumbled onto something we weren’t supposed to see, and I can't help but wonder what the repercussions of that might be. None, I hope. We left, and hopefully, that’s the end of it.

But ever since the incident last year, my mind has been stuck in survival mode. It feels like everything and everyone is a potential threat. So I doubt I’ll stop worrying about this whole thing anytime soon.

It’s taken a mountain of therapy just to get me to this point–willing to leave my hometown and start over somewhere new. And, honestly, if it weren’t for Talia, that never would have happened. In my darkest moments, she was there, guiding me and encouraging me. She’s the one person in my life I can rely on.

But her impulsivity can get her into trouble, and I feel like I’m always trying to rein her in. Even when we were kids, I was saving her from herself. Trying to get her to think before she tumbled right off that proverbial bridge.

“You have to admit, that was amazing!” Talia says, clapping her hands excitedly. “Shit. I never thought we’d get to see something like that.”

I keep walking. The faster we get to the residence hall and off this dark sidewalk, the better. “A guy was getting branded. What’s amazing about that?”

“I’m pretty sure we just witnessed the initiation ceremony for the Society of the Burning Crown.” She’s walking behind me, and I don’t need to see her face to know she has a smile stretched across her face. I can hear it in her voice. “No one gets to see that. Unless you’re a member, obviously.”

I stop and turn around to face her. “That—what we just saw—was super shady. Branding, violence, anything like that is strictly against the university’s policy.”

She looks lost. “Okay, and? What does that have to do with us?”

“Are they going to be worried we’ll tell someone about it?”

Talia snorts. “You’re afraid they’re going to come after us? They aren’t the mafia, Harlow. They don’t give a shit about us.”

Secret societies are like cults in my mind—and cults can do some pretty crazy shit to keep their secrets hidden. I should know—my mom has been in a cult for the last eight years. She joined when I was eleven—just skipped right over to Florida, leaving me to live with my grandmother. That’s the kind of power these types of groups wield.

Talia grabs me. “Harlow, you’ve got to stop worrying so much.” I sigh. “I’m trying, but it’s not easy.”

Her expression softens. “I know, but everything is going to be fine. How were we supposed to know, right? We were just—” She motions casually “–walking along the beach.”

“Yeah. You’re right.”

But as we walk back to the residence hall, an uneasy feeling gathers in my stomach. The whole idea behind coming to ExU was to blend in. Start over. Stay away from drama. Classes haven’t even started yet, and trouble has already rooted me out.

We get to the building fine—thank God—and I swipe my key card. I’m on the second floor, and Talia is on the third, so we part ways on the second-floor landing.

“See you tomorrow!” Talia calls out, walking up that last set of stairs to her floor. “And stop worrying!”

I just roll my eyes and open the door that leads to my floor. It’s going to be tough to fall asleep tonight—but not because I’m worrying. I know the second I lay my head down to sleep, all I’m going to see in my mind’s eye are a pair of electric brown eyes…

The next morning, I’m barely awake when my roommate, Emily, taps me on the shoulder. “Um, Harlow. Are you awake?”

My eyes are practically sealed shut—how could I be awake? Moaning, I roll over onto my side and face the wall. “No,” I say, pushing my voice through the gravel in my throat.

Last night, just as I predicted, I got zero sleep. As I lay in bed, staring up at the dark ceiling, last night’s events were on repeat inside my head.

Was there something I could have done differently? Inside the safety of my thoughts, I’m always braver than I was out there on the sand—and I say something snarky and clever back to Lead Guy. It’s different every time, but he’s always taken aback by my clever response.

I finally fell asleep around five, just as sunlight started bleeding into the night sky.

But my roomie is an early riser—or so she told me yesterday. And that obviously still holds, even though classes don’t officially start for another two days.

“Okay, well, there’s a note or something here for you. I’ll just put it on your nightstand.”

A note?

I wonder if it’s from Talia. Usually, she’d just text me, but if I’m not answering then she might resort to a handwritten note.

The door clicks shut as Emily leaves, and I flip over onto my back, stretching until I feel a pleasant sting spread across my shoulders. Then I blink and pick up my phone. It’s only eight in the morning. My God. Where on earth could Emily possibly be going this early?

Sitting up, I yawn and glance at the note she left on my nightstand. It’s a black envelope with my name scrawled on the back in all caps—not Talia’s swoopy cursive. I open the envelope and pull out a piece of black cardstock. There’s a symbol on the front. It’s a crown, embossed in gold, flames erupting from the tips

Oh, shit.

Didn’t Talia say the society we encountered last night was called the Society of the Burning Crown?

I flip the card over.

Preference Ceremony

Ten O’Clock

Rush House

Uh.

I immediately text Talia with a photo of the invite, followed by a full screen of question marks.

Talia is in my room within fifteen minutes, sitting on my bed, cross-legged, looking at the invite from every possible angle. “Well, it looks legit,” she says, scratching the gold embossing.

“What’s a Preference Ceremony?” I ask.

Before arriving on campus, Talia did a ton of research about the university—history, culture, clubs, party scene…any information she could get her hands on. Maybe she ran across a website that mentioned it.

“Never heard of it,” she says, tossing the invite onto the bed next to her. She picks up her phone, types something in, then starts scrolling. “There might be something online about it.”

I do my own search on my laptop, but there’s nothing. All I can find on the Burning Crown is general information that’s been posted on a random forum dedicated to secret societies.

“Listen to this,” I say. “The Society of the Burning Crown is a secret society, founded in 1890, on the campus that is known today as Exeter University West. Rush House is the society’s headquarters and sits on the edge of the university’s 124 acres.” I turn my computer, so she can see the photo that’s been inserted between the paragraphs. It’s that creepy Victorian house on the cliff. I pull my computer back and continue reading out loud, “Little is known about the inner workings of the society, but the rumored structure is a larger membership known as the Circle, and a smaller, ruling class, known as the Omen boys. The Omens are the direct descendants of the four founding members.”

Talia scrapes her teeth over her bottom lip, thinking. “Hm. Does it say anything about what a Preference Ceremony is?”

“Nope.”

She lifts her hands, slapping them back down on her knees. “Welp, I suppose we’ll just have to find out then!”

I shake my head. “No way.”

Talia frowns at me, her delicate features scrunched up and contorted. She never really looks ugly, though. She has a pert little nose, high cheekbones, and long, dark eyelashes that are 1000% real. The girls in high school always hated her for that.

She shoves her bottom lip out in a pout. “Oh, come on, why not? It’ll be an adventure.”

“Yesterday, that guy was pissed that we’d stumbled on their…whatever that was. Then this morning, they slid an invite under my door?” I press my lips together. “If that’s not weird, then I don’t know what is.”

“Maybe they just want to make amends,” Talia offers. “You said yourself that they might be afraid we’ll tell someone. So maybe this is their way of, I don’t know, smoothing things over.”

I pick up the envelope that the note came in, reading my name over and over, almost as if I stare at it long enough, it’ll give up its author’s secrets. It just makes me more uneasy, though, if anything.

“How do they even know my name? And why just give me an invite?”

My tone is rising, and Talia must sense how tense I’m getting. She knows the year I’ve had, and how desperately I just want to have a normal freshman experience. Quiet. Boring. No drama.

She reaches over and places a hand on my arm. “Harlow, it’s okay. Societies like this have their hand in everything, and if someone steps foot on their campus, they usually know about it. It’s not personal to you.” She shrugs. “And you probably got the invite because you’re closer to the building entrance. Why bother sending two invites when they know we’re together?”

It’s a paper-thin theory and doesn’t even make sense, but I cling to it because believing there’s a deeper meaning would seriously threaten my mental health. And the whole idea behind starting over is not over-analyzing every little thing. Or so my therapist, Dr. Cunningham, says.

I take a deep breath. “Yeah, okay. Doesn’t matter anyway, because we’re not going.” I snatch the invite up off the bed and rip it in two.

Talia lunges at me, her green eyes wide with horror. “Harlow, what the fuck?” She grabs the two pieces from my hands and tries to fit them back together. “We have to go. No one gets invited to these things. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime thing.”

I lean back against my pillows. “You know how I feel about cults, Talia. Don’t ask me to do this.”

“It’s not a cult. It’s a secret society. There’s a big difference.”

I push out a sigh. “That’s disputable.”

I know her, though. If Talia wants to do something, she’ll do it, no matter what I say. And I can’t let her go to something like that alone—it’s way too sketchy.

“Maybe they want to apologize for last night? And if we don’t go, then they might see that as an insult.”

I make a face. “Apologize? The guy from last night didn’t look sorry. He looked pissed.”

“Okay, let’s compromise. We’ll go, see what they want, and if there’s anything shady happening, then we’ll leave. Easy. No stress.”

No stress. I practically snort at that. I’m already stressed.

I think about it for a second, then take the invite from her hands, shoving both pieces into the black envelope. “Fine, we’ll go under two conditions.”

“Okay, shoot,” she says, and I can already see she wants to squeal with excitement.

“One: we find out what they want, then leave.” I hold a finger in the air before she can respond. “Two: if they even hint at trying to recruit us, we bail right then and there.” Talia opens her mouth to argue, but I stop her. “Ah! We leave immediately.”

She deflates a little, but I think she knows this is the only way I’ll do it. And the envelope has my name on it, which gives me a little leverage. She could try to go without me, but there’s a chance they’d turn her away at the door.

Talia leans back. “Fine. Deal.”

I nod, satisfied. But deep down, I have a sinking feeling there’s more to all of this than a simple apology. Something much darker…

#bad omens #noah sebastian #noah sebastian smut #jolly karlsson #nick ruffilo #noah x reader #bad omens smut #nick folio #nick folio smut

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eileenslibrary · 4 months

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Big Enough Bedroll For The Two Of Us

Thorin x Reader

Warnings: Rain, Not The Greatest Writing, Hypothermia (Mentioned x2), Nudity, Sharing A Bed Trope But A Bit Different, Fluff

It’s raining, water pours down on all fifteen of you cold to the bones, thirteen dwarves and a hobbit try to catch up to you “Stop walking so damn fast with your long legs” Fili cusses nearly slipping on the mud “I have a reason to walk fast! I am more susceptible to hypothermia than all of you don’t you remember!” You shout back turning around and huddling your blue cloak around you trying to stay warm. Fili and Kili grumble in frustration as the other dwarves start catching up with you, Thorin quickly finding his place next to you, his hair sticking to his face. His blue eyes calculate the scenery “What’s the layout?” You hum shivering letting out a shaky breath as water starts dripping down your neck into your shirt, your armor doing nothing to stop it. “I think I see a cave over there, we can set camp until the rain clears” He sighs, Thorin shouts the order to the others, and a series of “at last” and “finally” can be heard from Kili, Fili, and Bilbo. You all hurry over to the place Thorin says he sighted the cave.

You see it and sigh in happiness. It is a cave, and it’s dry, you begin unpacking and check if your bedroll made it out dry, to your luck it did. You place it on the ground keeping your boots off of it, you strip your cloak off and undo all of your armor throwing it in a pile, and you dig in your pack to grab some dry clothing. You hum in frustration at the open wide cave giving you no privacy to change, you feel a presence behind you and a big blanket suddenly be thrown in front of you. “I’ll hold it up, get changed” Your eyes widen surprised that it is Thorin of all people saying that. “Thank you, Thorin” You hush slipping off your boots and socks and putting them next to your cloak. Thorin picks up the blanket holding it in front of you as you change out of your wet clothes and into your dry ones “I’m done” Thorin drops the blanket down at that “You are still in your wet clothes, you should have changed” You scold noticing his tunic sticking to his torso in what seems to be an uncomforting way “I also change in privacy (Name)” He says quickly looking down at you “Oh, well would you like me to return the favor?” You stand offering to hold the blanket, Thoring stays quiet for a moment thinking of a response “I would yes” He sighs handing the blanket to you. He leads you to his pack, his dry clothes on the ground, you notice his bedroll didn’t make it out dry due to the harsh rain “Thorin, Where are you to sleep?” you sigh as you turn around holding the blanket up giving him privacy, he does not give you an answer. You shake your head, at least this blanket is dry “Are you planning to sleep only with this blanket?” You ask, seething when more cold beads of water drip down your shirt from your head. “I was, why?” He grumbles “Because I will not allow it!” You fuss your eyebrows creasing in worry. He chuckles, only you can hear it “And where am I to sleep?” He presses. You listen to him clasping a cloak around his shoulders “I have enough room in my bedroll. It will benefit me as well, I will have a lower chance of getting sick if I have another person to keep me warm, due to my body temperature being significantly lower I am more susceptible to catching an illness that can end up in death or amputation” You point out to him. You hear him sigh and the both of you fall into silence, you feel anxiety rise “Did I overstep?” you think biting your lip at the silence.

“I am dressed,” He says after a while of silence. You fold the blanket and turn around looking at him handing it back, you turn and go back to your bedroll, unrolling the wool-lined fabric and slipping into it, you pull it around yourself, still shivering. Kili and Fili gather as much dry wood as they can from outside pilling it up for a fire, You watch Bofur tear a few pages from his notebook as kindling, they finally get a fire going, Balin and Dwalin start cooking up some dinner for all of you.

You sip down the hot soup quickly feeling the warmth flow through your system. You were huddling between Fili and Balin trying to find more warmth “I hate how the cold wind blows right through me” You grumble in protest of the weather, some of the dwarves chuckle at your statement. Bilbo agrees with you happily making you cheer up slightly at not being completely alone in this horrid freezing state. You look across from you and see Thorin staring at you, his hair beginning to frizz up as it dries. You nod toward him in acknowledgment before finding interest in your stew sipping it up hungrily. Supper comes to an end and the dwarves all start going to bed, you move back to your original place, pulling on another tunic and an extra pair of socks to stay warm. You hear someone approaching you, Thorin you realize, he stares down at you “May I still take you up on that offer?” He asks, you nod and hold up one side of your bedroll for him to slide into. He willingly slots himself next to you throwing the blanket from earlier over you both. You shift to lay on your side so he has more room, he thanks you quietly and lays down next to you, turns on his side facing you, and shuffles closer to you. To your surprise he offers his arm as a pillow for you “Rest your head, it will warm you up” This Is all you get from him. You nod and lay on his arm, your cheeks heat as he pulls you flush to his chest tucking your head in his neck, the moment becoming intimate quickly, Thorin's soft breathing calms you, his body heat quickly warming you up. Your eyes flutter closed and you begin slipping into the land of dreams, but you faintly feel a pair of lips pressing quickly to your forehead.

#fluff #lord of the rings #the hobbit #thorin oakenshield #the hobbit thorin #king under the mountain

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nyaagolor · 8 months

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Does anyone ever think about the whole poisoning scene in the courthouse? Because I do. A Lot.

“You should know better than to take drinks from strangers, Mister Attorney,” she says.

He’s frozen now, mug still raised to his lips, dark eyes locked with hers. Slowly, carefully, he sets the mug on the counter with shaking hands as his heart plunges to his stomach. The entire room seems to spin around the ghost of her smile, some subtle fragile thing. He commits every detail of her face to memory, how soft it is, how blank, watching him with vague disinterest like a well polished doll. Diego opens his mouth, a million questions stuck behind the ivory cage of his teeth. He catches himself staring at her, fighting to speak. His stomach rolls. He’s forgetting how to breathe.

Something hot spikes in his abdomen and he curls instinctively, back arched like a cat and hands curling tightly around himself. He fights to lift his head, to catch the look in those eyes even as the world around him pulses dark and painful.

Every single one of his limbs feel heavy, and the leaden body of Diego Armando slumps onto the table with eyes wide open. He fights with it, with himself, tugging himself upwards even as his skin melts away like candle wax and his nerves burst into flames. White hot electricity crackles over his remains, falling down, down, and he reaches out with every last ounce of his failing strength as though he can will himself back up. He knows where it is he’s going now, because his body is on fire. It’s still burning, even as his form reduces to ashes. If he can just reach out, grab hold of her, he might be able to stop himself from falling— or at the very least drag her down to hell with him.

Choking out something pitiful, he feels wetness on his face. Diego wills the tears to stop falling, for his face to dry, to stop the stinging behind his eyes as his vision blurs to nothing. He cannot cry now— that would be admitting to himself that it’s over. When his body drops and his consciousness shoots upwards, suspended in some kind of backwards free-fall, he just sucks in air. There’s a wetness in his lungs, on his face, dragging him downwards into that burning, smoldering darkness, but if nothing else he can do one last thing. With the last breath he remembers taking, Diego Armando screams loud enough to wake the dead.

#dahlia hawthorne #godot #diego armando #ace attorney #mod vex #vex writing

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sugarsweb · 2 years

Text

HiMERU x Fem!Reader

SIT ON HIS FACE. HiMERU has a specific request. (Originally posted Sep 22nd)

Contains : Dom/Sub undertones, cunnilingus, Fem!Reader, not proofread

Word Count : > 800

18+ content underneath the cut. By clicking 'Keep Reading' you are knowingly reading content made for people over the age of 18. Read at your own discretion.

His hand travels across your body lightly, and your body feels like it’s on fire. His touch is so gentle, yet promises much more to come - your lips connect, and HiMERU’s free hand comes up to cradle your face gently.

With his body on top of yours, pressing down enough for you to feel some of his weight against you, you should feel trapped - but you’re comfortable, and you break the kiss to let out a breathy sigh, lightly panting from the lack of air. Your boyfriend pulls away a bit to take a glance at your face - your hair is dishevelled, cheeks warm and your eyes are nearly glazed over. Who knew he could have such an effect on you?

He feels his pants get tight, and as much as he wants to feel your tight cunt wrapped around him, there’s something else on his mind.

HiMERU moves to lay down on your shared bed, his hair splayed out as his hand grabs your thigh and he squeezes it silently, asking you to get on top of him without using any words. You get his message, and on shaky legs, place yourself on top of his lap, feeling his dick right through his pants. Your brain finally catches up in the moment, realising that you’re completely naked, while he’s just shirtless. He chuckles when he sees the pout forming on your face, knowing exactly what you’re thinking - unfair.

However, him being naked is the least of his worries, and he opens his mouth to ask you;

“Sit on HiMERU’s face.”

Okay, maybe not much of a question - more of a demand, if anything. And what HiMERU wants, HiMERU gets. That doesn’t stop your face from feeling a hundred times warmer than before, and as embarrassing as his demand makes you, your pussy clenches around nothing, anticipating the feeling of his wet tongue in you.

“Um, are you sure?” You say. His hands trail down your spine, one hand coming to grab your asscheek and the other pressing against your back to press you closer against him, and he bucks up into you as he can feel your heat right against his clothed dick. “I- I’m not light as a feather or anything…”

HiMERU groans, not out of annoyance, but the thought of feeling your thighs around his head and the taste of your juice on his lips turns him on more than he’ll ever admit. The hand on your butt squeezes, telling you that he’s absolutely sure.

You give a hesitant nod and, reluctantly, pull yourself from off his lap to shuffle towards his face. If you weren’t so distracted by the whole situation, you could have noticed his eyes gleaming out of excitement in the dim room light.

You’re right above his face, not pressing down just yet as you check in with him again. “You’re absolutely sure?”

His answer is to quickly move his hands to your thighs, pulling you down on top of his face - you can feel his hot mouth against your own heat, his tongue darting out to lick a stripe across your pussy. Your body jolts in response, hands immediately grasping the headboard to steady yourself and try to avoid suffocating your boyfriend between your thighs.

HiMERU groans loud at the taste of you, hips bucking into nothing. His tongue laps at your wetness, and you moan in reply. You have to remind yourself not to start riding his face, but he feels so good and the way he’s making circles is driving you insane. Lewd slurping noises bounce off the walls of your room, and HiMERU’s tongues into your hole, making you nearly fold in half out of pleasure.

His hands are massaging your thighs, making a shiver go down your back as he focuses back on your clit, and you feel your orgasm rapidly approaching.

“HiMERU… fuck, feels so good-” Your praise turns him on even further, and he doubles his efforts, desperate to feel you clench around his tongue and cum in his mouth. “I’m gonna - fuck - I’m gonna cum soon-!”

The vibration of his moans add to the sensation, and you quickly lose yourself in the pleasure, your hips lightly bucking against his face, and HiMERU thinks he’s died and gone to heaven - to see yourself lose your inhibitions and chase your high thanks to his tongue does things to him.

You nearly scream his name as you cum on his tongue, and he happily laps every last drop up. The feeling of his tongue continuing to clean you up overstimulates you, your thighs shaking violently, and you try to pull yourself up from his face, but your boyfriend’s hold on you gets tighter. He pulls away from your cunt momentarily to look at you in your eyes, and you notice the wetness on the lower half of his face and you have to force yourself not to look away in shame. However, HiMERU seems to read your mind, and one hand comes up to grab your face in a firm - yet gentle - hold.

“I’m not done here.”

Oh, you were in for quite a night.

#sugarsmut #himeru x reader #himeru smut #himeru #ensemble stars smut #enstars smut

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xxspringmelodyxx · 1 year

Text

The Daughter of the Phoenix~

Hello my dear readers! Welcome back to the next chapter of The Daughter of the Phoenix! I hope you enjoyed the last one, and I hope you enjoy this one just as much. Just a little reminder that this is a “HSR Men x F. Reader” situation type deal! :) Here is part I if you haven’t read that yet! Also, let me know if you’d like to be included in the tag list. I have notifications turned on now, so I should now be able to see who comments on my posts; so, I should get back to you very quickly! Anyways, I’ll stop with all this jibber jabber and let you read. Have fun~

—----

Words: 3.4k

Warnings: a bit of swearing, a bit of violence towards the end…I think that is all!

—----

I felt my body slowly wake up after what seemed to be forever. My eyes were heavy, making it almost impossible to open them. As I slowly gained back consciousness, I started to feel pain run up and throughout my body. It was almost like I was on fire and no matter what, I couldn’t get rid of it.

Suddenly, I heard two voices talking to one another. One sounded like a girl, and the other sounded like a boy.

Wait…where am I?

My eyes snapped wide open, only to be met with a bright light. I slightly shut them this time, letting them adjust to the light difference.

“Hey! She’s awake!” The female voice spoke.

She began to slightly shake me, making my head dizzy.

“Stop doing that. You can clearly see she is getting sick from it.” The male voice said

“Oh, sorry! I was just trying to help her wake up.”

That’s when I budded in and began to speak…well tried to at least

“Where…where am I?” I said. My voice was extremely hoarse, making it hard for the two to fully understand me.

The girl placed her hand on my arm, trying her best to soothe me.

“Don’t worry. You are safe here with us. We tried to help you to the best of our abilities. But some of your injuries were far too deep to fully heal.” She said

Soon enough, my eyes adjusted to the light and I took this time to observe my surroundings. I was…outside? Tall and bushy trees surrounded us, the morning sun’s rays just barely passing through them, giving it this ethereal look. The soft, grassy ground was wet from the morning dew, dampening my clothes. I looked down to look at my body, seeing deep wounds and bruises all over my body with a few bandages wrapped around my legs, torso, and arms. I also noticed that I was wearing what looked to be a hospital gown.

I tried to push myself up, but realized that my body was so weak and injured that I couldn’t even do that.

“Woah, woah. Just relax, okay? Your body is pretty banged up, so you need to give it some time to heal.” She said

“W…What happened?” I tried to speak again. I tried desperately to remember how I got into this situation, but no matter how hard I tried, nothing came to mind. Now that I continue to wander in my own mind, I quickly realize that I can’t remember anything besides my own name! I was dragged out of my own thoughts when the man began to speak.

“We were wondering the same thing. You're lucky we were here to catch you. Otherwise, you would’ve died. What the hell were you even doing up there?” The man asked, trying his hardest to understand what was going on.

“Dan!” The girl yelled

“What? All I’m trying to do is see why she was up there.” He replied

“Up…where?” I asked, confused as to what they were talking about

“In the sky! You were falling at like 120 miles per hour!” She said

“I was?” I asked again, still not sure as to why I was all the way up there

“You mean…you have no memory of what you were doing up there? Or what caused you to fall?” Dan asked, perplexed.

I shook my head.

“Well, do you at least know what caused you to get injured this badly?” The woman asked, making me shake my head once again.

“I can’t…I can’t seem to remember anything at all.” I spoke up

“What about your family? They must be worried about you? Any friends? Pets even?” The girl said

“No. Nothing.”

“Hmmm. It would seem that your body has experienced a lot of trauma that somehow caused your mind to block out any memory you had. Do you at least remember your name?” Dan asked

“Y/n…Y/n L/n.”

“Well it's wonderful to meet you, Y/n! My name is March 7th! And this jerk to the left of me is, as I’m sure you heard, Dan Heng–ow! What was that for?” March whined after Dan stepped on her foot.

“Why are you telling her our identities? She could be with you know who!” He whispered to her.

“Oh come on, Dan! Look at her!” March said, kneeling back down to you, placing her hands around your face and cuddling up to you.

“She doesn’t even look like she could harm a fly!” She said

“What is he talking about?” You asked her

“Oh don’t worry about him. He's just paranoid that you could possibly be siding with a man who is maybe, kind of, most definitely trying to destroy us.” She explained

“Destroy you??” You asked with a concerned look

“Or maybe take over the world…to be honest, we don’t really know. But what we do know is that he is out for something. And whatever that is, it must be important because some of the townspeople have been dealing with him lately. They’ve managed to keep it tame for some time, but every time he comes back, it gets worse for them.” She finished

“I see…well, I’m not sure what I’m doing here…or where I am from. But I can tell you one thing. I am not with whoever it is you are talking about. Well at least I don’t think I am….” You said, scratching your head

March smiled down at you, hugging you tightly. Dan, however, just stared at you with a look of uncertainty, not sure if he fully believes you or not.

“Oh I just knew you couldn’t hurt a fly! Welcome to our not so large group!” March said

“Are you kidding me? She is not joining us. I still don’t trust her, not to mention that we barely even know her!” Dan said to March, pulling her away from me.

March pushed Dan away, glaring at him

“Oh hush, you! Give her a chance to prove herself!” March said, making Dan roll his eyes.

“No way.”

“Oh please, Dan! Please!” She asked, using her puppy dog eyes. She kept asking Dan over and over again, which you couldn’t help find a little funny. Eventually, Dan quickly grew tired of her and sighed.

“Alright! She can come with us. Just stop with that nonsense.” He said to her, moving his eyes towards my direction. He pointed his finger at me, looking at me with menace.

“And you. If you slip up even once, you are done.” He said sternly.

I nodded, swearing to them both that I will not be a burden to them and prove myself worthy.

“Oh goody! Soooo, what can you do!” March asked, sitting next to you.

“What do you mean?” I asked her with a questioning look.

“Like what kind of abilities do you have? Can you fight? Can you heal? Can you help us at all with defense?”

I just stared at her with a blank stare, still struggling to even remember who I am.

“March, she just told us a while ago that she can’t remember anything.” Dan said, holding the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

“I know. I just thought I’d ask. I wanted to see if she could remember that.”

“She also might not have any ability at all.” He said

They began arguing once again. They were just like siblings who were both at the age of 5.

Quickly you budded in because you were starting to find their arguing a bit troublesome instead of funny. It was giving you a pounding headache.

“If I may.” You interrupted, making them both look at you

“I do not know if I am capable of anything like that…but I feel that I can learn rather quickly if you allow me to come with you.”

March’s eyes sparkled as she clasped her hands together.

“I love that idea! You can be our little apprentice who learns the way of the true fighter.” She said, looking off into the distance in her own little world.

Dan looked at March with confusion, but dismissed her to look back at you.

“I guess that wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Just make sure you don’t fall behind. We have things to get done and we can’t waste any of that time carrying you on our backs.” Dan said.

“Dan, she literally can’t walk! Look at her!” March said

“Oh, I’m sure I can walk now by myself…at least I think.” I said, looking down at my legs. Honestly, I lied. I knew it would be extremely painful to walk right now. But I don’t want to be left alone…and I also don’t want to start this off with them having to carry me around everywhere.

I tried to push myself up, only to feel throbbing pain everywhere. March pushed me back down as she instantly took notice.

“Y/n. You need to not move a single muscle. Whatever you went through caused a great deal of damage to your body. If you continue to move without resting and letting yourself heal, you might cause future issues that could cause issues for you and the rest of us.” She said. Dan turned on his heel to go look for a way out of the forest, telling us that he will be back.

“But I-”

“No buts. Look, I know you don’t want to seem like a burden to us, but trust me, you aren’t. I know Dan may seem a bit…unique with his attitude, but he is only acting this way because he is confused. He can’t explain what happened to you or how you even got here. Therefore, he is struggling to trust you because he can’t understand. Once you get to truly know him, you will realize that there is a soft side to him. It just takes time. Once he gets used to you, he will open up a bit more and you may even find yourself to become good friends with him.”

“But he doesn’t seem like he wants to be around me at all.”

“It’s just because he doesn’t know what to do right now. Dan is that type of person to be reserved and professional about almost anything. But trust me when I say this. He will not leave you behind. He is not the type of person to do that. If he was, he would’ve left me behind a long time ago with how easily distracted I get.”

“Really?”

“Oh are you kidding me? Almost every mission we go on, I am always the one that slows us down because I want to enjoy everything we are doing! Dan just wants to get to point A to point B and get it done and over with. Honestly, I think it’s the reason we work so well together. He keeps me on track, but I allow him to actually enjoy life rather than being so uptight.” She said

“And now with you, it's going to be so much fun! Who knows what new adventures you bring us! Or what new talents you bring us!” She said

“But…Dan said I might not have any ability-”

“So what? You don’t have to have a special ability to have talent! You could be helpful in other numerous ways! You could help gather up a team to help us on our missions! You could help spy on others to help with our missions! You could even just help us by traveling long distances to search for things or talk to others for our missions! Don’t get down on yourself so easily! You never know what potential you have if you don’t try!” She said

“Yeah…I guess you're right.” I said, thankful for her kind and inspiring words.

Just as she finished, Dan came back in a full sprint.

“Dan? What’s wrong?” March asked

Before he could open his mouth, a large screeching sound was heard from behind him. My eyes opened wide as I realized we were in danger.

Damn it! Why right now!

“Shit! We need to get out quick! We can’t fight a shape shifter right now!” March said, grabbing a hold of me.

“Dan! Help me get her up!” March said. Dan quickly sprinted towards us and, without struggle, picked me up in his arms. March and Dan began to run as fast as they could, not wanting to waste a single second.

The screeching got louder and louder, however. I lifted my head a bit to see what exactly we were running from, only to see a gigantic creature running towards us. It looked like a knight in shining armor, only more terrifying.

It raised its hand and balled its hand up into a fist, causing a large lightning bolt to hit only inches away from us, making me shriek.

Soon, another hit, knocking March to her knees. Dan stopped in his tracks, looking down at March.

He ran to her and helped her up.

“You alright?” He asked. She nodded, panting.

Dan looked up ahead, seeing that it would be near impossible for them to escape this without getting severely injured. It would be better to just face the enemy and get it done and over with.

You noticed that they weren’t moving and grew nervous. They weren’t seriously thinking about stopping that thing were they??

“Get her to safety.” March said, pointing towards me.

Dan nodded and ran you over to a large tree to hide you. He looked into your eyes with a bit of concern

“Stay here and don’t move, alright?” He asked, well, more like ordered.

I nodded anyway and stayed back, watching them fight the creature. Lightning was shooting from all sides, freaking me out a bit. Though, the two of them seemed like they knew exactly what to do. They attacked the creature from both sides, not giving it a single chance to strike back. Their only worries were the lightning strikes hitting the ground, but even with that, they seemed to avoid each one.

Unfortunately, one of the lightning bolts nearly hit me, making me scream a bit. I ran my hand over my mouth, hoping they didn’t hear that. That didn’t work, however, because I felt a large hand grab my leg, making me scream loudly this time. I was suddenly lifted up into the air upside down, hanging by my foot.

I looked up to see another one of those creatures, looking at me with sinister eyes.

Dan turned around to look for me, only to see the position I was in.

‘Y/n!” He yelled, running towards me.

March also looked and gasped. Before she could do anything, though, she was flung back into a tree from the first shape shifter, causing her to lose her breath.

Dan ran up and tried to help me, but the shape shifter behind him grabbed onto him and threw him around, causing him a great deal of damage.

The creature looked at me and struck me with a bolt of lightning, sending shocks all throughout my body.

I yelled in agony as my already injured body was facing more and more damage.

“Y/n…”

My face turned from one in pain to one with confusion as I looked around to see who said my name.

Everything was in slow motion, but it was all very blurry. Suddenly, I started to see a smokey silhouette from afar. It was pitch black and it was flying with its wings. It looked like a bird.

“Let me in, Y/n…Let me help you…” It whispered in my head, its voice echoing this whole time.

“W-Who…are you?” I whispered, making the creature holding me upside down confused.

“That is not important right now, my dear…Right now, you must let me take over so that I can help you.” It said, still standing far away from me.

Before I could respond, however, my eyes were getting very heavy from all the pain that was being put on me. It’s funny. For some reason, I feel like I am having deja vu…but I can’t remember for the life of me why that is.

Having no power left in me, I just accepted my fate and closed my eyes, falling into yet another deep slumber.

“I’ll make sure you are protected, no matter what…” The voice said to me before I passed out.

–

Dan and March sat up, their heads bleeding and pounding from the attacks they just received.

March looked around for you, seeing that you were still being held upside down with even more injuries to your body. Her and Dan’s eyes opened wide as they saw you hanging there with your eyes closed.

“Y/n!” They both called out for you, standing up quickly to run and help you.

That was quickly put to an end when a large amount of lightning strikes surrounded them, creating a wall between you and them.

“Y/n! Wake up! Please, wake up!” March yelled, trying to find a way out to help you.

The lightning strikes kept getting closer to them, making the two stick right to each other.

There was no way out unless they ran right through it at the right time.

They both looked up at you, seeing the creature about to strike you again.

“Y/n!” Dan yelled out, trying to run through, only to get shocked. He was flung back into March, knocking her over as well.

Just as they thought you were done for, they looked up only to see your body…absorbing the shocks around you??

The two’s eyes widened as they watched the electricity go into your body, surrounding your skin with white cracks.

The two creatures looked at you with turned heads, curious as to how you were doing this.

All four of them took notice of how your arms started to turn a blackish/greenish color, the bright white cracks still present in your skin.

In a matter of seconds, your eyes opened wide, completely black with a bit of smoke seething out of the outer corners of your eyes. In that moment, a large scream emitted from your mouth, allowing a surge of energy to burst out of your body.

The bright energy blast that escaped your body ran through the forest, pushing the trees back and even breaking them a bit. The ground beneath you all began to push downward due to the force of the blast. Most importantly, however, the blast touched the two beasts surrounding you two and completely disintegrated them into dust.

Since they disappeared, the lightning also disappeared and allowed March and Dan to be freed.

In a moment of shock, they stood there, amazed at what you just did, yet also a bit cautious. They weren’t sure what else you were going to do…or if you even knew what you were going to do.

But their thoughts quickly eroded away when they saw your body turn back to normal almost instantly and start to fall to the ground.

Dan sprinted towards you, making sure to catch your body once again. He just barely made it to you, falling to the ground with you in his arms.

He looked down at you to see you were in the same shape as you were when he first caught you in the sky, making his curiosity about you increase.

“We need to get her proper medical help. Right away. Her pulse is barely there again…and I fear it will be harder to heal her with just us two. Come on, we need to get back to the others.” Dan said, standing up and placing you on his back, allowing you to rest.

March followed behind, worried about what just happened…and worried if you were going to make it.

And as much as Dan didn’t want to admit it, he was just as worried as well.

The two of them traveled as fast as they could to get back to someone they knew who could help, and who they knew was close by.

Bailu

_________________________________

That’s all, my sweet readers! I hope you enjoyed this, and please, let me know if there are any mistakes or issues because I am always open to constructive criticism to help improve my writing! With that being said, I hope you all have a lovely rest of your day/night!

Taglist:

mysticparadisecrusade

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heroictoonz · 4 months

Text

Febuwhump 2022 Day 6: Hypothermia

Ships: Blue & Red

Warnings: N/A

AO3 L!nk in the Comments!

Finding Blue frozen in such a state was surprising to the red-clad hero and his new fairy friend. Red called out to the other and looked up and down at the block of ice. When the fairy reminded him of the fire wand in his possession, Red grabbed the weapon and unleashed its powers onto the crystal-like prison.

Once the ice had thinned enough the weight of Blue’s form caused the rest to shatter under him as he fell back. Red lunged forward to catch the other. He stiffened his legs so as not to give out under the sudden weight in his arms.

Red looked over at Blue. He seemed to be unconscious, his shivering form cold to the touch. His clothes felt damp and his face flushed. “Blue?” Red whined sadly. “Blue, please wake up!” His head snapped over to the fairy and he cried, “Fairy! What’s wrong with Blue?!”

The small being fluttered anxiously towards them. She looked over the unconscious hero before speaking, “He looks to be too cold. You should try to warm him up!”

Red fervorously scrubbed his arm across his eyes to keep any tears from forming as he nodded. He gently moved to lean Blue’s form against the cave wall. His lip quivered at the sight. Blue shouldn’t be sleeping like this! He should have exploded out of the ice with a loud yell. He should have been up and running off to try and find the others, or even Shadow. Seeing him in such a state only made Red want to cry.

“His clothes look wet!” the fairy cried out. “Hurry and get some of them off so they can dry off and Blue can get warm!”

Red looked up to the fairy. “Oh uh,” he muttered out, looking from Blue to the fairy. He pressed his fingers together and pouted. “He’s kinda heavy, though. Do I have to?”

“Red!” the fairy hissed out angrily. “His life could be in danger!”

Red made a call of surprise and flinched at her tone. Ah. Right. Bigger picture here. He bit the inside of his lip and pushed his focus to maneuvering the top layer of Blue’s damp tunic off. That should help at least some. Red put the garment to the side flat to try and help it dry out.

Red then moved to grab the fire wand. He pushed it towards Blue, careful not to touch and accidentally burn his skin. Red closed his eyes to try and focus on the wand. Magic was a frustrating thing at times and if he wasn’t careful he could only do more harm than good. He focused on keeping the heat emanating from the wand lower. Still hot enough to warm up the body before him, but not enough to cause an actual flame.

Time felt so slow. It felt as though he had been doing it for hours. He wanted nothing more than to grab Blue and shake the other awake. Though, Red didn’t even know if that would work. That thought scared him more than anything else.

After a bit, he heard the other shift. Red’s eyes shot open at the sound, watching as Blue’s own eyes opened slowly. He let out a groan of confusion. Red, in his joy, threw his arms into the air, sending the wand flying. He grabbed the confused hero and pulled him into a tight embrace.

Blue let out a grunt of surprise at the action.

“Blue!” Red called loudly. “You’re alive!”

“Wh- I’m-?” Blue squeezed his eyes closed to try and get his foggy brain to clear up. It didn’t do all that much. “‘Course I’m alive, dumbass,” he grumbled out weakly. He let out another groan and pulled himself out of the hug. He opened his mouth to speak again only to be cut off by a loud sneeze. The sound caused both Red and the fairy to jump as it reverberated through the cave.

“Oh no!” Red cried as he suddenly launched forward and shoved his hands onto Blue’s face. Running both palms against his forehead then to his cheeks, squashing them in.

Blue made a sound of upset as he swatted at the hands.

“The ice made you sick!” Red gasped as he pulled his hands away.

“You manhandling me is what’s making me sick right now!” Blue yelled out angrily. However, the energy used for such an exclamation took more than he had. His head crashed into a dizzy feeling and he quickly placed it into his hands and groaned.

Red’s hands shot to his mouth in worry. “Oh! Here!” He pulled off his own tunic and shoved it into Blue’s hands. “Yours is still drying! But you should stay warm!”

Blue looked down at the bright fabric with his brows furrowed in confusion. He let out a huff before pulling it on. “Fine,” he mumbled. “But we gotta switch back before we meet up with the others or it’ll get confusing.”

Red nodded. He then realized the wand was no longer in his hand. He quickly twisted and turned til he found it and grabbed it. He let the ball on the end erupt in flames before setting it up beside them. “To help keep us warm!” He smiled at the other. “You should warm up and rest before we head off to look for the others!”

“What!” Blue hissed in refusal. “No way! We gotta go look for them and then find that stupid shado-wachu!”

Red frowned as the other wiped away his sneeze. “Nuh uh! No way!” Red pushed his hands to Blue’s shoulder with a serious expression. Or at least as serious as he could look. “You’re not going anywhere until you have at least some of your strength back!”

Blue moved to protest but was startled by another sneeze. He gave a groan and crossed his arms with a huff. “Fine,” he hissed out.

Red’s face pulled into a wide smile, happy to have won the argument so easily. He moved to settle next to the other against the wall. “I’ll take a nap with you!” He cheered out.

“What! No way! Sleep on your own side of the cave!” Blue hissed out at the other, shoving him away by his face.

Red let out a laugh. “Aw! But it’ll help you warm up faster! Ya, know like with body heat!”

Blue crossed his arms again. “Who said I wanted your heat! I can make my own just fine!”

Red gave another laugh. “That doesn’t even make any sense!” He pushed into the other’s side and relaxed against him.

“Hey-!” Blue gave another sharp sneeze, cutting off any protest. He let out a groan as he decided he was too tired to keep arguing. Instead, he relaxed into the other and let his eyes close. The warmth of the fire and Red luling him to sleep.

#legend of zelda #four swords #legend of zelda four swords #blue link #red link #sickfic #whump #febuwhump #febuwhump 2022 #writing #fan fic #fan fiction #toonz writing

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thornethenorn · 2 months

Text

Commander Week Day 7 - Aurene

Written like the Story Journal. At least attempted to

-----

There’s really nothing to journal about. I woke up, learned about my short coma, and now my own daughter Aurene won’t let me leave because I’m “still hurt.”

But, I’ve written about all of my adventures, and I’m bored to all hell. So, I might as well do something to pass the time. It won’t be as interesting as describing my epic battles against dragons, but I’m in so much need of something to do.

-----

My hip is aching again. Aurene told me to sit in the water, and I didn’t want to explain that it didn’t have anything to do with being shot. So, now I’m wet and cold. Yay for me.

Another lasting mark from a near-death experience.

I hadn’t told anyone that my hip had gotten caught when Kralkatorik attacked me. Don’t get me wrong, I would have been all crystal if Aurene hadn’t stepped in, and I’m grateful she did. Yet, the agony of brand lodging in to my skin while breaking about 5 different bones isn’t something I’ll forget any time soon.

It hadn’t spread any further from the wound, so I went off and killed Kralkatorik. It was only when I had a moment to breathe when I hid in Thunderhead Keep and started ripping crystals from my skin. Spirits, it hurt- too much flesh came with it. Yet, I had managed to completely remove the crystals without anyone but Rytlock knowing I had been branded. I swore him to secrecy and he helped me bandage up the wound I had caused.

But… sitting in the pool does feel… better, I guess.

?/?/?

I had another night terror again. Apparently it was a bad one. I certainly remember the nightmare that went with it- that was a bad one, too.

The wound in my chest had flared up again, and… it felt like… him.

That’s why I didn’t dodge the arrow. Rytlock had asked me that at some point. He and I both knew I could have. I didn’t tell him- I just said I had been cold. Judging by the fact I am norn and the low growl he offered me, he probably didn’t believe that.

I could have dodged it. I really could’ve.

But I froze. I froze. Norn don’t freeze when faced with danger.

And yet, when I saw the flaming arrow, my mind went blank. I felt afraid. Fire had never been the same comfort to me after what he did to me. I can’t sleep anymore. I mean, I already wrote about last night- it might have been worse, but the others aren’t all that great either. Aurene says it's okay- that she doesn’t need sleep, and she likes taking care of me. I should be taking care of her, really I appreciate it.

She asks me if I want to talk about it sometimes.

Usually, I answer by asking her back. If my pain that day had bothered her enough to fly halfway across the continent to fight a god as a baby, it couldn’t have been a breeze for her mental health, either. Then, she was kidnapped, force-fed god magic, and immediately started fighting her grandfather.

Of course she knows all of this, but she always answers with something along the lines of “I don’t mind discussing it. That’s why I asked.” Then I’m forced to admit that no, I don’t want to talk about it.

Four years old, and she’s already outsmarting me.

-----

I wandered around the Eye of the North today. Not anywhere outside of Aurene’s chamber, since she’s smart enough to know that I would try to escape back to the fight. But I wandered anyway. She said it was good that I was walking normally, without pain.

I’m always in pain. I know that. She knows that. I think she was just trying to cheer me up.

There wasn’t much ‘bad’ today, actually. I played with Ivory. She showed Aurene some silly little tricks, then demanded I give her treats. I’m glad. Ever since I’ve been hurt, she’s been depressed, but she seems to be cheering up. She’s playing ‘catch’ with my tail right now- in which she bats it until it flicks away, then she pounces on it. At first it was involuntary and very annoying, but eventually I just started flicking it around for her to chase on purpose.

Aurene mentioned my tail.

“You keep Ivory’s fur pristine, but you’ve let your tail get matted. Why?”

Thorne wrinkled his nose. “Don’t have time.”

“But you have time to get little outfits for your companion?”

“They make her happy!”

Little outfits do, in fact, make her happy. She loves little outfits.

Aurene said that I’m going to have to shave the mats out. I will not do that, as I think all of my fur is matted.

-----

Aurene made me shave my tail. Does it feel better? Yeah, but now I’m cold and my tail looks stupid. Too angry to write today.

-----

Now that my tail grew some of its fur back, I feel less angry.

Aurene told me more about what being an Elder Dragon was like. How it felt to feel ley lines so strongly you feel like you can see them, or the feeling of magic flowing through you and purifying it as you absorbed it.

She also asked me to show her the new magic I've been working on. I was happy to oblige, and showed her a few fire tricks. She nods and hums when I explain how it works, despite knowing exactly how elemental magic was done.

I love her. I hope she never forgets that.

I never will. She saved me. More than once, but especially after Joko captured me. Whatever state of mind break I had been in, it was her voice that allowed me some sense long enough to distract him before she tore apart the undead lich king like jerky.

I don't know if she knows what really happened when I was in captivity- the enchantment Joko put on my choker muffled our bond after all, which is why it took so long for her to find me. With his death, the enchantment was gone, and I felt her concern for me then. I almost started crying right then, but I just allowed her to carry me on her back, back to safety.

Back to my our family.

#gw2 #guild wars 2 #guildwars2 #gw2commanderweek #gw2 commander #pact commander #gw2 oc #gw2 community #norn #aurene #aurene gw2 #thorne vætkisson

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coldsandfluff · 2 years

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The Owl Teacup (F/M, Original, Illness Care-Taking Fluff)

Still working on bringing over my sickfics from the forum over to Tumblr. This one is about a woman going on a blind date with a doctor, but she's coming down with a cold, and he notices. As usual, full of fluff and gentle care-taking.

The Owl Teacup

“Still here?”

Leonie blinked, pulled from her deep concentration by her coworker’s husky, warm voice. She slid her gaze from the brightly lit monitor to her office door just a few feet behind. Her eyes took forever to adjust to the distance shift after being locked on spreadsheets for hours. She could barely make out Lisa’s small silhouette backlit by the bright hallway.

Leonie struggled to swim back to reality, stuck in a hyperfocused haze of numbers and calculations. “What time is it?” She darted her eyes back at the screen and checked the computer clock. How could time fly by so fast?

“Almost 8:30 pm. When is your date?” Lisa took a step in the small, dark office. She reached for the light switch, but decided against it at the last second.

Leonie groaned, rubbing her face with both of her hands. “9:00 pm. I should just cancel. I’m definitely coming down with something.” She swallowed tentatively, and sure enough, there it was. A soreness deep in her throat, and a heavy, swollen feeling in the back of her palate. She’d been feeling under the weather for the past two days, downing orange juice every morning. She’d even tried a few fizzy vitamin C powder packets mixed with water, which tasted nothing like their advertised flavor.

“You can’t cancel again! He’s going to think you’re toying with him,” said Lisa. She took a seat in the hard plastic chair in front of Leonie’s desk.

Leonie hated those chairs. They made her feel like her body was a collection of sharp bones arranged just the perfect way to dig painfully into the plastic. A proletarian’s torture device.

“But Lisa, I’m sick! How rude would—“As if to illustrate her point, Leonie’s nose caught fire, twitching under the assault of a fierce tickle. Leonie sucked a breath through her mouth before catching a sneeze into the crook of her elbow. “Heh—TSHHiu!”

“OK, now you’re just being dramatic,” said Lisa, laughing. “Isn’t he a doctor anyway? He’s used to this kind of stuff. All you have to do is get through a one- or two-hour dinner, make a good enough impression for a second date, and you’re golden. You can work the charm later.”

Leonie grabbed a tissue from a box tucked neatly in her top drawer. “You just want me to go because he’s a doctor.” She blew her nose with one hand, blinking away the wetness in her teary eyes.

Sick or not, she had no desire to go. Her mother had arranged this date, which added insult to injury. Dating was too daunting for Leonie. Too many variables, too many emotions difficult to control. There was a reason she’d chosen to become an accountant. Numbers were her solace, a reprieve from her constantly brimming mind.

In fact, if she could choose right now between spending the night working on taxes, like she’d been doing for the past week, and going on a two-hour date with Dr. Vo, she’d pick work in a heartbeat.

“Come on,” said Lisa, her voice low and daring. “You don’t even sound sick yet. He won’t notice.” She cocked her head to the side. “If you can keep your nose in check, that is.”

Leonie sighed. Lisa was right; she’d already canceled twice because of work, hence the very late dinner date. And her mother would hold it against her if she didn’t at least try to meet the guy. She’d tell everyone in the neighborhood, including the cashier at her favorite grocery store, that her eldest daughter never listened to her and would end up alone, and did she ever tell them about this nice doctor she once tried to set her up with, and how much Leonie’s life would have been different if only she’d followed her dear old mother’s advice?

“Fine,” said Leonie, before hastily grabbing another tissue and burying her nose in it, her eyelids fluttering. “Ehh’NGXXT!”

“That’s pretty good! Just stifle them like that when he’s not looking. Won’t notice a thing.”

Leonie scoffed, wiping her nose. “Just a simple ‘bless you’ would suffice, Lisa.”

“Oh, bless you bless you bless you. Now come on, get out of here before you’re late!”

****

Night had fallen like a curtain and now draped over the city, dotted by street lamps casting their glow on the sidewalks. Leonie walked from spotlight to spotlight, readjusting the thin scarf around her neck. She regretted not choosing a thicker one this morning, and she especially regretted changing into a little black dress for her date. Goosebumps traveled in waves over her exposed legs with each gust of wind.

The wind was freezing, hailing from the last breath of winter. March had always been a moody, unpredictable month in New England. One day, spring almost veered into early summer, and the next, snowfalls wrecked havoc on the morning commute. No wonder Leonie had caught a cold. How was one supposed to dress in March?

Leonie felt a buzz in her coat pocket. Another text from her mom.

Mom: Ask him what he misses about Vietnam.

Leonie rolled her eyes. It was the tenth conversational tip her mom had sent today, all of them regarding something Vietnamese. His favorite Vietnamese dish, how to say “good morning” in Vietnamese, his thoughts about the Vietnam War (!), and other clumsy, Vietnamese-obsessed questions.

Leonie: I get that he’s Vietnamese, mom, but I don’t think he wants to talk about his heritage all evening. Plus, wasn’t he born here?

Mom: I’m just trying to help!

How had Leonie gotten to this point in her life? Single at thirty-four, going on a blind date arranged by her own mother, desperate enough to brave the unpredictable weather with a blossoming cold just in case the man turned out to be dating material. The probabilities were against her, and she knew it. Her mind was mathematical, yet her heart never listened.

Leonie sniffled as a gust of wind made her eyes and nose water. Her sinuses felt hot and heavy.

A pang of nostalgia and sadness hit her square in the chest. She missed her ex the most when she was sick. She had this crisp memory of him bringing her a cup of tea in bed when she’d caught a cold, right before they broke up. He’d chosen her favorite mug, the one shaped like an owl. After placing it on her nightstand, he’d lovingly kissed her forehead. One last shred of tenderness before it all turned sour.

It was over a year ago, and yet Leonie still longed for that moment whenever she felt vulnerable. If she were a superhero, this would be her weakness. A dash of rhinovirus and a cup of hot tea: her very own Kryptonite. Enough to turn her into a blubbering, needy mess.

Her phone still in her hand, she navigated to the contact list, as she’d done thousands of times before, flicking right to Mike’s phone number. She glanced down at it as she walked, knowing that she wouldn’t call, and yet feeling comforted that if she wanted to, she could.

But he probably wouldn’t answer.

She pocketed her phone, and instead fished a packet of tissues. Her runny nose had turned devilishly tickly. Leonie took a few shallow breaths, trying to hold in the sneeze while she fumbled with the tape on the cellophane. She stopped walking to focus on the task at hand, her eyes half-closed and her head tilting, as if pulled back by the tickle in her sinuses. Her fingers tore impatiently at the packet, but it was too late. She doubled over, sneezing uncovered towards the ground.

“Hehh—TSSHHiu!”

A passerby jumped out of the way, startled. “Geez, bless you!”

He continued on his way without waiting for a thank you, chuckling at his own reaction. Leonie’s face had turned lava red, her skin scalding from embarrassment.

A few blocks away, Dr. Vo probably waited for her at the bar & grill he’d chosen.

Leonie was five minutes late, Kryptonite-riddled, and ready for the night to be over.

****

This isn’t too bad, Leonie tried to convince herself as she took a sip of iced water, menu in hand. She was sitting in front of Dr. Vo, or Patrick, as he’d insisted that she calls him.

The fact that he wasn’t 60 years old had somehow managed to shock her. She, of course, knew he was in his late 30s; her mother had told her so, but Leonie still refused to believe that doctors could be her age. She always imagined them to be the good old doctors who needed glasses to write up a prescription, with their wrinkly hands and grandfatherly smile. She’d forgotten that she was now at the age where doctors could even be YOUNGER than her. How horrifying.

But Patrick was far from horrifying. Leonie looked at him over her menu. He had the kindess eyes she’d ever seen. His angular face softened the moment he locked eyes with you, his whole face alive in a quiet, yet intense focus. His black hair peppered with gray reinforced his calm and composed demeanor. In an emergency, Patrick seemed like the type of person to take control and keep everyone settled.

“Should we get any appetizers? You must be starving after working so late,” said Patrick, lowering his menu and giving her a sympathetic look. “I hear their mozzarella sticks are delicious.”

Leonie had to concentrate on Patrick’s lips to make out what he was saying. The bar & grill was packed with people. The buzzing of conversation had reached the noise level of a spaceship launch, rumbling through her brain and giving her a headache.

“Sure, that sounds good!” she said, trying to sound excited.

They sat in silence for another minute, eyes glancing over the laminated menu. Leonie realized that she hadn’t mentally prepared for this date. Not only had she somehow expected Patrick to be an old, almost-retired doctor, but conversation subjects also eluded her. She tried to form interesting questions in her mind, but the noise and a brewing tickle in her sinuses made it incredibly hard to concentrate.

“So my mother mentioned that you’re Vietnamese? Do you speak the language?” she blurted out without taking her eyes from the menu. The bitter taste of instant regret filled her mouth. She’d sworn that she would stay far away from any dumb questions about his ethnicity. Thanks, mom.

“I’m actually Japanese.”

Leonie’s heart dropped. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I—“

“No, no, I’m joking! I’m Vietnamese,” said Patrick with an uneasy chuckle. “I apologize, I tend to make terrible jokes when I’m nervous.”

Leonie looked at him in shock, her eyes wide. And then burst out laughing. Patrick joined in, until they were both laughing so hard that people glanced at them from the neighboring tables.

The joke had been so unexpected, and the delivery so impeccable, that Leonie’s nerves had turned into uncontrollable giggles. And just like that, the tension between them disappeared.

“Your deadpan is amazing,” said Leonie, out of breath and almost euphoric from the laughter.

“So I’ve been told, but it gets me in trouble sometimes,” replied Patrick, back to his initial composure. “And to answer your question, I do not speak Vietnamese. My parents both moved here when they were young and spoke English to me. They know Vietnamese, but they didn’t pass it on to me, sadly.”

The waiter interrupted them, introducing himself and asking if they were ready to order. While Patrick asked about their selection of beers, Leonie sniffled, feeling the tickle growing more intense. A sneeze was definitely brewing. She picked up her menu and tried to hide behind it.

The burning sensation traveled from the back of her sinuses to the right side of her nose. Leonie itched a few breaths, praying that Patrick wouldn’t finish ordering before the sneeze came. She folded her index finger under her nose, while keeping the menu up with the other hand. Finally, her head bobbed towards her chest.

“Ehh… Hh! IIH’GNXTT!”

She gave a little sniff and let out a sigh of relief. With the amount of ambient noise, Patrick couldn’t have heard the stifle.

“And for you, miss?”

Leonie lowered her menu, looking up at the waiter in confusion.

“Anything to drink?” he said politely, pen and paper in hand.

“Oh! I’ll have a glass of Riesling, thank you.” She winced at how congested her voice sounded. She sniffled again, trying to act casual, and glanced back at Patrick.

Hopefully he hadn’t noticed anything.

****

The ice had been proverbially shattered.

Much to Leonie’s surprise, she and Patrick had fallen into conversation as naturally as old friends who hadn’t seen each other in forever. For the next hour, not a second of silence had a chance to settle between them.

The only interruptions came from the waiter, who brought them their drinks and a plate of mozzarella sticks. Patrick had eaten half of the appetizer, and politely left the other half for Leonie, but she wasn’t particularly hungry. At least the wine had dulled her senses, along with her symptoms. Patrick was also keeping her entertained, recounting stories of his childhood camping trips. Leonie practically forgot her burgeoning illness.

But shortly after they sent the waiter away for the fifth time, asking for “a little bit more time” to make a decision on their entrees, Leonie’s nose decided it was done being ignored.

She felt the telltale signs of a sneeze deep within her sinuses, but gave it no mind, focusing instead on Patrick’s story.

“…parents would let us pitch our own tent further in the woods…”

However, the tickle grew exponentially stronger, sending a shiver down Leonie’s back. She tried to quell it by pushing her tongue up her palate, but it didn’t make a dent in the sneeze’s progression. When she sniffed, the tickle sizzled like a splash of water on burning coal.

“…left the tent pole at the camp, but after making such a fuss with the parents…”

This wasn’t going to be a one-off sneeze that Leonie could hide behind a menu. Despite her eyes watering, she tried to maintain an interested smile, nodding along at the story. But she was no longer paying attention, her focus consumed by the ravenous tickle making its way down her nose.

“…shapeless tarp on the ground, and all sorts of nocturnal animals that…”

She could feel her eyes closing involuntarily, her nose scrunching ever so slightly. She had to act fast, but wasn’t sure what do to. Risk a snotty, sneezing fit in front of her date and humiliate herself, or interrupt his story and run to the restroom, making him think that she battled some sort of digestive trouble.

Ultimately, she just couldn’t trust her nose.

“…didn’t end up sleeping much, staring at the stars and waiting for—“

“I’m s—so sorry Patrick, could you eh… excuse me a second?”

Leonie grabbed her purse and headed towards the restroom behind Patrick, trying her best to act as normal as possible. Her lips parted, her breath hitched. She had almost reached the restroom’s door when the tickle took complete hold of her nose.

“EHH’NNGGXXT!”

Leonie stumbled forward in her heels under the force of the stifle, but held her balance. She prayed that Patrick wasn’t watching her right now, wondering why she’d left so abruptly. She pushed the door to the ladies’ room without glancing back.

She locked herself in a stall, rolling a wad of toilet paper around her hand while the next sneeze built up. Her eyes were streaming from the intensity of the burn in her sinuses, and she longed for some relief.

She leaned back on the stall door and gave herself fully to the fit.

“EEHT’SSSHHiu!! EHHh… TSSHHHH! NNT’SSHHiu!”

Leonie buried her nose in the rough toilet paper, catching every sneeze, but she wasn’t done. Mucus had loosened up in her nose and spawned another irresistible tingle. She threw the used wad of paper in the toilet and grabbed another one, rubbing her nose furiously with it. She gave a tiny, liquid sniffle, which was enough to trigger another set of itchy sneezes.

She breathed one urgent, quivering lungful of air and covered her nose with the toilet paper. The sneezes came hard and fast, riding on the same breath and leaving her panting.

“EHH’TSSSHHUU—TSSSHiu! TSSHH—Tssshh—Tshhh…!”

She gasped, and one last, powerful sneeze echoed in the empty restroom. “HEHH’TSSHHHIIUUU!!”

Finally, the tickle was gone.

Leonie blinked away the tears. She blew her nose a few times to clear her sinuses as much as possible, but the damage was done. The cold had now officially taken over.

****

When Leonie rejoined the table, a fresh glass of wine was waiting for her. Patrick smiled, but didn’t mention anything about her sudden escape to the restroom. Polite and considerate, no wonder Leonie’s mother wanted her to meet him.

Leonie took a sip of her wine, struggling with the throbbing pressure behind her eyes and nose. The restaurant had somehow gotten louder. Groups of people were laughing raucously, enjoying drinks and relaxing after a hard week. The lights had been dimmed even more, and music blared through the speakers peppered around the room, some fast tempo with a lot of bass. The bar & grill was turning into a club & grill.

Patrick said something to Leonie, but she couldn’t understand him.

“Not hungry?” he repeated louder, pointing at the mozzarella sticks. Crap. This poor man had waited until 9 pm to meet her for dinner, and all he’d had to eat was half a measly appetizer.

“Sorry, I’ve been working such long hours, I forget what it’s like to be a human being,” she joked. “But please, you should order dinner!”

“I would tell you that skipping meals is not good for your health, but I myself had to skip lunch today to squeeze a patient in… and then broke down at 7 pm and ate a sandwich. Or two.”

Leonie laughed. “What a great pair we make, unable to feed ourselves like real human beings.” She bit her bottom lip. Maybe using the word “pair” was a little too strong on the first date.

“Busy lives, busy minds,” he said, shrugging. “We always find a way to make it work.”

“Speaking of which, thank you for not giving up on me after I rescheduled twice.”

He chuckled. “Well, your mother had great things to say about you. I couldn’t pass this chance.”

Leonie almost choked on her sip of wine. “Wait, you talked to my mother directly? I thought this was a mother-to-mother kind of deal?”

“Oh no, she’s a patient of my partner at the clinic. He introduced us a few months ago when she came for her annual exam. She called the office a couple of times to make sure that you and I would meet.”

Leonie was fuming. “I’m so sorry! I can’t believe she pestered you like that…”

“Don’t be. I’m glad that she did. I’m having a great time.”

Leonie blushed, unable to keep from smiling. It was too early to call, but she really did enjoy his company. She hated to admit that her mom was right, but despite her illness, Leonie felt comfortable around Patrick. Maybe she was finally ready to move on and share her life with someone new.

She shook her head. This was classic Leonie; getting ahead of herself. She’d met the guy less than an hour ago, and she was already imagining moving in with him and having kids. What was wrong with her. How about enjoying the present and the casualness of hanging out with someone for a while? Why did everything have to be so serious with her?

Suddenly, she longed to go back to the office and bury her head in numbers.

As Leonie took another sip of wine, she tipped the glass over her nose a little deeper, and got a whiff of the fruity, sweet perfume of the drink. For some reason, it irritated her sinuses. Her nose twitched under the glass while she finished her sip. She swallowed quickly, knowing a sneeze was impending, but she barely had time to lower the glass. It came so fast that she didn’t have time to formulate a plan on how to subdue it. She reflexively turned to the side and brought a loose fist under her nose to lessen the inevitable spray.

“Ehh’TSHHiu!” She kept her knuckles over her nose, embarrassed to sneeze at the dinner table like this, so close to food. Even if no one was eating it.

“Bless you.”

Leonie lifted her head to thank Patrick. He was looking at her, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes even kinder than before, which seemed almost impossible. Leonie sniffed and winced at how wet it sounded, further adding to her embarrassment. At least her nose wasn’t overly runny. Yet.

“How about we go somewhere more quiet?” said Patrick over the noise of laughter from a neighboring table.

Leonie nodded, rubbing at her nose. Patrick dropped a few bills on the table, and they filed out of the restaurant, avoiding eye contact with the poor server who’d tried taking their order about a million times.

****

As soon as they stepped outside, Leonie let out a sigh of relief. The night was cold and quiet, and the moon tiptoed in the sky.

Leonie welcomed the contrast. Because her ears had overadjusted to the loudness of the bar, sounds now appeared muffled to her. She always loved that feeling. It was like walking through cotton balls, enveloped by clouds and protected from the sharp edges of the world.

“The nights have gotten so cold these past few days,” said Patrick, rubbing his hands together.

Leonie nodded and took a deep breath, enjoying the refreshing cold wind on her face. Her nose, however, did not particularly like it. She gave a pathetic little sniff to keep it from running too much without alerting Patrick, but all it did was set off another tickle. Great, she thought. Nowhere to hide.

Patrick stood right in front of her. “Let me see if there’s any coffee shops open late around here.” He grabbed his phone from his pocket. “If you still want to hang out, of course,” he added, lifting his gaze from his screen to await Leonie’s answer. He then paused, studying her face curiously while she fought the tickle.

Oh to hell with it, Leonie thought. She lifted her index finger and muttered, “I’m sorry, I gotta sn—sneeze… hhHH! IIH’TSSHiiu!”

She turned to her side, sneezing in her elbow. A couple of small coughs escaped her throat as she regained composure.

“Leonie—“ started Patrick, but Leonie interrupted him with her index finger once again.

“H—Hold on… EHH’TSSHHiu! TSSHHHiu!”

“Bless you.” Patrick took a packet of tissues from his coat’s inner pocket and offered it to Leonie. “You must be coming down with something.” He said it with such kindness that Leonie’s Kryptonitis tingled deep within her chest. “As a doctor, I would advise you to go home and rest, drink plenty of fluids…”

Leonie took out a tissue from the pack and wiped her nose. There was a “but” in his tone, which immediately soothed her embarrassment at being found out so easily.

“But as I said earlier, I really enjoy your company, so I’d like to offer you a quick cup of tea before I send you home. Of course, if you really don’t feel good, we can reschedule.”

Leonie knew that the correct course of action was to cut her losses. End it while Patrick was still somewhat into her, and try again later. She could hear Lisa in her head. “You’ve got him in your pocket, get out before it turns ugly.” But then again, wasn’t he a doctor? Lisa had said it herself: he was used to this.

Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was the low-grade fever creeping up on her, but Leonie felt daring. Almost adventurous, which didn’t often happen to her. She didn’t want to go home and lay in bed, feeling lonely. She wanted to hear more of Patrick’s stories and…

And get that cup of tea.

“I’d love some tea,” she said with a smile. “If you don’t mind all the sneezing…”

Patrick chuckled. “I may only be a family doctor, but I have stories that would make even the worst sneeze pale in comparison. But I usually keep those for the second date, so you will have to wait. Now come on, the coffee shop is only a few blocks away. Let’s get you out of the cold.”

****

Silence befell them at last, peaceful and comfortable. As they walked, Leonie listened to the sound of their steps on the sidewalk: a chorus of arrhythmic patters, one high and thin, the other low and full. The wind ran over buildings like a ghost, howling and whistling.

Shivers had started running up and down Leonie’s spine. Her bones felt oddly floaty, and her eyes burned. Yet her spirits ran high. Definitely a buzz from the wine, but also from her fever. She could feel it on her cheeks and her nape. Low-grade, for sure. She tended to run a temperature when she had a cold, and it always gave her a tipsy-like feeling.

She thought of Mike and then decided not to, mentally scribbling over the image of his face. She stole a glance at Patrick. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were fixed on the ground. Was he thinking of his ex, too?

Was this what dating would be like from now on? Missing what was lost, hoping to find it in a stranger? Jumping from one ex to the future other? She shook her head. Stop it with the depressing thoughts.

“Oh, what is this?” said Patrick next to her, stopping in his track. He was pointing at a small alley in which a wall was painted black and covered in colorful writing.

Leonie approached the wall. “It’s a ‘Before I die…’ wall! I’ve heard about it a few months ago, but I’ve never seen one in real life. You’re supposed to use a piece of chalk to write down what you want to accomplish before you die.”

Inscriptions of different styles and angles, sizes and colors formed a beautiful jumble of hopes and dreams. Some were simple, like “Meet my neighbors,” while others were more humorous, such as “Find Atlantis.” Leonie loved the deeper ones, like “Make the world beautiful,” “Be an Iron Man,” “Forgive and be forgiven.”

“This is beautiful,” she murmured.

Patrick bent down to retrieve a few pieces of chalk on the ground. “This may be too heavy for a first date, but…” He handed Leonie a purple piece of chalk. “What do you want to accomplish before you die?”

Leonie picked it up. “Right back at you, of course.”

They both turned to the wall and took a moment to think about it. Leonie didn’t want to veer in the overly dramatic, but she also wanted to be honest. What would she wish to do before she died? What would she regret not achieving once on her death bed?

While Leonie struggled with the question, Patrick stepped up to the wall, choosing a blank spot above the rest. Although he was tall, he still needed to be on his tippy toes to write in big, loopy letters: “Make a true difference in the world.”

Leonie felt a tug at her heart. “You don’t feel like you’re making a difference by helping your patients, and even saving their lives?”

Patrick turned to face Leonie, a few deep wrinkles on his forehead. “Sometimes it feels like it’s not enough, or not big enough. The world is so vast and my influence so small. I’d like to see if I can do better than this.”

Leonie nodded, touched by his honesty.

She sniffled, her nose starting to run again. She walked up to the wall and lifted her head to write her own message. She squeezed it in between two other big wishes, her letters small and neat, as if she were writing it only for herself to see.

“Find my place in the world.”

As Leonie started the loop on the very last “d,” the wind picked up and blew a fine dusting of chalk at her face. She finished her letter, fighting a fierce tickle. Her breath hitching, her nose flaring, she took a few steps back without looking. She inadvertently stepped on a piece of chalked behind her and stumbled back.

Patrick, standing to her right, instantly reached his arm around her back to prevent her from falling. Leonie straightened up with his help, but the sneezes were unfazed by the near-fall. She managed to turn to her left, sneezing in the crook of her elbow while Patrick still had his hand on the small of her back, making sure she was stable. Their bodies were so close that Leonie could feel herself leaning against Patrick’s chest as each sneeze pushed her towards him.

“HH’IITSHHiu! Eh… EHH’TSSHHiu—Tshhh! NT’SSHHiuu!”

“Oh my, bless you!” said Patrick as he held on. “Are you alright?”

Leonie’s fevered cheeks were blazing hot. “Yes, I’m sorry, I…” Her voice cracked and she coughed a few times, stepping away from Patrick.

“No need to be sorry,” he said, his eyes still filled with worry. “But you don’t sound well. And you seem really flushed.”

He extended his hand, but hesitated halfway to Leonie’s face. However, his doctor instinct seemed to kick in, and his eyes locked in an almost professional resolve. He placed his palm on Leonie’s cheek first, and then the back of his hand on her forehead.

“This isn’t very accurate,” he said, holding out his hand, “but I’m fairly certain that you have a fever.”

Leonie nodded, sheepish, as if he was about to scold her. A shiver wracked her body, both from the fever and the fright of almost falling down.

“You’re shivering,” Patrick said, looking down at Leonie’s arms as she crossed them over her chest. “Let me drive you home.”

****

“Do you need anything?” Patrick asked, one hand still on the wheel of his car. They were idling in front of Leonie’s apartment building, the vents loudly blowing hot hair to keep them warm.

“Yes, I should be alright.” Leonie stared out of the fogged-up window. She felt awful. As much as she didn’t want to end the evening so soon, she longed for the safety and comfort of her own home. Inviting Patrick up would send the wrong message, even if it was just for coffee. Or tea. “I’d love to see you again… Once I’m better.”

“I’d love to as well.”

Leonie offered a parting smile and reached for the door handle when Patrick asked, “Do you have any medicine at home?”

Leonie paused. “Hmm. I think I have some ibuprofen or something like that.”

“I can go to the drugstore and get medicine if you would like. What are your symptoms?”

Leonie repressed a smile. Maybe Patrick didn’t want to end the night so soon either. “Headache, a bit of a fever, sore throat, sneezing, congestion… I think that’s it.”

“Go home and get warm. I’ll come back to drop off the supplies and then let you rest.”

Leonie nodded and gave him her apartment number, then stepped out of the car. She made her way up to the eighth floor and into her apartment with an odd feeling of irreality. As if her mind was floating out of her body, the stitches unseamed. The fever played a part in it, but so did the absurdity of the evening. She’d never had a date so… atypical.

And she kind of liked it.

Of course, she didn’t like being sick, but it had triggered a couple of very honest moments with Patrick. Her previous dating experiences had been quite different. Everything was usually all surface, like the hard shell on a sugar-coated candy. Except she never had the guts to bite hard enough to get to the center, too afraid of what kind of rotten flavor hid inside. It was like playing an unwanted game of Bertie Bott’s.

She turned on the lights in her studio apartment. The place was clean, as always, so there was no need to worry when Patrick would be back with the supplies. Her bed was made, the sink was empty. Everything was in its place.

She kicked off her heels, feeling the cold hardwood floor under her feet. Shivering, she turned on the heating and fetched a warm sweater and some thick socks from her dresser. She caught a glimpse or her pale face in the mirror. She didn’t look too bad. A bit tired, but her flushed cheeks and her glistening eyes could almost pass as a fresh face after a ski day.

Leonie sat on her bed and hugged a pillow to her chest. She looked out the huge window taking up almost the entire back wall of her apartment. She’d chosen this particular unit because of the window. In the distance, she could see traffic on the highway, surrounded by city lights. At night, it looked like a river of scintillating rubies dancing in a field of stars. It was mesmerizing.

But somehow tonight, her tiny studio felt vast and empty, and she longed for Patrick to come back. She resisted the urge to fetch her phone and scroll down to Mike’s name once again.

Staring out the window, Leonie tried to estimate the number of rubies dancing on the highway. How many would cross the river in an hour’s time, a month’s time, a year’s time? She focused on the digits flicking through her brain as she counted. Soon, her eyes blurred, and she was lulled into a gentle slumber.

****

A knock on the door pulled Leonie out of the void. She opened her eyes, disoriented. Her skin radiated warmth. One look at her clock told her that she’d been sleeping for about 25 minutes. She tried to sniffle, but her nose was completely blocked.

Another knock and Leonie remembered Patrick. My date. Who offered to buy medicine for me, she reminded her foggy brain. She stood up and swayed, her body shivering as though the bed had sucked out all of its warmth.

She opened the door. “Hey.”

“I’m back, sorry it took so long,” said Patrick, examining her with an almost clinical intensity. “I had a hard time finding a pharmacy open 24/7.”

Leonie stepped out of the way, inviting him in.

“I don’t want to impose—“ started Patrick, but Leonie waved her hand, as if to put an end to the back-and-forth niceties she didn’t have the energy for.

“Come in and warm up for a few minutes at least,” she said.

Patrick walked to the counter, admiring the large window and the clean studio. He put down a reusable canvas bag who’d clearly been “reused” quite a bit. It bore the name of the state University, where he’d probably studied.

“Come sit down, you’re swaying,” said Patrick.

Leonie nodded and sat on one of the stools at the breakfast counter. Her head felt heavy and her throat was scratchier than before. Napping had been a terrible idea. She felt sicker and drained of all energy. Every time she moved, it was like a northern wind blew across her skin and made her shiver.

She watched as Patrick unloaded the bag. A box of cold medicine, some throat lozenges and a thermometer.

“I wasn’t sure if you had one of these,” Patrick said, removing the thermometer from the package. “It’s good to keep track of your temperature and see if the medicine is working.”

He slid the device across the counter towards Leonie, who took it and slipped it under her tongue. She took a deep breath and pressed the button, closing her lips together. Hopefully it wouldn’t take too long. She could not breathe through her nose.

When it finally beeped, she exhaled with relief and looked at the results. “101.1, not too bad.”

Patrick nodded. “But it’s enough to make you feel bad.”

“I’ve been better,” she admitted, tempting a smile. “But I’ve been worse, too.” Her voice sounded rough and congested. She got up. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Nothing for me, thanks. I should let you sleep. I just wanted to make sure that you’d have everything you need.” He looked at Leonie as she walked around the counter to join him in the inner kitchen area. “But you need to keep yourself hydrated. Maybe some tea?”

Leonie nodded, her heart fluttering. A cup of tea.

She grabbed the kettle on the stovetop and turned to the sink.

Patrick extended his hand towards it. “Want me to make it for you?”

Leonie hesitated, but shook her head. “Nah, I got this. Thank you.” She filled the kettle and clicked on the gas. The flame popped and she fetched her mug. The mug. The one in the shape of an owl. She dropped a bag of lemon and ginger tea in it and set it down on the counter, waiting for the water to boil.

A tickled formed in the back of her throat. She tried to clear it, but it turned into a small cough that she caught in the crook of her elbow. She winced in pain.

“I can check your throat to make sure it’s just a cold,” offered Patrick. He chuckled. “Sorry, I’m having trouble keeping ‘Dr. Vo’ from taking over.”

Leonie giggled at how embarrassed he looked, a first since she’d met him. A crack in his polite, controlled behavior. It was adorable.

“If you can save me a trip to the doctor later on…” she said before heaving herself onto the counter. The cold marble seeped through her thin jeans and sent another shiver up her back, but this time it reverberated through her nose. A tickle quickly formed, and Leonie held a hand in front of Patrick as he approached her. He stopped, confused, but understood when he saw her eyes closing and her nostrils flaring.

Leonie tilted her head back as the prickle expanded. Her knuckle reached reflexively under her nose to quell the irresistible, exquisite itch, but it only seemed to enhance it. Her breath quivered as she inhale deeply and launched forward, bringing her sweater over her nose just in time.

“Hhhh… EHHT’SSHHHiu!”

She kept her collar over the lower half of her face, her eyes still shut, feeling the tickle build up again.

“EH’TSSHiiu!”

“Bless you,” said Patrick, his voice so tender that Leonie felt weak. “I’m so sorry you don’t feel good. Hopefully it’ll be over in a few days.”

Behind him, the kettle whistled. Patrick turned and picked it up, then filled the mug to the brim and set it down on the counter next to Leonie. She stared at it, sniffling, trying to keep her feelings under control.

“May I?” Patrick said, his hands towards her face. He was tall enough that they were almost face to face. Leonie nodded. When his hands first touched her on either side of her neck, goosebumps traveled like a wave on the map of her skin. She closed her eyes, breathing in through her mouth. His fingers felt cool on her hot skin, and rough from overwashing. He palpated her neck symmetrically on each side, below her jaw, feeling for swollen lymph nodes.

It should have felt cold and clinical. Even embarrassing. But somehow, it felt intimate and loving.

Patrick’s hands went down towards her throat, always gentle. Leonie opened her eyes and saw a look of concentration on his face. His eyebrows knitted, his eyes following his own movements. Leonie bit her bottom lip and glanced at the cup of tea steaming at her side.

Her mind was a blur of emotions, attraction, neediness, nostalgia, desire. How could she tell them apart, how could she know what was real and what was Kryptonite?

Patrick grabbed his phone and turned on the flashlight mode. “I’ll use this to look at your throat. Close your eyes so I don’t blind you.”

Leonie closed them, but as soon as Patrick turned his device towards her, the flash of light through her eyelids was enough to set off another tickle. She squeezed her eyes and lifted a hand.

“H—Hold… Ehh…”

Patrick quickly move the light away as Leonie turned to her side. She muffled a sneeze in her elbow.

“EHH’TSSHHHiiu!”

“Sorry,” Patrick chuckled. “Bless you. Better now?”

Leonie nodded, sniffling. At least the sneeze had cleared her mind a little. She shook her head and her shoulders, trying to loosen the fever’s grip.

Her nose behaved when Patrick tried again. She opened her mouth and said “Aaah” when asked. And just like that, the examination was over.

Patrick took a few steps back to give Leonie some space. “No signs of a serious infection in your throat. Some inflammation though, but that’s normal with a cold. Your lymph nodes are a bit swollen, so they might be tender for a few days. Like I said before, you need to rest. Sleep as much as you can, drink as often as you can. Don’t go to work tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow is Saturday,” said Leonie with a smile.

“I know, but you’ve been overworking yourself for the past two weeks,” Patrick countered, his voice stern with concern. “So I wouldn’t be surprised if you thought you absolutely needed to go in tomorrow to finish something. I have patients like you. Hardworking and loyal. But think about yourself first for a few days, alright?”

Leonie nodded, keeping her eyes down. He wasn’t exactly wrong.

“Alright, I’ll let you go back to sleep now.” Patrick pocketed his phone and looked around the studio one last time, as if making sure everything was in order before leaving.

Leonie slid down the counter without a word and went in for a hug. After a split second of surprise, Patrick closed his arms around her small, warm body and pressed her back gently. “I hope you feel better very soon.”

****

Once Patrick was gone, Leonie took the owl teacup and emptied it in the sink. She grabbed a different cup, steeped another bag. Then, she walked to the window and sipped her hot drink, watching the rubies flow.

In a few days, when she’d feel better, she’d call Patrick to ask him on another date.

But in the meantime, she’d just drink her tea.

And everything would be alright.

#sneezefic #sneeze fic #sickfic #caretaking #illnessfic #caretaking kink #sneeze kink #snz fic #care-taking #fever kink #illness kink #snzblr #snzfic

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ellayuki · 2 years

Text

08102022 - 9-1-1

one step too far (and closer to the breaking point)

Spec fic for 6x04, so spoilery

"You're upset," Buck says to Eddie's turned back and his too-straight shoulders. It's the end of the shift, and they've been getting changed to go home in a silence so thick, it makes Buck feel like crawling out of his own skin. "Eddie…"

Eddie slams the door of his locker shut, but doesn't turn around.

Instead he sighs, deep and disappointed, and if that doesn't feel like a damn gut punch. "Don't, Buck. Just. Don't even. You put yourself in front of a moving, speeding car tonight. Deliberately."

And yeah, alright, so he did, and Buck knows, okay? He does know it was fucking reckless, and stupid, and a too desperate attempt to save Chim that could have ended badly, to say the least.

He is very much aware.

Still, he can't make himself regret it, even after he got chewed out by Chimney himself, and then Hen, and then Bobby for good measure. Maddie's text, a simple 'Call me when you get home,' sits in his phone like a guillotine ready to drop.

Eddie moves, his forehead leaning against the closed, metal door, and from where Buck's standing just a handful of steps behind, his best friend suddenly looks small and defeated.

Buck hates it.

And it's then, suddenly, that something flickers in the back of Buck's mind, a nagging itch that turns into a hazy memory - a yellow dress and bright, red blood and hot, gray asphalt on a simple, sunny sidewalk.

Buck feels so fucking stupid. "I'm sorry."

Eddie laughs, something raw and cracked and wet, and Buck wants to fling himself into the Sun for making him sound like that. "Nothing I say will make a difference with you, will it." It's a statement more than a question, but it doesn't really feel like an accusation.

Still, Buck thinks he should defend himself. "It's not- It wasn't because- It was Chim, Eddie. I had to. I wouldn't be able to face Maddie or Jee if I didn't at least try to save him."

Eddie makes that broken sound again, and finally turns to face Buck. "And how will I face Christopher if you, too, died? And in yet another car accident? Huh? How would I ever be able to-" He bites his lip then, to cut himself off, and his eyes are red and shiny with unshed tears.

Buck wants to gather him in his arms and hide him away from all the things that add to the cracked places in his soul (even if one of those things is Buck himself). "I'm really sorry, Eddie. I am," he insists when Eddie scoffs.

"If you really were, then you'd stop doing shit like that," Four steps, and then Eddie's in Buck's space, grabbing him by the shoulders, shaking once and hard enough to rattle. "Get it through your thick skull that you have people who love you and who would be absolutely fucking devastated if you-" He takes a deep breath, like the word is too painful to say. "If you died."

And there's something in his eyes, in the way he looks at Buck in this moment (something so much like the love Buck craves but never even so much as dares to hope for), that has something crumble and catch fire in Buck's chest all at once.

Buck swallows down the knot in his throat that's choking him. He nods, his gaze never leaving Eddie's. "Alright. I- Yeah. Yeah, okay, Eds."

It's all he can say right now, wrapping his hands around Eddie's wrists and pulling him closer.

He knows it's not enough, not nearly, but for now, as he hugs Eddie tight, as they cling to one another in the station house's locker room, it's all he has.

#911 fox #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie #911 spoilers #911 #by moi #fic #my fic #2022 fic #911 fic #on ao3

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hope-to-hell · 1 year

Text

I’m back, baby! Writer Mike makes a surprise appearance, poor guy. The hollow where his heart should be. Mike. Mike x Reader, really. Angst, some body horror and gore, gross abuse of first-person pov. He really should be working on his novel, but he keeps having this dream.

—-

The thing is, babe— it’s been so long, so fucking long I’ve almost forgotten how to do this, how to reach inside my chest and grab the words. I have this idea that’s been kicking around the back of my mind, and it’s been driving me fucking crazy because I can’t do anything about it. It’s just this image, these little moments, and this feeling. It’s like I can see the shape of the story but it’s all hollow. I just. I can’t, not like this. Not when I keep having this dream.

There’s this bay of deep black water, iron fences, rusted steps that rise up with their sharp edges and they cut, babe, they cut and catch at my feet and I’m leaving bloody trails up and down but I can’t stop. I’m shredded raw, walking on bone but I have to move, into the water and back out again and I’m all wet and shivering, the salt water’s burning my lungs and I’m drowning, babe, right there between water and sky.

I dream about it every night. Maybe I’m in hell. They say it’s all fire and brimstone and red hot pokers but babe, hell is cold. It’s cold and lonely, like that last spike of adrenaline when you know you’re gonna die and it’s gonna hurt real bad. I just know there’s chains down below and every time I go down the steps they stab their hooks in me. They, yeah. I mean those strangers in the dark with their faces like dead things; they throw their chains and they’re catching at my feet, my hands, my heart, but when I go up again it’s like some awful dream within a dream and it’s just step after step, over and over again forever. I can’t. I can’t do it but I have to anyway.

It’s like I’m a puppet, babe, and these chains pull me wherever they want because I can feel them even when they aren’t there, when they’re coiled up with them down in the dark. There’s rust in my blood like poison; it’s theirs because somehow they’re sipping pain wherever they go and every time I take a step they dig their nails into me. And my feet are gone, babe, just bones all shiny from seawater cause they’ve been worn away and I can’t look but I have to look. They keep saying bear witness and it has to be a dream but those aren’t my words and it’s not my voice. They won’t let me stop until I’m all used up, all worn away. I feel like even then it wouldn’t stop. They’d just find another way to make it hurt.

I know I’ve been a pain lately, babe, but please— please— be patient with me just a little longer. I have to beat this, but I don’t know how. I’m so tired and I wake up soaked with sweat and aching in the middle of the night. I think it’s sweat, at least. It better be, because I don’t know what I’d do if it was water, if I found myself drowning in the blankets. It’s already bad enough the way moonlight shines through the window; I remember breathing you in while you named the stars, when you pointed up and said there’s the Lovers, but I already had my hands under your shirt and I didn’t hear the words til later. But the moonlight shifts like wavelets on a quiet sea and when I wake up I’m scrambling back against the headboard and my lungs are burning.

I try to force myself to write, to catch lightning in a bottle. The publisher keeps calling, saying Mikey, baby, where’s the manuscript? Give us anything you’ve got, come on, that advance must be running out, god dammit Michael have you heard of breach-of-contract, but every time I try to write I slip away into the sea and the blinking cursor on my laptop becomes that tap-tap-tap of bones on iron. I’ve got nothing, not even outlines, not even ideas except this stuff I’m telling you, but I don’t think you can slap a half-naked hunk on the cover and call this shitshow a romance. Babe. I can’t. I don’t know what to do.

The dream is getting closer, and I know it doesn’t make any sense but I can hear the soughing of water and wind even in the daytime now, even here: I’m a thousand miles away from the sea and still I feel it. Everything I touch cuts sharp like salt and I can hear them in every step, every breath. I look in the mirror and I see iron and blood; they’re calling to me and I’m saying no for now but I’m so scared, babe. I just want this to be over, to wake and feel you with me in this bed. I want you to name the stars with me again. I want to lie down and feel the warm earth bake into my bones. I want, I want, but I’m falling apart and I don’t know where some of the pieces have gone. I think the parts of me I’ve lost are with them in the dark.

Remember when you found me all hollow in the cold? I still had soil in my hair and I swore up and down my chest was torn open but you looked— you lifted up my shirt and said your heart’s still beating. You laid your head against my chest and tapped out a rhythm on my ribs. You said either way, the scar’s the same. You said I’m with you now and you. And you— oh, babe. I want— when I told you I had another story in me, when I said I needed just a little bit of quiet— I didn’t think this would be it. My whole mind is ocean and rust and that tap tap tap; I’m drifting down and I’m so afraid of climbing up again, of bearing witness to my own dissolution, but then again I know what's waiting down below.

#henry cavill #mike (hellraiser)#mike (hellraiser) fic #mike (hellraiser) x reader #mike (hellraiser) x you #hellraiser hellworld #hellraiser #hellraiser fic #my fic #canon? what’s that?#writer mike

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ficbrish · 1 year

Text

Black Spot (aka Shenko Pirates) Chapter 6

"Days break. As do vows." [AO3]

Rating: Explicit, 18+ only

Tags: Prompt Fic, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Enemies to Lovers, Pirate Captain Shepard, Navy Admiral Kaidan Alenko, Renegade Shepard (Mass Effect), Renegade Kaidan Alenko, Biotic Shepard (Mass Effect), Some Plot, POV Alternating, Eventual Smut, Shameless Smut, Oral Sex, Rough Sex

[[TW/CW: Food, sex references, itty bit of suicide ideation]]

[Previous Chapter]

[All Chapters]

Dawn came and they were still awake. There was nowhere dry to lie down on; even sitting soaked them through. Everything was wet, so they couldn’t even start a fire. Their clothes wouldn’t dry. Their skin wouldn’t dry.

Shepard groaned, “This is horrible.”

“Yeah, well… We’re alive.”

Bone-weary, they had abandoned their shirts and settled together on what used to be their roof. Their soaked skin stuck together, but it kept them from shivering.

His arms were wrapped tight around her.

It was just for warmth.

“Doesn’t change anything,” she grumbled.

“What?”

“You know this changes nothing, right?”

“Right. Yeah, of course.”

She squeezed the forearms locked across her chest.

The sun was rising.

“Doesn’t change anything,” she barely repeated, and finally fell asleep.

* * * * * *

“Move.”

Kaidan felt something tickle and scratch his face.

“Move!”

Whatever it was came down a little harder, this time against his chest.

“Wha-?!”

“Get up! You’re on the roof.”

She’d been prodding him with one of the fallen palm leaves. He bolted upright and rubbed his eyes, “I’m what?”

She was pushing him over to the side and tugging on his bedding, “Our roof! I’ve been tying it back up.”

Kaidan noticed the shade covering his head, “Oh, well done. Thank you.”

She grumbled.

The sun was powerful, high in the sky, and made the damp a distant memory. There was a fire going too.

“How long have you been up?”

Shepard just shrugged and continued working.

“Thank you.”

“You already said that.”

“I know! Still…” his mouth was dry, “Thanks.”

“Sure.”

Kaidan yawned, “Did you get a chance to boil the water yet?”

At least there’d been one positive to last night’s storm. They stuck their buckets facing upright in the sand every night in case of rain. Both were already overflowing by the time Shepard and Kaidan stepped into the trees.

“Water, but no breakfast.”

“Ah. I’ll go do that then.”

“It rained, so there’s plenty of chicken beetles.”

“Lucky us.”

* * * * * *

Their fruit and beetle kabobs were actually a lot better than most of the rations he’d had in the Navy. Often, he’d hear his crewman telling stories of pirates eating bugs and rats; laughing cruelly and feeling superior. But then he’d catch those same men shamefully eating ship pests not even a day later, alone in some shadowy nook. And what they ate wasn’t fresh and roasted between banana and coconut.

“I’d give anything for a bath,” Shepard complained.

“What? You weren’t wet enough last night?”

They immediately turned away from each other, eyes wide and cheeks flushed.

“I didn’t mean—” Kaidan blushed profusely.

“Right!” she agreed too loudly.

He tried to say something else, but the words tripped over each other.

Shepard beat him to it, “We should talk, yeah?”

Kaidan swallowed a little too hard and it stung in his chest, “About…?”

“Don’t play dumb. I know by now you’re not.”

“Okay. So, me and you?”

“That’s just it, there is no me and you.”

“I’m not saying there is, not like that. But we are here on this island together. And we are…”

“Fucking.”

“…Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

Kaidan took a full breath in and out, “So, we should stop?”

Shepard squinted, “Do you want to stop?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I didn’t say we should stop.”

They continued eating for a bit, but the conversation wasn’t over. A pause hung over the moment.

“I don’t mind it,” Kaidan eventually murmured.

Shepard finished chewing, “You what?”

“I don’t mind it,” he stated clearer, “Doing that with you.”

She smirked, “You’re going to have to say the word if it’s gonna continue.”

He glared at her, “Fucking you! I like fucking you.”

“There we go! And thank you,” she hesitated a bit, “I like fucking you too.”

“And we might die here!”

“Exactly!”

They high fived.

Her hand lingered in his for just a moment. Then she snatched it back.

“It changes nothing though,” she said, looking away.

His voice was rough, “I know.”

Looking desperate to change the subject, Shepard blurted, “Hey! I think I know how to make soap.”

* * * * * *

Liara taught her how to do it years ago. Shepard didn’t know why she was walking Kaidan through the steps. It wasn’t like he was a biotic too. Not that it was impossible otherwise, but the process was a little different.

They fetched seashells and seaweed, gathering a nice pile of each by the campfire. Then Shepard used her biotics to turn the shells into dust and the seaweed into a paste. Kaidan combined them while she extracted oil from a coconut and added it to the mixture. Finally, Shepard essentially sped up time, and they were left with a solid, pale green block of hygiene.

“Oh, thank god!” Kaidan exclaimed.

“Can we share for now?” she panted, “I’m exhausted.”

“Share?! Who cares about sharing? Shepard! I could kiss you!”

“No!” she suddenly got serious, “We don’t do that!”

“I didn’t mean—It’s an expression!”

“Yeah? Then why do I have to keep reminding you?”

“I’m sorry. It’s not intentional, but I’ll be more careful.”

“You better be,” she glared, “But you know what?”

“What?” he asked hesitantly.

“We have soap!" she shouted gleefully.

He matched her exuberance, “We have soap!”

* * * * * *

“Bastard!”

Shepard laughed, “Did you just call the water a bastard?”

“It’s cold.”

She threw her head back and cackled.

They’d practically sprinted over here, then climbed down the ledge to the base of the waterfall before they even set up their camp. It took every ounce of willpower to shed their clothes before jumping in.

Kaidan dipped his head under the steady stream first, “It’s really the perfect pressure.”

“Then let me under!”

Shepard swam under and felt the sting, “Ah!”

Kaidan frowned, “I’ll get the soap,” and swam over to the riverside where they left it on a pile of their clothes.

She saw bright, new scratches along all his scars.

He came back insisting on washing her shoulder first, “It might hurt though.”

Shepard stared at the cut that was healing on his neck. She saw her blade pressing against it until blood came out. She felt her lips on it in the dark. Her face grew hot.

“I don’t care.”

“Right. Just, uh, just tell me if it gets too much.”

She turned around in the water so her back faced him. Her hair was short, but she still moved it out of the way.

Motherfucker!

“You okay, Shepard?”

“Fine,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Sorry, it’s a little infected.”

“Yeah, so wash it out.”

“I am!”

It felt like his sword was slicing through her all over again. She started resenting the heat of his skin.

“Almost done.”

He spoke like he was soothing a child or a horse, but not in a way that was patronizing. What was the word? It was… It was…

Kind.

“Oh, fuck off!”

“What?”

“You don’t have to act like this just because of… everything.”

“How am I acting any different?”

“Let’s start with you cleaning out a wound you inflicted.”

“I’m sorry about that, Shepard. I wish I hadn’t.”

“But that’s not true!” she was getting more frustrated than she expected to, “You meant it! And you’d do it again, and you will do it again.”

“It’s finished.”

“What?!”

“Your back. I did what I could.”

“Don’t change the subject!”

“I’m not.”

“Then answer me.”

Kaidan sighed, “Yes, it’s a temporary truce. But—”

“Nope! Don’t do that. You’re turning away again.”

Shepard turned around and looked him in the eye, “When this is over, if we make it out of here, it goes back to how it was. I’ll go back to my life, and you’ll go back to hunting me.”

He swallowed, “I know.”

“That’s just how it is," she stated plainly, "Now turn around and I’ll do your back too.”

“Oh, I only did your shoulder. I didn’t wash your whole back.”

“Then finish me off!”

He raised his eyebrow.

“Later,” she winked, and turned back around.

They washed each other’s backs before taking turns with the soap. It was disgusting to realize how filthy they were. Sure, they’d rinsed off every day, but soap finally touching their skin made it sing with relief. They could tell how bad it had been by how good it felt in contrast.

“I don’t know how to thank you, Shepard.”

There was so much lightness in his voice that it changed to a tone she’d never heard before.

“Words are cheap,” she teased.

“Oh?”

“So, I guess you’re gonna have to find a way to make it up to me.”

“Get on your back,” he answered; so fast that it was like he’d been waiting for the right moment to say it.

She let herself float to the surface, “Is this your thank you?”

Kaidan swam into the space between her legs. She lifted her head up to see him and almost sank, so put his hands under her thighs to steady her.

“If you want it to be,” he said as his head bobbed over the water, her cunt in his face.

She put her hands on his head, pulling at his hair as she ran her fingers through it. Her whole body felt lighter than air.

“Do it.”

She cried out in anticipation as he got closer and met her with his tongue.

Her head started rushing with realities of the present. The Admiral, the hand of the State that spent years trying to snatch her, was massaging her folds in his mouth. His head—his neck—was between her thighs. She could crush him if she wanted, squeeze and drown him, all while floating on her back by a waterfall as he ate her with reverence.

He either knew what he was doing or paid close attention, because it wasn’t long before her legs shook and squeezed him as pulsing sensations worked over her violently. He didn’t stop until she twitched with overstimulation.

He held her steady above the water until she was ready to stop floating.

“I’m gonna have to make more soap,” she said stupidly.

Kaidan laughed.

[Next Chapter]

[All Chapters]

#shenko #prompt fill #estrella shepard #kaidan alenko #mass effect #mass effect au #full fic #fshenko #shepard x kaidan #kaidan x shepard #shenko pirates fic #BrishFics #smut

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