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kung-laos-hat · 4 years ago

Text

Fool

Kung Lao x Fem!Reader

Warning: Contains major spoilers from Mortal Kombat 9, including quotes from the actual script. :) kinda follows the canon but also doesn’t considering this is an x reader ‼️Not Proof read yet‼️

AN: words of affirmation and acts of service love language goes brrrrr

Summary: Kung Lao is devastated that his best friend and the girl he loves get to complete in the tournament without him, so he does what any sane person does: sneaks his way onto the island and challenges Scorpion in an attempt to impress the reader :D

“We’ll be back before you know it, Lao.” (Y/n) said, placing a hand on Kung Lao’s shoulder.

He chuckled nervously and nodded, trying his best to seem at ease but the uncertainty in his eyes gave it all away. It didn’t matter how long they trained or how prepared the elder monks thought (Y/n) and Liu Kang were. (Y/n)’s attempts at comforting the young man were fruitless.

It wasn’t just that he was worried for his childhood friends’ safety. There was no denying that was definitely one of the reasons he was reluctant to see them off, but aside from that he was envious. And how could he not be? The two of them were chosen by the elder monks to represent their section in the tournament where some the greatest fighters would be present.

Sure, he always knew the elder monks would choose (Y/n). She was the perfect fighter in his eyes. (Y/n) was clever, cunning, and quick on her feet. It just made sense that she’d be the first choice.

However, that left that second slot open for debate, and the primary candidates were Liu and Lao. Now Kung Lao promised himself that no matter what the elder monks decided, he wouldn’t let that drive a wedge in his relationship with his cousin, and he’d been fairly true to his word so far. He was proud of Liu, really.

But time went on and Raiden suggested that it’d be best for Liu and (Y/n) to train together in private, allowing them to grow accustomed to each other’s moves, strengths, and weaknesses. This would come in handy if the two of them should ever find themselves in a position in which they had to fight opponents together. Of course, Liu and (Y/n) already had established a close friendship, but there was nothing wrong with a little refining.

Lao had no problem with this, that is, until the tournament grew closer, and he began to see less and less of the duo. (Y/n) in particular almost seemed to be avoiding him, but Kung Lao knew her better than to assume that was the case. Yes, Liu Kang and (Y/n) were close, but not as close as Kung Lao and (Y/n). The three of them were the best of friends since childhood, but Lao always felt like there was something special between him and (Y/n) that just wasn’t present in her relationship with Liu.

(Y/n) had her fair share of sneaking out, having midnight conversations, and causing mischief amongst the other pupils, with Liu, sure, but it was Kung Lao she always turned to when in need of comfort. Somehow (Y/n) preferred to talk about her problems with Lao, and boy did he love it when she did. It was like seeing a completely gentler, more authentic side of her.

Because of this, Lao simply noticed things about (Y/n) no one else did. He knew what made her happy, and when one night she expressed how anxious training made her, he began to go out of his way to do some of her daily chores along with his own or do little things such as make her a snack. Of course, his pride would never allow his to flat out tell her he’d be doing all of this just because.

No, it was always,

“I just happened to make too much to eat by myself.”

“Don’t look too deep into it. If I didn’t do your laundry for you, you’d probably let it lay around your room. Then you’d have nothing clean to wear and you’d start stealing my clothes.”

Soon enough, Lao’s thoughts were flooded with nothing but (Y/n), and everyday he was forced to remember that she and Liu Kang were spending more and more time together, and eventually would be sent off to potentially die. This not only rubbed salt in the wound of not being chosen, but created a new fear for the poor young man.

God, what if (Y/n)’s opponent didn’t spare her? Would Liu Kang or Raiden interject? Kung Lao knew he would. He’d do anything to keep her safe. Hell, he’d throw away his pride and get on his hands and knees to beg if it meant saving (Y/n).

Was that why Liu Kang was chosen and not him? Because he was a better match for (Y/n)? Did the elder monks think he was more capable than him than much? Or was it (Y/n) who chose Liu Kang to fight beside her?

Now here he stood before her, soaking in her presence potentially for the last time. (Y/n)’s hand lingered on his shoulder a little longer, then she signed and took both of his hands in her own.

“What is it?” She asked, looking up expectantly.

Lao blinked, “What?”

“You’ve got that look on your face. Y’know the one that screams ‘I’ve got something to say, but I’m a wuss so instead I’m going to dwell in my room immediately after you leave,’” (Y/n) teased.

Lao half smiled and pulled his arms away. “It’s nothing, I’m just worried for you two.”

(Y/n)’s face softened and she offered him a small smile. “Hey, don’t worry about me. Liu Kang’s bad temper, maybe, but I’m sure I’ll be okay out there.” She opened her arms and embraced Lao, which he quickly accepted.

“After all,” (Y/n) said pulling away slightly and flicking the tip of Kung Lao’s hat, “I trained with the best.”

“We’ve got to get going!” Liu called out from a few feet away at the enterance of the temple.

With that, she placed a small kiss on Lao’s cheek and ran off to join him and Raiden.

“You better return in one piece!” Kung Lao called out jokingly.

“If I don’t, you better build me a cooler body!” (Y/n) laughed, waving her hand over her head.

With a flash of light, the three of them were gone.

___

So far the introduction to the tournament was running smoothly. (Y/n) had managed to hold pleasant conversations with a few other competitors, including one by the name Johnny Cage. (much to Liu Kang’s distain. Apparently Johnny had accidentally disrespected Raiden and was under the impression that everyone there was just really into roleplay. But aside from being a little arrogant, (Y/n) didn’t mind him.)

(Y/n) had been selected to do a quick demonstration fight against none other than Princess Kitana, who put up a good fight but in the end didn’t stand a chance against her. While the princess laid half on the ground, (Y/n) was given the option to either finish her off or spare her. Despite (Y/n) choosing mercy, Kitana didn’t take this defeat well, but did her best to maintain her composure as the two retreated inside to tend to their wounds.

“...Why did you—,” Kitana began in a low whisper. (Y/n) turned to her and helped her hand, palm out, in front of her chest.

“You’re an excellent fighter. One with true talent, princess, believe me.” (Y/n) chuckled, “To take a life such as yours would be a waste. Don’t let one little defeat become a deterrence.”

The ghost of a smile graced Kitana’s lips. “You know, you’re a fool to be so kind to your enemies. The next time we meet might not be under such pleasant circumstances.”

(Y/n) huffed, “A fool, yes, but at the very least I’ll be remembered for it.”

———

The fighting continued on without the two girls for a while until Shang Tsung granted an intercession. (Y/n) made her way to Liu Kang’s side and nodded at him. He glanced down at her neatly bandaged hands and huffed in amusement, knowing damn well that when they returned home, his companion planned on showing off her “battle scars” to Kung Lao in an attempt to impress him. As they waited for the next match to begin, Liu Kang filled her in on what she’d missed during the Johnny Cage versus Reptile fight.

“I wish you could of been here to see it, (Y/n). I got second hand embarrassment from how arrogant he sounded.” Liu rolled his eyes.

(Y/n) stifled a giggle and covered her smile with her hand, but as she did this, she noticed one particular bodyguard’s eyes watching her intently from behind his helmet.

He was a bit of a distance away, but somehow it felt like his stare was burning through (Y/n)’s skull, and the very thought of that sent a chill down her spine. She awkwardly cleared her throat and turned to face the other direction, her fingers slightly latching onto Liu Kang’s arm defensively.

The rest of the day was nothing short of eventful. Raiden had requested that she accompanied him into the underground sections of the island, where she became acquainted with Sonya Blade and Jax, and even got to witness Sonya fight a man named Kano. Johnny Cage and Liu Kang eventually joined them, and there they established a sort of team while Raiden explained the severity of losing the tournament.

Afterwards Sonya and (Y/n) parted ways with the men and accompanied each other to their designated bedrooms, which, luckily, were located across from each other. As they walked, the two women got to know each other a little better. Sonya told (Y/n) more about how she came to meet Jax, her life in the army, and how she eventually ended up on the island. In turn, (Y/n) told her about her life with the White Lotus Society and Raiden. They went back and forth, trading silly childhood and training tales until they came across a certain mural in one of the main hallways.

(Y/n) paused in front of it and smiled fondly at the depiction of a man standing victoriously over his enemy on a great cliff or something of the sort.

She turned to Sonya and smiled excitedly. “The Great Kung Lao,” she explained, “He’s a legend back home. Truly one of the greatest fighters the White Lotus ever produced.”

She proceeded to retell the story of Kung Lao’s victories back in the day, and Sonya listened intently.

“So that’s your motive then, huh?” Sonya chuckled.

(Y/n) raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

“Well I’ve got my mission to save Jax, Cage wants his fame... what about you? What’s your motive? Aside from the monks selecting you, that is.”

(Y/n) glanced back up at the mural, then back to Sonya. “A descendent of his— the great Kung Lao, I mean.” Suddenly (Y/n) felt incredibly shy and began to fiddle with her hands.

“Liu Kang?” Sonya tilted her head.

“No!” (Y/n) exclaimed, laughing slightly, “A friend of ours, actually.” As she spoke, her tone was laced with a certain fondness.

Sonya smiled, “A friend?”

“Yes, Miss Blade. A friend. Anyways, he helped me create all of my best moves. I hate to admit it, but I basically modeled my fighting style after what he taught me when we were kids.” (Y/n) faintly blushed and smiled to herself.

“So... that’s it then? You want to impress him?”

“I mean— I just—,” (Y/n) struggled to find words, “I mean of course that’s not all of it. Of course I’m here to protect the Earthrealm first, but...”

She glanced up at the mural once more.

“I don’t know, I want him to see how much I’ve improved recently.”

Truth be told, (Y/n) had always admired Kung Lao growing up, but it wasn’t until around their late teens or early twenties that she’d began to admire him a little more than usual. And because of that she’d begun to lose her focus around him. Sure, he had always been terribly strong, smart, and witty beyond compare, but as they grew (Y/n) began to notice how charming he was or how nice he looked without his gear on.

Or even how differently he treated her compared to everyone else.

———

The next day the fighters returned to the island’s arena. Shang Tsung and the monks took to their spots while Quan Chi stood at the foot of the throne.

Liu Kang and (Y/n) exchanged anxious glances At eachother. After the events of last night, (Y/n) could tell her friend’s nerves were a little shaken, despite how composed he seemed. She silently patted his back as a masked guard crossed his arms and moved a little closer to where they stood with Raiden.

“Kombatants! the next match will now begin!”

In a burst of flames, Scorpion teleported into the center of the arena. Everyone gasped in awe, and (Y/n) and Liu Kang shared looks of pure admiration.

“Scorpion!” Shang Tsung called out, “Specter of the Netherrealm! Resurrected by the sorcerer Quan Chi! Who among you is worthy of this challenge?”

“Where is the Lin Kuei Sub-Zero? He killed my family and clan. I will have his head!” The masked man snarled.

Without order, the mask guard standing closest to Raiden promptly walked to the center with Scorpion, discarding his mask and armor as he went.

“I accept the challenge!”

(Y/n)’s face fell. She knew that voice, and it definitely wasn’t Sub-Zero. She looked up at Liu with a worried expression, and he returned her stare with his own.

“Kung Lao?” He whispered as he turned back to the two men standing before them.

“Nevermind the Lin Kuei. Now you face a Shaolin.” He announced.

“Kung Lao, what are you doing here?” (Y/n) muttered under her breath.

The man ran two fingers over the brim of his razor sharp hat and turned his vision toward where (Y/n) stood with Raiden and Liu Kang. He pointed directly at the girl.

“(Y/n).”

Oh god.

“I dedicate my soon to be victory to you, my most prized companion.” He said firmly.

She looked around the arena at the other fighters with a mortified expression and caught Sonya and Johnny hiding their smiles under their hands.

“Please don’t do this, Kung Lao.” (Y/n) begged, sweat beginning to form on her temple from the sudden embarrassment she was feeling.

“It has to be done.” He said, assuming a fighting stance.

“All this nonesense to impress (Y/n) (L/n),” Scorpion huffed, “You will regret your impulsiveness.”

The fight commences, and although Kung Lao is a master of the Shaolin arts and a great fighter, his attempt at overpowering someone who’s spent years trapped in the Neatherrealm soon proved to be futile. (Y/n) could feel herself cringe at every severe blow Scorpion landed to Lao’s torso until he ultimately beat him into an unconscious state on the floor.

(Y/n) tore away from the crowd and rushed to Lao’s side, swiftly but gently lifting his torso onto her lap, cradling his head in her arms as his hat laid in the dirt beside them. Scorpion looked down at her, the pity in his eyes seemed almost unbearable to (Y/n).

“He is not yet a warrior. I apologize, (L/n), I did not mean to cause you embarrassment.” He nodded.

(Y/n) shook her head and let out a small laugh. “Don’t be sorry, Scorpion. There’s no bad blood between us.”

“Kung Lao!” Liu cried out shortly after as he jogged over to aid them.

He thre Kung Lao’s arm over his shoulder and housed him up, carrying him out of the arena as Lao came to. Raiden and (Y/n) followed shortly behind.

“Listen when your elders speak!” He scolded, “You could not win this fight! And lost it at the expense of both you and dear (Y/n)’s expense!”

“Master, please, that’s enough. He meant no harm.” (Y/n) defended as they entered the main hall.

Raiden sighed angrily, “Take him to the nursery and get him cleaned up.” With that, he turned back around.

———

“Are you sure you want to tend to his wounds by yourself? It’d go a lot faster with my help...” Liu Kang said as he stood in the doorway.

“It’s fine, Liu,” (Y/n) waved him off, “It’d look bad if both of us weren’t present during today’s fights.”

(Y/n) turned around and subtly motioned to Kung Lao, who was spread out on a bench, and shot Liu an expecting look that said, ‘Get out, dumbass, I want to speak with him in private.’

Liu Kang mouthed a silent ‘oh,’ in realization and nodded. “I’ll leave you to it, then. Take care of him, and I’ll be back later to check on the two of you.”

He eagerly left the room and shut the door behind him, leaving the two together in awkward silence.

(Y/n) sighed and turned to the cabinets to retrieve a towel and bandages.

Kung Lao sat up and huffed in annoyance, “Why must the two of you talk about me as if I’m not here, (Y/n)? I’m perfectly capable of tending to myself, you don’t have to stay.”

(Y/n) furrowed her eyebrows together but said nothing. She continued on gathering her materials and laid them out on the counter beside them.

“Are you upset with me? Is that what this is?”

Still nothing.

“What? Do you want me to apologize? Look, I’m sorry if I embarrassed you, (Y/n)—,”

“Why are you here, Lao!?” She interrupted sharply.

He scoffed, “Proving I’m equivalent to Liu Kang.”

(Y/n) shook her head angrily. “Why!?” She dipped her small towel in a bowl of water and squeezed it. “You don’t have to prove anything, I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t—,”

“Then help me here, Lao. Explain— Did Raiden... or the elder monks— did they say something to you?”

“That’s not it.” He glanced down.

“Did something happen? I don’t—,”

“It’s you, (Y/n). You’re the reason.” He blurted.

The room was silent again.

“Oh.”

(Y/n) slowly turned around and made her way over to Kung Lao, beckoning for him to give her his arm. She avoided his gaze as she placed the damp towel over a large gash in his shoulder.

“I’m very sorry then... Whatever I did, I didn’t mean to make you feel this way.” The heartbreak in her tone was prominent.

Kung Lao sighed, “No— sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s my fault.”

(Y/n) paused, “What do you mean?”

Lao timidly placed a hand on her shoulder. (Y/n) looked up at him in confusion and scanned his face. He was giving her the same look he had on the morning she left for the tournament. The one that made it seem like he desperately wanted to say something but didn’t know how, or couldn’t muster up the courage to flat out say it.

Kung Lao groaned and burried his face in her other shoulder.

“I like you.” He mumbled, “There, I finally said it. It’s foolish, isn’t it? That I did all of this just because I wanted you to admire me back? I knew the elder monks didn’t choose me for a reason. I’m sure I couldn’t have handled the tournament, anyways—,”

“That’s not it at all!” (Y/n) cried, gingerly wrapping her arms around his torso, “It’s my fault you weren’t chosen, I’m sure of it.”

“I don’t understand,” He said, looking up.

(Y/n) sighed, “It was originally supposed to be us two. At the tournament, I mean. The elders said our fighting styles complimented eachother the most out of the three of us. But then I started to slip up during training whenever you were around. I’m sorry, I thought they’d replace me with Liu Kang, but—,”

“They replaced me instead...” Kung Lao finished.

“You are no lesser of a great fighter than Liu Kang. It truly is my fault, Lao.” (Y/n) confessed.

Kung Lao blinked and was silent for a moment. “So... you were slipping up because...?” A cheeky smile slowly made its way onto his face.

(Y/n) signed and hid her face in the crook of his neck.

“I like you too, you idiot monk. I always have.”

Kung Lao laughed, “Why didn’t you tell me!?”

“What didn’t you tell me!?” (Y/n) argued playfully.

“What? Was doing all your chores and things not enough of a sign for you?”

“Well, clearly they weren’t. Otherwise I wouldn’t have been so stressed over the matter.”

“Oh goodness...” Kung Lao chuckled.

They two sat there, holding each other, for a moment until (Y/n) pulled away.

“I have to finish cleaning your wounds, Lao.”

He nodded and sat up straight, removing his shirt so (Y/n) could clean the wounds on his chest.

As he looked down at her hands, gently pressing the towel to his wounds, applying the medicine where needed, and wrapping them up neatly, his eyes couldn’t help but trail over her lips. This wasn’t the first time, naturally, but know that he had confirmation that she was finally his...

He swooped down and captured her hips with his in a chaste but sweet kiss that lasted no more than a few seconds. (Y/n) stared up at him in surprise.

“Too soon?” He half laughed.

She shook her head, “Not at all.” (Y/n) wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him back down for a real kiss.

Their lips locked softly once again, and the two of them could feel the sense of pure joy and excitement building up in their chests. (Y/n)’s eyes fluttered closed as Kung Lao deepened the kiss. As Lao moved his lips against hers, it tasted sort of metallic from the dried blood that remained on Lao’s lips beforehand, but (Y/n) didn’t seem to mind.

When they finally pulled away, Kung Lao rested chin on top of (Y/n)’s head.

“You’re a fool, Kung Lao,” (Y/n) said endearingly.

He kissed her hair and let out a small laugh.

“For you, perhaps.”

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sturchling · 4 years ago

Note

A new girl shows up and takes Lila's spot but instead of lying she's actually does them but she's two face and tries Lila worse than Lila treats Marinette and Lila looses her followers whenever she tries the same tactics and up like Nettie(who switched classes) Lila for the first time is genuinely miserable like Mari for real ( will give u an idea 4 a sequel after this)

Here you go! Sorry it took longer than I would have like, but I had sudden job interview. Now that it is over, I had some time to write! :)

Hope you like it!

Lila was happy with how things were going in her life right now. The class was completely under her spell. They believed anything that she says and look at her like she hung the moon. She had succeeded in making that pathetic Marinette miserable. Marinette was so miserable she even switched classes. Sure, Adrien knows she is a liar. But Adrien can’t say anything, since Mr. Agreste has forbidden it. Yeah, life was going well for Lila. That was, until, Sadie arrived

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

It had been a normal weekend for Lila, she had been coming up with new stories to tell the class on Monday. She was sure these new stories would keep the class singing her praises for a while. As she walked towards class, she heard the class already chatting excitedly. It is common knowledge that Lila doesn’t like attention not being on her. So, she got ready to tell another story, to get the focus back on her where it belonged. Not like the class was talking about anything important, probably just talking about whatever stupid thing they had done that weekend. But just as Lila entered the classroom, a new lie on her tongue, when she noticed someone new.

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

The class was surrounding a girl that Lila didn’t recognize, and this girl was sitting in Lila’s seat. This girl had long black hair that reached to the base of her spine, and blue eyes. She was wearing a yellow floral sundress, with a black cardigan and black flats. Lila was furious seeing this strange girl sitting in her seat. Lila had worked hard to manipulate her way into that seat by Adrien, and she wasn’t just going to let it go. She sauntered up to the group, “Well, hello. Are you new?” Alya turned, now realizing that her bestie had arrived, “Oh, Lila! Good morning. This is Sadie, she just transferred here from America. Her dad is a marine and has been stationed to guard the American embassy here in Paris. She was just telling us about some of her adventures. Can you believe it, it sounds like you two have been running in the same circles!” That confused Lila, what did Alya mean by that? “What do you mean Alya?” “Well, Sadie was saying how she has also worked for several go-green organizations, and has also helped out a bunch of celebrities. She also knows a bunch of Hollywood actors, from when her dad was stationed in San Diego. She even has tinnitus like you, she and her dad were visiting a friend at an air force base and she got lost. She wandered to close to a plane and nobody noticed her so her hearing was damaged. That is why she is sitting up front too. You guys can be desk mates!” Lila paled at that. She had worked so hard to get a seat next to Adrien. “But Alya, what about Adrien? Where will he sit?” “Don’t worry Lila, Adrien was fine with the seat change since another student needed to sit up front. He will sit where Marinette used to, near Nathaniel.” Lila was fuming, but she couldn’t exactly do anything about it without looking bad. So, she just smiled and played along, sitting down in Adrien’s old spot.

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

The rest of the morning hadn’t gone any better for Lila. She had tried several times to get the attention back on her, but no matter what she did, the class only wanted to talk to and about Sadie. It was infuriating. Not even Lila’s new stories were enough to capture the class’ attention. Anytime Lila mentioned something she had done, Sadie had done it too, but bigger and better. Worse yet, is that Sadie appeared to be telling the truth. The go-green charities that she claimed to help start, all had official websites and awards and Sadie was always listed on those websites as a founding member. There were even videos of her at some of the award ceremonies. Sadie also had pictures with every single celebrity that Lila had also claimed to know. And not just one picture, like they had just happened to meet by chance, but several pictures. Some looked like they had even been taken at parties. And when Mrs. Bustier had finally arrived, Sadie had an actual doctor’s note for the tinnitus. The little brat had been telling the truth all morning.

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

Lila hadn’t been this angry since Marinette had challenged her. This meant that Lila would have to go to war again. This Sadie girl seemed just like Marinette. Kind and sickeningly sweet. Lila thought this meant that Sadie would be just as easy to destroy, but she was very wrong. The next day, Lila cornered Sadie in the bathroom and threatened her. “I don’t like sharing the spotlight newbie. So, you are going to stop trying to hog all the attention. I worked hard to become the queen in this class, so you can either bow down or get out of the way. I already eliminated that Marinette girl and I can do the same to you too. The choice is yours, you can either give me back the attention I deserve or I can destroy you.” Sadie just smiled at Lila, but in a way that felt very threatening. “No, here is what is going to happen. Alya told me all about your stories and it is clear that you are lying. I am the real deal. The rest of the class already thinks I am a saint. You may have been the queen, but your reign is over. I am in charge now. If you tell the class anything about this conversation, or try and ‘destroy’ me I can promise you the only one that will be destroyed is you. I may seem nice, but I am not some push over, and I will not be dictated to by some liar who is so desperate for a cool life that she had to make one up. As far as I am concerned, we are enemies. I am going to make your life hell-” Sadie seemed to want to say more, but just then Rose poked her head into the bathroom and told them it was almost time for class. Sadie quickly wiped the glare from her face and smiled at Rose. “Thanks Rose, I’m coming. See you in a minute Lila.” With that Sadie walked out of the bathroom, chatting happily with Rose. Lila was shocked. She had thought that Sadie was a goodie-two-shoes, she hadn’t expected her to be so cold and hostile. If Sadie wanted to be enemies, then Lila was willing to play that game.

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

Despite Lila’s best efforts, nothing was working. Sadie had quickly become the class darling and everybody loved her, much to Lila’s annoyance. And what was worse was that Sadie had started tormenting Lila. Lila had never gone so far as to physically attack Marinette herself, but Sadie had no problem attacking Lila every time the two were alone together. So far, Sadie had tripped her close to a dozen times, trapped her in two closets, and had even spilled food all over her. But the class never saw any of this happen. Sadie was really good at finding just the right moment to strike. Lila had tried talking to the class several times, but they never believed her. “Oh Lila, Sadie wouldn’t do that.” “It must have been someone else.” “Maybe you just got confused.” Lila was at the end of her rope.

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

What was worse was anytime that Lila tried to talk to the class, Sadie started to poison the class against her. It started small, Sadie started asking the class, “How could Lila say I would do all those mean things? Did I do something wrong?” The class fell all over themselves to tell Sadie she hadn’t done anything. Then the class began to wonder why Lila was so insistent it was Sadie. When Lila didn’t stop trying to convince the class, Sadie continued her assault, both physically and socially. She was playing the long game with turning the class against Lila. It was so gradual it was hardly noticeable.

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

Eventually, when Lila still hadn’t gotten the message, Sadie pulled out the big guns. First, she started fulfilling the promises that Lila had made. She started introducing the class to celebrities in the field they each wanted to go into. She introduced Alya to people at the New York Times, Nathaniel to the editors at Marvel, and even helped Kitty Section get a meeting with some big-time music producer in LA. Then she started wondering aloud to the class why Lila hadn’t already done all this for them. When the grumblings in the class continued to grow, Sadie went for the killing blow. She accused Lila of attacking her. “Lila was so mad. She wanted to be the one to introduce you to all these people. She told me that if I keep doing this then she will make my life hell!” Sadie even threw in some realistic fake tears, not fake sobs like how Lila used to do. Now the whole class had turned against Lila.

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

Lila’s life had become miserable. She was the class outcast, the only time someone talked to her was to make rude comments or tell her off about ‘how she is treating Sadie’. Thankfully, her lies hadn’t been exposed yet, somehow. She was worried though. Sadie kept getting closer to exposing her with each day. In an attempt to stop that from happening, Lila stopped trying to go after Sadie. Sadie stopped going further with her stories about Lila, but she was still making Lila miserable. She kept tripping her and shoving her and now the rest of the class had joined in. Lila’s stuff was routinely destroyed to the point that Lila didn’t even bring anything she didn’t need to class anymore. Right now, Lila was on another ‘trip with her mother’ and skipping school. She had tried switching classes like that loser Marinette had, but her request was denied. All the other classes were full at the moment. She also tried to convince her mom to let her change schools entirely, but her mother didn’t want her to switch schools in the middle of the year. Lila was stuck and had lost all her power. She was no longer the queen of the class, but was treated more like a prisoner. Sadie had won the war.

#ml fic #ml fanfic #ml salt #ml salt fic #ml salt fanfic #ml class salt #lila rossi #lila salt #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic #miraculous salt fanfic #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #miraculous fic #miraculous salt #miraculous salt fic

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duskowithapen · 4 years ago

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Of Flowers and Tattoo Needles Chapter Two

Read on AO3

Read on Fanfiction

Read Chapter One

The Flowers

Luka walked into the Secret Garden. Juleka took one look at his face, sighed, and led him towards the backroom. “Be glad I hadn’t had time to take this home,” she grumbled, emerging from the freezer with a tub of caramel ice cream tucked under one arm. After a moment, a spoon appeared under his nose.

Rose looked up from where she was doing paperwork. “What happened Luka? I thought you and Marinette would get along really well!”

With a groan, Luka flopped into a chair. “We were!” He totally-didn’t-whine. “She designed the most kick-ass looking tattoo that was everything I wanted, she gave me the friends and family discount, she didn’t laugh at me when I flirted…”

“Well, that’s an improvement,” Juleka sassed from her own ice cream rub – strawberries and cream, because she was a sap for Rose, who she was intermittently feeding. “But I can’t see the issue…?”

“It was all going well until her boyfriend showed up.” Luka glared over his ice cream. “So thanks for the warning, guys.”

Rose frowned and put down her pen. “What do you mean? Marinette doesn’t have a boyfriend.”

“She was moaning about it during our last girls night,” Juleka interjected. “Talking about how all the guys who came into her shop seemed to be over-muscled sissies who cried the second they saw the tattoo needle.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know what to tell you. Him and Marinette were definitely close.” Luka was about ready to drown himself in his ice cream. Even the excitement over his tattoo had faded into abject misery. He looked into the depths of his slowly melting ice cream, recalling the last ten minutes with perfect clarity.

Marinette looked like she was going to devour him. Her eyes kept flicking between his, darting down to his lips and back. She had even started to lean in when someone coughed.

“Uh, excuse me, am I interrupting something?” It was a tall blonde, formally dressed in a pressed black suit that made his eyes stand out (yes, Luka noticed. He might have been besotted with Marinette, but he wasn’t blind.) While his question may have been innocent, the smirk that crossed his face wasn’t.

Marinette’s face lit up bright red as she jumped out of her seat. “Adrien! I wasn’t expecting you here till 4.30!”

“Look at the time, buginette. If I’d known you had another client, I would have waited.” Adrien laughed as he wrapped the smaller girl up in a hug, lifting Marinette off her feet.

Luka glanced down at his phone, while Marinette began to stutter out apologies. 4.28. He couldn’t have been a couple of minutes late, Luka thought bitterly.

“I’m really, really sorry Luka!” Marinette had come back, the blonde – Adrien – wandering away to look at dragon tattoos. “I didn’t realise how long I’d spent on your tattoo, and Adrien had been a last-minute booking, so I’d completely forgotten!”

“It’s okay, Marinette.” With an internal sigh, Luka gave her a smirk. “Gives me a reason to come back.”

It seemed to snap Marinette out of her anxious haze.

He didn’t know if it was his words or his smirk, but something snapped Marinette out of her anxious, apologetic haze. Her grin was evil when she stepped into his space. “You needed another reason? I thought you said you were fine with needles.”

Luka’s mouth opened and closed for a moment before he collected himself. “I’m fine with needles if you’re the one poking me with them.”

Whatever Marinette was going to say in return was interrupted, yet again, but Adrien. “Sorry Mari, but I’ve got dinner with Pere tonight, so if I’m getting this tattoo, I kinda need to get it now.”

Adrien was now shirtless.

That’s all Luka could process as Marinette stepped away with another apology.

Adrien was sitting in one of the tattoo stations, jacket and button up slung over the top of the chair. Marinette ruffled his hair as she walked past. “Don’t go rushing an artist, kitty. Otherwise you might end up with something less badass fire dragon and more Mushu.”

“Hey! Don’t go hating on Mushu!” Adrien gasped in faux-outrage, turning away with his nose in the air. “He’s travel-size!”

“Uh huh,” Marinette sighed as she walked back over to Luka. “Anyway, ignore him.” She held out a clipboard with a form on it. “If you just want to fill in your details, I can polish your design after I do Adrien’s tattoo, and then send it through for you to look at. If you like it, I can fit you in…” She paused and walked over to the desk near the door. “Well, I have a cancellation tomorrow morning, and I can get Nathaniel to do Ivan’s tattoo… I can fit you in for tomorrow at nine, if you’d like. If that’s too soon, I have openings next week?”

“Tomorrows fine,” Luka said as he wrote down his email. “And I’m sure I’ll love whatever you send me. Your rough sketch is incredible – I can’t want to see what it looks like in colour.”

The smile Marinette sent him was almost blinding. After Luka handed her back the clipboard, Marinette said goodbye and walked back towards Adrien.

The last thing he saw was Adrien’s smile as Marinette pecked him on the forehead. “Ready to get stabbed, mon chaton?”

Luka refused to look up as Rose and Juleka digested what he just told them. They shared a glance in that way all couples do – like they can communicate via intense eye contact – before bursting into laughter. Well, Rose burst into laughter. Juleka just chuckled and shook her head.

“You’ve got it bad, brother,” She said around a spoonful of ice cream, “It’s almost pitiful.”

Rose poked her with a pen. “Jules, don’t be mean to him!”

A scoff. “I can be mean to my brother as long as he remains a dumbass.”

Luka raised an eyebrow. “Oh really, sister? Do I have to mention the Prince Charming incident?” That had happened back in college, when Juleka had moped for days when she thought Rose had fallen for the foreign prince who she met on his visit to Paris. There had been much relief when Rose had clarified, no, the prince was too male for her refined lesbian tastes.

Alright, Luka had been pretty insufferable then too.

Juleka snapped the lid closed on her ice cream and turned to put it away. “You said that your appointment is at nine, right? Rose, we can open late tomorrow, right?”

“Ooo, yay!” Rose clapped, gathering her paperwork. “I can’t wait to see what kind of tattoo you’re getting Luka!”

“Do I get a choice in this?” He asked with a raised brow.

“No.” And Juleka pulled away his ice cream.

Later that night, Luka opened an email from [email protected]. Hey Luka! I’ve attached the full colour layouts for your tattoo. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow!

He was so glad he lived alone – there was no one there to watch him blush over an email from a girl who may or may not have a boyfriend. Then he looked at the photos. His breath caught.

These are incredible. The image was flat but drawn so that when the transfer paper was wrapped around his arm, the sides would line up. The snake was coloured in various shades of blue, with a lighter sea blue down what could be seen of the spine before merging into a deeper teal green near the belly. The belly itself was a pale yellow, blending in perfectly to the ring of daffodils just above where his elbow would be. As for the flowers themselves, they seemed to pop off the page. Bright blue iris’, with the edges of the petals tinted purple, bold red gladiolus’ with a white outline, pale yellow daffodils with brighter yellow middles… they all emerged from around the snakes body, with the gaps a deep shade of brown – the colour reminded him of his mothers’ mahogany chest – and tiny flickers of pale green leaves creating little spots of calm.

Beside the larger image was a single iris, connected to the main tattoo by two deep brown branches, with a scattering of leaves ringing it. The blues of this flower were paler – closer to the colour of his eyes, Luka realised with a blush – and the purple of the petal’s edges were the same shade as Juleka’s hair. The orange streak down each petal stood out starkly from the rest of the flower.

It was incredibly detailed, and just so much more than Luka ever thought a tattoo could be. He thought back to Rose and Juleka’s tattoos, how lifelike the flowers were, and found that he preferred this saturated, brighter than life version better. It matched perfectly against the calmer tones of the snake and stood out against the dark wood and pale greens of the supporting stems.

He sent back a response before going to bed. Luka couldn’t wait to go to Charmed Ink tomorrow.

This is amazing Marinette! I didn’t think your sketch could get any better, but you’ve blown all my expectations out of the water. Should have expected that such an incredible person can produce incredible art. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow – and get the tattoo.

**************

The next day, a blushing Marinette waved Luka into the tattoo parlour, throwing a glare over her shoulder at where a red head was busy with another customer. “Luka! Hi! I only saw your email this morning – I was too tired yesterday to do much more than send you the design and go to bed.” She hopped up a little on her toes to press a kiss against his cheek, moving away before he could react.

“Rose! Juleka!” Rose was pulled into a hug that lifted the shorter blonde off the ground, while Juleka was greeted with a faire la bise, which his sister returned. “I believe I have you guys to thank for my newest customer!”

“Well if anyone deserves a Marinette Original tattoo, it’s Luka!” Rose chirped, “And he refused to show us the design – I can’t wait to see it!”

Juleka smirked from her other side, and Luka instantly felt on guard. It was never a good think when his sister made that face. “It’s something sappy, isn’t it? Mine and Mum’s name on a ship, or the score for his first song, or his guitar? Gods know he rarely goes anywhere without it – I had to convince him not to bring it with him today.”

Luka raised an eyebrow and wandered closer to Marinette. Her cheek kiss restored some of his earlier confidence, and he leaned into her space a little. “Marinette could make the most sappy tattoo concept into something that could even fit in with your Lady of Midnight, goth chic style. After all,” And here Luka returned Juleka’s smirk with his own, “She managed to turn your love song into a pretty cool looking tattoo.”

There was a hint of a blush on Juleka’s face as she pushed at his shoulder, making him wrap an arm around Marinette’s shoulders so that they didn’t both go over. Her first tattoo idea had been the Always from Harry Potter, surrounded by roses – Rose had always been a big fan of the series, and had actually cried onto Juleka’s shoulder as she read the last book – but when Juleka came back from the design appointment, it had been with the flower wreath concept. It maintained the original intent behind the tattoo – a permanent reminder of Rose’s impact on her life and of her feelings – while being truer to Juleka’s style and personality. Rose had loved it enough to get the same one.

Marinette glanced up at him, not bothering to move out from under his arm, with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “Ahh, so you’re one of those musicians. Any girl would have to fight your guitar for your affections.”

“With you, Marinette,” Luka said with a wink, “There wouldn’t be much of a battle.”

Another blush bloomed across Marinette’s cheekbones as she stuttered, almost drowned out by Juleka’s fake-gagging and Rose’s squeals. Despite that, it was a nice moment.

Of course, with Luka’s luck, someone had to break it.

The door of the tattoo parlour was slammed open, and a woman with black hair cut in a no-nonsense bob stormed inside, one hand curled around a wooden rapier. Behind her stood the blonde from last night – Adrien – and Luka’s stomach dropped.

“Marinette,” The scary woman started, “What exactly have you been tattooing on my fiancé’s chest?”

#miraculous ladybug #ao3 #fanfiction #of flowers and tattoo needles #lukanette #chapter two #tattoo artist marinette #tattoo artist/florist au

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oh-obrien · 5 years ago

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Migraines

Relationships: Dylan O’Brien x OFC

Warnings: Mentions of chronic illness (?)

Word Count : 5,010

Author’s Note: Hey y’all this is something kind of small and kind of cute I cranked out. I deal with chronic migraines and honestly 100% self indulged with this but it has tons of soft Dylan in it!! I kind of hoped to shine some light on what it’s like dealing with chronic migraines with it, mainly because that’s why I’ve been MIA the past week. It’s pretty hard to write when you can only see out of one eye lol.

“Sometimes I just really wonder why I subject myself to this,” Lillian mumbled while she laid down on the ground in the middle of the Beacon Hills Memorial hospital set that they happened to be filming in on that day. “Or at least I mean, why I decide to just let my headaches go when I wake up some mornings,” she cracked an eye open to see Dylan standing above her.

He held a hand out to her and she took it, pushing herself off the ground and closing her eyes once she stood flat so she hopefully wouldn’t notice the room spinning. “I would ask if you wanted anything but I know the answer already,” Lillian fell into step next to him while they got to where they needed to be for the next scene. “If you want to take a break I'm sure you could ask and-”

“I’m fine,” Lillian shook her head and closed her right eye that she currently couldn’t really see out of. She saw Dylan give her a knowing look and shook her head, “I’m seriously fine Dyl. I’m just going to grab some painkillers and coffee on lunch and I’ll be fine for the rest of the day after that.” She quickly pulled away from Dylan and walked over to where Holland and Crystal stood getting ready to film themselves.

Dylan stood off to the side of the set with Tyler Posey, watching the girls film a scene together. Lillian laid in the hospital bed with her eyes closed, the prop heart monitor beeping steadily behind them while their director spoke. “Something is up with Lilly today,” Tyler mumbled while watching the way her forehead was wrinkled in discomfort when her eyes opened.

“She has a migraine,” Dylan mumbled watching the girls again when quiet got called on the set. He saw Lillian close her eyes again while she waited for Holland and Crystal to finish their lines for the scene, everyone on set knowing they were going to lunch once their director felt happy with how the scene came out. “And I told her they would call the day early if she said something but she refuses to believe it,” he rolled his eyes.

Tyler crossed his arms over his chest and nodded, “maybe she just needs lunch to unwind, clear her head,” he watched how Dylan looked on to set with concern. Tyler knew his friend cared deeply about their new cast member, from the dad Lillian had stepped onto the set Dylan and her had clicked. Lillian had grown up in New York, allowing her and Dylan to quickly fall into conversation about their shared interest in some of the state’s sports teams. She had seen Dylan wearing his Mets cap the first time they met and offered him a smirk mumbling something about, “imagine being a Yankees fan,” before introducing herself to the rest of the cast.

“I might just stick back here,” Dylan leaned closer to Tyler to speak so he wouldn’t interrupt filming at all, “just to make sure she’s fine,” he ran a hand through his messy hair. Tyler looked up to his friend and just nodded, not wanting to push the issue of where Dylan’s feelings for their friend currently were at the moment.

When Lillian had moved to Los Angeles, fresh out of college, to join the cast of Teen Wolf for its third season, it quickly became clear that she wasn’t completely comfortable in the new environment. Her audition for the show had been a ‘joke’ of sorts originally and even getting a call back for the part had surprised her.

Lillian had planned on sticking back on her college’s campus for their fall break to attend a tournament for the college’s Ultimate Frisbee team she had played on. Due to weather concerns the tournament had gotten cancelled and with her parents also planning on going on vacation that week, there had been no point in her returning home. A few of her friends who happened to be acting and theater majors, had planned on taking a trip out to LA that weekend for shits and giggles, to see if they could audition for a couple jobs after they graduated college, just to see if they had any shot at getting the parts.

They had convinced Lillian to walk into an audition with zero acting experience to raise their chances, even if would just raise them a minimal amount, it was still something. Upon walking into the audition, Lillian learned that she would be auditioning for a high school student who wanted to be any place other than high school. Something she related to on a personal level. She must have played the part pretty well because a week later on her way to practice she got the call that the producers wanted her to fly out to LA for the final round of auditions.

After lengthy discussions with her advisors and parents the days following the call, she knew that she would be graduating a year early, and would have plenty of time to get out to LA before filming started. Armed with that knowledge and the fact that she would have to drop her dreams of attending law school if she did get the part, Lillian flew out to LA for the final audition for a role on the MTV series Teen Wolf.

Two weeks after graduating from a tiny, central Pennsylvania University with a degree in Economics and Legal Studies, Lillian found herself moving out to Los Angeles to start a career as an actress. She had been able to rent a small house outside of Los Angeles with the help of her parents and moved herself and her dog out there in record timing. Her first day on set she had shown up in a pair of ripped jeans and a long sleeve from her college and felt grossly underdressed and unattractive when she had been introduced to the rest of the cast at the table read.

“You must be Lillian,” A red headed young woman walked up to Lilly with a warm smile and offered her a hug. “I’m Holland.”

“You can just call my Lilly,” she offered a warm smile in return, tucking her keys into her jeans pocket and holding the binder with her first script in it tightly to her chest.

Holland nodded and started to lead Lillian into a building, “Jeff told us not to overwhelm you, and we really didn’t trust any of the boys not to do that,” she laughed lightly turning down a long hallway. “We really are one big family though, I’d say this is the best way to ease into your first job.”

“I honestly never expected to wind up here,” Lillian laughed while she and Holland reached a door labeled ‘Teen Wolf’ within the studio. “I’m fresh out of college on an Economics and Pre-Law degree, before I auditioned I’d say acting was the last thing on my mind when it came to a career,” she shrugged.

Holland looked into the small glass window of the room before speaking, “you’d get along great with Dylan then,” she stated, “Teen Wolf was his first job too! If you’re comfortable enough everyone else is in here, and the boys are quite eager to meet you if I’m honest. They love seeing new people on set.”

“Sounds good to me,” Lilly shrugged while Holland pushed the door open, the room opening up to a bunch of tables in a large rectangle, the remainder of the cast, the show’s writer and some producers sitting around the table also. All the heads in the room turned to face them and Lilly watched as some of the members of the cast pushed their way out of their seats to introduce themselves.

“I’m Crystal,” one of the other girls introduced themselves first out of the group. “That’s Tyler and Tyler,” she pointed to two of the younger guys who were standing up. “Daniel, Gage, and Dylan,” she introduced everyone who was standing. “I’m sure the adults are able to introduce themselves,” she laughed. Lillian saw the adults all talking amongst themselves, most likely not wanting to overwhelm her more than she already was.

“And you know me already,” Jeff Davis, the writer for the show, stood up to shake Lillian’s hand. “I’m sure you’ll be a more than amazing addition to the show.” He returned to his seat and started talking with the other adults, giving the younger actors time to properly introduce themselves.

“Jeff said you were from New York,” one of the Tyler’s spoke up. “That’s pretty cool,”

“Not like the city,” Lillian laughed, “the island though yeah, I lived there until I went to college,” she offered the information. “And at least he’s not a Yankees fan,” she nodded towards the hat that Dylan was wearing. “How’re you a Mets fan?”

Dylan smiled and stepped more into the group, “I lived in Jersey a good chunk of my childhood,” he laughed. “You know how Mets fans raise their kids,” he just shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest.

From that first day on set onwards, Dylan had taken Lillian under his wing and showed her the ropes of being an actress. With Teen Wolf also having been his first acting job, he found a sort of kinship with Lillian that allowed the two to feel comfortable around each other. They shared experiences the others didn't really have in common with them. They had grown close together through filming, and with Lillian’s character taking a liking to Stiles they were both glad they had natural chemistry. On set they were never really far from each other, and some of their castmates had placed bets on when the pair would finally realize the feelings they had for each other.

“What does she think, Jeff’s going to kick her off the show if she takes a break?” Tyler asked Dylan while they watched Lillian rub at her temples between takes. “Because she really isn’t looking fantastic right now at all.”

Dylan let out a long sigh and shrugged, “I’m really not sure, man. You know how hard she is on herself though, so she won’t even tell you how bad it really is.” Once the director called for lunch break, Lillian sat up slowly in the hospital bed, swinging her legs over the end and pulling on her hair at the roots. She said something to Holland and Crystal who gave her sad smiles before nodding and walking over to Tyler and Dylan.

“What’s Lilly not coming to lunch?” Tyler asked the two girls, glancing at Dylan out of the corner of his eye.

Crystal shook her head, “she said she wants to just run through lines for the rest of the day. She said she had food in her trailer, plus she brought Bear with her today,” Crystal pointed out that Lillian had brought her corgi to set for the day and both of the boys turned to look at each other. “Oh you two see Bear plenty, give her a little space during lunch.”

Dylan watched Lillian talk to a few of the producers that were on the set that day, nodding along to what they were saying while she chewed on her bottom lip. Jeff walked over and said something that made her smile, giving a shallow nod to the writer before she walked off in the direction of her trailer, shuffling her feet while she went. “I’m going to stay behind too,” Dylan mumbled, taking off the flannel he had been wearing for Stiles’ outfit that day.

Holland turned to give Tyler a knowing look and he just shrugged, not sure what to tell her. “Dylan, you know how she needs her space sometimes,” Holland pointed out.

“It’s fine, I’m just going to check on her,” he waved the others off while he also started in the direction of the trailers.

Opening her trailer door, Lillian peeled off the clothes she had been wearing on set and dropped them on to the table in the trailer. She grabbed the hoodie she had worn on to set that day, one Dylan had left at her house the week before and a pair of Nike shorts. She bent down to pet Bear who laid half awake on the couch in the room, his stuffed hedgehog under his chin. With a yawn Bear pushed himself up on to his short legs and stretched, going to sniff at his food bowl.

“Oh you’re starving,” Lillian laughed, opening the door to the cabinet where she kept his food, her head pounding while she leaned down. “Here ya go,” she filled his food bowl up and cracked open a fresh water bottle to fill up his bowl before plugging in her coffee maker and starting a fresh pot brewing. She had learned early on in her migraine endeavors that, unlike most people, caffeine fixed her headaches rather than giving her one.

Grabbing a blanket she had folded on the table she quickly unfolded it and sat down on the couch, draping it over herself and closing her eyes, trying to ignore the pounding in her head. She wished that her coffee would brew faster so she could gain back some of her will to continue filming for the rest of the day after lunch. She knew that her and the rest of the cast had planned to go out to lunch that afternoon but couldn't bring herself to go sit in a loud restaurant for two hours with how quickly her migraine had taken its grip. Letting out a long sigh she felt Bear jump up in her lap and rested a hand on his back, running her fingers through his fur.

Lillian had gotten Bear her senior year of high school, he’s a trained migraine alert dog and accurately alerted her to most of her oncoming migraines for the entire time she had him. He had alerted her of her current one the day before, but she had hoped it would have held off until after work that day. With her head tilted back and eyes closed Lillian continued to run her fingers through the dog’s fur, his chest rising and falling steadily under her hand.

A few minutes later, while the coffee started to sputter out the last bits of coffee, a quiet knock rapped on her door and bear let out a sleep growl. Lillian just laughed lightly before saying ‘come in’ as loud as she could. Her head pounding when she did so, a quiet groan falling from her lips. The door opened and Lillian saw Dylan standing on the other side. He was dressed in a pair of sweats and a black tee shirt, his hair messy on his head and his phone in hand.

“He do his job like he’s supposed to?” Dylan asked Lillian motioning towards Bear who had decided to go back to sleep on Lillian’s lap.

She nodded, “he did,” she knew Dylan wouldn’t be happy with her, now knowing the fact that she had an oncoming migraine she had told no one about until it hit. “I knew too,” she just shrugged while Dylan closed her trailer door behind him. She heard the coffee machine beep, signaling it had finished brewing and Lillian let out a quiet ‘yes’, going to move Bear so she could make a cup.

“I got it,” Dylan told her, walking over to the fridge and pulling out the milk and vanilla creamer she had in it. “Do you care if I take a cup?” He turned to face Lillian while he pulled down the sugar from where she kept it.

Lillian shook her head slightly, “be my guest,” she told him. Dylan busied himself making the mugs of coffee, sliding Lilly’s carefully to her before making his own.

“That’s the sweatshirt I left at your house last weekend,” he nodded to the hoodie she had on, “looks good on you,” he gave a small smile, sitting down on the end of the couch. Lillian shrugged in response, holding her mug between both hands and taking a sip of the warm liquid.

She set the mug down again before speaking, “you left it, and it’s comfy. I’ll give it back later.” she closed her eyes while Bear got off her lap, moving to lay on his bed that currently had rays of sun pouring over it.

“I wasn’t missing it all that much,” Dylan shrugged, taking a sip of his own drink. He turned to face Lillian, a serious look on his face. “Why don’t you ever say anything, especially when Jeff tells you to let him know?” He asked quietly.

Lillian just let out a long sigh, opting to focus on her coffee mug instead of answering right away. “Can we talk about it when I can see out of both of my eyes again and can remember more than just my name and where I am?” she let out a small laugh. “I honestly was just planning on taking a nap after I downed a few mugs of coffee,” she added.

Dylan watched as she started to rub her temples, her eyes closing while she did so. “I can go if you want,” he pointed towards her door.

“No it’s fine, you’re here now and I'm awake we can just watch a movie or something if you want to,” she spoke softly, not opening her eyes at all in the process.

“Lilly-”

“Dylan just, stop worrying,” she let out a long sigh. “Pick a movie and we can just hang out, you really shouldn’t have hung back,” she left the, ‘but I’m glad you did’, out. Lillian had a small crush on her castmate since the first day she had stepped on to set. His sense of humor and off the walls energy just appealed to her. Not to mention he always seemed incredibly sweet and cared about those around him in a way not many people could. The pair had bonded over their shared interest in many of the same sports team and one of them would usually host dinner and some friends on nights of games.

He had also been the one to pick up on her migraine triggers first. He tried to avoid ordering food with too much garlic if he would be hosting the games, and he also knew if he planned on getting Chinese he could only order from a couple of places in the LA area. He knew that days on set where there would be flashing or bright lights and a lot of loud noise would also trigger her migraines sometimes.

Off set, Dylan had learned to pay careful attention to Bear and could often notice when the dog was signaling to Lillian that she would have an oncoming migraine within the next day. “We don’t have to watch a movie,” Dylan shrugged and set his now empty mug next to Lillian’s. “You know I share your love for naps,” He laughed lightly kicking his shoes off and stretching out across her couch. “Give me a pillow and if you come lay up here I can rub your head,” he offered.

Lillian pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, thinking the offer over. She knew that it would help her, and Dylan had done it before for her, but she didn’t want to get too cozy with him. Especially with her feelings growing stronger and stronger in the past weeks. “You don’t mind?” she asked quietly.

“No I don’t mind,” Dylan shook his head with a small smile. Now give me a pillow and come share your blanket!” Lillian reached underneath her couch to grab one of the pillows she kept in her trailer and handed it to Dylan who adjusted it on the arm of the couch so he could comfortably lay on it. He sunk further into the couch, hanging his legs over the end, before opening his arms so Lilly could tuck into his side.

Carefully shuffling around on the small couch, Lillian laid her head on Dylan’s chest and tucked in as close to him as possible so she could make sure she wouldn’t fall off the end. Pulling her blanket around both of them, Dylan wrapped his free arm around her back and the other started to gently rub at her left temple. “I don’t know how you balance everything,” he mumbled quietly, watching Lilly’s eyes close.

“I’ve been doing it since like middle school,” she replied, yawning at the end. “You get used to it, trust me.”

Dylan moved his hand so it carded through her hair a few times before rubbing where the back of her skull met her neck, “but still,” he sighed. “I just feel bad is all,” he wasn’t quite sure what to say.

“Well you’re helping right now, so don’t feel bad,” Lillian snuggled more into his side. Her right hand resting on his chest. “Seriously this is more than I can ask for. At home I’ll sleep on a heating pad to try and help a little bit. Having an actual person is more than enough,” he words started to bleed together while she started to drift off.

Dylan let out a small laugh, his chest vibrating against Lillian’s hand and cheek when he did so. He let his own eyes close while he moved his hand again, his thumb gently rubbing up and down the bridge of Lilly’s nose. He remembered her mentioning it the first time he had found them in this position. She had said her mom would do it when she had been younger and couldn’t sleep at night from her migraines.

Opening his eyes when he felt Lilly’s breathing even out completely, he noticed her facial features had relaxed significantly, her brow no longer stuck in a tight crease. Her lips weren’t turned into a frown anymore and her nose no longer scrunched up in discomfort. He continued to rub her temples and up and down the bridge of her nose until Bear decided to use the steps to get up on the sofa to crawl into his lap and go back to sleep himself.

“God,” Dylan breathed out slowly, letting his hand come to rest on Lillian’s hip once he knew she was actually asleep. “I am fucked,” he closed his eyes and decided to make use of the break to catch up on sleep himself.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

“Where are Dylan and Lillian?” Jeff approached the group of young actors when they had returned to set from their lunch break. “I’ve been texting and calling both of them and they haven't answered.” He looked around the group for an answer.

“Uhh-” Tyler Posey trailed off. “I know Dylan stayed behind to check on Lilly earlier, he said she had a migraine starting earlier and didn’t really want to tell anyone.” Jeff looked around the group, waiting to see if anyone else had an answer for him as to where the two could be.

Holland grabbed Tyler’s arm and nodded to him, “we’ll go see if we can find them,” she told Jeff with a small smile. The pair started in the direction of the cast’s trailers and Holland let out a long sigh. “This is why she's supposed to mention these things, no one wants her hurt or sick.” She spoke with genuine concern for her friend.

“She told Dylan,” Tyler shrugged while they walked up the lines of trailers until they saw Lilly’s. “I mean, it’s something,” he added.

Holland just nodded and looked at Tyler. “Yeah, she likes him and he likes her, they’re happily oblivious to it though.” Holland approached Lilly’s trailer and looked in the window. She turned around to face Tyler with a smirk and nodded towards the window.

Tyler approached the window and pushed himself up on his toes so he could see in. He noticed the pair curled up on Lilly’s couch together, asleep, and Lilly’s dog curled up on Dylan’s lap. “I bet they're both still pinning though,” He laughed quietly. “Should we see if the door’s open?” He asked Holland.

“Probably,” she walked up the stairs to the trailer and pushed on the door that swung open. Bear lifted his head to watch the pair, but didn’t make any noise. He knew the two and also knew they would often supply him with treats if he behaved. She watched Tyler take out his phone and take a picture of them before tucking it back into his pocket.

“For safekeeping,” he laughed while Holland approached the pair. She reached out and shook Dylan’s left shoulder, trying to carefully wake him up. He let out a quiet groan and opened his eyes, blinking sleepily at the room around him. When his eyes came into focus he noticed Holland and Tyler standing in the middle of the trailer, knowing smirks on their faces.

Dylan cleared his throat before speaking, “she had a headache, I just offered to help,” his voice slightly scratchy from sleep.

“And you are both absolutely oblivious to the mutual feelings between each other apparently,” Holland rolled her eyes. “You’re both supposed to be on set, but I’m sure Jeff wouldn’t mind wrapping early if he understood her situation.” Dylan looked down to where Lilly still laid passed out on his chest.

Dylan sighed, “might be best for the day, I know earlier she wasn’t really able to see out of her one eye. Probably not the safest thing on set.” He watched Lilly turn her face further into his chest and started rubbing her temple again.

“Yeah, man,” Tyler gave him a small smile. “We’ll go talk to Jeff and you see how she’s feeling.” He turned to leave the trailer, Holland hanging around a few seconds longer.

“Trust me Dyl,” she let out a quiet sigh, “just tell her, I know you won’t be disappointed,” and with that she turned to follow Tyler.

Dylan closed his eyes for a second before opening the again, lightly wrapping his hand around Lilly’s shoulder and shaking her. “Lills,” he hummed, “you gotta wake up,” he said. Lilly groaned and he watched her peel her eyes open, blinking at the light filling up the trailer and tucking her face into Dylan’s chest again.

“I know,” he rubber her shoulder, “you still feel shitty, but Holland and Tyler are going to see if Jeff can end the day early-”

“Nope,” Lillian sat up quickly, groaning when she did. Her head still pounded and she wanted to go back to sleep, but she had a job to get done. “I just need to change and-”

“You need to lay back down,” Dylan grabbed her arm and pulled her back into his chest. “I care too much about you to keep letting you do this to yourself,” he added. Lilly just closed her eyes, trying to will her nausea to go away, not wanting to throw up in front of Dylan, of all people. She felt a few tears of pain and frustration slip out of the corners of her eyes and gave up, sinking back into Dylan’s warm embrace.

“This fucking sucks,” she sniffled while Dylan’s thumb started rubbing up and down the bridge of her nose again. “I can’t just not work because I have a headache, everyone gets headaches, I just need a few minutes to get rid of the queasiness,” she mumbled.

Dylan shushed her and used his thumb to wipe away the tears that slipped out of her eyes. “You need to rest more, Lills,” he started rubbing her back with his other hand. “Tyler and Holland are going to come tell me we can leave early and then I’ll drive you and your furry friend here home.” He looked down to Bear who had fallen asleep again.

“I don’t-” Lillian squeezed her eyes shut tighter, “I don’t want to be home alone,” she spoke quietly. “It’ll just last longer and then I won’t sleep and I’ll still have it tomorrow and-”

“I’ll stay,” he cut her off, “as long as it’s okay with you.”

“Dylan you don’t-”

“I want to, Lilly,” he looked down at her, her eyes finally open again. “I care about you,” he took in a shaky breath. “A lot, and I won’t leave you alone like this,” he continued to play with your hair. “I want to help you take care of this,” he leaned in and pressed his lips to her forehead. “So please just, let me take care of you for once.”

“I-” Lillian trailed off, looking up at Dylan who watched her closely. “I don’t want to tie you down with this, you don’t deserve to deal with this,” she shook her head.

Dylan hummed in response and shook his head ‘no’, rubbing her temple again with his pointer and middle fingers. “I like this though,” he smiled lightly, “you’re warm and comfortable, Bear is asleep in my lap,” he shrugged, “I’m quite happy where I am.” He watched Lilly look at him, her face stuck in a state of disbelief.

Just when Lilly went to speak again, Tyler, Crystal and Holland appeared in the trailer door. “Jeff said we can stop for the day, it was all just going to be getting a head start anyway,” Tyler said.

“See,” Dylan looked down at Lilly, “thanks guys!” he addressed the others. They all gave Dylan knowing smiles before telling Lilly to feel better and leaving the pair alone again. “Now, let’s get you two home and order something to eat that won’t bother your head more.”

Lillian sat up slowly, a small smile on her face while she pet Bear who yawned and opened his eyes also. “As long as you promise to snuggle more,” she pouted at Dylan.

“I promise to snuggle more,” he laughed sliding off the couch. “Now let’s go.”

#dylan o'brien #dylan obrien #dylan obrien imagine #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski imagine #anna writes

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wistfulcynic · 4 years ago

Text

The Bend of the Arc (3/ 4)

SUMMARY: Emma Swan hates Killian Jones at first sight. He's everything she despises in a man: arrogant, provocative, and a known criminal associate of the city’s most notorious gangster. She’s determined to put him behind bars, until a shocking event forces them together and Emma discovers that there’s a lot more to Killian than meets the eye.

Rating: M (smut and language) Words: 9.3k (of 30k total) Tags: Modern AU, enemies to lovers, bounty hunter!Emma, criminal!Killian, smut, bedsharing

Part One | Part Two | On AO3

PART THREE:

Emma awoke again to an empty bed, to the indentation of Killian’s head in the pillow next to her and his familiar spicy scent. This time though the light through the windows was the bright pale yellow of early morning and she could hear noises from the other room, the clatter of utensils and the sizzle of cooking food. They were accompanied by a rich aroma of coffee, which Emma followed eagerly to the kitchen where Killian was standing at the stove scrambling some eggs.

“Morning, Swan,” he said cheerfully. “Coffee?”

“Yes, please.”

“How do you take it?”

“Um, I don’t suppose you have any cinnamon-flavoured coffee creamer?”

He turned to her with an expression of such genuine horror that she burst out laughing.

“I absolutely do not,” he declared. “What abomination is that?”

“You probably don’t want to know. In that case, milk and plenty of sugar, please.”

As he prepared her a cup she looked around the kitchen, noting that in addition to the scrambled eggs there was a plate of whole wheat toast and a bowl of fruit salad.

“You really do eat healthy, don’t you?” she observed.

“Well, you know what they say, love. The body is a temple.” He handed her the coffee with a grin and a quirked eyebrow. “And mine certainly deserves to be worshipped.”

“Sure it does,” she replied, hiding her own grin. “You just keep thinking that. I’ll stick to my cinnamon creamer.” She half expected him to make some remark about her body deserving better or that he’d be happy to worship her if she wasn’t going to, but he didn’t. Instead, he said:

“There’s plenty of food if you’d like some too. Help yourself.”

“Oh.” Emma squashed the flare of disappointment, which she shouldn’t even feel. “Um, are you sure?”

“Of course.” He smiled again and handed her a plate. “Like I said before, have whatever you like. We don’t know how long we’ll be here and I don’t want you to spend weeks feeling like you have to ask me every time you want something to eat. And if I’m cooking it’s no problem to make enough for two.”

Emma took the plate, ignoring the flutter of excitement low in her belly at the prospect of weeks here alone with Killian, focusing instead on loading up her plate with toast and eggs and after a short debate, a few spoonfuls of fruit. She took her meal over to the window seat and sat down, peering up at the scattered patches of blue sky she could make out through the trees.

“So what do you do when you’re here?” she asked.

“Read, mostly,” Killian replied, making himself comfortable in his chair. “Go for walks. Swim.”

“Swim?”

“Aye, there’s a little lake not far from here. The water is absolutely freezing but it’s amazingly clear.” He paused, then gave her a cautious smile. “We could go sometime. Er, if you’d like.”

“Hmm. Maybe.” The flutter intensified, and Emma concentrated on her food.

“Well, um, just let me know.” Killian toyed with chunk of orange on his plate. “I’m planning to go for a walk after breakfast actually. You’re welcome to come along. I can show you where the lake is, and some other landmarks.”

That sounded kind of wonderful, she thought. As cosy as the cabin was, she didn’t like the idea of being stuck in it all day. “I’d like that, actually, but I haven’t got any shoes I could hike in,” she pointed out. “Or, you know, clothes.”

“Oh. Right. Of course. Well you can wear my clothes, but the shoes do present something of a problem.” His brow creased as he thought. “I’m pretty sure I have a pair of sneakers somewhere that are a bit too small for me. With a couple pairs of socks they might do for you. I can dig them out. I mean—only if you want to.”

“Yeah.” Emma smiled at him. “That sounds great. Thanks.”

They finished their breakfasts in companionable silence, then Emma went to take a shower and change into the jeans, clean tee and flannel shirt that Killian provided, and two pairs of his thick socks. His shoes were ridiculously big on her but she laced them tightly and with a bit of practice managed to walk well enough, though, as she told him wryly, she now had a fuller appreciation of what being a clown felt like.

“Good job they’re not red shoes, then, really,” he remarked with a grin.

They set out into the forest, Killian carrying a rucksack packed with a compass, blanket, and thermos of coffee. Though he’d agreed with her the day before that he wasn’t an outdoorsy type, she couldn’t help noticing how comfortable he seemed. and wondered how much time he spent at the cabin. It wasn’t exactly easy to get to and a man like him could hardly just disappear and have his absence go unnoticed, but then everything was so perfectly designed and equipped to be a snug little haven for him that it couldn’t only be for emergencies.

It felt like his home, and she felt a bit like an intruder.

Killian led her through the trees along no path she could see, but soon enough they emerged just above a small, round lake, bright blue and shimmering in the morning sunshine.

“Oh,” she gasped. “That’s beautiful.”

“Mmm,” he agreed. “Colder than a witch’s tit, as I said, but refreshing. Shall we sit for a while?” He gestured at an outcrop of rock just to their left, with a wide, flat surface like a low table.

“Ah, sure.”

She watched as he dug the blanket out of his rucksack and spread it over the rock, then hopped up onto it and sat cross-legged, glad of the insulation between her butt and the cold surface. Killian sat next to her, and after another rummage in the rucksack produced a large enamel mug.

“What’s this for?” she asked, taking it.

“Coffee.” He pulled out the thermos and popped it open, filling the mug before she could object.

“Um.” Emma didn’t want to be ungrateful, but—“I don’t drink it black.”

“Never fear, Swan,” he smirked, withdrawing another, smaller thermos. “Your abhorrent coffee-related proclivities have been noted. Put some of this in.”

The small thermos proved to be filled with sweetened milk and “Is that cinnamon!” Emma exclaimed.

“Aye. I had some cinnamon sticks and I heated one up with the milk. Perhaps not on the level of your coffee creamer, but it should do for now.”

Emma poured the warm, fragrant milk into her mug and sipped with a happy sigh. “It’s really good,” she said, with a sidelong glance at him.

He smiled his boyish smile and rubbed at his neck, just below his ear. “I’m glad you like it,” he replied softly.

They sat in silence for a long while, sipping their coffee and taking in the scenery. It was a comfortable silence, Emma realised, and a companionable one. Silence normally made her jumpy and anxious, but she had never felt that way with Killian, not from the very beginning. She cast another glance at him from the corner of her eye, wondering what he was thinking. His face was calm and unreadable, his eyes on the trees across the lake.

When the thermoses were empty he re-packed them in his rucksack and they continued on their walk. Emma kept a sharp eye out as they went, trying to spot anything that looked familiar. She felt pretty sure they were heading back towards the cabin but they seemed to be following a different route than the one they had taken away from it.

Killian confirmed this a moment later.

“The cabin is over there,” he said, pointing off to their left. “You can just see it through the trees.”

Emma squinted. “Yeah—yeah, I see it.”

“And just there”—he pointed directly in front of them—“is a stream that leads down to the lake where we left the motorboat. If you ever need to get back to that lake, follow the stream.”

Emma gave him a sharp look. “Why would I need to get back to that lake?”

He turned to her with a solemn expression. “Very few people know about this cabin,” he said, “and all of them are people I trust, people who owe me considerable debts and loyalty. It’s extremely unlikely Gold will ever find us here. But a wise man takes precautions even against unlikely developments. If you ever need to get back to that lake, Emma, follow this stream. Can you remember that?”

Emma shivered, and not from the brisk forest air. “Yeah,” she said. “I’ll remember.”

Killian sighed and his shoulders relaxed. “Good. Shall we go back?”

They didn’t speak when they returned to the cabin, busying themselves with unpacking the rucksack and rinsing the thermoses, then making some sandwiches for lunch with the remaining fruit salad. Killian took up his book again and Emma did the same, spending a relaxed few hours discovering how the pirate captain and his love found their happy ending.

She got a bit emotional over it, to her chagrin, but that was nothing to how she felt when she began reading the next book she picked from Killian’s shelves. This one was a story of love lost and regained, of a boy who went off to war not knowing he was leaving his best friend pregnant after a night they could barely remember, then returned years later scarred and fragile to find her again, along with the son he never knew he had. It made Emma’s heart ache, and she didn’t realise she was crying until Killian appeared at her side with a plate of chicken and salad for her dinner and boundless empathy in his voice.

“Are you all right, love?”

She startled at the question and wiped the tears from her cheeks with a sharp, impatient gesture, not looking up. She knew he would be looking at her with that gentle understanding in his eyes, and she wasn’t equipped to deal with that in her current mood.

“Yeah,” she said, accepting the plate. “I’m fine.”

They ate in silence, Killian sitting down and taking up his book again, but Emma felt too raw to return to hers though she was desperate to know how the story ended.

“I really don’t cry very often,” she blurted. “Honestly. Before yesterday I think the last time was—” Fuck.

“Was when?” His voice was calm and undemanding. If she refused to answer he would accept that decision and not try to push. But Emma found herself wanting to answer. She wanted to talk about it, wanted him to know. Maybe it was the intimacy of the cabin or the fact that she would never see him again once this was all over. Or maybe it was because she knew—knew—that he would understand.

“The day I had my baby,” she replied. “And gave him away.”

Taking a deep breath, she looked over at him and there it was, the understanding in those blue eyes, understanding and empathy and not a hint of judgement. “That sounds like something worthy of your tears,” he said.

“I don’t like to talk about it,” she choked, as her eyes brimmed again. “But I still think about it. Every year on his birthday.”

“It must have been a very difficult decision.”

She laughed, low and bitter. “It wasn’t, though. It was easy. I didn’t—I didn’t want to give him up but I knew I couldn’t keep him. There was just no way I could take care of him; I was barely eighteen, I’d dropped out of high school, I was in ja—” Her eyes flew to his and he gave her a small smile.

“You were in jail, for the theft of some rather valuable watches,” he finished.

She huffed. “Do I want to know how you know that?”

“Probably not.”

Emma wiped her cheeks again and took a bite of chicken. She felt better in a way she couldn’t quite explain, her chest less tight and the heart within it less heavy. She thought about Killian digging up information on her as she had on him, and found she didn’t hate the idea.

“So did you research me, then?” she asked.

“I did.” The corner of his mouth quirked. “It seemed only fair, as I knew you would do the same.”

“Sure, but I was trying to catch you doing something illegal,” she shot back, throwing the words down like a challenge, daring him to take offence. “What was your excuse?”

His expression shifted, not into anger but something just as dark, something that made her catch her breath. “I told you, Swan, you intrigue me.”

Emma’s belly twisted at the deep timbre of his voice. “I—I can’t think why.”

“Abandoned as a baby, shunted through the foster system until you ran away when you were sixteen, fell in with a rough crowd,” he enumerated, holding her gaze. “You very nearly stumbled down a path that led to more serious crime and far lengthier jail time. But you didn’t. You sorted yourself out, found a career that suits you, became the best at it. You took control of your life, and you did it all on your own. That takes a great deal of courage and determination.”

“I—never looked at it that way before.”

“Perhaps you should start.” His voice was still pitched deep but also meltingly soft, his eyes intense. “You’re a remarkable woman, Emma Swan.”

Emma didn’t reply. She had no idea what to say—his words and the way he spoke them, the way he looked at her made her feel hot and weak inside even as her skin crackled with tense energy.

Killian closed his book and laid it on the table. She watched as his jaw muscle flexed, and when he leaned back in his chair and met her eyes again his own were conflicted.

“I knew Neal Cassidy,” he said grimly. “He worked for Pan.”

“I know who he worked for,” Emma spat. “Now I do, I mean, I didn’t then. I thought he was like me, a lost kid all alone.” She scowled as she remembered how stupid she’d been, how many glaring red flags she’d ignored in her desperation to believe Neal’s lies. “I thought we could be each other’s family, but it turned out he already had one of those. Just not the sort of family I was looking for. I guess—I guess it makes sense that you would’ve known him.” She hated to think about it though. Hated even hearing Neal’s name from Killian’s mouth. “Did you know that I was the one who put him in jail?”

“No I didn’t, though that also makes sense.” Killian’s lips twitched. “That must have been satisfying.”

“Oh it was. Even more than when I nailed the foster father who stuck his hand down my pants then threw me onto the streets when I fought back, and told the state I’d run away.” She smirked. “I bet you didn’t read that in my files.”

That muscle was leaping in his jaw again, and his eyes were lethal. “I did not,” he growled. “Swan—”

“Yep. He tried to assault me and nothing happened to him, they wrote me off as a runaway and gave him another foster kid to abuse. But he got arrested eventually, for indecent exposure, and when he skipped bail I took great pleasure in hauling his worthless ass to jail.”

Killian’s fury was palpable, his fists clenched on the arms of his chair and his jaw like iron. “Bloody bastard got less than he deserved,” he snarled.

“That’s exactly what I thought.” Emma was caught in her emotion, in the fury that always bubbled up when she thought about all the men in her life who’d mistreated her and got away with it, who manipulated and bargained their way out of trouble. “Of course he didn’t actually stay in jail,” she sneered. “His lawyer cut him a deal and he walked away with probation.” Her own fist clenched at the memory. “I hate that so fucking much, that so many people do shitty things and are never punished for them. I hate people who try to escape consequences that they fucking deserve.”

“Ah.”

Too late Emma recalled who she was speaking to, and the root of the conflict between them. “Killian, I didn’t mean—”

“Yes you did.” He smiled with his mouth but his eyes were desolate, aching with emotions she could swear she felt along with him, bitter recrimination and regret. “It’s fine, love, I understand. I—if you’ll excuse me I think I’ll go to bed.”

“Oh. Okay.”

He nodded. “Good night, Swan.”

“Good night.”

She watched as he disappeared into the bathroom, heard the water running through the pipes and the flush of the toilet, then he came out again and went straight into the bedroom without so much as a glance at her, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Emma picked up her plate and his as well, took them to the sink and slowly washed them, stacked them in the dish rack neatly as she’d seen Killian do. She put the leftover salad in the fridge and wiped down the counters, making sure everything was lined up and tidy the way he liked it. Then she tidied the living room.

When she’d stalled for as long as she could she went to the bathroom, washed her face and brushed her teeth and changed back into the pajama pants and t-shirt she’d worn the day before. Approaching the bedroom door as quietly as she could she listened for a moment but heard nothing, and hoped that meant Killian was asleep. She pressed her forehead hard against the grain of the wood, trying hard not to think about the pain in his eyes and her own upset at having put it there. She did that all the time, spoke before she thought and hurt people with her words, but she had never felt truly sorry for it until now. If people didn’t like hearing the truth then they shouldn’t do things that made the truth painful to hear—that was Emma’s philosophy and it should apply to Killian too, she thought fiercely. He was a criminal and he should be in jail, and yet the thought of putting him there made her stomach churn.

Almost as much as it was churning at the thought of going into the bedroom and getting into bed with him. She reminded herself that they’d shared that bed twice already, but this time she would be awake for it, to hear his breathing and feel the warmth of his body and—she shook those thoughts from her head.

Opening the door as quietly as she could, she crept to the bed, her footfalls barely audible on the floorboards. The room was dark save for the ivory moonlight that filtered through the trees to cast shifting shadow patterns over the bed and Killian’s still form upon it.

She slid in beside him, trying to move as little as possible as she adjusted her pillows and the blankets around her. He remained still but for the soft rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, slow and even, though she sensed he wasn’t sleeping.

She rolled over onto her side to face the back he had turned to her, finding him closer even than she’d envisioned. The bed seemed so big when she was alone in it, but with Killian there beside her it shrank to nearly nothing. She could reach out so easily, he was right there, the back of his head inches from her face, his hair so thick and soft…

Emma flopped onto her back and threw her arm over her eyes. Killian shifted and for a moment she thought he might roll over… but he burrowed deeper into his pillow and then was still again, his breathing determinedly measured.

I’m so sorry, she thought at him. I meant it but also I didn’t and—I’m just sorry I hurt you Killian. I never wanted to hurt you.

She didn’t realise she’d said the words aloud until he sighed and she felt him speak as much as heard it.

“It’s all right, Emma. Truly. Go to sleep.”

Emma rolled onto her side again, her back to his back, and closed her eyes. It was a long time before she slept.

That day became the model for their routine. Killian woke first and had coffee waiting for Emma when she got up. They ate breakfast together then took a long walk, returning for lunch and an afternoon spent reading, then dinner and conversation—carefully neutral conversation that deliberately avoided anything too personal or any reference to their jobs or their pasts or how they’d met. Despite this, Emma soon realised that those discussions were opening her eyes to the truth of Killian, the complex and fascinating man that lay beneath what she had come to recognise as his own brand of armour, as thick and impenetrable as her own.

On the fifth day they went outside at twilight and built a bonfire in the fire pit behind the cabin, roasting potatoes and eggs in the ashes, and she actually teased him about the lack of s’mores, laughing until she cried at his exaggerated horror as she described toasting marshmallows and squishing them between layers of chocolate and graham cracker. When they went to bed that night she feared the tension would suffocate her, lying there with his scent in her nose and her fingertips barely brushing against a fold in his shirt, not a touch he could feel but one that squeezed the air from her lungs and made her ache with the inadequacy of it.

On the sixth day they went swimming.

They walked to the lake, towels packed in Killian’s rucksack, he with swim trunks on under his clothes and she wearing another of his t-shirts and a pair of his boxer briefs she was trying hard not to think about.

She had been trying hard not to think about a lot of things relating to Killian lately, like that armour he wore so well she’d entirely failed to spot it at first. To be fair to herself, his act was good. Really good. So good she’d been taken in completely, her superpower rendered useless by her visceral outrage at his taunting and how thoroughly she’d despised him. He’d known exactly what buttons to push to make her so angry she wouldn’t think to look deeper, or to consider that maybe he had to behave as he did to have any hope of surviving among the dangerous people he worked with.

Once they’d arrived at the cabin—or no, before that even. In the car with the handkerchief, before they’d even begun their journey here he’d dropped the act so completely that now she could barely remember it, could hardly call up any of the hot fury and bitter loathing she’d felt for him for the best part of a year. After less than a week in his company—his true company—it had gone up like smoke with no trace left behind and what remained…

That was another thing Emma had been trying hard not to think about.

Killian led her down to the shore of the lake where he spread their towels down on the sandy grass and shot her a grin as he began to unbutton his shirt. It wasn’t a suggestive grin, though, thought Emma with a surge of frustration she wished she didn’t feel. It was a nice, friendly grin, exactly the sort of grin he’d been grinning, when he chose to grin, since their arrival. She never would have thought she’d miss his innuendoes but damn it she did. She missed the challenge of them and the excuse they gave her to snap back and relieve her feelings. The way sparring with him made her blood race.

Not that she needed help to get her blood racing, she reflected with an internal groan as Killian began to strip down to his trunks. Just being near him was excruciating enough, with his face and his eyes and his chest that was never freaking covered and the way he always smelled so damned delicious and—Emma gave herself a mental shake and concentrated on removing her own outer layers, pointedly ignoring the expanse of Killian’s bare back she could just see from the corner of her eye, the muscles in his shoulders and his legs— “Damn it,” she hissed under her breath as her fingers fumbled on a button.

It was the height of summer but their altitude and the heavy tree cover and the always-cold lake water put a nip in the air, and Emma shivered a bit when she stepped out of Killian’s jeans and shed his flannel shirt.

“Better get used to it,” he remarked. “The water’s colder.”

Emma eyed it warily. “Are you sure this is okay?”

“Absolutely. It’s bracing.”

“That sounds like something people say when they don’t want to say ‘you’re going to hate it,’” she retorted. “Next you’ll be telling me it builds character.”

He laughed, a deep, rolling sound that echoed over the water. “That it does,” he confirmed. “Best jump in all at once and get it over with. None of that ‘dipping a toe in’ nonsense.” He reached out, eyebrow quirked in challenge. “Ready?”

Emma hesitated only a moment before taking his hand, suppressing another shiver at the warmth of it, the slight roughness of his palm. It would feel so good stroking her bare skin, up her inner thigh until his fingers could slip between—no. Fuck. Damn it. She resisted the urge to smack herself in the forehead. Maybe a dip in a freezing lake was exactly what she needed.

“Let’s do this,” she said.

They took off at a run and plunged together into the water, Emma shrieking at the shock of cold but not stopping, letting Killian urge her along until the water was waist high and then diving under alongside him. She’d never felt anything like it, the cold so intense it sucked the air from her lungs, numbed her skin and the tips of her fingers and toes, and when she surfaced the cool air felt beautifully warm by contrast.

“Oh my God!” she gasped, shaking the water from her face and hair. “That was—”

Her eyes found Killian watching her with an expectant grin, water dripping down his head and making rivulets though the thick hair on his chest. She wanted to follow them with her fingertips and with her tongue and—

“It was what?” he encouraged.

“Bracing,” she finished. “You were right. I don’t think I’ve ever been so fucking braced.”

He laughed again. “You’ll get used to it, and swimming will warm you up. Get your breath back and then—” he leaned closer, eyebrow quirked. “—we race.”

They swam for the rest of the morning, racing to the centre of the lake and back, laughing and splashing each other and generally behaving like idiot children. Emma felt lighter and more carefree than she had for ages and also twisted up near to breaking in frustration and the stupid fucking longing she felt watching water droplets trail down the neck she wanted to lick, or drip from the hair she itched to feel between her fingers. How much more fun their morning in the lake would have been if she could have touched him as she wanted, she thought. If he would just touch her.

He was so careful not to. No accidental brushes of their fingers when he handed her a mug or a plate, no rolling over to be closer to her in bed. He might offer her his hand as he had earlier or to help her over a tricky patch of ground on their walks, but he always gave her the choice not to take it and he never, ever pushed.

It was almost enough to make her think that his come-ons from their early acquaintance had just been part of his act. But she knew his tells as well as he did hers—the tension in his shoulders and his jaw, the catch in his breath when she got too near him, and the way he stayed firmly on his side of the bed with his back to her, all night and every night. The heated look she’d caught on his face more than once that morning at the sight of her in wet and clinging clothing and how carefully he’d kept his distance while they swam together. Depriving her, Emma thought crossly, of the chance to let her hands glide over his wet skin and watch his eyes turn dark and hot and his lips—

“You ready, Swan?”

She jumped, looking up to see him dressed and relatively dry, smiling his friendly smile. “Um, yeah,” she replied. “Just about.”

She finished buttoning her shirt and shook out her towel, folded it up and handed it to Killian. He packed it into the rucksack which he then slung over his shoulder and side by side they headed back to the cabin.

When they got there Killian tossed their swimming clothes and towels in the washing machine and made them some lunch. They ate in their accustomed places, she curled on the window seat and he in his chair, each with a book. Emma’s was another romance—she would never admit it, but she was hooked on them now. They were surprisingly fascinating and Killian had been right about the sex—but that afternoon it couldn’t hold her attention. She kept glancing over at Killian and losing her train of thought, distracted by his fingers toying absently with his hair as he read, and how she could always tell when he was at an exciting part in his book because he would bite his lip and hold his breath, releasing it in a slow exhale when the suspense had passed. The hair peeking out from behind he open buttons on his shirt made her think of his bare chest that morning and how much she wanted to card her fingers through it, feel his hands on her and his mouth and his tongue, and—

“I don’t find you repugnant,” she blurted, and immediately wanted to fall into a hole and die.

“Um,” he looked up from his book with a little half-smile, his forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Thanks?”

“No, it’s just—before,” she stuttered, cheeks blazing bright pink. “The—the first night. You said you weren’t interested in pursuing women who find you repugnant. But I—don’t. I mean maybe once, but not anymore.”

His gaze sharpened with something that made her belly twist—the same fierce longing that tormented her. He closed his book and set it on the table.

“Swan,” he said slowly, in a voice that sounded choked. “What are you saying?”

“I—” She swallowed through her dry throat.

Killian stood from his chair and moved towards her, slowly but with that lithe grace that hinted at his ability to move much faster. God, she wanted to know how he could move. He stopped in front of her and held her gaze, his eyes intense.

“Are you saying that you want me to pursue you?”

She gulped. “Um—”

“Because Emma, if that’s what you want you have only to say the word.”

Emma’s heart was pounding and her breath short and fast. She could feel the heat of his body and the tingle of reaction in her own, and she wanted so badly to touch him. Wanted him to touch her, with his rough hands and his clever mouth—and from the heat in his eyes he wanted exactly the same, just as much. Yet he didn’t move and in a flash of understanding she realised that he wouldn’t, not ever—not unless she asked him to. He would never do anything she didn’t want, however much he might want it, and knowing that made Emma feel safer than she ever had in her life. Safe enough to let herself be soft, to smile at him with simple desire and simpler trust.

“That’s what I want,” she said softly. “I want you.”

The words had barely left her mouth when he was pulling her to her feet and into his arms, his fingers stroking across her cheek and sliding into her hair.

“Do you mean it?” he demanded, his voice a rough whisper. “Truly?”

“Yes. Yes I—” she said fiercely, trailing into a throaty moan when he kissed her.

The kiss was rough at first, desperate, demanding lips and tongues and teeth, her fingernails scoring his shoulders and his arm like iron around her waist, their harsh breaths sounding loud in the quiet cabin. But then he pressed her back against the wall and cupped her cheek in his palm, stroking her chin with his thumb as he slowed the kiss and gentled it, deepened it until she was sighing and melting against him, her hands fisted in his shirt.

She tugged the shirt from his jeans and fumbled with it, cursing all its buttons and wondering how mad he’d be if she just tore it off him when his hand slipped beneath her t-shirt to cup her breast and he gave a pained, strangled groan. Emma broke their kiss and frowned up at him, her fingers still working at his buttons.

“What is it?” she asked. “Are you okay? Is this o—”

“Yes! God, yes, its just that”—he stroked his thumb across her nipple, groaning again when she whimpered—“you’ve been wearing my t-shirts with no bra and it’s—it’s been rather distracting is all.”

She felt flushed at the idea of him noticing that and thinking about it, thinking about her and them and this, just as she’d been thinking of him. She finished unbuttoning his shirt and pushed it down his shoulders and when he pulled it off and tossed it aside she did the same with her t-shirt.

“Is that better?” she purred.

He pounced on her with a hiss of breath through his teeth, grabbing her by the waist and lifting her up so he could reach her nipples with his mouth. “Much better,” he growled against her pebbled skin. She laughed over a moan and sank her fingers into his hair, holding his head against her breast and wrapping her legs around his waist as he stumbled through the bedroom door and tumbled them onto the bed.

She purred as she reached for his chest, raking through the hair on it with her fingernails while he tugged his jeans off her, groaning when he found her bare beneath them. He sank to his knees next to the bed and draped her legs over his shoulders, kissing her knee and then a slow trail up one thigh as his hand caressed the other, ignoring her strangled pleas and the fingers grasping at his hair as he nuzzled his nose through her curls. She clawed at his head and dug her heels into his back and he looked up at her with an absolutely wicked grin before finally, finally gripping her thighs hard and burying his face between them.

She moaned and arched her back as he licked into her, clenched her legs around his head to hold him in place though he seemed in no hurry to go anywhere—humming deep in his throat as his tongue explored her slowly, thoroughly, as though there was nothing he savoured more in the world than the taste of her cunt, and Emma realised that she had never felt more beautiful than she did right there, in that moment.

He worked her up so high and held her so close to the edge that by the time he pressed the tip of his tongue against her clit that was all she needed, crying out as her fingers clutched at the blankets and her hips thrust up helplessly against his face. He licked her until she quieted, until she lay boneless and spent, then trailed kisses up her body, pressing a final one to her jaw before collapsing against her, his face in her hair.

“That was better than I imagined,” he panted. “And believe me when I tell you I imagined it a lot.”

“You did?”

He chuckled. “Oh, Swan. If you knew…”

She trailed her fingertips down his side to hook beneath the waistband of his jeans. “Why don’t you tell me,” she purred. “Or better yet, show me.”

“Well,” he growled, pressing a sucking kiss into the curve between her neck and shoulder then trailing down to nip at her collarbone. “I confess the majority of my fantasies involve fucking you in various locations and many, many positions, some of which I’ll be honest are probably physically impossible.”

She giggled as his mouth continued its path down her chest, his tongue swirling around one nipple as his fingers toyed with the other. “Like what?”

“Bent over the kitchen counter,” he murmured. “And the window seat and the arm of my chair. Wrapped around me in the bathtub, up against a tree, on the rock by the lake, in the lake. You sitting on the porch railing with your legs around my waist, or spread out on the ground with firelight on your skin as I make you come again and again and again…”

“And what about here?” she asked. “In the bed?”

He looked up at her, his face stark and earnest. “Every night, love. Every bloody night I’ve wanted to roll over and pull you close, kiss you until you were soft and aching and dripping wet, then strip your gorgeous body bare and make—make you feel good.”

“Mmmm.” His words sent heat licking through her veins, left her as aching and wet as he could hope for. “You’ve done that already.”

“Would you mind terribly if I did it again?”

His hand stroked down her belly and she let her knees fall apart as his fingers dipped inside her, her own hands scrabbling with the button and zipper on his jeans. She shoved them down and closed her fist around his cock, pumping it slowly as he groaned.

“Emma, I don’t—I don’t have anything—”

“It’s okay, I’m on birth control.”

She shifted beneath him, lining up their hips to bring the tip of him to her entrance and with a strangled moan he pushed inside, shuddering as she rose up to meet him, taking him deep. “Bloody hell,” he gasped, “you feel so good.”

Emma’s head was spinning, her blood hot in her veins and deafening in her ears. She lifted her knees, digging her heels into his ass. “Killian…” she pleaded.

“Aye.” He grasped her thigh, fingers sinking into her skin as he began to move, hard and steady and so deep, the angle delicious, his chest hair abrading her nipples and his eyes dark with lust and wonder as they gazed into hers. She tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled him down to kiss him, sloppy and desperate and so good, all of it so damned good—her tongue in his mouth and his cock in her cunt and the pressure building low in her belly until he tore his mouth from hers and moaned “I’m so close, Emma, please love—” and then she clenched tight around him and they came together.

Afterwards they lay wrapped tightly around each other long past the time when their breathing had slowed and their heart rates calmed, neither wanting to move. Emma wished they could stay like that forever, enjoying the simple pleasure of their bodies pressed close and their hands free to roam... but try as she might she couldn’t stop her brain from working or hold back the emotion rising up in her chest, such a muddled mess of feelings that she wasn’t even sure what some of them were, only that they were all for Killian and not all were good.

“What happened to you?” she asked, wincing even as she spoke the words.

“What do you mean?” His voice was still heavy and sated and she hated herself for ruining this moment, but she couldn’t feel the way she was starting to feel about him, couldn’t let herself feel it, unless she knew.

“How did you get into—I mean—how did you, um, start doing—well—”

She felt the moment he understood, felt his muscles tense and when he spoke again his voice was hard. “How did I become the criminal I am?”

Emma wished she didn’t feel so much like crying. “You know that’s not how I meant it, Killian.”

“Do I?” He sighed and rolled away, leaving her feeling cold and bereft. “But I suppose it’s a reasonable question for you to ask, given the circumstances.”

The hurt was audible in his voice and yet still he understood. She swallowed hard. “Well, I’m asking.”

He sighed again and ran a hand over his face. “I’m not sure this is a bedroom conversation, love. What do you say to a midnight snack?”

“It’s like eight o’clock.”

“Dinner, then. Let me make you dinner and I’ll tell you everything you wish to know.”

“I told you before, if you remember, that I was in the navy.”

“I remember.”

They were sitting on the floor with their backs against the window seat, eating cold roast potatoes and chicken salad. Emma wore a t-shirt with a blanket tucked around her bare legs and Killian was in his pajama pants and nothing more.

“When I joined up I was sixteen,” he continued.

“So young!”

“The youngest they allowed. There weren’t many career options available where I come from. The navy was one of the few that didn’t involve petty crime and drugs, or higher marks in school than I was able to achieve.”

She stared at him, but he didn’t appear to be joking. “Really?”

“What about that surprises you?”

“Well, it’s just—you’re always reading and you know a lot of annoyingly big words. How did you not do well in school?”

He shrugged. “A lot of factors contributed. My mother was ill for a long time and when she died my father—he didn’t take it well. Let’s just say that my home life wasn’t exactly conducive to studying. The navy was an escape, a way out of that narrow life and an opportunity to see the world. And also where my brother went.”

That definitely surprised her. “You have a brother?”

“Had.”

“Oh.” Fuck. “I’m sorry.”

“Aye, me too.” He smiled, faint but reassuring. “It was a long time ago, love.”

That doesn’t mean you’re over it, Emma thought.

“As I was saying, I joined the navy as soon as I possibly could and, as it so happened, at the same time as Graham.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “Which of course you have already deduced. He’d also had a difficult childhood and as you said we bonded. We were assigned to the same ship, the one where my brother was by that time a lieutenant. Graham and I were ratings—grunts, basically—but Liam came to visit us regularly and told us all about life among the officers. Trying to motivate me, you see, to work my way up to that as he had, and I almost did. For the next three years I put everything I had into my job, until finally I earned a place on the officer training course. And then one day my brother was dead.”

“What?” Emma’s eyebrows snapped into a frown. “Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“But how?”

“That’s what I wanted to know. The navy told me nothing, only that he had been involved in a dangerous mission and he hadn’t survived. But I knew there was more to it than that.”

“What made you think that?”

“Our captain, a man named Silver—”

“Whoa, wait, hold up.” Emma held out her hands. “Captain Silver?”

“Aye, I know,” Killian agreed with a smirk. “Nominative determinism.”

“Nomina-what-what?”

“Nominative determinism,” he repeated. “It’s the idea that people are drawn to professions that are represented or somehow symbolised by their names.”

“Ah.” She nodded. “Like my dentist.”

“What’s your dentist’s name?”

“Dr Whiting.”

He laughed. “A fine example. Anyway, Silver was our captain’s name and he did not appreciate pirate jokes or references to Treasure Island. But even aside from his sad lack of any sense of humour he had always struck me as a man not to be trusted, and after Liam’s death that feeling intensified. I couldn’t shake the suspicion that he knew what had really happened to my brother, and that more than that he was responsible for it.” Killian shook his head, his expression haunted. “Graham told me not to be a fool, that I needed to let it go, but I couldn’t. Liam was all I had left of my family, and I needed to know why he had died.”

“So what did you do?” Emma whispered, her heart aching for him.

“I broke into the captain’s quarters and searched his documents.” The corner of his mouth quirked wryly. “My very first criminal act. I found what I was looking for easily; Silver was such an arrogant bastard he barely even bothered to hide it.”

“What did you find?”

“Evidence that this so-called ‘dangerous mission’ Liam had died on was actually a smuggling run, that Silver had been using his position and his ship to run drugs and other cargo for a client he called Pan.”

Emma gasped, though she wasn’t really surprised. “Our Pan?”

“Aye. As I later discovered.”

“Later?”

“Silver caught me in his quarters and as you might expect he was furious. He had me thrown in the brig and made sure that I carried away no evidence of his wrongdoing. He then saw to it that I was dishonourably discharged from the navy. I tried to fight back, tried to get someone to listen to what I knew about Silver, but no one would believe the word of a disgraced rating over that of a decorated captain, and so with no family and no career and no legal means to avenge my brother I took the only path that remained.”

Sadness twisted into a tight knot in Emma’s chest. “You went to work for Pan,” she said flatly.

Killian nodded. “I did. It was clear that the true responsibility for my brother’s death lay with him; Silver was just a means to his ends. I managed to ingratiate myself into his organisation—it was just getting started then—and when he moved from England to the USA he took me with him. Graham had already moved here, and though he and I weren’t in touch anymore I kept tabs on him and so I knew he’d become a cop, and then a detective. When he started working for the organised crime unit I saw my opportunity and approached him with a proposal. I would lever my position to get him the information he needed to take down Pan and everyone associated with him, in exchange for no charges against me and everything they already had wiped clean.” He looked at her, for the first time since he began speaking about his time with Pan. “But of course that part you already knew.”

“But—” Emma shook her head, her mind whirling. “You were Pan’s most trusted associate. His right hand. For ten years.”

“Aye.”

“And the whole time you were working against him?”

“No, love,” said Killian gently. “Don’t try to make me into something heroic. I did terrible things, things that hurt people. At first because I had to, but later—” He shook his head. “That life, it changes you. And whatever my underlying motivations for getting involved in it may have been, the fact is that I lived it, and though my ultimate goal was to bring Pan down I still participated as fully in his rise as in his fall.”

“You had to,” Emma insisted. “If you hadn’t, you’d never have gotten so close to Pan.”

“That is true, but also I saw no reason not to. I was already compromised, with no chance of ever living a truly respectable life so I thought why the fuck not? Why shouldn’t I make what profits I could for myself? Everyone else was just out for themselves, why shouldn’t I be too?” He clenched his fist against his knee, his voice thick with disgust. “In trying to avenge my brother I turned myself into someone he would have hated,” he spat, “but by the time I truly realised that there was no going back. So I went forward instead, as hard as I could.”

Emma placed her hand over his fist, wishing she had a way to soothe him. “But all that is over,” she said softly. “You have legitimate businesses now. I know because I combed through all of them, trying my best to find something to hang on you and I couldn’t. You’re clean, so why—” She broke off as something flitted across his face, just a twitch of emotion, but enough.

“You’re not clean, are you?” she exclaimed, jerking away from him. He sat motionless, save for the tiniest twitch of his fingers as though to chase her hand. “You’re still doing something illegal. What is it?”

He didn’t look at her. “As I told you before, it’s none of your concern.”

“But why?” she cried on a sudden surge of frustrated anger. “Why, when you don’t have to?”

“Stop it, Swan.”

“But—”

“No!” He pushed up from the floor and began to pace, tugging at his hair. “You’re trying to make me out to be someone I’m not. I am exactly who and what you thought I was on the night we first met. That is who I am.”

“But it’s not who you have to be! Killian, I’m not some silly girl who believes in romantic daydreams, and I’m not trying to whitewash you just because we’ve had sex. But you are not the person I thought you were when we met, not even close. No matter what you’ve done. And you do not have to be what you were.”

“I can’t just change—”

“I’m not suggesting that. You just have to be yourself. This version of you, the one who saved my life at huge risk to his own and brought me here to the one place he feels truly comfortable.” Emma’s voice broke. “ The man who lives in this cabin deserves respect, Killian. He deserves to live in a way he can feel proud of.”

He swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing, and shook his head. “Emma, please,” he whispered, “don’t. Don’t do this. I can’t—I’m not who you think and I can’t be what you nee—” He broke off, staring at her with such aching regret that she could feel it, sinking into her chest and breaking her heart. Then he turned away. “I’m going to bed.”

Emma sat for a long time after the door had shut behind him, her arms wrapped tightly around her legs and her chin on her knees, trying to sort through her feelings.

She should be furious. That was the thought she kept coming back to. She should be furious with Killian and the fact that he was still breaking the law despite the second chance he’d been given. He had shown himself to be the kind of person she hated most in the world—one who did harm to others and faced no consequences for it. He should be in jail for the things he’d done, things he had all but admitted he was still doing, but he wasn’t, and he was smart enough to ensure that he never would be. She should hate him. It was clear he expected her to.

Instead she went into the bedroom and crawled into bed beside him, snuggling against his back and wrapping him tight in her arms. He drew in his breath sharply and his muscles tensed beneath her fingers.

“What are you doing?” he asked warily as she nuzzled his neck. “Emma—”

“Shhh.”

She kissed a trail over his shoulder and down his arm, slipping beneath it to kiss back up his chest, encouraged when his hand stroked down her side and clenched around her hip. She kissed his jaw then cupped it in her hand and kissed his lips, pressing closer when he didn’t respond, until with a groan he opened his mouth under hers. His arms closed around her, his hand sliding up her back and into her hair as he licked deep into her mouth, kissing her like he couldn’t get enough, like he could kiss her for the rest of his days and it would still never be anywhere near enough.

He rolled her onto her back and she went gladly, humming in approval as he nestled between her legs, rolling his hips against her so she could feel his hardening erection. She spread her legs wider and he growled deep in his throat, pulling back to stare at her with eyes dazed with lust and wonder.

“Emma—” he whispered, but she shook her head.

“No. Please, I just—” She wanted to give him more than sex but words were hard for her and her feelings still so confused. “I need this,” she whispered, silently begging him to understand. “We need this.”

He stared at her for a long moment then nodded. “Aye, love. As you wish.”

They removed their clothes quickly then came back together, skin on skin this time and with no hesitation. He kissed her lips and her neck and her breasts, down her belly and over her mound where he kissed deep, licking her to within a whisper of completion then pulling back to hook her leg around his waist and thrust deep inside her.

She was near to sobbing, clutching at the bedsheets and at him, rocking up to meet him and begging brokenly for more and harder and oh fuck yes just there, like that until she came with a hoarse cry and he buried his face in her neck, trembling in her arms as he followed.

They held each other close for a long moment that still felt far too short and then he wordlessly pulled away, going into the bathroom and returning with a damp cloth to clean them both up. She took care of herself and then of him, then took the cloth back to the bathroom where she peed and washed her hands, then stared hard at her reflection in the mirror above the sink, waiting for the regret that she should surely already be feeling.

It didn’t come.

When she returned to the bedroom Killian was beneath the blankets again. He lifted them for her in a wordless offer that she accepted gratefully, snuggling into his arms and sighing against his shoulder.

He looked down at her and their eyes met, silently communicating what they couldn’t speak. Emma’s heart ached but Killian smiled, a sad smile but resolute.

“Go to sleep, love,” he said.

She nodded, snuggling closer, closed her eyes and quickly fell asleep.

She was awoken by the shrill ringing of a telephone, and by Killian shifting, reaching over her to open a drawer in her bedside table and withdraw the satellite phone.

“Hello,” he said, his voice rough. “Yes, you bloody did wake me, it’s—oh. Later than I thought… Aye, well I trust you have news to make it worth my while… Ah… Hmm… I see… Yes, thank you, I’ll tell her.”

He hung up the phone and looked at Emma, his eyes unreadable. “That was Graham. They’ve arrested Gold. It’s time for us to go home.”

–

@thisonesatellite @ohmightydevviepuu @kmomof4 @mariakov81 @katie-dub @spartanguard @darkcolinodonorgasm@courtorderedcake @squidvisious @cluttermind @teamhook @lfh1226-linda @shireness-says @stahlop

#cs fic #cs ff #cs ff au #captain swan #captain swan fic #smut #smut and feelings #a bit angsty #still sharing that bed #alone together #the bend of the arc #profdanglaisstuff

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xbellaxcarolinax · 5 years ago

Text

Forging A Heart (Ivar the Boneless) 15- York

Pairing: Ivar x Artemis (OFC)

Word Count: 3422

Warnings: Minor violence

14- Propositions

...

Crete was an island of fame in the Greek world.

It is said that Zeus, king of the gods, was conceived and raised there, on an obscure mountain, in an obscure cave. It is said that the fiercest warriors were bred there, fiercer than any Spartan or Athenian. It is said that Crete was the first Greek island that bore civilization in the Mediterranean. They were proud islanders, and yet, it had produced such a stupid woman.

The islands of gods and heroes, of myths and legends, could not have helped such a sorry soul. Such a pity, to have a woman named after a powerful goddess, only to be caught in the web of a heathen from of the North.

She was sure she'd never see her home again.

There was a strained silence despite all the noise they were surrounded by. When Ivar spares her a glance, she tenses at his expression.

"Surely you have an explanation for your actions, hm?" He grits out through clenched teeth.

"I-"

"I haven't given you permission to speak." He spits. Obviously displeased, his brows twitch in irritation and his pink lips were pulled back into a snarl like an angry dog.

"You gave me your word that you would not do this," His rage continued to build up behind his words, "I've given you privilege above all slaves, yet you attempt to betray me?" Artemis's face collided with the side of the chariot when they pass over a particular stone across the road. She groans, clutching her head to soothe the pain.

"You are foolish." She hears the last part of his mutterings, remaining silent as he kept on with his berating. As he steadly rambled on his grievances, Artemis buries a hand within her wild mane, hissing when she touches the tender spot on her scalp. There were traces of dried blood on her fingertips.

"Bjorn must have fed you such pretty little words, hm?" Ivar barks down at her, "You danced right into his grasp." She goes on staring at her stained fingertips, only coming back to focus when Ivar tugs at a strand of her hair.

"I'm talking to you, Artemis." He seethes.

"He offered to take me home." She says with fluttering eyes. Small dots danced across her vision.

"For a price, I'm sure."

"He needed a translator."

"So he gifts, only to take back." Ivar scoffs, worrying his lip out of habit.

"He said he wanted to right his wrongs." She repeats Bjorn's words sadly.

"You want your freedom. You want to go back to your little island. I understand," Ivar's tone was anything but understanding, yet he continued, "But it will be done when I say." She hears him without processing his words. Instead, she lays her head against the side of the chariot, her knees tucked under her chin. Her eyes began to flutter as sleep tried to claim her. She was far too tired and disoriented to fear whatever consequences she may face.

"Hey!" Ivar yells, pinching her cheek a few times, "Stay awake. You are no use to anyone dead." He jerks the chariot to a stop with a tight pull of the reigns, grabbing at her collar to secure her before she could meet the ground.

"Hvitserk!" Ivar barks, "Help her up. She needs to walk the sleep off, no thanks to you."

"You could not bare to live without her, could you Ivar?" Hvitserk jokes, quickly going over to help her up so that the procession may continue. Ivar doesn't grace his brother with an answer, keeping his eyes focused on the passing meadows and the road ahead.

Artemis stumbled into Hvitserk before catching her own footing.

"I hope I did not hurt you too bad." He tells her, waving his axe about by the blunt end. His lopsided grin sent a fury in her bones, and her hands balled into weak fists.

"You struck me?" It came out so much weaker than she intended it.

"I was only following Ivar's orders." He says with hands up in surrender, his smirk not faltering.

"Since when do you follow orders?" She mutters.

"Since I became the leader of our Great Army." Ivar reeks of confidence, his gloating words reaching Ubbe's ears. The older brother was silent up until that point.

"You mean we are the leaders, little brother. It is not you alone who commands the army." The look on Ubbe's tired face said it all. He was beyond annoyed, exhausted of the bickering between his brothers, and especially tired of Ivar.

"We shall see once we get to York." There was a smug look on Ivar's face that made her want to strike him.

And their journey continued.

They stopped along the way, a chance to relieve themselves and rest their horses. Artemis laid out on a patch of grass, fighting to keep her eyes open. She stares up at the passing clouds, the shy sun finally showing itself. The warmth felt nice, yet had her feeling empty. It wasn't the same heat of the sun that rose in the east.

"Artemis!" Ivar's voice was always so loud, enough to be heard over the wild chatter of the warriors, "I told you not to sleep! Come here!" He commands. She sighs, sitting up slowly before walking over to the chariot. Her eyes were unfocused, but not so much as before.

"If you sleep," He reminds her, "There is a chance you will not wake up." He offers her his waterskin, watching her drink before beckoning her forward.

"Are you not curious to know who disclosed your plan?"

"I have my suspicions."

Ivar chuckles. Whatever ounce of affection she had for the blacksmith was surely gone now.

Artemis searches for Arvid in the crowd of men, easily spotting him. She glares when he brings his eyes to hers and it took all her strength to not run over there and punch him. Ivar grabs her attention by tossing her the cloak again.

"We must keep moving. Hvitserk leads the army. Go walk with Ubbe." Putting on the cloak despite the warm air, she catches up to Ubbe. They walk in comfortable silence for a majority of the way, until he decides to speak.

"Ivar will not let you out of his sight." He comments, looking over his shoulder to see his little brother with his eyes trained on them.

"I am aware."

"I understand your reasons for attempting to flee. I have freed Margrathe so that she may have a better life, but perhaps the timing was not in your favor."

"It was the only chance I had." Ubbe gives her a sad smile.

"I know. But I consider you lucky."

"You would not be the first to say it."

"It seems the gods are having their fun with you."

"If there is any truth to that, then I pray they grow tired of me." He chuckles.

"If only it were that simple." He agrees, pushing the short pieces of his hair away from his face. "As fickle as Ivar is, he has grown a fondness for you. With Sigurd dead and Floki gone, I fear for him."

"I cannot mend his pride, nor his heart."

"And you cannot pretend that you haven't grown a fondness for him either," Ubbe counters with a shrug.

"Why should it matter?"

Ubbe looks up towards skies, watching the sun disappear behind the clouds before meeting the storm in her eyes with the calming waves of his own.

"Perhaps the gods have a plan for you."

...

There was no sun in York. Only gray skies and equally gray clouds, just like the rest of England.

Its walls were tall and its wooden gate massive, but one look at the perimeter as a whole, and one knew it was a city of prominence, but in most cases, good things come to an end, and surely this would be the end of York.

Artemis sits against the wall of the church, her hands pressed over her ears in a weak attempt to drown out the screams. She pants, her heart picking up speed and her eyes watered.

She curls tighter into herself, her cloak a useless barrier between a futile safe haven and the violence surrounding her. The stomping of the warriors grew louder as they pass. The screams were shrill, loud enough to wake the dead, suddenly cut short by a slash to the stomach or a hit to the skull.

Animals ran free, goats, sheep and chickens. Dogs barked in the distance, some searching for their owners, others feasting upon the bodies of the slain left to rot.

"You Christian's are all weak, even if you do not all look the same." Artemis lifts her head from her knees, glaring at the brown haired girl without a name. "You look stupid, cowering the way you do." The young shieldmaiden beside her joked, swinging a small axe in her hand with a taunting smile.

"You look stupid, watching over a slave when the real warriors fight." Artemis snarks back, and the girl immediately growls, lifting her axe as if to swing it.

"I told you to watch her, not kill her," Ivar interrupts, his bloodied hands gripping into the dirt, "But with the way you grip that axe, I doubt you would. Leave." The girl scurries off while Ivar plants himself at a decent distant away from Artemis.

"Do you want to die? Is that it?" He questions, fixing his legs. He rubs the dirt from his hands over the sides of his already dirty trousers, waiting for an answer. She doesn't reply, nor does she look at him.

"Do not mind her," Ivar sighs, "She's decent."

"You had her watching over me."

"As a precaution, you see. You are quite cunning." Whatever he was worried about her doing didn't matter anymore. She had no means of escape.

"Your expression is not at all pleasant." Ivar nudges her shoulder with the flat side of his axe and she flinches, turning to watch him wipe the blood from his face.

"We are not surrounded by pleasant things."

"Veikr," Ivar says with a roll of his eyes, "You cannot handle such things, baby bird." His anger seemed at bay for now. Keeping silent, she leans her head back against the wall, closing her eyes.

"Come now, I hate that look," He tells her, "It almost makes me feel quite terrible." Ivar sighs. He follows her lead, leaning his head against the wall. "You grieve these people." He states, his eyes scanning over the town. His army was still wreaking havoc.

"I do." She answers truthfully.

"Then do what you must and...what is it that you Christian's do? Pray for their souls?" They both turn to look at each other, their eyes intensely fighting a silent war.

"Why did you leave?" He finally whispers. She could have sworn there was a sadness in his tone.

"It was an opportunity I could not refuse." She answers just as quietly, dragging a finger to draw circles into the damp earth.

"That was not your decision to make." Ivar grunts.

"I realize that now." He expected her to sound bitter, but all his ears picked up was exhuastion. They sat in silence after that, comfortably quiet in each other's company.

"I am still angry with you." Ivar begins.

"I know."

"And you do not deserve my forgiveness." He pouts in the most childish way, banishing all seriousness with that one look. "But perhaps you can earn it," She looks at him curiously, waiting for him to continue.

"Get familiar with the forge," He says, "I have a special task I want you to complete."

...

Ivar declared his plan quite vividly: he wanted legs of iron.

He wanted a contraption that would help him navigate on his legs. He was tired of being pathetic, having to drag his legs along with the strength of his arms.

The process began immediately with the measurements of Ivar's frail legs. It was a challenge. He would flinch, getting upset whenever her small hands would graze the fabric of his trousers. She was not inflicting pain, but he was incredibly nervous, as the only outsider that gazed at his malformed limbs was Margrethe. Artemis made him immensely uncomfortable, but she was infuriatingly patient, as if she'd done this many times before.

It was only until Ivar finally loosened his pride and felt comfortable did she take the measuring rod to probe and record the length and width of his thighs and calves. The measurements were quite small.

Having her kneel before him in such a state gave him an odd pleasure. She was in such concentration, so absorbed in her work that he was sure nothing could distract her, not even their close proximity.

He wanted so much to reach out and touch her face, to feel how smooth her skin felt under his calloused fingers. He refrains from doing so, silently cursing his dilemma to the gods if they'd hear him.

He should be furious with her, and he was...at first. He couldn't explain why or how, but he knew he was growing a certain affection for her. It was strange.

And she was just as angry with him as he had been with her. Ivar knew her decision was rational, who wouldn't escape back home if given the chance? Ivar wasn't stupid, but he was selfish, and Artemis was his property by northern law.

He knew Arvid only warned him of her plans for his own selfish desire of her, but Ivar was grateful nonetheless, because he only realised at the point that he wanted her with him, maybe even needed her, and perhaps, in the very back of his mind, that is why he had not considered freeing her. She would leave as soon as she was given chance.

He didn't want that. He was indeed selfish.

So he feigned anger and annoyance with her becuase it was easy for him. The growing affection he felt towards her was foreign, but the anger was familiar, and that was what he reflected.

Her anger would pass with the winds as his anger slowly did, he knew. For now, he would continue on as is and enjoy in the conquering of his new city. Once his iron legs are complete, he would be a man.

...

Fighting was inevitable, as King Ecbert's son, Athelwulf, who was now king, attacked York with his 2 sons and an army. They posed a great threat at first, for they were formidable fighters, but Ivar was always a step ahead of them. The crippled bastard had a natural talent for strategies and seemed to be far more superior in matters of war than Ubbe and Hvitserk. The men began to look at the youngest for direction.

The menial task that she was once spared of were given to her once more, added on top of her forging duties.

It was punishment for her failed escape, but she didn't mind it. It stimulated her mind, and kept her distracted. She occasionally prepared baths for Ivar, a task he never dared to give her until recently.

That is when she would hear him talk.

He would talk of his future plans, often pulling out an image of York's settlement drawn out on old parchment found within the churches archives. There were a system of underground passage ways from the days of Roman occupation, and Ivar intended to use them in case of attack. He was right of course, but he rarely revealed his plans to his brothers, causing much tension them. But as expected, Ivar did not care much for their opinions.

The Saxon's wished to take back their Christian city, but failed in the attempt, ultimately retreating. The rain beat on them fiercely, much like it always did since they arrived to England.

Artemis had never seen the likes of war. In fact, she was innocent towards violence for most of her young life, until she faced Bjorn and his men almost a year prior. She watched from the cracks within the walls of the forgery, men slaughtered on both sides, swords and axes clashing in a dance to the death. Swords and axes she herself had welded and repaired.

Alfhild was with her, as well as other women who did not part take in the battle. Alfhild began to worry, staring through the cracks as best she could while biting her already short nails, pulling at her yellow hair. Arvid was nowhere in sight, lost among the sea of men. He was an excellent warrior as most men of Kattegat were, and Artemis reminded Alfhild of this.

She didn't know why, but she prayed. She prayed for her own safety, and the safety of the women. Despite what he'd done, she prayed for Arvid, wishing him no harm. She even prayed for Ivar, wondering if he was among the dead. She told herself it was more for her own protection than for genuine worry, but that might have been a lie.

Ivar was last seen on his chariot charging through the crowd, but he disappeared after that, and for all she knew, dead.

Hvitserk fought well, talented in the skills of a warrior, cutting down any man that came his way. Ubbe held an air of command, his rope like hair plastering on his face with every swing of his bloody sword. The fighting raged on when suddenly she heard a mighty scream that seemed to stop the world in its track.

"You cannot kill me! I am Ivar the Boneless!"

Well, he was definitely not dead.

...

Artemis knelt over the small stairway that led to the makeshift throne. She was made to wash the steps, suds of soap floating about in the air. Some of the men watched her, causing her great discomfort, but they knew better than to do much more than look. When Ivar appeared, they scattered like rats in daylight.

"Why must you mope about, hmm? You should rejoice in our victory," Ivar calls out to her from the doorway, his voice bouncing off the church walls. The men cheered for their leader, filling him with immense pride for their success against the Saxon's.

Artemis looks to him after realizing he was speaking to her. The darkness in the church made him appear as nothing more than a shadow. A standing shadow.

"I've no reason to celebrate." She responds, dipping the brush into the soapy water, continuing her relentless scrubbing over the stone floor.

"Of course there is! I have defeated the army of Wessex!" The scraping of iron against the stone floor catches her attention.

Ivar was finally wearing his iron braces. He looked so much more confident, the missing piece of himself he'd been wanting his whole life. Being around him now for some time, she recognized the pain he was in, though he did well to mask it. Even with his iron braces he still suffered from aches and pains, even more so now than before, but it wasn't enough to deter him from his new image.

She assumed Ivar would be tall, but he seemed massive, as tall as a tree, walking with the aid of the crutch she made for him. He takes cautious steps, being careful not to make any sudden movements that would imbalance him. He looked so childlike, so proud of himself, and it almost brought a smile to her lips.

She too felt pride. She had never created something of the sort before, and the iron braces were no easy task. She had worked on it for days, and like her other tasks, it helped to alleviate her mind. Hammer against iron was always a welcomed distraction.

There were warriors the trailed behind him, holding onto a rough looking man bound in chains. The man was dirty from battle, covered from head to toe in dirt, blood smeared across his face and over his leather armor. His dark hair was cropped messily, and his eyes were a calculating blue.

Ivar motions for her to stand, snd she complies, wiping her hands down before facing him. He smirks, finally satisfied to be looking down at her instead of the other way around.

"Meet the new prisoner." Ivar says, pointing at the man,"Come now, we do not bite." He beckons the man in the Saxon tongue, laughing when one of his warriors pushes him forward.

"This is Bishop Heahmund."

...

@heavenly1927 @didiintheblog @rastakami23

#vikings #ivar #ivar imagine #ivarfanfiction #ivarxofc #vikings ivar #hvitserk #alex hogh andersen #ubbe #ivar the boneless

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vesperlionheart · 4 years ago

Text

Lady of the Blackthorn Trees 2

Part 2 of this magical SasoSaku for @frostmarris

Life at the tower was a guilty paradise for Sasori for the next four years. He had been given his own quarters with a privet study and personal, yet empty, library that she allowed him to fill up as the weeks and months rolled by.

With his personal allowance she took him to the far reaches of the continent and showed him the best stalls and shops to browse through. He trained with her once a week in magic, and then on a different day of the week he studied history, art, and literature with Sakura.

The rest of the week she was called away on the business of seeing to the needs of the world, or isolating herself in the celestial observatory.

At first their meetings had been strictly reserved for those two days and evening dinners, but after the first year Sasori began to find ways where he could insert himself into her work or study. She noticed and teased him for his efforts but didn’t rebuke him for them.

On days when he was left alone with the unseen servants he felt more like a pet, but anytime he had the opportunity to speak with Sakura or be in front of her, all feelings of inferiority left him. Or maybe they didn’t leave him, but they turned reasonable. He had so much to learn from her even though he still would never understand why she bothered with him in the first place.

He found her one day, lost in thoughts and wandering aimlessly through the halls of the main library. He thought maybe she would appreciate the solitude but before he could help himself he called out to her.

Sakura turned and smiled softly. “Sasori, what can I help you with?”

“I was wondering if I could help you.”

Her eyes sparkled with something close to mischief but she sounded as cordial as ever when she replied. “I am quite alright. I don’t want you being concerned for my sake.”

Sasori wrinkled his nose and crossed his arms. “You sound like one of those stuffy court politicians. What’s the matter with you today?”

“I’m feeling like a stuffy court politician,” she said.

“That’s terrible,” Sasori sighed in fake empathy. “No one would want to hang around you like that.”

“So what are you doing here?”

“Looking for the woman this stuffy court political replaced, obviously,” Sasori shot back. He raised a single brow in an unimpressed expression to match his monotone.

When she smiled Sasori could tell she was tired but the heaviness was far less than what it once was. “I heard she took a vacation. Might I be of some assistance in her absence?”

Sasori produced his spell book from the straps under his arm and waved it before flipping through to one of the most recent pages where the ink was finally dry. “I was transcribing a spell and I don’t like how it came out. What did I do wrong?”

“Oh no, one of those questions,” Sakura sighed even as she approached his spell book to look it over. “You always have to make things so complicated.”

“I did the transcription perfectly.”

Sakura rolled her eyes and took the book with her to a nearby table. “Yes, yes, I have no doubt you were the perfect copy machine, but the spell you were copying over fit the original spell caster and suited their natural style. You are not the original spell caster so you need to make allotments in the transcription for where you deviate from the author.”

Sasori secretly delighted in how impassioned Sakura could become with the right sort of question. She could talk for hours about her favorite authors and spell writers and how they were under appreciated in their field until after their death. It was probably his favorite bad habit, setting her off onto tangents.

“You’re looking far too smug for someone who didn’t even omit the core natural element clause, Sasori.”

“You’re supposed to keep that the same when transferring.”

“Only with like minded spell workers. You’re not a sorcerer like me, you need to make allowances for how your body handles magic otherwise you’ll blow both your hands off at the wrists. You think I want to have to make you a pair of pretty silver hands, huh?” she teased.

Sasori just chuckled in response and Sakura’s lips puckered in something close to a pout. “Why are you laughing at me?”

“You don’t sound like a court politician anymore,” he explained. “Now you’re just a nagging teacher.”

Sakura rolled her eyes and waved her hand over her shoulder. “Excuse me for looking out for your best interests. What do you expect when you show up with such shoddy work? Put this away, I’m taking you to the grove for lessons.”

In spite of himself, Sasori perked up at the mention. “It’s only the third day of the week.”

“Yes, but you’re hopeless and I’m in need of a good distraction,” Sakura said, tone flippant.

Sasori wondered if there was any particular reason for her earlier despondency, but felt comfortable letting it go if she was willing to spend time with him in her grove. He wasn’t about to complain about the extra attention.

One of the invisible servants appeared at the door to the balcony, offering Sakura a pair of heels to change into. Sakura stepped out of her slippers and reached for the shoes already inscribed with world walking spells painted down their undersides.

Sasori reached before the servant could and knelt next to her side with one of the shoes already in hand. He took her heel and slid the first shoe on while Sakura balanced a single hand on his shoulder. When he helped her with the second shoe he almost didn’t let go, but realized himself before she could notice his absentmindedness.

“I should inscribe a pair for you too,” Sakura admitted as he stood.

“You want to gift me a pair of heels?” he teased in a flat monotone to contradict the excitement in his heart from being so close and intimate.

“Absolutely,” Sakura joked. “I think it would do wonders for your ass.”

Sasori snickered but offered his arm for her to take. When Sakura took her first step there was a familiar click from her heels on the marble before magic began to ripple around them. The scenery melted like a water painting in the rain but Sakura led Sasori straight through the mess and through a fluttering of dragonfly wings before the world became solid once more. There was no more click or clacking sound as her heels touched down on the grass, but there was still an unnaturalness to the way she walked perfectly on an imperfect surface.

“How long did the enchantment on your shoes take you?” Sasori asked as the last of his nausea abated.

“A decade, but I was less fastidious about the design. My master had a pair she worked on for twenty five years. Those boots could take her across oceans even if she never had visited the place before,” Sakura explained.

“I think your heels are plenty impressive, but I’ll be sure to discover some less dizzying way to migrate long distances,” he begrudgingly admitted.

“Careful, you’ve been too kind with your complements recently. You wouldn’t want me to start suspecting you to be sweet on me, would you?” Sakura teased with a coy expression before pulling out of Sasori’s hold to walk ahead of him.

In front of them was a grove of dead and ugly looking trees, all helplessly barren with more thorns than life. As Sakura approached the trees, they started to pull themselves up, stretching taller and farther than any blackthorn tree had a right to be before their branches began to tremble with new buds. The potential of life was back in their bark but nothing would bloom unless Sakura let it.

The grove was her favorite place to practice magic safely, as the trees had been a gift from her previous master. They were old, dead things but each responded to her magic whenever a spell was preformed correctly. When Sakura did her work the whole field would be a snowstorm of white blossoms and petals. It was also a fair practice spot for Sasori to go to when he was having trouble with his spells. If he was using an insufficient magical output the trees would clue him in with their reactions.

Sasori noticed how the buds remained and frowned at the overall health of the trees. Normally Sakura left them barren until explicitly using a spell, but it seemed as if she was leaking magic… was that on purpose?

“What are you doing?” she yelled back, already far ahead of where he stood.

“That should be my question to you,” Sasori yelled back, pretending to sound annoyed. “Why are you already cheating?”

“It’s been a shitty morning, don’t belittle me for a few harmless pleasures,” she shot back with a dramatic roll of her eyes. “Hurry up or I’ll leave you behind.”

“No you won’t.”

“Don’t talk back to me!”

Sasori did his best to hide his smirk but he was afraid she could hear it in his words whenever he talked. For as amazingly powerful a sorceress she was, it was painfully easy to rile her up. It was in such moment she showed what Sasori considered her true age. Maybe she was decades ahead of him, but sometimes it felt like he had seen more of the world and lived on it longer.

Hours later the pair reclined on a borrowed blanket set underneath the flowering blackthorn trees, content to watch the petals fall like snow as the magic drained out of the trees. Considering how long and hard he had practiced, he assumed it would be hours before the land was dry and barren again.

“More of our lessons should be outdoors,” he said over tea.

Sakura hummed along, looking as if she was flirting with the idea of a nap. He reached over and took the tea dish from her fingers and set it aside, out of the way. She didn’t protest and didn’t even bother to react when Sasori scooted closer.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Sakura blinked but answered after a pause. “You’re so entitled. What makes you think you get to hear about my problems?”

“Who else do you take to your sacred grove?”

She giggled. “It’s not sacred. I told you I’m not a god.”

“You’re more than just a sorceress though, aren’t you?”

Sakura’s eyes had all but closed until Sasori spoke. Slowly, she raised her head and stared in his direction. “What would lead you to make such a bold accusation?”

“You’re too powerful to be a sorceress.”

Sakura hummed thoughtfully, searching his face before leaning back and smirking. “Then consider this a time for lessons, boy, tell me what you know of sorceresses and witches. Tell me the truth between wizards and warlocks, the fae and the mage.”

“The difference is in where one draws their power. Witches take magic from the earth and the natural world and are considered the most basic of magic practitioners due to their inability to carry magic in their own body. Not much different are those who strike pacts to obtain magic, like those in the warlock profession. Divine clerics and priest do this with their gods but they like to distinguish themselves from the lot of magic users by claiming their patrons are divine.”

“As if that makes them any different than us,” Sakura giggled. “What else?”

“Some are born with magic already in them and learn to use or harness such a magic through various means. In this regard both the sorceress and the wizard are similar.”

“How is a wizard different from a spellbinder then?” Sakura interrupted, leaning forward with a knowing glint to her eyes.

Sasori swallowed and thought over his words carefully before speaking. “Wizards memorize spells to harness their powers and are limited by how much their medium can withstand in a given period of time. That is why they would use wands, rods, or even staves to channel their magic through as well as spell components, like ingredients,” Sasori said.

As if to demonstrate Sakura reached up and broke off a dry branch of one of the blackthorn trees. She turned around with the withered thing in hand and shook it once before her magic made it bloom with a flourish of petite white blossoms. From the point golden magic flowed, dropping to the ground and transforming into a pool of water.

“And you have no such item, so tell me now the reason for it,” Sakura said. She threw the thriving branch behind her shoulder and rejoined Sasori on the picnic blanket. When she sat her skirts flared out around her and sparked with the beaded designs. She looked as if she was clothed in millions of dragon fly wings.

“I am not a wizard. I need no components and I carry no wand, but I do have a medium.”

Sakura smirked and held up two fingers.

“Ah, I meant I do have two mediums,” he said.

“I should know, I bound both of them for you,” Sakura said.

“And I’m thankful to you for that, so quit mentioning it every time you can,” Sasori sighed, feeling his ears heat when she looked at him.

“Continue with our lesson, Sasori.”

He closed his eyes and forced his spirit to ground itself and his heart to quit its trembling. It had been years but he still fluttered at the sound of her voice uttering his name. He doubted he would ever grow used to the way she made him feel.

“I am a spellbinder because I bind spells into my book and execute them thusly. A spell I have successfully transcribed can be read back for its magic effect or burned for silent casting.” He hesitated, watching her carefully. “Or it can-”

“Those are the only two ways I recognize,” she interrupted. When she looked up at him through her lashes it was in warning.

Sasori nodded slowly and silently agreed, deeming it unwise to go against her teachings. It didn’t matter that blood casting was far more efficient than burning or reading, the cost was too great and Sakura refused to let his spells taste his blood for any reason.

“If one is born a sorceress,” Sasori began, earning her attention back, “it is due to the fact that such a child came into the world through unnatural means or supernatural means, and thus was blessed with their own pool of personal magic. They need no spells written or whispered, but are considered to be the most effect of magic users apart from the singular drawback of their magic pools.”

Sakura laughed. “True, most sorcerers can’t enchant a single shoe on their own.”

Sasori slowly nodded. “My teacher is truly extraordinary to have such perfect magical control and such deep wells.”

Sakura giggled. “You won’t get anywhere with me if you try to flatter this old woman, but I like you enough on your own that maybe one day I’ll tell you my secrets…one day.”

“You have secrets?” Sasori teased back.

“Every lady does.”

Sasori rolled his eyes and played at being disinterested. “I’m not sure I want to know about those types of secrets. Ladies are better left a mystery, thank you.”

“Sexist log. Don’t be such a garden variety vegetable about it.”

Sasori ended up sputtering at her weak insults and that only provoked her further. She was sitting up, ready to chastise him when the magic in the field snapped taunt and they both turned like mirrored versions of each other, to face the center of the field where something was trying to emerge.

“What is it?” Sasori asked first. He was already on his feet and had slipped one of the books out from its holder under his arms.

“No, wait. I recognize this magic. Let it pass, it’s only a summons spell.” Sakura waved her hand in the air and yielded her protective magic. Like a popped balloon, the furry animal tumbled to the grass and shuffled around a bit before noticing Sakura and Sasori. The fox bound over and stopped at her feet, turning to show off a letter tied to his back.

“There were more efficient ways of reaching you, I’m sure,” Sasori huffed in complaint. He didn’t put his spell book away.

Sakura read the missive and sighed, burning it up before standing. The fox deflated and became a construct of raw and tangled magic before the breeze blew it’s remains away.

“We should hurry back. I need to pack up before my escort arrives.” Sakura forced herself to smile. “I’m not trusted to arrive at the council without one.”

The idea of Sakura being manhandled into a meeting or position she wasn’t in favor of didn’t sit well with Sasori. “I could kill them if you wanted. We could say they never arrived.” He offered her his arm to take as he finally pocketed his spell book.

“The offer is tempting but would ultimately lead to more noise than I’m willing to put up with.”

Sasori inclined his head as the world around them began to melt with the transportation magic. “A stiff drink for the road then?”

“Yes, please.”

When they arrived back at the tower in the library, they were stepping through the doors that led to the outside balcony. The doorway folded itself up after their arrival, transforming into a nondescript stone wall that was indistinguishable from all others.

If Sakura wanted to, she would have little trouble turning her home into a prison for Sasori. It would be near inescapable with the endless levels and far reaching staircases, not to mention the unfolding windows and doors that shifted position based on Sakura’s will. The tower had been grown out of her magic and was basically an extension of her being, as many magic towers were for prominent wizards and magic workers.

“How much time do you have before your guest arrives?” Sasori asked.

“Not enough.” Sakura paused to consider his question and tapped her nose while thinking. “But maybe an hour if he’s fast. Don’t feel like you have to interact with him. If possible I’d prefer the pair of you not interact as it would only lead to more exhaustive questions.”

“Why? Is my presence taboo?”

“No, but my tutelage is.” Sakura grinned mischievously. “So please don’t tell them I’m teaching you anything. If it comes down to it, say you’re a visiting friend.”

After four years this was the first time Sasori had to be deceptive with one of Sakura’s guests. True, it was rare anyone made it to her tower, and the most interaction he had with other humans was when he went shopping, but his studies had never been called taboo.

“Is it alright if they know I’m a spell caster?” he asked.

“That was something your family began in you, I only furthered your studies, so no, you don’t have to hide that you know magic. But please keep the fact that I’ve aided you as much as I have a secret. If you were without magic until me it really would be illegal.”

Sasori made a face. “That sounds… seditious.”

Sakura shrugged. “I liked the peace of not having a wizard or adventuring party showing up on my doorstep every month, trying to kill me because they thought I was evil for being an unregistered agent. There wasn’t any real danger to it, but I got bored and tired, so this is the compromise. I follow some shitty rules and they leave me alone. ”

“I can still kill someone for you. That offer is still on the table if you need it.”

“Death is easy, Sasori,” Sakura said, touching his face with both hands. “Dealing the the endless cycle of it isn’t, and I don’t have the heart to break the wheel before it starts spinning.”

The quote made Sasori remember something they had both read and discusses one night over wine and cheese. The cycle of revenge and how it always continued to spin, how an eye for an eye left the whole world blind. How was one to escape such a vicious cycle other than opt out of it when it was their turn to deal violence?

In a rare moment of darkness Sakura laughed at his naïvety and drained the rest of the wine. ‘Don’t stop at an eye. If someone took from me I wouldn’t leave them with eyes, hands, or teeth. When wronged, the one who survives need not turn the wheel on its endless cycle, but instead shatter it without mercy. I do not work in half measures, and if I truly was so wronged, there would be no one left to continue the cycle of violence.’

Sasori had never forgotten her cruelty of effectiveness from the first night they met, and he never would. The monstress beauty she was in the firelight haunted his dreams years later, but there was nothing in him that could complain against it. He had never seen anything more beautiful.

Yet he knew, after so many years, Sakura was not easily moved to such anger. Her displays of wrath were rare and hard won by the worst of the worst.

“I ned to pack,” Sakura said simply before retreating for her rooms.

Left on his own, Sasori busied himself in pestering the library’s speaking tomes for any information they had on visitors to the tower. One of the books admitted it was probably another wizard and that, depending on the kingdom, it could be any number of intellectual equals.

Another book listed a number of prominent magic users in the neighboring lands and Sasori grew more and more irked as he saw their likenesses painted in ink across the pages. Too many mages liked to keep themselves younger looking than they had any right to. Sakura looked plenty young too, but it wasn’t something she was active about maintaining, but rather a side effect of the reservation and health magic she possessed.

The first hour came and went without word of a visitor, but then the clockwork birds that roosted in the upper levels of the tower showed him what they had spotted, approaching from the north. Indeed there was a young, handsome looking mage on wyvern.

Sasori didn’t think twice but threw off his normal wear and changed into a loose, open front nightshirt and the form fitting black riding pants he used while practice fighting in the tower’s gym. If he could look more like a gigolo it would have to come out in his acting. At least his hair was a mess.

He heard voices and knew Sakura must have greeted her guest in one of the main halls. It was easy enough to find, no matter how confusing the tower could become on its own.

“Are you sure you have everything you need?” a male voice inquired.

“You should know by now I’m more than proficient in sealing and spatial magics. All I need is this,” Sakura replied waving a hand in the air where her bracelet sparkled with extra beads.

Sasori emerged at this moment, rubbing at his face with the palm of his hand and faking sleepiness. The exaggerated yawn caused Sakura to turn and her reaction was priceless.

“Are you leaving already?” he asked, ignoring the dark haired mage who looked just as gobsmacked.

“Sasori?” Sakura squeaked.

He smiled at her guest and it was the fakest he had ever felt. “I didn’t know you were gonna have visitors.”

“I…you didn’t mention having a house guest,” the other male laughed. “I hate to think I’m intruding.”

“No, it’s fine Itachi,” Sakura said, still looking confused and alarmed at her student. “I-Sasori, what are you doing?”

“Seeing you off,” Sasori replied, sounding sweeter than fake sugar. “You said you’d be gone for a while so I wanted to say goodbye. Who is your escort?”

“A court mage from the Konohagakure empire, Itachi Uchiha,” the stranger answered, sweeping a had up to make into a fist above his shoulder. His robes were well cut and draped over only one half of his body, leaving the other side exposed to the more form fitting black shirt and riding pants, not dissimilar to the ones Sasori wore to look whorish.

“And you are?” Itachi asked.

“Just a friend Sakura invited in, no one important.”

Itachi tilted his chin up and narrowed his eyes. “A friend from the Golden Desert? You must have come a long way.”

“Longer than most.”

Sasori smirked and Itachi’s dark black eyes narrowed and flared with simmering magic. Sasori could smell the pyromaniac stench to it as the Uchiha’s magic made his eyes flash red. Between the two of them, Sasori thought his chances were pretty good if they had to go toe to toe. He had come a long way since the first day Sakura picked him up, and now he was able to do things his cousins could only dream of.

“How long are you staying on our continent?” Itachi asked, phrasing his words carefully as he never once looked away from Sasori.

“As long as I’m useful,” Sasori answered through a rakish grin that had Sakura groaning silently in the background.

“It’s not-you know what, never mind. I’m ready to go,” Sakura interjected.

Sasori slouched against the wall and blew a dramatic goodby kiss as Sakura started to head out. “Come back safe,” he called.

“Go fuck yourself!” she shouted without looking back.

Sasori felt his shoulders jump with true delight at her words. He wanted to bend over laughing but he stifled it all for a smooth chuckle before shouting back, “I’d rather leave that to you.”

Itachi glared but turned to follow Sakura out before pausing on the threshold to the outside. “Sasori, was it?” Itachi asked. “It might be in your best interest to return home as soon as possible. Sakura is far too kind to say it to your face, but people from your continent aren’t thought of highly here. You do her a disservice by intruding on her hospitality.”

“Nah, I enjoy being alive much better when I’m here,” Sasori answered back honestly. Truly, before he met her Sasori had only been waiting to die and was a pessimistic attitude about anything that happened to anyone. Before Sakura, Sasori hadn’t liked the person he was.

Itachi glared once before turning sharply on his heel and following Sakura out. Sasori watched from a nearby window as Itachi caught up to Sakura and helped her onto the back of his wyvern before following her into the saddle. Sasori glared at how close Itachi insisted on being and knew he had done the right thing to suss out the assholes who thought they knew Sakura better.

“He wasn’t even that pretty.”

Sasori grumbled to himself before passing out face first in his bed, resolved to wait until Sakura came back as patiently as he could.

When Sakura found him a week later, he was on his back under the massive telescope she had fixed atop the mounted platform in the observatory.

“And here I thought you’d greet me as soon as I returned,” Sakura teased, stepping into the room. When Sasori didn’t reply she approached his body and laughed at his sleeping face. “You’re lucky I like you, otherwise I never would have forgiven you for such a stunt.”

“Does that mean you’ll take me shopping?”

Sakura startled and then laughed as Sasori cracked open a single eye. Before she could stop him she felt his arms around the small of her back tugging her forward. She braced against the ground, one hand on either sided of his skull as she propped herself up. That’s when she smelled the wine.

“Have you been drinking?” she gasped.

“Maybe. It’s lonely without you here. What else did you think I’d do?”

“Study.”

Sasori shook his head. “Not fun on my own.”

“I leave you alone three fourths of the time, how was this any different?” she asked.

“You were somewhere I couldn’t reach.” Sasori closed his eyes and sighed deeply, looking like he’d drift back off to sleep. “Stay with me?”

“Sasori, you’re drunk.”

“I’m lonely,” he corrected.

“Fine, lonely and drunk, but still drunk. Get to bed.”

Sasori tightened his arms around her waist and tried to pull her closer but Sakura was strong so she didn’t budge. “Carry me,” Sasori demanded, slurring his words almost.

It was an unreasonable demand, but he was drunk so Sakura braced and heaved Sasori back, picking him up into her arms and turning him around so she cradled him like a bride with his head resting against her shoulder.

“You weight as much as an ox,” Sakura complained as she carried him down the stairs under the telescope.

“You deserve it, you were gone so long.”

“It was a week you big baby.” Sakura huffed loudly and lifted him higher in her arms before exiting the room and making for the hall. With her passive magic she manipulated the hallways to shorten and contort for her, turning the long walk short.

Sasori reached out and hooked one hand over her shoulder, hanging on as she kept him in her arms. With him close she could smell the soap as well as the wine.

“What are you going to be like if you ever decide to leave? You’re hopeless.”

The arm around her shoulder tightened. “I’m not leaving you.”

“You know, one day you’re going to be strong enough to fight off whoever it was who drove you out of your homeland and then you’re gonna wanna head home,” Sakura said. “They always do.”

“Not me,”Sasori insisted, rising his volume in anger.

“You say that now,” Sakura snorted, pausing to kick his door open. “But don’t sell yourself so short. There’s a lot more to life than this damn tower.”

“Yeah and it all sucks,” Sasori snapped.

“What about your family?”

“They’re only safe if I stay away. I go back…we’re all toast.” Sasori inhaled sharply and then dropped his head back onto her shoulder. “They wanted me to live and I was never worth it.”

Sakura hesitated on the threshold but then pushed in, turning so Sasori would fit through the door. She carried him over to his bed and set him down under the rumpled covers, taking care to pull off his shoes before tucking his feet under the blankets. He pawed at the mattress, turning around only to be pushed back against the pillows by Sakura.

“You need to sleep this off. Getting sloshed while I was out wasn’t a smart idea.”

“You’re a smart idea.”

Sakura snickered, almost choking on the laugh that came so naturally. Sasori was a lot more fun to take in as a student than she first anticipated. He had been moody and dark in the early weeks, but that melted away soon enough.

“I’m going to leave some water and medicine on the nightstand for you,” Sakura said.

When she moved to stand Sasori grabbed at her wrist and she stopped. “Don’t go.”

“I’m not leaving the tower.”

Sasori blinked, eyes unfocused and bleary. “Sometimes you go to that place and it always hurts you, but you shouldn’t go, even if you’re safe in the tower.”

“Someone isn’t making sense,” Sakura teased. When she tried to pull away he reached with his other hand to stop her from rising. “Sasori, I’m going to get upset.”

“Why don’t you age?” he asked. “It’s not that you’re long lived, there is no aging in your body. Why are you so powerful with so much magic when you should have been born with a fraction of what you wield?”

Sakura gave up and sat back down. “You’re drunk, but you’re honest I guess. You want to know all my lady secrets, don’t you?”

“It’s still hurting you.”

“It’s not hurting me. What I did with that power haunts me, there’s a difference.”

“I want to live forever with you,” Sasori whispered, sounding as if his voice was meant for only secrets. “Please.”

“I won’t live forever, I’m not a god.”

“You have the power of one.”

Sakura brushed aside his longer red bangs and kissed at his forehead, inhaling his soapy scent. “I don’t know why I like you enough to admit this, but you’re drunk so you likely won’t remember it in the morning.”

Sakura reached out and a cup rolled itself up onto the nightstand and a pair of tablets unfolded themselves out of space. The cup began to fill with water enchanted to stay fresh for hours. Sasori didn’t look away from Sakura until after she was finished summoning the things his hungover ass would need in the morning.

“You’re astute to have noticed after only four years. The only others who have suspected have been those who’ve known me for decades and my closest associates, but yes, I age too slowly to be considered aged. At this rate it will be thousands of years before I see my first wrinkle. My teacher was the same way.”

“Sakura…”

She brushed the hair out of his eyes and stared too long at the shape of his face. It was a handsome face, one she found herself thinking of when it wasn’t in front of her.

“When I was seventeen she took me to the barren wastes and we hiked for a day and a night to the site of a great but forgotten battle. The carcass of a other-world god was still there, frozen in time and ice. I was strong and had perfect control, but like you said, I had too little magic for my ambitions.”

Sasori tried whispering her name again but his eyes were so heavy they could barely stay open.

“I ate the flesh of that god until my body couldn’t hold any more. I haven’t considered myself human since then,” Sakura quietly confessed, staring down at his face as it watched her.

“Please kiss me,” he whispered on the edge of sleep.

“You’re drunk.”

“I’m honest.” He reached for her but only caught her hair, and his fingers slipped through. “Please.”

He was drunk and didn’t know what he wanted, so it was wrong of her, so wrong, but Sakura indulged his request like a mother would, with a soft kiss against his forehead and a wish goodnight.

Sasori touched the spot and almost complained, but by the time Sakura was in the doorway, he was already fast asleep.

#SasoSaku #my writing #Sakura #Sasori #Sakura Haruno #BAMF Sakura #part 2 #no beta we die like men

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capricornus-rex · 4 years ago

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A Shadow of What You Used to Be (8)

Chapter 8: Ensnared | Cal Kestis x Irele Skywalker

Summary: There is another! Years after young Anakin Skywalker departed Tatooine, his mother Shmi delivers a second child—this time, a daughter. Whilst the circumstance of the girl’s birth remains unexplained, Irele Skywalker has yet to choose the true path between those laid out for her.

Tags: Fem! OC, Irele Skywalker, Force-sensitive! OC, Anakin’s Younger Sister, Skywalker! OC, Darth Vader’s Secret Apprentice, Long-lost Sibling

A/N: Hi guys, I’m happy that you’re enjoying the story so far! But I have to let you know that I’ll be in a quick pause from publishing chapters for a while because I have to drop off my laptop in the shop again to have my new SSD put in (because I don’t know how to do it myself). They said it might take five working days, but that will still depend on my place in line. So this might be the last chapter for now, but I hope I get this baby back soon!

Requesting to be tagged: @heavenly1927

Also in AO3

Chapters: Prelude – 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 | Previous: Part 7 | Next: Part 9 | Masterlist

9 of ?

“Hey, Irele, I got a job for us!” the Twi’lek boy, Frelik, panted as he supported himself on the arch of their door, as if he came sprinting from the town to their house in the salt flats.

“For who? Where? When!?” Irele bombarded back, and luckily Frelik answered all questions.

Irele looked over his shoulder, he had reached her house using the sand skimmer that all five of them worked together on. She told them to wait, hurried back inside, jumping to the floor from the first landing of the stairs to the rotunda and sprinted to her bedroom. She was all over the place—flashing from one side of the room to the other, swiping her pack with her tools and her scarf lying in different spots.

“I’m going out!” she announced in a voice loud enough for Owen and Beru to hear, wherever they were, and there was no time for either husband or wife to respond. They just heard the door whiz open and then shut.

Another wrangling job with her friends. It was a normal day, but it was something she enjoyed.

They’ve traveled about ten miles east of Mos Espa. The skimmer did its job, it resembles perhaps a smaller rendition of the complementary hovercraft that comes with a sail barge. Through his binoculars, Frelik spotted a cluster of brown speckles in the sand—a Bantha herd, he had found. Their quarry.

“Drello, full speed ahead!” cried out the tan-skinned Twi’lek to the human male. The boy cranked the lever of the motor and they pulled forward.

They stopped their skimmer in a safe distance, atop a small hill that overlooks the Banthas gathered around a watering hole—a rare sight in this planet. After peering through the lens, Frelik handed the binoculars to no one in particular, Irele took it out of his hands.

“Those aren’t domesticated, alright,” she panned slightly to her right. “We can slide our way down there. We’ll have enough cover so they won’t be startled by us.”

Before they got themselves on the move, Irele scanned the area for any signs of Tusken Raiders. It was not uncommon to have a run-in with Tuskens who were also trying to wrangle up mounts for their numbers; should that happen, the most logical—and only—move is to try your luck for another herd. A group of adult Tuskens versus a small band of children are in no good odds whatsoever.

“We’re clear. We’re the only ones here,” she reassured then returned the binoculars to Frelik. They sprinted back to the skimmer to retrieve their sleds and boards.

“I’m gonna ruin your win streak today, Irele!” prided Drello.

She clapped back after pulling her goggles down and smirked, “We’ll see about that!”

The children ran to the edge of the slope, the Twi’lek siblings shared a sled, Heeda—the other human female besides Irele—had her own sled that can only fit her. Golden blonde and sandy brown tinted the girl’s hair, and a bright-eyed face that proves her to be the youngest of the group, being only a year behind Irele.

A trail of sand plumed as they zipped down. It was a collective skill for them to resist squealing and cheering in delight as they slide down a two- to three-mile long sand slide. Irele and Drello surfed with a quiet confidence in the middle of this friendly competition between the two of them; sweving and leaving snake-trails along the sand, as one overtook the other.

Show off! Said each teenager in their heads, referring to the other.

Only a few meters remain before the group lands on flat grounds. They hopped out of their rides and hurried behind the rocks.

“I thought you were gonna beat my streak, Drello?” jeered Irele.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever!” the boy chide, and the girl snickered under her breath.

Another cautionary look through the lens before they approach the herd and then they scrambled to their positions. For every job they took together, there was always a harmony amongst them, a testament to their three to four years of friendship forged by their odd job life.

As always, Irele was in charge of the actual wrangling—along with Drello and Frelik. The two other girls’ jobs were to tranquilize the animals should any of them escape or refuse to be mounted.

The three vaulted over the rocks, leaving Heeda and Venee—Frelik’s sister—behind. Producing ropes out of their packs as they prowled quietly in the Banthas’ blind spots. Given the beast’s width, the children are practically invisible if they stay directly behind them. They became slower when they crept slower, the ropes primed into a lasso. In all their years in practice of this dangerous trade, they’ve mastered how to cleanly hoop the rope around the Bantha’s thick, spiraling horns.

A solid tug indicated that their ropes have rung around the base of the horns, they jumped onto the giants’ backs. Drello’s Bantha bucked its massive head, attempting to wriggle the rope off. Unfortunately, the boy had caught perhaps a more aggressive one than the rest of the herd; and to add insult to injury, his ropes have tangled around his leg and a few strands of the Bantha’s fur caught along with it.

“Drello, hold on!”

“Irele!” Drello yelped. “HELP!”

“Stay still!”

Seeing the trouble from their post, Heeda and Venee primed their dart guns.

“Wait for my signal, Heeda,” Venee warned. Fives seconds when they saw a clear shot, “Now!”

Two darts charged with a strong dosage of tranquilizer pierced their way through the Bantha’s curtain of fur and thick hide. The girth of the needle was thick enough to penetrate the animal’s skin. Drello’s Bantha seemed to have slowed down and the boy finally won some control over the beast.

“Troublemaker, are ya?! I’ll sell you to the first butcher I see in town!” grumbled a vexed Drello.

“Aw come on, don’t be like that!”

“What? He was the one who tried to buck me off while my leg’s caught in the rope,”

“Maybe he doesn’t like you,” Frelik suggested jokingly and the rest of the children giggled in agreement.

For the Banthas who didn’t put up much of a fight and were tamer, Irele suggested strapping their skimmer to the beasts.

“Since they got ropes around their horns anyway, we can just tie the other end on the winch!” she suggested, and everyone loved the fun idea.

There were no objections from her friends. In fact, they were all in on it! Heeda and Venee wanted to the ride bareback on the Bantha while the other three would sit in the skimmer. All five teenagers giggled in excitement and delight as their idea is about to be put into play, until Irele’s smile vanished, she flinched when she felt a needle prick the back of her shoulder.

“This is PG-957, target has been found and marked.” a sinister, muffled voice spoke through his comlink gauntlet.

No one noticed the tiny dart that had landed in her shoulder, but she easily swatted it off like it was some kind of debris. Little did she know that the tiny bullet that hit her packed such a punch. In her easterly side, she saw two distant figures calling out to her. The first figure waved a piece of cloth to get her attention, the second cupped their mouth with their hands to amplify their voice.

Irele!! Come quick!

“Hey, Irele, what’s wrong?” Frelik asked as he noticed his friend has suddenly gotten quiet.

“Smoke?” she muttered under her breath.

She squinted her eyes, sheltered her head with her scarf and confirmed that a pillar of smoke was in the distance as the Banthas pulled their skimmer.

“Do you see that?” she asked to no one in particular.

“See what?”

“That! That column of smoke over there!”

Frelik and Drello exchanged confused glances, and then back to Irele who had her back turned to them.

She squinted again, the two figures appeared to have gotten closer to where they are, and she could hear their voices.

IRELE, HURRY, IT’S YOUR FAMILY!!

“My home!” she bursts.

“Whoa, hey, Irele, where are you going!?” Drello tried to stop her by grabbing her sleeve but she slipped away.

Irele literally jumped out of a moving skimmer, taking her things with her as well.

“Irele, hey! Come back!” Heeda screeched.

“Where is she going!?” Venee exclaimed.

“There’s nothing over there!” Frelik insisted to his friend as he—along with his companions—watched her sprint into the distant nothingness.

Irele sprinted as fast as she could, those two figures materialized into a pair of older human males. Her friends literally lost her in the desert just when they were about to make their way back to Mos Espa, where they client awaits.

“I can’t see her anymore! Frelik, can you!?”

The Twi’lek growled in frustration, “No, she went straight into the storm!”

“Is she crazy!?” his sister protested.

“We have to go after her!” Heedra insisted.

“We’re not equipped for a sandstorm, Heeda, we can’t turn around. We have to get back to town and get shelter!” Drello argued.

They have no choice. They continued in their original path but they wordlessly promised that they’d come back for her.

Irele followed the direction of the smoke, knowing that it’s coming from the homestead. The adrenaline made her forget the aching of her legs, exhausted from running. She cared not if her friends didn’t believe her, her vision narrowed to the direction of her house. She didn’t even notice that the two males she followed were out of her sight.

The tower of black smoke got bigger as she closed the distance further. At the top of her parched lungs, she cried out for her family.

“OWEN!! BERU!!” she screeched.

She caught sight of her homestead in flames—or so she thinks—the dirty white dome of her house was charred black, a gaping hole put into the front door, the machines in their rotunda had been blown up, and tattered rags scattered across the front of the house.

“No…” she gasped. “NO!! OWEN! BERU! WHERE ARE YOU!?”

She repeated these three names, but an answer did not come.

Irele… a voice called to her.

“Owen!?”

Irele… do not fight it. It instructed her. It was a deep, ominous voice, and after the last word, a sharp robotic breath followed.

She recognizes that voice anywhere. She’s heard it in her nightmares, during the nights where she cannot sleep.

“No… No… Bring them back!” she cried.

She did not know it was an illusion. The sniper who had planted the needle into her flesh had followed the girl aimlessly going into an incoming sandstorm.

Poor Irele spun around in a panic, thinking that she was standing in the premises of her home, when in fact that she was standing in the first few inches of the storm. It was all a blur in her eyes, but she persisted looking for her family. The sniper, a trooper with a unique black armor, watched the poor girl spin until she got dizzy and weak.

Meanwhile, Darth Vader remained unmoving in his meditation chamber, dead center in the black, cold floor. He could hear Irele’s cries, her screaming of Owen and Beru’s names, and he could feel the hot, prickling wind that swats her face. The leather of his gloves squeaked as he tightened his already-closed fists.

Irele…

“No…” she exhaled one last time. “Bring them… back…”

“Target incapacitated. Requesting transport.” The trooper reported and was answered by an incoming transport craft to retrieve the trooper and a knocked out Irele.

–

The storm had eventually died down, but the teenagers’ anxiety did not.

Once they’ve gotten rid of the Banthas, they instantly hopped back on their skimmer and retraced their steps to the location where they lost Irele.

The sandstorm had erased her tracks, but they followed the direction where she aimlessly ran to.

Frelik heavily relied on his binoculars to find any sign of Irele. They had gotten far enough from the path they took when the Banthas pulled their skimmer. Drello may not be the most skilled wrangler, but he was a good tracker.

“We were here when she started talking funny, saying that she sees smoke when there’s nothing at all,” Drello pointed out the subtle indents of their skimmer and the Banthas’ hooves. He then angled his body to his easterly side, mimicking Irele’s position before she ran off. “And then she ran off there.”

“It’s strange,” Frelik added. “I heard her say the word ‘Home’ before she ran… but her house is in that direction.”

“Maybe the heat got to her?” Heeda theorized.

Frelik shook his head, “We didn’t even stay out that long, Heeda.”

“Come on, talking will take us nowhere!” Venee grunted. “Drello, what can you take from here?”

“We go to that direction,”

The skimmer hovered in a steady, leisurely pace; they were careful not to miss anything. The wind picked up as they got farther, a minor aftermath of the sandstorm in the middle of its calm; on his right, Frelik spotted something fluttering in the distance.

“Look! Drello turn us over there,”

Drello went straight ahead for that fluttering brown shape in the wind. Heeda picked it up and they all gathered around it.

“This is Irele’s scarf,” Venee mumbled pessimistically

“Then she must be close!” Heeda’s hopefulness contrasted the Twi’lek girl’s mood.

With only her lost scarf as a clue, it took the group all day trying to find her. The sunset beckoned them to stop. It never crossed their mind that they have to tell this to Owen and Beru, and they were scrambling over on what to tell them, how to say and explain it all, and that they’ll witness firsthand the wrath of Owen Lars—as well as his grief.

Reluctant, they drove their skimmer to the Lars homestead, with only a piece of Irele to bring home to her family. Up to now, not one of them have decided who will speak to Owen—neither do they have the courage to walk up to the front door.

They agreed that they go together, however, they hesitate to come an inch closer.

Eventually, Owen appeared out of the door.

“Oh, good thing you kids are back before dark.”

Silence from the children. Drello clutched onto Irele’s scarf so hard that it creased.

Owen’s eyes shifted left to right, counting in his mind, and it hit him.

“Where’s Irele?”

The teenagers flinched—shoulders flinched, sweaty fists clenched tighter, and knees were knocking.

Owen repeated the question until he spotted the scarf crumpled up into a ball.

“That’s Irele’s,” he pointed weakly at it. “Where is she!?”

“We… We’re sorry, but we lost her…”

“Lost her? Lost her!? Lost her how?!”

The raising of Owen’s voice attracted Beru—carrying Luke—to go outside. She finds Irele’s group being confronted by her husband.

“Owen, what’s going on here?”

“Irele didn’t come with them.”

“What?!” Beru gasped, her brown eyes widened.

Venee stepped forward, “We were on our way back, honest! But she started acting strange. She looked distraught about your house, she said she spotted smoke coming from here but…”

“What smoke? We were perfectly fine here all day!” Owen interrupted.

The Twi’lek girl continued, alternately looking to her friends. They vouched her every word with nervous yet truthful nods.

“That’s the thing, sir. What’s worse is… she ran into an incoming sandstorm. That’s when we lost her.”

Heeda stepped in Venee’s side, “It’s true what Venee said. We tried to look for her when the storm passed, honest! We just didn’t want to stay until dark because of the Tuskens.”

“We’re sorry,” Frelik said sadly and with a misplaced guilt. “But this is what we can only find of her.”

Drello unfurled the scarf and held it in both hands, presenting it to Irele’s brother. The young boy stepped forward to hand it over to the man who was hesitant to take it from his hands. Unable to accept that this was a rhyme to the fate of his late stepmother.

“No…” Owen’s rage melted into grief and distress. His heart wrenched. “Oh no…”

“Owen…”

Luke tugged the collar of Beru’s jacket and quietly asked, “Aunt Beru, where’s Irele?”

Unable to grasp how Irele’s friends had lost her, neither can Beru explain it to her nephew-in-law.

“Irele’s… Irele won’t be home for a while, dear.”

“Why?”

At a loss, Beru gave up looking for answers, there were no right ones after all.

“I don’t know, darling, I don’t know…”

As soon as Irele’s scarf came to Owen’s hands, he did not care anymore who would see him break down to tears. His knees melted, his back arched as he embraced a remnant of his dear sister—his remaining closest kin next to Luke—as he was fueled by the burning determination to find her.

Even if it meant he will have to repeat his father’s steps in finding Shmi all those years ago, then he would do the same for Irele. But for this night, the dunes heard his sobs and buried them underneath each and every grain of sand.

The next few days seemed desperate and hopeless. Owen had called up every men who were willing to come with him in search of Irele, her friends joined in as well. By the day, their numbers thinned out—majority giving up on the search as they could not find any other relevant leads except the scarf and the girl’s last known position.

“Give it a rest, Owen! The girl’s probably lost, or worse, fallen into a Sarlacc pit while in a heatstroke daze.”

“DON’T YOU DARE SAY THAT ABOUT MY SISTER!” Owen swung with a finger pointed at the man who claimed such an assumption.

Knowing that this was not worth his time and energy anymore, the scout gave up and turned tail. Owen originally rounded up at least fifty men scattered across the outskirts of the major towns, even as far as the Dune Sea; though little by little, they all gave up on the search as well as Owen himself. Some with a heart apologized and wished him luck in finding the teenage girl.

“Oh, Irele…” Owen huffed, exhausted. “Where are you…?”

He was forced to stop the search just a few hours before sunset. He sent her friends home earlier. Upon returning to the house, he watched as Beru quickly walked out of the kitchen with a hopeful face—only for that hopefulness to fade away when she saw that her husband arrived alone.

She awkwardly dismissed herself and returned to the kitchen. Leaving Luke playing with a toy cruiser and shuttle on the table. Owen sat across him, the boy continued playing and reentered the little world he’s created with his ships, accompanied by little scaled figurines carved out of painted wood.

And from that day forward, something in Owen changed. In the following years, he would have grown old and sterner especially towards the remaining youngest family member—his nephew. Never mind if Luke would resent Owen’s ways in disciplining him or keeping him grounded, if it meant keeping him safe and preventing the same fate to happen to the boy, then he would do it.

He cannot afford to lose another part of his family.

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dramaticlester · 4 years ago

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hot chocolate and marshmallows

Merry Christmas!

summary: A package arrives for them and Dan doesn’t know how to help. (based off Cornelia's story of the mince pies Mrs. Lester made)

genre: fluffy angst

warnings: bittersweet, swearing

relationship; established

It was bittersweet, the day Phil told him that he couldn’t go home for Christmas. Phil loved Dan, Dan knew that, but not getting to see his family crushed Phil from the inside out. He was sad and moody, becoming teary-eyed at the smallest mention of Christmas.

“Hey, maybe we should put the Christmas tree up? You love the Christmas tree,” Dan suggested, rubbing Phil’s arm.

Phil sniffed, rubbing his eyes, “I don’t think so, love.”

Dan hadn’t really mentioned it again, but his heart did clench in his chest every time Phil had to make a joke about how un-festive the flat was this year.

It was a Tuesday morning when the doorbell went. Phil had gone down the stairs as usual, clad in his colourful pyjamas with his glasses pushed up his nose, ready to accept the postman’s cheery greeting.

He clambered back up the stairs as clumsily as usual, and made his way to the kitchen to put the mail on the table to check through it.

Though, the silence after this was deafening, just the idle clicking of Dan’s keyboard.

“Phil?” Dan tried when he didn’t turn up in the living room, quirking an eyebrow when he didn’t get a reply. He put his laptop aside to go into the kitchen, his steps quiet thanks to his sock-clad feet.

Phil had his back turned to the door when Dan walked in, his shoulders shaking silently, hand drawn to his mouth to muffle his sobs. Dan looked at the kitchen table where a beautiful little box sat. Next to it was a card, addressed to them both with the unmistakable scrawl of Kathryn Lester. In the box, were mince pies neatly lined up. Dan felt his heart stutter, feeling the pain radiating from Phil.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Dan whispered, coming up behind Phil, circling his waist with his arms and pressing a kiss to his head. After a few moments, Phil turned round in his embrace, putting his head on his chest and sobbing, Dan’s body shaking along with the intensity of it. Dan shushed him, rubbing his back gently and fluttering kisses to his head.

“A year, Dan,” Phil whispered, hiccupping. “I haven’t seen them for so long.”

“I know, darling.”

Phil had been embarrassed for a while after that, refusing to keep eye contact with Dan.

“You know it’s okay to feel sad, Phil?” Dan whispered when they were laying in bed, Dan’s chest to Phil’s back, an arm slung tightly over his hip.

“It’s not that,” Phil sighed, turning to face him instead, lifting his finger to move a stray curl off Dan’s forehead and then cupping his face. “I’m worried about you.”

“Me?” Dan snorted a laugh, pulling Phil closer. “Phil, you know my family isn’t like yours. Being here with you will be the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”

“That’s what I’m worried about” Phil said, biting his lip. “I’m scared you’ll think I don’t want to spend Christmas with you. Because I do, Dan. I want to spend everyday with you. I want you to spend it with me at my family home, though.”

Dan didn’t interrupt, giving him a gentle smile, splaying his thumb out to massage Phil’s hip.

“Mum loves you, you know?” Phil murmured, slipping his hand down from Dan’s jaw to his neck, pressing lightly at his pulse point. Dan shuddered, his intake of breath audible.

Dan leaned forward, pressing his lips to Phil’s, “I know.”

“Your lack of words doesn’t help, Daniel,” Phil teased.

“Phil, I know you love me,” Dan said simply, rolling over to straddle Phil’s hips, mouth pulled into a grin.

“But?”

“I know you love your mother, too. I know you want to spend Christmas with me, you tell me every single year,” Dan reminded him, leaning down to cage Phil’s head with his arms, looming over him. “The circumstances are just shit this time.”

“How do you always know what to say?” Phil murmured, gazing up at Dan happily; adoring.

“I don’t,” Dan said. “You just bring the best out in me.”

Phil lifted his head to kiss Dan greedily, his hand trailing up to Dan’s hair. He pulled back briefly, catching Dan’s eyes, half-lidded.

“I’ll show you how much I appreciate it,” he hummed, switching their positions and moving slowly down Dan’s body.

“You always do, darling.”

Afterwards, they lay together, sweaty and spent. Dan’s hand combed through Phil’s hair gently, his other hand cradling Phil to his chest.

“I’m sad. But I can’t wait to spend Christmas with you, Dan.”

Dan just smiled, kissing the top of Phil’s head and giving him a squeeze. Dan wasn’t quite as sad, but he was still grateful for his wonderful boy.

They managed to drag themselves out of bed eventually, persuaded by the idea of a warm shower, fluffy PJ’s and a takeaway pizza calling their names.

When they were clean and had ordered the pizza, Dan took Phil’s hand settling him down on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket.

“I’ll be back in a second, love,” he smiled as Phil pushed into the hand that was combing through his hair.

Dan went to the kitchen, pouring milk into two cups and heating it up in the microwave. He grinned when he saw the two hot chocolate bombs still sitting on his shelf. So Phil hadn't found them.

Once the milk was warm, he walked back into the living room and placed the glasses on the table. From his pocket, he produced the two hot chocolates, grinning as Phil’s face turned delighted.

“I’m lucky, Daniel,” Phil beamed, taking one out of Dan’s hands. They placed them in at the same time, watching as the chocolate melted and mini marshmallows popped to the top.

They got snuggled under the blanket, Phil reaching for the TV remote once they were settled.

“Wait, one last thing,” Dan smiled, taking his laptop off the side table and opening it.

“Dan-”

“Shh,” Dan giggled, rolling his eyes. He pulled up skype.

“Hi, loves,” Kath grinned from the screen, waving and gesturing for Phil’s dad to come over.

Phil got teary eyed quickly, covering his mouth.

“I know you’ve been struggling, bub,” Dan whispered, kissing the side of his head. “I know it’s not the same but-”

“I love you,” Phil murmured, snuggling tighter to Dan’s side. He looked to the screen where his mum was grinning, her own eyes misty. “I told you he’s too good to be real, mum,” he joked.

Dan laughed, swatting at Phil’s arm.

“It’s true, though. Thankyou, Dan. For looking after our boy.”

Dan turned rosy cheeked, the little red patch beside his jaw going even darker.

“He makes it easy,” He mumbled, catching Phil’s eye. Phil kissed him quickly.

“Anyway, mum, have you seen these hot chocolate bombs?”

Christmas Day came quickly. Phil was still sad, but at the same time, he was happy waking up in Dan’s arms.

“You can cry, if you need to,” Dan said, rubbing his arms. Phil pushed back into his hold, sighing as their bodies pressed even tighter together.

“I don’t. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

They stayed in bed until 12pm, only getting up when their stomachs started grumbling loudly. They made cereal, sitting side by side on the couch, exchanging gifts at the same time. There were tears, but only happy. Especially when they started the skype session where Phil’s family and Dan’s family were chatting happily, uncaring of Dan and Phil’s hands which were linked together beneath the blanket they were sat under.

The skype lasted until around 2pm, when the boys left to get ready. changing into actual clothes and making themselves look like functioning human beings.

Later, they snapped some photos sat on the carpet, holding their drinks, slightly buzzed from the alcohol already. 2 were shared with their followers.

1 was kept for just them.

#phan #phandom #phanfiction #danandphil #dnp

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hansols-yoda-boxers · 5 years ago

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A Quick Tongue

Jihoon x Tall!Female Reader

Word Count: 3789

Contents: light teasing about heights, also teasing in the sexual sense, a club bathroom, dom svt, marking, fingering, messy oral (female and male receiving), slight begging, slight degradation

Note: This one was based off of this ask from a while back. I won’t get too into it but usually I try not to write with too many physical descriptors so more people and picture themselves. That being said, sometimes it’s nice to have the body type be more specific. This one goes out to all my tall girls, the reader here is meant to be at least 5′8″ (173 cm or so) or taller. I hope y’all like it.

Jihoon insisted you wear heels. He always insisted and he only did so because he knew you liked how they looked. Flats never looked right with a nice dress for an album release party. They just never felt classy enough. You felt like a kid going to a middle school dance, not Jihoon’s girlfriend going to a fancy party. So you donned the heels and Jihoon built up your confidence. He always told you how hot you looked but it was the looks that did it, the way he stared at you, the way he checked you out very conspicuously, the way you could see him undressing you with his eyes.

There wasn’t much of a doubt in your mind that Jihoon found you attractive. One look at the way he was eyeing you up told you as much. But it didn’t stop you from feeling insecure.

You were taller than Jihoon, significantly taller. Whether it bothered him or not when you first met you don’t know but if it did he got over himself. The two of you clicked so well from the first moment. You could joke around with him and he loved that you held your own with him, that you kept up with him. He decided your height was no reason not to date you. And it didn’t seem to matter to him how tall you were or if you got taller.

You were still his babygirl.

That didn’t stop other people from pointing out your height though, and that was what you were worried about at present. Because as his hand rested around your waist and he walked you into the noisy, and somewhat fancy club you were very aware of how much you stood out next to him. It made you more aware of how the heels added two more inches to your height, of how much taller you looked when you stood next to him. You caught a few glances. People giggled in their small groups and while the rational part of your brain pointed out that they weren’t even looking at you, your mind was already plagued with anxieties.

“You really are the hottest woman in here.” Jihoon’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

“You’re just saying that,” you mumbled.

“No, I’m pretty sure I’ve got the hottest woman on my arm,” he smirked at you.

You felt the heat rising in your cheeks but you couldn’t help the way the smile tugged at your lips. He was always quick to reassure you of how much he wanted you and that was good at least. You felt him give your waist a reassuring squeeze as he led you over to Soonyoung, Jun, and Wonwoo.

“Another album, another party,” Soonyoung chimed, clapping Jihoon on the back. “And once again you outdid yourself.”

“So did you,” Jihoon added. “That choreo is exhausting.”

The group chuckled and Jihoon grabbed the two of you drinks as a waiter passed by. It would have been fancier, having people talking around with drinks on trays, but it helped that they were all in black t-shirts and pants. You thought if it were any fancier you might feel far too out of place.

You sipped at your drink, letting your thoughts carry you away a little as they talked. You only half paid attention. As interesting as music production and songwriting was, Jihoon had a habit of losing you just a bit when the technicalities of it came up. As such, you didn’t realize that the conversation had shifted until Jihoon had grabbed himself another drink and the group started laughing.

You heard Soonyoung call your name and you looked up from where your eyes were trained on your drink. “Your heels are pretty.” You bristled a little as he turned to Jihoon. “Jihoon, you should have worn platforms.”

Wonwoo tried to hide his snort in his drink while Jun elbowed Soonyoung in the ribs. It was nothing new for Soonyoung to razz Jihoon about his height and considering you were so close in height to everyone else in the group, especially in heels, it just made Jihoon stick out more. You felt his fingers squeeze your side again but his expression remained casual.

“That would make it much harder to kick your ass,” he joked. The group laughed and you glanced at Jihoon. He gave you a reassuring smile before turning his attention to the cherry left in his drink.

“Who do you think can tie their cherry stem in a knot faster?” he mused and you were thankful for the subject change. Soonyoung and Jun fished theirs out of their glasses eagerly while Wonwoo sighed and grabbed his too.

“You would guess Wonwoo,” Jun thought aloud.

“I just want to beat Jihoon,” Soonyoung grinned.

“Good luck,” Jihoon added. You caught the smirk he sent you and it sent a thrill through you. Jihoon counted down as each of them held their cherry stems to their lips, taking them into their mouths the second he said “go.”

You could have watched all of them to look for the victor but you were transfixed watching the way Jihoon’s tongue pressed his cheek out and moved around his mouth. In a matter of seconds you were forgetting all about the comment that had been made, and were much more focused on the heat pooling in the pit of your stomach as you thought about where you wanted that tongue.

You caught you bottom lip between your teeth as Jihoon stuck out his tongue and took the perfectly tied stem into his hand. You could feel heat rising in your cheeks but you didn’t much care when caught in the quick, heated look Jihoon gave you.

None of the others seemed to notice your quick exchange as they rushed to come in second. Wonwoo produced a tied stem a moment later, followed by Jun, though his was a little messier. Soonyoung gave up a few seconds after that, sticking his tongue out to show the mangled stem that was definitely not tied.

"Not so fast with that tongue, huh Soonyoung," Wonwoo quipped with a smirk.

"There's a reason he's in the performance unit," Jihoon added.

"Is that why you can't hold onto a girlfriend, Soonyoung?" The words left your mouth almost too quickly for you to register them. Then again if Soonyoung was going to use you to joke around with Jihoon, than you could certainly tease him.

The group erupted into laughter as Soonyoung's jaw dropped. Jihoon leaned into your side for support as he was overtaken with laughter. Wonwoo choked on his drink and Jun hit Soonyoung playfully on the shoulder as his look of shock melted to one of amusement.

"Okay just for that, I'll get you any drink you want," Jihoon chuckled. The others continued to chirp Soonyoung as Jihoon led you towards the bar, his grip firm on your hip. Though, as the giggles finally died down in you, you only became more aware of the heat between your legs. You could feel the heat start to lick at your cheeks as the two of you stopped.

"Okay babe what- what's that look for?"

You cursed the way your face started to give way to what you were thinking. You didn't answer him but Jihoon lifted a hand to cup your cheek and smirked.

"You're blushing," he said lowly.

"Am I?" You asked, trying and failing to feign ignorance as he pulled you down so he could whisper in your ear.

"Are you that impatient, babygirl? That you can't even wait until we get home? That you want to fucked in this club?"

You didn't manage to hold back your whimper and Jihoon's smirk only grew wider as his hand slipped into yours and he started to lead you through the crowded room. You were thankful for the private bathrooms and the fact that the club kept them clean as Jihoon locked the door behind you.

He was quick to push you up against the wall. A gasp left your lips as his fingers threaded into your hair and he pulled you down roughly, his lips crashing against yours. His tongue was quick to press into your mouth and he swallowed your whines and small moans as he kissed you.

You whimpered as you felt his fingers slide down your side teasingly slow. He smirked against your lips before he moved to kiss your neck, sending shivers down your spine from the feeling.

"How worked up have you gotten yourself, babygirl?" He asked, his fingers trailing teasingly over your thigh.

"I-I-" you struggled to form any kind of thought.

"Come on babygirl, use your words?"

You felt your cheeks burning as you spoke quietly. "I-I can't stop thinking a-about your t-tongue."

A gasp left your lips as his fingers suddenly moved between your legs. He dragged them over your soaked panties, trying to hide the way he inhaled sharply. His hips pressed closer against your thigh and he ground against you subtly.

You bit down on your lip to hold back the whimpers as his fingers found your clit easily through your panties, sending small shocks of pleasure through your body. He teased you slowly as his lips trailed down to the neckline of your dress.

It didn't take much of his teasing for your hips started chasing his fingers, rolling into his hand, greedy for more of the heavenly sensation. Your hands tried uselessly to grip into the smooth, dark tile walls. His lips moved down your chest along the neckline of your dress before he started to suck on your skin.

"Won't s-someo-" you gasped as his fingers slipped into your panties, easily sliding through your folds, gathering some of your arousal.

"Won't someone what, babygirl?" He teased.

You let out a moan as he pressed one finger into your heat and started curling it, slowly. You fought with your brain for clarity as he sucked the tender spot between his lips again.

"W-Won't someone s-see that?"

His lips released from your skin and you felt his smirk. "So you're telling me you don't want any marks, you don't want any evidence of the ways I completely ruin you babygirl?"

A chuckle left his lips as you clenched around his fingers, only more turned on by his words. "That's what I thought," he hummed. "Since you usually beg me to cover you marks."

You let your head fall back against the cool tile wall that felt cooler by the second next to your hot skin. A whimper escaped your lips and you felt Jihoon grind against your thigh more firmly, his hard on now evident, pressing against you. His finger moved in you more quickly as he moved along your neckline, leaving more marks that your dress would barely cover, the excitement of it making your head spin.

You started to grind down against his finger harder, whimpering and whining. Jihoon looked up at you, smirking and purposely slowing the motion of his hand as he took in the desperate look on your face.

"You're having so much trouble using your words tonight, babygirl," he teased. "You know you have to tell me what you want."

"M-More," you whimpered.

"More what, babygirl?"

You cared less and less about the heat licking at your cheeks as your need grew stronger from his teasing.

"F-Faster," you whined. "And another finger."

"Isn't that a little bold, babygirl?" He asked. "Did I say you were calling the shots?"

You shook your head quickly, eyes locked with his and opened your mouth to speak but all that fell from your lips was a moan as he pressed a second finger into you quickly.

You struggled to keep your eyes open and your gaze on him just how he liked as his fingers thrust into you quickly, curling in just the right spot that sent shocks of pleasure through your body. Your fingers tried desperately to find purchase against the smooth tiles as your legs started to tremble. Moans and whimpers fell from your lips and Jihoon watched you intently, his smirk growing wider as you rolled your hips for him desperately.

“You’re so pretty like this, babygirl,” he teased, drawing another whine from your lips. “You’re so precious when you’re desperate for my fingers alone.”

A gasp passed your lips as he pressed a third finger into you and thrust them quickly. His thumb found your clit and the shocks of bliss curled through you, mixing with the waves of pleasure from his fingers. His free hand slid up your side and he pulled the neckline of your dress over, easily moving the cup of your bra out of the way and sucking your nipple between his lips harshly.

A cry left your lips and your legs shook as your orgasm crashed over you. Waves of pleasure rushed through every inch of your body as your eyes fell shut and Jihoon pressed against you to keep you standing against the cool wall. His fingers didn’t let up until you moans turned to whimpers and you weakly twisted your hips away.

A gasp left your lips as he pulled you far enough from the wall to unzip your dress. You let him push it off your shoulders and let it fall to the ground before he sunk to his knees in front of you. His fingers pulled your panties down your shaking legs, a smirk gracing his lips and you struggled to stay standing as you stepped out of them slowly.

You whimper and braced yourself against the wall as he threw one of your legs over his shoulder but his smirk only grew wider between kisses pressed to your inner thighs.

“You didn’t think I was done, did you babygirl? You were so focused on my tongue earlier, don’t you still want to cum on it?”

You nodded quickly with a whine and he chuckled at your eagerness before placing more kisses on your thighs, teasing you slowly. His lips moved ever closer to your core and you tried to hold still, knowing the more desperation you showed the slower he would move. You knew how much he loved you like this, how easily you became putty in his hands and how badly you wanted everything he could give you.

You gasped as he ran his tongue through your folds, gathering your release on his tongue and groaning. The feeling sent shivers of pleasure from your over sensitive core through your body. Whimpers and small moans started to fall from your lips as his tongue teased your clit, quickly falling into a motion that had your head spinning.

Your legs trembled as the pleasure curled through you. Jihoon’s grip on your thigh was tight as he pressed his face in close, sucking your clit between his lips and drawing a wanton moan from your lips. His tongue teased over your sensitive bud and your eyes slid shut as your head fell back against the cool tile and you prayed your legs didn’t completely give out beneath you.

Jihoon let his tongue trail lower, teasing at your entrance. He moved his tongue just a little too slowly and you swore you felt his smirk as your legs trembled and you tried to roll your hips down against his tongue. A gasp left your lips as he pressed your hips back against the wall roughly.

“Don’t get greedy, babygirl,” he purred. “I want to take my time with you.”

Your fingers curled uselessly against the tiles as his tongue teased the edges of your entrance and dipped in slightly. His nose rubbed against your sensitive bundle of nerves and you did your best to keep still, absolutely desperate for more. His pace was maddeningly slow and you knew you wanted him to give you more of anything, even if it was too much for you you didn’t care. His teasing was driving you nuts.

“Please,” you whimpered. “P-Please I need m-more.”

Jihoon hummed quietly, sending vibrations against your core but moving no faster.

“J-Jihoon please,” you begged. “P-Please make me cum. I n-need it so badly. Y-You’re tongue always f-feels so good and you c-can make me c-cum as many times as you w-want, j-just, p-please-”

A moan fell from your lips as his tongue plunged into your dripping heat. Your eyes rolled back and slid shut as he curled his tongue into you. He knew just how to move it to draw his own name from your lips and any thought of what might be heard in from outside of the bathroom had been long since abandoned as the feeling of his tongue started to consume you.

His teasing had already brought you so maddeningly close to your edge. The way he moved his tongue and moaned lowly against your core had tendrils of pleasure curling tighter and tighter around the coil in the pit of your stomach. Jihoon’s hands held you tight against the wall as he eat you out with a vigor.

Your legs shook and his name fell from your lips in a loud moan as your orgasm crashed over you. Your core tightened around his tongue and your release dripped down his chin and your thighs as waves of bliss coursed through.

Jihoon only held onto you tighter as you the sensitivity took over your body. You whimpered but did your best to hold still and stay balanced on your one high heeled foot as he only ate you out with more passion. His tongue plunged in as deeply as it could go and he curled it against your sweet spot over and over.

The shaking in your body didn’t let up as his nails dug into your skin. Babbles of Jihoon’s name fell from your lips as the pleasure built again pulled you deeper and deeper. The words climbed higher and higher in your voice as you slid a little lower down the wall, knowing your legs were barely holding you up any more. Your moans grew louder as he pressed in close, moving his thumb to rub over your clit quickly as his tongue thrust and curled into you quickly, greedily.

You were sure the near scream that came from your throat would attract attention but all you cared about was your release. Jihoon held your hips firmly against the wall as you came hard on his tongue, riding out your orgasm on shaking legs and feeling your release dripping off his chin and down your thighs as he lapped up as much as he could.

Jihoon lowered your other leg to the ground and then helped you to your knees, your legs shaking far too badly to stand. You struggled to stay up on your knees, keeping your legs apart and feeling your release drip down your thighs as Jihoon moved back to admire the sight of you, slowly moving to his feet.

You looked up at him and he caught his bottom lip between his teeth as he drank you in. He leaned down to push your breasts properly out of their bra cups, his gaze dark as he admired you.

“You look so fucking good like this, babygirl,” his voice, low with much more of a growl to it, gave away just how turned on he was. “Your release dripping down your thighs, that pretty fucked out look on your face.” His fingers tangled into your hair and he groaned at the way you moved your hands behind your back and let your mouth fall open as he freed his cock from his pants.

“Your mouth open, still so eager to be my pretty little slut, aren’t you babygirl?” he growled.

You only opened your mouth wider with a moan, gazing up at him with desperate eyes and nodding, wanting nothing more than to feel his cock, hot and heavy on your tongue, filling your mouth.

His grip on your hair tightened as he pushed his cock past your lips with a groan. Despite how tired and sensitive you were his sounds and the way he started to thrust into your mouth were only making you wetter, more of your juices slipping down your inner thighs. Jihoon kept his dark gaze locked on your heavily lidded eyes and the way his cock disappeared past your lips as his hips found a steady pace.

You relaxed your jaw as much as you could as he pushed his cock a little deeper with each thrust until he was hitting the back of your throat with each movement of his hips. You did your best, still gagging a little and hearing his curses under his breath and feeling his cock pulse on your tongue at the feeling.

He started to thrust into your mouth more roughly, chasing his high. His hand in your hair held your head still as he fucked your mouth, his cock breaching your throat with each thrust. You gagged around him and drool spilled from the corners of your lips as you gazed up at him, eyes watering every slightly as you tried to get your mouth open wider for him, leaning as far forward as his hand would let you and trying to take all of him.

All of your eagerness drew curses from his lips as he got closer and closer to his release. With a sharp tug he pulled you back off of his cock, stroking himself quickly until hot, thick ropes of cum sprayed across your chest, low groans falling from his lips and as he covered your skin with his release.

You slumped back against the cool tiles as he let go of your hair. Jihoon’s breathing slowly started to even out as he gazed down at you through heavily lidded eyes, slowly moving down to his knees in front of you. He cupped your cheek with a sudden gentleness and smiled tiredly.

“You’re too good to me, babe,” he hummed.

“As if you’re not to me,” you grinned tiredly.

He pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Let me get you cleaned up.”

“You want to go back to the party right away?” you pouted.

“We can’t stay in the bathroom all night,” he hummed soothingly.

“It’s gonna be way too obvious what we did in here,” you mumbled, feeling heat licking at your cheeks again.

“I have no problem with people seeing my very hot, very satisfied girlfriend,” he grinned.

“You just want to rub it in Soonyoung’s face, don’t you?”

“If he’s gonna tease both of us about our heights of course I’m going to rub it in his face,” Jihoon kissed your temple. “And I still owe you that drink.”

#seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #seventeen #svt imagines #svt smut #svt #woozi #woozi smut #woozi imagines #jihoon #jihoon smut #jihoon imagines #lee jihoon

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cofffeeekinks · 4 years ago

Text

Katsune no Hanayome Ch. 6

This is a commission multi-chapter fic, for @eggyboi13, who has been so patient with me in regards to how long I’ve been taking to get this out. I’m hoping to get a new chapter out every Friday.

AO3

If you want to show me your support, consider asking for a commission (only for art though) or leaving a tip in my ko-fi.

Katsune no Hanayome Chapter 6

Rated: Mature (18+)

Trans!Bakugou Trans!Todoroki Trans!Kirishima

Later chapters will contain things such as: s e x , lots of it. Heavily pregnant s e x.

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5]

After this first batch of kids, they all began to notice little subtle changes in their bodies. Izuku explained to them that they were becoming kitsune like him. But, of course these changes would be slow and take place through a long period of time. The first thing they noticed, was that their canine teeth were beginning to grow out sharper. Eijirou especially. Then, their fingernails became claws. They were also able to lose a majority of the extra weight they had gained during their pregnancy, rather quickly. Although, each of them did have a cute little layer of fat they couldn't get rid of.

They were able to adjust to being parents easily. But there was one thing that caused a problem. That was being able to produce enough milk for their babies. Shoto had no problem with this, but Eijirou and Katsuki were having problems with making enough. Shoto had tried to help when he could but he could only do so much.

And that was when Izuku came up with a plan.

“Okay, so I made a potion but….” he began, “I’ve never made one like this before and I don’t know how well it’ll work.”

“It’s not like it's gonna make us grow tits out of our heads.” Katsuki said, with a smile, “It can’t be that bad.”

Izuku frowned, “Okay but, I probably shouldn’t test this out on you two I should get a test subject and --.”

“It’ll be fine.” Eijirou encouraged.

Eijirou and Katsuki drank down the potion only to have Shoto laughing at them about a minute later. Their breasts swelled up a little too quickly, causing Katsuki to lose his balance and fall over. Eijiro managed to lean against a table, with a hand on his back because all this sudden extra weight was making his back ache.

Eijirou looked up at Shoto and asked, “Are, are they this heavy all the time?”

“Yes.” Shoto admitted, amused.

“I think you have earned some more of my respect.” Katsuki grumbled, still on the ground.

Eventually their breasts were to become flat again, but they were still able to produce enough milk to provide for all of their babies.

Izuku asked Shoto if he wanted a potion that would make his breasts go away, and such an offer was declined.

“I like how you squeeze them during sex.” he reasoned.

Once they had gotten used to their routine of taking care of their babies, something happened eight months later. They all had their first natural heat as kitsune and it was time to have some fun once again.

However, they were unaware of the preheat signs and didn’t see it coming. A few days before their heat began they all found themselves ravenous for food. This was a sign that their heats would be arriving soon. They’d eat massive amounts of food until they couldn’t move. Of the three, Shoto could eat the most in one sitting and his stomach would expand until he looked six month pregnant.

Izuku would join in by feeding them and watching as their bellies grew bigger and bigger with every bite of food. If they ever overdid it, Izuku would rub their bloated stomachs to ease the cramps of over eating then he would open their legs and eat them out.

This would happen on many occasions with Shoto. He’d open his legs to make room for his bulging stomach and feel Izuku’s tongue lick and taste his insides. It was soothing, and Shoto would eat past his limit, often causing his belly to throb and quiver in protest.

---

The next day, Eijirou was the first to wake up, and he felt strange. He felt like he did when he first took that heat potion but more intense. Not only could he hear his own heart beat pounding but he could also hear Izuku’s.

Izuku.

Fuck did he look hot. Eijirou watched as his chest rose and fell with each breath. His eyes traced each of his tight, sculpted abs and made their way down to his hips then his large, pulsating dick.

He wanted that dick.

He wanted it inside him. He wanted that knot. He wanted to be bred and full of babies once more and god damn it --

He needed a taste. Eijirou undid the belt of Izuku’s robe and lickd at its length with the flat of his tongue. Feeling someone playing with his cock, Izuku woke up and saw Eijirou deep throating him. There was also a thick scent in the air. The scent radiated off of each of the men and grew heavier as they began to wake up.

This was it.

They were all having their first natural heats and Izuku was going to soothe their fires. He sent a message to the servants to take care of the babies for the next day or so. Izuku was going to give his mates everything they wanted.

And if that was to become pregnant again, then he would fill them with babies.

But before Izuku could have his way with his mates, Katsuki decided they would tease him a bit, “Nope, you’re going to have to let us have fun with each other first.” he declared, with one hand on Shoto’s tit and one around Eijirou’s waist, “Sit and watch.”

Izuku obeyed.

He watched as Katsuki squeezed Shoto’s breasts, the blond then began to suck on the little droplets of warm milk that began to flow. Izuku’s kitsune ears twitched at the sound of Katsuki’s moaning from Eijirou’s strap-on being pounded into him, “Ha--har-harder--.” Katsuki panted, opening his mouth and allowing Shoto’s tit to breathe. Milk tripped down his body and outlined his hips.

Katsuki stuck his fingers into Shoto’s soft pussy, Shoto took in a sharp breath and he dug his claws into Katsuki’s shoulders. Katsuki moaned in pleasure, then with half lidded eyes he glanced toward Izuku who was masturbating.

“Would you like to join us?”

“Yes please.”

This lovely event of all day sex did lead to, um, well, babies of course. Shoto would become pregnant with five babies, Eijirou with four, and Katsuki with two. Katsuki was ecstatic, he didn’t have to deal with pushing out six little bodies or none of his clothes fitting. He only had two souls within him.

“The babies aren’t even one year old yet, and you’ve already gotten them pregnant again.” Inko admonished, worriedly, “Did you not listen when I told you about birth control, Izuku?”

“Yes I did but…”

“But what?” she crossed her arms and glared at him.

Eijirou, Katsuki, and Shoto all watched as their husband was scolded by his mother. Even though they were all happy to be pregnant again, she was right. They would need to be more careful next time. They especially realized this when they had to care for the little babies while being pregnant.

But the servants often helped with the rearing of the children, while the trio often helped each other in sexual ways.

All of their babies were beginning to sleep through the night and this allowed them the freedom to play with each other. One of their favorite places to do so was in the baths. And although it is not recommended for pregnant people to be in hot baths, this was different. The water was enhanced in a way that made it good for the trio. It eased their discomfort and sometimes the mist would even alleviate headaches or nausea.

One day in the middle of their pregnancy, all three of them were relaxing in the baths. Eijirou felt a little wiggle in his belly and watched as a growth spurt made his stomach expand out further.

“Oh, I love seeing that.” Katsuki pointed, “It’s always so hot to watch them grow.”

“Agreed, oooh?” Shoto paused as the babies inside him began to go wild. They kicked and swam around inside him, causing his belly to stretch out in different directions. The same thing was happening to Eijirou and Katsuki.

This meant Izuku was near.

“Oh, Dekuuuuu~!” Katsuki called, rubbing circles all over his active belly, “You’re not just going to leave us here, pregnant and heated.”

“Of course not.” Izuku said, as he stepped out into the bathing area, naked and fully erect.

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jadekitty777 · 4 years ago

Text

Puppy Love

Bit of a weird entry and a challenge to write - but it only seemed right with a prompt like this, to write from the perspective of one of Tai and Qrow's "children".

Day 4: As Parents @taiqrowweek

Rating: T

Words: 5,300

Summary: Every dog in the shelter dreams of the day they'll be set free of their metal prisons to join a pack all their own. Despite being so inadequate he wasn't even honored a name, he dreams just as hard; though, with each adoption, that place he wishes to be seems to be getting further and further away.

And then, one word changes everything.

"Puppy?"

Ao3 Link: Puppy Love

The best day of his life happened exactly eight weeks and four days after he was born.

It had started out as usual. He woke up to the sound of the rest of the kennel-bound dogs starting up a ruckus as the keepers of their metal prisons walked down the line, cleaning cages and checking water and food bowls. After that, the big dogs were let out in small packs so they could play in the field. He never got to go; he was too small. Instead, he stuck his tiny head between the bars and said hello as they passed.

Most of them paid him little mind. Hades and Zeus, the Doberman twins, jeered his way. Roxie stuck up her nose, sassy as ever. She told him once her poodle pedigree made it impossible for her to converse with peasants. Whatever that meant. He made sure to duck his head back in if Captain was with them – the coonhound liked to snap at him.

Still, there were a select few that always took the time to say hello. Like old Benji, always limping over to give him a sniff. Or the energetic husky, Skystorm, hunkering down on his forepaws as if they might actually get a chance to play. Or the motherly Lady Lucy, who would fuss over him like he was one of her long-gone pups. She never tired of telling him how much he reminded her of her ‘clever little Dodger’.

“Why he could even get cats to work for him!” She told him today as she passed. “Cats, can you imagine?”

Polite as always, he said, “No ma’am. It sounds incredible though.”

“You’re gonna fill his head full of air with stories like that Lucy.” Benji laughed.

“Nonsense! Stories build character. Who will he ever know who to aspire to be like otherwise?”

The dog in the lead of their pack growled out, “You wasting your breath on that orphan.”

“Hunter, don’t be so rude. He’s just a pup!” Lady Lucy cried.

“Oh sorry, am I not coddling him enough?” Hunter swung his head around. He only had one eye, the other lost in a fight, but the single red orb seemed to freeze him in place. “You’ll have to get used to it, brat. No human’s gonna take a stubby runt like you.”

“You’re just nasty because no one’ll ever adopt you.” Skystorm barely dodged fast enough to avoid the rather vicious bite the alpha tried to deliver.

He heard the argument continue well down the hall until he could no longer make out the words. Not that he wanted to anymore. He pulled his head back in, walking to the back of his cage and laying on his bed of rags, intending on settling in for his after-breakfast nap. But he couldn’t get Hunter’s words out of his head.

As young as he was, even he had heard the talk about how great a home was. Some of the dogs here even came from one themselves – and those who hadn’t had tales from something they’d heard. A motley mesh of things like ‘leftovers’ given underneath the dinner table that left everyone slobbering just thinking about it. Of playtime chasing all sorts of fun toys. Of walks to the beach where he could dig to his heart’s content. Of endless belly scratches and ear rubs.

He’d dreamed of it all at least a dozen times. Imagined how soft his own bed would be or how large a yard he’d have to run in. But most of all, dreamed of the family that would take him in and never let go. He wanted it more than anything!

But, was Hunter right? He had never been treated like the other dogs here. They all had names and skills. He wasn’t a working dog. He couldn’t retrieve and he couldn’t herd. He wasn’t a fancy one either, like Roxy, who was convinced she’d have a life again as a show dog. He didn’t have a Doberman’s ferocity or a husky’s vigor or a pit bull’s strength. If he couldn’t provide for his pack in any way… then why would they want him at all?

He buried his nose into his paws, but it was a long time before he fell asleep.

When humans came, it was time to perform.

A lot of dogs barked and yowled and produced up a racket for attention, but his voice wasn’t powerful enough. So, instead, he stuck his head between the bars and let his tongue loll out, entire body shaking as he wagged as hard and excited as he could whenever the people passed on by. It often earned him a pet.

Today it was a big family of seven, and the nice, stout woman who had long nails gave him such a good scratch behind his ears, it left his hind leg shaking.

“Oh aren’t you precious?” She cooed. “You would look just great in my purse.”

“Gale, we’re not here for a lap dog.” One of the men of her pack chastised.

“It doesn’t hurt to look!”

His ears fell flat as she breezed on by.

They were there for some time, looking from cage to cage. They even had the caretakers take a few out, to do a “walk test”. Roxy was prim as ever, trotting like she was putting on a show. Skystorm raced them. Zeus kept trying to bump Hades aside. No one came back to his cage.

And, worse yet, they chose the best of them all.

He couldn’t help but whine as Lady Lucy was led out with her papers all signed. The setter’s long ears raised up, looking to him. “Now none of that. You keep that tail up little one! I’m certain you’ll find your way soon.”

He tried to find strength in that encouragement, but all he discovered was the breaking of his heart as the door down the way slammed closed. He turned away, padding back to his rags and flopping over.

This day couldn’t possibly get any worse.

“Puppy!”

…What?

He lifted his head, looking back.

Standing there, in a bright, pleated dress, was one of the smallest humans he’d ever seen. Even when he stood up and walked towards her, she didn’t tower over him like most humans did. She was his size.

Her eyes went wide, a huge grin spreading on her face. “Hi puppy!” She giggled and, when he came close enough, she didn’t even wait for his trick, instead sticking her hand through the bars. She gave him a few uncoordinated, slightly rough, pats to his head. “Good boy!”

“Ruby!” A shout echoed down the hall as a man sprinted into view. He was overly tall, with legs that were spindly like a bird’s. He snatched the girl up into his arms, lifting her well out of reach. “What did I say about running off like that, pipsqueak?”

The newcomer was almost immediately joined by two more.

“You found her? Oh thank gods!” The other male of the pack said. He was almost as tall as the first, but wider built all around. It was like looking at a Labrador standing next to a greyhound. Alongside him, being held by her hand, was another young girl with wild hair. It reminded him of Benji – the briard’s fur was always in his eyes too.

“Daddy, lookie!” It was hard to tell who Ruby was speaking to, as both the men looked down at him at the same time.

It was the bigger one’s whose eyes lit up. “Oh, what a precious little guy!” He knelt down, clicking his tongue, holding his fingers out. “Come here Yang, just like this.”

The other little girl, bold as can be, pressed her fist against the bars.

Right. Tail up. Time to act.

He bounded forward, wiggled low and stuck his head right through, lifting it upwards until he could feel their fingers against his snout.

Yang giggled immediately, rubbing her knuckles along his skull. “He’s funny!”

“He sure is. Be gentle now.”

“No. No way.” The bird man groaned. “We agreed on a dog. And we don’t even know how big this one is gonna get.”

The other man got that spot behind his ear. Oh yeah, that was the stuff. “He’s a corgi. They’re about the same size as a beagle, only chubbier.”

“Yeah well, he’s still a puppy. You really want to deal with pee puddles all over the house?” He asked as he set Ruby down.

The littlest one stomped her foot. “But I like this one!”

“But Rubes, they’re a lot of work and I’m sure there’s a lot of – now don’t give me those doe eyes kiddo. Tai, help me out here!”

Tai, in all his wisdom, turned to his pup and said, “Want to pet him Ruby?”

“Yeah!” She toddled on over, where he showed her how to do the really good scratches.

This was the life.

Leaving the girls to it, Tai rose to his full height, winding an arm around the bird man’s shoulders and tucking him against his side. “It’ll be fine Qrow.”

“You’re such a traitor.” Qrow grumbled.

“I know, I’m the worst.” He conceded, pressing his lips against his temple.

There was a long, slow sigh. “I guess then we’re getting-” He squinted at the paperwork that hung from his cage. “Puppy Two? What kind of name is that?”

“Maybe he goes number 2 a lot!” The older of the girls said.

Ruby’s nose wrinkled up. “Eeeew Yang!”

“You know,” Tai started thoughtfully, “If there’s a puppy one we could get him a friend and- mghpfa!”

Qrow cut him off by shoving his hand in his face. “Just go sign the paperwork already!”

Even when the door came open, and he was lifted up out of the cage, he wasn’t quite sure it was real until he was being taken out of the facility altogether and the big, wide world was in his eyes. Then it was speeding past his eyes, as the large machine he had been placed in moved at speeds he couldn’t comprehend.

“Oh wow! What was that? Oh, and that! Did you see that?” He asks the girls as he hopped between their laps, trying to look out the window.

“Yang, try to keep hold of him!” Tai called from the front seat of the contraption. “He’ll get hurt if he falls.”

“’Kaaay.”

Suddenly, a grip stronger than a choke chain was around his middle and he found himself firmly pinned down. He wiggled about, but there was no give.

Ruby pat his backside. “He’s got a funny butt.”

Well now, that was just rude.

There was a guffaw from Qrow. “Speaking of Mr. Funny Butt, s’pose we better name him.”

His ears perked. A name? Just like the other dogs had? He wouldn’t have to be known as mutt or pup or orphan anymore? He wagged his clipped tail excitedly.

“Oh, oh! I was thinking Cerberus.” Tai offered. “Doesn’t that sound intimidating?”

“Dad, that sounds dumb.” Yang was wiggling her fingers along his side, prompting him to roll over and – oh, tummy rubs really were everything the other dogs said they were.

“Ouch. Well little missy, you got a suggestion?”

“Uppercut!”

From his upside-down position, he saw the way the man looked back, then to the bird man sitting beside him.

Qrow glanced up from the lit-up square he was holding. “Don’t look at me! I’m not the one teaching her.”

“I wanna name him Strawberry!” Ruby cut in. She had grabbed hold of one of his paws and was squishing down the pads. It felt kind of weird.

Tai turned back to the window. “That’s a good one. We’ll think about that one sweetheart.”

Yang started to flap his ears around, which made it a little hard to hear Qrow when he spoke up again. “How about Dos?”

“Dos?” Tai echoed. “Like dose of medicine?”

He stuck out his tongue. Most of the choices had gone right over his head. But he did know what medicine was. The sickly dogs told him to beware if a human ever used that term, because that meant they were going to force feed him something gross.

“No. D-O-S. It’s an old Valian language. It means two.”

“Alright well, uncle Qrow has decided to be unhelpful, so keep ‘em coming girls.”

Similar to the way the anticipation would overwhelm the shelter whenever a human walked in, his new pack seemed to have the same habit of yapping over one another.

“Blackie!” Ruby called.

Then, Qrow. “Don’t like that one? How about Ni?”

Tai, snipping back, “We are not naming him knee!”

“At least call him roundhouse.” Yang’s voice was getting a little shrill.

“No! No martial arts moves!”

Ruby, again: “Palm strike!”

“Yeah sis!” The slap of the girls’ hands made him jump a little.

“Okay you two are banned too. We’re naming him Cerberus.”

“Noooo!”

Oh, he knew this cry! He pulled his head back, howling with them.

In the wake of the noise, silence followed, all eyes on him. He looked around, confused. Why had they stopped?

Then, all at once, the four of them started to laugh. He knew it was the human’s way of wagging their tails, since they lacked them and all. So, he wiggled and yipped, feeling more like he belonged then he ever thought possible.

Eventually, Qrow’s game won out. The name, his name, was chosen just as the contraption rolled to a stop.

“Hey, how about this one? Zwei.”

Tai drummed his fingers along the circle he was holding onto, looking up with a frown. “I hate how much I like that.”

“Hah! See, and you were making fun of me.” He twisted around, looking back at them. “What do you think rugrats? Is Zwei a keeper?”

“Yes!” Ruby chimed in.

Yang gave it more thought. “Zwei as in…” She smooshed his face, tapping their noses together, “Zwei’re you so cute?”

“…I regret everything.” Qrow looked like someone just stole his nest. Beside him, Tai doubled over, barking with more laughter.

From that day on, he was part of the pack.

Four months and eight days after his adoption, any lingering doubts he had left about his place among his newfound pack were completely abolished.

“Come on Zwei,” Ruby whispered to him as she opened up the back door, giggling behind her hand. He’d come to learn that was a sign that they were going out to play.

So he rushed around her feet and into the backyard, paws immediately sinking into the muddy trail that had been caused by a passing storm. It was still rather dreary overhead and he could scent the petrichor coming from the surrounding flora. His packmate ran past him, heading around the shed with the same sense of purpose she got when she was stealing treats out of the cupboard for the two of them. Were there some back there too?

“Wait for me!” He called, bounding after her in excitement. As he came around the back, he found what had captured Ruby’s attention so. Behind the shed was a lake-sized puddle, caused by the way the land dipped ever so slightly. She was already ankle deep in the water, gathering up globs of mud and setting it on the grass in a pile.

When he approached, she told him, “I’m making mud pies!”

Oh, that was a type of food! Tai had made it before. It had been something really sweet smelling that he wasn’t allowed to have.

He hears Ruby’s giggles when he practically sticks his nose right in, taking a deep breath. Just as quickly, he pulls away with a huff of displeasure. Definitely not for eating.

“Mud Pie Zwei!”

He perked up at his name, only to hunker down as the next handful of mud is deposited on his back. When Ruby dips her hands back in, he hurries away before she can load on more. He could feel the thick of it weighing down his fur and the wet of it sliding down his haunches. It wasn’t pleasant at all, so he shook himself to fling most of it off.

“That was gross!” He barks, which only seemed to increase her laughter.

Well. Two can play it that game.

He leaps with as much distance his little legs can provide, landing in the puddle with a big splash.

“Zwei!” Ruby shrieks, her dress now covered in wet spots and mud.

He wades towards her, taunting back, “What are you gonna do now?”

If he didn’t know better, he would have thought she truly understood him what with the way she responded by scooping her hands in the water and throwing it at him. In retaliation, he races around her, little waves kicking up in his wake. At the edge he pauses, lowering down on his forepaws until his chin brushes the water, waiting to see what his packmate would do next.

“Oh, it is ON!” She hollers, charging for him.

“Bring it!” He challenged right back, darting to the side and ducking around her when she tries to make a grab for him.

It begins a game of chase; one he’d already grown quite familiar with and one he was certain to lose. Ruby was bigger and faster than him, spirited like Skystorm had been. The rest of their pack didn’t appreciate that level of liveliness like he could. He was always happy to engage her, finding new, creative ways to escape her clutches before she ultimately snatched him up. Today he was trying to zig-zag the same way he saw that little black snake move in the garden; until his pack alpha crushed it into black smoke under his boot, that is.

It seemed his new trick was his best yet, because Ruby was having to scramble after him. “Hah, can’t catch me!” He called back at her, dashing for the tree line.

“Zwei don’t go in the – ah!”

He heard a yelp and the feet coming after him abruptly stopped.

Then, a more terrifying noise boomed over his senses, “Zwei! Come!”

He slid to a stop so fast, he somersaulted over his paws, landing on his back hard enough to make the air in his lungs whoosh out. He tilted his head back, looking at the upside-down view of his secondary alpha, his near permanent frown more pronounced than usual. He hadn’t even heard him approach! What kind of hunting skill was that?

“What were you thinking?” Qrow demanded of the young pup he had under his arm. “I’ve told you a thousand times not to go into the forest!”

Ruby wiggled valiantly in his grasp to no avail. “We weren’t gonna!”

“Ain’t gonna believe that when you already broke the ‘no going outside today’ rule.” He looked up, then pointed down aggressively. “Zwei, I said come!”

Obediently, he rolled over, slinking forward with a pitiful whine that sometimes got him out of trouble. “We were just having fun, honest.”

Qrow had never been quite as movable as his other alpha though, only scooping him up under his other arm and storming back for the house. “Gods you’re both a mess. I’m throwing you in the tub.”

“Nooooo!” He howled with Ruby.

Beyond a gripe about ‘thinking more before they go running into mud’, the alpha largely ignored them, hauling them upstairs. He paused only long enough to peek into one of the bedrooms. A little lump of blankets on one of the beds trembled every now and again and a loud hacking started up.

Some of the tension on his scary face finally melted, his voice a gentle timbre when he speaks, “How you doing firecracker?”

“M’okay.” She snuffled back from her hiding place.

“Okay. I got to get these escape artists into the bath – but holler if you need anything alright?”

“I will.”

Zwei’s ears dropped when her hacking started up anew. It had been just a small thing this morning, but now she sounded worse than some of the dogs back at the shelter when they got plagued by kennel cough.

He didn’t have long to dwell on it, as Qrow continued on his way, kicking the bathroom door shut with his foot before setting them on the bathroom rug. “Alright, clothes off.”

Rather than listen, Ruby crossed her arms and sat down stubbornly. He walked the few steps it took to join her, plopping down as well.

Their alpha sighed, stepping over them to get the water started. “Kiddo, work with me here.”

“No!”

An agitated hand ruffled through his hair until it seemed more like a puffed-up cat tail. “How about for a scoop of strawberry ice cream?” Rather than answer, she held up two fingers. “…Who taught you this level of swindling? Fine! Two it is. But no telling your dad.”

“Deal!” She hopped up, throwing off one of her layers and dropping it with a wet plop on the ground.

“Hey wait!” Zwei stomped over to Qrow. “What do I get?”

Apparently it was to be picked up and dropped into the tub. The water was just enough to cover his paws. He scrambled for the edge of the basin, too small to actually make it over. He wasn’t left alone for long, Ruby eventually climbing in beside him, all her normal, colorful furs gone. The water eventually rose up until it touched his chin, and he had to paddle a bit to get around – not that there was anywhere to go.

Zwei didn’t really like baths. The water was warm, but the ground underneath his feet was hard to stand on, causing him to slip and sometimes water would go up his nose when that happened. Then there was the shampoo. It was some really awful smelling, awful tasting stuff that would get lathered into his fur. The stink of it would overwhelm him, his own, better scent being cancelled out by the gunk. Even when he rolled it out into the grass, it persistently clung to him for days.

So no, he didn’t like baths. He especially didn’t like Qrow’s version. He was too rough. His fingers would score through his fur like he was trying to rip it away and he’d push the undercoat in all the wrong ways until it left everything kind of hurting. Today was no different.

“Ow, ow, ow!” He wailed. “That’s too hard!”

The scrubbing, if possible, got worse. “Quit bellyaching, we’re almost done.”

“He’s kind of a baby, isn’t he?” Ruby asked from her side of the tub, trying to turn her bubbly head fur into sticks just like a porcupine.

“I am not a baby!”

“Oi, don’t jump Zwei!”

“You know, this is a lot of racket for a bath.” The final voice was new, but familiar.

His tail started to wag immediately, slipping out of Qrow’s grip so he could hop and get a look at his other alpha. “Welcome home! I missed you!”

“Hi daddy!” Ruby greeted.

“Hey there.” Tai said, stepping into the bathroom. He peered down at his mate inquisitively. “Need help?”

“Please.”

The response was a jovial laugh as the man rolled up his sleeves and settled down beside him. Zwei felt a little jealous when he attended to Ruby. “Were you causing trouble for your uncle?”

“Nuh-huh. I behaved!”

Qrow snorted, resuming his torture. Ignoring Zwei’s calls of displeasure, he instead spoke to his mate. “You find the medicine?”

“Yeah. Gave it to Yang before coming in here. Tip your head back honey.” Tai poured a small pitcher full of water down Ruby’s head, using his hand as a shield to keep any from falling into her eyes. As he scooped up more of the bathwater to douse her again, he continued, “We’ll have to keep an eye on her fever. We might want to let her sleep with us tonight.”

“No fair! I wanna sleep with you guys!”

As his chin was lifted up, Zwei huffed out, “Me too.”

“Tell you what Rubes,” Qrow said as he took the pitcher that was handed over to him, going through the motions with him now. “Why don’t you and I have a little sleepover of our own? We can set up a fort in the guest room and everything.”

Her face lit up. “Really?”

Zwei’s ears fell. Of course the alpha would do that – Ruby was so obviously his favorite pup. Looks like he was stuck downstairs. Alone. Again.

“Yeah. We can even bring the little scamp here.”

He blinked back as Qrow looked down at him. Wait… did he mean…?

“Just don’t have an accident and make me regret it, you got that mutt?”

He did. He did! His whole body practically vibrated with the force of his excitement, jumping out of his grasp so he could lick his hand. “I’ll be good, I promise!”

Qrow drew his hand back immediately. “Ack gross!”

Tai’s boisterous laughter echoed, before he reached out for his pup. “Come on Ruby. You’re done.” He lifted her up and out of the tub, wrapping her up in a towel and walking out of the room. “You want me to help you pick out an outfit?”

“I want my combat skirt!”

“Alright, alright…”

It wasn’t long before Zwei followed her out, draped in a towel of his own and brought downstairs. A fire was made in the hearth to combat the chill settling in as the day waned on. Eventually, that’s where he found himself stretched out in front of for his midday-play nap, stirring only when his pack moved about.

Nothing managed to rouse him completely until a commotion started up in the next room and he awoke to a day much darker than before. Ruby and Yang were on the couch, the latter curled up in a miserable ball as they watched their colorful moving pictures on the television.

He got to his feet, stretching out with a long yawn, before he trotted over to the kitchen. His alpha pair were both there. Qrow was sitting on the counter by the sink, sipping an amber liquid in a short glass and watching his mate as he fussed about the stove. Whatever Tai was making smelt absolutely delicious, like chicken and rice kibble but more refined and fresher. Mouth watering, Zwei slunk underneath the dining table chairs and emerged just into their sight. He sat himself down at the edge of the rug, making sure not even a claw touched into the ‘Never Ever Cross While Alpha is Cooking’ section of the kitchen.

“Can I have some?” He beseeched lowly.

Tai looked over his shoulder, smiling brightly. “There’s my good boy! Up!”

He sat up on his hind legs, snatching the morsel that was tossed to him in his jaws. He savored the scrap of chicken slowly, licking his chops once he’d swallowed it.

“Good catch!” His alpha praised him, before turning back to his work. When Qrow started to shift off the counter, he pointed a knife towards him. “And where are you going? We weren’t done.”

It seemed his mate thought they were, with the way he scoffed. “Look, if you want to ground her so bad, you do it.”

Zwei had come to realize that breeding pairs were very strange. Or perhaps maybe just his were; he certainly couldn’t make heads or tails of their lack of pheromonal compatibility. More critically was in how little they ran the pack like a unit. It made for a rather confusing predicament when Tai would let him nestle on the armchair – but Qrow would absolutely not tolerate it. He had to wonder if his other packmates ever felt the same.

Tai’s sigh was tinged with a rarely heard frustration. “It’s not about the punishment, it’s about who’s giving it. I can’t keep punishing the girls for rules you lay down.”

“Why not? You’re the dad here.”

“You really think Ruby hasn’t figured out that when you’re the only one home, she can get away with whatever she wants?”

Qrow snorted, downing his drink and setting it on the counter he’d vacated. “She’s six Tai. Not exactly in her prime to be a master manipulator.”

“No.” He set down the knife, turning to him fully. “But that doesn’t mean she’s dumb.”

Coming to the conclusion no other treats were coming his way, Zwei laid down on the rug, head between his paws, mostly tuning them out as they carried on. Maybe he should just take his post-nap nap. He was just starting to drift, when one particularly loud shout had him jolting out of his daze.

“Oh so I just don’t care, is that it?”

“I didn’t say that! And keep your voice down.” Tai shushed. “I know you love them, Qrow. I just… don’t understand why you want to turn them against me.”

His mate jerked back a bit, as if struck. “What in Gods’ name are you talking about?”

“Can you really not see where this will eventually go?”

With a long exhale, Zwei settled again, listening to them with only half an ear. This wasn’t the first growling match they’d partaken in, but he wasn’t worried by it. For the outcome was as certain as the sun would be rising tomorrow.

“I don’t see what the big deal is.” Right on time, Qrow’s tone shifted as did his body. Away. Vulnerable. If he had a tail, he was positive it would be tucked between his legs. “It’s not like you have anything to lose.”

Tai tilted his head, as if trying to figure if the words truly came from him. “Okay, what are you talking about?”

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter.” He tried to retreat, only to be stalled by a hand suddenly on his shoulder.

“No. Come on don’t-” A sigh. “Do you really think the girls will just cast you aside just ‘cause you have to be tough on them sometimes?”

The answer was so soft, even Zwei had to strain to hear. “Been thrown out for less.”

“Oh Qrow.” Before the thinner man knew it, Tai was pulling him into what Zwei could only describe as a ‘standing snuggle’. It looked warm and inviting. “There is nothing in this world you could do to make us stop loving you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do know that.” And then Tai said something Zwei would never forget: “Family isn’t a competition where the prize is love. Love just is. You don’t earn it by performing your best, you’re just given it from being here and caring about us just as much as we care about you.”

There were a few more things that were spoken, but the fight was over for sure when the mating pair started licking each other’s mouths. Overzealously, as usual.

But the call for peace, joyful as it was, did not impact Zwei as much as his pack leader’s words. For they washed over him with a great ferocity, reaching in and cleansing him from the inside where Hunter’s dark words still resided in his heart. The fear that had footed there that he would not be wanted finally came loose, strand by strand, until it was hanging by nothing but a thread.

It wasn’t until that night, with Ruby’s head nestled into his back and his nose tucked against the welcome warmth of Qrow’s side, that the final root broke as the words finally hit home.

There may be a lot he lacked, but no amount of skills compared to the simple act of just being there. The one thing he knew with absolute certainty was that love was something he could give this family without end.

So no, he wasn’t fierce like a Doberman. Or noble like a shepherd. Or even charming like a poodle.

He was just Zwei. And that’s all he needed to be.

#zwei #taiyang xiao long #qrow branwen #taiqrow #taiqrowweek #ruby rose #yang xiao long #rwby #fanfiction #Chase Firekitten's Tale #...These tags sure are odd this time around xD

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neostar-entertainment · 5 years ago

Text

title: starry night

pairing: taehui-centric

summary: a journey through taehui’s mind from the start of his career in the music industry, while trying to discover himself: from a clueless kid to a man who could have it all.

notes: warning for discussions of mental health!

2006.

It felt like everything Taehui had been working towards was finally coming alive. SM Entertainment, after years of Taehui training, had informed the sixteen year old he would be debuting in a few months, in the first quarter of the new year.

Packing up his things, and throwing his backpack on, Taehui left the practice room with the proudest smile he had ever worn. Shit hadn’t always been easy, and that wasn’t a shocker. Being a trainee isn’t a walk in the park, nor is it close to being something that Taehui found himself genuinely enjoying taking a part of. Yes, he was determined to work hard to get where he wanted, and he was sure all his effort would be worth it. But, certain days it felt harder to bring himself to go practices, go to lessons, and do everything that was expected of him.

He couldn’t tell if it was something he could blame on the part of his mind that loved playing with the concept of making things worse than it seems to be.

Taehui shook his head, trying to dispel any thoughts like that at the moment-although a part of him was sure they’d be back sooner than later. His right hand holding onto the straps of his backpack as tightly as it could, he bolted out of the building, writing a small text to his father to deliver the news.

He let his mind wonder how his father, Taehyung, would react. Taehui wasn’t expecting anything less than supportive, because truth be told if it wasn’t for his father he wasn’t sure he’d be exactly where he was at. It was awkward at the start of their relationship, especially due to the fact that Taehui was educated that his dad did not want custody over him originally. The uncomfortable glances, the hesitated questions, the stubborn silence that refused to leave.

But as time progressed, so did their relationship. His father became his best friend, albeit a bit too awkward at times, Taehui was happy to have someone after losing his mother. The moment the text delivered, his phone began vibrating with a call. A small immediately painted across Taehui’s phone as he raised the phone to answer.

“You’re finally debuting?!”

“Yes!” Taehui’s smile was as bright as the stars that were beginning to illuminate the sky, “They said it’s only a few months away!”

“Fuck yeah! I-No, Ms. Jung it’s okay, it’s about Taehui.” Taehui laughed to himself as his father told his secretary the news. “How about I pick you up and we can go for a celebratory dinner?”

“That’d be-wait, don’t you have work to do? You don’t even come home anymore until really late.” Taehui’s didn’t mean to sound accusatory at all and before he could spit out an apology his father’s laughter filled his ears.

“It’s fine. I can take off early one day for you, Hui. I’ll pick you up outside of the normal spot?”

“Yup!” Taehui didn’t mean to sound like a childhood who was asked if they wanted desert, letting out a cough, he repeated the same word with a more deeper tone, “Yup.”

“Dork. I’ll be there in about 20 minutes, if traffic isn’t too bad. Please stay indoors.”

“Understood, boss.” Taehui had to hold himself back from giving a salute when they were talking over the fucking phone. His face flushed as he hurried back inside, his mind and heart racing with excitement like never before.

2009.

Debuting under SM was a dream come true for Taehui...for a solid few months. When his debut didn’t pull as much attention as SM had hoped, worries were already up in the air. However, Taehui was determined to prove his worth by putting his best foot forward.

Yet, it felt like every time Taehui attempted to step up to the plate, it was met with him running into a brick wall. When he suggested producing and creating his own music to show his musicality to the public, he was told that they didn’t want to risk anything with an amateur behind the music. When he tried to get on variety shows to get the public’s interest in him to rise, management told him he didn’t have the personality to do any shows by himself.

When his first comeback didn’t do any better than his debut, it felt like Taehui was thrown onto the backburner. No news came out any type of promotion or comeback, a year after his comeback. Whenever he asked about anything he was told that something was being planned.

Around the time it was getting close to two years without any news or any type of promotion, Taehui went to his dad and both of them managed to get Taehui’s contract nullified.

That’s how Taehui ended up in the balcony of his penthouse, sitting right on the glass rail with one of his legs hanging off the edge.

“Mind getting down from there, before you give your old man a heart attack?” his dad's voice was gentle, causing Taehui to snap his head towards him as we came onto the balcony as well.

Taehui hurriedly brought his other leg off the rail, hopping off and walking towards his dad and taking the cup of hot tea in his hands. “Thanks.”

“Of course, kid.” Hui’s father gestured to the two chairs for them to sit together.

“What’s up?”

“So I’ve been thinking…” Taehyung grinned as he let the silence build up just to see Taehui pout, “What if, you created your own company?”

“I-uh...what?”

“You’re an adult this year, so that’s not an issue-”

“I know, but...a whole company?”

“I mean,” Taehyung brought the cup to his lips as he took a sip as he put a hand on-top of Taehui’s trying to reassure the kid who looked like his mind was running crazy. “Don’t think I’m trying to make you or anything. It’s all up to you, Hui. I’ve thought about it recently, and it’s definitely a possibility, especially if you still want to pursue music.”

Taehui remained silent, looking down at the tea in his cup, his mind wandering all over the place.

“I’m just…”

“Scared?”

Taehui weakly nodded, as his cheeks flushed with a soft pink tint showcasing his slight embarrassment regarding his feelings.

“You won’t be alone. You’ll have me with, Hui, always.” the reassurance in his father’s voice made Taehui look up, seeing the sincerity in his eyes felt overwhelming in a sense. His eyes swelled up with tears, rashly lowering his head again.

“Hey, buddy…” he felt his father get up from his seat and crouch down next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “I didn’t mean for it to be so pressuring-”

“No. I-I’m not...That’s not why.” Taehui quickly rubbed his eyes, wanting any tears that were threatening to fall to disappear. “I’m just...fuck-”

“Hey, no cursing, kid.” The teasing tone in his dad’s voice made him smile while he chuckled, pulling his hands away from covering his eyes.

“Give me time to think about it?”

“Of course!” Taehyung pulled him into a side-hug, “Just breathe, right now. Take as much time as you need, I’ll do some more research about it in the meantime. It’ll sound pretty nice for both son and father being CEOs of their own companies, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Taehui rolled his eyes sarcastically, his mind trailing into the thought of the possibility of having his own company.

2015.

If you had told Taehui that he’d be leaving SM Entertainment, only to shortly create his own company to pursue his music career at the age of 20, he’d tell you you’re full of shit. If you had decided to throw in the fact that he’d be reaching the status of one of the better-known soloists in the industry, taking awards during some of the biggest award shows in South Korea’s music industry, he’d laugh his ass off.

However, after he had decided to establish his own company, under the guide of his father, that’s exactly what happened. Taehui already had netizen’s attention with him re-debuting after leaving, and he used it to his advantage with the numerous releases he threw out during his debut in 2013. Each one had managed to garner more and more attention than the previous, showing the interest the general public had in him, and Taehui decided to use that to his advantage.

Winning MNet’s award for best new artist helped solidify Taehui’s new status in the industry, and his ever-growing music show wins proved his power amongst the competition.

As Taehui laid in the backyard of his house, his eyes focused on stars that were scattered along the night sky, a smile spread across his face. It had been 5 official years of him trying to make it in the industry, and Taehui felt like he was exactly where he wanted to be.

He felt like he had everything he possibly wanted and even more.

Taehui simply felt something that had been chasing for a few years: happiness.

2016.

“I’m shocked you’ve decided to create your own groups,” Taehui’s father spoke as they both sat down in the restaurant for dinner, “Didn’t feel like that long ago you were crying over re-debuting yourself.”

“Dad.” Taehui’s cheeks heated up almost instantly, causing his father to let out a laugh. “I’m 26 now, I was a kid back-”

“Didn’t you just become an adult then?”

“You’re pure evil.” Taehui squinted his eyes, pointing at his chopsticks at his father’s direction, snorting as his father gasped dramatically.

“The same evil that’s helped you get where you are, huh?”

“That exact type of evil.”

Both of the men laughed softly to themselves as they read over the menu, even though Taehui had already memorized all the entrees from coming here so many times with his dad.

“So why the sudden interest in helping others debut under you?”

“Uh,” Taehui looked up through his eyelashes. “Not really sudden. I just...I’ve been thinking and I’ve been really grateful for everything that’s happened-”

“That you’ve worked tremendously hard for.”

“Yeah, of course, but still. If there’s a chance I can do the same for other people, why not? I’m sure not if I’m gonna fall flat on my face with this idea, but there’s always a possibility it’ll end well. Can you imagine that? Just creating a safe space for others too?”

A comfortable silence faded across the atmosphere, Taehyung nodding along to what his son had said. It was the truth. Taehui knew the stress he’s endured, and the scares he’s dealt with whilst being under a company that wasn’t his own. He knows how taxing it can be at first hand, how much it can weigh on someone to the point where giving up on a dream seems simpler. If Taehui can eliminate that for anyone looking to make it in the industry, he’d at least be willing to try.

“Just...don’t forget about yourself. It’ll be great if you can pull this off successfully, however, living just to make others happy isn’t ideal. Make sure you stay happy too.”

“Yeah, of course-”

“Are you still going to therapy?”

Taehui grunted a response, his eyes faltering from the direction of his head.

“Taehui.”

“Yes. I’m going.”

“It’s not something-”

“To be ashamed about, I know. It’s just...annoying sometimes.”

“It helps though, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“You haven’t thought about…”

“No, God no. I can’t even remember the last time I thought about that.”

“Good, good.” Taehui’s dad nodded, leaning forwards to take a sip out of his drink. His bluntness was always something Taehui wanted from him, just to say whatever was on his mind without hesitating. “Also...you got enough money to fund all these idols?”

“Yeah, of course! I have enough money planned and I’ve been talking to some of the people you’ve told me to, and I’ve been contacting some investors to see if they’d be willing to do anything in regards to that as well.”

“Great,” the teasing smile of his father’s face caused Taehui to roll his eyes dramatically, “just don’t come to me if everything fails.”

“Oh, please. You’d run over to help.”

“I’m not a billionaire-”

“Close to it.”

“If you fail with this, I’ll have a job ready as my assistant.”

“The evil is back again!”

#kumokocnet #kocsociety #fake kpop #fake kpop idol #oc kpop idol #oc kpop band #idol!au #idol!oc #oc kpop soloist #c: taehui #i FEEL LIKE THIS IS TERRIBLE #maybe ill delete #i just wanted to throw out taehui content aslkdjasldkj #we'll see hhh #anyways taehui and his dad are a dream duo omg rich lil fuckers #adopt me challenge

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