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riamaple · 1 month ago

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Life on Your Line (Ch. 2)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Summary: Cursed to sacrifice your life to save another, you were never able to connect with others, always meant to drift before you could belong. Death was all you knew. Then, one day in Brooklyn, you saved a young man, and for some reason, you kept seeing him again. And again. And again. No matter where you went, across decades, you always found your way back to him.

He was forced to live to destroy, you were forced to die to save—bound together in ways neither of you could understand.

Warnings: Angst (with an eventual happy ending). Death and Dying. Self-Sacrifice (Immortality / Resurrection). Canon-Typical Violence / Description of Wounds. Suicidal Thoughts. Implications and References to Child Death, Suicide, Self-Destructive Behavior / Self-Harm.

< PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Word Count: 4.3k

CHAPTER 2: March 1944 - March 1945

March 15, 1944. 6:23 PM

Minnie passed away a few nights ago. That old hag finally did it. She’s with Lewis now, resting while the rest of us are left to wonder if this war will ever end.

We had the funeral two days ago. It was small and quiet, just like how she would’ve wanted it. Everyone was crying, myself included. My best friend is gone and I don’t think I’ll ever stop missing her.

I didn’t write about any of this until now because I wasn’t in the right frame of mind. I was sad, but mostly angry. I’m so happy for Minnie, but I can’t help but feel jealous of her. We were both supposed to grow old together, but now she’s in the ground while I’m still stuck out here. Every day, I check to see if I have a strand of gray hair and of course, I don’t.

I did get a pleasant surprise. Becca stopped by with a whole box of pastries that her mother had made for me and Laura. It was very sweet of them to do that. They even made me some eclairs, my absolute favorite. Laura hasn't been working this week — she’s grieving over Minnie while wondering if her son will survive the war — so I promised Becca I’d bring some of the sweets to her.

This young lady has become an avid reader and she’s always asking me for book recommendations. It was slow at first, with her coming back a few months after she got her first book. She didn’t say, but I think it took a while because she was still upset about her brother leaving for Europe. But since she’s come back, she’s stopped by once a month. I don’t do it for anyone else, but I also started to let her borrow the books. As long as she brings them back in perfect condition, she doesn’t have to pay for them. Who am I to stop a young lady from reading?

I finally did ask Becca about her brother. Turns out his name is James, though everyone — even the papers — calls him Bucky. Becca calls him Jimmy, which I think is sweet. She said it’s been a bit since they’ve heard from him, but he’s now a part of the Howling Commandos with Captain America, fighting proudly for our freedom.

I was also shocked to find out that Captain America was the blonde boy with the balloon from all those years ago. That skinny, tiny kid is now America’s hero and the boy I saved is part of his unit. Funny how the world works.

You stopped writing for a moment.

I’m ashamed to admit it, but I think about James more than I want to. I’ve been living with this curse for many decades, yet he’s the only person whom I’ve saved who recognized me. I’ve done a pretty decent job of avoiding people from my past, but the very few I’ve met never seemed to recognize me. They’ve all looked at me strangely, of course, but never said anything about it in the end. Why would they? They all believed I had died.

But James… He’s the only one who saw me for me. Who looked at my face and knew that I was the one who saved him. He still is the only one.

It pained me to lie to him.

I barely know him, but…maybe, if I’m brave enough one day, I could tell him the truth. I’d love to sit down with him and chat over a cup of coffee. Give him the decency and say that, yes, I did save you all those years ago. You were right. It was me.

The bell jiggled, taking your attention away from your journal to the front door. You smiled at a woman who walked in, somewhere in her forties with brown hair, looking around the cozy interior of Riverside Bookshop.

You smiled at her warmly. “Hello. Welcome to Riverside. My name is Doris,” you said, motioning toward the shelves behind you. “We’re about to close soon, but let me know if you need anything.”

The woman smiled back, her eyes scanning the shelves as she wandered through the aisles. It wasn’t unusual for customers to stop by just before closing, searching for one last book to take home. You had done the same when you were younger—well, younger.

After a few moments, the woman pulled a book from one of the lower shelves. It was an old one, but also the kind that had been loved and read over the years. Its edges frayed and the cover was fading, but the woman still carried it to the front desk with a soft smile.

“That’s a lovely choice,” you commented. “One of my personal favorites. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.”

She chuckled, and you could tell by her eyes that she was excited to dive into it. She paid for the book, thanking you again as you handed her the change.

“Have a good evening,” you called after her, stepping back behind the counter to finish closing up for the night.

It was too late to go to Henry’s and store your journal there. For just this night, you allowed yourself to believe the store wouldn’t somehow catch on fire and burn your writing, so you tucked your journal into one of the drawers. You dimmed the lights, turned the sign on the door to ‘Closed,’ adjusted your bag and exited.

You locked the front door just as a sharp scream echoed through the night air, pulling your attention to the empty streets.

Something tugged at your heart.

You ran as fast as you could down the street until you reached a dark alley, where you saw her—the woman who just bought a book—struggling against a man who had her by the throat.

He had a knife in the other hand.

Decades ago, you would’ve hesitated—run away even—but now you were already right next to them, swinging your bag at the man. Too distracted by the woman, he stumbled back as you hit him on the head. He faltered briefly, but then lunged at you with his knife. You quickly moved to your right, letting him fall against the wall while you grabbed the woman’s hand and bolted back into the street.

Once you were further down the street, you slowed down while the woman gasped for air. You looked behind to see if the man was following, and sighed deeply when you saw that he wasn’t.

“My goodness,” the woman said, rubbing at her throat as she looked at you. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

You forced out a smile, making sure to keep your left side hidden from her view. “You’re welcome. You should head home now—before it gets too dark,” you said quietly, stepping back.

She nodded, still breathing heavily, and quickly stepped away. But the moment she began to leave, you immediately pressed your hand against your side and walked the other way. The ground beneath you seemed to sway, but you kept moving, one step at a time. The pain in your side grew unbearable, but you pushed forward.

You found a quiet alley quickly, away from the streetlights, and collapsed against the wall. Gasping, you hid behind a couple of crates as you raised your hand, examining the blood staining your fingers. You closed your eyes, letting the cool night air wash over you. The sounds of the city faded, and the sharp pain in your side became all-consuming.

You let yourself release one last breath, wondering if you needed to find a new name.

<><><>

You opened your eyes to the biting cold, immediately feeling a familiar ache in your side. You blinked awake, grimacing at the uneven, almost rocky surface you were lying on. You murmured a curse at the world underneath your breath; it wasn’t the first time you woke up in an uncomfortable place. But as you slowly took in the sky and leaves looming over you, the faint scent of pine trees mixed with the damp earth invaded your nose, and you gulped.

You immediately sat up, breathing raggedly while looking around to see that the rugged peaks of unfamiliar mountains surrounded you. This wasn’t your home. This wasn’t Brooklyn. Where the hell were you—

A deafening explosion shattered the silence, causing you to scream and scramble to your feet. You spun around to find cover, choosing to duck behind a large boulder while your breaths came in frantically. There were a few more explosions, followed by gunshots and yelling, and you couldn’t make sense of what was happening.

You had died nearly a hundred times—letting yourself get stabbed, shot, trampled for the sake of others, only to wake up a month later in your home. You were no longer afraid of death, but this was different. You had never woken up anywhere else but your home, where the familiar smell of old wood and novels greeted you. But here, only the freezing wind and echoes of explosions seemed to shake the ground under your feet.

You trembled as the gunshots came closer—you had no idea what you were supposed to do. There was no place to hide, no familiar faces, no quiet corner to retreat to. You peered cautiously over the edge of the boulder, trying to make sense of your surroundings. But then, your breath caught in your throat as you spotted a young man running in the distance.

Your heart jumped at the sight of James, his face streaked with dirt and his uniform torn in places. He heaved with a pained expression as he dove behind another boulder.

Why was he here?

No. Why were you there with him?

James’s hands trembled as he reloaded his rifle, his eyes scanning the distance through the scope. Sweat beaded on his brow despite the cold, and every muscle in his body screamed at him to rest, though he didn’t have a second to spare. He tried to keep his breath even, but his lungs burned as he tried to spot the enemy.

He had been hiding before, silently taking down any HYDRA soldier who got too close to Steve or the rest of the Howling Commandos. He tried to be careful, but then one of the soldiers caught a glint of metal from his rifle and threw a grenade at him. James barely managed to brace himself behind cover before the explosion went off, and he was forced to run. He had no idea where his combat unit was—it was just him and a bunch of HYDRA operatives in the mountains. And as much as he was a skilled sharpshooter who had killed most of them by this point, he was getting close to his limits.

James squinted, peering through the scope once more. A soldier emerged from behind a pile of rocks and he didn’t hesitate. The shot rang out and the HYDRA soldier dropped to the ground. Quickly reloading his rifle, he tried to spot the last two soldiers before they could catch him off guard.

When he couldn’t see them, he quickly ducked low behind another boulder as he felt that his position was getting vulnerable. But then, before he could settle into his new spot, an explosive hit too close to him. The shockwave threw him off his feet and he tumbled, yelping as he rolled down the slope.

Pain shot through his side when he landed against a tree, and he let out an anguished cry. With his teeth clenched and hands rolled into fists, he hissed while trying to regain control over his body, scrambling to grab his rifle. He saw a blur of movement in the corner of his eye and, without stopping, James spun onto his back and shot at the HYDRA soldier in the distance. He rag-dolled instantly, falling onto the rocky terrain.

Another wave of pain traveled through James’s body, making him groan while he forced himself to stand up. He staggered to the side, his vision blurring for a brief moment, and he slumped back behind another boulder with heavy breaths. He was so exhausted and every fiber of his being begged him to stop, but he couldn’t. There was one last soldier left—the one who kept on shooting explosives in his direction. HYDRA’s weapons were getting more advanced and dangerous as weeks went by, making the rifle in his hands feel a bit fragile.

But he gripped his weapon close before peering out from behind the boulder, scanning the landscape again. He cursed under his breath, because just where the hell was the last—

Another explosion went off. This time, it was too close to him and the heat of the blast threatened to sear his skin, making him recoil. He scrambled backward to avoid getting burned, but then his eyes widened in horror. He stood out in the open, staring at the soldier who was charging his giant, bomb-launching weapon directly at him. This was his plan—get James out of hiding and kill him in plain sight. He was completely exposed and couldn’t avoid this.

He was going to die.

Sorry, Steve.

With a choked breath, James braced himself, waiting for the end when a rush of movement suddenly caught his eye. He turned just in time to see the blur tackle him, wrapping their arms around his body just as the explosion went off. It didn’t directly hit him, but it was close enough to send him tumbling down the slope again.

James yelped as he rolled over a ledge, falling briefly before landing in a large, murky puddle. The freezing water shocked him into focus and he gasped. He gritted his teeth and struggled to sit up, fighting against the exhaustion in his bones, and tried to look for his weapon.

He located his rifle and—

James widened his eyes, staring at your body in another murky puddle. Your body was twisted and you hissed in pain, eyes squeezed shut and limbs shaking as you tried to gather yourself. You had taken the full brunt of the explosion, protecting James from the burns you sustained on your back and sides. The smell of scorched fabric mixed with the damp grass, and blood trickled from the numerous burns and cuts around your body. And your breath—your breath was immensely shallow.

The young man continued to stare, horrified as he tried to process what exactly he was seeing. How could a woman who looked like she was about to go out for a stroll be in the middle of a warzone? James shook his head, leaning close to inspect the stranger.

But as you opened your eyes and he took in your face, he realized that you weren’t a stranger at all. His heart dropped.

“You…” he breathed, his voice quivering. It was you, but…it couldn’t be. No, it wasn't possible. He was in Poland—you were in Brooklyn. How could you—

A couple of pebbles tumbled over the ledge.

James lunged for his weapon, pointing it upwards just as the last soldier emerged. Before the operative could even raise his weapon at him, James pulled the trigger, the crack of his rifle echoing through the land. The soldier dropped over the ledge, falling face down into the wet ground. Panting, James stood up and pointed his gun at the soldier, gazing at him as if he was going to jump up and tackle him. But when the soldier didn’t move, he let out a heavy breath and dropped to his knees. He finally won his battle against the enemy—he survived.

After taking a long, well-deserved breath, his eyes darted back over your body. He grimaced, quickly crawling over to you to assess your wounds. Your skin was covered with raw, red patches, blood gushing from all over to mix with the murky water. Your breathing was quiet, but too slow.

But you continued to stare at him, your eyes barely open but still holding on.

James’s heart was pounding so hard that it felt like it was going to leap out of his chest. He couldn’t understand what was happening— how it was happening. How could you —the same person from the bookstore—be with him right now? Despite the confusion, he shook his head.

“We have to go,” he said urgently. “We can’t stay here.”

With trembling hands, he tried to lift your body, but a horrible noise ripped from your throat the second he did. It wasn’t a quiet yelp or a soft whimper—it was a violent cry that made his heart shatter. He froze—there was no way you could recover. He wouldn't be able to get you help in time.

But that was cruel, because if it wasn’t for you, he would’ve been dead. All of the injuries you were suffering through would’ve been his instead. He let out a shaky breath, his body trembling as he carefully adjusted his hold on you. Tears welled in his eyes—if he couldn’t get help, he could at least let you pass comfortably in his arms, right?

James cradled you in his lap as all he could do was hold you, his hands slick with blood as he felt your chest slowly lose momentum. But as his eyes searched your face, examining the blood that trailed over your cheeks and soaked your hair, he found himself reliving a memory he had wanted to erase from his mind. He bit his lips, struggling to say the right things to you.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. “From Brooklyn… From…from when that car…”

He waited for a response, but you did nothing other than blink, the pain etched in your eyes too morbid for him to handle. He reached up, his hand shaking as he cradled your face, trying to offer some kind of comfort in your last moments.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his lips quivering. “I’m so sorry…”

You only blinked back in response and he briefly looked away from you, a wet breath getting caught in his throat. But then something caught his eye—a pendant hanging loosely on a thin chain around your neck, revealed by the rips in your dress.

It was a locket.

He slowly reached for it and you watched him gently cradle it in his palm, almost admiring it before he opened it. Inside, there was a delicate flower etched into the metal and a tiny inscription beside it that made him pause.

“Rose?” he read softly.

And with that, as James whispered the name that was so dear to your heart, you released one final breath and went still in his arms.

His grip on your body tightened. He let go of the locket, reaching for your face again. When he felt how cold your skin was, he broke. A choked sob tore from his throat, his whole body curling over yours as he hugged you closer.

He didn’t know who you were. He didn’t know why you saved him or how you even found him, but you were real. You had been real.

But now you were gone.

It was really you in that bookstore, from when he decided to give Becca a little bit of joy before he left home. When you looked up at him, his whole world halted from seeing the woman who had shoved him out of the way, taking the full brunt of the car. He was just walking back to his home with Steve, laughing as they carried sandwiches from what they believed to be the best deli in Brooklyn. Then he was on his knees next to your body, begging you to stay awake until help arrived, but you didn’t make it.

And yet, eight years later, he had found you again. In a bookstore that he had planned to stop by for so long, but couldn’t until the last second.

But then, when you said he had mistaken you for someone else, he wanted to believe it. He had to believe it, because how could it have been you?

You had died for him.

But…here, you were in his arms.

And you had died for him again.

James let out a wrecked cry, pressing his forehead against yours. His lips parted, but the words he wanted to say died in his throat. He continued to hold you as if it would bring you back.

“Bucky!”

James lifted his head, hearing his name in the distance. His breath hitched before he looked back at you. He didn’t want to leave you, but…he had to. He had to go.

Carefully, he lowered you to the ground, his hand lingering on your arm before he pushed himself up. He lost his footing briefly, the exhaustion trying to drag him back down, but he steadied himself. He looked at you one more time before staggering to the ledge.

Steve suddenly popped up, looking down and immediately letting out a heavy sigh of relief when spotting his best friend.

“Jesus, Buck.” He jumped down and crushed him in a hug. “Thank God. Are you alright?”

James inhaled sharply, nodding as he tried to reply. “I—” His voice cracked, but he exhaled slowly. “Yeah. I’m alright. I just—”

He looked back at you, but his heart stopped.

Because there was nothing to look back to.

The puddle where you had been lying was empty. No blood, no fabric, no sign of your presence whatsoever.

James stumbled backward, his breath coming in short gasps as his eyes darted around, searching for you. Longing for you.

“Bucky?” Steve frowned, stepping closer carefully. “What’s wrong?”

“I—” He looked down at his hands, smudged with mud and ash.

But there was not a single speck of your blood staining his skin.

<><><>

May 15, 1944. 5:10 AM

I try to write about every person I save, but I can barely remember what happened in that alley with the woman. All I can think about is James.

I saved James for the 2nd time on April 15 and I woke up with the worst pain I’ve ever had all over my skin.

For so many decades, I’ve been giving people second chances — dying for them so that they can go on living. But I have never given someone a third chance, or been sent across the world for them, or had to save two of them back to back. I was gone for 2 months and I feel terrible. Laura was angry and sad and happy when I came back. She cried so much as she believed I died for good even though that can never happen.

I don’t know how I ended up with James. I want to say it shouldn’t be possible, but I don't even know the full extent of my curse. Only the world does.

So tell me, world… Why James? I understand he was going to die, but why him? Henry was in the Great War, scared and tired and no one saved him. Why wasn’t I sent to him? Maybe this is the world’s way of making it up to me. If I wasn’t able to protect Henry, maybe I was given James to protect instead. I don’t mind that.

Because for the first time since I’ve been cursed, I don’t feel like a ghost. When James looked at me — recognized me — I felt real. Even though I had lied to him before, he still made me feel as if I had a proper place in this world. And when he whispered Rose to me, even though that isn’t my name, I felt…wanted.

And he’s the first person who has ever comforted me as I died.

So…maybe he could be the first person I saved to know the truth.

When he comes back to Brooklyn, I will tell him. He deserves to know.

<><><>

March 5, 1945. 4:31 AM

We live in hell.

I found out yesterday that James had died. Becca came in crying and told me the news before I could even ask if she was alright. They got the letter — killed in action — fallen into a ravine. They can’t even bring back his body for a proper funeral.

It’s not fair. It’s just not fair.

I was brought to him a year ago to save him. But why would the world you let me save him twice if you were still going to take him away? Rip him away from his sisters and mother and father? I would say that I can’t imagine how his parents are feeling, but I can. When my baby was taken from me, I wanted to die too.

But this isn’t just about them. James was supposed to be the one stranger I could allow myself to be honest with. But you took him away.

Why would you give me that false sense of hope? Make me believe he would survive? I had to watch Becca fall to the floor crying and I couldn’t even help her. She lost her big brother, but I couldn’t even tell her that I understood her pain without revealing this damn curse you placed on me.

You brought me to him. You WANTED me to save him so much that you sent me out there. Of all people, him. You didn’t even take me to Henry when he needed me. You could have had this whole time and you didn’t. You took me to James instead so that I could give him the chance to go home to his family.

But then you killed him.

If I had known he was going to die, I would’ve at least told him my real name.

Damn you.

Go to hell.

Damn you Fuck you

NEXT CHAPTER >

General Taglist! @a-century-of-sass

Thanks for reading :)

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #marvel #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky x reader #winter soldier #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #the winter soldier #the winter soldier x reader

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watchmegetobsessed · 2 years ago

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UNOFFICIAL

A/N: i know, it's still not the 3rd part of one summer BUT at least it's something new! it is also based on a dream i had about my work crush lol

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

SUMMARY: You and Harry are in a temporary phase of bein unofficial, but you don't mind it, especially the tiny moments you share when no one is looking.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

The pub is buzzing as always, the atmosphere is lively, warm, loud but not too much, most of the tables are occupied by the same usual people, glasses, ful, half full and empty are scattered all over every surface. The bartenders are working relentlessly behind the bar, one drink after the other lands on the counter. It’s not exactly the hottest spot in town, but there’s a core circle that knows and loves the personality of this place and it brings them back every week.

Your group is part of those people, you’ve been spending Friday nights here for as long as you’ve been working at the university, which has been for over two years now. You were fresh out of your PHD studies, very excited to start teaching as a professor finally and who you are lucky enough to call your friends now welcomed you at the school with open arms.

Sarah was the first one you connected with, women in STEM have a deep, instant bond, especially in a male dominant field such as physics. She invited you out for lunch on your first day and introduced you to the rest of the group. Mitch, the quiet but loving husband, Jeff who speaks enough for Mitch and himself as well, Pauli, the energy bomb and then there’s Harry.

It still makes you smile when you think of the first few months of knowing Harry. You were convinced he didn’t like you, because he seemed timid and tense in your presence, almost avoiding having even the simplest conversation with you. One night when the two of you ended up sharing a cab home from the pub and you had just one too many beers you questioned if you’d done anything to upset him.

He looked shocked and explained that he’s just a bit slow to open up to new people and he was also a bit taken aback by you and how extroverted and bubbly you were. He apologized if it all came off wrong, you laughed about it and it was already forgotten.

Since then, you’ve gotten the closest to him. In every way.

Sarah is telling you about a funny encounter she had with a student this week, she always has the weirdest stories, you’re listening to her, but your sixth sense also kicks in and as the door of the pub opens you know it’s Harry even before looking there.

He runs a hand through his hair as he looks around, his glasses fogging up a bit in the hot air of the place after the crispy, chilly october evening he has walked through. He was supposed to leave with all of you but he had to do a last minute consultation with a student, so he just told you to go ahead and he would join you later.

You’re already smiling when he finally spots you and slaloming between the groups of people he finally reaches your table.

“Man, I thought we would have to go back and drag you out of your office,” Jeff teases him as he shrugs his coat off and takes the last empty seat by the table that’s right next to yours. His knee bumps against yours, your eyes meet and you force yourself not to turn into a giggling mess.

You and Harry have been dancing in a kind of a gray, unofficial zone for a while now. After the rocky start your friendship bloomed easily, but since last semester it’s been more than that. You have no idea when or how, but slowly, you just knew you were more than friends. It started with meeting without the rest of the group, having lunch or dinner, making plans, just the two of you, endless conversations, building a connection you’ve probably never had with anyone before. Secret glances, small touches, you fell for him without even realizing.

The past month it’s been intensifying, but you still haven’t talked about it, not even after you kissed a few weeks ago. It happened at your place, so naturally and smoothly, you were cooking together, he had opened a bottle of wine and you were just having a good time, moving around each other in your small kitchen until you ended up pressed up together, noses brushing and he just leaned in and kissed you. It was soft and tender, warm and familiar even though it was a first. Like you were meant to be kissing all along.

Then you just went back to cooking, had dinner and later that night when he left he pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth and that was it. Neither of you felt the need to talk about it, but it’s been definitely hanging there between the two of you, you just haven’t had that last nudge to finally fall over the edge and right into this new adventure.

“Sorry, tried to be as quick as possible,” Harry chuckles as he looks around, his eyes settling on you last and you see a bit of sparkle in his eyes that definitely has your heart skipping a beat.

With Harry’s arrival the group is finally complete and another fun Friday evening starts. You ventilate about work and students, then the boys play darts for a bit, Pauli wins as always and then Jeff challenges Sarah and Mitch to play foosball and see who’s the better player and the rest of you are watching their battle. The place is pretty packed, you’re standing by the foosball table and Harry is right behind you, nursing his second beer of the night. People are passing by towards the toilets and back to the bar, it’s noisy in there, but not too much. Harry’s presence behind you is warm and calming, his chest touches your back whenever someone walks past behind him, but he always pulls back, though you wish he would just stay.

A guy chooses to squeeze past between you and the table, making you move back, bumping against Harry and his hand gently grabs onto your waist, the touch of his palm instantly spreading a buzzing warmth in your body. You fit his front so perfectly and you want to stay like this, but you can already feel his hand moving away, but you grab it and pull it back.

There’s just a split moment of hesitation in him before his whole presence softens and he melts against you, his hand resting on your hip as if it belongs there.

You can’t help the smile that tugs on your lips, especially when he shuffles a bit behind you, his nose brushing into your hair and maybe you’re imagining it, but you swear you feel him kiss the back of your head.

Across the table Pauli just smirks as he catches what’s happening while the Rowlands are playing so determinedly like never before, but he keeps his mouth shut and returns to the game without a word.

Harry’s fingers are gently moving, stroking you as you stay like that, until the end of the game, which Sarah wins. You want to pout when Harry lets go of you because you all move back to your table, but you swallow it back. After the ruthless game Sarah offers to buy a drink for Mitch so they head over to the bar and Pauli soon stands up as well.

“Jeff, come out for a smoke with me,” Pauli pats his shoulders.

“I’m good,” Jeff nods at him, oblivious to the fact that Pauli is trying to give you and Harry some alone time.

“No, you need to come. I wanna talk to you about something.”

You just laugh under your breath as you hear Jeff asking Pauli what’s so important as they make their way outside, leaving you and Harry alone at the table. Neither of you dares to look at the other, not because it would be weird but because you know the pull would be way too strong.

Instead, Harry reaches over, his hand finds yours in your lap and he laces his fingers through yours, resting your intertwined hands on your thigh. For some reason you feel the urge to finally try to address it for the first time.

“Is it still something unofficial?” you ask and dare to look at him.

“We can make it official,” he shrugs with a tiny smirk and you just want to climb over and kiss him stupid when he is being so cheesy.

“I kind of like it being unofficial. Because… it’s just ours for now,” you admit.

There’s nothing you want more than to explore whatever it is that’s between you and Harry, but this phase is so comfortable and only yours, you want to be selfish just for a little bit more and keep it to yourself.

Keep Harry to yourself.

“Unofficial it is,” he chuckles and ignoring the buzzing crowd around, he pulls your hand to his lips and kisses the back of it before letting go of it as Sarah and Mitch approach the table.

For the rest of the night, it’s all just stolen glances, tiny touches underneath the table and no one comments on just how close the two of you are sitting. It’s kind of funny how obvious it is to all of your friends, but they let you stay in your little unofficial bubble just a little longer.

You share a cab home and Harry kisses you on your doorstep before getting back into the car. In the morning he texts you if you want to have dinner together and of course you do. You spend the weekend in your bubble, but soon enough, you slowly dance out of the unofficial phase and by the end of the semester everyone knows that you’re a couple.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb

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biblio-smia · 2 years ago

Text

part one | part two | part three

every piece of you wants to stay, especially as abby looks up at you with big eyes and pouty lips, her small fingers holding onto yours like a lifeline.

"i'm sorry, sweetheart. tonight's not a good night."

abby gives you a heartbreaking look but she lets you go, sputtering out a reluctant, "okay."

there's a different look on mike's face (though you suspect it's in a similar strain) but you offer him a smile and a soft kiss on the cheek before he steps back inside and shuts the door behind you.

though regret settles in his chest quickly and only intensifies with each unanswered ring of the phone as he tries to calls max. mike groans as he hangs up the phone, glancing at abby with the realization that he's out of options. abby catches on, too, a glint in her eye as she smiles.

"i will work, and you will sleep..."

it's almost 7 pm. usually, you'd be eating dinner by now. before your few days of solitude, you'd be laughing and talking with abby while you did. now, for the past half-hour, you'd been standing in the door frame of your kitchen, trying to decide whether or not you should eat by yourself or drive over to mike's.

the landline ringing pulls you away from contemplating the very difficult decision.

"hello?"

"hey," mike's voice greets you and you feel your heart flutter. "are you busy tonight?"

you lean against the wall, twirling the phone's cord around your finger. "hmmm, i don't know. are you asking me out?"

mike is quiet for a moment, shocked silence - he'd almost forgotten how easily you make him blush. "not tonight, baby, i'm sorry."

you can hear the smile in his voice and you can't seem to frown.

"no, it's something more... serious. can you come over? it'll be easier to explain."

"give me ten minutes."

mike groans. "ten minutes too long."

you laugh, giving him a sweet bye before hanging up, picking up your keys and giving your kitchen a quick glance. really, at this point you should just move in.

you've barely arrived on mike's doorstep when the door swings open. you're in mike's arms before you can say anything, your arms wrapping around him like it was a natural instinct. mike's face presses into your neck, intoxicating himself with your scent. your presence is a comfort and your arms give mike the sense of safety he's been chasing for years.

mike sighs into your shoulder and you pull away to press a kiss on his cheek.

"something's wrong?" you guess.

mike nods, his arms pulling you close again for just a few more seconds before letting you go (not completely, though - his hand finds yours instantly).

abby's in her room and mike drags you into his. you take a seat on his twin size bed and he follows, making a dip in the mattress that makes your legs press against each other.

there's a book and a tape recorder on mike's bedside table. your eyes wander to the space above mike's bed, where something previously taped has been ripped off.

okay, it hasn't been that long since you'd been in here...

"okay," you nod, ready to listen to whatever it is mike has to say. you're patient as he hesitates, only momentarily, before he finally tells you a few very important details he'd left out from your last conversation. like how he's been reliving his childhood trauma for the past month or so.

you really try not to be upset. you hear the desperation in mike's voice as he tells you that dream... whatever-ing at freddy's has gotten him closer than ever to figuring it all out, finally. his hands shake as he pulls out a folded up paper from his back pocket. you could recognize abby's art from anywhere.

"and look! i... i don't know how, but they're connected, somehow. the kids- they posses the robots and they can talk to abby! they told her about garrett. they know something."

"mike." your hands are on his, urging him to slow down.

"look, i know it sounds crazy." mike's gaze is serious as he looks into your eyes, pleading for you to not think he was a total nut case. "i want you to come with us tonight."

"mike-"

"no, i'm serious. you can see for yourself." and mike is looking at you so desperately.

you sigh. "okay."

mike looks like he’s still ready to convince you, not expecting you to agree so easily.

and then his hands are on your face and he’s kissing you like his life depends on it.

“i seriously-” mike says breathlessly between kisses. “don’t know what i did in a past life to deserve you, but you are… amazing.”

and so you keep your grievances to yourself. you’re really not sure if you’ve gone one step forward or taken two steps back but mike is pulling you into the kitchen to have some of the soup he’s made and there’s really no time to gather your thoughts.

but there is time for the worry you've been feeling for mike to come back tenfold.

abby is somehow more excited than mike to hear that you’ll be tagging along tonight, jumping up and down and thanking you as if you’d just told her she'd won the lottery.

she’s still buzzing in the car and mike’s hand stays steady on yours as he drives. his face is grim as he looks ahead, his eyes occasionally rising to glance at abby and falling on you at a red light (mike would've completely missed the light turning green if it weren't for your hand squeezing his).

but that feeling in your chest only grows and it's starting to make you feel sick. you’re really not sure what you’ve just agreed to.

mike pulls into the front of freddy’s, parking line long since faded. it’s your first time, but even you can point out the cop car not quite fitting in with the rest of the picture.

“vanessa’s here,” abby comments.

"yeah," mike nods, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

"my friends talk about her sometimes," abby begins softly as you come up beside her, taking her hand.

"really?" you ask curiously. "what do they say?"

"that she's nice."

"abby," mike starts with a huff. "if i asked you to wait in the car, would you?"

"no." abby smiles before turning to you. "come on!" if her legs weren't so small, you're sure she would've lost you as she dragged you along.

"abby, wait!" mike calls uselessly.

"guys, i'm back!" abby announces as soon as she enters the large party room. "and i brought someone special!"

"abby."

"hey, vanessa!" abby is unstoppable, pulling you until you're on stage, right in front of her... friends.

"abby!"

you're frozen, standing there as you watch the giant mascots come to life, seemingly without anyone controlling them. they tower over you, large bodies whirring as they turn towards you. their expressions were limited, but you could tell by the way their eyebrows pointed and their mechanical eyes squinted that they did not like you.

"guys, it's okay!" abby assures before leaning in to whisper something. she giggles, and the animatronics... relax, returning to their normal expressions.

"okay, that's seriously freaky," you admit under your breath, watching as abby smiles and laughs with the mascots.

you stay by abby's side, reaching out to wrap a protective arm around her, eyes never letting any of the animatronics out of your sight.

there's a tug on your sweater and a look in abby's eyes you know too well.

abby presents to you, mike, and vanessa a rough blueprint for a fort made entirely by crayon. when abby reveals that she wants to build a fort for all of you, including the animatronics, you can't help but give her a look.

she doesn't seem to notice, caught up in all the excitement, but you catch mike's eyes and know he's sharing your sentiments.

"abby, look," mike starts, hand on abby's shoulder. "now, this is all really fun and exciting, but these things are big, and they could be dangerous, so i think we need to lay some ground rules, all right?"

"we're gonna watch our fingers and our feet," you add warmly.

"vanessa, what do you think?"

it's quiet as the two of you look up at her - mike has told you that vanessa knows a lot about freddy's (though he suspects she knows more).

"i think we could use the tables for the fort." vanessa smiles at abby, hanging back as abby runs off. mike's eyebrows furrow in confusion, but vanessa only throws him a triumphant look before joining abby.

"everyone, follow me! come on."

it's definitely a unique experience, building a fort with animatronics possessed by dead children. but they lift and build alongside you and soon enough, they're more endearing than terrifying.

you catch vanessa trying to bring a table over by herself, quickly placing yourself on the other end and helping her lift.

"thanks," she says quietly, tight smile over her lips. "so, you and mike...?"

"together," you confirm with a nod. "for a while." there's a bit of awkward silence and you really can't tell if there's something you have to clear. "if you were interested-"

vanessa laughs, but you don't give her a chance to confirm or deny.

"-he's pretty... clueless when it comes to those things." you offer a smile and vanessa shakes her head, mouth open to say something when a stray chair catches your eye.

"hey, careful," you stop abruptly before vanessa can trip. she looks to her right and kicks the chair away with her leg.

"thanks," she smiles.

"yeah." you smile right back.

"okay, they're kind of cute," you quietly admit to mike after bonnie's little fall.

"seriously? you too?" mike frowns and you can't hide your laugh.

"what? i'm just saying, i get why abby likes them so much."

mike shakes his head, disbelief in his face as abby waves the two of you over.

"i mean... they're still just kids, right?" you whisper to mike, voice holding a hint of sadness that you try to shake off, tugging mike along to congratulate abby on her genius engineering.

"i like it in here," vanessa calls from her spot on the other side of bonnie.

"me, too," you admit, fingers lightly interlaced with mike's.

"me, three," abby grins. "but... i think it's gonna rain soon."

"sounds like we need a roof," vanessa smiles as she sits up and you can't help but appreciate how she got along with abby. "i'll go see what i can find."

"we'll, uh... we'll come with you," mike calls, pulling you up from your spot so suddenly you almost fall on bonnie. "sorry!" you whisper, patting his arm gently.

"yeah, i take it back, this place is creepy again." you shudder as you enter the storage room.

"what are you looking for, exactly?" mike inquires as vanessa begins digging through a bunch of boxes.

"tablecloths!" she responds like it's obvious. "they used to keep 'em back here for big events."

"right. and remind me how you know that?"

"mike." you warn.

but vanessa won't answer the question and you can feel you start to suspect her knowledge of the place, too.

"found 'em." vanessa smiles as she begins digging into a box and pulling out some fabric.

"god, what is that thing?" your gaze lands on a very creepy looking piece of metal slouched in the corner.

"one of the older models," vanessa comments casually. you stare at her, watching her fold the fabric to make it manageable, barely even glancing over. no, that definitely wasn't common knowledge.

"don't!" vanessa's urgency makes you jump, your head turning to see mike almost stick his hand somewhere it definitely didn't belong. "i wouldn't do that. they're spring locks. they're on all the older ones. they were designed to keep the animatronic parts in place, so that, uh, a person could safely wear the suit. they tend to be pretty unstable. let's see..."

vanessa picks up a broom to demonstrate, sticking it right where mike's arm would've been.

the metal snapped it in a split second. the visual makes you and mike both cringe.

"like i said. unstable."

"is there anything else you'd like to tell us about, vanessa? cause you seem to know everything about this place." mike's words throw no direct accusations, but his tone does. "and what'd if abby'd come in here? what if she'd found that thing?" mike's voice rises and he's on vanessa's tail, forcing you to follow.

"you're the one who brought her here, mike, not me," vanessa spins around. "what i can't wrap my head around is why."

and mike has no choice but to share what he'd told you earlier. e sighs, glancing at you as he begins his confession.

"all right, look. i think that they know who took my little brother. i can't explain it, but when i'm here, i feel closer to garrett. my dreams are more vivid, and it... it's like i can almost..."

"change what happened?" vanessa offers and you're positive she knows something. not even you reacted this calmly.

mike nods.

"did you ask them about this?"

"yeah, i tried. i don't think they like me very much. but... they do like abby."

and that's when it all clicks. you remember your phone call with abby, how mike refused to take her with him. how something about that conversation with mike hadn't sat right. you'd thought it been the whole dead children possessing giant robots then, but you realize what it is now.

"so that's what this entire thing is about? using abby to solve this?" your arms cross now, eyebrows furrowing as you turn to mike.

"okay, i'm not using her, i just asked her to ask them-"

"mike, you said yourself this place is dangerous-"

"yeah, and we're watching her."

a silence settles on the three of you as you realize that, no, you aren't.

you lead the way as the three of you pick up the pace on your way out of the storage room, vanessa and mike picking up their discussion.

"mike. you need to drop this."

"i don't really see how that's any of your business."

"i'm tellling you, you need to let it go."

"who the hell are you?"

"just someone who's trying to help."

you burst out of the dark storage room, eyes trying to find abby in the dim light.

"abby!" you cry, watching her get closer to bonnie - a hand coming up to string his guitar.

"wait, abby, don't!" vanessa cries, but all of you are too late.

sparks fly and abby's on her back, unresponsive when you get to her.

"abby? abby!"

her eyes finally open as she coughs and you breathe a sigh of relief.

"what happened?"

"it's okay, abby. you just had an accident. you're okay." vanessa pulls abby up into a hug - away from you and mike and you watch as his face falls. "i'm so sorry."

vanessa helps abby up and you take abby's hand. "alright, princess, we're gonna get you home."

you have a feeling the argument between them isn't over, so you open up the backseat for abby and get in with her, letting her wrap her arms around one of you and use you as a pillow.

you were right - it wasn't over. though it really wasn't an argument as it was mike getting yelled at and it makes you guiltily reminiscent.

but you don't move into the passenger seat even as mike gets it, already letting him know you're gonna have your own talk once you get home.

"she looked so angry," abby comments tiredly, her head resting against you as you soothingly run your fingers through her hair. "why does everyone always look at you that way?"

mike sighs quietly and you swallow thickly. "let's try to get some sleep, abs." you say quietly, a hand coming up to rub her shoulder.

really, all you did was blink. your eyes flutter open and see the sun has risen during the short drive from freddy's. you're warm, whether it's from the sun's rays or mike's gentle hand on your leg. you're still half-asleep, not really hearing what he's saying, only able to notice how beautiful he looks with the sun shining on him like that.

you almost forget you're upset with him.

mike carries abby in and you let him tuck her into bed (something tells you he needs it more than you do). your feet quietly drag on the carpet, turning into mike's room and pulling on something cozier (and that doesn't have the dingy, lingering scent of freddy's).

you're lingering in mike's door frame, only a few feet away as mike exits abby's room and closes the door quietly. your arms are crossed and you might be frowning as mike bites his lip. you know he knows. you don't trust yourself to even sit on mike's bed, the temptation almost impossible to resist even out of the corner of your eye, so you make your way down the hall to the dining room and mike wishes he could watch you walk around in his clothes under different circumstances.

you sit in the sunlight, silently, and mike thinks he'd rather you yell at him than this. he picks at his cuticles, ripping at a hangnail until it's gone, a little red spot slowly taking its place.

birds chirp brightly outside as you gather your thoughts. you don't want this to be like last time and you're trying really hard to be patient with mike. you can't imagine what it's like to lose a sibling, but he could've lost another last night. wasn't that enough to snap him into reality?

"mike," you begin and mike hopes he never hears you say his name like that again. "i would never ask you to let something like this go," and mike sighs at the familiar request. "but it's becoming... too much."

mike looks up at you now, eyebrows furrowed, ready to be angry. "'too much?' what does that mean, 'too much?'"

you're careful with your next words, taking mike's hand softly, reminding him that you do love him.

"i mean, we got lucky. abby... abby could've gotten seriously hurt."

"okay, it wasn't like i forced her, she wanted to go."

"and you were against it until you realized those... things liked her!"

mike pulls back, his jaws clenched.

"you don't understand."

"so help me, mike. help me understand, because i'm really trying to."

"finding the man who took garrett is the only thing that matters to me!"

"so abby doesn't matter?" and mike falters. "i don't matter?"

mike's heart churns and his head drops. "that's not what i..."

"yeah," you sigh, crossing your arms. it's quiet again and mike can't manage to look at you.

"mike," there it is again. "this is becoming an obsession."

mike scoffs. "it's not-"

"yes, it is! tell me mike, how many nights have you been going there for the past... month?"

mike can't answer. he truly doesn't know. he's still trying to think of a response when your hands are on his face, forcing his eyes to look at you. your fingers sweep over the bags that have taken the spot under his eyes for a while now, wishing you could rub away the dark hues. you thumb over the hair on mike's face - he hasn't shaven in a while, but he hasn't taken care of himself in longer.

"you haven't been yourself, mike. this was the problem the first time. i'm just.. worried, alright?"

mike's heart sinks as he starts to see all of the stress on your face, too. your tired eyes and the small frown on your face. something in him aches and he regrets ever dragging you into this.

your eyes catch the time and you sigh as your hands drop mike's face.

"i have to get to work."

"w... work?" mike stammers. why would you agree to tag along if you had work in the morning?

"call me if you need anything. please." you press a kiss to mike's cheek before taking off, leaving mike to sit there in silence.

he sighs, rubbing his eyes. his body is exhausted but he can't rest. not until it's finished.

"hey, it's mike. i need your help."

that night, you linger in the living room. mike hasn't called, but you just can't shake the feeling that something's not right. you take a seat on the couch, that awful sense of dread in your stomach keeping you from doing anything else.

you're not sure when the exhaustion catches up, but when you wake up it's dark outside and you're not sure if the ringing you heard was just in your head.

and then your answer machine begins to play a bright voice you could recognize anywhere.

"my friend's taking me to freddy's! i don't know where mike went but i'm mad at him... what? okay! i have to go-"

the message ends abruptly and your hands feel clammy as you replay it.

it takes a few more minutes and more than a few deep breaths before you race to your car, fingers fumbling as you get in and hit the gas.

something's wrong. you can feel it.

you're barely in the parking lot of freddy's before you're out of your car, panting and having no idea how you'd made it without getting pulled over.

you approach the entrance and consider yelling out mike and abby's names on the off chance they'll pop out and assure you everything's okay. but before you can get too close, a figure is running out towards you, pulling you towards the side of the building and out of sight of the cameras.

"vanessa?" you're surprised to see her outside of her uniform, holding something that looks dangerous and with a frantic look in her eyes. "vanessa, what's wrong?"

her eyes fall on you as she tries to even out her heavy breathing and she looks wild.

"they've got abby."

"w... what do you mean? they like her, right? they won't hurt her?"

vanessa shakes her head quickly, her eyes teary and her voice quivering. "mike, he..."

"vanessa, please."

"they want to make her like them."

your heart's in your throat as you follow vanessa through the vents, dust and anxiety making it hard to breathe. you feel like you're going to be sick and you would push vanessa if you weren't sure that she was going as fast as she could. the vent cover is already off, making it easier for the two of you make it to the party room. bonnie and freddy are down on the stage, but you and vanessa are crouched and quiet, trying to listen for where abby could be over the sound of your own heart pounding.

foxy doesn't notice as you come up behind him and vanessa electrocutes him, your arms immediately fishing for abby as she screams.

"it's okay," you assure quietly, pulling abby in tightly, the relief you feel so intense tears almost slip out of your eyes. "you're okay."

"foxy!" abby calls out as she backs out of your arms, eyes sad for her friend.

"we're gonna get you somewhere safe so we can go help your brother, okay?" vanessa says worriedly, eyes checking over abby as her hand rubs her shoulder. her eyes fall on you and you nod, picking abby up and listening to vanessa's directions towards somewhere safe.

though there's not much you can do but chase after abby once she spots her brother on the floor, unconscious. you're on your hands and knees, eyelashes fluttering hazily, not quite able to process seeing your boyfriend bloodied and bruised. not quite able to fathom what it'll mean if he doesn't wake up. abby's screams don't quite reach your ears as her small hands try to shake him awake.

"mike, please." you don't even recognize the sound of your own voice, so desperate and shaky.

at last, mike stirs, weakly twisting onto his forearms.

"the drawings," he chokes out. "the yellow rabbit hurt your friends. show them what really happened."

mike's weight is on you as the two of you stumble through the dank hallways, lights flickering and mike panting. "here, here," mike directs and you pull him into a control room. mike stumbles as he reaches for a box, steadying himself against the dusty wall as he grunts, flipping the switch from off to on. you're not sure what it does but your arm is around mike again, pulling him out of the room as quickly as you'd gotten in.

there's a layer of sweat on your face as you push past a door, the last door that finally leads you back to abby.

she calls your names as she runs over, away from the man who's been behind it all. you let mike catch his breath for a second as you pull abby close, the three of you watching as the yellow rabbit is finally punished.

lights begin to fall, shattering the instant they hit the ground.

"alright, we gotta go." you scoop abby up, mike using you as support as you try to navigate your way out safely. you bite back a gasp once you see vanessa on the ground, pale and unresponsive.

"okay, okay." you set abby down and you and mike crouch down to each sling one of vanessa's arms over your necks. mike stumbles, almost falling as he tries to stand and your face tightens with worry.

"hold my hand," you instruct abby. "hold tight. don't let go."

the animatronics are dragging the yellow rabbit somewhere, but you can't spare any attention, focusing on not dropping vanessa and making sure mike is still upright. you're almost at the exit when the ceiling starts to come down, your own panting mixing with mike's pained grunts as the four of you finally make it outside.

"abby, i need you to open up the car for me, okay?"

abby nods and grabs your keys, running up ahead to click the button on your keys. the lights blink and she opens up the back for you and mike to sit vanessa in. you strip yourself of your sweater, laying it over vanessa as abby climbs into the opposite side. "hold her tight, alright?" abby nods, clicking her seat belt before holding onto vanessa's arm. good girl.

you help mike into the passenger seat, kissing the top of his head as he continues breathing irregularly, holding his side and gasping.

you're not the best example for abby as you skip your seat belt, shoving your keys into the ignition and turning them quickly. you peel out of freddy's, trying to remember the quickest route to the hospital. you're way over the speed limit, but not an ounce of you cares.

"keep putting pressure on it," you manage out, hands sweaty against your steering wheel. mike holds himself steady against your dashboard and your eyes constantly bounce between the road and mike, so distracted you almost drive on the curb as you pull into the hospital. it's okay, it's okay, you repeat to yourself as you head straight for the emergency room.

it'll be okay.

mike is cleared first. it's been a few hours and abby's asleep in the chair next to yours. the pounding of your heart kept you awake, tired eyes waiting expectantly each time a staff entered the waiting room.

finally, someone called you over.

"he's awake," the lady with the clipboard says with a smile and you gently shake abby awake. she's still half-asleep as the two of you are led to one of the hospital rooms, bright daylight shining in from the window making your eyes hurt.

but then you spot mike, raised up in his bed and awake and breathing and the weight on your shoulders is gone.

"mike!" abby cries happily, running over to throw her arms around her brother.

"careful, abs," you say softly, though you're barely containing your own excitement.

"no, no, it's okay. i can barely feel a thing," mike assures, pulling abby up into a tight hug.

you come up behind her, the tears you've been holding for hours finally finding their way out, relieving some of the pressure in your chest.

"hey, come here," mike says softly, his arms, still so strong, pulling you close. abby digs her way in again, head resting against your back until you pull her in, too. "i'm okay," mike whispers just before you all let go.

"yeah," you nod, wiping your face before abby can see. "you're okay."

the ride back home is exciting, the three of you making a stop for abby's favorite fast food before you make it home. abby is reluctant to let go of mike as you all trudge in, but her little eyes are closing and she'll wake up with a sore neck if she falls asleep on the couch.

you go straight for mike once she's tucked in. you're pressing him against the wall as you kiss him, careful not to hit any of the bruises on his face. there's no argument from him as his hands find your hips, his thumbs pressing softly into your skin. the both of you are trying to articulate your feelings through the desperate kisses you share, lips swollen and breathing heavy by the time you're finished.

but mike's had something on his chest for a while now, too.

"you were right," he breaths out, chest still heaving from the kisses. "about everything. i was stuck in the past and i wasn't focusing on what was right in front of me," mike's hands are on your face now, making sure you're looking at him (as if you could tear yourself away). "you and abby are the most important things in the world. and i... i love you."

your eyes are wide as you glance from one of mike's big brown eyes to the other, watching him watch you desperately. his eyes stay steady on yours, his fingers slowly thumbing over your face.

"i love you," he whispers again, reveling in the feeling of the phrase slipping off his tongue. "i love you." one more time, just for good measure.

and then you're grinning so wide, your face suddenly warm under mike's hand. your hands are on his, pushing them a little to catch mike in a kiss, completely different than before - this one's slow, the two of you dragging it out as long as you can, each trying to engrave the other in their memory.

but that's not where you want to live. so you pull away and cup mike's face in your hands, forcing him to be present with you again.

"i love you, you idiot. and i'm gonna make sure you know it every single day."

mike nods as he buries his face in your shoulder. he thinks he's crying and you might be, too. there's so many words he wants to say, but he can't quite figure out how to string them together. there's promises to for him to make and to see through, but for now, mike settles on one phrase, repeated into the material of your shirt. he's not even positive you can hear him, but he knows you know.

"i love you. i love you. i love you..."

final part!!! yay!!! i'm still not sure what to call this little mini-series, so let me know :p. & if you want any bonus content for them... requests are open! <333

(also, i am ignoring aunt jane because i have NO IDEA what happened to her in the movie)

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt angst #fnaf x reader #fnaf #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's #v + mike #v writes

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kiwikisses · 5 months ago

Text

𝕃𝕠𝕟𝕝𝕖𝕪 ℕ𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕤

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

Fem!reader x Idol!Bangchan

Summary: Chan has been coming home late every night for the past month but suddenly comes home early and catches you doing something…

Warnings: Bondage, Cum control, Oral (M receiving), He calls himself a good boy, Cock Ring, Restraint, Ropes/Tying up, Sub!Chan, Dom!reader, lmk if I missed any!

Word Count: 2k

A/N: This one kinda sucks but I was trying to find a ff like this with Chan tied up and i fricking couldn’t so I wrote one myself. I hope yall like it😣. Also i would love more recs! If you have something you want to write about just ask!!

𓆝 𓆟 �� 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Recently Chan has been spending a lot of time at work. You've tried to convince him to take some days off, but he won't listen. He’s been coming home really late every night since the beginning of the month. It makes you overthink, but you also know that he would never do anything like that to you.

It was just like every other night, staying up, and waiting for Chan impatiently. It was only 9:00 PM. And he usually gets home at around 11-12 at night.

Today was a particularly hard day, all you could think about was Chan. Neither of you haven't done anything with each other for almost a month now. You’re starting to think about his touch, the way his hands glide across your body. His voice in the back of your head, "C'mon Y/N, please".

All day at work you sat at your desk, thinking about everything you have done with him. The two of you have always been open with the kinds of things you like doing in bed. There was always one thing you wanted to try, but you figured Chan wouldn't like it because he tends to be the dominant one.

You sit on the couch and turn on the TV to pass time and get your mind off of your sick thoughts. It’s been a cycle of him coming home then going straight to bed after saying hi to you, so you haven't really gotten the chance to ask him about it.

9:30PM

Fuck this is gonna be a long night without you Chan...

It feels wrong watching videos with bondage and cum control on other men, but you wanted to be able to give Chan the best experience you could if he would ever allow you to do it to him.

You move over to the counter and grab your laptop, pulling up the usual website you use and watch a video of a man, tied in a chair, his hands behind his back, and a cock ring on his dick.

The man's face wasn't in frame, and he was built pretty similarly to chan. Your face was getting hot thinking about it, you wanted to ask Chan about it. Desperately. But, he was always home late and tired, so you didn’t want to disturb him.

9:45PM

It's only been 15 minutes?

Time felt so slow when you had nights like these, fantasizing about Chans reactions as you took control over him.

Suddenly, you hear the clicks in the door, Click Click. The door opens and Chan walks in, you were in shock that he was already home. So much so that you forgot to close your tabs.

You went over to the door to greet Chan with a hug, joy overcoming you seeing him this early. “I finally had some time left over to come home early, love” he said with a warm smile.

Chan walks over to the counter to set down his bag and sees your computer that was left open. The paused video on the screen was still open, revealing to him what you do while he’s not home.

“Oh? What’s this hm?” His gaze shifting from the computer to you. Realizing you’ve messed up you quickly close the laptop.

You look at Chan innocently, “Uh, that wasn’t me I-I-“ Chan cut you off by meeting his lips into yours, giving you gentle kisses to let you know he’s not angry.

Chan breaks the kiss and looks at your face, his expression changed from soft to lustful, “What is this love? Is it something you want?” You look away out of embarrassment , it’s not that you didn’t what him to know but this wasn’t the way you wanted him to find out you were into this kind of thing.

“Chan, I-I really wanted to tell you..but you’ve been so busy lately I just haven’t had the chance…”

He walks over to the kitchen table and grabs one of the chairs and brings it to the center of the living room. He proceeds to sit down, “Well?” You sheepishly smile and head towards the bedroom, grabbing lube, red rope, and a cock ring. When you walk out with the materials chan is a little surprised, not by the lube or the rope, rather the cock ring. Chan has never used one with you nor has he ever owned one.

“Where did you get that?” you had spontaneously bought the cock ring one night while you were having one of those nights, and hoped you’d be able to use it with him one day. “well… I was bored without you one night and I kinda thought… about you wearing one…” You lowered your tone as you said the last bit. You didn’t want him to see into your mind of fantasies. He smiles at you as you put the things on the floor beside him.

He takes off his pants and boxers in one swift motion, then moving on to his shirt, his body always got you. The way he just looks so effortlessly good gets you every time.

He sits back down and puts his hands behind his back, ready to be tied. Chan looks so hot when he’s submissive, his eyes just have a certain look in them as if he’s asking for more.

After you finish tying him up you put the cock ring on his shaft, his semi-hard cock twitches from the feeling of your fingers working around him. “Ready Chan? I wont do this if you don’t want me to.”

“please Y/N, don’t let me leave this chair until I have tears rolling down my cheeks.” You give him a smile as you head over to grab a second chair from the table so you’re comfortable.

You place the chair so facing him, giving you enough space to touch him and see his expression. Chan has the best expressions when he’s is in pleasure.

You take his hard nipple into your mouth, your tongue going back and forth on his bud. He lets his head fall back, little mmm’s coming from him. His body is overly sensitive. Your hand roams around his body, going to his V-line to tease his now hard cock. “Fuck Y/N, why are you such a tease.”

“I’m the tease? What about all these nights you’ve been leaving me alone to please myself without you?” He has a look of need on his face, his eyes watching your hand getting closer to his dick. His abdomen twitching every time you rubbed down to his shaft.

Your eyes meet his as you take his dick into your hand. Moans are slipping from his lips, he hasn’t touched himself or been touched in a while. He’s missed the way you touch him. “Mmm, Y/N..” His eyes are focused in your hand, you tease around his tip, rubbing your finger along his slit, forcing moans out of him. “Tell me when you’re about to cum okay?”

He closes his eyes and throws his head back, you lean forward and kiss his adam’s apple, the sound of his little whimpers filling the room. “I-I’m close..” His body squirms round, his hips bucking as you remove your hand. His hips keep fucking into the air hoping for a release. After he calms down and relaxes you go back to stroking him.

Your hand moves slowly up and down his cock, the rope around his wrists holding him down from trying to give himself release, “Patients Chan, you need to wait. You need a little punishment for leaving me alone for so long.” He whimpers in frustration as you slow your pace down even more. Your hands lifts from his cock, his hips chasing after your hand. His head falls back, his moans growing louder.

“Please Y/N, I-I’m s-sorry, please let me cum..” Looking into your eyes he begs for release, you want to give it to him but the way his body is moving from your touch, his body twitching, his hips moving with your strokes. You just couldn’t help yourself from wanting to see him like that forever. His submissive side was always your favorite thing. Chan has the best facial expressions when he’s being lost in his own pleasure.

“You need to be good Chan, earn it.” He groans, tears starting to form in the outer corners of his eyes. “Please I-I’ll be a good boy, I didnt mean to..” You smile at his response, your speed picking up again, using your other hand to place your palm on the tip of his cock. The feeling of your palm on his tip along with how fast you’re stroking him makes him cry out your name.

“Ngh I-I’m closed Y/N..” You stop touching him completely, he tries to chase his high again but fails. “Fuck Y/N I cant take it anymore.” You reach for his tip and tease his slit, his dick twitching here and there. His breathing starts getting heavier, his chest rising and falling at a fast pace.

Chans eyes are watering from being edged three times, the tears close to falling. You watch his expression, making sure that he is okay with everything still.

Finally a tear falls from his eye and rolls down his cheek. You had already decided in your mind that when he was crying for release, like he said earlier, then you’d let him cum.

“Since you’ve been so good for me chan, you can cum. But you have to promise you wont leave me to touch myself all alone again okay? Can you do that?” He shakes his head yes, the tears falling down to his jaw. He watches your hand go up to his cock, you make sure to keep your pace steady this time.

The ropes restrain his body as he tries to reach for his dick to finally let go. His hips are in rhythm with every stroke you make, “I-I’m gonna cum Y/N…C-Can I cum?” You nod yes and start stroking his cock faster, his moans becoming rapid, his body tenses and his breathing becoming louder and faster.

You put your mouth up to his cock head, you’ve been needing to taste him.

With a final stroke he cums in your mouth. White strings shooting into your throat, the warm white fluid filling your mouth. You kiss his tip, making sure to get every drop of him.

“It’s all out mm~…” He hisses with every stroke, his body pulling him forward every time you moan on his dick.

You bring yourself off of his cock and stroke him a few more times before getting face to face with chan. “You did so good, Chan.” He leans forward and kisses you, the taste of his cum on your tongue transfers to his.

You reach behind him and untie his wrists. The rope falls off his body, little red marks appearing where the rope was sitting. “I’m sorry Chan…Did it hurt where the ropes were? You should’ve told me.” You frown at the marks as you run your finger over them.

“It didnt love, I kinda liked the way it felt to be restrained.” He smiled and took you into his arms. You both always cared about after care, especially Chan, he really valued giving you aftercare.

You escape his grasp to take off the cock ring, trying to get him more comfortable. “Would you like to go take a shower together and clean up?” You say as you gather the ropes that were discarded on the floor.

You both share a smile and head toward the shared bedroom and get ready to shower, “Just wait love, I’ll get you back.”

You scoff as you take off the last of your clothes, “I’ll have you crying my name.” Chan had a more serious tone, his dominant side makes you a little nervous sometimes but you low key love how rough he is when hes frustrated about something. “I can’t wait for it then.”

#bang chan #bangchan #bangchan smut #han jisung #seungmin #skz stay #smut #spicy #stray kids #changbin smut

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ravencoloredroses · 2 years ago

Text

First Time

Nyx x Reader

Summary: Nyx and Reader are together, but they’ve never been together……

Word Count: 3,787

Warnings: SMUT

A/N: Thank you for reading!! Please let me know what you think! <3

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Nyx’s POV

I have no idea how to tell her. The love of my life, my mate, my everything. I need to tell her why I haven’t tried to take the next step in our relationship. We’ve been together for around 6 months and they’ve been the best months of my life. When I was a little boy, I was infatuated with the concept of mates. The idea that there is someone out there perfectly made to be with you and you to them. I asked a lot of questions, but no one ever went into detail. No one ever mentioned that the bond must be accepted and they certainly didn’t mention how it was accepted. That’s the part that worries me.

Y/N and I have never talked about sex before so we don’t know each other's pasts. I have never done it before, but nobody knows that. Not even my family. When they sent me away to Windhaven I was given ‘the talk’. Really all we talked about was that it would be best to take a contraceptive tonic. My dad has been giving me bottles of this tonic because he thinks that I’m sexually active. Unbeknownst to him, I have a stockpile of the bottles under my bed because I’m too embarrassed to tell him the truth.

My first kiss was with Y/N, but nobody needs to know that either. I try not to think about the fact that I might not have been hers. And if I wasn’t her first kiss then I might not be the male to take her virginity. The thought of her being with another male upsets me, but if that’s the case then there’s nothing I could do to change that. I’m terrified of doing something wrong, of disappointing her. Sex is a very intimate experience that requires a lot of trust and if she gave me her trust just for me to fuck it up, I would never forgive myself.

That’s why anytime our kisses deepen or our touches get more sensual, I stop. I have to physically restrain myself before I do anything I’ll regret. I know that she notices, but she’s too kind to say anything, so we don’t. I need to grow up and ask for help.

“What are you thinking so hard about?” My uncle Cassian playfully whacks the back of my head to get my attention.

“Nothing.” I sigh.

“Uh-oh…. That doesn’t sound like nothing.” He plops down on the couch next to me.

“Is this about Y/N?” Uncle Az asks as he sits down on my other side. When I give him a shocked look he clarifies. “I know you guys haven’t accepted the bond yet. I just figured that’s what you were think about.”

Uncle Cass gasps. “You haven’t accepted it yet?” I shake my head.

“I want to. I really want to. But I’m scared.” I admit. I look up to see both of my uncles have confusion written all over their faces. “I’ve um- I’ve never..”

Uncle Az releases a knowing sigh. “You’re afraid that you’ll hurt her.” I nod aggressively, thankful that he didn’t make me finish my sentence. “Have you talked to her about any of this?” I look down at my hands to hide my embarrassment. “Then that’s step one. You need to talk with her. You need to talk about what you’re comfortable with. Set boundaries and limits for certain things.”

I nod in agreement. Of course I know that I need to talk to her, but then what? “What’s step two?” I ask.

“You decide what step two is after you talk to her. Step two could be to just go for it, or it could be to take it slow and have more conversations about it. It all depends.” Uncle Cassian answers. “You- You do know how it works, right?”

I glare at him. “Yes. I know how it works.”

He holds up his hands in defense. “Okay, okay. I just wanted to make sure. No one’s first time is good, so don’t worry about it too much.”

That is exactly what I’m worried about. “I want it to be, though. I want it to be special. She deserves it.”

Uncle Az gives me a small smile. “It will be special, Nyx. I promise.” He stands up from the couch and begins to walk towards the door, Uncle Cassian follows.

“W-Wait!” I run up to meet them. “Can we… keep this just between us?” I ask tentatively.

“You don’t want your dad to know you’re a virgin?” Uncle Cass asks with a raised eyebrow and I shake my head. He cracks a smile, “Okay then, your secret is safe with me….. and Nesta.” He spits out the last part and quickly runs away.

Uncle Az turns to place a hand on my shoulder. “I won’t tell anyone, Nyx.” I knew he wouldn’t, I was -and still am- worried that Uncle Cass would tell everyone. “Oh, and I would start taking those tonics under your bed by the way.” He says with a wink as he walks away.

“How did you-….. Nevermind. Thanks Uncle Az!” I yell out to him, but he’s already gone. Leaving me alone to plan out the conversation I’ve been putting off.

Reader’s POV

I’m laying down in bed thinking, like I have been for the past 3 hours. Nyx has been acting weird around me lately. Every time we start to get intimate, he pulls away. We’ve never talked about it and I’m starting to think that it’s because of me. I’ve never had sex before. I’ve never even had a boyfriend before. Nyx was my first kiss and he’s going to be my first in a lot of things, but I’m a little nervous. Actually, I’m terrified. They say your first time is painful, some people actually bleed! I know Nyx would never intentionally hurt me, but it sounds like it’s inevitable.

I haven’t told Nyx that I’m a virgin, so he probably doesn’t know that I’m nervous about it. He’s probably stopping us from doing anything intimate for a completely different reason. I just hope that him second guessing our relationship has nothing to do with it.

I’m pulled away from my thoughts when someone gently knocks on the door. “Come in.” I say, sitting up as Nyx slowly steps into our room. “This is your room too Nyx, you don’t have to knock.”

“I know, but I didn’t want to barge in on you.” He says, moving to sit down next to me. He grabs onto my hand and brings it up to his mouth for a kiss. “How was your day?” He brushes hair out of my face while he waits for my response. I don’t give one. Instead, I reach up to pull his lips down to mine. It starts out sweet and soft, like always. I feel him smile into the kiss as I wrap my arms around his neck and play with the back of his hair.

I lift my leg over him to staddle his lap and his hands find their way to my hips. I lightly bite down on his lip which causes him to moan into my mouth. Nyx stiffens below me as I move to start unbuttoning his shirt. He breaks the kiss and opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out. I feel absolutely mortified so I climb off of him and make a break for the bathroom when he grabs my hand to stop me. “Y/N, please don’t go.”

I turn around to look at him and wipe away my newly fallen tears. “It’s okay Nyx, I understand.”

He tightens his grip on my hand when I try to turn back around. “No, it’s not like that. I promise. I- I just want to talk before we…”

I nod and move to stand between his legs. “Do you not.. want to be with me in that way?” I ask, bracing myself for his answer.

“I do. I absolutely do, Y/N. I love you so much and I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I’ve never…. been with anyone like that before.” He looks up at me from under his lashes to see my reaction. My mouth hangs open as I try to comprehend what he said.

“Yo-You’ve never….” He shakes his head and I released a breath I didn’t even know I was holding. Knowing that this will be both of our first time is so comforting to me I can’t even describe it. “Me neither.” I say with a smile.

Nyx blinks up at me, shocked. “You’ve never?” I repeat his head shake from earlier and then he repeats my breath release. “Oh, thank the Mother.” He laughs out and leans his head forward to rest on my chest. I cradle the back of his head while pressing a kiss into his hair. We stay like that for a while, just embracing each other, and then Nyx pulls back. “Do you still want to? I’m sorry I ruined the mood.”

I stare down at him, deciding to tell him the truth. “I’m scared.” He grabs both of my hands and runs his thumbs over my knuckles.

“We will go slow. I promise to be gentle, but the second something doesn’t feel right or you just want to stop, tell me. We will stop immediately, no questions asked.” He presses a kiss to both of my hands. “We’re in this together, my love.”

I lean down to press his lips to mine, then it’s my turn to moan into his mouth as he pulls me back down onto his lap. We’re back in the same position we were previously, but the feeling is different. This time Nyx isn’t stiff underneath me or restraining himself. This time his hands are roaming anywhere they can reach on my body as mine do the same.

I pull away for air, but my lips don’t want to stop. They move over to his jaw, down his neck and then over to the other side and back up. All while Nyx blesses my ears with his soft moans. I hadn’t noticed before, but his bulge beneath me has become very obvious. I begin to rock my hips back and forth, trying to create some type of friction. Nyx removes his hands from my body and I begin to panic until I realize what they are doing instead. Starting with the top, they begin to unbutton his shirt.

I place my hands over his and he looks up at me confused. “Let me.” I smirk at him as my hands fly to his hair and I kiss down his neck once again, but I keep going lower. I take my time around the base of his neck, making sure not to miss a spot. Nyx starts to lean backwards on the bed which grants me more access to his chest. My lips move down to his collarbone and I have to tear my hands away from his hair in order to undo the first button on his shirt. I slowly move down his body leaving a trail of kisses. When I get to the last button, I look up to find Nyx watching me intently. I smile at him as I make my way back up his chest and place my lips on his again.

He sits us up without breaking our kiss and removes his shirt. My hands run along his chest, over his shoulders, down his back, anywhere they can reach. Nyx tugs at the bottom my shirt and begins to pull it up over my head. Once it’s off, he gently flips us over so he’s laying on top of me. I try to pull him back down to kiss me, but he doesn’t budge. He stares down at me and moves a strand of hair behind my ear.

“You are so beautiful.” He whispers, continuing to brush my hair away. We stare at eachother for a moment, trying to catch our breaths, until his hand reaches around my back to unclasp my bra. He pauses to look at me for permission. I nod. He flings my bra onto the floor to join the growing pile of our clothes.

Nyx kisses behind my ear, my jaw, down my neck and then he closes his mouth around my breast. I press up into him when his tongue flicks my nipple. He uses one hand to stabilize himself and the other begins to move towards my pants. I feel my underwear becoming wet, which isn’t a new feeling, being with Nyx has left me wet plenty of times, but it’s never been this intense before. His mouth releases my breast and he leaves a trail of kisses down my stomach then stops right below my belly button.

Nyx positions himself between my legs and looks up at me as he begins to undo my pants. I lift my hips up so he can tug them off. Just as I suspected, my underwear are completely soaked. Nyx obviously sees my drenched panties, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he slowly -torturously- removes them too, leaving me completely bare before him. He’s eye level with my pussy now. I feel so exposed, almost embarrassed, until he places a kiss on the inside of my thigh. I meet his eyes as he kisses closer and closer to my pussy. When he finally presses his lips gently to my center, I squirm from the sensation.

I lay back down, but my eyes stay locked with his. Nyx reaches a hand up to lace his fingers with mine. This already intimate position immediately intensifies just by us holding hands. He squeezes my hand gently as he continues to press kisses into me.

His mouth covers my pussy completely, his tongue moving around as if he’s trying to memorize every inch of me. I try my best not to squirm, but the sensation is too fucking good. My unoccupied hand grabs onto his hair and I start to grind down on his mouth. My moans are escaping my mouth with no warning. No doubt everyone in this house can hear me, but I don’t fucking care. All I can think about is Nyx. How his tongue is pumping in and out of me, how his hand is still tightly interlocked with mine.

Without warning his other hand meets his mouth and he slides one finger into me. My back arches up at the sensation and I release my grip on his hair to grab the sheets next me. His tongue moves up to work on my clit and another finger joins the first. “Don’t stop! Oh my God, don’t stop!” I scream out and Nyx picks up his pace. His fingers find the magical spot that makes my body go numb.

I have no control over my body. My legs are violently shaking, my mouth is making noises I’ve never made before and my eyes are rolling back as Nyx pushes me over the edge. He draws out my orgasm, leading me through wave after wave of pleasure. After what feels like forever, but also nowhere near enough time, Nyx slides his fingers out of me and places a kiss on each of my thighs.

I finally open my eyes just in time to see Nyx place his fingers -drenched in me- into his mouth and moan at the taste. I watch him lick his fingers clean while his eyes never leave mine. Only when he sits back do I see that his bulge is practically begging me to help it, to set it free.

I try to sit up, but everything hurts in the best way so I stay where I am and watch Nyx. He’s looking at me with a look filled with love that I’m sure I match. He gives my hand a squeeze and then let’s go to unbuckle his belt. He stands up to shimmy off his pants and underwear, leaving him as bare as I am. His body is breathtaking. I want to memorize every inch of him. My eyes leave his to move down chest, over his torso and then his dick. I knew Nyx was gonna be big, his wings are fucking huge, but I’m actually concerned at his size. It might not fit.

Nyx pulls me out of my thoughts by rubbing his thumb along my cheek. My hand flies up to rest over his. “Y/N, look at me.” I do. “I’m gonna be here the whole time. It’s going to be okay. I promise.” He kisses me softly and I smile at the taste of myself on his lips. I nod at his words, but the thoughts don’t leave immediately.

“We‘ll go slow, okay?” I nod again and pull his hand off my cheek to lace our fingers together once more. Nyx climbs over me and lines himself up at my entrance. He drags himself through my folds, coating himself in my wetness. I take in a deep breath and prepare for him to push into me. We both moan at the feeling of finally connecting. My eyes never leave his as his tip slowly enters me. The pressure is almost too much to handle and the pain is noticeable, but bearable.

“Dear God, Y/N.” Nyx moans into my ear. “You feel so fucking good.” I kiss him as my response since I can’t really form words right now. He slowly sinks into me inch by glorious inch. When he finally bottoms out, I moan so loud I hear it echo off the walls. I lean my head up to see where we connect. We look fucking perfect. Like a painting that I’d want to look at for hours.

I rest my head back on the pillow and meet Nyx’s eyes again. “Can I move?” He asks, giving my hand a squeeze. I nod and he kisses me as he starts to slowly move. Agonizingly slow, he pulls back out of me almost all of the way and then pushes back in. The pain doesn’t necessarily go away, but the majority of it is replaced with pleasure. Nyx rests his forehead on mine as his pace quickens and our heavy breathing synchronizes.

Every time Nyx thrusts, I feel my muscles constricting which just makes everything feel so much better. “Fuck, Y/N. I’m close.” Nyx moans, giving my hand a squeeze.

“Me too.” I manage to whisper back.

“Together?” He presses a kiss to my forehead.

“Together.” I moan out as Nyx picks up his pace and his hand snakes down to rub my clit. That was what pushed me over the edge for a second time. I feel him follow immediately after me. Everything begins to blur but Nyx and I. All I can see is him. All I can feel is him. All I can hear is him. And I don’t want it to end. We ride our highs together, drawing this out as long as we can.

Nyx collapses down on top of me and I cradle the back of his head. I press kisses onto his shoulder as we try to catch our breaths.

After a moment, Nyx rises on his arms to look at me. “Is it okay if I pull out?” I wipe some of the sweat off of his forehead before I nod. We both look down to where we are connected and I hold my breath as he pulls out of me. It hurts a little when he does, but nothing I can’t handle. When he’s finally all the way out I release a sigh.

No blood.

Nyx sits up beside me and pulls me into his lap. He wraps his arms around me and lightly strokes up and down my back. “I love you so much, Nyx.” I say when I can actually speak. My legs are still shaking and my breathing hasn’t fully calmed down yet, but I feel amazing.

“I love you so fucking much, Y/N.” I look up to meet his gaze and he gently wipes away my stray tears. He lifts me up and carries me into the bathroom. “Wait here.” Nyx says as he sets me down on the counter. He goes to the linen closet, grabs a rag then heads over to the sink. “Do you have to pee?” He says while getting the rag wet.

I look over at him confused. “What?”

“I read that it’s not a bad idea to pee after sex. I guess it flushes out any bad bacteria in your system.” He scratches the back of his head nervously. I never thought about it before, but it makes total sense.

“I’ll try.” I say, preparing to stand up, but Nyx comes over and picks me up before I can. “I can walk, you know.” I laugh.

“I know, I just don’t want you to have to.” He kisses my forehead as he sets me down on the toilet and leaves to give me some privacy. I finish quickly and hobble over to the sink to wash my hands. When I turn the water off I see Nyx come up behind me in the mirror holding a fluffy robe. “Feeling okay?” I turn to face him while he helps me put the robe on.

“Yeah. Better than okay, actually.” I throw my arms around his neck to pull him down into a quick kiss. Nyx bends down to pick me up again and walks back to the bedroom.

When he sets me down on the bed, I crawl under the sheets and watch him walk over to the other side to join me. As soon as we are both under the covers, I snuggle into his side. “I can’t believe we waited 6 months for us to do that. Think of all the mind blowing sex we could have been having.” I joke after a moment of silence. Nyx laughs so hard that our bodies shake.

“Yeah, that’s true…” His tone becomes serious. “We will have lifetimes together, there is no race for us. I would have waited centuries for this moment.”

“Me too.” I have so many things I want to say to him, but he’s right, we will have lifetimes together. There will be other perfect moments like this one. So, I move closer to my mate's side as my eyes become droopy.

“Nyx…”

“Yes, my love?”

“I don’t think I can go to training tomorrow morning….”

He laughs quietly. “Then I guess we will just have to stay here.”

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar #nyx #nyx x reader #azriel #feyre #cassian #nesta #mor #rhys #acofas #acowar #acosf #acomaf #nyx archeron #rhysand #sarah j maas #acotar smut

471 notes · View notes

kayewrite · 9 months ago

Text

Maybe this time

genre: exes to lovers (?)! angst with happy ending!! word count: 2.6k

Han Jisung x reader!! han x fem reader

wherein; Two old friends reunite and reminisce about their shared past. As they reconnect, they wonder if time can bridge the gap they left behind. Will their bond pick up where it left off, or will this meeting pave the way for a new chapter? maybe this time…

(i really want to write this before and glad i finally made it i hope you like it!!)

ps: im sorry i dont really make another part in my works because i want to leave it as open ending and let my readers continue the story on their own. but if i have time and decide to make, ill promise ill make one (especially 'want so bad')

but i hope you enjoy reading because i love making this fic. thank youu. love lots :) please love this as much i love it

Life… is beautiful.

Even if it is full of pain, sadness, and hurt.

Even if it is full of tears, there are also moments of happiness, smiles, and gladness.

Life is a roller coaster. It lifts you up, then plunges you down, only to rise again. When you step into the cart for the first time, you know it will bring a whirlwind of emotions—fear, joy, anxiety. You know from the start what to expect, yet you still take the ride because deep down, you believe it will be worth it in the end.

You smile as you finish writing the last sentence in your book, the final period punctuating months of dedication and passion. It's done. After all the hard work, the late nights, and the self-doubt, it's finally finished.

You stand up, stretching your back with a satisfied sigh, and decide that a reward is in order. You change into your exercise outfit, slip on your earphones, and set the timer on your watch.

30 minutes.

You head out, jogging through the park outside your apartment. The weather is perfect—a gentle breeze, the sun filtering through the trees, a few people scattered around, minding their own business. You focus on your breathing, your feet hitting the pavement in a steady rhythm, the world around you fading into the background.

As you reach a shaded path, you feel the need to pause and catch your breath. You slow down, resting your hands on your knees. Suddenly, a hand lands on your shoulder, startling you.

You jump slightly, turning to see who it is. The surprise on your face deepens when you see him.

He’s breathless, his chest heaving as he holds up an index finger, gesturing for a moment of silence. “I’m… sorry,” he says between gasps. “Give me… one second… to catch my breath.”

You stand there, stunned. The face in front of you is one you haven't seen in years.

It’s Han—your first love.

“Nice to see you again,” he finally says, a grin spreading across his face.

You’re speechless for a moment, your mind racing to catch up. “Han… I can’t believe it’s you!” The shock wears off, replaced by a wave of warmth and nostalgia. You reach out and hug him, the familiar scent and feel of him bringing back a flood of memories.

He laughs, hugging you back and patting your shoulder. “I saw you while I was driving and I had to stop. I called out to you, but then I realized you had earphones on.” He chuckles, still slightly out of breath.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” you exclaim, pulling back to look at him properly. “I’m so surprised to see you! How have you been?”

“I’m fine, doing well. It’s so good to see you again.”

“Me too!”

The moment feels surreal as if you’re in a dream. You find yourselves sitting in a cozy café, sipping your favorite strawberry latte while he enjoys a slice of red velvet cake. The scene feels like a perfect snapshot of your reunion, a peaceful moment in the midst of life’s chaos.

Han was your first love, the boy who held your hand when you were just 13. Back then, you both thought you understood love—childish dreams of the future, talking about getting married, and planning a life together as if you knew what it all meant.

You smile, lost in the memories of those innocent days.

“Let’s get married,” he had said one time, both of you sitting on a bench, holding hands.

You stopped munching on your favorite snack, looking at him. His eyes, filled with affection, sparkled like they held tiny beating hearts. If this were an animated movie, there would be hearts popping out of them.

“Yes, when we’re adults,” you replied with a smile, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“That’s a promise, okay?”

“Yeah, a promise.” And with that, you linked pinky fingers, sealing the promise with the innocent trust only kids have.

“How are you?” you ask now, your eyes locking with his. The happiness in his face is contagious.

“I’m doing well, healthy and living life to the fullest.” He smiles, and it’s the same smile you remember—genuine, warm, unchanging.

“I’m glad to hear that. Really,” you say, feeling the warmth of his presence spreading through you.

“I’m really glad to see you too. How about you?”

“I’m doing fine, healthy as well. Life hasn’t always been easy, but I’m at a point where I’m happy and living my best life.”

“Thank God for that,” he says, his voice full of sincerity.

Hearing those words from him makes you both sigh, a shared sense of relief washing over you.

“I saw you on TV. You’re a famous writer now. You don’t know how proud I am of you,” he says, his voice full of admiration. “I’m glad you achieved your dream.”

His words hit you deep, emotions welling up. “Thank you.”

Being a writer had always been your dream.

“When I grow up, I want to be a famous writer. I’ll write books that inspire people,” you had said, lying on the grass, looking up at the stars with Han beside you. You held your pen up like a magic wand, closing one eye as you imagined the future.

“And I hope you achieve that dream,” he had said, taking your hand and holding it tight.

You had smiled at his words, feeling the warmth of his support.

“What about you? What do you want to do when we grow up?” you asked, turning to look at him.

“Me?” He had looked at you, then back at the stars. “Aside from being with you, which is my ultimate dream, I want to become an engineer.”

“An engineer?”

“Yeah… I want to build a big house for us. A really big house.”

You had felt a pang of emotion then, knowing how much he longed for a family and a place to call home.

“And you, Han?” you ask now, watching as his smile grows even wider.

“I’m now a licensed engineer.”

“Oh my God, really?!” You can’t contain your excitement, jumping up from your seat to hug him again. “I’m so proud of you, Han! You finally achieved your dream.”

He laughs, happiness radiating from both of you as you hold each other.

“I’m proud of us,” he says, hugging you back tightly.

You pull away, a little embarrassed by your outburst. “I’m so sorry, I just got so happy to hear that, Han.” You sit back down, smiling shyly.

“It’s okay, I’m really happy for us too.”

Han goes on to tell you about his work. He’s the engineer responsible for a new apartment complex in the city. That’s why you crossed paths again. As he talks, you listen intently, your heart swelling with pride for the man he has become.

You nearly tear up as he shares his journey—the hardships, the trials, the long years of studying. He worked hard, from kindergarten all the way to college, never losing sight of his dream. And now, he’s living it.

“I’m finished talking about me. Now, let’s talk about you,” he says, turning the focus back to you.

You fall silent, memories flooding back. You remember the times when you almost gave up on your dream, when no one bought your books, and your work gathered dust on the shelves. You remember walking through bookstores, seeing your book in the corner, covers nearly torn from being ignored.

You remember the despair, the feeling that maybe your dream was just that—a dream. But then, something changed. A light entered your life, lifting you up, guiding you to where you are now. It was hard—so hard—but you persevered, and now you’re here, a successful author with stories that touch people’s hearts.

Tears fill your eyes as you tell him this, the emotions too strong to hold back.

“I’m sorry, I got carried away,” you laugh through the tears, wiping them with a tissue he hands you.

He’s still a gentleman, just like he always was.

“I’m glad for you,” he says softly.

“I’m glad for us,” you reply, feeling a profound connection to him, even after all these years.

“What will happen after we achieve our dreams?” you had asked him once, walking together along a tree-lined path. It was fall, and you kicked at the leaves, watching them swirl in the breeze.

“We’ll get married. I’ll buy you the shiniest ring in the world,” he had said, his voice full of determination.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Even if it’s not the shiniest ring in the world… I’ll still marry you.”

“For real?”

“Yes. You’re the only one I want to spend my life with. You’ll build our big house, and I’ll be the most famous writer in the world. We’ll be happy together, forever.”

“And you’ll still wear the shiniest ring in the world because that’s what you deserve,” he had said, holding your hand and kissing it gently.

“I love you,” you had mumbled, your heart full of emotion.

“I love you too.”

And under the falling leaves, you had kissed him for the first time.

The conversation between you both gradually trails off, leaving an unspoken tension hanging in the air. The café's ambient sounds—the quiet clinks of cups, the murmur of distant conversations—fade into the background. It feels as though the world outside has paused, allowing you both to be suspended in this fragile moment. You’re unsure if he remembers the past as vividly as you do, but meeting him again has stirred memories you had long buried. The memories of the happy moments you shared, the laughter, the dreams—it all comes rushing back with a bittersweet intensity.

There’s a question burning in your heart, one that you’ve held onto for years. But as you open your mouth to speak, the words falter on your lips. You hesitate, the weight of the past pressing down on you. You’re not sure if you should ask—if you even have the right to.

"Let’s break up," you had said, your voice trembling as you turned your back on him, trying to hold yourself together. The words tasted bitter, foreign, as they left your mouth.

"Why?" His voice had cracked, laced with confusion and desperation, forcing you to turn and face him. The sight of his pleading eyes, full of pain, made your resolve waver.

"I don’t know. I don’t deserve you. I don’t love you anymore…" The lie felt like a knife twisting in your chest, each word cutting deeper. You couldn’t look him in the eye, knowing that the truth would betray the facade you were trying to maintain. "And… we’re leaving. We won’t be coming back."

You forced the tears to stay at bay, but when you heard the way his voice cracked, the dam you had built burst. The tears you had tried so hard to hold back streamed down your face, unstoppable.

"Why would you do that to me?" he had asked, his voice barely above a whisper, full of hurt.

"I don’t know. You should find someone else to achieve your dreams with. I have things I need to focus on in my life too. I don’t want to spend my life tied to you," you had said, forcing yourself to face him as you delivered those final, hurtful words. The look in his eyes as he bowed his head, defeated, had nearly broken you.

He was only a boy then, but he had known what love was, what it meant to make someone a part of your life. You had been his life, his future, his everything. How could he continue when the one person he wanted to build that life with had just walked away?

And so, you had left him, without looking back, disappearing from his life as if you had never been a part of it.

But now, years later, here he is, sitting in front of you, smiling as if nothing had changed. He’s happy to see you, proud of the person you’ve become, despite the hurtful words you once threw at him. And that, more than anything, tears at your heart.

A single tear escapes your eye before you can stop it, and you quickly wipe it away, hoping he didn’t notice.

"So, do you have a family now?" The question slips out, carrying with it the years of wondering, of what-ifs.

"I…" he begins, but before he can finish, the door of the café chimes, and a beautiful woman walks in, her presence commanding attention. She makes her way to your table, and you watch as Han stands up to greet her, the fondness in his eyes unmistakable.

"Honey…" he says, and your heart skips a beat. The word echoes in your mind, heavy with implications.

Honey?

Confused, you watch as they hug each other warmly, the scene playing out before you like a slow-motion reel. It feels surreal, like you’re watching from a distance, even though you’re right there.

"Honey, this is my friend I told you about," Han says, introducing you with a smile. He then turns to you, his eyes meeting yours. "This is my fiancée."

Fiancée.

The word hits you like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of you. You force a smile, accepting her hand for a handshake, even as you feel a pang of pain in your heart

She sits down, joining your conversation with an easy grace, and you can’t help but notice how happy they are together. The way they look at each other, the subtle touches, the smiles—it’s clear that they’re deeply in love, a love that’s mutual and uncomplicated.

you look at the shiniest ring they were wearing.

You’re glad for Han. He deserves this happiness, this life he’s built. He’s finally living his dream, the dream that you once shared but were never meant to fulfill together. He’s found someone to continue that dream with, someone who will stand by his side as he builds the future you both once imagined.

The hurt lingers, but it’s softened by a genuine happiness for him. You’re happy that he’s happy, because that's what he deserve: happiness

Your thoughts are interrupted as the café owner sets your additional drinks down on the table. “Here’s your order,” he says. You murmur a soft thank you, still trying to process the whirlwind of emotions.

“No need to pay for your drinks,” the owner adds with a warm smile. “It’s on me.”

"No, I insist on paying for us," you replied, trying to cover up the flutter of in your chest.

"It's fine, babe," he said, chuckling as he gently pressed the matter.

"Really, it's okay," you laughed, looking between him and Han, who were both clearly confused by the exchange.

"Ah, by the way, I forgot to introduce you," you said, standing up with a smile. You gestured to the man beside you. "This is Hyunjin, the owner of the café."

"Hello, I'm Hyunjin," he said, extending his hand for a handshake. "I'm her boyfriend."

Han's eyes widened in surprise, his confusion evident as he looked between you and Hyunjin.

You laughed at Han's bewildered expression, and soon the table was filled with lighthearted laughter once again.

Life, you thought, was indeed full of surprises and plot twists. Just when you thought you knew how things would turn out, the unexpected happens.

But despite the twists and turns, one thing remains true: life is beautiful.

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ecoustsaintmein · 3 months ago

Text

ghosts (part i of ????)

part two here

pairing: paddy x eoin; rating: M. slow burn.

this was the first time they'd had this conversation as eric and killian. but it was as if they'd had this conversation, many years ago, many times before.

(or, paddy mayne and eoin mcgonigal, reincarnated as eric love from 'starred up' and killian from 'angel'. they meet again, during the heights of the pandemic -- but they don't remember - until much, much, much later).

the next quack he saw after oliver was dr wilson, who was a no-nonsense scottish lady who struck fear more than deputy governor haynes ever did. she was young but wise for her years, with curly dark hair and spectacles and a soft dundonian accent. turned out she knew oliver baumer from some forensic psychiatry conference but it wasn't like eric to show that he's interested to know more. no, he didn't miss oliver, he said to her in their one-to-one session. he missed his dad, though.

seven years later, eric is allowed parole on the grounds of good behaviour. the world around him has changed, and so has he. is he fully rehabilitated? has that bloody posh quack oliver baumer cured him of his violence?

dr wilson told him she knew about haynes and cardew and the comings and goings of the previous corrupt prison regime. oliver blew the whistle and there had been a massive investigation and as a result, most of the inmates' cases were reviewed, including eric's.

'what would you do, then,' eric once asked, 'if you manage to rehabilitate me? then you'd be out of work, won't ya?' but now eric realized that there were worse evils out there in the world that subsumes the hearts of men.

subsumes.

ha.

there was once a time when eric would laugh in the faces of those who would use big words like that. but since he spent more time with tyrone, hassan, ashley, dr wilson, he'd started reading and expanding his vocabulary. he's even started reading poetry.

sublimation was a word he recently learnt. dr wilson was drawing a timeline of his life and a map of his thought processes and how he came to be the way he was. some things in his past can't be changed, she said, but the way he responds to things, can be altered.

neville died of stage four prostate cancer five months ago. dr wilson fought for eric to be allowed to attend his dad's funeral. he even has a social worker now, nate, who is about the same age as he is, but is a tall, strapping bloke from liverpool with a heavy scouse accent. they talk shite about football and how neither of their teams were doing well in the prem.

then oliver visited him in prison, only to tell him that he's moving to new brunswick. where the hell's new brunswick? nova scotia, oliver said. new scotland?

canada, oliver nodded. because he said they needed psychologists there and the nhs pay was shite and for all his pains oliver wasn't a saint.

jews don't have saints, eric said. oliver looked at him for a moment before they both broke into laughter. well, eric shrugged. you're a saint enough for me. you've performed a miracle. i don't punch people when they smile at me wrong now.

five months later his parole application was accepted and he was free.

except. two months later the whole country went into lockdown.

and this was how he met that irish waif, killian, with the dark curls and the dark eyes and the accent no one can understand, especially when he spoke, words swallowed underneath that blue mask that everyone's got to wear.

he never got to witness that wide, easy smile of killian's in real life, until six months later, but then, that's another story.

they met as hospital volunteers in south london, during the height of the pandemic. they both live two flats apart on the same floor, in the same council tenancy building, just ten minutes walk from st george's.

but they weren't friends, not straight away. there was nothing memorable about killian apart from that shocking mop of unruly curls on his head and that awful accent, though eric's learnt to keep quiet and let killian repeat himself several times to the staff and patients on the ward; 'it's killian with a k, not a c like cillian murphy,' he'd said, pulling at his ID badge and pointing at his name. 'this is how i look like under this mask, by the way,' he says, and the patients will laugh. it's a terrible photo, worse than eric's own prison mugshot.

they were wary of each other just as eric was often wary of strangers. he's sublimated enough by being kind to patients and their relatives on the wards -- he doesn't need to continue wearing the same mask with other people.

his new social worker, subodh, once chided him for this.

everyone seemed to struggle with lockdown, but eric thrived. he's so used to isolation that he never ran out of ways to entertain himself.

the internet is a beautiful thing.

he didn't realize who it was, not at first. eric has his allowances and benefits and saves them up -- he's got no need for new trainers or clothes; and even with food he's rationing them up like he did in prison, he's not a glutton for mickey d's or domino's or that chinese takeaway across the street.

but eric's got urges, sometimes -- an urge that started out as a curiosity, ever since he found out that neville and ashley were together.

the internet is a beautiful thing.

eric's watched too many of those videos, now, but to say that he has a favourite or a type would be a stretch too far. he's even tried jacking off to them, but he couldn't even get hard -- not when all he could think about when he heard the men on screen moan was to think of ashley and his dad, together.

no.

he slammed his laptop shut (yes, the same laptop that he got for free from that scheme subodh signed him up for). he learnt how to use vpn. just because he spent his formative years in and out of prison doesn't make him a technological heathen.

but the next night he decided to watch some solo videos instead of acted porn, and this was how he ended up clicking on the profile of user @/cuchulainn1995.

he never shows his face, and despite the irish handle he speaks with an english (sussex?) accent. the first thing eric noticed is he's got a low, deep, growling voice, and such big hands, long beautiful fingers. one of the videos started with cu chulainn (that's how eric calls him now) wearing a white button-up shirt and slacks, but slowly he unbuttoned it and palms at his slacks, deft fingers unbuckling his belt. the hand motion on screen was slow, steady, confident. eric was utterly mesmerised by the way those hands floated across, like butterflies, as cu chulainn stripped down oh-ever-so-slowly.

he's wearing a lacy bra underneath the shirt, flat against his chest, and a lacy thong that could barely hold in his entire length. he's well hung, slim, but he hasn't even grown into his full girth yet, as he begins to pump himself through the lacy fabric.

against eric's will, he got hard too, as he watches this stranger tweaking his nipple under the bra and whispering filthy things about wanting to fuck a bad boy and wishing to destroy something beautiful. this man who talked of not wanting to be fucked, but to fuck. all while wearing that lacy bra and lacy thong that eric wanted to rip up with his teeth.

eric's never come so hard in his life.

maybe that's why all of those losers raided the tescos for toilet paper. for wanking to videos this good.

killian's the one who approached him first, at the canteen, while eric was flicking through the copy of 'oxford book of war poetry' he found amidst the old magazine stacks of hello! and ok! in the nursing office.

the blt sandwich was a bit dry, and the coffee stale. this was eric's excuse for coughing up his food and spluttering them all over the table, when killian sat in the chair in front of him and asked, 'what passing-bells for these who die as cattle?'

'what the fuck?' was eric's only illustrious response.

'-only the monstrous anger of the guns,' killian replied, voice muffled under the mask. 'wilfred owen.'

'i prefer robert graves.'

'of course.'

this was the first time they'd had this conversation as eric and killian. but it was as if they'd had this conversation, many years ago, many times before.

killian tore up his roll and dipped it in his golden vegetable soup. he pulled down his mask and ate voraciously. like he hadn't eaten in months.

it was the first time eric saw killian's face, in full.

killian smiled, as he licked soup off his fingertips, inadvertently making kissy noises as his lips left each finger. 'i prefer yeats,' he said, oblivious.

eric tried not to stare, he really did. there was something about the movement that was so familiar to him.

but he couldn't place it.

he also thought, that birthmark on killian's left hand looked familiar too --

but surely not?

eric's throwing money he doesn't have to cu chulainn, subscribing to his live videos and in his head thinks that he's having a parasocial relationship with this faceless man with a beautiful body, like one of those marble statues the brits pilfered from ancient greece.

his colouring was dark, gingery, and eric wondered if they were as coarse as his own hair. eric wondered if he was as dark, or darker in real life.

in the busy chatbox filled with filthy comments from horny subscribers, eric once gathered the strength to type, 'if ur english why the name cu chulainn?'

eric watched the slight pause in the body language, face unseen from the neck above. and then, for a split second, the sussex accent switched to a soft irish lilt, 'who says i'm english?', and eric thought, 'i've heard this voice before.'

but eric forgot everything when cu chulainn started his show, and when he called his audience a 'good boy'.

eric thought it was a private message just for him.

they bumped into each other, at the aldi queue for the self-service checkouts, a metre apart. eric eyed the shite killian's got in his basket -- bananas, spinach, macaroni, yorkshire tea and a bar of dairy milk. eric eyed his own -- pot noodles, crisps, rich tea biscuits. then killian waited for him outside, humming mindlessly, a foldable umbrella in hand. it's started drizzling -- then raining, hard, unheard of for tooting, before walking up to their flat together.

eric pulled up his hoodie and made a point not to stand under killian's umbrella, although he's getting drenched like a wet soppy dog and killian called him out for it. 'stop being an eejit and get under the brolly,' he said, without raising his voice, and eric acquiesced.

it's only natural that when the government announced that 'members of a household could be part of another household' as a 'support bubble', that eric became killian's.

and killian eric's.

subodh told him that it's good that he's found a friend, though under no circumstances did eric admit that killian was 'a friend'. they had nothing in common, he said. apart from the poetry and the football (why does he support liverpool? he's irish, for fuck's sake).

eric's been in killian's flat, which was a mirror image of his own, except that they were filled with the most bizarre trinkets when eric's was more spartan. killian never let him inside his bedroom, though, and eric's never pressed further.

killian grew herbs in his flat. a pot of chilli, too. there was a time when he grew up on a farm, he'd said, and everything he ate was from the land around him, because he learnt how to grow them. he learnt how to forage in the wild, he learnt how to slaughter animals. he's good with a machete and an axe too, he'd said, before he realized he'd said too much and fell silent.

this was when eric knew that there was more beyond the softness of killian's visage - there were dark secrets there, hidden behind those eyes, underneath those long, dark lashes.

eric spent more time at killian's flat than at his, since the support bubble rule was introduced. killian can cook. and for some reason, despite saying that he's living on benefits too, he's got subscriptions to all the streaming services and has the latest games on his ps.

eric wondered where he got the money from.

it didn't take long for him to find out.

in eric's defense, it was killian who told him to fetch his phone charger from the bedroom.

killian's bedroom, which for the past three months had been off limits to eric, because the door was always shut and killian had never invited him in, not even for a casual 'this is my room' tour. boundaries. if there's one thing he's learnt from oliver and dr wilson and the likes of 'em, it's to learn how to respect people's boundaries.

it's the grey wall and the bedspread that caught eric's eyes first. his first thought was, surely not. his second thought was, surely not.

it wasn't as if there were toys splayed across the room for eric to see. the room was pristine, unlike the mess that was the living room, but eric had just seen one of cu chulainn's videos yesterday and this was where he had sat.

and the laundry basket was in the corner of the room. there was no weird smells, no bras, no lacy thongs - but he noticed the slacks and the white button down shirt. killian had never worn slacks and a white shirt to work, he was always in his casual stripey t-shirt before he changes into scrubs, and then, oh then, there's his belt.

the belt.

the images of killian's fingers, on the ps controller, or when he picks up a brown roll and dips it into soup during lunch hour, come rushing back. the birthmark on the back of killian's left hand, as he unbuckles his belt and unzips his slacks and touches himself. the way his knuckles disappear as he works his fingers up into himself.

and he hears killian's irish lilt, now, in cu chulainn's forced english voice. eric realizes now that he's one of the men who's paid for the way that killian's living.

eric doesn't feel anger. he doesn't feel panic. he's floating, in this room, because he's always seen it through the pixels of his laptop screen, but never like this. he doesn't even know whether he wants to hate killian or hate himself, because at the end of the day eric was the one who had been searching for it, again and again, like a man obsessed; addicted. killian was just there, doing his thing.

killian had been here, last night, doing his thing. and eric had fantasised of doing more, imagined that he could be touched the same way, on this very same bed. eric leans down and touches the ikea bedspread, clean - it's as if killian's washed all the stains off of it from last night, and the room itself smells woody, citrus-y. it smells like killian.

it smells nice.

killian barges in and asks what's taking so long, wooden spoon in hand, flour dust on his nose and cheeks. he's attempting to make sausage rolls from scratch, he says.

eric's eyes glaze over, like he's neither here nor there. he only ever had sausage rolls from greggs and his own mum was a terrible cook, so homemade pastries were out of the question.

the phone charger is still plugged in at killian's bedside, where he's dumped his camera and lighting equipment in a storage box. eric pretends not to see it, and hands the phone charger to killian, careful not to let their fingers touch.

'you ok?' killian asks, concerned.

'yeah,' eric lies. 'it's just that, i've never been in your room before. it's nice,' he says --

-- which isn't a lie.

killian softens, as he tilts his head to one side and squints at eric. 'aye, because you never asked, ya daftie.'

it's almost fond.

some nights eric will wake up, alone in his bed, grouching. he remembers the night he was about to be executed by the prison guards, to make it look like he's hung himself, before neville saved him.

he dreamt of walking out of prison, with no one to greet him but a dreary, empty council flat near tooting broadway.

some nights, eric will wake up, alone in his bed, grouching. but this time, he doesn't remember that night when he was about to be executed the prison guards, to make it look like he's hung himself, before he ended up walloping all of them, before walking out into the hot desert sun.

he dreamt of walking out of prison, but this time killian is there, saying, 'the dead arose and appeared to many,' -- except this isn't killian and he isn't eric, and eric struggles to remember the name of this man who looks so much like killian and yet just isn't.

his mannerisms are still the same, though, from the way he stretches and yawns and grins like a cheshire cat, and he is as generous with his touches as killian was. this man laughs at his unfunny jokes about sweating in hospitals and nightclubs and getting someone's goat, and serves him soup from the gazelle that eric-who-is-not-eric has allegedly shot.

killian-who-is-not-killian smiles, as he licks the soup off his fingertips, inadvertently making kissy noises as his lips leave each finger, and eric thinks, oh.

oh.

paddy, he says.

eric wakes.

at lunchtime, killian shows him an empty notebook that one of the elderly patients had gifted him, on late shift last night. it's worn and battered, faded ink on the yellowed pages.

'she stopped me in the corridor and told me i had to have it,' he says, 'and then she was gone.'

'which ward was this?' paddy asks. 'maybe she's just a bit off, ya know, with delirium.'

'aye, it was off rodney smith ward,' killian nods, before leafing through the pages again, carefully.

a note falls out.

'from paddy, to eoin,' killian reads out loud, squinting to make out the words.

'eoin,' eric says, weighing the word on his tongue, before deciding that he enjoys the way his lips have moved, the way his throat has closed, to form the lovely sound ringing between them.

'paddy,' killian agrees.

'so, the sand of the desert couldn't keep your soul buried, eh eoin?'

killian thinks, when he was growing up, his real da used to say: 'coincidence was god's way of being anonymous.'

but this isn't what he chooses to believe.

he believes it's more like poker: life won't always give him easy hands, but it'll be down to killian how he chooses to play it.

so he chooses to believe that it was out of his own free will that he chose to sit at that table and quoted wilfred owen at eric love.

he chooses to believe that it was out of his own free will that he chose to wait outside aldi in the pouring rain, umbrella in hand, to walk eric love home.

he chooses to believe that it was out of their own free will that they became friends, despite the dreams that he had been having lately: of quiet conversations in flimsy tents, of secret trysts under the desert moon.

'when it was the desert, and you, and me,' killian thinks --

only those words weren't his, nor were they eoin's, but from a fragment of eoin's soul that paddy's carried with him.

from egypt to sicily to normandy.

from dublin to ballymena to newtownards.

and now, to fucking tooting, of all places.

how poetic.

he couldn't find the woman again. she was, he thinks, not of white-european descent, and her accent was foreign, but killian had thought nothing of it when she handed him the notebook--

-- and disappeared.

the nurses had never seen her before, when killian attempted to describe her. and with everyone wearing masks, it became even harder to identify who killian was talking about, and the nurses looked at killian as if he was still hungover from whatever he'd smoked the night before.

killian will call her 'eve', he thinks,

and the notebook his forbidden fruit,

these phantom memories are akin to a serpent.

'take a bite,' they call out to killian;

-- and so he does.

this way, at least, he'll live.

tbc.

part two here

#paddy x eoin #paddy mayne #eoin mcgonigal #sas rogue heroes #eric love #i wrote this in the middle of a chest infection and not sleeping and i don't know if i'll ever finish it #i too am delirious and it probably shows in the prose #one day when i have regained my sanity i will reread this and clean this up and post it to ao3 #i urge you to at least watch 'angel' to get some of the references about why killian is the way he is #and also 'starred' up to get the prison references because some events which happened to eric in the film was reminiscent #of what also happened to paddy in the show #before anyone asks i'm not a londoner and idk i just like writing to wax romantic lyrical about the stops on the northern line

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lockes-woods · 4 months ago

Text

The Proposal

This was a request from a while ago that I've only been able to fully get around to now (Sorry about the wait).

Request: Dom nico robin x subby male reader please (although I'm only on water 7 atm) (Also maybe some jealousy?? I really liked it in the past fic you did)

Requested by: @l0stkokiri

WARNINGS: Forced Orgasms, Face Sitting, Hand Jobs, Oral (female receiving), Declarations of Love, Restraints, Sub Reader, Dom Robin, Jealousy to Smut to Fluff.

A/N: No joke this has been sitting in my WIPs for months. I was really anxious about writing an AMAB Reader because my reader inserts are almost all AFAB. I hope this is okay; I tried lol (Sorry again for the wait).

“Fuck,” you whined, falling back against the bed, cum splattered across your lower abdomen. You love sat at the foot of the bed in a chair facing you; gaze unwavering. You were beyond overstimulated. The hand of the arm she had sprouted next to your pelvis began to tease your cock’s head, willing your cock back to attention. Tears kissed at the corner of your eyes. While you both knew that you could easily get out of the hold her hands had on your wrist and ankles; you both also knew that you would never try. No matter the circumstances, you’d never risk hurting your love.

“Fuck, Mistress, ngh. Please. I’ll be a good boy.” You pleaded,

“Hmm,” She hummed unperturbed by your state, “Will you tell me what you were doing sneaking around that part of the Island?”

“Mhm,” you moaned, “I-I got lost,”

“You, Nami’s right-hand man while planning our navigation, got lost?” Robin asked, looking down her nose at you.

“Yes?” you reply before grunting at the sensation of her disembodied hand beginning to once again stroke up and down your cock at a leisurely pace, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you feel weak.

“So, you just got lost and somehow ended up in this island’s red-light district?” She asked, quirking a brow, “And the two sex workers you were talking to were only for ‘directions?’”

“Y-YES,” you moaned, as Robin’s hand began to gain speed.

“If you got the directions needed, how did you end up at that seedy pawn shop?” She continued to question you.

“I was looking for something,” you groaned out, as she teased you by slowing her pace. Even without her suspicions, Robin relished the feeling of control she had over you while you were in this state.

“Oh? And am I supposed to believe that you were ‘searching’ for whatever item you desire when you went and disappeared at the last two islands we docked at?”

“Yes-s,” You answered, a groan interrupting the end of your response.

“So, you want me to believe that you haven’t been pursuing anyone outside relationships? Despite the fact that you’ve been keeping secrets and being more distant.” She asked for the countless time since you got back to your shared quarters.

“No, fuck, Mistress I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you.” You gasped out, your response never faltering.

“And what exactly was the item you were looking for?” She finally relented, humoring you. If it weren’t for the fear of losing her altogether, and the haze you were in from your umpteenth orgasm you would have tried to stay strong longer.

“Fuck,” you gasped, rounding the corner on your next orgasm, “It’s in my right pants pocket.”

She gave you a skeptical look before rising up to her full height and stalking over to your forgotten trousers. She made quick work of them pulling a small jewelry box out of your pocket before dropping your pants. She swiftly opened it. It was now her turn to gasp, she covered her mouth in shock, tears welling up in her eyes, before she glanced back up at you, tears now freely falling.

“Marry me?” you asked, with a lopsided grin. In an instant, the hands that had been restraining you to the bed for the better part of the last two hours disappeared as fast as they had come. Before you could process what was going on, Robin was on you, pulling to in for a desperate kiss. All you could do was whine desperately, as the idol you hoped to call your fiancé straddled your lower abdomen. Your now unobstructed hands found her hips as you rubbed soothing circles there while basking in the warmth that was your partner’s affection. When she pulled back, you were shrouded in darkness as her hair curtained around your face; the only light came from the radiance of her lovely blue eyes.

“So?” you asked breathlessly.

“Yes, Yes, Yes,” she replied, pecking your face with kisses. You could only laugh in response before she pulled you in for a loving kiss. As always you let her take the lead.

“Aren’t you going to try it on?” you panted after pulling away pushing yourself up on your elbows. Robin carefully dislodged the engagement band, leaving the paired wedding ring as well as your wedding band that came in the set. She slid on the gold band decorated with a jade center that was surrounded by smaller diamonds. Tears now freely fell from her eyes as she admired the ring adorning her left hand.

“It’s perfect,” she sighed contently, before pulling you in for another kiss. You groaned into the kiss as you felt her grind against your lower stomach as the skirt of her dress began to ride up. You could feel her soaked underwear slide needily up and down your lower stomach. A whimper escaped you as she slid further down your abdomen catching you cock between her lower lips. You whined at the stimulation causing her to pull back.

“Too much?” she asked, making no attempt to move.

“Yeah, fuck,” you shared a groan as her clit caught on the head of your dick.

“Sorry, love,” she moaned, quickly sliding forward once again and sitting on your lower stomach, “I could get a toy-”

“No,” you quickly interrupted, “I-I mean if you want to you can, but I can think of a better seat for you to take.”

She smiled down at you, gently stroking your cheek. Your shyness when it came to being intimate with her would never get old. She basked in your apprehension around being assertive in all settings, but especially the bedroom.

“Oh? And where would that be?” she asked teasingly, “You're a big boy, you know how to ask nicely.”

“Please,” you began before swallowing the lump in your throat, “Can you please sit on my face mistress?”

“Of course,” she smiled warmly down at you, “You’ve been such a good boy, taking a punishment, you didn’t even earn so well,”

You found your eyes fluttering shut as she positioned herself over your face. You rested your hands on her hips, pulling her down so that her pussy was flush with your face. You smirked into her pussy, as she let out a gasp at the stimulation of her clit bumping into your nose. You quickly began to lap at her seem over her panties. You were able to nose at the offending clothing and open her lips so you could get to her core. You groaned into her as she laced your hair between her fingers, needily tugging at it as you lapped against her entrance teasingly. Your teasing only lasted for a second, before she pulled hard on your hair keeping you flush against her as she began to rock against your face.

“Fuck,” you could hear her moan above you, as you doubled down on your efforts to make her cum. You focused on her most sensitive spots as one of your hands came down to part her lower lips and gave enough room for your tongue to thrust into her. Robin’s reaction was immediate as she began to shamelessly fuck against your face. Your other hand left her hip, giving her full control as you thrusted your fingers in alongside your tongue. Your cock twitched at the sweet moans and whimpers your now fiancé let out. You relished the noise; she was never this vocal. You decided she had had enough teasing as you began to curl your fingers and rub against her front wall as you sucked her clit into your mouth. It was only a matter of seconds before her release splashed against your face. A whine in turn escaped you as she pulled hard on your hair, using it as a lifeline as she fell apart on your face. You fingered her through her release before she fell slack against you and rolled to the side.

“Fuck,” she moaned, as she came down from her high. Your synchronized pants were the only noise to be heard. She had just calmed down enough to recognize your cock was still standing at attention.

“Love, would you like help with that?” she asked, now kneeling beside you.

“Yeah, I’m just really-” you paused letting out a gentle curse as she wrapped her hand around yours.

“Shh, it’s okay love, I’ll be gentle,” she said smiling down at you, “At least for now.”

She kept her promise as she jerked you off with a firm, but light touch. Just going fast enough to ensure your release. While her disembodied hand jerked you off, she slipped off her dress, along with her soaked panties. Robin used her now discarded dress to whip her cum off your face gently, now entirely naked outside of her engagement ring. You came as she pulled you in for a lazy kiss. You panted lightly as she pulled your flush against her chest, pressing a kiss into your hairline.

“I love you,” she said, pulling you as close as possible, legs tangled.

“I love you too,” you sighed contently, “I’m sorry about all the secrecy, I just wanted to find something as beautiful and unique as you are.”

Robin smiled down at you; tears began to once again well in her eyes. She pulled you in for one last kiss before you submitted to your exhaustion and began to drift off to the sound of her steady heartbeat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Now that I was finally able to write this one-shot Imma start working on the celebration countdown. Since it's no longer the countdown until New Year's I am going to randomize the days/write what gives me the most inspiration at the time.

I hope you're all doing well,

-Locke

#nico robin x reader #dom nico robin #nico robin x amab reader #cross posted on ao3 #one piece #one piece one shot #one piece smut #warning in description #proposal #amab reader #Reader's Trying to Lock That Shit Down #engagement

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rxmqnova · 1 year ago

Note

OK its kinda dark but can you do a moms scarlizzie find out their daughter has an ed?

We'll do this together

Y/N: 16 years old Scarlett: mom Lizzie: mama ——————————————————

NO ONE'S POV It started a few months ago. Y/N's never wanted it to get this far, it wasn't even intentional, but now she knows it's serious… and that she needs help.

It started during one of the most stressful school weeks Y/N has ever had. She was too stressed and anxious to eat breakfast, sometimes also dinner and after some time even lunch.

The week turned into weeks, weeks into months and it came to the point she really wanted to eat, but just couldn't.

She's tried forcing herself to eat multiple times, yet nearly everything she eats she ends up throwing up.

She's even tried telling her moms, but both are currently in the middle of filming and seem really busy and stressed out. She doesn't want to add them more work.

Though when she saw how much her ribs are showing this morning, that was it for her. She needs to tell her mothers no matter what.

This evening is the first one in a while when Scarlett and Lizzie are both home, so Y/N decided it's time to tell them. She knows her mothers love her no matter what and would do anything to help her, that she doesn't need to be scared to tell them anything… yet she feels so incredibly nervous right now.

She takes a deep breath, stepping out of her bedroom, and makes her way downstairs, knowing her moms are there.

As expected, Y/N finds her mothers in the kitchen, making dinner. Just the smell of the food already makes her nauseous.

She stands there for a while, just watching her mothers cook and gathering the courage to finally tell them the truth.

"Mom? Mama?" Y/N calls quietly, just enough for the two to hear.

"Oh, hi, sweetheart. Dinner's almost finished" Lizzie smiles warmly at her daughter, tilting her head in confusion when she notices how nervous her daughter looks.

"I. Hm… I need to talk to you about something" Y/N admits, nervously playing with the sleeves of her hoodie.

"Is everything okay, honey?" Scarlett watches her daughter in confusion just like Lizzie.

"I-I need to tell you something important. Can we maybe go to sit? On the couch?" Y/N asks, feeling like if she's gonna stay here any longer she won't be able to hold it anymore.

Scarlett and Lizzie share a worried look, both wondering what made their daughter so nervous.

They haven't really been home the past months due to a lot of work, so they haven't had much time to spend with their daughter and unfortunately haven't noticed any change.

"Of course, sweetheart. We'll be there in a minute" Lizzie gives the poor nervous girl a smile, so Y/N nods and walks over to the living room, taking a seat on the couch.

The minutes feel more like endless hours to the girl, her palms are getting sweaty, so she keeps wiping them on her sweatpants while looking around, hoping her mothers would finally come, so it would all be finally behind her.

Few more minutes pass and both, Lizzie and Scarlett, join their daughter on the couch, sitting on each side of her.

"What did you want to talk about, baby?" Scarlett asks, breaking the uncomfortable silence that's been filling the room.

"… I-I need help. I-I promise I didn't do that on purpose. It just happened and I really tried to fix it, but I-I just can't. And I-"

"Hey, hey. Slow down, Y/N/N. We need to know what the issue is, so we can help, sweetheart" Scarlett stops her daughter's blabbering, placing her hand on top of Y/N's and giving her a soft smile. "Did anything happen at school?"

"No, no. I… I just. I have problems with eating, mom… I had a lot of stuff to school and it was stressing me out. I was so stressed that I couldn't even eat and it lasted for weeks. I really tried to fix it, but everything I eat just comes out immediately and I don't know what to do" Y/N blurts out with a sigh, tears running down her cheeks as she's looking at her mothers who are both staring at her in shock.

"… Honey, why didn't you tell us anything sooner?" Lizzie asks softly, taking her daughter's hand in hers and running her thumb over Y/N's knuckles.

"You've had a lot of work and I didn't want to add to it. I thought I could fix it on my own, but I can't. I'm sorry" Y/N admits, looking down to avoid an eye-contact.

"Honey, you always come first. No matter how busy we are, you can always come to us if you have any problem" Scarlett tells her daughter, using her thumb to wipe Y/N's tears away.

"Exactly. Nothing is more important for us than you, honey. We're always here for you" Lizzie adds, wrapping her arms around her daughter on one side while Scarlett does the same on the other. "We'll do this together. Everything will be okay again"

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

Happened to me a few years ago. I was so stressed and anxious that I just couldn't eat, but luckily it didn't get to the point I'd need professional help.

ScarLizzie masterlist

Masterlist

#scarlett johansson #elizabeth olsen #scarlett johansson daughter #elizabeth olsen daughter #scarlett x y/n #scarlett x reader #lizzie olsen #scarlett johansson x you #scarlett johansson x reader #lizzie x reader #lizzie olsen x reader #lizzie olsen x you #elizabeth olsen x y/n #elizabeth olsen x you #elizabeth olsen x reader #scarlett johansson fanfiction #elizabeth olsen fanfic #fanfiction

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punchdrunkdoc · 1 day ago

Text

Part 4, Chapter 19

Summary: After the events of S3, Matt Murdock is trying to once again balance life as a lawyer and a vigilante. But he’s been scarred by loss and betrayal - will a mysterious new neighbour help him heal? Or will her secrets drag him back into the darkness? Notes: This is a slow burn romance with an original female character, told in 4 parts. There is mystery, intrigue, action/violence and angst - all the good stuff!

Also available on AO3 and Wattpad

Masterlist

Reference pics

————–

PART 4

Chapter 19

Matt shifted his weight in the chair, eager to stand up and stretch his legs after spending most of the past 16 hours sitting on his ass.

Eight hours in a cramped economy seat to London; 6-hours in a hard plastic chair in Heathrow awaiting his connection; another two-hour flight to Geneva, then a 30-minute cab ride north of the city. After all that travelling he was stiff, jet-lagged, exhausted, and running 48 hours behind Calina.

But he’d almost caught up to her now. He’d made it to Switzerland. He’d made it to the UN compound. And he’d made it inside.

That last step had always been the main obstacle in his plan to find Calina - although calling it a plan was massively overstating things.

“You’re flying halfway around the world on a wing and a prayer,” Foggy had said while dropping him off at JFK. “And I know you like to think you’re charming and can smooth talk your way into anywhere, but this is the UN, man. The United Nations.”

“I’ll figure something out.”

“Please tell me ‘figuring something out’ doesn’t involve stowing your suit in your carry-on and sneaking onto the base as Daredevil.”

“Okay, I won’t tell you that.”

“Matt!”

“I’m kidding, Fog. It’ll be fine. And if it doesn’t work out, at least I’ll have tried.”

“Well, as grand romantic gestures go, I can’t fault you on this one, buddy.”

“It’s not a gesture. I’m just done being passive when it comes to Calina - I can’t wait around here again for her to come to me.”

Despite ample time - 16 hours of it, in fact - sitting on his ass with nothing else to do, Matt never did figure out how he was going to get admitted to the Widow’s base. So he was surprised and immensely grateful when fortune decided to smile on him for once in his life.

He’d been in the middle of a tense standoff with the heavily armed soldier at the checkpoint leading into the base, when Katya had driven past. After spluttering out a shocked greeting, she’d made some calls and gotten him escorted to this room in the building adjacent to the Widow’s barracks.

Which meant he was close, so close, to where Calina was. But he apparently needed to go through some vetting process first with the owner of this office.

The door behind Matt opened, and a brusque female voice called out, “Mr. Murdock?”

Matt got to his feet, shifting his cane to his left hand and holding out his right. “Yes. Dr Gossard, I take it?”

There was a moment of hesitation. Then he felt the older woman take his proffered hand. “That’s right. It’s nice to finally meet you, Mr. Murdock.”

“Call me Matthew, please.”

“Matthew,” she agreed, settling into her chair behind the large desk.

“You said ‘finally meet’,” Matt commented, sitting back down.

“Yes. Calina has talked about you. Although, I find it interesting that she never mentioned you were visually impaired. Why do you think that is?”

Matt had no idea. But the question told him one thing at least. “You’re Calina’s therapist.”

“Guilty as charged.”

Matt adjusted his glasses, suddenly confronted with the possibility that this woman knew a hell of a lot more about him than he was comfortable with. “So you and Calina have spoken about me.”

“Actually for the first five years, she did everything in her power to avoid speaking of you. But over the past couple of months, yes, we’ve talked about you. It’s my professional opinion that you’re integral to her recovery. Which is why I have to ask you - what exactly happened between you and Calina earlier this week?”

Matt responded with a closed-lipped smile and a shake of his head. “I don’t think I’m comfortable sharing that without Calina’s permission.”

He sensed the doctor studying him for a few moments, her pen tapping against her lip as she did so. “That’s a good answer.”

“I wasn’t aware this was a test.”

“No? Why do you seem so nervous then?”

Matt stopped fidgeting with his cane, and consciously relaxed his shoulders.

Dr Gossard just laughed at his efforts. “You look almost as uncomfortable in that chair as Calina does. I wonder if it’s profession or character that’s to blame.”

“Meaning?”

“You’re a defence attorney correct?”

“Yes.”

“Then I imagine you’re the one used to asking the questions, to steering the conversation. Have you ever been in therapy?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but no.”

“Hmmm, that makes me wonder if it’s character instead, then. Do you have secrets you’d rather people didn’t pry into, Mr. Murdock?”

Matt raised his eyebrows. “Did you ever consider there was a third option? That maybe I’m a foreign national who sought unauthorised entry to a UN paramilitary base, and I’m worried about being deported?”

“Something tells me you don’t worry yourself too much over matters like that.”

Matt shrugged. “I’m a really good lawyer.”

“Be that as it may, I have to commend you for making this trip. I think Calina will be pleasantly surprised.”

Matt tried not to exhale in relief. It was the first hint that the doctor was actually going to let him see Calina. All of her probing questions and taunts up until now had felt like the prelude to being thrown off the base, or arrested - or both.

“She needs someone with a bit of backbone,” the doctor continued. “Someone who won’t let her…wallow…in her more negative thoughts, or run away when things get difficult. But she also needs someone who can be patient with her. Can you be patient, Matthew?”

He was back to ‘Matthew’. He took that as another positive sign. “I can be whatever she needs.”

“Another good answer.”

“Well, since I’m doing so well, can you answer a question of mine?” Matt asked, trying to keep the snark out of his voice.

“If it’s permissible within the bounds of doctor-patient confidentiality, yes.”

“How is Calina? She was upset the last time I spoke to her.”

Gossard sighed, sounding genuinely concerned. “She’s still upset. We both agreed that she needed a little space from the other people on base, so her and Nika are staying down by the lake for a couple of days.”

“Is Nika another Widow?”

Gossard laughed again. “In a manner of speaking.”

Matt frowned at the strange answer, but had a more important issue to raise. “So where does that leave me? Will you allow me to speak with her?”

Gossard’s chair creaked as she leaned back and swivelled it side to side. “There are people higher in the chain of command than me who aren’t happy with your presence here, and would answer ‘no’ to that question. But as I explained to them, this is the Widows’ home. They’re not conscripted soldiers on a base. They’re women who stepped up and volunteered to help when the world went FUBAR. They’re entitled to have visitors in their home. The issue just never came up before.”

“Calina’s always led the way,” Matt commented, with a note of pride in his voice.

“She has. And she doesn’t give herself enough credit for that.”

“I know. But I do.” Matt had always thought of her as unbelievably brave.

“I believe you. It’s one of the reasons I’m going to allow you to stay here, with Calina.”

Matt sat upright, not expecting that. “Really?”

“There are some conditions,” Gossard warned. “You don’t get free run of the place. Katya will escort you to Calina’s room to pick up some more clothes for her. She will then escort you directly to the chalet by the lake, and you will remain there for the remainder of your stay - which is to be no more than 5 days.”

Matt got to his feet and held out his hand again. “That’s more than generous. I appreciate it, Dr. Gossard.”

She grasped his hand in hers. “Don’t make me regret it.”

With that barely-veiled threat, he was dismissed. Katya was waiting for him outside, leaning against the wall of the corridor, hands shoved in her pockets. When she spotted him, she straightened up and took his arm, steering him towards the exit and outside into the fresh wintery air. “It’s just until we’re away from other people,” she whispered, indicating her hold on him.

“How many people here know about my…?”

“Secret abilities?” she guessed. “Just the Widows.”

“Not Gossard?” The way she’d spoken about secrets had made Matt wonder.

“No,” Katya laughed. “She may seem omniscient, but it’s just an act.”

She tapped a number onto a keypad and led Matt inside another building. This one was quieter, the hallway empty. But Matt could hear murmured conversations and the sounds of cutlery scraping against plates from a large room off to his left.

Katya released his arm. “This is home,” she said. “Calina’s room is just down here.”

His first impression of Calina’s room was that it was depressingly empty.

As Katya opened a small closet and grabbed some clothing, Matt took in the space. There was a single bed pushed up against the window; a desk next to the door; a tiny en suite bathroom with just enough room for a shower, sink and toilet…and that was about it. It reminded him of his dorm room in college - functional but impersonal.

And so empty.

Matt ran his fingers along the shelf over the desk, finding nothing but a single book and a small framed photograph. He traced the spine of the book and flipped through it, smiling sadly when he realised it was the copy of Jekyll and Hyde he’d once gifted her. But where were her other books? Where was the small collection she’d started in New York? Why wasn’t every spare inch of space taken up by the novels and scientific texts and volumes of poetry she’d surely amassed over the past five years?

He replaced the book and lifted the frame next. “What’s this photo of?”

“Hmmm? Oh, it’s Calina holding a baby. The mom - Karen, I think she’s called - gave it to her as a Christmas present last year. It’s a nice picture.”

His fingers glided over the glass front, as if he could discern the image beneath just through touch. The thought of Calina with a baby in his arms made his heart ache in a way he didn’t want to think about…

He quickly replaced the photo and resumed his exploration of Calina’s life. There was a dressing gown draped over the end of the bed. He rubbed the material between his fingers, frowning at the feel of simple cotton, when he knew how much Calina loved to wrap her skin in silks and cashmeres and other sumptuous fabrics.

A target hung on the back of the door, a throwing knife sticking out of it. Matt touched the handle, imagining the whistle as it flew across the room, the thump as it sank into the wood. Was that how Calina occupied her time? Instead of reading, she threw knives?

His foot hit something soft as he turned away from the door. He bent down and ran his hands over a fleece-lined…dog bed? A chew toy lay abandoned in the middle of the bed, the rubber ring still slightly damp with saliva…

And Gossard’s laugh suddenly made sense. “Nika’s a dog.”

Calina had a dog.

Suddenly the small, barren room seemed slightly less depressing. The lack of books, the lack of comforts…it was all slightly more bearable.

Because she had a dog.

“Well, yeah,” Katya replied, zipping up the closure on the bag. “The two of them are attached at the hip. You should have seen how crazy Nika went the other day when Calina returned home.”

Home.

This was Calina’s home. And while there was barely anything homely about it, it was her home, nonetheless. Her sisters were here. Her dog was here. Her work was here.

Her life was here.

And he’d gotten angry at her for wanting to return to it. For daring to leave him in New York. Matt hung his head, still turning the toy over in his hands. Jesus, he was an asshole sometimes.

Would she even want him here, after the way he’d behaved?

Was coming here the right thing? Would she be happy to see him, or would it just upset her again?

The questions plagued him as he followed Katya outside once more. His footsteps grew heavy as they trekked across a clearing and along a path through the woods. And the closer he got to Calina, the more apprehensive he became.

“I’ll let you go the rest of the way on your own,” Katya said, startling Matt out of his introspection. “I assume you can tell which way to go?”

Matt nodded. He’d picked up the scent of the lake a couple of minutes ago, as well as the sounds of footsteps on pebbles, and a dog woofing happily.

“Good.” Katya turned to leave, but hesitated for a moment. “I’m glad you’re here,” she finally said.

“Really?” Matt replied, not feeling particularly glad of it himself.

“Yes. We haven’t had much luck persuading Calina that she’s the same person we love and care about. She seems to think she’s become this…irredeemable, cowardly, crazy woman.”

Matt thought back to the other night. To Calina’s words.

‘You should be angry, or something. Disappointed.’

‘I’m a complete mess.’

‘You have a lot more faith in me that I do in myself.”

It broke his heart that she thought so little of herself, when she was the bravest, most amazing woman he’d ever met.

And if nothing else came out of this ‘grand gesture’, convincing her of that would be worth the whole damn endeavour.

———

Calina threw the stick as far as she could, and Nika took off, loping along the water’s edge to retrieve it. One of her back paws landed in the water, and she hopped away on three legs, shaking off the moisture.

Calina smiled. Her dog did not like to get wet. In fact, this was the closest she’d gotten to the lake since they’d been out here.

Calina, on the other hand, loved it. Not getting wet, per se - it was far too cold for that - but the tranquility of the lake, with the mountains looming in the distance, and the blue sky overhead…it was all so peaceful.

Exactly what she needed after her trip to New York. And after her fight with Matt.

Although calling it a fight was overstating things. She’d yelled and ranted and shoved him around, and he’d just…stood there and taken it. She’d insulted him, screamed lies at him, and he’d held onto her, desperate to make her stay.

She winced as her words rang in her head - as they’d been doing pretty much on a loop for the last two days.

God, she’d been so cruel to him.

The anger had overtaken her so quickly, so completely, until she’d felt like she was watching herself from afar, spewing hate and falsehoods, not recognising the sneer on her face or the venom in her voice.

And it wasn’t hard to pinpoint the trigger - her rage usually bled from fear.

She’d let herself imagine the pain of losing Matt again - of going through that grief again, after giving her heart to him a second time - and it had terrified her. Anger had followed, because it was a much easier emotion to deal with, even when it ended up hurting the people she loved.

Calina sighed and kicked at a pebble as she walked along the shoreline, wishing she had the courage to call Matt. To explain it all to him and apologise again. The frantic phone call to Karen that he’d intercepted - the one she’d made after the rage had worn off, and shame and regret had flooded in - hadn't been enough. She needed to talk to him.

But she was hiding away here instead, like the weak, pathetic chicken-shit coward that she was.

Nika barked, the sound jolting Calina out of her self-flagellation. It wasn’t her playful bark - it was the one that alerted to danger.

Calina grabbed the gun from her holster and spun around, taking aim at…Matt?

———

Matt dropped their bags and held up his hands. “Are you still that mad at me, sweetheart?”

“Matt?” Calina answered. Her voice was barely a whisper carried to him on the pine-scented air, but he could detect a multitude of emotions in that single syllable. There was plenty of shock. A dash of fear. And what he prayed was hope.

Her dog barked again, a series of short, sharp noises that screeched against his ears. The sound seemed to shake Calina out of her stunned inertia. She holstered her weapon, and shifted on her feet.

Matt sensed the tension in her muscles. He could hear her heart racing, and the sound of the rocks beneath her boots as she shifted her stance.

“Don’t run. Please don’t run.” Matt whispered the plea under his breath, begging her not to give in to her fear.

But she did run.

Straight towards him.

She flew across the pebbled shore, her long legs eating up the distance between them in seconds. Matt braced himself just in time to catch her as she launched herself in to his arms. He clamped her firmly against him, holding her off the ground. She held on just as tightly. “You’re here,” she whispered, her lips brushing against his neck as she spoke. “You’re really here.”

“I’m here.”

Nika bounded around them, barking and growling. Calina slid back to her feet and called out to her companion. “Ami, Nika. Ami.”

The dog calmed down immediately, responding to the command. Matt smiled, recognising the word for ‘friend’. “Your dog speaks French?”

“Well she did grow up in Switzerland.”

Matt laughed, all of his earlier trepidation forgotten - things couldn’t be so broken between them if Calina’s first reaction was to run into his arms. Well, her first reaction had been to pull a gun, but he was choosing to see that as a survival instinct and not a bad omen.

Matt crouched down, offering his hand to the dog. A wet nose nudged him as she sniffed and familiarised herself with his scent. He ran his fingers through her thick coat, and scratched behind her ears. “What breed of dog is she?”

“Half-husky, half-german shepherd. All trouble.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about her in New York?”

“I, uh, tried to. That morning. I was going to tell you that I needed to come back here, to see to Nika and…other things, but then…”

“But then I completely overreacted,” Matt finished, rising back up and taking her hand in his. He brought it to his lips, and pressed an apology to her skin. “I’m sorry. I should have let you explain—”

“No, I’m the one who’s sorry,” she replied. “God, the things I said, Matt, I didn’t mean any of it—”

“Hey,” he said, kissing the back of her hand again. “I know. I know it was just the anger speaking. Can we please just forget that morning ever happened? Can we start over?”

“I want to,” Calina whispered. “I just don’t know if I can. You’ve seen what I’m like now—”

“I have. I’ve seen you fall to pieces, and I’ve seen you panic. You’ve ran from me, and you’ve lashed out at me, and you’ve tried to hurt me, but I’m still here, Calina. I’m still in this.” He took her other hand, and held them both firmly in his. “And I want it to work. I want us to work. I want us to get to know each other again. I want to learn about your new life, and find my place in it. The only thing that matters is if you want that too. Do you? Do you want to be with me?”

She swallowed sharply, and Matt held his breath, waiting for her response. “Yes," she said. "Yes, I- I want to be with you, Matt. Even though it scares me to death, I want to be with you.”

“It scares me too, sweetheart. It always has. But it will be worth it, I swear. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you never regret it.”

Calina took a step closer, and squeezed his hands. “And I’ll do the same for you.”

Matt closed his eyes, releasing the tension he’d been carrying for days. He tipped his head forward to rest against hers and smiled. They stood like that for a long moment, hands clasped, heads bowed, with the heat of the setting sun sinking down towards the mountains behind them…and it almost felt to Matt like they were exchanging vows.

All the rest - the issues they still had to face, and all the practicalities they had to work out - all of it felt irrelevant in that moment as they pledged themselves to each other.

Matt captured her lips with his, sealing his commitment with a kiss.

————–

Shout-out to Nora Robert's The Search for the 'Ami' line. I love that book and couldn't resist!

We're going to be spending the next few chapters in Geneva. It's vacation time, baby! There'll be lots of talking and learning about each other. Lots of sex, and lots of mushy stuff. Stay tuned!

Tag list: @hollandorks @stilldreaming666 @sio-ina-bottle @tearoseart-blog @acharliecoxedfan @freckledbabyyy @chezagnes, @ricearoni84 @brittbratt4567

If you’d like to be added - let me know!

#daredevil #daredevil fic #tabula rasa #daredevil fanfic #matt murdock #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil x original female character #marvel's daredevil #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock x oc

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she-karev · 7 months ago

Note

The Lucas greys shot was so cute,just curious can you do a part 2 possibly. I love the Lucas Amelia link bond and Lucas and scout cousin cuteness please. Also makes me wonder if he ever told any of his add learning of it. ?

ADHD Reveal (Lucas Adams and Amelia Shepherd ADHD Imagine)

Age Rating: 12+

Chapters: One of One

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy

Canon Episode: Between Season 19 Episode 17 and 18

AN: Hey guys I know I’m late responding to this request but I’ve been busy with school and other one shots. I learned that October is ADHD awareness month so I thought it would be a perfect time to write this considering the theme. Like and reblog below and let me know what you think.

Summary: Amelia finds out her nephew Lucas has ADHD after accidentally ingesting his medication mistaking it for Aspirin. When she confronts him, he unloads his frustrations on her and their family for missing this.

Words: 5066

April 1st, 2023

“Adams!” Lucas Adams turns to find his chief resident, Amber DeLuca, inside the locker room holding a tablet ready to start the day, “You’re with me and Hunt today in the ER lets go.”

Lucas nods and quickly grabs his aspirin bottle to put inside his lab coat pocket. It’s not for a headache, it’s secretly storing his ADHD medication that he was recently prescribed two weeks ago with Nick Marsh’s help.

Ever since he found out he was neurodivergent Lucas felt everything come into clear focus on why no matter how hard he tries his mind wonders elsewhere. But with it comes a frustration not towards himself but towards his family. In a massive family of doctors how can a kid with clear signs of ADHD be dismissed as a problem child?

“Question Adams is today gonna be a busy or slow day in the ER?”

Lucas snaps out of his dark question to focus on his job that he hopes he can improve on now that he’s taking proper treatment and his focus is becoming more acute.

“Um doesn’t it usually vary?”

“It does.” Amber confirms, “But on April fool’s day the stupidity of the human race reaches heights even TikTok can’t record. Today people pull dangerous and straight up deadly pranks on others and guess who takes care of the damage.”

“First responders?”

“Who take them to us so we can make sure they live to see April 2nd. Now this is a popular prank, The Surfing Challenge, what are the common injuries from a teen riding a car like a surfboard?”

“Fractured pelvis, broken bones, road rash and brain injuries.”

“Correct, you’re with me all day. Any major traumas I have you will be by my side. Now normally I would request either Griffith or Kwan on my service but I personally requested you.”

Lucas looks genuinely shocked at that but knowing his boss thinks it’s a joke, “Is this an April fools prank to psych me for today?”

“Surprisingly no. I’ve noticed your improving work performance the past week, your able to multitask without royally screwing up and making mistakes that only a 1st year med student could make.”

Lucas furrows his eyebrows at that, “That was kind of a back handed compliment but thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” Amber states bluntly, “I’m taking you with me to really test you in a high stress environment. And the ER is the busiest room in this whole building. When patients come in, I am gonna point and yell, it’s how I operate so don’t take it personally.”

“I’ve learned not to at this point.” Lucas says as they head down the hall.

“See that is what I am talking about your finally learning, better late than never. I’m either gonna make or break you today so get your head in the game.”

“Yes Dr. DeLuca.” They enter the ER that is mostly empty this morning. Lucas spots an unopened water bottle at the station. He uncaps his aspirin bottle, pops the pill in his mouth before washing it down with the water.

“Incoming trauma two minutes out, gown and glove now!” Amber yells out to Adams who puts his aspirin bottle behind the station by a desktop before joining in on what will surely be a productive day.

Half an Hour Later

“Now you can see why you shouldn’t eat a spoonful of cinnamon.” Amber tells her teen patient who is breathing through an oxygen mask. He has brown smudges on his shirt and mouth that are from taking the cinnamon challenge. Once they opened his airway and cleared his lungs Amber set him up for oxygen therapy.

Adams looks over the chart for the lung function results, “His lungs are inflamed, should we put him on corticosteroids?”

“Let’s ask him.” Amber turns to the patient, “Simon, are you able to breathe without pain? Can you inhale without the mask? Let’s try.”

Simon takes the mask off and inhales causing him to couch violently, and Amber quickly puts the mask back on calming him down.

“Yep, give him 20 mg’s and call his parents they need to know their kid skipped school to eat cinnamon.”

Adams inserts the drug into the IV before going to the station to call Simon’s parents from the phone when he stops. The station is filled with files, tablets and pens but it’s not what’s on it that stops Lucas dead. His aspirin bottle filled with his Adderall prescription is missing.

Lucas quickly gets behind the desk and looks around the clutter for his bottle. He moves papers, puts tablets on top of the desk, and moves desktops to look in the back. His heart races as the gravity of this hits him, his Adderall is missing possibly in the hands of a doctor or nurse who is unknowingly taking speed.

Amber hears the clutter and looks to find her intern behind the desk moving objects around frantically. She sighs at the sight not expecting Lucas Adams to make a mess so soon after their shifts start. Amber turns to the nurse who looks puzzled by the scene as well.

“Monitor him please, I will be right back.” Amber snaps her gloves off and approaches her intern with a stern face. He doesn’t see her coming as he is on the floor of the station looking around the dirty floor.

“Adams I am almost afraid of what the answer might be but I am going to ask, what are you doing?”

Lucas’s head pops up from under, “Somebody took my aspirin, I need to find it.”

“I had high hopes for you today, Adams, it was a first and now it’s the last.” Amber pinches the bridge of her nose, “Aspirin is a dime a dozen ask a nurse to get you another-”

“No I need that bottle!” Lucas exclaims standing up and seeing his boss narrowing her eyes at him.

“Two things, 1. You do not interrupt me again, 2. You will tell me what is so important about that specific aspirin that warrants you to yell at the woman who can fire you with one call. Go.”

Lucas inhales and exhales to keep his anxiety under control before explaining in a hushed voice, “I was diagnosed with ADHD two weeks ago and the neurologist prescribed Adderall to take. I carry it with me inside a bottle of aspirin that I left at this station, and it’s gone which means someone took it with them by mistake.”

Amber stands there frozen for a moment to process before she laughs scaring Lucas who looks at her in shock. She laughs like it’s the funniest thing for a few moments before forming coherent words.

“Y-You’re pranking me, right?” Amber asks with a wide smile, “This is an April fools’ prank, oh Adams you almost gave me a heart attack, good on you.”

Lucas stands there frozen in place with a remorseful face that Amber sees causing her to gulp as her smile begins to die.

“Why aren’t you laughing? Laugh Adams so I know your messing with me, please!” Lucas looks down at his feet in fear causing Amber to frown as she realizes he’s telling her the truth. The chief resident inhales deeply to keep calm so that they don’t raise suspicion before moving closer to the intern asking in a low voice that sends shivers down Adams spine.

“Are you telling me that a doctor or nurse might be taking your ADHD medication by mistake causing them to be impaired and a danger to patients?”

Lucas stands there scared to give an answer that might have him punched. However, he knows silence will ensure his death so he gives a quick nod causing Amber to groan and turn to Owen Hunt who just entered the pit.

“Hunt!” Owen freezes at that shout that he registers as panic, “I need to attend to an emergency outside the pit and I need Adams with me.”

“DeLuca, we got patients, and they need-”

“Hunt I would never ask this of you unless it was life or death you know that and if you look at my face you will see the sheer panic and anxiety that will grow unless you let me go, now!”

Hunt looks shocked by that but complies knowing the resident well enough to see her fear, “I’ll page Parker and Kwan to cover you for the next hour.”

“Thank you.” Amber turns to her intern who looks panicked as well, “You’re with me so you can watch me clean up your mess. Again.”

Later

“It must be a hell of an aspirin to go through this much trouble.”

Amber rubs her eyes at that statement, “Carl you have no idea, just run the footage at 7:13 AM that’s when we got the paramedics with the patient and when my intern put his bottle at the station. And let’s keep this between the three of us unless something horrific happens and I need to get a lawyer, so I don’t lose income for my family.”

Lucas looks down in shame at that comment knowing it would be his fault if Amber got fired for his mistake. Despite how blunt she is and how much she reprimands him, he knows it’s because it’s her job to make sure he does better next time. But even when his focus becomes clear he still screws up. It makes him more frustrated at himself and everyone else around him.

The security guard goes over the security footage of the pit at Amber’s command. Meanwhile, Amber and Lucas are speaking privately a few feet away from the desk. She speaks to Lucas in a low voice so no one can hear them.

“Why do you keep your Adderall in a bottle of aspirin?” Amber asks sternly, “They already have them in orange pill bottles telling people who they’re for and what they are.”

“I-I didn’t want people to find out. I just got diagnosed I’m trying to find my footing and I’m getting used to my meds.” Lucas replies truthfully, “Everybody already thinks I’m a screwup especially my family I didn’t want to give them an excuse to hammer on me more or reasons that explain why I screwed up so much. But I can see that I didn’t think it through.”

“Gee you think?” Amber asks sarcastically causing Lucas to look up in shame. Remorse falls on the resident who tries to mend her words, “Look I am not shaming you for being neurodivergent. Half of my classmates in med school had ADHD, as long as you are finally working on getting treatment you have my support. But you have to understand that accidentally drugging medical professionals is severely frowned upon and could lead to both of us getting fired. Do you understand now why we keep pills in orange bottles?”

Lucas nods, “Yes I understand now it won’t happen again.”

“See to it that it doesn’t.” Amber sighs looking at the tape, “We just have to hope whoever took your aspirin didn’t take any. There! I see someone reaching over the station! Run it again.”

Amber and Lucas lean forward to get a closer look at the footage. They see a woman in a lab coat rubbing her temple and leaning against the station before grabbing the bottle and taking it with her. The footage stops as her face comes to full view revealing it to be Amelia Shepherd.

Lucas sees this and sighs at this unfortunate turn of events, “And it keeps getting better.”

Later

Amber bursts through the surgical doors searching for the chief of neuro. She darts her eyes around the area hoping that Amelia is prepping and not in an OR high on speed. Amber spots Amelia speed walking to the gowning station looking jittery as she takes a pair of booties before sitting down where her leg is shaking against the floor. The chief resident knows what this means causing her to gingerly approach Shepherd.

“Dr. Shepherd.”

Amelia smiles up at the chief resident before responding at hyper pace, “Hey Amber, let me ask you do you ever have one of those days where you have all this energy in your body and you just want to work out until you get it all out? I hate running so my outlet is surgery which is where I’m headed right now. Aneurism clip it’s nothing to it, just go in and out, it’s like when my college roommate had a guy over oof let me tell you she knew the definition of in and out.”

“Okay I need you to be honest with me right now, did you take aspirin this morning?”

“Yeah it didn’t work I still got the headache and I was excited to crush a stuffed crust pizza for lunch but I wasn’t in the mood.”

Amber nods bitterly, “Yep that tracks. Okay my friend you and I are gonna take a nice walk to the attendings lounge, let’s go.” She links her arm to Amelia’s who follows confused.

“But I have a surgery.”

“No you do not, your nephew will explain in a bit just keep walking and maybe don’t talk so much for all of our sakes.” Amelia keeps quiet allowing Amber to guide her to the attendings lounge where Adams is waiting anxiously.

“I-Is she…?” Lucas asks.

“Oh yeah.” Lucas groans at that confirmation. Amber grabs a water bottle from the fridge and hands it to Amelia who paces back and forth high on speed, “Hydrate now.”

“So bossy.” Amelia sips her water and ends up chugging it empty, “Oh wow I needed that, thanks.”

“Yeah, I don’t think your gonna feel thankful with what we’re about to tell you.” Amber turns to Adams who has his hands behind his head leaning against the fridge with a worried face, “Tell her. Your aunt, your mess. I’ll be in the pit when you’re done, I’ll call Link and tell him the situation.” Amber leaves the room with Amelia looking at Lucas confused.

Lucas sighs before getting off the fridge and approaching his aunt with guilt etched on his face. Amelia is still pacing in the room, “Um aunt Amelia…that aspirin you took it wasn’t aspirin it was my Adderall for my ADHD.”

Amelia stops pacing and faces Lucas with a wide-eyed expression, “…What?”

“That was my aspirin bottle you took only I don’t keep aspirin in it I keep my Adderall in it. I was diagnosed with ADHD two weeks ago and I’ve been taking it ever since, I am so sorry.”

Amelia’s bliss extinguishes at this and is replaced with shock, “Lucas! Oh my god! I am high right now! I’m six years sober I am a mom I cannot slip especially not now!”

“I-I-I didn’t think anybody was gonna take it.” Lucas explains clumsily.

“Then why did you keep speed in an aspirin bottle to begin with?!” Amelia asks frustrated, “I almost went into surgery strung out of my mind! I am in people’s brains for a living do you know how much focus and steadiness that requires?”

“I didn’t mean to get you high. And it’s not like you knew I mean doesn’t AA make exceptions for this?”

Amelia scoffs, “Recovery means being sober at all times it’s not like cheating on a diet or skimping on chores, it could mean ruined lives! God how is it you got me involved in your mess again?”

“My mess?” Lucas asks clearly triggered, “You think this is all my fault? I tell you I’m taking meds for my neuro disorder, and you somehow turn it around and make me the Black Shepherd again? Are you freaking kidding me?!”

Amelia is startled by his yelling and he continues, “Did you ever stop to wonder why I’m like this? Hyperactivity, lack of attention, inability to focus, irritated easily, I read all of those symptoms online and it all made sense to me so why didn’t it make sense to all of you?! Everybody called me lazy and stupid even my own family and your freaking doctors, neurosurgeons how could you have missed this?!”

Amelia frowns at this as her frustration passes and guilt settles in as her nephew continues ranting, “You know I get mom and dad and even Uncle Derek but you…you know what it’s like to be different to be seen as messed up and yet you took one look at me and thought the same things they did why?! It’s not like ADHD is rare and you go into people’s brains for a living, neurological issues are yours and Uncle Derek’s main language! Maybe if any of you had seen it and caught it early, I could have gotten treatment, I could have gotten this under control, I could have been something. I could have gotten better grades, got into the best colleges like you and Derek. I could have been a better doctor but instead you like everyone else in my life thought I was stupid, why?!”

Amelia is stunned silent by this struggling to respond causing Lucas to scoff, “You know what forget it, I’m going back to the pit. At least there are people there that don’t think I’m just another lazy idiot.” With that Lucas storms out slamming the door behind him leaving Amelia to stew in her guilt.

That Night

“Okay Scout is down.” Link proclaims as he enters his ex-girlfriends living room where she is sitting on the couch looking at the coffee table in torment, “I’m gonna stay here until you feel better and make sure you call your sponsor. How are you feeling? Are the symptoms subsiding?”

“Mostly.” Amelia answers in a numb tone, “I still feel thirsty, and I still got the headache that’s grown with the knowledge that I just broke my sobriety after six agonizing years.”

Link looks at Amelia in sympathy and sits down on the couch next to her, “You thought it was aspirin, something over the counter. You didn’t intend to get high; you didn’t intend to endanger yourself, your patients or our son. It was an accident, and you won’t do it again.”

Amelia darkly chuckles, “Yeah that’s what I said over ten years ago when I accidentally drank champagne at a friend’s wedding thinking it was ginger ale. (Private Practice Season 4 Episode 20) I played it off as an accident, a mistake and I ended up prescribing myself oxy and waking up to my fiancé who OD’d beside me. I fell until I hit rock bottom and it almost killed me.”

“So, you know not to do that again.” Link encourages, “Because you know if you do your son might have to grow up without a mom around. A good mom who is trying her best even when life throws hurdles at her. You stayed sober after Ryan, you stayed sober after Christopher, you stayed sober during a pandemic. You earned those 6 years, don’t let one accident mess up your progress. You know what happens if you do so I know you won’t do that again, you just have to know that too.”

Amelia looks at Link flattered knowing no matter what they will still love each other even if they are not together anymore. She also knows he will be her cheerleader when she feels the weight of the world on her shoulders, and she will forever appreciate it.

“Thank you.” Amelia sips her water bottle.

“How are you feeling otherwise? Are you okay?”

Amelia purses her lips, “Well I feel good about keeping my sobriety, I didn’t intend to get high and I don’t intend to ever. Although I feel guilt and depressed over being the worst aunt in the entire world so that’s not great.”

“You’re not the worst aunt in the entire world.”

“My nephew says otherwise.” Amelia retorts bitterly, “And why shouldn’t he? I like everybody else in my family thought he was a mess. He never followed instructions, he had to do everything his own way, his grades were barely passable, all that time I never thought there was something to explain why he was like that. I never thought he could have a learning disorder, and I am not only a terrible aunt but a horrible doctor as well. I remove inoperable tumors; I paved the way to cure Parkinson’s and yet I couldn’t see that my nephew was suffering from ADHD.”

“You weren’t the only one who didn’t see it.” Link reminds her, “His mom didn’t see it but then again I met her so I’m guessing she had expectations for her kid bordering on perfection.”

“You have no idea.” Amelia confirms with an exasperated tone, “But I know what it’s like to be considered the Black Shepherd so I could have understood his struggles better. I could have helped him; I could have been his safe haven, but I wasn’t because his mother drove me crazy, and I avoided her except on Christmas and birthdays and Lucas was a casualty. I wasn’t around as much as I should have been, and he suffered because of it.”

“Did you get a degree in diagnosing neuro divergent disorders at the drop of a hat?” Link asks causing Amelia to glare at him, “I’m not trying to be a jerk I am just saying this disorder can be missed even by doctors like you. Maybe you could have caught this if you were around more or maybe you couldn’t, we’ll never know. What happened in the past happened and you can’t change that, that’s what they teach you in AA right?”

“Yeah.”

“How does that saying go? Accept the things you can’t change…”

Amelia inhales and exhales before finishing, “Gain the courage to change the things you can and the wisdom to know the difference.”

“Yeah that’s right, you can’t change Lucas getting diagnosed sooner you and I both know that.” Amelia nods solemnly, “But you can change what happens from now on now that he’s been diagnosed. You can give him the help you wanted to give him when he was younger. Maybe when he sees how hard you’re working to make up for your lack of attention he’ll realize he has a pretty cool aunt on his side. And if he doesn’t then it’s his loss, what do you say?”

Amelia looks at Link in thought before her brain comes up with ideas to help her nephew and make up for her mistakes.

Three Days Later

Lucas is in the living room of what used to be his Aunt Meredith’s house and is how his, Griffith’s and Yasuda’s. He is reading from his flashcards that Nick Marsh gave him to help him study for the ABSITE’s.

Marsh told him it helped him pass with flying colors and thought Lucas could benefit from it as well. Lucas finds this to be true as the medical notes are easy to read with examples to help. He knows even if he caught this too late at least someone like Nick can guide him through it unlike his own family.

He hears the door opening and closing but is deep in his notes to look up, “Did you get any Chinese? I’m starving.”

“No but I brought sushi.” The familiar voice makes Lucas look up to find it’s his aunt Amelia holding up a takeout bag with a guilty face, “I thought it would be the first step in the Aunt Amelia apology train.”

Lucas is stumped by this gesture and almost wants to welcome it. However, he is still angry towards Amelia and feels his outburst was warranted. Their relationship has been fraught since he joined the program, but he feels he can’t forgive and forget knowing she like so many others let him down when he needed help the most.

He looks back down on his notes and replies icily, “I’m not hungry.”

Amelia is not mad, she knows it’s gonna take more than Japanese takeout to make up for her short sightedness, “I get it, I would give the cold shoulder too after what I said the other day. I wouldn’t be so cold and silent though I would be belligerent and give a verbal lashing that could rival yours three days ago.”

“What do you want?” Lucas asks impatiently, “Are you here to try to get me to tell your sponsor that I accidentally got you high so there’s only one screw up in the family?”

“Lucas I could be 20 years sober, and I would still be the screw up in the family.” Amelia retorts half amused, “And my sponsor believed me and didn’t change my sobriety date, so I am good on that front. Now I am moving on to making things right with my nephew who gave me an Oscar worthy speech the other day so to start I am sorry. I will elaborate further.”

Lucas holds his hand up to stop her, “Look let’s not do this. No amount of sorry is gonna change what happened and it’s not gonna make 12-year-old me get diagnosed and treated. Now I am sorry for accidentally getting you high, I can see now orange pill bottles exist for a reason and I will use them from now on. I’m working out to combat the symptoms and I’m improving on my work so much that even Amber DeLuca is impressed. We can work together without any more incidents and outbursts. Let’s just…keep things professional from now on okay? I think it’s best for all of us.”

Amelia looks hurt by this for a moment before gaining the courage to work harder on her apology, “You didn’t mean to get me high; I know that and I also know that me saying your ADHD ruined my life was a low blow. I should have handled it better, I should have taken into account why it took so long for you to get treatment. And your right things could have been different if you had gotten this diagnosed as a kid. Maybe I could have seen it if I was around more when your were a kid. College, med school, residency are all time consuming, and sacrifices were made. Also, your mom has made it her life’s mission to remind me of my mistakes every time I come and visit so that kept me away as well. I think you know as well as I do that your mother, while I love her is not the most likable person to be around for long periods of time. She can be snarky, brash, judgmental, hold on to grudges and just an outright bitch on occasion.”

“Hey!” Lucas snaps looking up with a glare, “Just because I’m mad at her doesn’t mean I’ll stay quiet while you insult her, that’s my mother you’re talking about.”

“And she’s my sister so I get to talk bad behind her back all I want.” Lucas rolls his eyes, “My point is that I can’t change the past short of getting a time machine we can’t diagnose you earlier and support you when you needed it most. The past is in the past and there’s no way to go back and correct all the mistakes we’ve done.”

“You’re really lifting my spirits here.” Lucas remarks sarcastically still reading his notes.

“I can’t change what happened, but I can change what happens moving forward.” Lucas looks up for the first time without venom instead he has curiosity in his eyes, “You say that you could have accomplished more if we caught this earlier, you say that like it’s too late but it’s not. You’re still young, you’re an intern, you’re at the prime of your career where you have so many opportunities to live up to the family name. It’s what you want to do, and I am gonna help you do that because it’s what I would have wanted when I lived in our pedestal family’s shadow.”

Lucas looks at Amelia with tenderness at this offer as she continues, “Now I am working to develop my Parkinsons research and while it’s not nominated maybe it will win me the Catherine Fox award next year. Assisting me on that could pave the path you want and finally show our family screwed up doesn’t mean stupid. What do you say?”

Lucas sighs as his anger begins to subside with this offer. For so long he wanted to be seen as good enough in his family and now his world-class surgeon aunt is offering to help him with that. It makes him want to take her offer, but his loyalty matters more to him.

“I wish I could but I’m already helping Dr. Marsh with his genetically modified pig livers. He’s already nominated, and I hope he wins, it can give people like him and me a role model to look up to.”

Amelia is taken back by this rejection but is oddly pleased with this loyalty from her nephew, “That is very admirable of you. Nick Marsh is a good man, and he helped you when all of us failed you so he more than earned your assistance. He can help you be the surgeon he and I know you can be.”

Lucas nods at this before speaking in comfort, “Well you’re the first person besides Uncle Derek and Nick who said that about me, if that counts for something.”

Amelia grins at this start to a more stable relationship between them before the food calls to her, “Well the offer still stands but until then are you hungry for sushi now? I know it’s not Chinese but I promise I got goodies in here for us both.”

Lucas is enticed by the smell of food as his hunger grows, “What did you get?”

“Yellowtail jalapeno for me, spicy tuna on crispy rice for you and wonton tacos for both of us.”

Lucas salivates at that before putting his notes away, “Okay but I get most of the tacos.”

Amelie chuckles, “You do not want to challenge me on that trust me.” She sits down next to him on the couch taking the food out so they can eat together as a family for what will hopefully be the start of a new and better beginning between them.

#greys anatomy #grey's anatomy #greysanatomy #greysanatomyedit #greysedit #greys anatomy imagine #lucas adams #amelia shepherd #auntie #nephew #family #adhd #adhd awareness #october 2024

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tarabyte3 · 9 months ago

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Top 5 favourite fanfic tropes?

For my follow up I will allow you a light cheat:

✨️ Top 5 fics (any fandom/pairing)

and (if you would like)

✨️ Top 5 Andy blorbo fics

You know, those ones that live rent free in your mind and you find yourself coming back to even years later (also your choices don't have to specifically follow your trope picks!).

😘

Before I start, I want you to know I only saw the first bit in the preview and was like, "Oh that's fun!" And then got sneak attacked by the rest when I opened it 😂😭 Anon, I respect tf out of you for this, but also I'm going to have an existential crisis lmaoooo

✨Top 5 fanfiction tropes

- Mutual pining/"un"requited love

Especially if it's paired with angst 🤌 want them longing. Yearning, even. Throw in something like forbidden love to kick it up a notch, and, baby, you've got yourself a stew.

- Sex pollen

Particularly if they aren't in a relationship yet to add extra pining and angst. This is a sacrifice (I shouldn't want this). I would do this for you (please let me). I can't stand to watch you suffer (this will break me, but for you it's worth it). That and the smut of it all 😌

- Hanahaki

Being so in love with someone it's literally killing you. It's love made manifest so violently you choke on it. The pain and suffering would end if only you could let the words out, but the thought of rejection—of having to live with that instead—is worse than death. Plus, there's something a little beautiful and poetic about combining pain and suffering with love and flowers. Doom and bloom. Life and death. The Japanese were so real for this.

- Fake dating

I love it when they're both fuckin dying the entire time because they've caught a glimpse of the thing they want more than anything and it isn't real. It's bliss. It's torture. They don't want it to end, but it will destroy them to keep having it just out of reach.

- Getting together

A simple classic, but there's just something about two people falling in love and coming together in spite of everything. And if it's a slow burn? With constant missed opportunities and misunderstandings?! Staple crop of tropes.

✨ Top 5 Fics

I'm going to go with Qui-Gon x Obi-Wan (shocking, I know) because that is the bulk of what I have been reading non-stop so it's at the forefront of my brain. It was difficult to narrow down my 100+ bookmarks because there are SO many incredible works and writers in that fandom that inspire me, and some of them make me want to eat dirt. (I mean that as an exceptional compliment.)

- Shorelines by outpastthemoat

This is what Qui-Gon has done each morning for the past three days, returning to Obi-Wan with handfuls of treasures he has found: Bits of broken glass, polished by the waves, or intricately spiraled shells, a broken piece of chain; perhaps a stone as wide and flat as his hand. But he always returns to the shoreline the following day, and begins his search anew.

This is one of my favorite QuiObi writers (I would highly recommend ANY of her other works at the drop of a hat as well), and I have reread this fic at least once a week for months. Like, I have it open in a tab and think about it constantly. It's an introspective piece—an exploration of a connection and the peeling back of layers to try to understand what waits underneath. There's a beautiful sort of simple yearning, melancholy, and poetry to her writing that makes my brain go brrrrrr. So much is said in all of the things left unsaid. It's two parts of a series and they're both incredible.

- Malalignment by Tohje

The first time is a pure coincidence, all parties could swear it on their deathbeds. The pelta frigate GRS-20 - informally Generosity - is a huge, maze-like, rusting piece of a stronghold with multiple medical wards and cantinas. It is a sheer stroke of luck that 212th and the River Company are accommodated in the adjacent, overstuffed compartments and share the same cantina for their short recuperation periods. There is no thing such as luck, or coincidence, only war (and the Force, according to the Jedi).

Another writer that I adore who has multiple bangers. This one is an AU where QuiGon lives and is part of the Clone War, but in the most Qui-Gon way possible. Combined with Obi-Wan's lingering hurt from the situation with Anakin, the war, and a several year estrangement and by god it's delicious angst. Plus, I love self-sacrificing depictions of General Kenobi. (The smut is also very good)

- That Cold Affliction by Orphan Account

Obi-Wan tries to surprise his Master on a mission with few comforts by making Qui-Gon's favorite tea. Or trying to, at least. As it turns out, tea is a . . . complicated affair. (A little bit like love.)

Short and bittersweet. Forbidden love. Beautiful angst. I'm so sad I don't know the original author because I've seen several of their works pop up that are also orphaned (they have a very specific summary style) and they're all so good and full of similar themes, but I have no way of seeing if I've missed one or not 😭

- Taking Root by sanerontheinside

Obi-Wan thought he was terribly obvious, really. Qui-Gon thought it was Obi-Wan’s secret to share or keep, as he wished.

*banging pots and pans together* QUIOBI HANAHAKI!! This author does a deep dive into the affliction and combines it beautifully with Star Wars world building, plot, and characterization. It's everything I could want from the trope AND the pairing. They're also another one of my favorite writers. And if you're looking for an abundance of excellent smut, you'll absolutely find it in their body of work.

- How to Grow Vegetables and Alienate People by Meggory

Why had Obi-Wan agreed to this? He had exactly no experience growing anything—hell, he'd killed a cactus once, and he'd heard someone say that was impossible—but now he was taking over Bant's community garden share so she didn't feel she had wasted $150 on the plot? He had $150. He should have just given it to her and told her to get blitzed on the plane.

Cute modern AU with a funny af meet cute, excellent characterization, humor, and a simple, lovely plot of two idiots falling in love. Oh, plus gardening. 😌 AND Qui-Gon has a dog. It's the soul comfort food of fics. This author does an incredible job with AUs (pssst you like time loops?) that are great stories so it was very difficult to pick just one!

✨I both adore and dislike this last part. Because on one hand, it gives me the chance to brag about and hype up my friends, who are not only kind, wonderful people, but also very talented writers that deserve it and more. So I truly appreciate you so much for that. On the other hand, there are more than 5 of them that have written Andy Blorbo fics, and some of them have multiple stories and blorbos. And we've all gushed over or discussed many of them at length with each other, so they hold a particular fondness in my heart. Choosing only 5 from that feels like an impossible task.

So I WON'T be narrowing down my top 5 (I'm so sorry, anon, I'm not god's strongest soldier), but I will be taking the opportunity to drop their Masterlists/AO3 accounts 💖😌😇

afogocado | Alfred Pennyworth

amywritesthings | Kino Loy

citrus-moonlight | Ulysses Klaue

eupheme | Alfred Pennyworth, Ulysses Klaue

squidlywiddly87 | Kino Loy, Ulysses Klaue, Liam Black

stargirlfics | Alfred Pennyworth (+ lots of Alfred and Klaue headcanons and blurbs!)

tarrenterror | Alfred Pennyworth, Ulysses Klaue (+ Alfred, David Robey, and Kino headcanons, blurbs, and edits)

viceofdionysus : Alfred Pennyworth, Ulysses Klaue

#asks #tara's top five #anon #fanfiction #fic recommendation #fanfiction tropes #quiobi #if any of these writers see this #thank you for your incredible works i owe you my life #and also i'm a huge fan hi 😭#andy serkis character fanfiction #my friends are so talented #thank you 💖#i appreciate you anon

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