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biggest-stupidhead · 3 years ago

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AN: Here’s part 2 of my nurse reader and Levi request! It recently came to my attention that I was lowkey confused, I realize that you guys were asking for part 2 to my solider Levi and princess reader but I’ve been working on this one instead😂😂 So I’ll try and get to that other one soon.

ALSO 139 SPOILERS

Part 1

Summary: Levi’s dreams are coming true

Word Count: 4.6K

Warnings: mentions of scarring, blood, struggling to walk, kissing, angst

_______

The first few weeks were rough, he struggled to do the most mundane tasks, his fingers shook as he gripped a pen, his breathing was labored when he climbed stairs. He hated every second of it, he knew that this was part of being injured and recovering, but still, he felt weak and exposed. He also knew that it was unlikely that he would ever be the same as he was before his accident, this didn’t bother him too much. However, the thought of you only knew him as a frail wounded soldier rubbed him the wrong way.

He used this as motivation to better his condition, with the knowledge that he would not function the same as before. He quickly found out that holding a pen in his right hand was now much too difficult, so he began practicing with his left instead. He also realized that being in a wheelchair was not for him. He hated being pushed by anyone, mainly because Gabi once lost control and sent him rolling down a busy street. So he began to use a cane or crutch, he also found out that he tired much faster using this method. But he much preferred it to the chair.

After only three months of being discharged, Onyankopon had sniffed out an affordable space to open a modest cafe. The space also had a short set of stairs that led to a one-bedroom apartment above, which originally deterred Onyankopon from investing due to Levi’s state. But Levi had insisted that he would manage, so on a gloomy Thursday afternoon, they signed the papers and bought the place. Gabi and Flaco had been ecstatic to help decorate the space, scouring antique shops and pawn shops for the best (and cheapest) pieces of furniture.

Levi had watched the pair carry in the first table, a round wooden piece fit for two along with mismatched chairs to go along with it. At first, Levi disliked the way the furniture clashed, but he soon grew to like it. As the kids slowly carried in more each week the space began to feel homier. The kitchen in the back was teeming with tins of tea, recipes that Onyankopon swore by were tacked up on bulletin boards. Each weekend Onyankopon would bring the kids back with armloads of ingredients to test out the recipes he had been gathering while Levi had been in the hospital.

Soon they had perfected a menu, with croissants that were crispy on the outside and fluffy on the inside, sticky-sweet cinnamon rolls, and lemon tarts. Levi had never been a fan of sweets, but he knew that most people were, so each weekend they slaved over the stoves and made huge messes of flour and sugar. After two months the cafe was rather put together, tables and chairs of all sorts spread about the room in an inviting pattern. A chalkboard menu that was slowly expanding was sprawled out over the main counter, which was being stocked with pastries.

Onyankopon had brought in a box full of glassware that he had found on the side of the street, Levi had sneered at him as he watched him carefully wash them.

“What are you planning to do with those?” Levi asked as Onyankopon scrubbed the dust off of the glass.

“We can use them as centerpieces. Maybe we could cut some flowers from that field?” He said as he placed the glass vases and cups on the drying rack.

“I suppose,” Levi grumbled, happy that he hadn’t planned on using them as cups.

Finally, the day came when the menu was rounded enough and the furniture polished to open the shop. Levi hated to admit his nerves, but the truth was that his stomach was in knots and his heart was hammering out of his chest as he flipped the wooden sign on the door from closed to open.

Gabi had whooped and hollered, Falco had clapped ecstatically and Onyankopon popped open a bottle of champagne. Levi had given them the slightest of smiles as the group retreated behind the counter to wait for someone to wander in. Levi sat back on a stool that Falco had thrifted for behind the counter, his cane resting against his knee as he watched the door with a steady gaze.

“Can I be in charge of the pastries?” Gabi pleaded, big brown eyes wide as she clasped her hands together. Onyankopon shot a sideways look to Levi who inhaled sharply.

“As long as you don’t spit in the food.” Levi relented and Gabi leaped into the air in her excitement before jogging back into the kitchen to take stock.

“Falco you can carry food out.” Onyankopon offered and Falco nodded a gleam of determination in his golden eyes.

“I’ll run the register and Levi you can brew the tea.” Onyankopon looked pleased with himself after assigning the roles and Levi shrugged in indifference. The minutes ticked by and the door remained shut, the wide windows let the warm morning sun seep into the room, yet it carried no joy. Or at least it didn’t summon any deep feelings from within Levi. Just when Levi was about to give up and go brew himself his own tea before calling it a day, the door opened, the bell tinkling softly.

His mouth fell open when he saw you, in your plain clothes, a pair of dark dress pants and a silk dress shirt. Your purse was slung over your shoulder and in your hands was a bright bouquet of flowers. You pushed some stray strands of hair off of your face as you stepped into the cafe.

“(Y/n)! You made it!” Falco rushed around the counter and took your hand in his to lead you to the counter. You laughed warmly and allowed the young boy to drag you across the room.

“You’re the first person to come in.” Onyankopon mused softly as he stood behind the register, hands placed firmly on the counter. Your eyes widened in surprise before another warm grin passes placidly across your features.

“I am?” You asked, leaning on the counter and throwing a playful glance at Levi who was half hiding behind Onyankopon.

“It’s true.” Gabi groaned dramatically fanning her face, she had been fidgeting anxiously in the back for the past hour eager to serve guests.

“What can I get the good nurse?” Onyankopon steered the conversation back to business as usual.

“Ah, I’d love a cup of camomile and hmm maybe one of those lemon tarts.” You hummed, leaning over to examine the pastries that had been set on display in the glass containers.

“Excellent choice, that’ll be seven pounds.” Onyankopon slid the key into the keyhole in the register and the old thing sprang open, spilling some change. He chuckled as he awkwardly collected the spare change.

“Takes a gentle hand.” He explained as you smiled at him with the money in hand. Levi sighed and reached around Onyankopon to take the money as the larger man squatted down to retrieve the stubborn coins.

“Congratulations Captain, you’ve made this place your own.” You said, slipping the money into his hands, the pads of your fingertips brushing his calloused palm.

“Thank you, nurse (L/n).” He mumbled, trying in vain to fight off the butterflies swarming in his stomach.

“You’re so very welcome.” You watched as the rag-tag bunch began to hustle around the kitchen, Levi limped to the stove and began to boil the water in the kettle, Gabi was pulling on a pair of gloves before she began to inspect the pastries, looking for the best one. Falco gestured for you to follow him to that round table at the front of the store, right by the large window. You covered your mouth to hide an affectionate grin as he pulled the chair out for you. You sat and thanked him as you made yourself comfortable.

“I’ll bring your food to you miss.” He even did a bow which was when you could no longer hide your amusement.

“Falco, too much.” Onyankopon was also laughing behind the counter as the young boy scurried back to grab your pastry, which Gabi had carefully chosen just for you. Levi was now steeping the leaves in one of the mismatched sets of china that they had collected. Once the tea was steeped to perfection he set it on the tray with the pastry and Falco carefully picked it up, using both hands.

He set the steaming plates in front of you and you thanked him once more. You felt a bit awkward as the group watched with expectant eyes as you took the first bite. Your eyes lit up, it was just the perfect mixture of sweet and sour, the breading crumbling on your tongue.

You nodded and held a thumbs up which made Gabi clap her hands and squeal. Falco laughed and shook her shoulder, a giddy gleam in his eyes. Levi bit back another smile, not eager to let you pull them from his lips so easily. A few moments after you had begun to eat, the door tinkled open again, this time it was an older couple. They ordered and sat down near you, murmuring about the decor and such. As the morning wore on, more people began to wander into the shop, families and starry-eyed couples alike. You sat at your table, a small amount of paperwork from the hospital spread across the tabletop. You worked well into the afternoon, not necessarily because you needed to but because you wanted to catch Levi and check in on him.

You got your chance when the crowd ebbed and the orders slowed. The shop was once more empty and you could see the way that Levi limped between the sink and the stove. You gathered your courage and stood from your spot, leaving your purse and papers behind. Onyankopon was helping the kids in the back as they prepped for the pastries for tomorrow.

“I’ll dry if you wash.” You offered and Levi shot you a look over his shoulder.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I’ve been taking up that table all day, let me earn my keep.” You teased, carefully stepping behind the counter and into the kitchen. He did not oppose as you sidled up beside him and began to towel dry the dishes he had already scrubbed clean. You worked like this for a few minutes in silence, the sound of dishes and sloshing of water filling the air between you.

“You seem to have healed well.” You commented as you accepted another clean plate.

“Hm.” He hummed, eyes trained on his task. You noted that he no longer wore bandages on his hand where his fingers had once been.

“How’s your knee?” You asked and he bristled a bit.

“....it’s fine.” He said after a slight pause.

“I can look at it if you’d like.” You offered and he inhaled slowly before releasing his breath in one long exhale.

“I’m fine.”

“Then let me look at your fingers, if you are doing dishes it’s likely to get infected.” You were a tad embarrassed to admit that you simply wanted to feel his skin against yours once more. But luckily Levi felt the same. He paused his work and grabbed a towel to dry his hands off before slowly extending them to you. You accepted them and ran your fingers over the callouses that decorated his palms before pulling his hand closer to your face to get a good look at the nubs where his fingers once were.

Just as you had thought, they were fully healed with puckering pink flesh from where stitches had once been.

“They look well, you should be fine, just...be mindful of how much time you spend washing the dishes.” You hummed, turning his hand over in yours to examine the back of it, old and new scars littered the expanse of his hands and up to his forearm.

“Okay.” His words were breathy and a bit choked. You snuck a glance up at his face and smiled sheepishly at him as you released his hand, which fell slowly back to his side. His cheeks were a soft pink, hints of a blush from the heat of your touch alone.

“I would suggest looking into some gloves.” You advised and he rolled his eyes.

“How am I supposed to wear gloves without my fingers?” He asked, holding his hand up as if to emphasize the loss.

“You seem to have adapted well, I’m sure you can figure something out.” You assured him with a nudge to his side before you fell back into the easy rhythm of drying the dishes.

____

You fell into a routine, stopping by when the cafe first opened to grab a cup of tea before your shift. Then you would go off to work and return later that afternoon to help Levi clean up. One rainy day you came in an hour later than usual, your scrubs soaked as you had forgotten an umbrella. Onyankopon and the kids had left earlier that week to go get the other cadets from Paradis, leaving Levi to tend to the shop alone.

As you entered you flipped the sign to closed and then wrung your sopping wet hair. Levi stood behind the counter, watching you with his one steel eye.

“What took you so long?” He asked before turning to do the dishes. You scoffed and looked back out at the window, the rain was pelting down mercilessly against the glass. But you said nothing, having learned long ago that arguing with him was pointless.

“What have you got for me?” You asked instead wanting to throw yourself into the work he had for you. He put you to work in the kitchen, taking stock and sweeping the floors until you thought that you would collapse. It wasn’t that the work that was taxing, but the work on top of the hours you had already clocked in on your feet at the hospital.

When he was pleased with your cleaning he waved you off with a dismissive flick of his wrist. Your clothes were still wet, as you watched him thumb through his earnings of the day in the register. You now knew a fraction of what he had put those cadets through all those years ago.

“Levi?” You tested, his name falling sweetly from your lips. He turned slowly, pausing his counting to give you his full attention.

“What is it?” He asked, placing the change back into the register.

“How would you like to get some dinner?” You offered with a shy smile. His eyes widened and he whipped around to shut the register.

“Only if you’re buying.”

____

So now you sat across the table from him, your leg bouncing anxiously under the table inside the warm tavern. He seemed much less anxious, hands folded in front of him and his gaze void of any particular emotion.

“So...you come here often?” You tried to start the conversation, for the first time finding it difficult.

“No actually, I despise these places.” He answered literally and you nearly blanched, worried that you may have upset him or offended him in some way by bringing him here.

“What? We don’t have to stay then we can-” You were reaching for your purse but he held up a hand to stop you.

“It’s fine.” He assured you and you relaxed back into your seat.

“Why do you hate these places?” You asked out of curiosity.

“Not a fan of drunk men and shitty tavern food.” He shrugged indifferently. If he had been feeling braver he would have told you that it reminded him of his childhood and his mean drunk uncle.

“Ah, I see.” Your shoulders slumped and you cleared your throat to fill the silence.

“I don’t usually come to bars often either. Can’t trust me around beer.” You joked but Levi arched a thin brow.

“Why’s that?”

“Oh, my dad was a drunk and they say that it runs in the family. So I’ll never touch the stuff.” You shrugged and Levi was caught off guard with your honesty. He only hummed in response. Not long after that, the food arrived and the two of you ate in near silence, the sounds of forks scraping plates and wine sloshing in glasses. You paid for dinner and the two of you slowly made your way back down the street, which was slick with rainwater. You eyed Levi’s arm a bit longingly, wanting to feel his warmth pressed against you. You rubbed your biceps in an attempt to get the message across but he seemed clueless still. So you sighed and decided to take yet another risk, in one swift motion you slid your arm through his and he went rigid. His steps faltered and you looked over at him with a smirk curling at the corner of your lips.

“Is...this alright?” you asked and he nodded tensely before resuming his pace. You were grateful that his apartment was so close to the tavern, as it began to pour once more. But of course, you could not run because you feared that he would injure himself, so the two of you simply picked up your pace. Levi held the door for you and the two of you stumbled into the dark cafe, the tables and chairs looked almost like skeletons as you weaved your way through them to the back set of stairs.

“You can stay if you’d like.” he offered, a glimmer of uncertainty flashing over his features, clearly he was treading just as lightly as you were.

“I’d like that very much.” You grinned and the two of you climbed the stairs to his small apartment. The floorplan was open, the kitchen and living room were all in one space. The furniture was also mismatched here, he set about lighting candles even though you knew that the building had electricity. You wondered if it was a force of habit, all of his years on that island with no electricity, or if it was an attempt to set the mood. You said nothing all the same as the candles set the room aglow in warm light.

“It’s nice,” you commented and Levi hummed in agreement.

“It’s no barracks.” He said as he shook the match, a small trail of smoke curling up from his fingertips.

“Do you miss the military?” You asked as you slipped out of your shoes. He paused, a thoughtful look passing over his face as he pondered your question.

“At times, there are things that I miss. But no, I wouldn’t go back.” he shook his head, damp locks of raven hair falling in curtains over his brow.

“I can imagine.” You agreed as he slipped out of his coat and hung it on the coat rack, you did the same and he gestured for you to follow him to his room.

“I have some dry clothes you can borrow.” He said as he sifted through his drawers, pulling out a simple cotton shirt and a pair of loose-fitting pants. He held them out to you and you accepted them with a smile. You noted that the clothes were larger than the ones that he pulled out and you wondered who they belonged to.

“Whose clothes are these?” you asked out of curiosity and a pained look crossed his face. But you wondered if you had imagined it because of how quickly his features reset into his stoic mien.

“An old friend.” That was all he said before leaving you to change. You pulled the clothes on slowly and carefully knowing that these are likely one of the last things he had that belonged to his friend. Once you were done you stepped out of the room to find Levi already changed and boiling a kettle over his small stove. The shirt hung loosely off of your frame and you pulled the collar up gently as you crossed the room to stand by his side.

“Whatcha making?” You asked softly as he shot you a brief glance over his shoulder.

“Tea.” He said bluntly as he reached up into the cabinets and pulled out two mugs. You hummed and moved to take a seat at the modest table that was pressed against the back of his couch.

“Sounds good.” You said as you slipped into the seat, watching as he moved around his space. You noted the way his cane carried the majority of his weight, the way his fingers trembled as he poured the water to steep the tea leaves. You moved to get up and help him, but decided against it, reminding yourself that he was independent and could do these tasks on his own. Sure enough Levi finished the tea and carried the two cups over to you and placed them gently down on the table.

You thanked him quietly and blew a puff of air over the surface of the green tea, sending ripples through the liquid. He watched you with unreadable features, hands crossed on the table and his cane resting against his thigh.

“Tell me of your home.” You asked, daring a look over the rim of your cup. He inhaled and a far away look crossed his face as he thought of an appropriate response.

“As I knew it or as it is now?” He mumbled as he brought his own cup to his lips.

“Whichever you prefer.”

“Hm.” He hummed as he let the hot liquid sit in his mouth hoping to buy himself more time.

“Either way it was shitty.” He said after a few moments of silence. You set your cup down and gave him your full attention.

“We never had much, and I can’t say that it was a happy life.” He said, sneaking a glance at you to guage your reaction.

“I figured as much.” You commented and he shrugged.

“There isn’t much left of the landscape after the rumbling, but that’s everywhere now.” He grumbled, beginning to lose himself in his own memories.

“There used to be open fields and massive trees inside of the walls but…” He winced, flashes of blood and gnashing titan teeth, campfires, the heavy breathing of horses, explosions of thunder spears followed by the tangy metallic scent of blood.

“Levi?” Your voice was soft and filled with concern, he snapped out of his reverie, his fists clenched around his cup.

“Sorry.” He choked out, his tongue feeling fat and his mouth dry.

“It’s alright, I shouldn’t have asked.” You waved your hands and quickly took a sip of your tea.

“No, it’s not your fault.” He dismissed you, trying to calm the racing of his heart.

“I’m sure that you’re tired, I’ll see myself out.” You began to scramble, reaching for your things and pushing a stray strand of hair from your face. Levi wasn’t sure why, but he felt an urgent need to reach out and grab you. Before he could dismiss the sense, his hand had already shot out and caught your wrist.

You looked back at him with wide eyes, not moving a muscle. He stayed still as well, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your arm. If he was hurting you, you showed no sign.

“Don’t….it’s storming.” He said stupidly, as he stood keeping a hold on your wrist. Once he was on his feet he took a step towards you and his hand slipped down to intertwine his fingers with your own.

“O-Okay.” You squeezed his fingers and he returned the gesture, eyes blank although they darted between your eyes and lips every few seconds. You took a step closer so that the tips of your feet touched his, your breaths mingling together. Finally his eyes settled on your lips and you unconsciously licked them as you wondered what he would taste like. Green tea no doubt, just as bitter and tangy as his personality seemed to be.

You let out a shaky breath as he reached out, the back of his hand brushing that pesky piece of hair off of your cheek. He hesitated but gently grasped your face in his calloused palm, his thumb stroking over your cheekbone. You carefully broke free of his grasp on your hand so you could smooth down the fabric of his shirt above his heart.

He swallowed thickly before lifting his chin, eyes trained on your lips. You tilted your head and met him the rest of the way, your lips slotting together perfectly. His other hand came to rest on the other side of your face, and you whimpered. You opened your mouth wider, your tongue slipping past his lips to taste him. He did taste like green tea after all, bitter and overwhelming. You couldn’t get enough, your hands slipping up the column of his throat to find the shaven underside of his hair.

To your surprise he pulled away with a grunt, grey eyes wide and surprised. You looked back just as shocked but then you smiled. He blinked at you for a moment before pulling away completely and turning his back to you and running a hand through his locks.

“I’m sorry, that was inappropriate of me.” He apologized and you shook your head.

“I actually quite liked it. You aren’t my patient anymore Levi.” He remained silent, his back turned to you in shame.

“You’re not even a Captian anymore, you’re just a man.” You assured him and he turned to look at you now, eyes filled with a certain grief you couldn’t quite place.

“Is that how you see me then?” His voice was flat and you couldn’t tell if he was offended or pleased with the response.

“No, I see you as a good man, who has been hurt one too many times. Someone who needs a….companion.” You settled and he finally faced you once more.

“I shouldn’t have done that to you.” He grunted, steadying himself on the table.

“It’s okay Levi, I-I like you.” You felt like you were tripping over yourself to assure him that he was not crossing any lines.

“....” He remained silent, those sad grey eyes trained on your face as your chest heaved, panic quickly raising.

“I promise you I’m fine. I’ve actually been wanting to kiss you for some time now.” You sheepishly admitted, rubbing the side of your arm.

“I know.” He groaned his hands coming to hide his eyes and you felt even more distressed, you should’ve known better.

“Look, Levi I want to be with you, and if you want the same then we can be. You don’t have to-”

“Damn it (Y/n) I want to, but I don’t” He let out another frustrated grunt before his fist came down hard on the table, the cups rattling loudly at the disturbance.

“I don’t want you to be chained to someone like me.” He admitted, eyes averted.

“You don’t have to feel that way, I’m choosing you.”

“Promise?” His eyes finally met yours and you nodded curtly, a look of determination and confidence plastered to your face.

“Promise.” You assured him, sitting back down at the table to show that you weren’t going anywhere.

“And if you bother me too much then I’ll leave.” You teased, but he seemed to take it literally, sinking back into his own seat and nodding in understanding.

“That’s good.” He sighed, shoulders sagging in relief.

“I really should go home, think about this and we’ll talk tomorrow.” You stood, leaning over the table to peck a kiss to his lips. He nodded and watched with tired eyes as you left his apartment.

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perfectpaperbluebirds · 3 years ago

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Under the Weather 1/2

Reviving some OCs that I can’t get enough of. Shane is a sports medicine physician, Molly is an OB/GYN nurse. They work at the same hospital, where they met and fell in love. I first introduced them during Sicktember for the prompt “Doctor’s Visit/Checkup”. I thought that would be the only thing I did with them, but the muse (and @mongooseblues) decided otherwise.

As you can see above, this story was born from two prompts (one of which cam from this prompt list from @oh-no-my-hand-slipped ) and became much longer than anticipated, so I split it into two parts.

No one really asked for this, but it was a joy to write, and I hope the three of you that read it enjoy it as much as I do :) Part two will be out later this week.

“I don't see why your parents have to throw an extra engagement party for us. Why can't they just come to the bridal shower like everyone else?" Molly said irritably, fiddling with the hem of her dress in the passenger seat of Shane's car.

"Oh they'll do that too, don't worry. They're just… old fashioned," Shane said with a sniffle, scrubbing his wrist against his nose as he drove. "They want a chance to show us off to their friends down here that won't come to the shower. It's just one afternoon, Mol. And I'll be with you the whole time. You'll do great, don't worry," he said, reaching over to squeeze her knee reassuringly.

"Easy for you to say," she muttered. "You grew up doing stuff like this."

"Just smile and look pretty and think of all the money they're giving us for the wedding. They'll love you, I promise." Shane turned away from her to cough into his shoulder.

"Are you ok?" Molly asked, eager to distract herself. "You're very… sniffly."

"It's the weather in this stupid state. Allergies. I always get sniffly when I'm here."

"Right. All the more reason to not come here anymore," Molly said, bouncing her leg anxiously as she stared out the window.

Shane chuckled but did not reply, keeping his warm hand on her knee.

Fifteen minutes later, the couple arrived at the beachfront resort where Shane's parents were setting up the finishing touches for the engagement party they were throwing in honor of their youngest son and his new fiancee. Upon their arrival, Shane's mother Linda ran to greet them and kissed them both on the cheek enthusiastically, as if she hadn't just seen them at breakfast. Shane's father Dave clapped them both on the shoulder with his trademark guffaw and bellowed greeting, cigar in hand and portly middle wobbling.

"Everything is just about ready. It's going to be perfect! Every detail is taken care of. Everyone is just going to love you!" Linda babbled cheerfully, unknowingly parroting her son's words.

Molly forced a smile and nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Her soon-to-be mother-in-law was lovely and charming and a wonderful hostess, but she and Molly had absolutely nothing in common. Linda spent her free time volunteering at old theaters and animal shelters and throwing elegant, unnecessary parties, while trailer park-raised Molly would have preferred to spend her beach vacation exploring botanical gardens and aquariums or eating ramen and watching Netflix in her worn band tee shirts. Their only uniting factor was their love of Shane, which so far had been sufficient. Yet now here she was, dressed in an uncomfortable, probably somehow wrong dress, preparing to smile and chitchat with rich strangers for hours, which sounded like her own personal hell, and hoping that the aforementioned uniting factor would be enough to get her through the rest of this trip.

Some higher power was apparently looking out for her though, because twenty minutes before the guests were due to arrive, angry, gray storm clouds rolled in at a frightening speed, obscuring the bright, blue sky. Rain began to fall shortly thereafter, quickly becoming a downpour. Shane and Molly and the elder Mitchells rushed around with the catering staff trying to save the decorations and desserts, and were all drenched in minutes. However, the distance between their rented beach patio and the resort was so great that everything was still ruined by the time it was brought inside. Not only that, but Linda had not arranged for a backup location inside the resort, since the forecast had shown the chance of rain to be less than ten percent. The dripping wet family stood inside and watched the rain through the windows, but when the weather showed no signs of clearing fifteen minutes later, calls began to come in from the expected guests saying they wouldn't be coming. After over half of the guests had withdrawn, a very deflated Linda called the other half to inform them the party would be postponed to another day due to weather. Molly silently rejoiced and couldn't keep herself from smiling whenever Linda's back was turned.

However, when she tried to share her good cheer with Shane, he was less than receptive, and stood scowling with his arms crossed, visibly shivering. He moved away from her touch when she tried to rub his back.

"I'm wet and freezing," he muttered in reply to her questioning look. "Just wanna get out of here." His harsh sniffle after he spoke accentuated his point, so she let him be.

It seemed his parents felt the same way. As soon as the party was cancelled, they packed up everything they were able to salvage and headed home, with tempers as wet and ruffled as their clothes. Meanwhile, Molly had to refrain from skipping to the car and splashing in every puddle. She had always loved the rain, and today she loved it more than ever. Upon returning to the house, Linda spoke hopefully about rescheduling the party for the upcoming weekend and simply holding it in the backyard, since Shane and Molly were due to leave in three days. It was clear she was grasping at straws though, and her forced cheer only worsened the mood of her son and husband, so she eventually gave up and succumbed to moping around with the other two.

It seemed to Molly that the Mitchells were acting as if they'd never gotten rained on before. Even after they had all showered and changed, they sat huddled in the living room like a trio of disgruntled birds, with their robes and blankets scattered around them. Jory, their toothless, neurotic cockapoo, trotted from person to person, looking confused and yipping anxiously. Molly tried to get Shane to put on his raincoat and go outside exploring with her later that afternoon, but he snappishly declined, huddling deeper into his blankets. So, the nurse went out on her own and had a marvelous time splashing and wandering to her heart's content. She did her best to mollify her crabby fiance when she returned, waiting on him hand and foot and letting him pick their nightly Netflix binge, even though it was her turn to choose, but his bad mood lingered, along with his chills, and he hardly moved from his bed the rest of the evening.

~~~

Molly’s good mood persisted into the next morning. She was up with the sun, and enjoyed a lazy cup of coffee in the silent house. She even tried (unsuccessfully) to befriend Jory. Once her coffee was gone, she tiptoed to Shane’s room to sneak in some morning cuddles, in spite of his parents’ insistence that they have separate rooms until they were married.

Shane was still fast asleep and snoring, huddled under a mound of blankets and pillows. Molly slipped under the covers beside him, pressing against his warm, bare back and wrapping her arms around him. He shifted against her, nuzzling into her embrace in his sleep with a little sigh. She lay with him like that for another hour or so, letting herself doze off again as he slept on. However, her stomach growling with hunger interrupted the peaceful rest a while later. She began to gently shake him awake.

“Shane… Shane, get up… you said you’d take me out to breakfast today… baaabe, I’m starving… c’mon get up….”

She kept shaking him until he rolled onto his back and blearily opened his eyes.

“Time izzit?” he mumbled, scrubbing at his face.

“Almost ten.”

He groaned, then coughed, rolling back over. “Too early.”

"Shaaaaane, c’mon. I’ve been up for like two hours already. I’m bored.”

“That sounds like a “you” problem,” he muttered into his pillow. He took another breath and she thought he had more to say, but instead he curled an arm over his face to sneeze messily into his elbow:

“Heh’GIHZZKT-choo! Hehxt’KIHH-CHU! ehhIHTSHHoo!”

“Bless you. You okay?”

“No,” he said with another cough. “Think I’m sick.”

“Really?” she sat up, tucking her legs underneath her and pressed her hand to his face. “You don’t feel too warm. What’s wrong?”

“Headache. Body aches. Throat hurts. Congested.”

“Aww, poor baby. Didn’t you say your nose stuff from yesterday was allergies?”

“I lied,” he mumbled, pulling the blankets closer around himself. “Didn’t want you to worry.”

“Aww, doc,” she sighed. “I’m worried now though. You never get sick.”

“I’ll be okay," he said with yet another cough. "But I don’t think I’ll be up to taking you to breakfast today. ‘M sorry.”

She sighed. “It’s okay I guess. You owe me later, though,” she said, stroking his hair away from his forehead.

“I’m on it,” he mumbled around a yawn. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“Can I at least take your car to go get some food?”

“Mhm.” The grunt was already bordering on a snore.

“Thanks, babe.” She kissed him on the ear, but she wondered if he noticed, for he was already asleep again.

Molly crept out of his room, but the elder Mitchells still hadn't appeared, which was highly unusual. Having a premonition about how the day was going to go, she took a bit of extra time to dress up before leaving. She then found an adorable diner, took a long, leisurely breakfast, and then did a little souvenir shopping while she was out. She didn't return to the house until after noon, and as she drove back, she wondered what she would find when she arrived.

~~~

It was clear the engagement party was not going to happen that weekend, because it wasn't just Shane that was sick--the entire Mitchell family had come down with a cold, and they made sure Molly was aware of such the moment she walked in the door. Linda had evidently been listening for her, because she emerged in all her bathrobed misery, with Jory yipping and circling around her feet, and began lamenting their sorry state as soon as Molly arrived. Linda, per her own story, couldn't stop sniffling and sneezing, while Dave had a nasty cough. The second part didn't need telling though, because Dave's hacking cough was regularly heard echoing through the whole house like his voice usually was. Linda reported that Shane had a bit of everything, as Molly had seen, but his main complaint was a splitting headache and body aches.

Shane's mother made a pot of tea while continuing to vent and Molly awkwardly shifted from one foot to the other as she listened, trying to be polite but eager to escape. While she felt bad that Dave and Linda were under the weather, there wasn't much she could do about it. Her fiance was another matter however, and she was anxious to go see him. Eventually Linda grew weary of talking though and shuffled back to bed with a tissue pressed to her nose and a fresh cup of tea. Molly immediately headed in the other direction to Shane's room.

He was in the same position he had been when she left, still evidently asleep, but his hair and bed were much more tousled, as if he'd been tossing and turning. She crawled into bed behind him as she had that morning, pulling him close against her. He rolled over to face her with a sleepy smile.

"You're back," he croaked. "You were gone a long time. I missed you."

"Sorry. Figured you would just be sleeping," she said, kissing his hair.

"I was trying to," he mumbled with a shiver. "My parents have been making that difficult." He coughed into his shoulder roughly. "But you probably shouldn't be in here anyway, and you definitely shouldn't be kissing me. I don't want to get you sick and ruin your week off too."

Molly kissed him again before she spoke. "I think my fate is sealed either way. I've been with you and your family all week. I've already been exposed, so if I get it, then so be it. I'm not staying away from you when you're not feeling good. It's against the rules of being engaged."

Shane grinned. "You're too good to me."

"Likewise." She kissed him once more for good measure. "Anything I can do for you?"

"Just stay," he mumbled, burying his face against her. "All I want to do is lay in bed with you and watch TV. Don't have energy for anything else."

"That can certainly be arranged," she said happily, pulling his covers over herself and grabbing the remote.

However, it turned out to be easier said than done. It seemed that for whatever reason, Linda was determined to keep them from being alone together for long periods of time. Molly had hardly been in Shane's room for ten minutes when there was an urgent tapping on the door, and Linda burst in without waiting for a response, with Jory skittering in after her with his usual lack of grace.

"Shane, can you come help me change the sheets on our bed? Your father is no help. Rebecca usually does them on Mondays, but I'd just really like them done today."

Shane groaned. "Ma, you're sick. I'm sick. I ache all over. Is this really necessary? It has to be done today?"

"Well I want them done *because* I'm sick. I just think we'll feel better with clean sheets. It'll only take a minute, dear."

With another groan Shane swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up, pulling on his robe with a pitiful cough. He shot Molly an apologetic look as he followed his mother out to go fulfill his role as a dutiful son.

The sheets took less than ten minutes. Shane was back in record time, but the couple had hardly gotten settled once more, with much sniffling and coughing on Shane's part, when the urgent knock on the door was heard once more, and once more Linda burst in without being invited.

"Molly dear, I wonder if I could trouble you to run to the store for us? You're the only one well enough to go, and we need a few things, more tissues and such."

And so it went. Even after Molly went to the store and came back, Linda kept finding reasons for one or both of them to leave the comfort of Shane's room and run around for her. Even when they left the door wide open, she would simply come in and sit on the bed and "watch" with them, talking over whatever was playing.

The couple finally admitted defeat and relocated to the living room, cuddling just as they had been in Shane's room with Shane's head pillowed on Molly's lap, but now in plain sight of everyone. This seemed to satisfy Linda, and she pestered them less. The whole day through though, she wouldn't stop lamenting the events from the day before, and Shane got fed up with it quickly.

"The whole week is just ruined. I haven't been caught in the rain since I was a little girl, and of course I get sick from it. Such rotten luck."

"You didn't get sick from it, Ma. Getting wet doesn't make you sick. Colds come from germs, not the rain."

And later: "Oh we had such nice plans for this weekend too. If only that miserable rain hadn't made us sick."

"The rain didn't make us sick, Ma. You can't get sick from being out in the rain."

And even later: "I'm never leaving home without an umbrella again. The rain always makes me sick."

This time Molly could almost feel the irritation rolling off of the physician in waves. "The rain doesn't always make you sick because rain doesn't make people sick. Jesus, mom. I've told you that plenty of times now."

Molly squeezed his arm. "Just let it go, babe," she murmured, while Linda continued on as if she hadn't heard. "Not worth it."

Shane heaved a deep sigh and rolled over, covering his head with the blanket.

And so the day came and went. Molly looked after her chilled, sneezy, cranky fiance as best she could, and he did his best to keep his bad mood in check, but by the end of the day he was feeling worse, not better. He hadn't had a fever all day, but he couldn't get warm, and his headache went from throbbing to splitting, mostly due to increasing sinus pressure. All he wanted to do was sleep, but his mother's talking and his father's coughing kept them all on edge and far from sleep the whole day. Shane clearly yearned to be home in his own bed, and the fact that he wasn't only worsened his mood further. By that evening, he and Molly had both reached the end of their ropes, and after bickering over a handful of meaningless things, Shane announced he was going to bed, even though it wasn't yet nine o'clock. He brushed his lips across Molly's cheek and shuffled to his room alone, his blanket trailing behind him. They all heard him firmly shut and lock his door behind him.

Linda sighed, Molly thought in relief, and announced she too was going to her room for the evening, her self-imposed chaperone duties evidently now complete for another day. As soon as the older woman was gone, Molly's phone dinged with a text from Shane.

"I'll unlock my door later when mom and dad are sleeping," the text read. "Come see me then? Just wanna hang out alone with you."

Molly smiled as she replied: "Will do. Can't wait."

With that, she made her way to her own room, making sure she closed and locked her own door loudly. There she killed time with her phone and books for several hours, waiting until well after midnight to be safe before tiptoeing back to Shane's room.

She found his door unlocked, and crept in. She had expected and even hoped to find him asleep (and had no plans to wake him if he was), but instead found him lying in the dark, wide awake and staring at the ceiling. He jumped when she poked her head in, but attempted a smile upon seeing who it was.

"Hey. Was hoping you'd show up sooner or later." He scooted over on the bed to make more room for her, the movement making him cough as usual.

"Shane! Don't tell me you stayed awake just for me," she whispered accusingly, closing the door behind herself and climbing into the bed to join him. "You should be sleeping!"

"Trust me, I wish I was," he said, sniffling. "It's all I've been wanting all day, but now that it's quiet, I can't fall asleep. My head just keeps throbbing."

"Sleepless in Seabrook, huh?" she murmured, nuzzling against him. "Poor doc. Want me to run out and find some Nyquil for you?"

"We'll see," he groaned. "I'll let you know in a bit. Maybe you being here will help." He wrapped an arm around her, playing with the ends of her hair as he closed his eyes again. She too closed her eyes and tried to rest, though she was far from tired after a day of doing nothing.

Shane continued to be restless. He couldn't seem to get comfortable, shifting every few moments whenever he had to cough or sniffle. After a while, he let out a frustrated sigh.

"I have to pee. Sorry. I'll be back in a sec."

He made his shaky way to the door, but had to stop halfway there and grab the bed's footboard for support as a trio of sneezes bent him over at the waist:

"EHHHHTT'shoo! HEEHHXT'choo! hehh'NXXGT'choo! Ow…." He made a disgusted sound on the final exhale, drawing a crumpled tissue out of the pocket of his robe and swiping at his nose irritably.

"Bless you, babe."

"Thangks," he muttered, continuing at last out the door and disappearing down the hall. Molly took the opportunity to straighten the blankets and fluff the pillows so they'd both be more comfortable. She loved her doc dearly, but she was tired of his bad mood and just wanted him to sleep and feel better.

He shuffled back in a few minutes later, but didn't bother to shut the bedroom door behind him all the way for whatever reason. That was all it took. Shane had just crawled back into bed when Jory's nose appeared in the crack in the door. The overweight dog pushed his way through, trotted to the bed and immediately hopped up onto it, ignoring Molly and lying down on the other side of Shane with a happy sigh. The physician made a noise of annoyance, but didn't seem inclined to kick the dog out. That is, until moments later when Jory hopped up again, walked across Shane's chest and began to lick the doctor's face enthusiastically. Molly could smell the dog's rancid breath from where she was.

Shane yelped in surprise and disgust, shoving the dog away and (not too roughly) pushing him off the bed. The sick man stood up once more and nudged the dog toward the door with his legs.

"Go… Jory, go… get out…," he mumbled congestedly.

The dog finally went, his dignity clearly injured. Shane once more stumbled back to bed.

"Damn dog," he coughed, rubbing the saliva off his face.

"Aww, he loves you though. Just like everyone else in this house."

"Yeah, I guess," Shane sighed, cuddling against his fiancee once more. "Wish some of them would find other ways to show it."

Molly had no reply to that, so she simply held him and kissed him again and again.

After another hour had passed and Shane still couldn't fall asleep, while his congestion and chills continued to worsen, Molly insisted on taking Shane's car and going to find him some Nyquil. There was a 24-hour Walmart only a few miles away, so that's where she went, and thankfully they had what she needed. She had never gone to a store after midnight before, and it was a very surreal experience, especially since she was now hazy with tiredness herself. It all went without incident though, and she was back in Shane's bed in record time. A little medical intervention was all it took; not thirty minutes after taking a big dose of Nyquil, Shane was out like a light, falling asleep in Molly's arms at last.

When it seemed he was truly asleep, Molly carefully repositioned him to lie on his own pillows, then cautiously slid off the bed. He didn't stir once. She sincerely hoped that boded well for him for the next eight hours. Her work finally complete, and knowing she shouldn't be caught sleeping in his room, Molly staggered back to her own room, yawning, and fell into bed. In minutes, she too was asleep.

(part 1 of 2)

#sickfic #everyone is hotter with a fever #MY OCs #nothing is hotter than sick doctors

35 notes · View notes

uncommoncold · 4 years ago

Text

Treasure

Summary: After a lengthy chase, Park Seonghwa finds himself face to face with the dread pirate Hongjoong. Will he find a blood thirsty pirate or dashing rogue? Will he lose the one thing that he holds most dear, his heart?

Word Count: 11.2k

Content Warning: Top Park Seonghwa, Bottom Kim Hongjoong, Pirate-teez, Boys Kissing, Oral Sex, Two Sex

The flag whipped violently with the gale winds and blistering rain. “Captain, if we keep going like we are, we’re going to break apart.”

“I know but unless you’re looking for a long drop and a short stop, we have to keep going.” He peered through his cabin window and into the storm, trying to make out the shape of their pursuers. The fact that he couldn’t see them gave him hope.

At first they had kept their distance, following just far enough away to make him think perhaps he was mistaken. But they had followed for two days, getting closer the closer they got to the islands. He knew what that meant, they were being hunted.

Not that he wasn’t sure that someone thought he deserved it. He had done more than enough to put himself a few people’s sights.

“They can’t possibly see us if we can’t see them.” Hongjoong mused.

“Let’s head for the leeward side of this island.” He pointed to the map. “There’s a cove there we can shelter in. Maybe we’ll get lucky and they already took refuge from the storm, or better yet, maybe they sank.”

His first mate, Yunho smirked and nodded.

A short while later, they were pulling into a sheltered cove. It was a risk, if their pursuers were still chasing them, then they were stuck with nowhere and no way to run. However, it was sheltered enough that if you didn’t know it was there, you could sail right by and never see a ship. The island wasn’t populated by more than flora and fauna but it would do to sit out the storm.

Normally, it would have been a good time to pull out the casks and enjoy some downtime but he didn’t dare when they didn’t know who was on their tails. It seemed unlikely that whoever it was was hunting him to give him birthday wishes. He couldn’t count out revenge or the authorities.

***

“We’ve lost them sir.” Seonghwa informed the captain.

“It’s this blasted storm, keep looking. I’m not letting that son of a bitch slip away again.”

“Again sir?”

“I’ve been looking for him for nearly three years since he took my last ship. Brazen, cocky, and slippery as an eel. I’ve been so careful… I’ll have the reward and see him dance on the end of a rope yet.”

Seonghwa wasn’t entirely sure he liked the malicious light that lit up his captain’s eyes as he talked about seeing the pirate they were chasing hang. It wasn’t that he was ignorant of crime and punishment, he just preferred not to watch it and he took no joy in death. The captain was no longer a young man and he was determined to have the pirate Hongjoong in his grasp before he died.

“Since we’ve lost him, I suggest we shelter from the storm at one of the nearby islands, sir.”

For a long moment, the captain was quiet before heaving a weary sigh and nodding, “Alright, take us in. We’ll pick up the search after the storm dies down.”

“Yes, sir.” Seonghwa went out on deck and informed the helmsman of the captain’s decision and they fought their way into the bay of a nearby island. It was just in time as well as the storm was only getting worse. It was just a little spit of land, mountainous and good for nothing unless you liked coconuts and sea birds.

***

“Captain!” Yunho tore into the room.

Hongjoong had been nursing a headache but he bolted upright from his bed, “What is it.”

“A ship pulled into the bay sir. They’re making no moves toward us but if they get any closer, they’ll surely spot us. What do you want to do?”

Hongjoong headed up on deck and looked through his telescope at the ship’s colors. Shit. He knew exactly who that was, he had been chasing him for nigh on three years now, ever since he took his ship. In fact, it was his ship that he was using now. He tapped his fingers thoughtfully on the railing. He could send the men with the cargo inland but there were no promises they wouldn’t go looking for them and they would be vastly outnumbered… “I have an idea.”

Yunho turned slowly, Hongjoong was grinning broadly at him. “I don’t like that smile.”

“It’s a really stupid idea that just might get me killed but will ensure everyone else’s safety.”

“I really don’t like this idea.” Yunho crossed his arms and glared at his captain sternly.

“You haven’t heard it yet.”

“I’ve heard enough to know I don’t like it, not if it might get you killed. The last time we went with a plan that might get you killed, I ended up running naked through town.”

“You won’t end up naked this time. I promise.”

“I still don’t like it.”

“No, you won’t like it.” Yunho tended to think of himself as Hongjoong’s keeper, he chased after him when he needed to be chased. He protected him from his own most dire instincts. He was the best first mate and friend Hongjoong could ask for. This time he wasn’t joking, it really might get him killed. It was a roll of the dice, then again, life was a roll of the dice.

Yunho groaned, “Alright tell me.”

Yunho listened to Hongjoong’s plan and it was absolutely the daftest thing he had ever heard in all of his life but if he could pull it off, it would save the lives of everyone on board but it still would leave his own life in a precarious place. Honestly, he couldn’t think of a better plan. They were a small ship and they had two guns out of commission. He also knew that Hongjoong put the lives of his crew above his own, it was part of why he was so well loved. He was a great captain… and friend. “Why do I get the feeling if I say no, you’ll do it anyway.”

“Because I will.”

“Shit.” Yunho ran his hands through his hair and braced his hands against his hips. “Fine, I can’t stop you.”

They set to work, loading one of the dinghy’s with provisions and a small amount of the treasure they had accumulated. It took a little cajoling but he had Yunho punch him a few times.

Hongjoong then cut his head with his trusty knife and let the blood run down over the side of his face and ear. “How do I look?”

“Like a man who has had a rough time.”

“That’s how I want to look. Let’s go.”

“Be careful.” Yunho grabbed Hongjoong in a tight hug. “If you get yourself killed I’ll never forgive you.”

“How do you think I’d feel about it? I’m not ready to die yet.” Hongjoong grinned brightly and stepped into the dinghy. He waved as it hit the water. Happily, the wind was on his side, he sailed out to where he should be able to be seen by the larger ship and lowered his sail. He then lay down in the boat and waited. It didn’t take long before he saw two boats break away from the larger boat and come his way. “Ahoy!”

Hongjoong put on a show of struggling to lift his head before raising a hand, “Ahoy!”

They towed him back toward the bigger ship, when he was brought on board, he spun a tale of intrigue. There had been a mutiny on his ship and he had just barely managed to escape. The men who had picked him up were enraptured by the tale he told. Seonghwa stood by and listened, he certainly looked the part. He had seen better days. There was something about his story that niggled at the back of his head but their guest was still a man alone with few provisions and just looking for a lift to the closest populated island.

They were a full crew of able bodied men with arms. Seonghwa was just about to show him to a cabin when the captain came out. Immediately he began pointing and sputtering. Hongjoong paled when he saw the captain. The old man immediately lunged at Hongjoong and caught him right on the chin with a forceful left that knocked him to his knees. In all truth, it had taken Hongjoong by surprise. He wouldn’t have thought that someone of his age could have come up with such speed.

“What’s he doing here?” The captain said as he stepped back nursing his sore knuckles.

Seonghwa told him the story that had been relayed to them. The captain’s expression slowly shifted from incredulous to gleeful. “All of these years and I’ve finally got you where I want you. Toss him in the brig.”

“Yes, sir.” Seonghwa grabbed one of Hongjoong’s arms and another sailor grabbed the other.

Hongjoong shot a look of pure venom at the captain.

“What are you going to do? Swim? We’ve got your boat and this island is uninhabited. Maybe the magistrate will be lenient on you but considering you're a wanted man, I doubt it. Oh and one more thing…” The captain hauled off and punched him again and again. “That’s for my ship.”

By the time he was thrown into the brig, his head was swimming and his ears were ringing. Yunho hadn’t pulled his punches, nor had the captain. He was alive… for now. Considering that they didn’t go into battle, nor were the rest of his crew joining him, his ruse had worked. He breathed a sigh of relief and waited.

Eventually, the storm passed. He could hear sounds overhead of the crew making ready to get underway. It was another hour that he strained his ears for every little sound before deciding that they really were underway and heading back out to sea. Only then did he risk laying down and closing his eyes.

Seonghwa lay in his bunk and stared at the ceiling. It seemed almost miraculous that the very man they were looking for just happened to have a mutiny and just happened to end up in their hands. He couldn’t think of a reason why he would just hand himself over to someone who wanted him dead. Surely stranger things had happened in the history of the world. Still, he couldn’t help feeling a bit sorry for him, pirate or no. He had had a string of really rotten luck.

Since the captain hadn’t given him any orders to not feed the prisoner, he took it upon himself to bring him down some food. The fact that the captain just so happened to be busy when he did was purely coincidental… mostly.

The prisoner looked a good deal worse for wear, bruises had formed on his cheek, jaw, and left eye into his hairline. The swelling had gone down though. “I brought you some breakfast.”

Hongjoong lifted his head and offered a half smile as their eyes met.

Seonghwa’s heart skipped a beat. He immediately looked away, unable to account for the strange feeling.

“I’m going to guess this wasn’t the captain’s order?” He said as he reached out to take the bowl of porridge. There were bits of some sort of meat in it, salted fish if he were to take a guess.

“How did you know?” Seonghwa looked back surprised.

“Someone who has been chasing me as long as he’s been chasing me, is not likely to be the forgiving sort. I doubt he would be worried at all about my comfort and would probably like to see me suffer as much as possible.” He took a bite, their ship’s cook wasn’t as good as Wooyoung was but it was passable. He was lucky he was getting anything at all.

“I guess you weren’t expecting to end up here.” Seonghwa watched Hongjoong take another bite.

“No, I have to admit, it was a big surprise to me. I’m not sure what I thought would happen when I left my ship.”

Hongjoong paused for a moment before asking, “Are you supposed to be talking to the prisoner?” Despite what might be a harsh question, there was an almost mischievous light in his dark eyes.

“No, probably not.”

“A man who likes to break the rules, I like men like that.”

“Are you trying to charm me?” Seonghwa asked. It was unusual to find someone as charming as he found their prisoner. He found himself wanting to get to know him. His smile was a physical weapon he could wield as surely as a sword or a pistol.

“Only if it’s working. If not, then of course not.” Hongjoong flashed an easy smile.

That forced a surprised laugh from Seonghwa. There was that smile again, the weight of it hit him and he found himself gazing at Hongjoong’s lips. For some reason Seonghwa was suddenly wondering about the details of his mutiny. He seemed like an easy man to like, which meant that wasn’t why his crew had mutinied. Still, he was going to have to face the fact that they were probably taking him to his death. Then again, maybe he was entirely different here than he was with his men, perhaps he was a tyrant but something whispered to him, told him that wasn’t the case.

He didn’t like it.

If the prisoner was a pirate, then he had killed dozens of people. He found himself asking, “How many men have you killed?”

Hongjoong looked surprised at the sudden question, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you?”

“That means it’s either very high or very low.”

“Very low.” There was no hint of teasing when he said it. There were times when killing someone was unavoidable but every single death had repercussions, if not for himself then for someone, somewhere and he took each death as something that should be respected and honored, no matter who his foe was.

“Really?” Seonghwa asked, genuinely curious.

“There are usually many, many ways to get what you want without resorting to murder.”

“Then why are you wanted?”

“Ah, now just because I’m not a wanton murderer doesn’t mean that I haven’t broken any laws. I have broken more than a few laws and I don’t feel bad about that in the least.” The smile was back and this time he turned its full power on Seonghwa who felt more than a little shaken by it. Bruises and all, the pirate Hongjoong was a beautiful man and a fascinating one. He opened his mouth to ask another question when someone bellowed his name from above.

“I’m sorry, I have to go. I’ll bring you something later.” He turned and started to walk away.

“How far are we from shore?”

“We’re about three days out from the nearest port that I know you are wanted at.” He might be a pirate but he wasn’t a big enough name to be wanted everywhere. However, one group of people that wanted to hang you was more than enough.

“Three days… I didn’t catch your name.” Hongjoong said.

“Park Seonghwa, you?”

“Kim Hongjoong. For what it’s worth, I appreciate the food, even if it is going to waste in a dead man’s belly.”

“If it gives you comfort, then there’s no waste.” Seonghwa walked away then, heading up to find out who was calling him.

Hongjoong played with his food while he thought about his guest. He wondered if he might be inclined to help him escape. He drummed his fingers against his knee as he contemplated it. Yet his thoughts kept drifting back to the man himself, he was almost heartstopping in his physical beauty. There was a gentle aura around him that made him seem like someone he would want to protect. He sighed and pushed the thought of his sparkling eyes and sweet smile out of his head.

Despite what he said, he had no intention of dying. There were a thousand ways to get what you wanted, he had managed to save his crew now hopefully, he could find a way to save himself.

Over the next few days, Seonghwa continued to bring Hongjoong his meals and they spoke at length. Seonghwa told him all about his home, his family. His father used to have his own ship but he had decided that with the pirates, it was safer on shore so he had retired from the sea to run his own shop, which proved to be an excellent move on his part. Their family business did far better than expected and he had managed to secure an excellent retirement for himself and his family.

Hongjoong had planned on playing it close to the vest but he found himself opening up to Seonghwa, he told him of his ill-spent youth, why he had turned to piracy. He told him a good deal more about himself than he ever intended, he found himself waiting anxiously for just a glimpse of Seonghwa’s face through his day. It wasn’t just because he was bored either, it was because he genuinely enjoyed his company. He loved listening to his deep smooth voice, he loved listening to his stories. He was going to be sorry to lose him when there was still so much he didn’t know about him. Unless he could swing it so that he didn’t have to.

There was a buzz in the air on the fourth day since Hongjoong had been captured. He wasn’t sure what time it was when two burly men came down to his cell to let him out. When he was brought up on deck, the captain was standing there looking like the cat who caught the canary. Seonghwa was standing nearby but the expression on his face was conflicted. There were three men waiting, they looked like town guards and perhaps a magistrate. They handed the captain a small purse, presumably the reward for catching the dread pirate, before they clapped Hongjoong in irons and began to drag him away.

“Bye bye, I’ll see you at your hanging.” The captain called after Hongjoong.

Now that Hongjoong was taken care of, the captain turned a brilliant smile on Seonghwa, who couldn’t help feeling a little sick. “Now that I’ve seen to it that that miscreant will hang, what say you we have a talk eh?”

Seonghwa took a last look at Hongjoong’s back, he wanted to run after them but he managed to suppress the impulse before following after the captain who headed into his cabin. “You’ve proven to be an excellent first mate, have you ever thought about captaining your own ship?”

“Sir?” Seonghwa looked puzzled at the question.

“Well now that I’ve done what I wanted to do, I’d like to retire, head back home to my wife and family. That means this ship will need a captain, I’d like to hand her over to you. You keep running it in my name and we split the profits, what do you think?”

It sounded like a dream come true, “Are you sure, sir?”

“I think it sounds like a fine plan. Your first task as captain is to let the men have shore leave for the next week.”

“Yes sir!” Seonghwa did as he was bid to the delights of all of the crew

Seonghwa himself headed into town and found an inn. He was looking forward to sleeping in a bed that didn’t sway and a fresh meal. As he sat down to his lunch he couldn’t help but imagine Hongjoong in jail. In the days they had spent together, they had grown to know each other quite well and he just couldn’t stand the idea of him locked up without a friend nearby to hear his woes or maybe help to make him a little more comfortable. If he were completely honest, the man he had gotten to know didn’t deserve the hangman’s noose. He deserved his freedom. He kept telling himself that he wasn’t going to interfere but still he found himself asking the locals as to the location of the local jail.

It was in a small wooden building, the front was where the guards sat and the back was the jail. It was a small town and it didn’t look like their city guard was the largest employer in town. It was a small and run down building. He couldn’t imagine it would be particularly warm or well insulated.

“What am I doing?” Seonghwa paced back and forth. He wanted to go see him, make sure he was alright. But he already didn’t like the idea that he was going to die. He didn’t like the idea of him being hurt or suffering at all. Maybe he was too soft hearted. By the time he finally made up his mind to go, it was getting dark. He marched up to the guardhouse. There was an exceptionally tall man talking to one of the guards animatedly.

He approached the other guard who was sitting behind a desk smoking a pipe and looking bored. “Excuse me, I was wondering if I could see a prisoner.”

“Sure, I’d ask who but there’s only the one?” The man drawled as he pulled his feet from the desk and sat up.

“Kim Hongjoong.” Seonghwa said anyway.

The man who was talking to the other guard looked momentarily surprised and stopped talking but seemed to shrug it off and returned to his conversation. He couldn’t tell since it was at his back but the man was now watching him.

The guard took him back into the back of the jail, there were only two cells and only one of them was occupied. Hongjoong was stretched out on the floor staring blankly up at the ceiling, when he heard the footsteps stop in front of his cell, he said without looking over, “I was wondering if you were going to come see me.”

“I almost didn’t.” Seonghwa said as he grabbed a chair from the corner and dragged it over to sit by the cell.

“What made you change your mind?” Hongjoong sat up and turned to face his visitor.

“I had a question for you.”

“Oh?” Hongjoong perked up and gave a curious tilt of the head.

“Is it true?” Seonghwa leaned forward, lowering his tone and resting his elbows on his knees.

“Is what true?”

“How you came to be on our ship?” It was the one question that he hadn’t asked that he had wanted to.

Hongjoong was quiet for a moment as he contemplated Seonghwa, “Let me ask you a question, how close are you to the captain?”

“He’s my employer. He took me on after my father retired. It’s purely business and if I’m completely honest…” He looked around and added, “I don’t really care for him much.”

Hongjoong pursed his lips thoughtfully, “Hm… Then in that case, I don’t feel bad letting you know the truth. It was a plot.”

“A plot?”

“A plan, a ruse, a machination, you see… my ship was harbored in the bay that your ship sailed into. If I didn’t do something, then we would have been stuck with no way to run. Your ship is a good deal larger than mine, we were outgunned, outmanned and trapped. My crew means everything to me and if I could save them by sacrificing myself then I would… and I did. I was kind of hoping for an opportunity to escape but one never came.” Hongjoong sniffed and brushed the back of his finger against the tip of his nose.

“Is that why you were so friendly with me?” Seonghwa asked.

“Yes and no.” He answered honestly. “If you would have given me the chance, I would have taken it but you didn’t. I don’t hold it against you and I don’t regret having spent time with you. I-”

Hongjoong looked thoughtful, carefully thinking about what he wanted to say. He finally gave up with a sigh and shrugged, “I like you. I like talking to you, spending time with you. Even if we had met under different circumstances, I would have still liked you.”

Seonghwa opened and closed his mouth a couple of times and dropped his head thoughtfully. Conflicted emotions reflected in Seonghwa’s face, “I almost wish I had, you sacrificed yourself for your men. That’s not an act that should be punished but celebrated. I think, believe it or not, you might actually be a good man.”

Hongjoong smiled brightly, “That’s a hell of a thing to say to a man sitting in a cell waiting for escape or the hangman’s noose.”

“I believe it.”

“Then,” Hongjoong scooted closer to the bars, “if I asked, would you help me?”

“Help you how?” Seonghwa was completely cognizant of the fact that he might be being played but he didn’t think that Hongjoong was playing him.

At the skeptical expression on Seonghwa’s face, Hongjoong waved his hands. “No, it’s nothing like that. Could you take a message to one of my crew, I know they are here. There’s no way they would let me swing without trying… something.”

“Only a message?”

“Only a message.”

“What’s the message and who am I taking it to?”

“There’s an inn on the far side of town, away from the harbor, near the blacksmith. There’s a man named Choi Jongho, he’ll be staying there.” He proceeded to describe him down to the fact that he dressed far more nicely than you would expect of a pirate, a bit of a dandy and his jewelry.

“Would you tell him that if the weather’s fair then open the sails and if the skies are threatening, to fold up the sails and ride out the weather.”

Seonghwa frowned at the message, it sounded plain and harmless enough but he wasn’t a total fool. He knew there was meaning to what he was being asked to say. “Alright, I’ll deliver it.”

He took a deep breath and looked at Hongjoong squarely, “If you get the chance…”

Hongjoong turned a brilliant smile on him, “Absolutely. I’m a man who takes every opportunity he gets.”

“After I deliver your message, I’ve got some business to attend to but I’ll come back to see you again.”

“You know,” he paused and then nodded, “I think I’d like that very much. I’ll look forward to it.”

Seonghwa bid Hongjoong farewell feeling both better and worse than he had when he had arrived. He now knew the truth of how he had come to be on the ship but now that he knew the truth, he couldn’t just let him sit in a cell until they hung him.

He followed the directions he had been given to the inn near the blacksmith. When he asked for Choi Jongho the man eyed him coolly until he said he had a message from his captain. He repeated it back to him word for word. “He would say that. Idiot.”

He looked Seonghwa up and down, “Why did he send you with it?”

“I told him I wanted to help him if I could. I don’t think he deserves to be executed, maybe some prison time but not executed.”

Choi Jongho laughed outright, “Hopefully, it won’t come to that. Thank you for the message.”

If the captain trusted him, he felt like he ought to extend him the same but the captain tended to fly by the seat of his pants sometimes and he was more cautious than that. He bid Seonghwa farewell and called together the other members of the crew to tell them about the captain’s message and then they all waited for Yunho and San to return to find out whether or not the guards were bribeable.

It was quite late when Seonghwa got time to go back to the jail. He should probably just wait until the morning but he didn’t want to leave Hongjoong waiting to know that his message had been delivered, assuming it was as important as he thought it might be. Much to his surprise not only was the door unlocked but there were no guards to be seen. Did they go home at night? That would be strange wouldn’t it? It wasn’t as if they had a lot of prisoners to watch but what if something happened? What if someone escaped? Although, in this case, he wished someone would escape. If it was empty and the keys were nearby...Yes, he would let him out.

If his men were here then that meant that his ship was here and they could escape. The captain would be livid if Hongjoong escaped but he didn’t care about the fragile ego of one vindictive old man who spent three years chasing someone because of one lost ship when he owned a whole fleet.

Seonghwa turned back to look at the open guardhouse door when he heard a sound behind him. He turned to see Hongjoong and then just as suddenly, he felt the other man’s lips close on his, his hand reaching up to cup Seonghwa’s cheek. He was too startled to remember to respond or push him away or react at all. He felt the hot wet brush of his tongue against his lips before he pulled away.

All he could manage was to gape at the shorter man who had just kissed him. Finally he managed, “You’re out.”

Hongjoong smiled, “I am and I’m getting out of here. Wanna come with me?”

“With you?”

“Whether you're coming with me or not, let’s get out of here. The guards won’t be gone forever.” Hongjoong grabbed Seonghwa’s hand and tugged him out of the guardhouse and toward the docks. As they walked, Seonghwa looked down at their still joined hands in total bemusement. He didn’t know what to do or say but he did notice when a man intercepted them.

“Captain.”

“San, is the ship ready?”

“Sort of.”

“I can’t really linger around these parts, we need to go - Now.”

“We had more damage from the storm than we realized and by the time we got into port… There’s no way the shipwright can have the repairs finished by the time we needed so…” San gestured for the pair to follow him. He spared a glance at Seonghwa, wondering if that was the man who had delivered the captain’s message to Jongho.

If the captain thought he was good to join the crew then it was alright by him. The more the merrier. However, the way they were holding hands made him think it might be something else. He guided them to the docks and right to Seonghwa’s ship. Seonghwa stopped before following up the gangplank when Hongjoong pulled up to a stop, “Are you serious?”

“It really was the best option,” said San.

“And Yunho was feeling vindictive.” said another man who was a little shorter than San and bore an open smile. “It’s good to have you back captain. If you ever do anything like that again, I’ll keelhaul you myself.”

Hongjoong laughed, “It’s good to see you too Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung grabbed Hongjoong up in a warm hug and squeezed him tight. Hongjoong gave a little squeak at the force with which he was hugged.

“Where’s the crew?” Hongjoong asked as he canted his head toward the ship.

“Shore leave.” commented Seonghwa. All heads turned to look at him questioningly.

“This is Park Seonghwa, he was the first mate on this ship but he’ll be joining us now. Right?” He turned to look at Seonghwa.

Finally Seonghwa snapped out of the haze that he had been pitched into when Hongjoong kissed him. “I-”

Did he want to go with them? It surely meant being hunted, they were wanted men after all. Hongjoong was an escaped prisoner, a thief, a pirate, and who knew what else. Yet he was thinking about it, seriously.

“Go on, I’ll catch up.” Hongjoong said to the assembled men before he turned back to Seonghwa. “Are you scared?”

“Yes.”

“But you want to.”

“Yes.”

“Well then there’s only one thing to do, come with us and you can say you were asleep in your room when we took the ship, so we accidentally kidnapped you. If you change your mind later, then we can let you off at the next port of call.” Not waiting to see if Seonghwa agreed with him or not, Hongjoong grabbed his hand again and dragged him behind him up the gangplank.

“Captain.” Yunho walked out onto the deck and smiled broadly.

“How much did it cost?” Hongjoong asked.

“They really should pay their guards more because it didn’t even take a quarter of our last haul to see to it that they found something else to do for half an hour.”

Hongjoong nodded, “Good, good if everyone’s on board, let’s shove off shall we?”

“Aye, aye captain.” Yunho turned and began to bark out orders. The men all jumped to and began to make way to set sail.

“By the way Yunho…”

Yunho stopped what he was doing and turned to look at his captain.

“Thank you.”

Yunho smiled and nodded, “You’re welcome. It’s good to have you back captain.”

“It’s good to be back. This is Park Seonghwa, he’ll - hopefully, be joining us permanently. He was the first mate of this ship but I think he needs a little time to get to know us first… or maybe just me. Seonghwa, this is my first mate Jeong Yunho. After we get out of here, I’ll take you around and introduce you to everyone. We’ve got some really good people on this ship.”

“Energetic people.” Yunho added with a touch of mirth.

“Maybe we have too much energy.” Hongjoong posited.

Yunho snickered and went back to work. As they cleared the harbor, the town bells sounded, likely announcing that there had been an escape. Hongjoong turned to Seonghwa, “Want to show me around? Show me the captain’s quarters. I know the brig well enough, it’ll be nice to see the rest of the ship.”

Seonghwa still wasn’t quite sure this all felt real. One minute he had been trying to think of the best way to help Hongjoong escape, the next minute he was on a stolen ship making their escape. Then it occurred to him exactly what they had just done. They had stolen yet another ship from the man who had spent three years chasing him down for having stolen his ship.

Would he immediately outfit another ship and give chase again? He knew that his wife held the purse strings and she wanted him back home. Somehow he couldn’t imagine her sanctioning another three year long wild goose chase. He was likewise sure that Hongjoong wouldn’t allow himself to be caught again so easily, unless his men were on the line again. That didn’t seem like the kind of situation that happened more than once. The real question was, now what was he doing here? Was he perhaps infatuated with the dashing pirate? That was the only reason he could think of that he had accepted the offer of joining them as a trial run. His family was going to kill him if he became a pirate. He was supposed to take a few years out to sea and then come home and learn the family business with his brother, not take up piracy because he had a crush on a pirate.

“Sure,” he said after perhaps too long of a pause. “I’ll give you a tour, we can start at the bottom and work our way up.”

Fifteen minutes later they were standing at the door to the captain’s quarters. The door was locked but Seonghwa had the key.

“I guess he trusted you.” Hongjoong commented as he watched Seonghwa unlock the door.

That gave him a pang of guilt as he pushed the door open, “He offered me the captaincy of this ship after they took you away.”

“So I stole your ship?” Hongjoong asked as he followed Seonghwa into the room and closed the door behind them. It was poshly appointed. The furnishings were over the top in the extreme, it was as if the former captain was furnishing a mansion instead of a room on a ship. No wonder he had locked it.

“I hadn’t exactly taken control yet.” He said. It hadn’t actually sunk in yet that this ship was going to be his. Perhaps it was his ship that had been stolen but it didn’t feel that way.

“That’s not right, I don’t steal from friends.”

“Friends?”

“We are friends aren’t we?” Hongjoong took a step toward Seonghwa.

Seonghwa felt his heart pick up pace and he swallowed hard in a suddenly dry throat. “Are we?”

“Unless you want to be more…” Hongjoong reached out and brushed the backs of his fingers over Seonghwa’s cheek.

“What do you mean more?” Seonghwa’s voice cracked and he cleared his throat.

“I want to be your lover. You don’t know that already?” He asked.

Without really realizing he was doing it, Seonghwa took the final step forward, closing the distance between the two of them. There was nothing that separated them now. He leaned down, eyes intense as they met Hongjoong’s before he kissed him. The softness of their lips played together, their tongues met giving an electric thrill.

Seonghwa gave a small sound of pleasure as they sank into one another, their arms stealing around one another, bodies flush together. Their hands began to roam over each other. Seonghwa’s lips traveled down over Hongjoong’s jawline, down to his throat. He tasted his pulse thrumming against his lips, he scraped his teeth over the silken skin of his neck. “Why am I so captivated by you?”

“The same reason that I can’t get you out of my head.” Hongjoong gasped and sighed.

“I know the feeling, every time I close my eyes I see you, hear your voice, I can’t stop thinking about you. God you taste so good…” He leaned back in and reclaimed Hongjoong’s lips.

Running his hands up over Seonghwa’s stomach, he caught the material of his blouse and pulled it up, his fingers grazing against his bare skin as he did so. They traveled further, slipping under the soft linen as they moved over his bare chest, the slightly long tips of his nails raking over Seonghwa’s nipples. They tightened at the delicate scraping. A soft moan slipped between their joined lips, let out with a sigh.

Seonghwa pulled his jacket from his shoulders and let it drop at their feet, Hongjoong caught his shirt and pulled it up over his head, immediately dropping his head to rain kisses over his bare chest, to taste his skin.

Seonghwa moved to pull off Hongjoong’s clothes as Hongjoong worked at his partners’. They moved in concert back toward the bed, Seonghwa moving over the smaller man as they moved. The heat of their bodies grinding together, their cocks sliding together. Hongjoong reached between them, wrapping his fingers around their lengths, trapping them against one another as he stroked.

Seonghwa’s golden skin was beginning to glisten in the low lamp light. A drop of sweat trickled down over his smooth chest, running down to where their naked bodies pressed together. His kisses traversed their way down over Hongjoong’s chin, his throat, suckling and biting his nipples before continuing down. The muscles in his stomach trembled as Seonghwa’s lips brushed down over his ribs to his hip bones. Hongjoong squirmed, his hips rising up as Seonghwa’s beautiful lips wrapped around the head of his cock. His finger’s winding in Seonghwa’s thick dark locks, a heady sigh falling from his parted lips.

He had never wanted anyone so badly as he wanted Seonghwa and his body was on fire and Seonghwa’s touch were the flames that consumed him. He watched the way his lips glided over him, consuming him. He was so beautiful, their eyes met and Hongjoong smiled, “You’re going to make me cum if you keep that up.”

“Maybe I want you to cum… or maybe I just want to make you squirm.” Seonghwa smiled in return as he flicked his tongue against the sensitive underside of Hongjoong’s throbbing prick. Then quite suddenly, Seonghwa dropped his head down, pushing Hongjoong’s cock all the way to the back of his throat before bobbing his head up and down.

A sudden hiss and a sharp inhalation of breath as Hongjoong slammed his hands down against the bed, his hips arching upward without his bidding. His orgasm was ripped from him as he fucked back against Seonghwa’s face.

The first spurt of sticky sweet cum hit the back of Seonghwa’s throat as he sucked milking him for every last drop.

Slowly he let his lover’s cock slip from his lips as he crawled back up over his body. He caught Hongjoong’s lips in a sultry kiss before murmuring against him, “We need-...”

“I came prepared.” Hongjoong interjected before he turned and leaned over the side of the bed to capture his clothes. From a pouch tied to his belt, he produced a small corked bottle. As he wiggled back onto the bed, he held it up and shook it slightly.

“See?” He pulled the stopper and poured a liberal amount of oil into his palm and reached for Seonghwa’s swollen length. Seonghwa’s head fell back, throaty groan slipping past his full lips. He rested back on his hands, presenting himself for Hongjoong’s attentions.

The teasing smile was back on Hongjoong’s lips again as he lifted the bottle and poured some of the oil over Seonghwa’s chest and stomach, leaving him glistening as he ran his hands down, to return to stroking. He bowed his head to suckle Seonghwa’s balls and nibble the insides of his thighs. God he was so beautiful in the lamp light, his eyes filled with a universe of stars as he stared at him with unabashed lust, his golden skin aglow.

His breathing grew short, he could feel himself getting close so he reached out and caught Hongjoong’s hand and brought his fingers up to kiss them. “I want more than that now, I want you.”

Hongjoong licked his lips and nodded as he leaned into Seonghwa’s and kissed him. Seonghwa’s arm slipped around his waist as he leveraged Hongjoong back into the mass of pillows, slipping easily between his thighs. He buried his face against his throat and breathed, “I want to be inside you.”

Hongjoong gasped at the nip of teeth at his neck, he could feel Seonghwa’s cock sliding against him, not as eager as his words made him seem but slowly and methodically grinding against him. He wriggled against his touch as Seonghwa’s reached between their bodies and slid his slick, oiled fingers against him and into him.

“I’ve never done this before…” Hongjoong breathed. “But for you, I want you.”

Seonghwa raised his head and looked down at Hongjoong, instead of teasing or darkly lustful, there was supreme tenderness and affection. “I’ll go slow.”

As he promised, he slowly worked against him not going any further than his virgin’s body was ready for. Incrementally, Hongjoong began to relax beneath him. Only when almost all resistance was gone did he begin to enter him. Jesus, so hot, so tight. As he hilted himself he let out a sigh and for a lingering moment, he just held still, “Are you alright?”

Hongjoong nodded, “Yes.”

While the slow entry had spared him any discomfort, it had driven him slowly insane so that now he would have killed any man who dared to try to separate them. “Now fuck me.”

Seonghwa’s tongue flicked out to lap at Hongjoong’s lips before he languidly and fluidly began to move. “As you command.”

With little rolling lifts of his hips, Hongjoong rose to meet each and every thrust. His lover’s cock stimulated something deep inside of him, driving him nearly wild. They moved together, their pace increasing with a shared urgency.

Hongjoong’s fingers dug into Seonghwa’s back, leaving small crescent indentations. His balls tightened as molten sugar unwound in his stomach, slowly reaching its burning tendrils through him. The first spasm forced him to slam his head back into the pillow, the second brought a cry as his cum shot up between their joined bodies. Seonghwa’s arms sealed around him as he began to fuck him with ferocity. Each thrust brought a deep guttural growl, his cock swelled, balls tightened, and then he came, filling his lover with wave after wave of his seed.

For a lingering moment, they lay still, both lost in their own little world of pleasure. Seonghwa was the first to move, turning his head to pepper Hongjoong’s neck and ear with little kisses. Eventually, he sighed and rolled off to the side, grabbing a pillow and tucking it behind his head as he pulled Hongjoong into his arms. Hongjoong took a deep breath and let it out in a rush as he laid his head on the pillow beside Seonghwa.

“I think,” Hongjoong began as he adjusted himself in the bed. “I’m glad this all happened. Sure I had to spend a few days in a jail cell but I got you.”

Seonghwa chuckled and let his eyes fall shut. He hadn’t realized exactly how stressed he had been, not until he felt the last of that stress flow out of him with his orgasm. “My new captain is making me feel quite welcome indeed.”

“Are you sure you can do it?” Hongjoong lifted his head and looked at Seonghwa seriously.

“Do what?” He reached up and ran his long, slender fingers over Hongjoong’s sweaty hair and face.

“Piracy.” While he had no doubts that Seonghwa would stay with him if he asked him to, he wanted to make sure that it was actually something that he wanted. He was equally sure he had the other man’s affections but was this life really what he wanted or had he allowed himself to be swept away.

Seonghwa bit the corner of his bottom lip thoughtfully, “I don’t know, really. I never thought I would become a pirate. I also never thought I’d help a fugitive escape jail and a hanging and then steal my ship.”

“Take some time and think it over.” Hongjoong sighed and laid back down. “It’s late and being in a comfortable bed reminds me of how little sleep I’ve had the last few days. It’s late, what say you we get some sleep?”

“Alright.” Seonghwa hadn’t really been giving any thought to his predicament. He had, as Hongjoong thought, just allowed himself to be buoyed along. Now that he had time to think about it, would he be able to do it? He wasn’t a fighter, he never had been and had only fought when his life had deemed it necessary and that wasn’t more than a couple of times. What would it do to his family? He was quite close with his family and he didn’t want to hurt them.

There was another matter, he was quite sure he was falling in love with Hongjoong at breakneck speed. If he were to stay with him, he would hurt his family and perhaps shorten his life. If he were to leave then… then he would break his heart? He wanted nothing more than to give into his heart but what should he do? It was the same thoughts chasing each other around his brain until he finally fell asleep in the small hours of the morning.

He awoke early as he felt Hongjoong slipping out of his arms. He opened his tired eyes to see the other man smiling down at him before brushing a kiss across his lips and whispering, “Go back to sleep, you deserve it.”

Seonghwa didn’t argue. His eyes were already closed before Hongjoong’s feet hit the floor and he was already returning to slumber before he reached the door.

Yunho gave him a look as he sat down at the officer’s table, a knowing smile on his lips.

“What?” Hongjoong asked the younger man.

“Me? I didn’t say a word.”

It was obvious from the expressions on the faces of the assembled men that the entire crew probably knew but none of them seemed inclined to ask the questions. Silent smirks and two looks of feigned innocence, one from San and the other from Mingi, were all Hongjoong received as he looked down the table.

“So!” Jongho broke the silence, “What position is our new crewman going to have? Yunho is the first mate, that’s not to say you couldn’t have two first mates… I think I heard Park Seonghwa was supposed to be captain of this ship?”

Hongjoong’s own smile faded a little at that. He wanted Seonghwa to stay but he wasn’t sure he should. Most of the men under his command had come to him from other pirate vessels or had their own situations that made serving with him ideal. Seonghwa’s situation was quite different and as much as he wanted to keep him with him, he wasn’t sure it was best for him. The thought of letting him go twisted his heart into knots. He had never been in love before but he was getting dangerously close to loving Park Seonghwa. Maybe he already did, it was hard to say never having felt this way before. Sure he had slacked his lusts but love? Never.

“What new crewman?” Mingi asked.

All of the heads at the table turned to look at him.

“The new crewman who came aboard with the captain last night.” Wooyoung answered.

“I didn’t see him. Where is he now?” Mingi asked for more information.

Yunho dropped his head into his hand and Wooyoung’s grin grew a little wider as he decided to answer again, “I imagine he’s still in the captain’s quarters.”

Yunho peeked up at Mingi through his fingers as if to beg him with his eyes alone to cease his line of questioning before it got uncomfortable.

Mingi started to open his mouth when he yelped in pain. He was seated at the end of the table between Yeosang and Wooyoung. He shot a look at Yeosang who was an expert at looking like a beautiful serene statue. Whatever he had done, his expression hadn’t changed but Mingi seemed to get the hint. He reached under the table and rubbed at his leg.

Hongjoong shook his head, “We can decide that, if he decides to stay. I’m not sure he will yet.”

“Why wouldn’t he stay?” San asked curiously.

“I’m not sure he’s cut out for the pirate’s life. He’s got a good family, a good job if he wants it.” Hongjoong shrugged and reached for his breakfast.

San straightened his spine as he said, “We’ve got the best family.”

All of the men hurrahed at that and breakfast settled down into something more normal… and boisterous.

The next three weeks were like a dream for Seonghwa. He sailed with the men of the Treasure, spent his days working beside them, spent his nights with the man he had come to love but there was a growing unease. He knew that Hongjoong was avoiding other ships but he was a pirate and he couldn’t avoid other ships forever. The men were looking forward to their next great haul. Hongjoong was not just a pirate but a successful one and the day they rather accidentally ran into some low hanging fruit was the day he knew.

Seonghwa stood outside the door listening as he heard Yunho and Hongjoong arguing about the validity of the target, a poorly defended merchantman carrying fewer than 8 guns. He knew Hongjoong was avoiding getting into any scrapes to protect him, he couldn’t let him keep doing it. A very angry looking Yunho stormed out of the captain’s room and he went in. “You should take it.”

Hongjoong didn’t look up from the map he was looking at, “Why’s that?”

“Because the only reason you haven’t already gone for it is because of me. The men are restless as it is. You can’t keep avoiding it because you think I can’t take it. This is, as much as we might like to have it otherwise, a pirate’s ship and you are a pirate. If I’m to stay with you, I have to learn to live with this part of life. If I can’t do it then…” Seonghwa let his words trail off, a knot forming in his throat.

Hongjoong finally looked up and met Seonghwa’s eyes and sighed. He was determined. Hongjoong was silent for a long moment before he nodded and walked over to Seonghwa and kissed him. “Alright, tell the men.”

Seonghwa clung to Hongjoong for a lingering moment before he turned and briskly walked out of the cabin. The next few minutes were an absolute whirlwind of activity. All of the usual silliness, chaos and levity were gone and they became a force of nature. They were focused and deadly accurate. They carried out the strike perfectly. Seonghwa watched with a semi-detached air. Could he do this? The first thing that hit him was the thrill, the exhilaration but he wasn’t sure.

The two ships collided. The men from the Treasure poured onto the decks of other ship. Blades clashed and the men of the Treasure worked as a well oil machine. Hongjoong found their captain readily, he was old but still defiant as they crossed blades. What he lacked in youth, he made up for in sheer bloody mindedness. He concentrated as he fought the captain, there wasn’t a man alive who wouldn’t tell you his next move if you were attentive.

There! Hongjoong feinted to the left as his opponent made a move to block but he left himself open. He struck, bringing him down. Just as he struck he heard a voice yell, “No!”

The rapport of a pistol shot rang out across the deck and momentarily all fell silent. Directly behind Hongjoong, a man lay supine. He had been just inches away from burying his blade in the pirate captain’s back. Seonghwa stood with perfect form, holding his pistol, smoke wafting up from the tip.

Seonghwa had just saved Hongjoong’s life.

The men were elated with the booty they had looted, it was far more than anyone expected. The casks were opened and the alcohol poured freely as the men rejoiced.

Seonghwa sat silently in the captain’s quarters in the dark. He hadn’t even realized that the sun had set, so deeply lost in thought was he. It wasn’t the first time he had killed a man and he had done it in defense of another. He didn’t feel badly about it and that was what bothered him. The captain had been the only man who had died today but he wouldn’t be the last. Every single man of the Treasure would fight to the last to protect one another and their way of life. They loved it, they thrived on it. He too had felt the touch of exhilaration, the rush of blood in his veins. The only thing that came close was making love with Hongjoong.

He knew he could do it. He knew he would grow to love it if he stayed. That was what scared him.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

A voice yanked him from his quiet reverie. “Oh, yes.”

“We’re headed in, we should make port in about eight days.”

“Eight days? I didn’t think we were that far from shore.”

“We aren’t but I thought it might be nice for you to go home, see your family.” Hongjoong didn’t put on a lamp, but just walked over to stand behind Seonghwa’s chair, putting an arm around his shoulders.

“I see.”

The silence was thick and heavy between them but neither seemed inclined to break it.

“How did you know?” Seonghwa asked at long last.

“One of the things I love best about you is your tender heart. What kind of man would I be if I destroyed the one of the things that I loved best about you?” Hongjoong’s voice was barely above a whisper but it carried in the darkened space.

“Promise me something.” Seonghwa said as he turned to look up at the moonlight kissed visage of the man he loved.

Hongjoong cocked his head slightly to one side, reaching to run his fingers over Seonghwa’s hair, “What’s that?”

“Promise me that if you ever decide to retire from piracy that you’ll come find me.”

Hongjoong smiled and drew a slow breath, “I will come find you.”

“Bring the rest of the crew too, we always need more hands.”

“You’re part of the crew. They’ve grown as fond of you as I have.”

“Have they really?”

“Well, maybe not quite as fond as I have.” Hongjoong turned his head and pressed a kiss to Seonghwa’s cheek.

Seonghwa closed his eyes and concentrated on the warmth of that small kiss. Eight days…

***

Seonghwa stood on the cliff by his family home looking out toward the sea. It had been three years to the day since he had said farewell to the crew of the Treasure and its exceptional captain. He hadn’t really known whether he would see Hongjoong again and he regretted his choice everyday. Now with three years between him and the roguish captain’s smile, he could see clearly. Life only gives you chances at real love maybe once if you’re lucky.

He had his chance and he had surrendered it because he was afraid of change, because he was afraid of the lifestyle. He had been wrong and now there was no way to go back and change it.

Hot tears trickled down his cold cheeks and he sniffed before reaching up to wipe them away. He knew now he would never see Hongjoong again and he had to live with that, as much as it hurt him everyday.

“Can’t you find him?”

Seonghwa turned and saw his mother standing behind him. She was the only one he had ever told the truth about his ‘accidental kidnapping’. The only one he had ever told the truth about the only love he would ever have. Not entirely trusting himself to speak, he shook his head before looking back at the sea.

“You don’t have to go through with this you know. I know your father is pressuring you and Soojin is a nice girl but…” His mother sighed. The wedding was in two days and she had tried to talk Seonghwa’s father out of it but he didn’t see the problem. Seonghwa was a good looking, polite boy from a good family. Soojin was a good looking, polite girl from a good family. They made for a good match and they seemed to like each other as friends at least. It was as good of a start for a marriage as any, so her husband thought. It was better than the beginnings of most marriages these days. She understood his reasoning but he hadn’t been the one to hold Seonghwa as he cried his heart out as he explained what happened.

She knew it wasn’t as if you could just post a letter to a pirate. If she could see his broken heart mended, she would go find this pirate herself and send her son to him but she didn’t know any better how to find a man who was constantly on the move and didn’t want to be found any better than her son did.

“Come on, let’s go inside. You’ll catch a cold and you don’t want to catch a cold right before your wedding.” She caught Seonghwa’s hand and he gave one last lingering look at the horizon before turning to dutifully follow after his mother.

“Why don’t you go down to the market and buy some of those buns you and I both love?” His mother suggested to take his mind off of things.

“Why don’t you come with me, mother.”

“Your father will be home soon, I wanted to talk to him when he gets home.”

“You’re going to try to talk him out of the wedding again aren’t you?” he asked with a sad smile.

“I’ll talk to him about what I’ll talk to him about. If it was for your ears, I would ask you to be there. Now shoo.” She swatted his behind lightly and bodily shoved him off toward the market while she stood watching him go.

The market was bustling, he had to squeeze his way between bodies to make his way to the vendor he was looking for. Someone bumped into him without apologizing or even slowing down. They hit him hard too. He turned and caught a glimpse of a familiar face, Choi Jongho? No, it couldn’t possibly be. He turned and tried to follow after the man, trying to push through the throngs of people who were all trying to go in the opposite direction. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t make any leeway. He finally caught a pocket of space and managed to break through. He raced after the man he thought he had seen and caught up to someone wearing a jacket the same color as who he thought he had seen. The man turned and it wasn’t him.

Of course it wouldn’t be.

It was all he could do to keep from breaking down there in the middle of the market. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He turned around and made his way back to the vendor who was selling the buns he had been sent to buy. He wasn’t hungry anymore but his mother wanted them. The entire way home, he scanned the faces of the crowds of people around him. Surely who he had seen had just had a resemblance to his old friend.

He realized how much he missed them then, not just the love of his life but the entire crew. He had grown close to them all and it felt just as much home to him as the place where he had grown up.

What a fool he had been.

The entire next day, he moved through a haze. It didn’t feel like he was going to get married. He liked Soojin, she was a nice girl but she never could or would be the one he loved. Yet he would do what his father wanted him to. Maybe she could help him find some kind of, if not happiness then contentment.

His wedding day dawned bright and early. The families had planned the wedding for the late morning. He honestly hadn’t been too bothered by it one way or another. Actually, he hadn’t really cared about any of the wedding arrangements and only nominally cared about the choice of the bride. He checked the time and got dressed. He was just checking the mirror before heading out when a sound caught his attention. It sounded like someone saying, “Sorry about this.”

Just as he started to turn, there was a sharp and sudden pain behind his left ear and consciousness faded. The last thing he saw was the ground rushing up to greet him.

When he opened his eyes, it was dark but the room was warmly lit with lamp light and candlelight. At first, he had no idea where he was. There was something familiar though, a scent, old paper, candle wax, the tang of the sea. No. He had to be dreaming there was no way.

“How’s your head?”

Very slowly, he turned to see Hongjoong sitting beside him. His jaw slowly dropped open and he stared open mouthed at the very man he had been dreaming of for the past three years. “Hongjoong?”

“I’m glad you remember me. I would be heartbroken to think we had gone to all of this trouble and you didn’t even remember me.”

“Like I could ever forget you.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Hongjoong smiled and put down the book he had been reading.

“Wait.”

“Hm?”

“You kidnapped me!” Seonghwa accused.

“Well, technically I didn’t do it. San, Jongho, and Yeosang kidnapped you but I did ask them to and I was in on the planning. I was on the distraction team, I didn’t think I could hit you.” He reached out and gingerly brushed his fingers over Seonghwa’s hair.

“Why did you kidnap me?” Seonghwa asked, wholly bemused.

“When I found out you were getting married, I wasn’t sure that you would walk away from it. You know I can be a little impetuous sometimes and I’ll be honest, I was a little hurt.”

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. It’s been three years…”

Hongjoong winced, “I know but I wanted to be sure that I was the man I wanted you to come back to… and I love you.”

“Hongjoong…”

“I’ll be completely honest, I was so hurt I was ready to walk away and let you get married. Wooyoung was the one who decided we needed to kidnap you, for your own good. If you want to go back then we can take you back. If you want to stay-”

“I want to stay. I know I was wrong, there hasn’t been a day I haven’t regretted the choice I made. I missed you, every minute of every day. Every night I would lay in my bed wishing I could turn back the clock to make my choice again. If I could have, I would have never walked off of this boat.”

“Are you sure?” Hongjoong asked leaning forward, elbows on his knees.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything. I want to be here. I want to be with you. I want … I want the ocean, I want to sail the world beside you. I want to be part of this family.”

A slow smile curved Hongjoong’s lips and he blinked his eyes, overbright with unshed emotion. “How dare you try to make me cry.”

“I’m not trying to make you cry.” Seonghwa said innocently.

“I know, that makes it worse.” Hongjoong drew a shaky breath and reached out for Seonghwa’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being on my side, for wanting to be with me.” He leaned in, their noses almost touching.

Seonghwa squeezed Hongjoong’s small hand in his, he leaned further, closing the distance between them, sealing Hongjoong’s lips with his. God how he missed the taste of him, the smell of him, the feel of him. He tasted tears, he wasn’t sure to whom the tears belonged but he didn’t want to stop kissing him, not ever.

“This is only the beginning,” whispered Hongjoong against Seonghwa’s lips.

Seonghwa smiled, his eyes still closed. “Here’s to our beginning.”

Again their lips came together, Seonghwa reaching up, his fingers slipping into Hongjoong’s wild locks, pulling him closer. Hongjoong rose and climbed into the bed beside his lover.

“I missed you so much.” Hongjoong murmured into their kiss.

“I’ll never leave your side again.”

“You better not, I’ll just have to kidnap you back again.” he teased with a nip of Seonghwa’s lips.

“Who knows, I might start to like it.”

Their lips, their bodies, their destiny came together in joy and love.

NOTE: Other words can be found on my master list.

#ateez #ateez imagine #Ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #seongjoong #honghwa #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez smut and fluff #kpop smut #kpop imagine

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prettywordsyouleft · 4 years ago

Text

To Be Continued - Part 5

Summary: As an author, you had created Brian Kang for your current trilogy series to represent the ultimate man that everyone would love, along with Charli Evers - your female protagonist. What you hadn’t expected was for him to find a way out of the story and begin shaping up your world instead

Pairing: Brian Kang x female writer (ft. Park Sungjin)

Genre: writer au / romance / fantasy

Warnings: fictional characters coming to life / a bit of angst here and there / Sungjin as a cop (or does that only affect me?) >_>

Word count: 2174

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | Epilogue

Somehow you had fallen asleep.

You didn’t quite remember when or how, but when you fluttered your eyes open, the sun was casting a warm light across your body. You felt entirely content, and as you stretched out your arms, you found no niggling thoughts or remnants of your cold.

Had it all been a dream?

Searching around yourself for any obvious signs, you slowly rose to your feet, scooting them into your slippers and wrapped your robe around yourself. Padding down to the kitchen calling out Binks’ name, you stopped when you realised your cat was already preoccupied.

With Brian.

You didn’t know what shocked you more. That it hadn’t been a dream after all, or that your cat – who normally went into hiding at the first sign of a male entering your home – was allowing Brian to scratch under his chin affectionately. The loud purr only indicated Binks’ absolute delight by the gesture, and you scoffed loudly, giving both men the notice of your arrival.

“Seems like you’ve made yourself at home,” you pointed out as you rounded the pair to head for the jug to brew some coffee. You blinked when Brian handed you an already prepared mug, still warm to the touch.

He smiled gently. “I was going to make you breakfast but you’ve beaten me to it.”

“You don’t have to make me anything,” you mentioned, a light cough rising in the back of your throat at the thoughtful offer.

You strangely felt wary of relying on Brian already. After his help from not letting you fall face-first to the ground last night, you were a little shaken up by how easily you wanted to enjoy your time around him. If you allowed your mind to wander, the idea of having breakfast together would become your new favourite thing.

You hoped to god he wouldn’t go into any domestic chores in front of you or it would be incredibly hard to rein in your desires.

Staring at the man, you eventually smiled. “Do you feel okay?”

“Fine. Why?”

“Maybe I should take you to see a doctor? Get you checked out, you know, make sure you’re really here,” you murmured and Brian’s concern soon erased, a smirk adorning his perfectly shaped lips. Ah, if you truly had created this specimen, you had done the best work of your life.

Brian was breathtaking. Perhaps you needed to go get your heart checked out too with how fast it started to beat.

“I’ll go if you want me to.”

“You will?”

Brian nodded as he continued to pet Binks. The feline seemed more than appreciative of your new house guest, winding himself back and forth against Brian’s outstretched hand. Finally, Brian glanced up at you, his eyes bright with joy.

You almost dropped the cup in your hand then. Grappling for it, and thanking yourself silently for draining the coffee before such a moment could occur, you laughed lightly. “Ha. So clumsy!”

“So I can tell. Are you normally like this, or is it just in my presence?”

“Are you generally this straight-forward?” you shot back and Brian cocked his head to the side, knowing full well that you should too know the answer to this question. “Right. Of course. It’s one of your charms.”

“Am I charming you, Miss Writer?”

“Okay! Time for me to get dressed and book you a doctor’s appointment. Maybe a joint one. I’ll need to uh, just check my own sanity out whilst I’m there.”

“Are general practitioners able to do all that in one visit?” Brian teased and you huffed at him before dashing down the hallway, closing your bedroom door behind you and raising your hand to your chest to capture your beating heart.

You willed it to slow down but it seemed out of your control.

“Just like the world and characters I’ve created,” you whispered, glancing at your door and biting at the bottom of your lip as a million thoughts raced through your head.

You were surprisingly relieved that your doctor could see Brian as well. You had half-wondered on your drive over to the clinic if he was simply your imagination. You had often heard about writers having muses that seemingly became like imaginary friends to them over the years. Since you considered yourself a newbie author, you were certain it would take many more years before your muse stepped out from one of your novels like that.

And you certainly hadn’t expected Brian to become this real, if he were your muse.

So to hear Doctor Pritchard greet Brian and see her shake his hand – a little too long for your liking, admittedly – did ease some of your concerns about your well-being.

And solidified Brian’s existence further.

“So you want to get your friend here a general check-up?” the doctor enquired, and you nodded your head eagerly.

“Check him all over. Make sure he’s as perfect as I made – as nature created him to be,” you said with a little laugh, Brian’s lips curling up at your almost mishap.

“Well, I’m sure from what I see, there will be no problems along the way,” the doctor expressed, again concerning you with how her eyes lingered. Realising her unprofessional conduct suddenly, she cleared her throat and began her examination.

You realised you should have waited outside for this. It was all very straight-forward in the beginning. She checked his vision and hearing before looking into the back of this throat. And then she suggested he unbutton his shirt a little so she could listen to his heart. Brian didn’t hesitate, fingers nimbly popping open a few buttons. Even you heard the way the doctor gulped before putting the stethoscope into her ears and placed the other end upon his chest.

Brian shot you a small inquisitive look then, and you darted your gaze to the heavens, wondering why you were testing yourself like this. Keeping them there for the remainder of the examination, you waited for the results to garner your attention.

“Well Brian, aside from the old scars I noticed on your body, you’re in fine form. A wonderful state of health. We’ll need to get a blood test from you but other than that, I’m signing you off as perfect.”

“Really doctor, thank you,” Brian mentioned, oozing his charms so effortlessly. He seemed satisfied by the stumped look upon both yours and the doctor’s faces and got up to follow the nurse who had come in to take him off to get his bloods taken.

And then Doctor Pritchard leaned over her desk towards you. “Where did you find him?!”

“Long story,” you mentioned, realising just how ironic that statement was. Rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly, you then mirrored her action and leaned forward towards her. “So he’s fine?”

“More than fine.”

“I mean, as a person.”

Doctor Pritchard nodded. “He’s healthy, Y/N. You, however, look rough.”

“I had a cold. He helped me get over it.”

“I bet he did,” she mentioned with a sly smile and you gasped at her reaction. She grinned back at you. “What? I struggled! Next time you plan on bringing someone as gorgeous as Brian into my office, warn me first! I didn’t go to medical school for all those years to find myself drooling over a patient. It’s so unprofessional of me!”

“Imagine my surprise when I first--” You stopped, smiling at the doctor who seemed to understand despite not telling her the full story. You weren’t sure how to explain Brian’s existence to anyone yet.

“If you don’t snap him up as your own, Y/N, you’re a fool.”

“Oh, believe me, he’s mine. He’s definitely mine,” you told her, taking the script she had given you to help combat your low immunity before heading for the door.

You didn’t know what you were going to do with Brian now.

“Do you want to go back anytime soon?” you asked Brian later that evening, the man marvelling the crook of his elbow where the nurse had taken blood from him. Leaning closer, you winced when you saw the small bruise rising upon his skin. “That looks painful.”

“She seemed to struggle, much like the doctor did.”

“Does it please you, having so many people fawn over you like this?”

Brian shook his head, though there was a small smile that played upon his lips as he did so. You rolled your eyes in response, and Brian chuckled. “In my world, everyone’s looking at Charli or Devon as beautiful and handsome. Not me.”

“Devon is your rival, so of course he’s seen as successful. Whilst the reader is meant to find you more amazing, just as Charli does.”

“Like you do too.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll admit it. You’re handsome. I made you that way because-”

“Because?” Brian asked, scooting in closer. You stopped breathing, or at least, it felt like you weren’t getting enough air with the way he was intensely awaiting your answer.

Blinking rapidly, you looked back at the TV you had aimlessly turned on. You didn’t watch TV all that often, far too engrossed in the worlds you created.

Yet, you hoped right now it could save you from having to answer him.

“Miss Writer,” Brian prompted, and you groaned.

“Don’t call me that.”

“What should I call you then?” he almost purred, and you leapt up from the couch, heading over to the kitchen to find something to do. You cursed under your breath when Brian followed you, reaching out for the breakfast dishes he had cleaned earlier to put away.

“Just call me by my name.”

“Y/N,” he said, and you hissed, shaking your head. Brian laughed. “What, that is your name!”

“But it feels too… intimate the way you said it.”

“How I said it?” he repeated and you nodded once, not daring to look in his direction. The air around you felt smug, however, and you knew he was pleased again.

The sheer amount of validation you were given him as a person would have been building him up easily. You knew it was one of his insecurities and without realising it, you were paying enough attention to him, much like Charli had begun to do so too.

You wondered if Brian was blurring lines within his own mind now about what you meant to him.

“Why are you here?” you asked softly and Brian’s humour softened, his dark eyes searching yours momentarily.

“I wanted to find out more about you.”

“But why? When you have Charli to concern yourself with?”

“You’re more interesting to me than her,” he whispered, blinking a couple of times when he realised what he had said. Trying to brush it off with a smile, Brian reached out for a bowl but your hand grabbed onto his wrist and stopped him from putting it away.

“Why?”

“You have a lot of questions about me today, Miss Writer.”

“I’m trying to understand how the man I created as my biggest self-indulgence for a character is somehow standing before me right now. I need to figure out how to accept or deny you in my world for my own sanity. I created you because you were missing from my world and now you’re here I…”

Brian placed down the bowl again and turned to face you, seeking out your lowered gaze. Hooking a finger under your chin to lift it back up to him, he smiled gently. “Now I’m here?”

“I’m worried I won’t want you to go.”

“Well, I don’t plan on going anywhere soon,” he told you firmly, nodding to emphasise it also. “I want to stay here in this world with you.”

“How is it possible though?” you breathed, and Brian shook his head.

“I’m not sure, but can’t we just focus on the fact that you see me and I see you, and this is what we both want?”

“You want to see me?”

“I wasn’t lying when I said you’re more interesting to me.”

You got caught in the moment. Brian’s thumb gently caressed your chin as he held your gaze fondly, searching for his own reason to like you. However, you were long gone. You had created Brian, poured so much love and attention into him that having him stare like this at you made you disregard everything.

Much as last night, you were uncaring of where he came from, or who he was meant to be with. Right now, you wanted to be the only person he ever looked at like this again. He made you feel special, as if you were carved out of the same stone of life and meant to be for one another.

You couldn’t tell who moved in first, whether it was you or Brian, but the angle he now held your jaw at was much closer to his face, ready for his lips to make an impact.

And just as you were certain that he was about to kiss you, the front doorbell rang.

_________________

Part 6

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#kwritersworldnet #young k #young k fiction #young k fanfic #young k fluff #young k romance #young k au #day6 #day6 fiction #day6 fanfic #day6 fluff #day6 romance #day6 au #pwyl; to be continued #kpop fiction #kpop fanfic #kpop fluff #kpop romance

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anoramactir · 4 years ago

Text

when you wish.

i wrote fic! can you believe it? because i can’t, i literally never finish anything. but it’s kana from @speakergame‘s birthday today, and there was a small event in the official server.

i rewrote this like.... eighty times because i couldn’t figure out how to go about it, and eventually i settled on mini fills for each prompt that kind of go together. and then i combined prompts 2 & 3 because i couldn’t figure out 2 individually. the end result is something i’m not entirely pleased with, but whatever. love you, kana! <3

PROMPTS TWO & THREE: candles & music.

The day starts, rather inauspiciously, with the blaring of a fire alarm just after sunrise. Just last year, Kana had slept till noon, wandered into the nearest bakery, & purchased the fluffiest red velvet cupcake they’ve ever had. This year - spent leaning against the kitchen door as Finn swears at the alarm, Cricket barking furiously at her feet - is somehow better. They’ve gone soft, it seems, and Lily will never let them live it down. “Well,” they start, blowing lightly at the yet-smoking pancakes, “I guess I’ve heard worse birthday songs. And the candles are rather creative.”

It’s actually the (generous) truth, but Finn still pouts as she clambers off the counter. “Don’t be mean,” she says, “I was trying to do something nice.” And it was a sweet thought - red velvet pancakes, coffee from Greta’s, a tiny present badly hidden behind the fruit bowl. But the best of intentions can’t change facts, and the fact is Fiona Demir can barely be trusted to boil water. Kana’s not any better themself, admittedly, but at least they can admit their weaknesses.

“It would have been nicer to let me sleep.” Despite the chiding words, there’s only fond laughter in Kana’s voice, and Finn’s ire visibly eases.

“Next year,” she promises. Rising to her tiptoes, she tries to press a kiss to Kana’s cheek. Instead, Kana turns to meet her mouth with their own, and the both of them are smiling by the time they pull apart. “Happy birthday, by the way,” Finn says, slightly out of breath, “I meant to say it first thing, but... like I said, I’ll do better next year.”

It sends a thrill through Kana, the easy way she says it. Next year, as if it’s a given. As if Kana’s place is in Finn’s home, in her bed, in her life, and that will never change. Perhaps that should scare them, after so much uncertainty. Precious few things in their life have proven permanent. It is frightening, a little. But today is their birthday, and they refuse to spend it worrying. “I'll hold you to that,” they tease. “Now- what exactly are we going to do about breakfast?”

Finn eyes the charred remains of her pancakes, apparently judging them inedible. (Thank the gods for that. Kana would have forced them down, but they weren’t looking forward to it.) “The drow next door wanted opinions on her 4th of July menu. How do you feel about taste-testing?”

“Lead the way, sweetheart.”

PROMPT ONE: balloons.

“That is a terrible idea.” It should be a protest, but Lily sounds almost eager, delighted at watching disaster unfold. But in all fairness, none of them have tried to stop Rory. Sebastian seems to think it’d be hopeless, Azalea is too shy, and Kana... Kana has a pretty girl in their lap, and that’s much more interesting than a helium tank and some balloons.

It had been a lovely party, but by now most of the guests have filtered out (their ribs still ache from Ana Leighton’s goodbye hug) and only the usual suspects remain. Kana can see their own contentment reflected on Finn’s face, an easy sort of joy from giving them a good day. They can’t help it. They kiss her. The taste of buttercream icing still lingers in Finn’s mouth, and Kana presses closer without concious thought. The chatter fades into the background, everything hazy and almost dreamlike, and-

POP!

Finn topples to the side, and nearly takes Kana down with her. They just barely catch themselves, blinking dazedly at the bits of plastic raining across the room. “Roderick Kane.”

“It’s not my fault!” But even he doesn’t seem to believe it. There’s no shame on his face, though, just a stifled grin. “Shit, that was the mermaid balloon. Do you think that’s bad luck for you?”

Maggie scoffs. “Don’t be so superstitious,” she says, which seems a tad hypocritical coming from the psychic. "It just means we need to keep you away from anything breakable. Also, you’re cleaning this up.”

Deciding to leave them to it, Kana turns back to Finn. She’s already climbing off the floor, seemingly more amused than anything. Still, they reach out to check. “Sweetheart, are you alright?”

“I’m in unspeakable pain and will need a gorgeous nurse,” she cheerfully replies, which roughly translates into I’m fine, just obnoxious. Kana rolls their eyes, but can’t quite hide a smile. Finn, sensing weakness, pounces. Her puppy dog eyes really are unfairly cute. Cricket can hardly compare.

“Isn’t that Lily’s job? I don’t want to put her out of work.”

Yet Finn is - unsurprisingly - undeterred. “But Bas will be jealous! Besides, the doctor specifically said it had to be a siren.”

It’s a hopeless fight. They give in. Wrapping their hands around Finn’s waist, Kana pulls her back into their lap. “Well,” they muse, “then I guess I have to care for you.” They brush their fingers lightly against Finn’s temple, against the beginnings of a faint bruise.

Something must show in their expression- some dangerous affection, because Finn’s teasing fades into something soft. “You take care of me,” she says quietly, “and I’ll take care of you.”

PROMPT FOUR: gifts.

It’s earlier than Kana usually sleeps, but they’re exhausted all the same. A good sort of exhaustion, though, the kind that only comes from a day spent well. They’re wrapping their hair up, humming idly to themselves, when Finn pads into the room. There’s a wrapped box in her hand, apprehension in her face, and Kana raises an eyebrow in surprise. “You already gave me concert tickets, remember?”

Finn shakes her head as she takes a seat, saying, “Those were from Maggie and me. This is... Maggie agreed to it, but it’s really from me.” At last she hands it over, and Kana tracks the way she fiddles with her bracelet, the way she can’t quite meet their eyes. They could ask, but it’ll be faster to just open the present.

Their breath catches. “...A key?”

“To the house,” she answers, almost before Kana has finished their question. “I know we never lock the door anyway, and you’re already here most of the time, but- it’s symbolic, I guess. I’m asking you to stay.”

Kana hadn’t needed the clarification (there’s only so many ways to interpret a key) but they almost ask Finn to repeat herself, anyway. They’d known they were wanted here, truly. A designated seat at the kitchen table, their name on the chore wheel, their favorite CDs stored in the car. Their welcome has never been in doubt.

‘I’m asking you to stay.’ Somehow, it’s different hearing it out loud.

“I love you.”

It’s not an answer, not really. But from the way Finn beams, maybe it’s as good as. “Good,” she says, “because next year, I’ll probably get you a ring.”

#my writing #fics #are those even my tags. it's been so long #speaker #speaker game #oc: fiona demir #ship: fiona/kana

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coping-via-clint-eastwood · 4 years ago

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What Happens at a Lake - Philo Beddoe x Reader

Requested by @starryfallows

(A/N: THIS IS THE LONGEST FIC I HAVE EVER WRITTEN!!! FOUR AND A HALF THOUSAND WORDS!!!!!! I AM SO PROUD OF MYSELF!!!!!!

All are by @clinteastwood-blog

Yeah sooo I’m posting it here anyway, even though it’s REALLY long. Sorry I couldn’t put the two black and white set photos, because for SOME REASON, Tumblr is telling me that I’ve reached the ten image limit, when there’s ONLY half of that! Seven with those other two! Ugh! Anyway, this is indeed the longest fic I have ever written, and I am honoured and proud that it’s a Clint fic, requested by someone on Tumblr. I love you all.

Update: @believerindaydreams taught me how to put keep reading :D thank you very much 🙏)

It took three months for Philo's bones to heal and get back to full strength. Since his main job as a car repairman really depended on both his arms having their full strength, and his other job as a lorry driver did require some strength to pull the levers in the vehicle, you had been working for twelve hours everyday at the Palomino, where you were a pianist. It was a relief when Orville returned from his nurse one month in, so you could work for just nine hours. You returned to your usual eight hours only when Philo had fully healed. During those three months, Philo and Clyde remained in the audience for you mr twelve hours everyday anyway, and you gladly let them be there - better to listen to your playing than to staying at home and listen to ma pestering him about his idleness.

It was one evening two months after Philo was back in business. Philo, Orville and you were around the dinner table, having almost finished dining. Clyde was off monkeying around somewhere and ma had finished earlier and gone to another part of the house, where she was likely griping to herself again about something or other.

"You know, we haven't done anything to celebrate," you said, looking around at them.

The boys looked at each other in question, confused as to what you were talking about and surprised at this sudden and random vocalisation. They then turned back to you. "Celebrate...?" Philo trailed off, his voice sweet and adorable.

"Your retirement," you said lanconically.

"Only from brawling! I'm still a lorry driver and car repairman!" he argued, leaning towards you slightly.

"Yeah but still. It calls for some celebration." You were still calm, because you knew that Philo was not trying to pick a fight. This was just how he always was.

"Okay...what did you have in mind?" There. He was as relaxed as if nothing had happened.

"We could go to a lake again. One with a cabin that we can rent for an indefinite period of time."

A smile immediately formed on his face. "That sounds great." He turned his head to look back at Orville.

"Yeah," Orville said, nodding, "yeah, we can do that." Philo faced you again.

"Alright! So, when do you guys wanna leave?" you piped up cheerily.

"Well, you're the one who suggested it. You decide," Philo told you.

"Can we leave tomorrow?" Your eyes darted to and from theirs.

"Oh. Sure," Philo answered.

"Cool with me," Orville agreed. You grinned at them.

When Philo and you were alone in your shared bedroom that night, he backed you up against the wall, his hands on either side of your head, the rest of his body blocking any way of escape, almost pressing against yours, and his face very close to yours. You were hyperventilating, yet you could not avert your eyes and resist staring into those gorgeous green gazers. "That was a very good idea of yours." Oh hell - he was deliberately making his voice deeper and more gravelly, the way he knew you liked it. This was something he did when he wanted to be especially affectionate with you. He did not do it during his three months of healing because you always would be too tired for it.

"I-I thought we could use it," you panted, shaking.

He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against yours, feeling the heat radiating from you. "It's agreed," he breathed, and you could feel his breath on your face. You squeaked and squeezed your eyes shut, turning your head away. He chuckled when you squeaked. "What was that?" You whimpered and shook your head vigorously, indicating that you were not going to answer. He smiled and moved a hand to rest it on your warmed cheek, gently pushing your head to face him. His thumb stroked your eyelids until you opened them. When you did, he leant in and kissed you.

When ma saw the three of you loading the truck the next morning, she, as usual, waddled within hearing range and demanded to know where the four of you were going. "A lake, ma," Orville sighed over his shoulder as he threw a bag inside.

"A lake?! What on earth're you goin' ta a lake fo?!" she hollered.

"A vacation, ma," Orville grumbled out before he got inside the seating area and closed the door before he could hear anymore of ma's nagging. You were holding the back doors open while Philo helped Clyde inside.

"WHAT?! A VACATION?! AND LEAVING YOUR OLD MOTHER ALL BY HER LONESOME!!" And so on. Philo and you hurried up with shutting the back doors and getting in yourselves. Philo sped off as soon as he was seated.

"We need a vacation from her," you huffed, relieved, leaning against the window.

"You're telling me," Orville got out as he took off his cap and tiredly rested it on his lap.

"Well at least we're actually away from that now," you comforted him. Philo fiddled with the radio and stopped when he found a station he was happy with.

The ride passed in mutual joy and comfort. The three of you would occasionally crack jokes, and sometimes Clyde would give his input, especially when he was asked to pass a drink or food item in front. This lasted for several hours and a few pit stops on the way.

"All right, I think this is the nearest one," Philo said as he drove through some trees. A little further into them showed that there was a lake stretching in between them, dividing them into two. Philo drove on, and all three of you kept a watch out for a cabin.

There were two, one larger than the other. The larger one was obviously for if there was more than one guest to stay, and so the smaller one was for the lone landlord. Philo drove up to the guests' cabin and parked. The three of you got out then let the orangutan out as well. All four of you walked the rest of the way to the landlord's cabin. Since Philo was the nearest to it, he knocked on the door. "Yeah?" the landlord said when he opened the door.

"We'd uh, like to rent this place for a few days. Don't know how long. We'll let you know when we leave. There are three adults plus," he put a hand on Clyde's shoulder, "an ape."

"Oh..." he observed Clyde, "well, people are allowed to bring their pets here, so long as they clean up after 'em, and I do have a set fee for pets. So that's not gonna be a problem. I'll just come to you and collect rent everyday, so it don't matter how long you stay."

The three of you grinned at each other. "Perfect," Philo informed the landlord. The latter nodded his head politely and closed the door. "Alright!" Philo exclaimed, clasping his hands together, "let's unpack!" And the three humans proceeded to do so. Clyde was left outside to climb trees and do his thing.

Soon enough, all the luggage was unpacked and in your respective rooms. You three were now seated on the couches. There were three of these which surrounded a coffee table, save for one side which had the television against the wall. Philo and you were on one couch and Orville was on the one in the centre. "So, what do you guys wanna do now?" you asked.

"Is the water clean enough to swim in?" Philo mused, turning around and looking in the general direction of the lake.

"We can always find out," Orville suggested playfully.

You laughed, closing your eyes. "I suppose we can just ask the landlord."

It turned out that the water was indeed suitable for swimming. As far as swimwear went, yours was just a t-shirt and shorts. So it was for the boys too, minus the shirt. Since you were the shortest, you waded in first to determine how far out was safe for you. You kept hopping until the water reached just below your chin. The two taller men followed, with Philo going the farthest out and Orville in between you two. Since it was deep enough for you, you let your legs float up so that you were now lying on your back on the water's surface. You let the current carry you out, occasionally moving a limb to change directions. Orville had swum away, which left you a clear path to catch up to Philo, who was also swimming. Once you reached Philo, you moved your legs back down and started treading water. "Hi," you said.

"Hey," he smiled, showing his teeth. He made himself stand and grabbed you, situating your legs around his waist. You put your hands on his shoulders. Smiling at each other, he walked you about. It was a while of this before he started picking up the pace, hopping, and then pushing you away from him altogether. You giggled as you bobbed away, treading water to stay near him. After that, the two of you started swimming properly.

The three of you swam for two hours. Since Orville was all by his lonesome and not staring at a romantic partner, he was the one to notice that his fingers were wrinkled. "Alright, we gotta go," he called out, holding up hand, facing the palm towards you two. All three quickly paddled to shore. Philo's feet touched the bottom first, then Orville's, then yours. Clyde was hanging from the tree that you three would pass by on the way out, looking at you all.

"Hi Clyde," Orville said as he passed.

"Hi Clyde," you followed.

"Hi Clyde," Philo finished.

"Oo oo oo," he returned to all three of you at once.

Orville went into the bathroom in his room to shower. "You wanna go first, or shall I? Or you wanna go at the same time?" Philo asked.

"Same time," you smiled. So the both of you stripped and went into the bathroom in your shared room, impulsively filling up and climbing into the bathtub rather than actually stepping inside the shower. He sat with his back against the wall, so you sat in between his legs without your back to him. He wrapped an arm around your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder. "Thanks for being here with me," he murmured, turnings his head and kissing your cheek. He was always additionally affectionate when he was happy and content.

You smiled brightly and brought an arm up to cradle his head, running your hand through his coarse fluffy hair. "I love you."

"I love you too." His other arm joined the one that was already around you. When he felt that you were about to fall asleep - it happened everytime you were relaxed in his embrace - he hurried up with bathing the both of you.

"Nbuh!" you interjected as your head jerked up, having been shocked to the point of waking.

"Don't sleep in here. We can have dinner and then sleep," Philo lectured, poking your upper arm once for each sentence he spoke. You yawned and stretched, and then cleaned yourself.

The both of you got out. Philo drained the tub while you wrapped a towel around yourself. You passed another to him. You broke out into a toothy grin when you saw him vigorously rubbing it through his fluffy hair. He felt your gaze on him and looked up. "What?"

"Nothing," you kept grinning, "Your hair is amazing."

"O...kay?" He just went back to drying his hair.

You laughed softly before saying, "I love your hair."

"Thank you." You could hear the smile in his voice.

After drying off, you opened the door and headed out. Philo lay down on the bed and smiled at you, lifting the sheets for you to climb under. You laughed softly and crawled to him, and you two snuggled. "You sure we can do this? Orville and Clyde might be waiting on us for dinner."

"Mmf..." he grumbled. He begrudgingly reached his long arm to open the closet and pulled out a pair of boxers and then trousers. He pushed you a little distance away so that he had space to put them on and then threw his feet over the side of the bed onto the floor, the momentum allowing him to spring up. He walked out of the room, and you nestled under the covers and waited.

Orville was at the kitchen counter, preparing dinner. "Oh," he acknowledged with some surprise when he saw Philo walk to him. "I figured you'd be longer, so I got started on dinner. I was gonna call Clyde in when I was done."

"Yeah, I was, but (y/n) reminded me that you might be waitin' on us. So I came out ta check on ya."

"Well you can go on back in there and give her a thank you from me. You can do whatever with her until dinner's ready."

"You sure you don't need any help?" Philo offered.

Orville shook his head and said, "Nah. I can manage."

Philo nodded his head a few times in acknowledgement. "Thanks," he said before turning around and walking away.

"Sure," Orville returned.

You were lying with your fingers interlaced, your head resting on them as you stared up at the ceiling. Your eyes turned to look at Philo when he appeared in the doorway. "Orville says we can stay here till dinner's ready. He can manage," he said as he walked inside. As he walked, he undid his clothes. You scooted further in, so as soon as he put his clothes on the seat of the chair as he passed he could slide in. You took your place right by his side again. He had one arm under your waist. He turned onto his side so that he was a little way on top of you. He reached around and stroked the side of your head with his other hand. You smiled softly up at him. He moved to suspend himself above you on his hands and knees now, his limbs caging you safely. The both of you closed your eyes as he rested his forehead on yours. He pressed his lips forwards slightly, just touching your own and then withdrawing repeatedly, questioning whether he could kiss you. Your breathing became heavier at his teasing, and you put your hands on the back of his head and pushed it down the rest of the way. At the exact same time, you both closed your eyes and let out heavy exhales through your noses as you kissed. He lowered his full weight onto you, doing it slowly so that you had time to adjust and support his weight. "Mmf..." he let out when you kissed him a bit more aggressively. You kept at it, eager and needy, and he let himself take it all in. He withdrew when he needed to breathe, and rested his forehead on yours. Breaths heavy, chests heaving. He rolled back to lie down next to you again. "Was that enough, or do you want more?" he got out between breaths.

"Mmh..." you exhaled heavily, flipping to lie on your side facing away from him, "Too much for now..."

"Alright." You knew he was grinning at you with his teeth exposed. He scooted closer to you and wrapped his arm around your waist. You sighed and closed your eyes as he buried his nose in your hair.

And it was just...this. This sweet, unbroken peace, that the two of you shared, only interrupted when there was rapping at the door and Orville called, "You uh...are you guys...busy?"

"No, Orville. We'll be there soon," Philo called back, still staying as he was holding you.

"A'right." He walked away.

Philo turned you around and gave you one more peck on the lips, holding the sides of your face. "Come on," he smiled, "Let's go have dinner." Smiling as well, you gave a nod of your head, and the both of you got out on opposing sides of the bed and got dressed. Clyde was already sitting next to Orville, and they were eating. Like everytime, Philo sat next to Clyde, and you sat next to him. There was a fifth unoccupied chair between Orville and you. Again, the dining was accompanied by light chatter.

After the dishes were done, Philo opened the door to let Clyde out again, but Clyde clung onto his legs. "Oh...okay," his human acknowledged. He closed the doors and carried Clyde, seating him on one arm. Philo joined you on the couch that was in the middle this time. "What do you guys wanna do now?" he asked, looking past Clyde to the two of you.

You shrugged, "Wanna watch a movie?" Clyde immediately jumped off Philo's lap and onto the couch, banging his fists against his chest and going "Ooh ooh ooh!" The three of you threw your heads back with laughter.

"He wants to watch King Kong!" you laughed.

"I was only three years old when that came out," Philo grinned toothily.

"We- weren't even born yet," you pondered, looking at your lap.

"I'll go get it," Philo said, standing up. You each had brought a selection of movies that might be wanted at any time. King Kong did not conform to this, but there was always a friend to think about. Philo went into the room and came out not long after, holding the casing in his hand. He put the DVD in the reader and let it play. And in the end, it was online Clyde who actually watched the film. The three humans fell asleep early into the film. Philo and you fell asleep, your head on his shoulder and his head on yours, and his arm around your lower back. Orville, who had laid down so that he could prop his head up on the armrest and watch the television, just shifted backwards so that the armrest was comfortably under his neck, and he fell asleep like that, hands resting on his abdomen. Clyde considerately clambered onto the remaining couch to carry out his capers as he happily watched the movie. When it ended, he turned off the television and jumped back onto the third couch to sleep.

The next day saw no less in pleasantness. After a nice breakfast prepared by Philo, the process of which was carried out while Orville was allowed to sleep in, the three of you took to fishing for lunch and dinner. Clyde played in the branches above your heads. The mood was generally lazy and mellow.

And then, it happened. Several fish in, Philo just held up his most recent catch, staring at it. From the corner of his eye, he saw you turn your head to look at him. Before you could say anything, he swung the fish and slapped you square in the face.

"WAH!" was your cry as you slipped and fell into the water.

Orville was laughing so hard that no sound was emitted from him. Philo was just staring down at you, tittering to himself. He still had a hold on the fish. Your head broke the surface, along with your spluttering and spitting. In return, you spewed a steady stream of water at him, standing up so that you could reach his face. "Hey, wha-" he vocalised, turning his face away and putting his hands out to stop the water from reaching his face, dropping the fish in the process. You quickly picked up the fish, the poor thing which had died due to shock upon impact, and sent him down. Orville was wheezing by now. The two of you played like this for some time, with Orville, and Clyde, who came to join him, laughing away.

Philo had to bear the task of preparing dinner after he showered, because he was the one who was not tired. You were tired out from playing with him so energetically, and Orville was lying on his bed, making his belly ache worse as he kept on wheezing. Even as he was showering he had had difficulty breathing. As for Philo, he was as miraculously tireless as ever. You did not know how he did it. He was amazing. You yourself had taken the precaution of showering instead of bathing this time, so that you did not fall asleep with the warm water submerging you. After putting on warm clothing, you were facedown on your shared bed, spread eagle with your nose buried in the sheets. Now you could safely doze of. It was justified as well that you were not too deep asleep, for it seemed all too soon when you felt a loving hand on your shoulder shaking you awake. You got up and followed him to the table. You ate your food quickly so that you could go back to sleep as soon as possible. Philo had a loving hand stroking up and down your back the entire time you were within his arm's reach. When he saw you were almost finished, he murmured from behind a spoonful that you could leave your cutlery as it was and he would take care of it. As he was speaking, you had finished and sprung to your feet, wanting to use your last bit of energy to propel you to the place where you did not need to consciously use energy. But when you heard what he said, you stepped over to him and gave him a long hug, bending down and closing your eyes. He closed his eyes and held you too. You stood like that for a while, until you gently pushed him to look up at you. He looked at you with those searching eyes, his gaze gentle and yet held so much power over you.

But it only lasted for a moment, because you closed your eyes and kissed him. He reciprocated, sweetly and meaningfully. When oxygen was needed, you pulled back and rested your forehead against his, breathing deeply. "Go to sleep, sweetheart," he murmured, stroking your hair. You gave him one last smile and a peck on the nose before moving fully away. You went and brushed your teeth, and then just collapsed on the bed, not caring how you slept. But later on, you found out that Philo had moved you into a more comfortable position, because when you woke up the next morning, you found yourself securely held by him, right by his side like always.

That day itself was also to be one of perfect happiness. The three of you were fishing again. It was just the four you and the fish. Nobody was paying attention to anything that was going on in the world.

An unexpected, yet not unwelcome voice called out, "Room for one more?"

"JACK!" you exclaimed, dropping your fishing rod and running to him. He was about to say something, but you pounced on him and hugged him. You loved giving hugs, whether it was to Philo, Clyde, Orville, or any other good friend. And Philo encouraged the good sportsmanship.

Jack was laughing as he held onto you. "Hey. Didn't know you'd be that excited to see me."

"We missed you when we parted," you confessed, stepping back to look at him, your hands on his shoulders. You made way for Philo.

"Hey," your boyfriend greeted. The fighters clasped hands. "What're you doing here?" he asked.

"Am done fighting for a few weeks. Thought I'd look for you. Went to your place, ran into a senile old woman, barely understood that you were at a lake. Had to go on a bit of a hunt. But, here I am."

"Yeah...sorry about my mother..." Orville said forlornly.

"Oh, that's all right. I'm just glad to be here," Jack said as he and Orville shook hands.

"So, are you staying?" Philo asked him.

"Only if I'm permitted," he smiled. Before any of you could say anything, a hairy figure dropped down from the branch above Jack and hugged him. Jack held him up as easily as the rest of you did. "Okay. Now you can move in," Philo smiled.

"Great. I'll go get my stuff." He turned on his heel and walked off, presumably to his car.

"You two continue fishing. I'll give him a tour," Philo said, going to pick up his fishing rod and lean it against a tree.

"Okay," you acknowledged. So Orville and you picked up your fishing rods too, but you actually used them.

After Philo showed Jack his room among other things, they came back out. It seemed that the fighters had decided on something as they were talking, because they were indeed dressed for fighting. Philo was wearing a white shirt- not the one that had been torn, and a pair of jeans. Jack was in his light blue tank top and slacks. "Thought you said you were retired, Philo!" you teased.

"Yeah well," he smirked, looking at Jack and flexing his fist which he was already holding up, "nothing like catching up with a noble opponent."

"Thank you," Jack smiled, getting into a boxing stance and holding his fists up in front of him as well. They started bouncing on their feet, bobbing from side to side, and circling each other.

"Just don't break anything," you reminded them.

As always, Philo waited for his opponent to throw the first punch. He did, and that commenced the fighting. They fought without even coming close and accidentally harming Orville and you. You two caught more fish than usual, since Philo was. not fishing, and there was one more person to feed.

There was enough fish to last five people until dinner. Lunch for five had already been prepared. And the fighters were still going! The three other people stood in the doorway and watched. And finally, finally, Philo knocked Jack back against a vertical beam supporting the roof of the porch. They were drenched in sweat, heaving deep breaths. "You wanna..." Philo stopped to pant here, "stop here?"

Jack nodded, and caught his breath to give a, "Yeah." This was how it almost had been six months ago. The five of you went inside. Now the once unoccupied chair has a purpose. The tired gentlemen sank heavily onto the chairs. Orville and you got to setting the table, and Clyde opened the refrigerator and took out two cans of beer. He brought them over to Philo and Jack. "Thanks," Philo said as he took his. Jack petted his head.

After a slow, refreshing lunch, the five of you were just sprawled out on the couches. "So, you lift engine blocks," Jack spoke, "How'd you get the strength in the first place?"

"Well, I did start out by lifting lighter weights. I do do other strength work from time to time too."

"Like what?"

"Oh, pumping. I have (y/n) or Clyde on my back while I do it. Makes me push myself more."

"I gotta try that," Jack grinned. With that, he dropped down to his hands and toes. "Come on. Get down. And get Clyde or (y/n) on your back."

"Oh, I get my girl," Philo turned his head to grin at you from the floor. "Clyde." He used his head to motion to Jack. You each got on your respective sports man. You carefully lay on Philo's back, putting your hands on his shoulders and situating your toes on his calves. Orville just watched and but his lip, bemused at such a wholesome situation.

Later that night, you went into the kitchen to get yourself something light to eat and drink. Philo followed you. You were against the counter, and turned around only to come face-to chest with him. “Hey,” he said softly, smiling. You greeted him the exact same way. He leant in and kissed you, your arms wrapping around each other. He backed you up against the counter, so that you were halfway sitting on it. He lifted you up and seated you on the counter fully, then stepping forwards and pushing you to him so that your legs wrapped around his waist. You giggled into the kiss, making him do so too.

#Philo Beddoe #every which way but loose #any which way you can #clint eastwood #c-v-c-e fic

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sithsecrets · 5 years ago

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A Matter of Expediency - Part XII

After being married off to Kylo Ren in the name of securing an heir to the First Order’s throne, a princess tries to navigate the ins and outs of married life. As she grows closer to her new husband, the princess also carves out a place for herself in the Order, assuming control over her life when she thought she would have none.

---

Part 12

4k words

Mentions: allusions to past/possible abuse, swearing, sad themes about pregnancy

---

Final preparations for your charity gala are done in the snow, puffy white flakes falling from an overcast sky as servants bustle about the Palgoduan castle. You oversee some of the goings-on, a bit tired from your fitful night’s sleep. Kylo is elsewhere, preoccupied with some Order business of a different sort, and you cannot help but feel a bit thankful. Though you’re in better spirits today, sadness lingers at your core, and the last thing you need right now is Kylo asking you if everything’s alright.

Queen Eleanor is by your side for most of the morning, holding her pregnant stomach as the two of you walk about together. She is so sweet, this Queen of Palgodu, but you still feel a pang of jealousy each time you lay eyes on her, on her children and her body. You ty very hard to do as Miriam told you, to not dwell on your empty, fruitless womb, but that’s easier said than done.

At midday, the Queen declares that she is practically starving to death, and she very graciously invites you to take lunch with her and the children. Your first impulse is to decline the invitation, your raw heart wanting nothing more than to avoid sad reminders of all that you do not have, but you force yourself to accept anyway. It wouldn’t do to appear rude, and this childish little self-pity party must come to an end sometime.

You eat in a small, informal dining room in the company of Princess Maudie, baby Eli, and the children’s nurse, Mya. The meal you’re served is rich and heavy, lots of hearty meats, cheeses, and winter vegetables. Queen Eleanor practically inhales a slab of red meat all on her own, eating ravenously in a way that makes you believe that she really was starving.

Princess Maudie takes great interest you as lunch carries on, regarding you curiously as she munches on bits of shredded meat and little slices of fruit.

“Who are you?” the little girl asks after a while, head cocked to one side as she stares you down from across the table.

“Maudie, we talked about this,” her mother chides. “This is the Empress of the galaxy.”

“You met her yesterday, darling,” Mya adds.

Maudie seems perplexed by this revelation, though she moves past it quickly. Her next inquiry centers around why you’re here, asking next where you live after you tell her about your charity work. After serval minutes of intense grilling, Queen Eleanor and Mya tell Maudie that that’s enough.

“Nonsense,” you declare, amused by the little girl’s line of questioning. She’s quite intrigued by the fact that you live on a ship in space all the time, and she wants to meet Kylo again since she, quote, “forgot about him, too.”

You’re in better spirits when you retreat back to your chambers, but rather tired. A nap would do you good before the party, you think, so you draw the curtains and climb into bed. Sleep comes easily, and it’s some time before you wake again.

The room is no different when you open your eyes, sunlight still trying in vain to seep in through the thick curtains you shut tight. Everything is dim and dark, just as it should be, but you’re no longer alone as you were when you lied down.

“Good afternoon,” Kylo murmurs, the pad of his thumb soft and warm on your cheek.

Snuggling against your husband’s touch, you give him a sleepy, loose smile. “It certainly is now.”

---

The merrymaking is well underway by sunset, everyone drinking and dancing and chattering happily as if none of you have a care in the world. Many important officials from around the galaxy are strewn about the room, your cause’s most generous benefactor by far. Others are around as well, of course, lesser nobles from Palgodu, a few choice friends. To your utter joy, Lydia, Helda, and Joon could all make it tonight, and you’re practically vibrating at the thought of seeing them again. Comm correspondence just isn’t the same, and you can’t wait to hear all about what’s been going on in their lives in person.

You and Kylo’s arrival is met with thunderous applause, though you’re thankful that you don’t have to formally receive any guests the way you did at your wedding reception. Nonetheless, you do a fair bit of schmoozing out on the floor, greeting ambassadors and generous benefactors alike as Kylo accompanies you. He’s quiet, letting you do all the talking, but the adoration in his eyes is not lost on you every time you look his way.

Joon finds you first, mercifully saving both you and your husband from a rather droll conversation with a couple of diplomats. Her approach is slow and deliberate, though smile on her face is wide.

“I was going to just run up and hug you,” Joon says, fitting the both of you together in an embrace, “but Nobi said that two Praetorian Reds would probably cave my head in before I could explain myself.”

You can’t help but laugh at that, squeezing your friend soundly. Even Kylo cracks a little smile, though it seems he doesn’t know quite how to act naturally in this situation.

Joon has much to tell you, talking your ear off as she whisks you away from the party’s main staging area. To your utter joy, Helda and Lydia are waiting for you off to the side, nursing drinks and talking idly until they see you approach. Their embraces are painfully and spectacularly familiar, warm in the way that true friendship should make one feel. Stars, you think you might cry as you look upon their faces, upon Lydia’s dark eyes and Helda’s red curls.

Poor Kylo is nothing more than an afterthought for a few minutes as you and Joon and Helda and Lydia all make over one another, chittering like birds and grinning like happy children. Only when he gently grasps your wrist do you remember yourself.

“I’m going to speak with Hux, darling,” Kylo tells you, bending down to press a kiss to your cheek. You feel bad then, expression melting into something apologetic and you twine your fingers together.

“I’m sorry,” you say, “you really don’t have to go.”

Unbothered, Kylo shakes his head. “I want you to speak freely with your friends. Find me in while, please.”

And with one last kiss on your face, your husband turns on his heel to leave, striding off in a dark swirl of cloak. You can feel eyes on your before you so much as turn back to face your friends, all of them no doubt about to tease you mercilessly.

“So that’s the galaxy’s biggest tyrant?” Joon muses, one eyebrow cocked. Helda’s grin is as sly as she can muster, and even Lydia seems pleasantly intrigued for once in her life.

“He’s not so bad,” you murmur, glancing over your shoulder at the back of Kylo’s retreating head.

“We’re glad to see that,” Lydia declares, the look in her eyes uncharacteristically soft.

There’s no more talk of Kylo after that, or of men in general, for the four of go out onto the dancefloor together. It’s just like old times again, you and your friends spinning and jumping and holding hands in time to the music, wisps of hair clinging to your flushed faces. And though it’s all great fun, you tire of the activity after a while, thirsty and a bit too sweaty for your liking under the thick fabric of your gown.

Helda and Joon split off from you and Lydia, both going in separate directions. It’s grown a bit late, Helda’s mother beckoning her away, Joon’s boyfriend missing her by his side. Lydia and yourself grab something refreshing to drink and head outside, warm despite the chill in the air. Neither of you says anything for a while, simply sipping out of your respective cups as the two of you take in the night.

You turn your gaze Lydia’s way, studying her face, the set of her shoulders. There’s something lighter about her, something… peaceful. As long as you’ve known Lydia, you’ve seen her happy or content, but at peace? Never, not once. It looks beautiful on her, truly.

“What’s happened to you?” you ask, words coming out of your mouth along with an icy puff of air.

Lydia turns to you, eyebrows narrowed, her own breath fogging before her face in the darkness. “What do you mean?”

“You seem different,” you explain, “like all the weight’s fallen off your heart.”

Lydia rolls her eyes at that bit of poetry, but the smile that creeps over her face is rather telling.

“I’m… I’m with someone now.”

A noise of surprise escapes your lips, uncontainable as a bolt of unbridled excitement shocks your chest. Lydia shies away from your exclamation, but you won’t let her off that easily.

“Who is he?” you demand, grabbing her arms now. “Where is he from? What does he do?”

“His name is Jacob, he’s from our planet, and he owns a manufacturing facility,” Lydia tells you, answering all of your questions in one go. “We met a couple of months ago at a harvest party in the country.”

“’Months,’” you breathe, though you can’t bring yourself to be angry at Lydia for not telling you about all of this until now. She’s so guarded, always has been— you’d be a fool for expecting anything less.

“I know,” Lydia concedes, speaking quietly. Some of the light in her eyes flickers for just a moment, jarring you from your euphoric state. “I wanted to be sure it would be different this time.”

You cup Lydia’s cheek then, willing her to stop thinking of that vile man you’re sure she’s seeing in her mind.

“Is he good to you?” you ask, because that’s all you care about. “I mean really good to you.”

And, as if someone flicked a switch, that soft, soft light is glowing in Lydia’s eyes again.

“Jacob is kind,” she tells you, “with his words and with his hands.”

You can’t help the tears that slip down your cheeks, hot reminders of how truly happy you are for this friend of yours. For Lydia, who deserves all of this and so much more.

“Well that’s good,” you begin, swiping at your cheeks, “because if he wasn’t, I’d have to have him executed.”

Lydia lets out a little laugh then, a real one, not one of the humorless barks that you’re much more accustomed to hearing. “I assure you he has no reason to tremble at your feet, Empress.”

It’s a jab, the emphasis Lydia puts on your title, but a playful one. You shove her for it still, rolling your eyes.

“If I remember correctly, you told me you’d help me become a runaway bride at my wedding reception, Lydia.”

The both of you break down into chuckles then, laughing at yourselves and at each other. And though it’s cold, though the wind is biting at your back through your bodice, you feel so very warm, wrapped in the company of an old friend.

“So when do I get to meet this Jacob?” you ask, locking arms with Lydia as the two of you retreat back into the warmth of the party. Your friend shrugs, as practical as ever.

“Well, if you’re willing to endure Princess Mila’s wedding—”

Your whole body shudders to a stop, your feet nearly tangling in your skirts as you take in that particular combination of words.

“Mila’s what?”

Lydia balks beside you, obviously taken aback by your surprise. “You didn’t know? Mila’s due to marry in a month. Your uncle arranged it, I’m sure, some nonsense about making mineral alliances. I can’t believe no one told you. Rumor has it that you and the Supreme Leader were to be invited.”

You’re not sure about all of that, given how you left things with your uncle and his children the night before your wedding, but the news itself is still… discomforting. Mila hasn’t shown you an ounce of kindness in years, but you know good and well what her father’s capable of. Stars, he sold you off without so much as a second thought, not caring what became of you once you were sent to live with Kylo. Everything worked out in your favor, but how were you, or him, or anybody else for that matter supposed to know that? Besides, you don’t think your uncle could get so lucky twice.

Lydia submits to a virtual interrogation right there in the middle of the party, giving up the name of Mila’s betrothed, the exact date of her wedding, and a few other pieces of information that are more gossip than confirmed fact. Apparently, most of the maids and the concubines are saying that your uncle’s selling Mila off to pay some of his gambling debts, the matter made even more sickening by the fact that her future husband is nearly as old as your uncle himself. The mere of idea of this makes your blood boil, for your marriage to Kylo bagged him similar benefits just earlier this year. And, to your horror, the man’s raised taxes on his people yet again without explanation.

Knowing your uncle, he’s taking every single credit and putting it right back on the card table. You knew he was a man who liked to have a good time, but fuck…

“I have to go speak to my husband,” you tell Lydia, pulling her into a quick hug before you start walking off. “Thank you, Lydia, really.”

Kylo is thrilled to see you, tucking you against his side with one strong arm as the officers around him bow. While the affection does make your heart bubble a bit, the anxiety you feel is much more pressing.

“May I speak with you?” you ask Kylo, praying that he senses your urgency.

Your husband takes you away at once, guiding you through the castle and back to your shared chambers without so much as a word of question. He listens intently as you tell him everything, rambling about Mila and your uncle and how the taxes on your planet’s people were already astronomically high to begin with.

“Do you have proof that he’s using the taxpayers’ credits to fund his lifestyle?” Kylo asks, coming to help you with the zipper on your dress. You shake your head as you slip your arms out of the sleeves, rushing to throw on something comfortable and warm.

“No,” you concede, “but I know how he is. When I came to live with him, I always wondered how he afforded the parties, and the women, and everything else that he fills his free time with. And it worries me that my uncle’s already angling to having his debts paid off again, especially at the expense of shipping Mila off to be with a man that he could have gone to school with. She’s supposed to be finishing her education, not helping him get out from under a bad habit.”

Kylo nods at that, though the look in his eyes expresses reservation. “My love,” he begins slowly, “why… why do you want to help your cousin? From what you’ve told me, she’s been awful to you all your life, and I certainly didn’t like what I saw of her at our rehearsal dinner.”

It’s a good question, and a hard one to answer at that. Kylo lets you think for a moment, pulling together some night clothes to wear to bed in the meantime.

“I want to help her because… because my uncle won’t live forever, and it’s not like he’s doing a good job of ruling as it is. My uncle may be impulsive, but he’s not stupid. Sebastian couldn’t pour water out of a boot if the instructions were on the heel, and Tensin is no better. Mila, though… Mila is cruel, but her wit is sharp. Without her working behind her brothers, the planet’s fucked.”

You pause for a minute, a bit irritated by your more sentimental feelings now.

“And, as a woman, I can’t send her off to marry that man. He’s old enough to be her father, and you know how all of those Valderan mineral barons are. I worry about what would become of her, what he would make her do…” You picture Lydia’s sad eyes, and something in your chest clenches. “Mila may be awful, but I can’t sell her out like that, not for my uncle’s bullshit. I remember how afraid I was when we got engaged, how much I feared not being able to please you.”

Kylo’s hand is warm on your face, the back of his fingers stroking over the curve of your cheek. You press into the touch, taking his hand in both of your own.

“But of course, all of my worrying was for naught because you’re more loving and gentle than I could have ever imagined. You respect me, and you want me to be happy, but I have a feeling that that’s not how Mila’s husband will feel.”

“If you think something must be done, then by all means, step in. I’ll have a ship prepared for you tomorrow at once.”

The both of you go to get in bed, more to relax than to lie down the night.

“No,” you say, waving Kylo off, “let me do some digging first. I want to be sure I’m right before I go off and make a big fuss at home.”

---

You’re back on the Supremacy by late afternoon, anxious to get to the bottom of all of this. Hux, ever the good friend, briefs the Board of Charitable Affairs for you, allowing you time to hole up in your office for most of the day.

You pore over financial documents, intel from First Order informants, and numerous reports, looking for discrepancies or abnormalities in your home planets spending and accounts. It’s no surprise to find that your uncle’s run up a long list of expenses, many of which are listed as “miscellaneous” or “personal”— or, to the layperson, stimulants and whores. However, no one’s cooking the books. It appears as though every credit is accounted for, every tax dollar where it should be— the money’s just being spent like it’s in the hands of a child. With everything correct (in an extremely technical sense) on your uncle’s end, you move on to Mila’s fiancé, a nagging feeling in your gut telling you that he warrants investigation.

Tarlak Tu’Iuni is middle-aged, decent-looking, and filthily, disgustingly rich. Mineral money, naturally, seeing that he was born and raised on Valdera. He’s never been married before Mila, but he has a couple of illegitimate daughters that he seems to care for in some capacity. However, Tarlak’s personal life matters little to you. It’s always the money with the mineral barons; they can be perfectly good people in their personal lives— real upstanding citizens, even— but they just cannot keep their accounts straight to save their lives. They always want a little extra, they’re always moving money around… Lets just say that paying taxes and being frugal are two things that do not come easily to the Vaderan elite.

But, well— you’re the Empress of the Known Galaxy. For every slick accountant a mineral baron like Tarlak Tu’Iuni has in his corner, you have five even slicker financial investigators in yours.

Your team comes to you with a report in a matter of hours, and you nearly fall down when you learn of their findings.

“You’re absolutely sure?” you ask the woman before you, clutching onto the datapad in your hands for dear life.

“We triple checked all of the transactions. These people are good, I must admit,” she affirms, shaking her. “This is the sort of fraud you have to really look for. I’m not surprised we weren’t tipped off until you made us start looking for inconsistencies.”

You blow out a huge breath, anxious and enraged all at once as you scroll through the numbers. Your companion’s right— even laid out plainly this way, most it seems legit.

“Would you like me to contact the Guard?”

“No,” you tell the woman, though you’re grateful for her loyalty and sense of urgency. “Tell no one of this. I’ll handle it.”

“Yes, Empress.”

And then you and your bearer of bad news are going your separate ways, she to brief the team on your wishes and you to find your husband.

It’s later than you’d realized, the intensity of your work sapping away time with little effort. The ship’s night cycle is well underway, guard shifts down to barebones personnel, most corridors empty and quiet.

Kylo is with his nights, just as you suspected, the lot of them stowed away in a dark corner of the ship that they like to frequent. Each one rises to their feet upon seeing you, the Knights bowing in respect as your husband comes to greet you.

“She’s been skimming off of the charity accounts,” you declare, holding out the datapad for Kylo to take before he can so much as say hello. “Her and all her fucking friends on Valdera. Mila’s fiancé is going to essentially paying off my uncle’s debts with money he and Chairwoman Evan stole from the Palgoduan donations and a couple of lesser projects in the Outer Rim. Millions of fucking credits, Kylo! Millions! And that’s just recently!”

You don’t mean to shout, but rage is hot in your veins now. Kylo looks horrified and bewildered all at the same time, scrolling through the information you’ve given him quickly. Not two seconds later, the air seems to crackle all around you, lights flickering under the influence of Kylo’s powers.

“Is your uncle in on this?” he asks you, eyes dark and wild as he regards you. The Knights stand at attention now, waiting for orders, waiting to be sent off for an attack.

“No,” you scoff, waving your hand flippantly. “They’d be stupid to involve someone like him in this. This is inside shit, crime committed amongst a tight-knit group of intelligent people. I wasn’t even looking for something like this, my team found it when I had them doublecheck Tarlak’s accounts.”

“It’s a good thing you did,” Kylo says, trying to stay calm even though you know an outburst is bubbling up inside him. His fist is tight at his side, shoulders tense and taunt. And the energy in the room… You’re just grateful he isn’t angry at you.

Finally, your husband hands the datapad back.

“We’ll deal with this issue at once,” he declares, and the Knights are ready to follow him out of the room without so much as a cue, the lot of them already grabbing for weapons and tools of destruction.

“Kylo,” you cut, stepping into his path. “Kylo, my love, let’s talk about this first.”

“That bitch stole money from the Order,” he spits, murder in his eyes. “All of those credits are for food, and medicine, and schools—”

“I know that, my love,” you soothe, though a fresh wave of rage does sweep through your insides at the notion of one of your subjects going hungry so that Evan and her cronies can play another hand of cards. “But we have an opportunity to make a statement here. Gutting Evan in her quarters may be satisfying now, but why not put let everyone else see what happens when they try to steal from the Order? Why not show the galaxy that we’re in control, that no one can just get away with things like this?”

Kylo draws in a shaky breath.

“I will have the offenders arrested at once. They shall be executed on a live broadcast tomorrow afternoon.”

You nod at that, satisfied with the statement. Still, you know your husband well.

“Well,” you begin, smoothing down the front of his shirt, pulling a few pieces of hair out of his face, “I never said all of them had to be executed publicly— just the important ones.”

Kylo’s hands come to rest on your hips, his grip tight on your body. Feigning innocence, you begin caressing his cheek in lazy, slow strokes.

“I also think it would be wise if we got a few of the main players to confess. You know, just so no one thinks we’re making this up. I’m sure you and the Knights could handle that, right, darling?”

#kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren fanfiction #star wars #star wars fanfiction #ame #my writing

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unbottledchaos · 4 years ago

Text

The Greater Good | Ch. 7

Worlds Collide

CW: using sex to numb, cheating (kinda?)

Previous chapter: x

Ao3

Day after day, night after night, week after week.

Juniper sat awake once again, contemplating what she could do to get her sister back, to free her. Every day, she felt guilty for her own freedom, for any ounce of joy she felt in a day. Was Ciri happy? Was she sleeping? How could she appreciate anything in her life when she constantly felt like she should be doing more to get to Ciri? How could she do more?

She had done so much already; her plan was coming to fruition. The next step was to just do it, to pull the trigger. Juniper had spent the last four years studying Nilfgaard’s tactics, their technology. She looked for any weak spots and had found several. She made connections to an inside source. She had been ready to lead the revolution alone, but then she had found other mages—a whole city of them. Myanmag.

Juniper had integrated easily; they were always welcoming mages for obvious reasons. She had gotten to the secret town of Myanmag through sheer luck, through fate. She had been travelling everywhere, trying to find someone, anyone. In her heart she knew that there were other mages in the world, and she was right. She had been in Blaviken and had nearly been the victim of a Bruxa when she happened to encounter another mage. She didn’t remember much after the attack but remembered waking up in Myanmag. She had been rescued by Triss Merigold.

“Juniper,” Triss said sleepily, sitting up in Juniper’s bed. She was holding the black silk sheets up to her chest. “Why don’t you come back to bed?”

Juniper took a sip of her drink; she had been nursing the deep amber liquid for the past few hours. It burned on the way down, but she welcomed the warmth. She stood up from the sofa where she had been sitting in front of the fireplace that sat in the middle of her room, her sheer robe falling down, cascading to her bare feet. Underneath, she wore nothing but the tattoos that covered her arms and one of her thighs and the moonstone jewelry that hadn’t told her that her loved ones were nearby in years. She sat on the edge of her bed; it could fit nearly ten other people which she knew from experience. Admiring the way the warm glow of the fire highlighted Triss’s brown skin and her freckles, Juniper twirled her curly hair around her finger and patted it back into place behind her ear, smiling as she did. Triss held her hand to her face, shutting her eyes and smiling.

“I will,” Juniper said quietly. “I’ll meet you in your dreams soon.” Triss laid back in bed, the plump pillow forming perfectly around her head. It took hardly anytime at all for her to fall back asleep. Juniper found herself envious at the ease of which she could sleep.

Juniper exited the room quietly, taking her drink with her. Softly, she padded down the corridors, running her fingertips along the rough brick walls. Every once in a while, she could hear laughter from behind the doors of those who chose not to sleep, or she could hear others getting up to no good. Juniper had her fair share of late-night escapades through the years. She had been with so many men and women or whomever she found attractive that night, that she stopped bothering to keep count—not that it mattered. It had been fun until she realized it was her only way to feel something other than the intense helplessness she felt trying to get to her sister. If she wasn’t sleeping she might as well be trying to feel something in the easiest way she could.

Alone, she could not take on Nilfgaard, but with the other mages, she could. The mages of Myanmag were strong, and most importantly they were ready.

The greater good could finally win.

Bathed in moonlight, Juniper leaned against the stone arches that overlooked the garden, her garden. She looked to the night sky which used to bring her comfort, but now it made her feel so small and so alone. Her thoughts were interrupted by sharp and fast whispers.

“How did they find us?”

“I have no idea, but he’s a Witcher. We can trust him. I know him.”

Juniper dropped her drink and the whispers stopped as the glass shattered at her feet, piercing through the otherwise quiet and still night. The two who had been engaged in conversation turned to where Juniper stood.

“Who’s there?” One called out. Juniper stepped forward, avoiding the glass.

“Oh, it’s you, June.” Coral said, relieved.

“Did you say a Witcher is here?” Juniper asked, feeling like it wasn’t her voice asking the question. It didn’t sound real to her.

“Yes,” Mousesack explained. “He and another arrived just now. Unexpectedly as I’m sure you heard.”

“Where are they?” She asked. Coral and Mousesack exchanged a glance.

“He’s been asking for you.” Mousesack said quietly after a moment. Juniper instinctively reached up and touched her necklace, she wondered why it hadn’t been working. Was it him? It must be him. Had the magic worn off?

Without having to ask, they began walking. They stopped at the top of the stairs overlooking the grand foyer. The walls were cloaked in curtains of champagne silk and gold tulle, the stairs a strong white marble. Juniper thought she was in heaven when she first arrived.

Before he even turned around, the sight of Jaskier’s delighted expression told her what she needed to know. The sight of Jaskier alone made her giddy, anticipation turned in her stomach. She instantly recognized the white hair tied at the nape of the strong neck of Jaskier’s towering companion. Jaskier reached out and pulled at the shirt sleeve at Geralt’s elbow excitedly and he turned to follow his gaze, his eyes crawling up the staircase to where Juniper stood. He was breathless, he felt weak like he could drop to his knees. To him, she looked like an angel, the curves of her body disguised by the sheerest fabric that made her look like she was glowing. Her honey hair fell over her shoulder, it could easily be mistaken for gold. But her dark brown eyes did not match her angelic appearance. No, they were rather of someone who hadn’t slept, who had been constantly let down time and time again.

“It’s you,” she said to herself, a smile breaking on her face as she descended the grand staircase. She threw her arms around the pair as best she could in a warm embrace. Jaskier kissed both of her rosy cheeks.

“Might I say, Junie,” he started. “I am absolutely delighted to see you. And all of you, I might add.” He said, indicating her sheer gown. She became distinctly aware of her own body and wished she had changed before leaving her room, but then again, she had hardly expected the reunion or to encounter anyone at all. She could feel Geralt’s eyes on her but couldn’t bring herself to make eye contact knowing full well she wasn’t ready for all of the memories, the feelings to come flooding back.

“What’s going on?”

Juniper turned to find Triss standing behind her, still sleepy. Triss reached for Juniper’s hand and intertwined their fingers together, giving her hand a squeeze.

“I thought you were coming back to bed?” She questioned Juniper. “I came looking for you when you hadn’t.”

“Sorry,” Juniper said quietly. She couldn’t help but think that Triss looked furiously adorable while sleepy. “I was out for some fresh air when I heard the news of our guests’ arrival.” Triss nodded in acknowledgement and smiled sheepishly to Geralt and Jaskier. Juniper knew that Triss knew exactly who they were. Triss knew everything and her stomach sank knowing what Geralt’s arrival meant.

Jaskier cleared his throat, eyes wide as he looked at Geralt incredulously. “Well,” he said, slapping his thighs. “June, it seems you have a lot to catch us up on.”

Juniper felt her neck grow hot as she flushed. Finally, she looked at Geralt who looked away quickly. She couldn’t quite put her finger on the emotion that momentarily flashed across his face but she recognized it as being something close to what she had been feeling for years—longing.

“But first,” Jaskier continued. “I’m starved to death.”

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

With a full belly, Juniper laid on her back with her arms and legs outstretched in her bed. Between her fingertips, she fiddled with a blanket. She blew out a sigh in frustration. All the emotions rumbling inside her made her feel as if she would burst.

For a third time that evening, her thoughts and musings were interrupted by a knock at the door. She pulled herself out of bed and made the long journey to her doorway as she wondered who it could be. It was long past the time of night—now early morning—where she could reasonably get some sleep, so she had decided that she would stay awake like she did most other nights; not that her mind would let her sleep.

She opened the door to find no one there. She took a step out into the corridor and saw Geralt’s back, walking away, his shoulders pinched underneath his black shirt. She contemplated letting him leave but knew that she couldn’t.

“Geralt?” She called. He turned around; his shoulders visibly relaxing as he turned around. She welcomed him to her room, and they walked towards her sofa, sitting down on opposite ends. The distance between them couldn’t have felt more vast.

They didn’t speak, he didn’t even look at her.

Juniper felt brave. She scooted closer to him and took his hand as he looked to her. As she looked into his amber eyes, it felt as if no time had passed at all. She reached out and cradled his face, stroking his cheek with her thumb and he leaned into her hand with closed eyes and a pained expression.

“You found me,” she said quietly.

“June,” he whispered, and with that, he scooped her into his arms and buried his face into her neck, breathing her in—lavender and pine. Juniper wrapped her arms around his neck and shut her eyes.

“I never stopped looking,” he said into the nape of her neck.

The feeling of being so close, so connected felt more real than whatever she had been feeling for the past four years. Suddenly she felt whole again, the missing part of her was found. Because after all, they would always be together no matter how far apart.

#witcher fic #geralt x ofc #triss x ofc #geralt #jaskier #the witcher #witcher #the greater good #triss merigold #soft geralt

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autorepliicant · 4 years ago

Note

“everything i love always has the tendency to be taken away from me.”

It has been one of the rather rare spots of the pair, as the two remained outside for the balcony of Simon's apartment for quite some time already. Usually, they found each other on the couch, as the android would carry out the almost daily routine of easing the mind of the brunette male, each day he'd visit Simon or decided to stay for a longer time, which fueled the PL600's mind with utmost joy - until he'd come to realization that the two grew closer to each other than merely a nurse and a patient, as the men met each other under such odd circumstances. Lucas returned, sometimes with a new wound that would make just another excellent addition to his collection of older and fresher scars on his body, sometimes worse than that, only for Simon to stitch the older one back to health until he'd leave as spontaneously as he'd come back again. Something mutual began to grow, the mutual feeling soon outranked by something more closer than that; a warm embered heart of affection thet would cause every flame vanish to nonentity.

He first wanted to decline the gesture, as Simon offered his guest one of his jackets for the cooler temperatures outside, but there would be no long arguing if someone was just as stubborn as the other one, in a positive sense, daresay. How often Lucas proclaimed his himself being Fine, that everything about him shouldn't be concerned - Simon grew accustomed to it, but never believed these words, quite for the obvious reason. He never was looking for arguments against the words of the other man, as Simon already realized what the Brit's mindset might be, even if not fully knowing the reasons behind it, but at the same time not really demanding any explanation. He wanted to let Lucas know that he cared, not by words only, but in acts of kindness, caring for him, cooking for him if he was in need of a meal or simply sitting together by the couch or the kitchen table with each one's beverage in their hands to simply hold a conversation, it didn't matter what kind of. Simon's comfort shouldn't hold any lacking qualities, as the android wished for nothing more than Lucas feeling truly home with the android, finding a place with him to truly relax for once.

The very narrow distance to each other was only sparsely revealed while the two men gazed out towards the view of the city Skyline of Detroit. And even though Simon lived closely by the heart of the town, which was always filled with noise and activities to any hour, right now it felt - quiet and peaceful, as if he and Lucas where the only ones that mattered to this nightly time of tranquility and proximity. The carer's arm timidly hooked with the one of the taller male besides him, crossing it by the ankle of his elbow, while the hoodie Simon was wearing today kind of helped not to make this gesture too unnecessary intimate, as he preferred such touch compared with a feeling of -- familiarity. A touch Lucas perhaps couldn't quite relate to, but nevertheless making him feel like he had once receive such softness from one of his predecessors he once carried closely to his heart. Whenever there would be a blow of a refreshing, cooling wind of the young spring's wings, the CyberLife unit would scoot a little closer towards Lucas, to warm him, to shield him but most importantly, comfort him.

When the android took notice of the conversant, deep spoken baritone voice of the Brit, the blonde nurse turned his head in fullest attentiveness, though didn't speak yet to cause any interruption, while Lucas would confess something which the PL600 in all honestly never would expect to hear. Simon was prepared that, whatever caused the man's soul to turn out so passive and almost cold, that it surely couldn't be something positive, it is not a personality someone was born with, but made of. He already heard bits of it, tiniest splinters of Lucas' family backstory for example, while there would be more, Simon was aware that the male would speak if he liked to, but in the end the machine couldn't deny, that Lucas ultimately trusted him, no matter of how much or little he talked about his past. "I... Guess this is something we have in common." the soft spoken carer murmured as a reply, as his gaze never left the man standing next to him and eveil smiled up towards him, perhaps to lighten the mood a little bit with that, but perhaps also to sympathize with the innocent gesture, to let Lucas know that Simon was aware of what he was talking about. And yet the blonde smiled, not only with his lips, but also with his eyes but if Lucas would take a closer look to these always kind and warm hues, he'd notice something - melancholic, yearning.

But then Simon's head moved, closing the remaining distance between himself and the brunette, as the side of his face rested against the slim, but strong shoulder of him, lids lowered themselves in a relaxed and content expression. The PL600 unit didn't speak directly, not explaining the reason of his choice of words or what they could mean, leaving Lucas with this unanswered statement, as if it wouldn’t be at any importance. This wasn’t a moment to dwell in sadness, and the carer wanted to make sure that it would remain the way the two were standing by each other’s side, peaceful and calm. “You can be sure... that nobody would take you away from me, not that I will run away, as I’d rather life to run away with you instead.” the blonde mused in gentle spoken whisper, as his arm took a hold of the other man’s waist, while hi head still snuggled itself against Lucas. “Perhaps it was some odd moment of fate or coincidence that allowed us to stand by each others side, for a longer time than expected. And I wouldn’t mind it at all if you would be part of my life for a longer time. Only.... if you wish the same.”

#;answered #scmethinginlatin #((I'm still ashamed this took me two days I'm so sorry ;3;#I wrote something extra so you can read more of Simon being a cute boy <333))#((And he deffo said I LOVE YOU very vaguely xD ))

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wild-ditto-appeared · 3 years ago

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Sylvia gasped, too. "I... I recognize you! You're a famous Coordinator and singer, right? You've gone around Sinnoh and Hoenn quite a few times--even competed against my sister! I-I dunno if you recognize her name, Lucy Reviar? Your Altaria had a faceoff against Lucy's--she owned the shiny one, named Sunny. I recorded the whole thing!"

While Sylvia gushed about Tahirah, Professor Oak took the liberty of explaining Poison-type Pokemon to Pegasus. "Some Pokemon types, such as Fire and Poison, are deadlier to humans than others are. The Kanto and Johto regions, in particular, have a surprising amount of Poison-type Pokemon. These Pokemon typically do not have the strongest attack power, but can quickly whittle down their opponents' health before they even get a chance to strike back. It all varies depending on the Pokemon, but should you ever encounter Team Rocket and their Poison-type Pokemon, you should face them with Psychic- or Ground-types, which have an advantage against them. Fairy-types, however, will be weak against them. Or, just in case, Steel-types are immune to their poisonous effects."

Nurse Joy turned to Professor Oak and Leon. "Excuse me, sirs... You were here just this morning, correct? Did you get involved in a battle of some kind?"

Sylvia squeaked and straightened her posture. "S-sorry..." she mumbled to no one in particular. Pip patted her head, shaking his own at her antics.

"Ah! Yes, you see, we caught a new Pokemon today," Professor Oak explained. "We were simply hoping to give Ditto and Pidgey some rest for the night. Mr. Pegasus, if you would..."

Sylvia moved out of the way as Pegasus deposited Ditto and Pidgey's Poke Ball onto the desk, then the group moved out of the way. Ditto, still fast asleep, was under the watchful eye of Chansey.

"I know you and my sister haven't talked a whole lot, but I really admire the way you and your Pokemon work together," Sylvia continued rambling, simply too excited to let this opportunity to go to waste. "I've been... sorta mimicking your singing style whenever I saw you onscreen, and--and your Primarina's voice is absolutely captivating! Its Sparkling Aria is enchanting in a way that... that almost feels like you're reliving a fairy tale of sorts! And, um, admittedly..." Sylvia blushed and avoided her eyes for this last sentence, though she seemed quietly proud of admitting it. "...Pip and I kinda sorta... we like to copy your and Primarina's duets... quite a bit. Sometimes Fluffy even joins in, heh..."

Pip puffed up his chest proudly. "Lup pip pip Pipiplup!" he declared to the world.

wild-ditto-appeared:

“Don’t worry, young lady,” Professor Oak said, shaking his head and waving her off. “We only just arrived. But I have to admit, we heard you saying something about a near-theft…?”

Sylvia held her hands close to her heart. “B… by any chance, did you encounter Team Rocket?” she asked. “Are you and your Pokemon okay?–w-what am I saying, your Pokemon are getting looked after by Nurse Joy… Um… but… d-did… everything work out? No one’s hurt?”

This girl… quite frankly, she reminded Sylvia of her siblings. She looked like Lucy, except taller and a bit more sporty, and also with opposite-color hair to her. And she sounded friendly enough. It must’ve gone alright, then, right?

But if she encountered Team Rocket, not only was there a chance that Pokemon were stolen–even if they weren’t hers–there was also the possibility of Shadow Pokemon appearing. And honestly, this combined with the world-traveling shenanigans… Sylvia might just call for some assistance here.

Not that that wasn’t already in the plan… Jack will be here in two days, Lucy in three. Plus, Almia and Fiore’s Ranger Headquarters were gathering teams of Pokemon Rangers to send to Kanto and Johto in order to round up the Shadow Pokemon in secret.

Oh, and they’d completely forgotten to inform Leon of the dangers of Shadow Pokemon, too! Leon’s help in this situation would be monumental.

Ugh… So many things to remember… too little time…

Tahirah nodded quickly, eyes widening. “Yes! They called themselves Team Rocket and used a ton of Poison-type Pokemon against mine!”

“Poison types?” Pegasus swallowed. “Is that another type of Pokemon…?”

“Yep.” Leon nodded, looking towards Pegasus. “That’s another type…”

“One of ‘em used a Galarian Weezing and the other one used a Skunktank!” The young woman’s nose wrinkeld a bit. “My Pokemon all got poisoned while battling them, but we managed to win and knock ‘em out, so they had no choice but to flee without taking anyone or anyting…but I had to rush my Pokemon over here before their conditions got worse! But otherwise…they’ll be okay. I just handed them over to Nurse Joy so they’ll be healed up soon.”

Pegasus let out a relieved breath. “Well, I’m glad to hear that you and your Pokemon are okay…”

“Thanks!” She smiled up at him, before she extended her basket towards Pegasus at the others. “Want a scone? I baked them earlier this morning. I wanted to eat them during training out in the woods, but then Team Rocket came, so…you get the idea. Oh, and my name’s Tahirah! Tahirah Zakiyaa! I grew up in Alola, but I’ve travelled all over…”

“Tahirah?” Pegasus offered her a soft smile, before accepting a few scones. “Thank you. My name is Maximillion Pegasus.”

“And I’m Leon.” Leon beamed at Tahirah, beaming at her. “I’m from Galar.”

“Leon!?” Tahirah’s jaw dropped, and Pegasus saw the starstruck gaze appear in her eyes. “You mean, THE Leon who’s Chairman of Galar’s Pokemon League and leader of the Battle Tower!? I’m such a big fan!”

#guest muse: sylvia reviar #guest muse: pip #guest muse: professor oak #guest muse: nurse joy #Fancy Friend!!!! (Pegasus)#New Friend???#sylvia meeting someone: hi yes have you heard about my amazing siblings and our passions and hopes and dreams together?#i mean that's how you socialize right?#...right?

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hol-whore · 5 years ago

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erina pendleton x fem!reader - poetry, ch. 1

As Erina's companion and lady's maid, you're very close to her. You've spent years by her side, tending to her when she's sick, tidying her room, dressing her, doing her hair, and plenty in-between. You're as much a friend as you are a servant, though; you share your favorite books with her and talk about life and listen to her dreams and ambitions. Surely that's all innocent enough, right? Nothing more than a Lady and her maid being friends. Right?

notes: little AU wherein jonathan and speedwagon are Boyfriends, anne lister published some diary entries as poems instead, and the victorian era is just. better. link is to AO3!

“-- and, listen to this, ‘She was the character I had long wished to meet with / to clear up my doubts whether such a one existed nowadays’? As if she had dreamed of such a woman so wonderful…”

Erina sighs, leaning back against you and clutching the poetry book you’d brought her that morning close to her chest. Wind dances with the curtains and lets the afternoon sun kiss the floor and furniture of her chamber. You smile down at her, playfully rolling your eyes and touching her face affectionately. “Milady, your hair…”

She pauses, her smile never faltering as she laughs a light apology and sits forward once again. You continue your brushing, lacing your fingers through her pretty blonde strands after the brush runs through. Her hair was always so soft, so beautiful, like a waterfall of sunlight. You almost didn't feel worthy of touching it.

The clock strikes one and sings a familiar tune that you both hum out of habit. It’s a sweet, small moment, and you both laugh a bit as you realize you’ve done the same as the other. Your heart flutters as you set the brush aside and work on pinning her hair up just how she likes it. Hard as you try, you can’t shake the delighted grin off your face. The butterflies in your stomach that come out when you’re around Lady Erina are more persistent than usual today, it seemed.

“Milady, tea is in two hours, and I recall you having guests today? Shall I prepare any shortbread? Perhaps pound cake?” you offer while you work, knowing full well such duties weren't your own.

“Oh, leave that for the other maids and the cook, and stay with me a while instead. I could...use your company while I’m reading.”

You wouldn't refuse an order from your Lady, of course.

“Would you like me to clean and sort the laundry, at least? Dust the wardrobe and dressers?”

Your hands come down from her hair and she stands, taking a look in the vanity mirror. She seems pleased, a warm smile gracing her face, and she steps towards you gently and takes your hands in hers. Her smile feels more bittersweet, now that you’re looking at it.

Erina squeezes your hands lightly, her eyes almost searching your face for something. You aren't sure what, but her gaze makes you feel the lowest of aches in your heart and you can't quite bear to meet her eyes fully.

“...If you must.” she says quietly, after too long a moment, bittersweet smile now just plain sad. She sighs, then, and brushes a thumb over your knuckles.You barely have time to react as she wraps her arms around you gently.

“Oh, you work yourself so hard over me…” Erina muses, her voice low in your ear and her hand flush against the small of your back.

She’d hugged you many a time before, but something felt different about this one. It felt heavy, like she wasn’t actually sure what to do.

You lean into her embrace, holding her tentatively, and she rubs her hand between your shoulder blades before pulling back and trudging to the larger chair by her low table with the poetry book in hand.

Deep down, you both knew that hug meant something more, needed something more. You just didn't quite know what it was.

She is quiet for a majority of the time, occasionally laughing or clutching her heart then sharing whatever poem had gotten to her. Some of them you recognized from skimming the book, checking that it was of similar content to the novels she enjoyed; tales of romance or adventure or women and their very close companions. They were your favorites, most often, and you couldn't explain it but there was a certain joy that came from Erina loving them as well.

Perhaps it was merely something like feeling equal to the woman you held so high in your heart. Or something. You couldn't be sure.

-------- Erina, usually oh-so social, is quiet while entertaining today’s guests, opting to listen to their tales of life and love. She doesn't seem bored at all; rather, she merely seems distracted. You figured it was simply because she had gone from being (save for your company) alone in her room to suddenly trying to focus on making conversation that just wouldn't be made.

Simply an off-day.

You pay careful attention to her anyway, fearing she may be getting sick. The main couple, always holding each other’s hands or making eyes at each other and laughing, shares a kiss at one point, and Erina looks the same way she does after she visits the garden in spring and sees no new blooms.

Questions crop up every now and then, in the veins of “when will Lady Pendleton find herself a fine gentleman” and “a nurse’s life shan’t be a lonely one, when will you marry” and “what of that Joestar boy, you would be quite the couple”. Erina deflects each one the way she always does, a quiet “Oh, you, I’ll marry when I find the one”. There's a twinge of fondness on her gentle face at the mention of the Joestars, and you know she can see her beloved friend and his forever-partner in her heart.

You knew why her and Jonathan wouldn’t happen; Erina was in firm in saying she thought nothing more of their relationship than close friends. Besides, he and Robert were glued to each other's sides. Not a soul outside the Pendleton manor knew --- for now --- but the men planned to marry as any couple would, living their lives together in comfort and delight. Erina had been thrilled when they told her the first time, so supportive and sweet as she was. Then again, who wouldn't envy their dedication?

The rest of the afternoon is without much ruckus, just some much needed quiet time, and as soon as she waves off her guests and shuts the front door, she practically falls into your arms and sighs deeply. “Dar-...Maid, fill the tub, will you? I… could use a warm bath to settle my nerves.”

Ah, surely, that’d been it. She was quiet because of nerves.

You hold her as tightly as she holds you, and rest your head upon hers when she nestles it gently in the crook of your neck. “Yes, Milady. Warm water? The soap from India?” you ask, confident you already know her answer. She is quiet for a beat, then hums and mutters, “I’d quite like to use the rose today.”

You freeze for a moment, then lift her from your arms and offer a puzzled look. “...Milady? My soap?”

“May I?”

“I-I….I suppose, but it is of quite lesser quality, I wo-”

“Quality matters not, dear heart, I know what I ask for.” Erina laughs, waving her hand at you.

She’s gazing into you now, the same weird, sweet sadness as earlier, and offers the same small smile before leaving your side and tidying the parlor.

There is a weight, a tension in the air as you prepare Erina for her bath. Her blonde locks tumble over her back and shoulder as you take it down, and you watch every strand with awe. You find yourself using more hand than usual stripping her clothes, smoothing fabrics before pulling zippers and the like. Occasionally you’ll brush her hand when she offers her aid, though Erina seems to be in no real rush.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost wager she’s doing it on purpose.

You hold her hand as she steps in, your cheeks flushing at all the revealed skin. You have absolutely no reason to feel as breathless as you do; you dressed her every morning, after all, and undressed her before baths and dressed her after. And yet, when you catch a glimpse of her bare breast as she settles in, you can't help but gasp under your thin breath.

Hurriedly, you hand her the (now near-finished) poetry book and busy yourself setting aside a towel and lotions, tidying up the bathroom, finding anything to keep your mind at peace without disrupting your Lady.

You leave at one point to fetch more hot water, and upon your return, Erina looks entirely lost in thought. Her book is now set on the stool by the tub, her brow furrowed deeply and face pale. You take great care pouring in the two buckets, and offer her a hand as you stir the water around.

“Milady?” It is a quiet question, a request for attention, and she jolts back to reality after a moment, taking your hand with a sigh. You move her book to the floor, taking a seat on the stool and grasping her hand between both of yours. “Are you sure you’re alright, Milady?”

Erina smiles weakly and nods, then musters her reassurance and sits forward only to turn her back to you. “Will you wash me up, maid?” she asks, her voice gentle, “I’m fine, but I’m...feeling rather faint.”

You wouldn’t refuse an order from your Lady, of course.

You swallow and take the rose soap, lathering the bar and working the suds against her back with your hands. She seems infinitely more at ease; quite unlike yourself, who seems to melt every time you touch a new patch of skin. You did this frequently enough; why could you suddenly not handle such simple, normal interactions with her today?

The rest of the bath continues with your heart showing no signs of peace, but you make light conversation and finally get Erina talking and laughing as she usually would with you rather than looking like she’d seen a ghost.

Once she’s out, all dried off, and dressed in at least her underclothes, she stops you from grabbing her evening dress and holds your hands the way she did that morning. There’s a quiet pleading in her blue eyes, like the ocean reaching for the moon with the tides.

She doesn't speak, at first, but when she finally does, you wish you could die.

“Let me bathe you.”

Her voice is so light and carefree, yet so strained, as if it took her entire soul to even think it.

“...Milady, this—”

“Please — you’ve done so much for me these all these years. Let me give back to you, I beg you, let my heart do this.”

“I…I don’t know that I can, Milady, it feels...wrong. I think.”

If you could, you immediately wish you could die twice.

Erina looks confused, heartbroken, frustrated. She furrows her brow and her gaze goes through you.

“Damned as it is, I wish you wouldn't call me that. Why must it be ‘Milady’ this, ‘Milady’ that? You are too fond to my poor heart for formalities, sparrow.” She says, her voice still quietly strained and shaky. She pauses and sighs, stepping closer and placing tremored hands on your shoulders.

“Is it wrong, dear heart, my treasure, darling earth under my sky, for me to want to give back?”

Your heart aches, seeing this woman you thought you only loved because you it was all you knew to do so suddenly torn up, and in that moment you understand.

You were in love with her, plain and simple.

And something told you she was in love too.

#pacing? idk her #erina pendleton #erina pendleton x reader #jjba #jjba fanfic #my writing #uhhhhhhh this is. just some indulgent bs

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sellyoursoulforagoodfic · 5 years ago

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JKR

Joker x reader

Summary:You’re an assassin from out of town that ends up in the middle of the nonsense that is the Joker’s reign of terror during The Dark Knight. Where do you go from here?

Word Count: 2570

“Does it ever stop raining in this fucking city?” Y/N muttered to herself as the thunder shook the building for what had to have been the millionth time.

“‘Fraid not, my dear!” a chipper-sounding voice answered from the cell next to hers. “Most of the locals know that, though, so let me guess. You’re new in town?”

Her eyes drifted over to look at the speaker and was surprised by what she saw: a man in a surprisingly vibrant green vest with worn-looking clown makeup and green hair that looked downright dingy compared to the vest. “You could say that. And who are you supposed to be?”

A wicked smirk tugged at his red-coated lips. “Oh, no one really. Just the foil to the bit Bat.”

“Who?”

“You really are from out of town!” he cackled. “What’s a beautiful adventurer like you doin’ in a place like big, bad, Gotham?”

“Business,” was her vague answer.

“Must be some interesting business if they have you locked in here with little ol’ me.”

Her attention was stolen by the telltale clanging sounds of approaching guards. “You could say that.” It was her turn to smirk.

“Do you happen to have the time?” he asked abruptly.

The upward quirk of her lip immediately fell in confusion, but she looked around for a clock nonetheless. From her cell, she could just make out the reflection of red numbers in the glass opposite her. “It’s 8:43. Why?”

“Too soon, then,” he muttered, seemingly to himself. His dark eyes seemed to light up when he looked back up at her. “Ooh, are they coming for you?”

Her jaw clenched. “If they are, they’re gonna regret it.”

“Got somethin’ special planned for ‘em?”

She chuckled as she untied her boot to allow her fingers enough room to reach the pocket hidden within. Then she promptly withdrew a small knife. “You could say that.”

“Now how did you get that past the scanner?” He sounded a little impressed despite the little faux pout on his face.

“Ceramic. No metal in it to be spotted on their scanner.”

“Oh, you are a curious one,” he mused, clapping with glee. “Might I ask the name of such a femme fatale before she makes her daring escape?”

“Y/N.”

And then everything turned to chaos.

The guards burst in wearing full riot gear and immediately swarmed Y/N’s cell. The next few minutes saw her doing everything from slashing throats to using guards as meat shields against their teammates’ shots. All this while her neighbor clapped and laughed in unfiltered joy. By the end, she was left standing alone amongst a sea of dead and dying guards.

“Well, that’s my cue to leave,” she announced as she armed herself with a handful of stolen weapons. “Have fun with … whatever it is you’ve got planned.”

“Oh, I will. See you around, Y/N.” His voice shifted lower, became husky as he said her name, drawing a little chill down her spine.

The next several hours were a clusterfuck to say the least. Y/N had been hired by some Italian mobster to take out one Harvey Dent. That was why she was in the city in the first place. She’d gotten arrested during the old Commissioner’s funeral because they’d heightened security due to some threat, and she was caught in the guards’ paranoia. Rightfully so considering her intentions, but it still annoyed her to be waiting around in jail for a chance to escape while her plan just fell to pieces before her. Then she found out Dent was already kidnapped and half-blown-up in an explosion.

So basically, she was pissed that her straightforward plan to assassinate some DA was becoming more and more difficult by the hour. Changing her plans for a bout the fiftieth time since entering the godforsaken city, she found out what hospital her target was being treated at, and resolvedd to pose as a nurse and drug him. If all went well, it would look like incompetence of a real nurse and that would be the end of that.

Only to run smack into another nurse right outside the door. “Excuse me,” she muttered, keeping her head down. “His doctor told me to prep him for–What the he–” She cut herself off as she recognized the eyes above the surgical-mask-wearing-person that’d just dragged her into an empty room.

“Now, I really doubt that, doll,” he teased, removing his mask. “Ain’t I a lucky one to run into you in such a convenient manner?”

Her eyes narrowed. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question, Missy.” As he spoke he pushed her slowly until her back met the wall, effectively trapping her.

As soon as her back hit the cold surface, she raised a knife to his neck. “I am trying to do the job I was hired to do, and I’m starting to get the sneaking suspicion that you’re the one that keeps fucking up my plans.”

“Ooh, let me guess, you’ve killed people for less?” He started cackling again, seemingly excited by the thought.

She smirked. “You could say that.”

“Well, I’m afraid I can’t let you kill poor Mr. Dent. I need him for a little game I’m playing with the Batman.” He traced a finger along the blade of the knife just lightly enough that he didn’t cut himself.

“See the problem with that,” she dug the knife in a little deeper, drawing a thin line of blood along the side of his neck, “is if I don’t get this job done, I’m going to have Gotham’s infamous mob after me.”

“And what if I told you that I had that, uh, mob under my thumb?”

“I’d say that when I get paid for a job, I fucking do it.”

He leaned forward until their noses were brushing, inadvertently making the cut deeper. Not that he seemed to care. “Loyalty. I like that.”

She scoffed. “I’m not loyal to those assholes. I just keep my word.”

“Then how about you just … delay his execution for a bit? Let the boy enjoy a little revenge before you kill him?”

Y/N let her eyes roam around his face while she thought about it. He was an interesting one, and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t curious about what he had planned. “That, I can do. You keep shitting all over my plans anyway. Which reminds me, it was your guys that shot at the mayor, right?”

“In a manner of, uh, speaking.”

Her eyes lit up as she realized what he was implying. “So you’re the guy I didn’t recognize! I had info on everyone that had checked in to be in that line, and then you showed up instead of the last one.”

“Right you are, dollface, but I’m afraid we’re gonna have to continue this later. I’ve got chaos to spread.” He leaned forward enough just enough that their lips grazed together in the ghost of a kiss.

Y/N was surprised, but not mad at the development, so she allowed the hand holding the knife to fall to her side. “For the record,” she cleared her throat in a poor attempt to hide the fact that she enjoyed that little touch, “the suit looked way better than the nurse getup.”

Again, he cackled, this time backing away a little. “I like you. You should make a quick getaway, sweetheart; things are about to get hot around here.” And then he donned the mask once more and danced out of the room.

The next couple of days went by in a strange blur for Y/N. She mostly spent the time following Harvey around right up until Batman shoved him down a hole in a fatal fall that was significantly aided by the tiny poison dart she shot into his neck once he landed. After that, she mostly lamented the fact that the one interesting person in the city, the Joker she’d since learned, had been captured the night the whole city was threatened.

Never one to do anything she wasn’t getting paid for, Y/N wouldn’t be breaking her amusement out of Arkham, but she did keep her ears open for information about the man. Instead, she tripped over the realization that one Bruce Wayne was Batman when she talked–interrogated–to the man that almost spilled his secret identity on the news.

Be that as it may, she didn’t expect to return to her apartment from buying groceries to find Wayne himself lounging on her couch. “Apparently I need to call pest control,” she muttered automatically, “someone’s let vermin in.” She slammed her bags down on her kitchen counter in irritation before returning to the living room to stare at her unwelcome guest expectantly.

“I trust I don’t have to tell you to keep your … new knowledge to yourself,” he responded casually. “And you can put that knife away, I’m not here to fight.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” she said despite the fact that she returned the purple-handled pocket knife to her waistband. She’d been amused when she saw it at the store, and bought it on a whim. “I know what you did to my employer. Cost me a paycheck.”

“On the contrary, I’m here to thank you. You helped us save Harvey’s reputation by killing him”

“And made him a fucking martyr. Lovely.”

“And made quite the name for yourself here while you were at it: Red Queen, Killer of Gotham’s White Knight,” he proclaimed. This was immediately followed by a shrug. “At least that’s what the paper said.” His eyes narrowed. “They left out the whole ‘friend of Joker’ part at my request.”

“And yet the name is still derivative. Interesting,” she deadpanned. “Wonder how long it’ll take someone to connect the dots. That being said, I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about. All I know is that the news said Mr. Dent died from a fall.”

Another shrug. “They found a dart later, and his system was full of morphine. Enough to kill several men.”

“First I’ve heard of it,” came her cool reply. “And besides, if that’s true how can you possibly be sure that that assassin was connected to the Joker. Let alone that it’s me.”

“If it’s so absurd, how about you explain this,” Wayne prompted, slapping a tablet onto the coffee table between them.

Against her better judgement, Y/N caved to her curiosity and picked up the device. Displayed there in full technicolor was a crystal-clear image of the barely-kiss between the Joker and herself.”

“Now I’m no expert,” his voice was almost mocking now, “but that’s you, and that doesn’t look like you don’t know him.”

“Your point?” Annoyed, she threw the tablet back at him like a frisbee, which he caught much to her displeasure.

“We’re at an impasse on the police front. You know who I am, and I know where you are. The commissioner isn’t looking for you because he’s busy with everything else that’s happening.”

“I don’t tell; you don’t tell. I’m not an idiot, Mr. Wayne.”

“Then as long as you stay away from the Joker we can keep it that way.”

“I don’t appreciate being threatened in my own home, Mr. Wayne,” this time his name was said through gritted teeth.

“And I don’t like assassins coming into my city and shacking up with people like the goddamn Joker. Stay away from him.” With that, he stood and straightened his obviously-expensive suit. “I hope we don’t meet anytime soon, Miss Y/L/N.”

“Fuck off.”

No less than five minutes after the bat-obsessed vigilante left, Y/N heard the front door open again from her place in the kitchen. Cautiously, she retrieved the loaded sawed-off shotgun from its place under the counter. “What’s the matter, Mr. Wayne?” she taunted as she crept from the kitchen to the living room. “Forget something?”

“Replace me already?” a different, familiar voice mocked right back.

Gun still aimed at approximately chest-high, Y/N rounded the corner. She relaxed somewhat upon recognizing the intruder. “Joker?”

“A shotgun?” He used one finger to push the barrel away, grin beaming all the while. “Woman after my own heart.”

She rolled her eyes but relaxed her grip on the gun so that it hung limply by her side. “I’m not even gonna ask how you found me.”

“But it was so interesting,” he whined playfully. A smirk pulled at his lips.

“Joker,” her voice was warning.

“Oh alright, but you have to tell me about what good ol’ Mr. Wayne wanted. I had to wait out in the cold for him to leave. For hours, Y/N.”

“It’s 70 degrees out.”

“Oh, come on, dollface. What’s with the attitude? I thought we had something special.”

“You damn well why Wayne was here,” she snapped. “First, I make a fucking martyr because I listened to you, and now I’ve got a billionaire breaking into my place threatening to stay away from you! Special or not, I’m in the middle of a Gotham City Shitstorm because of you, and I never even got paid for it!”

“I’m not that blind, sweetheart.” His tongue darted out to lick at his bottom lip. “You love the chaos. You live for it. I’ve seen your record. You only take jobs that you think will be interesting, because you thrive under the pressure.” As he spoke, he stalked closer, forcing her to step back, until he had her pressed against a wall just like last time. “Am. I. Wrong?” Those last words were muttered right beside her ear, breath causing goosebumps to form along her skin.

By that point, Y/N had quietly drawn that knife back out with her free hand and had the tip of the blade pressed lightly against his groin.

“I’d ask if you’ve got a knife to my balls or if you’re happy to see me, but I know you’re happy to see me,” he stated casually.

To that, she rolled her eyes.

“You haven’t answered me yet, sweetheart,” he taunted. He turned his head so those scarred lips brushed against the bare skin of her neck. “You crave the adrenaline from jobs like this, don’t you?”

She shivered. “You could say that,” she smirked as she repeated her answer from the first time they met.

The Joker used surprisingly gentle fingers to pry the shotgun out of her hand before setting it on a shelf beside them. “So join me. Just,” sharp inhale as her now-free hand slid up to grasp at the front of his vest, “imagine how much fun we could have playing both sides of ol’ Batsy.”

In a flash, she used that free hand to reach up while he was distracted to grab his hair and yank his head back so she could look him in the eye. Granted, she didn’t expect the quiet moan and ensuing giggle from him. Arousing as that was, Y/N chose to ignore it. For now. “And what do you get out of it?”

He practically purred at the question. “You.”

A laugh escaped her at the simplicity of the answer. Impulsively, she started leaving open-mouthed kisses along his exposed throat. “I think I can live with that.”

From there, he positively howled with insane cackling. “Ol’ Gotham won’t know what hit ‘em!”

#joker x reader #the joker x reader #heath ledger joker x reader #joker imagine #the joker imagine #dark knight imagine #reader insert

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honeymoonjin · 6 years ago

Text

ten - ot7 x reader fluff

A/N: the final part to our numbers trilogy! Read the first part here - Seven, and the second part here - Eight. 1.9k. (i’m boo boo the fool and wrote this whole thing before realizing that i couldn’t call it ‘nine’ anymore oops) Life changes now that you and your seven boyfriends are parents.

---

“Isn’t she beautiful?”

Beaming down at the sleeping new-born in your arms, you can’t help but agree with Hoseok. After an excruciatingly long labor and a couple of days in hospital, you had returned home and spent the next week and a half in new-parent bliss with the boys.

The past nine months had been full of trials and tribulations. Seeing the boys anywhere outside the dorm became impossible as countless emergency meetings were scheduled on whether BigHit should let the public know you were pregnant. The thought even came up that you should get a paternity test for your baby so that only the ‘real’ father would be publicly known as the dad.

You cringe thinking back to that meeting. Hoseok had gotten all quiet and scared at the thought that he might not be able to be seen with you in public if he wasn’t the father. Namjoon, Jin and Yoongi had gotten heated to the point of yelling about how that would affect the group morale, Jimin and Taehyung left, telling Sejin that they would go on strike from the group if Sejin wanted to split them apart like that. Worst of all, your gentle Koo had started crying, hand clasped over his mouth and nose as his shoulders shook, letting out upset whimpers with every sob.

The pregnancy wasn’t all emotionally strenuous meetings though. There was an abundance of joy that kept you going in seeing your boyfriends prepare to be fathers. Still, to this day, the eight of you had a parenting-specific group-chat called ‘Operation Baby’, which had started out as a way for the members to give their opinions on baby clothes and nursery furniture since they weren’t allowed to be seen shopping for items like that. Now it was mostly used to designate whose turn it was to get up when the cries started at all hours of the morning.

There were some slight disagreements over time; Jimin, who desperately wanted to buy little color-coded booties and binkies, wanted to find out the gender but Namjoon was insistent that gender wasn’t something to designate a color, and that the sex of the baby didn’t matter, that you would love it equally no matter what. Jimin reluctantly settled for buying booties in every pastel shade there was (he teared up opening the massive cardboard box that arrived in your mail one Wednesday morning). One night, while he was a bit too drunk, Jin suggested that he should be the name for the father on the birth certificate since he was the oldest. Hoseok rebutted that it should be him since he had been dating you the longest, and a scuffle had broken out on your patio. In the end, Jin had won the battle, but with the caveat that he would get no extra rights over the others. That decision was one of the hardest you had to make.

Luckily for you and the boys, it wasn’t touring season. They had just finished the final leg of their world tour when you were reaching the end of your second trimester, and then they were allowed to have a one-month complete break before returning to work. Still, Sejin and Bang PD had decided it was wise to have them working on a new album for a while, at least over the later months of the pregnancy and after giving birth. They had been gradually increasing public appearances on a smaller scale to keep the fans entertained; a new season of Run! was airing, their mobile game had been a hit as expected, and they were taking the time to feature as guests on several Korean variety shows and be interviewed over Skype for some international news outlets. Put simply, everything had gone much more smoothly than you think anyone was expecting.

“Ah, I think Jimin wants to come in,” Hobi says softly, pulling you out of your musings. You glance up to see a shadowed silhouette wiggling around behind the clouded-glass of Namjoon’s studio. The man himself, Namjoon, was fast asleep on the small couch and you didn’t think he’d be waking up anytime soon. He lay there with his legs sticking off the end, his mouth dangling open and a string of drool gathering on the fabric under his cheek. Namjoon looked totally exhausted.

You nod and Hobi and he gets up quickly to let Jimin in, shushing him the moment the door opens. Behind him, Jungkook enters silently, waving to the infant in your arms cheerily and immediately running up to start wiggling her little chubby legs and tickling her tummy as she lets out little coos. With a hushed voice, Jimin questions, “how is our little Hana doing?”

You beam down at the little girl, letting her latch onto your pinky with her tiny sausage fingers, complete with the smallest fingernails in the world. “She’s happy. We’re trying to get her used to the sounds of the equipment running.” There was always a slight buzz in the air because of how much producing equipment was in here and the other studios, and you had read once that if you got a puppy used to certain noises then it wouldn’t bother them when they grew up. Surely babies were the same, right?

Jimin sighs out dreamily, coming forward to rub your back and give the baby’s forehead a kiss. “Can I hold her?” Instinctively, Jungkook steps back to give you two room.

“Of course,” you whisper back, deftly navigating the delicate body out of your arms and into his. “Where’s Dul?”

So, there was another thing. Not that long after you started regularly going to the clinic for checkups, your nurse found two heartbeats. The boys were over the moon – all the more babies to love; you couldn’t stop thinking about how hard it would be when they eventually had to return to work. But for now, you tried not to think about that and just enjoy your sweet little twins. Taehyung, who had twins in his family’s history, thought this meant he was the biological father. But then again, the family resemblance had become a bit of an ongoing inside joke. Your little daughter had Yoongi’s gummy smile, Namjoon’s dimples, and your nose. Her brother, older by sixteen minutes, had Jungkook’s glittering eyes, Jimin’s pillowy lips, and had already started twitching his nose like Jin. Nobody could deny that the little infants looked nothing like Hobi, and while you’d all joke around about it, you could tell it hurt him.

Jimin laughs breathily, bouncing the baby until she lets out a sweet yawn, bunching her fist up by her mouth, and promptly goes to sleep in her daddy’s arms. “We really need to come up with names already. One and Two aren’t going to be cute much longer.”

You fix him with a glare. “Excuse me! I don’t see you posting any better suggestions on the Operation Baby chat.”

He tuts you with a grin. “That’s because the last few options have been Thing One and Thing Two, Bob and Linda, and pussydestroyer69 and pussydestroyer420.”

Having been quiet for a few minutes, Jungkook reflexively blurts, “pussydestroyer420 and 69 are gender neutral, okay? I thought Namjoon would appreciate it.” He turns and gives the sleeping leader a baleful look. “I can never win.”

You reach up and pat his cheeks teasingly, standing up and stretching out your sore arm joints. “Anyway, whereabouts is my little son?”

Jungkook leans into your touch, wrinkling his nose in protest to your pats. “The kitchen. Jin and Tae are telling him how to make spaghetti Bolognese.”

You laugh softly, leaving the three boys sitting and the one sleeping in Namjoon’s studio, heading down the hallway to the kitchen. As you approach, you can hear an angelic low melody hummed by Taehyung, and the animated yet matter-of-fact tone of Jin describing how to properly dice onion.

You smother a grin, rounding the corner and taking a seat at the breakfast bar. Jin had apparently heard somewhere that it was important to speak a lot around growing children to increase their exposure to language, and had taken it upon himself to narrate his entire life in the past week to the little oblivious babies. He gestured passionately with the knife and his elbows as Tae kept a safe distance, bouncing the baby softly as it lay against his chest, head tucked into Taehyung’s neck. The humming had clearly sent your son to sleep; truth be told, the slow version of Scenery had your eyelids feeling heavy too.

Once he notices your presence, Jin sighs heavily. “Finally, you’re here! Your son isn’t listening to me!”

You smile, eyes crinkling. “In his defense, that knife would be fair too heavy for him to hold.”

“Weakling,” Jin mutters.

The humming stops. “You look tired,” Taehyung notes, tipping his head at you. “You and Yoongi were on night shift last night, right?”

You make a noise of affirmation and nod once. “Hana just wouldn’t settle. I think she’s going to be the trouble one of the two.”

“That’s true. This guy seems pretty easygoing.” You let yourself get lost in the sight of Taehyung snuggling your baby boy, Tae’s hand bigger than the infant’s entire back, but then Taehyung calls your name again. “Y/n. Go to bed, baby. We’ve got this; haven’t we, Jin-hyung?”

Jin scrapes the diced onions into the pan and smiles up at you, cheeks puffing. “Dinner’s still a couple of hours away. Get some rest, jagiya.”

As much as you want to savor every moment with your family, you’re certainly relieved to finally have a good reason to lie down. You give them both a soft kiss on the lips, and your baby several smooches on his chubby cheeks and soft head, before padding down the hallway to the only other person who’s still in bed.

“Yoongi,” you whisper into the dark bedroom, curtains drawn. The lump under the blankets doesn’t move. “Are you awake?”

“Physically,” comes the gruff reply. You grin and shuck your clothes quickly, leaving just your underwear on before slipping under the covers. “Hey, baby. How are the terrible two?”

“Taehyung and Jungkook are fine,” you quip.

“Ha ha. C’mere, I wanna snuggle.” You huff a laugh at the demanding way he asks for affection, but nevertheless shuffle into his grasp, letting him wrap his arms around you, planting soft kisses on your bare shoulder.

You hum in contentment at the sensation. “Love you, Yoonie.”

“I love you more.”

You tilt your head up and scrunch your nose playfully. “I love you most.”

His eyes are narrowed at the edges as he smiles. “Fine then, you win. Now let me spoon my beautiful wife and the mother of my children.”

Your eyes fly open. “What.”

“Uh.” Yoongi stammers. “Just, uh, ignore that wife comment. Shit.” You chuckle a little and lie back against the pillows, feeling a lazy finger trace circles on your skin. Minutes later, when you’re almost asleep, you hear him murmur into the silent room, “just pretend to be surprised when Hoseok pulls out the ring, okay?”

#bangtanarmynet #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #bts fluff #ot7 oneshot #bts x reader #ot7 fic #jin #yoongi #hoseok #namjoon #jimin #taehyung #jungkook

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merryfortune · 6 years ago

Text

Nosocomephobia

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Vrains

Ship: Jin/Spectre

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: hospitals, depiction of a panic attack, references to the Lost Incidents

Spectre knocked on the door and kept the bouquet of flowers in his other hand tightly by his side. He waited and then he heard a weak voice, “Come in,” and he followed the meek instruction. He opened the door and crept inside. His stomach knotted, and he felt sick. Violently so and he could feel his skin growing hotter and wet with panicky sweat. They were two very different people, he thinks, and yet, he had forced himself to visit regardless.

Jin was relaxing, face up to the ceiling almost in pretence of a nap but his eyes were open, in his bed. The sheets were a crisp and pristine white which were so bright, despite being quite used, that they hurt Spectre’s eyes. He felt the twitch of fear inside of himself, but he managed regardless. He forced himself to ignore it, even though it caused him to slow his steps as he approached the bedside.

Fortunately, Jin did not seem to mind as he became distracted by a remote. His bed whirred and soon, he was propped up. He indicated that a chair was close to his bedside, silently offering it for Spectre’s comfort but refused to sit and meet Jin’s eyeline as he propped himself up so that he may meet his companion more properly. But Spectre refused all such courtesy.

“I brought you flowers,” Spectre said, “I thought that would be polite. Brighten up your room, I suppose.” His voice was scratchy, and he was not meeting Jin’s gaze.

“Thank you, that’s very kind of you, Spectre.” Jin murmured.

“I don’t suppose you have a vase or similar?” Spectre asked, not particularly caring for Jin’s sentiments, and he glanced around the room.

The room was bleak and sterile. It was completely and utterly human; devoid of anything organic with shapeless pleated curtains and idling machinery dotting the corners of the room. It represented everything Spectre detested.

Spectre had a deep hatred of many things, human things but hospitals were, possibly, the worst of the lot and being here now, he was reminded of why. He didn’t know how Jin could stand it. They were all the same. Too clean, too white, too human. Nothing natural about them and the slow, constant beeps of machines. The windows were too small, and they were so bare. Nothing on the walls except reminders of what you were to the professionals who were not paid enough to care about more than how you were represented on those statistics. Spectre detests hospitals.

But his hand had been forced by Ryoken who thought it would be a good idea to visit. If it were up to Spectre, he would have waited until Jin was discharged but that seemed like an eternity away despite his grand improvements in condition post being used as Lightning’s servant. His podium, really. And even then, there was no way that Spectre would be permitted to even draw in close to the Kusanagi residence. So, it was now or not at all and Spectre, despite his reservations and fears and loathing, did not want it to be not at all.

Still, Spectre’s gaze, and his consequent musings, returned to what was before him. And that was that, until further notice, Jin was going to reside in hospice care, and they were supposed to be amicable. Thus, Spectre answered his own question now that his reverie, lulled, had finally broken.

“No, you don’t…” Spectre mused, with one last sweeping glance throughout his surroundings, as unnerving as they were.

“It’s okay, I can have a nurse find one for us.” Jin said.

“No. Absolutely not.” Spectre snapped.

Both Jin and Spectre were surprised by how loud Spectre’s voice had been. Spectre turned regretful, but Jin was forgiving. He knew that Spectre hadn’t meant it. Though, his hands twitched in betrayal to such good, sweet nature.

“Alright then…” Jin murmured. “I’ll just, um, hold onto them until later then.”

“If that’s what you want.” Spectre said, turning over the bouquet to Jin.

Jin delicately accepted it and his complexion changed with the bouquet’s flowers reflecting upon him, almost smiling yearnful smiles to him. He looked nice with the different flowers in his arms, admiring them. Spectre had wanted to bring Jin spider lilies but the moment Ryoken had learned of such a plan, he immediately had their Knights to tag along with Spectre on his endeavour to buy a bouquet. After all, spider lilies seemed too hateful a gift given that Jin was in a hospital and they were a symbol of death. Spectre still thought it oddly appropriate, even now.

“Thank you. I really love them.” Jin said.

There was genuine joy in Jin’s voice. It warmed Spectre’s heart. He hadn’t thought the gift anything more than a token but, he was weak when it came to people who could enjoy flowers.

“You’re welcome.” Spectre said. “Now, if you will, I would like to be excused. I’ve completed my… mission, for lack of a better word.”

“No. Please stay… You’re my only company today.” Jin said, licking his lips and his hand made a feeble move forward. Had Spectre been closer, Jin may have touched him. Grabbed his hand or similar.

“…I am not exactly a toy, Jin.” Spectre decided to reply.

“Oh. You’re busy? That’s alright then…” Jin said.

“Thank you for understanding.” Spectre said.

“But, please, are you sure you can’t just stay a little longer? I wanna apologise.” Jin said.

Spectre blinked. “Apologise? What for?” he scoffed.

“I was… I nearly… We – no, I – hurt you, Spectre. When you… when you lost that du-” Jin mumbled.

“That wasn’t you. That was Lightning’s manipulations of you. I absolve you of any guilt you may feel regarding me.” interjected Spectre. He took a breath. “Now, I really must be leaving, Jin.”

“Alright, bye, bye…” Jin said. “Thank you again for the flowers.”

“I make no promises, but I hope to see you again s-”

“Oh, I didn’t realise that you had a guest.”

Spectre’s nerves prickled as an unidentified, female voice interrupted him. An icy chill sent shockwaves through his body. He turned, robotically, and watched a woman let herself into the room. She had trays upon trays stacked on a cart. She was dressed in nursing scrubs, a dull, turquoise blue. She appeared harmless enough, but her appearance was more than enough to set Spectre off, but he remained strong. Composed.

“Are you a friend of Jin’s?” she asked.

“No. I-I’m not, sorry. I must be leaving, sorry.” Spectre said, tripping on his own words.

Jin stiffened in his bed. He was uncertain as to what was happening, but he didn’t feel rejected. If anything, he was taken asunder by a confused sort of concern. Something bad was about to happen – was already happening – and he didn’t know what the exact cause of it or how to prevent it. For now, he resolved to tread tentatively.

“He’s a friend of a friend, ma’am.” Jin said. “Now, would you please let him pass?”

“Did he bring you those flowers, Jin?” she asked, choosing to ignore Jin’s request but she flashed at smile at Spectre.

“Yes.” Jin replied.

She set aside the cart, unthinkingly, and continued to block Spectre’s path out of the room. He was so close to the entryway and yet so far. His stomach knotted and the woman came closer to Spectre’s bedside. She brushed up against Spectre and another shiver was sent down his spine. His hands felt aflame.

“Aw, aren’t they pretty?” she mused, and she reached across for them, to pet them. “I can go fetch a vase for ‘em, if you like.

“Don’t touch them!” Spectre all but roared.

The room fell silent in the wake of his yell. He began to tremble like a leaf, until his legs gave out and he collapsed. Thoughts turned jumbled in his head whilst he tasted bile in his mouth. Hands clamped over his ears and his chin to his knees, cowering against the underside of the bed. The room was deathly quiet save for his quiet, almost mad mutterings. Spectre all but shut down.

“P-Please leave, ma’am. Y-You’re upsetting my friend.” Jin resolutely piped up.

The nurse had a realisation which came tumbling down on her like a tonne of bricks. She immediately backed off and took her cart with her. Though, despite her departure, Spectre’s relief was not imminent.

In his head, he was trapped with all the sounds and scents he despised Everything from the dull, monotonous beep of the machines monitoring Jin’s heart rate to the smell of sanitiser. It all gave him a headache; all of which was intensified by memories which he had thought that he had overcome a long time ago but, apparently not.

Spectre may have found enjoyment in the Lost Incident, despite the electrocution and the starvation he was subject to, but he found no such thing in the aftermath of it. The hospital bed that he had been confined to in the wake of it had been more of a torturous prison than the little white room that he had spent six months inside of. And that had left a lasting impression upon him.

Jin put down the flowers. He began to tear apart his made bed. He pulled out a blanket.

“Would you like a blanket?” Jin asked.

Spectre breathed heavily. “No. I would not like a blanket.”

“I’m sorry.” mumbled Jin. “What about water?”

Spectre slowly rose from his crouched position. But his legs felt weak so, he took a perch on Jin’s bed rather than standing. From there, he focused on his breathing and staring only at his shoes, so intently that he could have bore a hole in the spick-and-span leather. He licked his lips and wondered how his mouth had become so dry.

“Yes please.” Spectre said.

Jin lifted his cup from his bedside and offered it to Spectre. “You’re not fussy, are you?” he asked.

Spectre shook his head, he was but, he was desperate so he was willing to put his preferences aside in haste, and accepted the cup. His fingers were twitchy, shaky. He drank greedily from it. It wasn’t nice. It was overly processed so he disliked it, but it felt nice to have something wet in his parched mouth regardless.

“Thank you.” Spectre said, breathing a sigh of relief.

“I-It’s no problem.” Jin mumbled. “I’m sorry. I should have let you leave sooner…”

“No, it’s quite lucky that I stayed. I would rather have had my… episode in here, in privacy, than in the hallway.” Spectre told him.

“Oh.”

Spectre got up and though there was a slight wobble to his movements, he was able to remain composed. He fluffed up his jacket, dusting off specks which only existed in his imagination. He turned around, slightly, and grimaced. It was a strange expression, self-pitying yet sympathetic.

“You’re a lot braver than people give you credit for, Jin. Or maybe you just seem that way because you’ve lived my personal Hell.” Spectre said.

Jin blushed. “Y-You’re too kind, Spectre…”

“I’m really not.” Spectre dryly replied with an awkward expression which suited him better than his prior grimace.

“If you say so…” Jin sighed. “I’ll see you later, then? Maybe?”

“Yes. I will… see you later.” Spectre said.

“Or not. I – I don’t want you to be dragged back to the hospital if it makes you uncomfortable.” Jin stammered.

“Thank you, Jin. But, it’s really nothing. I’m fine.” Spectre lied.

“We’ll find a compromise.” Jin insisted.

Spectre shrugged. “If you say so.”

“And I promise to take good care of the flowers you gave me, as well. I promise not to let the nurse touch them, if you like.” Jin said as he reached across back to his bedside table to return the bouquet to his lap.

Spectre softened. Jin truly looked like the picture of perfection with the different flowers in his grasp. So, finally, Spectre drew in closer to Jin and he felt a romantic instruction twinge deep inside of him. He caressed Jin’s face and gave him a quick, chaste peck on his cheek. Jin stiffened to his touch, his cheeks burned.

“Thank you for your consideration, Jin,” Spectre said as he replaced the distance between them again, “now, I’m going to finally excuse myself, my dear.”

“S-Sure… Sounds good. H-Have a – Have a safe trip back to, um, where ever it is y-you live.” Jin stammered.

Spectre nodded and with a strangely heavy heart, he excused himself from Jin’s room. As Spectre left, he felt a bit more courage in himself than when he had entered the hospital. Although, such things petered out as he had to pass yet more people dressed in scrubs and similar, but it was nice to know, to understand, there was at least one room in this wretched place that he could find some salvation in. Even if it was only for a short time.

#writing tag #subservientshipping #yugioh vrains #vrains #yugioh #spectre (vrains)#jin kusanagi #kusanagi jin #jin kolter #i wrote this literally at the beginning of february and just didn't post it #originally i was gonna post it last saturday but then i was possessed by bl/ack f/orest c/ake #anyway its my god given duty to help break up all the dss fics on ao3

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