#hello! i'm back. and sick of staring at this chapter so here it is | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kayharrisons · 14 days ago

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Really fucked it up this time, didn't I my dear? [BJORN X FEM!READER] [18+ ONLY] [4 OF?]

Where it all went wrong.

A/N: HELLO I'M BACK AHAHA have chapter 4 :3 we learn why Bjorn and Reader started to fall apart :) this is ANGSTTTT

Series warnings: unplanned pregnancy, discussions of abortion, eventual childbirth, commitmentphobe Bjorn, possessive Bjorn, talks of morning sickness and other pregnancy symptoms, friends to fwb to something Worse, cheating mentions, nsfw content such as sex and eventual Alien type scenarios

18 weeks ago

"I'm gonna break it off with him," you murmur, one morning, curled into Bjorn's side and trailing your fingers up and down his chest.

He grunts a sleepy noise, squinting at you through half closed lids. "Why?" he asks, yawning, as he idly brushes his fingers through the ends of your hair. "Wha'sthe twat done?"

"Bjorn," you frown, shifting to sit up a little, searching his face. "I can't... it's not fair on him. He's not done anything wrong-"

"Beyond be a bit shit in bed?" he deflects, and you scowl.

"Bjorn!"

"What?" he huffs, arm flopping back onto the bed, frown firmly in place. "Not wrong, otherwise you wouldn't be coming to me for a shag, now would you?"

You flinch, staring at him with wounded eyes. His jaw sets, but he offers no apologies. "Is that what you think?" You ask, voice wavering. "That's the only reason I...?"

His eyes darken, and he shifts uncomfortably, looking outside of his bedroom window. There's nothing of interest outside of it, of course there isn't. But he's unable to meet your gaze, your hurt eyes.

"What else is there?" he asks, voice cool, exhaling hard as he looks at you again, daring you to say more.

"I can't keep doing this," you laugh, bitterly, as you drop the bedsheets and stand, grabbing your bra, your underwear, furiously tugging them on. Usually you'd relish the feeling of his spend still lingering between your thighs, but now? Now it feels like a mockery, a sham. "You keep fucking- every time we- I can't live with this!"

"What?" he barks out, sitting up and yanking on his t-shirt. "Can't live with what, love? Hm?" He challenges, pulling on his boxers and standing, scowling at you.

"This!" You shriek, gesturing between you both. "You're my best friend and I- fuck, Bjorn, when was the last time we hung out and it wasn't for sex?"

"Y'say that like it's a bad thing."

"It's not, it's- I just miss you," you whisper, ducking your head down with a shaky exhale. The Bjorn of before, your best friend, he'd comfort you, would reach out and pull you into a hug. Would settle his hands on your shoulders and look into your eyes, telling you everything would be alright. Would press a kiss to your forehead before shoving you in the direction of the couch so you both could watch a shitty film.

This Bjorn, the one standing before you now? He makes no such moves. His fists clench and unclench by his sides, something flashing across his expression that you can't quite put a name to.

"Right here, aren't I?" he asks, voice hoarse, thick with emotion. His vulnerable eyes meet yours, a look you haven't seen from him in...

You reach out, cupping his cheek in your hand, gently brushing your thumb back and forth along his cheekbone. "Are you?"

He swallows, leaning his cheek into your hand before ripping himself away, back to you, his hand scratching at his scalp. "You should go," he mutters, staring holes into the pictures taped to his wall; years and years with his family and friends, group pictures, silly takes, you in his arms like you belong there. He squeezes his eyes shut tight, hands balling into fists by his sides again. "Y'know, 'fore your boyfriend comes home."

You say nothing. There is the shuffle of clothes being pulled on, the sound of his bedroom door opening and closing and then...

Silence.

"FUCK!" comes his shout, as he slams a balled up fist against the cool metal of his bedroom wall. He leans against it for a moment, ignoring the dull throbbing of his hand as he tries to regain his bearings.

It's impossible, when you've knocked him so off kilter.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Now.

"Fuckin'..." Bjorn slurs, as he leans against your kitchen counter. "Nice... nice dishtowel." he gestures, vaguely, at the pink thing neatly sat on your counter. It wasn't often that you saw a colour that wasn't some shade of brown, grey or beige. So you'd snatched it up at the market, unable to stop smiling that day.

"Thanks," you retort, sourly, arms crossed as you lean against your shitty kitchen table. "What do you want, Bjorn?"

"Can't a bloke cum'n'see his best mate?" he asks, giving you a cheeky grin.

Your eye twitches. As if that damn stupid smile was supposed to erase the last few weeks of torment you'd been putting each other through.

"You haven't said a nice word to me in about two months, you know that, right?"

"Oh, like you've been a ray of fuckin' sunshine lately, love." he shoots back, before taking one look at you and sighing, slumping and scrubbing his hands down his face. "I've missed ya, alright?" he mutters, stumbling on over to your couch and sitting down on it. "Fuckin'... Tyler, man, yappin' on boutcha... not his fuckin' best mate..." he crosses his arms, glumly slouching into the comfort of your couch.

"What the fuck has Tyler got to do with anything?" you ask, bewildered, blinking at him. "He's been a good friend, y'know? Actually asking how I'm doing and not telling me to go fuck myself-"

"Look so pretty with ya fingers inside'ya though," he smirks, bouncing his brows at you. Upon seeing your Medusa scowl, he immediately holds up his hands. "Sorry. Fuck, fuck- I promised myself I wouldn't do that-"

"What? Hit on me after weeks of not talking to me?" you snort, sitting down next to him, tentatively.

He nods, eagerly, reminding you of those little bobble head puppies you sometimes saw sitting on desks on offices. "Yeah! That! The fuckin'... deflection shit. I wanted ta... fuck, I'm sorry, love, alright? I just..."

He looks at you, with his hazy, half open eyes. He reaches out, gently clasping the back of your neck and leaning his forehead against yours, bringing you closer to him. Your heart skips.

Be it from the familiar warmth of him, or the glimpse of the old Bjorn, you're not sure.

"I've missed ya," he whispers, nudging his nose against yours. You try not to recoil from him, the smell of Aspen clinging to his breath. You'd always hated the smell of the beer, and with the baby-

It feels surreal, sitting in the presence of your best friend, your baby's father, and him being blissfully unaware of its existence.

"Missed ya so fuckin' much," he whispers, stroking his fingers along the nape of your neck. You fight back a shiver. "Fuckin'... don't feel like m'self these days, y'know? Like 'alf of me's missin' or summit, even though you're right there and- and fuck, why'dya have t'say it?" He slurs, damn near sobbing the last part out. "We were- we were fine 'till y'said it-"

"We weren't," you whisper, shaking your head and lurching back from him, forcing yourself to your feet. "We weren't, Bjorn! Neither of us could've kept going the way we were!"

"But we had each'otha-" he reaches out, grabbing your hands. "That was- was all I ever wanted-"

"It was all I wanted too," you whisper, giving his hand a squeeze. His palms are clammy, his fingers cold. You squeeze a little tighter, hoping to give him some warmth. "But it was killing us Bjorn. It was."

He lets out a choked sound, resting his forehead against your joined hands. "Why'dya hafta say it?"

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

10 weeks ago.

You lay side by side, panting, both slick with sweat. The room is silent save for your laboured breaths.

"Should we-"

"No." Bjorn grunts, pulling the sheets over his waist, eyes glued to the ceiling.

"Bjorn-" you protest, pushing yourself up, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth.

"Just slipped out, didn't it?" he asks, glancing at you, before flinching and returning his gaze to the ceiling. "Slip of the tongue. Happens to the best of us. Can pretend it never happened."

Silence.

He glances to you again, startled at the sight of tears rolling down your cheeks as you stare back at him.

"Fucksake-" he panics, sitting up, gently taking your face in his hands, wiping the tears from your face. "Y'alright-"

"I said I love you." you whisper, and it may as well be a shout from how hard he flinches as you say it. "I can't just- I can't just ignore that, Bjorn."

"Why?" he asks, desperately, searching your face. "We can just-"

"Go back to the way things were?" you finish, bitterly, and he ducks his head down. "I... I can't. I won't. We need to talk about this-"

"We don't!" he snaps, dropping his hands from your face in favour of carding them through his hair. "We're mates, that's all there is to it, ain't there?"

You shake your head, exhaling shakily. "You know as well as I do that that's not the case, not anymore. I love you and I- you love-"

"Don't fuckin' tell me how I feel!" he interrupts, scowling at you. "Don't you dare- I'm the only person who decides that, alright?!"

"Are-" you give him a once over, another tear streaking down your cheek. "Can you honestly tell me you don't feel the same? That this is just- just physical?"

Bjorn sighs heavily through his nose, not quite meeting your eyes. "Just mates, love." he mutters, picking at a loose piece of skin by one of his nails. "S'all there is to it. Nothing more."

"I love you." you repeat, oh so quietly, but you know he hears it. His flinch gives him away. You wait for him to say something, anything, you wait and wait and-

He says nothing back.

"We're done." you whisper, firmly, as you stand and redress, as he continues to pick at his skin and refuses to look at you. "You and me we're- this is over."

"Fine."

You feel like screaming, like grabbing him by the shoulders and demand he fights for you both, that he drops this bullshit facade he has up, that he just fucking admits it-

You do none of this.

You flee, instead, back to the safety of your own trailer.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Now.

"Because that's how I felt," you say, leaning down, pressing a kiss to his head. "Can't change any of it now, though."

"We were fine," he repeats, eyes damp as he looks up at you. "We..."

"Weren't."

He chokes back a sob, tugging insistently on your hand. You sit back down next to him, watching his face.

His beautiful, handsome face that even now still sends your heart skipping a beat or two.

"I..." he clutches your hand tight. "Fuck- messed up. I ruined-"

"You didn't feel the same, Bjorn," you sigh, giving him a tight smile. It still hurts, even now, after all these weeks. "That's... not a crime. I just think it could've been handled better."

"But I do!" he snaps, squeezing your hand. "I fuckin'- christ, love, I've been mental 'boutcha for years-"

Instead of skipping a beat, your heart stops. Drops to your stomach entirely as you listen to him, as you watch him. He's drunk. So very drunk.

What he's saying, it's everything you'd been hoping for, that you've dreamed of...

You reach out, pressing a finger to his lips.

But it isn't right.

"No," you say softly, shaking your head. "No. Tell me when you sober up, okay? I don't... I don't wanna hear it from you like this."

He blinks at you, oh so confused... before nodding, pecking your finger. "Okay..."

You stand, scrubbing a hand down your face. "Sleep on the couch tonight, okay? I'll talk to you in the morning."

"Okay." He repeats, nodding still. Your lips quirk up a little, as you toss a blanket his way.

"Shoes off."

"Okay."

That gets your snorting. He blinks innocently at you, toeing off his boots.

"Night, Bjorn."

"Okay..." he slurs, already half asleep and tangled with the blanket you'd tossed his way.

Your eyes linger on him a moment before you head to your bedroom, before you curl up on your bed and resist the urge to cry all over him again.

He won't be there in the morning. You know it.

#alien romulus #alien #bjorn alien romulus #bjorn alien romulus x reader #bjorn x reader #spike fearn

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makeyoumine69 · 2 months ago

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Lost Memory (Memory Reboot x4)

PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader x Timothy Bryce

SUMMARY: Two lost souls, both broken and neglected, knowing they were never meant to be, found solace in each other just for one night.

CONTAINS: SMUT, angst, depression, obsessive thoughts, mentions of death, canon violence, tainted love, blow jobs, face-sitting, hand jobs, unprotected sex, cum swallowing, dirty talk, pet names, sensual foreplay, rimming, intoxication, praise kink.

WORDS: 4.5k

SONG REC: VØJ, Narvent — Lost Memory

A/N: Hello everyone, the new chapter is finally here! I'm sorry for the wait, but I hope you like it!

LINKS: [MASTERLIST]; [SERIES MASTERLIST].

Cool New York night air enveloped your shivering frame the moment you walked outside, leaving the noisy wedding party behind the walls of the luxurious Ziegfeld Ballroom. Slowly breathing in the fresh air, you closed your eyes and threw your head back a little to come back to your senses—you were literally broken to pieces, to say the least—your heart was pounding painfully in your chest and at some point you wished it would stop beating, thinking that it would end everything and finally set you free from all this pain and suffering.

Hugging yourself, you took a few weak strides towards the street where cars were speeding by. Just one step, and tomorrow all the newspapers would report that there had been an accident in Manhattan right next to the Ziegfeld Ballroom where the pompous wedding of our Wall Street golden boy was taking place. You laughed to yourself at all this nonsense, how did you ever get into such a situation? Being completely sober, the realization of what you were thinking hit you even harder than if you were drunk or high, but now you were completely lucid, able to feel every twinge of pain.

Bewildered, you watched the yellow cars go by, sometimes you could see the impassive faces of the passengers inside. All this reminded you of a movie whose name you could never really remember. But it was definitely not a comedy or a drama. Maybe it was a documentary about someone's life... a tragic life?

With a sad sigh, you were about to sit down on the curb when you heard loud footsteps behind you and turned around to see a familiar silhouette approaching.

"Bateman?" You asked, stunned. "What are you doing here?"

The man didn't answer, as if he hadn't noticed you at all, casually pulling a cigar out of the pocket of his Prada coat that he wore over his wedding tuxedo, and for a second you thought it was just an illusion your sick mind managed to maintain to keep your psyche from collapsing.

After lighting his cigar, Patrick made a long drag before finally giving you an agonizing stare. "Just wanted to have some fresh air..." he paused, his white teeth clenching around the cigar, making his jawline look so sharp that even in the dark you could see it. "Plus, Evelyn didn't want me to smoke inside. We just got married and she's already making scenes."

You wanted to say something, but stopped at the last moment—his hazel eyes suddenly took your breath away—leaving you completely speechless.

"And you," Bateman continued as he came closer, his elegant figure looking so seductive in the dim light. "I can't believe you left all your business in Chicago just to come here and get squashed like a fucking cockroach!"

"What? What are you talking about?" You asked in a shaky tone, your temples pulsating with a strange tension that made you want to massage them. "What the fuck do you want from me?"

Patrick grinned wickedly as he leveled himself with you, the difference in height only adding to the menace of his appearance. "Tell me one thing, (y/n)," he whispered above your cheek, keeping the mere distance between the two of you. "Did you really think I'd dream of you coming back to me?"

You closed your eyes involuntarily, every word he said bringing the most inhuman pain you had ever felt. "S-stop," you replied, stepping back. "Shut... shut your damn mouth!"

"Ohhh," he cooed at you in a mocking way, which drove you crazy, but then he blew some smoke right in your face, which made you want to punch him in the chest. "You just have to accept that you lost," Bateman suddenly grabbed the collar of your coat to pull you closer. "Just accept that you fell in love with a man who doesn't give a fuck about you."

On the verge of tears, you didn't even struggle as the ground beneath your feet suddenly began to disappear. "I... I will not give you the satisfaction of hating you... you f-fucking bastard!"

Without thinking, you spat right into his smug face and before you knew it, his strong arms were wrapped around your trembling neck, almost straddling you so you couldn't even make a sound. Everything around you began to blur, and the last moment you remembered before passing out was Patrick's menacing laugh as he pushed you right out into the road in front of the speeding car. A fatal blow hit your body, a screeching sound of tires rang in your ears and you screamed in pain, choking on your own breath.

And then the darkness finally took you.

At least you thought so until you heard a familiar male voice calling out to you, and no, it wasn't Patrick. No way, if you were really going to die, you wished you would never meet him in the place you were going to transfer to. No doubt, that son of a bitch would burn in hell while you would end up in heaven. Somehow you were sure of that.

"Jesus, (y/n), will you stop yelling?" The grumpy voice called out to you again.

You blinked several times before opening your eyes to see the opulent interior around you. And who said that heaven was somewhere in the sky where angels were flying around promising a peaceful afterlife?

"Welcome back," the dark-haired man chuckled, swirling his drink in his hand. "I told you not to mix too many cocktails."

Cocktails?

You recoiled as if from an electric shock as you suddenly heard your inner voice, seemingly silent for centuries. Rubbing your eyes, you tried to get up, but the next moment you fell back onto something soft, which seemed to be a car seat, considering you definitely heard the engine rumble, so you were definitely in someone's car. Another attempt to get up was more successful and you took your time exploring the surroundings, and when you managed to get a good look at the person sitting on the opposite side of you, your heart did a flip-flop in your chest.

"Bryce?" You couldn't believe your eyes at first, but when you saw his cheeky grin, you knew it was really him.

"You drifted off right after we got in, so I decided not to wake you," Timothy replied nonchalantly before taking a sip of his drink. "Nice limo? Evelyn and Bateman were supposed to be in it, but then he told me they were leaving in a fucking helicopter," the man laughed, almost dropping the glass. "A fucking helicopter, can you believe that?"

Your head was spinning, making it difficult to process the information. Grunting, you pressed your hand to your forehead, trying to remember how you got in here in the first place.

"Ohhh...my head," you hissed, almost kicking the tray of drinks that was on the small table built into the limo door. "What...what happened after the ceremony ended," your question left Tim speechless and for a moment you both remained silent. "Bryce?"

Timothy frowned and placed the empty glass on his knee. "Are you kidding?"

"For God's sake, Bryce!" You suddenly raised your voice, but the next second you hissed in pain. "Can... can you just fucking tell me what the hell am I doing here?"

"You're asking me that?" Bryce tilted his head as he watched you try to sit comfortably. "Come on, (y/n), this isn't funny anymore. Besides, I warned you not to drink too much."

Tsk... I can't remember a damn thing.

When you managed to sit up straight, you pressed yourself against the cold window and sighed in relief. "And what exactly did...we drink?"

The man scoffed. "I told you...you had several cocktails, but that was not enough...so you decided to finish everything the bar had."

"Ahh, screw you! I don't believe a word you're saying," you threw one leg over the other, watching the blinding lights of oncoming traffic. "Where are we going?!"

"Where? Jeez, if you can't drink, you better not even try," Tim replied curtly, his voice changing, now devoid of any sass. "We're going to my place."

"What?"

"Stop fucking pretending you don't remember," the man barked, squirming in his seat, the glass felt on the soft floor of the limo, thankfully it didn't break. "Do you know how deranged you are? You talked in your sleep-"

"I didn't!" You tried to interrupt him, completely embarrassed. "Take another glass and-"

"No, no, no, hold on!" Bryce leaned forward to get closer so you could see his face more clearly. "Did I hit the nerve?"

Yes, you did. You fucking did.

If only you could really confess and open up to him without fear of being accused or whatever. Would it even be right to tell Tim everything that happened between you and Patrick? When you were so close to telling him all the things that were bothering you, your voice suddenly disappeared, as if some invisible force was choking you from within. Only after a few minutes did you manage to speak, feeling Timothy's piercing gaze.

"Was it Evelyn who invited you to the wedding?" Your question surprised him, you could tell by the way he leaned back in his seat. "I'm just curious...because she invited me."

Every time Evelyn was mentioned, something changed in his expression, and you couldn't really find the right word to describe it—it was something much stronger than the usual sadness people always talked about—something that made you sad, too.

"Let's say," his lips curled into a wry smile and you couldn't take your eyes off them, they were beautiful and alluring. "I don't remember."

"You don't remember or...you don't want to remember?" You opened your coat, suddenly feeling suffocated in your clothes.

Bryce furrowed his thick eyebrows, looked down at the empty glass on the floor, as did you, and then your fingers touched as you both leaned down to pick it up. Tim's skin was not as soft as Patrick's, it felt completely different, it made you want to explore it more, to touch it, to taste it, as if it was your own personal forbidden fruit.

Without saying a word, Tim quickly pulled away and took the glass to place it on the tray next to the others, the amber liquid in them making them look like they were made of gold. There was no room for any more talk as the two of you pulled each other into a furious kiss, you let him place his hand at the base of your neck, drawing you closer and soon you were sitting on top of him, gasping into his mouth. Bryce's slightly flushed face made it impossible to think of Bateman, even though his image tried to appear every time you briefly opened your eyes.

Leave... me... alone!

You almost growled aloud, but Tim's eager tongue prevented you from doing so, as he used it to shut you up completely, licking your mouth from the inside while his hands slid down your back to your ass, massaging it, and when you thought he was going to slap it, he just gave it a playful squeeze.

"Jesus, Bryce," you whispered against his red lips, swollen from your kisses. "I didn't know you could be so sweet."

Tim craned his neck and you seized the moment to leave a wet hickey on his smooth skin, he smelled so good you thought you could just snuggle into his chest and sniff his scent. And why did you even bother with these childish, silly games with Bateman? Unfortunately, some questions never had answers, but it didn't matter now. Not when you could find comfort in the arms of Patrick's best friend.

God, I wish you could see me right now.

"There's so little you know about me, baby." He chirped before helping you take off your coat, his impatience turning you on wildly.

With a soft giggle, you unbuttoned your shirt. "Huh, baby? Really? And I thought you were the type who didn't use such primitive nicknames."

Smirking, you teased him with the slow rocking of your hips against his, feeling his hard length pressed against your burning core, and it spurred you to move faster, more erratically, as you unexpectedly became as impatient as he was. And even though you didn't like losing control, you wanted to get lost right now, even though you'd probably regret it tomorrow, but at least the regret would be different.

Nibbling at the artery on your neck, Timothy grabbed your ass tighter to make the friction more vivid, his finger digging into the expensive material of your Gucci pants. "I can call you anything you want," he growled into your collarbone, your shirt half undone. "Just tell me what you want to be tonight?"

"I can be anything," you caught his warm lips with your own to kiss him again in a way that bordered on desperation, as if your life depended on it, and he responded with the same ferocity. "Anything you want..."

Chuckling at your cheeky statement, the man lounged in his seat and looked at you up and down, admiring the way your clothes were disheveled, your hair was nothing like it had been when you had just arrived at the wedding and even your feelings were different. Everything was different now, the whole world seemed to diminish to the size of the interior of the limousine and you both wanted this moment to last forever, but you knew it was impossible.

Bryce decided to use his mouth in a more effective way than just talking, latching it around your nipple through your shirt, but then taking it off completely and swirling his tongue around your hard tip.

"Don't be anything," he quickly unbuckled his belt and pulled out his hard cock. "Just be mine tonight."

You couldn't hide a smile of genuine satisfaction as his words struck a chord in your chest. "Deal."

With that, you carefully rose from his lap to position yourself between his wide-open legs, watching him touch himself with pure abandon. And yet, everything about Tim was far too alien, your mind kept bringing back the memories of what had happened in the bathroom a few hours ago. It hurt, it hurt so much that you almost chewed your cheek to the point of blood to hold back the tears. Bryce, you had to focus on Bryce, he was here, right in front of you, all spread out and pumping his thick cock.

Stop thinking about Bateman!

"Are you sure you know what to do?" Timothy glared down at you, concerned by the sudden change in your demeanor.

Shaking yourself off, you smiled in reply and before you knew it, your hand was sliding along his, then completely replacing it and stroking his dick vigorously, smearing his dense pre-cum all along your hand.

"Watch me," you murmured and lowered yourself even more to take him in your mouth, savoring his salty taste. "Mhhm...fuck, Bryce, you taste so good."

Tim couldn't stop himself from moaning, grabbing the edge of the seat and closing his eyes in ecstasy. "Keep going," he purred, fighting the urge to fuck your throat. "Shit... Bateman doesn't even know what he lost."

Bryce's words almost made you choke on his beefy shaft, but it only took a moment to pull yourself together and just enjoy the way his dick slid in and out of your mouth. As the man pushed himself further, the tip brushing against your throat, you leaned against his hips for support, allowing him to have his way with you. Just the sight of him made you tremble with desire, as you had never really thought that Tim could be so hot, not that you had any doubts that he was a skilled lover, but reality never ceased to surprise you.

"I...I'm so fucking close...uh," his voice dropped even lower, eloquent proof of his words. "Your mouth...arhhh...you know how to work magic with your mouth, babe."

Although you had always denied having a praise kink, being with Tim was the first time you were truly willing to admit that you did have a praise kink. Every little praise he gave you was like balm to your broken soul, encouraging you to suck him harder, to drink him dry. These two men were far too unlike each other, but in the end, you seemed to crave them both.

Being so close to falling apart, Bryce couldn't control himself any more and took a handful of your hair and plunged full length into your bruised mouth until you both noticed that the car had stopped. Tim swore loudly but that didn't stop you and the next thing you remembered was feeling thick ropes of his hot cum shooting down your throat and you could swear it tasted so fucking sweet. Maybe you were delusional, maybe it was just another hallucination–you didn't care because you were high like no drugs could make you.

I'll remember that taste for sure.

A little later, you didn't know exactly how much time had passed, and you didn't recollect how the two of you had gotten into Bryce's apartment. You didn't care about the luxury of this place, how expensive the furniture was, how soft the silk sheets were when you fell on them, your naked skin sliding along the cold material like a ship on waves. You were about to lose all connection to reality when Tim climbed on top of you, his hairy chest rubbing against yours, your legs wrapped around his waist and you couldn't stifle a moan as his leaky dick rubbed against your legs.

Creasing the sheets, you raked your hand through his black, tousled hair, pulling him closer so that your lips could collide in a hunger kiss. "Fuck me, Tim," you murmured unexpectedly, brushing your feet against his hips. "Fuck me like there's no tomorrow."

"Are you always this needy?" He teased, biting your lower lip and licking it after a quick nibble. "Or is it because of me?"

Perplexed, you stopped doing anything as his words left you pondering. "I... I don't know... I don't know who I really am..."

Bryce nodded without saying anything, his nose touching yours in a brief moment of genuine affection, and somehow you thought he understood everything, that he could read you like an open book and there was no need for you to explain. Pecking your cheek, the man slowly turned you over on your stomach and you quickly got down on all fours because you couldn't wait any longer. Bucking your hips, you turned around to see him positioning himself behind you, his warm palm caressing your ass before a finger probed your tight hole, making you gasp but you didn't falter, showing him how ready and eager you were.

"Uhh," Tim stroked himself several times before aligning himself with your opening and diving in with a slow, deliberate thrust. "Fuck...mmhm-fuck."

The mere thought that he had been imagining Evelyn all this time, starting with you giving him head, suddenly made you angry, and for a brief second you allowed yourself to imagine that it was Patrick who was stretching you from the inside, but somehow you began to feel even worse.

"I'm sorry...I'm not Evelyn," you blurted out without thinking. "But I..."

"Shut up," he cut you off and slammed into you relentlessly, forcing you to take him, no matter how painful it was. "I don't want to hear about her...not even a thing."

Bryce was right, it was so fucking stupid of you to bring Evelyn at such a moment, but it was so hard for you to think clearly and Tim's fat cock didn't help at all, the fullness it gave you was completely overwhelming. It made you forget everything and you didn't even want to compare your sensation with the way Patrick made you feel - your mind was finally free of any emotions or thoughts–you were drowning in a carnal lust. You were both extremely vocal, poor neighbors who could hear you at this hour, but Timothy seemed to be completely indifferent as he set the pace, pounding into you with all his might, each stroke full of desperation and unbridled passion.

By the time dawn broke, you couldn't remember how many orgasms you'd both had, as you'd probably tried every possible and impossible position. You managed to be on your knees for him, under him, on top of him. It was madness you never thought you were capable of. As you rode his face, touching yourself, you cried out Bryce's name, not even afraid to accidentally use Patrick's name instead.

"Tim...mhmm-fuck...Tim...I'mma cum!" You fisted his hair, sliding along his glistening face as you rubbed your most sensitive spot. "Fuck...yeahh-Tim...ahhh!"

Shaking, you cum around his face, feeling his strong tongue move inside your tight ass as your inner channel spasmed around it, causing him to moan and hold you close to prolong your climax. Time stopped for both of you with the last stroke of his tongue along your tender flesh and you both collapsed exhausted on the bed.

The first rays of the sun awoke you earlier than you could have imagined. As you lazily got up from the bed, trying not to disturb Tim snoring peacefully, you checked the time before you started looking for your clothes. To be honest, you wanted to stay here in his bed and continue to sleep in his arms, but you knew it would only lead to destruction and you were sure that Bryce thought the same.

Maybe it was a mistake?

Frowning, you wanted to punch yourself for being so reckless and stupid, but Tim's loud exhale caught your attention. You turned to check on him before leaving his bedroom to quickly get dressed and use the bathroom. All the while, you tried to ignore your own reflection, feeling the shame and contempt eating away at you from within, though you didn't even understand why. Bryce wanted this to happen as much as you did, but no matter how hard you tried to reassure yourself, it just didn't seem right. After one last look in the large mirror above the sink, you left the bathroom and soon after you left Timothy's apartment.

The taxi ride back to the Plaza Hotel didn't take long as it was only six in the morning. Looking out the window, you saw rare pedestrians walking here and there, some of them holding newspapers that you were sure were the New York Times. The tops of the skyscrapers were about to reach the sky, and every time you craned your neck to look at them, your head began to spin. All these little details made you realize that you missed New York and probably your former life?

Was it worth it leaving everything behind?

This question kept swirling around in your head even as you finally got back into your suit and decided to take a shower to clean up after such a wild day. Dear God, you just fucked two different men in one day.

"I'm so pathetic..." You muttered to yourself as you stood under the hot water. "What am I going to do now?"

Pressing your head against the wet tiled wall, you gave up and let the tears flow down your face, the water washing them away in an instant. You felt guilty, thinking that you'd only used Bryce for your own needs, knowing that it wouldn't lead to anything serious, but you did it anyway. It was so damn selfish. But then you remembered the words Patrick had said to you in the bathroom just before the ceremony started. You clenched your hand into a fist and the next second you slammed it into the wall with all the strength you had. The blow was so strong that your hand began to bleed, but you ignored it because physical pain was nothing compared to the emptiness inside your soul. As if under a spell, you kept hitting the wall, leaving bloodstains on it.

Five hours later, you are sitting in the restaurant area of the Plaza, waiting for Paul Allen to join you for lunch. Since you had some time before your flight to Chicago, you thought it would be good to catch up with him and talk a little about your current situation at your new job.

Maybe I can get a fresh start here...

Rocking in your seat, you looked down at your bruised hand, which was covered in a tight white bandage, and luckily you managed to stop the bleeding without going to the hospital, but you were still a little nervous, though not because of your wound. What if Paul would tell you that there was no way you could return to New York because the company in Chicago wouldn't let you go? You tapped your fingers on the table in anxiety before picking up the New York Times to distract yourself. One page, then another, until an interesting article appeared in your vision–a luxurious tobacco store in Upper Manhattan had been robbed–the very store you always liked to visit and even dreamed of buying a collection of cigars to give to Patrick...

"(Y/n)! How have you been?" Paul's cheerful voice echoed across the room and when you turned to face him, you noticed that he looked even more tanned than the last time you saw him.

"Oh, hi," you accepted his handshake and then Allen took a seat across from you. "I've been better," your other hand was still holding a newspaper and it caught Paul's attention. "What about you?"

Paul nodded in understanding. "Well, my job kicks my ass, is all I can say," he laughed, and before you could say anything else, he pointed to the copy of the New York Times. "What are you reading?"

Slightly embarrassed, you folded the paper and put it aside. "Times," you replied briefly. "The tobacco store I liked to visit was robbed in broad daylight. Can you imagine that?"

Allen shifted in his seat. "I didn't know you frequented places like this," he chuckled, finally opening the menu. "Because I don't remember you smoking."

Smirking, you leaned back in your chair. "You don't know anything about me, Allen," you took a sip of your wine and watched him tense up a bit. "Anyway, I just got a little upset because I wanted to buy something in this store for..." you suddenly stammered, feeling dizzy.

"For...?" Paul arched his eyebrows and looked at you suspiciously.

"For a person... ," you finished. "...a very special one."

"Your date?" The man asked in a playful tone. "And who might that be?"

You found this situation quite ironic, because you really imagined yourself going to that store and buying those fucking cigars, hoping they would impress Bateman, and now you ended up fucking his best friends because he married Evelyn Williams.

As you propped yourself up on your elbow, you suddenly started to laugh, but then it turned into a pathetic whimper. "I'm so fucked up, Allen," you shook your head and gripped the table. "You can't even imagine how... fucked up... I am."

And I don't know how I'm going to survive this.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

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sopebubbles · 2 years ago

Text

Three

Masterlist

Synopsis: in a world where alphas, betas, and omegas live along side modern humans as second class citizens, you've fallen through the cracks of a society that wants to take everything wonderful from you. Luckily a timely encounter with the boys just might save your life.

Chapter summary: The boys talk to you for the first time, but that doesn't really make anything any better.

Warnings: this chapter contains explicit depictions of child ab*se, including physical violence and abusive language, please take care. The tough parts take place in a flashback in italics. otherwise you should be okay.

wc: ~5k

When you first gained some consciousness, your primary thought was that you felt like shit. Were you sick? Or was this just what heat felt like? You had not let yourself go into heat in so long, not since you came to this city almost two years ago. You didn't remember it feeling like this. Painful? Yes. The ache you felt now was different and worse than pain you usually associated with this event, but at least you knew you hadn't been fucked within an inch of your life. No, your sex ached for something it hadn't received.

Knot. Knot. Need a knot. Your inner voice chanted, desperate to have your needs met, to feel your body full of something. You groaned and rolled to your stomach. Moving only made the ache worse and drew attention to other problems. You were soaked. Your torso, neck and face felt sticky with tacky sweat. Your thighs even more so with thick, sweet smelling slick that leaked out of you all night long.

Disgusting. That was the other voice in your head, the one that told you to deny every stupid, foolish need your body had because they only hurt you. Filthy animal. Admittedly, that voice did not sound like your own, but rang with the echo of multitudes.

You wanted to get up and clean yourself off, but your body was weak and tired. Taking a deep breath to gather your strength, you caught several scents. Citrus and lavender. Leather and cotton. Something else too, maybe pine nuts. And over everything a heady sweetness. The voices in your head argued.

Alpha.

Several. Run. Hide.

Find alpha.

Not safe.

You wanted to listen to them both but instead you just took another breath in and fell asleep.

The next time you regained consciousness it was because something cool and wet was licking your body. No not licking, but definitely wet. Your eyes jolted awake and you looked up directly into the eyes of another omega. You could tell by the softness of his cheeks and by the warm brown sugar coming from the scent gland in his wrist, right under your nose. He was wiping the sweat from your skin with a damp cloth.

"Hello, little pup." His voice was soft but there was no expression on his face to tell you his intentions or if he was a threat. But he was a stranger so you immediately began to squirm away. That was when you realized you were entirely naked, mostly covered with a blanket but still bare underneath. The man sighed and put down the wash cloth picking up a different piece of fabric. "Here, you can put this on," he said, holding out a shirt for you.

You took it from his hands and used it to cover your chest while you waited for him to move, to leave or at least turn around. When you only stared at him for several seconds he smirked.

"Honey, you're the one who took your shirt off and begged me to remove your bra last night. Don't get shy now."

You looked around the room, but no one else was there to witness your shame. Still there were so many smells around the bare room. Sweet scents worn into the mattress from the Lykos who slept here, their owners must be around somewhere. The man sighed again while he stood. "I'll give you a few minutes to get yourself together. There are a pair of boxer shorts here. Sorry, there aren't any ladies in this house to borrow from. I'm Hoseok by the way. I'll come back in a few minutes and we'll have a talk about what's going on." He left and closed the door behind him without waiting for your response.

It took a second to shake off the surprise after he'd gone, but once you did, you picked up the damp cloth he'd left on the bed and continued cleaning yourself. He had not yet cleaned your chest and after taking care of that you wiped up the mess between your legs, shuttering at the sensitivity there. You pulled the shirt over your head and then moved to the edge of the bed to stand and put the shorts on. But your legs trembled weakly and you sank back to the bed. That shot any plan of running out of here. As you tried to think of what to do, a knock came and the door opened before you could answer.

Hoseok returned with two other men, but he let them pass and remained by the door, which he left ajar. You moved back into the bed to create some distance between you as the taller man sat at the end of the bed.

"Y/N, my name is Jungkook. I'm a police officer. And this Jimin. We found you on the street last night and we brought you to our home. You're safe here." His voice was smooth and kind in a way that had your inner voice purring, begging to bring his familiar scent closer so you could slip back down into the gooey softness of heat.

"Am I in trouble?" You asked in a quiet voice.

"Of course not, pup. We just want to help," the smaller one, Jimin, did with a smile.

"How do you know my name?"

Jungkook blushed. "Full disclosure: we went through your things last night trying to find your pack."

"I don't have a pack," you informed them quickly. Jungkook nodded with what seemed like regret. He had clearly been able to learn that much on his own. "Where's my bag?"

Jimin bent over behind the foot of the bed to pick up your oversized black purse and handed it to you. You dug inside until you found the clattering bottle of pills and pulled it out. "Those won't do you any good now," he commented as you tried to take the cap off. Even your hands felt weakened. You paused and eventually lowered them to your lap.

"Just as well. I hate these things. They make me so sick."

Jimin took a subtle step closer and put his hands in his pockets to show he wasn't a threat. "Then why do you take them?"

You're quiet for a second. That was an incredibly personal question to ask a stranger. "Because it's better than feeling like this."

Jimin looked like he wanted to ask more questions in this vein, but he held back in favor of letting Jungkook speak. "Is there anyone you can call who can look after you?" You avoided their eyes as you shook your head. "In that case, our pack alpha and pack omega have agreed to let you stay until you've recovered."

Your eyes snapped up to the omega by the door. He was the only one you'd smelled here. You took a breath in through your nose, and you weren't sure before but you were confident now that there were four alphas living in this house, although only three of them seemed to be outside the door. The citrus one you smelled so close last night was missing. Danger. You brought your knees up and hugged them protectively.

"I have somewhere to go."

"The True Life Ministry?" Jimin asked. You nodded your head. "They won't take you in like this," he told you, but you already knew that.

"This could last three or four more days. Minimum," Hoseok reminded you. You closed your eyes and let the misery of that truth wash over you.

"We can't reasonably let you go out on your own in your condition, Y/N. You might not remember, but Jimin and I found you in a very dangerous situation last night. It would be much safer for you if you stayed here. I will personally ensure your protection."

You looked up to meet Jungkook's doe eyes and found them full of sincerity, begging you to do the one thing you were never able to: trust him. But you'd already learned yourself that you wouldn't be able to get far on your own, and you knew exactly what kind of awful things could and would happen to you if you stayed out on the street. So trust them or not, you knew you had no other choice. You nodded your agreement.

"I'm supposed to work the next two nights," you said quietly, not sure why you thought you needed to tell them.

"Someone can call them and tell them you won't be able to make it," Hoseok offered.

You sighed. "That's okay. I'm probably fired after not showing up last night anyway."

"Our pack alpha is a lawyer. He can be very persuasive." His eyes focused outside the door, presumably to look at said alpha.

You tried to swallow around the lump in your throat. "Your alphas. There are…"

"Four of them," he told you. "They won't disturb you. They're forbidden from coming in and you don't have to see them if you don't want to."

You nodded but your mind was at war with itself once again.

Alpha. Need alpha. Please.

Too many. Too dangerous. They only want to breed you like an animal.

But you could be so warm, so full. You need them close. Ask them to come in. Please.

The silence in the room made the air stale the longer you fought with yourself, and when you finally looked up it was clear they had all taken note of your disturbance.

"Thank you," you managed to say, not because you truly felt grateful but because you wanted desperately for everyone to leave.

Hoseok cleared his throat. "Okay, well, I'll get you something to eat while you're still lucid." It was difficult to predict the ebb and flow of heat, but this break wouldn't last much longer. Normally, during his heats, the pack would be there to care for him and ply him with food and water to keep his strength up, but it didn't seem like that was going to work for you and by the time the next wave of senselessness hit you, you wouldn't be able to feed yourself.

Jungkook and Jimin backed out of the room and Hoseok followed behind, leaving you alone again. He walked to the kitchen to prepare you a bowl of stew. He'd gotten up early this morning to prepare it so that it would be ready when you came around. Taehyung came to stand beside him at the stove.

"Do you think that went okay?" He asked, hoping that Hoseok could report something different in what he saw from what Tae had smelled in the tangy apple cider vinegar scent coming from you by the end of the conversation.

"It's hard to tell, Tae," Hoseok hedged. "It seemed like the idea of so many alphas around made her a little nervous."

Taehyung let out a dejected little 'oh.'

"It's probably best to keep your distance, baby," the omega warned softly. It had tugged at his heartstrings the night before when his youngest alpha had suggested that maybe a good cuddle would help a little bit, but it seemed clear now that would only freak you out. "I'm sorry."

Taehyung shrugged his shoulders. "It's okay. I don't want her to be uncomfortable. It just seems wrong for her to be alone like that, you know?" He held a hand to his chest as if he really felt the pain of it in his heart.

Hoseok reached up to pet his messy hair. "What a good alpha I have. I would never be able to resist your cuddles."

Taehyung preened at the praise, musky leather scent enveloping him.

"I need to do a few things. You eat and when I'm done we can cuddle and watch something, okay?" Tae nodded silently and took the bowl that was offered before Hoseok filled another one.

This time he didn't knock before entering your room and found you sitting in the same protective position he had left you in. He set the bowl down on the table beside your bed and moved away. You looked between the bowl and him but did not move to grab it until he turned his back to you. He heard you sniff it and hum softly to yourself before the spoon began to clink against the porcelain. You began to take greedy spoonfuls of the hot stew while he walked back into the hallway. From the linen closet in the hallway Hoseok gathered several beloved blankets and fresh sheets. When he returned to the room you were slurping up the thick broth from the bottom of the bowl and set it aside with sheepish eyes, as if he would take such behavior as anything but a compliment.

"Do you want some more?" He asked, but you shook your head. He had a whole pack to feed and you shouldn't take too much. "If you get up for a minute I'll change the sheets."

"You don't have to do that!" Something in your belly felt deep shame knowing how they smelled of your heat and the mess you had made.

"Don't be silly. There's no point in staying in messy sheets. And you don't need to feel embarrassed about it. We all do it. That's why I always keep a lot of clean sheets." You lowered your face at how easily he had seen through you, but got off the bed when he waved a hand at you. "And I brought lots of blankets. Unless you're more of a pillows kind of girl. I'm sure I can find a few spare ones."

"Pillows for what?" You stared at him blankly as he began to strip everything from the bed.

"For your nest, pup."

"Oh. That's okay. I don't nest."

"Jimin said you're not allowed at the shelter, but you are here!" Hoseok said cheerfully, the mere thought of building a cozy nest to sink into filling him with joy.

"No, I mean I don't at all," you replied, and he paused to turn to you.

"Never?" You shook your head. "Why not?"

You scratched your nails up and down your arm, squirmy under his scrutiny and shaky on your legs. Hoseok dropped the spoiled sheets on the floor and when it seemed like you wouldn't answer while he watched you, he picked up a clean sheet and began to stretch it over the mattress.

"It's bad for you, isn't it? I mean, they say it's unhygienic. And it makes omegas lazy."

Hoseok scoffed and turned to give you an incredulous look. "Who told you that?"

You shrugged. You'd heard it at home and probably at school more than once. The few times you had tried to nest they had told you they didn't want it or a lazy omega.

Hoseok was speechless. Who would have told you something so plainly untrue? Nesting was an important part of emotional well being for omegas. It was harder not to do than to do. It was important for the pack, too, making sure that all members had a comfortable place to rest. Making sure that all scents were present was important to maintaining bonds and bringing comfort. How could you deny yourself such a basic need?

Not knowing what to say, he simply finished putting the sheets on the bed. When he was finished he took the old sheets under one arm and grabbed the empty bowl with his free hand. He stopped to look at the pile of blankets and then at you with troubled eyes.

"I'll just leave these here in case you want to give it a try." Maybe your omega instincts would kick in during your frenzy when you couldn't meet your other needs.

Hoseok left without closing the door and walked briskly to the kitchen, catching Seokjin’s attention from where he sat searching for something to watch on Netflix. He was trying hard to pretend it was just a normal Saturday in an attempt to keep everyone calm. When he heard the bowl clatter carelessly in the sink he moved Namjoon's feet from his lap and got to his feet. Namjoon followed puppishly at his heels since comforting his distressed omega was a better distraction than the book he was trying and failing to read.

"What's wrong?" Jin asked when he found Hoseok in the laundry holding the bundled sheets, staring blankly into the washer. "Sweetheart?" He took the dirty cloth away gently and put them aside so that he could pull his mate close and look him in the eyes.

It took him a moment to find his voice. "She said that nesting is bad."

Jin scrunched his face in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"She said she doesn't nest ever, because someone told her it was bad for her."

Jin shook his head. "That's crazy. Why would anyone say that?"

"I don't know," Hoseok said, shaking his head. "Jin, it's like she's totally broken. Like she doesn't even know how to be an omega."

"Maybe she never had one," Namjoon offered from behind them. "I see it with my students. They're adopted out by saps when they don't have packs who can care for them, or if they don't think the pack is doing things right, and they're told all their instincts are wrong and that they need to fight them."

The omega looked at him with a horrified expression. "Why?"

Namjoon shrugged. "There are saps who think we live on the line between humans and animals, and if they can convince us to give up our 'animal ways' then we can find a way to being human."

"That's sick."

"You have no idea," Namjoon mumbled as he looked down at the sheets that were somehow now in his hands.

Hoseok forgot his shock for a moment to level a stare at the alpha. "Namjoon, what are you doing?"

"Hm?" The man struggled to tear his eyes away to look at his mate.

"Go on. Sniff them. I dare you."

Namjoon hesitated. This was a trick and he knew it, but your scent was so goddamn inviting. Slowly he lifted the bundle toward his face.

But Hoseok snatched it from his grasp before he could and threw it in the washer. "You are a fucking animal," he grumbled.

After he got the washer running he took Seokjin back to the spare room with him. The alphas had agreed to use the scent blockers they found in your bag–Yoongi was the only person who used them regularly at work, but never kept any at home, though he promised to pick some up to replace the ones they were using. It wasn't perfect, but it did enough to keep them sane around you.

Once again, Hoseok entered the doorway of your room but didn't come much closer. You had taken precisely one of the soft blankets he had offered you and wrapped it around your shoulders before positioning yourself in the exact center of the mattress. He could see you shake slightly and the expanding of your pupils told him you had mere minutes left before you'd be insensible again. He wanted nothing more than to take every blanket he had given you and build you the coziest nest he'd ever made, just to show you how it's done. But even then, he knew it wouldn't be a great nest if you were in it all alone. His heart sank into his stomach. You blinked at him as he remembered his purpose.

"This is our pack alpha, Seokjin. Would you like him to call your job and see if you can work something out?"

Seokjin gave you a gentle smile and a wave from the hallway. The boundaries had been clearly drawn for him and he would not cross that threshold as long as you were there, except in a life or death situation.

You shrugged noncommittally. You didn't meet the alpha's eyes. "I don't know where my phone is."

Hoseok took a few steps closer to hold it out to you. "Taehyung charged it last night. That's why it wasn't in your bag," he admitted.

You took the device to unlock it and quickly choose the correct number before handing it back. Maybe you knew you were close to dropping and wouldn't be able to participate in the call yourself. Hoseok handed the phone off to his alpha and Jin pressed the button before putting the phone on speaker. After several rings, a gruff voice answered.

“Hello, I am calling on behalf of Y/N,” Jin started tentatively. He hadn’t prepared.

The person on the other end paused for a long moment before responding, “yeah?”

Jin cleared his throat. “Yes, well, I’m calling to let you know she won’t be able to come to work for the next several days. She is under the weather.”

The man on the phone grumbled something. “Tell her not to worry about coming back. Marissa said something about her going to heat or whatever the hell fucking thing.” Jin’s face went hot as you buried yours in your arms.

“That’s not grounds for termination. The service industry does not require that employees disclose secondary gender-”

“Yeah, well, they should. Failure to show up for her shift is grounds for termination.”

“The circumstances were unexpected, but you were notified as soon as possible,” Jin tried to reason.

“Sorry, but there’s nothing I can do. I have to go.” The phone disconnected before Jin could try another legal argument. He looked up at you with regret in his eyes.

“It’s fine. It was a shitty job anyway,” you mumbled. But he didn’t miss the souring apple cider vinegar of your scent or how the distress showed on your face.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. Maybe I can-”

You cut him off with a sharp whine as you fell over to your side. Hoseok knew instantly and shook his head. He pushed the alpha back. “It’s too late, baby,” he told his defeated mate before he closed your door.

Few people know that when you aren't getting fucked through your heat, it's like a fever dream. Like detoxing. Time isn't real anymore. It was hard for you to separate this time from all the other times you've been lost in this haze of instinct and need. You've been avoiding your heat for over a year just so you wouldn't have to relive these particular nightmares. In your daily life, it's all so much easier to ignore. If you talk to saps and they talk to you like you're one of them, it's easy to pretend that this isn't you, that your body isn't yours, that you've never been betrayed by yourself. And when you're alone, it's even easier to dissociate, to leave yourself until you're a little easier to be around. But here in this frenzy where you're hyper aware of who and what you are and what that takes from you, it's fucking hell. Your body feels twice its size and every nerve is screaming at you, begging to be touched in ways you don't want but can't stop wanting.

You wouldn't call what you did with what Hoseok gave you nesting per se. You were grateful for the clean sheets he had given you. These ones didn't smell as strongly of his pack, but hints were still there. At least for a little while they didn't smell quite so much like you. You allowed yourself to choose one blanket from the pile he'd left on the dresser. One cloud soft blanket wasn't too self-indulgent, right? You needed one blanket. That blanket was now twisted and tangled between your legs, providing little comfort from your tortured dreams.

Your first heat wasn't all that different from this one, if you're being honest. It came on fast and hard with no warning. Or maybe you just didn't know the warning signs. You had been in the room with the sap girls when they were told about their periods and about abstinence in the 6th grade. They were told they would bleed for several days every month for most of their lives. It would hurt, but that was normal. There were products they could buy to help. You weren't the only lykos girl in that room, but you all sat and nodded at the irrelevant information. None of you raised our hand to ask what heats or ruts would be like. None of the sap teachers would have been able to tell you. And you were all secretly hoping you wouldn't ever have to find out anyway.

You were sixteen when your first heat came. Every day you had just been hoping that you were a beta. That would be okay. If you were a beta then no one would ever have to know. They wouldn't be able to smell you. It would be so easy to pretend. But when it came, your adopted mom found you before you even knew what was happening to you.

You weren't up for your morning chores, which would be bad enough on a normal day. When she came in, she found you had pulled the winter blankets out of your closet and made a cozy little nest. Incensed, she began to pull the blankets from around and beneath you, one hard yank sending you tumbling to the floor, landing in a heap. You whined as she screamed at you.

"You know you're not allowed to do that. Filthy habits." When she came to pick you up by your arms, her hands slipped right off your sweat soaked skin, and she made a sound of disgust before wiping her hands on her apron. "What the hell is the matter with you?"

"Alpha," you moaned and got to your knees to try to crawl back to bed.

Her anger flared white hot, and she grabbed you by the back of your shirt. She dragged you out of your bedroom and down the stairs, deaf to your cries of pain, and dumped you at the feet of her husband.

"Look at her. Look what she's done," the woman accused, as if you had chosen this on purpose.

"What's wrong with her?" The man asked gruffly.

"She's turning into one of those animals."

The man looked down at her over his glasses. "We should call the pastor over, just to be sure."

The woman shook her head. "No we can't. I don't want the whole town to know we were raising one of those things all these years." She looked down and wrinkled her nose at you. "Eli turned out normal. I thought she might, too."

The man sighed. "Then what do you suggest we do, Ellen?"

The woman thought for a second. "We'll drop her in the woods off the property and let her fend for herself. Maybe the coyotes will get her come nightfall."

The man sighed again before he bent to pick you up in his arms. He carried you outside and set you in the bed of the beat up pickup truck. The old couple got in up front and the engine roared to life. The rumble it sent through the whole truck was almost like a purr. It was almost a comfort until he put the truck in drive and set off, taking bumpy dirt roads to the most remote edge of the property and sending you rolling and thumping along the cold metal ridges, leaving you bruised like a peach on top of it all.

You couldn't hear what they said, if they said anything, when they set you on the ground by a tall oak tree in a spot that she had deemed far enough away. The blood in your veins rushed too hard and fast to hear anything for several minutes, and by then they were gone, and all was quiet.

When you were lucid again, it was pitch black outside and the house was quiet. Even though your mind was momentarily clear, you felt disoriented to be in a dark and unfamiliar room. You were in a warm, soft bed that smelled slightly of warm brown sugar and apples. You felt out for the edge of the bed, finding it to be much wider than you expected, and pulled yourself to the side. Tentatively, you put your feet down one at a time, afraid to put your weight down and make a floorboard creak. When you quietly padded to the door on the balls of your feet, you couldn't find the light switch and began to panic in the engulfing darkness. You gave up and wrenched the door open instead. A soft orange glow from the living room was just enough to calm your nerves. Heavy, steady breathing came from that direction, so once again you tried to move as quietly as possible toward the front door.

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dragon-kazansky · 7 months ago

Text

When the raven calls

Morpheus x Female Reader

You, his raven, die protecting Jessamy while rescuing the Dream Lord. When Morpheus returns to his realm, he mourns your loss, only to find a stranger waiting for him in his throne room. The stranger claims to be you, now in human form. He doesn't understand, but his raven will always watch over him.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Chapter Twelve - Hold my hand

☆☆☆

Fiddler's Green walks with Lucienne through the palace. Morpheus had already left. He seemed particularly worried when you were brought up and left in a hurry.

Gilbert didn't know Morpheus was unaware you had left The Dreaming. Now he, too, was worried about you.

"So, he spent the last century in the waking world," Gilbert asked. Lucienne was bringing him up to speed.

"Yes, but he seems to have experienced the worst of humankind."

"Still, his time there appears to have changed him as it has changed me," Gilbert says.

"How so?" Lucienne asks.

"Lucienne, he came to you and told you he was wrong. It was very nearly an apology. The Morpheus I knew was incapable of that."

"Then perhaps he will be merciful to you since you came back on your own," she suggests.

"Oh, it doesn't matter what happens to me. What matters is that Dream stops The Corianthian and saves Rose Walker."

"There is no saving Rose Walker." Lucienne tells him.

"Why on Earth would you say that?" He asks, looking at her with a deep frown.

"Do you not know?"

He stares at her.

"She's a vortex."

"Oh. Oh, dear. I should have realised."

Now he understands why you were there. You were looking for Rose, not The Corianthian. And Morpheus didn't know.

"What have I done? He's... He's going to have to kill her."

You were going there to protect her.

☆☆☆

"I didn't expect to see you here. Especially like this. I love the new look." The Corianthian smiles at you.

"I... I didn't know you were here."

The Corianthian seems pleased. This means you weren't here for him. You were here for Rose. Still, this could work out for him.

"No. Well, I was in town."

"Right... well... I should go..." You go to take a step away, but he casually strolls closer.

"What's the rush? Why don't you come with me to meet some new friends, hm?"

You feel fear set in. Another emotion you weren't used to. You haven't felt fear like this since... since Alex Burgess.

You get the feeling it might be safer to go along with him for now.

"Sure..."

He takes your hand and leads you upstairs. You can hear voices further down the hall. The Corianthian follows them with you in tow, seemingly knowing who it is.

They sound frantic.

As you round the corner, you see Rose and Jed trying to run away as a large man corners them.

The Corianthian drops your hand and approaches the man from behind. He does not hesitate to stab him in the back. You gasp sharply and take a step back as yo watch him.

So that's what he's been doing all this time. Killing humans.

The man falls to the ground, and The Corianthian looks at the pair as they look back at him in fear.

"Hello, Rose." He pulls his knife out the man's back and wipes it clean. "Don't worry. You're safe with me."

☆☆☆

"I'm not going to hurt you."

You sit on the bed with Rose beside you, and Jed beside her. The Corianthian stands facing you all. He's mostly talking to Rose because you knew he intended to use her for his sick games.

"You just killed that man," says Jed.

"I just saved your life again. And I'm trying to save yours." The Corianthian says, firstly speaking to Jed and then to Rose.

"From whom?" Rose asks.

"From Morpheus."

Hearing his name makes your heart speed up. You were really starting to miss him now.

"Who's Morpheus?" Jed asks, looking at Rose.

"Uh, Jeddy, can you give us a minute?"

Jed moves.

"You're one of the missing Nightmares," Rose says, looking at The Corianthian. She glances at you, too. She recognises you from The Dreaming also.

"And you are the Vortex." He grins.

"If you know that, then you know Morpheus is watching me," she says.

"You think he's watching you so he can protect you? He's watching you because the minute you fall asleep and start beigning the walls down between people's dreams, he's gonna kill you."

You look at Rose nervously.

"But if someone protected you, kept him from killing you, well then you'd become the centre of the Draaming. He'd be powerless, and I would be free." The Corianthian tells her.

There's a knock on the door, and you jump. The Corianthian chuckles. He goes to answer it.

Rose turns to you. "Is he right?"

"I..."

"You were with Morpheus in the Dreaming. You know him." She says. "Is what he said right?"

"I... I'm afraid so..."

"Is that why you're here?" She asks.

"No. No! I came to keep you safe. I won't let either of them hurt you."

Rose looks lost and confused. There isn't much else you can say right now. She sits down quietly. Moments later, the Corianthian comes back in.

"I'm gonna go downstairs for an hour. Will you wait for me?" He asks Rose.

"No. I'm taking Jed. We're going home." She says, standing up again.

"Okay. Yeah, you can go if you want, but obviously, it's not safe for you to be wandering around the hotel. And if you leave the hotel, Dream's Raven will find you."

He side eyes you knowing that as soon as you get outside, you'll turn back into a raven, and Morpheus will be able to find you.

"I'll tell you what. This is your room. You can both keys. I'll come back in an hour. I'll knock. If you want, you can let me in. But if not, I'll go away. Lock the door when I leave, because you never know." He adjusts his glasses.

He then turns to you. "You're coming with me."

You want to tell him no, but as things are, it's probably best you don't fight him. Rose watches you as you walk past the Corianthian and step out into the hall. He soon follows you out, the door closing behind him.

☆☆☆

You follow him into a large hall full of people. They're all sat looking at a stage. Just being in here sends uncomfortable shivers down your spine. You are aware that every single one of these people is bad. Murderers. Killers.

The Corianthian wants to use Rose to make their dreams come true, and you really start to realise how deep in the hole you are.

He guides you to a chair, and you sit down quietly and slowly. He smiles as he sits beside you, one arm around the back of your chair to prevent you from fleeing, now that you would even attempt such a thing in here.

The man on the stage starts talking, but you're not listening. You keep looking around the room, keeping an eye out for anything. You're afraid.

You're afraid, and you're alone.

You miss Morpheus.

The Corianthian gets called up on stage. He smiles and nudges you to rise with him. He's not letting you get away. He leads the way to the stage and climbs on up. There are some seats free on the front row. You're guided to sit directly in front of him where he can see you at all times.

The applause dies down.

"I don't usually speak in public, but the opportunity to talk to so many people who share the same passion, the same dream, well, it was just too good to pass up. Because you are special people. Very special people. We are the American dreamers driving down the holy road of true knowledge that's paved with blood and gold."

You want to get out of here. You want to leave. You want Morpheus. You want to apologise to him and change his mind about Rose. You never should have got so upset with him.

The Corianthian keeps talking. You're not fully listening. You're wishing silently. Wishing for a way out.

"So just do me a favour." You look up at the Corianthian as he says that. "Close your eyes. And see yourselves as I do."

You look around you. They've all closed their eyes like he asked.

"We are gladiators. Conquerors. We are explorers... truth seekers. We are swashbucklers. We are hunters. Soldiers of fortune."

He stops talking for a second. You follow his gaze and feel your heart race.

Morpheus.

He's here. He's found you.

You smile.

Morpheus shifts his gaze from the Corianthian to you. He looks relieved to see you. You would get up and run to him, but you're still afraid.

Morpheus looks back up at the Corianthian.

"And kings of the night." The Corianthian adds.

Morpheus keeps his gaze fixed on his missing Nightmare.

"You disappoint me, Corianthian." He walks slowly down the aisle. "You and these humans you've inspired and created... disappoint me."

"I've done my best to be what you made me."

"No, you've done your worst, which was in so many ways what I had hoped." Morpheus says.

As he comes to where you sit, he holds out his hand. He doesn't take his eyes away from the Corianthian, but you understand the hand is for you.

You take it. His fingers curl around yours as he leads you up onto the stage with him.

"You were my masterpiece. A dark mirror made to reflect everything humanity will not confront."

Morpheus makes sure he puts himself between you and the Corianthian.

"That's what I am." Corianthian says. "That's what I've done."

"No. Look at you, walking this Earth for over a century, infecting others with your joy of death, but what have you given them? What have you wrought? Nothing. Just something else for people to be afraid of. That is all."

"So what now? You send me back to their dreams?" Corianthian asks. He pulls out a dagger from inside his coat. "Cause I won't go willingly."

Morpheus stares at him. "A knife against a dream?" He steps forward. You go to pull at his coat to stop him, but he moves quicker than you.

"You don't think dreams can die? Let's find out." The Corianthian smiles.

"Enough." Morpheus raises his hand, but the Corianthian does not hesitate to stab the dagger through his hand. You gasp and rush to Morpheus's side as he looks at his wounded hand. It bleeds.

Morpheus looks up at him. "How?"

"I've got Rose Walker getting stronger every second while you get weaker. She's taking your place at the center of the Dreaming. She's bringing the walls down between the sleepers' minds, and now they're all dreaming the same dream. A dream that I inspired."

You cradle Dream's hand between your own and look at him softly, but he keeps his eyes on the Corianthian.

"No."

"It's already happening. There's nothing you can do. She's asleep and dreaming."

"Then, she's not beyond my reach," Morpheus says.

"Oh, I think she is. Now that she knows you're planning to kill her."

☆☆☆

"You need to wake up!"

"Don't listen to him, Rosebud."

Morpheus entwined his fingers with yours and used what little power he had against Rose to project himself into the dream she was in. He was using you to amplify his power as a being created in the Dreaming.

The Corianthian appears behind Rose. "You're the one with power now, not him. This is your dream."

"It's his dream, for you world." Morpheus guides you into the horrible stale morge like room, his hand closed around yours.

"Then let's make it yours. Whatever you want, Rose. A blank canvas." The Corianthian says to her.

Everyone else, including Jed, vanishes from the room. It's just you, Dream, Rose, and the Nightmare.

"Where's Jed?" Rose asks.

"He's fine. He's upstairs, asleep. He's right next to you." The Corianthian tells her. "This dream is yours now. The Dreaming is yours now."

"The Dreaming is yours. Is that what he told you?" Morpheus asks.

"He told me you were going to kill me."

"Did he tell you why?"

Rose doesn't answer. You look at Morpheus sadly. You had hoped to protect her, but he was still going to kill her...

"When a vortex brings down the walls between dreams, she creates a single volatile dream that will collapse in upon itself and take the waking world with it." Your world. Everything and everyone will die."

"Don't believe him, Rosie." The Corianthian says, directly into her ear.

"It's happened before," Morpheus explains. "I failed my duty. An entire universe was lost."

"He can't kill you if you kill him first." The Corianthian takes out his dagger again.

You grab Dream's arm, but he once again doesn't spare you a glance. You didn't want anyone to die.

"Killing me may save your life, but it won't save the lives of those you love."

"I'm trying to keep you alive here." The Corianthian argues.

"I'm trying to keep your world alive," Morpheus argues back.

"You have to choose one of us, Rose." The Corianthian urges her.

"Enough!" She says.

You hold Morpheus's hand tightly in your own, standing as close as possible to him. The dream around you all starts to waver.

"If I'm as powerful as you say I am, then I will find my own way," Rose states. "In the meantime, the walls go back up." She starts shutting away the dreams. "Because I'm not dreaming anymore. Thanks to you two, I'm wide awake."

She wakes up.

You find yourself back in the hall. Morpheus has let go of your hand. You stare at it with longing. His long fingers twitch at his side slightly, yet he spares you not a single glance.

The wound on his hand heals like it was never there.

"If you think I'm going back to the Dreaming with you-" The Corianthian says.

"You're not going back."

You look at Morpheus.

"I brought you into this world to serve humanity. Not to feed upon it."

"Do you know why I do it?" The Corianthian asks. "So I can taste what it's like to be human. And you don't care about humanity. You only care about yourself and your realm and your rules."

"I contain the entire collective unconscious." Morpheus says softly. "Without my rules, it would consume me. Humanity will be consumed."

"Or you might actually feel something. I am not the problem, Dream."

"You're right. This was my fault. Not yours."

You keep your eyes on the dream lord.

"I had so much hope for you." Morpheus tells him softly. "But I crated you poorly then."

You hear the way the Corianthian's breath chokes slightly. He's upset. You feel something twist inside lf you.

"So I must uncreate you now."

You find yourself stepping back as Morpheus raises his hand up to the Nightmare. He starts to burn away.

"I am only sorry I won't be here to see Rose Walker do the same to you." The Corianthian says finally.

A pile of sand sits on the ground and atop it rests a small skull, representing The Corianthian.

You watch as Morpheus kneels down and picks the skull up. He lifts it and holds it high, looking at it. "Next time I make you, you will not be so flawed and petty, little Dream."

He wraps his fingers around the skull and turns to the humans in the room, adressing them.

"And you... who call yourselves 'collectors', until now, you have sustained fantasies in which you are the victims, comforting daydreams in which you are always right. But no more. The dream is over. I have taken it away. For this is my judgement upon you, that you shall know from this moment on exactly how craven and selfish and monstrous you are. That you shall feel the pain of those you have slaughtered."

You look at Morpheus quietly. The way he looks at them. The disdain in his voice. They used his gift for horrible purposes. Your hrlesrt yearns to reach out to him, but you resist. It's not proper. It's not right.

"And the grief of those that mourn them still, and you shall carry that pain and grief and guilt with you until the end of time."

All those people get up and leave. Morpheus watches them go. He doesn't look at you once.

When the hall is empty, you look at him again. You part your lips to say something, but he starts walking away, right past you, without a word.

You follow him.

When you get outside and see everyone getting into their cars, Matthew swoops down and lands next to Lord Morpheus. You keep your distance behind him.

Rose drives past.

"You want me to follow her?" Matthew asks.

"No. When she is awake, she is not a threat. Tonight, when she sleeps, I will find her. And we will end this."

"Dream..." You call him gently, but he doesn't respond.

You return to the Dreaming.

☆☆☆

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#when the raven calls #morpheus x reader #the sandman #female reader #dragon writes

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claymoresword · 1 year ago

Text

I Choose Her | Chapter 15

Hermione Granger x Slytherin Fem!Reader

Summary: You are the daughter of two known death eaters from one of the oldest and richest families in the wizarding world. Are you truly prepared to give up everything you know for Hermione Granger?

Pairing: Hermione x Reader

Wordcount: 4.3k

Warnings: character death, mentions of animal abuse, y/n and hermione are so protective of each other it's sick

Note: Hello! wow this one took forever, I feel bad that I'm always apologizing for delayed updates but oh well here we are :/ this one is more to move the plot forward and I wanted to follow canon in a way that would make sense for this story

anyway, as always thank you so much for the continued support and an even bigger thanks for your patience! crossing my fingers that updates will be more frequent from here on out. that's it, i hope you enjoy this one!

Taglist: @gvrsto @aweidlich @xxsekhmet @arielj @poppyflower-22 @scarleigh1989 @smut-religiously777 @cocoyeehaw @blackbirdv98 @arcturusseer @iamcapitalgbicorn8287 @lonewalker17 @karasonromanoff @httphayn @bigbadsofty07 @cherryflavoredcoke @dumpsapphic @idontwannabehereatm @js-a-writer @baylegend6 @puta1

Hermione stands over you as you hold out the thick strand of hair, pinched in between your fingers.

Harry and Ron stare at it with bated breaths, the air in between the four of you is still; anticipating.

You didn't have to consider for too long to know it belonged to your mother. You had nearly mistaken it for your own, if it weren't for the grayish undertones, only fully visible when illuminated.

It seems every time you saw your mother, her hair would be a shade lighter. As time did its duty, as the years passed, the older each of you got, the less you resembled the other.

You don't see your mother when you look in the mirror, not anymore.

"Are you sure that's hers?" Ron asks as you rise from your crouching position.

The painful lump in your throat prevents you from answering him.

You swallow thickly.

"I'm sure." You finally say.

Silence once again, as Ron reaches out to carefully pick out the strand, retrieving it from your grip, he drops it into the flask he held in his other hand with even more precision.

The only noise that fills the air is a faint sizzle, as the polyjuice potion consumes its final ingredient.

You feel Hermione move to your side, her fingers curl around your bicep, her other hand firmly intertwines with yours.

"Are you certain we'll be allowed into Bellatrix's vault?" Harry asks, he looks at you expectantly and you grace him with an assured nod.

"I've seen my mother retrieve things for her dozens of times, it'll work." You claim, but Harry's immediate skepticism doesn't evade you, and honestly, you can't hold it against him.

Your plan is far from foolproof. Like many times before the four of you are simply hoping to get by on pure chance and luck.

"How do we know what it is, when we get in her vault? I mean, a Horcrux could be anything." Ron asks, a question you were all wondering.

"I'll know." Harry quips plainly.

You glance at Hermione to shoot her a look before returning your attention back to Harry.

"It's hard to explain but– I'll just know." He adds, and none of you wish to push on the subject further.

════════════════════════════════════════════

You watched as Hermione lifted the flask filled with polyjuice to her lips, but then she pauses. Her shoulders rise as she takes a deep breath, as if preparing herself.

"Wait–" You interject, rising from the bed, in three large strides you are standing before your girlfriend.

"Let me drink it." You then place a hand over Hermione's, but she pries it off lightly.

"No, I'll do it." She counters, and you don't attempt to mask your disapproval.

"You can't drink it." Hermione reiterates.

"When we get to Gringotts, it'll appear more believable with you by my side, you know it." She adds, and you hate that Hermione is right.

You sigh.

"Darling, it's too dangerous." You breath out, your hand travels up her forearm, eventually tenderly cupping her face.

Hermione instinctively shuts her eyes at the sensation, she leans into your touch, her muscles no longer tense, her body visibly reacts to your warmth.

"We're all in danger." She finally claims, once your eyes meet again.

"This is the only way. There's another Horcrux hidden in her vault, we just have to find it." Hermione states assuredly but it does nothing to convince you of the plan.

You remain staring at your girlfriend, Hermione always had a way of making your heart feel like it could just implode within your chest.

You are overcome with love, care, and longing, all of these feelings encapsulated in the sheer dread of what's to come, of what might happen.

Hermione finds no trouble in returning your gaze.

This wordless exchange lasts for several seconds until Hermione decides to take advantage of your unmoving state. She leans in, passionately capturing your lips with her own.

Your hands quickly shift to rest on her waist, you then feel Hermione's hand move to the back of your head, pulling you closer.

You are taken aback as she opens her mouth wider, deepening the kiss, soon enough her tongue makes contact with your own.

You have no air left in your lungs, but the last thing you wish to do is pull away.

Hermione lets out a light hum as she presses her body up against yours; her eagerness causes your entire body to tremble, you worry your legs might give out at any moment.

The kiss ends as abruptly as it began.

A sharp gasp leaves Hermione's lips as she takes a step back, as if it proved a real struggle for her to cease the kiss.

Soon a sense of euphoria overcomes your entire being, even if it is fleeting, you feel at peace and it translates into a boyish grin across your face.

Hermione notices, and she has to bite her bottom lip to hide a smile herself.

She places a lingering hand over your chest before shoving you away playfully.

"Go on, wait outside. I'll meet you there." Hermione orders, and you know better than to protest.

════════════════════════════════════════════

You continued to pace back and forth, the usually maddening feeling of sand repeatedly filling your shoes does nothing to distract you.

Trepidation rapidly materializes within you the longer you waited for your girlfriend.

By taking the Polyjuice and assuming your mother's identity, Hermione is putting herself in immense danger, and you are expected to stand by and simply witness it, again.

"It'll be fine." You hear Harry's voice, but you don't acknowledge him.

You can't feel anything beyond the incessant pounding in your head; you possessed barely any strength at all, you mustered just enough to stomach this.

Soon enough, Hermione emerges from the hut and the sight you are met with is unsettling.

The woman standing before you appears to resemble your mother. Wearing the clothes your mother would wear, there was no trace of Hermione, beyond her voice.

Harry and Ron fail to speak alongside your silence. Hermione looks between the three of you impatiently.

"So, how do I look?" She asks, and you can't help but grimace.

"Disturbing." You quip.

Then you had no choice but to look away.

"Come on, let's just get this over with." You release an exasperated breath and Harry emerges next to you with Griphook.

"Griphook you give that to Hermione to hold onto, alright?" The man states, but it mainly sounded like a warning.

The Goblin lets out a subtle gripe as he hesitates, before eventually sheathing the steel into your girlfriend's bag.

"You get us into Bellatrix's vault, and the sword is yours." Harry reassures.

Ron finally takes out his wand so he may alter his own appearance, with a single wave, his hair is inches longer. The beard that appears on his face ages him, and makes him nearly unrecognizable.

"Now remember the plan, I'll be under the cloak with Griphook. Y/n and Hermione you'll try to convince the Goblin to let you through. Ron, you stand back in case anything happens." Harry runs through the plan once more and this time you don't suppress a scoff.

Hermione grabs your arm, wordlessly asking for you to stand down.

"This is a terrible plan." You say it anyway, and Harry doesn't retaliate, instead he nods in agreement.

"I know. But it's still the best one we've got."

════════════════════════════════════════════

You had to remind yourself to breathe as you walked through the doors of Gringotts.

Although certain the anxiety you are feeling at this moment is incomparable to the terror Hermione must be experiencing.

You had to battle every instinct urging you to reach out and hold your girlfriend's hand.

Ron trails closely behind the two of you, Harry and Griphook somewhere close by, hidden by the cloak of invisibility.

You brace yourselves once you get to the podium, a moment passes, but the Goblin on duty fails to acknowledge your presence entirely.

Hermione takes it upon herself to clear her throat.

Still, nothing.

She glances at you for help, and you nod, urging her to speak.

"I wish to enter." Your girlfriend states curtly, her best attempt to appear menacing.

In any other instance you would find it a little humorous, but right now, Hermione's poor imitation only makes you wince.

The Goblin fails to acknowledge either of you still, your patience rapidly thinning out.

"My mother has been sent to clear out Madam Lestrange's vault. I am certain you understand why you mustn't delay us." You say and the creature finally looks up.

His entire demeanor shifts, but it only helped to annoy you further.

"Madam, forgive me I did not realize it was you." Bogrod says, feigned cordiality.

"Of course you may enter.. but first, do you mind presenting your wand?" He adds and there is a pause.

You can sense Hermione's panic, but she tries her best to maintain a composed front.

She folds her arms over her chest.

"I hardly think that's necessary." Hermione states.

"I'm afraid I must insist." The Goblin's grin falters, and you realized you had to quickly step in

"Why?" You say, instinctively stepping forward, partially shielding Hermione with your body.

"New policy, I'm afraid." Bogrod explains, but before you can argue your case, the creature's expression shifts.

Your eyes catch the waft of green smoke seeping into the Goblin's nostrils.

You manage a quick glimpse of what looked like the tip of a wand being retracted, it disappears seemingly into thin air.

Y/n quickly realizes that Harry has sensibly, stepped in before things got ugly.

In an instant, the Goblin changes his tune.

"Very well, Madam, if you will follow me." He says with a dopey smile.

You hear Hermione let out a sigh of relief, you can't help but do the same.

════════════════════════════════════════════

The ride through the dungeons was nothing close to pleasant. The cart transporting you zoomed at an unfathomable speed, the abrupt turns and twists would have made you nauseous, if you weren't feeling sick already.

Hermione continues clutching your hand in hers, tighter than usual, your grip is similar in turn.

Finally, the cart halts, and before you know it, the six of you are free falling dozens of feet.

You reach for your wand in your pocket but Hermione beats you to it.

"Arresto Momentum!" She exclaims, and your bodies hang mid air, inches from the ground. Soon the spell wears off, the six of you fall onto the cold, wet, stone, front first.

"Thank you, Hermione." Harry says, as he helps himself off the ground.

You quickly do the same, rushing over to help your girlfriend up.

Hermione gladly takes your hand, when your eyes meet, you notice her appearance, she is back to her usual self.

The Polyjuice potion had entirely worn off but Bogrod, still under the Imperius curse, is unable to do anything about it.

"Come on, this way." Griphook shouts, he leads the four of you to the vaults.

He navigates the dark cavern with ease, as you try to get your eyes to adjust, a piercing screech fills the air, and it causes both you and Hermione to glance at each other.

You warily follow Griphooks lead, but the sight you're met with when the six of you turn the corner makes your breath catch in your throat.

"That's a Ukrainian Ironbelly–" Ron points out, awe and disbelief you shared.

Then Griphook picks up an object you quickly deduced to be a certain type of bell. As he shakes it, the dragon's screeching intensifies, it flails around as if trying to escape the noise.

It was only then you noticed the thick metal chains around its neck and legs.

"It's been trained to expect pain when it hears this sound." The creature claims and Hermione releases you so she may step forward, following his lead.

She speaks once she is in earshot of the Goblin.

"That's barbaric." Your girlfriend says, a certain tenor to her voice, you knew her well enough to recognize that she was truly indignant.

The dragon's screeching continues as the four of you slip past it.

It only retreats to cowers silently in the corner once the noises from the bell stops.

The vault is now in sight, as the group approaches you can't help but notice that Bogrod has disappeared.

You glance out at where you spotted the Goblin last and sure enough. He was standing in front of the dragon, simply staring at it; the curse has evidently impaired his judgment and all sense of danger.

"Wait– what do we do with him?" You gesture to Bogrod.

Although before anyone can respond, the Ukrainian Ironbelly takes a large step forward, then from its mouth, comes flames, big and blistering enough to turn the entire space scorching hot in an instant.

The once Goblin was now burnt to nothing but ash.

Hermione, Y/n and the boys only manage to stare in utter shock.

"That's unfortunate." Ron finally quips.

"Come on, we don't have much time." Griphook warns, he advances forward and the four of you follow.

As you arrive at the vault, it appears familiar to you, but only distantly.

It was not the vault Snape led you to a few months ago but it appears almost identical.

"Is this where you got the sword?" Hermione asks in a hushed tone, and you quickly shake your head.

"No, the key Snape gave me led to a different vault." You explain, but your girlfriend doesn't say anything, expecting your response.

As the five of you enter Bellatrix's vault, it is worse than you expected.

It is filled with random trinkets, some valuable, some not.

The three of you sport a defeated expression, but Harry was not going to give up so easily.

He steps forward.

"It's in here, I can sense it." He states.

You observe silently as The Chosen One approaches a particular cup, amidst an array of objects that look nearly identical to it.

Soon enough he reaches for it.

Harry holds out the cup, nothing is said, but there is an energy that reverberates through the air.

It's unmistakable. He has a Horcrux in hand.

"Pass me the sword." He extends his arm and Hermione scrambles through her bag, eventually retrieving the steel.

She passes it to Harry, he grips the pommel, but doesn't get the chance to do much else as a noise captures your attention.

Ron knocks over a goblet by accident, instead of breaking as it touches the ground, it only multiplies.

As the duplicate makes contact with another object it does the same thing. Soon objects are spawning at a rapid rate, filling up the already limited vacant space by your feet.

"What's happening?" Hermione exclaims over the loud noise, you instinctively step to her side as she nearly loses her balance.

"It's an enchantment, everything you touch will multiply." The Goblin explains, you aren't given much chance to come up with an escape plan as the objects quickly engulf all five of you.

For what felt like eternity, you fought to keep your head above.

You spot Hermione and Ron doing the same, but you can't see Harry anymore.

Amidst the chaos, somehow, Griphook gets a hold of the Horcrux.

Then, Harry finally emerges from the sea of gold and silver. He frantically looks around, in search of the object, but his attention shifts to the Goblin as he proudly holds up the Horcrux.

"We had a deal, Griphook!" Harry bellows, and the creature only grins, malicious, irritating.

"The cup for the sword!" He strikes up the bargain, and you curse under your breath.

It is getting increasingly difficult to stay afloat, and you watched as Hermione and Ron struggled the same.

Harry begrudgingly hands over the sword, the Goblin then returns the Horcrux back to him.

"I said I'd get you in, I never said anything about getting you out." Griphook quips, he holds his hand up against the door, unlocking it.

Soon the objects begin spilling out of the vault after him but the four of you continue to struggle to make your way to the exit.

If only you could retrieve your wand, you could stop the Goblin from going any further.

"Hermione, can you reach your wand?" You shout, and the struggle in your girlfriend's face is evident.

"I'm trying!" She replies.

After moments of struggle, the four of you miraculously manage to make your way out, but it was too late.

The Goblin is nowhere to be seen.

"Griphook!" Harry calls out in anger, he doesn't expect a reply, and he doesn't receive one.

His voice echoes through the dungeons, and it only works to disturb the dragon ahead.

It lets out another deafening screech.

You approach slowly, in search of the object that you know will subdue the beast, but you can't find it anywhere and you know for certain Griphook is the reason for it.

"The bell- it's gone." You don't try to conceal your distress.

"That foul creature– how are we supposed to get out of here?" Ron curses and you begin looking around for some type of solution, an idea to come to you.

You take an experimental step forward; careful, quiet.

You consider that perhaps, if you moved slowly, the dragon won't react.

However, your theory was quickly proven incorrect as the beast storms towards you within the confines of its chains, soon opening its mouth.

You were only inches away from getting charred alive before Hermione harshly grabbed your arm, yanking you to her side.

The pins you up against the pillar, out of the dragon's sight.

Ron and Harry stood a few paces away, their backs also against the wall.

"What on earth was your plan there?" Hermione hisses, and you are staggered for a moment.

You've never seen her so furious with you.

"I just thought if I moved quietly–" You start, but then another loud noise pierces the atmosphere.

Clearly, your stunt only exacerbated the dragon's already agitated state.

The sounds that follow suggest that the formidable beast was now fighting to be released from its restraints.

"Don't you ever try something like that again–" Hermione warns, her hand still gripping your collar.

You nod apologetically, suddenly you almost feel like a child being reprimanded.

Your girlfriend finally loosens her grip on your shirt.

The beast's actions begin to get larger and louder, in its outrage it clamours at the stone walls, chipping large pieces off.

"What a joke– did we go through all of that just to die in here?" Ron quips.

"We can't apparate.." Your girlfriend mumbles to herself, mentally debating an escape plan.

"Hermione?" Harry asks, it sounds closer to a desperate plea.

You were all stumped, only hoping that the mostly brilliant mind out of the four of you will manage to think of a plan to escape.

Hermione finally looks up at you, and by the look on her face you can tell whatever it might be; she's figured something out.

"I've got an idea, but it's mad." She admits, with a raised voice and truth be told you hated the sound of that.

Harry and Ron stare at her expectantly and you only grow more nervous by the second.

Hermione turns to y/n, you don't speak a word to her but it is not required as she already senses your anxiety, she places a firm hand on your chest right above your heart, you were certain she can feel it pounding against her palm.

"Just trust me." She reassures, too swiftly for your liking, as she completes her sentence she retreats.

You can only anticipate her next move, and it is not one you'd ever expect, in fact it nearly sends you into an early grave.

You watched as Hermione leaped off the balcony, landing on the dragon's back.

"Hermione!" You exclaim.

She struggles to get a grip of the beast for a moment, you are stunned when the dragon stills, it doesn't try to force Hermione off it's back.

"Come on!" Your girlfriend shouts, and you were first to mirror her earlier action. With a single large leap you manage to grab onto the dragon's horns, you pull yourself up, situating yourself behind Hermione.

The dragon reacts the same, but it is too fixated on the chains wrapped around its neck to care.

Soon enough Harry and Ron manage to climb on as well.

There is a point of eery stillness as the dragon seemingly appears too tired to continue fighting.

"Now what?" Harry poses a good question, and you take it upon yourself to fish out your wand.

"Relashio!" In one swift move, you fling the spell, aiming for the dragon's tail.

The beast reacts violently, in the process, the spell breaks the chains tethering it to the ground, finally freeing the beast from its restraints.

"Defodio!" Your girlfriend exclaims as she holds out her own wand, and soon enough, the dragon takes flight, bursting through the ceiling.

In an instant, Gringotts Bank is reduced to fragments of wood, glass and stone as the dragon flees the building, taking the four of you with it.

════════════════════════════════════════════

You have been on dragonback for what felt like hours, however an uncanny feeling of serenity, fills you as the beast flew through the air, past villages and hillsides.

As you approach the vast water, the dragon begins to fly lower; it appears the beast aims to halt its tiresome journey through the city soon.

"We're dropping!" Harry exclaims, panic begins to set in amongst the four of you once again.

"I say we jump!" Ron suggests, but you aren't particularly fond of the idea.

"What?" You bark.

"When?" Hermione chimes in.

"Now!" Harry responds as he lets go, you watched as he falls into the freezing water below.

He is quickly followed by Ron and Hermione, and you let out a groan as you release your grip on the dragon.

"Damn you, Weasley!" You exclaim as you freefall into the lake.

As your body touches the water, it immediately feels like hundreds of blistering hot knives are incessantly puncturing your skin.

It is almost unbearable, but then your head rises to the surface and pure instinct kicks in. The four of you, with some difficulty, eventually manage to swim to shore.

Hermione grabs your hand to help you up, in your weakened state you barely manage to climb the cliff.

Harry storms ahead, seemingly unaffected, no doubt driven by pure adrenaline.

"He knows." He blurts out.

"You know who." Harry explains, and Hermione lets go of your hand to catch up to the dark haired man.

"He knows we broke into Gringotts, he knows what we took, and he knows we're hunting Horcruxes." He admits.

"How is it you know?" You ask, jogging slightly to catch up, Ron following closely behind.

"You let him in?" Hermione asks, her tone dissaproving.

"Harry you can't do that–" She says but her bestfriend interrupts.

"Hermione, I can't always help it! Or maybe I can, I don't know." He retaliates.

"Never mind that, what happened?" You interject.

The four of you halt as you get to the top of the cliff.

"Well, he's angry– and scared too." Harry starts, he holds out his hands as Hermione retrieves her bottle of Essence Of Dittany from her bag.

She places a few drops on his palms, doing the same on yours, and then Ron's.

You rub your hands together as Harry continues speaking.

"He knows if we can find and destroy all the Horcruxes, we'll be able to kill him. I reckon he'll do anything to stop that happening." Harry finishes and you scowl at the thought.

Soon, the boys begin stripping so they may change into dry clothes.

Hermione instead retrieves a large blanket from her bag, she drapes it over you, before pulling you close to her body so she may share your warmth.

"There's more– one of them's at Hogwarts." Harry explains.

"What?" Ron says in disbelief and his friend only nods.

"You saw it?" Your girlfriend asks, skeptical.

Harry nods again.

"I saw the castle, and Rowena Ravenclaw. It must have something to do with her, we have to go there now." The Chosen One states, assuredly.

"What? We can't do that, we've got to plan, we've got to figure it out." Hermione counters.

"Hermione when have any of our plans ever actually worked?" Harry recounts, his gaze shifting between y/n, Hermione and Ron.

"We plan, we go there, all hell breaks lose." The dark haired man states, and neither of you have an argument, he was stating the plain truth.

"He's right– just one problem." Ron starts.

"Snape's headmaster now, we can't just walk through the front door."

Then there's a pause.

You can feel Hermione shivering against you, you swiftly wrap an arm around her, an attempt to keep her as close as possible.

"Well, then we'll go to Hogsmeade. To Honeydukes– take the secret passage." Harry offers a solution, and you nod in agreement.

"I think– there's something wrong with him–" He adds, and the three of you wait for Harry to explain.

"In the past, I've always been able to follow his thoughts– now everything just sort of feels disconnected." The dark haired man says, he adjusts the glasses on his face.

"Maybe it's the Horcruxes? Maybe he's growing weaker, maybe he's dying?" Ron suggests but Harry was quick to shake his head.

"No, it's more like he's wounded. If anything he feels more dangerous." Harry states plainly, and now you are shivering for an entirely different reason.

Hermione glances at you, as you exhange a look, you can't help but acknowledge that all too familiar sense of impotence as it looms over all of you.

The uncertainty and impending doom; it feels as though the more Horcruxes you uncover, the more uncertain the end seems.

#hermione granger imagine #hermione x reader #slytherin au #hermione granger #harry potter #harry x hermione #hermione granger x reader #ron x hermione

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pillowspace · 4 months ago

Note

Hello! I know i'm a bit late now but i just caught up on Celestial Sundown and I love your writing! I was looking through the tag and saw the ask you answered about probably not continuing it but willing to answer questions. If you still plan on not finishing it could you share what you had planned for it? Specifically i'm curious about what eclipse was going to do (or at least what they planned on doing) with y/n in the next chapter, but if you feel like sharing what you had planned for the rest of the story I would love to hear that too!

Weather you answer this or not i hope you have a great day/night!

It's a bit hard to gather all the memories considering I lost my file with my plans in it when I switched phones (eh idc, it was all messy anyway), but let me think ummm!

Eclipse was going to drag Y/N off... they'd carry them towards Sun's general direction because Y/N's struggling to walk, but then eventually Eclipse would also start struggling to walk as they would get all goopy and just generally Unwell. So Eclipse would sit Y/N down somewhere by the trees and they'd talk. Ah-! Notably, I believe there wassss... a scene where Y/N asks if Eclipse is talking about "Sun," though by just simply asking "Sun?". Because Sunna (Eclipse's sun half) also technically went by the name Sun, Eclipse would sort of freeze up and Stare, before Y/N elaborates on what they're asking and Eclipse gets a little bitter to learn that the god of Day would go by the name "Sun" of all names. It feels a tad bit disrespectful, even if the children are the ones who nicknamed them that.

After a bit of tense conversation, they'd move on to walking again, and I think Sun was meant to find them. Things don't really work out for Eclipse due to the fact that Eclipse is currently more injured than Sun is, so in a last ditch effort, Eclipse brings Y/N to the Celestial Realm, which of course freaks Y/N out the second they realize what's happening. It wouldn't be exploratory though, only brief, as they would end up appearing in a dark room within the castle Eclipse resides in. Something about the air would feel different though, wrong. Eclipse would leave Y/N there to go recover or get something for them, whichever it was. Thennn... Vanny/Vanessa/whatever would have appeared, telling Y/N that they're not supposed to be here yet, they'd talk a tiny bit, and then she would send Y/N back home? Sorry, I don't remember much of the specifics of that conversation?? Upon appearing back home, Y/N would then feel nauseous and somehow deeply Wrong, like briefly being outside of their own realm then returning suddenly made them realize just how much it feels like the air is outright rejecting them. But that the Celestial Realm also didn't feel much better either. Y/N doesn't have much time to think about it before Sun is there at their side. From there, Sun would work on treating them for the next few days, in a bit of a mirror to how Y/N had treated Sun at one point. I... cannot recall if Y/N also grew sick or if it was just the injuries.

Oh! Right! During the conversation with Eclipse, I believe Eclipse mentioned the fact that um... gosh, I don't know, um um um. Either that they had intended to kill Sun, that Sun was injured enough that he would have died had Y/N not meddled with it, or that Eclipse would have returned after having woken up to deal a killing blow if again Y/N hadn't treated him. SOMETHING along the lines of "Sun would be dead if it weren't for you." Y/N would eventually bring this up to Sun after mostly recovering, and it would sort of unintentionally burst any wiggle room Sun had in physically being able to pretend that he had a normal debt and not a life debt. I've mentioned this once, but there's a very big difference between a debt and a life debt. If you have a life debt, the person involved sort of... Owns you. They can demand anything of you, and you wouldn't be able to refuse. A life debt is also extremely hard to get rid of. It's seen in Celestial Realm's cultures that having a life debt with a human is very bad and leads to gods being forced into their lowliest position, like a pet on a leash that can be demanded to do anything practically. Sun panics the moment they lose their little shield of "well I COULD have lived without you...!" Even if the two of them want to trust each other, they don't trust each other ENOUGH for a life debt to not cause Sun fear. Upon realizing why Sun is suddenly so freaked out, Y/N quickly reshapes their speech habits to not have any commanding language. Over the next little while, Y/N would build trust up with Sun again and assure him again and again that they would never demand anything of him, and that this life debt hasn't changed anything for them. They didn't want anything before, and they don't want anything now. No matter how easy it would be.

That's less just NEXT chapter, and more what the next few chapters would've probably been. Of course, there was way more plans for the general storyline, but I... I wouldn't really know where to begin with all that without a specific question, and this answer's gotten long enough already.

You have a great day/night too!!!

#ask #celestial sundown au

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freshlyrage · 4 months ago

Text

Running Like Water

Chapter 29

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)

fic warnings: NSFW Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues

fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I'm bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon

word count: 6.1k

IMPORTANT a/n: Hello! She's here....

I suggest reading The Holiday chapter I posted this Christmas, before this one.

I hope you enjoy. HEHEHE

December 1989

Javier’s uncle died very suddenly.

Escobar didn’t. Javier swears he has spent twenty years of his life in Colombia. Tainted by death, sex and drugs. What is the point of anything when you’ve become desensitized to tragedy? Time slows each time. He can't keep count of how many hours he has spent outside of various buildings just waiting for medics to roll out the victims. Hours he spent, cigarette in hand just talking about what's next while bodies are wheeled away. Days spent in bed with women racking his bills sky high. Just because sometimes he can't come home to a bed empty.

He had enough, he broke protocol and he knew that the hammer was to come down on him. He knew that the DEA was just as twisted, a fearful institution that only cared about profit. Because if there are no more cartels, there is no more DEA. The only goal was to kill the big man, capo, whatever you may have. Make the Americans proud, we did that. We killed The Drug Pin. But the cartel doesn’t just die with its leader but that's it, to the DEA, the performance is over and it's time to move on. Send them all home, leave the country in shambles. So fuck it, Javier was tired of being congratulated when he just felt like a bad guy.

He knew the government, his organization, were aware of its corruption. There hadn't been a care.

The rest of the guys were being reassigned and they asked him to resign quietly. After all he did for them. Bled himself dry. And all it took was for him announcing his disappointment for them to threaten being fired, tarnishing his reputation.

Or of course, leave quietly and tell his colleagues he was just ready to settle down.

Escobar and George Peña died on the same day. Javier wasn’t home for 3 days, he missed all the frantic calls from his father. On the third day he was asked to resign quietly.

He went home, slept and drank. Skipped a session with Dr. Hertz. Ignored the phone calls that came in. Stared at the resignation form on his coffee table. Buried himself in a different cunt each night.

Until he signed, packed his home and picked up the phone.

Chucho Peña was one of 2 children. He was the baby, his brother was twelve when he came into the world. It was a rough age gap. They weren't always very close. George was around for the big milestones: Chucho's wedding, Javier’s birth, a few birthdays and there for his brother when his wife left. But mostly, George spent his time in his high rise apartment in Houston. It's where Javier lived for a year at age 15. When he wanted to be a cop, when Chucho took a chance and paid an ungodly amount for The School of Law and Order.

George had just entered remission. He was diagnosed with melanoma a year prior, it wasn’t life threatening but still scary. Javier made sure he took his medication on time.

He didn’t, he got sick again, how could he know?

He finally called home and he was already buried. His father had to do it alone.

That's when Javier decided to see Dr. Hertz again.

“Will you be continuing sessions back home?” Dr. Hertz had a furrow in her brow since the beginning of the session. Since told her about the resignation, about the death, about how fucking stressful it is to pack. He wonders if she’ll miss him.

“Are you still married?” He uncrosses his legs and ashes his cigarette on the tray next to his seat. Dr. Hertz has dealt with him for nearly three years. She just waves off his flirtation, she calls it a defense mechanism. An attempt to change the topic, ease the waters with something he’s good at. She’s immune to his ways.

She laughs, “Yes. I am. Will you? Continue, therapy I mean.”

“Happily?” Javier tilts his head. Dr. Hertz doesn’t entertain him any longer. He chuckles, “Sorry. I’m not sure. I don’t think I want to tell my story all over again to another person. Or professional I guess. Sounds fucking exhausting.”

She nods, lips in a fine line like she’s holding back. Javier sighs in annoyance knowing that face well. “Just say it Hertz.”

“Well,” She closes her notebook and he knows he’s in for it. “I think that you have made significant progress in dealing with your past. With your mother, with Andrea, with Lorraine. But life won't stop hurting you just because you worked some things out. And I know you. Very well. I know that the second you go home you’ll be contacting her.”

“Doctor I-”

“Nope. You know that's the truth. You might go home and she might be married, or pregnant or maybe you’ll come home and she’ll want you again. All of those realities come with struggle, and with change, and growth. You are capable, and very emotionally intelligent for a man your age so I’m not saying this to coddle you. But you should continue therapy, in any form. We all need to be heard. I don't care if it's bi-monthly. Or on and off for a few years. If everyone had a therapist we all wouldn’t have such a hard time handling the ups and downs of life.” She crosses her legs and locks eyes with him. “But, do what you believe is best for you. I will miss having you as my patient.”

His eyes fall to his shoes because fuck. “You’re right. I’ll probably need a shrink for the rest of my life simply based on all the dead bodies I've seen before the age of thirty.” He chuckles but she doesn’t reciprocate. She just opens her book again and goes right back into what she does best. Getting him to talk.

“Talk to me about the resignation.”

“It’s like cancer. This fucked up institution. You know, my uncle George had melanoma at first. There on his skin,” Javier points to his elbow. “On the surface, and yes it made him sick. They removed it, and made him go through that radiation therapy. And the solution was a good one for a few years, but until it wasn’t. He was more susceptible to other cancers and years went by, and it was just everywhere. His blood, his colon. Topical solutions just don’t work like that. The sickness was systemic.” He leans back into his chair, legs spread. He hoped he wasn’t in pain. “Me, Murphy…” He pauses and thinks of the casket. “Carillo… we can’t be the medication. We don’t work. We haven’t worked. I’m aware, and I couldn’t be quiet about it. So whatever, I’ll take their hush money.” It was a lot. He can start working on the house he always said he’d build on the ranch this spring. He could have months of relaxation. Maybe get a degree, something. “I’m a part of the problem too I guess.”

“You’re human. You deserve to breathe. We worked together for a long time and you still haven’t learned how to give yourself grace”

It was what he needed to hear. She has said it a million times but today it stuck.

He’ll be home for the holidays.

“Are you in the right headspace to see your mom?”

“Is anyone ever in the right headspace to see their parents?”

You sit on the floor of your bedroom, folding clothes. Honestly, you haven't spent a Christmas at home in years. You had no intention of heading back to Laredo until spring break. But you heard about the passing of George Peña. You hadn’t known the man but you knew that many of the Peña holidays were spent up at his home. It won’t be that way anymore and you’d love to visit him for this holiday. Bring him a gift, be there for him how he’s been there for you.

Of course, you’ll go home. Your bedroom has a new bed for guests, so says your mother. You’ll see if maybe she’s interested in spending time with you. You don’t even think you’re going to try. You’re still curious if maybe she will.

Jaya walks to your calendar. “So you’ll be back… January 3rd?”

“Mhm.” You stretch out your leg with a wince. You had the nastiest scrape on your knee from this morning. You knew it’ll dry and crust by the time you get to Texas.

In a rush to catch the subway today you tripped on the last stair and split right through your tights. You tried not to cry when you settled into the cart with blood trickling down your stocking.

Jaya, who was already preparing her house sitting duties, placed cream on the scrape.

She offered to stay at your place while you go back to Texas. Which means liberal use of her spare key to your apartment even before you leave. Crashing at your place after drinks with her boyfriend in your neighborhood. Or just showing up. But hey, she’s your best friend and she’ll be watching your birds for free.

“I took two extra days off. Mr.Fyre will be covering for me.” You side eye her in anticipation for her questions. She smirks at you with a head shake.

She rolls over in your bed, “That poor man. His dick still big?”

You blush, “Yes. Too bad he finishes after ten seconds. Last week he was fucking me right there.” You point to the dresser and Jaya widens her eyes. “And he came the second he put it in. It was kind of hot. He fingered me afterwards so I forgave him.”

Mr. Fyre, Gregory Fyre. The hot new 24 year old substitute that you’ve been sleeping with for two weeks. He came in right after you cut it off with Christian. He walked in that teachers lounge and asked you to stop talking so loudly. The two of you ended up making out in the parking lot.

He had you there on the dresser, knuckle deep in your cunt. While you tense your stomach and picture another face in front of yours. Gushing on his palms in ten seconds.

Yeah. You’re fucked.

At the very least he’s a man who can take a hint. So it’s been fun and easy. Easy to get off and you know, bye, get off now.

“Your sex life is so interesting. Did he question why you were moaning the name Javier?”

You giggle tossing your panties at her. She catches it and twirls it on her finger before flinging it back at you. “That was one time, many months ago with Christian.” You cringe, “So it does not count.”

Jaya sits up again, her face changing slightly. Here brows knitting and her eyes scanning the room. The habit of no eye contact that comes before she says something you don’t want to hear. Which happens more than you’d expect. She kept it real. You tilt your head at her gesture. “What if he’s there this time?”

Brows lifting slightly you look back down at the dress in your lap and you continue to fold. You shrug. “He hasn’t been there every other time so-“

“You would purposely go home on random days of the year. It’s Christmas, Escobar's dead and you told me his uncle just passed.”

You frown at the realization. Washed over with reality. You know he hasn’t come home at all yet, you’re sure his job just doesn’t stop because Escobar is gone. But if it was anytime to visit , it would be now. You don’t respond and just place the dress in the luggage. “Will you be okay to see him?”

“Yes?” She gives you a crazy glance and you can't even convince yourself.

“No. I don’t know. I'm not like angry at him because somehow his decision was a good one. I feel like… if he asked me to see him that day I would have never left town. Which by the way, has been the best decision ever.” You smiled at her and she smiled back.

“So there’s no hard feelings.” She says it like it's bad.

You know exactly why it could be a disaster. It's impossibly difficult to be angry at a person that could die at any moment in their line of work.

She continues to read you like a book.

“It would be extremely easy to fall back into him when the only emotion you feel is sadness and longing.” You nod because she was always right. It would be so easy. So easy to find comfort in each other. So easy to see him and-“Whatever you do just promise me you won’t forget about your life here.”

You narrow your eyes and extend a pinky to her.

She leans over the bed and you interlink. Sun peaks through your window and warms the two of you.

It’s the same sun.

He knows it.

It's the same. He knows you sit and feel it too. He can see you, looking outside the fire escape of your apartment. The sun offers you warmth in thirty degree weather. He does the same except it isn't so cold. It’s warm all around, hot even. He shares a sun with you and still feels like it's different. He misses you so badly that the thought of being warmed by the same star offers him a comfort beyond comprehension.

Look where life has taken us.

Javier is at the steps of the place he called home for a few years. All his belongings already ahead of him, delivered at the footstep of his fathers ranch.

In less than a day, he’ll be dropped there just the same. Murphy has come to see him before he goes and they’ve been in a comfortable silence for a few minutes. Javier clears his throat, afraid to reveal himself. He was an open wound, a live wire. Afraid to come home and not see you. Even more terrified to come home and see you.

“You tell Connie?” He asks. Murphy sniffles, holding his fists together.

“That you're leaving?”

Javi nods, “Yeah.”

Murphy exhales, “Yes. She said it was the right choice. Then told me to break the rules so I could come back too.” He laughs a hearty one and Javier follows, rubbing his chin. It was professional, sure, but Steve and Connie became like family during his years. They were older, had their shit together, they were making it work. Connie could read Javi. She was the reason he decided to just go to see someone. “Maybe I should. Olivia can walk now. Can you believe that?”

Javier purses his lips with an exhale. “Jesus.” What he wouldn't give to have a family with you. He’d leave it all, all over again at least. He’d ruin his name, leave in the most dishonorable way if it meant coming back to you and his baby. It's silent again and it's too late. His thoughts betray him. You're all he can think about. You hated the holidays with your family. There was no way you’d choose to just come home now.

The silence rang loud. Loud enough for Steve to hear his thoughts.

“You’ve got to talk to that girl. Don’t waste anymore time.”

“She wont want to.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because she's stubborn. Because I abandoned her when that's all she knew.”

Murphy shook his head , tapping his knuckle on the step between his legs in frustration and turned to Javi. “But you didn't. You let her go. You needed to. She needed to heal in her own way. You needed help, you fucking got it.” Murphy’s lips twitch. “And listen man, I know we made that pact two years ago. If you go, I go. When it came to therapy, I stopped going to that shit after 2 months.”

Javi’s jaw drops, brows furrowing. He was almost there, on the verge of tears but there Murphy goes. Making him laugh. “What?”

“Yup. And I’ve been lying to you because I saw something in you change-”

“You fucking asshole.”

“You’re fucking welcome Agent Peña.”

Javi scoffs with a chuckle and reaches in his pocket for his pack. “Yeah whatever.”

“Yeah yeah. If all the stories you told me about that girl are true, there is no way she isn’t waiting for you.”

“I didn’t wait.” There it is, that guilt he felt for years. The guilt he felt after finding pleasure with others. The stomach churning pain that came with being forehead to forehead, breathless, coming down, and opening his eyes and seeing a face unfamiliar.

Murphy shakes his head. “I didn’t mean it that way. None of that matters.”

A beep has the two flinching. Looking up at the taxi. Javier's heart is suddenly loud enough to ring his ears. The two stand to their feet and hug. Tightly, a brotherly hold he isn;t used to but welcomes. “Sorry If I was ever-”

Murphy shakes his head, “Don't worry about all of that. Make sure you check in on my girls.” They part and Javier nods like it's his duty. “And you know. Be kinder to yourself and just…” He pats his shoulder, “Just reach out to that fucking girl.” Javier feels the pat like a push, like a shove.

Then he goes on his way, thinking of you like he does.

Melissa Diaz knows that it’s too late and frankly she feels like she’s too old to repair her relationship with her daughter. Each time you come home there's a thick air of discomfort. Like you're a stranger in your childhood home. Each conversation is laced with the unspoken toxicity that is your relationship with your mother. Too many years of hurt just to speak comfortably.

Which is precisely why you decide to get a hotel room this time around.

You unpack what you can, glancing at the clock to figure out if you have time to shave before driving to your moms. You promised to help her bring the gifts to Chucho’s house tonight. You had only flown in 5 hours ago. You decided those 5 hours were for your own mental preparation.

The truth is, when you remove yourself from a toxic environment the second you get back you realize that your tolerance is close to none. So you decide to not only stay away but also give yourself time to brace yourself so you don’t ruin Christmas.

And this Christmas was different. It was for Don Chucho. You knew that he’ll be over the moon to see you. Thrilled to have the kids running around his house. Javier always said that Chucho would have had 10 children if life hadn’t gotten in the way. He loved the holidays but now that his only family is gone, you knew you had to be here. You had an hour so you scurry to the bathroom and shave, wash the New York off of you and step out a true Texas girl.

Black sweater dress and stockings rubbing against your split open knee. Chanting, fuck, fucking fuck, fucker, fuck when rolling the thing on. Spritzing yourself in the orange blossom of Night Musk by Prince Matchabelli. Feeling strangely anxious to spend the holidays back home. There was a sense of excitement to see your siblings and niece. Excitement to watch the kids open gifts, yet splitting nerves at the thought of being back on the Peña ranch.

Excited to drink Coquito, listen to Hector Lavoe, dance and eat.

You grab your purse, grab the sack containing all the gifts you accumulated for your family over the month and head out to your car.

You get to your mothers house in fifteen short minutes, not even given time to get into the house and say hello before she’s out on the steps very frantic. Cursing in Spanish about Sol staining her dress. James, not taking anything seriously as always, unloading the Christmas gifts into the trunk of your rental and kissing your cheek welcoming you back home. You hardly had a relationship with your mothers husband, sometimes you wondered how a dynamic like theirs worked. He was a reserved, ultra-relaxed and goofy guy. Your mother, a tornado of frantic emotions and anxiety. It seems he was never phased by all of it. Maybe a part of you envied it. Envied being loved enough to be accepted.

Your four year old sister seemingly unphased as well by Melissa’s tirade while she’s on her knees at the doorstep wiping ice cream from her red dress. Sol zeroed in on you, waiting for her mother to quit the distressed cleaning so she could run to hug you. Her knees buckling and moving from side to side in anticipation. “Stop all the moving.”

“But it’s my sister!” She whines and you smile at her with arms crossed at the side of your rental. Your mother sighed and let her free. She patters against the driveway in tiny black flats and into your arms.

Disfunction and all, you head to Chucho’s house. Sleigh Ride by The Ronettes ringing loud on the local station. Not a flake on the ground, fifty degree weather, Frankie’s car trailing behind, homes and picket fences littered in green and red.

Christmas in Laredo was in full swing.

The moment you notice that Don Chucho’s driveway was full you begin to panic.

The second you park, Genie crowds your car. Little Annie’s face squished against her mothers shoulder. Asleep already. You hop out of the car and pull her into a hug that stirs the baby. “Sorry!” You whisper, a December breeze causing a rise of hair. Your brother joining in on the hug.

“Merry Christmas.” He whispers, kissing your cheek and his daughters who stirs again. A little girl, too big to be carried but he grabs her anyway. Spoiled little thing. “All of Chucho’s friends are here already apparently. The whole town is in there.” He laughs and you furrow your brows.

“Amazing.” You deadpan. Of course, what could you expect from a Christmas Eve in your hometown. A place where everybody's family is yours even if they don’t like you. You nod and look around to see if everyone is ready to head in, hoping they weren’t so you could breathe. But when you look up you see James picking up Sol and heading toward the house you knew you were running out of time. Frankie’s gaze is burning and he’s reading your body language like a book. How much has changed between the two of you. It took a marriage and a baby to understand you. You'll take what you can get because when he places his hand on your arm you feel the surge of courage.

Genie comes to your other side and you follow your mothers footsteps.

Despite the Chucho house being a second home to your family, your mother still knocks. Even when the holiday music is so loud it bleeds through the windows covered in Christmas gel clings. She knocks politely, of course. Then pounds after a few seconds of silence. Making her fiance snort and Sol giggle.

The door swings open, meeting a smiling Chucho whose eye’s haven't landed on you. “Que bueno! Feliz Navidad.” He brings your mother into a hug, then James, and tickles Sol. His eyes then fall to yours and he takes a step back. His brows furrowed for a moment and you wonder if he knows something you don’t. But then he smiles and pulls you into a hug at the doorway of his home. “Andrea, wow. I’m so– when did you get here?” His hold is tight and he smells like he’s been in the kitchen all day. He smells faintly of Javier.

A smell you thought you forgot until you were hit so rudely with it. It creates a pit in your stomach that you know you can’t shake. He’s excited you can tell but his body language isn’t what you expected.

“We're going to settle the girls in.” Frankie holds your shoulder for a moment and your family leaves you in the hall. You hear them in the next room giving excited hellos and cheek kisses. Giving you privacy in a crowded room. Still, with a face of worry, anticipating your response.

“I flew in this morning. You know it’s the holidays.” Which meant nothing, considering you hadn’t stayed for Christmas in the past two years. You smile weakly, afraid of his reaction. Eyes shifting across your face and he lifts an arm to hold your own. Like he’s bracing you.

His hat casts a shadow on his face in this dimly lit hallway. Behind his head is that god awful picture of you in your cap and gown. Surrounding it are baby pictures of Javier, Frankie and Genie at their wedding, images of his brother and Javier straight faced in police attire. “I didn’t know you were coming– I was going to call to tell you–”

“Papi, was it fifteen minutes for the artichoke?”

You and Chucho both snap your heads at him. Your brain short circuiting. Chucho letting out a sigh and you so desperately want to let out a sob. Your chest rises and he’s staring at you with stars in his eyes. Fork in hand, hair overgrown and a Kiss The Cook apron.

You gaze at Javier Peña after three difficult years. Three years of concern, of healing, of yearning. Of–of, fuck you can’t think. He’s here. He’s here and all you want to do is hug him. Wrap your arms around him and melt into one.

But he’s there in between the cased opening of the kitchen and the living room. Stealing the attention of your family that havent seen him in just as long. Still, his brows furrow and he takes a step forward. “Andrea.” He doesn’t say it like a question, he says it like it’s been on the tip of his tongue for years.

“Javi!” Your brother shouts from the living room and runs straight into him. Taking the attention from your body while it floats somewhere unknown. Genie follows, and your mother. Hugging, and kissing and questioning and shoving babies in his face. Still you stare and he looks over his shoulder at you and his father at the doorway. There, you float, unable to feel, zero gravity. Soaring with your feet on the ground and your heart pounds so loud you feel it in your ears.

Chucho looks back at you. “He came home today too. If I knew-”

You frown, absolutely turning down whatever blame he must be putting on himself. “No-no. Please, it’s okay.” You wonder if other fragile things would like to be treated with less care. You suck in a sharp breath and nod. “I’ll– I just need a moment.” Your jaw clenches trying to prevent your emotions from steam rolling your logic.

Your emotions that tell you to cry and run into his arms. Or your logic that tells you to take a step back to remember the speech you practiced if you ever saw him again. You swallow and look up at him again and turn away.

Javier watched you open the front door and walk out. His heart sinking, he wanted to fall to his knees and beg you to look at him for just more than three seconds. He tunes out the questions from everyone he loves. He’ll feel bad about it tomorrow. He looks up Genie who noticed his fixation on the front door you just stepped out of and she presses her lips together and tilts her head toward the door.

Javier takes the olive branch. He just needs to talk to you. Even if you tell him to go fuck yourself or slap him, or spit in his face. He’ll invite it in. Accept it. Accept anything if it’s coming from your dear hands or delicate mouth. You rot him from the inside out, spoiled love for him. He can’t love anyone else. So it’s worth a try.

He steps away from the chattering circle with a murmur of, one second, and he walks out of the house.

The brisk December air cools his cheeks instantly. Christmas time is strange. Its the only holiday that has a distinct feeling. A feeling of stress, comfort, and emptiness only served with a red bow and yellow lights. He expects to find you right on the porch but you're at the bottom of the stairs. Arm supporting your elbow while you bite your thumbnail nervously. The string lights on the porch roof illuminating your beautifully made up face, and the tears that came with it.

Javier stands at the top, afraid to speak. Twirling the stupid fucking fork in his hand. Feeling like an idiot in his outfit. I would have dressed nicer if I knew you’d be here. You look just as beautiful, different, but still. Your natural curls framing your face, black dress high up on your neck and stockings connecting to black boots. Please speak to me.

You wipe your tears and turn your chin up. Strong girl. Arms crossed, you begin your interrogation, 5 steps between you. “How are you home?” Not a quiver in your voice.

He fights the urge to just ignore your question and run down those stairs and kiss you, wipe your tears, take you away. But he decided to stop being selfish years ago so he answers. “I resigned two weeks ago. I’m back home indefinitely.” He clears his throat. “Forever- I’m back here forever- I mean.” He rasps and you don’t hide your shock. Still you hold composure, eyes gaping a bit but shrinking in an emotion he can't read. Your brows furrow.

Licking your lips, “Your turn.”

Javier’s brows knit closely, “My turn–?”

“Your turn.” Gesturing for him to continue. “You ask a question.”

“Andrea– can we please-”

“No- This is how I want to do it. So we can fucking get back inside and enjoy Christmas.”

Don’t you know I can't seem to enjoy anything if you aren’t mine?

“Are you single?” It’s his first question and you scoff. He shrugs, finding no shame. He needs to know now, before he becomes too hopeful. Before he creates a mess because let's be real, if she’s seeing someone, she won't be after this week.

“Yes. Did you really see a therapist in Colombia?”

Javier smirked, pleased to know that you asked about him. Still you don’t crease at his growing smile. So he bites it back because it looks like you want to rip his head off. “Yes. I went every Thursday for almost three years. She’s finding me a new one in our area.”

“She?” You snap.

And lord forgive him for how the blood rushed to his dick. All of this felt like the conversation you had in 1986 when he came home. He hopes this Christmas ends with you pinned against his bedroom door and him telling you that he will do anything to make it work. His chin juts in a mocking way, playing with fire. “You jealous?”

Your nostrils flare. “You fuck her?”

“Eh. My turn.” He reminds you of the rules of your own game. You purse your lips and he likes to way they pout. “Are you mad at me for asking you not to come see me after the wedding?” It's the question that haunted him. He begged forgiveness from no one, torturing himself for pushing you away. Hoping you understood his intentions and didn’t see it as an invitation for you to stay away forever. But the more time that past, more days of no calls from you, he feared that maybe he fucked it all up.

Your eyes drop. Allowing the sounds of Christmas bells and chatter fill the wind between you two.

“I was angry for a brief amount of time. Then I just felt sad for you. Because I know–” There it was, the crack. “I know you were put through so much and you didn’t want me to pick up the pieces. I would have you-” You look up at him, cheeks stained now. And he knows.

“You would have. I couldn’t let that happen again. I was tired of hurting you.”

“My hands are still scarred. I’ll re-open any wound for you.”

His gums itch and his chin quivers at that. “Do you still feel that way?” He breaks the rules and you don’t seem to care anymore.

“Of course. It's hard being angry at someone who is so far–who was putting their life on the line of their work. Javi– I’d get so sick from worry-” Fuck it, he takes those steps down to you. Cradling your soft face in his hands, thumbs brushing away tears. You fade into him. “I missed you so much.”

“Andrea, I missed you. None of my colleagues liked me because I was so riddled with grief.” He leans in so close, so close he could see the small freckles that hide in the winter. “I didn’t even want to try to get to know anyone.” He thinks of the faceless women that took him to a climax before they were on their way. Sadistically, he hoped you at least found comfort in someone.

You close your eyes and he leans in to kiss you. You turn your face, rejecting him but he doesn’t care. He kisses your cheek in earnest and tastes your tears. Planting soft kisses up your cheek.

“Are you seeing anyone?”

He pauses his kisses and chuckles. “No.”

“Okay.” Eyes, opening you get on your tiptoes and wrap your arms around his neck. Nails entangling in the back of his hair and he’s in heaven. What a privilege it is to be touched by you. Kissing his cheek yourself. “I won't kiss you.”

He was in heaven, your soft lips nipping at his face and his neck. He groans, “That's okay.” You nod against him. Moving your head to the other side of his face, exposing your neck while you kissed his face. He presses his lips to your neck.

“I need time…” You moan, “To think.” Your nails scrape the nape of his neck and he’s getting harder each passing second. How the fuck did I end up here?

“That’s okay– When do you go back– fuck don’t press up on me like that.” Her belly caused a friction in his pants that would definitely spoil the holidays.

“January third– sorry.” You suck on his neck and he groans once more. “Will you sleep with me tonight?”

“Yes.” He says it like it was a no brainer because it was. Whatever mess came with this, he was fully equipped this time. Nothing holding him back. Besides the fact that she lives in fucking New York of course. You pull back from him and he feels the pit in his stomach grow darker and deeper. No, come back, bite me.

“Not like that. I just want to be in bed with you.”

He shrugs, he’ll take whatever he can get. “That's okay. My place or–”

“I have a hotel.”

He shakes his head, craning his head to press his lips against your ear. “If we get into that hotel room I’ll have no choice but to fuck you into that mattress.” he whispers but he means every word. He doesn't care if it’s too fragile to be this forward.

“Your place then.” You step away from him and he feels a great loss in his soul. Eyes roving to the door. “We are being suspicious. We should go inside.”

“I’m not hiding anything this time. If you want to use me for this week as a sleeping companion or a fuck toy or I don’t know a mortal enemy I’ll take it and everyone can mind their fucking business.” Javier snaps, he doesn’t care if you're just making an irrational decision because you miss him. He fucking misses you too, if it means two weeks of playing house- so be it.

Dr. Hertz would be so disappointed.

“Or… Maybe just a friend.” You lie straight through your teeth and he lets you. You straighten your dress and wipe the remaining tears on your cheek and walk right past him.

“Wasn’t it you that told me that you didn’t know how to be my friend in the winter?”

It rings out in the air. He can picture it, Christmas eve 1979. You half asleep at The Smithfield’s Christmas party. You had been so jittery and distant. His idiot teenage brain couldn’t comprehend that the love you had for him made you act outside yourself, especially since for the first time ever you watched him show love to another girl.

Your lips twitch in a smile, seemingly shocked that he remembers just as much as you.

“Merry Christmas.”

#javier peña #javier peña x ofc #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x you #javier peña smut #ao3 #fanfic #javier peña narcos #javier pena x reader

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lilith-little-world · 1 year ago

Note

Hello! I absolutely love your stories and I was wondering if you are open for request? If so, can you do a lmk sun wukong x reader who is a nine tail fox? I imagine that the reader as already have all of their nine tails, so that would make the reader probably as old as wukong (because you know 1 tail = 100 years)

of course only if it is possible for you, it’s ok if you are not open for requests. Thank you and have a nice day! (Keep making amazing stories, you have a serious talent)

I am so sorry for not answering this sooner! I just got busy and then I got even more busier. Then recently I got super sick, but I guess it finally made me have enough time to write when I wasn't knocked out from the meds. But I am still taking requests, I'm just going to be quite slow. And I'm sorry if this isn't what you wanted exactly or it lacks a certain luster to it, I'm running purely on meds right now and hoping I don't get worse in sickness.

Also chapter 3 may come out a little later since I got super sick.

9th Tail Fox Reader x lmk Sun Wukong|| Oneshot

The sight of the once-flourishing city made you sigh in disappointment. It was tiring to see such good potential go to waste, especially under your watch.

You wander in your shop, restocking and organizing the place. You can’t attract desperate people if the shop doesn’t look presentable after all. The ancient and magical artifacts are displayed nicely, while some more medicinal and less magical artifacts are more at hand reach. It's a nice little shop you have been building up through the long centuries. It's good to know that no matter how badly life brings you down, a fox spirit like you always bounces right back up.

A small bell rang when someone entered through the door. Someone different…

The smell was strong and powerful, nearly knocking you out of your human form. There's only one being that could get that reaction out of you. Someone you told to never show their face to you ever again.

You turn to the door to see a ginger simian. Who waltzes right in, as if he owned the place. Checking the old artifacts, searching for something.

“Nope, get out, I am NOT getting wrapped in your messes, again.” You immediately storm your way up to him. Dropping your human act and looks.

“Hey, cool stuff you got here. I would love to check it but I'm quite busy and on a task.” He ignores your aggressive attitude and continues to look around.

“You- Didn't I say to get out? Leave! I don't want to be wrapped up in your messes again!” You kept blocking his path, shifting into a smokey fox form. However, he just dodges you and continues searching your shop.

“Tell me, do you have any, artifacts or info on someone named the Lady Bone Demon?” He sits on the counter and finally looks at you. Even though he tries to keep his lazy attitude, there was an edge to it. Ready to get serious if the moment calls for it.

You stand there for a second contemplating, staring down at him. A few more moments pass, so you can see what his intentions were exactly. Then a chuckle escapes from your throat before turning into laughter.

“You really came all the way here for something like that? Who or what lead you here to begin with? You certainly came a long way home to visit little ol’ me, after what you done.” Your smokey fox form grew in size, as it bare its fangs and growled at him. He kept his lazy attitude.

“Crazy, huh? I heard from a friend that you know a map that leads to the Lady Bone Demon's old place. It would be nice if you hand it over and forget this ever happened-”

“And why should I help you? I'm running a business here, and I need payment. Now if I were you, I'll pay up, since I'm being so generous today.” You cut him off as your face got close to his. For once his lazy attitude broke for a second, he tensed up as he leans away. Nervous and possibly a bit flustered from the sudden close approximation.

“W-well, I don't have anything on me now but I can get you something.” He mutters, before clearing his throat. Trying to regain his composure back.

“News flash, I don't want anything that isn't my tail back, that you cut off! Either you give it back or no map.” Your form shifts into a more smaller one but just large enough to tower over him. Wrapping your many tails around him, your fox face next to his ear.

“Now tell me, what will it be, Sun Wukong?”

He was silent, for once he was quiet.

“If I don't find out what she is planning soon, she’ll destroy everything. I know, you hate me after everything but we both know, if I didn't do it. The mortals in this city would have. You know how humans get, when misfortune comes, they need someone to blame. I am sorry that it had to be you, but you know I was only doing my job. So please, help me on this one.” He said while staring at the ground, his hands clutching the edge of the counter.

All you can do is stare at the sight in silence. It wasn't every day, he apologizes. However, will you actually accept his apology?

You let out a tired sigh, your smokey from jumping off the counter. Searching the shelves before landing in front of him. Back in your human form, holding a map. You tossed it at him.

“As much as I would love to have my ninth tail back, but I must say, it isn't every day the mighty Sun Wukong comes in apologizing and begging for help. Well, I guess that's a good enough payment.”

“Heh, I get it, I don't apologize and should have sooner. Then again, there weren't any balloons or cards saying ‘Sorry for cutting off your ninth tail and making you stuck being a regular fox spirit.’ Apparently, that doesn't happen much to have it be on a card.” He laughs getting off the counter. Checking out the map as he slowly exits the shop.

“Hey if my great plan does work and the world hasn't ended, want to...catch up?”

You raise a brow at him.

“Oh? Wukong, you still aren't smooth, not even after all these years.”

“Hey, I spent a few centuries on an island by myself. I’m just rusty, and don't pretend you aren't too.” It was his turn to lean close. His face is close to yours as he smirks. You were stunned, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“Oh please, unlike you I had a business to run. Now go, I won't be kind enough to say it again.”

“Then is that a yes? Can we catch up?”

You close the door shut the moment you push him out. A soft chuckle left you as you turned back around to see the spot where Wukong was sitting. Though you notice something new there, it was a fluffy tail. The one you lost. A smile forms on your face.

“That cheeky monkey.”

#lmk reader #lmk sun wukong #lmk x reader #lmk monkey king #lmk x y/n #sun wukong #sun wukong x reader #lmk y/n #lmk sun wukong x reader #monkey king #monkey king x reader #lmk monkey king x reader #lmk wukong #wukong x reader #lmk oneshot #sun wukong x y/n #lego monkie kid

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wooahaeruby · 4 months ago

Text

Chapter 12: Heart On The Line

Chapter Word Count: 4,193

(including spoilers) 1) SOMEONE GETS SHOT, IT'S MESSY. 2) Major Character near death experience (Someone flat lines) 3) REALLY BAD DESCRIPTION OF MEDICAL ENVIRONMENT / Someone puts their hand in a body (non-sexual, actually horrible) (this is here because I- listen….this is a heavy chapter) 4) Mouse has some trauma, we'll get into that later, kinda 5) Gross depiction of blood. 6) Someone throws up 7) This is my villain arc 8) Everyone is sad. 9) I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it.

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Seungcheol had requested your presence at the penthouse in the middle of the week late at night, having one of their men drive you over. Wonwoo had sent a message to your work computer about it and once you replied, it was gone.

The man had walked you from the car, to the elevator, and to the set of double doors that separated you from the second home SVT shared. He opened the door and you entered but closed the door behind you.

Looking about, no one else was in the penthouse from what you saw. The place was quiet and you didn’t want to poke around in their business by walking down the halls.

“Hello?” You called out, sliding your hands into your pajama pants pockets and got closer to the hall but didn’t step through the arching barrier. “Seungcheol?”

Was this some kind of test? You thought, furrowing your brow in confusion.

Taking your phone from your back pocket, you pulled up his number and called, hoping to hear a ringtone but nothing came. Anxiety bubbled in your chest and you tried to call Seokmin but it went straight to voicemail.

“What the fuck-”

“Ma’am!” The driver threw the door open, panic in his eyes. “ King has told me to bring you somewhere else-”

That didn’t ease the anxiety, you felt sick to your stomach. “What’s going on?”

“I- Something has happened.”

The car ride there was nerve wracking and each moment that past made you want to crawl out of your skin. The driver was speeding through the city towards the warehouses near the waterways, the red lights he had to stop were taunting you maliciously. He did not say a single entire ride to the new destination. You’ve never been this far into the warehouse district and it was mostly abandoned but the building you pulled up to had Pledis Shipping written on a sign. The lights were on and the driver rushed you from the car and in through the main door.

The openness of the building was weighing down on you, it was dizzying as unknown faces stared at you as you rushed around them towards the back. You didn’t bother to notice the crates and trucks that littered around, things being moved or looked through. You stood out for sure in some old pajama pants and bleach tarnished hoodie, not wanting to change for a simple meeting with Seungcheol.

Ushered into the back of the building, under the second level overhang, you stopped dead in your tracks. The floor was covered in a trail of blood, still fresh by the bright color. The sight made you want to throw up.

“-’am!” The shout had you snapping out of the trance placed upon you.

A loud rumble of a scream down the hall had you moving once more. There in the hall was half of SVT, they were either pacing the floor or sitting on it, back pressed against the wall and heads low. Chan was hanging his head and Minghao sat beside him, rubbing his back. Seokmin was holding onto Soonyoung and Junhui like his life depended on it. Seungcheol was pacing at the far end near the door, speaking with a teary eyed Seungkwan. Wonwoo wasn’t to be seen, but you assumed he was at Pandora and was making his way down into the city as you spoke.

“Sir I-” The driver began and you pushed passed, eyes still on the blood trail that lined the floor.

“Mouse, you shouldn’t-” Seungcheol called out but you were already opening the door.

“Jihoon, knock him out already!” Jeonghan yelled, trying his best to hold Mingyu down with Vernon as he thrashed and screamed out in pain.

The room you stepped into was more of an emergency room type area. There were a few medical beds with machines beside them and cabinets upon cabinets of supplies. The left wall held two doors, both labeled ‘shower/bathroom’ for convenience.

In the far right corner was a sectioned off with a smaller room, windows outline the top to be able to see in. Jihoon was struggling to get the needle in with how much the taller man was lashing out.

Rooted in place, you stared in disbelief at everything before you.

Mingyu was hurt, blood was on the floors leading exactly where your gaze was placed on. Jeonghan was yelling for Jihoon to keep trying but each time it got harder and harder.

Your feet were moving before you had a chance to think. Pulling off your sweatshirt and leaving you in the tanktop below, you hurried to the sink and washed your hands and arms as fast as you could, thankful your hair was already pulled back out of your face. You didn’t know what you were going to do to help but you needed to help.

Jeonghan yelled your name but you ignored him.

“Give it to me and all three of you hold him down-” Your voice was shaky but Mingyu didn’t stop thrashing on the table and he was getting blood everywhere, wasting all his energy in the pain of it.

Jihoon looked to Jeonghan for an order and he warily nodded. The syringe was placed in your hand and Jihoon moved to use all his strength to hold town Mingyu’s shoulder. You grabbed his bicep when he was stable enough and jabbed the needle into his arm, pushing the sedative. Thankfully it didn’t take long before it kicked in and the thrashing and screaming went from violent to calm, somewhat shallow breathing.

Jeonghan grabbed surgical scissors and quickly cut open Mingyu’s shirt, revealing something you only thought you’d see in movies. In his lower right abdomen were two holes, both leaking blood at an alarming rate. You rounded the table and Jeonghan ordered Jihoon and Vernon to collect gauze, forceps, and anything else he could need. Off the counter, you grabbed a handful of gauze and started to apply pressure to the wounds the best you could.

“I’m going to need a blood bag,” Jeonghan called out as he hooked Mingyu up to a heart monitor, blood pressure cuff, and placed an oxygen mask. Jihoon wasted no time in placing an IV and starting a saline drip to get everything going. He pushed a few small syringes of medicine through the line silently.

Looking over to the monitor that beeped steadily with his heart rate, it was low but his blood pressure looked decent given the circumstances. The gauzes beneath your hands were getting soaked and warm blood was coating your palms and fingers. You threw the other ones aside, out of the walkway field, and grabbed more, leaning as much of your weight as you could down on the wounds. The other three were moving around you quickly but it was all a relative blur, keeping your focus on the task literally at hand.

“Mouse, I need you to step back.” Jeonghan stated calmly.

Lifting your head, you could see the concern on his face. His eyes were darting between Mingyu and you, keeping the best neutral face he could. You didn’t want to move, your mind was racing.

The blood wasn’t stopping. How did this happen? Why did it happen? Is he going to die?

Jeonghan held your stare before slowly moving his now clean hands over one of your wrist and pulled it back.

“I’m not leaving.” You finally managed to say and he nodded again.

Dropping your hands to your side, you stepped back. In a flurry of movements, Jihoon and Jeonghan were starting their work. Vernon assisted in getting what they needed, but you lent a hand in hanging things over, grabbing more items, and overall being an extra set of hands if needed.

You stayed quiet, watching them all work, calling things out or cursing at something going on. It was sickening and painful to watch them press and dig into the wounds, trying to find the bullets. It was clear there wasn’t an exit to both holes with how much they were frantically working.

“Vernon, put your two fingers here.” Jeonghan pointed and without hesitation, Vernon was placing his fingers against one of Mingyu’s bullet wounds, applying the pressure asked, while Jeonghan was holding a small retractor to see inside. “ Fuck- I can’t see anything with all this blood. Give me the suction tubing.”

Jihoon was grabbing it and the hiss the machine made as it extracted any blood from the wound sounded distant in your head. Jeonghan said something and a pair of long forceps were placed in his hands and the ends of it disappeared inside of Mingyu’s abdomen. The beeping of the monitors was the only thing grounding you to reality, letting you know that Mingyu was alive, that he was breathing, that he had a fighting chance.

You took a few steps closer to see what was happening more clearly. Jeonghan was holding a retractor still, keeping the first wound open while Jihoon was trying to get the bleeding of the second to at least slow down. Vernon was holding gauze to catch any trailing blood and keeping his fingers right where Jeonghan had told him to.

“I got the first one-” Jeonghan yelled out, relief flooding your mind for a moment. He was slow in taking it out to not hit anything internally and dropped the bullet on the tray to his side. “We need to get the other out and close it up quickly-”

The machine that was monitoring Mingyu’s heart blared a loud, ear piercing alarm that had your heart dropping to your stomach. A chorus of curses were shouted out and it became clear that Mingyu was flatlining. They scrambled to start preventative measures but you were quick to move, pulling up a stool you found in the corner of the room and pushed Vernon out of the way to start CPR.

If you weren’t keeping the blood pumping through Mingyu’s body, you would have laughed. You were very angrily yelling the lyrics to ‘ Stayin’ Alive’ in your head, compressing down on his chest with all your might. If he didn’t wake up with bruised ribs, you weren’t doing it right, that’s what your first-aid instructor told you years ago.

Jihoon and Jeonghan were quick to put up the blood bag and placed another IV, saying something about him losing too much blood and needing more to sustain his heartbeat. It took a few moments and a dose of whatever medicine Jihoon pushed to help him, but the rhythmic beating of his heart came back and it was steady.

You climbed off the stool to give space once more but adrenaline was pumping through your limbs, hands trembling and breath shaky. Blood was still coating your hands from earlier and you couldn’t bother to step outside now. Sweat clung to your skin, a gross layer that sent chills down your spine in the cool air. Jeonghan, Jihoon and Vernon were working fast but skillfully, wasting no time to get everything done. Backing up, you placed yourself against the wall and just slid down it, letting yourself rest on the floor, eyes never leaving them as they did their work.

The tightness in your chest had you heaving breaths in and out, pulling at your shirt like it was going to help. It felt like the room was spinning, your pulse was pounding in your head and an agonizing headache debilitated you. Images you never wanted to remember flashing behind your eyelids with every blink, each chilling you to the core.

It took a good two hours for everything to be done. They found the second bullet and needed to search for any internal damage and patch up anything that was caught in the crossfire. More gauze pads were thrown on the floor, needing to have a clear field of work. You were letting the rhythmic beating of Mingyu’s heart calm you, still scared it might stop once more.

Jeonghan had requested your help towards the end with cleaning off the blood around each stitched up incision and bandaging Mingyu up. Jihoon muttered something about pushing antibiotics as a precaution which both men agreed was for the best.

Mingyu wasn’t out of the woods just yet, he was probably going to need one more bag of blood and it would be a waiting game of when he was going to wake up.

Though you didn’t have to, you started to organize the tools that would need to be cleaned and sterilized, placing them all in a row by type of tool while the other three finished up. Your anxiety was fueling this tired perfectionist streak to give some sort of control to the situation. You moved more or less on autopilot, picking up gauze pads and tossing them in the biohazards trash they had in the room, seeing that your hands were already dried with blood. You used other pads to kneel down and wipe up some blood but it could only do so much, blood was horrible to clean and the iron smell was nauseating the longer you breathed it in.

“Hey,” Jeonghan knelt down and stopped you. Your eyes were fixated on the crimson red streaking the floor. “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”

“But it’s a mess-”

“We’ll have someone clean it up. Don’t worry about it.” Jeonghan took your hand and removed the pad from it, standing you up not a moment after. Both of you had a decent amount of blood on your hands and wrists, Jeonghan’s extending up to his elbows and definitely on his gray button up.

Quietly, you spoke, keeping your voice as steady as you could. “I want to stay here with him.”

“I know, I’m sure he would like that.” Jeonghan spoke softly, leading you from the surgical room and into the medical bay. “We’ll get you some clothes to change into and have you take a shower while we transfer him into a cot so he can rest, okay?”

With a nod of your head, you were walked to the bathroom and encouraged to head in and clean up. Jeonghan told you to take as long as you needed and promised that Mingyu would be waiting right in the room when you came out.

Left alone in the bathroom, the first thing you did was empty the entire contents of your stomach in the toilet. You had been holding it back since you had blood on your hands and the headache only pounded harder. You wanted to cry, really you should be crying, but it didn’t feel like there was anything to cry. Everything felt out of touch – numb – and you just wanted to get clean.

You didn’t know how long you were in there if you were being honest. Once the water hit your back after stripping, everything moved in slow motion. The scorching water burned, but it hurt less than the pain that thrumbed in your chest. With your head hanging, you watched as steaks of blood dripped from your wrists and hands, letting you process the last few hours.

Mingyu nearly died. Whatever situation they found themselves in was bad enough to result in Mingyu getting shot. You didn’t pay attention to any of the guys outside earlier when hurrying passed, not knowing what their injuries were, if any at all. As you thought over the situation that you didn’t have full context to, anger was starting to build up, the burning taste of stomach acid just at the back of your throat once more.

Scrubbing every inch of your skin came after the blood was nearly water-washed off. The small hand towel and antiseptic soap was enough for the job and left your skin bright pink. A knock had you jumping and bracing yourself on the walls behind the thick shower curtain.

“I’m just putting some clothes in here for you. He is in a proper bed once you are done washing up.” Jeonghan’s voice bounced off the walls when the door opened and was quickly closed soon after.

You finished your shower and toweled off, tossing on the sweater and joggers provided, each item warm and soft against your irritated skin. Letting the towel rest atop your head to catch any droplets of water, you checked yourself in the mirror, wiping the fog off the surface with a hand. Through the clouded image of yourself, you could see that you looked pale. Your eyes drooped but you knew you weren't going to get any sleep tonight between staring at Mingyu’s heart monitor and waiting for him to wake up. The headache was still a dull ache behind your eyes.

Shaking off the discomfort, you tugged the towel from your head and pushed the door to the bathroom open, your socked feet shuffling against the clean white floors.

“-Know she was gonna rush in-” Seungcheol whispered to Joshua and Jeonghan, throwing his hands up in defeat, the three standing off towards the entrance of the room. “She just went in on her own.”

The room was flooded with all of SVT. Vernon, Jihoon, and Jeonghan had showered in less time than it took for you to. Wonwoo was sitting beside Mingyu’s bed, head against the edge of the mattress. Seungkwan was hugging Vernon’s side, dried layers of tears still streaking his cheeks, eyes red and puffy. Minghao and Junhui stood at the foot of the bed, Minghao’s hands gripping the end of the bed frame to the point his knuckles were turning white. Jihoon was grabbing some medicine from the cabinet to your right, mumbling something you couldn’t catch under his breath. Seokmin, Soonyoung, and Chan were sitting opposite Wonwoo, the youngest holding Mingyu’s hand tightly.

“That isn’t an excuse, you should have stopped her-” Joshua scolded in a hushed voice. They weren't as quiet as they thought, but everything felt too loud and too bright. The overstimulation that coursed through you was dreadful.

Ignoring them, you walked over to Wonwoo’s side of the bed and dropped a hand gently on his back, letting your nails drag against the fabric of his t-shirt. He didn’t lift his head but he didn’t make you stop so you used it as a way to soothe yourself, knowing that you could be providing a smidge of comfort to someone else. None of you spoke around the bed, there wasn’t a need to. It smelled too clean now that you’ve showered. Your feet were cold against the vinyl flooring. The image of a blood covered Mingyu kept flashing in your mind.

“Enough.” Jeonghan said, louder than the two. “It’s over, let’s get through this.”

“SVT,” Seungcheol’s voice rang out and most of them looked to their leader, Wonwoo even lifting his head. “Jeonghan can’t have the horde here all night, you know his rules.”

A few grumbles of protest followed.

“If you want to sleep upstairs on the couches, the floor up there, I don’t care, but I need you out. I don’t need to have to push you all aside and have you crowd my field if anything is to happen.” Jeonghan crossed his arms. “And don’t argue, this was the same with Seokmin and Jihoon. I’ll be here all night with Jihoon.”

Another wave of protests followed. Seungkwan looked ready to cry again. Their love for the tallest was heartwarming but Jeonghan was right. Though this wasn’t a hospital, it was enough of a medical room to warrant the need for space in preparation for any disaster. They were averse to the idea of leaving, but with more prodding from Seungcheol that Mingyu would be fine and they needed to sleep, they left one by one. Jihoon administered whatever he grabbed earlier with more space and checked each machine to make sure it was hooked up properly, leaving once he was finished up. The oldest three stayed near the door and Wonwoo was the last of the younger ones to leave but you continued to rub his back.

“Wonwoo,” You said barely above a whisper, letting your fingers draw continuous patterns on his back. “I’ll stay here, you know I won’t let anything happen.”

He lifted his head to look at you, eyes shiny from unshed tears. His eyes study you, likely looking just as hollow and worried as he was. “Call me if anything changes.”

Giving him a nod, you stepped back to let him leave, filling the space where he sat previously. You scooted the chair a little closer and gently took Mingyu’s much larger hand into your own, turning it slowly into a more comfortable position. Any move you made scared you enough to think it was going to hurt him.

“Jihoon, go up and take a break, I’ll handle the rest for a bit.” You heard Jeonghan and footsteps out the door were a signal the shorter man left.

The three chairs across from you were soon filled, the three oldest deflating and taking a breath for what felt like the first time all day. Raising your eyes to them, Joshua was rubbing his face and pushing his hair back, Seungcheol was slouched, head hanging back with his eyes closed and Jeonghan looked exhausted, slightly more composed then the other two but you could see the worry behind his eyes. It might have been hard on them, they were the heads of the whole operation. You wouldn’t be surprised if the three blamed themselves for what happened to Mingyu.

“Tell me what happened.” You broke the shell of silence, keeping your voice low as if it would disturb the man knocked out before you.

Seungcheol sighed but didn’t move. “They were at that building where you first saw us. We bought it as extra storage. One of the distributors we had was trying to two time us, Mingyu was there helping oversee the hand offs with Chan, Soonyoung, and Jihoon. God, he wasn’t even supposed to be there but another person was needed because of how large the case was.” You’ve never heard Seungcheol more upset since knowing him. There was a shake to his voice that had your heart breaking. “Shots were fired and Mingyu got hit twice since he was the closest to the fuckers. Soonyoung drove here as fast as he could and he got here not even ten minutes before you showed up.”

“Did they get-”

“They handled it.” Joshua answered before you could fully get the question out.

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you let your thumb run over Mingyu’s knuckles, watching the rise and fall of his chest with each breath. “If you three want to take some time to rest, I’m not moving.”

Joshua shook his head, “You don’t have to, Mouse. We can have someone take you home.”

Your eyes moved to him and your eyes narrowed in a glare. “I’m not moving.” You repeated sternly.

“Ah, if looks could kill.” Jeonghan tried to lighten the mood with some humor, but you moved the glare to him and even he tensed up at your icy gaze. “...Sorry.”

Seungcheol met you with a glare of his own, thick eyebrows drawn together in a frown.

Should you have backed down? Yeah, probably. But really you knew that they needed a moment to collect themselves and you needed a moment to try and wipe the traumatizing image of Mingyu flatlining from your memory by watching him.

You held his glare, tightening your hold on Mingyu’s hand, mirroring him with a frown of your own. In the moment, you weren’t scared of Seungcheol, not that you were fully scared after the many encounters you’ve had with him. Sure, he could threaten to kill you, you’ve probably done more than enough for him to toss you to the curb. He could actually kill you to tie up loose ends for all you cared, but you weren’t going to move from this spot until Mingyu woke up. You’d go out kicking and screaming if they tried to drag you out.

“Cheol, I don’t think we are winning this one.” Joshua placed a hand on Seungcheol’s leg and patted it. “And before you think it, I don’t think threatening her will make her back down.”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’m exhausted so I’m not even going to fight you, Mouse. I’ll have Jihoon and I switch out every hour to check up on things.” He stood and stretched, long limbs playfully hitting against his friends. Both swatted him away.

Seungcheol grumbled out a ‘ Fine’ before raising to his feet. Joshua followed behind the oldest as he exited and Jeonghan went to a cabinet and grabbed a neatly folded blanket. He returned and unfolded it, draping it over you to keep you warm. He ruffled your still wet hair and soon left. When the door closed, you leaned forward and folded your arm to cradle your head against the mattress. Really you more collapsed than anything, criss crossing your legs in the chair to get comfortable the best you could.

Tag List is Open! Comment on the BSH Master List to get added!

Tag List:

@unlikelysublimekryptonite @iiaweirdo @aurorajoye

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canirove · 3 months ago

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Rice, Rice, baby | Chapter 18

Author's note: 10 points if you can guess who the guy on the header is 😅 Finding pics for them sometimes is so difficult 🙈

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

“Oh, looks like Alex and his parents just arrived” my mum says. “Olivia, can you keep an eye on this while I go greet them? I don't want your dad to eat burnt food on his birthday.”

“Of course.” But before she can leave, Alex's mum shows up in the kitchen.

“Hello, ladies. How is that lunch going?”

“Almost ready” I say.

“Oh, Liv. How are you? Is that bug you had over Christmas gone?”

“We are getting there” I smile.

“You look a lot better. And I'm sure a piece of my lasagna would help a lot” she says, uncovering the tray she was carrying. “It is your favourite.”

“Oh, thank you very…”

“Olivia, are you alright?” my mum says. “You've gone so pale…”

“I… I think I'm gonna be sick” I reply, quickly running towards the sink.

“Olivia!” she says, holding my hair while everything I have eaten today leaves my body.

“My God, child. What happened?” Alex's mum says.

“I… I don't know. I smelled the lasagna and…” It's coming back. Help.

“What is going on here? What is that noise?” my dad says while walking into the kitchen.

“Olivia isn't feeling well.”

“Oh, my darling. What happened?”

“The… lasagna. The smell…” I mumble, my forehead resting on the sink. It is cold and it feels so nice…

“The smell of the lasagna made you sick? You've always loved it! We've actually had to stop you from eating it all more than once” my dad chuckles.

“Not anymore.”

“Not anymore? My darling, are you alright?”

“I think the bug she had over Christmas isn't completely gone” my mum says.

“That doesn't make any sense. The tests Dr. Smith ran said she was fine.”

“And I'm fine” I say, slowly moving from the sink. “I just need a nap.”

“Olivia, you don't look fine. At all” Alex's dad says. Now everyone is in the kitchen, giving me pitiful looks. All but Alex, who is, once again, looking at me in a way I don't understand.

“I think we should take you to the hospital, darling. They may see something that Dr. Smith's tests didn't see.”

“I'm fine, dad. I don't need more tests. And besides, it's your birthday. I don't want to ruin it for you.”

“You won't be ruining anything, darling. Let's go.”

“I said no, dad!” I say, raising my voice. “I don't want to go to the hospital, I'm fine. I just need a nap.”

“Olivia…”

“No! Leave me alone, I'm fine!” I insist.

“Tell them, Liv. Tell them what is actually going on” Alex says, his eyes going from mine to my stomach and back at my face. Oh… my God.

He knows. He knows I'm pregnant, that's why he's been looking at me the way he has. But how? How did he find out? Only Kennedy and Madders know and… The cafeteria. When he fell. He heard us talking that day, that must be it.

“What do you mean? What does he mean?” my dad asks.

“If you don't tell them I will, Liv.”

“If I don't… Are you threatening me, Alex?”

“I'm just doing what is best for you” he says.

“What is best for me? Seriously?”

“Yeah” he shrugs.

“Is anyone going to tell me what the hell is going on or not?” my dad asks, now being the one raising his voice.

“Liv is pregnant.”

“You fucking piece of shit” I say, closing the space between me and Alex and punching him.

“Olivia!” my mum screams, holding me before I hit him again.

“I fucking hate you, Alex! I don't want to see you ever again! Get the fuck out of my house!” I yell while he just stares at me, his hand on his bleeding lip. Looks like the training with Micky is useful for more than just one thing.

“Olivia, is… is it true?” my dad says behind me. “Are you… Are you pregnant?”

“She is, Mr. Chapman. All the symptoms are there. The tiredness, the nausea… And you won't believe who the father is.”

“Shut the fuck up, Alex!” I yell again, trying to get free of my mum's grip. I'm killing him. I'm fucking killing him.

“Olivia… you didn't get pregnant from James, did you?”

“What? He and Kennedy are like family to me, mum. I would never do that!”

“I… I'm sorry. But you spend so much time together that… I don't know” she shrugs.

“He isn't a Tottenham player, don't worry” Alex says. That's it. It's over. He's gonna say Declan is the father, my dad will kick me out, and I will find myself living under a bridge while pregnant.

“Then who is the father?”

“I am” Alex smiles.

“What?” everyone says, me included.

“I am the father of Liv's baby” he says, smiling from ear to ear. What… the actual fuck.

“Oh… oh! That's wonderful news!” my dad chuckles. “Finally!”

“Finally?” I say, my eyes still focused on Alex and the stupid grin on his face.

“Since you were kids we always thought you would end up together” he says. “Our two families becoming one.”

“Oh, Olivia. Congratulations!” Alex's mum ways while hugging me.

“We are gonna be grandads!” my dad says, hugging Alex's.

“Is this why you two have been behaving so… weird lately?” my mum asks. “Because you were seeing each other?”

“Yes” Alex says.

“No” I reply.

“Yes or no?” she asks.

“We'll have time to discuss all that later. Now is time to celebrate!” my dad says. “Thank you for this birthday present, darling. You've made me so happy” he says while hugging me.

“You're… welcome?”

“And thank you to you too, Alex. Ah, a grandchild! I can't believe it!” my dad says while giving him a big hug, the stupid grin he's had on his face since he dropped the bomb still there. God, I wish I could punch him again.

Like... this can't be real. This has to be one of my nightmares. Any moment now the killing will start and I will wake up.

But as they all keep celebrating, opening a bottle of champagne and laughing, nothing happens. My mum is the only one who looks a bit more concerned, but other than that, there are happy faces wherever I look. Pure bliss.

Because this isn't a dream. My family finally knows that I'm pregnant, but they think Alex is the father.

What. The. Fuck.

#declan rice #declan rice fanfic #declan rice x reader #declan rice imagine #football fanfic #football imagine

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burrowbaddie · 2 years ago

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Selfish

Joe Burrow x Female Reader

Series Summary: Childhood friends to lovers to nothing. You and Joe had history, you were each others first and then you were nothing. Years later, you guys rekindle the flame but with more obstacles in the way this time.

Chapter 2 Summary: You and Joe decide it’s time to be selfish.

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: Afab!reader, smut, swearing. Oral (female & male receiving), vaginal fingering, penetrative sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cheating! (You are the side girl, sorry.), mild violence (small fight scene).

Series Masterlist

Joe flips through the photos while you pace your kitchen. He places the pictures down with a long sigh.

"Maybe someone is just being funny."

"Joseph, nothing about this is funny. They know where I live. They personally dropped this off."

"What do you want me to do? I hire a bodyguard and-"

"No. That will draw more attention. I don't know. If this gets out-"

"Cheeks, look at me. I won't let anything happen to you. I will find out who did this. They have nothing here."

"They have a photo of us kissing. You're publicly dating everyone's favorite news anchor. If this gets out, I will be the one whose name gets dragged through the mud. Not yours and not Nicole's. You said you would break up with her."

"And I am. Her mother is really sick. I don't want to be an asshole." Joe takes a deep breath realizing how that sounds right now. He pulls you in a hug and kisses your forehead.

"We should stop. This isn't good."

Joe doesn't let you go. He knows it's wrong, and he knows he should end the affair, but Joe doesn't want to lose you again. He won't.

"We will figure it out."

"You should go. I'll call you later. I have to do this thing with my mom and about Thanksgiving. Just forget I asked. My dad will understand."

"Stop. I'll come. Remember how we used to spend Thanksgiving: my family and your family? Game boards and watching our dads argue over a simple game." Joe kisses your lips and grabs his keys, leaving you to your thoughts. Mya comes over a few hours later to cheer you up. You have no one to confide in right now, and you're close to spilling everything to her. She hands you a glass of wine.

"Talk to me. I can see the wheels turning in that big head of yours."

"I'm in love with some I cannot have." You confess.

"Why not? You're a gorgeous independent woman; what idiot wouldn't want you?" Mya laughs, throwing her head back. You stare into the glass of red wine.

"He has a girlfriend."

"Oh. OH!" Mya puts her glass down and turns her complete attention to you. You're about to gush on everything when her phone rings. Mya groans and grabs it, answering a call from her mother. You down your glass and pour another glass while waiting. Mya returns, jumping down on the couch and smiling.

"He's not married, so I don't see the harm. He's the one in the wrong, not you. It's not your relationship, so who cares." She encourages you to make yourself happy and keep seeing the guy. You met Mya during your first year in residency. She was a couple of years older than you, but she reminded you of Quinn. After a few more glasses and a pep talk, you are feeling yourself. Mya heads to the guest room to sleep, and you take the time to send Joe risky photos. In recond time, Joe is facetiming you. You fix your robe and sit on your bed.

"Hello, Joey," You grin, holding the phone up, only showing your face.

"Stop playing with me. Put the phone down."

"What?" You can't hold your laughter when you place the phone on the bed. You hear Joe groan, complaining about you. Standing up, you drop your robe to the ground and pick up the phone. This time letting Joe get the full view.

"Fucking hell, Cheeks. I'm not even home right now." Joe groans, rolling his eyes.

"Where are you?"

"Reviewing plays and watching old footage at Tee's place. Half of me is ready to leave so I can fuck-"

"Yo J, we're going to order late-night take out you in?" Ja'Marr calls. Joe mutes his phone and puts it down. You pout and put your robe back on. Joe returns to the phone, frowning.

"I gotta go. This game Sunday is-"

"I get it. Go ahead." You nod your head and end the call without a goodbye. You decide to drink some water, take some pills, and let sleep do the rest. In the morning, you spend a good chunk of the day in bed trying to catch up on the Netflix show "You." Your phone starts ringing, and you see it's a facetime from Quinn.

"Quinn, what's up."

"I can't get married! Like, think of how hot I am. To be tied down but one extremely hot and wealthy man? He is so lucky!" She shouts. You laugh at your friend and sit up in bed.

"He is fortunate to have you."

"Fran told me you and Joe are on speaking terms. I'm glad to hear that. Have you been okay? Sorry, I'm such a shit friend."

"No. Stop. You're busy, and I understand. I am also busy. I'm doing okay. With everything."

Quinn gives you that look, the look of "I know you are lying." look. You take a deep breath.

"I will uninvite him to my wedding," Quinn states, making you laugh again. She always knows how to cheer you up.

"It's fine. Joe is your friend just as much as he is mine. We're okay. I promise."

"I worry about you. I don't want you to spiral down because of that prick."

"You and I both know Joe isn't a prick."

"Hurting my best friend makes anyone a prick. I could use a more vulgar word if you want."

"I'm fine. I swear. And we don't see each other often, so it's okay."

You stay on the phone with Quinn for another hour before hanging up and deciding to visit your parents. Your mom immediately starts nagging you about settling down and giving her grandkids. You have no plans to have children anytime soon. Leaving your mother, you decide to go downstairs and spend time with your dad before dinner.

"Is Joey boy coming to Thanksgiving dinner?"

"He has a girlfriend. I'm sure he will spend it at her house with her family."

"How did you mess that up? You guys were attached at the hip before."

"Dad. We mutually ended things. I wanted my career, and he wanted his."

"I know. But you were sad for a long time. I was really worried about you. I am proud of you—my beautiful little doctor." He kisses your head just as your mother calls for dinnertime. You stay at your parent's house pretty late. When you get home, Joe is sitting on your steps. You unlock the door, and he follows you in. Your mind tells you to kick him out, but when he touches you, your sense dulls, and you become putty in his hands. Joe places you down on the bed and kisses you softly. He whispers how much he loves you with each kiss, starting from your lips and working his way down your body. You pull Joe back up to kiss him—just a simple kiss. Joe starts down at you with some much love in his eyes. You look away and push him off.

"I'm tired." You whisper, wiping your tears. Joe pulls you close to him, and you both drift to sleep. In the morning, while getting ready for work, Joe sits on the bed, watching you with a grin.

"You look so hot in your doctor uniform."

"Joey, it's 4 am. Cool yourself down, boy."

"I can't!" He pouts, turning on the tv. You sit on his lap and kiss his soft lips. Joe sneaks his hand into your pants, slowly rubbing you through your panties. You look down at him, and he is wearing a big smile. Joe uses his index finger to slip past your panties into your drenched folds. You arch your back and moan as he rubs your clit in circles. Your body damn near shuts down when you hear Nicole's voice coming from the tv. All at once, you pull his hand out and stand up, fixing yourself. You can see the large strain on Joe's sweatpants. Joe stands up, adjusts himself in his pants, and turns off the TV, not before sucking on the finger that was just in your cunt. You shudder and walk away. You go your separate ways, and it's hard making it through a long shift when your mind is stuck on this morning. All you can think about is getting off and going home, calling him over to fuck you into oblivion. But that doesn't happen; in fact you and Joe don't see each other until Thanksgiving, when he shows up with his family and his girlfriend.

"It is so nice to meet you. I feel like I'm meeting a celebrity." Your mother gushes over Nicole as you push food around your plate. Joe won't even look your way. He knows how fucked up this is, but Nicole asked to come with the family at the last min. He couldn't say no.

"Pass the mashed potatoes, sweetie." Your dad shouts down to you. You pick it up and pass it to Joe's mom. Joe kicks you gently under the table. You don't look up. You refuse to look up at Joe.

"Omg, Joey babe! Is that a photo of you? Look how little you were, omg!" She points at the photo of you and Joe during your 8th-grade dance.

"Yeah, it was our dance for 8th grade," Joe confirms.

"You guys went together?"

You don't speak, and neither does Joe. Nicole's smile slowly turns into a straight line as she puts things together.

"Did you guys date?" She finally asks. You don't speak. Joe doesn't talk. Your parents look at Joe's parents.

"Freshmen year of college. But they broke up when he went to LSU." Your mother breaks the awkward silence. Joe coughs as Nicole stares at you.

"The best friend that broke your heart. I thought you meant that in a funny way. But I get it now. Bathroom?" Nicole gets up, and your mother takes her to the bathroom. Joe's mother looks at you and then at Joe.

"You didn't tell her you used to date? Joe, that was a bomb. She looked totally caught off guard."

"I'll go talk to her. I didn't think it was important." Joe says, standing up to chase after his girl. You start biting on your lip, trying not to let his words get to you. You're not important; those were his words.

"I have to take this call." You say barely above a whisper. You go to your bedroom and answer the call. Thank the heavens you are on an on-call shift because you are needed at the hospital right now. You say goodbye to everyone except Joe and Nicole. Joe excuses himself from the family game to follow you to your car.

"Hey-"

"Not important." You swing your door open, waiting to hear what he has to say.

"Cheeks, you and I both know I didn't mean it like that."

"Right. Not telling your current girlfriend anything about your ex makes perfect sense. Especially since you're still fucking that said ex." You get in the car, ready to slam the door, but Joe grabs it.

"Stop."

"Everything okay?" Nicole asks, standing on the steps of your parent's house. You look up at Joe, asking him to let go of the door. Joe nods his head and closes your door. You pull out of the driveway, leaving them behind. Nicole crosses her arms, waiting for Joe to speak.

"Let's get home. I'm tired and want to look over some footage." He takes her hand, leading her back inside.

You and Joe avoid each other for the next few weeks, but that stops when you both attend Quinn's New Year's Eve wedding. You smooth out your emerald green satin bridesmaid dress and take a deep breath. The long slit going down the left leg gives little to imagine. Quinn is insane for designing this dress for a wedding. You take a look at the cleavage and shake your head. Insane.

"Quinn, this dress is way too revealing for a wedding. Like my tits are almost popping out."

"That is why it is an adult-only wedding. I wanted my bridesmaids to show some leg show some tits! Be free! Look at my wedding dress! The girls are popping out as well."

You just shake your head and laugh. The door opens to Francis, Quinn's twin brother, and two other bridesmaids.

"Don't you look absolutely stunning?" He pulls you into a hug.

"I told you, you looked amazing. Ladies! The countdown begins." Quinn claps, getting everyone's attention. Your nerves are running a bit crazy because you know Joe will also be here, even though Quinn said she would uninvite him because of you.

"Alright, we have to get going. See you down the aisle." Francis pulls you and the others out of the room. You stand lined up, ready to start the ceremony. The doors open, and it begins. The ceremony is 30 mins long, followed by the reception. You did your best not to make eye contact with Joe during the ceremony, but he now sits directly across from your table during the reception. The best man stands up and makes his speech, and you know you are up next as the maid of honor. You down your drink to give yourself some liquid courage and stand up. Everyone's eyes are now on you, but the only pair that matter are the baby blue eyes piercing your heart.

"I have had the pleasure of knowing Francheska, aka Quinn, for 14 years. We have been through Hell and back. Quinn is the sister I have always wanted. She is always in my corner just as much as I am in hers. Watching her grow into this amazing woman has been my pleasure. Thank you for allowing me to be on this journey with you. Nico, thank you for loving her unconditionally. When you asked me to help you find a ring, I could barely contain my excitement. But I knew she deserved you just like you deserved her. I want to wish both of you happiness and love always. To Quinn and Nico." You raise another glass and toast. Quinn wipes her tears and stands up to hug you.

"That's my best friend. It's so funny because me and Francis always thought it would be her and Joe getting married first. I beat you guys!" Quinn shouts. Joe claps and laughs, and you shy away from the attention. Throughout the night, you are happy people keep Joe busy with conversations. That is until Fran pulls you, Joe, and Quinn, into a private room.

"Sorry, Nicki girl, this is a friend zone. Just the four of us." Quinn says, closing the door on Nicole. You sit on the couch away from Joe, who is leaning against the door. Fran starts pouring shots.

"To us! 14 years later and still hanging strong! One down, three to go! Fran hands out the shots. You clink glasses and throw them back.

"I know Joey can not get plastered, but let's take a few and enjoy this night for me!" Quinn shouts. After three more shots, the guys leave. Quinn grabs your hand as the door closes.

"What's wrong? Are you going to be sick? Last night at the bachelorette party, you seemed spaced out talking to me."

"I've been sleeping with Joe for the last few months. Last month we had a small fight and haven't done anything since. We haven't even talked, but seeing him here again. I feel dizzy."

"I knew it! Fran owes me $20. You know Joe was acting super weird too, but Fran didn't know what was up. This is too good!"

"Quinn, what do I do? He has a girlfriend. He's moved on. It's not fair for me to keep seeing him." You pour another shot, trying to drink yourself into a reason. Quinn hugs you again.

"Talk to him. I'll be back." She leaves, and you sit on the couch; as time passes, you start pacing. When the anxiety is no longer bearable, you grab the bottle and return to the party. Nicole is pinned to Joe's side. There is no way you can grab him to talk, so you force yourself to have fun and forget him. This is your best friend's big day, after all. After many rounds of dancing and drinking, you take a break to use the bathroom. As you're about to close the door, a hand stops it. You stumble back and look up at the man you've been avoiding all night. Joe closes the door locking it behind him. He looks at you up and down, biting his lip. Without another word or second, Joe is scooping you up and kissing you heavily. He sets you on the vanity. Your hands are fumbling with his belt as he kisses on your neck.

"You look so fucking amazing tonight. Do you know how hard it was for me to hold myself back all night?" He whispers against your neck. You successfully get his belt loosened and pants down. Joe easily rips your underwear off and stuffs it into his pocket. You spread your legs allowing Joe to finger fuck you on the sink. Your head hits the mirror as you throw it back, moaning in his ear.

"Please." You beg. You knew both of you didn't have any time to waste. Joe pulls down his briefs, and your mouth practically waters, watching his cock spring out, hitting his stomach. Joe gives your pussy a few taps with the tip, running it up and down your slits to get natural lubricant. When he slides in you, try everything to suppress your moans.

"Don't do that. It's fine. No one can hear us. I want to hear those pretty noises you make for me, Cheeks." He groans in your ear. Your walls break, and you're giving Joe exactly want he wants. You a complete mess, moaning and crying out his name. His thrusts speed up as he battles his wall. You're cumming, unable to hold back anymore.

"Don't stop," You cry out, holding on to Joe for dear life. Joe had no plans to stop. His head was buried in your neck as he continued to give you deep and long strokes fucking you through your orgasm. And when it's Joe's turn to cum, he doesn't bother pulling out, emptying every last drop into you. Sweaty, breathing, heavy, and in pure bliss, you start a clumsy messy make-out session.

"I missed you so much." Joe pulls away and cups your face. You look up at him softly, nodding your head. Joe kisses you again on the lips, then your forehead.

"Hey! I need to pee!" A guest bangs on the door. Joe helps you down and regain your balance. Both of you quickly freshen up and leave the bathroom. Joe follows you into the room from earlier. He sits you on his lap and begins rubbing your leg.

"I'm going to break things off with Nicole. I know I keep saying it, but I am this time. I just want to know where that will leave us." Joe looks up at you with puppy eyes. You kiss his lips.

"Joey, I've never stopped loving you. I want to be with you again."

"I'll work things out. Can I see you when we get back home?"

"Of course." You smile into the kiss. Joe lays you down on the couch and begins feeling your body up and down. He's holding back this time because if he doesn't, Joe will take you again right here on the couch, not caring that he left his girlfriend alone. It's you that breaks away from temptation first. You return to Quinn's side, who gives you a sly smile. You made it just in time for the NYE countdown. As the clock ticks down to one, you turn to see Joe and Nicole share a kiss. Your heart sinks a bit, but you know what Joe said. After tonight he would end things. But, of course, fate has other plans.

When you arrive back home, you're tossed into a hectic work schedule. You hear from Fran that Nicole's mother passed away. Joe doesn't leave his fragile girlfriend; he continues to have both of you. You should know better. You should stop this relationship. But you can't. You can't help but fall into his arms. Joe can't help but to call and look for you whenever he needs you. You two become comfortable again.

Joe kisses your back and rolls over. He's going to the Superbowl, and as soon as he arrives home, he drives straight to your place to celebrate. Last night, Joe practically fucked you everywhere in the house. You run over, smiling at him, and kiss his lips.

"How are you feeling, champ?" You ask, playing in his hair. Joe pulls you on top of him, and you feel his erection.

"I am on top of the world right now. I'm going to the Superbowl. I got to wake up to this beautiful woman. I'm about to fuck her again and-"

You place a pillow over his face giggling. Joe is insane if he thinks your body is ready for another session. He tosses the pillow and flips you over. Joe pushes your legs against your chest, putting you in a mating press. Before he can begin his morning routine, his phone rings. Your mood falters because of the ringtone. Joe lets you go and reaches over to the nightstand for his phone.

"Where are you? The guys are already home."

"I had to stay at my parents' place. My dad wanted to celebrate. I didn't want to bother you because I know you had an early shoot." Joe sits on the bed, watching you limp to the bathroom. Joe relentlessly fucked you all night, and your legs still felt like jello. Your body is covered in his kisses, and his covered in scratches and your kisses. He follows you into the bathroom, putting the phone on speaker as you brush your teeth. Joe starts playing with your pussy making you squirm at the sink. He smiles and winks at you through the mirror.

"Really? I'm at your parent's house now." Nicole crosses her arms staring at Joe's mother. Joe takes it off speaker and leaves the bathroom. You turn the shower on and climb in, letting Joe deal with his problem. A few mins later, he joins you after brushing his teeth.

"Who did you lie about being with this time?" You ask, grabbing your blue loofah.

"I told her I was with Marr, which isn't a complete lie. I'm going there after this." Joe turns you around and lifts you.

"All night into the morning and again? I don't think I can handle you," You whisper against his lips. Joe was ready to slide in again, but this time interrupted by your phone. It was the hospital. He put you down and quickly let you finish your shower. You rush to your phone and return the call. After getting dressed, you kiss him goodbye and tell him to lock up. Joe follows your instructions, and after feeding Peaches, he leaves your house, going straight to Ja'Marr's house.

"Really? You were at my house? My girl called me bitching me out about covering for you." Ja'Marr rolls his eyes and follows Joe to the game room, where other teammates lounge around.

"Messy, man. You know our girlfriends are in a group chat together, right?" Von says, shaking his head.

"So, who is she? I've heard of having mistresses in other states, hell, even other cities, but having your side right here in the same city as your wifey. It's insane, my man," DJ Reader laughs, sitting on a recliner. Joe picks up a pool stick, ignoring them.

"She is his childhood friend slash ex-girlfriend. She's fine as fuck. Look at her Instragram." Ja'Marr passes his phone around, letting the guys check you out. Joe snatches it away.

"How do you have her Instagram? It's private."

"I followed her on my backup account. Relax. Me and Cheeks are kinda best friends right now." Ja'Marr takes his phone and sits down with a wide grin.

"So, are you going to end things with Nicole? I need to know the game plan since she's best friends with my girlfriend." Sam speaks up, this time earning a nod from the other guys. Joe scratches his head.

"I plan to break up with her."

"But?" Sam sits up, waiting for the next part.

"Every time I'm ready to end things with Nicole, something comes up. Her mother dying. Right now, she is still on bereavement from work, so I haven't found the right time to end it. But I will, and it won't blow back on you, Sam." Joe takes a seat looking at a text from Nicole.

"Listen, we all need to get our heads in the game. Stop thinking about women and side dishes-"

"Stop calling her my side dish or mistress."

"I mean, that's what she is—realistically speaking," DJ speaks again, earning some head nods.

"We're going to the Superbowl! Fuck everything else!" Ja'marr claps, bringing the group back to the main focus. Joe doesn't say anything else for the rest of the gathering. He is pissed off and doesn't want to cause friction, but at the same time, having anyone disrespect you doesn't sit right with him. So, Joe lets it stew all week, and it's not his fault, either. DJ keeps taking shots at him as well. Joe left his phone at your house and called you from Ja'Marr's phone. You arrive at the facility and sit on the sidelines, waiting for training to be over. During a break, Joe leads you to the locker room.

"Joey, not here. And you're all sweaty and gross." You yelp as he wipes his sweaty head on you.

"You can be sweaty and gross too." Joe kisses on your neck. You give him a shove.

"Behave. Here's your phone. Call me later?"

"Of course." Joe smiles and slaps you on the ass as you walk away. After practice, he is eager to visit you.

"Off to see that side piece of yours?" DJ laughs, throwing a towel at Joe. Joe takes a deep breath.

"Watch your mouth." Joe tosses the towel back. DJ stands up and gets in his face.

"Or what, pretty boy."

"Uh, Oh!" A teammate shouts, egging the situation on.

"Why don't we focus on the game? Why I do off the field doesn't have shit to do with you." Joe doesn't back down. His jaw clenches as he stares DJ down with the same firey expression.

"Cool." DJ turns around mid-way and stops.

"But once you're done with your side bitch, why don't you send her my way for a few rounds." DJ laughs. Joe snaps and throws the first punch. DJ quickly recovers and tackles Joe to the ground delivering a few punches. Ja'Marr and Sam jump in, separating the fight before it gets out of hand.

"What the fuck is going on? Get up now!" The coach yells while Ja'Marr holds Joe back and Sam holds DJ.

"I don't know what the fuck has gotten into the two of you, but it's showing on my fucking field! I don't care what goes on in your personal lives, but when you're here in my uniform, you act accordingly. Knock it off."

You swing your door open, surprised to see Joe standing there with a black eye and busted lip.

"Jesus! Are you okay? Is this from practice?" You ask, pulling him inside. You take him to the kitchen and give him an ice pack.

"Yeah. It's from practice. Dinner?"

"I ordered out. I didn't know you would be coming over, so-"

"It's fine. I won't stay long. I just needed to see you." Joe wraps his arms around you, surprising you. You hug him back, unsure of what to say.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. You know I love you, right? No matter what anyone says. I love you with my entire being."

"Yes. Where is this coming from? What's going on?"

"Nothing. I just needed to know that you knew that. Will you be at the Superbowl?"

"I couldn't get off. I'm sorry. But I promise to watch it."

Joe kisses your forehead and says his goodbyes. Nicole is waiting for Joe in the bedroom when he arrives home. She immediately touches his face. Joe explains practice got a little rough. After eating dinner, they sit on the couch watching tv. Joe's mind slips back to you. He wonders how different life would be if he had stayed in Ohio.

"I'm so proud of you. I know how stressed you've been about the Superbowl. No matter what happens, you will still be you, Joe." Nicole kisses his lips and climbs onto his lap.

A few days later, they attended the Superbowl luncheon. Joe and Ja'Marr take some photos and greet others. Nicole sits with the other girlfriends, gossiping.

"No, because if you think about it, he doesn't call you at all when he's in Buffalo. Girl, he's cheating." Amber, Sam's girlfriend, says, shaking her head. Nicole continues to scroll through texts, not really listening to the conversation.

"Look at the wives. Sitting separately from us like they're so high and mighty. They can get cheated on just as easily as us. They probably get cheated on more." Jessica, Tee's girlfriend, speaks up this time. Nicole puts her phone down with a chuckle.

"What's so funny?" Jess asks.

"I don't have to worry about any of that nonsense."

"Oh, right, because not all guys can be like your sweet Joe." Jess rolls her eyes. Eliza, Ja'Marr's girlfriend, downs her drink and giggles. Ja'Marr has told her on multiple occasions how Joe is fucking someone else. In fact, She has covered for Joe a few times, including last week.

"Do you think Joe is going to pop the big question soon? I mean, imagine he wins his ring and then asks you!" Sam squeals, thinking about the idea. Nicole blushes and fixes her hair.

"I don't know. We'll see what happens tomorrow."

Joe makes his way through the crowd greeting people. At one point, he sees DJ pull Nicole from the group to talk. A reporter is asking him questions, so he cannot leave immediately.

"Excuse me for a second," Joe finally gets a chance to catch up to them. Nicole turns, smiling at him.

"Everything okay?" She asks, fixing his shirt.

"Yeah. What are you guys talking about?"

"Just about the excitement for the game. DJ was also asking me to hook him up with a friend. All my friends are taken but your friend from college. She is single, right? A doctor too. I've only met her twice, but I think maybe you two could hit it off."

Joe stares at DJ, clenching his jaw.

"She is single. But I don't think she's into footballers," Joe laughs it off.

"Well, we won't know that until you give me a chance," DJ says, patting Joe's back extra hard.

"How about we set up a double date? Joe will let you know the details." Nicole walks off to find Amber. Joe smiles until she is out of earshot. He shoves DJ in his chest hard.

"What the fuck is your problem?"

"Hey, I asked for her to hook me up with a friend. Not my fault she brought up Cheeks." DJ winks and walks off. Joe runs his hand through his hair and looks for Ja'Marr.

"You look like you're about to kill someone," Ja'Marr jokingly says, handing him a drink. Joe declines the drink and runs his hands over his face.

"Fucking DJ talked to Nicole. Now they want to do a double date with Cheeks."

"He's such an ass. Don't let him get to you, though. Right now, he is our teammate. We need to focus on tomorrow and get this win."

Joe knows he's right. So, as much as it kills him, he sucks it up. The next day his head is on straight, and his mind only thinks about one thing. Winning. But right before taking the field, you facetime him.

"I just wanted to say good luck. And show you that I'm watching! See!" You point to the TV showing highlights of the conference game. Joe smiles, wishing you were here with him.

"I love you. Thank you, baby." Joe blows you a kiss. You hang up after saying I love you back. Leaning in your chair, your turn to your computer to enter some reports. Unfortunately, the Bengals lose to the Rams. You don't hear much from Joe for the next few days. You knew he must be taking the loss really hard, so you gave him space. Your parents invite you for dinner at the Burrow's place, and you accept, hoping to see Joe. Joe is there with his girlfriend. Of course, he is; what did you think would happen?

"Cheeks, Am I allowed to call you cheeks, or is that a Joe and you thing?" Nicole asks. You shake your head, allowing her to continue.

"You're single, right?" She asks, causing your mother and Robin to peek over at the two of you at the counter.

"I, umm, am."

"Great! How about a double date? Me and Joe and our good friend. He's a great guy and asked me to hook him up with a friend. Since you and Joe are so close, I figured it would be okay."

"Sure. That's okay. Who is it?"

"DJ from the team."

"Oh wow. I guess that would be fine. Excuse me; I have to take this call." You pull your phone out, walking away—a double date. There is no way you can handle that. Joe spots you in the hallway. He rubs your arm.

"You look like you've seen a ghost. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm more worried about you." You reach up to rub his face, and Joe leans into your touch. You start to play with his ears.

"I feel like a failure."

"Joey, it's one game."

"The most important game."

"You're not a failure. Nothing close to that. You lost. It happens. yOu have to pick yourself up and go harder next season. I know you can do it."

Joe tries to kiss you, but you block it with your hand.

"Our parents are here, and so is your girlfriend, who asked me to join on a double date."

"What? She what? With fucking DJ. This fucking guy. I swear I'm going to beat the shit out of him."

"Why? What's going on?"

Joe shakes his head and walks away. Dinner was less awkward than Thanksgiving but still uncomfortable. You thank them for dinner and head home. When you arrive home, your door is cracked open. Your place is completely trashed. You call out for Peaches, who comes running towards you. You find photos of you and Joe scattered all over your kitchen. Your face is scratched out with the word "Whore" written on it. You put the cat down and try to calm your nerves. With shaking hands, you dial Joe but quickly hang up when Nicole answers. You're scared to call the police but too scared to stay there. You pack Peaches up and go to a hotel for the night.

"Hey?" Mya touches your shoulder, scaring you.

"Sorry, I didn't hear you come up. I will be in the Emergency Department all day if anyone needs me." You grab a clipboard and start working.

"You're jumpy today. Didn't get enough sleep?"

"I've been staying at a hotel for the last few days, so no."

"What? Why?"

"Someone broke into my house."

"Omg! Are you okay? Did they take anything?" Mya asks, following you. You pull her into a storage room.

"I've been sleeping with Joe. They have photos of us together. Intimately. It was all over my apartment floor when I came home."

"Joe?"

"Burrow." You whisper. Her eyes widen.

"I knew it! I knew you were seeing someone from the Bengals! Fuck he's so hot. But omg Nicole. Nooooo, not my Nicole!" she pouts.

"Someone has been following us, and I need to tell Joe, but-"

"Listen, if you need to stay with me, my home is open to you. Fuck I can't believe you're sleeping with Joe fucking Burrow!"

"Shh!"

"Sorry. It's going to be okay. Don't let it get to you. Whoever this person is obviously has no plans; otherwise, you would be on TMZ right now." Mya reassures you. But as days go by, you become more paranoid. It doesn't help that you receive a letter from this secret person telling you to keep everything to yourself. So, you do for Joe's sake. No one likes a cheater. He could lose a lot more than you. So, when the night of the double date comes up, you do your best not to look at him.

"You're gorgeous. I can't believe someone hasn't wifed you up." DJ smiles, making you giggle.

"Work keeps me too busy to date." You reply.

Joe sits back in his chair, staring at the both of you. It feels like he is burning holes in your faces. Nicole leans her head on his shoulder, returning him to the conversation.

"I'll get the check." Joe stands up, leaving the three of you to talk. You exchange numbers with DJ and end the night on a good note. He offers to take you out again. Joe is once again burning holes in the side of your face. DJ walks you to your car as Nicole pulls Joe towards his car. Dj kisses your hand and bids you goodnight. You drive to Mya's place and park in the driveway, reading Joe's text. Before you can respond, he calls you.

"Joe-"

"Did he go home with you?"

"What?"

"I'm on my way over now. So, if he's there, he needs to get the fuck out. Right now. I'm not even joking."

"Joe. I'm not home."

"Did you go to his place?"

"I have the right to see who I want to see, Joe. You're not my father, and I'm a grown adult."

The line is silent, but you know he's still there because he's breathing hard.

"I need to see you, so just tell me where you are." Joe pleads. He sounds broken and hurt. You give him Mya's address. She's working a double, so you should be safe right now. And when Joe arrives, he quietly follows you into the guest room, scooping you up and kissing you softly.

"Go away with me for a few weeks."

"Joe-"

He pulls you out of your dress quickly. Joe's eyes scan over your body. You become shy under his gaze.

"I need you. I only need you. Let's getaway. How much vacation time do you have saved up?"

"A lot. But I need a more extended notice." You sit up on the bed, unbuckling his pants. Joe comes out of his pants and boxers. You take him into your hand and slowly stroke his dick. Joe watches you intensely as you kiss the tip swirling your tongue around.

"Fuck." Joe groans once you start deep-throating him. He throws his head back and bucks his hips. You pull his cock out with a pop and lick from the base to the tip again. Joe shakes his head.

"I want to cum inside of you." He pushes you back and tosses your underwear. Joe is quick and is between your legs, devouring your cunt. You wiggle and squirm as he holds your hips down. Joe sits up, pushing your legs to your chest, putting you in a mating press as he slides in easily. Both of you moan at the new sensation.

"I love you. I swear you're the only thing that matters to me in this world. You're mine." Joe whispers against your lips. You're so fucked out of your mind that you can't respond. Your mouth hangs open.

"Too deep." You cry out. Joe was hitting your spot, sending your mind into a dizzy spell. Joe releases your legs and holds them up in the air by your ankles. He watches his cock slide in and out of you while you cum. Your body jerks up when he starts snapping his hips faster, overstimulating your sensitive body. Joe lets go of your legs and spreads them wide to get a better view of everything. He reaches down to rub your clit, and you moan incoherently.

"Wait! Joey! Wait! I can't!" You cry out as he pulls out, and you squirt on his abdomen. Your body shakes, and Joe leans down, coaxing you through your high. He whispers how pretty you look right now.

"I don't want you to be with anyone else—only me. I want to be selfish with you. I want to be the only one making you cry like this. I want this pussy to be filled with only me. Can you let me be selfish just this once?" He begs. You nod your head, feeling him rub your thighs. Joe turns you over and enters you again. You find the strength to get on your hands and knees. Joe digs his fingers into your hips, watching your ass collide with his pelvis. Skin slapping skin, moans, and grunts fill the room with every thrust. Joe presses you down on your back, causing you to give him a more profound arch.

"Such a good girl." Joe bends down to kiss your spine. You start whimpering as he returns to his position and continues pounding away. Your knees and arms give out, and you collapse onto the bed, letting Joe have his way until he came. Joe pulls out and flips you over, spreading your legs to get a look at his cum leaking out of you. You shiver and whine when he pushes it back in.

"I want to get you pregnant. I'm not even joking. Can you imagine how beautiful you will look carrying my baby?"

You cover your smile at his words. Joe leans over to kiss you.

"I love you so much, Joe. If you give me a few weeks, I will take that vacation with you, but there's something I need to tell you."

"Is everything okay?"

"Someone broke into my place. They had photos of us again and-"

"Are you okay? Why didn't you call me?"

"The person threatened me, which is why I don't want you to take any actions. I can handle it myself."

"They've been in your house. You're not safe there. You have to move. I'll find you a place close to my house for now and stay with your parents. I'll hire security and-"

"Joseph, I said I can handle things. If you get involved, it will only make things worse. Until you end things with her, we can't. No one can find out about us." You cup his face forcing him to look directly into your eyes. Joe mumbles a yes and buries his face in your neck. And three weeks later, you find yourself in the Maldives with Joe.

A/N: Omg, I can't believe so many people like this fic! The title is called Second Strings, and it is a series. I linked the master list up top. If you want to join the taglist I have linked it here as well! But there is a limited amount of people I can tag. Thank you for all the love messages comments and reblogs! It motivates me so much. I know this was such a long chapter, but I had some time! Things will get more interesting as we continue!

Tags: @joselyn001@savii999@lostaurorax@simpgirl-lat@edenhess@blinkloverx3 @dboanalooaa

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow smut #joe burrow x you #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow fic #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x oc #joe burrow x u #second string #second string updates #Joe burrow hot

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siennamakeschaos · 4 months ago

Text

i'm a horrible writer but-

keefitz fanfic :)

i kind of hate it tbh but here it is :D (only chapter one, that's as far as i've gotten so far)

under the cuttt

TW: minor swearing <3

Fitz stared at the ceiling of his room, shifting slightly to get into a more comfortable position. He heard footsteps outside of his door and groaned.

"Biana, I swear to the stars, if you're trying to steal more of my skin care products, I will put a lock on my door." He sat up, surprised to see it was not his beauty-product stealing sister, but instead a grinning Keefe.

"You know, maybe I'll steal some of those skincare products, Fitzy..."

Fitz rolled his eyes at his best friend's comment, sitting up in his bed. "Hello you too, Keefe. Why are you here? I thought tou and Sophie were doing something..?" He asked, leaning back as he waved Keefe over.

"Oh, you know, just dropping in to make sure my bestie hasn't died on me." Keefe shrugged, falling back onto Fitz's bed. "You sounded pretty sick the other day, y'know."

Fitz remembered talking to Keefe the other day- the conversation... hadn't ended so pleasantly.

"So... Fitzy boy, what've you been up to that made you look like hell?"

"What!? I don't look like hell!"

"Deny it all you want- you've got huge bags under your eyes and your voice sounds off. You pulled another all-nighter, didn't you?"

"Well, uh... not exactly..."

"What do you mean not exactly?"

"...two allnighters. I only slept for an hour the other day as well..."

"EXCUSE ME!? Fitzy, you HAVE to take better care of yourself! That's stupid- three days, only an hour of sleep."

"I know it's stupid, it's just...I haven't been able to sleep, okay? Can you just drop it?"

"No, no, no, I am NOT dropping this, Fitzy. You couldn't sleep, or wouldn't? Were you up all night thinking about a certain blonde somebody..?"

"What? No! That's- no- no!"

"Not convincing me there, Golden Boy."

"Oh, by all the stars, just drop it, Keefe!"

"You need to get more sleep!"

"You need to stop poking into my business!"

"It's my business if you're harming yourself by not getting enough sleep."

"Keefe- drop it!"

"No, Fitzy, you need more sleep, I'm not going to just drop it. You're going to burn yourself out."

"Shut up! SHUT. UP. I don't need you going on and on about how horrible my sleep schedule is, can you just let me handle things by myself for once!?"

"Fitzy-"

"No. Just...just go, Keefe. Please."

"Okay."

Fitz had been trying to put the memories of the conversation behind, but of course- being his stressed, emotional self- he couldn't. He groaned as he leaned back into his bed, glancing at Keefe.

"I've gotten sleep since the other day, if that's what you're asking. Only four hours the other night, but last night I got six." Fitz finally said, although Keefe just rolled his eyes.

"Oh, wow, such an amazing sleep schedule!"

"Shut up." Fitz's voice was laced with mild amusement, however. He didn't have the energy to be irritated. "What did you really come here for, Keefe? I doubt you'd abandon your project with Sophie for nothing."

"You really underestimate me, Fitzy...it's disappointing, really!"

"Keefe!"

"Alright, alright." Keefe chuckled. "I came to give you something. Grizel was on edge today, though. She stole what I have for you and looked over it for a full five minutes before letting me in, y'know. I was scared she and Sandor had swapped places." He took an object out of his pocket, offering it to Fitz.

Fitz took a good look at the object, realising what it was. "I asked you if you could look for this...years ago..!" He gasped. It was a small glass locket, with a picture of him and Keefe with their arms around each other's shoulders inside. "I lost it when I was with you over two years ago...how the fuck did you find it!?"

Keefe chuckled at Fitz's reactions. "There, there, language, Fitzy! I found this just the other day, remember when you made me promise if I found the locket, I'd bring it back to you? Wasn't gonna break that promise, was I?" He grinned.

Fitz took the locket from Keefe, astonished. He couldn't believe Keefe had been able to find this, after the locket had been lost for two whole years. "I- this is- wow..."

He didn't know why he was reacting so strongly to this, it was just that... Fitz could remember clearly the day Keefe had given him this locket.

"Hey, Fitzy. It's been a whole year, y'know. A whole year since I found you sitting in the cafeteria all alone, trying to work on an assignment."

"I found YOU, remember? I don't know how you weren't caught holding a GULON of all things."

"Well, you know what happened after."

"Oh, I know all right. But what were you saying before?"

"Technically, it's our friendiversary. I think."

"Wait, it is?"

"So I got you a present!"

"It's...a locket. It's beautiful, Keefe!"

"Are you talking about me or the locket, Fitzy?"

"Can this be used to choke somebody?"

"You would never!"

"I have a feeling I just might."

"Aww, I thought I was your bestie, Fitzy! Anyways, where's YOUR gift?"

"Gift? I- uh-'

"Don't worry, Fitzy, I was-"

"Here! Flowers. I know you like daisies, here's a bunch of them!"

"...you just got those from the ground."

"No witnesses."

"Except me."

"You can't be your own witness! HAPPY FRIENDIVERSARY!"

The memory still made Fitz laugh when he thought about it. He and Keefe had been twelve, turning thirteen, then. They had been young and innocent.

"Thank you." Fitz shot Keefe a sincere smile. "I was so upset the day I lost this...my first friendiversary gift..."

Keefe chuckled. "Oh, you getting attached to a locket. Why am I not surprised?"

"Hey, I wasn't attached!" Fitz protested. "It had sentimental value!"

"Oh, yeah, because you were a lonely, sad child back then."

"I wasn't lonely! I had Biana, you know."

"Siblings don't count."

"Oh, come on."

This was how many conversations with Keefe seemed to go- tease, sarcasm, a light joke, an attempt to get Keefe to be serious.... but Fitz couldn't deny that he liked it.

"Sooo...." Keefe had a smirk on his face. This couldn't be good. "Those skincare products...didn't know you used those beauty products..." He grinned. "How often do you use these, dare I ask?"

Fitz groaned again. "You're the worst." He complained. "I- uh... I have a nightly routine.... and a morning routine."

Keefe burst into laughter. "Of course you do. Plus haircare, right? You are the craziest person I've ever met, Fitz Vacker."

Fitz rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, you spend half an hour on your hair each morning! You can't say anything."

Keefe placed a hand over his heart, feigning mock offence. "How dare you accuse me of such felonies, Fitzy!"

"Felonies indeed."

#kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #keefitz #keefe sencen #fitz vacker #kotlc fanfic #keefitz kotlc #keefe sencen x fitz vacker #fanfiction #writing kotlc #y'know if anyone wants to be in a tag list- rb or comment if ya want

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mmkin · 6 months ago

Text

The Siren's Shark (that sharkman can be a real piece of work)

Fans of my Arlong writing, rejoice. New chapter of the Siren's Shark is now up, link on AO3 here.

I didn't expect to have the next chapter up so soon but I'm on a roll and I'm sure my fellow Arlong fans are happy for it. Content/trigger warnings - a touch of smut and a bit of violence

o0o0o0o

The captain’s bed was built to comfortably accommodate an average-sized human, but not one of Arlong’s height. If he stretched out even a bit, his feet hung over the side of the bed. He knew he was going to get rid of this ship soon, but without the tribute money that Arlong Park once collected, their funds were distressingly low. Which left them with the option of stealing a ship – or the funds – for an upgrade unless they met some windfall.

He stirred and looked down at the form he was spooned against. Yolande lay between him and the wall, curled up in his embrace. It certainly was nice having a warm body to wake up next to after a cold night. Most of her head was covered by the blankets that were tucked around them, and he gently ran his fingers across the top of her head, feeling the thick, dark locks and twirling a lock between his fingers. It looked black, but when the light hit it, he saw flashes of dark red and copper.

She stirred and pulled down the blanket a few inches. Mumbling something, she opened her eyes, shifting her gaze around for a couple of moments before settling on his face. He looked down at her with a grin, and saw a flash of fear and confusion on her face before recognition settled in.

“Hello,” she whispered.

“How did you sleep?”

“Surprisingly well.”

"Mmm." His fingers trailed along her forehead and down the side of her face. It'd been the best sleep he had had in… months… even a year or more? Even before the demise of his beloved park. There had been nights when he could not fall asleep without a substantial amount of alcohol. Not that he hadn't drunk a fair amount the night before with his fellow fishmen, but he was certain that the fucking and snuggling had done far more for him than a few bottles of alcohol.

She started to pull herself up, and he took the opportunity to look over the bites he’d placed on her shoulders. The first couple had been lighter, but still left their mark on her. She shivered as he moved his hand to her other shoulder. Though the puncture wounds were deeper, he was relieved to see that there was minimal inflammation.

“Do you like seeing what you did to me?” she asked dryly.

“These are claiming bites.”

“The last one really hurt,” she said quietly.

“It was not my intention to harm you, but yes, it happens as part of the claiming,” he replied lowly. “Does it still hurt?”

She lifted her hand, touching it. “Some.”

“It will heal. In the meantime, if you still feel pain, we now have drugs in the infirmary, thanks to you. Or I can give you more drink.” He ran his fingers down her arm as he re-tucked the blankets around them, letting her remain in a seated position with her back against his chest.

"I don't regret helping the sick members of your crew or finding the best deals in the market. But this still feels so surreal to me. Why did this happen to me?"

Arlong could ask that of many things. Why did he lose his parents? Why did Fisher Tiger die? Why was Arlong Park destroyed? Why end up with a siren who was half-human, when he’d spent pretty much his whole life hating humans and looking down at them?

He'd consistently told himself and his crewmates, and even the young ones in the Fishman District that Heaven made fishmen superior to humans. After all, they were faster and stronger, even out of the water. Fishmen fetched more than humans on the slave market, so even as humans looked down on them, they were still valuable. Just not in a way that benefited the fishman race.

“Who the hell knows, but we’re here now,” he growled as he stared off into space, listening to her breathe as he wrapped his arm around her.

o0o0o0o

Hatchan watched as several fishmen brought potted plants onto the ship. Last night’s delivery of Yolande’s note went without incident, fortunately, but the young woman who answered the door seemed determined to hold her suspicions against fishmen even though Hatchan had never done her any harm. Now that woman’s stepmother was disappearing, sailing off with the fishmen!

He did feel sorry for Lena after hearing her story. She’d lost her mother at a young age, and then her father in her late teens, and her older brother worked abroad for years. Yolande had been a rock for her, helping her navigate the last few years of her teenagehood, a far cry from the evil stepmother one often came across in fairy tales. Regarding Lena’s baby, there was no father in the picture and Hatchan did not pry.

All he could do was accompany Yolande and carry the things she needed. Her personal possessions were relatively modest – the biggest portion of what she was taking to the ship was her plants and other things she needed for her work.

“Hey, careful with that,” Yolande said as a fishman struggled with a crate. “That has glass in it!”

Hatchan rushed to help with the crate, making sure it was situated before he returned to her side, seeing the distant expression on her face. "I'm sorry for any trouble that my friendship caused you," he said gently as he placed a hand on her shoulder. She was being taken from a home she'd known for years and what little family she had because of Arlong. And none of that would have happened if Hatchan hadn't appealed to her for help for his crewmates. He'd already apologized before but felt the need to do so again as he witnessed the upheaval Arlong caused in her life.

Although if a siren really was chosen by the gods or fate, then they’d have made her and Arlong cross paths some other way.

She let out a small sigh before she looked up at him. “I know. And if nothing else, I’m glad to have a friend here on the ship.” She placed her hand on top of his.

If Arlong had attempted to enslave or mistreat Yolande, Hatchan would have stepped in. After what happened with Nami, and standing back while the poor girl suffered, he wasn't going to do that again. He hadn't expected to run into Arlong after his takoyaki ship was destroyed, but perhaps that was another twist of fate. Who knew? He'd learned much in his time with the Straw Hats and was truly happy for the chance to make it up to them and be their friend. Arlong didn't know about all that, of course.

He hoped that one day, he might be able to tell Arlong. But not now. The sharkman still carried a lot of bitterness and pain.

"Has everything been… okay with Arlong?" he asked. He'd noticed his captain get handsy sometimes. Taking hold of Yolande's arm, or her chin, or picking her up. He knew that a siren was supposed to be irresistible to her partner, but none of the partners he heard about in the stories were like Arlong. A prince, farmer, warrior, and artist among others. But certainly not a pirate or villain.

“I think so,” she said with a dry chuckle. “He has… quite a few rough edges, doesn’t he?”

“I guess you could say that.” Oh, all the rough edges. Many of them, Arlong had been carrying around since childhood. Looking for a quick change of subject, he pointed to one of the plants. “What’s that one?” he asked, noticing fruit among the leaves, some green, others taking on a hint of red.

“Tomato. You can do so many things with it and it’s so good for you!” The distant look disappeared from her eyes as she discussed cooking with him.

o0o0o0o

The mess hall was quiet as Yolande knelt by one of her plants, touching the leaves. She’d been thrust into a new environment, but it was nice to have something familiar with her, and she cupped one of the tomatoes in her palm, feeling its cool weight. The windows in the mess hall made a good spot to place most of her plants when the weather was cold. She tried to arrange them in such a way as to take up as little space as possible. Though no one had said it, she knew some of the fishmen bristled at the idea of having a half-human on their ship.

She was determined to do the best she could here, and navigate the turbulent seas of life – literally and figuratively – as she’d done in the past when thrust into unexpected situations. But this was the first time she’d had a mate. Nothing could have prepared her for being claimed by a sharkman. She sighed and looked out the window, seeing the twinkle of a few lights along the interior of the harbor. In the reflection of the window, she saw Arlong slide up behind her, silhouetted against the sole lamp that still burnt in the quiet room.

“It’s getting late. Come to bed,” he said with a purr. She turned to face him, putting her hands on his chest. Like many of his crewmates, he wore a crewneck shirt, albeit one that had been modified for his fin. She couldn’t imagine it was easy shopping for clothes when one had a dorsal fin. Or pectoral fins, or extra arms. Or maybe it’d be easier if they went to Fishman Island. She’d heard of that place quite a few times and had considered visiting there.

The fabric stretched over his broad shoulders, chest, and biceps, offering her an appealing sight of his physique.

“I’m happy to come to bed. But I’ve been doing some thinking in between all the running around I’ve been doing today.”

He let out a short, inquisitive growl.

“There’s no denying the bond between us. On a physical level, you and I are all too aware of it.”

An amorous chuckle was Arlong’s response as his hands slid to her sides, and she shivered at the contact even though she was wearing a thick flannel shirt.

“But there’s supposed to be more, isn’t there?”

“What’s your point?” His hands rubbed her sides, large thumbs trailing along the underside of her breasts. She took a deep breath as she felt the heat rise in her cheeks and elsewhere.

“Aren’t you the person I am supposed to spend the rest of my life with? And vice versa?”

“Which means even more sex,” Arlong purred as he leaned down, breathing hotly against her ear.

“You really have a one-track mind!” she said, unable to bite back a moan as her body responded to the sharkman’s attentions. She tried to pull herself free, but he wrapped an arm around her before she could. “Please, Arlong.”

“Listen to your body,” he urged as he hugged her close, his hand sliding down to her ass, cupping it.

“Will you listen to my mind, too?” she asked firmly. He stilled for a moment.

“After I’m sated with your body.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” he replied heatedly, and she felt his teeth against her ear and just below it. Fuck it, she’d let the heat run the course… and then cooler minds should – no, would – prevail. So she let him paw at her before he dragged her back to his cabin.

o0o0o0o

Arlong glanced over at her as she quickly carded her fingers through her hair before pulling it in a ponytail. Sharing his bed took a bit of getting used to, especially with a too-small bed. Still, it’d been enjoyable to feel that warmth against his – or around him, when he chose to make use of it. And he’d had time to think about putting the practical talents of his siren to use. She might say she was no doctor, but she was better than nothing in the meantime and there was no denying that she knew what she was doing in the infirmary. She could cook a bit. Her plants looked healthy as far as he could tell. She knew some chemistry. He’d protect and treat her well, but it didn’t mean he’d coddle her like some spoiled pet.

However heated he might get, he refused to lose his mind over it. Yes, it’d been overwhelming at first, but now he’d had some time to orient himself to this, and the pull that existed between them. He’d enjoy the sweetness of her, and make good use of that spice.

Glancing back at the table, he looked at the compass. Right now, they were drifting westward, Eventually, they'd hit the Red Line unless they went north. And then what? Going back to the East Blue was out of the question.

Why had he chosen the East Blue? It was the calmest, easiest of the Blues, and he figured it would be a good place to establish himself. And it was almost too easy. For years, they'd terrorized humans into compliance, milking them for tribute every month and using it to enrich themselves. The mild weather and relatively backwoods location made the Conomi Islands an ideal haven for fishmen, on or offshore.

Now it was all gone. Yes, he had most of his nakama, but what future awaited them? He looked at Yolande again as she stood up before coming to the desk, glancing down at the notes. Some of them bore the hand of the former captain of this ship, others bore his distinctive scrawl.

“Where are you headed?” she asked. It was a casual question, and in her position, a reasonable one. Yet he bristled because he did not know the answer. He heard her take a deep breath.

“I ask these questions because I need to know what I am dealing with… or what to expect. Like, this ship is stolen… which makes me wonder if I have to fear reprisal simply by being with you. I think that’s a fair thing for me to be concerned about.”

Arlong stared at her for several long moments before acknowledging her statement with a begrudging nod.

-Protect-

"Remember what I said last night about our bond and how it is more than physical? I'm sure there are things you don't want to talk about, but we do need to get to know one another better. Like… hmm… what's your favorite food?"

He expected a much harder question and almost smiled in relief. "Beef."

“Beef? See, there’s something I can work with. Your turn.”

“My turn for what?”

“Ask me a question.”

He looked up from one of the maps, seeing her bat her eyes at him. He frowned thoughtfully for a moment. “Favorite color?”

“I can never settle on indigo or green. Right now I’m more inclined toward green.”

"Huh." Such a trivial bit of information. But she seemed happy to share it, just as she seemed happy to hear his favorite food. He'd humored previous lovers with a bit of small talk but had the feeling he'd have an easier time remembering what Yolande liked. Green and indigo. Not bad colors.

“Where were you from?”

“The Fishman District.” He glanced up at her. “Heard of it?”

“I’ve heard of Fishman Island. I’m afraid that’s all I know.”

“You have much to learn about fishmen, don’t you?” he asked with a sneer.

“I was raised by humans. I’m an orphan.”

He stared at her for a moment as the sneer faded, and she quickly looked down at the table as if she were ashamed.

“So am I,” Arlong commented. She looked back up at him. “And many of the crew members are orphans, too.”

She stared at him musingly. “I was hoping to find things in common with you, but I didn’t expect that.”

He laughed ruefully at that. “I’m certain we will find other things to share. In the meantime, we’ll be leaving soon.” She looked like she wanted to say something, and he gave her a brief nod.

"I've gotten most of what I need, but I am owed a debt that its owner is reluctant to pay, especially after seeing me help your crew."

“Who owes you?”

"The doctor. He owes me a fair bit of money for the work I produced and claims he can't come up with it right now because he's short on cash, but I don't think he's telling me the truth. He hates that he owes me anything but he still likes to be a pain in the ass about it. I suppose this is his last act of spite towards me for rejecting him," she muttered the last sentence to herself as she looked down at the papers again.

"What?" he growled. She blinked and looked back at him.

“After my husband died, Flen tried to court me. I turned him down. He’s never quite gotten over that. So he still likes to give me a hard time sometimes when it comes to paying me for what I produce for the pharmacy. He’s feeling especially bitter about that because he’s a racist piece of shit who didn’t like the fact that I stepped in to help your men when he refused to, and now I’m going off with said fishmen.”

Arlong grinned. “We’ll see about that.”

It was almost like the good old days. So far, the fishmen had given the island folk no trouble, which had lulled these stupid humans into complacency. So it was all too easy to march up to the doctor's office and shake the money from him and his neighbors when the fishmen threatened them after they attempted to intervene.

Arlong the Saw ended up with more money than Yolande said she was owed, but instead of returning it to the villagers, he pocketed it for himself. The doctor thought he would scorn fishmen who had simply been seeking aid, and try to screw someone out of the money she was owed as well. Filthy humans.

He was, however, cautious enough to not tell the doctor who he really was, or the name of his crew. If that stupid asshole thought to complain to anybody, all he would have to go by was the Jolly Roger and ship identification that belonged to a man who was now dead.

He walked up the gangplank, an impressive sight with his shoulders squared, a prideful expression on his face. With a smirk, he handed a stack of Beli to his mate, who blinked at the paper in her hands before staring up at him with shocked but grateful eyes. Then her eyebrows creased and he could see the question on her face.

“Tempting as it was to do worse, he is fine. Or will be. He’ll have a few bruises.”

She tilted her head to one side, deep in thought for a couple of moments before giving him a simple. "Thank you." Despite. her calm expression, he was certain he saw a glimmer of approval in her eyes like she was secretly pleased that he was willing to shake a man down for her.

Wasn’t it his duty to protect and provide for his siren? And if he had a bit of fun and profit doing it, all the better.

With full provisions, healthy fishmen, and his siren, Arlong set off from the island in search of a better future for himself and his crew.

#arlong #arlong the saw #one piece #yolande #the siren's shark #the sirens shark #villain gets the girl #fanfiction #writing #arlong pirates

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