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makeyoumine69 · 5 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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mim16s · 15 days ago

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Survival in game

Hello everyone, sorry for taking so many days to post an update. I was sick and couldn’t write, but I’ll try to be more active from now on. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

A part of this chapter may be a trigger for some people , for there is heavy violence against the reader and bad memories that will be explained in an upcoming chapter.

Materialist

Part 3

The atmosphere still carried a heavy tension, even after the game had ended. The imminent threat of death had lessened, but the feeling of unease lingered. You looked at Hyun-ju, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety. Words seemed insufficient to express the gratitude for both of you being alive.

— What are you thinking? — Hyun-ju asked, curious. — You've been looking at me for a while... Something on your mind?

You looked away, trying to organize the whirlwind of thoughts, especially during tense situations.

— I'm just happy you're alive. — Your voice came out calm but carried a sincerity that made Hyun-ju smile. You couldn't help but smile back, an almost automatic reaction. — I can't wait to get out of here. Do you think we'll have enough votes to end it for now? — you asked, and she seemed anxious, remaining silent for a moment.

— Maybe we'll leave today — she said softly.

— When we get out, I want you to meet my mom she will love you. I'll cook something nice for us — your voice was enthusiastic, momentarily forgetting the situation and thinking about meeting Hyun-ju in a different place.

— I'd like that — she smiled. — I didn't know you cooked.

— Well, I'm not a chef or anything, but I can make some tasty food.

— It's a deal, then — Hyun-ju said.The conversation was interrupted by a voice from another bed in the dormitory.

— Can I ask you something? — The older woman, with her son beside her, got your attention.

— Sure. — Hyun-ju responded politely, though you noticed a tension in her posture.— When you were playing jegi, why did you ask us not to look?Hyun-ju looked away, staring at the floor for a few seconds. The discomfort was palpable, and you wanted to offer support but didn't know how. Your mind raced, trying to find the right way to encourage her, but the words seemed stuck as usual.

— It's because I... — Hyun-ju began, but the woman interrupted.

— Shy? — the woman asked innocently. — Is that why?

— No, I'm not shy. It's just... I'm not finished...

— Finished what? — The woman's curiosity seemed insatiable.

— Mom, stop. — Yong-sik intervened, holding his mother's arm with evident desperation. — Stop asking so many questions.

— It's okay. — Hyun-ju tried to calm the situation. — It's just... I have more surgeries to go, and when people stare at me, I...You saw Hyun-ju's insecurity. Slowly, almost hesitantly, you slid your hand near hers, trying to convey comfort. Hyun-ju looked at you, and the small connection seemed to give her a bit more strength.

— Surgeries? Oh, so that's an implant, right? — The older woman said, realizing something but still not noticing Hyun-ju's discomfort. — I thought they were big...

She raised her hands as if to touch Hyun-ju's chest, but before she could continue, Yong-sik interrupted again, visibly embarrassed.

— Stop, mom! Don't touch her!

Relief came as more people entered, interrupting the conversation. You felt a little lighter seeing more people had survived, but not everyone felt the same, as you noticed the purple-haired man's group upset that more people had made it.

The masked soldiers entered. The tension returned as they began announcing the game results. Voices of indignation rose as people demanded a recount of the prize. But for you, the money no longer mattered. All you wanted was to leave that place and return to your mom. You looked at Hyun-ju, wishing to see her far from this hell.

As the voting started, your heart raced. Each vote was a stab of anxiety. You watched Yong-sik switch sides, pressing the "O" to continue. His mother's look of disappointment was hard to ignore. Your eyes met Hyun-ju's. Would she vote to continue too? She voted "O" before... No, she promised this would be the last time.

Your turn came. You walked to the panel, each step felt heavier. Without hesitation, you pressed the red "X," determined not to continue. You returned to the "X" side, your eyes fixed on Hyun-ju, waiting for her decision with your heart in your throat.

When her turn came, Hyun-ju walked to the panel. You watched, your body tense, your mind racing. Doubt was written on her face, but then, she pressed "O." The sound of the button being pressed seemed to echo in your head, drowning out every other noise around you. Your breath caught in your throat, and a wave of betrayal washed over you. You had agreed this would be the last game. Why would she lie? Your eyes filled with tears, the pain becoming almost unbearable.

She turned, and your eyes met. When Hyun-ju saw the pain and betrayal in your gaze, the realization of what she'd done hit her hard. She understood that her decision, based on her own needs and struggles, hadn't considered how deeply it would affect you. She had only thought of her debts, her unfinished transition, but now, seeing the pain in your eyes, the weight of her choice seemed unbearable.The voting continued, but everything around you became a blur. The voices of people debating whether to continue the game or not felt distant, almost unreal. The final result appeared: 23 votes difference. The games would continue. You stood up, walking slowly back to your bed. Each step felt drained of energy, each movement a struggle. You felt the eyes on you but had no strength to lift your head. You knew Hyun-ju was watching you, but the weight of disappointment was too heavy to face.

As meals were distributed, you remained still. The hunger had vanished, replaced by an overwhelming emptiness. Then, a pair of hands appeared before you, one holding a piece of bread, the other a liter of milk. You looked up slowly. It was Hyun-ju. She avoided your eyes, her expression filled with sadness.

— I noticed you didn't get any, so... I brought this for you. — Her voice was low, almost a whisper, filled with hesitation. You remained still, unwilling to take the food. — Please, eat something. You need to keep your strength up for tomorrow.

— I don't want to eat. — You murmured, your voice barely audible, reflecting your inner struggle.Hyun-ju placed the food beside you, letting out a heavy sigh.

— I'll leave it here... in case you change your mind. — She hesitated, her voice trembling with emotion. — I'm sorry for lying to you. I...

Before she could continue, Yong-sik and Geum-ja approached, breaking the tense moment.

— But I wasn't the only one who voted to continue. Look! Someone else voted for the circle, see? Look there — Yong-sik pointed at Hyun-ju as he spoke.

— Why did you do it? — Geum-ja asked, her voice filled with disappointment. — After promising we would eat together, why did you change your mind?—She said, mentioning a conversation you had before, where she had invited you to visit her house.—Is it because of your surgeries? Are they that expensive?

Hyun-ju remained silent, her gaze fixed on the floor. The words seemed trapped, but finally, she spoke, her voice breaking under the weight of her memories.

— Everything was... fine until I revealed who I really am. People thought I was strange, but that wasn't a problem. — Her voice trembled, each word a painful effort. — But after I said I wanted to be a woman and went through my transition... everything fell apart. My mom cried, my dad rejected me. I got fired and lost my friends. I need the surgeries, but I have no job, no money. I felt free, but... my life became unbearably hard.

You lifted your face, the initial anger starting to dissipate in light of her raw words. The weight of what she was carrying became clear. Despite the pain you felt, you began to understand. Hyun-ju wasn't just fighting for money, but for her own survival and dignity.

— Oh my... and what did you do for work? — Geum-ja asked, now with a softness in her voice.

— I was a soldier. — Hyun-ju replied, the weight of the revelation making Yong-sik's mouth fall open in surprise. You were a bit surprised, seeing the sweet woman Hyun-ju is, that job hadn't crossed your mind, but remembering how she acted in the game and how she handled the game's environment kind of made sense.

— And what will you do when you get out of here? — Geum-ja asked curiously.

— I'm going to Thailand. — The determination in her voice was clear, conveying hope. — I'll play one more game, have the surgeries there, buy a house... and start a new life.

Your heart ached. Thailand? She would go so far away? Maybe you'd never see her again.

— I've been to Thailand. — Yong-sik said, trying to lighten the mood. — There are many people like Hyun-ju there, you know? Seriously, and many are much slimmer and prettier than a lot of women I've seen. It's amazing.

— They say people there are much prettier. — Hyun-ju said.

You took a deep breath, trying to gather the courage to speak. Your voice came out trembling but full of sincerity.

— You're beautiful. It was the first thing I thought when I saw you.

Hyun-ju lifted her gaze, happy that you spoke to her and by your words, her eyes shining with unshed tears. Your words hit her with a force she didn't expect. After everything she'd been through, hearing that from you was like a balm to her soul. She held back her tears, feeling the warmth of your words filling the emptiness in her heart. For the first time in a long time, she felt seen, not as a freak, but as who she truly was.

___

The time for lights out was approaching, and a growing discomfort took hold of you. You felt a penetrating gaze that made your skin prickle, as if something invisible was pressing down on you. Your eyes scanned the room until they found the man with purple hair. He was staring at you with an almost suffocating intensity, his eyes fixed on you in a way that seemed to strip you bare, layer by layer. It was as if he were piercing through all your barriers with a single look.

Your heart raced, and the air seemed heavier. You tried to look away, thinking that maybe if you did, he would stop staring at you that way.

— Can we talk? — Hyun-ju's voice sounded beside you, pulling you back to reality. You turned to her, now alone as the woman and her son had left. You still felt the weight of that gaze on your back. The hairs on your arms stood on end, as if sensing something bad.

— Yes, of course. — Your voice came out more tense than you intended. You tried to focus on Hyun-ju, but the discomfort persisted, like a constant shadow.Hyun-ju took a deep breath, her eyes fixed on the floor.

— I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made promises I couldn't keep. I was wrong, and I'm sorry.

You observed her posture, visibly dejected.

— Hyun-ju, I understand that you're seeking your happiness. But I won't lie, your actions hurt me. I don't want to continue in this game, but I also can't force you to leave. I can't completely judge you because I don't face the same challenges you do. But I understand the pain of people distancing themselves.You paused, searching for the right words. — I've never had many friends. In school, the few I managed to make distanced themselves, afraid of also becoming targets of bullying, like I was. I know what it's like to feel empty.Hyun-ju raised her eyes, slightly widened, speechless.

— I voted to stay, but I will protect you. I made a promise to myself and I won't break it. As long as I breathe, I'll be by your side. Don't worry, I won't let anything happen to you and I promise this will be the last time I vote to continue..

You nodded, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders.

— Alright. Just... please, don't lie again. I don't like lies.

O silêncio que se seguiu foi pesado, mas trouxe uma estranha sensação de alívio, como se ambos estivessem começando a se entender, apesar de tudo. Você examinou a sala com os olhos até encontrar o homem de cabelo roxo. Ele estava observando você com uma intensidade quase esmagadora, perfurando cada camada do seu ser, ele mencionou um homem parado ao lado dele, que olhou para você e então riu junto com ele.

As luzes finalmente se apagaram, e você se virou na cama, tentando em vão encontrar o sono. A escuridão deveria ter trazido alívio, mas o pensamento do jogo mortal esperando por você na manhã seguinte não o deixaria em paz. A ansiedade apertou sua garganta, tornando cada respiração mais difícil. E agora, a pressão em sua bexiga começou a atormentá-lo. Você não conseguiria esperar até o amanhecer. Então, silenciosamente, você se levantou, tentando não acordar ninguém, mas quando estava prestes a sair, sua mão foi agarrada.

— Where are you going? — Hyun-ju asked, still sleepy, blinking slowly. She woke up as soon as your feet hit the floor, as if she were connected to you. She almost laughed, but the weight of the night didn’t allow it.

— I need to go to the bathroom — you whispered, trying not to disturb anyone else.

— I’ll go with you. It could be dangerous — Hyun-ju replied, getting up, but you interrupted her.

— It’s okay, go back to sleep. Nothing will happen. I’ll just go to the bathroom and come back quickly — you tried to reassure her. She hesitated at first but eventually nodded, still reluctant.

Hyun-ju saw you walking toward the bathroom door. She noticed the brief exchange with the guard before you entered, and then, a few minutes later, She saw two more people getting up to go to the bathroom. A bad feeling settled in her stomach, but she tried to ignore it. Maybe it was just her mind exaggerating, she thought.

Inside the bathroom, time seemed to crawl. The sound of water running was a constant in your mind. Then, you felt, cold and relentless, the presence of someone behind you. Your hairs stood up instantly.

— I’ve waited so long to find you alone, but that friend of yours never leaves your side. It was irritating — the man’s voice sounded low and threatening. You turned and saw him, the man who had been watching you earlier. Panic spread quickly through your body, but you tried to remain calm. Something was wrong, and this shouldn’t be happening.

— This is the women’s bathroom. You shouldn’t be here — you said, stepping as far away from him as possible. But he didn’t seem to care.

— Meu amigo e eu queremos mais votos para continuar jogando, então esse "x" ali precisa sair — disse Namgyu, que surgiu por trás do homem de cabelos roxos pressionando o dedo contra o tecido, a força causando uma leve ardência na pele.

— I just want to leave. Accept that — you replied, your tone firm but tense, trying to assert your opinion.— Oh, look at that, seems like we've got a brave one here — Thanos mocked, laughing.

— Do we need to teach this bitch a lesson so she learns some manners, man? — Namgyu asked, and Thanos grinned, stepping closer. His imposing figure became even more intimidating as he shoved you hard. You stumbled, nearly falling, fear growing in your eyes.

— Please, stop this. Just let me go — you pleaded, your voice trembling.

— Are you going to vote to keep playing the next game? — he asked, getting no response. He chuckled, raising his hand and delivering a hard slap. You fell to the ground, your face burning with a red mark as tears streamed down.

— I bet after this lesson, you'll change your mind — Namgyu said, kicking your stomach. The pain made you double over, powerless against their violence. Tears rolled down as you tried to defend yourself, but it was futile. The pain and humiliation brought back memories of your teenage years, of bullying, of cruel laughter.Suddenly, the kicking stopped. When you opened your eyes, you saw Hyun-ju, delivering precise blows. Namgyu and Thanos tried to fight back, but it was useless. She was relentless, only stopping when they were beaten and scared enough not to try anything else. They fled, leaving the bathroom in a panic

Your body was shaking, your head was spinning, and you just wanted to disappear. The sensation was unbearable. The memories of bullying from years ago flooded back, the recollection of being cornered behind the school while your classmates beat you. What Namgyu and Thanos did was the breaking point. You felt utterly out of control.

You hit your head against the wall, trying to turn the psychological pain into physical pain, something more bearable. But soon, you felt something different. A gentle hand held your head, but you still couldn’t stop. Your movements seemed frantic, and she held you with a little more force, interrupting the frantic rhythm of your head against the wall and your hand. When you looked, you saw Hyun-ju in front of you, her eyes worried, but her voice still seemed distant, muffled by the pain.

— It’s okay, not here anymore, it’s me. It’s over, it’s okay — Hyun-ju said, trying to calm you down. Her voice still seemed distant, but her presence was everything you needed at that moment.

She hugged you, holding you tightly, whispering words of comfort as her tears soaked your shoulder. But there was no peace. The weight of it all was still on you, and the feeling of helplessness continued to consume you. Your mind was in a dark place, and every word from Hyun-ju seemed to echo as if it were another reality, one you couldn’t reach. You tried to calm down, but you couldn’t. Your breathing was fast, your mind racing, your body paralyzed by anxiety.You felt your body slowly relaxing, but the feeling of helplessness didn’t go away. Your voice was weak when you spoke.

— I don’t want to be here anymore. I just want to go home... — Your voice came out dragged, weak, as if each word was a monumental effort.Hyun-ju hugged you tighter, as if she could protect you from all of that, from everything that had happened and was still happening. But the pain, the guilt, she couldn’t dissipate the regret stamped on her face.

—I know... I'm sorry...— she said, the weight of guilt heavy in her words. Thoughts swirled in her mind—if only she hadn’t voted in that circle, none of this would have happened. If only she had insisted on going with you to the bathroom, Thanos and Namgyu would never have had the chance to approach you. She blamed herself, but you could no longer think about what could have been; it all felt irrelevant. It didn’t matter what might have been, what could have changed. The pain was here now, and nothing else made sense. You gave in to the pain, crying against her as she wrapped you in her jacket, trying to warm you, shield you, protect you, even if she didn’t know if it was possible.

Hyun-ju tried to stop you from hurting yourself, holding your hands that were scratching, trying to substitute the head hits, but it was as if you were trapped in an endless cycle. She held you tighter, her hands now trying to hold you with all the energy she had, as if she could stop the pain from continuing. Her words of comfort came in a constant flow, but you could hardly hear them. All you could feel was the agony inside you.

— I don’t know what else to do... — Hyun-ju murmured to herself, her voice cracking with frustration, with the despair of not being able to help you.

She felt her own impotence, felt like she was failing you in every possible way. Her face was pale, silent tears falling down her face as well. She didn’t know what else to do, but she kept trying, insisting on holding you as if it were possible to bring you back to your body, she didn’t know what else to do, but she wouldn’t leave you alone. She didn’t want you to go through this without someone by your side. Time seemed to stretch, as if the crisis would never end, and she didn’t know how much longer she would be able to bear seeing you like this.She whispered, repeatedly, almost pleading.

— I’m here... Please, listen to me... You’re not alone... I’m here... I won’t leave you...

#park sunghoon #player 120 #squid game #autistic reader #cho hyun ju x reader #cho hyunju

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kayharrisons · 3 months ago

Text

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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captain-bubble-wrap · 2 months ago

Text

Intemporelle; timeless

Paring: Quinn Hughes | OC Female (Older)

Chapter: 1 of ? | A Chance Meeting

WC: 5,825

Genre: Romance/Fluff

Warnings: Alcohol use, swearing, mentioned depressive thoughts, guilt/shame, embarrassment

Summary: Off-season wedding within the Canucks' organization. Quinn is drunk when he's introduced to a friend of the bride and groom. Things take a turn when he gets sick and requires being tucked into bed.

Big thank you to @insidious-apple for letting me gush about my silly ideas and spamming you with updates.

White flowers fell in cascaded archways over top of every doorway in the chateau's ballroom. No expense had been spared on the wedding, now in full swing, that evening. Guests had been arriving the last three days to the Fairmont Chateau to enjoy the luxuries afforded by their hosts. No matter where you looked, luxe decorations reminded you of the scope of the affair.

By now, the reception had gone late into the beginning hours of the morning. Parents, grand-parents, aunts, and uncles had all said their goodbyes hours before, leaving the younger generations to continue the festivities. Shoes had been abandoned, empty glasses, and plates of cake littered several tables, their respective owners all mingling on the dance floor or in their rooms entirely.

Madeline Ramsey, best friend of the bride, had gotten to the resort just that morning. Work as a dress consultant in one of Vancouver's high-end bridal stores had kept her away from joining the rest of the bridal party's celebrations and had made her feel like she was playing catch-up ever since the ceremony. She was tall, curvy; a deep brunette with striking sage green eyes. She had just turned thirty-four two months prior in June; becoming now the last of all of her girlfriends to tie the knot. Years before, she was so consumed by the fact that she wasn't even in a relationship let alone engaged, but now, it was just another day on her own.

"Maddie! About time you showed! You were missed!" The groom hollered over the booming DJ equipment. He was obviously feeling no pain, throwing his arm over his friend that was standing next to him and whose conversation had been interrupted when she wandered near. The friend, looked in way worse shape than the groom but equally enjoying his time at the reception, locked eyes on Maddie and never took his eyes off her.

"I'm sorry! You didn't have to schedule your wedding in peak season either! I work in the industry, you know!"

"I forgot about that. But hey! You're here now!"

They stood there for a few minutes, just talking, giving congratulations and catching up. Maddie still being admired from the unintroduced bystander, took a sip of her wine, smiling with her eyes over the rim of her glass.

"Ah, goddamn, sorry! Maddie, Quinn; Quinn, Maddie."

"Hello," she says, making Quinn smile, his eyes finally falling away from her for the first time.

"Quinny's a little shy," the groom jokes. Quinn's face goes beet red in the dimly lit hall, at the sound of being called by one of his nicknames. He receives a playful shove to his shoulder from his teammate before he turns to leave. "I hate to leave you too, but I need to check on my bride. She's been left unsupervised with an open bar...for probably too long. Don't be strangers!"

Maddie said her goodbyes and turned her attention back to Quinn. He was looking down at his feet, kicking one with the other. His awkwardness made her smile. "So, I take it you play with Connor?"

"Yeah, he's a great guy," Quinn replied, trying to keep his drunk gaze on her face. "You're really...pretty."

His compliment was the last thing she had expected to hear so she just stared at him like a deer in the headlights for a second. Knowing she heard him correctly, she still asked him to repeat himself like the music was too loud.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

Quinn shook his head, trying to make it come off like he hadn’t said anything, realizing in his drunkenness he had some regret over saying what he had. After a few moments, he began to crack a smile.

“Yeah, huh, you said I was pretty.” Maddie teased, taking another drink from her glass.

“Nuh-uh,” Quinn grinned.

Maddie, realizing he was being full of shit, gave her best fake, dramatic gasp. “How rude!” Quinn just continued to smile that same cheesy grin. Leaving it alone, Maddie looked forward to the dance floor, trying to see if there was anyone she needed to say hello to before while they could still remember seeing her. However, from where she stood it was hard to say.

“Would you want....would you like to dance?” Quinn blurts out, when the song changes to a slow one making Maddie look back over at the young captain.

“You want to dance? With me?”

Quinn nodded quickly in succession, like a little boy asked if wanted candy.

“Since you called me pretty…I guess,” she teased. “Yes, I’ll dance with you.” Putting her glass and clutch down on a nearby table she takes Quinn’s wobbly, outstretched arm and tries her best to let him lead her to the outer fringes of the dance floor.

At first, Quinn seemed hesitant to put his hands on her for the dance. Maddie helped him along by putting her arms around his neck which brought the two of them together quickly. Quinn’s face burned hot smelling her perfume and feeling her so close to him.

"Are you okay?" She said, leaning in to tease him.

"Mhm." He blushed, again.

The two of them just swayed back and forth to the slow beat of the song, in their own little world and no one paid them a bit of mind. Maddie stood an couple inches taller than Quinn due to her heels but he didn't seem to mind. From time-to-time, she'd look over at Quinn who would just start to giggle. However, towards the end of the song, something changed in his face.

"Quinn?" Maddie's brows pulled inward. Looking at him a little longer, she knew that look. His breathing had deepened, his brows were knitted together, and he just looked worried. He was going to be sick if she wasn't proactive in getting him out of there, for the sake of his pride if nothing else. "C'mon, let's get you outside."

This time, he doesn't even nod. He fully lets her guide him to the connecting hallway where she hoped she might find a bathroom. Quinn's feet began to drag, like he was fighting the urge to expel his guts all over the marble hallway.

"You're okay," she reassures, her hand in his. "Hold on just a little longer."

He didn't answer her; didn't even hum an answer, just kept his eyes down and clung to her grasp. Eventually, she'd find him a safe place and he wasted no time pushing through the door while Maddie waited outside. While she stood there, she remembered she had left her purse behind. If she didn't get it now, the possibility of someone else running off with it, or forgetting it entirely, was growing with each second she stood there.

Down the hall she sprinted - sprinted as fast as she could in her heels - to gather her things and return to Quinn hopefully before he was better. Before she reached the door she slowed to a dignified walk and acted like nothing was wrong. No one needed to know there were things going on; not her friends or his.

"Maddie!"

"Maddie come here! Where have you been?" A couple bridesmaids spotted her and at the top of their voices they yelled her name. "Come dance with us!"

Maddie just smiled and waved a "no thank you" in their direction. Their audible, disappointed whines melted into the music as she passed by them. She'd blow the group a kiss before finally parting ways, thankful that she had been able to skirt that situation without being too hindered, or asked why she was leaving; worse yet if they had seen her leave with Quinn.

Back down the hall her heels clicked almost at a panicked pace. She'd turn that final corner to see Quinn sitting on the ground, outside the bathroom door, his head resting on his knees as he hugged them. When his eyes lifted to see her, they were red and wet. He looked so tired, drained, and just like he still felt like shit.

"I'm sorry, Quinn. I just left to get my bag."

Quinn shook his head, his eyes staying locked on her face, "It's okay."

"C'mon, how about we get you upstairs?" Maddie reached down, both of her arms extended for him to take her hands and get up off the floor. His skin was cool and clammy when he finally decided to move and reach out for her. "Nice and slow."

He had lost his suit jacket by this point, it laid beside him in a crumpled heap but he was so wobbly getting back up that Maddie decided to get it for him instead. Quinn stood against the wall, his breathing slowed now and he was leaning.

"Do you have your room key, Quinn?" She asked respectfully feeling around in the pockets of the jacket in case it was in there.

"Mhm, somewhere. Oh, here, I think." From the pocket of his pants, Quinn produced the black room key and did his best to hand it to her.

"Thank you. Do you want to wear your jacket?" Maddie asked, thought it laid draped over her left arm. He shook his head and stayed leaning against the wall. "Do you need a minute?"

"No."

He sounded awful; like there was nothing left in him to interact with. Maddie put her hand against his back and his eyes opened, looking at her with exhaustion. She wanted to help him, but there was only so much comfort she could offer him from their current position. "Ready?"

"Yeah."

Getting Quinn towards the elevator had been easier than getting him to the bathroom, but it was still no speed walk. He was still wobbly underfoot and couldn't walk in a straight line without Maddie as a bumper. He mumbled inaudible apologies, laying his head on her shoulder as the elevator doors closed and pulled them upwards towards the top floor suites.

"I...sorry." Quinn spoke through a sigh. "I am...I'm really sorry."

Maddie smiled, her cheek laying against his head ever so slightly to give him that brief moment of unashamed comfort. "We've all been there, Quinn, it's fine! You'll feel better in the morning."

"I don't...think....I doubt it," he replied, causing Maddie to stifle a laugh. His deep, full-bodied sighs were the only sound beyond the dings from the floors the elevator was passing. The chateau's top floor opened up to the two of them and she let Quinn step out at his own pace. Naturally, his room would be at the other end of the hall but she never once rushed him. It didn't matter if it took five minutes or fifteen, she'd let him stop whenever he needed to collect himself.

"Do you...have...do you have my key?" He asked, feeling around in his pocket. His voice was getting deeper, more monotone. Was he getting more relaxed or just on the verge of falling asleep?

"Yes, Quinn, I have your key."

"Oh, okay."

The lock clicked and with the weighted door pushed open, Maddie would insist Quinn go in first. He put one hand on the door, then the other on the wall and felt his way inside while Maddie stayed close behind; her fingertips hovering just behind the center of his back. He'd find his way safely to the edge of the bed and flopped down with another heavy sigh, laying on his back.

"I'm sorry," Quinn continued to apologize, his hands covering his eyes. "I'm...I'm really sorry."

"Don't be sorry," she added, hanging up his jacket. "Do want some help getting into bed?"

"Yes, please. Wait, no, yeah...I don't know."

Maddie smiled though Quinn never saw it. She stood there just looking at him have an existential crisis in real time. "Come on, let me help you or else you're just going to lay there all night in your suit."

"I'm fine."

"Quinn." Maddie said, her brows raised.

"Okay." He was just being a big kid at this point but she found it cute. She'd get his shoes untied and him pulled back up to a seated position. His little legs didn't reach the floor and she'd find Quinn kicking his sock feet when she turned back around.

Quinn's golden eyes just looked at her while she slowly unbuttoned his dress shirt. "Have I told you...that I think....that you're really pretty?"

Maddie tried not to look at him, not out of embarrassment, but because she, too, wanted to get back to her room and if she looked at him every time he said something adorable, she'd be there all night. However, when he brought a hand up to stop her from undoing another button, she had no choice.

"Have I? Because you...because you are." The natural sincerity in his words touched her, drunk or not. The look in his eyes said nothing but the truth.

"You have, a couple times, yes," she smiled, his hand still holding on to both of hers. "That's very sweet of you."

Finally, the childlike joy flashed in his eyes again and he mirrored her smile, "Okay...okay good. Someone should...you should be told that."

"Alright, Prince Charming, can I finish what I'm doing?" Maddie winked.

"You're trying to get me...you're taking my clothes off! You're...you want me naked, huh?"

This time she couldn't help but snort, she laughs so hard. Quinn just looks at her wide eyed and serious; almost shocked thinking he got her intentions correct.

"I knew it! Here, I'll...I'll help you!"

"Quinn it's fine! I--," but before she could finish her sentence, he started fussing with his belt but clumsy fingers couldn't conquer the buckle.

"I can't...I'm stuck...in my pants. Wow..."

Shaking her head she'd finally finish with the last remaining buttons of his shirt while he hung his head in what appeared to be the most self-defeating shame. She was, however, able to get him to his feet just long enough to get him out of his pants, leaving him wobbly there in a t-shirt and his underwear.

"Okay, bedtime," Maddie said, giving his back a little tap.

"Okay," he yawned, shuffling a few feet towards the turned back covers. Once he was under the blankets she put his phone on the charger but not before putting her number in his contacts, just in case.

"If you need anything, you can call me, alright? Do you remember my name?"

"Maddie?"

"Mhm, so if you need anything, just call, okay?"

"Thank you," Quinn said, giving her one of his bashful grins from earlier in the evening.

Maddie, standing next to him held her hair back before leaning forward to place a soft kiss to his forehead. Quinn smiled wider, snuggling deeper beneath the blankets after she turned off the light. "Good night, Prince Charming."

"Good night, Maddie. It was...I'm glad that...it was really nice to meet you."

"It was lovely to meet you, too, Quinn. Get some sleep, okay?"

"Thank you, you too."

In the darkness of the room Maddie smiled, before turning away from her not-so secret admirer. Once the door closed behind her, she hoped he'd be alright through the night. She felt that after some good sleep he'd bounce back to his old self which was a thought that she held for herself as well. And with said thought, Maddie returned to her own room, two floors down from Quinn's, instead of returning to the reception.

Maddie's room was much smaller than Quinn's suite, but seeing as she could only stay the one night, it was for the best, plus, she didn't have NHL money to afford the twenty-five-hundred-dollars a night charge. She undid the ankle straps of her stilettos, removed her jewelry, and slipped out of her dress. Having those heels off was such a relief but walking without them was terribly painful.

The cold tile brought some relief, as she stood before the vanity removing her makeup. Hot steam rolled from the spa-like tub filling with water and fragrant scents behind her. By this point, it was well after 2am, and by her face in the mirror, she felt it. This bath would be well worth the wait.

Forty minutes later, with her hair in a messy top-bun, Maddie stood there in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of boyshorts. She was exhausted as she applied her skincare, yearning for the comforting embrace of her bed that was just around the corner. That was before her phone began to ring in the next room. There was only one person she could think of that would be calling her: Quinn.

"Quinn?"

From the other end of the phone, a slight reverberation echoed with each word he struggled to speak.

"I need you. Please."

"Okay, okay, I'll be there in a few minutes," she replied, worried.

His line went dead and the phone call ended. Maddie didn't even bother putting on her leggings; just slipped on her white sneakers, grabbed her phone and sprinted down her own hallway to get to Quinn as fast as she could. The elevator took forever to open to her floor but at least it had been empty. Her acrylic nails tapped against the buttons, queuing Quinn's floor as she impatiently waited for the final stop.

"610, 611, 612," Maddie whispered to herself, hoping she had remember the correct room number. Knocking lightly, she hoped he would hear her.

"I'm sorry," Quinn said, opening the door to her slowly. He was covered in sweat, his white shirt damp and his hair all in front of his eyes.

"What's wrong?" No sooner had she reached for his shoulder, Quinn was turning away to stumble back to the bathroom.

Dry heaves. The devil.

He had nothing left to lose, but his body was trying to convince him that if he didn't clear his system, he'd continue to be miserable. Maddie followed behind him, seeing him draped over the toilet, his shoulders rolled forward as his body tensed against each retching episode.

"Oh, Quinn," she said under her breath. She knew his pain; dry heaves were almost worse than actually having to vomit: less painful. Maddie ran a washcloth beneath the cold tap and wrung it out before placing in on the back of his neck. His body shuddered against the sharp sensation which prompted her to run her hand up and down his spine for comfort and support. "You're okay."

He started to sniffle when he pulled away, feeling awful both physically and about having her see him like this. Maddie would hand him a towel off the warmer and he buried his face in it immediately. Her sympathy for him was growing. He just looked like a little boy getting sick for the first time.

"Want to try laying back down?"

He nodded.

"Okay, come on, sweetheart," Maddie cooed, getting him to his feet. His fingers clung to her body without hesitation, unlike before. Now, he came off like he needed her; no longer bashful about being so close to her. "You sit right here, okay?"

"I'll try," Quinn said, sitting back down on the edge of his bed a second time. She returned to his side with a bottle of water he had left out from earlier in the day. It wasn't full but it would serve its purpose.

"I need you to drink this, okay? Just little sips, alright?"

Quinn took the bottle and brought it to his lips several times; each time he pulled it away, he gasped for air slightly. He was still shaking; his shirt slightly damp from sweat. Maddie was standing directly in front of him, close enough for him to lean into her. When the bottle was nearly empty, Quinn reached out for her and pulled her into him; his head nestled directly between her breasts. She knew he didn't mean to be so forward, so she didn't push him away.

"You'll be okay, Quinn, I promise," Maddie said softly, both hands lost in his hair.

Eventually, he'd look up at her, the faint light from the harsh overhead bathroom fixture giving the bedroom enough illumination to see his expression. He looked so worried, so scared by everything going on with him in that moment. Maddie brushed the hair from his forehead; his eyelids fluttering closed each time she brushed them away.

"Wanna lay back down?"

Quinn's brows pulled together, like he was unsure if he should or not. Maddie continued to play with his hair, her pointed nails raking against his scalp comfortably,

"I don't want to get sick again." Quinn's voice was meek and solidified the notion that he was scared.

"I don't think you will. I think your body knows now that everything is gone now. Let's try getting you back in bed, okay?"

He nods again, his arms falling away from her waist as she takes a step back to give him room to move, taking the bottle from him. Quinn slips back beneath the covers as Maddie covers him up to his chin. "Can I get you anything?"

"No, thank you."

"Okay, if you're sure."

"You're not leaving, are you?" He asked, seeing her turn away from him again. Maddie turn back, her eyes locking onto his face immediately.

"Aw, Quinn you don't have to pout." The sight broke her heart, but she wondered if staying was really the best decision. However, looking at him beneath the covers, his dark eyes conveying immeasurable amounts of sadness, and that bottom lip. How dare he look so cute yet so heartbreakingly miserable.

"I don't want you to go," he mumbled.

"You're okay now, I promise."

"Please, stay?" Quinn pleaded again, this time with more emotion in his voice.

Maddie's eyes pulled away from his face. The bed was an obvious King; too much for one person let alone two. Quinn hadn't come off like a guy who couldn't keep his hands to himself so what harm would it be to stay?

"Okay, if you want me to say, I'll stay." She tried giving him a reassuring smile, but it didn't change his sorrowful expression.

Climbing into the bed from the other side, Maddie got close enough to Quinn that if he needed her she was within arms reach. She didn't want to crowd him, they didn't know each other that way. Surely he'd understand, right? She'd let her eyes fall closed but they didn't remain closed for long. The feeling of Quinn's hand touching her bare leg made her flinch.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" He mumbled. "I just...I didn't mean it, I just..."

Maddie didn't say anything, instead, she found his arm and followed it downward until her hand found his. Quinn gave hers a little squeeze, his heart falling back into its normal rhythm after his scare. It was all he had wanted in the end. They'd fall asleep hand-in-hand; Quinn's head facing Maddie's on their respective pillows.

Hours later, way into morning, Maddie awoke to find Quinn snuggled up beside her. His stray curls had tickled her nose, pulling her from a comfortable slumber. He remained asleep as she did her best to carefully leave his side, ensuring he stayed asleep. Afterall, it was Quinn who needed to recover from the wild night of drinking, not her.

Quiet as she could, Maddie laced up her shoes, grabbed her phone and redid her hair before slipping out of the room. She tugged at the hem of the shirt she wore as she walked, and even though it fell just below her backside, she wasn't at a frat house; this was a luxury resort... She felt dirty, like she was walking a modified walk-of-shame. Had Quinn been awake she might have asked to borrow a pair of his sweatpants or something but that just didn't happen. Maybe she could play it off like she had been in the gym or something, but though she wasn't sweating or out of breath, it might just look like a big lie.

Thankfully for Maddie, there was no one around. Everyone still seemed to be sleeping off their hangovers which kept the halls and elevators empty. Once back inside her room, everything was like she had left it in her frantic leaving some hours prior. The lights were still on, her bed was still made, even the containers of skincare remained open and strewn about the counter like she was in the process of applying it. Looking at the mess, she couldn't believe she had just dropped everything for a guy she had just met. Granted, the way Quinn had sounded and what he had said, it had conveyed urgency. She'd spend the next hour packing and preparing to head back to Vancouver.

It was the headache that had woken Quinn up.

The curtains were still drawn, his phone was silent, and he was alone. He didn't dream about everything that had happened the night before, had he? He had met Maddie, and gotten sick, and had begged her to stay, right? They went to bed together, too? Where was she now, he wondered. Clawing his way up to rest his body weight on his forearms, he looked around the room, but there was no sign of her; no sound but the gentle whistle of the air conditioner.

Quinn sighed, pinching his eyes shut before the buzzing of his phone on the nightstand grabbed his attention.

Connor: Hey bud (10:38am)

Connor: You alive? (10:38am)

Connor: Just checking in

Didnt see you again after leaving you with maddie (10:39am)

Quinn: Yeah, I'm alive. (10:40am)

Connor: Thats good

She treat you alright? ;) (10:42am)

Quinn: Yeah, I'm pretty sure I made an ass of myself, though.

She's the only reason I made it back to my room this morning. (10:45am)

Connor: ooooh ;) (10:45am)

Quinn: It was nothing like that. (10:47am)

Connor: Well damn, lol

You get sick? (10:48am)

Quinn: Yes. (10:49am)

Connor: On her? (10:54am)

Quinn: No, but I have a feeling I said some things I shouldn't have. (10:56am)

Connor: Oh im sure shes okay (10:58am)

Quinn: Hopefully.

I need to get up and shower. What are you guys doing today? (11:01am)

Connor: Sounds good

Come meet us downstairs for brunch (11:09am)

Quinn: I'll see you in a few. (11:11am)

Quinn let his phone from his hand into the duvet as he laid on his back once his conversation with Connor had concluded. He had no strength to get out of bed and get in the shower, though he knew the hot water would likely bring him some comfort. Several minutes passed before he finally threw the covers aside and left the warm embrace of the linens.

Before he made it to the bathroom, in the small closet area, Quinn noticed his suit hung up and his dress shoes on the rack below it. He hadn't expected to see everything so nice, so tenderly cared for. Maddie really had taken care of him from the moment she had met him. Normally, he would have smiled to himself at such a kindness, but instead Quinn found himself with an opposite emotion. He should have been able to do everything she had done for him on his own. Instead, he was ashamed of everything and dreaded hearing of anything he didn't remember.

Hanging his head, Quinn entered the bathroom and hoped the hot steam would erase his lingering shame.

"Maddie! You're not leaving us, are you?" Sarah, the bride of the whole affair said, seeing her best friend walking past their private, outdoor dining area. The chateau had no shortage of stunning views, outdoor patios, and grand interior decorating. Maddie was sad to be leaving after essentially just arriving, and considering she hadn't even turned back the blankets of her bed, it was shame to just pack up and leave, but she had other obligations.

Maddie stopped and gave a sorrowful expression to her childhood friend. "I've gotta get back to the city, babe!"

"Not even for brunch and mimosas? You literally just got here!" Sarah got up from her table and made her way to where Maddie had stopped. They met in a hug and Sarah hoped she could still convince her friend to stay just a little longer.

"Yeah, I know, and I want to stay, but I just have so much to do. It was so hard for me to even get yesterday off! I have over a dozen appointments a day right now. I'm working twelves just to make my numbers."

Sarah pouted, both because she hadn't been convincing enough and also because she hated to hear how over-worked her bestie was. "Well, we'll have to meet up sometime when you have a minute. I miss you, girlie!"

"I miss you, too!" Maddie responded, giving Sarah another loving hug.

"You be careful! Text me when you get home, please!"

"Oh, absolutely, I'd like that. And Connor, you take care of her for me!" Maddie threatened playfully. Connor returned comments of assurance before giving his well-wishes as well. She didn't like goodbyes, but thankfully they were all around Vancouver and it was easy enough to make plans. Maddie would just have to survive wedding season first.

"Well, we'll let you go! Please, be careful!"

"I will. Love you," Maddie said, with one final goodbye.

"We love you, too!"

Before Maddie left, Connor left the table to give her his personal farewells. His hug was tighter than Sarah's but it came with a meaning.

"Hey, thanks for taking care of Quinn the other night. I appreciate it."

Maddie pulled away, and looked upon his face with confusion. "He told you about that?"

"Yeah, and he was pretty embarrassed. I just wanted to thank you. I don't think anyone else would have done that."

She gave him a slight nod, a silent agreement between the two of them. Maddie waved back to the table once they parted ways and turned back towards the direction of the main lobby. At the same time she was leaving, Quinn rounded the corner and stopped when he saw her. Those legs, bare beneath the pale, floral sundress she was wearing; the same ones he vaguely remembered touching by accident. The dread came flooding in once again, remembering bits and pieces of things he had done that morning. She was leaving and he found himself feeling sad yet he was unable to do anything but watch her go. It was only after she was out of sight that he forced himself to walk again.

"Ah, there he is!" Connor teased, seeing Quinn finally darken the patio doorway. "You just missed Maddie. You know, if you hurry you might be able to apologize to her before she leaves."

Quinn looked down and sighed. It would take him a second to take his seat at their table.

"It's alright, bud, we all do stupid shit around pretty girls sometimes."

Sarah gave her husband's arm a slight tap, "Baby! Don't tease him like that! That's not nice!"

"Oh, he's fine, but you should have seen him, though. I don't think he blinked the whole time we stood there."

"Connor! Stop it!" By now, Sarah was trying not to laugh.

"Is she still dating the Henrik Lundqvist looking guy?" Connor asked, taking a slightly more serious turn with the conversation.

"Who, Jared? No, they split a year ago or something," Sarah recollected before taking a sip of her champagne drink. "I couldn't stand that guy. He was a pretentious asshole."

"Wasn't he a lawyer or something?"

"I think so, yeah. I mean, I know what she saw in him, but Christ. She's better off."

"Now's your chance, Quinny! Next year, it's your wedding we'll be going to if you play your cards right!"

"Ha, yeah, okay," he mumbled, his eyes scanning the morning's specials instead of interacting directly with the couple.

"I don't see Quinn the type to get engaged and married within a year," Sarah said, looking upon the young man with a smile, a hint of mischief in her eyes. Of course, she'd love to see her best friend find a great guy to be with, but she wasn't sure if Quinn was that fit either.

"I don't know, you should have seen how he looked at her, babe. It looked like love at first sight to me."

"I'm sitting right here," Quinn said in a huff, starting to get annoyed with the constant berating.

"Alright, alright! Fair enough," Connor chuckled.

Quinn's mind was racing like his heart in his chest. He still felt terrible about everything he had done, that other people knew, and that Maddie's opinion of him was probably terrible. He'd sit with Connor and Sarah through brunch, mostly hearing them talk, occasionally including him when needed. His mind was elsewhere: replaying the night before, wondering what he could do to rectify the past situation, and wondering if he'd ever see the tall brunette that called him Prince Charming, again.

After brunch, Quinn would remember that he had her phone number. By then, however, she would be hitting

Quinn: Hey, I'm really sorry about last night.

I hope I didn't do anything to offend you last night. (1:15pm)

Quinn: I feel awful about everything.

You were very kind to me, through everything. (1:25pm}

Quinn: I'm sorry if I'm rambling and bothering you. (1:27pm)

Quinn: I'd love to make it up to you, if you'd let me. (1:31pm)

Quinn: I know you're busy with work right now, but if you have some free time, may I take you to dinner sometime? (1:33pm)

Quinn: I'm sure you're still driving.

Sorry to keep messaging you. (1:37pm)

Maddie: You don't have anything to apologize for. <3 I'm just hoping you're feeling better! (2:45pm)

Maddie: Dinner sounds nice, but you don't have to do that just because you're sorry. (2:45pm)

Quinn: I'm tired, but I'm okay. Thank you. Did you make it home okay? (2:46pm)

Quinn: I am sorry about my actions, but I honestly would like to take you out. Genuinely. (2:46pm)

Maddie: :) You're sweet!

And yes, just got in, thanks. (2:53pm)

Quinn: That's good. (2:55pm)

Quinn: Hope you have a good afternoon and evening. (3:25pm)

Maddie: Sorry! My phone died! I didn't realize what my battery was on! D: (3:50pm)

Quinn: It's okay. (3:51pm)

Maddie: I'll let you know by the end of the week what my schedule looks like.

I'm already a day behind so I've a lot of catching up to do! :/

Where do you want to go for dinner? ;) (3:55pm)

Quinn: No rush. It sounds like a lot.

How do you feel about sushi? (3:58pm)

Maddie: It's my favourite! :D 🩷🩷🩷(4:05pm)

Quinn: Mine, too.

I'll make it up to you, I promise. (4:09pm)

Maddie: Nothing to make up for, Quinn. <3 Promise.

Take it easy, okay? (4:12pm)

Quinn: Okay, I'll try.

Have a good evening. (4:19pm)

I really worked hard on this daydream; days of brainstorming and note making. I hope at least one of you enjoys it. c: I can't guarantee a consistent posting schedule but I will do my best to get a couple out each month, as they tend to be a little on the longer side.

If you have any requests for stand-alone blurbs, please don't hesitate to reach out in my Asks.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey fanfiction #quinn hughes x oc #nhl fanfiction #nhl x oc #quinn hughes fluff

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floatyflowers · 2 years ago

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Sister Complex| Yandere! Oshi No Ko various x reader| Chapter 3

Chapter 2

It has been four years since you got reborn as Ai's daughter.

And let us just say that life is going smoothly and easily for you.

You have a loving mother and siblings.

Well, Aqua and Ruby are kind of overprotective of you.

To the point where they chased away all of your kindergarten friends.

So, you can only be around them.

Surprisingly, Ai herself encourages them to do so.

Unfortunately for you, your siblings were sick today, they have a stomach ache.

So, you had no one to play with at kindergarten.

You were all alone.

Right now, you are waiting for your mother to come and pick you up as she promised.

But today, she is late.

Which is strange, because she always arrives on time or even early.

But, you don't mind waiting for her.

While waiting outside, you watch the kids walk home with their parents while you stand alone, looking down at your shoes.

This feels uneasy, having to wait for someone to come and pick you up.

While waiting, you don't notice someone approaching you until you feel their appearance beside you.

You turn to look at the person beside you, however when your eyes land on the familiar face.

Your heart drops to your stomach.

"Hello"

Hikaru Kamiki greets you with a smile, his eyes staring down at you, his star pupils sending shivers down your body.

"Mama told me not to talk to strangers" you stutter out in fear, clutching tightly into your backpack.

"But, I'm not a stranger, now, am I?"

Your eyes widen at his words, thinking that he knows about your reincarnation.

But, that's impossible.

"You are a stranger, I don't know who you are, sir," you say, looking ahead of you instead of him.

Hikaru chuckles and pats your head.

"You are a very intelligent child, you remind me of a dear friend of mine"

Back you could say anything, he walks away from you, leaving you in confusion.

Then you hear the familiar voice of Ai, calling for you

"I'm here now, sorry for being late!"

✨🎭✨

The next day, you stay at home, doing nothing but watching TV.

However, you didn't expect to watch your mother get attacked by the same stalker that killed you.

And when you tried to protect her, you get hit on the head sharply.

The hit was enough to make you lose consciousness.

However, the last thing you saw, is the lifeless eyes of your mother staring at you with a smile on her face.

You wake up two days later to find yourself surrounded by your siblings...

...not remember anything about your past life.

Chapter 4

Tags: @thigh-o-saur @yevenle @amanda-akedia @rxsesss @storylaa @josuke8 @bloobewy @bre99 @pokermonaora @bajifairyy @mei-eishi @aranachan @kat-kaps

#tw: toxic relationships #platonic yandere #yandere oshi no ko #aquamarine hoshino #ruby hoshino #Aquamarine Hoshino x reader #ai hoshina #Ruby Hoshino x reader #hikaru kamiki #Hikaru Kamiki x reader #reader insert #daughter reader

1K notes · View notes

nisuna · 9 months ago

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Hi hello everyone<3 I'm so sorry for disappearing for a whole two months 🥲 Some of you may have seen the post about me breaking my tail bone ha ha..

I was just feeling so deflated and uninspired... HOWEVER, the love for my cult!leader!Geto x non!sorcerer!f!reader AU won after all!!! I just have to release everything I have planned for this timeline, ehe it's so precious to me🫶🏻

I have been reading A LOT of manhwas recently, and yesterday's chapter just made me want to write again, yaaayy

So I present to you part two of the smut adventures of cult leader geto 🥰 Hope you enjoy!!

Check out the cult leader headcannons here!<3 and Part 1 here

TW: public sex, soft geto????, calling him by his first name:))), different positions, biting, unprotected sex; he still calls you pet, of course; voyeurism, 1k words

<3masterlist<3

Cult leader Geto just couldn't get enough of you. Once he got a taste, he would continue fucking you all throughout the whole day. So it was just one of those days. Having everyone watch you whimper and squirm in pleasure just spurred his excitement on impossibly more. He never considered voyeurism to be his thing, but you have opened his eyes to many new things. Most importantly, you didn't even realise how strong of a grip you actually had on him.

There was nothing unusual about today's session in front of everyone. You looked and sounded breathtaking while laying beneaty him, exposed for everyone to see while panting his name. The first time he fucked you in front of everyone you were beyond embarassed. You kept hiding and looking for reassurance that never came. But now you were letting it all out. All shame was thrown out of the window, instead replaced by pure lust. You were getting off on being watched.

"Mhhh~~ Geto-sama!!", you kept screaming while he pounded away at your sopping wet cunt.

Everyone called him Geto-sama. Hearing you moan it was nothing out of the ordinary. However, today, that name just wasn't doing it for him. But he pushed those thoughts away as swiftly as they appeared and continued with his ministrations.

Later that day you were still helplessly sobbing that darn "Geto-sama" you have been doing while getting fucked in front of his followers.

Weirdly enough, he was actually getting sick of it. Hearing his title slip through your kiss-swollen lips reminded him of all of his followers. It was getting distracting at this point, so he swiftly picked you up and sat you back down on his lap.

As he was bottoming out, another trembling chant of his name made its way out of your mouth.

"AH- Geto-sama" you mumbled, back arching and nails digging into his firm back.

"Enough of that, pet!", he he raised his voice in annoyance while squeezing your cheeks between his long fingers. You were definitely caught off guard, shrieking in fear. "Did-I do anyfing -rong?? 'Msory Geto-sa- ow", you slurred, eyes trembling with fear but couldn't finish as his grip on your jaw only tightened. He was starting to hurt you, but you were too scared to resist.

He kept a fist-full of your face while pulling your face in front of his. He kept you in his grasp for what felt like forever burning holes into you with his sharp eyes. You stayed silent throughout.

After minutes of silence, he finally let go of you. You could feel the burning sensation his fingerprints left on your face but didn't dare to move despite the pain. You've learned the hard way to never pull away from him.

"Try Suguru.", he said monotonously, but you swore you saw the corners of his mouth twitch up in amusement for a split second.

You looked at him with a confused stare, mumbling "Sugu-", before you could finish, you slapped a hand over your mouth with a loud gasp. That was his first name. "Geto-sama, I couldn't possibly, that's too -"

Your distressed voice did arouse him, but it also made him want to soothe your worried expression. Another eye-opening experience he's never had with his followers before meeting you, compassion. He didn't dwell on it for long, though, and just interrupted.

"Do it for me. I wish to hear you say it.", his voice sounded awfully soft and genuine all of a sudden. Like he was desperately yearning for you to say it.

Has he gone mad? How could you call him by his first name? What would the others think? No. But before you could speak again, he added, "But only in the bedroom, this is between you and me only."

Between you and him only? Over the time you stayed with him, you did start feeling his demeanour soften around you. He was letting you see much more than anyone else. But you kept pushing these thoughts away. They were ridiculous, Geto-sama seeing you as something special? No way.

Yes way.

You hesitated. You swore to obey his every word. You couldn't just push his request aside. You mustered all the courage you had as he grabbed your hips in excitement.

"I-if you wish so, I will try. S-suguru..sama."

You didn't expect to see him grin as widely and toothy as he did in this exact moment.

"Atta girl, such a good pet you are. Good girls like you", he whispered, leaning in while nibbling up your neck. "deserve a reward. Now, on all fours."

-----

The next few times he fucked you in front of the others you actually had to concentrate on calling him Geto-sama. Oddly enough you grew accustomed to calling him Suguru during sex way to easily.

So one day, while your legs were thrown over his shoulders, kimono ripped open to expose your plush breasts, you almost slipped and fell.

You kept begging him to please slow down, but his tempo was relentless, stamina seemingly never ending during today's session. You tried getting used to it and calming down, but you just couldn't hold it in any longer at one point.

"Mhh.. Sugu~~", you moaned out before you could comprehend what you have just done. You just dumbly pressed your soft tits against his firm chest.

You froze as his hips came to a halt completely. He was staring at you with wide eyes. Oh you're fucked. But to your surprise a punishment didn't follow, instead he leaned down and whispered.

"If you can't control your words, you can bite my shoulder to calm down. Here.", he whispered gently.

You were definitely going to take him up on that offer when he was being so kind right now.

You gave him a nod, opening your mouth. He smiled before sensually rocking his hips into yours. He was as gentle as the night you shared your first kiss.

The reassurance you had been looking for finally came in the form of his soft gaze. You felt at ease, but when you finally bit down, you almost screamed at his growl and how he picked up his speed. The soothing rhythm from before was long forgotten. With the way his cock was bullying itself inside your gummy walls so aggressively, calming down wasn't an option. Seems like his plan backfired. The bite was making him lose his mind.

Oh well, better keep biting that shoulder, girl, or you won't be able to stop yourself from screaming his (first) name. ;)

-----

Hope to see you very soon with more stuff!!<3 Stay tuned and thank you for all of the support even while I was gone🙆🏻‍♀️ Confession or mirror sex next??? or maybe first time ehe lmk what I should cook 😈

#jjk smut #jjk geto smut #geto smut #geto x reader #suguru x reader #suguru smut #jjk x reader #jjk headcanons #jjk drabbles #takes with nini♡#jjk fanfic #nini's takes♡#jujutsu kaisen smut #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto smut

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pissclump · 2 months ago

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This Is Gonna Get Worse Before It Gets Better

Chapter 2

Sorry if this chapter seems kinda rushed, I wrote it at 2 A.M. LOL Anyways, I hope you enjoy! I'll try to update again soon.

"There were three of them? And what exactly did they look like?"

"Well, uh... I didn't really get a look at their faces. They were all hidden."

God, how you wanted this to be over already. The stress from last night's events was becoming almost unbearable, and having to retell the whole story at your local police station definitely didn't help.

"Covered? So you didn't see them at all?"

You sighed and shook your head. "No. The one who tackled me... He had on a white mask. The lips and eye sockets were painted black. Kinda looked like some creepy porcelain doll."

"And the others?"

"One of them had on these giant goggles with orange lenses. And his mouth was covered by some kind of mask thingy. And the last one... I only saw him for a split second before they all left. But he had on a black ski mask with a red frown on the face of it."

The officer in front of you jotted down all of your words onto the small notepad in his hands. "Your case is certainly strange. And you can't think of anyone you know who could have reasons to pursue you?"

"No. Not at all. According to the white-masked freak, I wasn't even their original target."

This caught the man's attention. He looked up from his notepad and made eye contact with you, a quizzical expression on his face. "Is that so? Then what made them attack you?"

"I guess they thought I was someone else. White-masked freak said that I've 'seen too much.' That's when he attacked me."

He turned his attention back to his notepad, jotting down a few last words as you spoke. He slipped the notepad into his pocket before clearing his throat. "Thank you for your time, Miss (L/N). We'll contact you upon any updates. If you see any of these men again, you know who to call."

You hurriedly made your way out of the police station. The memories of your attackers replayed through your head almost constantly. The lack of sleep was starting to catch up to you, but you were too afraid to let your guard down long enough to rest. Who were they? If you weren't their 'target,' then who was? What was their motive? Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your ringtone and a soft buzzing coming from your pocket. You reached into your pocket to retrieve your phone to see that you were being called by... Kimberly's mother? You accepted the call and lifted your phone to your ear.

"Hello? Mrs. Allman?"

"(Y/N)! It's been a while, dear. How are things holding up?"

Something was off about the way she spoke. She sounded slightly panicked and her words were shaky. Maybe now wasn't the time to talk about how things had 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 been holding up.

"Oh, um, things have been going decent. Is everything okay?"

"I was actually wondering if you've heard from Kim lately."

"Kim? She left for home yesterday morning... right?"

"Well, yes but..." She paused from a moment and took a deep breath. "She never showed up. She should have been here a long time ago. She won't answer my calls and texts, and I'm just worried sick, (Y/N). So, I'm guessing you know nothing concerning her whereabouts?" Her voice began to crack as if she was on the verge of crying.

You were speechless for the next few seconds, worry making it's way into your body like some deadly disease. Was Kimberly really missing? You didn't even think to call or text to check on her while she was on her way. What kind of friend were you? What if she was in trouble? What if she was hurt? "No, I'm... I'm so sorry, Mrs. Allman. I don't know anything. I'll try my best to get in contact with her."

Hanging up the phone, you began to breathe heavily. Where could she have gone? Was it too soon to report her as a missing person. No, surely Mrs. Allman would take care of that. You stared at the screen of your phones and dialed Kimberly's number with shaky hands only for it to only go straight to her voicemail. You then shot her a few texts, praying to get at least some sort of response. You buried your phone back into your pocket before making your way to your car. As if you weren't already stressed enough, now your best friend was missing. You gripped the steering wheel as tightly as you could, holding back a sob. Twisting the keys in the ignition, you suddenly froze in place as you felt something cold and metallic pressed against the side of your face.

"Drive."

You didn't even have to look to see who was holding a gun to your head. You saw the familiar yellow from the corner of your eye and tried as hard as you could to keep yourself from hyperventilating. Your thoughts were jumbled and you couldn't get your body to move at all. The metal was pressed further into your face as he repeated himself.

"Can you not hear me? I said drive."

You hesitantly pressed your foot against the gas pedal and made your out of the police station's parking lot. It was hard to focus on traffic in your current situation. Your mind was becoming more and more foggy by the second.

"Go home. The others are waiting for you. We have some talking to do."

What. Those fuckers were 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 for you? Your nerves were already a wreck. The LAST thing you needed was to be face to face with the men who had tried to kill you just last night. You survived them once just out of pure luck. Surely you could pull it off again, right? You didn't say another word and obeyed his demand. It wasn't a long drive back home, but being held at gunpoint the entire time made it feel like hours. He didn't yield his weapon until the car was in park. You reached to open the door, but his voice stopped you.

"Wait."

He scanned the area and you assumed he was looking for other people. It made sense considering it was the middle of the day. What kind of serial killer would be careless enough to let themself be seen in broad daylight? He gave you a nod, signaling that the coast was clear and exited the vehicle. You followed after him and led him up the stairs to your apartment. You were barely able to make it up the staircase due to how shaky your legs were. Your trembling hands fumbled with your keyring, searching for the door key.

"It's already unlocked. Go in."

How do these psychos keep unlocking your door? You twisted the doorknob and made your way inside, the hooded man just inches behind you. Sitting on your couch were the other two men that you feared with everything in you. The goggled man, or "Rogers," as you had heard his comrade call him, was the first to speak.

"H-hey, princess! I told you I'd buh-be seeing you again s-s-soon! Don't mind M-Masky, he's still pissy about being drenched in m-milk!" As he spoke, his head twitched to the side a few times, his neck making a stomach-churning 'crack' sound.

The other man, "Masky," wouldn't even look in your direction. Wow, he really is pissy. The hooded man made his way over to the couch, taking a seat between the other two.

"Sit down. We have questions for you, and it would be in your best interest to comply."

His threatening tone only intensified the feeling of dread in your stomach. It almost made you sick. You hesitated, but decided to listen, clinging onto the hope that maybe, just 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦, you could get out of this alive. You sat down on the recliner across from the couch. You wanted to keep as much distance from them as you could. You stared at the ground, fidgeting with your hands. Your mind was spinning in circles and it took everything in you to not just bolt out the door and never look back.

"First of all..." The man in the yellow hoodie began to speak and unfolded a small piece of paper. "Do you know who this is?"

You extended your arm to grab the paper from him and stared at it. Staring back at you were those familiar hazel eyes you had grown to love so much.

"Kim... She's my best friend, of course I know her." You were tempted to lie, but your life depended on giving these guys the information they wanted. And they made sure you knew that. The man in the white mask was the next to speak, his voice cold and stern.

"Where is she?"

"I don't know. Honestly, I don't." Your voice began to tremble.

"Bullshit!" He stood up from his seat and towered over you.

"I'm serious! I DON'T KNOW! She was supposed to be staying with her parents for the weekend, but she never showed up. She won't answer my calls or texts. I have no clue where she is."

Rogers let out that same eerie giggle that's been haunting you since your first encounter with him.

"Sounds like she's trying to h-hide from us!"

Your mind was racing with questions. Why were they asking you about Kimberly? What did they want with her? Was 𝘴𝘩𝘦 the target they had mistaken you for? You were pulled out of your thoughts as the hooded man began to speak again.

"You live with her, correct? When was the last time you saw her?"

"I live with her, yes. I haven't seen her since yesterday morning. That's when she left."

Masky sat back down, seeming to have calmed down a little. "She knows we're onto her. There's no other reason she'd just disappear like that."

His words confirmed your suspicions. Kimberly was definitely the person they intended to kill that night. But why? Why HER of all people? Your fear was soon replaced with anger. You shook your head and stood up from your seat.

"Kim? You're targeting Kimberly Allman of all people? WHY?! She's never been anything but good to everyone around her! What reason would ANYONE possibly have for wanting her dead! You're all fucking sick!"

Masky stood up once again, his face just inches from yours. "Watch your fucking mouth, whore! WE'RE the ones who get to ask questions, not you!"

"Are you serious?! First you break into my apartment and try to fucking KILL me, now you're telling I don't get to ask questions when I find out that YOU WANT MY BEST FRIEND DEAD?! You're all idiots if you think I'm gonna let you get anywhere near her!"

Your screaming match was interrupted by the hooded man. "Calm down. Both of you. (Y/N), there are things you don't know about Kimberly. I can go ahead and tell you that she is definitely 𝘯𝘰𝘵 your friend."

How did he know your name? Scratch that, you probably won't like the answer to that.

"What? What are you talking about? Of course she's my friend!"

"She r-really is clueless. It's kinda c-cute!"

You really couldn't handle all of this right now. You were so worn out both physically and mentally. Your head was starting to hurt from both the stress and the never-ending questions that plagued your mind.

"I don't understand... What the hell are you talking about?"

Masky scoffed. "Are you slow? Kimberly is planning to kill you. Has been for a while now."

It took you a moment to process the words that came out of his mouth. "No. You're lying. You're a fucking liar! YOU'RE ALL LIARS! She wouldn't... no, she would never. Kim would never even dream of hurting anyone, let alone her best friend."

"She's a great pretender, I'll give her that. But you're being naive. She's trying to get as close to you as possible to make getting rid of you easier."

"I think sh-she's in denial! It's okay p-princess, as long as you're useful to us, w-we wont luh-let her get to ya!"

You were still hesitant and debated if you should even believe what the men were telling you. "I just don't get it. Why? Why would she want to hurt me?"

"We c-can't tell ya that much. But as of right n-n-now, she's still our main target."

You finally snapped, no longer able to hold yourself together anymore. You buried your face in your hands and began to sob. You tried to speak, but nothing came out but pathetic cries.

The hooded man stood up suddenly. "Masky. Let's go. I think that's all we're gonna be able to get out of her for the time being. Rogers, keep an eye on her for tonight. Give her some space for a while. She's got a lot of processing to do."

With that, he took his leave, Masky following behind him. You were left alone with Rogers, but you weren't able to focus on his presence due to the intense mental strain you were currently experiencing. You hoped with everything in you that he wouldn't actually be there for the rest of the night. But you weren't that lucky today.

#ticci toby smut #ticci toby x reader #creepypasta #ticci toby #tobias erin rogers #toby rogers #masky marble hornets #tim masky #hoodie #hoody marble hornets #marble hornets #creepypasta x reader

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icarusflewsworld · 15 days ago

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Rhysand & Cassian & Azriel X OC

Hello, here is the chapter 25 of a fanfiction on the world of Acotar where our three favorite Batboys are the mates of a single woman.

I'm really sorry for the delay. I was sick and I have to revise for exams in February and March, so there will only be one chapter (maybe two since I have no self control and I always write too much) on Sunday January 26th.

I really hope you liked these chapters! Don't hesitate to leave comments even bad ones (not mean please), it allows me to know what's wrong and to improve especially on the sex scenes because I feel like I'm really too bad at that. I had a lot a lot a lot of trouble writing this last chapter lol.

In any case thank you for your reading, your time, your votes and especially your comments. You are all so kind and I am so shocked every time but it makes me so so happy. Love you. Have a wonderful week end and good luck for all you have to go through. ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

! Don't forget to read the previous and following chapters ! : Here

Chapter 25

Mor had teleported their soulmate to the Town House after Rhysand had asked her to and after Luxiana had -despite the three Illyrians- spent the night at Amren's.

Rhys' cousin threw a reassuring and encouraging smile at Luxiana as she saw the three Illyrians waiting for the blondes with a serious look in the middle of the living room before leaving.

Luxiana suddenly felt very small and intimidated in front of them and she had a hard time hiding it. She didn't know exactly why -although she had, in fact, a little idea- they had this power over her but she always had the impression that their opinion and what they thought of her mattered a lot.

She slowly sat down on the couch in front of them, feeling like a little girl who was about to be scolded. But Rhysand frowned as he watched his soulmate. He gave his brothers a worried and slightly confused look who returned it. Their soulmate had huge dark circles under her eyes, she was pale, trembling and her gaze was tired.

Rhysand stared into his soulmate's intimidated eyes. Noticing her discomfort, he sat down on the couch behind him to look less threatening. "Luxi, are you okay?"

Something sparkled in Luxiana's eyes and in her chest. He had just called her Luxi. She wanted to jump around screaming and she would have if every muscle in her body didn't hurt like hell. "I like it when you call me that," she could only answer, blushing.

“Noted,” the lord chuckled softly, finding her adorable, “but that doesn’t answer my question.”

Cassian grimaced. He had never seen his soulmate look so bad. She looked sick. A ball of anxiety squeezed her stomach. "Yeah, because you look like you just ran under a herd of horses."

Luxiana let out a tired chuckle. "Great, that's good to know."

Azriel was looking at her insistently to encourage her to continue and answer Rhysand's question but Luxiana only looked at him with an innocent smile while blinking abusively. The spymaster refrained from rolling his eyes in exasperation. "Answer the question, princess."

Luxiana opened her eyes wide for a second before slapping her palms on her face as she made her legs go in the air in front of her. She squealed in joy before placing her hands on her knees to stare at Azriel with blushes. "I like it even more when you call me that, finally."

Rhysand and Cassian smiled fondly, but Azriel didn't. He narrowed his eyes, tilting his head. "Why are you avoiding the question?"

Luxiana regained a sort of seriousness to smile slyly, her gaze suddenly filled with play. "Why not?"

Cassian huffed but still couldn't hold back his smile. "Because we care about you and we'd like to know what's wrong."

Luxiana tried not to look as impacted by his words as she felt as her heart pounded in her chest. Did that mean he liked her? "Why?" she asked with that same defiant, haughty air.

Rhysand returned his expression. "Why not?"

Luxiana bit her tongue and rolled her eyes. He had turned his game against her. She sighed. "I just had a bad night, that's all."

The three brothers glanced at each other. They too had had a bad night. And though it was partly because they had been thinking about Velaris' attack and Luxiana : what she had done, how she had fought and where she was, but they hadn't managed to sleep also because of something else. Because of their muscles which had been aching strangely for hours like they had some kind of huge pain or like... like one of them was in agony and letting them know through their bond.

Azriel crossed his arms, looking concerned. "Why? What happened?"

Luxiana crossed her arms in turn as she let herself fall onto the back of the couch. "You do ask a lot of questions today."

"And you're quite mysterious all of a sudden," Rhysand noted warily. She hid a lot of things from them far too easily. He hated it.

“I’ve always been mysterious,” Luxiana assured, raising an eyebrow.

Cassian chuckled as he sat on the arm of Rhysand's couch behind him. "Yeah, she's not wrong."

“Luxiana,” Rhysand insisted, his voice commanding this time. His brows were furrowed and his expression serious. “You owe us an explanation.”

The blonde shivered at his tone and the half truth she was about to have to confess.

"How did you do everything you did yesterday?" Azriel asked in a cold, distinctive voice. The voice he used when he was questioning someone. His eyes narrowed suspiciously as he examined his soulmate. "You used professional fighting techniques, and don't tell me your boss taught you how to defend yourself because what you did wasn't for a defensive purpose."

"You're used to fighting," Cassian added, not even believing what he was saying but thinking about it all night, it was the only conclusion he had come to. He had replayed the scene in his head a million times trying to understand and process it. "And I don't think it was working in a bar that taught you how to do that."

Luxiana pursed her lips as she searched for words. She brushed a strand of hair from her undone braid behind her ear, “... Well, actually, I do work at a bar…”

Azriel gritted his teeth. A wave of anger washed over him. She was lying to him. His soulmate had lied to him, continues to lie to him and will still lie to him. How could she lie to him without him knowing? He had already detected some of those lies, so why not all of them? "It can't be. A waitress doesn't need to know how to fight that well."

Luxiana smiled mischievously. "I never said I was a waitress, you thought that yourself. I just said I worked in a bar."

Rhysand could start to feel the irritation building in his chest. She was playing them. She was their soulmate but she was mocking them. “So you’ve been letting us believe something that’s not true this whole time,” he spat coldly as he became the High Lord of the Night. This whole time, she had been intentionally lying to them. He couldn’t trust her. His jaw was clenched. “So, I’ll only ask you this once, what are you doing in a bar if you’re not a barmaid and how and why did you learn to fight that way?”

A silence settled, weighing on their shoulders. Silence during which Luxiana detailed the three Illyrians in front of her with guilt and hesitation. Was she going to confess one of her secrets to them? She pursed her lips, making her dimples stand out, and although she had her gaze lowered because of the piercing eyes of the three fixed on her, they felt faint despite their anger. Her dimples were their end.

Luxiana thought. She weighed the pros and cons. Her reason told her not to trust them but her heart really liked them. And then, after all, he had only asked her to say what she did for work, not what she was, and so, what she was going to say was not really a secret anyway. If they dug a little, they could very well have learned it by themselves. Especially since some other high lords knew her very well. And maybe, depending on the reaction of the three Illyrians, she could really start to trust them, and so, one day maybe, she will tell them more. "I am a mercenary," she blurted out suddenly with a shrug.

Time froze for a second around the three faes, giving the impression that their entire bodies had stopped working for a moment. Then Cassian burst out laughing. But, after a few moments, he instantly calmed down when he saw the serious look on his mate’s face. "Wait, you're not serious, right?"

"I am," Luxiana insisted. "The bar I work at is just a cover. The people come to us with... mission orders in exchange for payment and we carry them out"

The three Illyrians were turning white from head to toe. Azriel, standing next to his two brothers, had to take a step back as he felt the muscles in his legs give out for a second.

“When I was telling you about leaving my parents,” Luxiana continued, her expression still serious. She was so anxious about how they would react. She didn’t want them to hate her. “I told you I went to Kayden to get a job, and it was true. But Kay didn’t hire me as a waitress, he hired me as a spy. He trained me to be a spy first. I was a cute, quiet little girl, no one really cared about me.”

The three Illyrians widened their eyes a little more as they realized that she really wasn't joking.

“But I quickly got bored,” Luxiana added, shrugging again. “So I started asking to do bigger and bigger missions. Kayden then taught me how to steal, and I don’t want to pat myself on the back, but I quickly became one of the best thieves in the country.”

Cassian's eyelids gradually widened even more. Rhysand put his hand over his mouth, not believing what he was hearing. And Azriel was holding himself back from reacting as a whirlwind of different emotions worried him.

Luxiana looked down for a second, grimacing, "But... Kayden... I wanted to please him so much, I wanted him to be proud of me so much, I wanted him to not regret hiring me, and taking care of me so much that I started taking more and more dangerous missions. Although Kay didn't want it, because he was afraid I would get hurt, he still ended up accepting and training me." Luxiana smiled at the memories. "I had to say that I know how to be convincing. And then, he knows that I am stubborn and that I would have put myself in danger by taking a risky mission anyway and that he had every interest in teaching me how to fight."

An unpleasant aftertaste of jealousy settled at the back of the three Illyrians' tongues as they heard how much their soulmate cared for her boss and how much she wanted to make him proud. Her relationship with him was therefore not just professional. Azriel's nostrils flared and his fists clenched.

Cassian barely realized. He blinked a few times to try to process it. "So your boss taught you how to fight like that?"

Luxiana nodded. “Partly. Kayden is gifted, strong, and intelligent,...”

Azriel rolled his eyes wildly.

“...but it wasn't enough. The fighting techniques he taught me weren't always adapted to my body, my weight, my strength, especially not against more muscular or larger enemies. So I went looking for books and people who could teach me how to fight like no one else according to my morphology. And I was really motivated. I wanted so much for Kayden to be proud of me. I trained day and night until I couldn't even stand up anymore. And then at 16 years old, I was able to defeat any enemy."

Then Luxiana whitened suddenly, her gaze growing heavy with something like regret as she stared into the void right in front of her. "And I should have settled for that, but even that wasn't enough," she muttered weakly under her breath.

Then she looked up as she came back to her senses. She wasn't going to go into detail about that story today. Maybe never. She wasn't sure she could ever trust them to tell them about it.

The three Illyrians were less and less believing their ears. They looked at each other in shock. They had had a hard time accepting that night that their soulmate knew how to fight and that she had lied to them for a long time, but they were far from guessing she was a mercenary.

"Why didn't you tell us right away?" Rhysand asked in a distant voice.

Luxiana shakes her head, not really knowing that herself. "For several reasons, I think. I didn't know if I could trust you and it's easier to look weak, people don't get suspicious. And..."

She hesitated as she detailed them for a second to know if she would say more or not. But she wanted so much to be able to trust them. After all, it could be a test and allow Luxiana to analyze their reactions to one day be able to entrust them with more. "...And also because I didn't become just any simple mercenary."

Azriel narrowed his eyes, holding back his quickening breath as much as he could. "What do you mean?"

Luxiana stopped herself from looking down, feeling a little ashamed. This was the first time that someone other than Kayden's opinion had mattered so much to her. It was new. She tried to put on a proud look, the same one she adopted when she was perturbed. "I became one of the few mercenaries who was able to cross the wall and the only one who didn't refuse to do so."

The three Illyrians - if they were no longer- froze as they opened their eyes wide.

"When that became known," Luxiana smiled, "Kayden was able to accept missions in exchange for exorbitant compensation. People who were willing to give anything for me to go and retrieve their loved ones kidnapped by fae, to go and steal and bring back contraband or even to..." She paused, taking a deep breath. "...murder and get revenge on some fae. I..."

She looked up at the three of them with fear, but she wasn't afraid of them, she was afraid of their reactions. She was afraid that they wouldn't like her anymore after this. "I'm not a nice person, you know? I've murdered a lot of people, fae and humans. But never innocents!" she tried to justify herself as if it made a difference.

The three Illyrians were in even more shock. This little smiling and sunny woman was a murderer? She had killed people? They had such a hard time believing it. But it explained what she had done yesterday.

Rhysand tried to calm down and think but all he could think about was how bad he was. His soulmate had to become an assassin to please a man who had taken advantage of her when she was just a child because he hadn't been able to find her before and bring her to safety. He thought about how Luxiana must have felt the first time after taking someone's life. She must have felt so bad. A cloud of guilt flooded his chest uncomfortably and it was so strong that he knew his brothers thought and felt the same way.

“So that’s how you were able to get out of your cell yesterday?” Azriel asked, trying to distract him from his guilt-ridden chest. “How did you escape my shadows without them telling me?”

Luxiana grimaced. "Sort of. I've learned to deflect a lot of magic through my missions but…," she hesitated, "let's just say I have other special talents that helped me a lot yesterday."

"Like which ones?" Azriel asked dryly. His voice was hissing despite himself because of the anger he felt. Although he was a little pissed off by his soulmate's lies, he was essentially furious with him. He was the best spy in this damned country and he had never found his soulmate in time. None of his shadows had told him about her. None of his shadows who had always helped and supported him had told him to go save his soulmate.

Luxiana smiled weakly. "That's a secret for next time."

Cassian closed his eyes slowly and left them closed for a long second in surprise. "Because besides that one, you have other secrets??"

Luxiana snickered, openly mocking them. "There are many others, yes, and me being an assassin isn't even the worst of them."

Rhysand raised his eyebrows before blowing out all his air. He ran his hands over his face, rubbing it vigorously. His soulmate had lied to him and continued to hide things from him. It hurt his heart. He wished he knew everything about her. He wished she felt confident enough with him to tell him everything.

Cassian was out of his body. He couldn't quite comprehend what his soulmate had just confessed. "So you're a mercenary?" he managed to say.

Luxiana swallowed hard. She didn't like this feeling in her chest that made her fear the reaction of the three Illyrians. Why did she even care so much? "I am." Then, in the hope of lightening the mood, she began to look them up and down with a playful air and a smirk. "And I'm the best. Besides, I'm sure I could take all three of you in a fight…," her smile turned perverse. "And not just in a fight either."

Cassian suddenly came back to himself. He threw a surprised look at Rhysand who returned it. Then he closed his eyes slowly to return them to his soulmate with a smirk. "Is this a proposal?"

"Yes!" she answered simply with a seductive air.

Azriel had to sit next to Rhys on the couch, no longer able to stand on his legs because of the mixture of emotions that made him palpitate and anxious. He placed his fingers on his temples and began to massage them as his skull began to hurt too much.

He interrupted the burning gaze his soulmate and brother were giving each other by raising his hand to Luxiana. "Do you realize how dangerous this job is?" He could feel his stomach tighten as he stressed his brothers out with him. His soulmate could have died, or worse, been tortured, because of one of those missions. He could have never met her. And he could never have taken it. He could never have taken the knowledge that she had been tortured and that he hadn't been there to save her.

Luxiana shrugged insolently and innocently, making Azriel grit his teeth. A burst of anger burned his body as if an iceberg had hit him. "Your life is important, Luxiana, damn it. You can't put your life in danger like that, just because you wanted to please the first bastard who used you when you were just a child!"

The Illyrian with the blue siphons closed his eyes, instantly regretting his crude words and even more so when Luxiana leaned on the couch to propel herself and jump to her feet.

She quickly approached the spymaster, glaring at him, anger boiling in her chest, even clenching her heart in pain. How dare he? "That man saved my life in so many ways! Don't even talk about him like that!"

Azriel stood up abruptly in turn to grab Luxiana's chin and clamp his fingers into her cheeks. He was mad with rage. No, mad with jealousy. He hated the way HIS soulmate spoke of this man. The way HIS soulmate wanted to make another man proud and that she idealized him so much when he was evil. When he had taken advantage of a lost little girl. When he must have saved her instead. When she was his and he was dying for her to speak of him like that.

Rhysand stood up in turn to put his hand on Azriel's shoulder and communicate with him through thought. "I know what that bastard did but he still saved our soulmate and taught her how to fight."

Cassian groaned but didn't move from the couch to answer them in his head. "He made her a mercenary, or at least a spy. He intentionally put her in danger."

Rhysand huffed, glaring at Cassian who wasn't helping him. "Worse things could have happened to Luxiana if she would have been alone. Nothing happened to her and that's what matters. And maybe it's partly thanks to that man so we should be at least a little grateful. And anyway, she idealizes him."

Azriel glared at his brother with his brown pupils, almost shouting back in their heads. “He used a little girl to enrich himself instead of keeping her safe!”

Rhysand stared back at him, warning him with his high lord aura not to go any further. He was just as mad with rage at this man. By the cauldron, he was going to find him. "I agree with you but she doesn't see it that way. And she's not ready for this discussion. So let her go. Anyway, she has no contact with him now." Then out loud, so that their long silence wouldn't seem strange to their soul mate, he added: "She's not a mercenary anymore today." And he continued in their heads: "She's with us now. Don't ruin everything."

Azriel took a deep breath. She was with them today and he wouldn't let her near that bastard anymore. He stared at his soulmate and then suddenly felt calm. Luxiana's face was furrowed with anger. Azriel smiled tenderly. She was so cute like that. She was so cute with her face in his hand. She was so cute when she was almost his. She was more important than his anger or his jealousy. "Sorry, princess, I should never have said that," he breathed. Then he leaned forward to place a light kiss on her nose before releasing her.

Luxiana's anger suddenly disappeared, replaced by surprise as she opened her eyes a little wider, blushing. "Uh, I..." she stuttered, searching for words. Had he really just apologized? It was cute. "Uh, it's nothing." Luxiana walked away from him, lowering her head, still confused.

Rhysand released his brother to sigh. They needed time to think about all this and process it. Then he turned to Luxiana but he noticed her dark circles again a little more being so close to her. "So why didn't you sleep badly last night?"

Luxiana shrugged. "We've talked too much with Amren." She refrained from glancing at Azriel to see if he'd detected her half-truth.

Cassian raised his eyebrows. "Amren had talked to you all night?"

Luxiana chuckled. "Okay, I was basically just talking to myself and hoping Amren would respond."

The three Illyrians were huffing a laugh. Then Rhysand suddenly looked serious again. "We..." he hesitated. "We have to go, wait for us here." Then he turned to his brothers to give them a doubtful glance but he remembered that their soulmate had just confessed to them that she was a spy, a mercenary and an assassin. He didn't really have to be too gentle with her anymore. He smiled a little at the thought. "We have to go question the Attor, maybe he'll finally decide to talk today and tell us how creatures like him were able to find and enter Velaris."

Cassian nodded as he stood up and they started to leave together, leaving the blonde there. But Luxiana stopped Rhysand by holding him by the arm with a confused and thoughtful look. "The Attor? The creature that attacked Feyre the first time you came to the Archerons’?"

Rhysand nodded heavily.

“He resists Azriel’s tortures and has a mental shield far too powerful for Rhys to break through,” Cassian explained, his voice serious and so unusual for him that it made Luxiana shiver.

Azriel contracted completely.

The blonde tilted her head, frowning. She turned to Azriel with a pleasantly surprised smile. "You're the torturer of this court?"

The Illyrian gritted his teeth as something squeezed his stomach even more. He understood that his soulmate was not as kind and gentle as his physique suggested, but he still didn't like that she had the vision of him as a cruel being. A torturer. She may have murdered people but not innocent people and there was a big difference between killing and torturing. He didn't want her to see him like that. To know who he really was, how dirty and how much he didn't deserve her.

“We don’t have that kind of stuff here,” Rhysand corrected, sensing Azriel’s discomfort. “But it’s his job to gather information.”

"Hmm," she mused, placing her index finger on her chin. "I'll come with you, then." She crossed her arms with furrowed brows and a serious expression as she waited for the three Illyrians—who were giving each other hesitant glances—to decide to move.

“No,” Azriel refused immediately. He didn’t want his soulmate to see him like this.

Rhysand doubted almost as much as his brother. "What you're going to see there is..."

Luxiana rolled her eyes and interrupted him, "I can well imagine what it's like yes. If you don't have an official torturer, I assume Azriel hasn't received any training on how exactly to torture someone properly." Then she smiled. A cold, creepy smile. "I just want to make sure he did a good job and that you'll get the information you need."

“Have you ever even seen a person being tortured?” Azriel asked through gritted teeth.

Luxiana's smile widened as something in her pupils glowed. "Not long actually,..." She leaned towards Azriel. "...because they always end up cracking quickly when I'm the one dealing with them."

The three Illyrians raised an eyebrow in a twin expression then Cassian burst out laughing. "I want to see that."

Azriel gritted his teeth, worried, but said nothing, wanting to believe her even though a weight was pressing on his chest.

"Very well," Rhysand confirmed in the same state. "Then come on." It was their soulmate after all.

#a court of thorns and roses #acomaf #acotar #acowar #azriel #cassian #rhysand #cassian x oc #rhysand x oc #high lord rhysand #azriel x oc #rhysand & cassian & azriel x oc

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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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#bts a/b/o #bts omegaverse au #bts ot7 #bts poly au #bts series #bts fic #bts fan fiction #bts yoongi #bts jungkook #bts hobi #bts namjoon #bts jimin #bts jin #bts taehyung #bts x reader #bts angst #lone wolf #sopebubbles 🧼#bts ot7 x reader

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dragon-kazansky · 10 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.

☆☆☆

@missdreamofendless

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@snowsatsu

@ladyofketterdam

@thoughtsfromlayla

@modest-irish-goddess

@mystic-mara

@dreamingblueberries

@littlemoistcarrot

@simpingdeadcharacters

@bluespecs14

@modest-irish-goddess

@theyluvmimi

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

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sunny374940 · 17 days ago

Text

I will be waiting with open arms pt.3

Hello and welcome back to my sadness corner (though this one seems to be the least sad of the three, but probably ready your tissues? Just in case). This (hopefully truly last) chapter centres on Emmrich waiting in the afterlife, just like he promised. (Start from part 1 here, if you want to)

Cw: character death, off screen

@mercars-musings, @redheadsramblings, @sorrowsfallallaround come be sad with me?

Here on ao3

And here are my other stories

“He kissed me for the first time right under this statue, you know?”

“Yes, dad, I know. You've told me a few times”

“Did I?”

The voices were laughing, though there seemed to be an undercurrent of sadness to them and Emmrich wondered idly who they were. He was lying on his back in soft grass, sunlight was warming his skin and he hadn't felt this good in a long time.

He stretched his arms and was surprised to discover that he could actually raise them all the way up, a feat that he had been unable to perform for quite a few years, ever since old age slowly started taking his mobility away. He sat up and stared at his hands. His wedding band was there, a constant presence for the past, hmm, thirty nine years. He had been hoping to celebrate their fortieth wedding anniversary, but alas…

Wait, what?

Oh, of course. He died.

“The Shroud's Kiss is blooming, should I pick some for you to take home?”

“No, bug, thank you. I'd rather come to admire them here. It will give me an excuse to visit him.”

“Aw, you're such a sap.”

“What can I say? Your daddy might have influenced me a little bit.”

He was studying his hands and they looked stronger than he remembered them being, less wrinkled. But the voices were niggling at him, so familiar, yet he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

“Let's get going, dad. Rupert and Manfred will need us.”

“You're right, we've moped long enough.”

“Goodbye, daddy.”

“Goodbye, Emmrich. We'll visit again soon.”

“Rook! Ellie!”

It was them! He could hear them! But they couldn't hear him, it seemed.

“I'm so mad at you! It's been a year and it doesn't get any easier. I hate you for leaving me here!”

Rook was crying and Emmrich felt unshed tears stinging at his eyes.

"I'm sorry, darling. I miss you too.”

He knew Rook didn't hear him, but it made him feel better to respond.

“Your letter started tearing at the edges, I've been reading it too much. Ellie got me a frame for it, so it wouldn't get destroyed. She's so kind, Emmrich, just like you.”

Their sweet Ellie. Emmrich missed her so much, missed all of them. He buried his face in his hands and allowed himself to cry.

“Did you know that Rupert and his husband wanted to elope? The little buggers! Can you imagine not seeing your only grandchild get married? But I gave them a piece of my mind and they agreed to have a small ceremony in our garden, just like we had. It was amazing, I wish you could have seen them.”

He could imagine not seeing his only grandchild get married, actually, and he laughed to himself, picturing Rook's indignant expression as he was relaying the news. He missed seeing him.

“Hi, grandpa. I got married, but I think grandad already told you. We’re adopting a little girl, but he doesn't know that yet, so keep it a secret, okay?”

“Don't you worry, dear boy, I won't spoil the surprise.”

Rook would be so excited! A great-grandchild! He envied him a tiny bit.

“I'm getting old, you know. I can't come by as often as I'd like. I'm sorry, love. But I think about you all the time and the memories help me keep going. I love you, Emmrich, I always will.”

“I love you too, darling,” he whispered, wiping at the tears falling from his eyes.

“Hi, daddy. Dad can't come anymore, he's too sick, but he sends his love. And lots of kisses. I- I miss you so much.”

She was sobbing and his heart was breaking for her.

“I love you, my darling girl.”

Time seemed to pass strangely and Emmrich wasn't sure how long he'd been here, but discovered through his family's visits that it had been about twelve years since he died. He wasn't entirely alone in this place, there were spirits coming through and the odd soul as well, but they were always moving on to somewhere else. But he told Rook that he would wait, and so he did.

Over time he learned to feel Rook's presence through the flows of the Fade, though he only ever heard him when he visited the Memorial Gardens. Lately, that comforting presence had been growing weaker and he was restless with anticipation. Would he finally get to see him? Would Rook recognize him? He seemed to have returned to the way he looked around the time of their wedding, not that he complained, but the last time Rook saw him his looks were markedly different.

He was pacing around anxiously, when there was a sound like the rustle of yellowing leaves on a very particular cherry tree. He turned towards it and there he was, sitting up, blinking in the soft sunlight and he looked so young and he was here, he was really here after all this time!

“Emmrich?”

And Emmrich couldn't move an inch, could only spread his arms out for him.

“I did tell you I would wait for you, darling.”

Rook came rushing at him, knocking him off his feet with a hug and they were laughing and kissing and finally they were together again. For good, this time.

#emmrook #emmrich volkarin #dragon age veilguard #emmrich x rook #veilguard #dragon age the veilguard #This was a wild ride #It just keeps going

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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 · 6 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 · 7 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.”

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