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extravaguk · 4 years ago

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sweets&ink

part of my opposites attract! series.

ksj / knj / myg / jhs / pjm / kth

pairing: tattooartist&tattoed!jungkook x baker!reader

summary: jungkook was everything you feared but exactly what you needed to heal your broken heart.

wordcount: 5k

genre: fluff - angst - smut (s2l!au)

rated: m (?

warnings: some cursing, mentions of past abusive/toxic relationships/trauma that might be triggering, a lil of making love at the end. it’s overall just suuper fluffy, trust me. jungkook is a s i m p. we love that for him! slow burrrnnnn.

Jungkook knows it was love at first sight, but doesn's know how to really explain it.

He knew from the moment he entered the small shop, pastel green walls welcoming him replete of sugary treats, a sweet and heavenly scent engulfing him as soon as he stepped a foot inside. With a new found sense of calmness and serenity within he hadn't experienced in a long time, he searched for deserts of his liking, mouth watering while assessing the many options of baked goods available and bright colored frostings stealing his attention.

"Hi. How may I help you?"

Then he looked up and found you. It wasn't easy to appreciate your whole appearence with the counter hiding the lower half of your body, but it was enough for Jungkook to think to himself that he had never seen a prettier girl in hiis entire life. And that's when he knew it. Any type of movement in his surroundings coming to a halt, his heart skipping a beat, his favourite song playing inside his head. And that particular sensation. The same one that had made him feel so at ease since he found your bakery. For a moment he thought his doe eyes might have actually turned into heart eyes until you raised your eyebrows, a concerned expression replacing your previous warm smile.

Blinking his eyes and clearing his throat, coming down from cloud nine into the real world, he stuttered his order as best as he coud manage, heart pounding inside his chest and later feeling mortified for not being able to pronounce "gingernap cookies" correctly.

At first he kind of hated Seokjin for blackmailing him into going to his favourite bakery to buy his favourite cookies (Jungkook really should've known better than accidentally spill ink all over Jin's new script), but when he comes back home with a goofy smile on his face and dreams of your face, he makes sure to text him he'll go get his cookies anytime he wants.

But Jungkook is a masochist apparently.

Because a week after your first encounter he realizes that not being able to get his mind off a girl he's literally only seen once in his entire life is not exactly normal. Not for anyone, but especially not for him. Realizes that the way he embarrassed himself in front of you and probably looked like a bluberring mess (or a creepy weirdo who had never interacted with any woman before) is not reason enough to not keep wanting to try again. And the way you just giggled at him and simply shook your head as you wrapped the ginger cookies he had asked for in a pretty packaging has kept him aching for more.

So he comes once a week now. Still as nervous as the first day, but content to see that your face seems to light up at the sight of him stepping through the door the same way his does. He likes to see you in your cute pastel dresses, and if he didn't know better he'd think you were just trying to keep up with the bakery's aesthetic. But the more he frequents your shop, the more he realizes you're exactly like the treats you bake. He likes how your vividly honeyed persona contrasts with his darker and reserved one. Likes how you're all colors of the rainbow and he's just a scale of greys.

They are small interactions. Just courtesy and cordial exchange of words everytime he visits. He doesn't even know your name and you don't even know his, but sometimes he asks how was your weekend and sometimes you ask how many people had he inked that week. Sometimes he tells you how pretty you look, and sometimes you blush in response. Sometimes you add an extra macaron in his order and sometimes he debates on whether or not he should write down his number on a napkin and slide in right on the countertop before he waves goodbye.

And although Jungkook has never been one to shy away from women, he feels a certain way he can't exactly pinpoint. A way that makes his confidence falter and leaves him feeling like a little kid who's afraid to confess to the girl he likes. Because as cliché as it sounds, you're not like any other girls he's ever met. You don't feel like any other girl he's ever met. Not the older than him, tattoed and pierced type of girl he's accustomed to; not the type of girl that's addicted to trouble and believe him (maybe even hoped) to be something he's not. So it takes a while for him to summon up enough bravery and determination. It takes weeks of pining and overthinking, and a single push from Yoongi ('stop being a fucking pussy and just do it') to ask you to have coffee with him.

"I... I'm sorry. I can't."

And it only takes those words leaving your mouth to shatter his heart into pieces.

It's fine though, he told you and himself. He wasn't going to be one of those guys who believed the 'friendzone' was an actual thing and tried his best to not make you feel uncomfortable, really tried his best to erase the guilt across your face as you rejected him. So he scratched the back of his head and mustered up a big smile before leaving the shop with a bag full of cupcakes and an unsettled stomach.

Letting out a deep breath you didn't even know you were containing, you observe as the handsome stranger exits the shop. Running a hand through your hair before gripping the counter with your hands, you try to steady the heavy throbbing insde your chest.

The boy in question had been unknowingly tormenting you and flooding your mind with thoughts of him for almost two months now. That day you first had spotted him eyeing the desserts in display in amazement and then you in the very same way. It was sudden and precipitated, but it had almost made your head spin, something you hadn't felt in a long time unexplainable tugging at your insides.

You had kept your cool as best as you could, as best as you had taught yourself in the past. Wrapped those cookies he had asked and then waved goodbye, hoping under your breath he wouldn't come back but silently wishind he would. But then he did. He came back once. And then again. And again, and before you realized he had become a frequent costumer. Trying whatever treats you'd recommended him, creating small talk, sending friendly smiles here and then.

You had learned to expect him at the very same time, the very same day of the week; had learned to manage the fluttering in your tummy and the reddish warmth spreading through your cheeks whenever the eye contact was prolongued. Everything was innocent, it was brief and, most importanly, it never went beyond, even if sometimes you hoped it did.

However, after all these years, there was still something you hadn't learned to control yet. And as he spoke, clearly nervous, hesitant and clearly out of his comfort zone, wondering out loud if he could ever treat you to a coffee sometime, your body shut down. The fondness and excitement you had been harboring over the last few weeks quickly replaced by that which made you want to recoil, made you want to back to your well to let its darkness and loneliness envelop you.

That horrible and ugly wave of crippling fear and axiety all mixed together; a little monster that you had successfully concealed, now displaying its ears in warning and the same smile that had been haunting you for years, now advising you, reminding you and most of all, threatening you, to go back to your own comfort zone. And so, powerless, there was nothing else you could really to but to comply, muttering an apology and a rejection that probably pained you more than it pained the boy in front of you.

You knew you did the right thing, but it definitely didn't feel like it.

Especially a week later, as you expected his arrival- as always, ready with a tray full of fresh baked scones you had particularly made just for him, but were left severely disappointed when time passed and he was nowhere to be seen. Or two weeks later, after spending an extra hour making cake pops that you had specifically designed with him in mind (covered in dark chocolate and white sprinkles), only to realize it was closing time and that he never even showed up.

To say you were bummed was an understatement. You knew you always looked forward to him coming in every week to grace your day with a smile and a polite talk, but you didn't come to terms with how much you would miss it until now. So three weeks later, you still bake with him in mind, trying not to lose hope but still chastising yourself for not being brave enough and accepting his offer. It was just a coffee date, for God's sake, not a marriage proposal! Trying to busy your mind with work and customers coming in and out, even if your eyes dart in anticipation everytime you hear the door swinging.

When hours pass and the sun hides to make room for the moon and stars into the sky, you look at the clock and, with a defeated sigh, finish cleaning and tidying around the shop. But before you can gather your things, the door swings open and there stands the stranger you had been praying to see again.

"Am I too late?" he asks, and you don't exactly know but can tell his words hold a double meaning. You smile, a genuine smile, because he looks bashful with a hand scratching the back of his head like he had done the last time you saw him, and because there's a warm sensation spreading through your chest, like your heart is smiling for you.

"I was about to close, but I can make an exception." you accomplish to say and surprisingly don't sound as nervous as you feel. He mirrors your smile as he walks closer to the counter. "So, what would you like?"

That takes him by surprise because he really had nothing in mind when he decided to come here and now he feels like an idiot.

"Uh, um... I would like... maybe cupcakes?" he sounds like an idiot too. But you nod and smile at him and start gathering his cupcakes into a polka dot cardboard box.

"You missed the cake pops I made last week." you say, trying to keep your voice in check as he hands you his credit car. "I think you would've liked them."

"Ah, sorry... Work has been really hectic." and even if it's true, it's also true the fact that he chickened out and was frightened to face you again. He likes how even when you're alluding to his absence, there's not a malicious tone behind your words. He likes how you're still smiling at him even after he's been acting like a pussy for two weeks. But that's why he's here. "I also would like to apologize for... you know. I didn't-...If I made you feel uncomfortable, I'm really sorry."

With your eyebrows raised, your smile dissipates. "What? No, you didn't do anything wrong, really. It's not- It's not that. I just...can't." you stumble through words, trying to explain how much you actually wanted to go to that coffee date, to get to know his name and more of himself, but unavailable to. You can feel it again. The same anguish that always seem to creep up on you and numbs you altogheter. But him, worriedly sensing your distress, waves his hands in front of him.

"No, no. It's fine, you don't have to explain anything! It's alright!" his smile seems to soothe you and you return his smile in gratitude. "Anyways, I'll... I'll get going. See you next week?"

You nod, anticipation already making its way into you. "See you next week." and then he takes the box filled with cupcakes and says goodbye. Before he can open the door though, a tingle of impulsivity and fearlesness makes you say:

"I'm _____, by the way."

He pauses, clearly taken aback.

"Jungkook."

Jungkook hasn't stopped repeating your name in his head ever since you gave it to him, grinning like a fool and thinking about how good it sounds next to his. He hasn't stopped frequenting your bakery either and has lost count on how much money he's spent on muffins and whatever else you sell. He doesn't care though. All he cares about is how much likes seeing you even if it's only for fifteen minutes in your floral dresses, and as long as you keep looking like you're glad to see him every time, then he's fine.

He's more than fine. He feels amazing. Sings tunes while he works on customers, feels his creativity flowing more than ever and he feels whole. It still baffles him how a minimun interaction with you once a week can make him feel on top of the world.

He's got a bouquet of white and pink lillies next time he visits, so sappy and romantic he doesn't even recognize himself. He doesn't tell you he googled their meaning and his mind instantly associated them with you. Purity is exactly what he thinks of you and admiration is exactly how he feels about you. Hands it to you and the surprised look on your face and the spreading of pink all over your cheeks makes his heart burst. You thank him and he tells you he didn't know what your favourite flower is. You answer it's carnations. He writes it down somewhere in his mind, for next time. And then you're the one surprising him.

"Would you like to have coffee sometime?"

There's uncertainty in your voice that doesn't go unnoticed by him, and for a moment he thinks he's dreaming. He's cool with what he's got right now with you, but you repeating his words back to him makes him feel euphoric, like he can't believe it. He knows he looks dumb, the way he's looking at you.

Completely dumbfounded. He stutters like the first same he met you, but he says yes (omits the part where he tells you he could almost die). You exchange number in each other's phones with shaky hands, set the day and hour, and then wave each other goodbye.

You instantly regret it as you watch him leave. Keep regretting it the following days. That voice in your head telling you 'it'll happen again', telling you fairytales didn't exist and this most likely wasn't one, even if it felt like it was, suffocating you like it had done many times before. Screwing with your head until you consider canceling.

But you power through it, like you had taught yourself to do. This time it's harder though. Because this time there's a new romantic interest at hand, one that's making you feel things you buried a long time ago and made you swear to yourself you'd be smarter and stronger than any man could.

It's Hoseok's encouraging words that help ease the panic. It was also Hoseok's words who encouraged you to ask Jungkook out. Said you deserved something good for once and that you couldn't close yourself to love your entire life.

Thought it was time for you to write a new chapter after a rather sad one.

So on Saturday, Jungkook insists on picking you up and it already feels like too much for you. Especially when he shows up with a bouquet of carnations in his hand and a smile that takes your breath away and definitely doesn't help to ease your nerves.

Takes him by surprised how pretty you look. maybe because it's the first time he's seen you out of your shop and even though you're still loyal to your clothing style, he still fumbles with his words like an idiot to try to express how beautiful you look. Seeing he's as much of a mess as you settles you a little bit. Then he takes you to a cute café that almost makes you laugh, because seeing him, inked arms and piercings and a closet that consisted mainly of black oversized t-shirts and pants in such a bright environment reminds you of the first time he entered your shop.

You're surprised to see how well the conversation rolls, how easy it is to talk to him beyond the usual brief interactions you two have. You like how he makes you laugh and how he seems to love hearing it. You like how his attention is solely focused on you, even if his gaze on yours sometimes feels too intense and his overall character intimidates you. You like how soft spoken he is, how careful he is with words and the sound of his voice. Sounds like a lullaby without melody.

And when the date is over, he drives you home, walks you to your door and respectfully wishes you a good night. You kiss him on the cheek spontaniously before hiding the embarrassment on your face and stepping inside your home. You miss the way he stays at your doorstep for a whole minute before getting in his car and driving himself home. You also miss how peacefully he sleeps that night, dreaming of cupcakes and you. You don't miss the heart emoji he sends you before going to bed, making yours quiver.

You're glad you didn't cancel, and now you're sure you don't regret it at all

It goes on. The dates, getting to know each other more and more, Jungkook's visits to your shop and spending way too much money on sweets and carnations, the butterflies in your stomach everytime he's near and the birth of something inside of you that's starting to make you feel alive after feeling dead for so long.

It's still new, still wholesome, moves in slow motion. You're glad Jungkook doesn't push, doesn't ask for anything, never demands more than a kiss on the cheek everytime he drops you off. He is nothing like he looks like, you realized that right away.

But with every brand new beginning that requires feelings like this, especially as unique and exceptional as the ones Jungkook is causing within you, comes the evil monster trying to scare you off, to make you back off and remind you that not everything that shines is gold. The voice inside your head that keeps bewitching you back into a dark room, reminder in your head everytime that one day Jungkook will want more. He'll want more and you might not be ready to give it to him.

A voice that keeps resonating and has kept you unmoving for the past few years and now is making you feel more frightened than ever.

You've been more quite than usual and Jungkook can tell something is not quite right. It's a friday night, and after having dinner that he insisted on paying, he decided this time to drive you away, to a secluded space somewhere where you both can appreciate the city lights on the hood of his car. He can tell, so he asks you, but you give a vague answer. He wants to ask again, but he's afraid of overstepping your boundaries. He wants to get to know you in every level, want's to scratch the surface until he can see everything. He wants to learn you inch by inch. Wants to love every part you bare to him, because he's sure he will.

"My ex partner was abusive."

You finally say with a voice that's not entirely yours, and it doesn't feel real. Doesn't feel real to say out loud and letting the words sink in. It's taken all this time of excusing behaviors that were not excusable, trying to make light of a situation that wasn't and blaming yourself for things that you were not to blame for. Jungkook stays silent, but his attention immediately focused on you as soon as you spoke. Eyes slightly wide and mouth starting to open as if to speak himself. But you go on.

"Not physically." you swallow a lump in your throat. "Sometimes he would throw things at me, but they didn't always land. Or... one time he pushed me while we were arguing. Never raised his hand at me though. It was mostly psychological and emotional. He was extremely jealous and possesive. Didn't like me hanging with my friends, would never bring me to hang out with him and his friends. Though I' was cheating on him with anyone. The cashier at the supermarket, a randome dude on the street that simply looked at me. Anyone." tears prickle your eyes, but you'd learned to hold them back.

"He would always get mad at me. Would already wake up angry and take it out on me. Without reason. Would always blame me for everything. He would get mad, insult me, call me any terrible name you can imagine, tell me I wasn't worth shit. That I wasn’t worth living.Then he would punch the wall, or break whatever was in sight. Everytime, I told him I was terrified of him. Would cry in a corner and beg him to stop. Sometimes he would just laugh at me for it." you sniff, still looking straight at the city lights, and trying to keep a composed tone throughout. You had grown up a lot since then, and you knew Jungkook deserved to know you. He deserved to understand.

"Then he would calm down, apologize while he cried and promised he loved me and would change. He never did. It took me a long time to finally walk away, but the demons still haunt me to this day. You," you choke, because comparing your ex to the guy currently sitting next to you was like day and night, like heaven and hell. "You make me feel things I've never felt before. I always felt like asking for respect was asking for too much. And then here you come, like a knight on shining armour ready to sweep me off my feet. It felt like a dream. Still does..."

Jungkook's hands are balled into tight fists, his whole body rigid as he listened to you. His own heart breaking, like he could feel himself inside you and experiencing your own heartbreak. His blood's boiling, jaw so tight and eyes blinking. Pushing down his anger, because this is about you not him, he lets his body relax before sliding your hand in yours.

"I like you so much,_____, it literally kills me at night how much. Not as much as hearing all of this, though. From the moment I saw you, I was whipped. I wanted and still want to give everything I can to see that smile of yours. It's me the one who can't believe you're paying me any attention at all." you're still not looking at him, but he still sighs in relief when your lips quirk up. "Just having you here next to me and letting me take you out on dates is more than enough for me. Whatever you give me, whatever your terms are, I'm content with that. You're healing, and while you do, I'll be right here."

You look at him now, not bothering to hide the tears streaming down your face anymore.

"What if I never heal completely?" there's fear in your voice as your eyes meet his, but just the dark brown in his gaze help you feel secure, less worried about the future and more serene about the now.

"I'll still be here."

It doesn't take long for you to call it love.

Not when Jungkook keeps proving himself to be so different and so special. Not when his gestures never cease to make you feel so special, so worthy of recieving and sharing love. Because Jungkook makes you feel invincible, makes you feel one in a million.

"What to you even see in me? We're like, polar opposites." you ask him one day. And it's true, you are. So different from each other, yet the same. He laughs in disbelief, shaking his head, still holding your hand in your doorstep about to kiss your cheek goodnight.

"I see everything." he simply says, eyes boring into yours in adoration. "I see the sun, and the moon, the stars, the entire galaxy when I'm with you." your heart clenches as he interlaces his fingers with yours. "Before I met you, I felt like I was blind. Like I was lost and was looking for an exit that I couldn't find. But then I saw you, in your little bakery, with your cute dresses and those eyes, and it was like my eyes opened for the first time. Everything made sense. Everything has been filled with so many colors ever sinc-"

You shut him with your lips on top of his, emotions pulling at your heartstrings the same way you pull him down by the neck. He takes a few seconds to respond, but then this hands are dropping to your waist, their warmth immediately spreading through your skin against the chilly night.

"Would you like to come in?" you whisper, breath fanning over his lips. He nods, hurriedly, and he knows he looks like a damn idiot for the hundredth time, but he doesn't care. Because coming in doesn't only mean stepping in your home. Coming in means you're letting him in. Means you trust him, means you want him there, means you're allowing him inside your heart.

Again, Jungkook doesn't expect nor demands much. Your presence is everything he needs. You kissing him is like winning the lottery to him. Like completing a marathon, like climbing the Everest, like getting his first tattoo. Kissing you is sweet, fills him with something strong that makes him feel on drugs, like nothing matters but you and him. Like nothing has ever mattered to neither of you.

So it's you who leads him to your room, it's you who straddles his thighs and pushes his hair back as his hands carress your sides. It's nothing fiery. It's slow, tentative, and full of care. Of lingering touches, low sighs against each other's mouths.

It's you who reaches inside his shirt, hand sneaking past the hem of the fabric and trembling cold fingers coming in contact with firm skin. It's also you who asks for more with a small roll of your hips. It's you who asks him to take his shirt off. It's him who complies. Still tells you you don't have to, you tell him you want to.

It's you who asks him to touch you. He's scared like he's never been, because you're you, and you're so perfect and everything he's ever wanted and suddenly he's afraid of you're too good for him. Jungkook only wants to make you happy, never wants to see you cry, just wants to treat you the way you deserve.

It's you who begs.

It's you who tells him you need him. Need him take care of you, need him to show you much you're worth, need him to help you write a new chapter, probably even a new book where you're both the main characters and nobody else has ever existed. You say it with tears in your eyes, and he's quick to kiss them away, tongue entangling with yours. He's quick to undress you as well, with hands that still ask for permission even after you've granted it already. Hands and lips that are also quick and eager to learn your body, to find every mole in your skin as he lays you back to look at you in admiration. He keeps kissing you. From head to toe, muttering praise, making sure every 'beautiful' and 'gorgeous' and 'perfect' that leave his lips stay fire engraved in your being forever.

He first makes you cum with careful fingers and skilled tongue, thighs wrapped aro around his head, eyes still looking for yours as his hands keep your body still and yours crumple the sheets beneath. Tells you how good you taste, how long he's been dying to have you like this. Tells you this you his favourite sight as he kisses his way up.

You beg him again, asking him to please, please, fill you up. He groans against your mouth and he tells you again, you don't have to. He says he's happy like this. Repeats he's in no rush and just wants to please you and make you feel good. That it's about you, and will always be about you. You beg him again, and again and again, enticing him with a trail of wet kisses down his neck, up to his eralobe. You whisper there, tell him you need him to fill you with his cock so bad. His whole body goes rigid as your legs wrap around him, legs pulling him closer to where you want him, his erection grazing your entrance and his teeth nibble your lower lip.

Jungkook doesn't move for a while, eyes closed shut, jaw clenched and head buried in your neck. He doesn't move because his mind is somewhere else keeping him stagnant, pussy wrapping around him so good and wet and tight he's about to bust. Takes a while for him to move, but when he does he makes sure to grip your thighs around him, keeping you close, never wanting to let go as he tells you you were made just for him. Just for him. Tells you how good you feel. He tells you he loves you. Kisses your lips as you sob, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. He tells you he loves you. Tells you he'll love you forever and will always keep you safe and happy.

You're crying now, cheeks wet and he stops for a moment to look at you, concern written all over his face as his hands craddle yours, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. "We can stop, baby." You shake your head no. Pull him back into another kiss, urging him to go on. You tell him you love this, love him so much. That it's a good thing. That they are happy tears. That you've never been happier. And then his hips start moving again, your words egging him own, soft whimpers and sobs leaving each other's throats until you cum at the same time.

He then removes himself from you, rolling onto your side but he's quick to pull your body close, arms wrapping around you and lips kissing away the wet stains on your cheeks.

It doesn't take long for you to know Jungkook would be the healthy forever and after you had always dreamed of.

#THE FEEELS BRUH #aaaaaa #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #bts #jungkook fic

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findingjoynweirdstuff · 4 years ago

Text

Dream SMP Recap (April 29/2021) - Prison Break

It’s finally time for Tommy to break into Pandora’s Vault and kill Dream once and for all. He brings Ghostbur along, and things don’t go to plan.

Jack’s plans have been foiled once again, and he speaks with Foolish, finding out that Foolish is another investigator working on the missing nuke situation.

Later, Ranboo breaks some news to Phil...

---

VOD LINKS:

Foolish

Tommyinnit

Jack Manifold

Ranboo

Captain Puffy

---

- Foolish continues work on his summer home Nether portal entrance. Sam comes over to judge the block palette he’s using for the floor

- Foolish asks Sam what happened at the Red Banquet. Sam is confused. Wasn’t Foolish there?

- Foolish wants to know what happened after he...you know (died). Sam tells Foolish that he has quarantined the Egg, and it will be locked away shortly. As for everyone else, Quackity arrived and no further casualties happened. No more Egg.

- Sam tells him the build is coming along well and leaves Foolish to think about what he said.

- Foolish isn’t sure if he entirely likes the idea that the Egg is so tough, but at least it seems like a win for now. He’ll have to ask someone later.

- Tommy meets with Ghostbur, Ranboo and Tubbo at the watchtower to gather up everything before the final plan.

- Tommy and Ghostbur go to the prison together. Tommy will sneak in after Ghostbur using invisibility.

Ghostbur: “Tommy, I need to ask you...promise -- you promise me they’re not gonna try and -- and revive me, right? They’re not gonna try a revival.”

Tommy: “Let’s not use the r-word, Ghostbur, we’re fuckin’ fine!”

- Friend is there. Tommy suggests they take Friend with them.

- They go over the items they have.

Ghostbur: “You know, Tommy, whenever I get scared, I always go to Friend. ‘Cause Friend knows exactly how to calm me down, he always knows how to make me happier, and he always knows -- he knows what to do. He knows how to make it better.”

Tommy: “And he’s blue.”

Ghostbur: “He’s really blue!”

- They say some parting words to Tubbo and Ranboo and head to the prison.

- They bring Friend through the Nether portal entrance, but can’t get him to go back through, so they leave Friend in the Nether for the time being. Ghostbur assures Friend that he’ll be back in a little bit.

- Ghostbur greets Sam at the lobby, Tommy now invisible.

- Ghostbur reviews the waivers and signs his name.

Sam asks the questions:

“When is the last time you visited the prison?”

“I don’t think I’ve been here, but my memory is quite bad.”

“Where is your current place of residence currently located?”

“L’manburg.”

“Do you believe that the prisoner is deserving of being locked up?”

“Um...I guess so...yeah, I mean you guys seem to know what’s right.”

“What are your prior relations with the prisoner?”

“Uh...He exiled me and Tommy to a holiday, uh...he also did bad things before, but I don’t remember them. Is this a history quiz? Am I doing okay?”

- Ghostbur answers the rest of the questions and goes to the locker rooms.

- Sam leads Ghostbur through all the security measures. Tommy sneaks behind, still invisible, trying not to be noticed.

- Ghostbur asks about the courtyard. Sam says there’s nothing in it.

- Ghostbur signs the other two waivers and they reach the lava wall.

- It falls, and Tommy follows Ghostbur across the bridge. Just as they reach the platform to Dream, though, Tommy pulls out the Netherite Axe and Sam shouts at them to stop.

- Sam tells whoever’s invisible to get back on the bridge or else they’ll be killed. Reluctantly, Tommy gets back on the bridge and Sam brings him back over to the other side, giving him a bucket of milk to get rid of the invisibility.

- He sees that it’s Tommy and shouts at him to ask what he’s doing breaking into the prison, that Sam should kill Tommy for violating the contract.

- Dream calls for Sam to let him out or else he’ll revive Wilbur.

- Dream disappears for a moment in the panic. Tommy tells Sam to let him back over but Sam tells him to stand to the side.

- Dream reappears and reveals that he has the book in his hand.

- Tommy and Ghostbur count to ten together to help Ghostbur calm down.

- Sam starts bringing down the lava wall, insisting that he can’t bring back the bridge.

Ghostbur: “Tommy, you said it would be okay!”

Ghostbur dies and leaves the game as the lava wall falls.

- Sam tells Tommy he’s never coming back to the prison and starts leading him out.

- Tommy tells Sam he’ll kill him.

Sam: “Do it then.”

Tommy: “You know what, Sam, you’re corrupt.”

Sam: “I am not corrupt, Tommy. Everything I’ve done, I did to try and help the server.

Tommy: “You let me die!”

Sam: “You’re so lucky I don’t kill you right now. You should be dead, Tommy.”

Tommy: “Sam. Where’s Ghostbur?”

Sam: “Shut up, Tommy, I don’t want to hear it, I should’ve killed you right when I saw you on that bridge. You should be dead...The only reason you’re not dead is just because -- just don’t -- shut up, Tommy, I don’t want to hear anything else. Go.”

...

Sam: “You did this. You can blame me all you want, Tommy, this is not my fault. You did this.”

Tommy: “Sam. Go to Hell.”

Sam: “Say what you want, Tommy, I don’t care. I don’t care. I told you you weren’t gonna come in here again. I said no one else was gonna come in here. Every single problem at this prison was caused by you! Everything is perfect when it’s just me and him! Nothing bad has ever happened, until you started coming here! You are the greatest security risk on this server for this prison, and keeping him locked up! What were you thinking?! What did you think was going to happen?!”

Tommy: “Stop talking to me! Stop! Let me out, let me out the prison.”

Sam: “This is -- I cannot believe you, Tommy. You should be dead. I should’ve killed you. I should’ve just shot you when you were over there.”

“Tommyinnit, let me make something clear to you. You are never to come to this prison again. And if I ever see you even near the grounds of this prison one more time, I will murder you. I will take your last canon life and then I will hunt the ghost that remains. Do you understand me? I will not let Dream escape this prison, and you seem to be the only one that wants him to be free for some reason, even though we’re -- come on, Tommy. Go.”

- Tommy exits the prison with Friend and meets Ranboo and Tubbo outside. He tells them that Wilbur is back, and Ghostbur is gone.

- There’s only one way to know for sure: Tommy leads them over to L’manhole to visit the place where Wilbur died.

- They find him standing at the shrine.

Wilbur: “Oh...hello again.”

- Wilbur asks if this is real, who’s Friend. Tommy tosses him some blue but he doesn’t take it.

- He steps out and sees the crater, thinking it was his doing, that Tubbo has been running this place. He’s missed a bit.

Wilbur: “I’m alive! Tommy, I’m alive! I have spent thirteen and a half years in the fucking -- oh, what is this, what have you been making art? Making geometric art on the roof? Track and field?”

- Tommy tells him it was Dream and Techno. Wilbur runs up the hill.

Wilbur: “Tommy, this is bliss! Oh my god the sunrise -- where’s the sunrise, I need to watch the sunrise -- Oh! ...Tommy, I’ve waited so fucking long. Tommy, I have been waiting for over a decade in mere darkness...and this is my sunrise, this is my sunrise -- this is mine! This is mine, Tubbo!”

- He notices Ranboo. Some new faces!

- He tells Tommy that he cherished the day that Tommy came and they played solitaire. Tommy tells him it was the worst time of his life, and Wilbur says the same.

- As for Ghostbur, Wilbur knows him. He asks what Tommy’s version of the afterlife was like.

Wilbur: “I guess everyone has their own personal limbo. Okay. Tommy, I don’t know if you remember me telling you this, it was quite a few years ago for me now, but...my personal limbo was a train platform, Tommy. It was a train platform. No matter where I looked, no matter where I went, just concrete walls all around, and a tube, with a track, running straight along.”

“It doesn’t matter what I did, Tommy, I could claw at the walls. I could bash on the doors, I could scream for help -- I screamed until my lungs were sore, ‘til my voice was hoarse -- and nothing ever changes, nothing ever comes, nothing ever helps you, Tommy. And then you arrive -- you arrive, and it was great! And then you left. You got on a train and you left!”

“And Tommy, the last thing I saw, was a train pulling in, and there were two people on that train. One man, a desaturated me, came rolling into town, came rolling into Limbo -- my Limbo! He’s in my Limbo! His face was steaming with tears, they looked like they were burning him? I don’t know. But do you know who else was on that train, who was conducting the train, who let me out, Tommy?”

“It was Dream. It was Dream. My hero, my fucking hero, Dream, saved me from that hell! Tommy, I thought I wanted to die. All those -- that decade and a half ago, I thought I wanted to die! I thought I wanted to die, but now I’ve seen what Hell is! Now I’ve seen the other side. Tommy, I’ve been given a new lease on life -- there’s so much I need to do, Tommy, there’s so much I gotta do, there’s so much -- Tubbo, are you coming? And Ranboo...Ranboo...I know so much about you, Ranboo."

- Ghostbur’s memories start coming back to him as he remembers the sewer. Tommy tells him that things have changed, and Wilbur is responsible for all the pain that so many people have went through.

- Wilbur asks him if he’s trying to make him feel like he felt in Pogtopia again.

Wilbur: “I have this lease on life, and by God, if life’s a fucking horse, I’m gonna ride it, Tommy!”

- Telling them all that he has things to plan, Wilbur leaves them for next time.

Ranboo: “...What the hell did you do?”

- Since the server has been very uneventful, Jack continues on his plan to build a pub

- He’s eager to become a prison guard so that, when Tommy goes back to the prison, he can kill him!

- Jack finds out that Tommy already went to the prison. He’s distraught. All of that was for nothing?

- He doesn’t know where Tommy and Dream are, and those were the only two people that mattered. And now the only person online on the server is Technoblade.

- Jack asks Technoblade if he knows what’s going on with Tommy. Techno says Tommy died, didn’t he? (He’s been quite out of the loop)

- Jack tries to go into the prison but it doesn’t work.Techno points out that the best way to get into jail is to commit a crime. Jack thinks that’s not such a bad idea. Techno recommends arson and/or tax fraud.

- Jack builds a penis on the prison entrance to try and get Sam’s attention. It doesn’t work.

- He notices Foolish wandering around and follows after him. They talk for a bit about Jack’s plans. Foolish brings up the missing nuke. Jack didn’t realize Foolish knew about it.

- They discuss possible suspects for who could’ve stolen the nuke. Foolish tells Jack about him and Tubbo interrogating HBomb. Techno said no, and Quackity said no as well (him and Techno are on good terms), and it couldn’t have been Jack. Foolish suggests Sam.

- Jack doesn’t think Sam’s a good suspect, but he goes along with Foolish’s idea in order to possibly interview Sam later.

- Ranboo joins the game, still at L’manhole. He starts walking.

- Ranboo doesn’t like Wilbur, since according to the legends he’s heard, he was... “A villain, basically.”

- Phil is online... Ranboo rehearses what he’s going to say to him to break the news as he farms wheat.

- He heads back to the Arctic. Phil is home. Ranboo goes inside, sits Phil down, and tells Phil that Tommy had a plan to go into the prison with Ghostbur and kill Dream.

- Ranboo tells him. When Tommy came out...Ghostbur was not with him. Dream is still alive. Phil asks if Ghostbur got lost, and Ranboo breaks the news that Wilbur has been revived.

- Phil jumps up. This changes everything! He was reading up on resurrection, and Dream had the right book -- and he revived Wilbur, but why? Is Wilbur any different? Phil has so many questions.

- Ranboo doesn’t know if he was normal because he’d never met him. He said he was in a train station for thirteen years.

- Phil is shocked by this. Thirteen years is a very long time to be away. He might not be the same person.

- Ranboo tells Phil that Wilbur thinks the crater is what he did. Phil asks if Ghostbur’s memories are there. Ranboo says that he started to. He knew a lot about Ranboo. Phil has a lot of questions.

- Phil asks where Wilbur is. Ranboo says they saw him at L’manburg, but he’s not there anymore.

- What Phil is scared of is what Wilbur has been thinking about this whole time. People can change a lot in a single year, two years, five years. Wilbur was gone for thirteen.

Phil: “I don’t know if he’s going to be the same Wil I knew.”

“I need to prepare. I need to be ready for when he eventually comes to see me, because he probably has some questions...if he’s been sitting on what happened for thirteen years, then we have a lot to talk about. I think I know where he might be...I’ll talk to you later, Ranboo.”

- Phil leaves.

- Ranboo steps outside and looks at the blue, suddenly realizing that Ghostbur is gone. But maybe Wilbur’s turned over a new leaf. Ranboo’s optimistic.

- Wilbur seemed to be fond of Tubbo, and Tubbo described how Wilbur had affected him.

- Ranboo looks at his Memory Book and the message the Enderwalk left him. This is what he has to do.

- What he has to do is keep a close eye on Wilbur, and he knows exactly the people who can help him with that.

- Ranboo heads back to the main area. Antfrost comes running by dressed as Badboyhalo in a maid outfit.

- Ranboo makes his way to the Disruption Hole and drops down to the bottom, where he comes face to face with a group of Endermen. He asks them to do a favor for him -- keep an eye on Wilbur for him.

- Ranboo goes back to the Arctic to create an obsidian mailbox for the Council to give him news. Learning to speak Enderman was a good idea. That was the good thing about the experiments.

- When Tubbo described Wilbur to Ranboo, he said that Wilbur really liked debates. That little courthouse in the sky? Maybe they should fix it, maybe if he does then Wilbur will warm up to Ranboo and like him.

- Ranboo goes to King’s Court and starts fixing it up.

- When push comes to shove, he’s going to have to be on Tommy and Tubbo’s side.

- He realizes he didn’t tell Phil about Wilbur calling Dream his “hero.”

- Ranboo and Tubbo had some fun playing chess while waiting for Tommy to kill Dream.

- Wilbur has no idea about the Egg either.

- Ranboo finishes working on King’s Court and leaves a message for Phil saying that Wilbur considers Dream his hero.

- Wilbur also has no idea about Michael...

- Ranboo goes over to the Egg Room to grab a Netherite block.

- Tubbo logs on and they hang out for a while

- They mess around in the spider spawner, playing with item frame pictures.

- Puffy works on the graveyard and hangs out with Sam, Bad and Eret

---

Upcoming Events:

- Quackity’s business opening

- Dream’s lore video

- Bad’s Egg lore stream

- Tales From the SMP: “Space Race”

#dream smp #dream smp recaps #long posts

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nagipops · 4 years ago

Note

can i request a naruto x reader frenemies to lovers? i’ll leave the rest up to you 😘 love your writing.

“BUT WE HATE EACHOTHER!”

FEATURING: naruto uzumaki!

SUMMARY: in which you catch feelings for a certain yellow-haired nuisance. what you didn’t know? the feeling was mutual.

WARNINGS: this is a modern school au!

A/N: thank you very much, anon! i had some fun with this one :)

“Naruto!” you cried, fisting the collar of his shirt and dragging his face mere inches from yours. “Give it back!”

The blonde in front of you grimaced in pain, clenching his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut. “Hck— okay! Jeez!” Raising his arm up while dangling in midair, your phone shimmered within his firm grip as he held it out to you helplessly. You dropped him from your grasp and reached for your phone, when all of a sudden, he sped off at the speed of light in the opposite direction.

“NARUTO!!” you seethed, taking off after the hysterical blue-eyed boy.

You lay in bed that night after a wild goose chase to retrieve your phone from your sworn enemy when you turned on your device and gaped at your lock screen.

A blonde head and a familiar peace sign stared back at you, illuminating the dark room in a warm glow. Your initial furious reaction slowly gave way as you continued to stare at your lock screen, noticing how... maybe he was kind of... cute? His cheeky grin, bright eyes, and youthful demeanor charmed just about anyone. You had no idea how he did it, but it was somehow starting to have an effect on you.

A tiny smile on your face, you unlocked your phone to find every single app cover displaying Naruto’s shit-eating grin.

“NARUTO!!!!!” you shrieked, throwing your phone at the wall and pulling the covers over your head.

Biting your lip to keep a laugh from bursting out, you silently zipped up the front pocket of Naruto’s busted backpack, sliding his nearly obliterated phone into the sleeve of your hoodie. You slipped quietly back into your seat, hiding his phone behind the book you were pretending to read while you got to work unlocking it.

Shoot. A password.

Trying to recall his birthday, you realized that he probably wasn’t smart enough to set his password to something cryptic like that, so you punched in the age-old code: 0000.

And just like that, you were in his phone.

“Yes!” you whispered, swiping through the various screens in attempt to find any juicy secrets, but his screen was so broken that it was futile to read anything with the naked eye. “Kami, how the hell does he see anything? No wonder his texts are always so incoherent.”

An idea popped into your mind as you headed over to the messaging app to try and dig up some scandalous gossip.

His texts had absolutely zero substance.

A lot of nagging Shikamaru to hang out with him, walls of bizarre emojis to Sasuke, spamming random words to Sakura, and so forth. You facepalmed yourself at the thought of Naruto actually having the brains to have a real conversation with someone over text.

You sighed as you scrolled mindlessly through the thread of texts between him and Sakura, when something caught your eye. Words like “crush”, “confession”, “tell them”, and “cute” stuck out to you, piquing your curiosity.

After taking a closer look, you spotted your name amidst the frantic texts from Naruto. Examining the screen even closer, you read a few of the messages between them.

Hehe, sakura chan, i took (y/n)’s phone today 😝

baka, they’re gonna hate you for that now! do you want them to neglect you forever??

I ALSO CHANGED THEIR LOCK SCREEN, do you think they’ll like it??

ARE YOU STUPID??!!!! DONT COME CRYING TO ME WHEN YOUR CONFESSION DOESNT FRICKING WORK

I THINK THEY ALREADY KNOW I LIKE THEM!!!!!!! YOU TOLD ME TEASING MAKES THEM HAVE A CRUSH ON YOU, RIGHT????

WHAT EVER. DON’T COME CRYING TO ME WITH A BROKEN HEART.

Naruto’s phone slipped from your fingers as your eyes glazed over in shock. The merciless teasing, the endless phone stealing, the ceaseless name-calling were all just Naruto’s crappy attempts at... flirting?

You then recalled all of the times he playfully patted your head a little too hard, to the point where you thought he was just abusing you for fun. You recalled all the times you caught him staring at you before he stuck out his tongue, when you just thought he was being an annoying brat. You recalled all the little tiny hints here and there, masked by his immature quirks and behaviors.

Before your thoughts could run any further, you felt a strong, familiar hand grab the top of your head, and you were suddenly all too aware of the cracked phone sitting in your lap and the warmth of your cheeks.

Oh shit.

The hand tilted your head backwards until you were staring upside down at a blonde haired, blue-eyed boy with an irritated scowl on his face. “What are you doing?”

“Hey, it’s only fair, you plastered your own face all over my damn phone, alright?” You felt the blood rush to your head from being tilted backwards, the roots of your hair stinging from Naruto’s grip. “Let me go, I didn’t even find anything good!”

“Uh-huh.” He released your head, leaving your scalp aching and your vision blurry as he reached to grab his phone from your lap. His eyes squinted at his screen, examining it for any weird changes to his device. “Hey, you cracked it even more here!”

You gave him an incredulous look. “I— what?” You followed his gaze to the right side of his phone, searching for the crack to no avail. “How can you even notice that crap?!”

After huffing a sigh, a devilish grin spread across Naruto’s face as he shoved his phone into his pocket before smacking the back of your head with his palm. “Payback!”

“Hey!” you cried, rubbing the stinging nape of your neck. “First you pull my hair, now this?!”

He chuckled, flashing you a cheeky close-eyed grin. “It’s only fair!” His expression slowly grew serious as he turned to look you directly in the eyes. “Ah... hey, (Y/N)-chan, how would you feel about going on a date with me to Ichiraku today?”

You snorted in half surprise, half disbelief. “Are you crazy? We...” your mind traveled back to the strange text messages between him and Sakura. “We... we hate each other.”

Naruto’s eyebrows shot up, his eyes widening before he broke into a bashful laugh. “We-well... yeah, right. We hate each other.”

The two of you stared into eachother’s eyes for what felt like an eternity. You noticed the tiniest bit of affection in his blue eyes and the lightest blush on his cheeks as he held your gaze.

Slapping your desk and shooting to your feet, you broke the insufferable, lingering silence. “Well, can’t say no to free ramen.” Smirking, you brushed past him, throwing a teasing glance over your shoulder. “Well? What are you waiting for? Your treat!”

Naruto stood paralyzed behind your desk, his stunned face frozen in shock before melting into an exasperated yet affectionate grin.

“(Y/N), you idiot...” he muttered before chasing you through the city all the way to his favorite ramen shop.

if you enjoyed this post, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :) feel free to request here, and make sure to read the rules first! have a lovely day everyone <3

#naruto #naruto x reader #naruto imagines #naruto headcanons #naruto scenarios #naruto shippuden #naruto uzumaki #naruto uzumaki headcanons #naruto uzumaki x reader #naruto x you #naruto fluff #naruto fanfiction #naruto uzumaki imagines #gn

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your-highnessmarvel · 4 years ago

Text

From Bleak to Bright - Part Nine

All other parts on on my masterlist, link provided below.

AN: this chapter is long again but worth it;) I’ve included two lines from two of you who’ve participated in my little challenge and these are the lines:

“You will not touch her!!”

“ Darling, I may be a god but I am still a man”

so be on the look out;)

Warnings: angst, language, sexually explicit language (18+ only!)

MASTERLIST - SERIES MASTERLIST

PART NINE

Three days passed without incident, well, false, there were a few spilled cereals on the floor and burning yourself while trying to make dinner. Otherwise, though, there was no incident!

Loki kept his distance, or well, as far away as he wanted. Whenever he deigned to come back to the loft, he was handsy. A hand at the small of your back while you made dinner. A hand on your thigh while you read to him late at night. A lingering hand in yours while you said goodnight. But never more.

And as much as you wanted to be more, to have the courage to swallow your pride and to act on the soulmate bond, you never went further.

Even despite the soulmate bond, the fact that colors were so vibrant and real, there was always that nagging thought at the back of your head. Bruce. He came to you in your dreams, pleading, begging you to come back. Even if you woke up with your heart in your throat, your fingers trembling, you never made another attempt to leave the loft.

And that’s what it was this morning, waking up with your heart bashing against your breastbone, your breath haggard, hands shaking as you gripped the sheets. You gasped, trying to catch your breath, but the vividness of the dream made your head spin. Ever since colors came to you, your dreams just felt that much more real.

After sitting on the edge of the bed, trying to get your brother’s face out of your mind, you went to the bathroom and cleaned up for the day, dressing in your regular jeans and t-shirt. You planned to ask Loki how his evil mastermind of a plan was going, but the loft was quiet.

Last night, you’d gotten through half of Jane Austen, while Loki played in your hair, watching you with those intense green eyes. The book still lay on the couch, open, face down, and you picked it back up.

“Proceeding without me, darling?”

You looked back as Loki strode in from the hall, the door to his room wide open, and you could see his unmade bed beyond. You wondered how Loki slept. Was he a quiet, unmoving sleeper? Or a loud, messy one?

“Sleeping in late now, are we?” you countered as you went back to the book. Loki went to the kitchen with a chuckle, beginning his breakfast.

“A day off never hurt anybody,” he answered.

“A day off from what?” you asked with a snark. “From taking over my planet?”

He chuckled softly but never answered. He was so dodgy when it came to questions about it. Even your questions about the Avengers, he usually shrugged and ignored you.

He came back with two bowls of Lucky Charms and coffee, which you both indulged in silence. Today, Loki was wearing a black knit sweater and his usual trousers, his leg folded on the couch between you. He looked almost sweet eating his child’s cereal, deep in thought, those green gems faraway.

When you were finished, he took your bowl and empty mug and went back to the kitchen to wash them. You looked at him, chin on the back of the couch, losing yourself in the width of his broad shoulders, the way the fabric of his sweater strained across the expanse of his back.

He was truly, utterly beautiful. Maybe it was the soulmate bond tugging deep in your chest, making you see things in him you’d normally never notice. But his touch was gentle, even if his body was all sharp, hard angles. His face was sweet despite the constant frown and the obnoxious tone he sometimes employed. There was something about those strands of raven hair, cut short just beneath his ears, that you wanted to run your fingers through. Would they be soft? Would they be thick?

Countless times you’d pictured yourself tugging at those dark roots, pulling his head back and exposing his pale, long neck.

“Staring, Y/N?” came the rumble of his voice.

You perked up, cheeks growing hot. He was still facing away from you. How did he know?

Your silence made him chuckle, his shoulders moving along with the waves of his laughter. He turned off the tap, turning to face you, leaning against the countertop. You wanted to absolutely delete the space between the both of you, but instead, you fell back against the couch, only your eyes and forehead visible to him.

He smiled cockily. “It’s fine if you stare,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s adorable.”

“I wasn’t,” you stuttered, looking away, wanting to hide. “I wasn’t staring.”

“I am not an idiot,” Loki said, stalking towards you. “I know staring when I see it.” He put his hands on the back of the couch, on each side of your face, and you had to look up to maintain eye contact.

“I was just - looking,” you mumbled, looking down.

He hooked a finger under your chin, bringing your eyes back to his. “I said it’s fine if you look,” he said, inching closer, leaning over you. “I do it too.”

He watched you frown with a tilt of his head, his fingers still grasping your chin. Your mouth parted to say something back, maybe a clever little retort, but you found yourself at a lost for words.

“I feel the same bond as you, Y/N,” he said, and now his tone was lower, rougher. “I feel the same... desires as you.” You wanted to look away, but he kept a hold on you that you dared not break. “Do you think of me at night?” he asked in a whisper.

Your breath hitched. You did. God, you did. You didn’t want to admit it to yourself, but you stayed long hours staring up at the cream ceiling, imagining what he was doing in his room. What he was thinking. If he was imagining you as well. If his body responded to the thought of you. Because yours did whenever his smirk appeared in your mind’s eye, whenever those hands imaginarily stroked your hips.

His mouth quirked up in a smirk. “You do,” he murmured, gaze dropping momentarily at your parted lips. “Say it.” It was a command.

You gulped, finding it extremely hard to maintain eye contact. “I do.” Your voice was small, barely above a whisper.

He smiled. “Of course you do.” He stroked your bottom lip with his thumb. “I can’t help it, having you in my thoughts. It’s like a plague. I can’t bare it when I am not with you. I want...” he trailed off, his eyes round, red mouth parted as if he was surprised he’d admitted this much. “I want to kiss you so much. I want to touch every single inch of your skin. I want to taste you and hear what that brings out of you. I can’t stop thinking about it, and Gods, is it hard to control myself.”

You gulped, heat crawling up your face, your hands in fists at your sides. Something new spilled in your tummy, a heat previously unbeknownst to you. It dripped like lead down your thighs, seeping into your core, and you shut your legs together to keep it there.

Loki chuckled, watching you struggle. “Darling, I may be a God but I am still a man,” he whispered. You shivered, the force of his words like a hot flame coursing down your body. “And I won’t be able to keep myself from you any longer.”

You looked up, something daring crawling up your features, relaxing your trembling fists.

“Then don’t,” you said.

He was so close to you that you could see the little freckles on his eyelids, the crinkling of the skin beside his mouth as his lips split into a grin.

“You’re bad,” he uttered. “I like it.”

He softly jerked his chin, eyes boring into yours, and you felt the kiss before he even touched you. His hand left your chin and slid down to grasp your shoulders, bringing you up, kneeling before him. And as he softly pressed his lips to yours, he brought you over the edge of the couch until you stood before him.

At first, his lips were hesitant, soft, slow, as if he was afraid to scare you. To make sure you totally and utterly wanted this. And God, was this better than anything you’d ever experienced. The smell of him so close, the feel of his body pressed flushed against yours, his lips molding against your mouth. It was Paradise.

Flames erupted under your flesh as Loki kissed you, slowly, sensuously. Your hands slid across his arms, up around his shoulders, and finally, you gripped the soft roots of his raven locks. A guttural groan escaped his throat when you tugged softly, and his left hand - that’d been obediently tucked against your waist - gripped your ass, while his right hand wrapped slowly around your throat.

And his kiss deepened, became hungrier, his tongue opening your lips for him. Heat pooled treacherously down your belly, settling in the pit of your pelvis. This side to Loki, this lasciviousness, the way his hand around your throat squeezed ever so slightly, the one on your ass gripping possessively, made your heart trash against your ribs.

You wanted more. You wanted closer. You wanted him.

But the moment broke. It shattered at the sound of a loud, blaring alarm, the loft shutting down and coming back blood red in lights.

You broke apart, panting, and Loki quickly turned so you were behind him. Your hands rested on his upper back, and you could feel his quick breaths as he scanned the room. Your lips were warm, swollen from his kiss.

A shuddering, ground breaking crash made the floor beneath your feet rumble, like a great big beast had thundered through the walls.

“Shit,” you said, all heat lost, a frozen, merciless cold gripping your insides. You knew exactly what great big beast had found you.

Loki turned, and the complete change in his expression - from lust to panic - made your head spin.

“We’ve been found,” he said. “They’ve come for you, my dear.” He looked at you expectantly, and whatever he wanted you to say, you didn’t. Because you couldn’t choose between your brother, your fucking family, and your soulmate.

The unfairness made you want to cry.

He gripped your hand and kissed it harshly. “Stay here,” he ordered.

Your empty hand felt cold without his.

He turned and rippled his magic, illusion dripping from him, revealing the true God. Clad in his long green cotton cape, his black, gold, and green armor adorning his lean build, his horned, golden helmet casting off the brute lights. He looked like a true God; a powerful one.

Something weird and unpleasant settled in your stomach when he brought his left hand up, his golden staff materializing between his fingers. The light at the tip glowed a nebulous, familiar blue.

He used it to travel - that was the only word you had for it, the way the world seemed to crack before him, swallowing Loki whole and closing, leaving you staring at empty space.

Panting, heart beating, thoughts wild from both the kiss and the blaring alarm, you ran for the door. As you’d guessed, it was locked. Whatever magic Loki held on the loft, it wasn’t about to let you out. Pressing your ear against the door, you heard nothing but the muffled rumbling of the lab on the other side.

You pushed back, angry, groaning in frustration. Maybe if you found your brother and explained. Even if it was ridiculous. Even if Loki was ultimately the villain, the one to threaten your own planet, there had to be an explanation for the bond. And surely, your brother would understand, right?

But you had no time to answer your own question. You had no time to venture into your thoughts. The door blasted open, sending a wave of heat, throwing you back across the air. You landed hard on your back, your head cracking against the floor.

You vision blurred, wavered, flooding in and out from black to red. A few sparks blew in your vision, muffled voices blurring in your ears. Something pushed off your chest, a heavy weight clearing, your breathing returning in a rush.

Someone was talking to you, yelling at you actually, but you couldn’t make them out. Your world was red and black, a harsh duality, your head swimming viciously. You thought you’d vomit, but the feeling passed. Your left arm was numb.

“Get up!”

It was a voice you recognized.

Thor.

You felt arms under your knees, behind your head, gently lifting you. There was a cold harshness, like steel, against your cheek. A rumbling voice overhead.

“Y/N,” he said, shaking you slightly. “Can you hear me?”

You shook your head. “He’s going to kill you,” you mumbled, frowning, a violent headache searing across your brain.

Thor huffed.

Something crashed nearby. Thor groaned, his body moving slightly.

“Let her go!” Loki’s voice made the world regain its focus, like being taken out from underwater. You reached up, gripping Thor’s armor. Trying to push yourself off.

“Loki, you’ve mascaraed this planet!” Thor shouted. The force of his voice shook through you. The voice of a God. A king.

“Let her go, brother! You’ve no idea what you’re doing!” There was pain in Loki’s voice, urgency. Fear.

“Put down the staff, Loki,” Thor demanded. Your head was heavy. An ache crawled along your skull. Another concussion.

The air shifted, something similar to space travel, but your skin didn’t tighten, your body didn’t feel stretched across time. Thor yelled, his hands curling at your sides, until you were dropped and Thor’s body was propelled from yours.

When you looked up, your head aching something fierce, Loki was bent over you, green eyes torn with fear. He placed a hand on your shoulder, skimming your collarbone. “I’ll kill him,” Loki growled, getting to his feet.

You wanted to tell him to stop, to just take you away again, but your head was too heavy to lift.

“Bruce is out there, brother,” Thor said, but you couldn’t see him, and your brother’s name on his tongue made tears brim in your eyes. “He’s coming for her and you can’t stop it!”

“You cannot have her!” Loki yelled back, vicious, teeth snapping. “You will not touch her! She’s mine!”

There was a vicious, tremendous crash, the ground rumbling under your spine, sending reverberations painfully dancing along your skull.

Loki turned, saw the flash of green in the blaring red of the alarm. You wanted to call out. Call out to your brother. You didn’t want him hurt, even if you knew that in this form, the Hulk was basically indestructible.

Loki was too far away to simply leave with you, using the power of his staff. He glanced at you, saw the expanse of space between you both, and his eyes sharpened, just as Hulk came barreling through the wall, roaring in rage, coming toe to toe with Loki.

And Loki vanished, leaving you there, on the floor, broken, and empty.

Tags: @subtlemalice @yallgotkik @buckyandlokirunmylife @kaz11283 @legolas-bromance @shylittlemountain @tofeartheunknown @feelmyfckngsoul @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @caffiend-queen @tomhollandsslilslut @lady-loki-ren @nathan-no @rosaline-black @abundanceofcarolines @my-own-oracle @it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream @marvelouslovely @drbaureid @bored-as-hell-666 @youhavemyfantasticbeasts @theinfinitenerd @toe-vind-ek-jou @ink-and-starlight @blank-bakabane @sunshineonloki @holaamishamigos @palegoopbearlight @heyarely16 @pleaseexecuteme @athalahild @help-i-need-a-social-life @tapismyforte @coloursforyourportrait @celestialstarshadow @fukyouthink @lust-for-pan @thic-thor

#loki #Loki Laufeyson #loki imagine #loki oneshot #imagine loki #loki fic #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #lokixyou #lokixyn #lokixreader #loki x you #loki x yn #loki x reader #soulmate au

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 4 years ago

Text

And I Will Hold Onto You

Summary: They’ve never been apart for holidays since they started dating. That was until Spencer Reid found himself behind bars for a crime he’d never think of committing. Growing and healing, Spencer realizes that it’s not the holidays that matter, it’s the person. Because with that special person, who’s laugh he can recognize anywhere, even cleaning up the empty bottle the next morning is magical.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.1K

Author’s Note/Warnings: Body Image Issues (Male) nothing too descriptive, prison arc is mentioned/is central issue; loosely based of New Year’s Day by Taylor Swift

Also this is technically a part 2 to Drag Me Head First but it doesn’t have to be read that way.

And I Will Hold Onto You

There’s something special in the way that the first midnight of the new year feels. All that hopefulness and excitement packed into a 10 second countdown. The energy in the room slowly bubbles up, culminating as the ball drops. It fizzles out as loved ones share chaste kisses and friends hug. But all that remains are last year’s bottles and this year’s dreams. Maybe it’s something that Spencer always took for granted.

The cold midnight air is jarring, compared to his warm and cozy house. Spencer walks quickly, taking out the trash, filled with bottles of beer and wine. The snow crunches under his shoes and Spencer can see his breath in the air as he huffs to toss the bag in the black trash bin. Spencer, despite the way the cold air nips his nose, stops in his tracks and gazes up at the stars. It’s unfortunate living where he does, you can never really see all the stars. Maybe Y/N would like to take a trip in their cabin the next time he can get off? He could show her all the stars. But Spencer doesn’t need to go to the middle of the woods to see the stars; he can simply look into Y/N’s eyes and see all the magic the universe has to offer.

Spencer lets himself back into his house, just as Garcia and Derek are putting their shoes and coats on to leave. Y/N comes out of the kitchen carrying two trays of leftover food for their friends to take home.

“Penny, please kiss those sweet babies for me,” Y/N says, handing Luke the trays of food. She leans over to kiss Penelope on her cheek.

“They can only sweet when they are sleeping,” Penelope says, rolling her eyes and putting her coat on. It’s more of a cape in a spectacular plum purple color with cream colored faux fur trim.

“Don’t act so surprised, mi amor, look who their mother is,” Luke says, cheekily. He hugs Spencer and Y/N before grabbing Garcia’s hand with his empty one.

“Happy New Year!” Garcia and Luke call as they leave, shutting the door behind them. Spencer locks the door and heads back to the kitchen to help Y/N clean up. The plates sit in the sink piled high, with tall champagne glasses resting next to them on the counter. Glitter scatters on the floor, confetti in the shapes of “1s” and “6” lay littered on the tiles, remnants of the festivities just moments before.

Y/N stands over the sink, her hand rests on the ledge. She turns on the water and starts washing the dishes. Spencer walks up quietly behind her, nuzzling his hand into the corner of her ear and shoulder. He hums, the vibrations echoing into Y/N’s neck, causing her to giggle. He joins his hands together around Y/N’s waist, holding her tight.

“Happy New Year, my love,” Spencer whispers, his voice hardly audible above the stream of water. Even though Spencer can’t see Y/N, he can feel the way her cheeks grow against the side of his head. She’s smiling.

“It is a very happy, new year,” Y/N says, her voice strong, yet Spencer can tell it’s hard for her to keep it together. It’s not their first new year, far from it, it’s their 13th. But this time, it feels different to hold her in his arms and kiss her as the clock strikes 12.

They wash the dishes in silence, a comforting silence where certain things don’t need to be said. Like a well oiled machine, Y/N washes, Spencer dries. The sudsy dish soap smells like home and Y/N’s quiet hums sound like peace. Spencer really forgot how much he could love even the most mundane of tasks when Y/N stands next to him.

“Come on, Y/N we can do this tomorrow. Let’s just go to bed,” Spencer says, tugging on Y/N’s long sleeve of her thermal shirt.

“Hmm, I can’t argue against your cuddles, sweetheart,” Y/N murmurs tiredly, easily pushing the thoughts of clean up to the next morning. Her hand joins his, like a key finding it’s matching lock. They are cold from the water, but Spencer doesn’t really mind.

A tangle of limbs and hands, they make their way up the stairs to their shared bedroom. They pass the wall filled with pictures of their smiling faces or candid countenances in mismatching frames hung against the wall. It’s just a testament to how long they’ve been together, going back to their first date right before Y/N’s college graduation and Spencer’s fifth, leading up to their most recent Halloween. Each photo stuck in time, frozen with utter happiness and unadulterated joy. But there’s a gap in the collection, a gap that Spencer rather not talk about. A gap where, for the first time since they met, Spencer and Y/N were separated. Sitting in jail, all Spencer could think of was the personal mental prison that Y/N must have confined herself too.

They don’t like talking about the gap, but he knows they have too. Spencer knows that Y/N is proud of him, she tells him that everyday. Proud of him for keeping up with therapy, proud of him for letting go of the little things that he can’t control, proud of him for trusting her with his secrets and fears. It’s the strangest thing, to have someone be proud of you for just living.

“We’re going to need a bigger wall,” Spencer says, hoping that his attempt at referencing pop culture would land. Y/N stops to turn to Spencer, who in the moonlight that drips in from the window, looks much younger than he really is.

“Did you just make a pop culture reference that’s not from, like, 300 years ago?” Y/N says, her brow upturned in a quizzical stare.

“Come on, Y/N, you love when I recite all Sir Walter Raleigh to you,” Spencer says, reaching up to tickle Y/N sides, causing her to giggle and run up the rest of the stairs.

“Spencer! You know that I’m too ticklish,” Y/N says in between short laughs and gasps for air. She plops down on the bed, dragging Spencer down with her. He lays his head down on her chest and like a Rube Goldberg machine, her fingers come up and tangle themselves in his hair.

“Maybe our New Year’s Resolution should be to get some more exercise, Spence. Your heart is beating faster than mine and that run from the steps to our room is like a good 10 feet,” Y/N jokes as she continues scratching Spencer’s scalp lulling him into a peaceful, sleepy state.

“Two things, baby, one, we don’t exercise and two, that’s not why my heart is beating so fast, I think it has something to do with the beautiful girl laying so close to me,” Spencer murmurs quietly.

“Hmm, you certainly know how to charm a girl, even like 13 years later,”

“Actually it’s, 13 years, 7 months, 17 days, 17 hours, 58 minutes and 31 seconds,” Spencer says with a quick glance at his watch.

“And I’ve loved every single minute of it,” Y/N says, reaching up to sneak a pillow under Spencer’s head. She moves to get out of bed, much to Spencer’s displeasure.

“No, no, Y/N you’re so warm and I’m freezing,” Spencer whines, shifting so he can look at his wife, who has shrugged off her thermal shirt and jeans.

“And who’s fault is that?” Y/N chides. Spencer, almost bashful at her teasing, attempts to hide his blush with the pillow that rests under his head.

“I only turn the heat all the way down at night so we’re forced to cuddle for body heat,” Spencer says, his voice muffled by the pillow.

“So you say,” Y/N tells Spencer, sitting down back on the bed. She pulls on Spencer’s legs, dragging him down the bed.

“Come on lazy boy, get your PJs on,” Y/N orders. Spencer, who under Penelope’s less than pure supervision, had enough shots to make up for all the college parties that he missed. There’s happy drunks, forgetful drunks, and then there're sleepy drunks.

Spencer stands in front of the mirror, inspecting his body. The low, yellow lamp light casts shadows on his naked torso. He’s filled out a little bit since they’ve started dating, especially within the last few months of Spencer’s healing. Y/N knew that it’s a sore spot for him, but there’s something about the way that Spencer’s dress pants sit tightly against his thighs or the way his shirt clings to his stomach that just makes him look so much older. Both of them, including their bodies, have changed so much since 13 years ago. Or 13 years, 7 months, 17 days, 18 hours, 5 minutes and 12 seconds ago. They’ve grown up together, and now Y/N can’t wait to grow old together.

But the look in his eyes is not pride over his growth or confidence over his physique. It’s confusion. Spencer stares at himself like he’s an unsolvable puzzle. Y/N knows he must hate that; Spencer hates things that he can’t find an answer to. Y/N walks up behind him, lacing her finger together so her arms clasp against his waist. For a moment, Spencer flinches. Even her gentlest touches and softest kisses can’t wash away the fear of much harsher contact. Their eyes meet in the mirror, but Y/N can feel that Spencer’s not looking at her. After all these years, she can still see the terrified young man who brazenly kissed her in her car in the middle of a rainstorm. After all these years, Spencer is still the only man she ever loved.

“Spencer,” Y/N says quietly. His name off her lips is more tender than any pet name in existence.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m being immature, it’s just,” Spencer closes his eyes, trying to focus himself in the present. It’s something that his therapist suggested. In moments of distress, find your anchor. Luckily for Spencer, his anchor has been his anchor for quite awhile.

“You can tell, I’m not going to judge you,” Y/N says, her lips leaving small kisses on his exposed shoulders.

“It’s just I thought this whole nightmare of prison was behind me. Therapy has been helping, I’m better on cases and I love teaching,” Spencer says, the pain in his voice leaking out.

Y/N doesn’t say anything, instead she guides Spencer to sit on the edge of their bed. She rubs her hand down his back, tracing his spine and around the freckles that collect on his right shoulder.

“I thought that the emotional healing would be the hardest part, I mean it is, but physically, I don’t recognize myself. I can imagine you don’t either,” Spencer says, he turns to lay on the bed, bringing his feet up to his chest in a textbook self-protective position.

“Spence, your body is gonna change, baby. God, mine has changed so much since we met,” Spencer gives Y/N a confused look, like he’s not thoroughly convinced by her explanation.

“It has Spencer. We’re not 22 years old anymore, we’re going to be like 35 in a couple of months. But you know, this is something we can work on together, I’ve gone my whole life not loving the skin I’m in. But being with you makes it easier, Spence.” Y/N says, running her fingers across the bridge of Spencer’s nose and down to his lips, that always a ridiculously gorgeous shade of pink. Spencer doesn’t say much, he’s still trapped deep inside his mind.

“I don’t know how you put up with me and all my antics, Y/N”

“You do my taxes every year,” Y/N jokes, making an effort to kiss every freckle and dipple on the expanse of Spencer’s back.

Spencer turns in the bed so he’s facing Y/N, he cups her face all the way from her ear to her jaw. It’s an intimate gesture that somehow is more loving and vulnerable than saying “I love you,”

“You know you make me fearless, Y/N,” Spencer tells her, not blinking because he doesn’t want to miss out on any more time looking into her eyes.

“You say that everyday Spencer Reid,” Y/N responds, letting herself melt into the touch. She grabs onto his wrist, physically telling him to not let go.

“I have a lot of days to make up for,” Spencer says, solemnly.

“It’s not making it up if it’s the rest of our life, Spencer. Besides, there’s no one I’d rather spend New Year’s Day cleaning up all those bottles with,”

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

**Taglist** (Comment to be Added or Send in An Ask)

@calm-and-doctor @shemarmooresfedora

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader fluff #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid you #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fics #spencer reid fanfiction

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equestrianwritingsstuff · 4 years ago

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Fugitives

Somehow inspired by @chicken0mcnugget and her sister and my sister's more than lovely camping adventure. Somehow, I don't know how. Maybe part 2 if I write it (no promises) will match up to my wild imagination's interpretation of a camping trip. Perhaps, it is a possibility.

Warnings: collapse, passing out, field medicine, blood, gunshot wounds, screaming, gagging roughly for own good, intensive description of possibly gorey wound care, betrayal, some language, going into shock, IV and needles.

"Stop," Villain wheezed, sinking to his shaking knees. "I-i need-" cough, "I need help."

Hero stopped running and looked over her shoulder to see Villain half-collapsed on the ground, holding his abdomen.

"We both need help, Villain. Now get up and run. They'll be here soon," Hero trotted back to her nemesis.

"Mmnh," Villain gurgled, his face an eerie shade of pale yellow. He swayed from his kneeling position, keeling sideways, eyes rolling back-

"Oh my gosh," Hero caught Villain as he fell limp into her arms.

"Wake up!" Hero patted Villain's burning cheek repeatedly. "Damn it Villain," she groaned when he didn't wake.

Hero felt at loss. They were running away from authorities in the middle of the woods, exhausted and sore, with no shelter, water, and food in sight.

And now she had an unconscious villain to deal with.

Hero removed the hands placed so precariously on his stomach to reveal a spot of bloodstained fabric. Hero silently cursed to herself and rolled up his shirt.

The sight made her stomach drop. He had not one, but two bullet wounds in his stomach. One was quite deep and bleeding profoundly whereas the other still had the champagne bullet casing, blocking the precious crimson plasma's flow.

He was shot, Hero stressed to herself, trying to figure out what to do. She vaguely remebered a series of gunshots, but Villain promised that he was okay.

And now...

Hero stopped her thoughts suddenly and stood up, cradling Villain tenderly. He was bigger, without a doubt, but between her fitness and touch of super strength, she succeeded.

"I got you," she whispered to the sleeping villain before taking off at a lopsided jog.

"Villain what are you doing here?" Hero asked, approaching the tall, leather-cladden figure.

"Saving you," Villain replied, running to close the distance and grabbing Hero's arm. "Your team, they set you up. We need to go!"

"What are you talking about?" Hero chuckled, easily shaking Villain's hand off.

"They are-"

A click.

A scuffle of feet.

"Well this, my friends, is a win-win," an all too familiar chortle sounded.

Villain spun around, stepping back to stand parallel to Hero's shoulder. His breaths were hitched, proof of his nervous anticipation.

Hero, on the other hand, was mystified by the scene. Her hands trembled as beads of sweat started to form around her amber hair line. Realization flooded into every vein and all she wanted to do was sink to the ground and give up.

They betrayed her.

Her team betrayed her.

Leader stepped into the single light spot in the warehouse. Even though it was mid-day, the shadows made it look like it was night.

"We have our darling Hero here, and her nemesis. Arrest them," Leader ordered.

Villain lunged at Leader, going for his neck. More scuffles of feet determined that there were more heroes to fight off, but injuring, or killing, Leader would slow them down.

Villain and Leader fell to the ground with a grunt, punching, and hitting, and lashing until Villain was able to smack the golden boy's head against the concrete floor.

Villain discarded his prey and hurried to assist Hero in taking down two muscular, lithe heroes. They were twins, evident in their matching black ponytails.

"You know the pay for your head," one sneered, licking her bloodied lip. "Is more than what I had to pay for my house."

"Hmm," the other laughed. "Not only that, but you are on every 'wanted' billboard in the city."

Hero said nothing, just kept striking punch after punch- most of the time missing.

Then, as if on impulse, Villain grabbed Hero's shoulder and led her to a window. "Hang onto me," He said and closed his eyes.

Then there was a shot... then two... a brief hiss and then they were in the forest...

"Villain are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I promise."

Hero stumbled across an abandoned cabin. A moldy door guarded the entrance and windows were bashed in, but it supplied the dire need for shelter.

Inside, cupboards hung lazily on rusted hinges, creaking as they swayed with the cool draft. A rat-infested couch was hidden in a damp corner with moss growing at the bottom. The only somewhat useful piece of furniture was the metal table in the center.

It was odd to be accompanied by such a modern implement when the rest of the trashy building looked like it belonged in a landfill. Either way, Hero sat on the table, testing its strength. When it passed the test, Hero laid Villain upon it softly and began to inpect the bullet wounds again. The bad one stopped bleeding, but it still looked increasingly painful even though Villain was still unconscious.

Satisfied that Villain wouldn't die, yet, Hero started to search the minimally stocked cupboards. She found a handful of bungee cords, tiny nails as if the former homeowners were into hobby crafts, a mason jar, a metal rod, a various collection a thread, some sort of hemp material, and expired medicines.

She grabbed the nails and thread and walked back to Villain. It was far from ideal to use the nails to stitch, but it was all she had and would have to make do.

Hero tied the thread right under the head, praying that Villain wouldn't get tetanus from the rust particles, and started to sew the larger wound together.

As by some misdeed sent from hell, Villain awoke, screaming like a hungry baby bird. Hero left the nail half-dangling in his flesh and dug her hand into Villain's mouth.

"Shhhh," she cooed. "Someone could be out there. We are apparently fugitives now, remember? Remember the fight?"

It seemed to drain all of Villain's energy, but he nodded. Yet, the second Hero let go of his mouth, he started to curl into himself, whimpering.

"Knock that off," Hero chided and stretched Villain back out. "I need to access that wound."

Villain mewled, but didn't move.

"Okay..." Hero breathed and with a quivering hand, pushed the needle into the ruin skin. Villain hissed, abs flexing, but didn't holler until the head started to pull through Villain's skin.

Oh boy, did he scream. It was like a dying cougar, wild and ragged. Hero, ignoring the wordless pleas for mercy, laced the nail through. It made a small puncture wound, but it had to be done.

"I'm sorry!" Hero rushed over to Villain's head, gathering it into nervously shaking arms that were fueled by adrenaline. Villain's eyes started to glaze over and slip above his eyelids.

She couldn't keep doing this. Every pass, partnered with a screech, and then rushing to comfort Villain would take too much precious time.

Time that could be spent getting as far away as they could from the ravaging heroes.

Thinking briskly, Hero grabbed the metal rod with the tiniest bungee she could find, and appeared again at Villain's head.

"I'm so sorry about this," Hero apologized, and forced the rod into Villain's limply hanging mouth. The villain's eye widened and darted frantically around, searching for the cause of his discomfort.

Hero ignored the obvious signals of distress and pulled Villain's head up. She looped the center of the bungee to one side and then took one strand to do the same on the other. She then attached the hooks together and laid Villain's head down.

A pillow would also be more than ideal. The inevitable thrashing of the head would more likely than not cause some sort of head injury- whether substantial or not.

But Villain would have to do without.

Hero went back to the gaping wound on his stomach and resumed her threading... in... out... in... out...

Everytime, the nail head would have to be roughly pulled through, and everytime more tender skin would rip. Villain thrashed, smacking his head against the unrelenting metal and kicking out with his legs. Hero tried to get by with just sitting on his legs, but the flailing arms also proved to be a problem. She got up, once again leaving the needle haphazardly in the villain's wound, and returned with the hemp fabric.

She tied each wrist and each ankle with the scratchy material, snug. Villain who was resisting the friendly torture immediately fell back into his newfound restraints, sniffing pitifully.

"I'm sorry," Hero tried to reason, but her delirious and exhausted ward was beyond negotiations.

Hero sighed and continued to tend to Villain's wound. Villain pulled back as much as the taut restraints allowed; he bit down against the metal gag until his mouth begun to bleed. Hero winced, concerned that he broke a tooth.

When the first hole was completely stitched up, Hero cut the azure colored thread and strung some more out. She retied it to the nail and set them down against the table.

Hero noticed that the table was beginning to get slick with blood and sweat.

She then examined the bullet. The other one must've fell out when Villain teleported the pair. The dark beige color shone compared to the deep mahogany blood. Hero took two nails out and placed them on both sides of the bullet like chopsticks and tried to use the leverage to launch it.

She succeeded and the bullet just barely brushed against her ear, but the wound began to bleed heavily. Hero groaned and shoved her hand into the bleeding waterfall to staunch it.

Her ears started to ring as her heart pumped faster. Villain's body slumped against the table, his face going pale. Hero gasped for breathing, the wires in her brain not connecting. She didn't know what to do.

She messed things up, now Villain was bleeding out again.

Hero removed one hand and tried to tear a piece of the hunter green shirt she was wearing off; but she couldn't, the cotton material was stubborn.

"Shit," Hero gasped, walls of anxiety closing in around her. The air suddenly felt so heavy as if a furnace was just installed. Her hands trembled, not knowing what to do.

"Think Hero, think," Hero muttered outloud. If she released pressure, Villain would surely bleed out.

Hero leaned all her weight onto the wound. Villain gasped, trying to crawl away. His skin was clammy and unnaturally pale- even more blanch than before. His eyes kept rolling up into his skull before returning to a more neutral place.

His chest heaved in irregular breaths as his stomach convulsed...

He was going into shock.

Hero groaned and grabbed the end of her shirt and brought it to her mouth. She bit it and ripped it all the way to her ribcage. She replaced her sticky hands with the cloth and stuffed it into the wound. It slowed down on bleeding, and the shirt was thick enough to give Hero some time to help with the shock.

She ran to the cupboards and found a bucket. Bringing that over to Villain, she elevated his legs. He was gasping for air now and didn't seem entirely conscious.

She then took off his jeans and laid them over his legs. She remembered learning about shock in her early heroic classes- keep the victim warm and remove restrictive clothing.

She left his rolled up shirt and leather jacket on.

His pulse was insanely weak and too fast as if he was intoxicated. Hero pursed her lips and gently tapped Villain awake.

"Stay awake," she pleaded. "I know it's hard."

Villain lips quivered and he coughed up some thick, starchy liquid.

Blood.

Hero turned Villain to his side and allowed him to spill the scarlet color. All the while, she kept a close eye on the wound. The shirt was nearly drenched.

I could tie a tourniquet, Hero realized and gathered some of the hemp. She deftly wrapped it around Villain's mid torso and pulled it taut.

Stepping back from her work, Hero knew that she had to call someone. A hospital was a no, even with Villain in shock. She could give him a blood transfusion...

If there was adequate IV lines.

Hero rushed to the cupboards once again. It was a long shot, but it was the only thing she could do.

Find an IV line, She told herself- the request was weak though, no one could find an IV in an abandoned cabin.

Find an IV.

And that she did.

Not even wondering what use the prior homeowners had for an IV, Hero inserted the needle in her vein, immediately filled with gratitude for her O type blood and attached the other end into Villain's elbow.

She gave him enough blood until some of his color returned and he fell into an uneasy sleep.

Hero finished stitching the wound. Villain remained sleeping the whole time. She then removed the rod from his mouth and stuffed some more of her shirt on both sides of his mouth where the blood origin was.

Finally, when all the work was done, Hero laid next to Villain and wrapped an arm around his chest. He melted into the comfort, whimpering silently. Hero smiled and closed her eyes, asleep immediately.

She didn't notice the security camera in the corner of the building. The one with the blinking red light.

#villain whumpee #hero caretaker #injured villain #whump #whump drabble #unconscious whumpee #my writing #writing #heroes and villains #betrayal #blood tw #field medicine #tw gunshot #collapse #passing out

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writingsfromhome · 3 years ago

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Water under the Bridge (Josslyn II)

A/N: Okay! Here it is!!!! This was fun and made my heart hurt a little but maybe I’m just being emotional. And can you guys believe it’s been over a year since I posted Josslyn?? Where has the time gone?? I don’t think we’re on the sacred timeline anymore........Anyway thank you anon who suggested this storyline, and hope y’all enjoy! <3

Josslyn (Original)

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We’re going to have the best weekends evr, Regan texts me even though she’s just in the other room. Schedules were released for our summer semester and Regan and I had managed to get Fridays off. Summer was going to be so fun, and after two years doing college together we were experts at managing our workload to have fun on the weekends--even if that meant sacrificing a few nights’ sleep.

We’ll make summer our bitch, I text back. I hear a chuckle from her room.

Help me pick out a fit? she texts. I want to tell her Adam would love her in whatever, but I head to her room instead and watch her try on a dozen outfits before settling on the second. I tease her about Adam--they were going steady since first year, but she still got so nervous about him sometimes. Adam’s college was a train ride away so he would come down at least one weekend a month.

As for my own love life, there’d been no one steady. I did the whole hooking up and dating scene in first year but I was romantically burnt out by second. Nowadays, I could go home with someone if I chose to, but I also didn’t mind if I didn’t. My active endeavor to find a boyfriend had stopped when I realized I was trying to fill a gap. Instead, I was learning to be happy on my own.

“Are you sure I can’t convince you?” Regan asks. She was taking the train to Adam’s college and staying with him, there was this big start-of-summer party and she’d been trying to convince me for weeks.

“I don’t feel like being a third wheel,” I tell her honestly.

“You don’t have to!” She goes over her one argument again. “Gaelle’s roommate isn’t even back until next week so she has a spare room! She said you should come. Plus,” she ties her hair up, “it’s the weekend before the semester starts so have some fun.”

I make a noise, and she turns to look at me, totally judging me. It makes me laugh. “That’s why my version of fun is to.binge Netflix and-”

“Y/N!” She groans.

“Fine! I’ll go.”

Two words that would change everything.

***

By the time we get to the campus, Regan and I had come up with a dozen things we could potentially do this summer. I’m high on excitement as we meet up with Gaelle, and the three of us head to Adam’s place.

The sun is almost set by the time we leave, most of the sky is dark but a streak of orange stays stubbornly on the horizon. I pause to take pictures before we’re rushing off.

We approach the frat house--if you could call it that. It was half glass with a very modern structure. The greek symbol on the side of the house was the only indicator it wasn’t a millionaire’s summer-house.

“Since when did frat houses get so modern?” I ask. “This is...nice.”

“Wait ‘til you see inside,” Adam says. And he was right, even the drinks were fancier with their own guy behind the bar...although he was taking the occasional shot and getting progressively drunk.

We settle in an area close to the music and get swept up into the party atmosphere. Some people were beyond drunk already and I enjoyed the slight buzz of the drink in my hand. The views from inside with floor-to-ceiling windows were amazing.

Pretty soon, Adam and Regan break off. We move towards the centre of the party where the typical party shenanigans were happening. We tip back our drinks and pretty soon I’m straddling the line between tipsy and drunk. I find a cute boy with blonde hair and deep brown eyes and makeout with him until he gets too handsy.

“Ugh!” I give him one last shove and look for Gaelle but I’d lost her too. I search for a bathroom but they’re either occupied or have a lineup. This was a huge ass house, one of the bedrooms had to have one.

I open the first door to shouting.

“It’s called locking the door!” I shout drunkenly as I close it. The next room actually is locked, and the next one isn’t but I wish it was. “Eugh.”

I climb up to the topmost level, three doors--one was locked with the sound of people inside and the second is a bathroom. I was grateful people hadn’t made it up this far.

As I wash up, and touch up the mascara that was crusting under my eyes the door shakes as someone bangs on it from the other side.

“Dip! What the fuck are you doing in there? Everyone’s waiting for you!”

My heart pounds at the sudden noise and the deep voice demanding me to open up. The rush of adrenaline sobers me for a moment as I rush to open the door, “Sorry I didn’t realise anyone was...waiting.”

My words slow down and freeze altogether as I realise the fist banging on the door belonged to...him. Harry. He seems just as surprised as me, straightening up before a smile slowly inches across his face, it was almost sweet bordering on predatory. “Y/N!”

“Hi,” I say awkwardly. There was a lot of history and also not at all. I was also, I decide, too drunk for this. Act sober, this is not the night to run into this fucker.

“You-you’re the last person I was expecting to--excuse me it’s... good to see you! You look--you look as beautiful as ever!”

The events from high school that created this tense history between Harry and I was one of the worst things possible to happen to teenage Y/N. The thing is though, that I’d totally bounced back after I had decided he could fuck himself. Although it was awkward seeing him every day until graduation, it made me tougher. I credit it for making me so casual about relationships now...I stopped expecting so much of the boys I saw.

But leaving high school behind, my world expanded with college, I realised how childish it had all been: I’d had a fling with a player, and he’d played the field...It wasn’t that deep. But seeing him now, It made me aware in a way I wasn’t for a long time. Maybe what they said about distance had some merit. Or maybe I was just buzzed.

“Thanks...I wasn’t expecting you either.”

“You don’t uh, you don’t go here do you? I’ve never seen you around.”

“No,” I look out to the small hall but there’s no one there. The room that was previously locked is slightly ajar carrying male voices. “Adam goes here, I’m...with Regan.”

“Ah, Regan.” He smiles. “You’re still two peas in a pod?”

“Obviously,” The stiffness eases at the mention of my best friend. “So...can I get out of here?”

“Yeah sorry,” he moves aside so I can step into the hall. “Um, we’re playing video games in here room if you...you’re probably not interested.”

I clear my throat, Harry was playing video games when there was a party downstairs? I was curious, that maybe he changed.

“Oh,” he laughs and the dimples I adored make an appearance. “I’ve still got it! My frat just hosts too many parties for me to keep track.”

I guess I said that out loud, I bite my tongue but it really has a life of it’s own. “Did you jussay you still got it?” Oh my god, I was teasing him already. What about Harry made me absolute putty.

“Yeah,” he looks almost bashful. “Uhm, go easy I’m a little nervous here Y/N.”

I don’t know what to say to that, I bite my lip so nothing stupid comes out.

“So you’re just here for the night?” He carries on.

“Staying over with a friend,”

“A fr-” he cuts himself off, pressing his lips together. I realize I’m staring and look away.

“I should go-”

“Wait I-wait uh, how have you been? I haven’t seen you in years.”

“Yea,” I play with the rings on my fingers. “M’good, great. College’s a lot better than high school.”

“It’s not even comparable,” Harry says as he leans his shoulder against the wall. He looks perfectly placed there, and a tipsy voice flashes inappropriate thoughts into my head. “So...any...boyfriends?”

“Um,” that was direct. “No. No, I’m trying out being single...”

“Did something happen?” His expression is still casual but he holds himself rigid.

“No? A girl can’t be single?”

“Sure but someone like you...I’m just surprised.”

“Whatever that means,” I roll my eyes and head past him to go down but he blocks my way.

“Wait, I didn’t mean to offend you...” his voice dies out as I cross my arms. “I also didn’t mean to block you in.”

He steps aside and it feels painful to me but I take the small steps towards the staircase. One part of me--I blame the tipsy stupid part, wants to kiss him just to see if there was still something there, see if anything’s changed. The other was listing all the reasons this was an awful idea, to top it off he was a proven player, has broken my trust once before, and went to a school almost 2 hours from mine.

“Y/N,” Harry’s gruff voice says from behind me. My feet turn without permission and he’s right behind me. “M’sorry. Let me start over.”

I glance at his lips, damn. I can’t meet his eye suddenly. Oh god, I was still pretty tipsy. My mind short-circuits and all I can do is turn back to walk away, down the two sets of stairs, past sweaty bodies and loose limbs. In a great coincidence I bump into Gaelle in what looks like a game room.

“Harry goes here?” I ask--shout at her immediately. Her eyes widen, something passes over her face. “Was no one going to tell me he was going to be here?”

“I’m sorry!” She shouts. “I forgot you two had history!”

“I just wish I was prepared,” I say and she doesn’t hear, I just shake my head when she asks me to repeat. I needed another drink, and Regan. Maybe she could remind me why I stopped caring about him.

As I set off to find her, I’m reminded again how stupid this all was. High school was an ancient dream, we were all different people. I was a different person.

But even though what happened in high school was petty and juvenile, I remember how Harry made me feel. How it felt when we were together--even if it was a joke for him back then, I couldn’t forget the feeling of being seen. Of having arms to fall into, even if I knew they weren’t permanent.

“Regan!” I find her sitting on the dining table while Adam spoke with someone else. Her eyes alight and she waves me over. “I saw him! He...he goes here!”

“Who?” Confusion strings her brows together.

“Harry! From...you know Harry! He was upstairs! I--I didn’t know how to act.”

“Shit Harry! I forgot he went here!”

“You knew?” I throw my hands up.

“I didn’t think it was a big deal! He’s a dick but that was high school?”

“No I-” I sigh. “You’re supposed to tell me he’s still a dick! I saw him and it just got...complicated.”

Regan slides off the table and pulls me into a side hug, we can also hear each other better. “You’re a big kid now, do whatever you want Y/N. Tell him off, kiss his face, take revenge, who the fuck cares? We’re taking the train two hours home after this anyway!”

She had a point. But still...he couldn’t have changed much from the boy who hurt me.

“Adam hangs out with him sometimes,” Regan continues. “Apparently he’s not as bad as high school. He’s...mellowed out.”

“Unreal,” I roll my eyes. Adam was just covering for his friend. We hear a cheer go up behind us and Regan bulges her eyes as two guys help Adam up on his hands to do a keg stand.

Regan swears and heads back to him. I walk away, somehow feeling more and less confused after talking to Regan--do I go back up and see what this leftover emotion was, or ignore it as a drunken need for comfort?

But it’s like the decision is made for me when a hand wraps around my arm as I move from the dining area to the kitchen. I already know it’s him before I turn.

“Can we talk?” he asks. I nod and his grip loosens, slipping down into my palm. “Upstairs?” He motions to the staircase and we climb up the two flights. This time he leads me into one of the locked doors and although I’ve never been here, I’d been in some version of this room before. It’s familiar.

I ignore the ache when he lets go of my hand once we’re inside. I set my drink down on his desk and perch on the window ledge, it’s not big enough to sit on but has enough space for a few of his books and a speaker. His room’s pretty near, but then again Harry was never messy.

“So what do you want-” I start just as he says “Let me get this off my chest.”

“Go ahead,” I cross my arms before uncrossing them, and then crossing them again. With the way he ruffles his hair and crosses to the door and back, he seems just as nervous.

“You can leave at any time. I just want to say I was an asshole, I still kind of am sometimes. And I’m sorry for what I did to you. I know it’s like what--2 years late but all that with...Josslyn and all that...I’m sorry.”

Hearing her name makes me want to grind my teeth but I let the feeling pass. I reach for my drink instead to give me something to do. “It’s all water under the bridge.”

“Really?” Harry regards me suspiciously. “Because the way you were talking to me out there...”

“You’re just you,” I shrug. “Harry Styles, player and sweet-talker. I was just guarding myself against that.”

“Because of what happened between us?”

“No...maybe. I don’t know. But honestly, I’m not upset with you. It feels like an eternity ago. I guess it’s just self-preservation.”

“I guess,” he echoes. “So where does that leave us? If you’re all self-preserved?”

I eye him but he cracks a smile, he was teasing me. “It doesn’t have to leave us anywhere,” I snort. “We’re water under the bridge Harry...”

“My parents split,” he says suddenly and I’m reeling with the direction he’s taken. I open my mouth, and close it when nothing comes out. “Sorry, I know that’s random it’s just I never really talked to anyone about how they were rarely home and when they were they were always arguing a-and we spoke about it a lot. About our families so I just...”

“I’m sorry to hear that, do they still live in town?” I ask, wanting to put my hand on his or show him I cared but they stay glued to my drink.

“My mom moved into the city, it’s closer to her job and since I’m not living at home anymore it doesn’t really matter...”

“You still go home?” I ask.

“I don’t even know where home is?” He looks at me then, and the look in his eyes chips at the wall I’d been trying to build all night. Things had changed, for him.

“Are you--do you have someone to talk to?”

His laugh is dry, “They split last summer, convinced me to talk to some therapist. I don’t know if it really helped I think I’m actually better off. They’re better off and I just feel...free.”

I don’t know what to say to that so I stay quiet. He looks back up at me then, cracks his knuckles, before perching on his bed. “I’m just--sorry I’m not telling you that so you can feel sorry for me-”

“I don’t I just-”

“No it’s okay I just want to tell you that because you knew about that stuff. But I’m trying to tell you I’m not the same guy. Not completely, I’m just trying to tell you things changed and so have I.”

It echoes the same sentiment I had earlier in his conversation, and I remember Regan said he’s mellowed out. Maybe it was true. It still didn’t mean I was going to get together with him anytime soon but my heart hurts for him. I walk up to where he sits, he watches me with a steady gaze.

In the quiet, I hear the party going on outside the window, three floors below us. If I listen really carefully, I can hear sounds coming from the video game being played next door. In the stillness, I reach for Harry’s hand and he obliges, grasping mine.

“I wish I could...help you with the hurt. Not knowing where to call home is pretty shitty.”

“Don’t worry about me Y/N,” he pastes on his classic smile and I return one for his sake. It was getting heavy in here. “I’m just happy I got to talk to you. And I just found out you don’t hate me so...” he holds our intertwined hands and shakes it. “woo hoo!” I laugh as we let go.

“I guess I should go back to the party.”

“Yeah, okay. I won’t keep you.”

“Okay,” I’m a little stung he doesn’t suggest I stay a little longer. Maybe it was all in my head, maybe his intentions really were to make amends and that’s it. I pick my drink up from his windowsill and move to the door. I glance back before I go, he’s laying on his bed deep in thought, gazing up at the ceiling. I close the door behind me.

***

I wake the next morning, surprisingly well. I can’t say the same for Gaelle who’d passed me her keys at some point and told me she’d be home late. I spent the rest of the party trailing Regan until I decided I should just go crash. Harry hadn’t come out to find me, and I tried to hide the sour feeling, excusing myself early.

“Fuck me,” Gaelle croaks from her bed when I step into her open doorway.

“How about coffee, and pancakes?” I ask, returning the favor of being able to sleep here.

“I’ll take it,” she flops back into bed. I busy myself with measuring coffee and water, my thoughts occupied with everything Harry and I had been through since we last saw each other. I demonized him for so long, humanizing him is harder to swallow.

What he’d done to me was shitty, there was no denying. But had he really changed? And most importantly, why did I care so much? It’s not like he was the one.

My phone rings: Regan. She’s talking so fast I hardly hear her, only really understand that it was a party ritual to gather in the student centre the morning after a big party. Endless coffee and free food seemed to be the general consensus for a party cure.

“I don’t know if I can make it there,” Gaelle says when I tell her. “I was hoping for pancakes at home.”

“I already put the coffee on but I’m hauling your ass there if you’re not up in 5. Our train leaves after noon anyway and it’s closer to the college.”

Slowly but surely Gaelle emerges and we make our way, spotting Regan easily as the bright spot in a sea of college students in PJs and last night’s clothing. She’s the only one fully dressed, with a full face of makeup on.

“I didn’t drink that much,” she shrugs when we settle around her and Adam’s friends. “Unlike some people.” She looks pointedly at Adam who’s slumped where he sits. I remember the kegger and laugh.

Life soon flows back into the group around us as does the coffee and breakfast foods. I’m relaxed in the environment until I look down the tables to where Harry stands, looking back at me. He raises a hand and I do the same until an extremely tall angel--she was literally wearing a halo, probably from last night-walks up to him and wraps her hands around his waist. She says something to him and he tears his gaze away.

I look down at my cup immediately, my cheeks burning with humiliation. I’d been thinking about him all this time, thinking about how it might feel if I kissed him and of course he had a girlfriend. She never came up, but he never said he didn’t either. He didn’t make any moves on me yesterday, if I looked at it he only made an attempt to talk. Sure he was flirty but that was just Harry and I...I was a fool. I was such a fool. Things may have changed for him but he hadn’t. He was still the same Harry who chose Josslyn over me. He would always have a girlfriend, I was just the girl from his past who he could trust. I couldn’t say the same about him.

“What’s wrong,” my best friend nudges me. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I don’t know,” I look into her concerned eyes. “I’m just going to--I’ll be right back.”

I head out and find the closest washroom. The tears are instant and I let myself cry--out of frustration, humiliation, or some twisted sense of betrayal...it was all the same for me. I check the time, I just had to hold myself together and avoid Harry for another 2 hours before we were back on the train home. I would tell Regan everything then.

*** Three weeks later ***

“If Adam’s over later...” Regan trails off. She’s sprawled on my bed while I sit in my desk chair trying to read one more chapter before I close the books for the week.

“I have my earplugs ready and a second place to stay,” I roll my eyes. “I already told Kiara I might crash on her couch.”

“I owe you,” she jumps back up.

“You owe me like, 7 and a half.”

“7 and a half?”

I’m about to answer but a knock on our door has her racing out. I try to ignore the voices, I just had two more pages I had to get through--the joy of summer classes.

“Y/N?: Regan’s voice is a whisper. “We’re going now but...you have a guest. If you want me to kick his ass I totally can though.”

Standing behind her is Harry. I focus on him, yes it really was him. Why was he here?

“Harry?” I sound confused because I am. He’s wearing a plain white t-shirt and jeans, and he’d traveled 2 hours just to get here.

“He wouldn’t leave me alone,” Adam says louder as they leave the room. “I’m sorry Y/N...”

“What is this?” I ask. My feelings are at war with each other, I was still feeling slighted by the last time we saw each other but seeing his face was also an exciting surprise.

“I wanted to see you,” Harry says nervously. He still stays at my bedroom door.

“You can come in...” I stand up and realize I was wearing an oversize t-shirt and the scruffiest PJ shorts I owned. “Phones have cameras now, you didn’t have to come all this way.”

He shrugs, taking one step in. “I liked seeing you in person last time. But I feel like we left it wrong.”

He knows I saw him, what conclusions I must have come to. It wouldn’t be that hard. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We talked it out.”

He comes to life, “Don’t play dumb Y/N I know you saw me with...I know what you thought and-”

“Did you really come all this way to explain that you had a girlfriend? Like, three weeks later?”

“No that’s the thing-”

“Because that’s kind of dumb. And unnecessary-”

“No listen!” He says a bit louder so I do. “The thing is she wasn’t my girlfriend...we’d hung out a few times but she saw me at the caf and got clingy. We’re not an item honestly, I can’t remember the last time I had a girlfriend-.”

“So why are you here?” My voice is higher than usual. I was confused, and upset, and I wanted him to leave. This was starting to sound like Josslyn part 2.

“You know why I’m here. Y/N I’ve been nothing but a dick to you and I know I don’t deserve you but I really like you. I want to clear the air, and ask you if you can see something here I...”

He trails off when he notices the tears trailing down my cheek. It’s just too much for me, as I finally face the emotions from that weekend. I’d shoved them aside after Regan had gotten onto the train worried her and Adam were headed towards a breakup. I’d put aside what happened and never thought about it. But my heart broke a little that morning.

I knew what I knew: maybe Harry and I weren’t good for each other but we were good with each other. In an attempt not to get hurt I’ve been distancing myself from romantic connections--I found more of myself in doing this, but a part of me was missing without exploring it.

Harry moved closer until we’re nearly touching. I wipe my tears with my shoulder and we stand still on the hardwood floors of my room. An eternity passes before he reaches out to wipe the tear caught in my lashes. I close my eyes to his touch, scared of how much I wanted it.

“Y/N,” my name is a breath on his lips and it makes my heart stutter. My eyes open in slow motion, seeing him so vulnerable right in front of me, and suddenly things speed up and we’re reaching for each other; two waves crashing until they become one.

***

I don’t know how much time had passed in minutes, Adam and Regan are still out but Harry and I had fallen together and crashed apart so many times that I’m dizzy with it.

“You’re wonderful,” he says as we face each other, our noses just nearly touching. He trails a finger down my cheek. “Just...incredible.”

I feel the flush spread through me, “Great vocab Styles. We’re really using the big words.”

“Words are sort of hard right now,” he grins. “My brain’s all mush.”

I laugh, “Not much different to its usual state!”

“I knew you were going to say that!” he tries to reach for me but I skip off the bed with a laugh. “Come back.”

“I have to pee,” I slip on pants and can’t stop grinning the whole time I’m away. When I come back in, the blissful smile on his face tells me everything I need to know. I climb over him but he stops me in place, a knee on either side of his hips.

“I’m happiest when I’m with you Y/N,” he says, his voice roughened with emotion. “I think I always was. Younger Harry liked to self-sabotage.”

I bend down and my hair slips around us. The way he looks at me makes my insides mush. And even though I have proof of why I shouldn’t trust him, he’s here. In my bed. Miles away from where he would be if he hadn’t traveled all this way to see me. And that means something.

“I’m glad you’ve done some growing,” I say to him quietly.

“I had to,” he says softly. “I couldn’t have you like I do now if I hadn’t.”

“I guess we’ve both grown,” I brush a curl from his forehead.

“I know, old Y/N would have punched me if I showed up unexpectedly.”

“Rightly so,” I grin. He smiles back, brushing my hair behind my ear, back over my shoulder. He props himself on his elbow to kiss the shoulder he’d bared. It’s simple, and sweet, but it’s enough to unravel me all over again. And he knows it.

“When does Regan get home?”

“We might have another half hour,” I grin.

“Let’s not waste it,” he mumbles into my skin.

I agree.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #series #harry styles series #harry styles fic #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #writingsfromhome #college!harry #I think the idea of growing separately as a young adult #and coming together again as more mature versions of yourself is what #gets me #or maybe I'm emotional because I'm a year older soon #and it's got me thinking about being in your 20s #either way hope this is enjoyable #tag talk out #ps dont mind any inconsistencies i wrote this quick

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regulusfate · 4 years ago

Text

One loose thread doesn’t take the roll down

Hinny

Prompt : You’re safe now, I’m with you .

Requested by @alwaysmagica1 <3

the title is playing on the idea one bad day doesn’t mean they all will be.

It had meant something different once, to be safe. To be safe. It had been a thousand and one possibilities, of testing boundaries, of warmth, of a breath of fresh air and her falling body and his solid arms, like an anchor.

Somewhere that had changed for both of them, she wasn’t entirely sure when she stopped being scared of that thought, or if she ever had. Even there, in the light of the lampshade watching the over the marks of their children’s presence scattered across the living room, the handprints of paint etched into the walls, the toys knocked beneath the table, there came a hint of unsettlement within her chest.

Not quite placeable, the word danced between her tongue and her teeth, on the edge of spilling over like drops of red fine wine against a cream carpet, she never could find the right word for it. An ache, yes, and her fingers massaged through the cotton of her top to the callous skin, an ache but the feeling that came with it detached like a half formed thought cast to the fringes of her mind.

She wonders when they became so complacent. How they could forget so quickly, the world in all its fragile glory, the single tap of one man to shatter the globe encasing them.

It was dangerous, to pretend so sullenly, that life had moved on as though it could never happen again and yet, they all forget, their war had not been the first.

Her husband doesn’t forget. He cannot, and she will not, tracing the scars on his chest and the blackened edges of numb flesh where he could not feel, those long term effects of evading death and that striking curse.

She sees Harry. Not the boy who saved her in the chamber, but the man that built a pillow fought with his kids. Not the war hero still fighting in the ranks of the ministry, but the man who kissed her freckles ‘like the stars’, and plays with her hair, and that body that holds her close under the sheets.

They are a reliance on each other, letting the world drift in its complacency, they are upon their own mound of earth, a whole other wave.

sixth year

“Weasley !”

The sun struck the air and it dazzled, as she weaved through the beams cast her way as the blue of the ocean sky seemed to shimmer, froth on water.

Ginny laughed, billowing up from her lungs into the breathless air, embracing the rush. Harry lunged for her, their bodies swooping, swooning, clambering through the clouds about the sea of green and tiny etched houses. He missed. Their game of cat and mouse.

“You know for someone with an ‘elegant disposition’ on a broom-“

She laughed harder, arching out of his stretching hands, pitching her voice to mimic the report of the latest witchly weekly article, and his face fell into horror pulling his broom up short.

“You read that!”

The mortification in his voice and it cracked an octave higher. Ginny grinned, the wind brushing through her hair.

“Did you know you have an elegant disposition Mr Potter?”

She teased and his eyes sparkled despite the groan from his lips, their chests heaving with pleasure and panting breaths and flushed cheeks.

“Did you always want to be a poet, Miss Weasley?”

Harry quipped back and she choked on the breeze that cascaded her hair in waves of sparks.

“I was eleven !”

“Are my eyes still as green as a fresh pickled toad?”

He laughed, and Ginny scowled, watching his head tip back and eyes flutter closed, the soft cylinder of his giggles echoing in the breeze.

“Is my hair truly as dark as a blackboard?” Harry wheezed

It was quickly followed by a yelp, as he narrowly avoided a strike to the head. Darting forwards, he soared away, and she snatched up the quaffle once more.

“Don’t throw it at my face !”

“Scared to mess up that nose?” She teased back, and they were chasing through the clouds and the sunlight sky.

“Hey it’s straighter than Eloise Midgen’s”

Spurring her broom forwards, his voice tailing back, and she smirked

“Let’s see that elegant disposition then, I’ve always wanted a moving target”

“This is harassment, Weasley,” the distance closed between them, her eyes narrowed on his mop of hair, and he took a sharp left closer to the trees.

“Only until you forget the poem-“ Ginny warned, half teasing though her eyes were bright and smiling as her lips twisted into a determined frown.

“His eyes are as green as fresh pickled toad.”

Harry chanted with a bubbling laugh, dipping between the clouds

“Keep talking Potter !”

“At least I have a Hungarian horntail on my chest”

She snorted, thrown off guard by the sudden change, her hand slipped against the polished handle of the broom as a rogue bludger spun her way and she fumbled, off balance and unable to keep a hold as she veered to the side.

Falling was second nature to quidditch, but still a surprised noise escaped her lips as the air pushed past her, and her fingers gasped at nothing, as though the wind was fighting against gravity and losing and sinking and her hand would not reach her wand in time.

She didn’t want to die.

And then arms snatched at her waist, forcing the final breaths of oxygen from her lips in a startled jerk that bruised her ribs, and she was latching on to the stable body that kept her afloat. Something that might have been a laugh but detached from her ears and a tinge of hysteria as her fingers wound into the shirt and the world was burry in front of her eyes, woozy and sweeping, but she knew those arms as her chin connected with his shoulder.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” Harry murmured, a different chant, more to appease his own racing heart as his feet touched the ground gently but he didn’t attempt to remove his arms and for that Ginny was glad. She needed that anchor against her own pounding heartbeat.

“You’re safe now, I’m with you.” He mumbled, and she felt the soft graze of his lips pressing against her head as she squeezed her eyes shut.

“Holy crap, Ginny I’m so sorry !”

Fred, his voice bursting forwards like a galloping horse and she could move again, the leaded feeling that weighted her legs seeped as they finally pressed fully into the grass.

“You’re an ass.” She snaps, voice partially muffled by Harry’s shoulder.

Fred’s face crumpled from horror to a kicked puppy, and Ginny sighed, not removing herself from his arms but twisting her neck to meet his eyes.

“It’s fine, it’s not the first time.”

His face remained plastered in worry, until a smirk lept on to her face.

“I’m fine,” her smirk grew wider “but I think you just gave mum a heart attack.”

His eyes snapped round to meet Molly Weasley white face in the doorway and gulped. His lips moved inaudible for a moment before his eyes found George with a pleading look. ‘Save me Georgie’

It was only when Molly’s yells began from the muted walls of the burrow, did she pull away, and met Harry’s own pale face with curious brown eyes, that bordered on teasing once again.

“I’m really sorry-“

“What did you mean?” He blinked, taken aback and frowned in confusion.

“You’re safe now , I’m with you?”

The colour returned full force to his cheeks, a blush riding up and he shifted awkwardly for a moment with a bashful shrug.

“I- I dunno” he mumbled sheepishly

“Okay then , Mr Chosen One,” she grinned and grabbed his hands, intertwining their fingers and moving towards the burrow and he groaned.

She was never letting him live it down.

There’s a shadow at the door, a creak and he’s stood there. It’s always his eyes. Brimming with an expanse of pain and loss and his fingers jumped against the side of his leg even as he shifted weight. His throat moved beneath his skin, swallowing in air, swallowing in silence. His lips not fully closed, she knows he wants to say something, anything, she can feel the tightness of his voice just in the shuddering breath he clambered to retain.

“You’re up late,” Ginny offered gently, and a part of her wished his face would crack into that roguish godforbid sexy smirk, stride forwards and tug her up against chest with an arching eyebrow. She wants to hear his low husky ‘maybe I was waiting for you’ breathed down her neck.

She wants it, because she knows the pain that takes hold is so much worse.

“Well I-“ he bites the inside of his cheek, and turns his head. His voice is rough, but it’s grating behind the force of every swallowed scream battering in his dreams and she can see his eyes blinking, the sharp line of his jaw in the light softened by the growth of his beard and jumping in place.

“Hey,” Ginny rose silently, into the shadows of the room and slips her fingers into his larger ones. They shake slightly against her. “Harry.”

He shakes his head for a moment, the muscles in his face gripping at his skin for control and she sees the blink of his eyelashes, thrice, before he folds into her embrace. His beard is ticklish against her neck, as his head presses into her shoulder and his arms curl tightly and Ginny knows he’s clinging to the heartbeat.

She reaches through his tense and tightening biceps to rub his back. His hair smelt of roses, it’s soft petal texture, feathered against her cheek, she liked it. His hair always seemed to smell of roses.

“Hey , hey it’s okay.”

He shudders, and her fingers find gently into the soft locks. The muscles in his back tense, rolling like the cup of raindrop slipping down the veins of dying leaves, and a sob follows.

“You’re safe now,” Ginny whispered, and he presses closer. “I’m with you.”

The always is left unsaid , but she knows he hears it. For a long moment they are simply held in an embrace, his body and hers, intertwined in limbs and a shared grief.

“You’re with me,” he mumbles, “you’re with me, you’re with me”

A pause, and her chest aches more to take his pain away. He pulls back first, pressing a sleeve to his eyes with another shaking breath, and exhaling slowly. She keeps a hand on his back rubbing up and down, as her mother had done , as he had done to her.

Ginny doesn’t ask if he wants to talk about it, as they gravitate slowly towards the sofa where there’s light cast out of the shadows and their tired bodies slump into the cushions. She doesn’t need to ask. They told each other everything they could , some things had taken years to speak of, others only seconds. Sometimes it would be silence, times where neither one will speak of what came crashing, tearing through their mind, it’s a story for another day.

Harry rubs a hand down his face, their knees touching, legs almost overlapping, and torso’s inclined towards each other. He leans an arm on the top of the sofa, and his fingers brush lightly over the scar , that scar , that ripples through his skin. He does it automatically, and sometimes purposefully. It’s strange how they could find comfort in the things that haunted them most.

“I’m scared for them.” He speaks after a while, and she fiddles with a loose thread on his shirt.

Them being the kids and Ginny knows he means, that ever present fear that their children should grow and witness the same horrors they had seen, as their parents had before them.

“James is almost five,” and the number comes out almost breathless, as if he can’t quite wrap his head around it, a wistfulness and a yearning. She sighs and moves, and he accepts the gesture instantly, opening his arms and she curls up against his chest.

It’s not something she likes to think about, truthfully.

“I’m scared too,” Her hand rubs against his chest, watching the creases in his shirt. “But our babies are growing up, and we get to see that.”

He hums, and she moves to glance upwards and meet Harry’s eyes, still those beautiful green.

“We get that.” Ginny whispers, and the echo of a smile wraps around his lips as his fingers drift up to brush a strand of hair behind her ear.

“We do.” He murmurs, like clarification and they lean into the touch the other offers instinctively. Her head presses back against his chest, and his fingers wind their way through her hair and they’ve stopped shaking now.

“I saw you in the mirror this morning,” it’s been plaguing her all day.

“Oh?”

She can almost hear the smile in voice now, and relaxes a little more.

“You’re not getting rid of the beard.”

A deep chuckle reverberates from his chest though soft into the quiet of the house and she grins.

All was , sometimes , well . They could live with that .

#post war hinny #hinny #hinny prompt #harry potter #hp golden era #hp next gen #hp fandom #hinny fanfic #harry and ginny #hp fanfic #post wizarding war #I’ve realised I’m not actually sure when in sixth year this could have happened #but let’s just go with it anyway

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genshin-obsessed · 4 years ago

Note

THAT XIAO IMAGINE HURT MY HEART OMFG. Would you possibly consider writing something similar to that for Diluc where maybe Diluc is spending so much time with Lumine that the reader separates herself from them and tries to leave because reader believes Diluc loves Lumine? God my heaaaaaaaaaaaaaart 😭😭😭😭😭

I FOUND IT! I finally found it😭😭 I really thought I lost this and was a little upset, but I found it. Ok, so I took pointers from the last one and the ending isn’t as angsty as I want. I hope I don’t disappoint with it though! It also turned out to be much longer than I expected. Wanna guess how long before I start hating this banner too? I give it a week before I never wanna see its face again. Length: 1.8k

Pointless

You and Diluc had a beautiful and healthy relationship. You two had been together for about three and a half years. You had met while you were still a novice adventurer. You were extremely shy and reserved, but he found it adorable. He found himself so attached, he was unable to think of anything but you when you weren’t around him.

He often found himself seeking you out, needing the attention and happiness you brought him. Within a few months, Diluc knew what was happening. He was in love. He was so madly in love he couldn’t help it. He found himself getting jealous, wanting to keep your attention on him and only him. Finally, he pushed himself to confess. To his pleasant surprise, you agreed, claiming you liked him as well.

Ever since then, your life was amazing. It was filled with joy every single day. You often woke up, feeling brighter than ever, knowing your life was blessed. You knew Diluc was the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.

Knew.

Then she came along. Lumine. The beautiful blonde girl, one who wasn’t from this world. She was able to wield anemo and geo powers without needing a vision. She helped Diluc, Venti, and Jean with the Dvalin issue. Diluc promised you that after he was done with that problem, he’d be back with you. But he never did.

After Dvalin, Lumine said she needed help with her adventuring and he went with her. Now, normally you wouldn’t mind it. Lumine had learned about Diluc’s side job- the Darknight Hero- and she needed help. But Diluc never came to your adventures with you. Not to mention, he didn’t tell you about his Darknight Hero job until you found out two years in. It hurt that you felt as if Lumine was getting different treatment.

You would often go to the manor to find out that Diluc had already left with Lumine on some stupid escapade. Finally, you’d hit a wall. What were you supposed to do? Break up with him and then do what? Watch as he continued to live life with Lumine? Were you supposed to smile and wave every time you saw him? Were you supposed to pretend you weren’t shattered that Diluc actually found a woman of his caliber?

Your mind was plagued with thoughts like that, so much so, that you would get distracted. Of course, you hadn’t realized how dangerous that was… until you were here.

You screamed as a mitachurl shield bashed you, causing you to fly back and roll on the ground.

“Oh, I hate my life.” You groaned, pushing yourself to stand. The world was spinning and your vision was blurred. The pain shot through your body and you prepared to die. Maybe Diluc would regret something if that happened. As the strength drained from your body and you prepared to surrender, you felt arms surround you. Your body was enveloped in warmth as you were quickly moved away.

Unable to tell what was happening, you went along with it as you felt your back touch a tree. You slid down as the dark figure moved away. You touched your aching head and noted they returned in a few minutes.

“D-Diluc?” They crouched down in front of you and took your head into their hands.

“Diluc? I don’t know who that is.” They said. Finally, your vision cleared up and you gazed into beautiful, golden eyes. “Are you ok?” He had green hair, beautiful eyes, and a purple diamond on his forehead.

“I uh… y-yeah…” You mumbled, feeling your cheeks flushing a deep red.

“You’re red. Are you sure?” You nodded, pushing him away and standing up. However, you stood up too quickly and felt the world spin. But before you could fall, the man had caught you again. “Careful!”

“I… I’m sorry.” You mumbled, before relaxing into his arms. Shy or not, you don’t know how badly you’d been hurt.

“Just… stay still.” He mumbled, picking you up with ease. You let your head rest on his chest, closing your eyes for a minute. In your time of need, your boyfriend didn’t save you… why? Because he chose to be out with another girl. Yet this random man, he was here for you. He did save you.

***

“Will you be ok?” The man asked as you walked out of the healing house. You nodded to him.

“Yes. Thank you so much for bringing me here. I really appreciate it. I-I’m (f/n).”

“I know… I’m Xiao.”

“Xiao… it’s nice to meet you.” You beamed, holding your hand out. He stared at it for a minute before taking it in his and giving it a gentle shake.

***

Ever since that day, you’d felt less hopeless. You hadn’t been as worried about Diluc because you had Xiao. Xiao had mentioned he’d seen you plenty of times while you were adventuring. He mentioned he thought you were strong, but didn’t understand what had gone wrong the day he met you. You chose to lie and say it was because you were tired but needed the commission money. He called you careless for taking on a job you were too tired to handle. He also added that he’d been joining you every now and then to make sure you stayed in one piece.

However, as the days went on, Xiao accompanied you on more and more adventures. You’d started to forget about Diluc and felt less and less burdened by him choosing a new girl. In fact, it had been weeks since you’d seen him. You two still met up every now and then for some pathetic date, but even that stopped.

You opted to spend time with Xiao, someone who could help you forget your worries. You’d almost completely forgotten Diluc… until you saw him.

You and Xiao were in Liyue looking at some wares, when you saw bright red hair in the distance. Your heart stopped and you felt the anxiety start to build up. But the thing that hurt the most… was that Lumine was with him. You had no idea what to do. Well… there was one thing. You moved yourself directly in front of Xiao, whose back was facing Diluc and Lumine.

“Hm? What’s wrong?” You looked up at him with glossy eyes.

“I’m… sorry but c-can we s-stay like this? Fo-for a minute?” Xiao was hesitant, but nodded.

“Yeah, sure.” You let your gaze fall on his chest, but all you could think about was Diluc and Lumine. He… really did love her. It hurt, even now, it hurt so bad. It tore your heart to shreds.

As Diluc and Lumine started to walk away, you moved Xiao so that he could hide your figure. It didn’t take a genius to figure out you were hiding from someone.

“So, that’s Diluc. Nothing special.”

“What?”

“That’s him. The man you’re with, correct?” You immediately shook your head, but Xiao looked at you, silencing any protests. “I know. I saw you two together. About three years ago. You two were happy. I’m assuming that’s his new woman.”

“You...knew?”

“I knew of you two three years ago. I didn’t know anything about him. I figured he must’ve been Diluc when you called out to him six months ago.” The day he saved you. “Tell me.”

You broke. Xiao took you to a secluded spot where you told him everything. You couldn’t tell, but Xiao was furious. He hated how you’d been treated. Someone like you deserved the world, all the love the world could offer, yet… here you were crying about some idiot who couldn’t even treat you right.

“Maybe there’s something wrong with me.” You said, tears sliding down your cheeks. “She’s better. Lumine is stronger, she’s beautiful, she’s talented, she doesn’t even need a vision, she’s… better in every single way.” Xiao took your face, lifting your head to meet his eyes gently.

“I don’t think so.”

“But h-he wants her. N-not me…” His thumbs brushed away your tears.

“So?”

“Wh-what do you mean so? I love him and I-”

“Don’t need him.” You looked up at his gorgeous gold eyes.

“What?”

“You don’t need him. You want him. You want him back and for him to love you, but you don’t need him. You’ve stopped needing him since we met. Admit it.” He was right. With Xiao, you’d almost completely forgotten Diluc. Almost as if you’d moved on already.

“But…”

“It’s ok. It’s ok to move on so quickly. It’s ok to no longer want to spend your life with someone. It’s ok to let go.”

“Xiao…” You hadn’t even noticed his lips getting closer and closer until they were almost touching yours. But, Xiao pulled away and let go of you.

“You don’t need him.” Xiao stood up and patted your head, before walking away. You watched his figure disappear before leaning against the wall behind you. Maybe… he was right.

After a few minutes of contemplating, you stood up, feeling a great weight lifted off your chest. Yeah, you didn’t need Diluc anymore. Might as well officially break up with him.

You took a few deep breaths before scouting out Diluc. It wasn’t too hard, he stood out quite a bit.

“Diluc.” He turned around and his vermillion eyes widened.

“(f-f/n). Hi.”

“Hey, can we talk in private?” He nodded as Lumine left and you pulled him aside. For some reason, you felt no fear or anxiety. Just… peace. “I think we should break up.”

“Wh-what?”

“I think we should end this… whatever this is. Because let’s be honest, it’s not a relationship anymore.”

“B-but. Wait a minute, d-don’t do this-”

“I didn’t do anything. You did. I’m just going along with your lead.” You could see the sadness in his eyes but you refused to let it get to you. “You want Lumine, right? It’s ok! I’m completely fine with it. She’s a better option, I know. She’s strong, talented, beautiful, just better. Isn’t she?”

“But wait! You can’t just do this. You can’t leave me. I-”

“Don’t need you.” Diluc stared at you with wide eyes as you recalled Xiao’s words. It felt so good to say it out loud.

“What?”

“I don’t need you. You don’t want me. So why are we wasting our time like this?”

“Please don’t do this.”

“Why? What do you want from me? We haven’t even seen each other in over a month. There’s no point in trying to revive this relationship. There’s nothing left of it and to be frank… I don’t want it.” You gave him a hug, one he was barely able to reciprocate before you pulled away. However, he grabbed your hand.

“Please (f/n).”

“No. You want Lumine. Have her.” You shook his hand off and smiled brightly before leaving. You felt tears well up in your eyes again but it was ok. You knew it was ok, even as they slid down your cheeks.

Xiao smiled to himself as he leaned against the roof. He closed his eyes, engraving his mind with your figure. The way your hair flowed behind you, the way the sun shone down on your figure, the way you confidently smiled and walked away, it was all so beautiful and perfect.

“I have fallen in love with an exceptional woman…”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #diluc x reader #genshin diluc #genshin impact diluc #diluc imagine #genshin impact imagines #genshin xiao #xiao x reader #genshin xiao x reader

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alj4890 · 3 years ago

Text

All Through the Night

A Choices: The Royal Romance Dark AU

A/N Picking up right where we left off in the prologue and delving deep into the Beaumont's part of this storyline. We will also begin to see what some of our other TRR characters are and how they affect this divided kingdom of Cordonia. This is a VERY long chapter since I went into both Beaumont's histories, but I couldn’t find a good place to end their beginning to this storyline, LOL. Hope it doesn’t ruin this for anyone.

@gkittylove99 @krsnlove @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @yourmajesty09 @mom2000aggie @ofpixelsandscribbles @twinkleallnight @lodberg @twinkleallnight @amandablink @neotericthemis @mm2305 @sfb123 @iufilms @tessa-liam @busywoman

Masterlist

Part 1

Outside the Cordonian Palace...

"Home?" Drake asked as he fell into step beside Liam.

"So soon?" The prince smiled at him. "The night is still young. We could check out a club or two."

"Uh huh." Drake shook his head. "Nice try, but I know you, Liam. Where are we really headed?"

Liam's smile dimmed. "I thought about checking on Leo."

"Leo? Why?"

"I'm worried about him. That last argument he had with Father...he hasn't been in contact at all with anyone at home." Liam softly sighed. "He hasn't answered any of my calls or messages."

"Then why visit?" Drake's tone was filled with bitterness. "Some siblings leave without a second glance and don't care how much it hurts you in the process."

Liam winced at the reminder he had caused his closest friend. "Forgive me. I didn't mean to bring up memories of Sav--"

"She's dead now." Drake bit out.

Liam closed his mouth. He knew that wasn't true, but it was the only way Drake could deal with what Savannah had done. Ever since the Beaumont’s appeared that fateful night, the Walker's had been permanently damaged.

He didn't know if there was even a chance for a reconciliation between the two.

Clearing his throat, Liam returned to the subject of Leo. "I can't come down here without checking on him."

"Is he even here anymore?" Drake asked. "I thought he had left Cordonia all together after your father refused his latest petition."

"He did. But through new sources, I have discovered that he not only returned, but has been back for quite some time."

They walked on in silence until they stopped in front of a small townhome.

They stared at the façade where not a single light was on.

Liam checked the time. "Perhaps it is too late to call upon him now that he is part of the human world."

"We can always come back after sunset." Drake offered.

"You don't have to accompany me." Liam placed a comforting hand upon his shoulder. "I think I can manage to get around down here on my own."

"And leave you alone with not only a Nevarkis but also a Beaumont protecting the streets from your kind." Drake's eyes narrowed. "Fat chance."

Liam shook his head. "Olivia is not going to harm me. And--"

"You can't trust her. I know you think you're little bond you made with her as a kid will keep you safe, but she'll end up just like her family and betray you the first moment she can."

"She's one of my closest friends." Liam argued. "She would never--"

"And as for Beaumont, do you honestly believe he will not seek revenge for what happened to his brother?" Drake snapped. "I'm surprised he has waited this long to make a move."

Liam knew there was little use arguing when Drake fell into this state of mind. With a sigh, he turned away from his brother's current dwelling and began to make the long trek back to the Blackspire Mountains.

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

Earlier that night, Ramsford...

So many memories...

Maxwell stood in front of the wall of weapons his ancestors had collected over the years.

His hand raised, trailing over the gold kraken near the hilt of his namesake's sword, the very one that felt like an extension of his own arm.

"Here you are." Bertrand grumbled. "We need to discuss the next Beaumont Bash."

The young lord had to summon all his strength to fall into the act that was necessary.

"You came to the right man." He spun around, his movements as smooth as silk. "What would you like me to do?"

"I'm leaving music selection in your hands. Savannah," Bertrand smiled softly, "will be handling the decorations. I will of course be choosing the menu." He held up his many lists of chores. "I want my wife's first ball to be praised by all who attend."

"This will be the Beaumont Bash to beat all the previous ones." Maxwell promised.

"I knew I could count on you." Bertrand hesitated. "Perhaps, is there a young lady you would like to invite?"

Maxwell fought to keep his carefree act in place.

"You know me." He shrugged with a dimpled grin. "It's difficult to find...someone right."

Bertrand patted his shoulder. "You'll find the right person."

Once he disappeared down the stairs, Maxwell allowed his smile to disappear.

The past year and a half had been difficult. Becoming this version of a party loving noble grated on his nerves. He wished that they could go back to what they once were...monster hunters.

The Beaumont Brothers had once struck fear in the Dark Kingdom. The very notion that they had been tasked to bring a creature to justice sent many of them scurrying into the far reaches of the realm. Yet, none could escape them for long.

At least...that was how it once was.

That one fateful encounter with the King of the Dark Kingdom made their entire world turn upside down.

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

2 years ago...

"Wait." Bertrand placed his hand on Maxwell's shoulder.

He did a few hand signals.

Maxwell nodded and slipped his sword out of its sheath. He briefly closed his eyes, using his other senses to zoom in on where the danger was. The woods along the outskirts of the Dark Kingdom could be treacherous during the daylight. At night, it was nothing but a death trap to the random lost hiker.

Sensing a presence a little to his right, Maxwell took a few silent steps forward.

Bertrand followed, guarding his back with a crossbow.

"Stop!" A female's voice cried out. "Please, my lords. Help me!"

The brothers froze at the sobs that followed that plea.

"She sounds human." Bertrand whispered. "Could she be lost?"

"This far up the mountain?" Maxwell countered. "Not likely. It's probably another vile fiend hoping to trap her next meal."

"Please." The voice was faint, sounding almost defeated. "Please help me escape."

Escape. That one word meant she was an innocent human, one that would most likely perish from the monsters that resided nearby.

Bertrand stopped Maxwell and stepped in front of him.

Parting the branches of a bush, they saw a woman sitting on the ground. Her knees were pulled up to her chest and her face was buried in her arms. Her body shook with muffled cries.

"Will no one help me?" She repeated over and over.

Bertrand lowered his weapon then knelt before her.

Maxwell remained tense, ready to lop off her head if she even made the slightest movement to harm his brother.

"We can help you." Bertrand reached out and laid a gentle hand on her arm. "Who--"

The brothers jumped back when she lifted her face.

She was a Walker and not just any Walker: Savannah Walker, only sister to the crown prince's right hand, Sir Drake Walker.

The two were the only descendants left of a human family that once centuries ago had made a blood oath to the Rhys. Each generation served as a protector and companion of sorts to the reigning family.

Savannah wiped at her tears. She cautiously rose, then held her hands out to them. "Please. I know who you are and I mean you no harm."

Bertrand had yet to raise his crossbow. His jaw was slack as he gazed upon her.

Maxwell pointed his sword at her. "We received a message asking us to search for a missing human." His eyes narrowed. "Did you send that message?"

She nodded. "Forgive me for lying, but I knew you wouldn't come if you knew it was from me."

Maxwell cursed, his nerves notched to an eleven as his eyes scanned the forest for a possible ambush.

"Why do you need to escape?" Bertrand asked.

"Aren't you the prince's right hand girl?" Maxwell taunted. "No longer enjoying being a vampire's plaything?"

Savannah winced at his insults.

"That's enough." Bertrand snapped. "She needs our help."

Maxwell's jaw dropped. "Surely you don't believe her?"

"I do." Bertrand moved closer to her. "Tell me what is going on."

Maxwell looked up to make certain the sky wasn't falling. Had his overly cautious brother, the very one that made him train hours upon hours each and every day, just defend an enemy of Cordonia?

"Prince Liam demands nothing from me, other than the occasional donation of blood." She sniffed. "He is very kind, but I don't want to remain here." Her warm brown eyes held Bertrand's. "I want to live a normal life, have a family...one that isn't bound to live here."

Bertrand rubbed a hand down his face. She looked so desperate, so in need of reassurance that she could have that dream.

"You're bound by a blood oath." Maxwell reminded her with a shrug. "There's nothing we can do to help you."

"Please!" She jerked her hands back when his sword swatted them. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to--"

"Maxwell Percival Beaumont!" Bertrand moved in front of Savannah. "Lower that weapon this instant!"

"Have you lost your mind?" Maxwell motioned toward the one that dragged them out of their beds. "Has she cast some spell over you? She's a member of the inner Dark Court. She probably has some signal that will have Constantine and his spawn out here to end us."

"I don't." She cried. "I could never do that."

Bertrand wrapped an arm around her. "We can't help you escape tonight. The blood oath will kill you if you break it without magic." He gently squeezed her close. "We'll find out what must be done and then rescue you."

"We'll do what now?" Maxwell jerked his brother away from her. "We are not prepared to face off against both Constantine and Liam."

"We'll find a way around them." Bertrand hissed. "Regina will know what to do."

"You're involving the witches now?" Maxwell's eyes grew incredulous. "You know they don't take sides."

Bertrand glanced back at Savannah. "I know. But we must try."

He returned to her and softly whispered the plan.

Maxwell watched as her eyes filled with tears again. She nodded, whispered a way to contact her and then impulsively kissed his brother’s cheek.

"Thank you." She squeezed his hand. "I must return before someone notices I'm absent."

She took off, stumbling through the brush, and disappeared from sight.

"We're really doing this?" Maxwell muttered.

"We are." Bertrand vowed. "She doesn't deserve to be imprisoned here for what her ancestors did."

"Everyone is in some type of prison thanks to our ancestors." Maxwell told him as he started back down the mountain. "Some of us just endure our life sentence better than others."

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

A few weeks went by after encountering Ms. Walker. Bertrand summoned Regina and her coven to discuss how best to help Savannah.

The Guardian, as she was referred to by the younger witches, pondered this problem. Reassuring him that she would find a way, she rose to retire to a guest room.

"Just a minute, please." Maxwell held up a hand to stop her. "Your admirer must never know of this. He'll kill her as well as us if he thinks we plan on disrupting his castle."

Regina stiffened at the word, admirer.

It was no secret that Constantine had fallen in love with her. Years ago, the vampire had made her an offer of marriage. She had been tempted to accept, given that she had lost her heart to him as well. Then tragedy struck and her cousin and her husband perished in a plane crash, leaving their young daughter Madeleine, an orphan.

Regina had noticed that the little girl had inherited magical skills that could be molded into a powerful witch. Knowing that their talent would not be welcomed in the Dark Kingdom, she refused Constantine's proposal and remained in Cordonia. She had raised the young countess to be a witch that would do whatever she could to protect the innocent and needy.

Madeleine had formed friendships with two other noble ladies, completing the coven that would replace Regina on her death. Ladies Kiara and Penelope studied hard, yet were never quite as powerful as Madeleine.

And now the Beaumont’s were asking a favor.

Regina knew she owed them one. Hundreds of years earlier Percival Beaumont had saved the life of her ancestor, Kayden Vescovi. Without him, Regina and Madeleine would not be here today nor imbued with magic.

Madeleine slipped inside.

"Do you really think we can break a blood oath?" She sat down beside her relative. "Blood magic is tricky enough as it is. I can only imagine how much it will take from us to break."

Regina gently patted her hand. "We will do all we can to find a way. Our debt to the Beaumont’s must be repaid."

Madeleine nodded in agreement. "I brought some books along. I'll see if they have anything that can help us."

Regina watched her pixie like cousin slip out the door with a fond smile. It slowly firmed into a frown as she thought of what she had discovered before journeying to Ramsford.

Leo Rhys, former prince of the Dark Kingdom had begun visiting Madeleine in secret.

She knew she would have to address that once she discovered the type of relationship Madeleine had with the young man. Now though, she was needed to solve this problem for Bertrand.

It took weeks of research, then having to wait upon a waning gibbus moon before a potion could be prepared. Once Regina had placed the bottle sealed with a waxed cork in Bertrand's hand, she had explained what must be done.

"Savannah must drink this and declare herself free from the Rhys' family." She explained. "Then she must force herself to turn her back on them and walk away. It will be painful for her, but she will survive."

"Thank you." Bertrand bowed. "I knew if anyone could help us, it would be you."

She gently squeezed his hand. "If you need me, do not hesitate to call. I will be here as fast as I can."

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

That night, the brothers slipped quietly through a gate into the Dark Kingdom. Savannah had told Bertrand that it was their best place to go undetected, given that the guard typically dozed off around the midnight hour.

"How often have you two talked?" Maxwell whispered.

"Everyday." Bertrand replied.

"Everyday?!"

"Keep your voice down." Bertrand ordered.

"She called to pester you everyday over this blood oath potion?"

"Not exactly." Bertrand slinked further into the shadows when they noticed a few people lingering around a town center.

"Then what have you been talking about?" Maxwell prodded.

He wasn't prepared to hear the answer.

"Marriage." Bertrand reluctantly replied

"Marriage? To whom?" His eyes widened. "You're going to marry a Walker?!"

"Yes." Bertrand narrowed his eyes. "She is kind and--"

"She's a Walker. A. Walker." Maxwell stressed. "Enemy to any and all monster hunters."

"She's not our enemy." Bertrand snapped. "For that matter, she says that Liam isn't either. He wants peace between our kingdoms."

"Oh well, that's a relief." Maxwell mocked, wiping his brow. "The word of a vampire is the one thing you can always count on."

Bertrand grit his teeth together to keep from saying something he might regret. He needed his younger brother's support and approval with this decision. He had never had a moment in his life since Maxwell's birth where he didn't have that. He would need it even more so in taking Savannah for his bride. He also hoped that Maxwell would become a brother to her since she was about to lose the only family she had ever known.

Regina had told him to stress to Savannah that breaking this blood oath could also destroy the bond she had with her brother, Drake.

He had done so over the phone, then wished he could be there to hold her as her heart broke over this hefty price.

With a shaky voice, she had remained determined to leave and marry him.

Creeping onward towards the castle, the brothers remained each lost in thought of what the future would bring.

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

Castle Rhys, that fateful night....

"Welcome home, my dear Sherry. And Rashad, how was your trip? Successful as usual, I believe." Constantine greeted the cousins warmly.

The two bowed and curtsied before relaxing again.

"It was very successful, your majesty." Rashad sat down in a chair catty cornered to the king's. "In fact, I was able to...."

While the pair talked, Sherry hurried over to hug Liam.

"Sherry!" He swung her into a tight hug. "I didn't think you were returning to us so soon."

"I missed home." She stepped back and grinned at Drake. "How have you been, Sir Drake?"

"Stop that sir mess and come here." He couldn't maintain his frown for long around her after pulling her into a tight hug. "The Blackspire Mountains haven't been the same without you flying about."

Sherry, formally Lady Sherveen Alcantar cousin to the Duke of Domvallier, Lord Rashad Kovak, was a fire-user. She and Rashad were direct descendants of King Dominic and his secret marriage to Sei Rhuka after the death of Queen Kenna. The fire users had decided to marry to protect the true heir to the kingdom and give him a family that would always be ready to fight by his side.

Like their ancestors the two cousins could transform into dragons and were known to fly above the clouds, away from curious humans.

Given their direct descent and blood relationship to each member of the Rhys family, their closeness had been encouraged with each and every generation. Sei had been the one to decree that every dragon born was to devote their lives to keeping their vampire relatives safe.

"Where's Savannah?" Sherry asked. "It seems like forever since I last saw her."

"Sav's been down lately." Drake explained. "Maybe she has been missing you and Rashad." He began to walk away, "I'll go fetch her."

Liam motioned for Sherry to sit with him.

As she lowered herself down, her gray eyes turned silver. A delectable smell seemed to waft from nearby. It fluttered her senses.

"Excuse me a moment, Liam," she pushed her jet black hair back and searched for the source.

It wasn't food she smelled, but rather someone. Possibly the one if she was to go by how her ancestors described finding the perfect mate. Her heartbeat accelerated as the smell became stronger with each step she took.

Then she noticed the guards' bodies lining the second floor hallway.

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

Savannah said the words necessary after drinking the potion. Her insides became engulfed with flames, scalding her blood of any magic.

"AHH-" she clamped her hands over her mouth to muffle the agonizing scream while boiling tears slipped down her cheeks. A white hot mist began to float up from her skin.

"Savannah!" Bertrand tried to take her in his arms, but was burned upon touching a bare piece of her skin.

"Let's go." She managed to say through painful gasps. "We must hurry. It's almost--"

Her bedroom door flew open. A stunned Drake followed by Sherry walked into the room.

"Sav? What did you do?" Drake gripped his head. "Why don't I feel--"

Sherry stared wide eyed at Maxwell. She could feel the heat move over her body and pooling within her palms. One little flick of a finger would have fire burning within her grasp.

The one I'm meant for is a hunter?

But how could this be? They couldn't--impossible--how would they ever--

"I'm leaving, Drake." Savannah sobbed. "I can't take it anymore."

"What are you talking about?" He staggered against a wall and slowly slid down. "Why do I feel like you have died? That you've been taken from me?"

"I'm sorry." She knelt beside him. "So incredibly sorry."

He passed out from the pain pulsating in his veins.

"No!" Savannah tried to wake him up. "Drake please--"

"We have to go." Maxwell eyed the silver irises holding his own gaze. "Don't make any sudden moves."

Sherry merely nodded.

The three edged around her to the door.

"Who are you?" Sherry asked.

"No concern of yours." He bit out.

"But..."

She had to chase after him.

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

It had happened in the blink of an eye. One minute, they saw the exit and felt elation at having succeeded. Then a sinister creature flew over their heads. It landed in front of them then threw its cloak back.

Constantine had found them.

"What did you do Savannah?" He snarled. "Why is your brother unconscious? Whatever you did also hurt Liam."

"Sir, I am so sorry. But I can't--"

"You haven't begun to feel sorrow." Constantine held her gaze, then reached out to torment her mind until she was beyond help.

Bertrand knew what was happening and jumped in front of Savannah, taking the hit of Constantine's frightening power.

He fell to the floor with a scream. Curling into a ball, he cried out for his dead mother and then for Maxwell.

Constantine slumped against a wall too, his powers surprisingly weak.

"Bertrand!" Savannah gently touched him and tried to snap him out of whatever nightmare Constantine had thrust him in.

It was no use. Whatever the vampire king had done, there was no clear way to help Bertrand.

"What did you do to him?" Maxwell demanded. "Tell me now before I kill you!"

"Do?" Constantine's voice had grown weak. "I got my revenge."

"No please!" Savannah pleaded. "There's bound to be a way we can end this amicably."

Bertrand’s screams turned to whimpers.

Fighting his own panic, Maxwell picked up his brother and began to back out of the room.

"Wait!" Sherry stepped forward. "I must--"

Liam appeared, causing the hairs on Maxwell's neck to rise.

"Savannah?" He stumbled forward, catching himself against a side table. "What is going on?"

"I'm so sorry Liam." Savannah whispered. "Please tell Drake I love him, but I have to live my own life. Tell him," she glanced back at the man sobbing in Maxwell's arms, "tell him I'm to marry Bertrand Beaumont."

"No!" Sherry shook her head.

It couldn't be. She had lost her heart, her very choice to choose another mate, to Maxwell Beaumont.

"Savannah," Constantine hissed. "If you ever return to the Dark Kingdom, I will kill you for this treason."

Tears continued to slip down her cheeks, her blood had cooled, giving her a new dose of strength to turn her back upon her king and leave all she'd ever known forever.

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

Maxwell had struggled to get his brother down the mountain. Once back within Cordonia's borders, he had called Regina. No human doctor could help Bertrand. He hoped that a witch could reverse the effects of Constantine's vicious attack.

Regina worked tirelessly along with Madeleine to find a way to cure the young duke. The potions and spells they tried did little to bring him out of his fear.

Savannah never left Bertrand's side. She took care of him, fed him, tried to soothe him when he cried out. She did everything Regina suggested in between their treatments. Maxwell begrudgingly began to soften toward her when he saw that she truly loved his brother.

After a month of this, Regina finally sat Maxwell and Savannah down to offer them one final solution.

"I cannot bring him back." Her eyes were filled with sorrow. "Constantine's power is too strong. The damage is too extensive."

Savannah bit back a sob. "It's all my fault."

Maxwell silently agreed. If she had only accepted her lot in life like everyone else did.

"Bertrand made his choice." He mumbled, knowing he would want him to try and comfort her. "You were his choice."

She blinked back tears. "I won't give up on him."

Maxwell wondered. Hadn't she given up on Liam and Drake? And whoever that girl was with the silver eyes? Why would she remain with a mentally damaged man she had only seen once before and had a few conversations with?

Only monsters fell in love that quickly.

Was she--

"What I can do is give Bertrand a new mind." Regina leaned forward. "It will take years to make it permanent. You will have to slip him potions until the new memories settle."

Savannah and Maxwell sat up.

"New mind? So you can give him what he was before the attack?" Maxwell asked.

"I could, but I won't." Regina explained. "I'm afraid the knowledge of the Dark Kingdom would cause the new mind to never fully develop. His fears are forever tied to Constantine now. What he's seeing in his mind are you both, your parents, and even himself being tortured by the king and other monstrous creatures. It is a never ending slide show of agony."

Maxwell swallowed as stray tears began to fall down his cheeks. No wonder Bertrand screamed his name and their mom's. He thought he couldn't save them.

"Bertrand will never again be a hunter and he must never know that you are still one, Maxwell." She reached out and took his hand. "From the moment I begin the incantation, you all will need to live as a normal human."

"Whatever he needs, I'll do." He promised.

Savannah added her own fervent vow that she would give Bertrand that life.

Regina nodded. "Come. Madeleine and I will walk you through the potions you'll need to secretly give him. Tomorrow, we will begin the process."

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

Within a month, Bertrand was back on his feet. He was pleased that he would be marrying his fiancée soon. He was content with the sparkling wine his duchy was famous for. He even took great delight in being a part of Queen Olivia's council.

And he believed his younger brother needed something to occupy him.

Maxwell managed to pull off his late nights out as partying instead of monitoring the boundaries between the two kingdoms. Olivia would join him as much as she could to help, but he preferred being alone.

He needed to prefer being alone.

And then, after a few months of proactive policing, he saw the silver eyed girl.

She was returning from an evening out with human friends.

He stepped out of the shadows, blocking her path.

His eyes darted over her, trying to discern what she exactly was. He could usually pick a vampire out of a crowd easily. Witches were not known to live in the Dark Kingdom. She could possibly be a human that Constantine and Liam preferred to feed from. But that didn't seem likely.

Those humans never left the Dark Kingdom.

He knew there were other creatures rumored to live up there. Werewolves could be occasionally heard at night. There were the elves who kept the kingdom wealthy. An occasional troll would slip out to attack a human. A few families of vampires from other nations had moved a long time ago to the only kingdom where they didn't have to live in fear.

And then there were the mythical dragons.

Maxwell had never seen one, save from renderings of King Dominic and his fellow fire user Sei.

The girl stopped, keeping about six feet between them. "Good evening, Lord Maxwell."

He blinked at the friendliness he could hear. "Good evening, umm..."

"Sherveen Alcantar, or Sherry.” She blushed over her stuttering. “ I prefer Sherry."

"Sherry." He repeated. "What are you doing down here?"

"I was meeting with some friends of mine." She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "My cousin is business partners with William Sloane, do you know him?"

Maxwell gave a noncommittal shrug.

"Oh. Well, he was hosting a dinner on his yacht and I, um, went." She lowered her eyes.

"And what exactly was on the menu?" Maxwell asked.

Her eyes flashed at that condescending tone of his. "The usual a multimillionaire would have. Appetizers of caviar and shrimp. A roasted beet and pear salad. Lobster. Roasted parsnips and potatoes. Complete with a dessert of chocolate soufflé sprinkled with powdered sugar and gold flakes."

Maxwell merely quirked an eyebrow.

She huffed in irritation. "Anyway, there is something I think we should discuss."

"Savannah is not coming back. She's married to my brother." He informed her.

"No, that's not what we need to talk about." Taking a deep breath, she let the words finally be said. "You are meant for me."

"I'm what?" His eyes narrowed. "Are you a vampire."

"No." She shifted, raising one of her legs to take a shoe off. "But we are meant to be together." Her silver eyes began to glow brighter. "And I believe you know it."

"I--" was that why he there wasn't a day that passed where he didn't think about her?

She removed her other shoe, sighing at the relief she felt. "I'm a fire-user."

He snorted with surprised laughter. "Right. And I'm really a--"

His eyes widened when she produced a flame in her palm. Winking at him, she produced two more and began to juggle the fireballs.

"That doesn't mean--"

He fell backwards when she turned into a black dragon with silver tipped wings. Smoke curled out of her nostrils as she leveled a humor filled eye upon him.

He stared at the creature he believed was made up.

With a puff of smoke, she transformed back into a human.

A naked human.

"Don't stare." She ordered, pulling out a spare dress that she always kept close at hand from her purse.

He couldn't help it. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

Once she was properly covered, she sat down beside him.

"What do we do about our destiny?" She asked.

He didn't know. His world it seemed had truly fallen apart.

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

He tried to fight it. Maxwell didn't like the fact that he was intended for someone else without any say whatsoever. It seemed that a human couldn't fight the magic or whatever it was when a monster recognized you as their mate.

Sherry began to show up wherever he was whenever he left home. She'd spend a few minutes talking to him, then leave before he could deny they were meant to be.

It drove him crazy. There were times he wanted to accept it. Then there were times he wanted her to never return. Either way he couldn't stop thinking about her. He no longer saw any other woman as being attractive.

One day, he was walking through a park to try and clear his head. It hurt to no longer be able to discuss things like this with Bertrand. He needed his guidance in this. Of course given how he had fallen for Savannah, he probably would have encouraged Maxwell to be with a dragon.

Sherry appeared before him.

He bumped into her. His arms reached out and wrapped around her to keep her from falling down.

She took advantage of his momentum and kissed him.

He had frozen with the feel of her warm lips touching his. Against everything he had was and believed about the creatures that lived in the kingdom high in the mountains, he held her closer and took over the kiss.

Her soft hum of desire drifted up to his ears. Her fingers slipped into his hair. Their warmth was nearly burning. He jerked back at that reminder that she wasn't human.

Sherry's eyes were glowing again as she took deep breaths to calm down.

"Max, I--"

"I have to go." He sprinted away from her.

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

Months continued with seeing her like this. He actually found himself longing for her the moment they parted. He still fought against his growing attraction, but would succumb at weak moments to either holding her or kissing her.

Then he began to actually listen and talk to her.

After a year, he finally accepted that they were meant for one another. Once he did, they began to talk of a possible future together.

"Where could we live?" He asked. "I can't live in the Dark Kingdom. After my years of hunting, I'll be killed as soon as I step into the town square."

"I can live down here." Sherry rested her head against his chest.

"Can you?" He nudged her chin up to look into her eyes. "What about your duties to Liam? What about Rashad? Your bond, is it like Savannah's? I can't ask you to do what she did. She suffers daily with missing Drake."

"Mine isn't a blood oath, more of a way of life." She explained. "Liam and I are family." She gently caressed his cheek. "And he is so happy that I've found you "

"He knows?"

"Of course." Sherry laughed. "Liam, Rashad, and I have no secrets."

"And they're fine with you being with a man who hunts his kind?" Maxwell asked.

"We know you don't do it without provocation." She explained. "If you were a sadistic killer going after the innocent, then we wouldn't allow you to live."

"What about Constantine?" His eyes narrowed in concern. "Something tells me he wouldn't be so understanding."

"You're right." She lowered her eyes. "That's why I haven't told him."

"Sherry." Maxwell pulled her closer to him. "Would he hurt you if he found out? Like what he tried to do with Savannah?"

"I'm... I don't think so." She rolled away from him to look up at the night sky. "My discovering that you're my mate wasn't a choice like what Savannah did. And being with you won't hurt Liam."

"Are you certain?" He propped himself up on his elbow.

She sighed. "About us, yes. About the king, no." She finally shared what was worrying her. "Ever since the attack, King Constantine has been acting strange."

"How so?"

"He doesn't spend as much time with our people as he used to. He rarely leaves his chambers. He has begun pressuring Liam to either find a mate or arrange a marriage." Her brow furrowed. "He seems almost obsessed on making certain all possible enemies are destroyed."

"Enemies like me?” He asked. “Olivia?"

"Yes." She wrapped her arms around him. "He has plans for Olivia. He fears she will extract revenge on him by killing Liam."

"I see." Maxwell rubbed his brow, trying to see a way out of this.

He didn't know if he could protect everyone.

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

Now...

Maxwell searched his pockets for his cell. He didn't recognize the number but knew that whoever had this number was in need of his hunting services.

"Hello."

"Lord Beaumont?" A cultured voice asked.

"Yes." He hurried into his room when he heard Bertrand and Savannah talking a little ways down the hall. "Who is this?"

"Lorelei Lee." She replied.

"Lady Lorelei." He remembered her from his mother's stories. "How can I help you?"

"My daughter and her friend have got it in their heads to come visit Cordonia." She began. "I'm not certain how long they intend to stay, but I was hoping that I could retain your services."

"For what exactly?" Maxwell asked.

"Protection." She replied. "I have heard through certain channels that the dark prince is beginning to search for a bride." She took a deep breath. "We do NOT want our daughter anywhere near that vile creature."

"I understand." Maxwell replied. "I usually don't do personal security. With my brother retired," he grimaced at that, "it is left up to me to help protect Cordonia's borders."

"My husband and I would be in your debt if you could watch over her in the evenings." Lorelei cajoled. "I've heard that your brother is planning on extending his vineyards. We would be more than happy to invest in the production and distribution of his sparkling wine. Perhaps even let it be the only sparkling wine we serve in our hotels."

Maxwell rubbed a hand down his face. He knew his brother was anxious to succeed. Regina had told Maxwell recently that in order for the spell to be successful, Bertrand had to relax. Gaining not only an investor but also a permanent client would help relieve his troubled mind.

"Send me her information and picture. Call her and tell her that since our family is an old friend of yours, that I've volunteered to show them around. Find out where she's staying and when she plans on arriving."

"Oh thank you, Lord Maxwell. We--"

"I'll also need a contract prepared and signed for all that you offered." He added.

"Yes of course. I'll get everything to you at once."

He ended the call and tossed his phone down.

How had he gone from a monster hunter to a glorified baby sitter?

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

Later the next day, along Beach Cove, Cordonia...

"This place is gorgeous!" Riley dropped her luggage and darted from room to room. "I can't believe we can afford something like this for our stay!"

Hana was puzzled as she turned about. The two bedroom beach house was not what she had booked for their stay. Knowing they would be here close to a month, she had gone for a plain, simple rental without any view whatsoever.

"This can't be right." She turned toward the agent. "We were going with the home on Fourth Street."

The agent shook her head. "You were upgraded by a Lady Lorelei Lee."

"My mother did this?!" Hana couldn't believe it. "Did she say why?"

"It was meant as a surprise and a sort of welcome she told me." The agent handed her the keys and told her to call of they had any other needs. "Enjoy your stay, Lady Hana."

Riley walked back into the entry hall as the woman curtsied.

"Hold up." Her smile held a lot of humor. "Was I supposed to be doing that this whole time?"

Hana rolled her eyes with a giggle. "No. It's just the custom here when one is related to a noble."

"That is so cool!" Riley dropped into a deep curtsey that made her wobble. "My lady."

Hana laughed while dragging her luggage further into the house. "I suppose I can't banish you to the kitchens since you now recognize my rank."

"I don't know." Riley pointed out the modern appliances. "I might be happier stuck in there."

"I can't believe my mother did this."

"Maybe this is her way of showing her support or make up for not showing it these last couple of years." Riley offered.

Hana paused outside the bedrooms. "I suppose that's one possibility. I would have preferred she simply tell am that instead of doing all this."

"Look on the bright side. Our videos are now going to be even more popular with this backdrop." Riley opened up the doors. "Which room you want?"

Both were master suites with a wall of windows looking out towards Cordonia's sapphire waters. The sun was beginning to set, adding a brilliant orange to the rich blue.

"I call the pink sands one!" Hana dashed into it, quickly throwing her luggage on the bed.

"Hey!" Riley doubled over laughing when Hana's momentum caused her to get tangled up in the straps and be buried under her bags.

The two friends had begun the tradition of claiming beds and rooms from their very first trip. Whoever's luggage touched a bed first, it was then hers for the rest of the vacation.

"Looks like I get the nautical theme." Riley hefted her bags and set them inside.

Her room was tastefully done in blues and whites. A bottled ship sat upon the dresser while a nearby table had an old map of the surrounding area embossed upon it.

She explored the large closet and bathroom, thrilled with the large shower with multiple shower heads to help ease the tension of a long day of filming.

"I don't think I'll ever want to leave." Riley called out. "You think we could just make this our new permanent base of operations?"

"We could ask, but I doubt we could afford it." Hana replied. "Besides, I thought you said all paths lead to New York."

"I say a lot of things." Riley giggled as she dumped her clothes on the bed. "You should know that better than anyone." She began to randomly toss her things in dresser drawers before losing all interest in this one tedious part of traveling.

She left her remaining pile of clothes and decided to check out Hana's room.

It was the same as hers yet themed more toward the beach. Riley bit back a smile at seeing Hana carefully unpack and hang her clothes one at a time. She didn't know how she had earned her friendship when they were so completely different.

She was truly grateful to have her as her best friend. No one encouraged or believed in her like Hana.

"Aren't you going to unpack?" Hana asked.

"I will." Riley paused when the phone on the nightstand began to ring.

Hana stared at it too in surprise. No one ever called them directly at the places they rented.

"It could be the agent." Riley told her as Hana picked it up.

"Hello?" Hana's eyes widened at the voice on the other end. "Mother! I don't know what to say. This is so generous to--who? Lord Beaumont?" She sat down on the edge of her bed. "He did? That is very kind of him, but we usually try and discover hidden gems for ourselves. I--no of course not!" Her head dropped. "I didn't mean to sound ungrateful--I mean--yes, but--yes mam."

Riley lifted an eyebrow when Hana placed the receiver down. "What's up?"

"Mother called upon an old friend of the family." Hana couldn't remember her ever mentioning this family before. "A Lord Maxwell Beaumont, brother to the current Duke of Ramsford, is going to be our guide around Cordonia during our visit."

"Whoa." Riley's brow furrowed. "The entire time?"

"Apparently." Hana's brow furrowed. "I don't know why she would insist on his company unless...oh no!" She dropped her head in her hands.

"What is it?" Riley sat down beside her and gently patted her back. "Hana?"

"I think she's trying to matchmake me to this Lord Beaumont!" Hana cried out. "She won't ever give me a chance to simply live my life as I see fit, will she?"

"He might actually be the kind of guy who loves showing off his country." Riley pointed out. "Even if your mother is hoping you two decide to marry, you don't have to do anything you don't want to."

Hana nodded, feeling her confidence return with Riley's reminder. "You're right. I'm certain I can rebuff any advances he might give."

"Don't rebuff him just yet." Riley teased. "We need to see the hotspots and he might be cute." She covered her face after Hana hit her with a pillow.

The pair fell into giggles once more as the excitement of discovering all that this country had took over once more.

They knew this would be a trip they would never forget.

Maxwell x Sherry moodboard.

#choices the royal romance #liam x riley #maxwell x oc #maxwell x sherry #trr dark au #trr vampire au #leo x made #trr drake #trr olivia #drake walker #maxwell beaumont #olivia nevarkis #leo rhys #prince liam #trr madeleine #trr regina

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dragonsareourfuture · 4 years ago

Text

Matsuda/GN!Reader — Promise

Here’s a longer oneshot for a man who is often forgotten. Lovely Matsuda, you have a huge place in my heart.

This wasn’t an afternoon like any other.

No, shut up! It’s the same as any other day.

Something big was about to go down.

It’s not big, it’s normal! Normal sized, normal day!

Your heart was practically beating out of your chest, slamming against your rib cage so hard you swore it made your body sway a tad bit forward.

Everything is going to go fine, no disasters.

You stood in front of your mirror, combing out your hair. The bathroom was dead silent save for your short, uneasy breaths. You tried your best to draw them out to how you normally breathed, but you began to try so hard to breathe normally that you forgot how you normally breathed altogether.

Is this pace too slow? Am I not getting enough air? Is that why the room’s spinning or am I just panicking for no reason?

You weren’t panicking. You swear you weren’t. Maybe you were just breathing so fast and your heart was racing so much because you were dying! Yeah, that could be it! You almost preferred that possibility to what you were in store for later that evening — something set to occur around 6:00 pm sharp. Dinner. Doesn’t sound so bad right?

Wrong. You almost laughed at yourself bitterly for thinking so absurdly — doesn’t sound so bad? Maybe when you don’t have all the details. So, let’s rephrase that, shall we?

Dinner. With your boyfriend’s parents.

Ah, speak of the devil. You turned around at the sound of a light knock at the bathroom doorframe. Touta Matsuda, the adorable little puppy dog of a human, stood with his fist still curled and his knuckles against the doorframe. He asked you if you were nearly ready to head out, his dark eyebrows upturned with light creases denting his forehead.

You jolted. With a lightening fast grab at your phone you tore it from its spot on the counter and looked at the time — how was it already 5:40!? Hadn’t you started brushing your hair around 4:00? You didn’t even want to begin to think about the fact that you’d been standing at the mirror for forty whole minutes telling yourself you weren’t panicking. And the worst part — that reverse psychology didn’t even leave a mark! Your chest still felt tight and nothing felt right. Oh no... you’re thinking in rhyme. You had to do something quick, before you started to speak in riddles like some kind of bridge troll.

“Hey, Teddy Bear?”

“What’s up? You don’t look too good...”

Even staring at yourself in the mirror for nearly an hour didn’t allow you to notice until Matsuda pointed it out. When you looked back at your reflection, you saw the truth in his statement. You looked very put together overall — clothes neat and without a single crease marring the fabric — but your face was paler than it had ever been before. Your eyes had sunken from lack of sleep, as you were tossing and turning for hours the previous night just thinking about your arrangement for that evening. You just looked scared.

“I’m gonna be completely honest with you,” you began, stepping closer to your boyfriend and weaving your arms around his waist. The soft fabric of his dress shirt calmed you enough to get the words out without choking on them. “I’m really, really nervous about tonight. They’re gonna hate me for this—“

“Hey, don’t say that! It’s no one’s fault that we‘ve both been too busy to formally meet my folks since we started dating. I mean, I am a cop after all, and this case hadn’t exactly been easy on me or anyone on my team.” Matsuda reasoned. It was always hard to argue with him when he had this whole “optimist” thing going on. He was just too cute and cheerful to claim anything he said was a lie.

You sighed, trying to fight back with more doubts, “But it’s been forever. They’re gonna think I’m avoiding them or something!”

“Nonsense! If anything they’ll be grateful for you taking care of me every night when I get home from work. I still don’t know how you do it. You’re too patient with me, babe! Not that I’m telling you to stop, of course! It’s— well, you know what I mean!”

Dammit, Matsu’s cuteness struck you down once more and, against your will, you were forced to give into his positivity. You let out a laugh, tightening your grip around his waist and resting your chin on his broad shoulder. “Yeah, I guess so.”

But he was forgetting one little thing. You had absolutely no idea what kind of people Matsuda’s parents were, so how they would react to something like this was beyond your comprehension. Though, you didn’t think terrible people could have produced someone so pure hearted and precious. Still, you had no idea how formal they were, if they cared whether you told them yet or not. If they were opposed to how you were going about this or if they would support you. And Matsuda, being the kind person he was, wanted to tell them the important news in person, so there was no avoiding this any longer.

“Listen, I...when we talked about marriage I didn’t agree to it despite my parents.” Matsuda hummed, taking hold of your lower back to pull you closer to him as a gesture of comfort. “They know you exist, at least! They know we’ve been dating for a while and they know you make me happy. So what would be the issue?”

You sighed, rolling your eyes and dropping your forehead onto his shoulder. Goddammit, he’s right.

You just had to make Teddy Bea— Uh, Matsuda’s parents like you! Then they’d support your relationship, and in turn your decision to get married. End of story. Well, you’d have to see them again, like at the wedding, but you’d cross that bridge once you got to it!

Yeah, okay. Maybe, with the comfort of your fiancé beside you (was is okay to call him that? You haven’t even bought an engagement ring yet...), just maybe, you could do this.

Probably.

This shit’s gonna be easy, you told yourself. And, you know the funny thing? You actually started to believe it.

It was like all of the comforting words Matsuda blessed your ears with earlier actually had some effect and, now that you stood at his parent’s doorstep, the tight feeling in your chest had eased up. Your head stopped pounding with your own heartbeat drumming in your ears. You felt comfortable, even when Matsuda knocked on the door before taking ahold of your hand.

Soon enough, an older woman answered to the knocks. Her face, marred with smile lines, brightened at the sight of you two. She was on the shorter side, but by no means did she appear weak. Her hands held a strong grip on the door as she held it open, and such energy gave off a giddy and caring aura about her. She stepped aside and held a hand out, gesturing for you to come in with a cheerful call of “Hello there! Oh, come in, come in. Honey, they’re here!”

You allowed Matsuda to take the lead, guiding you inside behind him, connected by your hands still. With only a few steps, the slight bite of the chilly fall air outside had vanished in an instant only to be replaced by a warm and fuzzy atmosphere. It had the air of a home that was prepared for guests, which served to make your heart flutter at the idea that you were important enough to make people want to prepare their home for you.

A staircase occupied the farthest wall to the right, and beyond that led to a dining room. While candles dotted the table, plates were set up neatly in front of every chair for four people. The burning candles gave off the scent of a pine forest, filling your nostrils and effectively making you even more calm. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

Another set of footsteps was soon given a face — a tall, lanky man with the same messily styled and dark hair as your beloved boyfriend — presumably Matsuda’s father. This presumption was made into fact as the man glommed into Matsuda, patting his back and barely giving your boyfriend any air in his lungs to speak properly.

“Hey, mom! Hey, dad! I really missed you guys. Whatever you’re cooking smells amazing, too!”

You couldn’t say he was wrong. You couldn’t really place it with the pine scented candles mixing with the scent, but whatever it was, it was making your mouth water.

“O-oh, um, this is (Name). They’re that person I was talking to you guys about on the phone the other day,” The now suddenly bashful Matsuda introduced on your behalf.

“Hi there, it’s really nice to meet you both!” You greeted, shameful that you didn’t think to say something sooner.

“Oh, well aren’t you just the sweetest thing? Come this way, dear, don’t just stand around!”

“O-oh, alright—“

“So!” The boisterous man by Matsuda’s side called. He clapped his son on the shoulder, looking from him to you with a teasing quirk in his brow. “You’ve finally decided to come visit now, have you?”

“Oh, don’t give them a hard time!” Matsuda’s mother interjected, holding up a nearby dish towel with a threatening glower, no real malice behind it. Matsuda’s father held up his hands in mock surrender.

You smiled, forcing the corners of your lips upwards although you couldn’t force it to meet your eyes. you felt absolutely terrible. These people opened up their home to you, cooked for you, let you go out with their son, and yet you couldn’t tell them that you wanted to marry their son, and he wanted the same. Occasionally you shared a glance with Matsuda, who only stared back with eyes that said “not yet”. And you hated the fact that you felt overwhelming relief each time you received that look from him. The fact was — you didn’t want to tell them. If you did there would be no going back, no do-overs. But at the same time you wanted to get it off your chest more than anything in the world. You wanted their son’s hand in marriage. That’s not usually anything to sneeze at.

And yet, all you were doing was lying to their faces. Well, was it lying if all you were doing was keeping something from them? Was it just as wrong? Of fucking course it was. There’s no way out of this one, you’re a horrible person and that’s that. Shit.

Even as you all sat at your designated seats around the dinner table, not a peep left your mouth. As Matsuda’s mother began to dish out servings of her incredible-smelling cooking with the help of her husband, you only uttered words of thanks. You really couldn’t thank them enough, considering the bomb you were about to drop onto their lives.

You all ate peacefully with the light conversation making it’s way around the table. Matsuda and his parents were quite possibly the easiest people to talk to that you ever did meet. No joke had to be held back for fear of being judged, and a few of your little comments caused Matsuda’s father to choke on his food from laughter. You and Matsu’s mom took to ganging up on the men for their apparent shared habit of snoring like a monster at night, the both of them getting defensive with claims that they had no way to control that kind of thing. You and Matsu even shared a few stories from your albeit limited amount of time alone together, going to the park or visiting a museum. It was only when a lull in conversation caused a bout of silence to overtake the room did you look to Matsuda for some assistance in keeping up conversation, only to find him looking at you with determined eyes.

Oh. So it was time, was it? Alright, you could do this.

You breathed in deeply through your nose, clasping your partner’s hand under the table.

“Mom, dad? We uh...Well, we have something to tell you,” Matsu admitted, his voice starting out as nothing more than a whisper and gradually increasing in volume. You rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand.

“Oh? Good news or bad news?” His mother inquired, eyebrows creasing slightly with a tinge of worry which the playful tone in her voice failed to mask.

“I hope you think it’s good news! Uh, so, (Name) and I...well, it’s good to see that you guys seem to be getting along well! Can I just say that before I start? Yeah...so. Okay, um—“

“Son, you know you can tell us anything. Just say it, we won’t be angry with you.” Something in the older man’s tone told you he already somewhat caught on to the situation. He just wanted to hear it from his son first, which was understandable.

“We’re going to get married,” Matsuda blurted. The slight jitters you felt in his hand eased up immensely after he said it. His shoulders relaxed and his lips stretched with a smile. “We aren’t exactly sure when or where, we don’t even have the rings yet, but we’ve talked it through and...well, we’re doing it.”

Your gaze, which was fixed on your Teddy Bear throughout his entire explanation, absolutely adoring the loving glint in his eyes as he talked about your future together, shifted back to his parents. What you were met with did not exactly please you.

“...oh. Well, dear, I...”

“It’s not that we aren’t happy for you two, don’t get us wrong...”

It took you a while to completely comprehend what you were hearing.

“What...? You don’t want us to get married?” Matsuda chimed in before you could say anything, not that you were even sure that you could.

“We didn’t say that!” The older woman defended, inching up to sit on the edge of her seat. Ah, yes. Battle mode. “Far from it, actually. All we want is for you to be sure that you’re ready.”

Matsuda’s dad nodded, continuing with his wife’s sentiment, “You said yourself that you’ve been too busy to come see us, so how much of that time have you really had with each other?”

You couldn’t even argue against them. It was true, you and Matsuda haven’t really been able to spend a ton of time together lately. Perhaps marriage was what you both seemed to agree would act as a patch — something you thought would fix your issues as soon as you could call Matsuda your husband. But how much better off would you be after that?

“I...mom, dad...” Matsuda’s words faded, disintegrating into nothingness as his hope seemed to do along with it. He hung his head as his grip on your hand loosened but, before it could completely slip from you, you clasped it tightly.

“Thank you so much for your advice,” you said, marveling that you managed to keep your voice from wavering. “We’ll think it over.”

The burn of Matsuda’s eyes could practically be felt boring into you. You knew he was upset, you knew he was confused. But the very last thing you wanted to do was end the night on a bad note. You could try your best to save what was left of your first impression dinner and talk about this later. When you were alone.

“...yes, o-of course. Ah, would anyone like a second helping?”

About an hour of stiff conversation and shifting glances later, you and Matsuda decided that perhaps it was time to leave.

He hugged his parents goodbye with noticeably less enthusiasm than he had when he’d first greeted them, and you took to simply waving and thanking them for the meal.

Once you were outside, a shiver ran down your spine. The temperature had dropped considerably, now with the moon in place of the sun overhead and clouds of fog taking to the air every time you exhaled.

“I’m...I’m sorry,” you heard from beside you. Your head swiveled to meet the eyes of your boyfriend only to find that his were directed towards the ground. “That didn’t go as I thought it would.”

Your mouth opened to answer, only to close again. It was easier to grab his hand, which was swinging limply at his side, at thread your fingers through his. So, that’s what you did.

Matsuda flinched, eyes shooting toward the point at which your hands were connected, staring at it with wide eyes. Once he was over his shock, he gave you a grin — a smile that turned his eyes into crescents and warmed his cheeks with a soft blush. That smile was what always told you that everything would be okay.

You stopped walking so suddenly that Matsuda nearly tripped trying to stop in time.

“What’s wrong? (N-name!?)”

Matsuda covered his mouth as he stared down at you, now kneeling on one knee in front of him. You never let go of his hand, but kept it clasped in yours. Your lips met his knuckles, thumb brushing over the spot that you kissed afterwards.

This was not the end of the world. So you shouldn’t get married, so what? It’s not like that’s your main goal anyway. Marriage — your method of escape from actually facing your problems — would have to wait. Big deal. That just left more time to spend with your adorable Teddy Bear without the stress of a wedding hanging over your heads. Any breaks you two had in work could be used to get to know each other better, relearn those things about each other that might have slipped from your memories due to time apart.

“Touta, I love you. I love you too much to let this stupid disagreement do any damage to our relationship. I want us to become stronger because of this. We don’t need a legal binding to tell us that we belong together. So, this isn’t a proposal, but a promise — Whether we’re married or not, I will do my best to make you the happiest man alive and let you know each and every day how much I care for you. And, if we still want to, later on when we know we’re in a stable place, we can get married.”

A splash of water hit the ground in front of you. You blinked, expecting more to come in the form of a rain shower until you realized that water was the tears still rolling down Matsuda’s rosy cheeks. “Yeah, that—“ he sniffed, wiping his face with the sleeve of his jacket, “—that sounds good.”

“Just good?” You joked.

“A-amazing? I can’t really find the words right now...but I do want everything you just said. I’m just a little surprised that, what with how tonight was going with me consoling you, you’d end up doing the same for me by the end!” The ravenette scratched the back of his head, averting his eyes, “I d-don’t really feel like the one wearing the pants in this relationship right now!”

“Who said you were in the first place?” You muttered, rising to your feet and heading off toward your car.

“Wh-wh-what!? Hey, get back here!”

#death note #death note one shot #longer oneshot #death note matsuda #matsuda death note #touta matsuda #touta matsuda x reader #death note Matsuda x reader #x reader #reader insert #x reader oneshot #reader insert oneshot #death note x reader #death note reader insert

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anthrofreshtodeath · 4 years ago

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Inspiration struck last night 👀 - putting this here so you can let me know if it's worth continuing/if you would want to read more of it. Super AU!

Jane cut the engine of her Ford Ranger just outside the tiny strip mall off of Sixth Street. It had been a splurge just after she got brought on as the head baseball coach of Empire High School, a treat for herself for finally getting a big-person job and generating some regular income. Her mother had convinced her to do it, actually, because Jane had been on the fence for months, waffling so many times that Angela piled her in the family Buick and dropped her off at the dealership. Find your own way home, Angela had said, and it better be in that brand new truck.

Now, Jane was thankful for the push, because southern California summers in her old Civic with the busted A/C were no fucking joke. They were still no joke now, but at least she could blast cold air on her face when needed. Like now: even at six thirty in the morning, temperatures climbed above eighty in early August, and she settled into the discomfort of an already damp back. At least her front still looked fresh. She glanced in the rearview mirror one last time before she got out, taking off her adjustable black cap with her school’s insignia and smoothing the tied-back black hair on top of her head. Presentable and believable: a baseball coach with a ponytail and a Nike dri-fit short sleeve windbreaker over her t-shirt.

She hopped out, satisfied enough to not be looking like a hooligan, and when she planted her turf shoes, she could tell the asphalt was already on fire. The boys were gonna be whiny as hell this afternoon. That made her grin just a little bit. She ambled up to the donut shop-slash-panaderia on the corner, straightening her posture when the door jingled and signalled her entry.

The short, middle-aged woman with her graying hair in a bun and an apron around her waist brightened when Jane approached the counter. “Buenos días, Coach Rizzoli,” she greeted with a smile and voice so cheery, she’d obviously been up for hours already. Probably baking as Jane finished weight-lifting in her backyard before the sun came up.

Jane smiled softly in return. “Buenos días, señora Gutierrez,” Jane said, deferential even though at nearly 5’11”, she must have been almost a foot taller than Mrs. Gutierrez. “Como está?” Short Spanish phrases sounded pretty darn good in her mouth, she had to admit, for all the Sicilian she heard growing up, and for being a product of Santa Ana. Spanish was more common than English in a lot of her friends’ homes growing up, so she caught on quick. At least enough to carry on a polite conversation, if needed.

“Bien, gracias. Tengo sus conchas aquí,” Mrs. Gutierrez asked as disappeared behind the counter to find what she was looking for, Jane’s order, reappearing with six pink donut boxes.

Jane opened her nostrils wide to take in the smell of flour, sugar, and a hint of cinnamon for the white conchas, her favorite. It was enough to feed a small army, which felt just about right for the staff meeting she had been tasked with supplying breakfast for. The first of the new school year. “Qué bueno,” she replied, not sure if she was referring to Mrs. Gutierrez’s overall well-being or the pan in the boxes. She pulled out her cash to pay, slipping her wallet in her back pocket, and in the seconds that it took her to do that, a single, piping-hot styrofoam cup of coffee appeared on the counter in front of her.

“Y un cafecito come le gusta,” said Mrs. Gutierrez with a wink and a smile. Occasionally, she did this, and it was her way of taking care of Jane, one of their family’s best customers.

Jane had learned not to refuse it. She just blushed and bowed her head a little bit, her lips pursed in a bashful smile. “Muchisimas gracias,” she said, taking a sip. Mrs. Gutierrez always left the cinnamon stick in it and added minimal creamer, just how Jane liked. Jane held back a moan. She decided she’d partake of the rest in the car, and then pocketed her change. She picked the boxes up by the string tied to them and huffed, ready to begin the day. “Y el Jonny?” she asked, and Mrs. Gutierrez nodded her head towards the back of the bakery.

Jane nodded and made her way toward the door so she could pop around. “Qué tenga un buen día, Coach,” Mrs. Gutierrez called after her.

“Igualmente!” Jane replied, already on her way. She deposited her haul on her front passenger seat, keeping her coffee in hand, and then walked over to the alley between the Gutierrez bakery and the block wall separating it from the Cardenas market just across the way. She put her hat back on, threading her ponytail through its opening, and adjusted her Oakley sunglasses as she stood by the dumpster that Jonathan Gutierrez currently filled with broken-down cardboard boxes.

He heard her shoes scuffling his way, so he turned. “Coach Rizzoli! It’s early as hell,” he said, “what’re you doing here?” He sweated through the ribbed tank on his torso and the black basketball shorts on his hips. Jane commiserated, having helped her dad out on many a plumbing job in the summer when she was in high school.

“Well, first day for teachers is today,” she said, sipping her drink. “And I had to get some of your mom’s pan for the meeting. They’d expect nothing less. I’m here lookin’ at you because she exhausted all my Spanish skills, and I needed to remind you that practice starts at one today.”

Jonny, as tall as her, lanky too, smirked. “I’m sure you could’ve found a way to say that to her,” he teased, knowing that she couldn’t have, not well.

“You’re a riot. One o’clock, and not a minute later, a’right? I will not hesitate to bench our centerfielder for opening day if he’s late,” she warned. Then she started to turn.

“That’s like seven months from now!” Jonny whined, setting his box cutter down and running a hand through his thick black hair. “I got work today! Last day before school starts next week!”

Jane rolled her eyes. “The perfect hair thing may work on the girls at school, kid, but it won’t work on me. Find a way to make it happen - if you get into Fullerton, it won’t be because I sent you, but because you did it on your own. Part of that means showing up to practice on time. Even in August.”

Jonny sighed. His mom would understand, but his wallet would be crying. “I’m tryna save up for a pickup like yours, though, Coach,” he tried, batting his eyes for extra sympathy.

Jane laughed, and then he did. “Listen. You show up for practice on time every day this year, and you and me’ll have a talk about replacing today’s wages for that new Ranger, a’right?”

“Ok,” Jonny said quietly. He knew that Jane knew they didn’t have much money. And he knew that she knew most everything about him - she meant what she said. She’d taken him under her wing when she’d noticed his boundless talent and his faltering attendance. When she found out it was to make enough money to keep him and his brother on the team, she’d covered the cost in full. That was two years ago, and now that Jonny was an incoming senior, they’d righted the ship together. There was only a little more to go until he applied to the school of his dreams, the one with the killer baseball program and just miles from home.

It didn’t hurt that Jane was the first woman to play ball there as a range-y second baseman, was eventually drafted from Fullerton. He wanted to follow in her footsteps as best he could. “Good. See you then, kid,” she said. He knew that she knew the best way for him to do that was to grind. To eat, sleep, drink, and shit baseball.

“Hey Coach!” He called after her as she made her way back into the alley.

She turned around. “What’s up?”

“I wanna focus on my forearms this year. Should I go the Altuve way?” he asked, smiling.

The Jose Altuve way: banging sledgehammers into tractor trailer tires. Jane guffawed. “I’m not saying do it, but I mean hey, guy’s 5’5” and hitting thirty dingers a year in The Show, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jonny said. “I’ll take it under advisement. Thanks,” and with that, he waved Jane off. She spent the rest of the ride to school thinking about how to safely incorporate forearm work into the team’s regimen in a way that didn’t involve sledgehammers.

The bread had made her truck smell like heaven, and it was the perfect olfactory accompaniment through the working class neighborhoods of Coronita Heights - the part that she felt more comfortable in. She’d grown up down the 91 in Santa Ana, one of Orange County’s most vibrant cities, and her street looked a lot more like these than the ones that Empire High School sat on.

But Empire was one of the top 15 baseball programs in the state, and she had jumped at the opportunity to coach when she’d been approached about it. She packed the few boxes from her parents’ house, used the rest of her signing bonus to put a nice down payment on a house in Coronita Heights, and hadn’t looked back. It had been good for her - she kept in shape, used that teaching credential she’d worked on at Fullerton to teach PE, and led the Knights to a CIF championship in the five years she had been there. She hunted another.

Soon, the burger joints, smoke shops, and insurance spots gave way to expensive houses and palm trees, and she saw the massive campus come into view. She hopped out of the truck once she parked near the office toward the front, downing her coffee and tossing it in the trash. She tugged her belt, looped through her white baseball pants, making sure the fit was good, and then she took the breakfast out.

Another school year was about to begin, and she was determined to make it a victorious one.

___

Maura smoothed her dress in the full-length mirror of her bedroom for what must have been the hundredth time. It was tasteful: sleeveless, dark blue, with a thin black patent-leather belt around its waist. She paired it with black heels, and she looked good. She knew, intellectually, that she did, but this happened every time she started something new: the nerves kicked in and she doubted herself. She curled her impeccably styled hair behind her right ear out of habit, and then made her way downstairs for breakfast.

Her palatial home in Anaheim Hills sat overlooking the city below, still sleepy at six-thirty in the morning. She was anything but, having already completed her run and entire grooming routine. She perused the options within her double door refrigerator, still quite imposing even under the expansive wooden beams on the ceiling that ran from wall to wall. She thought about eggs, protein always a good start to the day, but then remembered the expected temperature and decided a cold breakfast of yogurt and berries would be best.

Again, it was too hot for warm coffee, but the massive cold brew dispenser she had readied just a few days prior called her name and she filled a tumbler with it and her favorite almond milk creamer. She’d have one cup with breakfast and a refill for the road, as she always did from May to October. She reveled in routine; it was what helped her not to shake as she brought a spoonful of honey, dairy, and strawberry up to her lips.

Today, despite her several years of doctoring, would be her first job with the living since residency. In fact, it would be her first non-clinical job, well, ever. Even when she had volunteered for research, it had been in pathology labs, or oncology centers, or Alzheimer’s wards. Now, she would head the pilot program for a pre-med track at Empire High School. Well, pre-pre-med, she corrected herself. The point of the program was to prepare students from non-private and non-charter school backgrounds for the rigor of medical school. And, as a graduate of the Geffen School of Medicine at UCLA, as well as Boston Cambridge University for undergraduate work, Coronita Heights Unified thought her very qualified to head its inception.

Maura was humble, so she did not consider that they also factored in her copious research articles within the field of pathology, nor her several awards from the Medical Board of California. But they did, and so today she started her teaching/counseling position that included Advanced Placement Anatomy and Physiology, as well as Advanced Placement Biology and an elective of honors molecular pathology to boot. She had negotiated that last one to retain a taste of her passion outside of teaching.

Satisfied both with her breakfast and her mulling, Maura rose from her stool at the kitchen island, its white marble counter still gleaming from its recent clean this weekend, and made her way to the sink. She rinsed her bowl, placed it in the dishwasher on the top rack with the others, and then washed her hands for twenty seconds. Soap on, palm scrub, back-of-the-hand scrub, webspace scrub, for as long as it took to hum happy birthday to herself, twice.

She reveled in routine.

She unscrewed the lid of her tumbler and placed it under the dispenser in the refrigerator again, watching dark coffee wash over ice cubes with pleasure. The properties of matter, their predictability and regularity, calmed Maura. She could predict where each rivulet would go with accuracy, and then watch the change of color with no surprise when she poured in her creamer. She could control how light or dark it became, and thus control its flavor. She savored that one last ounce of control before she screwed her lid back on and walked over to where her purse and rolling cart awaited her at the front door.

She took one last look behind her, at the open concept living room so large it needed a sectional couch that no one used because people hardly ever dropped by, at the kitchen with state-of-the-art, industrial appliances that often cooked meals for one. It was her home, even if all of that were true, and the way that the southern California sun poured in through her floor-to-ceiling windows thrilled her. It thrilled her the way it had the first time she set foot in LA, for her first day of classes. She let that embolden her as she locked the door and stepped into her S-Class.

Navigation popped up as soon the engine roared to life, already pre-programmed with the route to Empire High School. She saw the calculation of a twenty minute drive, rearranged a few numbers in her head as she thought about the day of the week, the time of the morning, and the unpredictability of the 91, and decided twenty minutes was probably just about right. She’d given herself a cushion for twenty-five, and with a glance to the men’s style cartier on her wrist, she smiled and pulled out of the garage towards the main drag that would lead her to the freeway.

She jumped out of nerves and surprise when the system notified her of a call coming in. She smirked when she saw the caller ID: Dr. Nina Holiday, Hoag Hospital. Maura pressed the call accept button. “Need a consult already, Doctor?” she teased, her own voice always just a bit foreign in the morning after not having heard it for hours.

Doctor Holiday scoffed on the line. “You wish,” she replied, and then there were beats of silence. “I just wanted to call to wish you good luck on your first day. And to see if you’d reconsider.”

“If this is Hoag’s way of trying to lure me back, by making their premier neurologist do all the dirty work, I think I’m going to have to pass,” Maura said, and Nina laughed.

“No, this is just a friend saying you’re gonna be missed is all,” said Nina. “But I respect what you’re doing.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it,” Maura demured. “Pathology is in... very capable hands with Doctor Pike,” she said, and then immediately the two women guffawed.

“You couldn’t even get it out before you started laughing!” Nina asserted, “see? We’re up a creek with no paddle!”

“Whom the department decided to hire in my stead is not my business,” Maura replied professionally, “especially if they do not take my recommendations into account,” and then with more spice.

“You right, you right. And I know I said it before, but I respect you for this. I think my road to medicine might have been a lot easier if I had someone like you at my high school to guide me through,” Nina said seriously. “Just answer me something: you didn’t leave because of Ian, did you?”

Maura stiffened. She hadn’t wanted to think about that on her first day, but here Nina was, dredging it up. Maura wrung her hands on her steering wheel. “No. Not really,” she answered, and that was the truth. The timing of it all had just been awful.

“Ok. I just… with him being gone, I didn’t know if that would be better, or if you’d be haunted by ghosts, you know? If you stayed.”

“I think I needed a fresh start either way, Nina. I really do,” Maura said.

Nina took the hint that they were done talking about it. Her voice turned chipper again. “I’ve got a call at seven, so I have to go, but I’ll talk to you soon, ok? You can tell me all about your first week. Maybe over bottomless mimosas.”

Maura sighed with relief. She would need that. “Sounds great. Nina?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for calling. I’m… I’m going to miss you, too,” Maura confessed.

“Aw, Doctor Isles, don’t get all mushy on me,” gushed Nina. “Bye. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye,” Maura said after the line had gone dead.

Nina’s call had lasted most of the ride. Maura was grateful. Nina had been one of the few people to get to know her at Hoag. The hospital itself had a very competent staff. Excellent, really. And Maura was one of the best, so this led to a never-spoken, always-felt air of competition. It didn’t really lend itself to friendship. But Nina had consulted with Maura so often, that a comfortable working relationship eventually morphed into a casual friendship. That turned into drinks on the rare weeknights they had off and brunch on Sundays at some of the best spots in Orange County.

They promised to continue, and they would of course, but for the first time in their friendship, they didn’t work a floor away from each other, and Maura resolved that while she would do everything to keep it alive, she had to acknowledge the change. Fittingly, as soon as she did so, she drove into the staff parking lot at Empire High. Her new beginning.

Her welcome e-mail mentioned a staff meeting today, Friday, in the lecture hall at the front of the school, refreshments provided. So, she pulled next to the gunmetal gray Ford Ranger to her right, and gathered her things. Her cart could wait until they were dismissed to ready their classrooms, so she deposited her fob into her purse and sipped on her coffee for fortitude as she followed the sidewalk pathway past the front office to the lecture hall. She had mapped out the route when she had found out about the meeting, deciding that touring campus on her own before she began would reduce her anxieties, as well as the possibility of unknown factors. It was also why she had arrived right on time: early meant possible one-on-one conversations with strangers, and late meant all eyes on her as she hustled in.

She pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head when she reached the glass double doors of the hall, and breathed in one last time. It was a big, 360 degree breath: it engaged her pelvic floor and spread her ribs equally. It lowered her pulse and calmed her nerves, and then she was ready.

When she entered, she heard chatter. Lots of it. When she turned the corner and yanked open the wooden door of the room itself, she was shocked to see what looked like most of the staff already deep in conversation in their seats. Some stood, others stretched their legs over a couple of seats at once, some laughed and some nodded seriously. For a moment, Maura panicked, then checked her watch again. She felt her heartbeat fall a little bit when she looked up to the front and realized that no-one had started the meeting. In fact, there was a small line at the sign-in sheet, so she decided that rather than have a breakdown in the walkway, she should join the line.

She mustered as much courage as she could and stood behind the last woman, who smiled at her politely. Maura smiled back and thanked whatever powers that be that the woman didn’t try to engage. The line moved quickly, and staff members grabbed what looked like sweet bread just off to the side of the table as they signed in. She forewent the sugar and decided just to take the requisite printouts instead. By then, things started to feel a little more like a normal job orientation, so she turned on her heels to make her way back to the crowd.

The confident turn ended up being another mistake, however, because as she started to walk, she saw no openings. It was like the middle of a very bad dream, in which she needed so desperately to blend in, but all she could do was stand out. She felt eyes on her as she passed tables full of other adults, she heard conversations quiet and alter when she walked by.

However, just as she was about to give up and stand all the way in the back, someone called out. “Hey,” the voice was firm, raspy, and kind. She turned instantly and it kept talking. “You need a spot? I was savin’ this one for my brother, but, big shocker, he’s late.” Seated at a table in the middle of the hall with an all-white backpack on the empty chair next to her, two aluminum bat handles sticking out on either side of it, was… “Oh, and I’m Jane. Rizzoli. By the way.”

Jane Rizzoli. Maura thought the name fitting. Jane was so tall and so dark-featured and so handsome that she needed an Italian surname. And by god, she had one. One with a trilled-r and a plural i and everything: it was perfect for her in the way that all its sounds signified abundance. Maura’s mind rambled and she caught it; she wasn’t even sure how the phonotactic rules of Italian applied to Jane’s physicality, but they did, and Maura sat next to her without hesitation. She chanced one glance to the length of Jane’s torso as she curled to put her elbows on the table, and then she met Jane’s dark brown eyes.

It was then that she realized that Jane probably awaited some kind of response. “Maura Isles,” said Maura, holding her hand out. Jane shook it and Maura was not at all surprised by the firmness of the shake.

“Hey Maura. I’m uh, I’m the head baseball coach here. I also teach PE,” Jane explained. Then she looked down at herself, her uniform and the bats in the backpack now on the floor. “But you probably guessed that.”

Maura smirked, and laughed softly. “I don’t like to guess. It puts people in awkward positions. But I would say there’s lots of evidence to that fact, yes.”

Jane laughed openly and then took her hat off. “Well, I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess you’re the hotshot doctor that they hired for our new pre-med pipeline.”

Maura raised a perfectly-sculpted eyebrow. “And why would you assume that?”

“You talk like a doctor. And you dress better than everyone else in this room. Real doctor-y,” Jane wagged her own eyebrows up and down.

Maura watched Jane’s crooked grin, rapt. “One…” she began slowly, “doctor-y is not a word. Two, what if I were independently wealthy and taught, oh say, English?”

Jane shrugged. “Words are made up. And are you? Independently wealthy?”

Maura’s mouth twitched in humor. “Yes,” she answered. Jane threw her head back in defeat. “But, I am also the doctor piloting the pre-med program here.”

Just like that, the slender column of Jane’s neck brought her head forward again. “Thought so!” she said. Just as she did, The man who Maura knew from his photo online as the school principal walked in. People started to hush as he made his way to the front podium. Even she turned her attention, until there was the distinct warmth of whispering by her ear that dismantled all other thoughts. Jane was speaking. “Well, Dr. Isles,” she responded, “welcome to Empire High, then.”

#rizzoli and isles #rizzles #lauren writes rizzoli and isles fan fiction #the high school teachers baseball California AU no one asked for lmao #not sure if it's too niche or if there'll be interest for it #but it feels like if I do continue it it should be long?#idk we'll see

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floral-and-fine · 4 years ago

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Mo Chuisle

Murphy MacManus x female reader

Connor MacManus x female reader

*Mo Chuisle- Irish Gaelic for My Pulse

Summary: The reader cares for the MacManus twins after they return to their apartment injured

A/n: Just thought this was a cute idea. Had a lot of fun writing this fic! Hope to write more soon! Thank you @ewokiee for all the help!

Y/n bit her nail, watching the seconds slowly tick by as she waited for the MacManus brothers to return home.

Sitting on the small table in front of her were bottles of rubbing alcohol, gauze, bandages, painkillers, needle, and thread, and in the freezer were several ice packs ready to go.

Y/n never knew what kind of shape they’d be in once they were done working. So she was always prepared for the worst. She didn’t have any professional training by any means, but she had picked up some basics when she learned what the twins did.

Since then, she had sort of taken it upon herself to watch over them, at least in her own small way, doing things like taking care of their injuries, bringing them home-cooked meals, and even covering for them by being their alibi on several occasions.

Getting up, y/n started to pace, there wasn’t anything around to distract her. The brothers’ apartment was sparse, to say the least, not many belongings or furniture, just the bare minimum.

Absentmindedly, her fingers began to play with the cross hanging from her necklace, sliding it back and forth against the thin chain. She rubbed her index finger and thumb along the center, feeling the grooves and edges of the engraving.

The necklace had been a gift from the boys as a thank you after the first time she cared for them.

She laughed lightly to herself, they had been so excited to give it to her, showing up at her door first thing in the morning.

“Mornin’ love,” Connor greeted, he was full of energy, practically bouncing with excitement. While y/n was still rubbing the sleep from eyes and wondering why the hell they were here so damn early.

“We got you a little something,” Murphy explained, smiling proudly as he pulled a necklace out from his jacket pocket.

She blinked in surprise looking at the sparkling gold chain that Murphy was dangling in front of her. He dropped it in her cupped hand. She took a moment to look at it, noticing the small engraving.

Her brows furrowed, not recognizing the phrase. ‘mo chuisle’

“C’mon now,” Connor urged. “Try it on.”

Y/n struggled with the clasp, her fingers having trouble manipulating the tiny parts.

“Here, allow me,” Murphy offered.

She turned around so her back was facing him, Murphy fingers tickled her neck as he took the two ends and securely clasped the necklace.

“Looks good on ya,” Connor said approvingly as she turned and faced him.

“Thank you,” y/n replied, getting teary-eyed. “I really appreciate it, but you guys didn’t have to get me anything.”

“It was nothin’,” Murphy shrugged, tucking his hands into his pockets. “You saved our asses the other night.”

“We’re just buttering you up, hoping you’ll stick around,” Connor winked.

Since then y/n’s worn it every day. It was her connection to them, keeping them close to her heart and on her mind.

Her eyes snapped to the door when she heard footsteps approaching. Rushing to it, y/n threw the door open and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw both Connor and Murphy standing there in one piece.

Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around them but pulled back immediately when they both hissed in pain.

“Sorry,” she stammered, clutching her hands to her chest.

Getting a better look at them, y/n noticed that Murphy had a black eye that was already swelling and Connor’s lip was busted and bloody. Quickly, she ushered them inside, Murphy used Connor for support as he limped into the apartment.

Y/n instructed them both to take their seats on the couch, and grabbed an ice pack from the freezer and wrapped it in a soft hand towel.

“Here,” she muttered, gently holding the ice pack against Murphy’s face.

“Thanks, love,” Murphy smiled, his fingers grazing over the back of your hand, as he held the ice pack in place.

Snagging one of the pillows off the closest bed, y/n placed it on the edge of the coffee table. Kneeling down, she undid the laces of his boot and took it off.

“Put your foot up,” she ordered him, before wandering over to the other side of the couch.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Sitting on the table, y/n leaned forward and gently started to wipe the dry blood from Connor’s chin and bottom lip. His eyes studied her face, admiring her as she worked. She was always careful, each touch was delicate and gentle, working slowly to avoid causing them more pain.

“This is going to sting,” y/n warned, wetting a clean washcloth with rubbing alcohol. He winced as she started to apply it to his cut. Leaning in, she gently blew air against the cut to help with the pain.

“That’s better,” she murmured, now that his face wasn’t all bloodied anymore.

Connor hummed closing his eyes, “you’re too good to us, lass.”

She shook her head, “I’m happy to do it, now let me see your hand.”

He chuckled, putting his hand in both of hers. Her thumb caressed his rough and bloody knuckles before she started to clean them off.

Gently, she wrapped a bandage around Connor’s hand and replaced the cap on the rubbing alcohol, before getting up and going to the fridge.

“So what exactly happened tonight?” She questioned, pulling out a couple of beers, removed the bottle caps.

The brothers gave each other a sideways glance.

“Why don’t you start it off,” Murphy smiled, patting Connor’s chest.

Y/n handed them each a beer and gave Connor her full attention as she sat between them on the couch.

“Well…” he began, licking his lips and sighing. “It all started with us busting the door open to the warehouse. The poor fucks didn’t know what to do.”

“Yeah, Connor and I withdrew our guns, and started shooting up the place,” Murphy added, while he imitated how with both arms out as he pretended to fire imaginary guns.

“We thought we had taken care of them all,” Connor nodded, taking a sip of his beer. “until this beast of a man came hurling at us out of nowhere,” he explained. “He must’ve been at least 7 foot, a real gigantic bastard.”

“Tackled me down,” Murphy butted in. “Gave me this shiner.” He pointed to his bruised up eye.

“So that’s when I leapt onto the bastard’s back and just started wailing on him,” Connor continued. “But he wouldn’t let up. Got me good with his elbow, too.” He gestured to his lip.

“Then, I reached out grabbing a brick, and I just bashed the fucker’s head in,” Murphy emphasized the point by reenacting how.

“Yeah and as we were trying to push the dead bastard off of him, this tiny man with crazy eyes sprung out from behind the crates,” Connor lifted up his shirt a bit, revealing the massive bruise on his side. “Whacked me a good one with a wood pallet.”

Y/n winced looking at the red blotch that was already turning purple.

“And while Connor was moaning on the floor,” Murphy recalled, nudging y/n. “I wrestled that little shit down-”

“Oh come off it,” Connor interrupted. “He tripped you and you fell on top of him… Wrestled my ass… pfft.”

“I’m just glad you're both alright,” she said, patting both of their knees. “Now let’s get you, boys, to bed.”

“You’re staying the night, right?” Murphy asked as he started limping over to his bed.

“Of course I am,” she said smiling. “My work isn’t nearly done.”

Murphy smiled back, pleased that she was going to be sticking around. “We owe you one, love, drinks on us tomorrow at doc’s.” He suddenly lost his footing as the room started to spin, catching himself on the edge of the bed.

“Murphy,” y/n rushed over to his side, and Connor right behind her.

“Shit,” he muttered, rubbing his head. “My head is fucking killing me.”

Connor and y/n helped Murphy into his bed. Y/n sat next to him, gently stroking his hair back.

“I think he might have a concussion,” she explained.

“What?” Connor’s face fell. “Really?”

Y/n looked at him and nodded.

“Fuck,” he sighed, kneeling beside Murphy’s bed. “Sorry about that.”

Murphy snorted, “will you two get ahold of yourselves! I’m not dying!” He sat up a little. “Hell, you’re making a bigger deal of this than the time I was shot!”

“Hey, we both got shot that day,” Connor argued.

Y/n laughed, “I recall being just as worried then as I am right now! I worry about the two of you every day.”

They both looked up at her with puppy dog eyes, “Sorry, we don’t mean to make you worry.”

“It’s alright,” she kissed Murphy on the forehead, then Connor. “At least I get to help.” Getting up, she wandered over to the table and started cleaning up.

Once she was out of earshot, Murphy leaned in closer to Connor. “I’ll be getting you back for this,” he whispered, looking Connor right in the eye.

Connor rolled his eyes, “please, you’re loving all this attention.”

…

Earlier that night…

Once the dust had settled, both Connor and Murphy simultaneously started to check themselves for injuries.

The scene around them looked as though a tornado made of bullets had swept through. Several Bodies were lying dead on the floor in puddles of their own blood. Guns were scattered on the ground along with empty bullet shells.

“You alright?” Connor asked, patting his chest and arms checking for any wounds.

“Yeah, I think so,” Murphy replied, extending arms out and examining himself carefully. There wasn’t a single scratch anywhere. “You?”

“I’m… good,” Connor said clearly surprised but pleased.

Both of them were wondering the same thing, how the hell did they survive that mess? They both turned around and looked behind them, the wall was littered with bullet holes, probably about a hundred of them.

Connor started to laugh, causing Murphy to laugh as well. “How the fuck did we survive that?” He breathed gesturing to the wall.

“Hell if I know,” Murphy sighed, crouching down and resting his elbows on his knees. “They must’ve unloaded every single round they had between them.”

“Even by chance one of us should’ve been hit,” Connor reasoned. Usually, by the end of the night, they’d both be a little scuffed up at least.

Murphy shrugged, “Guess we oughta be leaving.”

Connor narrowed his eyes as something dawned on him, and grabbed his brother’s arm. “Hit me.”

“What?” Murphy asked, backing away.

“Hit me,” Connor repeated.

Murphy furrowed his brow, “What for?”

Connor smirked. “Would be a shame if y/n ended up leaving early for the night,” he explained. “Should at least make her feel like she’s needed.”

Neither brother would ever admit it out loud, but they were rather fond of y/n’s doting, like how she’d fuss over every little cut, and catered to them, not letting either brother lift a finger while she was around. Sometimes, she would even go as far as spending the night and even the next day with them, if necessary. Those were the best days, getting to have her all to themselves for the whole day.

Murphy chuckled, “Ah, I see now, so we’re doing this for her sake?”

“Exactly,” Connor winked, clapping his brother’s shoulder.

“We do owe it to her,” Murphy nodded. “Wouldn’t want her feeling like she’s wasted her time.”

Connor took a step back and braced himself. Without hesitation, Murphy’s fist connected to his jaw successfully busting his lip. Connor stumbled back, and shook his head, spitting out a bit of blood.

“Alright,” Connor smiled, wiping his chin with his sleeve. “Your turn.”

#the boondock saints #boondock saints #connor macmanus #murphy macmanus #the boondock saints fanfic #connor macmanus x reader #murphy macmanus x reader #connor macmanus fanfic #murphy macmanus fanfic #reader insert #Female reader #norman reedus fanfiction

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clean-bands-dirty-stories · 4 years ago

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Breathe ~ the Doctor (part 5)

A/n: I should be doing requests... I’m sorry... I just really love Doctor Who and my only other option is to watch the show where I’m at in my rewatch rather than where I’m at in this fan fiction, and I just got to the episode where Ten becomes Eleven and I’m... not ready man. Dang it.

Word Count:11,000+

MASTERLIST

When the Doctor and Rose cornered Y/n with Mickey completely out of sight, Y/n knew this was another intervention. The last time they'd done this was when they'd asked him to stop killing himself to save others. A bit hypocritical coming from the Doctor, but understandable as well. Watching one of the people you love die is bad enough once, but multiple times? Yeah no.

This time, they all knew it was different without having to say anything.

Y/n had gotten rather good at steering the TARDIS. Recently the Doctor had been letting him do it on his own to give him the experience, which had given The Doctor more time to spend with Rose. Mickey had been glued to Y/n's side because of this, trying to avoid watching his ex be with someone else. His ex, who he still loved. It was getting awkward if they were all being honest. The Doctor and Rose had stepped away from each other a lot, and it was obvious it was rather unpleasant for both of them. Instead of sitting back and teasing Y/n or recounting adventures or dreaming up possible news ones, inches apart with the Doctor's arm around Rose's shoulders, now they just talked about things from a bit of distance, with much less enthusiasm and flirting. Y/n avoided the awkwardness by distracting Mickey and driving the TARDIS. In fact, he'd learned to ignore a lot of things he didn't want to acknowledge by driving the TARDIS.

Like now. Rose and the Doctor looked at him, arms folded and faces serious, as Y/n overly focused on driving the TARDIS. Finally Rose sighed, stepping closer. "Where do you guys want to go now? I think I have the hang of this for real this time! No accidents." He waited for them to take the ease poke fun, but when they didn't he pushed on hurriedly. "I love the ocean don't get me wrong, but an ocean on another planet? Not great to open the doors on, but fun to explore. We were just lucky there was that ship there." He chuckled, but it fell short again when the other two didn't laugh. He sighed, stopping. "What is it?" He amusement had fallen, his anxiety rising.

"A while ago when we were at that school with the-"

"Weird bat people who wanted to be gods so they could fix the universe?" Y/n offered.

"Yeah," Rose agreed. A smile slipped through for a second until she swallowed it. "Brother whatever his name was - Mr. Finch. He said... he said you had memories that weren't yours."

Y/n forced a chuckle. "That was a while ago, Rosey, why are we talking about it now?"

Rose shot the Doctor a look. "Someone wanted to ignore it as much as you do. But I think we need to talk about this, because secrets are making things difficult and talking about things going on is important. Especially if it includes other people."

Y/n sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know what you could mean."

The Doctor piped up then. "Gallifrey." Y/n jerked, his knuckles going white as he gripped the control panel. "Did I ever tell you about what it was like there?" Y/n didn't respond, so the Doctor continued. "It was different than your Earth, obviously. But not just different like we've seen in places like Earth - it was really different. It was breathtaking. There were two suns there, and silver leaves that glowed when the light touched them." His voice was almost reverent, and Y/n felt his chest hurt as the image came to his mind so clearly. "The sky was the same though. A beautiful blue-"

"Blue?" Y/n looked up at him with confusion, and immediately realized his mistake. When the two men locked eyes, there was pain mirrored in both.

"What color was it really?" Rose asked softly. She knew. Y/n knew she knew. He realized only too quickly how this had been planned out, so clear and easy, to drag the truth out of Y/n in a way that he could never deny.

Giving in, Y/n looked up at the TARDIS, as if seeing the sky in person. "Orange. This glorious burnt orange. Made the leaves on the trees... glow." His voice caught and he shot up a hand to his face to wipe away a tear. "The day it was actually on fire..." He closed his eyes. "It's so clear in my mind, that day. I wasn't even there." His hands shot to cover his face, his fingers threading through his hair and pulling lightly on the roots. "God I can hear it. I can hear the music and the wind and the laughter and voices. I can feel the sunshine on my skin, Doctor." His hands dropped, head falling forward. "It's so heavy."

The Doctor moved closer, hands resting on either side of Y/n's face. "I can take it away if you want."

"No." Y/n ripped away, leaning back. "I was given this for a reason. I see so much now. I understand so much more. It hurts, but why would you ever let that pain go? It makes you stronger. It teaches you things that make you understand more. I can see things when I look at people who are nothing like me. I can understand a pain I would never have been able to experience on my own, and through that pain I have learned mercy that I should be incapable of. That I would have always been incapable of." He had been looking at the Doctor while he spoke, but now he looked away again, bashful. "There's something special about having the memories of lives you never lived, as a human. You've always said we're special, Doctor. Us humans. I think it's nice, to have the mind closest to a god one can get, while still having the heart of a human."

It was quiet for a long time until Rose moved closer to Y/n, raising her hand to wrap around the back of his neck. She kissed his forehead. "What a trio we are, eh? The human, the alien, and the one who's a little combination of both." She nudged Y/n and they both chuckled.

Y/n looked at the Doctor. "I'm sorry. I know... it's something I wished you had given to me, if I had to be given it at all. I don't know why I got them at all, but I feel like its a super invasion of privacy and-"

"You remember everything?" Was all he asked.

Y/n swallowed. "Every single detail of your life until the whole Bad Wolf thing."

The Doctor moved rather suddenly, forcing Rose to move backward as he grabbed Y/n's face and kissed him. Suddenly Y/n's mind exploded with memories, both his own and the Doctor's. He saw himself tripping over himself as he ran through an empty street, too young to be on his own but in that situation anyway. Not sure where to go or what to do, but knowing that he couldn't stop running. A little older and running again, but this time in different clothes, a small dog at his side. Laughter rang through the dark street that was teasing a sun rise. Suddenly he was much younger and making his parents breakfast because they'd had a rough night and were both super hung over; the left side of his face still hurt, and his body was tired from the rough sleep he'd barely gotten. Older again, leaning against a wall, near a fire contained in a trashcan, as a pretty blonde girl approached him with wide eyes full of worry. A few months later, as they sat at the edge of a pond, talking and laughing. She had brought him food and was complaining about how lame school was, until he told her how behind school he was. The months that came after with her teaming up with tutors to teach him all the important things he'd missed, giving him a place to stay and a job where she worked by vouching for him. Celebrating his eighteenth birthday with her by his side, and realizing that night that he was in love with her because seeing her at the side of someone else made his blood boil. More recent things, right before the Doctor had met them, where Y/n rolled his eyes and had sass offs with Mickey, who could never quite keep up with him. Things that happened so incredibly long ago, from the days that were fuzzy but distantly warm, before his parents took the road that lead them to destruction. Days that were freezing cold as he clung to the clothes he had in some attempt to keep warm. Running for his life when he got caught stealing. Learning how to do it better over time. Dodging police and orphanages for years. The few times he'd been caught, and had a small reprieve of shelter and promised food and clothes before he had to leave the orphanage, or his short stay in juvey ended.

When the two men leaned away from each other, Y/n was crying. The Doctor rested his forehead on Y/n's, pulling him close. They didn't say anything for a long time. Rose reached out and placed her hand on Y/n's shoulder, and he pulled her in to make it a hug with her sandwiched between them. The two men squeezed until Rose was half giggling and half screaming at them and only then did they let her go.

"So," Y/n sighed, shifting gears. "Where do you guys wanna go next?"

This is where the Doctor took charge. "I have an idea. Here, help me - pull that thing over there."

Y/n and the Doctor zipped around. It was so much easier with help - Y/n didn't know how the Timelord had done it all these years. Even now it was chaotic... they landed fine enough though, and soon Mickey was joining them in the control room and Y/n felt guilty for having forgotten to go and get him when the conversation had shifted. He needed to be better to the man - being around your ex and her new boyfriends was bad enough, but the others were accidentally sending signals that Mickey wasn't wanted and it was an extra sting the boy didn't need.

Making a promise silently to himself, Y/n moved to Mickey's side when the TARDIS landed. "First time out and about with the Doctor is always a little bit of a shock. You won't have it so bad since you've gotten a taste of it before, but still. Having aliens come to you is a lot different than you coming to them, so brace yourself."

Mickey puffed up his chest and Y/n swallowed the urge to roll his eyes. "I'll be fine, but thanks for the concern, Captain." They all went outside, and Y/n kept an eye on Mickey as the man took in his first non-Earth alien experience. "It's a spaceship," Mickey squeaked, and Y/n tried to make his grin less teasing and more excited. He was after all rather enthusiastic to go wandering in unknown territory. "Brilliant! I got a spaceship on my first go."

Rose was less excited. "Looks kind of abandoned. Anyone on board?" Y/n realized that she was concerned for the people who should be here, and Y/n found his heart swelling. What a good woman.

"Nah. nothing here," the Doctor answered. He made a weird face then corrected, "Well, nothing dangerous." Y/n rose an eyebrow. "Well, not that dangerous." Y/n scoffed in amusement, shaking his head. This man... "You know what, I'll just have a quick scan. In case there's anything dangerous."

That reminded Y/n of Jack Harkness, back in the days before the man who the Doctor was now. When they'd first met the infamous Captain Jack, and Rose had teased about how official he was with his scanning for alien tech. That made him sad to think about though. Jack had died the day Y/n had. He wondered what things would be like if Jack had been brought back with him. Someone to lift this burden off of his shoulders. The fear of forever, where nothing ever lasts long enough. In the span of eternity, it would be nice to have a friend who could be by your side through it all.

The others talked as the lights came on but Y/n began to walk away from them, taking in all the new things and searching the Doctor's memory to see if he knew what this was. To his surprise, he didn't. Y/n turned back, moving to the others once again. "This feels wrong," he said.

The Doctor nodded. "Honestly, had some cowboys in here. Been a ton of repair work going on." He dropped a piece of equipment, using his now free hand to point at a screen. "Now if you really want to talk about odd, look at that. All the warp engines are going." His eyebrows came together. "Full capacity." He planted a hand on the desk, leaning on it, his other hand going to his waist. "That's enough power running through the ship to punch a hole in the universe..." He looked up.

"But we're not moving," Y/n pointed out. Suddenly there was something in the back of his mind, poking at him. It was a small bother, as if someone tiny was trying to get his attention at the corner of his vision. He couldn't quite put a finger on it though.

Nodding, the Doctor looked at Y/n. Finally they saw each other for what they both were. No secrets. What sat in Y/n's eyes still scared the Timelord, but it was a relief too. Maybe Y/n would understand him, as much as a human could understand. "The question is then, where's all that power going?"

"Where'd all the crew go?" Rose piped up, reminding the others in the room once again that there was no one on board a ship. One that they all now knew was at full thrusters and should be shooting through reality itself, but was standing still anyway.

"Good question," the Doctor complimented. "No life readings on board." He began to mess with the controls.

Rose sighed. "Well we're in deep space. They didn't just nip out for a quick smoke."

"Nope," the Doctor agreed. "I've checked all the smoking pods."

Y/n reached over, placing his hand on the Doctor's shoulder. "Doctor..." It had just clicked what had been bothering him. "That smell?"

Everyone took a good whiff. "Smells like someone's cooking." Rose placed her hands on her hips, looking like she was about to tell someone off for having fire indoors.

"Sunday roast, definitely," Mickey agreed.

Hitting a button in his fiddling, the Doctor hit a switch that opened a panel behind them. They turned and began walking into a new room. One that had... a fireplace. Odd. "Well." The Doctor slipped his hands in his pockets. "That's not something you see on your average spaceship." Y/n got excited, finally able to learn and explore, and took off to get a closer look. It seemed he had done so at the exact same second the Doctor had so they were side by side as the Doctor continued, "18th century French. Nice mantle." He took out his sonic screwdriver as Y/n ran his hands along the wood, feeling the detail and leaning close to get a good look.

"It's beautiful workmanship," Y/n whispered, in awe.

"Not a hologram either," the Doctor tagged on, after checking the thing with his screwdriver then slipping the tool back into his coat.

Something dawned on Y/n and his eyes widened. "And this isn't a replica, is it?" He looked at the Doctor, eyebrows raised.

"No," the Doctor agreed. "This is actually an 18th-century French fireplace."

Y/n narrowed his eyes. "Well how is that possible? In so much time passed, the only way this thing is in such good condition is if it was fairly new, or untouched. It would have gotten scuffed or broken, needed replacements in all that time." He jerked. "Could they be time travelers?"

"You know as much as I do," the Doctor answered. And it was true. Time travel wasn't a common thing. It wasn't technology the Timelords had shared with anyone else. It was highly unlikely at best, and even if that was the case, why would someone take a mantle out of time and use it to decorate a ship? There were better and far more easily accessed things. There was a second of silence as the two men searched for clues until the Doctor drew in a sharp breath. "It's double-sided. There's another room through there."

"It can't be," Rose contradicted as the Doctor kneeled down. Y/n followed him and the two leaned against each other to make room for both of them. "That's the outer hull of the ship," Rose continued. She was looking out a window. "Look." At her command, Mickey moved closer to her to inspect.

Suddenly, there was a child on the other side of the fireplace. The Doctor smiled. "Hello."

"Hello?" the small girl replied, obviously unsure. Y/n waved politely. She nodded in return.

"What's your name?" the Doctor asked.

"Reinette," the girl responded. Y/n was surprised by the child's willingness to share infomration. It was rather helpful, but still dangerous since she didn't know them.

"Reinette," the Doctor smiled. "That's a lovely name. Can you tell me where you are at the moment, Reinette?" Mickey and Rose crouched between Y/n and the Doctor, trying to see what was going on. Rose gasped quietly.

That seemed to confuse the girl. "In my bedroom?" she offered slowly.

"And where's your bedroom?" the Doctor clarified. "Where do you live, Reinette?"

"Paris of course," Reinette responded, shaking her head slightly. Y/n wanted to say somethingm but the Doctor had it handled and the child was probably a little overwhelmed with a bunch of strange people looking at her. Having more than one of them talk to her at a time might be overwhelming and could scare her off.

"Paris, right." The Doctor grinned, shaking his head, playing off that he was just silly or confused and not the truth, which was much harder to explain.

The girl seemed to have questions of her own. "Monsieur, what are you doing in my fireplace?"

"Oh it's just a routine... fire check," the Doctor lied on the fly. Y/n shook his head, trying to hide his smile. "Can you tell me what year it is?" the Doctor asked quickly, trying to cover up the obvious lie. "Can you tell me what year it is?"

"Of course I can," Reinette answered. She smiled, amused by the funny man in her fireplace. "1727."

Well that explained the fireplace. At least, where they got it. "Right, lovely, one of my favorites."

"You say that for every time," Y/n finally spoke up. "They're all your favorite."

"Well, yeah," the Doctor relented. "I will say, August of this year though is a bit rubbish, though. Stay indoors." He perked up. "Okay. That's all for now. Thanks for your help. Hope you enjoy the rest of the fire. Night night."

"Goodnight, Monsieur," was all Reinette said in reply. They all stood, facing each other away from the fireplace.

"You said this was the 51st-century," Micky reminded rather bitterly.

"I also said the ship was generating enough energy to punch a hole in the universe," the Doctor shot back immediately. "I think we just found the hole." They all looked back at the fireplace. "Must be a spatio-temporal hyperlink," he continued to himself.

"What's that?" Mickey asked.

"He made it up," Y/n scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"I didn't want to say magic door," the Doctor complained in response.

Rose tried a go at this whole thing. "And on the other side of the "magic door" it's France in 1727?"

"Well." the Doctor tilted his head. "She was speaking French. Right period French, too."

"No, she was speaking English. I heard her." Mickey's eyebrows were so pushed together his confusion seemed to turn to anger.

"No the TARDIS translates languages so wherever we go, we understand what everyone is saying," Rose explained eagerly, always happy to have her turn knowing what's going on. Her excitement was cute. They were a clever bunch, them. Well not Mickey, but the rest of them.

That was a rude thought. Perhaps the Doctor was rubbing off on Y/n a little more than he'd thought.

"Even French?" Mickey asked.

Y/n replied, "Obviously," at the same time that Rose gave a much kinder, more patient response of, "Yep." She nudged him and he smiled, playing innocent. They began migrating back toward the mantle, and Y/n crouched down, looking through the fire. Rose and Mickey were stepped back as Mickey tried to process the TARDIS when suddenly the floor began to move.

The Doctor had found a lever, and with victory, he pulled it. "Gotchya!" That's what made the floor move, as like a false bookcase in a murder mystery story, the whole thing spun so they were on the other side of the mantle, in the room where Reinette had been. Except... they didn't mean Mickey and Rose, because they'd been too far. Only by coincidence had Y/n managed to be close enough that when the thing turned, he had gone with the Doctor.

Y/n stood, eyes wide as he looked around the room with awe. He went to say something, but then his eyes landed on Reinette, who was asleep in bed. She looked sound asleep too, despite being wide awake and moving around and talking just seconds ago. Y/n and the Doctor exchanged wide looks. They both slowly moved further into the room, the Doctor going to the window to look outside and Y/n moving around to inspect the make of the room and attempt to take a peak outside the door into the hallway.

Attempt was the word, because before he could actually do it, Reinette awoke with a gasp, sitting up in bed with wide eyes. The Doctor rushed to calm her. "It's okay! Don't scream. It's me. It's fireplace man." Y/n shot him a look, but it seemed to work. Did this child have no survival instincts at all? Two grown, strange men creeping around her bedroom at night while she slept and she's calm the second she sees the Doctor?

Well, actually, that made sense. There was a sense that one could always trust the Doctor. The same went for Y/n, but for different reasons. The Doctor was the kind of person you hid behind and trusted to run out into battle and protect you. Even if he wasn't by your side, you knew you were safe. Y/n was the kind of person who never left your side. He held your hand and comforted you and gave the sense that he would take a bullet for you while holding you in his arms, his back to the danger and you completely safe from it. Together they were quite calming. The Doctor knew what he was doing, and nothing could stop him from figuring it out and destroying it. Y/n knew less, but was far more ready to put himself in harm's way, and nothing would ever get to you as long as he was there to stand in danger's way.

The Doctor moved to the candle on Reinette's dresser, using his sonic screwdriver to light the candle and cast light in the room so the girl in bed could see him. Her eyes moved from him quickly though to Y/n. "And his friend," she told herself. It didn't seem to e something she meant to say aloud.

"Yes." the Doctor began to change, becoming softer and warmer. It was something he did only for children. It showed that huge, soft heart of his he tried to protect - even from Rose who couldn't always see through his guise because she didn't know what Y/n did. Children had always made him like this. More human. Less logical and curious and detached and more emotional. Closer. Y/n tried not to think about the time that had been most true, with his own children. How that had become so painful for him after they were gone, but how it had never gone away because he just couldn't help himself. The Doctor spoke again, knocking Y/n out of his thoughts. "We were talking, the three of us, just a moment ago. We were in your fireplace."

The girl shook her head. "Monsieur, that was weeks ago. That was months."

The Doctor looked at Y/n, who was just as surprised. Hadn't it been just seconds ago for them? "Really?" the brunette asked as he turned back to the child. He rose a hand to tug on his ear - a tell that he was caught off guard and uncomfortable. He really was a terrible liar. He turned away from her, going back to the mantle. He kneeled down, knocking on it. "Must be a loose connection. We need to get someone in here."

"Wait Doctor-" Y/n moved closer as well, a startling thought hitting him. "If time passes like that over here, do you think it's just that time is different on either side? I mean, its been seconds since we left Rose and Mickey for us but..."

Before they could brain map that out, or go back, Reinette spoke again. "Who are you and what are you doing here?"

The Doctor didn't answer though. He froze a second, and then his eyes slowly drifted back toward the mantle, away from the little girl, landing on the clock. Y/n wasn't sure what he was seeing, but he looked anyway, hoping it would click immediately. "Okay, that's scary," the Doctor muttered.

"You're scared of a broken clock?" Reinette asked with slight sass. Y/n was starting to like this kid.

Amusement didn't seem to be in the cards for the Doctor right now though. With all seriousness he responded, "Just a bit scared, yeah. Just a little tiny bit. Cause you see, if this clock's broken, and it's the only clock in the room..." He looked around to affirm and Y/n followed his gaze.

And that was when he heard it. He looked back at the clock on the mantle to be sure, and saw the hands were still, frozen in place. But if that was the case... "What's making that ticking noise?" It was half a question, and half a resolution as he realized what path the Doctor had gone down.

"Definitely not a clock," the Doctor provided like an answer, even though it was phrased as if continuing a sentence that Y/n had just supplied a part of. "You can tell by the resonance. Too big." He began walking away from the mantle and Y/n stayed close. Not to hide behind the Doctor as most people were happy to do, but because he was making sure the Doctor was okay - just as he always stayed close to keep people safe. "Six feet I'd say," the Doctor continued. "The size of a man."

"What is it?" Reinette asked, beginning to grow panicked.

The Doctor began to move to one side of the bed, nodding Y/n to go the other way. Only then did the men part. "Now let's think." the Doctor was all business now, taking control of a situation and figuring out the threat. It calmed Reinette as it did earlier, to see the two men to actually be who they seemed to be. Without the Doctor to watch, Y/n moved closer to Reinette, looking around the room, his body coiled to fight if necessary. "If you were a thing that ticked and you were hiding in someone's bedroom, first thing you do: break the clock. No one notices the sound of one clock ticking, but two?" He hesitated a while and Y/n felt a chill in his spine. "You might start to wonder if you were really alone. He began to kneel, looking under the bed, and Y/n moved to block the other side. The thing still might escape at the end, but the less places it had to go, the better. Y/n stayed on his feet, still ready to run or tackle something if he had to. "Stay in the middle of the bed," the Doctor instructed Reinette. "Hands and feet close by."

The Doctor looked under the bed. There was the soft whirring of the sonic screwdriver, and long silence that held far too much tension.

Suddenly, a hand shot out and the trio jumped, eyes going wide. Y/n watched the Doctor to make sure he was okay, still planted in place if the thing tried to run.

Unfortunately, the thing did run, but it moved incredibly fast. It was out from under the bed and standing next to Y/n within seconds, and all Y/n could do was stand there as the thing wrapped a hand around his throat. He went stiff, eyes wide. The Doctor moved slowly from being on the ground to raising from the floor at a snail's pace, eyes trained on the thing that was currently holding Y/n in a very compromising position.

"Reinette," the Doctor whispered softly, looking at the small girl who was facing him instead of the thing that had Y/n. "Don't look round." As she had been all night, the girl was obedient. "You." The Doctor's voice had changed as he directed the thing holding Y/n. "Stay exactly where you are. Unless of course you could be so kind as to let my partner there go." His words were polite, but his tone was dark. He was not asking. If anything, his words were a threat. The thing didn't move, either to let Y/n go or to hurt him, so the Doctor hesitated, looking at Reinette again. His face changed and he kneeled down again, but this time to grab Reinette's face with both of his hands. Y/n knew what he was doing, and he relaxed. As much as Reinette was fine with sitting there and listening to every word the Doctor told her, Y/n was the same. Both of them trusted the Doctor completely, and if he didn't think Y/n was in any real danger enough to address it, he wasn't.

"What is it?" Y/n asked softly, taking in the expression of the man now looking at Reinette like she had an arm attached to the side of her head.

"You've been scanning her brain." It was an answer, but mostly an accusation, and it was targeted at the clockwork man holding Y/n. "You've crossed two galaxies and thousands of years just to scan a child's brain? What could there be in a little girl's mind worth blowing a hole in the universe?" He let Reinette go, standing tall again.

"You've done it now," Y/n mumbled, finding himself grinning.

"I don't understand." Reinette hadn't spoken in a while, but in all that time she hadn't lost much worry, even if her fear was satiated. She was safe while the Doctor was here, but why did she need his protection at all? She turned now, looking at the clockwork thing. "You want me?"

The clockwork man looked at her - the first time it had shown any sign of thought since moving out from under the bed. In a robotic drawl, it answered. "Not yet. You are incomplete." Its hands tightened around Y/n's throat and his eyes fluttered closed as he took in his a labored breath to feed his brain air as much he could.

"Let him go!" Reinette screamed. Unlike when the Doctor had threatened the automaton immediately let go of Y/n, who dropped to his knees, gasping.

"Are you okay, Y/n?" the Doctor asked.

"I'm fine," Y/n rasped, not moving from his spot on the floor. "Keep that brain of yours working, that's what we need right now."

The Doctor hesitated, but obliged. His eyes moved to the automaton. "You said she was incomplete. What does that mean?" The thing didn't respond, and the Doctor got irritated. "You can answer her, you can answer me," he demanded. "What do you mean, incomplete?" He brought up his screwdriver and the thing responded, but not how it had been asked to. Instead, it moved around Y/n on the floor and to the other side of the bed, raising its own arm and extending a blade to press against the Doctor's throat just as threateningly.

"Monsieur be careful!" Reinette begged, worry in her eyes.

"It's just a nightmare, Reinette," the Doctor assured. "Don't worry about it."

Y/n forced himself to his feet. "Doctor," he croaked, afraid to move and startle the thing, but feeling his stress rise at seeing the Doctor in danger. Why couldn't the thing just stay focused on him? Y/n couldn't die. "What you said before, about how it can answer you if it answers her. I mean... she's supposed to be here, we aren't. What if it's not supposed to answer anyone but her?"

The Doctor's eyes widened. That could have been from the way the mechanic thing swung at him though. Y/n surged forward as the Doctor skidded back, the mechanic man following his path. The Doctor kept addressing Reinette, eyes flickering to her as if Y/n hadn't spoken. Y/n realized why when he looked back and noticed her at the edge of her bed, looking ready to cry. "Everyone has nightmares," he told her soothingly. "Even monsters from under the bed have nightmares." he leaned against the mantle, a smirk rising to his face. "Don't you, Monster?" He ducked as the metal weapon swung down at him, missing him and planting firmly in the wood of the mantle instead, sticking and leaving the clockwork machine helpless and unmoving. Y/n met the Doctor, immediately going to check that he was okay.

Reinette interrupted the scene. "What do monsters have nightmares about?" She asked. There was another question in her eyes as she looked between the Doctor and Y/n, but not one she could find words for, so she left it there instead.

The Doctor grinned at that question though, fueled by being able to answer. "Me," he told her as he leaned against the lever that turned the wall again and took the clockwork man, the Doctor, and Y/n all back back over to the ship side of this situation, leaving Reinette in her room alone.

To Y/n's relief, it seemed that neither Rose nor Mickey had moved since they'd been here last. "Doctor!" Rose exclaimed, going to run forward and greet him, but then stopping short when she saw the man clock. The Doctor raced to the side of the room, grabbing one of the guns. Y/n was far out of the way by the time the Timelord turned around, hosing the machine man down with some sort of mist. Y/n realized what had happened when the mist cleared and the clockwork man was silent and still, as if frozen.

"Excellent, ice gun." Mickey looked at the gun with intrigue.

Y/n smirked. "Fire extinguisher actually," he corrected. The Doctor winked, proud of Y/n. He then tossed the gun he was holding to Rose, who caught it and pulled it to her face to take a closer look.

"Where did that thing come from?" Rose asked as she looked at the gun.

"Here." The Doctor slipped his hands into his pockets, his brain racing as usual.

"Why is it dressed like that then?" Mickey seemed to disbelieve as usual.

"Well you can't go around somewhere you don't want to be noticed if you don't blend in," was what Y/n offered.

"Fieldtrip to France," the Doctor followed up. "Some kind of camouflage protocol." He began to walk toward the thing. "Nice needle work. Shame about the face." He pushed the mask off, knocking it to the floor to reveal the actual head of the thing underneath. What was there was a head-shaped clear, plastic shield that rested overtop clockwork, all made of gold. The Doctor's eyes widened and his jaw dropped, and Y/n gasped, moving closer rather quickly. "Oh, you are beautiful!" He took out his glasses to get a better look. "No really, you are. Look at that!" he looked at Y/n, his eyes full of admiration. Y/n's eyes were trained on the clockwork, but he felt the Doctor's gaze and nodded in silent awe. "Space age clockwork. I love it. I've got chills! Listen, seriously, I mean this from the heart - and by the way, count those - it would be a crime, it would be an act of vandalism, to disassemble you..."

Y/n snorted. "Since when has that ever stopped you?"

The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver. "Not even once," he admitted. "And it won't stop me now." There was a split second, as if the thing was realizing how dangerous the Doctor was, and then it split into lots of pieces and was sucked up and away. "Short range teleport, can't have gone far. Could still be on board," the Doctor explained as he turned away, back to the mantle. "

"What is it?" Rose demanded.

"Don't go looking for it!" was all the Doctor offered in response. Y/n knew it was because the Timelord had no idea, and he hated to admit that most of the time.

"Well where are you going?" Rose shot back.

"Can I come with you?" Y/n asked, realizing the Doctor was headed back to Reinette's room.

The Doctor shook his head. "I need you to keep an eye on these two. We both know how far what I tell them to do goes." Then he hit the lever and the wall turned and he was gone.

There was only a second before Rose was ready to go off and do exactly what she'd been told not to, just as the Doctor predicted. "He said not to go look for it," Mickey reminded.

Y/n turned around, his face stern, to see Rose grinning smugly. "Yeah, he did." She looked at Y/n, daring him to stop her.

He always did as the Doctor asked, as he did now, and she knew it. "Come on Rose, it's dangerous and we have no idea what we're up a-" He had been walking toward her to stop her, but when he got close enough she grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him down into a rather heated kiss. She leaned away too soon for Y/n to be satisfied, leaving him reeling instead.

"You were saying?" As she winked at Y/n, Mickey grabbed another one of the guns off of where the Doctor grabbed the first one, and returned to Rose. "Now you've got it," she complimented. Then she turned around and began trekking down the hall and Y/n was completely helpless to stop her.

"Wait!" He squeaked, trying to orient himself. But it was too late, and he groaned before jogging after them. Why was it always up to him to keep them in check? They never listened anyway!

Mickey went the fast way, zooming past all the important stuff as he tried to look cool with his rolls and tiptoeing. Rose followed after him, looking around corners at least and walking normally, keeping an eye out for danger. Y/n dragged at last, paying attention to everything he could without being slow enough for Rose to get out of his sight. At one point Mickey made some sound of alarm and the other two moved to him. "Look at this," he told them. "That's an eye in there. That's a real eye."

And, unfortunately, he was right. In some sort of camera, where the lense would be was what looked to be just a human eye. Something or the sort at least - it seemed to be close to human in structure. Y/n moved closer and the thing zipped away.

"That's not good," Y/n said softly. "Ships don't have eyes attached to things that should be mechanic - living parts and machinery don't mix."

Rose caught his attention again by opening a hatch lower down the wall and leaning down. Mickey leaned down with her, peering into the hole behind the hatch. "What is that? There in the middle, it looks like it's wired in." Y/n couldn't see cause there was no room to get a vantage point, so he stayed back.

Rose answered for him. "It's a heart, Mickey. It's a human heart." They leaned away, and Rose looked at Y/n. "You've never seen anything like this before? Or the Doctor?"

Y/n's expression was grim as he looked around the ship, feeling his stomach turn as he began to put something together he didn't like. "No. Like I said, organic matter and machinery have never combined well. The metal bits would get too hot eventually and..." he swallowed, turning away. "Never mind. If you two are set on wandering around, we shall continue with that." And without another word he surged forward, hands in pockets and refusing to answer.

Rose tried to pressure him but after a while of not a single word for him, the trip grew silent. Until Mickey spoke up again. "Maybe it wasn't a real heart." Safely out of sight, Y/n allowed himself to roll his eyes.

"Of course it was a real heart." That cake from Rose, and she sounded as irritated as Y/n felt.

Mickey didn't seem to like that. Neither did Y/n, but one didn't deal with things they liked by ignoring them or trying to push them away or deny their existence. You had to accept the bad things as reality in order to conquer them. "Is this normal for you guys? Is this an average day?"

"Not this specifically," Y/n answered softly.

"There aren't really average days for anything though," Rose added. "Not with the Doctor. You don't ever really adjust to this stuff."

Y/n reached what seemed to be a window into a room that looked like it came from Reinette's time. He leaned closer, trying to look in. Rose and Mickey caught up with him. "It's France again. We can see France." Y/n glared And tried not to aim it at Mickey. If the man made one more obvious statement Y/n might implode.

"I think we're looking in a mirror." Rose seemed to be handling this better than Y/n, though not by much.

Some people walked in and Y/n watched, trying to read their lips. That wasn't one of the things he knew though, even with the odd things he'd accidentally picked up from the Doctor - like sticking his hands in his pockets when he didn't know what to do with them. "Who's this guy?" Mickey scoffed as they watched.

"The king of France." Y/n was surprised to hear the Doctor's voice, but relieved too.

"Oh," Rose drawled teasingly. "Here's trouble. What have you been up to?"

"This and that," was all they got. "Became the imaginary friend of a future French aristocrat. Got in a fight with a clockwork man - Reinette asked where you were by the way, Y/n."

"Take me next time then," Y/n shot jokingly.

"Might as well, you obviously can't keep these two where they're supposed to be like I asked," the Doctor shot back.

"Since when has anything been able to stop Rose Tyler?" Y/n defended himself.

That made the Doctor smile. "Fair point." there was suddenly a neigh from a horse as the white animal turned the corner. "Did I mention I made friends with a horse?"

Once again Mickey came in with the worst question. "What's a horse doing on a spaceship?"

The Doctor came back with irritation that made Y/n feel pleased. "Mickey, what's pre-revolutionary France doing on a spaceship? Get a little perspective." Y/n snorted. "See these?" He pointed to the mirror, turning attention to that instead so Mickey has to room to reply back. "They're all over the spaceship, on every deck. Gateways to history." A woman walked in the room, and Y/n tilted his head. She seemed familiar somehow. "But not just any old history," the Doctor continued. "Hers."

That's when it clicked. "That's Reinette?" Y/n asked in surprise. The Doctor nodded. He had a soft look in his eyes that made Y/n raise his eyebrows. The brunette felt the other's man gaze and turned to look, only to look away again very quickly when Y/n smirked. He was about to tease when the Doctor continued, a little more awkward this time.

"A time window. Deliberately arranged along the life of one particular woman. A spaceship from the 51st century stalking a woman from the 18th." He shook his head. "Why?"

"Who is she?" Rose inquired.

"Jean-Antionette Poisson," the Doctor replied. Y/n rose his eyebrows. French Mamés were so fancy. "Known to her friends as Reinette. One of the most accomplished women who ever lived." So that's why he was so into her.

"So she's got plans to be the Queen then?" Rose asked next, watching the way Reinette smiled at the King.

"No he's already got a Queen," the Doctor told her. "She's got plans of being his mistress."

Y/n's eyes went wide. "I'm worry, are we talking about- oh my stupid human brain, we're talking about THE Madame de Pompadour?" Y/n hissed, his eyebrows coming together in surprise.

The Doctor grinned. "Only and only!"

Y/n snorted. "You're just a man after all," he teased. Rose and Mickey both realized the Doctor's infatuation then too, Rose scowling and Mickey snickering quietly to himself.

The Doctor however, decided to ignore his comment. "I think this is the night they met. The night of the Yew Tree Ball. In no time flat she'll get herself established as his official mistress with her own rooms at the palace, even her own title. Madame de Pompredour, as Y/n so kindly recalled earlier."

Reinette moved toward the mirror, fixing herself, but looking straight at the four people she didn't know were looking back. "Queen must have loved her," Rose snarked quietly. Y/n silently thought that she was rather beautiful - a notice that had probably been what had made Rose think of that in the first place. He noticed the way the blonde looked at Reinette, and then took a peek at the Doctor. Y/n internally sighed. This girl and her jealousy...

"Yeah, they were actually really good friends," the Doctor stated in response to what she'd said.

"The Kong's wife and the Kong's girlfriend?" Mickey scoffed. When he said girlfriend, he looked directly at Y/n, and Y/n felt his anger rise.

"France," the Doctor dismissed. "Different planet." Suddenly he froze, and Y/n looked back through the mirror to see Reinette turning around, facing a man that was looking away from her. The thing turned and-

At the same time the Doctor and Y/n both lurched forward, pushing the mirror so it turned as the wall had at the mantle before, surging into the room as one. At some point he must have grabbed one of the guns because he suddenly hosed the thing down with it, freezing it as he had the one from before. Except this one... was working against that frost.

"Fireplace man," Reinette shouted in surprise. She then saw Y/n and grinned. "And he's brought his friend this time." Y/n tipped his head in greeted and she gave a small courtsey in response.

"What's it doing?" Mickey asked, in reference to the whirring sound coming from the clockwork man.

"Working its gears, trying to heat the ice." The Doctor tossed the gun back to Rose, who it seemed he'd stolen it from in the first place.

"And what happens then?" Mickey continued.

"It kills everyone in the room," the Doctor answered with a frown. Just then the arm of the clockwork man shot forward, hand reaching to choke the Doctor as it had once tried to choke Y/n. The Doctor was expecting it though, and was faster to react, jetting out of the way before it could succeed. "Focuses The mind, doesn't it?" He stared at the machine with authority. "Who are you?" He demanded. "Identify yourself." The thing only tilted its head.

Y/n stepped forward. "Remember before, Doctor? In Reinette's room?"

The Timelord nodded. "Right." He looked at Reinette. "Order it to answer me."

That seemed to confuse her though. "Why should it answer to me?"

"I don't know," he offered honestly. "But it did when you were a child." He looped around, moving to stand behind her, leaning in to whisper into her ear. "Let's see if you've still got it." Y/n smirked to himself. What a damn flirt.

Reinette turned to the living machine. "Answer his question," she ordered. "Answer any and all questions put to you."

The machine lowered its arm. "I am repair droid seven."

"And what happened to the ship?" The Doctor asked. "That's a lot of damage."

Y/n sucked in a breath and for a second, all eyes except the driod's turned to him. He looked at the machine though as it answered, "Ion storm, 82% failure."

"What did you find out, Y/n?" The Doctor pressed. So Y/n stepped forward, hoping he was wrong.

"The ship hasn't moved in a long while, hasn't it?" Y/n asked softly. "It's taken you a while to fix it - why?"

"We did not have the parts," the machine answered.

"You didn't have the parts you needed to fix your ship?" Y/n's voice was beginning to taint with horror, and the others looked at him with pre confusion, unsure as to what he was getting at. "So you're stuck in the middle of nowhere, ship broken down, no way to move, without the parts you need, and you had to do something." Y/n shook his head. "Why here and now? Why Reinette? What are you looking for here?"

"We did not have the parts," was all the machine answered.

So Y/n changed his question. "What part are you looking for?"

"What?" The Doctor couldn't make sense of that question. "They couldn't be looking for any parts here - it wouldnt make any sense at all. What about the crew?"

Again, the machine answered, "We didn't have the parts."

Y/n sighed, closing his eyes. "We found a camera with an eye in it. A heart, wired into the ship." He opened his eyes again, looking at the Doctor. "They didn't have the parts, so they used what was available to them."

The Doctor's eyes widened. "They used the crew." The others gawked, except Y/n who had known since they'd seen everything before. "It's just doing what it was programmed to do. Using whatever it can, wherever it can find it. No one told them the crew wasn't on the menu. What did you say the flight deck smelled of?"

Rose was stunned, her eyes glossing over as she remembered what she'd said then, and how it must have connected in Y/n's mind later. "Someone cooking." Her answer came with detached horror.

"Like I said. Machinery and organic material- they don't mix." Y/n's eyes dropped to the ground.

"Flesh plus heat," the Doctor added on. "Barbecue." A heavy silence fell, but the Doctor had never been good with silences so he didn't let it settle. "But what are you doing- oh!" He looked at Y/n, then back to the machine. "You're here for a part."

"One more part is required," the machine responded in confirmation.

The Doctor's voice dropped. "Why haven't you taken it?"

"She is not complete," the machine responded. Y/n remembered that it said the same thing that night in Reinette's bedroom.

"What so that's the plan then?" The Doctor jerked back in half mocking disbelief. It was a ridiculous plan, to be fair. "Open up more and more time windows and scanning her brain, checking to see if she's done yet?"

Then Rose jumped in with a brilliant question. "Why her?" She asked. "You've got all of history to choose from- why specifically her?"

"I mean The Doctor said it didn't he?" He realized before the machine could respond. "The most successful woman in history. Brilliant, and incredibly accomplished. I mean, the Doctor could probably go on for years about all she's been able to do. Her mind - her brain, the part they need - it's... I mean sorry if this sounds bad, but it's brilliant. They had to choose someone. Why not her?"

The machine looked at Y/n. "We are the same," It agreed.

"The same?" Reinette spat. "We are not the same! We are in no such way the same!" She panicked, and before anyone could stop her she ordered the thing, "Get out of here this instant!" It disappeared and Y/n ran into the ship, looking around the corner. It was gone though. The Doctor yelled something and Rose and Mickey took off running.

Before Y/n could join then the Doctor called, "Y/n, stay with me!" So Y/n turned around and reentered the room with Reinette and the Doctor. He closed the mirror, realizing it was actually a window instead. He left the other two to do their thing as he turned to the wall, looking at the decorations with a close eye. He felt the need to soak it all in, and whatever the Doctor was doing he didn't actually need Y/n's help, otherwise he would have called him over.

He heard their flirting as the Doctor looked into Reinette's mind, and he rolled his eyes at their antics. That was... until Reinette said something that shocked both of the men in the room. "Oh Doctor, such a lonely childhood." Y/n turned. "So, so lonely. Lonely then, and even lonelier now."

"What are you talking about?" The Doctor asked. "You've never been lonely once in your life." Suddenly he jerked back. "Since when did you start calling me Doctor?"

She just looked back at him. "A door once opened can be stepped through in either direction." She stepped up to him. "Oh Doctor. My lonely Doctor." She was so beautiful, and she looked at him with so much love. She'd said he was lonely... only then did Y/n fully understand Rose's jealousy. Was he not enough? "Dance with me," she asked. Y/n turned and moved away, through the window and into the ship, walking back to the flight deck and to the mantle to cool off. He was suddenly angry, and all that ever did was cloud his mind. The Doctor needed him sharp - feelings couldn't get in the way. How could he ever blame anyone for falling in love with the Doctor? Hadn't he done it himself? His eyes found the mantle, and he drifted toward it, pulling the lever. He ended up in Reinette's room. Or... her old room he supposed. He heard footsteps, many footsteps, and ducked behind a curtain.

Unfortunately for him, it seemed to be a very bad time. The room was being emptied, and it seemed that the mantle was going now. Which meant... there was no way back. He peeked our, trying to think, and was immediately spotted. "Y/n." He looked over in surprise to see Reinette of all people. He slipped out, a stiff smile on his face.

"Hello, Reinette."

She seemed to sense his slight disdain. "I'm sorry for that night. I remember - that was the last time I saw you. I saw you two in his head, and I... well, I didn't realize until later when he was leaving. What it meant, and why you left. I'm very sorry." Y/n slipped his hands in his pockets. The other people in the room seemed to hesitate, but then left when the two seemed casual enough. Only one man stood outside the room in order to give them privacy of sort while also making sure Reinette stayed safe. "Have You two had time to talk? I don't know what happens on your dude of things."

Y/n shook his head. "Back there... there's kind of not much time. I mean, where I come from... well it's a bit complicated."

She looked at the mantle, then back. "Do you need to go soon?"

Y/n sighed. "You broke the connection, and I can't fix it from this side. The Doctor will be here soon I'm sure. Until then, if you want to ask, I'm more than happy to answer. I... I think I need some air. Just a bit maybe."

She smiled. "Wonderful."

Three years. Y/n did not age, as he had long since stopped doing, but Reinette did. The two became very good friends, and she kept him a secret from other people. They got attached to each other, but even if they hadn't it wouldn't have mattered. For some reason The exists that he knew weren't working. He couldn't figure out how to get back onto the ship. So he waited for the Doctor - the long route, just like everyone else. He had to say, he didn't mind it. Sticking by Reinette's side was kind of refreshing. When he drew a line she knew to withdraw, but otherwise they talked about everything - and they especially bonded over their deep feelings for the Doctor.

Over time, Y/n adjusted to life in France. It was odd, and he tried to stay away from people and out of any news or such as much as he could because it all confused him and he was worried about changing too much, but for the most part it was fine. He became Reinette's footman - a thing that had been a bit of scandal for a while, but nothing too big as it had been written off as her secret brother or cousin or something. It was too clear too soon that they weren't lovers, and that was what mattered.

Even Y/n and the King got along. It was the day that the King had asked for his company riding horses that Y/n returned to a frantic Reinette. "Those friends of yours just turned up and said in five years they're returning. The clockwork men. I..." She slouched in disappointment. "You weren't here. I tried the entrance again after they left, but it was suddenly locked like all the others. I- I'm so sorry Y/n, I forgot to tell them about you. There was so much going on-"

"No worries my lady," Y/n dismissed. "This way I'll be right by your side when those things come. It's the best place to be really." He smiled and after a second, so did she.

And so five more years passed.

It had been eight years without the Doctor, and Y/n had matured a lot. He'd been allowed his own room to breathe. Oddly enough, his memories of the TARDIS never faded and he found himself missing the Doctor and Rose and even Mickey. He had found this sort of life nice and refreshing at first, but it was boring now. He had a lot more skills - horse riding and sword fighting and cooking and baking. He had even picked up carving, and had seen lots of history up close and personal. But it wasn't with the two people he loved the most.

There was something that kept him from going back though. A question that stuck stubbornly in the back of his mind.

Did they miss him at all?

Perhaps that wasn't fair. It had been eight years for him, but probably not even an hour for them. A horrible thought occurred to him at one point. They might not have even noticed he was gone yet at all.

That thought was what made him hesitate.

The day came that the clockwork men returned, and Reinette rushed to her mantle to call for the Doctor. When she stood, she turned to Y/n. "What do I do?"

Y/n pressed his lips together. "As the Doctor asked. He will come Reinette, I swear to you. He doesn't break his word. That's not the kind of man he is. He will save you."

She looked at him, noticing easily his wording as they knew each other too well not to notice such vital things. "Will he not rescue you as well? Take you back and await from here?"

Putting his hands in his pockets - a habit he still had, even after all these years - Y/n looked away from her. "May I ask you something? A favor? Something very important to me?"

"Of course," Reinette agreed earnestly.

"When he comes," Y/n began. "Do not tell him of me. Not unless he asks." Reinette was going to argue, but then seemed to see the importance of the second bit and hesitated only a second before nodding. That was when the mechanical men came for her. They took her, and forced Y/n to stay, holding him at needle point in a threat. Reinette assured him that she'd be okay, because the Doctor would come. So Y/b stayed in the room and listened to the door lock, letting him know he was all alone with no way out until this whole thing was over.

So he sat. And he waited.

Until the door opened again, and he ducked for cover just in case. It was not the clockwork men... it was however, the Doctor, who he was just as eager to hide from.

"It's not a replica," Reinette was saying. "It's the exact same one. I had it moved here, and was stern about it being kept in exact detail." She left out the fact that Y/n had suggested it, which made him realize the Doctor had yet to ask about him.

"The fireplace," the Doctor cooed, smiling at the memories the thing brought up. "When did you do this?"

"Many years ago," Reinette answered. "In a hope that a door once opened may be opened again." Y/n pressed into the wall, wishing he could leave. He didn't want to be here for this. "One never quite knows when one needs ones Doctor. Or his friend."

"I'm sorry that Y/n didn't come with me." Y/n tended against the wall. "He was on the other side when I jumped through. Good thing though - he'll be able to get the other two home. So there's that." Wait what?

Reinette hummed in thought. "They are trapped there without at least one of your there?"

The Doctor paused. "Well, yes..."

Without leaving him room to answer, Reinette pressed on. "The mantle appears undamaged. Do you think it'll still work?"

"You broke the bond with the ship when you moved it," the Doctor told her. "Which means it was off line when the mirror broke- probably what saved it. But..." he suddenly moved to the mantle, taking out his screwdriver. It was a sight for sore eyes, and Y/n couldn't handle it. He slipped away, out of the room and away from the Doctor and the mantle and the woman who had become his best friend.

Reinette joined him after a while. "He's gone again, our Doctor." She sighed. "He said he would back in just a moment but..."

"That's The thing with time windows," Y/n sighed. "Time is a fickle thing. Passes different only one side than the other. Seconds to him..."

"Years to us." Reinette nodded. She hesitated a while then turned to Y/n. "Why did you hide? He didn't ask for you because he thinks you're on the ship."

Y/n watched the stars outside, thinking about a life where he'd never see them again. It was a terrible thought. "At first it was jealousy and insecurity. A stupid thing I suppose, but it was meaningful then. The way he loves even people he's just met. The way he loves, but still feels lonely because he refuses himself any joy, even to allow others to love him. It scared me. That say you said he was lonely... you know he shouldn't have been though. He had me, and Rose."

"She won't be around forever," Reinette pointed out.

"But I will." Y/n's voice was raw. "But that wasn't even really the point... I don't know, I just thought- I thought love was a hard thing, so I avoided it for years. It came slow to me - far slower than most people. As much slow to me as it comes fast to the Doctor. I've loved two people my entire life, and now I'm staring eternity in the face with only the possibility of a happy ending with one. And... he's so strange. He's not human, and he's consumed by this loneliness that makes him so hard on the inside. So far away. No matter how far I reach, he is always out of my grasp. I can know, but I do not understand. It puts things between us. I mean- we'd never do well in this life. This slow life. He rarely ever kisses me, and sometimes he ignores me altogether, because he values knowledge above all else and is terrified of love, as much as I used to be." He looked at Reinette again. "What if I'm not meant to be with them? People question my never waning age here, but otherwise I do very well. He would do well without me, just fine. But I will suffer without him. It makes me feel pathetic."

Reinette was quiet a long time. "It is hard for a human to love an angel. I can't imagine playing at having that love returned, never quite sure of how real it is or much it will stick or how long it will last. Playing at a dream, hoping to delay the time until you wake up."

Y/n sighed. "He'll be back one day. Perhaps I will know the answer then."

So they waited, both of them. They waited so long. So many years for such a long time that Reinette died before the Doctor came back. When he did, Y/n stood outside in a suit in the rain, watching the carriage go with her body inside, heading off to be buried. Y/n watched, and he decided that after all these years this was the moment that proved to him all the pain and insecurity and hesitation and not being quite sure was all worth it. The danger didn't matter. Neither did the slight loneliness. Because when one loves an angel, and that glorious being dared attempt to return such affection, even a little bit was worth it. It would be the best love Y/n ever experienced, and that would be enough.

When Y/n came inside, the Doctor was waiting for him. "You've been here all this time?" Y/n nodded. "How long?"

Y/n slipped his hands in his pockets. "I had been here eight years when her 37th birthday. Now she's a little over 40 so... somewhere between ten and twenty years?"

The Doctor hesitated. "Do you prefer it here?"

Y/n looked around. "No." He looked back. "I did have a long time to think though. I... I know a lot about you, Doctor. And you far less so about me. I know that we rushed things, You me and Rose. I understand if you need to take a step back. I don't want you to feel like we have to do anything, or be anything. I-" he sighed. "I don't want you to feel lonely with me around. I just want to be what you wish for, so that you may not feel lonely anymore. Loneliness - it's a terrible feeling."

After a second, the Doctor smiled. "I haven't seen you in so many hours, and for you it's been a decade and a half - give or take. And after all this time, what you've come to realize about your life is that you like this life of ours? Danger and confusion and guessing and all? Me, and my nonsensical ways? You'd chose that over this, and to have it you'd be anything I asked you, even if it meant sacrificing your own feelings?"

"I suppose that's what love is," Y/n shrugged. "Willing to help you be happy, even if it's not with me."

That made the Doctor shake his head, even as he continued giving a small smile. "She told me you were jealous of her. How you were I have no idea. I'd rather have you and Rose at my side any day. Though..." his smile wavered. "I do wish I'd been able to show her just one star up close."

Y/n nodded. "I wish you'd been able to as well."

The Doctor approached Y/n, taking his hand. "So. Back to the TARDIS then?" Y/n nodded. "You can only come if you come as my lover though." He said in with an airy voice, sounding a little like how Reinette used to refer to the King.

It made Y/n chuckle, softly. The fact he could find amusement on such a sorrowful day was quite wonderful. It's what Reinette would have wanted. "Of course, Doctor. I'd have it no other way." So they did go back, and for now, that was the end of it.

Story Tags: @shoochi @e-reads-fics

Male reader tags: @sheepfather

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