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massivedrickhead · 1 year ago

Note

If you’re still accepting prompts could you do number 2? Maybe one of them is sick and needs looking after? 🥹👉👈

Someone asked for a part 2 of the prompt I posted yesterday, and this felt like the perfect prompt to use

Hope you enjoy!

2. “Do you need me to get you anything?”

Prompt taken from here.

Read on AO3

“Do you need me to get you anything?”

Chloe glanced at Aubrey, who had been sitting beside her in silence for the better part of three hours, but she didn’t speak. Her mind was somewhere else.

“Baby, can I get you anything?” Chloe asked, crouching on the bathroom floor, her hand rubbing up and down Beca’s back.

“N-no,” Beca replied, before throwing up again. Beca’s cheeks were streaked with tears and her whole body shook as she continued to heave, though there was nothing left in her stomach to come up.

“Not even some water?”

“It won’t stay down.”

“Chloe?”

“No,” Chloe said. “I’m fine.”

Aubrey sighed but didn’t say anything else. Chloe hadn’t eaten or drunk anything, or even moved since Beca had been taken into surgery that morning. She knew pointing it out wouldn’t help though. She knew nothing short of an earthquake would move Chloe from this spot.

“She’s going to be okay,” Aubrey said.

“Yeah,” Chloe said. “I know.” She has to be, Chloe thought. She has to be okay.

The surgery was all part of Beca’s treatment plan, but it was the part that caused Chloe the most anxiety.

The fear that something could go wrong while they were in there, or that they’d discover that things were much worse than they’d thought, had been plaguing Chloe for weeks.

While Beca had spent the last few weeks suffering from exhaustion, headaches, vomiting, and little to no appetite, Chloe had been driving herself crazy with endless late nights Googling every possible scenario.

She spent her days alternating between working and taking care of Beca, and her nights glued to her phone, trying to prepare herself for what might come next.

Aubrey had temporarily moved in to help with Beca while Chloe was working. She’d dropped her hours to part-time, but she couldn’t stop altogether because they needed the money now more than ever.

The doctor hadn’t been kidding when he’d said that Beca’s full-time job needed to be taking care of herself.

Beca had managed to stay at work for a few more weeks, but one day she’d tried to get out of bed and found she couldn’t, and things got worse from there.

“Bec, are you okay?” Chloe asked, surprised to find Beca still in bed long after her alarm had gone off. She put a hand on Beca’s forehead and frowned when it felt clammy and cold. “You don’t look too good.”

“I can’t… I don’t think I can go in today,” Beca said, closing her eyes against the harsh morning light, hoping it would be enough to drive away the pounding in her head.

“I’ll call Theo and let him know,” Chloe said. She kissed Beca on the forehead and drew the curtains in their bedroom, plunging the room back into darkness. “Can I get you anything?”

“Water?” Beca asked. She sounded so tired she didn’t even sound like herself anymore.

“Of course,” Chloe replied. “I’ll get you an ice pack for your head too.”

“Tell Theo I’ll be back tomorrow,” Beca said, as Chloe headed for the door. “I just need a day.”

Chloe paused, her hand resting on the doorknob.

“Let’s see how you feel tomorrow.”

“She should be out by now,” Chloe said after another hour had passed in silence. She was chewing on her lip, her eyes glued to the clock on the wall. “They said four hours.”

Aubrey looked up from her phone and glanced at the same clock.

“They said four to five,” Aubrey said. “I’m sure everything’s fine.”

Chloe wanted to snap. She felt like she was itching for a fight. Desperate for something to distract herself from the pit of nerves in her stomach.

But before she could speak, a doctor approached them, and Chloe felt like she’d started free-falling.

They both stood, and Aubrey’s hand found hers and squeezed, but Chloe didn’t feel it.

“I, um, I have some money set aside,” Beca said, the night before her surgery. She had her head on Chloe’s chest, and Chloe was playing with her hair.

“What are you talking about?” Chloe asked.

“It’s for, like, funeral expenses,” Beca said. She felt Chloe tense beneath her, but she carried on talking. “I know you don’t want to talk about this, but we have to.”

“No we don’t,” Chloe said, her throat so tight she was surprised the words made it out. “You aren’t going to die.”

“I might-”

“No.”

“Chloe,” Beca said, her voice stronger than it had been. Chloe had almost forgotten what it used to sound like when it wasn’t strained and tired. She couldn’t remember the last time it didn’t sound like every word took a monumental effort for Beca to get out. “I might die tomorrow. I know my odds are good, but it’s a possibility.” She sat up so she could look at Chloe, and her chest got tight at the sight of tears flowing down her face.

This is what she’d wanted to avoid. This was why she’d tried so hard to keep Chloe away.

“I set aside some money,” Beca said, needing Chloe to hear what she had to say. “It’ll be left for you in my will, and it’s to cover the funeral, or whatever you need it for. I don’t want you to have to worry about that on top of everything else if… If I don’t make it.”

Chloe sniffed and sat up too, wiping the fallen tears from her cheeks.

“Okay,” she said. “But you aren’t allowed to die.”

Beca smirked, and for the first time in a long time, Chloe saw the Beca she’d fallen in love with all those years ago. “I don’t plan on doing it yet.”

The doctor was speaking to them, but Chloe couldn’t make out what they were saying.

She could see their mouth moving, but none of the words made it to her ears.

“Okay, we’re ready to get Beca prepped now.”

Chloe opened her mouth but Beca shook her head. “No goodbyes,” she said. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Chloe swallowed. “Okay,” she said. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Beca replied.

Chloe bent down to kiss her girlfriend and prayed it wouldn’t be for the last time.

They broke apart, and Chloe studied her face. The shape of her nose, the colour of her eyes, the line of her jaw.

Beca took hold of her hand and squeezed. She could see fear in Chloe’s eyes, but she hoped Chloe couldn’t see it in hers.

Beca nodded, and let go of her hand.

There was nothing either of them needed to say now.

There was a whooshing sound in Chloe’s ears. Aubrey had tears in her eyes, and Chloe felt her chest get impossibly tighter.

“Chloe?”

“Don’t,” Chloe said. “Please don’t say it.”

“Chloe, she’s okay,” Aubrey said, confused at why there’d been no expression of relief on Chloe’s face. Confused at why Chloe had gone so pale, or why her grip on her hand was now so tight it threatened to break Aubrey’s fingers. “Chloe,” Aubrey repeated, her voice stern and much louder, and Chloe seemed to finally register it. “She’s okay.”

Chloe turned to the doctor and waited for it to come from them.

“Beca’s doing well,” the doctor said. “Everything went to plan and she’s been taken down to the ICU to recover. Are you okay?”

“I… yes, I’m fine,” Chloe said, suddenly feeling lightheaded with the relief. She dropped back into the seat and let her head fall into her hands. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what just happened.”

“The past six months catching up to you is what just happened,” Aubrey said, sitting beside her and rubbing a hand up and down her back.

Chloe shook her head. “I’m just tired,” she said.

“No, you’ve been prioritising someone else’s health, and now that they’re finally out of immediate danger, your body is letting you know that it’s your turn now,” the doctor said. “Beca’s going to be in hospital for the rest of the week, I strongly recommend that you use this time to take care of yourself.”

“But-”

“Visiting hours in the ICU are between 2 pm and 4 pm, and 7 pm and 9 pm every day. You can spend those hours at the hospital if you would like, but the rest of the time you need to spend taking care of yourself. Beca’s still going to need you when she gets home from the hospital, and you won’t be much use if you’re in this state.”

Chloe finally seemed to hear what the doctor was saying, and she looked up at her. “She’s really okay?”

“I promise, everything went exactly as we’d hoped. She did great in there. Once she’s recovered from the surgery she’ll continue her treatments as planned, and we’re very confident that she can make a full recovery.”

It felt like a damn had broken inside her, and Chloe started crying tears of pure relief. “Thank you,” she sobbed. “Thank you so much.”

“She isn’t awake yet,” the doctor said, “but you can go and sit with her if you like?”

“Please,” Chloe said, hastily wiping her eyes.

The doctor led them to Beca’s room, and it took everything in Chloe’s power not to immediately dissolve into tears again.

She took a seat at Beca’s bedside and gently took hold of her hand. She got a strong feeling of Deja Vu, though she knew it wasn’t. This wasn’t the first time she’d sat at Beca’s bedside but she hoped it would be one of the last.

Beca was full of tubes and wires, but underneath all of that, she looked peaceful. Her heart rate was steady and rhythmic, and her chest rose and fell with each breath she took.

The room was dimly lit and quiet, and Chloe felt calm for the first time in a long time.

When Beca finally woke up, she saw Chloe sleeping in the chair beside her, and she couldn’t help but smile.

She was sore, tired, and still felt loopy from the morphine, but she was relieved to see Chloe beside her.

She couldn’t imagine having to do this alone. She couldn’t imagine how she’d have survived the last six months alone.

She was so grateful that Chloe was still there beside her, and even more grateful still that Chloe had fought to get back in her life.

“She’s been a real pain in the ass,” Aubrey said from her other side, causing a grunt of laughter from Beca.

“Knew she would be,” Beca mumbled, turning her head to look at her. “Thanks for staying with her. And thank you for, you know, everything.”

“Of course,” Aubrey said. “We’re in a sisterhood for life, remember? You’re just lucky I managed to convince the other Bellas that a reunion at your bedside wasn’t the best idea.”

Beca grunted again and grinned. “Good idea. Don’t think my stitches could handle a group hug.”

Her eyes were already itching to close again, but the soft sounds of their conversation had woken Chloe up.

“You’re awake,” Chloe said, the words leaving her like a sigh of relief.

“For now,” Beca replied. “Not sure how much longer though.”

“How do you feel?”

“Sore,” Beca said. “Tired.” She closed her eyes as Chloe brushed a hand through her hair. “Did it work?”

“It did,” Chloe said. “A complete success. They said you did great in there.”

Beca smiled but didn’t seem to have the energy to open her eyes. “I had the easy job,” she said.

“Can I get you anything?” Chloe asked. “Is there anything you need?” Chloe didn’t know if Beca was even awake to answer, but she felt like she had to ask just in case.

“No,” Beca mumbled, sleep pulling at her again. “Just you.”

#bechloe #pitch perfect fanfiction #fanfic #pitch perfect fanfic #fanfiction #beca mitchell #chloe beale #pitch perfect #beca #chloe #bechloe prompt #prompt #bechloe fic #bechloe fanfic #no matter the timeline #pitch perfect fic

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woman-of-balnain · 2 years ago

Text

You Don't Form in the Wet Sand (I Do) - Part 1/2 (Alpha Rick x Omega Reader)

Masterlist | AO3 Ver. | Next Part

Pairing: Rick Grimes/Fem!Reader

Request: An omega reader who is able to handle and defend herself and how Rick would deal with that considering he just wants to protect her.

A/N:

So, this all takes place during the early period of the ‘farmer Rick’ era (between s3 and s4). I have it so that Hershel wants to get the infirmary stocked up with everything he needs to get it properly up and running (Dr S isn’t part of the community yet).

The hospital in this story isn’t the one that Dawn runs.

I’m going to write chapter 2 right after posting this, so it’ll be up soon and is just 100% smut of their first shared rut/heat.

TW: Strangulation of the Reader in an attempt to kill her (by an enemy, NOT Rick). The way it’s described might make it seem like it’s going on for longer than it is, but I intended it to be fairly minor, with no permanent or serious damage. Idk if that comes across clearly though, sorry. I also don’t know how realistic it is, because I am not a doctor, but a complete idiot…

Warnings: See the TW above, a/b/o dynamic (some non-traditional), established relationship, dominant Rick, protective Rick, killing both walkers and other people, independent omega Reader, female Reader.

Word Count: 4,576

Dividers by: @newlips + @cafekitsune

You loved the moments when Rick didn’t realize you were looking at him. He was so cocky whenever he caught you, that you savored the times when he was completely unaware, and you could just take him in with open and unrestrained appreciation. He was tending to the crops in the prison yard alone, like he always did these days, and you realized that you missed the way he was before he’d decided to basically retire.

There had been times where he’d get too protective of you, whenever the group was in a dangerous situation, but you knew it was just his instincts as an alpha coming through. Luckily, you could handle your own, so he really didn’t have any reason to worry. That never stopped him though, and even now he hated when you went out on a supply run without him.

“Hey cowboy,” you greeted Rick, walking up to him.

He stopped what he was doing and turned to look at you, a grin curling up on his lips at the familiar nickname you always used.

“You ever gonna stop callin’ me that?” He asked, letting out a light laugh.

“Nope,” you replied playfully with a small smile of your own. “You’re just asking for it.”

You loved his southern drawl, the slight lilt his tone had with certain words. You would never admit it to him, of course, and teased him about it constantly instead. Sometimes you would mimic him, emphasizing certain syllables, like how he tended to say ‘anythang’ and he would just roll his eyes or kiss you in that way of his where he reminded you just how much you loved it.

Because, in reality his accent drove you wild and you found everything about him to be incredibly sexy. You’d never outright admitted it, but he never missed an opportunity to let you know that he was perfectly aware of it all the same.

Rick shook his head with amusement, bringing you back to the present moment.

“What’re you doing out here anyway?” He asked.

“I wanted to talk to you about something. Hershel asked if I could go on a run to get some medical supplies he needs.”

“Who’re you going with?”

“I’m not sure yet, but I just wanted to let you know in case I’m not back for a while.”

Rick frowned and you just knew that his protective instincts were kicking in.

“Baby, can’t it wait ‘til tomorrow?” He asked.

“Why?”

“I’ll go with you,” he said it so simply, like it was something he still did all the time.

“I thought you weren’t doing stuff like that anymore…”

“It’s just a supply run,” he pointed out. “And I could use a day off.”

“Okay,” you agreed. “We can head out in the morning.”

He nodded and you turned to head back up to the prison, but he stopped you. Rick wrapped his arms around your waist from behind and bent his head to give your cheek an affectionate kiss.

“Omega…” he murmured against your skin. “You’re just gonna walk off without saying goodbye?”

You melted a little from how sweet he could be at times, and the way his fingers traced light patters through the material of your shirt was undeniably tantalizing.

“Don’t you have work to do, cowboy?” You asked him playfully. “I don't want to distract you.”

“Just you being here is a distraction,” he retorted, moving his mouth down to the curve of your neck.

You pulled away slightly until you could turn to face him again. You faltered a little, seeing the look he was giving you. Rick’s gaze had become heated, and it wasn’t the first time that the intensity in his eyes had thrown you off. You hadn’t been together for very long, but he always seemed to look at you with such open desire and admiration.

Unlike you, Rick had no problems with being open about his feelings. But he was an alpha and they were supposed to be confident and strong. You, on the other hand, had never really been a typical omega. You were too independent, too headstrong, too capable of defending yourself, too much of what an omega wasn’t.

Most alphas you’d encountered in your life either found that to be a turnoff or took it as their chance to ‘fix’ you. Because of that, you’d never actually been with an alpha before Rick, always dating betas instead. While he worried and got protective over you, he was never overbearing or domineering, and it all stemmed from the genuine care he held for you.

Yet, despite all of that, the idea of being vulnerable around him still filled you with trepidation. You kept that side of you hidden, because you didn’t want to be underestimated even more than you usually were by people who didn’t know you well enough. But deep down, you liked Rick’s protectiveness and you wanted to show your more sensitive side. You just weren’t sure how to yet.

Pushing those thoughts aside, you brought your focus back to Rick and the present moment. Letting your fingers curl around the collar of his shirt, you pulled him closer and gave him exactly what he wanted by bringing his lips to yours. His hold on you tightened and he started to deepen the kiss, but you pulled away again.

“You should get back to work, cowboy,” you told him playfully, masking the inner conflict you felt.

Yet, Rick frowned, likely picking up on it through your scent anyway.

“Okay,” he said softly, apparently letting it go for now. “I’ll come find you later.”

You gave him another quick kiss before turning around again and heading back towards the infirmary, intending to tell Hershel that you wouldn’t be going out until the next day.

The town you had picked out wasn’t exactly close to the prison, so Rick was glad that you’d both decided to head out early in the morning. Still, he couldn’t help but to feel on edge due to the fact that your destination was the local hospital. Sure, it would hopefully have everything Hershel would need, but it would also be crawling with walkers.

He had just wanted some time alone with you, away from everyone else, but now Rick was mentally kicking himself for not organizing a bigger group for the task. He knew you could handle yourself, but that didn’t stop his inner alpha from getting the urge to protect you and make sure you didn’t run into any danger. On a trip like this though, danger was inevitable.

“Hey, let’s check out that pharmacy first,” you pointed to a building further down the street. “It might have some of the stuff we need.”

Before Rick could even begin to respond, you were already jogging towards it.

“Y/N!” He called out after you, wishing you were a little more cautious about these things.

“Keep up, cowboy!” You teased him, never once slowing down.

Rick sighed when you disappeared into the building and ran to catch up. His heart skipped a beat when he saw that there were a few walkers in there with you. But as he took care of the one closest to him, you pushed one of the others away before plunging your knife into the third one’s head. After that was taken care of, you bent down to kill the second one, which had fallen over after you shoved it away from you.

Rick wanted to admonish you for not being more careful and just running in there recklessly, but ultimately, you’d had it handled. Just like you always did… You straightened back up after pulling your knife back out of the walker’s skull and wiping it clean on its tattered clothes. Then you turned to face Rick, evidently catching the annoyed look on his face as you did.

“What?” You asked.

“Nothing,” he groused, knowing it was useless to say anything.

“Okay, grumbles,” you teased him with a smile before taking in the empty shelves of the pharmacy. “Damn, this place has been wiped clean.”

Your observation was stating the obvious, as there was quite literally nothing left.

“C’mon,” Rick gestured back to the street with his head. “We shouldn’t waste any more time.”

“Do you think the hospital is still worth checking out?” You asked as you both left the store again. “It could’ve been looted by now too.”

“Maybe,” Rick agreed. “But we should at least go and see.”

He didn’t like it, because he knew it would be worse than the pharmacy and likely completely overrun by walkers. But he also knew that the trip would be a waste if you both didn’t at least find out. So, you both continued on towards the hospital, with Rick trying to ignore his growing uneasiness.

Something was off with Rick; you’d picked it up in his scent all day and it just seemed to get worse as the hours passed you by. It was usually comforting and gave off a calm sense of confidence, but now there was an edge to it like something was bothering him at an instinctual level. The weirdest part was how it wasn’t even unpleasant – just notably different.

You tried to ignore it as you looked through your binoculars and observed the outside of the hospital from a safe distance. But his scent wrapped around you more than usual, almost like it was trying to coax some kind of reaction out of you.

“Think these are the guys who cleared out the pharmacy?” You asked Rick, scanning the front of the building.

There were two men with machine guns standing outside and talking together. You both knew there must be more of them inside, and walkers were no longer the issue you would have to deal with.

“Yeah,” Rick muttered from beside you, his scent suddenly becoming more prominent.

“Are you okay?” You questioned, turning your head to look at him. “Your scent is… I don’t know, but it’s stronger than usual.”

“I’m fine,” he frowned in response. “Let’s just work out what we’re gonna do and get out of here.”

“Okay,” you relented, deciding to drop it for now. “So, do we take them on? They don’t exactly look friendly; I doubt they’re willing to share whatever they’ve got stashed away in there.”

“We should just leave it,” Rick suggested. “We don’t have a reason to attack them. We can find the supplies somewhere else.”

You almost agreed with him, but it also seemed like these guys were just hoarding stuff because they could, while there were children and older people at the prison who likely needed it more. You weren’t ready to give up on the trip just yet, especially when you knew there had to be some good stuff inside. Maybe even more than you’d been expecting to find when you set out earlier that morning.

“Okay, you’re not gonna like this –” you started to say.

“Y/N…” Rick’s tone was full of warning as he cut you off.

“Just hear me out,” you argued. “No one’s guarding that side entrance over there, see? I can sneak in and see if I can find anything and get a feel for the place. But you need to stay here.”

“No way,” he denied you without hesitating.

“Your scent will give us away, Rick,” you pointed out. “Anyone could smell you from a mile off right now. It’s a wonder those two haven’t already.”

“You’re an omega. They’ll pick up on that too.”

“I’ll be fine,” you tried to placate him and handed over the binoculars. “Just stay here. I won’t be long.”

You were already moving away from him before Rick could retort – yet again. He groaned in frustration, briefly wondering if his scent really was that strong or if it had just been an excuse to make him stay behind. But Rick knew you would have acknowledged the fact that you’d work better together, so he begrudgingly accepted that you’d asked him to stay there for a good reason.

He looked through the binoculars, tension swirling through him as he watched you approach the unguarded entrance. You were keeping low to the ground, making sure you wouldn’t be spotted, and Rick was at least grateful that you weren’t approaching the building recklessly like you had at the pharmacy. But his relief was short lived, as you then disappeared inside, and he was left to wonder what was going on within those walls.

He became more agitated and restless as time seemed to drag on at a torturously slow pace. He was itching to just go in and make sure you were okay, but the knowledge that they might pick up on his scent and that alerting them would put you in danger was the only thing holding him back. Yet, when he heard a gunshot ring out and the two men guarding the door reacted by rushing inside, Rick’s instincts took over.

He sprinted over to the entrance, drawing his Python from his holster as he did. He was so on edge that he could hear the pounding beat of his heart drumming away in his ears. Rick pushed his back against the wall to the side of the entrance and peered inside cautiously, forcing himself to be tactical rather than just barge in like he wanted to.

He saw that the two guards were walking slowly down the hall, clearly trepidatious since they also weren’t sure what they were getting themselves into as they went to investigate the signs of a disturbance that had rung out. One of them called out a name, likely checking to see if everything inside was okay. Rick waited tensely, also wanting to see if he needed to make a move or not. Maybe you were okay, and it had just been a coincidence or the result of some trigger-happy idiot.

But then another couple of gunshots rang out and Rick’s frustration reached its boiling point. He was done guessing. He pushed his body away from the wall and turned towards the entrance, letting two of his own shots ring out, hitting both men in the backs of their heads and watching their bodies slump down onto the floor.

He didn’t care in that moment, pushing aside the fact that he’d been trying to put all the killing behind him. Because Rick had picked up on your scent after that third gunshot and it was filled with distress. He had never sensed that in you, which just made him more anxious. There had been fear and worry in the past, when things had gone wrong, but never the raw panic that was there now.

So, Rick didn’t hesitate and headed further into the building, seeking you out and hoping that he wasn’t too late.

Things had been quiet when you first entered the hospital and it set your mind at ease, because you felt like you were correct in your suspicion that there weren’t many of them. You snuck through the halls, peering into rooms and keeping an ear out in case anyone was nearby. It disappointed you to find everything looking fairly empty, with everything useful seeming to have been ransacked.

“Do you smell that?”

You froze, sensing that the voice had come from just around the corner.

“No… what?” Another one replied.

“’Course you don’t, you’re a beta,” the first voice muttered with slight annoyance. “There’s an omega’s scent. Someone’s here.”

You panicked slightly, realizing your plan to sneak in and out unnoticed had definitely failed. There was some slight hesitation within you, as you debated between unholstering either your knife or your gun, but there were two of them, so you decided on the latter.

As you tightened your grip around the handle and raised it up in front of you, the two men finally turned the corner and paused, leaving the three of you in a standoff. The alpha had raised his gun instinctively as soon as he saw you, while the beta, who stood a little behind him, was slower to react.

“You lost or something, omega?” The alpha asked you gruffly.

“I need supplies,” you replied coldly. “I’m betting you have enough to go around.”

“Like hell we do. All the shit here’s ours, we ain’t sharin’.”

He looked you up and down then, eyeing you in a way that made your blood boil.

“Maybe we’ll take you too,” he suggested. “Ain’t many omegas around anymore.”

He took a step closer, and you cocked back the hammer of your revolver, getting ready to shoot.

“Don’t move,” you warned him.

“What’re you gonna do?” The alpha patronized you. “You ever even fired that thing?”

“Take another step and find out,” you seethed.

“Sugar, this ain’t a game,” he moved forward again. “Now, drop th–”

You pulled the trigger, getting him right between the eyes. You barely processed his body going limp before you were pointing the gun at the beta who had remained silent during your exchange with the now dead alpha.

“He was right about one thing at least,” you told the beta calmly. “This isn’t a game. Hands up.”

He reluctantly complied, raising his arms to show that he wasn’t going to act as stupidly as his friend had.

“You make any sudden moves and you’ll be the next one to get a bullet in the brain.”

The beta nodded before his eyes briefly flicked behind you. There wasn’t time to react, as you realized one of them must have snuck up on you, because you were pushed to the ground almost immediately after. The gun fell from your hands as you felt like the wind had been knocked out of you, but you were quick to try and reach it again.

It was another alpha who had now climbed on top of you, and he pulled your head back by gripping onto your hair tightly. You groaned from the pain, but never stopped trying to reach for the gun. When your fingers finally wrapped around the grip again, the alpha turned you over roughly, his hands now reaching up to your throat.

“Don’t just stand there, you idiot,” the new alpha yelled at the useless beta who still hadn’t made a move. “Get the damned gun off her!”

His fingers started to tighten around your neck, and you began gasping for air. As the beta was brought out of his stupor, you panicked and lifted the gun up to aim it at him. The trigger was pulled before you even had time to really think about it, and the bullet hit him in the chest, causing him to stagger forward and then fall on his knees. You pulled it another time, this time getting him in the head and you briefly hoped that it had lodged into his brain. But that was the least of your worries, as you struggled with the lack of oxygen you were still experiencing.

You bent your arms to try and aim it at the alpha instead and he finally relinquished his merciless grip around your neck. Unfortunately, the action just caused you to let out a choked gasp and then a desperate inhale as air filled your lungs again. He took it as his opportunity to lean forward and try to wrestle the gun from your hands. You pulled the trigger once more in an act of desperation, fear completely overcoming you in that moment. But the bullet just went up into the roof and the alpha continued to try and overpower you.

But then by some miracle, his grip loosened, and he was pushed away from you. Turning onto your side, you coughed a few times as your throat still felt sore from the way he'd been squeezing down on it. Rick was focused on the other alpha, absolutely furious as the force of his fist brought the asshole down onto the floor. He glanced at you briefly, seeing that you were okay for the most part, but still struggling to get your breathing back to normal. Yet, when he caught sight of the discolored skin around your throat, with the imprint of the other alpha’s fingers there, he saw red.

He rounded on the other man again, bringing his fists down relentlessly while the bastard struggled to try and gain the upper hand. Rick vaguely noted the way you stood up on slightly shaky legs and closed the distance between the two of you. A final shot rang out as you fired another bullet into the alpha’s head, bringing an abrupt end to Rick’s assault on him.

“He… he’s not worth it,” you told Rick, your voice hoarse after the recent assault on your throat.

Rick stood up, clearly still fuming as he regarded you irately.

“He could have killed you, Y/N,” he yelled, gesturing to your neck and the tender skin there. “Do you have a death wish or something? I tried to tell you this was a bad idea, why don’t you ever listen?”

You had never felt so vulnerable around Rick as you did in that moment. You had truly been terrified that you wouldn’t make it through that alive. But he had come for you and while you knew that he was right about you being reckless and that his anger was coming from a place of protectiveness, you still hated that he was mad at you.

So, before he could get another word out, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him in a grateful hug. Rick hesitated for just a moment before he returned your tight embrace, his head falling to the crook of your neck as he let out a sigh of relief. For the first time, you let him see a more sensitive side of you, because if there was any alpha in the world that you felt safe around like that, it was him.

But his anger and frustration hadn't faded yet and you let out a startled gasp as he pushed you against the nearest wall. Despite his agitation, you melted into his hold as Rick turned his head and began pressing frantic kisses along your mating gland in an attempt to calm himself down. It felt so good and so right, and it caused your inner omega to feel completely and utterly content. His lips were soft against your sensitive skin and a rush of desire swept through you from how he teased all of your senses by stimulating that single spot. When his tongue darted out, licking along the entirety of the gland that was still smooth and unclaimed, you let out a desperate moan.

"You're gonna learn to listen," he practically growled out against your skin.

The underlying warning that was in his tone caused your stubborn nature to rise within you.

"Or what?" You challenged him.

Rick's teeth bit down onto your gland and you realized with surprise that you were disappointed because he didn't break into the skin. You had never even seriously considered him claiming you, but that one small action left you yearning for it.

"Don't push me, omega," he warned you again, his fingers digging into your waist through the material of your shirt.

"What're you gonna do, cowboy?" You asked him again, wanting to do exactly that.

You weren't just surprised by this new dominant side he was showing, but you were also surprised by how much you liked it. Maybe you should have been worried, because he seemed less in control of himself than usual, but your own mind and body seemed to be drifting away from any sense of logic and all you could really consider was how badly you wanted him in that moment.

Rick gave you his answer by biting down harder and it didn't matter that the skin was already sore from what had just happened. Your mating gland was one of the most sensitive parts of your body, so the action only made you feel overcome with desire. You knew it would likely leave a mark - even if it wasn't the one you suddenly craved - but you didn't care and instinct took over. You tilted your head up slightly, letting your nose rest against his own scent gland before you breathed him in, almost feeling addicted to the sense of comfort he so effortlessly gave you. But you picked up on something else there too and you suddenly became worried again.

“Oh shit,” you breathed out. “Rick, you’re going into a rut…”

It all made sense to you. How on edge he’d been all day, the way his scent had become stronger than usual and now it was just obvious with your nose pressed to his mating gland.

"I know," was all he said, because of course he knew.

What was strange though, was how suddenly it had escalated. But considering the danger he'd found you in, it wasn't really that hard to believe. The whole thing probably caused his inner alpha to become desperate to claim you as his own. Even if he didn't bite into your mating gland, just spending his rut with you would likely be enough to satiate his need to prove that you belonged to him, that you were his to protect. Rick pulled back a little to look at you and you realized that you had never seen him look that turned on before. You squeezed your legs together a little as your own desire grew.

“You’ll have to stay with me,” he pointed out.

You knew what he meant. If you stayed out of his sight, he would go crazy with worry and just come and find you anyway, due to how much an alpha’s instincts took over during their rut. More to the point, he would still be able to pick up on your scent and that alone would mean that there was no way he would be able to stay away from you.

No matter what, you were about to experience an alpha’s rut for the first time, and it made you a little nervous.

“I won’t hurt you, baby,” Rick promised, knowing about your trepidation regarding the whole thing. “Just trust me.”

You nodded and Rick looked into the room behind you before apparently deciding that it would have to do. When he stepped away from you and gave you a chance to look, you saw that that there was a simple but clean hospital bed, yet practically nothing else.

“Wait here,” you told him. “I’ll find some stuff to barricade the door.”

But he tugged on your arm as you turned to leave and brought you close to him again.

“I can’t wait that long, ‘mega,” he murmured huskily in your ear.

Your eyes widened as you felt his hardened, but covered length poking into your back and you realized again just how quickly his rut had advanced. Rick’s arms wrapped around you, holding you there against him as his lips returned to your scent gland and his hands began exploring your body.

“Baby, I need you now,” he told you insistently.

And as he continued to tease you in every possible way, you knew that it was pointless to try and resist, because not only was his rut now in full force, but a familiar sense of heated and uncontrollable desire had begun building up within you too.

Next Part

#alpha!rick grimes x omega!reader #rick grimes x f!reader #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes/reader #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x fem!reader #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes/you #rick grimes/y/n #alpha rick grimes #omega reader #female reader #rick grimes fanfic

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lovergirlsdumpster · 23 days ago

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Embers among Ashes. - Call of Duty: Black Ops Cold war fic.

in ao3.

summary: Post BOCW | Duga ending - Killing Russell Adler and his team wasn't the end of Bell's torment. Among the ashes on Duga, some embers still burn - in their mind.

pairing: none (romantic), perseus/bell (platonic) tags: light angst, ptsd, nonbinary bell, post-ashes to ashes, ambiguous relationships, unresolved tension, non-canon ending, short fic. word count: 707.

'We have a job to do', 'Bell, we've got a job to do!'

, and other variants that they don't want to think about but that lurk and dig their claws into their poor mind, messing with the reality they live today. It's not really better, but a welcome change of pace from their days at the CIA, that despite them being just a few, felt like years. Brainwashing aside, of course.

But still, it sounds clear, as if Bell was sitting at a theater, looking at how actors portray their life in a shitty, low budget film. It all resonates in their mind, even now, as Bell sits in an office dedicated only to him, not 'Bell', or whatever the CIA called them, but their authentic self - if such a thing exists. In those four walls, decorated in the most exquisite workmanship of the Soviet Union, the poor soul walked like an animal in captivity - in tight circles and at different paces. Perseus gave them time and offered some support - after all, he got his right hand back, and that was something he would not fail to be grateful for. It doesn't mean, however, that he's going to turn a blind eye to the fact that his best commander was now, as another of his agents said, 'damaged goods'. That American scum caused so much damage... He had to start undoing it. Slowly, because he consulted privately with a psychiatrist, who told him that his mind was more delicate than he could have thought. They don't know exactly how much the damage is, but it's enough to consider that Bell might not continue in the service. They would have to be retired - and in that job...

It's better not to think about it. He doesn't want to think that he has to discard - kill - what he has just recovered. Bell - or... or whatever their name is these days, is the closest thing to a child that Perseus can have. Someone he molded, someone he raised under his ideals. 'Were any decisions ever in your hands?', the man asks himself sometimes. This afternoon is no exception, the grey clouds and the darkness of the evening invite reflection, with it always comes some guilt. Carefully, he approaches the door and... knock, knock. The footsteps on the other side stop. "Y-yes. Come in." Bell says, clearing his throat. Bell's been crying, he can tell from the voice immediately. The knob turns slowly, letting in the rays of light from that very bright lamp in the hallway, one Bell hates, but deems necessary. "Everything okay?" The man asks. It was a ritual they had by now. Morning, noon, and evening, he'd check on her. "Excellent." Bell lies immediately. "... It was a busy day." "But it's not day anymore. How's your night?" Silence answers in its place, and Perseus nods at the slightest quiver in her lip. "Easy." How hard it is to deal with this. "... Do you want to...?" "I still hear it. I still hear it, I hear him, and it makes me sick." The words come out faster than any of them could have anticipated. There were things left unsaid, but Bell kept them to themselves, and wished they could have done the same with the tears now staining their face. "... I'm sorry."

"... dear." Perseus begins, smiling at the poor, scared creature in front of him to calm them down. He walks into the office, closing the door behind him, and after getting approval, hugs Bell. "One day at a time. Vikhor will go in your place tomorrow if you'd rather rest." At this, Bell shakes their head. "No. I want to go. I need to distract my mind." You need to take care of your mind, Perseus thinks. But he doesn't say it, partly out of fear of how they might react. "Your agents trust your judgment." He says, and finally lets them go. "And I trust that you trust your judgment." "... I'll give you a definitive answer tomorrow. Let Vikhor know... just in case." Perseus nods. "I'll tell him. Please go rest." He says, putting a hand on Bell's shoulder. He managed to bite his tongue to keep from saying, 'you have a job to do tomorrow'.

#bell cold war #bell cod #perseus cod #black ops cold war #call of duty

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bobby-r2d2-floyd · 2 years ago

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Life Goes On (REUPLOADED)

Rhett Abbott x f!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Summary: 18 year old reader spends her last night in Wyoming with 21 year old Rhett Abbott before leaving for art school

Warnings: None? Two idiots in love not telling each other

might cross post this to ao3, not entirely sure yet but not posted anywhere else.

read part 2 here!

-----------

Freshly graduated from high school, the summer before you left to go to university had flown by. Days were packed full of riding, roping, moving cattle with the Abbott family whenever they needed, spending time caring for your younger siblings when your mom worked day shifts. You and your best friend Rhett Abbott barely had hung out at all, spare moments here and there in the hay loft when Royal wasn’t needing you two to do a chore around their property. Before you knew it, it was your last night in town.

You were perched atop of your roof, staring at the stars as you took slow drags from your cigarette, you missed the sound of your bedroom window being open and boots padding across the shingles. You don’t need to turn around to know who it was that was joining you, you already knew.

Rhett dropped his flannel over your bare shoulders, the strings of your tank top doing nothing to keep the chill of the Wyoming night time air from sending goosebumps across your skin.

“Can’t believe this summer’s already passed by” he says, sliding up behind you and hooking his chin on your shoulder. You let out a small hum and take another drag, the only noise between the two of you being the burn of the paper.

“I can’t either, and I have no idea when I’m gonna have time to come back and see you again.” you say before exhaling the smoke that was in your lungs. “I saw you every day this summer and I still feel like I never saw you.”

He takes the cigarette from your hand, taking his own slow drag before exhaling after a few beats, “you could always not go.”

“Rhett.. I have to go. I have to get out of this town, I can’t stay here.” you tell him for what felt like the millionth time. “This is going to be good. I can go out there and I can get an education and make a name for myself that isn’t the girl who cried wolf.”

“You didn’t cry wolf, that guy.. He was no good.” Rhett says as he rubs your arm.

“Tell that to the rest of Amelia County.” you take the cigarette back and take the last hit of it before putting it in the old water filled coffee can.

He squeezes your midsection a little tighter and you lean back against him, “as much as I hate it here, I don’t want this night to end.” you say as you exhale the smoke from your lungs, watching it swirl amongst the stars before dissipating.

Tomorrow you would be headed east to Chicago, a 16 hour drive, mostly on I-80 before a stint on I-88. It was a drive that you had mapped out for weeks, even alternate routes should you need them. You weren’t expecting to get into the Art Institute straight out of high school but you were honored nonetheless to be accepted. It was something that Rhett didn’t understand, he knew you were artistic, you did murals all over the town, He just didn’t understand why you felt like you needed to go to school for it.

“Are you going to keep working with your dad?” you ask, staring at the moon rising in the distance.

“Yeah, work with him, move the cattle, now that fair season is over I'm not gonna be on the bulls as much anymore unless I do well this next time.” he says as he admires the partial view of your face in the moonlight. He knew that there wasn’t a lot of money in the bull riding at the level he was competing,or in the ranching, so the odds of him ever making it out the city to see you would be out of the question unless he picked up another job or you were able to fund his visit.

You inhale with a shaky breath and before you know it there’s a rogue tear running down your face and landing on his arm.

“Let’s get outta here. Go for a drive, pretend we have more than just a few hours.” he mumbles and you nod your head. He stands up before offering a hand to you to help you stand. When you stand, you’re a little too close than you were planning on being and you look up at him, your breath catching in your throat. He looks down at you, his dark aegean blue eyes boring into yours and for a second you wish that he would tilt your chin up and kiss you. When he doesn’t, though, choosing to step back instead you give him a small smile and a thanks as you make your way back into your room and down and out of the house, putting his flannel on properly as you make the way to the front door. Rhett kicks himself for not kissing you, but he still follows you out of the house and to his truck, putting his hat back on as he shuts the front door behind him. He opens your door for you like the gentleman he was raised to be and you smile softly as he shuts it once you're settled in the cab.

Rhett drives for what feels like hours, heading out of his own personal hell. There’s a small road up the mountain about 45 minutes from your house where as a child you always felt like you could touch the stars. Neither of you say a word as he drives, neither of you wanting to break the comfortable silence with the impending heartache of tomorrow.

He drums his fingers against his steering wheel, bringing you out of your thoughts, “haven’t even left yet and this place already feels so different.”

“Sucks we had to grow up, that you’re leaving…” he leaves the leaving me out.

“This’ll be good, right? ‘M makin’ the right choice?” you question, finally looking over at him and he looks back at you.

“Darlin’ I want nothing more than to keep you home where I know that you’re safe, but I also know that if either of us were gonna be makin’ it out of this place it would be you. You’re gonna be great wherever you end up.” he tells you, hoping that you don't hear how his voice cracks at the end.

You give him a sad smile before opening your door to climb out. He follows suit and when he makes it around the hood of his truck you wrap an arm around his waist, his own arm finds its home around your shoulders.

You make the small hike up the mountain to where there's a lookout, taking a seat in the grass you look up at the stars where they seem even brighter than they were from the roof of your home. "I'll miss this view the most, I think."

"Lookin' up at the stars definitely won't be the same tomorrow night." he responds, taking the opportunity to sit next to you this time so he can really commit your face to memory.

"It's beautiful." a smile makes its way across your lips and you miss the way he's looking at you when he replies.

"Yeah, it sure is." his eyes trail your face, quickly looking away when you finally look over at him.

At some point you fell asleep in Rhett's arms, awaking slightly damp from the morning dew and when the first rays of sunshine were finally making their way into Wyoming. You smile at the way you were curled against his chest, his arm wrapping around your hip and resting on the exposed skin there. He stirs when he feels the arm you had draped across his torso move and he looks down at you and offers a gentle smile. "Good morning, darlin'."

You return his smile with a sad sigh, "mornin'."

You both sit up, and as always he's hopping up before you so he can offer his hand to pull you up to start the walk back to the truck.

"What time you headin' out?" he asks, packing tobacco into his lip, an action that shouldn't be sexy but is coming from him.

"Uh, well.. I wanted to be leavin' now but I won't say no to breakfast?" you say with a smile and he chuckles, starting the vehicle and heading back towards town as you shoot your mom a text that Rhett and you are grabbing breakfast out so she doesn't need to worry about fixing you a plate.

He pulls into town and parks outside the dinner, both of you take your time making your way and inside. The silence is comfortable as you sip your coffee, speaking only when the waitress comes for your order.

The coffee sits like a hot coal in your stomach, nervousness for the drive and leaving your entire life, the man you fell in love with. Sure, he's three years older, 21 to your 18, but that never stopped him from being there for you. Everyone at school called you "Rhett's girl", they all knew not to mess around with you or he would be on their case. Despite all the buckle bunnies throwing themselves at him, he only ever had eyes for you.

It was easy to love him.

The food arrived and only then did you two make small talk. He asked pretty basic questions:

Where are you staying? In the dorms. Do you have a roommate? No, I don’t think so. What courses are you taking? I don’t know yet.

How long are you going to be gone? You hesitated on answering that, unsure of how long you were going to be gone and if you were even planning on coming back. “I don’t know, Rhett.”

He nods his head and puts cash down on the table, enough to cover the bill and leave plenty extra for the tip. He slides from the booth and offers his hand to you to help you stand up, you smile at the gesture and take the outstretched palm as you rise. “Well, guess we better get you back home so you can say your goodbyes and whatnot to your family.”

Rhett dropped you off at your mom’s house, his eyes following you inside as he walked over to your car, opening the unlocked door to pop the hood so he can check your oil and top of any fluids that needed it. Your mom watches him from the kitchen window as you say goodbye to your younger sister and brother, holding them both maybe a little too tight before you leave.

“It isn’t too late to change your mind, baby.” she says turning to look at you and you stand up and look over at her.

“Mama I can’t stay here, you know that.” you walk up behind her and watch as Rhett double and triple checks everything, even turning your car on and making sure you’ll have enough gas to make a good chunk of the way through Nebraska.

“Did you tell him?” she asks as she rubs your back.

“Tell him what?” you play oblivious to her question.

“That you love him.” you stiffen at her words and she lets out a small chuckle, “sweetheart the only person in this world who is too blind to see how much you love Rhett, is Rhett himself.”

“I can’t tell him.. If I told him I would want him to leave with me and you and I both know that he isn’t going to leave behind the bull riding and his family’s ranch.” you tell her and fill up a travel mug of coffee.

She sighs and goes to say something when the front door opens and not wanting to track mud throughout your mothers house from his boots, Rhett stands in the doorway, “your car’s all good to go darlin’. Ma’am” he says as he addresses your mom with a small smile. She shoots you a pointed look and you send back a glare. Rhett shuts the door and stands on your front porch, waiting for you to come out after saying a long goodbye to your mom.

“I was in your position, and I regret it every single day that I didn’t beg him to come with me. I know how it feels and you’re going to regret it too.” she tells you as she holds you tight.

“You did?” you ask and she nods.

“Yeah, I mean, granted I came back and married him, but your father and I lost years of what our relationship could have been, and then he passed away in that bull accident. Don’t make the same mistakes that I did.” she wipes her thumbs over your face and you shake your head.

“I can’t tell him.. He probably doesn’t even feel the same way.”

“You never know unless you say something, so say something or risk losing him forever.”

Rhett looks back at you as you open the front door and he holds it as you step outside, “you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be moving 15 hours across the country.” you laugh and he gives you a small smile before walking with you to your car. He opens the door and you throw your small bag inside that contains your wallet, cellphone, and charging cord. “Hey Rhett-”

“So listen-” he says at the same time as you, “you go first.”

You shake your head, “no, you can.”

“Be safe, please? You’ll have to stop for an oil change along the way so I left some money in the glovebox for you and there’s pepper spray in there as well should you need to use it, on the drive or in the city.” he tells you and you nod, opening your mouth to say something and he takes a step back, cutting you off. “It’s almost noon, you should be headin’ out.”

“Yeah, I uh, I guess I should.” you say, gripping your car as he walks back up to pull you in a quick hug, kissing your head before pulling away.

You inhale as much of his scent as you can, trying to commit it to memory - the tobacco and coffee of his breath as he exhales across your face, the cedar of his cologne, and the mint of his aftershave that’s barely clinging to his skin.

He climbs into the cab of his truck, head leaning back against his seat as he watches your car pull out of your driveway, tail lights fading down the road with the dust trail you leave, he pounds his steering wheel, cursing himself for not kissing you or telling you how much you meant to him and that he loved you.

You looked back in your rearview, your childhood home and Rhett’s truck fading into the background as you headed towards your future, your new life in the big city.

Life regrettably going on for the both of you, without each other.

#lewis pullman imagine #lewis pullman x reader #outer range #outer range imagine #rhett abbott #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott x reader #robert floyd #robert 'bob' floyd #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd x reader #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd x reader

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oboetemasuka · 1 year ago

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Order of Attack, part 10

I'm being put on trial for this...

and I'd do it again. In fact, I'll do it right now. (this is a scheduled post)

Cw for suicidal thoughts and Amane's cult mindset. Medical information may be inaccurate. I might go over this again when I wake up.

Courtesy link to AO3, which will be updated at some point tomorrow.

...Can I finally call this hurt/comfort?

"Wouldn’t it be weird for me to have thoughts on that, then?" Muu picked at her nails. "After all, I didn't do anything wrong. You forgave me!"

Was Muu always this callous? Es took a nervous breath. They had to find out. "But… don't you feel bad for Amane at least?"

"Hm? Why would I? She has nothing to do with me. You ask strange questions, Warden-san." Her expression remained carefree. "I mean, you didn't let up on her, and it's your job. Why should I be concerned when you're just doing your job and I'm completely uninvolved?"

Es felt ridiculous for even asking. What did they expect? This wasn't even like their conversation with Haruka, who had at least been friends with Fuuta. Muu had very little to do with Amane, and Es was asking for Muu's sympathy just because they got a kid hurt.

—

"Orbital floor fracture on the right. Traumatic retinal detachment. Bruising. Lacerations. Broken ribs. That is Amane's present condition."

Es couldn't meet Shidou's eyes. What could they even say?

"In ordinary circumstances, these are treatable wounds. But alas, I am not an ophthalmologist, so I was unable to do much about her eye. Still, she should have been completely healed if my calculations are correct. Worse yet, she actively thwarts my treatments."

"Amane…" It was Es's fault she got hurt. They chose not to forgive her out of a misguided attempt to show her that her beliefs were wrong. They dreaded having to tell her that… or maybe they didn't have to…

"Kajiyama-kun's condition is even worse. I am sure you remember what I told you. He was in terrible shape by the end of the interrogation. You should have called me over sooner."

Es was too ashamed to tell Shidou that they had at least seven chances to get him at the time.

"He has asked on multiple occasions to make the pain stop. Forever. Both their minds and bodies are at their limits. Please, Es-kun, put an end to this. They could die if they are stuck here any longer."

Es had personally seen Fuuta's fading will. They dreaded what they would find with Amane. But what could they do but carry on with their duties of Milgram?

—

Amane pulled the eyepatch over her eye. It was still incredibly uncomfortable, especially since she wasn't sure how to put it on correctly. She just hoped Shidou wouldn't get on her case about it again when she went to visit Fuuta.

"Oh, Amane-chan!" Mahiru skipped up to her but wobbled on one step. "Do you... do you need help with that?" Her voice was shaky despite her attempts to sound as bubbly as she used to.

Amane nodded and let Mahiru adjust the eyepatch. To think that only a week ago she would have swatted Mahiru's hand away or turned around and sped-walked away. But maybe letting Mahiru help her would have more benefits than consequences. She recalled her promise to Mahiru; it wasn’t just Fuuta she was looking out for. She told Mahiru that she’d help with her redemption too. It’s okay to disobey the laws of my faith a little longer, right? If it means saving two more souls…

"There you go, all better," Mahiru said.

Amane didn’t know just what Mahiru did, but she could barely feel the eyepatch anymore.

"Thank you, Mahiru-san."

"Oh, no need to thank me… You know, I knew you were still the same Amane-chan deep down."

The same? What was she implying? "Don't push it…"

"S-sorry!" Too harsh?

"Mahiru-san, do you want to come with me?"

Amane figured that maybe Fuuta would listen to her if she wasn't some lone crazy kid. Mahiru seemed to be thinking something in a similar vein.

"Of course. I'll just… be with you."

Shidou's cell door opened, and Yuno stepped out.

"Oh! Mahiru-san. Amane-chan."

"Hi, Yuno-chan…"

"Kashiki Yuno. What are the conditions inside that cell?"

"Oh, Shidou-san just woke up. Fuuta is kind of in a daze, though."

"No matter. We are just here to check on him like usual."

Yuno turned to Mahiru. "Are you sure you want to go in after what happened last time?"

"Huh? Oh, I'm… I'm fine. Besides, I'll let Amane-chan do most of the talking."

"Do you want me to stay with you?"

"No, I'll be fine."

"Well, if you insist. But if Fuuta says anything nasty to you-"

"I'll be fine! Really! But thanks for looking out for me, Yuno-chan."

Yuno was right about Fuuta being in a daze. That meant she was probably wrong about the possibility of him snapping at them.

"Fuuta Kajiyama." Fuuta stirred and barely cracked his eyes open when Amane spoke. "We are very concerned about your condition."

"You and every… no sh…" Just from that tone, it was clear he was getting worse.

"You continue to rely on medicine. Anyone can see it is only making you worse. You want numbness? Numbness is not the answer."

Fuuta looked ready to object, but Mahiru spoke up.

"Fuuta-kun, I… I know you're tired of everyone stopping by and worrying, but… we really do mean it. It's not some… some self-serving pity. We really do care about you."

Fuuta's expression softened. Amane was glad Mahiru stepped in. She wouldn't have been able to put it like that.

Mahiru continued, "I know how tempting it is to never have to feel anything again. But running away from the pain isn't the answer. Yes, it isn't pleasant, but it makes us human. I promise there's something to look forward to after all of it." She paused to gauge Fuuta's reaction. There was no trace of hostility left. She lowered her voice so Amane wouldn't hear. "Listen to Shidou. Won't you take better care of yourself? …If not for your own sake, then for Amane-chan as well?"

After a long silence, Fuuta responded, "Your sake… huh… I'll think about it… Amane and you…" He smiled weakly at Mahiru. "That… that was all you?"

Amane didn't have much more to add onto Mahiru's spiel. "Those were wise words. Fuuta Kajiyama, will you keep them in mind?"

"Mmhmm."

"Mahiru-san, how did you do it?" Amane asked. Whatever Mahiru had told Fuuta at the end, it seemed to work.

"Oh, it was all you. Before, I wasn't sure how to approach Fuuta-kun. But you helped me realize what he was fighting. Thank you, Amane-chan."

"Thank you. You knew what to say to get through to him."

#milgram #muu kusunoki #es milgram #milgram es #shidou kirisaki #amane momose #mahiru shiina #yuno kashiki #fuuta kajiyama #cw suicidal thoughts #cw cults #bad things happen to amane #order of attack

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dribs-and-drabbles · 1 year ago

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Current Tag Game

I've been tagged by quite a few people now (thank you @twig-tea @colourme-feral @slayerkitty and @telomeke!) and in the past I've been too busy to complete these kinds of things but even though I'm still busy now, I figured I ought to do it this time...and if I don't do it now it won't get done. So, I'ma do it in 15 mins. Let's go!

Current time: 09:49

Current activity: I've just returned to my hotel room after having had breakfast. Hash Browns and Baked Beans ftw!! (<- How to tell someone you're British without telling them you're British 😂).

Currently thinking about: All the things that need to be done today - I'm away for work and I need to prep some stuff before leaving the hotel to go pick up some food for lunch because I won't have time to pop out later, and then I have to go to the location for today's work event and I basically won't stop until after it finishes tonight at 21:30 ish. (And somehow squeeze in Dangerous Romance somewhere there...maybe during my dinner break...or maybe I'll have to wait until afterwards when I'm back in the hotel again...but the internet is patchy at best - so if you don't hear me posting about it, it's because I won't be watching it until tomorrow evening 😭)

(Come on Lin, you gotta write faster!)

Current favourite song: This is so hard to pick just one! Okay, Until Then by Tilly Birds. I've known of the band since the Bad Buddy days but never really listened to their albums until Only Friends started airing and I discovered I'm Not Boring, You're Just Bored which made me go to their albums and now I'm a fan of more of their work.

Currently reading: I've said it before but I basically live in the Bad Buddy fandom on ao3. All other books are collecting dust on my bedside table, unread and unloved this whole year 😥

Currently watching: Not much actually since a lot finished airing recently. So, Dangerous Romance, Kiseki Dear to Me and You Are Mine. I've been waiting on english subs for the final episode of Love in Translation but it's been so long I might not bother anymore. And I paused I Feel You Linger in the Air before ep 9 and I'm waiting until the last ep has aired before I go back to it. I need to know if it's going to have a happy ending before I continue because it was SO beautiful but also SO heartbreaking and I was just scared all the time for the characters (someone tell me if it ends happily for all our couples!).

Special sub-heading:

Currently NOT watching and Sad About It So I've Had To Block The Tags: Shadow the series, My Gangster Oppa, and I Cannot Reach You (and maybe a few others I can't remember - I might not be able to watch Red Peafowl for the same reason) - all mainly because they're on platforms I don't subscribe to.

Current favourite character: I think Chen Yi and Ai Di (the Taiwanese Pat and Pran basically) - the one who realises his feelings late and goes ALL IN and the the other who has pined FOR YEARS and can't quite believe he finally gets to HAVE HIS DREAM. They own my whole heart.

Current WIP: My Thai Communal Wardrobe Advent Giveaway! Come request for a post about an item of clothing that has appeared in two or more shows to be dedicated to yourself or to someone else. I've only had about 10 requests so far - and I've already found about FIVE more, so the list I have currently stands at 50+!! There are plenty to go around 😁 Ask for more than one as well if you want.

Tagging a few who appeared in my recent notifications (and apologies if you've already been tagged, have already done it, or aren't interested!): @dimplesandfierceeyes @hsfavoriteworlds @belladonna-and-the-sweetpeas @quodekash and @aprilblossomgirl

#that tag game #current tag game #it's 10:24 now #so I did NOT do it in 15 mins #gotta rush now. BYE!

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heniareth · 1 year ago

Text

I hope you don't mind me tacking this story on to your post, but it is what inspired the story in the first place after all. It is angst 😌😌

(I have it posted on AO3, but I also include the text below)

Wordcount: 2707 | Rating: Explicit

WARNINGS:

somebody's face gets burned off

character death

angst centered around moral scruples (and Soris believes himself to be a bad person by the end of this)

The Voices of Demons

Demons are liars and he can’t trust a single one of them. They whisper falsehoods into your ears, turn your mind and before you know it, poof! You are an abomination. They are worse than the shem. They know exactly what to say to get under your skin.

They have been Soris’s only company for the last year.

Or was it months?

How long since they have thrown him into this cell?

Time has lost all meaning for Soris. He knows that only one bitter cold winter has passed. Other than that, the days could as well not be passing at all. He has been down here so long, he is sure he doesn’t remember what the sky looks like. The constant running of day after day after day would be more bearable if he could just sleep through it, but in his dreams lie the Maker-damned demons, waiting for him. He doesn’t want them. They are starting to be more and more convincing with each passing day. The worst is the one telling him about the door to freedom and the bright, untouched tomorrow it would open for him, if he were only to let them in and forget about everything else.

Forget about the wedding.

Forget about his cousin’s blood on the stones of the arl’s estate.

Forget about Shianni’s screams, the laughing guards, and the way they talked about fire and steel running through his home. In a sense, he should count himself lucky. He has been untouched by the purge and the plague.

He doesn't feel lucky.

Alone in his cell, accompanied only by whispers that drip honey-sweet poison in his ears, Soris wraps his arms around himself and buries his face against his knees. He only looks up, briefly, when he hears the grating voice of Vaughan Kendells, son of the former arl of Denerim, from around the corner.

These days, the voice of that pig, the way it makes his throat lock up and the tips of his fingers start to burn with heat, is the only thing keeping him anchored to the waking world. Ironic, really. He would love to see that bastard burn. But above all, he just wants to be left alone.

Screams have become so commonplace that they don’t catch Soris’s attention anymore. What gets him to stand up and approach the bars of his cell is the sound of steel ringing against steel.

Somebody is fighting.

Unbidden, memories of that fateful wedding day creep in. Soris flinches back and covers his ears. He is not there. It has passed. And he has heard combat again, afterwards, and even fire in the back rooms, when the arl’s guards were replaced by different ones. Saved his life, probably. The new guards didn’t seem to know about his magic then and are none the wiser now.

“Hello?”

Soris clenches his teeth and presses down harder on his ears when the voice of Vaughan Kendells, irritating in the hopefulness it possesses, cuts through the combat.

The noise quiets. Then there are more voices. Soris steps up to the bars of his cell once more. He can’t make out the exact contents of the conversation, but he does understand out a few words here and there. Mostly Vaughan’s.

“Let… free. And I promise…”

Soris leans heavily against the wall.

Of course Vaughan would start to bargain. And, of course, he coyld do the same. But what does he have that he might offer these people who have fought their way into the dungeon?

Nothing.

He will stay and rot down here forever.

He feels the demon, like a hand on his cheek, and all blood freezes in his veins.

Come. Leave all this behind.

Soris shrinks further into his cell, panicked, looking for a way out. The demon smiles, he can see it, the hand reaches, reaches towards him-

“Help!” Soris curls further away, sweat on his face, voice rasping through his throat, heart galloping in his chest. “Help me!”

Steps. Towards him! Soris makes a run for it. His shaking hands find the bars and he looks up just in time to see-

An elf?

Soris pulls himself up. The elf watches him carefully, frowning, one hand on the pommel of a dagger. He is short, carries his hair in a high braid, dresses in servant’s clothing, but on his face… Soris squints in the torchlight. Dark lines run over one side of the elf’s face. The other side is entirely dark, as if he had an enormous bruise. A bruise… or a tattoo.

Soris sucks air in through his teeth. “Is that… are you Dalish?”

The elf says something, something harsh that sounds like a curse, and wipes at his face. More dark is left in the wake of his hand. A human woman steps around the corner, a bow slung over her shoulder, and immediately tuts at the elf.

“You are removing all the crème! Again!”

“It does not work anyways,” the elf snaps back.

The woman sighs and turns to Soris. Soris shrinks back. He doesn’t want more humans. And there is another human woman, an elderly woman—a mage!—rounding the corner, and behind her a dwarf with a sharp-looking axe. Who are these people?

“Were you the one screaming? What's wrong?” the red-haired woman asks, and at the same time, the Dalish man decidedly steps in front of her, arms crossed.

“Who are you?”

“I- I need- Soris.” Soris gives himself a shove. “My name is Soris. Please-” He has to interrupt himself to cough away the rasp in his throat. He hasn’t spoke to anybody in… how long?

“Please,” he finally manages. “Get me out of here.”

“Leave him!” Vaughan’s voice barks around the corner. “He has nothing to offer you! I will see to it that you-”

“Please,” Soris whispers entreatingly. “Please, please, please, get me out. That man is a liar. He- My cousin, he forced- They killed-”

The Dalish man’s face darkens. He nods to the redhead. The woman bends down towards him, Soris scrambles back, something clicks and then the door to his cell swings open.

Soris blinks, aware that he could leave. Processing that he can leave.

“Wynne, check him over,” the Dalish man commands. “Oghren, Leliana, get the shemlen out and bind him.”

The elderly woman, the mage, enters his cell. The other two leave. Soris shrinks further away as the elderly woman conjures up a ball of light.

“Easy,” she hushes, and Soris is suddenly and vividly reminded of the elderly neighbor who used to watch him and Shianni and- “Deep breaths, Soris. You will be out in no time. Are you from Denerim? Do you have family here?”

The elderly woman keeps her litany of questions up throughout the whole procedure. The whispering voices of the demons get easier to ignore. Vaughan’s indignant protests do not. Soris doesn’t want to walk past him. The elderly mage, however, gets him as far as leaving his cell by simply taking him by the arm and leading him outside. He follows.

The voices return.

“Ser mage,” Soris ventures tentatively. “How do you make them stop?”

“Make what stop?” the elderly mage asks.

A shout of protest, and then the mage’s companions appear around the corner.

They are dragging Vaughan behind them.

Vaughan’s face twists into a sneer, but before he can say anything he is kicked into the back of his legs and forced onto his knees. The Dalish man casually pulls out his dagger, yanks Vaughan’s head back by the hair and sets the dagger across Vaughan’s throat. All protest dies away, and only hasty breaths permeate the silence.

Soris can feel his heart in his dry throat.

“You say this man forced himself onto your cousin and then murdered them,” the Dalish man says, his voice cold.

“Two-” Soris clears his throat. His voice remains a whisper. “Two cousins. We tried to save Shianni. We were overwhelmed-”

“Listen to me,” Vaughan rasps, imploringly. “You don’t know the chance you are throwing away. I know everything about your plans to overthrow-”

“There is nothing you have that I want,” the Dalish man replies. “Except for the truth. Is what this man says true?”

Vaughan lets out a quiet, gurgled breath. He glances up at Soris.

Soris can’t look away.

“No.”

The voices are back.

“He is lying.” Vaughan’s voice is strained by the pressure of the blade on his windpipe. The look on his face, however, is calm. A sneer. “I would never do such a thing. What does this boy know?”

“Warden,” the redheaded woman says, laying one careful hand on the Dalish man’s shoulder. “Maybe we should let him live. He could be useful.”

The voices are getting louder.

“Much more useful than this boy, I assure you,” Vaughan purrs, looking not at the Dalish man, but at Soris. “Really, Warden. Consider it. I am much less embarrassing company than this whimp.”

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Soris is aware of his fingers curling into the palms of his hands, singing his skin in an attempt to hide his abilities, hide the magic threatening to burst forth. The voices grow more intense. Kill him. Kill him before it’s too late!

The flames on his fingers flare up.

The redhead lets out a quiet, involuntary gasp. Even the elderly mage flinches back from him as if burned. Vaughan lets out a loud, rasped hiss.

"Apostate!"

Soris’s heart sinks as the voices of the demons tormenting him kick up into a roar.

The Dalish man is still holding his dagger to Vaughan’s throat and is looking at him. Not friendly, definitely not. But not scared.

Enough to give him hope. Soris takes a shaky breath.

“I am an apostate,” he says quietly. There is no point in trying to hide any more. Flames flicker up his fingers and Soris winces before he quickly extinguishes them. “Please. You have to believe me. I don’t want to hurt anybody.”

Vaughan bursts into laughter.

Soris can’t help but agree with him. What was he thinking? Who would help an apostate, an elf, a poor schmuck who is not even a proper adult, who wasn’t even able to get married, who watched his cousin die, and who reveals his magic to the first stranger he comes across? Vaughan has power, a name. Whatever it is these people want to accomplish, Soris knows whom he would help.

Come, child. Let me in and you will be free from all of this.

Soris tries to shake the demon off and holds on to the eyes of the Dalish man, still calm, still settled on him. The Dalish man returns his gaze.

Then he removes the dagger from Vaughan’s throat.

Soris lowers his head, and the air feels sticky around him.

Movement makes him look up, and suddenly the Dalish man is holding his dagger out, out with his pommel to Soris. Soris jerks his head up, eyes wide. What-?

“This man will die. Take your justice,” the Dalish man says. “If you will not, I will kill him.”

Vaughan sputters, then protests, loudly. There is fear in his voice. He squirms in place, but the Dalish man holds him in place. Soris looks form Vaughan to the dagger to its owner and thinks that he has mistaken for calm what is actually burning cold anger.

Flames lick up his fingers, his hand, in response. Vaughan lets out a terrified yelp.

Kill him. The demons that surround him are slavering at the impending spectacle.

Soris lets out a shaky breath.

“I- I don’t want to hurt anybody,” he stammers.

Vaughan stops squirming, and the fear is replaced with a sneer once more. Soris tries his best to ignore him.

“I- I should go home. Or…” He pushes the demon’s voices away again. “Or maybe flee the city. It’s not safe…”

“Then join us,” the Dalish man says.

The dagger glints in the torchlight. Vaughan sneers and draws in a breath to speak.

Something clicks within Soris.

His hand bursts into flames. The smell of singed hair and fabric fills the room, and like a flash the fear, the panic, is back in Vaughan’s eyes. Soris moves before he can think otherwise. The screams are like something straight out of a nightmare and he shuts his eyes, hearing Shianni over Vaughan, watching the fire tint the darkness behind his eyelids red. Red like blood, red like his cousin’s wedding clothes.

Yes!

Soris yanks his hand back, stumbles away from the group and hastily extinguishes the flames. The word continues to hiss in his ear—or maybe it’s the sizzling of flesh and fat that he hears. Vaughan is still screaming.

With one quick, swift movement, the Dalish man cuts his throat. The screams stop.

Soris tries to regain control over his harried breathing. He did it. He killed Vaughan. But he didn’t. Did he? Is there a demon inside him now?

A hand lands on his shoulder. Soris flinches back and scrambles to his feet, away.

“It’s alright,” the elderly mage says. Then, to the Dalish man, she speaks in a sterner tone, “Was that really necessary?”

“I said I would kill the shemlen if he didn’t,” the Dalish man answers with a frown and wipes his dagger clean.

“That is not what I mean,” the elderly mage sighs and then hands Soris a flask of water. A bright glow briefly surrounds his hand and Soris is fairly sure he is not doing that. “He did not have to kill that man. You pushed him.”

“I did not!” the Dalish man protests. “And even if: he had the right to take revenge. It is only just.”

Soris doesn’t feel just. He feels filthy. There are bits of Vaughan’s skin sticking to his hands and they won’t come off with the water.

“We should move on,” the redhead says and turns to Soris. “I can show you a way out of this dungeon. Will you be able to make it to the estate of arl Eamon?”

Soris nods, weakly. What else can he do?

“Good!” The redhead gives him a cheerful, encouraging smile and turns to the rest of the group. “Then he can wait there for us, no? If he will indeed join us.”

Soris has no time to worry about the doubt in her voice before the Dalish man nods. “For now, he will. Lead him out.”

“Follow me,” the redhead says and is already moving.

Soris gives the flask with the water back and hurries to follow the human woman. She leads him around several corners in between which he would have gotten lost, until she finally opens a small door.

“This will take you through the servant’s exit,” she says. “Good luck! See you at the estate.”

Soris picks at the bits of skin melted to his hand and starts climbing the stairs.

Time regains none of its meaning until Soris pushes open yet another door and finds himself on a busy Denerim street. The sun is high in the sky and hurts his eyes. He slinks off to the side, sits down in the shadow of a buttress, and waits until his eyes get used to the light. They burn. They water. He is crying.

The air is sweet and heavy with salt like the day of the wedding. There is a slight wind that chases small, fluffy clouds over the blue sky. It is like nothing has changed, but everything has changed.

How long has he been down there?

What is going to happen to him?

His hand, the hand with which he burned Vaughan’s face off, is red, blistered, and still has bits of skin sticking to it. He braces himself against the wall as a wave of nausea washes over him.

He listened to the demons. Why did he do that?

What is going to happen to him?

Soris sits there until his legs can carry him again and his vision is no longer clouded by tears. Then he slowly carries himself in the direction of the estate of arl Eamon. The voices of the demons haunting him drown in the noise of the streets of Denerim.

[IMAGE ID: Snippet of an Ao3 comment reading "Now I do wonder what an Apostate Soris would do or not about Caladrius, a much more powerful mage with a whole entourage of soldiers... who took his wife and uncle from him. This is currently tickling my brain." /END ID]

not to steal your comment @heniareth but hear me out:

Tabris worldstate. Both for convenience of Soris and the Warden already sharing trust (and possibly the Warden already knowing he's a mage) and because you know i love me a good Tabris

Soris became a pariah for his participation in the City Elf Origin, but his cousin and fellow rebel has finally returned and is laying their righteous wrath upon the Tevinter slavers

When Tabris visits Soris in their family home, he asks for a helmet and to accompany him to chase out the slavers. The armor they give him is incredibly light. Its main purpose is just to disguise him so that nobody gets the idea to turn him in later since he's already in disfavor from the last time he attempted to fight for his community. He's nervous, but even if he's not a fighter, with magic and his cousin at his side, he will go

As they proceed towards the holding cells, Soris's worry grows because Cyrion and especially Valora were taken so long ago. Is there even any chance they still remain? And when they find Caladrius? And Cyrion is beaten and caged and Valora are nowhere to be found?

Soris may not be able to beat them all on his own, but the Warden can. And they certainly won't mind Soris on the side frying a few slavers of his own

A non-Tabris Warden would change a few things, but this could also be very interesting

Firstly, with a non-Tabris, Soris is going to be met in prison. Do his captors know he's an apostate? Were they intending to transfer him to Kinloch once they were done torturing him? Did they intend to let him rot in their own cells?

Mahariel might introduce him to the concept of mages being valued and respected within Dalish communities. Surana might sympathize with his plight of being a mage (or scorn him for trying to live outside the Circle)

A non-Tabris Warden could still try to get Soris to stick out his neck once more for a community that rewarded his previous attempt with rocks thrown at his head, but it will require a bit of persuasion

Then, when they finally reach the Caladrius and his cages, Cyrion and Valora are both already gone

#soris tabris #au: apostate soris #dragon age #dao #dragon age origins #dragon age origins fanfic #dao fanfic #da origins fanfic #vaughan #vaughan kendells #the warden #graphic descriptions of violence #angst #moral dilemma #moral scrupels #fade demons #character study #my writings

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nureyevv · 5 years ago

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Thirty Seconds

There were many not great things that happened in the first thirty seconds Juno Steel spent back on Mars after trying to leave Hyperion’s worries behind him. The worst thing, though, was that in the time before those thirty seconds, things were good. Peter and him had finally worked things out, finally gotten to a place of stability in their relationship. Were things perfect? Of course not. But each night Juno fell asleep next to the same warm body and woke to the same loving smile he thought that, maybe, he might actually have a forever to look forward too. It was a sentiment he’d lost a long time ago, and wasn’t unhappy to be finding his way back to.

And then thirty seconds hit. Two steps off the ship and the crew was surrounded by the Hyperion City Police Department, blazers angled toward them and ready to fire. They’d dealt with cops before. Juno May have been new to the life of crime but Jet, Vespa, Buddy, and Nureyev all had the mind to get out of scrapes just like this one. By all accounts things should have been fine, and they almost were, until someone spoke.

“Juno?” asked a familiar voice from within the chaos. Had it been anyone else he probably wouldn’t have even noticed. He would have stayed where he was, standing next to Nureyev and waiting for his signal to make their move. This wasn’t anyone though, in their voice he could still imagine his old wedding dress, packed away and out of sight but never truly gone. He’d never been able to bring himself to sell it. After all, he’d never gotten the chance to use it for its intended purpose. Or, at least, he liked to think that he hadn’t. It was a bit of a downer to think he spent all that money for the gown he was going to wear as he sat alone on the altar steps.

“Di—“ he said, forgetting himself and spinning around to face the voice. Peter stiffened at his side, eyes ever focused on the guns aimed at them. His eyes flashed with fear as he moved to grab Juno’s arm, but it was too late. At his right Rita yelled a warning. He couldn’t hear exactly what she’d said, because by then his sudden movement had been enough to startle a shot out of some amateur cop’s pistol.

It hit Juno square in the back and he crumpled at the impact. He’d had enough experience being shot that he was able to put together that the bullet had been set to stun in the split second before the world went dark. Really, though, that knowledge didn’t bring him much comfort, because it was right then that he found the face among the crowd: Diamond, beautiful as the day they left him on their wedding day.

Nureyev was next to lose his composure, or maybe it was Rita. It was hard to tell for sure as he slipped out of consciousness, but they both rushed for him as he fell. Peter seethed like he was only barely restraining himself from not taking each and every one of them out then and there. He was pretty sure Rita yelled something along the lines of, “oh you’re gonna regret hurting the boss— now you’ve got another thing comin, and her names RITA!”

And then he was out cold, long before he ever got the chance to see if the two of them really did end up charging a squadron of officers. He didn’t know if he dreamed, but he was sure even his worst nightmare would be nothing compared to the lecture Buddy would give him when he came to.

—

After that thrilling assortment of particularly unlucky moments, Juno had trouble deciding whether his fortune had really changed when he came to.

Pros and cons: pro, he knew where he was. Con, “where he was” was a Hyperion City holding cell. Pro, he wasn’t alone. Nureyev was to his side, looking tired and a bit less pristine as usual, but alive all the same. Con, Juno had some explaining to do.

He was working on being more open— he owed Peter that after everything they’d been through, after the pain he’d caused. Juno had shared parts of himself he thought he’d never say aloud, and it was terrifying, but it was also really really nice. It made him feel like he might actually have a chance of moving on. That, one day, he might have a future with this man.

Diamond hadn’t even crossed his mind as something to bring up, though. Nureyev knew the basics: he’d been a detective for the HCPD once upon a time, but the corruption had nearly driven him insane. It’d started with late nights at the office, hoping that if he worked hard enough, he might be able to be able to balance out the immoral aspects of the law department with his own dedication. When that wasn’t enough, he started looking into closed cases for signs of malconduct. He’d received a few nasty blows from that stunt. Bad cops didn’t take a liking to him digging around in their business. He’d gotten solid evidence, though, and that made it worth it. When he gave that to the captain it’d be over—they couldn’t dispute hard facts. One by one he’d clear the precinct of criminals wearing badges.

Or, at least, that’s what he thought would happen. He’d been so naive back then.

Across from him, Nureyev stirred, having noticed Juno was awake. His back still ached, so he hadn’t attempted standing, yet. He was sure that Peter noticed this, always observing, and as such had decided to meet Juno where he sat on the cell’s bench. He felt a slender hand caressed his cheek. Juno leaned into the comfort. Dark eyes studied him, and Juno could practically see the question on his face.Nureyev being Nureyev, though, he didn’t pry. Gently, he pulled Juno towards his chest and wrapped him in a warm embrace.

“Are you alright, Juno?” He asked, that familiar vulnerability in his voice that made Juno’s heart jump from his chest. It made him think of how this man holding him, a master of hiding the truth of himself, could so easily trust him everything.

“I should be asking you the same thing,” he murmured into Nureyev’s collar. He soaked in that scent he’d been unable to name all that time ago and had finally come to mean “home.”

“Don’t concern yourself with me-- I’m fine. The question is, are you?”

Was he fine? Juno supposed the short answer was yes, he was still in one piece. Yes, he would live. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to say the words, not when there was so much else that needed to be said. He needed to tell Peter. He hated this feeling that he was keeping something from the man who could be arrested and still only worry about him, if he was hurt, if he needed help.

He thought back to what came after he’d handed in his reports on corrupt officers, trying to recall the important details. “I need to tell you something,” he stammered, pulling away from Nureyev’s embrace to look him in the eye.

“Juno…” Peter began, but he didn’t let him finish.

“No-- I want to tell you. Please.”

Nureyev still looked hesitant for a moment, almost guiltily, as if he’d forced this out of Juno rather than it being his own choice. It was almost funny-- as if Peter could make Juno feel uncomfortable, even if he wanted to. The thief didn’t have that sort of unkindness in him. A moment later, Nureyev’s face relaxed, and he nodded.

So, Juno said what he needed to say.

A few weeks after he turned in his paperwork on what was happening in the office, the reports went missing. He brought it up with anyone who’d listen, but nothing changed. If he was being honest, he sort of started obsessing over it. Rita didn’t bring it up, but she’d been there through all of it and she’d seen just how bad he’d gotten. It was a wonder she hadn’t quit on him, but she wasn’t the only one he’d been close to in those days, and many others weren’t so patient. Diamond, his partner, had a front row seat to the shit show.

For all the bitterness Juno held for them now, he had to admit they had never been a dirty cop. It was why they had worked so well together, both at the precinct and in… well, everything else. By day they did what they thought was right; they kept the city safe. But for Diamond, being a police officer was just a job, a job they enjoyed, yes, but a job all the same. For Juno, on the other hand, his badge controlled his entire life. He didn’t know any other way.

They’d been happy, though, when they were together. Diamond would cook, Juno would burn toast, and then when they got to the office they’d spend the day side by side, trying to make the world a better place. Sure, they weren’t always happy. Juno wasn’t even comfortable, some days, when he’d find himself caught up on something that had happened at work and Diamond would scowl at him for being such a downer. He still remembered the look on their face at dinner one evening when he’d mentioned something about a case that was still bothering him.

“It’s solved. We caught them.”

Juno’s brows had knotted together. “I know, but Di, the witness said the perp used a wrench, not a blaster--”

“Juno,” they’d snapped, and he lost track of whatever it was he was planning to say next. “Drop it.”

So he had. At least, until he was sure Diamond was asleep and he could look through the evidence on his comms without waking them. No relationship was perfect, though. No one had a partner who listened one hundred percent of the time. No one had a partner who was happy to lend an ear to their loved one’s every anxiety. And really, if a person like that did exist, what had Juno done to deserve them?

So they’d gone through the motions. They dated, they moved in together, they got engaged, and they set a date.

Despite it all, Juno really had loved them. For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t alone, and that had to count for something.

As their wedding approached Juno became more and more absorbed in his work. A good fiance would have noticed that they were growing apart, but he was so convinced he could change things that it flew right over his head. He didn’t eat, he didn’t sleep. He just worked, all the time, nonstop. He’d insisted they couldn’t ignore him forever, they’d either have to kill him or listen to him, but either way they’d have to do something. And, to their credit, they did do something, it just wasn’t what he’d expected.

They fired him.

Looking back, that must have been the last straw for Diamond. Sure, they’d been reluctant to end it, but it wasn’t like they didn’t know Juno was a mess when he walked down the aisle. It was a small service, most of the guests attendees were people Diamond knew, and Juno had always got the sense that their side of the guest list wasn’t his biggest fan. And yet, with all the warning signs right in front of him, the great detective Juno Steel didn’t suspect a damn thing until Diamond hesitated half way through their vows.

Time stood still for a moment before it shattered.

“Juno. Look, I’m sorry, but I just… I can’t do this. I can’t be afraid that one day you’ll have a melt down and leave me alone.

”When Juno didn’t reply, they rambled onward. “I need stability, someone who will be present, like, actually present. I-- I’m so sorry, really, I am. But I can’t.”

He was sure a lot happened in the time after Diamond left him there, alone in his ridiculous white dress, but honestly all he remembered from the aftermath was feeling empty, like the world dropped out from underneath him. And after that, he remembered going home and sleeping on his own.

Time went on, and he never spoke to his ex fiance again until earlier that day.

Peter listened to him speak, his face like a vault. If he was hurt, it didn’t show. When Juno finally finished, there were a few moments of silence between them, and he felt as if he might suffocate if Nureyev didn’t say something soon.

And then Nureyev reminded him who he was talking to.

He leaned in and pressed hip lipstick stained lips to Juno’s with a kiss that felt like dawn of the morning after the end of the world. Peter’s hand on his cheek pulled him closer and, instinctively, Juno reached for his sleeve, afraid he might slip away. It was warm and safe, but most of all it felt like being loved. He could have lived in that kiss. He could have gone through anything as long as he still had Nureyev’s body up against his.

Of course, it had to end, but Juno didn’t feel like it was an ending. Really, it felt more like a promise, like a beginning. When Peter pulled away there was barely an inch of space between them. Juno could feel his breath on his face when he spoke.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” said those loving lips, “but I cannot honestly say I wish it hadn’t happened. I’m just not that selfless. If it had never happened, I wouldn’t have the best thing in my life. You, Juno.”

There was an intensity in the way he spoke, a fire in his eyes, that made every word ring painfully true. And, of course they did, because this was Peter Nureyev. He was a blessing Juno had no idea how he’d been lucky enough to earn. He was that someone who listened, even after every mistake he’d made, because he loved him and wanted to hear what he had to say.

All over again, Juno was hit with the knowledge that he would burn oceans to keep Nureyev at his side. It was the least of what his boyfriend deserved.

Juno smiled, all the tension that had haunted him suddenly gone, and let his head droop onto Peter’s shoulder. “Peter Nureyev, I love you so fucking much,” he mumbled, bordering on incoherent.

Nureyev laughed and planted a kiss on the top of his head. “And I you, my dear detective.” Then, changing the tone back to business: “How about I break us out of here, then? I’m sure Buddy and the rest are long gone by now. Maybe, if I’m lucky, we’ll run into your old friend and I’ll be able to thank them for making what is possibly the stupidest mistake I have ever heard.”

Reluctantly (and not without some somewhat childish whining) Juno allowed Nureyev to pry himself from his arms and get to work. As expected, almost immediately after he was free to examine the lock, he cracked it. Juno heard the distinct pop of the tumblers as Peter opened the cell door.

“You know,” he said as they made their escape, “I didn’t know you had such an interest in being married. I suppose I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

“Ha, yea,” Juno murmured.

A split second passed and he continued, flustered: “Wait, what--”

#heres my first full fleshed jupeter drabble!!#hopefully there will be more where that came from haha #anyway im up at midnight doing this instead of the seventeen other things that need to get done #guess ill die #jupeter #juno steel #peter nureyev #tpp #the penumbra podcast #my writing #might get this posted on ao3 tomorrow might not who even knows anymore #if this gets like two notes imma cry but also #sometimes you just gotta be self indulgent

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myfictionaldreams · 3 years ago

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12 Lonely Years (Ch. 1/2) // Sirius Black x Reader

Request: Your husband, Sirius Black was finally a free man, cleared of all of his charges and he was coming home to you and Harry. But the dark thoughts spiraled through your mind, you couldn't help but wonder if he even loved you anymore so you shut him out. What happens when Sirius finally snaps after you get hurt.

For: @silverose365 (thank you so much for requesting! Part 2 will be posted soon ♥)

Tags/ Warnings: descriptions of selfharm, blood and injuries, depression, anxiety attacks, self-destructive behaviour, reunited,angst, fluff, happy ending, (sirius just wants to be a good husband)

Word: 4.7k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

The three-worded headline stared back at you, all you could manage to do was collapse back into your chair and remember to breathe.

“Sirius Black Innocent”.

After all these years, twelve long hopeless years had passed since he left to chase Pettigrew. The metal ring around your finger suddenly felt heavy, finally having meaning after all these years, but would he still want you? He'd been in Azkaban for over a decade. How could you be so selfish to think about yourself right now? As your thoughts started to spiral, a flash from the fireplace snapped your attention to it at the same time an owl arrived at your window. Standing you moved towards the fireplace first, fishing out the letter that was sitting on the edge of the cold wood, and then another one flew in, whizzing past your head, the one in your hand you recognised the writing as Molly’s. Turning towards the window you opened it wide, the summer breeze flowing past you as Hedwig hopped onto the window ledge, letter in her beak. With shaky hands you took the letter, reading Harry’s words on the front, “Aunt y/n”. Once again you staggered back until you found yourself sitting in the chair, letters still collecting by the fire as another owl arrived but you couldn’t bring yourself to open any of them. This was real, he was really a free man. You don’t know when the tears started and stopped as you sobbed into your arms as your husband was finally a free man.

“So when is it that he is supposed to be home then, dear?” Molly asked at your side, shouting over the noise of the Hogwarts express that was arriving at the station. You waited impatiently, trying to reach onto your tiptoes for any sight of a spiky-haired teenager.

“Tomorrow, the ministry is still trying to right their wrongs with him but from what I’ve heard they’re trying to buy their way out of him talking to the press”, you answered hurriedly, not wanting to waste any time speaking about this anymore otherwise your nerves might get the better of you.

“Why don’t you have a little get-together? Have a few of the old order members over, I know they’ll want to see him” Molly suggested, waving her hand into the air as she spotted a few redheads, and right behind them was who you were looking for, Harry who you waved at just as enthusiastically.

Rushing forward you grabbed onto your godson, holding him close. Harry laughed and pulled away. “Harry, I swear every time you return back from Hogwarts you’ve grown another few inches, you’re nearly taller than me now! And your hair, did you even try to comb it this morning?”, you reached forward to try and control his crazy hair, something he inherited from his father but Harry ducked out of the way.

“I’ve missed you too Aunt y/n. So where is he, has he come with you?” Harry looked over your shoulder and you tried not to let the disappointment show on your face, of course he would be excited to see his godfather and from everything he had written to you about what occurred at Hogwarts during the last year, dementors, Sirius escaping but then revealing that Peter Pettigrew was the one to have betrayed his parents and kill all of those muggles, something you had been telling him since he was a child and now Sirius being a free man, Harry was bound to be exhilarated to see him.

Wiping a speck of dirt off of his shoulder you tried to keep a smile on your face, “Sorry kid, he’s still with the ministry but he’ll be back-, he’ll be home tomorrow.” Harry nodded and walked ahead with his luggage, talking with Ron and Hermione who both waved at you.

You jumped on the spot when Molly was suddenly at your shoulder, Ginny by her side. “So? What do you think? I could always help you prepare for a get together and I’m sure Sirius would love to see everyone again.” Your thoughts were racing, did you really think you could handle seeing everyone and be reunited with Sirius at the same time? But then again, at least it could be a distraction for you both, the negative thoughts have been taking over already, you could put off the eventual let down of Sirius declaring he doesn’t love you anymore, that he’s there to look after Harry, it wasn’t your job anymore. Blinking quickly, trying to quiet the voice in your head you turned to Molly and agreed that the get-together would be nice.

As the hours ticked by, you didn’t sleep for a second as you prepared your cottage, luckily due to the summer sun, it was still light until late so you could decorate the large table. Looking back towards the kitchen, you spotted Harry unpacking his luggage, you guessed you weren’t the only one anxious for tomorrow. For hours Harry had been telling you every little detail about his year, putting emphasis on Sirius and how he couldn’t wait to be a family-like you’d always told him you would be. That nearly destroyed you on the spot but you guess you’d been your own worst enemy, having spent years telling Harry stories about Sirius, about how you fell in love as teenagers and moved in together as soon as he turned 17, marrying the day after you both finished at Hogwarts and then when the dark lord’s armies became stronger, he always kept the moral up for everyone. That was until news came of the attack at Godric's Hollow and that was that last you saw of him, you knew he never would kill innocent bystanders, no matter how angry he was, he’d never do what the ministry said he did. The glasses that you were moving through the air wobbled, nearly falling to the floor as you snapped out of your thoughts, something you seemed to become lost in over the last few days.

You didn’t stop fussing all night, making sure the house was perfect, and decided at 4 am to move all of your clothes and essentials into the spare bedroom. Sirius would want his own space on his return, especially not wanting to share with you if he had lost feelings for you that you’d now convinced yourself was the truth. Finally, the guests started to arrive, Hermione along with all of the Weasleys, Kingsley, Mundungus, Minerva, Albus, and lastly, Remus who arrived looked tired and worn out. Everyone mingled around, telling the kids about all the old times with the Order but you didn’t stop, making sure all the food was cooked, everyone's drinks were filled up, not giving yourself time to stop and think about the last arrival and no one stopped you as they watched you, assuming how you were acting was from nerves and it was, but also dread.

The time was 11:59 and everyone was gathered, glass in hand waiting by the front gate, everyone kept ushering you forward but you stayed to the back, having been throwing up with anxiety only minutes before, you couldn’t even hold a drink as it would expose your trembling fingers. You couldn’t even see the gate as you heard the recognisable sound of someone apparating and then cheers from everyone, bile rose in your throat as the group around you celebrated the arrival. Then you heard him, the voice you loved so very much, with every ounce in your body, the one you had craved to hear for the last 12 years, “Harry Potter!” Another cheer followed as Sirius and Harry hugged, emotions flowing through everyone.

One by one people stepped forward to greet Sirius but you still stayed back but you were finally able to see him. The last time you’d seen him, he was 21 years old, he’d only just begun growing out his facial hair, a big grin constantly spread across his face and now, he was 33 years old and matured, grown into the man you wish had been by your side. He was thinner than he used to be, probably from all the time spent in Azkaban, hair curly and grown to his shoulders, with a beard that framed his mouth beautifully but his smile, it was still the same as it used to be. Your feet started walking of their own accord as you found yourself inside the bathroom, locking the door, you only just made it to the bathroom before you threw up once more, tears streaming down your cheeks.

It took you 10 minutes to cool down, finally calm enough to take a draught that settled your stomach and nerves, wishing you had taken it earlier, you stared back at your reflection in the mirror trying to make yourself look presentable. You needed to do this, you needed to stay strong, if not for yourself but for Harry, he expected so much since Sirius’ return home. All you wanted was a happy family but knowing that probably wasn’t going to be a possibility, you could at least put on a brave face until he returns back to Hogwarts.

Returning to the building you put on the perfect facade, everyone had joined around the table, you served drink and food, made polite conversation with people, and then you were face to face with your husband. You hardly even looked at him as you whispered “welcome home” before moving to Molly, silently proud of yourself for not fainting as you walked past him and smelled the irresistible scent that was so purely him.

The rest of the day passed with laughter, tears, happy memories as the sun started to set, Arthur arriving later than everyone else as he was called in to work earlier but managed to get tickets for the upcoming quidditch world cup as a reward, that Harry and Hermione were promptly invited too and the pure joy on his face made the whole night worth it. Slowly the guests started to leave as it approached night, Remus being the last to leave, wanting to have a drink with Sirius, finally having his old friend back. You had to practically drag Harry to bed after you’d said farewell to Remus. “But I’ve still got so much to talk about Aunt y/n, please just another hour” Harry argued with you at the bottom of the steps, Sirius watching you with a glass of whisky in his hand from the kitchen.

“Harry James Potter if you don’t get up those stairs in 5 seconds I’ll make sure you don’t go to the world cup, am I understood? You have all summer to talk so please listen to what I say.” Sirius smirked at your mum voice as Harry grumbled a goodnight before trudging up the stairs, his footsteps heavier than they needed to be. “I love you!” you shouted after him, smiling to yourself when he shouted it back as his bedroom door closed.

“You raised him well. James and Lily would be so proud of him and of you.” Sirius’s voice echoed around the living room where you stood. Trying not to dwell on his words you gave him a quick smile before continuing to tidy up and Sirius didn’t try to interrupt you again during that time, only silently watching. If only you knew that he was thinking just as you were, you’d probably fallen out of love with him, and couldn't stand to be near someone who had spent the last twelve years in Azkaban. He watched as you wished him goodnight, stumbling upstairs and closing the door, and soon he made his way upstairs and stepped into the main bedroom, expecting to see you in there but the bed was empty, no sign of your stuff in there. Frowning he walked out into the hallway and saw the spare bedroom light was on and seeing this only confirmed his suspicions that you didn’t want to be with him. Both adults, both unbeknown to each other, sat in their separate beds, lonely and sad, desperate for each other's company but too frightened to confront one another with the fear of being rejected.

This is how you spent the next month and a half, looking at each other when you thought the other wasn’t looking, only talking to one another if Harry was there, both of you then running to your rooms at night, fighting the urge to run into each other's arms. You could feel your dark thoughts running around your head, screaming at you daily, there wasn’t a second that passed when you were by yourself that you weren’t sobbing and it all came to a head the day the quidditch world cup came and the dark mark was blasted high into the sky and the campsite attacked. You felt like you were having a heart attack when you got the news, instantly apparating with Sirius to the Weasleys where Harry was waiting for you, having returned just before you arrived. After this, it started to feel like it did twelve years ago, Order meetings started up and you were faced with a lot of new and old faces, one being Severus. You’d never been friends whilst at school together but during the toughest times of your life, the weeks after Sirius had been arrested, he was one of the few to visit where he revealed his love for Lily. Since then you’d been in regular contact, particularly now Harry was at school and causing all types of trouble, you needed someone to keep a close eye on him which Severus has been able to assist you with.

The days ticked on and it all was becoming too much for you, the deep ache in your chest never becoming any easier, all you felt was pain and loneliness and that's when you started to relapse, using your wand to cut small scratches into your forearm, the blinding hot pain acting as a distraction for you. It was a habit you formed after your parents died and again when Sirius was arrested but looking after Harry and caring for him as a toddler soon snapped you out of it putting all of your soul and energy into looking after him but now he was older, he had all of his friends to look after him, therefore not relying on you as much. You always tried to heal the cuts after doing them but they always looked red and swollen and noticeable so you kept long-sleeved shirts on, even during the hottest of days.

After an exceptionally long meeting that was taking place in the cottage, rumours of the latest death eater movements were discussed, the sun had long since set as everyone started to leave. Picking up your glass to take it into the kitchen, Severus stepped up beside you, “walk me out, won’t you, Black?” Nodding, you motioned for him to step towards the front door, and you both walked in a comfortable silence up towards the gate but as you reached for the latch, Severus’ hand gripped your wrist, not painfully but your eyes snapped up to meet his with a questioning look.

He shuffled you both so his taller frame framed you from any eyes looking from within the house and he lifted your sleeve. You tried tugging your arm out of his grasp but he held you strong, eyes drifting over the small cuts that littered your arm, all vaguely fresh. Snape's eyes met yours briefly, hurt and sadness flashing in them for a second before he lifted his own wand and brushed along each one, muttering a spell you’d never heard of before. He did it slowly like he was trying to show you what to do as each of the cuts turned into thin lines of silver like they’d been done years before. Trying not to let the tears fall from your eyes, he did the last one, patting you on the shoulder and left. You didn’t move for a few moments, trying to keep your heart rate under control but if you’d looked up, you would have seen Sirius at the window, only being able to have seen Severus stood close to you, he couldn’t see what he was doing but anger and jealousy rippled through him, rushing to his room and silently cursing the day Snape was born.

The summer slowly turned to autumn as September 1st arrived, Sirius and you taking Harry to Kings Cross Station, you held him close, not wanting him to go back but from what Molly had been hinting, he would be having a fun year at Hogwarts. You and Sirius watched in silence as the train disappeared into the distance. You’d wondered what it would be like without the comfort of Harry being there, you both couldn’t go on living in silence, ignoring one another, you’d contemplated moving out, finding it increasingly more difficult to be around him, wanting to run up and hold him but the thought of him pushing you off stopped you immediately. But this cottage had been your home for most of your adult life, you didn’t have the guts to move out, not unless Sirius asked.

So here you were, eating your dinner across the table from Sirius in silence, that was until Sirius suddenly said, “I’ve heard the Triwizard Tournament is what Harry will be expecting this year.”

Surprise flashed across your face, “I’m surprised Dumbledore would allow that to happen this year considering all these dark events occurring but, I guess it will be a nice distraction for them all.” You both once again returned to eating in silence and as soon as you’d both set down your cutlery you picked up both plates and moved to wash up.

“You really don’t need to do that, it’ll take me two minutes to finish” Sirius commented from the table, looking at your hands as they washed up.

You shook your head, hardly concentrating on what you were doing, this being the most he had spoken to you since returning home. “No, it’s fine, I don’t mind doing it by hand- ow!” A searing pain sparked through your palm, glancing down the water started to turn red from the blood that was seeping from the cut that you’d accidentally given yourself from grasping a knife at the bottom of the sink.

Sirius’ chair squeaked behind you as he rushed to your side, hand reaching for your wrist “let me see”. You recoiled back at his touch, not from pain but from the warm spark his skin touching yours caused, not having felt that in so many years but to Sirius it looked like you flinched away from him and it was enough for him to finally snap. “Damn it y/n, would you please let me look at my wife's injury, are you really that disgusted in me that you won’t even let me look after a scratch?” You stood still, beyond shocked at his outburst, his words being the last thing you had expected him to say as you held out your hand, blood slowly dripping from your palm as he pulled out his wand and started to heal it, the magic-making your hand tingle.

As the cut was fully closed, you expected Sirius to drop your hand but he didn’t, instead just holding it in his own, staring down at the wedding ring that you never wanted to take off. “I’ve been patient with you, I know the last few years have been difficult for us all but I can’t live like this anymore y/n. All summer I’ve had everyone singing your praises, saying you never lost faith in me even after all these years, you knew I was innocent. So when I finally came home, having spent twelve long years dreaming of nothing more than being home to my wife and Harry, and at last being together in our little family, instead you tried to run and hide from me. I guess I should have seen it coming, that you would fall out of love with me, not want me anymore, and if you wish me to leave I will because I can’t keep doing this, I can’t keep living with you and not being your husband and having to watch you with the likes of Snape and doing house-elf chores, my wife shouldn’t be doing that.” You don’t know when your tears started to fall but you just watched Sirius, pain flashed across his face as he spoke. Releasing your hand he gripped your face in both of his large ones, thumbs lightly stroking across your cheeks to wipe your tears, he looked into your eyes with pain and longing, “I love you so much y/n, I always have and I always will. All I want to do is care for you, comfort in your darkest days, be the reasons there's a smile on your beautiful face, be the husband I should have been for the last twelve years but if you don’t want me here, if you don’t want to be my wife then please, just tell me, because this is killing me.”

You stared desperately into his grey eyes, tears starting to form in the corner of them, threatening to spill free to match your own. “Sirius'' his name came out no louder than a whisper as you struggled to think of what to say in response, internally cursing yourself for ever thinking he didn’t love you anymore, all this time you had wasted, the tears, depression, anxiety, and pain that you didn’t have to live through. Taking a deep shuddering breath in, you moved your hands up to hold onto his wrists. “Sirius Black I could never stop loving you, you’re my whole world aside from Harry. All this time, I never wanted to ignore you, Merlin, I’ve spent hours contemplating speaking to you but I was so afraid. Afraid that you wouldn’t want me anymore, you’ve been in Azkaban for so long, I couldn’t be sure that the feelings I held for you, you felt the same for me.” The lonely ache that you had become used to over the past few weeks started to ease in the pit of your stomach as Sirius’ shoulders relaxed slightly but a frown crossed over his face.

“But you’ve been sleeping in the guest bedroom, and the way you’ve been acting with Snape, I thought-” as he spoke your friend's name he spat it out with as much venom as possible, you refrained from rolling your eyes at him.

“I didn’t want to overstep by sharing a bed with you and with Severus, he's been… helping me with something.” Your eyes dropped down to the floor, not knowing how to explain yourself. “Do you remember when my parents were killed, during our last year at Hogwarts and I- I did something stupid.” You tried to think of the right words but you couldn’t, instead, you glanced up quicking at Sirius as he seemed to understand what you were referencing, his frown softening as he looked at you with even more sadness so instead of talking, you pulled down your sleeve. Sirius released his grasp on your face and held your arm.

“Oh darling, I knew you were hurting but this?” You bit your lip to hold in the sob that was building in your throat. Sirius' gaze left your arm and returned to your face, stroking your cheek.. “Let me just make sure I’m correct here when I say that we’ve both been wanting the same thing for all of these weeks?” You smiled lightly, nodding at him as his face started to relax, returning your smile. “Sometimes I think James was right when he said that I was the dumbest Marauder.” You laughed, the noise-like music to his ears as he pulled you close, his smell washing over you, finding the most comfort that you’ve had in years. “Why don’t we start again? We’ve been married for 15 years and I’ve been gone for twelve, we’re practically newly married still”, both of your grins widening as you didn’t dare blink, wanting to spend eternity looking at the joy on his face.

“I’d like that Sirius, I’m sorry for everyth-”

“No, please don’t apologise you’ve done nothing wrong, my love, let’s just take this slow. Starting with no more house chores.” He swiped his wand into the air and the washing up started to magically be completed. “No wife of mine is getting her hands dirty doing menial tasks, and if you want anything done then ask me, I want to take care of you so please, allow me that luxury.” You nodded in agreement as he added, “And please, move back into our room, I’m not saying anything has to happen, I’ll sleep on the floor if you want me to, I just want you close to me.”

You didn’t verbally answer, instead, you placed both hands onto the lapels of his jacket and stepped onto your tiptoes, planting the softest kiss to his lips that you could possibly do. His eyes slide shut, arms wrapping around your back as he leaned down to rest his forehead on top of yours. “Of course, I will do all of those things with you. I will forever be yours, Mr. Black and I’ll stay with you tonight, and the night after, and forevermore.”

Sirius' smile nearly reached ear to ear at your words, not being able to hold back anymore as he leaned down to kiss your lips passionately. His beard tickled your cheeks as your hands held onto his cheeks, feeling wet droplets hitting them and you were sure he felt the exact same as you both cried with joy. His lips felt like home, the feeling being one that made you feel safe, loving every single thing about this man and him feeling the exact same for you. Sirius leaned back, looking deeply into your eyes he reached up to take one of your hands, “well then Mrs. Black, I think it’s about time we both went to bed, don’t you agree? I don’t know about you but I’m ready to have the best night's sleep I’ve had in twelve years, what do you say?”

You took a step back towards the stairs, tugging on his hand so you both started walking in the direction of your bedroom. “I think that’s the best idea you’ve ever had, my love.” Turning, you pulled him up the stairs, Sirius waving his wand to turn the lights off as you stopped at the guest bedroom. “Go ahead, I’m just getting my nightdress, I promise I’ll be with you in a moment”. Sirius nodded, hand on hip he leaned down to place a delicate kiss on your forehead before moving onto the bedroom, the beating of your heart not slowing as you watched him walk away. Your hands shook with adrenaline as you changed, trying not to sprint to the bedroom.

As you entered, Sirius stood in the centre of the room, pillow in hand, eyes traveling down your body to see that your so-called nightdress was actually one of the muggle shirts that he’d purchased to piss off his parents as a teenager. You began to speak but cut yourself off, questioningly looking at the pillow in his hand. “I told you I didn’t want to overstep y/n, I’ll be just fine sleeping on the floor.”

You tried to hide your smile at his thoughts, slowly sauntering over. You took the pillow from his hands and threw it onto the bed. “No husband of mine is sleeping on the floor.” He sheepishly smiled down at you as you both moved towards the bed, one that you’d spent the last twelve years sleeping in on your own but now, it smelt only of him and you nearly cried out with joy as you both finally pulled the duvet back and climbed in. Instantly you placed your head on his chest, his warm arms wrapped around you, kissing the top of your head once more, the beating of his heart beneath your ear. “I love you, Sirius”.

“I love you too, I promise, I won’t ever leave your side again, thank you for always believing in me.” You both fell into the first peaceful sleep you’d experienced in years.

#sirius black imagine #sirius black x reader #sirius black #marauders x reader #the marauders #harry potter fanfic #sirius black fluff #mine*

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tired-teacher-blog · 3 years ago

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Title : The end?

Genre : fluff/ imagines

Characters : Aizawa/ fem reader/ featuring Present mic

Note : This is part 2 of "The end" so in case you haven't read part 1 please do so before reading this.

I'm posting this here today because it's my birthday, so it's a gift from me to me!

God I'm a loser

Part 1

Masterlist

AO3

"Did you really mean it?"

You wonder as you lay down on your bed covering your face with your hands.

It has been a couple of weeks since that awful day when you learned that Aizawa actually had no feelings for you. But something deep down refuses to believe it.

No one can be that good at faking their emotions. He has always been gentle and caring and treated you with nothing but love. Something isn't right, but how can you know for sure after what happened that day? You are afraid he might kick you out again or repeat those hurtful things if you ever decide to visit him.

***

It is hard getting used to his new life. A prosthetic instead of his leg, a lost eye, a barely functioning quirk, but that's nothing compared to not having you by his side.

"This is for the best. She deserves to have a full life, and I will only hold her back."

He mumbles to himself after gazing at your framed picture on his nightstand. As much as he tried to get rid of it, he simply couldn't.

***

You're debating whether or not you should visit him. The idea crosses your mind every minute of everyday, but you chicken out last minute and decide against it.

It is torture. Being apart from the one you love the most, hurts more than anything else.

***

_ "Are you really sure about this?" Yamada has never approved of his best friend's decision, and it's because he can clearly see what it's doing to the both of you.

_ "If you're gonna keep talking about it then you can just go home."

_ "Fine fine, it's your life. I'm just saying, this is unfair. Y/n asks about you everyday and begs me not to tell you because she's afraid you might get upset, but it's infuriating to sit back and watch my friends ruin their lives just because one of them is being a stubborn asshole." He finishes by pointing an accusing finger at the man in question.

And it's not that Aizawa doesn't know what his selfish decision might do to you, because he does. He knows you love him, and he knows you would never walk away from him, and that's precisely why he shut you off. He hates being a burden, and most of all to you.

But it gets harder each day that passes. How can he possibly carry on without you in his life?

He's getting ready to go back to work, and tomorrow is the date.

With his quirk practically gone, he will dedicate himself entirely to teaching the future heroes. And who knows? Maybe with time he'll even be able to get over you.. he can only wish.

***

You can't take it anymore. You need to see him, to talk to him. And this is exactly why you're standing at his front door.

You take a deep breath before knocking gently, and your tummy does flips when you hear a "Yes, I'm coming" from the other side of the door.

You miss that voice. You miss it asking you to take care of yourself, laughing at your stupid jokes, scolding you when you get hurt during a mission, and whispering a soft "I love you" to your ear every morning.

***

He opens the door half expecting it to be Yamada, since he's the only one who dares come unannounced. But there you are, the last person he expected to find on the other side. You look as beautiful as he remembers.

He is about to give in and pull you in his chest, but he catches himself last minute and asks:

_ "What are you doing here?" And it sounds a lot harsher than he intended. But maybe it's for the best.

However, his heart flutters when you stutter your wish to talk to him. You look vulnerable, scared even, and on the verge of tears. And he has to stop for a moment before answering you, so he can maintain his facade.

_ "Alright, come on in."

***

You walk into the home you once shared. Every part of this place holds a dear memory. All of a sudden, you think back to when he asked you to move in with him, and your vision starts to blur as tears rest on your eyelashes. And you are grateful he's not looking when you clumsily wipe them with your sleeves.

_ "Have a seat." Still cold, still talking like he doesn't want you there. So maybe it's true? Maybe he truly never loved you.

You clench your fists and try to stay calm.

_ "How have you been Shōt.. I mean mister Aizawa." You almost forgot, you are probably not allowed to call him by his first name anymore.

_ "I'm good, considering." He answers pointing at his eye and patting his new prosthetic limb.

_ "I miss you. I know you said you didn't want me anymore, but can't you tell me what I did wrong? I really don't get it. You said you never loved me but I can't believe you, I just can't."

He has to know how you feel. He has to know how much he hurt you.

Your tears finally betray you and you start sobbing.

You feel both shame and anguish, and you hide your face with your hands not wanting to meet his eyes.

And out of the blue, he places a hand on your head and pulls you close, and for some reason, this makes you cry harder.

***

There you are, resting your cheek in his chest while he's hugging you impossibly close to him.

Why did he do what he did? His stupid and selfish decision caused nothing but misery for both of you, and it needs to stop.

And this is when he finally gives in and clears up everything that kept you both awake for many nights.

***

You listen closely, with your head still pressed to him, while he explains that he doesn't want to "burden you" and that you deserve "someone better" and that he will only "hold you back" and blah blah blah until you can't take it anymore and push yourself up.

_ "Is this why you chose to destroy everything we had?! What gives you the right to decide something like that all by yourself?" You are fuming, "Do you really think that I would ever want to be with anyone if it's not you? I don't care if you lose an eye or a leg or whatever! You are still the same to me and that will never change! I love you, you jerk! I'm so mad at you but I love you and it's driving me nuts because I can't stay mad at you for long!"

He's smiling, why is he smiling when you're about to lose your marbles? You really wanna punch that smug grin off his face. But it suddenly disappears, and a pained look takes its place.

_ "I'm sorry sweetheart, I realize now how stupid and selfish I've been. But believe me, those last few weeks without you have been torture."

***

He's regretful, he's usually composed and never takes rush decisions, but that day he messed up, and the person he loves the most had to suffer.

_ "Is it too late to ask you to get back together?"

He sounds hesitant and expectant, hoping you would say "yes".

***

Does he really expect you to say anything other than "yes"? Your pout immediately turns into a big smile, and you hug him again heaving a sigh of relief.

_ "Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes!"

You sit back and look into his face, a blush tinting your cheeks. You want to kiss him, but you don't know how to ask, you never have to be honest. It's always been him who initiates intimacy, and your lack of experience is your biggest enemy right now.

***

He knows that shy look, he understands what it means, and he loves it. So he gently cups your cheeks and leans in for a deep kiss.

***

You relax into it, all your worries are finally melting away. Your man is back to you, kissing you, telling you he loves you, telling you he's sorry, and you believe him.

You moan into his mouth when he nibbles on your lower lip and pulls you completely on top of him.

You hesitate, breaking the kiss, worried about possibly irritating what's left of his injuries, but he pinnes you on top of him and smiles sweetly: "It's fine beautiful, I'm fine."

***

And he is truly fine now that you're with him. There is still things to talk about, that's for sure. And he will spend the rest of his life making it up to you -even if you tell him not to- because to him, that's not a burden, it's a pleasure.

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mie779 · 2 years ago

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The Billionaire "prank" joke

@captainodonoghue This is your secret Santa here. This story is all for you. (Going to post it all here too, as I can't remember if you're on AO3 or not?) As you know I picked the prompt you shared about the billionaire prank gift joke... These 8000+ words it the result of my muse running along with that prompt. It has been such a fun thing to work on here in December. I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Merry Christmas to you.

Read on FF.NET and AO3

HUGE shout out to @hookedmom for beta reading this for me. I'm amazed how you just powered through this long one-shot.

____________________________________________

READ THE STORY HERE TOO:

A/N: This story is my gift to @captainodonoghue who I had the privilege to be secret Santa for this year (over on Tumblr). She shared this list of prompts: https://captainodonoghue.tumblr.com/tagged/cs%20prompts and my brain started to pick on the “Billionaire ‘prank’ joke”: sending an invite to some rich guy in hopes he would have his secretary sending a gift regardless of how well he knows the bride/groom.

This evolved into this, I really hope it can live up to the prompt and that you like it.

I couldn’t have done this without the immense help of @hookedmom who beta-read this 8000+ word one-shot.

It’s been such a joy to be part of CSSS2022.

This evolved into this, I really hope it can live up to the prompt and that you like it.

I couldn’t have done this without the immense help of @hookedmom who beta-read this 8000+ word one-shot.

It’s been such a joy to be part of CSSS2022.

I hope everyone else will like the story too.

The Billionaire ‘Prank�� Joke.

A one-shot tale of how a cruel joke can backfire in all the right ways, not for the jokester (Neal), but for his fiance Emma Swan.

Being in a sour mood at your own rehearsal dinner wasn’t how Emma Swan imagined herself six months ago. When Neal Cassady swept her off her feet, he surprised the hell out of her when he dropped to one knee and asked the big question.

Emma looked around at the guests sitting at the table, her side of the party included her friends Ruby and Elsa. Everyone else was friends with Neal, which included his best man, Walsh. They were rowdy and obnoxious and it was only half an hour into the dinner. Why am I even here? She pondered, and rested her chin in her palm, her elbows pushed back her plate, she wasn’t hungry anymore.

When the door to the private lounge room in the rooftop restaurant at the Revere Hotel in Boston opened up, the servers collected the small appetizers from the table. Emma had forgotten what she’d eaten, all fancy schmancy, paid by Neal’s no-show father. As the servers were leaving and about to shut the door, a dark-haired man extended his hand to stop the door from closing. Emma gaped as she realized she might know him.

“Killian!” Emma exclaimed and slowly rose from her seat, the chatter around the table died down and everyone turned their focus on the one person Emma had never imagined she would ever see again.

“Hello, Emma.” Killian smiled, “so I hear you’re getting married?”

“Eh, yeah.” Emma glanced toward Neal who didn’t look too happy right now.

“Why are you here?” Neal rose to his feet and glared at Killian.

“Eh, mate, I'm invited to the wedding.” Killian scratched behind his ear, “but sadly I can’t be there tomorrow, so I thought I’d swing by with the gift.”

“I never saw you on the guest list.” Emma shook her head in confusion, she’d given up on keeping up with who Neal had wanted to invite, he was the groomzilla in this endeavor.

“My assistant informed me that an invitation was sent to me, requesting my attendance at the nuptials between Emma Swan and Neal Cassidy.” Killian shrugged, “the only Emma Swan I know is you.”

“You know Emma?” Neal stepped away from his chair, “how the fuck do you know my Emma?”

“Eh…” Killian glanced toward Emma.

“Neal,” Emma said sharply, she stepped in front of him before he could reach Killian, “I know Killian from my time at Storybrooke High School. Remember, I told you where I grew up.”

Neal grunted and pointed to Killian, “you mean to tell me that Boston’s richest billionaire went to some tiny high school out in the middle of nowhere?”

Emma blinked a few times, Billionaire? She glanced over her shoulder at Killian who still looked lost, albeit also sheepish at Neal’s revelations. She gave him a small smile; it has been ten years since she’d last seen the guy. Damn, he grew up fine. Shaking her head, she returned her focus to her fiance who still hadn’t explained himself, “How do you know Killian?”

“Eh, what?” Neal looked a little perplexed.

She jabbed his chest, ignoring the wince passing over his face, “I haven’t seen him since high school. We kinda lost track of each other once we all graduated.” She jabbed him again, “so clearly it’s you who invited him.”

“I…” Neal looked back at his three buddies, and Emma followed his gaze, all three men looked as if they tried to not collapse in a fit of laughter. Walsh was covering his face with a napkin trying to stop himself from laughing, while his other groomsmen Peter and Felix turned to one another giving a high five. The trio was Neal’s closest friends, or so he claimed when they moved back to Boston, all working in the same business as Neal.

“What the hell did you guys do?” Emma huffed and rolled her eyes as she crossed her arms over her chest. Neal’s eyes dropped to her chest, clearly leering at her plunging neckline.

“I… We…” Neal sighed and pointed at Killian, “he wasn’t even supposed to show up for god’s sake, it was just a stupid joke one of the guys had seen online.”

“What joke?” Emma demanded with a huff, not liking that her old friend had been the receiving end of one of Neal’s stupid schemes. The list was endless, she wondered why she even agreed to this loopy endeavor to get married. Oh, yeah, she kinda fell head over heels in love with the man, or at least she thought she did. Now she is regretting her choice. If they’d pulled this type of stupid joke what else could Neal be doing behind her back?

“It was something about when you have a wedding you should send a fake invitation to some rich snob billionaire, the guy’s secretary would just send off a gift to the wedding, and the guy wouldn’t even know.” Neal rambled on as he shifted nervously on his feet.

“What?” Emma couldn’t believe her ears, anger rose inside her, “why the hell would you do such a thing?”

“The guys thought it was a fun idea, so I sent the invite last weekend during the bachelor party.” Neal shrugged.

“I can’t believe you. You did this because ‘the guys thought it was fun’?.” Emma mimicked with a sneer and grabbed his wrist, “we need to talk.” She tugged on his arm and added, “now!”

Neal finally followed her and they walked towards the glass sliding doors that lead to an open terrasse area. Before she opened the door, she turned to Killian, and when she saw the disappointment on his face, her heart dropped. “Give me a minute with my soon-to-be ex-fiance, okay?” Killian gave her a weak smile and nodded in understanding.

Emma pushed a spluttering Neal outside, “what do you mean by ex-fiance?

“What does it sound like? The Wedding is off.” Emma let go of his arm and paced back and forth in front of a large fountain, sunken into the deck much like a small pool. “I’m out, this is the last straw.” She stated and stopped pacing.

“But the wedding is tomorrow!” The tone of his voice was almost a small whine.

“So, get your no-show father to pay, as you always do.” Emma couldn’t really care much about what he should do at this point.

“Leave my father out of this.” Neal combed his fingers through his hair, looking a little panicked, “oh god he is so going to kill me.”

“I don’t care.” Emma huffed, “I’m sick and tired of you always going behind my back with your petty little schemes. One day you’re going to land yourself in jail, and to top everything off you’re never home.” She waved her hand towards the private lounge Neal had wormed his way into for their wedding. “And now you go pull a stunt like that?” She began pacing again.

“Look, it was just a stupid joke.” Neal tried to explain.

“A joke.” Emma harrumphed, “a joke? It’s not a joke, it’s a scam as well as cruel and rude that is what it is.” She looked at the large windows and she imagined she could see the outline of Killian through the reflective glass. “I can’t believe you would think that this was fun, the guy clearly showed up.”

“Well, how was I supposed to know that you knew each other, he’s filthy rich. Why would he come to our white-trash wedding?”

Emma widened her eyes, “white-trash?” She felt angry again, “you think our life is white trash?” With narrow eyes she stalked towards him, “I’ll give you fucking white trash, buddy.” She jabbed his chest, “I worked frigging hard to get where I am today, never belittling what I accomplished in life.”

“You’re a bail bond person,” Neal answered with a smirk.

“What are you doing with your life?” Emma gave back, her hackles rising even more. In the years she’d known Neal it had been one endless list of pipe dreams. They moved from place to place, last year Tallahassee, now Boston with promises of him getting a job working for his father. “What is it you and the guys do for your father?”

“You wouldn’t understand.” Neal huffed out and stepped back, leaning against one of the large potted plants that stood near the fountain. Neal squinted his eyes, “How well do you know this guy?”

Old regrets surfaced beneath her current anger, regrets of never taking a leap of faith when she had the chance with Killian.

“We were friends, I was the runaway kid finally trying to settle down with my newly appointed foster family.” Emma’s heart broke remembering herself as the angry teenager showing up on Granny’s doorstep. It all ended well with her actually being able to stay there until she became an adult, and gaining a friend in Granny’s granddaughter Ruby.

“Just friends?” Neal glared at her.

“Why does it even matter to you, I was so young…” She ran a frustrated hand through her long blond hair, “... and utterly stupid.”

“So you liked him?”

“I don’t know,” Emma said and looked down shifting nervously on her feet.

“Well, I’d like to know my competition, that’s all,” Neal stated as he pushed away from the large potted plant. He moved to stand with his back to the fountain, directly in front of Emma. “Come now Ems, we have something special here don’t we?” He reached out and cupped her cheek.

Emma flinched at his touch, “we have nothing, not anymore.” She whispered and took a deep breath before she finally looked him in the eyes. “I can’t do this, I’m sorry.” She tried to push his hand away from her, but he stepped closer and placed both hands on her shoulders.

“You don’t mean that baby, we’re special together. Remember all the fun we had in Tallahassee?”

Emma tensed under his touch, “you had fun.” She bit out and glared at him, “you had the world of fun, doing god knows what down there.”

“We lived on the beach, the sun and surf life, what’s not to like about that, eh?”

“Like you were ever there.” Emma mumbled, then added, “I have no idea what you did every night. Was it part of your father’s schemes too?”

“Leave my fucking father out of this, woman.”

“Well, he seems to control your life.” She winced when his fingers dug into her arms, she shifted her body so she slipped out of his grip.

“I can’t fucking believe you, the wedding is tomorrow, we can’t just skip out of all this.” He waved his hand towards the restaurant, “it cost a fortune, including the wedding suite I booked for tomorrow night.” Emma cringed at the mention of the wedding night.

“I never asked for this place when you started planning this wedding.” Emma argued, “I’d have been happy to have the wedding in Granny’s backyard.”

“That is out in the middle of nowhere.” Neal sighed and flapped his arms in resignation.

“So! It’s my home.” She crossed her arms over her chest, noticing how his eyes again drifted below her neckline. “Stop that!”

“What?”

“Ogling me like some creep.” Emma stepped back from him but he followed her and grabbed her shoulders again.

“Get your hands off of me.” Emma shifted her shoulders again but this time she didn’t get him off her.

“You’re mine, Ems, come on we’re going to have the best life together,” Neal said in a pleading voice, one she’d heard one time too many by now.

“No!” Emma tried to step back and she could feel anger and a pinch of fear bloom up inside of her. “I will not marry you, don’t you get it?” She twisted her body again, but she only felt his fingers dig into her muscles even more. “Let me go, you’re hurting me.”

“Emma.”

“The lady asked you to let her go.” Killian’s voice sounded from behind her, surprising both Neal and herself.

“Buzz off.” Neal grumbled, “this is none of your business.”

“I believe it is,” Killian said, now much closer and when Emma turned her head, she realized he was standing next to her, his eyes blazing with fury as he eyed Neal. “Now let her go.”

“I’m her fucking fiance, leave us alone so we can talk in private.” Neal barked out and sneered.

“Ex-fiance,” Emma yelled and winced when Neal’s fingers clenched around her arm. “Let go of me, you bastard.”

“Ems.” Neal tried again.

“I’m not you’re anything, got it? Now let me go.” Emma could feel angry tears form in her eyes and she blinked not wanting Neal to have control over her emotions, never again.

Suddenly everything moved really fast like lightning. Before Emma was able to blink again, the hold on her arms was lifted as Killian grabbed Neal’s shirt and pulled him away from her, causing her to stumble back. “The lady asked nicely, and only a lowlife wanker will ever harm the woman he claims he cares about.”

“That is none of your business.” Neal pushed away from Killian, “now leave this place or I’ll have you thrown out.”

“You invited me,” Killian said, stepping closer to Neal, forcing Neal to take another step back.

“It was a joke.” Neal scoffed and lifted his head a little, “you were supposed to have your secretary send a gift and you would never show up.”

“Well, it’s my luck that I actually know the bride…” Killian cleared his throat and with a smirk changed, “I’m sorry, I don’t think there will be a bride tomorrow.” He made a mock salute, “Now if you’ll excuse me I’ll escort the lovely Miss Swan back inside.”

“No, that’s not how this works. This is my party. You will leave us alone, that is what you’ll do…”

Neal moved towards Killian the moment he turned around to face Emma, this caused the two men to bump into one another causing Neal to stumble backward. Emma’s eyes widened as she watched in slow motion as Neal flailed his arms desperately in the air, trying to catch his balance but it was to no avail. Milliseconds later, a large splash was heard, Neal now sitting at the bottom of the fountain, soaking wet and furious.

“You fucking bastard!” Neal screeched. He stumbled to get up from the pool but slipped back into the water again, this time almost head first. “I’ll… fucking ruin your life for this!” He splashed his hand in the water making him look like a perturbed five-year-old child.

“Shall we?” Killian interrupted and stood in front of Emma.

“Hmm?”

“Go inside?” He flipped his thumb over his shoulder towards the lounge room.

Emma glanced over her shoulder to Neal who was still struggling to get out of the water, “Sure, let’s go.” She hurried after Killian, ignoring the string of curses that Neal spewed from his mouth.

“Emma!” Neal spluttered, “Wait up?”

As Killian slid open the glass door and waited for Emma to enter, she gave him a small smile, then called over her shoulder, “forget it. The wedding is off.”

“I’ll ruin your fucking life…” Neal repeated, the rest of Neal’s words muffled when the door closed behind her. Emma scanned the room and realized that everyone inside paid no attention to the scene that occurred outside and simply continued to enjoy the dinner that was served. When her two friends looked up Emma could see their confusion.

“Could you please wait one second?” Emma asked Killian and nodded towards Ruby and Elsa, “I need to speak with my friends.”

“Sure thing.” Killian gave her a smile and sauntered over to the door.

“What’ up?” Ruby asked, swiping a fingerling potato through the thin sauce that circled the meal. Ruby popped the bite of fine cuisine into her mouth and chewed with a low moan, “This food is so frigging delicious.”

“Yeah, enjoy it, there won’t be a repeat tomorrow.” Emma stood beside her friends, her hand grasping the backrest of the chair she’d occupied before Killian came.

“Why?” Elsa placed her utensils on her plate in surprise, her large clear blue eyes blinked in confusion. Then she looked out of the window, “did you and Neal have a fight?”

Emma followed her gaze and saw that Neal had finally managed to get out of the fountain and some hotel staff had come to his aid with towels.

“Yeah, the wedding is off.” Emma mumbled and glanced towards the other end of the table where Neal’s so-called buddies were watching her conversation. “Sorry guys, but the party won’t happen.”

“Why?” Walsh asked looking between Emma and Neal who was still drying off outside, “look Emma it was just a joke, really.” He shrugged as if this wasn’t such a big deal.

“Don’t you Emma me.” Emma seethed and glared at Neal’s creepiest friend. Ever since she first met Walsh she always sensed he was a slick and shoddy guy. He always gave her leery looks and made inappropriate comments, the two others, Felix and Peter weren't any better. She knew all three guys also worked for Neal’s father.

“Come on Emma, it was a frigging funny joke.” Peter chuckled and nudged Felix’s shoulder, both men chuckled again.

“It was not funny, and it made me realize what a sleazeball Neal really is. The wedding is canceled, so finish your meal and enjoy the free drinks, there won’t be any tomorrow.” Emma looked at her two friends, “I’m sorry guys if you’d rather skip out now, you can just come with me and Killian.” She nodded to the three men, “the three stooges over there can entertain themselves.”

“The food is soooo good.” Ruby moaned and licked at her fork obscenely, then she pointed the utensil to the three men, “but the company is a bit of a drag.”

All three men glared at Emma’s open-mouthed friend, making Emma laugh, “I’m sure we can find food for you somewhere else.”

“What do you say, Els?” Ruby looked at their white-blond-haired friend.

“I’m out.” Elsa found her purse and found her phone, she glanced at the screen, “Anna is asking if I’m coming to the Rabbit Hole after I’m done here.” She looked at Ruby and Emma, “wanna join me?”

“Oh, I’m all for a drink.” Ruby exclaimed and looked at Emma with a raised eyebrow, “you can bring…” She leaned closer and whispered, “hot-and-handsome over there.”

“Shut up,” Emma whispered back and glanced at Killian who tried to look as if he hadn’t heard Ruby’s comment, but even from afar, Emma could see the tips of his ears going red. “I think I’ll make it a raincheck, I’m not in a party mood tonight.”

“We understand.” Elsa said in a soothing voice and as she passed Emma she squeezed her shoulder, “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Thank you.”

“I want details in our group chat,” Ruby said with a chuckle.

“There won’t be any details,” Emma grumbled.

“Oh, I’m sure there will be something.” Ruby waggled her eyebrows, “I remember how you pined for the bloke in your senior year.”

“Will you just shut up!” Emma hissed and glared at her friend, Killian didn’t need to hear those details, but Emma already knew that he might have heard some small bits of what Ruby had said.

“Hmm,” Ruby patted Emma’s arm, “details girl, details.” Then both her friends walked out of the room and Emma heard Ruby loudly whisper to Killian, “you show our girl a good time, okay?”

Killian pursed his lips as if he did not know how to answer that. When his eyes landed on Emma, she gave him an apologetic shrug of her shoulders, “I’m sorry about her.” She walked to him and asked, “wanna get out of here?”

“Aye.” Killian looked to the patio, “It seems as if your ex-fiance is coming inside.”

“Come.” Emma urged and slipped the two of them out of the door; she had no desire to speak with Neal anymore, ever.

Killian followed her through the restaurant to the elevator that would bring them to the ground floor. She realized he was carrying the present, “I’m sorry you went through the trouble to buy the gift for nothing.”

“Oh this, I have no idea what’s in it.” Killian laughed, and when Emma looked at him in surprise, “One of my assistants William Smee or Annabelle Tink did all the work. Told them to find the gaudiest and most expensive sauce pot they could find.”

“You’re joking right?” Emma narrowed her eyes at him, “you mean to tell me you went to all the trouble of coming here today to give me a freaking sauce pot?”

Killian doubled over with laughter, and gave her a wink, “what if I did?”

“I’d say you never changed.” Emma smiled fondly at him, realizing she hadn’t seen this man in 10 years. So many things had happened in both of their lives, it seemed life had treated him well.

“I’ll let you take a peek and see if you want to keep it.” Killian smirked and motioned to the elevator, “Let’s get away from here.”

Emma followed him to the elevator, and they rode down in silence, she suddenly did not know what to say, this evening had turned out differently than planned.

When they walked out into the large foyer, a hotel employee approached them, “Ah Miss Swan I need a moment of your time, please.” The young woman said with a pleading look as she twisted her hands in front of her.

“Okay?” Emma slowly followed the woman to the reception desk and moved to a more secluded section with fewer people around them. “Is there a problem?” She shifted nervously on her feet.

“It has come to my attention that the Cassidy-Swan wedding has been canceled tomorrow?” The receptionist said in a strained voice, as she pursed her lips, tapping her pen impatiently on the desk.

“Oh, yeah… How do you know this already?” Emma asked scanning the lobby to see if Neal had come down here.

“Our staff at the rooftop restaurant called down, they spoke with Mr. Cassidy.” The woman lifted a manicured eyebrow as if she waited for something.

“Oh…” Emma combed her hand through her hair, “yes the wedding won’t take place tomorrow. I’m truly sorry about all of the preparations you already did on this and…”

“Mr. Cassidy has informed us that the bill was to be paid by the bride… eh you, Miss Swan.”

“Seriously?” Emma exclaimed and slammed her hand on the polished surface of the reception desk, “Unbelievable! How dare he try to pull something like this.” Emma took a few deep breaths as she tried to calm herself down, but the blood rushed in her ears making it hard to focus on anything. “I’m sorry but that won’t happen.”

“Well, the money will have to be paid.” The receptionist shuffled around some papers, “the contract states that if the event is canceled less than 24 hours before it begins, the payment is at the 100% rate.”

“Shit.” Emma slumped over her clenched hands, her whole body vibrating with anger, how the hell did Neal expect her to pay for this elaborate wedding?

“Send the bill to my office.” Killian’s voice sounded nearby and when Emma looked up she saw him give the receptionist a business card.

“Oh, I’m not sure…” The woman stammered.

“No Killian…” Emma interrupted turning her focus on her old friend, “I can’t ask you to do this.” She tried to snatch the card from the woman’s hand but Killian grabbed her wrist and stepped closer.

“Listen, love, I’m not doing this out of pity, I just don’t want my friend to be saddled with a bill she was never supposed to pay in the first place.” Killian gave her a soft smile.

Emma tried to come up with reasons why this should not happen, “Neal’s an ass, and I’m sorry but he can pay his own bill.”

“You signed the contract, Miss Swan.” The receptionist piped up, and when Emma whirled around and glared at her, she had the grace to look sheepish, “I’m sorry Miss, but the signature on the contract is yours, is it not?” She pulled out a sheet of paper that Emma had seen a month ago when Neal had asked her to go to the hotel to sort out the last details with the hotel, including the contract.

“Yeah, that sneaky bastard.” Emma pursed her lips, she knew Neal could slink away from his part of this whole deal, it was only her name on the contract.

“Again, please send the bill to my office.” Killian said firmly and tapped the reception desk, then looked at Emma, “don’t argue about this love, let me help you and we can get out of here. Then you won’t have to think about this anymore.”

“But this place wasn’t exactly cheap.” She glanced at the receptionist, “sorry.” Biting her lips she looked at Killian again, “it’s a lot of money to be between us, it will take me a long time to pay it back.” She never liked when money became an issue. Growing up in the system, she rarely had anything for herself, and once she became an adult every penny was saved to make ends meet.

“Don’t worry about it.” Killian scratched behind his ear, and looked down sheepishly as he explained with a shrug, “I’m not missing out on paying for this.”

Emma blinked at him, then she realized Neal had revealed that Killian was one of the richest men in Boston, “Oh, yeah…” She hugged herself and pursed her lips, “well I still don’t like it.”

Killian gave the woman behind the desk a small smile then bid her farewell, then he turned to Emma, “shall we?” He tugged the large gift under his arm and then offered his other arm for her to take.

“Yeah.” Emma glanced one last time at the woman, who waved her off reassuring her that things were sorted out.

Emma followed Killian out of the hotel, and Killian passed on a card to a valet standing by, the young man hurrying off to the parking facilities.

“So where are we going?” Emma asked, suddenly a little on edge, she was still trying to fully understand that Killian somehow had entered her life again.

“How do you feel about sailing?” Killian asked and tugged his hand into his coat pocket.

“Eh, I’m okay with that, I guess.” Emma shrugged, “do you have a boat?”

“Aye, but it might be more of a yacht I imagine.” He smirked and tried to wink, but he failed, it seemed his inability to wink hadn’t changed.

“A yacht?”

“The Jolly Roger.” He grinned proudly.

“So now you’re a pirate?” Emma laughed, shaking her head in disbelief at how easy it was to speak with him.

“Ah, don’t you remember how much I loved the Peter Pan and Captain Hook stories?” He stepped closer and caught her eyes.

“It’s been so long.” Emma breathed out, trying not to focus on how his blue eyes became darker, even though it was still daylight.

“Aye, far too long.” He scratched behind his ear, “what happened to us?”

Emma was about to answer when a black sleek muscle car pulled up in front of the hotel. The valet guy jumped out and threw the keys to Killian before he walked inside again.

“That is your car?” Emma asked and walked to the car and looked at the polished black vehicle.

“Aye, a 1970 Chevrolet Chevelle Super Sport.” The pride in his voice had Emma smile, he opened the passenger door and motioned for Emma to get in, “it was my first purchase after taking over Jones’ Shipping with my brother.”

Emma slid into the soft leather seat and looked up at him, “oh you run a business with your brother?” She realized she had no idea what he did for a living.

Killian nodded, jogged to the driver’s side, and got in, then pulled out his phone and made a quick phone call. “Aye, Cap, can you have the Jolly up and ready in 20 minutes?... Fabulous.” Killian hung up and gave a small shrug, “I might sail the thing by myself from time to time, but I’d like to spend my time with you onboard.”

Emma nodded in understanding, while her mind whirled with the fact that Killian seemed to have staff on call aboard his yacht, it was a bit mind-blowing.

As the engine roared to life Emma shifted in her seat so she could look at him. “Tell me about your brother?”

Killian spent the drive to the marina telling Emma about how he and his brother began working for a man named Nemo, who ran a shipping company. Both brothers had a knack for the industry and when Nemo was planning on selling off the majority of the company, the brothers jumped in and bought it. They rebranded the company, and now Jones’ Shipping was a booming success.

“Seems as if you’re doing pretty well for yourself,” Emma remarked.

“Aye,” Killian scratched behind his ear and shrugged, “Jones’ Shipping is the largest shipping company on the east coast.”

“Wow.” Emma breathed out, “you really have done a lot in your life.” She looked down at her folded hands in her lap.

“I bet you have, too.” He drove his car into a well-lit parking area close to the docks.

“No, not really,” Emma mumbled with a small shrug.

“You’re a bail bonds person?”

“Yeah, it was a struggle to find my footing in the business.” She glanced at him, giving him a wry smile, “but things have improved in the past few months. I’m catching more and more skips.”

“So you’re good at finding people?” Killian chuckled and parked his car.

“I guess.”

“That can come in handy.” He unbuckled his seat belt and turned to her, “look whatever you did in life doesn’t change who you are as a person.”

“Who am I?”

“A beautiful woman I sadly lost contact with.” He reached out to grab her fidgeting hands, “we were friends.”

“Yes, we were friends.” Emma agreed with a sigh, “I’m sorry we never kept in touch. I guess life just happened.” She shrugged and gave him a small smile.

“Aye, but I’m actually happy that your ex-fiance sent that invitation.” Killian gave her a rueful smile, “if not, I’d never have been there to save you from that bastard.” He frowned and squeezed her hands.

“He was an asshole for sure.” Emma shook her head, “I don’t know how I could have been so stupid to fall for all his empty promises. He used me.”

“I’m sorry you got involved with a character like him.”

“Hmm.” Emma gave him a weak smile, “thank you.”

“Any time, love.” He let go of her hands and pointed to the line of yachts lined up nearby, “let’s have a bit of fun shall we?” He waved his hand in the air, “forget about the past and what we could or couldn’t have done.”

“Seize the moment sort of thing?” She unbuckled her seatbelt, “I like the sound of that.”

They both got out of the car and as they walked down the dock Emma noticed Killian began walking closer and closer to her. She reached out and grabbed his hand, letting him know she didn’t mind him being so close.

“Behold my humble vessel.” Killian proclaimed as they reached the end of the pier.

Emma gaped in surprise as her eyes swept over one of the largest yachts she’d ever seen lying moored before them. “Humble?” She asked incredulously and glared at him with a mock frown, “that is a bit more than a humble vessel, buddy.” Nudging his shoulder playfully she chuckled, “you always were one to understate your accomplishments.”

Killian grinned sheepishly at her and nodded in agreement, “perhaps, but I don’t want to appear to be a pompous asshole.”

“I’m sure you won’t.” Emma soothed and tugged him towards the yacht, “I’m proud of how far you and your brother have come in life.”

Killian gave her a small smile before he motioned for her to proceed with him up the gangplank.

Emma took it all in as they boarded, it oozed wealth as she’d never seen before, but she also knew that the man walking behind her wasn’t a pompous asshole, as he stated.

A man dressed in a casual blazer and a captain’s hat greeted them, “Welcome Miss.” He bowed his head to Emma, and turned to his boss, “give me five more minutes to navigate out of the harbor and I’ll have her sailing into the horizon.”

“Thank you, Cap, I’ll just give Miss Swan here a tour,” Killian said and pressed his hand on the small of her back urging her to walk to the front of the yacht. Then Emma was guided around the yacht as she took it all in with an awed expression. It was a truly magnificent ship, and it was clear that Killian knew what he was talking about. As they returned to the front deck she asked, “So you sailed a lot in the past?”

“Aye, after we moved from Storybrooke we both took a liking to the nautical life; I guess that is how our business adventure started.” Killian shrugged and moved to the yacht’s bow. He looked so at ease out here, relaxed as he’d been in their days at Storybrooke High.

“It was a fun time back then.” Emma mused and walked up to him, glancing at his profile against the sky, now turning golden orange from the setting sun.

“It certainly was.” Killian looked behind them and waved up to the captain’s deck. Soon Emma could hear the engine starting below them.

“I’m sorry that we lost touch.” Emma mused and leaned against the railing, hugging herself. She only wore a thin sweater, and the wind picked up as they set out off the harbor.

“That’s quite alright, but let’s not get stuck in a line of what ifs.” Killian admonished gently, he lifted one bench cushion and pulled out a blanket from the little storage area inside. “Here, this will keep you warm.” He glanced behind him, “unless you want to go inside?”

“No, It is nice out here.” She took the blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders, she looked up at him and realized he was standing really close to her now.

Killian looked at her with his cerulean blue eyes, eyes that had haunted her fickle teenage dreams. She never fully admitted to either him or herself that she might have been a bit in love with the guy when they stumbled through high school together.

As his eyes shifted to her lips, she imagined what it might be if he kissed her right there. Tentatively, she licked her lower lip and when his eyes dilated, she knew he might have been thinking the same thing.

“I’m glad I found you again, Emma.” He took a small step closer, keeping his eyes on her as if to assess how she felt about his close proximity.

“Me too.” She said as she looked up at the sky, turning more purple by the minute with clouds painted golden by the sun. “God, I could have made the worst mistake of my life tomorrow.” She shivered despite her now being warm and comfortable under the blanket.

“Neal Cassidy is an asshole who had no idea what treasure he had in his life.” Killian stepped closer and cupped her face with his hand.

“Thank you.” She lifted her head and gazed into his eyes.

“Anytime, love.” He whispered with a smile.

She was contemplating how he would react if she closed the gap between them and kissed him, but suddenly her stomach made a growling noise that made her face heat in shame.

“Are you hungry?” He lifted an eyebrow and smirked.

“Yeah, I kinda missed out on dinner, as you know.” She pursed her lips.

“Wait here.” He stepped back and walked backward, “I’ll find us something to eat.”

Killian disappeared inside so she took the moment of solitude to collect her thoughts; she was onboard a luxury yacht owned by a man she hadn’t seen in 10 years. Her heart shouldn’t react so quickly and this strongly to being reunited with him, should it? All she knew right now was that she enjoyed being with him, and she hoped he wanted to rekindle their old friendship. Perhaps even move it to another level, she closed her eyes as she recalled how amazing it felt being close to him.

She did not know how long it took before Killian returned to the deck, carrying a tray with fruit and a few sandwiches.

“Wow, you did all this in such a short time?” Emma asked in amazement

“Nah, the chef usually stocks up on snacks and the like before he heads home.” Killian shrugged and placed the tray on the table out on the deck.

“There’s a cook on this boat too?” Emma shook her head and took a seat.

“Not around the clock. But my brother and I use this yacht often, so it’s nice to know that we have food onboard” Killian explained and walked back inside, “let me find something to drink.”

When he came out with a bottle of champagne Emma had to pinch herself again, this was so unreal, perhaps he noticed her confused look as he asked, “you don’t drink champagne?”

“Oh, well, you see it’s not like that is something I’m usually able to drink on my paycheck.” Emma mused with a smirk.

“Aye, I see, I can go find a soda or something.” He was about to rise from his seat but Emma placed her hand on his arm.

“I’m sorry that came out all wrong, I’m just not used to this life.”

“What life?”

“The high-class glamorous life, going yachting in the moonlight, drinking champagne kinda life.” Emma tried to explain hoping he would understand that certain aspects of his life would be different from hers.

“I understand, and I guess I’ve become far too used to this life, eh?”

“Perhaps, but I’m pretty sure that under all that rich pirate swagger there’s still the Killian I knew ten years ago.” She tilted her head as she looked at him, it was clear that he’d become older, the lines around his eyes a bit more prominent, but his dark hair still fell in floppy waves over his forehead.

“Aye, he’s still here.” Killian grinned, “now if you don’t mind, I’d like to propose a toast.” He uncorked the champagne and poured the bubbly drink into two tall flutes.

Emma took the offered drink with a small smile, “a toast?”

“To new beginnings and old friendships that were never truly lost.” He lifted his glass to hers and they clinked their flutes together.

“I’ll drink to that.” Emma took a sip of the golden drink and felt the bubbles play over her tongue, she may never have really tasted fine champagne before, but that didn’t really matter as much as Killian now becoming a part of her life.

“I really would like to keep in touch.” Killian set his flute down on the table and reached for the plate of sandwiches and offered her one.

“I think that can be arranged.” Emma took a sandwich and looked down, “I hope perhaps we can do more than just keep in touch?”

“Oh?”

“I don’t want to lose you again.” She mumbled and picked up her food and took a bite, not daring to look him in the eyes. Feeling how her face flamed in heat, she hoped he wouldn’t notice how flustered she was right now.

“You won’t.” He paused then added, “Emma, look at me.” She pursed her lips and placed her food on the plate and finally found his eyes. His face split into a smile, “we might have been really young and foolish ten years ago, but I realize I was daft and completely bonkers to have missed the chance to…” He took a deep breath, “... to finally show you how much you mean to me.”

“Oh.” Emma gaped at him in surprise, not completely sure what he was saying, “what…?” She gulped down, not daring to hope he felt the same.

“Emma, don’t you know how much I pined for you back then?”

“What?” Emma grabbed her champagne and took a long drink of the bubbly champagne, half wishing it had been a stiff drink. When she finally looked at him again, she could see the intensity in his eyes.

“I was utterly daft to have let you go back then.” He rubbed at his face with both hands and reached one towards her.

“You fancied me?” Emma asked and placed her hand in his.

“Aye, I did.”

“Wow, that is…”

“I know.” He grinned, and tilted his head, “but you’re here, now.”

“Yeah, but I’m here now.” Emma smiled, “I was stupid too, you know.”

“Oh, why?”

“I might have pined for you, too.” Her eyes found his and she could see how happy her words made him.

“Is that a fact, love?” He tilted his head with a knowing smirk, his fingers wrapped around hers, lifting her hand to his lips and placing a tender kiss on the back of her hand.

Emma nodded as she felt a shiver run through her when his warm lips touched her skin.

“So does this mean I can ask you out on a date?” His thumb rubbed over her knuckles.

“I think that can be arranged.” Emma smiled, feeling giddy with how this night had progressed.

“Well, one could consider this a first date.” He lifted his eyebrow with a smirk.

“I guess,” She looked around, “you certainly have set the bar high on what you might want to do for our second date, then.”

Killian laughed and shook his head, “Oh love you have just seen the tip of the iceberg.” He let his hand slip from hers and motioned for the food, “let’s eat.”

Emma nodded, she was still feeling hungry, and the sandwiches were amazing. They settled into a companionable silence while they enjoyed the meal. As they finished the meal they began talking about life and what could happen in the future. Never had Emma felt so relaxed being on a date, but the difference this time might be that this was her friend, the guy who stole her heart ten years ago.

After they cleaned up Emma looked out at the horizon all around them. The night had settled over them and they were a couple of miles away from shore. The Boston city lights faded from view, making the twinkling stars above them very visible. It was truly amazing and very romantic. Her eyes landed on the large gift Killian had placed on one of the nearby benches.

“Wanna see what’s inside?” Killian interrupted her musing, clearly noticing what she was looking at.

“Hmm.”

Killian reached for the gift and Emma cleared a space on the table for him to place the box.

“Go on, open it.”

Emma peeled the expensive wrapping off the gift intended to be her wedding gift. It was a Tiffany hot cocoa gift set. The two mugs were in a pale mint color, including some top-brand cocoa powder and small mini marshmallows; she also spotted two long gilded teaspoons.

“Wow, this looks awesome.” Emma breathed out.

“So you want to keep it?”

Emma looked at him with a smile, “hell yeah, you know how much I love hot cocoa.”

“I do, and when I saw the invite and asked my assistant to find a gift, I asked her to find something like this,” Killian said.

“I thought it was a gaudy sauce pot.” Emma smirked, fingering the boxed gift set.

“Well, that was a joke, love.” Killian chuckled, “I would never buy a sauce pot for a woman who never cooks.” He tried to give her a wink, but as usual, he failed.

“I cook.” Emma pouted with a shake of her head.

“Toasting a Pop Tart for breakfast is not cooking.” Killian laughed, his eyes twinkling with his usual humor and charm.

“Shut up.”

“So you like it?” Killian asked and nodded to the gift, when Emma nodded in agreement he added. “When Annabelle Tink showed it to me I know you’d like it.”

“Well, I’ll have to thank her someday.” Emma smiled, her fingers tracing over the edge of the gift box. Then she looked at him, “and thank you Killian this was such a sweet and thoughtful gift.”

“I just never imagined that I would be sharing the gift with you,” Killian said with a rueful smile.

“Well, Neal actually hated hot cocoa, so I would have been enjoying this alone if…” Her voice trailed off, feeling a pang of sadness that her life had suddenly shifted upside down.

“Are you okay, love?”

“Yeah, I’m just trying to move past the fact that I won’t be married tomorrow.” She shook her head, “don’t get me wrong, I’m happy that I’m not marrying Neal.” She shrugged, “I guess it’s just that childhood dream of getting married I’m sad to see not happening.” Waving her hand dismissively in the air she added, “well that is all in the past, right?”

“Right.” Killian tilted his head to the side, “but don’t lose the dream of ever getting married.” With a lifted eyebrow he reached for her hand still resting over the gift, “one day it will happen.”

“Are you sure?”

“Aye, I’m very sure, if I have a thing or two to say about the matter, I’d say you will be married one day.” He gave her a pointed stare as he waggled his eyebrows.

“Oh.” Emma felt her face heat up when she realized what he was truly implying, he wanted to marry her one day.

He leaned forward and caught her eyes, “I want to get to know you again, Emma, and I’m certain that our lives won’t part ways, ever again.”

“I’d like that very much.” Emma breathed out and tried to calm her beating heart down. She shifted nervously in her seat, feeling a little restless,

“Let’s go to the bow so we can better see the stars.” Killian offered her his hand, and she rose to her feet. She followed him to the front of the yacht and she tucked herself closer to him, grabbing his hand as they stood at the railing watching the dark sky sprinkled with millions of stars. They could even see the milky way out toward the horizon.

“It’s amazing how many stars you can see out here.” Emma breathed out in wonder, her head tilted back as she took in the scenery above them. “They are so beautiful.”

“Aye, beautiful,” Killian whispered beside her, he was so close that his breath brushed over her cheek.

Emma turned her gaze to him and realized he wasn’t watching the stars, his eyes were fixed on her. “Hi.” She whispered, not sure why her whole body suddenly felt so warm, she still had the blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

“Hi, there.” He reached up with his free hand and cupped her cheek, “why did I never pluck up the courage to tell you that you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met?”

“Eh.” She grinned at him, “might be the same reason I never told you how handsome you were, still are.”

“Beautiful like a swan.” He smiled back and rubbed over her cheekbone with his thumb.

“Charmer.” She chided with a mock frown, while her insides did all sorts of swoops and twists trying to find her equilibrium again.

“Always.” He leaned closer, and she copied his movement so their lips could meet in a sweet and tender kiss. The desire washing through her body when his lips moved over hers was like nothing she’d ever experienced.

Killian weaved his fingers into her hair tilting her head to deepen the kiss, and Emma gladly opened for his probing tongue. She moved her hand behind his head combing her fingers through his soft hair, holding him close.

When they both needed air, they pulled apart, pressing their foreheads together huge smiles on both their faces.

“That was…” Killian breathed out.

“Definitely not a one-time thing.” Emma finished for him with a chuckle, “I can’t believe this is happening.” Her voice nearly broke at the end, her emotions running all over the place.

“The best thing that ever happened was that invite landed in my inbox,” Killian mumbled, shaking his head in wonder. “I want forever with you.”

Emma’s eyes widened at his statement, she felt the same, but it was so much bigger hearing him speak the words. She felt tears prickling in her eyes, and she gave him a watery smile, “I want that, too.”

Killian swept in with another toe-curling and passionate kiss that sent her shooting for the stars above, and she was fairly certain that her life from now on would be with Killian. It didn’t matter how they had reconnected, she didn’t want to dwell on her past, for now, she would focus on her future. A future with the man who stole her heart ten years ago and finally had come back into her life. Finally, she had found love, true love.

THE END

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catofthecanals289 · 3 years ago

Note

Drabble idea:

Was thinking about GP’s recent interview, where he says day of the Abu Dhabi race was the first time that season he could see max visibly tense/stressed

Maybe he offers to get Kelly (knows not to bring up j**) and max gets more stressed and says no, and somehow he thinks to get daniel

I don’t think max asks explicitly but for some reason gp knows, maybe this happened once before when they were both at RBR, GP has never brought it up again and it really is the only time max and daniel…

Not fully fleshed out and idk what happens when daniel gets there but something I think your genius brain could properly develop and construct

So, uhm...i don't know if this is what you wanted but it's something? Wanring for: some angst, cheating, mentions of fisting, Abu Dhabi 2021

posted it on ao3 because leah told me to

Daniel should have said no.

Better yet, he shouldn’t have picked up the phone.

But it’s too late for that now. He’s in front of Max’s hotel room door, has already knocked.

He should tell Max that this was a mistake, as soon as he opens the door, that he shouldn’t have come.

Better yet, he should leave right now. Just turn on his heels and walk away with his cap pulled low in his face, the hood of his non descript hoodie pulled up.

But he doesn’t leave, and when Max opens the door, he doesn’t tell him that it was a mistake coming here either.

Max knows. Of course he knows. Tomorrow is race day. The last race of the season. The most important race of the season. For Max at least. Max and Lewis.

For Daniel it’s just another shitty fucking race to round out a shitty fucking season. Nothing to lose sleep over, nothing to wake up for really.

And yet, here Daniel is and when Max eyes widen and his mouth drops open when he sees Daniel, Daniel just sighs.

“Can I come in?” he asks, and doesn’t wait for an answer.

He pushes past Max, steps into the room that is achingly familiar even though Daniel has never seen it before in his life.

It’s bigger than the ones he and Max used to share. Bigger than what Daniel got with Renault, what he get snow with McLaren. Of course. He’s not on the brink of winning a world championship. He’s at the brink of fucking something, but certainly not that.

“GP called me,” he says, sitting down on Max’s bed.

Max still sleeps on the left side. He still likes to have two water bottles on the nightstand. His ps5 is there, controller on the duvet, right next to Max’s laptop. His shoes are kicked off in the corner, his suitcase thrown open, barely unpacked.

“Says you’re all in your head,” he goes on, leaning back on his hands, spreading his knees while Max just stands there, looking at him, tension visible in every line of his body, form his shoulders to where he’s curling his bare toes into the carpet. “That he’s never seen you like this.”

Max’s jaw clenches, but his gaze stays on Daniel, fists opening and closing twice before he finally says “I’m fine,” like his face alone doesn’t call him a liar.

“Yeah, you’re not, but sure.” Daniel shrugs.

Max is fucking- He’s maddening, sometimes. He looks so fucking young, in this light, this artificial, half yellow hotel room lightening. And he’s beautiful. So goddamn fucking beautiful it’s like an ache in Daniel’s chest because Max isn’t his anymore. He never was, not really, but there’s still an anymore that Daniel can’t quite let go of. Couldn’t. Not even when he chose to walk away, when he broke Max’s heart and his own with the same two words.

I’m leaving.

And look what it got him. Max might be a world champion tomorrow, and Daniel is just the guy who used to fuck him. Really, Max should be smiling, looking at Daniel now. He should look at him and say I was right.

But that’s not Max. Never once did he throw in Daniel’s face what a mistake he made by leaving Red Bull, by leaving Max.

He got a girlfriend, of course, got himself a historic battle with the seven time world champion Lewis Hamilton. So maybe talking really isn’t all that necessary.

“He said you didn’t want him to call Kelly,” Daniel says, when Max continues to stay quiet.

Max bites his lip and looks off to the side, but still-

“Max, did you ask for me?”

A tight headshake, a fleeting glance. Nothing more.

Daniel takes off his cap, runs a hand through his hair.

“Good,” he says. “Cause I’m not your dick on demand.”

Somehow that’s enough to have Max’s eyes snap up and meet Daniel’s. He looks-

Fuck.

“But you came,” he says, and Daniel can’t help but laugh.

He did. Of course he did. GP called and Daniel didn’t think about it twice. He never did with Max in the beginning and then when he started to, it was- Max fucking Verstappen. He’s going to stay with Daniel for the rest of his life, even if they never see each other again, and that in itself, Daniel loves and hates at the same time.

“I’m not going to fuck you.” Toeing off his shoes, he looks up at Max again, at the rosy color in his cheeks, the way he’s chewing on his plump lips, how he’s still got his hands in fists. “I won’t.”

Max goes down on his knees.

Of course he does.

Daniel isn’t surprised anymore. The first time this happened after Daniel fucked them up, after Max fucking moved in with his girlfriend of fucking two weeks or whatever without telling Daniel- The first time he’d been surprised, he’d let Max take him into his mouth, had let him suck and lick and- And he’d come. He’d come on Max’s face and he’d said “What the fuck, Max,” and Max hadn’t answered, had just gotten to his feet and he hadn’t kissed Daniel.

He does now. Pushes up Daniel’s hoodie and shirt and presses his lips to Daniel’s stomach.

“Max, I-” Daniel starts, but Max’s tongue, slivery wet, velvet soft, licks over his skin and Max’s hands are on the insides of his thighs, pushed them open and Daniel has always been so weak for Max. Still. “I’m not going to fuck you. It’s race day tomorrow.”

They never fucked on race day or the night before.

Never.

Except that they did.

If Daniel was a better man than he is, maybe they wouldn’t have. But Max wanting him, Max begging for his cock, Max whining, legs spread on the bed that was more theirs than Daniel’s –Daniel couldn’t not do it. Sometimes. Most times.

But he won’t tonight.

Whatever happens tomorrow, Daniel won’t be the reason Max can’t bring his a game because he’s sore, because sitting for too long hurts, because Daniel fucked him too hard, it’s-

“I need you in me,” Max says, voice fucking raspy, eyes fucking glistening a she unzips Daniel’s pants. He presses his face to Daniel’s half hard dick, through his boxers, breath wet and hot, his cheek soft. “Daniel,” he says, and again, “Daniel.”

“You don’t, Max,” Daniel says, groans, as Max gets his dick out, wraps his chapped lips around it. “You don’t need-”

-me.

He doesn’t. He never did. Daniel only fooled himself into thinking that he did.

Max likes him. He likes that even after leaving, Daniel still comes when he calls. Hell, even when he doesn’t call. Because here he is and if it was just about getting fucked, Max could get his girl to fuck him with a strap but he doesn’t, because with her he’s picture perfect. Playing family. Being the straight guy. The racing robot he was raised to be. With her, he’s Max Verstappen.

With Daniel he gets to fall apart. To beg and plead and whine.

He gets to want a dick in his ass. He gets to want to be fucked. He gets to be Max. Just Max.

And just Max wants to get fucked and Daniel can already feel his resolve melting.

“Daniel, please,” Max says when he pulls off, a string of saliva connecting his lip to the tip of Daniel’s dick.

He’s fucking gorgeous.

Daniel should have never come.

He still manages to shake his head.

Visibly grinding his teeth, Max looks away, brows furrowed.

“Your fingers then. Give me at least them,” he demands.

At least. Fuck. Like what they are doing isn’t already too much. But Daniel isn’t a good man, and Max doesn’t want him to be.

“Two,” he says, and Max doesn’t look happy but he nods.

He lets Daniel kiss him. Let shim stroke the hand that isn’t lubed up and between his cheeks, stroke up and down his ribs, lets Daniel pull him close, let’s him –be gentle. Be soft.

It’s-

Almost like it used to be. Almost like Daniel has missed.

Almost and yet not quite because there’s a hickey under Max’s collarbone that isn’t from Daniel and his dick and balls are shaved now, even though he never did that when he was only sleeping with Daniel and it’s not-

-enough.

It’s never enough. Not for Max, and not for Daniel either.

“More, Daniel,” Max whines, naked, tow of Daniel’s fingers in the wet, velvet heat of his hole, rim tight. “I need more. Give me-”

Daniel growls, his own dick hard, back in his pants. Trapped, and leaking. Max’s is rubbing against his thigh, leaving streaks of precome on the dark fabric.

“Three, just three. Please,” Max begs, and Daniel has to bite his own lips, ring finger twitching where it’s curled against Max’s taint. He wants to, god, he does, but-

“Max,” he gets out, pleading himself. “The race.”

I could fucking ruin you, he thinks. He could decide this fucking championship right here and right now and nobody would be none the wiser.

It should make him feel powerful. Instead he just feels weak. Weak for Max. Always. Always and forever.

“Remember Monaco?” Max pants, mouthing at Daniel’s throat. “2018. Before the race. You- That night-”

Of course Daniel fucking remembers. Of course. He put his fucking fist in Max, all of it, and Max-

“You had a terrible race,” he says roughly, thrusting his fingers in sharply, right at his prostate, making Max whine.

P9.

These days p fucking 9 wouldn’t be terrible for Daniel. But back then it would have been, for Max it still is.

“And you got first,” Max says, like that matters, like Daniel could forget. Like that wasn’t his last win, before Monza this year.

“I’m not going to fist you, Max, fuck,” Daniel says, and he can’t fucking believe that he has to. That Max would really let him- No, that he’d want him to. That he’s so close to having it all and he wants to use Daniel to fuck it all up for him, it’s-

“Please,” Max still begs, hips bucking forwards, dick rubbing against Daniel’s thigh.

“Max, do you fucking remember Monaco 2018?” Daniel asks, pulling at Mac’s hair. Enough to make him look up, enough to make it hurt. “Remember how sore you were, how your hole-”

“Do you still have the picture?” Max cuts him off and fuck.

Because Daniel does. He still has the fucking video, it’s-It’s all still there and Daniel know she should have deleted it all of it, when he and Max- When He left Red Bull. But he didn’t and it’s too easy, far too easy to reach for his phone, to keep his fingers inside of Max and use his other hand to take his phone and pull up that password protected folder that should have never existed in the fucking first place.

It’s Max who taps on the screen, who picks the picture.

You can’t tell that it’s Max, Not in this one, not unless you are familiar with his hole, his balls, his-

It’s swollen, his rim. Red and puffy. Gaping slightly. Daniel had told Max o clench and he did but he couldn’t close., not all the way and Daniel had kissed his taint and licked over his open hole and Max had whined, legs twitching but he’d kept holding his legs open and that’s what the next picture shows, two of Daniel’s fingers dipping inside, making it even more obvious how open Max is, how loose, how empty.

“The video,” Max tells him now, body clenching around the intrusion of Daniel’s fingers. “Show me the video. Show me.”

Daniel doesn’t argue this time. Just tabs open the file, angles the phone so Max can see while fucking himself on Daniel’s fingers, rubbing against his thigh.

The video used to exist on Max’s phone at one point, but Daniel doesn’t think it does anymore. If Max is smart, he deleted it and all the other shit Daniel used to send him when Max asked for it. Daniel has no idea how Kelly is regarding phones but if you don’t even let your girl put a finger in your ass while blowing you, you probably don’t want to risk her finding pictures of you getting fisted by your former teammate. That’s not-

Fuck, Daniel still remembers how it felt, four fingers plunged into Max and Max gasping, panting, telling him “more” in that broken voice of his and Daniel in a fever haze, slipping his thumb in, twisting his fist and-

In the video Max is on his front, knees tugged under his body, shoulders and face in the sheets. There’s lube dripping from his hole and Daniel’s hand in him to the wrist. You can hear him moan, whine, can hear Daniel’s breathless whispered “god, Max”, and the rustling of sheets.

Max’s body rocks, moves with the force of Daniel’s fist, of his arm, it’s- It’s mind fuck, seeing his own hand, rose fucking tattoo glistening with lube and wetness form Max’s body, when he pulls his hand out of Max, when May’s body stretches so fucking wide and then-

“You gonna do that to me tomorrow?” Max –the real Max, the Max fucking himself on Daniel’s measly two fingers right now- asks, breathless. “If I win, will you- Daniel, will you? Please. Please, if-”

“Yes,” Daniel says, before Max can finish, because he can let himself think. “Yes. Anything. Everything. Whatever you want.”

Whatever Max wants.

Always.

That time in Monaco, it had been his idea too.

The video though, that had been all Daniel.

And now it’s all he fucking has, because if Max wins tomorrow, he’s not going to come see Daniel. He’ll not end up in his bed. He’ll be soaked in champagne, and he’ll be smiling and yelling and celebrating, and Daniel will not be the one to take him home, to take him to bed. He’d going to be the one to watch form the sidelines. He’s going to be the one looking at the pictures, the videos, at Max lifting that trophy, brilliant and golden and beautiful, and he’ll be the guy thinking I used to fuck him. I used to have him in my bed and telling me that he loves me. And I’m the fucking idiot who walked away.

#maxiel #my writing #my fic #drabble time #ask #ask answered #anon ask

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incorrect-quotes-from-she-ra · 3 years ago

Note

Hi! For the ask game thingy, could I request Glitra with either 33 or 16? Thank you! :)

[prompt 16 reads: brand new neighbours au] hi thank you for the prompt!!! i’ve answered the first one because i’m a sucker for flirty catra and ‘do i hate her or do I have a crush on her’ glimmer :D [i’ll cross post it on ao3 after a day or so!!]

---

“Bow, you don’t get it,” Glimmer whines. “She’s hot, but also such. An. Ass.”

Bow looks faintly amused. “Did you call me at two in the morning just to whine about your new neighbor, Glimmer?”

“We live in different continents, Bow, it’s like, five in the afternoon for you. And I’m only away because Catra” –Glimmer scoffs at the name, who even calls themselves Catra- “will not stop playing her emo metal music at the weirdest times of the night!”

“Maybe you should just get to know her,” Bow suggests. “You know. You never really interact with her unless you want to pick a fight. Besides, you might score a date out of it.”

“I don’t want to score a date!” Glimmer protests. She bangs her head on the table as the volume of the music blaring from Catra’s apartment turns up. She didn’t even think it was possible for it get louder.

“I’m going to go to her apartment and break her speakers,” Glimmer grits out. She stands up and grabs her coat.

“Maybe you shouldn’t-” Bow starts to say; but he’s too late. Glimmer’s hung up the phone, and she puts on her coat and shoes with more force than necessary before storming to Catra’s apartment and banging on the door.

The music cuts off and Catra opens the door. She’s wearing a cropped top with tight, tight leather pants, and her hair is short and gorgeous in the dying sun and her lips are red. Glimmer kind of wants to bite them.

Catra raises a slow eyebrow. “Yeah?” she asks, pointedly.

Glimmer blinks away thoughts of kissing, biting Catra’s lips and long, brown neck. Whatever. She can keep a rein on her bisexuality, it’s fine. Totally fine! “Your music. Is too loud. Too fucking loud, I can’t hear myself think. And if you’re going to play music that loud, you might as well play good music, but nooo, I have to hear metal and emo music all! The! Time!”

Catra, to Glimmer’s chagrin, just looks faintly amused. She leans on her doorframe, looking unfairly attractive while doing so, and looks Glimmer up and down. Slowly. “Why don’t you show me some of your music?” she asks, somehow making the innocent line sound like an innuendo. One, God help her, Glimmer wants to take her up on.

“Oh my god,” Glimmer groans. “You couldn’t have come up with a better line?”

“You thought that was a line?” Catra asks, and Glimmer is hit with a brief feeling of panic, before she sees Catra’s twinkling eyes. “Believe me, Sparkles, I can come up with much better lines. Not just for anyone, though.” Catra blinks at her slowly, meaningfully.

“And am I ‘just anyone?’” Glimmer asks, when she can’t take the pause anymore.

“Well, considering that you barged into my apartment, yelled at me about my music, at two in the morning, and somehow managed to look cute doing it, I’d say you’re not just anyone. You’re someone.” The way Catra says someone, dripping with promise and a little bit of curiosity, has Glimmer reddening. Catra grins. “Dinner,” she says. “Tomorrow, 6 pm, my place.”

Glimmer can’t do anything but nod, and leave, stunned into silence.

She can always break Catra’s speakers tomorrow, after they’ve had dinner. She’ll be in her house, after all, it’ll be easier that way. She isn’t agreeing because Catra just might have a snarky, flirty, intriguing personality under all that heavy metal music and emo clothing.

---

thanks for reading! the prompt is from this list, but requests are closed as of now, sorry <3

#prompts for leo #send me a number and ship #glitra #glimmer #catra #glimmer x catra #catra x glimmer #spop #she ra #she-ra #shera #she ra fanfic #spop fanfic #glitra fanfic #glitra fic #my writing

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cazzyvintage · 4 years ago

Text

Every day, it feels like I've lost them again

Synopsis: Sam shouts at Zemo for the things he has done. Though Zemo doesn’t show it the words hurt him deeply. Later on the reader finds Zemo and talks to him about his past.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Bit of angst, Sad Zemo, mentions to his family’s death and his attempted suicide

Author note: I had plans for another Zemo one shot but then I watched a sad Zemo edit which made me cry and here we are

Cross posted on my Ao3 account under the same name

MASTER LIST

The streets seemed silent as you sadly walked home. The only sound was your footsteps dragging along the floor. The silence between all of you was piercing. Today had been an enormous failure, and you all were feeling it weighing down on you. Pushing down your hopes for things to improve. Zemo had somehow found out where the flag smashers would be, from a trusted source, he said, so you all went charging off to talk to them. It was a trap. Zemo didn’t know it was a trap either, though Sam still believed otherwise. You all had barely got out of there safely. It had been close, too close for your liking.

“There’s always tomorrow,” Zemo says, hating the stone cold silence coming from everyone.

“But there’s not,” Sam spits back angrily, “That was the one proper chance we could've had to talk to Kali, and we failed”

“You shouldn’t be so pessimistic,” Zemo argues back, rolling his eyes.

“Pessimistic. Are you for serious, pessimistic,” Sam says shaking his head at Zemo, “You hear this guy I’m the pessimistic one”

“Leave it Sam” Bucky mutters trying to push him along, but Sam refuses.

Sam steps towards Zemo, standing just a few centimeters away from his face, his eyes glaring daggers at him. Zemo stops walking, clenching his jaw and tilting his head to stare back at Sam, not breaking eye contact.

Both you and Bucky glance at each other, not really sure if you should stop this or let it happen.

“You could have led us to our deaths today, Zemo, which I am sure was your intention. You make it clear that you wouldn’t hesitate to see any of us off to our funerals. All because you got butt hurt about the avengers preventing Ultron from destroying the earth at the cost of your country.”

The breath leaves your mouth as the words slip out of Sam’s mouth. Your lips, slightly ajar, turn to look at Sam. He’s breathing heavily, glaring at Zemo. Zemo’s lips curled down into an angry frown and his eyebrows furrowed. You could see his fists curl up, something Bucky must have noticed as well, and he put a hand on Sam’s shoulder to pull him away from Zemo.

“Sam this isn’t the time”

Sam finally gives in and pulls back, but Zemo steps forward, grabbing onto his jacket. Bucky reaches for his gun, but Zemo waves his hand at him, motioning him not to.

“You don’t know the first thing about me, Sam.” is all he says, letting go of Sam’s jacket roughly and storming off.

It would be hours later till you saw him again. During that time your mind was often thinking back to Zemo. When you really thought about it, you realised you knew nothing about him. Heck, until recently you didn’t know he was a Baron. All you had been told was that he was a Sokovian who wanted to split the avengers up because of what they did to his country. Being a Baron, you supposed that made it more personal for him. Still, it felt like something was missing. Something didn’t add up.

You laid in one of the many guest rooms tossing and turning while all these thoughts flooded your mind. Eventually you gave up on the idea of ever getting sleep tonight and got up. If you weren’t sleeping, you might as well get some midnight snacks. Heading into the main room, you notice the door leading to the back was open, letting a chilly breeze float in.

Heading over to check it out, your eyes lie upon Zemo sitting on top of a fallen over tree trunk in the back patio, looking up at the night sky. His coat was wrapped around him to keep him warm, and his face was expressionless as he looked up to the night sky that was scattered with the stars. He hadn’t noticed you staring at him, his mind was far from where his body was.

After a few moments of just staring at him, you broke the silence, “Zemo?”

His head instantly snapped to you, surprised to have been caught unaware.

“Oh, hello y/n, can’t sleep?”

You shake your head, taking his question as an invitation to go over and sit next to him, “No, to many thoughts in my mind to go to sleep”

“Ah, a common problem for an insomniac”

“I assume you have similar reasons, since you are out hear”

He looks away from you, smiling weakly at the floor, “Yes something like that, sleep comes rarely to me”

Your eyes flutter down to the ground, not really sure what to say, “I’m sorry to hear that” you whisper

You both sit there in silence for a few minutes. It wasn’t an awkward silence like what you were used to. No. It was a comfortable silence. You were both thankful just to have someone beside you at that moment. You shudder slightly as the wind picks up, making the hairs on your arm stand up. Zemo notices and slowly shrugs off his coat, placing it around you. You smile politely up at him in thanks.

“May I ask what your thoughts were?” Zemo asks gently, glancing back over to you

“You probably think it was about our failure, right?” you say and Zemo nods his head slightly

“They weren’t, actually. I didn’t suspect us to accomplish anything. It seemed to good to be true. No, I was thinking about what happened after. Between you and Sam”

Zemo’s face instantly shifted, his mouth pulling into a frown and his eyebrows furrowing, “Ah” is all he says

“What Sam said was way out of line. I can’t understand the pain you must feel about losing Sokovia”

Zemo hums to let you know he heard but doesn’t say anymore, his gaze just returns to the sky.

You didn’t want to push him too far. Over this time you had gotten to know him and almost considered him a friend, but you couldn’t help but be curious. You wanted to know more about him.

“But there’s more isn’t there. Something we don’t know,” you say gently

You can see him swallow and his fingers dig into his palms as he tenses at your question.

After a moment he finally responds, “Yes, you’re right. I... I had a family who died that day. My father, wife and child. I told them to go out of the city to the countryside. That was where my father lived, you see. I had to stay behind as I was a part of this Sokovian kill squad. Even as royalty, I still had duties. I had faith in the avengers. They would sort everything out. But they didn’t. When the battle was one they just returned home, leaving us with the hard task of finding all the dead. I assumed my family would be safe, yet it took me two days after to find their bodies.”

Your body gets overwhelmed with coldness as you hear his story. The memories of the battle flooded your mind and you could feel a bitterness creep into your mouth. You could have stayed behind to help. Why didn’t you? Your eyes water slightly as you sympathise with him and feel the guilt lie on your soul.

“Oh god Zemo, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have asked,” you are quick to respond

“No...it’s okay. If I didn’t want to tell you, I wouldn’t have said anything”

You look up to the night sky and reflect over his words. All the pain that Zemo must feel, holding onto, and you did not know. None of you did. You were sure if Sam knew he wouldn’t have said the things he did. You knew what Zemo did was wrong, but damn you couldn’t help but empathise with him.

“If you want…” you start, hoping what you were choosing to ask wouldn’t be going too far, “would you like to tell me about them?”

Zemo finally looks away from the sky, his eyes looking to the ground. He swallows again, slightly sniffing before speaking.

“My Son, Carl, he was four when he... when he died. He always did this cute thing where if he didn’t like the food on his plate he would pretend he was gifting the food to you to show his love for you”

You chuckle slightly thinking about it, “That does sounds cute”

“He was the most precious thing in existence. He always wanted a sibling like his friends had. He loved the idea of being an older brother. Every morning when the mail arrived, he asked if he had a brother or sister delivered to him. Me and my wife… we were planning on having more kids. We knew he would've made the best big brother. We hoped for a girl, you know, to even things out”

“What was she like?”

“She was so beautiful. Like the goddess Venus. Many men tried to win her affection, but she settled for me. I had never felt like a luckier man. She was so kind, so generous, so loving. My perfect angel”

The tears that had been threatening to fall from Zemo’s eyes broke the dam and fell down his cheeks.

“If I could, I would give up everything I have, everything I own just to hold them in my arms again”

A sob breaks out of him and he holds his hand up to his mouth as his eyes crinkle up as more tears fall. He tries to wipe them away, but he can’t stop crying. You put your arm around him and pull him into a hug which he gladly accepts. He wraps his arms around you and buries his head into your shoulder as he sobs.

“I miss them so much”

You say nothing, just rub your hand on his back reassuringly. He takes a few minutes before he speaks again.

“I tried to end my life after I completed my revenge. So I didn’t have to live another day without them. But I failed. I spent the next seven years without them. And everyday it feels like I’ve lost them again,”

“What do you plan to do… after we have finished here?”

You can feel Zemo’s body tenses in your arms as you ask that question, “I think you know, y/n”

You pull back from him to look into his blood-shot eyes. “Zemo, I know this is so very hard for you, but please don’t. I know with your wit and cunning you can think of a way to escape all of this safely. I will not pretend to know your wife, but if she is anything like what you have told me about, I’m sure she wouldn’t want you to either. She would want you to find some happiness in life,”

Zemo finally moves away from you, standing up off the tree log and taking one last look at the sky before then looking back at you. He’d stopped crying by now but the tear stained cheek and dark under eyes were evidence of what had just occurred. The side of his lip tried to twitch up into a slight smile but it faltered,

“Thank you, y/n”

Taglist: @multiyfandomgirl40 @ineffablebean @freyjasamael @avgravy @jayxkelsi @huntheimpossible @checkurwindow @there-goes-thefighter @bunniwritesx @montypythonsholysnail @yallgotkik

#zemo #baron zemo #zemo x y/n #zemo x reader #tfatws #sam wilson #marvel #daniel brühl #mcu #zemo x you #i love zemo #helmut zemo #sugar daddy zemo #yes this is about zemo

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maybege · 4 years ago

Text

Work Song

Summary: You meet once again.

Pairing: hot dad!Boba Fett x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 4.2k

Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: explicit sexual content, dom/sub relationship, use of sex toys, dirty talk, consensual degradation and namecalling, multiple orgasms, double penetration, oral sex (m receiving), come play, sexting

When I was pondering which to post (bodyguard!Paz ord hot dad!Boba), I figured: why not both? So tonight I am serving you some delicious hot dad!Boba smut and tomorrow or Tuesday evening you will get the next part of The One! I am really excited to share this with you and as always, feedback is greatly appreciated and I hope you enjoy it!

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

Work was boring.

Or rather, it wasn’t boring but your thoughts kept drifting to much more exciting prospects. Like the next meeting at the motel.

Boba had messaged you that he had gotten scheduled for the midnight calls almost all through the next month and had suggested you meet on Fridays instead. But since Fridays were your yoga course days, and the only real opportunity for you to go out and meet new people and potential friends, that was not an option either. And so, you had remained on Saturdays - even if it meant he wouldn’t get to stay the night.

Even over the phone, you could see the reluctance he had to agree to it. (“I’d prefer if I could buy you breakfast the way I buy you dinner,” had been his exact words to which you had only smiled.)

So now it was Thursday, almost the end of the week, and you could not wait to get back home, to get to the end of the week and into the motel and, most importantly, to Boba.

With a groan, you let your head onto your desk in your cubicle. All around you, you could hear the tapping of the keyboards, people talking, phones ringing, the alarm of the printer going off when there was – once again – not enough paper there. Even sitting at your desk among a sea of people you never felt so alone.

“What are you thinking?” Nat, chewing a piece of gum, popped up on the wall of your cubicle, resting her chin in her hands. You flinched in surprise, looking up at her cheerful face. “Dreaming of mystery man from the bar again?”

If only she knew.

You smiled, “I, uh, I was just checking over these numbers again, I think I might have to start from scratch and ask marketing for the raw numbers.”

Nat popped her gum, clearly disappointed that you did not seem to share any details. “Well, Marketing really needs to get their shit together,” she grumbled, “I had to ask them for the full numbers – twice! – last week. can you believe that? Twice!”

“Now that I have them in front of me, it’s not that hard to believe,” you grinned, leaning back in your chair and looking up at her, “But that is not why you came to talk is it?”

“Well,” she sighed dramatically, sending you a wink, “Since you don’t let me live through your love life – you want to come for drinks this Saturday? Me and the girls want to check out a new restaurant in town, I’m sure you’ll like it.”

“I’d love to but I already have plans,” you declined, your heart skipping a beat at the thought of whom you had plans with, “Maybe next time?”

For a minute, you were afraid that maybe she would be suspicious. That maybe she would keep asking you about Boba and you would have to dodge your questions.

But thankfully, Nat seemed to have completely forgotten all about your love life.

“Sure!” she perked up, throwing a look towards the kitchen, “Wanna do lunch together? I’m starving.”

You nodded, smiling when you heard her basically skipping her way to the kitchen from her cubicle. Grabbing your phone, you went to follow her.

Nat kept talking about one thing or another, completely oblivious to the internal fight you were just hashing out in your head.

Never had your phone looked more menacing.

You did not know when or how exactly but somewhere in the two minutes it had taken to microwave your food, a tiny little thought had manifested itself in your mind.

Boba had asked for your wishes the last time and you had been too nervous to think about them. But surely, with the safety of a screen between you, you would be able to articulate at least some of them?

Then again, would he even want that? After all, it was not Saturday and maybe he did not want to have that kind of contact out of your agreed meeting hours?

You tapped your fingernails on the table top before deciding to just fuck it.

You: I want you to fuck my mouth.

There. It was sent. It was done. You had half a mind to switch your phone off and never look at it again, you felt that embarrassed. But before you could do so you saw how the read notification popped up and now it was like a car crash you couldn’t look away from. Boba had seen it. It was too late now. Shit, what had you done?

Boba: So princess has some dirty wishes after all.

Boba: Any more things you want to try out?

You huffed out a laugh, shaking your head towards Nat who looked at you questioningly. “My friend just sent me something funny,” you waved off while making sure no one would be able to get a look on your phone screen.

Toys. you typed out, I’ve never got to try any and I want to try them all. Want you to use them on me.

Now I’m thinking about getting you a dildo, little one. Maybe even two. One for that tight little kissy and the other to train your mouth.

The implication made you clench your thighs and you took a deep breath, hoping no one would notice how you were almost squirming in your seat.

Lunch forgotten, your eyes were fixed on your phone as the three dots kept moving on the screen. You weren’t really sure if this counted as texting per se but you had never been this explicit with someone over texts and your heart skipped a beat as the next message appeared.

Boba: Does that turn you on?

You: Yes.

Boba: Where are you?

You: On my lunch break. Why?

Boba: Because if you’d been home I’m this close to take a half-day and fuck you silly in your own bed.

You shuddered, your thighs clenching.

I’m this close to going home sick if that’s what awaits me.

The read notification popped up but you saw how he wasn’t online anymore and frowned. You tried to avoid your thoughts of how maybe you had been too forward or too awkward or maybe he thought you were weird now for being willing to go home in the middle of the workday just to get in bed with him. But the truth was you were.

Work was boring today and while you appreciated Nat’s attempts to get talking, you didn’t really feel in the mood to talk. Besides, you knew she was just out to get more info about the bar mystery man as she called him and even though you liked her you really didn’t want to talk about Boba to anyone. So yeah, the thought of being able to go home and be able to feel Boba against you instead of going through the different numbers sounded like heaven to you.

Reluctantly, you got back to your pasta salad, aware that you only had a few minutes on your break left and trying to not spend them checking your phone constantly. How much more pathetic could you be?

“Ready?” Nat asked suddenly beside you as her friends got their dishes into the dishwasher and you nodded with a smile.

“Although when is one ever ready for work?” she asked, faking a British accent and you grinned, pocketing your phone in the pocket of your dress.

“Never,” you replied, “one can just hope it’ll be over soon.”

The dark-haired women turned to you with a conspiratory grin before twirling into her cubicle, leaving you alone to go back to your desk. You stood at the entrance of your cubicle for a moment, eyes roaming over the papers on your desk, ruined with your scribbling as you tried to decipher whatever numbers marketing had sent you.

You rubbed your hand over your face, forcing yourself to smile with the hopes that it would release endorphins or some shit. You could do this. There was no need to feel overwhelmed by this. What would be the first step to make this better?

Typing the email to Brenda from Marketing should not have been as hard as it was. But your mind was swirling with trying to find the right balance between polite and insistent because you could not afford to lose any more hours of work over something that simply could not be worked with.

Just as you were ready to give up, your phone pinged.

Boba: Sorry, business call. But believe me, little one, I can’t wait until this weekend. Would you be okay with me buying some toys for you?

You smiled, answer already ready.

“Shit, little one, you looked so good like that. You like that?”

You gasped for breath, eagerly nodding. A thin layer of sweat had built all over your body as you knelt on the end of the bed. You were so intoxicated by these feelings, by him, it felt like everything was on fire, getting ready to burst.

As soon as he had arrived – you being the first in the room this time around – he had framed your face in his hands and kissed you until you both been breathless. And then he had shown you the toys.

That was how you had ended up here, on the bed, completely naked, moving yourself on one of the dildos he had brought for you.

“Look at you, such a good girl for me, hm?” Boba murmured, his hands moving once again and you choked, tears stinging in your eyes from the effort of trying to relax your throat and keeping your hands behind your back as he had instructed.

Boba had not just brought one toy. He had brought two. And you while you were fucking yourself on one, thighs shaking with the effort, Boba had pushed the other down your mouth. “To train you to take me,” he had rumbled with a glint in his eyes.

A particularly hard thrust down your throat forced you lower on the shaft between your legs and you moaned, tears of pleasure and despair pricking your eyes. He was still completely closed, looking as dominant as ever and you could feel your clit and y our nipples aching wanting to be touched and played with.

You whined, drool slipping down your chin and Boba showed mercy, slowly pulling the toys away from your mouth. “What is it, little one?” he asked, “What’s got you all teary-eyed, hm ?”

“My – my nipples are so sensitive,” you pleaded with him, “Please, please touch them, Boba.”

He grinned darkly, running the tip of the dildo over your wet lips. “So, touch them.”

You shook your head as best as you could, wanting to remind him of the one rule he had set for you but then he pushed the toys back into your mouth. Your back arched as you leant forwards, humming when the dildo shifted inside you and even more so when your chest brushed against the rough material of his shirt.

It was like little pricks of pleasure coursed through you.

Boba looked down at you, the blue dildo still in his hand and you felt heat seep into your cheeks. From shame? Maybe. But all you felt arousal as you saw the admiration in hid ryes.

“How desperate you look,” he mused, his fingers holding your chin, “How pretty. Just for me.”

“Yes,” you gasped, mouth falling open as you sank down on the toys again, your nipples brushing over the harsh fabric, “J-just for you.”

“My pretty little fucktoy,” he smiled, leaning down and kissing you open-mouthed. You gasped into him, pleasure overtaking you and when his hand wandered down to your right nipple, pinching and pulling it sharply, you came. Everything in your body tightening before it felt like you were bursting at the seams, the sudden wave of pleasure making you whimper.

Where you had been so precariously balanced on top of the dildo, now you lost your balance, completely falling against him but Boba was there to catch you.

“Good girl,” he mumbled, his hand still squeezing your tit, “Think you have another round in you?”

Your eyes fell to the very obvious bulge in his pants and you nodded eagerly. Even with your legs still trembling from your orgasm, you were already carving more. More of this, more of him and the pleasure he could give you.

With calloused fingers gently wrapped around your forearm, he helped you up.

You followed willingly, letting him turn around until you were facing the bed, sheets messy where you had kneeled.

“I’m going to let you choose, little one,” he murmured into your ear, his warm body pressed against your back. You could hardly concentrate with your hands on your skin like that, one hand holding you by your throat while the other dipped between your folds. “Which toy do you want to fuck now?”

First, you were disappointed that apparently you did not get to fuck yourself on his cocks but then his finger swiped over your clit and you shuddered.

“Answer me, princess,” he growled, his hand slightly tightening on your throat, “Or are you too cockdumb already?”

“Nuh-uh,” you tried to shake your head just as much as your legs were shaking from the pleasure he was giving you. You tried to focus on the toys. The one you had used already and the one he had had you suck off. The blue one was glistening from your juices and your thighs clenched at the thought of having it inside you again.

But the other one, the purple one, was much thicker than the blue and you knew it was closer to what Boba’s cock actually felt like.

“The purple one,” you murmured, head leaning back against his shoulder and he mouthed at your neck, humming in satisfaction.

“You’re so kriffing sexy, you know that?” he whispered, planting a playful bite on your shoulders before leaving you alone in the middle of the room. You whined, pressing your thighs together as you saw him so meticulously prepare for what seemed to be the next scene he had had in mind.

With a soft towel spread on the floor in front of the armchair, Boba looked at you as he sat down, legs spread wide before planting the dildo on the towel. “I think good girls deserve a treat,” he murmured, working on his pants before getting his weeping cock out and you swore your knees were that close to giving out underneath you.

You gaped at him, practically falling on your knees with your hands placed on his thighs. The impact made a dull sound and your heart skipped a beat as he immediately leant forward, fingers gripping your chin as he searched your face for any sign of pain.

“I know you’re eager to suck my cock, little one,” he smirked, “But no need hurting yourself over it, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, feeling a little embarrassed for how needy you were being.

Boba smirked, leaning back in his seat but not before running the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip. Your eyes flicked down to his weeping cock, your mouth watering at seeing how a drop of precome had already collected at the tip.

Without thinking any further, you sank down on the dildo, mouth falling open at how it stretched you. You ducked down, closing your lips around his shaft and taking him as deep as he would go in one smooth movement.

Boba groaned loudly above you, one hand going to the back of your neck to keep you there. Just like your pussy, he filled your throat completely, your tongue feeling as if it was running out of space so you did your best to press it against the underside of him, wriggling along the prominent vein he had there.

Tears gathered in your eyes again and you moaned as the toy inside you hit a spot the previous one couldn’t. Your hips stuttered, slowly starting to grin against it in hopes of it hitting that spot again. You did not move your mouth from him.

“Fuck you look good like that,” he praised you, his free hand coming around your throat and you tried to swallow when you felt his thumb rub over the bulge in your throat. You had not even realized how far you had taken him but when you saw the grin on his face, his eyes glazed over in pleasure, you felt proud of yourself for making him feel like this.

Slowly he pulled you off his length and you followed, gasping for breath when you could. A trail of saliva connected you still to him and through your lashes, you looked up at him. Even now he was a sight to behold, jaw clenched, a glint in his eyes.

You would do everything to please him.

“Don’t think I can last long, little one,” he grumbled, lips twitching as he spotted how you still moved your hips, “Think you can come before that? Don’t want to leave you hanging.”

You nodded, rising on your knees again just like before and sinking back down, moaning when it hit that sweet spot.

“Good,” he smiled, warping his hand around his cock, “You can touch yourself how much you. Just want you to come for me, okay?”

“Okay,” you smiled, obediently opening your mouth to take him in again. Your fingers went to your clit, circling it to spread around the wetness that was already making its way to the towel. You gasped, hips jerking at the pleasure.

Boba groaned, rubbing the head of his cock along your tongue, precoma coating your taste buds. He pushed your head down again, quickly building up to a rhythm that had you choking and gagging, spit trailing down your chin, making you feel filthy and desired.

One hand came up to your chest, pinching your nipple and throwing you off the cliff. Your moan got interrupted by Boba shoving himself down your throat even more and you shook where you sat, your wetness coating the toy until all you could hear were obscene squelching sounds from between your thighs.

“Where did you want my come little one?”

“On my face, please,” you gasped.

A deep, guttural groan left him and you opened your mouth even wider, sticking your tongue out as your fingers played with your nipples. Hot roped of come splattered on your face, landing on your brows, your nose, your tongue, dripping down your chin and onto your chest. Boba continued pumping his shaft milking himself of every last drop and collecting it on his thumb before gently spreading it over your cheek.

“Did I do good?” you asked, heaving for breath.

“You were perfect,” he rumbled, scooping some of his come onto your tongue and you swallowed eagerly.

You shifted on your knees, wincing when the dildo moved inside you.

Boba leant down to you, his hand carefully holding you by the elbow as he stood up slowly, taking you with him. Your legs were shaking from the strain and your knees hurt from straightening them. You shivered.

A soft kiss was pressed to your lips and he led you back to the bed. The fabric was cool under your fingertips and you took a shaky breath. His warm hands were on your shoulders, thumbs brushing the skin as he looked down on you.

“Let me get you something to clean up, okay?” he murmured.

You nodded silently. He disappeared for a moment and you simply sat there, wringing your hands and trying to focus on your surroundings. Everything was fuzzy still, pleasantly warm from your orgasms but you also felt could now that it was over.

You heard the sink run in the bathroom and a moment later, Boba was in front of you again, a warm cloth in his hands that he gently ran over your face.

“Look up at me, little one,” he murmured and you did, closing your eyes as you tilted your face towards him. With gentle movements, he cleaned your face but you were too tired to smile. You felt drained but in a good way, like your limbs were too heavy from pleasure to really move and so you just let the feelings wash over you.

When he was finished, his hand came up to cup your cheek and you leaned into him.

Boba hummed, “Would you like to take a shower or a bath?”

“Bath, please,” you croaked, flinching as you heard how hoarse you sounded. Boba’s lips quirked up and he nodded. Slowly he guided you to the tiled bathroom, sitting you down on a towel at the edge of the tub before getting the water running.

You frowned, the rushing water almost too loud in your ears. Boba turned around, spotting you curling in on yourself and just like that he had you in his arms.

“It was a bit intense, wasn’t it?” he asked quietly, his lips brushing against your ears and you nodded, burying your head in the fabric of his flannel.

“I – I don’t know why I feel this way,” you whispered, “this … sensitive.”

“You’re coming down from a high, little one,” he explained, thumb brushing the back of your neck, “It’s normal to feel a little exposed. But I will make sure, you’re okay, okay? Anything you need, princes, you just tell me, yeah? Anything.”

“Okay,” you whispered, already feeling a bit better with him here.

You did not know for how long you stood there, but when the water shut off and Boba helped you in the tub you sighed in content. The water was just the perfect temperature and you sunk in with closed eyes, the only thing guiding you being Boba’s hands.

“I will get us some food, okay?” he asked quietly, sitting at the edge of the tub and holding your hand. You had never felt this cared for. “I will get us the same order as the last time, does that sound good?”

You nodded with a smile. He stood up but you held onto his hand, only letting go when the distance became too much. Stars, you were really fucked out good, weren’t you?

With your eyes closed in relaxation, you could only hear his low chuckle as he got ready to leave. The door to the room closed not long after. You soaked in the tub for what felt like an eternity. The water was warm and you were positively surprised by the scent of the motel shampoo. It certainly was not as bad as you thought it would be.

Slowly you felt yourself coming back to reality, feeling more energized and more awake and aware of your surroundings. Boba had not come back yet so when the water got a little too cold for your liking, you decided to get out anyway.

You got dressed in your nightgown you had taken with you – thankful that Boba had left it for you on the counter in a moment of foresight –, hurrying barefoot over the carpet into the bed.

Just as you turned on the TV, the lock of the door turned and a whistling Boba came in, arms laden full of brown paper bags.

“You got more than last time,” you stated, frowning as you saw him put down a second paper bag on the small TV desk.

“Well, I won’t be able to buy you breakfast tomorrow, now will I?” he replied, “Thought I could take care of that now and then you don’t have to worry about it tomorrow.”

“Oh really?” you asked, sitting up on your knees, not minding when the blanket fell down, so you could at least make an attempt to peer into the bag.

Boba chuckled, indulging you by handing you the mysterious food bag and immediately you took a peek. There, neatly arranged, was a croissant, a chocolate muffin and what looked like a little breakfast sandwich.

“I’d keep the sandwich in the fridge,” Boba commented from the other side of the room, already taking out the familiar smelling food containers. He did not seem to know how your heart swelled in your chest at the sweet gesture.

You knew he had wanted to be here for breakfast – he had literally told you so on the phone – but when it was clear that Saturday would remain your meeting day of choice, you thought he had just shrugged it off. Maybe it had just been a flirtatious remark?

But the fact that he had gone out of his way to somehow show you he had been serious about what he had said made butterflies appear in your stomach.

“It’s very sweet,” you murmured, looking at the way the muscles in his back moves as he fished for the plastic utensils, “You didn’t have to.”

“But I wanted to,” he replied easily, still smiling when he turned around and carried the food with him, “Now let me slip under that blanket, princess, what will we watch?”

You giggled, watching this giant man carefully position himself on the bed, before stretching out his arm, offering you the food to eat and his chest to rest against once again.

“I could get used to this,” you murmured, taking a bite of the pita.

“Me too, princess,” he rumbled, “Me too.”

#maybege writes #boba fett x reader #boba fett x fem!reader #smut

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