#someone step on my sack while i cry and scream for help | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

subwaysurf45 · 4 years ago

Text

Code Star

Summary: a code word you and Bucky share is used; but it’s not in a good way.

Warning: panic attack, ripping out hair, addiction(little bit)

Words: 2030

Masterlist!

"Agent. Agent. Copy agent?" Friday spoke through the speakers in your room, it was louder than normal and also in the middle of the night which was the reason you woke up with a gasp.

"C-copy," you spat out, you typically sleep with your mouth open, so it gets dry when you first wake.

"Mr. Barns is calling you, he says it's 'code star'." Your stomach dropped, from all the adrenaline from waking up with a scare and the code, you sprinted down the hall way.

It was late and you were in the kitchen, you were trying to separate from your sleeping pills because during your last mission you couldn't sleep because you forgot them, you were addicted to them. So you needed to take a step back, learn to fall asleep on your own.

After asking around there was a tea Wanda recommended, it was lavender tea and she said it's the best with honey. You were currently steeping your bag and had honey beside you.

You took the soggy bag out and turned to the compost bin, after dropping it in and turned around you almost slipped because Bucky was right there.

Standing frozen. Dead face. Staring at you.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" You yelled, not caring if it woke someone up, "what's wrong with you?" You realized you clutched at your heart through your sweater.

He was on the other side of the island, but he seemed to be leaning over a bit, he looked down at your steaming mug and then back at you.

"I- I was going to say hi and then I liked the smell of your tea and then when you turned I looked up at you, I-I didn't mean to freak you out, that must have been really scary, sorry." He looked down into the cup again. "What is it?" He finally asked.

You let your guard down a bit, "lavender," you never looked away from him, "and honey." That was the most he'd ever said to you since he showed up two months ago, he stayed in his room the first month.

"Nice," he nodded, his metal arm coming up and rubbing the back of his neck.

"There's extra water, I can make you one." You knew he was going to ask for your cup, but you really need to hit the sack.

His face lit up in the dark, "perfect!" He half smiled.

You poured the other cup and steeped the another bag, then added honey as well. You both stayed where you were on either side of the island.

"Why are you up?" He asked while blowing on the tea, his voice was below normal level.

"Just can't sleep," you sigh and look over to the common room, no one was there but you really didn't want to meet his eyes.

"I get that," he spoke awkwardly and looked over as well, thinking you were studying something.

"I'm-...I'm trying to get if sleeping pills my shit therapist prescribed for me," you looked back at him, his eye brows raised and his head tilted forty-five degrees.

"Sleeping pills?"

"Insomnia."

"Oh..." he spoke to himself and looked down again, his thumb rubbing the smooth ceramic handle of the blue mug that wasn't his. "I get nightmares." He stated blankly, but he didn't look up at his statement.

"Is it..." you tried to find the right words to not trigger him, "before the war, like America...or later on…in life...?" You danced around the question, Steve had told you mentioning certain things can get Bucky really freaked out.

"My mind," he laughed sarcastically, "it likes to mix the two," he pulled one side of his mouth tight.

"Double-whammy," you whispered, then froze at the sound of a giggle, Bucky chuckled. "What?"

"No-I-I just...I get that reference," he seemed proud, his face seemed to fall quickly though, circling back, "my arm is weird, it's like my human arm but the star," he points to the red, "is like sewn in, I don't know what it means but..." he trialed off.

"Well, if you need help, just call a code star, I'll come to your room and bring you some tea, how about that?" You smile.

"What? Like a friend?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"Okay," he smiled and nodded, "alright," his fingers drummed on the counter, "I'm gonna take this back to my room, but I'll remember that." He nodded and left, but caught himself at the corner to the rooms, "hey, agent," he spoke normal, you looked, "if you're gonna be my friend, don't ask 'what's wrong with me?', because trust me...I’ll talk you to your grave." He smirked.

“Noted, Sargent.” You’ve never seen him joke with you before, it felt comforting.

'Code star' had never been used for its newer purpose before, as the friendship and relationship grew 'code star' became 'code lavender', it happened after Bucky called 'code star' once while he was having a panic attack, you took so long to make the tea he was passed out by the time you showed up.

'Code lavender': make a tea, meet in the kitchen.

'Code star': panic attack, drop everything a come.

You sprinted down the hallway to the very last room, you could hear laboured breathing as you got closer. Typically you'd knock softly and come in quietly, not this time.

You whipped open the door to see Bucky staring slightly down on the edge of his bed, he was rocking back and forth as his fingers ripped and pulled on his long hair. His pupils blew wide and his lips curled causing his teeth to flash, he didn't even look up at you.

A loud bang from your knees hitting the hardwood didn't phase him either, you tired to duck down to meet his line of eye sight but you couldn't get down enough.

"Bucky, look at me!" You pulled his hands out of his hair, as you made him drop them to his side you found a pile of hair outside his thighs, "oh god," you whispered, your hand unlacing with his to pick up the locks, the free hand of his went straight back to tugging. "Don't do that, don't do that." You hushed and took it out again, a tuff came with it. "Bucky, look at me," you said calmer now, you needed to be the example. "Bucky, nod if you can hear me."

He didn't nod, his eyes stayed locked on your chest. They didn't move there, he was already looking there, it was like he was looking through you.

You kept his hands clumped in your right hand and your left hand began to trace around his face, starting at his cheeks that were dry, little circles led to cross the bridge the nose a couple times. You also started humming, a song you heard Bucky and Steve sing once while drunk and having fun.

His eye brows seemed to raise for a second at the tune, but he quickly fell back into his short shallow breathes. You kept going, your finger gently tracing his cleft chin, it was always something you pinched when joking around with him.

"Wake up, Bucky," you whispered after finishing the song, you started the tune again. His breathing seemed to slow a little and his almost black eyes moved around a bit, "there you go," you cupped his cheek, now just shifting your thumb back and forth. You didn't know if he'd start to pull his hair out again so you kept both the metal and flesh hand covered with your left.

His breathing went to normal, his rib cage expanding wide as he took voluntary breathes. His eyes were shut tight but you felt him lean into your hand that was still holding his cheek.

"Are you with me?" You asked softly, he leaned into your hand again, his hand slowly made it up to his face and he placed his hand over yours, gently guiding it down to his lips; his kisses to your palm were long and filled with their own language.

"I'm here," his voice cut out and became a breath, but you heard him. His eyes looked up before his head moved, he locked eyes with you and something changed.

It was like he was seeing you for the first time, eyes a little wide and confused; but knowing at the same time. They became misty the more he looked, he was never one to cry so he dropped his head to cover the tears.

"It's okay," you hushed, he dropped your hand and leaned forward, basically throwing his entire body weight onto you. You fell back to the floor and he cried in your chest, you saw some of his hair fall with him. "Let it out," your arms wrapped around him and began to rub all along his back, huge, gentle, soothing rubs.

"I-I killed you all," his voice sounded like a dog panting from his short breathes that came when he talked, "I- couldn't s-stop," his 's' slithered like snakes as he tries get sufficient air and talk.

"We're all here, just a dream." It was the same mantra, "we're all here, you're safe, it was a nightmare, you're out of it now. There you go, big breathes, you're doing great, you're a pro at this, keep breathing." You let the broken record play, he seemed to get smaller at every praise.

He sat up and leaned against the bed, Bucky pulled his sleeve around his fist to hold it tight. When he wiped his face it was aggressive, like he was mad at himself. He just stared at you like he always did, you were alway involved in his dreams so he needed to look at you to stay grounded.

"Sorry," his 's' still slurred, "I-...I'm sorry," he wanted to say something else, you could hear it in his tone. His head dropped, Bucky almost fell over at the sight of his hair, "did I do that?" He asked, his nose turned up.

All you did was nod, any verbal answer would've sounded almost grossed out or accusatory. He sighed and looked between the hair and you, he wanted to say something, he'd already stopped himself once.

"Tell me," you whispered.

"I want to cut my hair," Bucky responded softly, "I-I also want to sleep on the floor from now own." He seemed ashamed of the second ask.

"You like the cold?" You tried to figure him out.

"That and it's...comforting...I think," Bucky scratched his head, his metal hand slowing at the thin spot from tugging, "it just grounds me, I'm not used to fluffy things- nicer things."

"How about a mattress pad, you're back will scream at you in the morning." You tried to lighten the mood, he smiled a bit and then nodded. "How about you come sleep in my room tonight, just so I can keep an eye on you and if you want to sleep on my firm mattress you can hop on, how's that?" You stood and held your hand out, Bucky nodded and clapped his metal hand to yours.

You led him down the hallway and to your room, it was really quiet and almost off putting. You slept barefoot so the sound of soft footsteps from your feet was the only thing you heard, Bucky wore socks.

He went straight to your bed and felt the mattress, both hands pressing down on it to see the give it has. You felt a little happy when he was nodding in a positive way; his bottom lip also pouted out.

Bucky slipped in and you joined as well, he stayed still for a while, on his back and staring at the ceiling.

"Y'know, you can cuddle," you whispered, without another second to blink Bucky's face rested on your chest, his arm circled your body completely in a tight hug. Your hands found their way to his back and to his hair, softly lulling him to sleep, "I'll cut your hair in the morning."

"Love you," he murmured.

#bucky barns fluff #bucky oneshot #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #fatws bucky #bucky x reader #bucky fluff #bucky x female reader #bucky barns

727 notes · View notes

nuttynutcycle · 4 years ago

Note

Not sure if you take requests, but if you do would you be able to continue on the ‘Intruder’ story, (where the villain breaks into hero’s apartment only to learn they’ve been quarantined). And the continuation would be then trying to survive together, in quarantine?

Intruder Part 2

Part 1 here

Thanks to the lovely @avvail for proofreading!

In hindsight, Hero should have said something about Villain temporarily moving in. Especially when Villain opened up the kitchen cupboards and clicked their tongue in dismay, quickly texting their sidekick about what pots to bring. And pans. And cutting knives. Hero could have sworn they heard Villain swear under their breath when they found the Kraft Dinner shelf. "How do you keep beating me on this diet?"

Hero lifted their head off their resting place on the table. "Pretty easy when your villain prefers flirting over fleeing."

"It's called 'distracting the opponent.' You should know; you distract me all the time." Villain said over their shoulder, moving through Hero's kitchen in an efficient whirlwind. "And if you want, I'd be thrilled to help you practice your flirting - wait." Villain opened the fridge door, wrinkling their nose at the containers inside. They picked up the closest one and sniffed it. "Lasagna's not supposed to be green."

"...that's my attempt at noodle stew."

Villain threw the container into the garbage hard enough for it to bounce. "That's it. I'm taking charge of meals for the next 10 days."

Hero felt the pressing weight of social responsibility as their unexpected guest continued to purge their fridge. "But-"

"Hero, I'm offering. Now you accept graciously," Villain threw a look at Hero over their shoulder. "That's how this works."

Hero pursed their lips. "Fine. I just don't feel right about you doing all the work."

"The real work will be getting your body adjusted to normal food. Have you ever heard of a healthy diet?"

"Have you ever heard of ice cream?"

Even though Hero was, to put it generously, below average with eating healthy, they excelled at sleeping. So after the pair had eaten supper, watched a movie, paused the film so Villain could rant about how stupid a character was, finished the movie and debated who the true villain was, the two were ready to hit the sack.

Villain dove onto Hero's well-made bed. "Dibs."

"Uh, no. Nope. You get the couch," Hero dropped a pile of pillows and blankets onto the couch. "Like a good guest."

"You know, we could both sleep on the bed."

"...do I even need to dignify that with a no?"

"Fine," Villain teasingly sighed, sliding off the bed and lying down on the couch. "Have it your way. We can both sleep on the couch."

Hero held the bridge of their nose. "Why would we ever do that?"

"More excuse to cuddle."

The blankets were pulled up to Hero's chin. "Goodnight, Villain."

"Night. Let me know if you change your mind about cuddling."

A couple of hours passed before a wail cut through the silent room and killed any dreams the pair had. Hero thrust their feet into their worn boots, blinking the sleep dust out of their eyes. They grabbed the familiar knife from under their bed and flinched as sirens echoed in the distance.

"Your neighbourhood's volume is broken," The villain murmured, pushing several couch cushions atop their ears. "Whas happening?"

"Go back to sleep."

"Mmkay."

The hero stuffed their limp mask into their pocket. "I'll be back soon."

"What?" The villain shot up, the blankets flying to the floor. "No."

The wails turned into full-on screams. Hero grabbed their worn jacket from its peg beside the door and fumbled for their keys in the dark. "My house, my rules."

"My future kingdom," Villain jumped over the couch and stood in front of the door. "My rules."

Hero's eyes narrowed at the sleep-dishevelled roadblock. "Get out of my way, Villain."

"Not until your quarantine is done."

"This is more important." Hero tried to step around and failed, electing to push past Villain for their next attempt. "Let me out."

"Shan't. Can't have you being a bad example for the kiddos."

"One of those kiddos could be in trouble."

"And you could get someone sick. Someone vulnerable. Or you could get hurt in your weakened state."

The screaming stopped. Hero pushed frantically against Villain, the shoving made misty by the blurriness rising in their eyes. "They need help!"

Villain grabbed Hero and spun them around. Hero let loose a strangled cry as their arms were trapped in a backwards bear hug. They stomped on Villain's feet with as much force as gravity gave them.

Villain hissed through gritted teeth. "Cut it out! You're not leaving. Look," they sighed, grip relaxing. "I'll send over a couple of my guys - they're staying nearby while I'm here."

"...you'd do that?"

"Well, they'd do that because I'm their boss." Villain fished out their phone and began texting one-handed, keeping the conversation visible in front of Hero. "Happy?"

Trust can be earned, or it can be awarded in the sliver of a moment.

"...thanks." Hero rested their head against the Villain's chest, their breathing returning to normal.

"Anything for you." The words were said so quietly, so honestly that Hero stiffened.

Instantly the arms were yanked back and hands thrust in pockets.

"Well." Villain avoided Hero's gaze. "Goodnight."

Hero nibbled on their lip as they watched Villain saunter off to the couch. "Wait-"

Was this a bad idea? Definitely. Were they still doing this…? "You're going the wrong way," they said lightly, aiming for the same upbeat tone as Villain often used. "Bed is this way."

Villain paused, tilting their head. "You serious?"

"Yeah." And oddly, the smile that split Villain's face brought one to their own. "But I'm using all the blankets."

"I'll just steal them when you're asleep. It's my villainous specialty."

They both dropped into bed, getting comfortable with a respectable distance between them. Hero turned to the side and closed their eyes. The light from the open window cast shadows over the apartment, dancing and flickering as the curtains moved in the wind.

"Hero," the villain's voice whispered from the darkness a few minutes later, "Why didn't you just call someone else? Why did you try to go out yourself?"

The hero's throat seized. They said nothing, staring into the dark shape of the room until they heard Villain's breathing change and body relax.

"I hear them in my sleep. The ones I don't save." The night listened to Hero's admission, just as it always had.

An arm wrapped around Hero's waist and hugged them tightly. Villain's chin rested on Hero's head as they stroked their arm in soothing motions.

The rest of the night was silent.

#hero #writing #my writing #snippet #villain #my snippet #heroes and villains #intruder #hero x villain #fluff #quarantine #angst #covid #part 2 #I'm giving them 2 days before the kiss #or 'accidentally' watch a horror movie and have to hold hands #sorry for the long wait!

400 notes · View notes

lifeofkaze · 4 years ago

Text

Cherry Blossoms

Neville Longbottom x Reader

A/N: Dear @nevilles-top you picked 🌸 and that’s what came of it. Enjoy Wifey C, love you loads 💛💚

Warning: NSFW, +18 only, exhibitionism (kinda?)

Word Count: ~ 1.900

Her neighbours had no decency.

Mrs. Poppy Wilson had always prided herself on living in a proper neighbourhood with proper families. But the new couple that had moved in next door had been a thorn in her side from the beginning. Well, they weren’t exactly new, they had moved in over a year ago; but they had been a source of aggravation ever since. Whenever she saw the two of them, they would touch each other, holding hands or even kiss in public. She wasn’t even sure they were married.

She was leaving her house on this egregiously hot day in late spring when the sound of cheerful whistling caught her attention. Peaking over the edge of her perfectly trimmed hedge, she saw her neighbour tending to blooming flowers in his front yard. Due to the heat, he wasn’t wearing a shirt. He looked perfectly scruffy and Mrs. Wilson stared at his exposed chest disdainfully, an indignant huff leaving her lips. Didn’t he care what people would think?

Startled at the sound, Neville Longbottom lifted his head and raised his hand in greeting with a mock smile as he saw his uptight old neighbour staring from beyond the edge of his garden. Not wanting to associate with the likes of him, Mrs. Wilson turned on her heel and marched off.

But Mrs. Wilson hadn’t been the only one observing the scene.

You watched the old hag make her way to her car before your attention turned back onto the sight unfolding before you. Neville had been working in the blazing heat for the better part of an hour now. You could see from your spot by the window kitchen how he wiped the sweat off his brow before lumping another sack of garden soil onto his worktable underneath the blossoming cherry tree dominating the place.

Neville had gotten the tree for you as a birthday present last year, because he knew how much you loved the sight of it in bloom. It had been way smaller back then, but of course Neville knew the odd trick to make it grow into a magnificent tree much faster than it would have under normal circumstances. It bloomed longer and brighter than others, often drawing wondrous glances from people passing by.

You watched in awe as he expertly tended to the plants he had been growing over the course of the winter. A shiver ran down your spine as you saw how tenderly he handled the small seedlings, imagining how his rough hands would feel on your heated skin right now.

Neville was fully concentrated on his task, the tip of his tongue, which you knew he could work wonders with, slightly peeking out between his luscious lips. Not being able to withstand his gravity any longer, you grabbed two glasses and a jug of lemonade, carefully bearing your charge outside on a tray.

His face instantly lit up as he saw you approaching. He gracefully accepted the drink you offered him, gulping the first glass down in mere seconds. You could imagine how hot his flushed skin must be from working in the sun, the speckled shadows of the branches of the cherry tree not casting a lot of shade.

As he poured himself another glass, he caught you staring.

“What?” he smirked, his mouth curving into that crooked smile that never failed to make your stomach dip.

“Nothing,” you mumbled, blushing a bright red. To overplay the situation, you hastily set your glass to your lips, letting the cool drink wash down your throat in deep gulps.

You heard Neville chuckle deeply as he set down his own glass, moving over to you.

“Someone seems thirsty today.”

You almost spit out your drink again. Coughing from surprise, you couldn’t help but stare at his lean arms that crossed in front of his chest. You didn’t get that kind of muscles from working out; they were shaped by the hard physical work Neville loved to do so much.

Noticing you were staring again, you knew you might as well be honest. “Can you blame me? I mean, look at you all being topless and scruffy like that,” you whined.

Neville’s smile widened and his eyes sparkled with amusement. “I meant the drink,” he laughed.

As he saw the shade of your face deepen, he reached for the belt you wore to cinch your dress in and hooked his finger under it, pulling you towards him.

“But if that is what you need...”

He didn’t finish his sentence but you wouldn’t have listened anyway. Your breath hitched as you felt Neville’s breath against your ear, then his lips on your neck as his mouth planted light, feathery kisses on your skin.

You sighed appreciatively at the tingling he left on your skin before you turned your head around to meet his lips. The kiss was tender at first, but it quickly deepened, desire rising in both of your chests. Neville moaned against your mouth as you nipped his bottom lip, grabbing you by the waist and turning you around. Without breaking your contact, he steered you backwards until your back hit the wooden wall of the tool shed next to the cherry tree.

A gasp escaped you as Neville’s hands travelled down your sides, firmly gripping your thighs and hoisting you up, now only held up by his body and the shed behind you. You wrapped your legs around him and buried your hands in his hair, feeling his growing erection press against you.

The support he gave you suddenly shifted as he let go of one of your thighs to nestle with the clasp of your holder-neck dress. It quickly came undone and Neville lost no time in pulling it down, exposing your bare chest to the sunlight. You dipped your head back as his tongue teasingly played with one of your nipples, while a gentle breeze caressed your bare skin.

“What about the neighbours?” you barely manage to rasp out, concentration rapidly dwindling at Neville gently sucking on your tits.

“They’re out,” Neville hummed, the vibration of his words making you shudder.

All your concerns were drowned in a cry of pleasure as Neville’s hand pushed the hem of your dress up further and let this thumb run over your clit through the fabric of your panties. He knew exactly how to touch you to drive you absolutely mad.

Your hands still tangled in his hair gripped tighter and you bit down on where his shoulder and his neck connected; not hard, but hard enough to coax a hungry groan from your man.

There was nothing but heat now, around you from the blazing sun, inside you from the rhythmic circles Neville’s skilled fingers were drawing. As he noticed your squirming against him, he withdrew his hand.

“Slowly now, doll,” he growled into your ear. “I don’t want to miss out on all the fun.”

He set you down to let you remove your panties. You immediately grabbed his hand, pulling him into the direction of the door to the shed. You didn’t think you could wait any longer to feel him inside you.

But Neville didn’t move. He pulled you back towards him, the fly of his jeans now open; he hadn’t pulled his trousers down more than he had to. At the sight of his hard cock waiting for you, you bit your lower lip, anticipation coursing through your body like an electric surge.

“Come on, now,” you whined impatiently, but Neville shook his head.

“The weather’s beautiful darling. I want to feel the sun on my back when I do you in by every trick in the book.

With that his arms encircled you again. He pushed you back against the wall and groaned as you propped one of your legs up on the nearby table, granting him unobstructed access to your dripping pussy.

“What are you waiting for then?” you moaned, knowing full well how to turn your man on even more.

With a flash in his eyes, Neville buried his face in your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin as he pushed his cock inside you. By now, you were so wet for him, he didn’t lose any time by waiting for you to adjust, but started pounding into you in a demanding rhythm that took your breath away.

The breeze from before had picked up, sending a shower of light pink flowers down on you. You would have laughed at the cheesy scenery of you being fucked by Neville in a whirl of blossoms, but you didn’t even notice.

Everything around you had faded, everything but Neville and the way your laboured breaths came in unison with the grinding of your bodies against each other. Your head swam with passion, and you raked your nails across Neville’s bare back as you felt your release draw nearer.

After a few more thrusts the knot that had been building inside your stomach was close to bursting, when you suddenly heard the door of a car slam shut and the unmistakable scuffing step of your nosey neighbour drawing nearer.

You slowed down for a brief second, knowing full well the drama that would ensue if she saw the two of you getting it off in your garden.

But you were so close and Neville, sensing your hesitation, locked eyes with you, holding your gaze. He held a finger to his lips, motioning for you to be silent, all the while maintaining the constant rhythm of his thrusts.

He brought his hand down and laid it on your clit again, rubbing over your sweet spot with his thumb. You couldn’t keep it together any longer. Your orgasm exploded with might, the waves of pleasure making you shiver uncontrollably, threatening to drown you. You clung to Neville for dear life, your head filled with his scent of earth and sunscreen and passion.

Neville silenced your muffled cry of pleasure with a searing kiss, your body shuddering against him and the feeling of your walls tightening around his cock sending him over the edge as well. He groaned against your mouth, all care forgotten.

Mrs. Wilson was annoyed.

Not only had she missed her train into town and had been forced to return home early, she was still flustered at the audacity of her neighbour’s shirtless gardening antics.

When she entered her front yard, she furrowed her brow. If she hadn’t known any better, she could have sworn she had heard a muffled scream from the other side of the thick hedge separating their gardens.

What were those unruly people up to again?

With determination she marched to the spot where she knew the foliage of the hedge was thin enough to look through.

And sure enough, as she peeked through the bushes, she saw her neighbours both outside now, sitting at the wooden worktable under their outrageously blooming cherry tree. They were sipping lemonade and stole kisses now and again.

She huffed indignantly, the sound of it drawing their attention. As they saw her face through the gap in the hedge, they raised their glasses in salute, laughing more happily than they had any right to.

As they started kissing again, Mrs. Wilson turned around and rolled her eyes.

She’d had enough of these people.

No decency whatsoever.

#neville longbottom smut #get better soon wifey c

143 notes · View notes

tomtenadia · 4 years ago

Text

A Little Braver - Chapter 14

It’s Monday and it’s new chapter time.

First of all... the gif above is one of the most hilarious scenes in Top Gun, so when i started writing this chapter I knew I had to re-enact it. The manoeuvre is called buzz the tower.

This chapter is a moment of respite from what’s going to happen next. it’s a bit angsty at the beginning, but then it gets lighter.

CW: hurt/comfort, PTSD, panic attacks, and also a bit NSFW,

Enjoy

----------

She was in a room, of that she was sure. The heat was becoming unbearable by the second and the smoke enveloped her in a tight grip. Her eyes burned and she felt lost. Everywhere she looked there was smoke. Slowly she walked to a door and once she opened she saw fire. She walked in. She had to find him. She moved a step and her skin felt on fire. She walked and walked.

“Help,” she heard a male voice. She moved towards it. But when she found the person she noticed it was too late. She could still recognise his features: Sam. He was dead and she was too late. She started running as the tongues of fire chased her and the sense of being lost got worse. She ran and collided with something metallic. It was a plane. Its wings were broken, the canopy smashed. She noticed a figure in it. She walked to the aircraft and her heart stopped when she noticed the silver hair: Row— an explosion filled her ears.

Aelin woke with a scream, she threw the duvet aside and launched herself off the bed, crashing on the floor and then ran for the bathroom to empty the contents of her stomach in the toilet. Over and over again. Tears pricked her eyes and she noticed her hands shake visibly. Exhausted, Aelin plopped on the floor and let the tears fall. It was just a bad dream. Just a bad dream. But she could still smell Sam’s charred skin and the odour of kerosene. Her sobs intensified and when she started hyperventilating she realised a panic attack was building up.

“Rowan…” she called but remembered too late that he had gone out with Aedion. She tried to bring her breathing under control but failed and the sense of terror grew stronger. Slowly, trembling she dragged herself back to the bedroom and once she reached the nightstand, with trembling hands, grabbed her phone and called Rowan.

His answer was immediate “hey you, miss me already?”

Aelin could not reply straight away, she tried to calm her breathing “I…” she started sobbing again “I am scared.” Was all she managed before her sobs took over completely.

“Aelin, where are you?” Rowan’s voice was panicked “Are you at home?”

He and Aedion had driven her home before going for their night out.

“Yes…” he voice barely audible.

“I am on my way.” And he closed the conversation.

Aelin dropped the phone and collapsed exhausted on the floor.

Rowan had cut his night short and drove back home like a madman. He should have never left her alone. He knew she was suffering from nightmare and panic attacks. But the idea of going out with Aedion had been very tempting. They had a great night and they had a fascinating chat that helped him a lot. His heart raced and growled at every single set of traffic lights. He had to be back home quickly. Aedion had mentioned to keep an eye on Aelin for PTSD. He hadn’t told the man that Aelin was already showing two symptoms. The nightmares and the fact that at night she struggled to sleep. He was getting really worried and his finger tapped nervously on the steering wheel.

He finally made it home and ran in the house, sprinted to the bedroom and found Aelin on the floor. Her mobile had slipped from her hands. He hoisted her in his arms and took her to the bed noticing her clammy skin. Gently he deposited her on the bed and went to the bathroom to grab a cloth. With it he brushed her face and cleaned it. She had been sick. He stood again and went to grab a fresh pair of pyjama and changed her making sure not to cause any more injury to her arm. Gently he tucked her under the blanket. She was sleeping and he did not want to wake her. He kissed her head and then he went to get himself ready for bed. Once he joined her under the blankets he pulled her to his chest and enveloped her body with his. His strong arms looped around her frame and his leg draped over hers in a protective embrace.

It was early morning when he woke, kissed Aelin’s head and brushed her blonde hair away from her face. She had managed to sleep throughout the night and he relaxed. She must have been exhausted after whatever happened. He imagined she had another nightmare and a panic attack. She was his brave and fierce Fireheart and it destroyed him to see her like that.

Rowan felt her move and slowly shift to awareness, her body turned and blue, beautiful eyes met his.

“Morning.” He smiled at her and kissed her briefly.

“You are here.” Her hand brushed his face.

“Of course I am here.”

“You…” but she stopped and shook her head “it’s nothing.” And she turned.

“What is it, Aelin?”

“Nothing.” She repeated and curled in a foetal position turning her back to him “you will leave me eventually. Everyone does.” He heard her cry.

He rolled her over and made sure she faced him “I am not going anywhere.”

“You will leave me, just like Sam did…” she whispered against his chest “and I will be alone again.”

His heart ached painfully. He wanted to make her a promise that he would always come back but his job was just as dangerous as hers and he could not utter that promise and lie to her.

“Do you want me to give up my job?”

She looked up at him “no.” she kissed him “no, I could never ask you that. No matter how much it scares me.” She leaned a bit more into him “Just come back to me.”

“It will be my pleasure.”

They remained in bed holding each other for a while. Aelin had told him about her nightmare and telling him felt good.

Rowan looked at his phone and groaned “damn I need to go to work.”

Her face turned sad and he kissed her pout away, then he had an idea “Come with me.”

“Uh?”

“You are still a consultant. I know that Lorcan has continued our project with Aedion. But you can come and see for yourself what we have done.” Then he gave her a big smile “you can see me fly as well. The guys and I will be probably running some drills as well as we have a performance review coming.”

The smile that she gave him almost made his heart melt. With renewed energy she jumped off the bed, ran to his side and began pulling him out of bed “come on, shower and we are going.”

“Fine, fine,” he complained and dragged himself out of bed, then he grabbed her and carried her to the bathroom sack of potato style. Aelin trashed in his arms, he pinched her buttocks in reply and she squealed. He deposited her in the bathroom and once free he started to undress and Aelin stared at him while leaning against the sink with a wanton smile on her face.

She peeled off her clothes and walked to him. Her hands brushed his chest, following the lines of his tattoo and then her tongue traced the same path. He folded his arms around her and pushed her in the shower and opened the jets. Another step and she was pinned to the wall. Aelin looked up at him “I do love a good wall in the morning.”

In a second his mouth was on hers, a hard demanding kiss. Her mouth opened to him and his tongue brushed against hers “well, let’s try and not disappoint you.” He pulled her legs around him and with one thrust he was in her.

The shower took longer than expected but it had put Aelin in a better mood and that’s all he cared about. He was getting ready in his uniform and smiled when Aelin hugged him from behind “What?” He asked softly while tying his tie.

“Thank you for being at my side last night.”

Rowan stiffened “I should have been with you all night, but I didn’t.”

Aelin placed a kiss on his back “but you came back straight away and it helped. In your arms I slept peacefully. You made me feel safe.”

“Well,” he turned and faced her “I need to make sure we do that every night.”

Aelin nodded and went to her side of the closet to grab her clothes “did you have a nice time with Aedion?”

“I did. And he helped. He went through this a few times and well, it felt good to talk with someone who could fully understand.” Then he stopped and looked at her “I don’t mean that you can’t. You have been supportive and amazing.”

Aelin stepped up to him “I know, but Aedion has been in the military. I haven’t. He can help you talk about things I might not understand. That’s why I asked him to take you out.”

“Thank you.” He said leaning over for a kiss “Are you ready?”

Aelin twirled in front of him, she just had jeans and a hoodie and he still thought she was the most stunning creature he had ever seen “I am, captain. All ready to see my top gun in action.”

My. Rowan felt a tug of deep joy at hearing her using that possessive for him. Since she forced the topic after the opera he realised that he had been fooling himself when he tried to convince himself he had no deep feelings for her. He wanted her. To be with her. To commit to her. And he was going to show her just how much.

He took her hand and together they walked out of the house.

They arrived at the base not long after “do you have your badge?” He told her as they reached the first check point.

Aelin fished it out of her bag and showed it to him.

“Captain,” the man in the booth said acknowledging Rowan “captain.” He added towards Aelin.

They drove through the second check point without being stopped and then Rowan parked in the staff car park. Aelin put her lanyard with her badge around her neck and followed Rowan inside, taking his hand.

They walked into his office and Aelin took in the room. She had been inside the first time she had visited him but not bothered to notice anything around. The place looked immaculate and super organised. A big filing cabinet at his back and a bookshelf full with books. Aelin went to have a look and discovered they were all books about flying. Then at the top of the shelf she noticed metal planes all lined up.

“This one,” he said, pointing to a plane with propellers “it’s called a spitfire. It’s quite an epic one.”

“Did you fly it?”

Rowan laughed “No, it’s an old plane. I wasn’t even born when it was used but it’s just gorgeous.”

“It looks cool,” said Aelin looking at the other models.

“These are some of the other planes I have flown.” He pointed to the remainder ones.

“And this?” She took in her hand the model of an aircraft carrier.

“That is the first aircraft carrier I have served on. I met some great people there.” And lost a lot as well, but he did not say that out loud. “It was my first mission and like a proper newbie I was all excited and eager to prove myself.”

Aelin smiled and then her eyes noticed a picture on the wall behind his desk “is that you?”

Rowan nodded and walked closer to her “the day I graduated from the academy. I was nineteen.”

She took his hand feeling the anguish in his voice “you look quite dashing.”

“I felt smug as fuck and invincible. I had finished the academy at the top. I came out number one.”

“Such a nerd.” She gave him a smile.

He turned her and grabbed her shoulders “don’t tell me that you were not a competitive brat at the academy.”

“I was the only woman at the time. I had to fight twice as much. I showed them all and I finished at the top as well and I made captain well before some of the morons who thought that they were better than me because they allegedly, had the correct reproductive apparatus.”

Rowan snorted and Aelin glared at him “don’t tell me you are one of those because I am going to dump your arse so hard you have no idea.”

He kissed her “No. I have been fighting with Lorcan for a while to get women to serve in the airforce if they want to. The navy has them, the army does as well. We are the only corp that doesn’t and I have been losing this battle for a while. Lorcan is one of those and since he doesn’t believe in the fact that women should be allowed in the airforce he never brings the fight to the higher levels.”

She kissed him and she felt like her heart could explode with love for him.

“He really is an arsehole.”

“I am not his biggest fan either recently.”

“Can’t you take the fight higher up? Go over his head?”

Rowan sighed “we are run by a bunch of old fashioned mummies who are even more retrograde than Lorcan.”

Aelin was about to reply when someone knocked at the door. At Rowan’s invitation she saw the man called Gavriel enter the room “We are all ready to go. We got clearance from the tower and the guys are getting changed now.” Then he noticed Aelin and gave her a big smile “hello, captain.”

“Hello, Commander,” she greeted him remembering his rank. She had liked the man from the start.

Rowan kissed her “I’ll be back in ten minutes. I need to get changed. I’ll come and get you.”

Aelin nodded and he left with Gavriel.

“So, you finally decided to do the right thing,” said the other man to Rowan.

“Uh?”

“Stop grieving and being scared and finally try to be happy.”

Rowan gave him a tight smile “she is worth it.”

Aelin waited in his office and when she got bored she grabbed one of his books about flight and started reading. She had been doing some research on her own to understand his job a bit more. She grabbed one that seemed to start from the basics and began reading how a plane did manage to stay in the air. She was so engrossed in the book that she missed him coming back. When she lifted her eyes she saw him standing in front of her in his flight suit. Gods, he was… she had so many naughty thoughts crossing her mind.

“What are you reading?” He asked her, noticing the book abandoned on the desk.

“Oh…” she cleared her voice “just discovering how a plane can stay up.”

Rowan laughed “four forces: thrust, lift, drag and push or gravity” he told her with a smug smile and then he offered her his hand “come on.”

She followed him and they walked to the hangar and every so often she checked him out. In the jump suit he was even hotter than usual.

They entered the hangar and Aelin noticed a lot of people swarming around the five jets “the engineers are getting the planes ready,” he explained her as they got closer to his.

They stopped and Rowan got to open the canopy and finished to dress by adding what he had told her was a G suit used to help with the pressure with manoeuvres where they had to pull a lots of Gs. She stared at him doing all the checks to his suit and then gave a man at her side the thumb up.

“This is Greg,” said Rowan nodding at the man at their side “he is my engineer. Once we are ready to go he will take you to the observation tower.”

Aelin smiled. She was really going to see him fly.

“Give me a have fun kiss,” he said leaning into her.

Aelin brushed his hair and kissed him deeply, then she broke the kiss and her forehead was against his “Be safe.”

He kissed her nose “I love you,” he said very softly.

He left her and climbed into his jet. She studied him finishing to don his helmet, do some checks and then he waved at her. He gave Greg a thumbs up and Aelin saw some other people take the jet away. No taxi, she corrected herself using the right term.

“Miss, you can come with me. They are taxing out and it’s going to get loud in here.”

Aelin nodded and followed the man, casting a glance ever so often to where Rowan had disappeared.

They climbed up the tower and Aelin gasped at the view. She could see the jets lined up on the runaway.

“They are waiting for final clearance from the tower. They will go that way for a bit, but eventually will come back here.” He passed her a pair of binoculars “these are handy.”

Aelin thanked him.

“Don’t leave until someone comes back to collect you. Probably captain Whitethorn will come himself. You are safe up here.” He explained her and Aelin nodded.

The man disappeared and she leaned against the wall. She stared at the jets and then realised she had no idea how to tell them apart.

One at a time all the jets took off, they disappeared at the horizon and eventually came back a flew by the tower. One of them rolled its wings up and down and she had a feeling that was Rowan.

She giggled and grabbed the binoculars.

A moment later she felt a presence at her side. Lorcan had joined her with a thermos of coffee in his hands “Enjoying the view?” He asked in a bored tone.“The fun should start soon. Whitethorn is probably explaining the parameters of the exercise and creating the two teams, that’s why they are still in formation. As soon as the game starts you will see them veer up and break into two groups.”

“How can you tell them apart?”

“Habit.”

Aelin rolled her eyes.

“Whitethorn is that one,” he pointed at the jet at the head of the formation.

“That’s it.” Said Lorcan and Aelin saw the team break apart like he had told her.

Lorcan brought out a radio and he changed to a channel that allowed him to listen to radio chatter of his pilots.

“Do you do this often? Coming up here and watch them, I mean.”

“Every time they are out. I am not as much as a monster as the captain depicts me.” He sighed and looked at his pilots “I care about them. They are my team.” then he chuckled and pointed at the jets in the air “Fenrys is already trying to get a lock on Whitethorn. Can you see how he is flying?”

Aelin followed the scene with interest and the radio went silent as the man probably concentrated on their job.

“Moonbeam is sneaky but there is a reason why Whitethorn is the best.”

“I got your arse, Iceman.” She heard Fenrys over the radio. Then something amazing happened. She saw the jet in front of the young lieutenant pull up in a vertical and breaking and letting the other jet pass him the he pulled down and Rowan ended up behind him and over the radio she heard a noise.

“Another time, wolf.” She heard Rowan laugh and the sound warmed her heart “you can sit this one out, pup.”

“That was awesome.” Said Aelin in awe.

“Whitethorn is not an easy one to get. I think in many years of drills only Gavriel managed the feat a few times. And we all believe it was because well, he was not himself.”

Aelin had an inkling she knew when that was.

“I think he needs this today. Losing that student has sent him back to a dark place.”

“How so?” Asked Aelin curious.

“Not my story to tell.”

They went back watching the exercise “that is a high G barrel roll, isn’t it?” She remembered it from thew video.

“Well done, captain.”

“Rowan has told me about some manoeuvres.”

“You see why he did that?” Lorcan pointed at the jets.

Aelin nodded, “the plane behind him is too close for comfort so that is an option to shake him off.”

Lorcan nodded “That is Gavriel. He probably painted him once already and had Rowan’s tail and a firing solution as well so Rowan pulled that manoeuvre to get rid of him and succeeded.”

“That’s Connall being his wingman. And Vaughan is with Gavriel.”

Then she gasped. Rowan had just flew in between Vaughan and Gavriel in a vertical line then she saw him bank and get back in formation.

“That’s Connall gone as well. It’s just Whitethorn against Vaughan and Gavriel.”

Gavriel was fast and sneaky. Even someone like her could see that.

Rowan was on his own but Lorcan did not seem worried. His planes flew mere metres from a second one, their bellies almost touching. He rolled away and then pulled into a dive chasing the plane that was trying to escape. He stood at the other person’s tail playing chase until she heard over the radio curses coming from Vaughan and she knew the man was out as well.

“Now things get interesting.” Commented Lorcan who seemed cheerier all of a sudden.

“Rowan told me you are against the idea of having females in the airforce.”

His face turned hard again “I was just starting to like you, captain.”

“What is your problem with our gender?”

“You cannot do that.” He pointed at the fight scene in front of them.

“That is exactly what I heard all throughout the academy. I was the only woman at the time. I was told I did not have what it took. That as a woman my body could not sustain the heavy training regime, that I had no chance of becoming just as good a firefighter as a man. They thought that me being born with a vagina prevented me from being a firefighter.” She explained, not removing her gaze from the two remaining planes “I proved them all wrong, sir. I finished the academy at the top of my class. I set the record in one of the exercises and no one has broken it just yet. I made captain before many of those pricks and I am still to this day the only woman who did so.”

“This is a dangerous job.”

Aelin scoffed and showed him her bandaged arm “I almost died after running into a building on fire. And I do that on a daily basis. Don’t talk to me about a dangerous job.”

Lorcan breathed out “you made your point.”

“Elide has her own ideas as well on the matter. She might be tiny but she is one scary woman.”

His face all of a sudden lost its hard edges. Oh look, the man had feelings.

“She is quite an amazing woman.” He confessed.

“You’d better remember that.”

“She told me about… her past.”

Aelin knew. Elide had told them.

“It doesn’t bother me. I mean, it bothers me what the fucker did to her but not that she… has no experience.”

“Good, because Elide is very nervous about all that stuff.”

“When she is ready.”

Aelin nodded and went back to the fight. It looked like Rowan was trying to get on Gavriel’s tail. The older man pulled into a vertical but Rowan never left him. Aelin stared at the climb and wondered how many Gs they were pulling. The jet flew with the canopies facing each others. Aelin then noticed Rowan’s plane break formation. Pull, again the strange breaking manoeuvre and make a precise loop that landed right on Gavriel’s tail.

A moment later she heard the long beeping sound and soon after a barrage of curses from Gavriel.

“That was damn sneaky.”

Aelin laughed and waved at him, not sure he could see her “That was awesome.”

“Oh, they are not done yet. Rowan’s drills are quite intense. We are in for much more fun. Now they all want revenge.” Added Lorcan leaning again against the wall and taking a sip of coffee from his thermos.

“He really is good.”

Lorcan nodded “he was the best since flight school. And his cool temper helps him to be great in a situation of great stress. That’s why we have been fighting recently. He has been rash and impulsive. That is not him.”

Aelin did not make any comments on that.

“Rowan and I have known each other for a very long time, since we were both still in Doranelle.” He told her “he is very respectful of rank and etiquette but with me and in private he had always spoken his mind and a few times he had pegged me down a few notches. We both have clashing tempers and it tends to end badly at times.” He sighed “I had no intention of suspending him but I had to. And I have a feeling he looked for a fight on purpose to get suspended. To be with you.”

Aelin gasped. She was not expecting such revelation. She had assumed Lorcan had followed the rules.

“I hope you realise he put his career in jeopardy for you. A captain pulling a stunt like that and breaking aerospace lockdown was bad. And leaving his post at the airbase in Doranelle was just as bad.”

“I am grateful that he did, though. I might be selfish but he helped me greatly and he is still doing it.”

“Don’t fuck up his life, captain. One woman did it already and I think it’s enough.”

Lorcan’s words toward Lyria sounded quite harsh.

The exercise eventually came to an end but Lorcan stood there with her.

She heard Rowan ordering the team to go back to base.

“Tower, this is Iceman, requesting permission for a flyby.”

“Request denied, Iceman.”

“Get your arse back to base, Whitethorn,” shouted Lorcan over the comms.

Aelin stared at Rowan’s jet, the only one still in the air and looked at the very strange trajectory.

Then it was a matter of a second and a deafening noise startled her and a second later she heard a curse. Lorcan had spilled his hot coffee on his uniform and was now threatening the worst punishments for Rowan. She wanted to laugh but she restrained herself.

“Let’s go back down, captain. Your boyfriend is in for a treat.”

They got back inside and by the time they were back in the hangar the five jets were parked as well and Rowan was complimenting his team for a nice training session.

“Whitethorn.” Shouted Lorcan marching up to him “The tower clearly denied you the flyby. What is your problem?”

His green eyes landed on her and she saw a flash of amusement in them.

“I should ask you the same thing, sir. Your uniform needs a change.” With his head he pointed at the stained clothing.

“Your arse in my office. Now.”

Rowan stood to attention and followed Lorcan. He looked at Aelin and winked at her.

“Did you enjoy that, captain?” It was Gavriel’s voice at her side.

“Immensely. It was super fun to watch.” She sighed “I know that when you guys do it for real is not fun, but this drill was awesome.”

She turned to where Rowan and Lorcan had disappeared and got worried “Will he be okay?”

It was Connall who answered “they will yell at each other for a while. Lorcan will call the captain reckless. Explain to him what regulations say with regard to the dear practice of buzzing the tower.”

“What’s buzzing the tower?” She interrupted not recognising the expression.

“The manoeuvre the captain did. It’s a very low pass made to startle or frighten someone. The noise of the jets, as you have experienced is quite high. The captain knew the commodore was with you and very likely had coffee.”

“It was a stupid thing to do.” Added Gavriel not happy “he knows that manoeuvre is dangerous.”

“Let the man have some fun. With all the shit that is going on he has been in a foul mood.”

Gavriel growled at Fenrys “first of all, our job is not to have fun. If that’s what you want, well I have got news for you, boyo. You are in the wrong job.” Gavriel moved closer to the young lieutenant “the captain has lost a student. Have some fucking respect for someone who is grieving.”

Gavriel shouted some orders to the ground crew and moved away “it was a pleasure to see you again, captain.”

She waved back at the man. She liked him. The three young men followed as well.

Not knowing what to do she found her way back to his office, thinking it to be the best and safest option. He came back to her half an hour later and he did not seem too mad.

“Are you two still alive?” She asked him as he walked into the office and lay down on the sofa.“Yeah, he is still alive. I told him to fuck off only once.”

She stood from his chair and walked to him “buzzing the tower was not a great idea.”

He looked at her with curiosity.

She tilted her head “they guys explained the manoeuvre to me.

He stood, closed the distance and his arms went around her waist “I was saying hi to you…” he kissed her “and when I saw Lorcan I knew he’d have coffee with him. He always does.” He kissed her again “and can I add how much of a turn on is when you use technical terms?”

“You are evil.” She poked him in the chest.

“No news there,” another kiss “did you enjoy the show?”

“It was awesome. So, so awesome. And you are quite incredible, captain. And I also recognised one of the manoeuvres from the book you were reading on the beach.” She told him all excited.

“Which one?”

They were so close their bodies were now touching “the high G barrel roll when Gavriel painted you.”

His jump suit was unzipped down till his navel and her hands landed on the t-shirt he wore underneath and he had the suit sleeves rolled to his elbows. He was stunning.

“So… so turned on just now…”

She pressed against him, his hands found their way in her hair and pulled her close for a hot kiss.

“I have so many naughty thoughts as well…”

“And I feel like breaking another rule…” he whispered in her ear and Aelin felt heat pool at her core.

He went to the door and locked it and when he turned he saw that Aelin had removed her hoodie and t-shirt and was sitting on his desk with just trousers and a bra.

Rowan closed the distance in a second, and his mouth claimed hers with an intensity that took Aelin off guard. She had quickly learned that sex with him was never boring and that the man had the power to reduce her to an exhausted mess. Not that she complained…

“I love naughty Rowan,” she teased with a finger on her lips. He moved between her legs, pulling her closer and took the finger in his mouth sucking it and licking it suggestively.

Aelin removed her bra and heard his gasp, then she proceeded to free him from the jump suit and leave him in his black briefs and his grey TAF t-shirt. She looked down and discovered him hard for her. He grabbed the back of his shirt and tugged it off.

“Are we doing something about those trousers, captain?”

Aelin smiled and slowly and with provocation unbuttoned her jeans and started lowering the zip. In a swift motion he pulled them down and away, taking her underwear with them, leaving Aelin stark naked “in a rush, captain?”

He bit her earlobe “the door might be locked, but people might still come and look for me.”

“Well, we better be quiet and pretend there is no one in the office.” And she kissed him eliciting a moan from him “I said quiet, captain.”

Aelin jumped off the table and a moment later was on her knees in front of him. Her hands grabbed his butt and then pulled down his briefs “lean against the table, sir.” He did so and a moment later her mouth was on him and he had to restrain himself to stifle the loud moan that threatened to escape from him. She looked up at him in his green eyes and with her tongue licked the tip.

“Fuck,” swore Rowan never breaking eye contact with her. She looked at him and could see lust in his eyes. Her tongue licked the length of him and then she took him in her mouth fully and Rowan let out another curse “If you…” his hands tightened on the desk when she added a hand “continue like this I might not— ” and his protest was cut off when she gently added teeth as well. She still looked at him in challenge and then sucked hard and that was Rowan’s undoing. He pulled her up and deposited her on the desk on her back, her legs wrapped around his waist.

“You wicked, wicked woman…” he told her silencing her protests with a sizzling kiss while a finger slipped into her and Aelin’s back arched at the feeling he coaxed from her. With her legs, she pushed him closer and felt his hardness nudging at her entrance and pulled a bit more as if to tell him what she wanted. He kissed her and his finger hooked inside her teasing that sensitive spot inside her.

“Whitethorn,”she ordered him.

“Such a demanding woman,” and with those words he pushed into her and Aelin had to cover her mouth with her hands to stop the indecent moan that was about to escape from her.

It hadn’t take them long to reach their peaks and now Rowan was leaning on top of an equally spent Aelin. It had been short and intense.

He kissed the space between breasts “I didn’t even have time to greet your friends here,” he added posing gentle kisses on each breasts.

She pulled him in for a kiss “it’s okay… this woman here feels very pleased and satisfied.”

He smiled at her “we better get dressed again. Just in case.” Very quickly they got their clothes back on then Aelin walked to him “I blame the jump suit.”

He raised an eyebrow “not the amazing content inside?”

She kissed him “the jump suit makes the content tastier.”

“Come on,” he took her hand, unlocked the door and walked out of the office “I promised to show you what we did.”

Aelin squeezed his hand and followed him. He took her around the airbase and they covered all the places that she had mentioned needed changes. The works on hangar bay 2 were almost over and the place was still empty but in far batter shape that last time she had seen it. Aelin walked closer to the walls and touched them “fire retardant paint?”

Rowan nodded “Aedion suggested it. The whole of hangar 2 is painted in it. And once the works here are all done, we will do the same in the main hangar.” She walked around impressed that they had taken on board every single suggestion she had made “I am impressed, captain. The place looks amazing.”

“Given the budget we got, Lorcan had ordered to do the same in the main hangar.”

“So, the man can do his job. Good to know.”

Rowan took her around the rest of the base and Aelin approved of what she had seen.

“What time is your doctor appointment?” Asked Rowan as they got back to his office.

“I will need to go soon.”

“Will you text me?” He asked her brushing a wild lock of hair from her face.

“I will let you know.”

She had a meeting with a doctor about her return to work. She knew it was only for desk duty but the idea of going back at the station was quite exciting.

Rowan pulled her into an embrace “go get them.” In response she kissed him.

“Don’t kill Lorcan, captain.”

He gave her a huge grin and she left.

-------

the gif above gives you an idea of one of the trick our bird boy pulled.

TAGS:

@rowaelinismyotp

@jlinez

@swankii-art-teacher

@courtofjurdan

@whimsicallyreading

@tillyrubes10

#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #aelin galythinius #fanfic #my writing

64 notes · View notes

sukifans · 5 years ago

Text

HELP ME // sokka

WARNINGS: language, a Bug

WC: 3.3k

A/N: a little somethin somethin for @fromthewatertribe’s 1k event! i had a lot of fun doing this drabble. i used 2 (“please help me”) and 8 (“i thought you loved me”) for this bad boy that definitely got away from me lmao

⇦ 𝘔𝘈𝘚𝘛𝘌𝘙𝘓𝘐𝘚𝘛

Panic surged through Sokka when he checked his phone and saw he had about twenty missed calls from you over the past ten minutes. Just as he was about to call back, your contact photo popped up on the screen accompanied by the duck quack ringtone you’d set for yourself ages ago.

“I’ll be back,” he mumbled to Zuko, who nodded absently while preparing a customer’s tea. He stepped out the back of the Jasmine Dragon and slid his thumb across the screen. “Hello?”

“SOKKA, THANK FUCK!” You sounded like you were crying on the other end. He frowned, pulling the phone away from his ear in response to your screech.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Where are you?” he demanded over the ruckus of your wails. His hand dropped to his car keys in his pocket, ready to leave if you needed him.

“I’M AT HOME AND THERE’S A R-ROACH IN—“

Sokka groaned. “(Y/N), I’m at work. I cannot come kill a bug for you.”

Your blubbering paused. “B-But... I need help! And no one else will help me! Please help me!”

“As much as I want to help you I can’t right now, princess. I can swing by after we close in about an hour, though.”

You made a strangled sort of screaming sound and hung up. He brought his hand down, staring at his screen in surprise. The line was busy when he tried to call you back, so he pocketed his phone with a sigh and headed back inside.

Zuko was speaking on the store phone with someone when he got back to the front, making a face like he had just eaten something sour or smelled something foul. Sokka shot him a questioning look as he tied his apron back around his waist and Zuko beckoned him over.

“What’s up?” Sokka asked in a low voice.

“Just go,” Zuko huffed. “I can finish closing by myself and she said she won’t stop calling us until you help her.”

“Wh- give me that.” He took the landline receiver from Zuko. “Seriously, (Y/N)?”

“I’M FREAKING THE FUCK OUT, SOKKA!”

“It’s a bug!”

“IT’S FUCKING HUGE AND IT’S IN MY FUCKING ROOM, PLEASE GET OVER HERE! I NEED YOU!”

He made eye contact with Zuko and his friend just shook his head. “Fine, okay, you win. I’m on my way.”

She hiccuped. “You’re the best friend I could ever ask for, Sokka. I love you. Please hurry.”

“Yeah, yeah. Love you, too, princess,” he grumbled before hanging up. Zuko was watching him with raised eyebrows. “Oh, fuck off, dude.”

“I didn’t say anything.” He tried to hide his smirk by turning away to wipe down the counter.

“Don’t look so smug.” He smacked the back of his friend’s head after he threw his apron in the laundry bag.

“Hey!” Zuko punched his shoulder. “It’s not my fault you’re whipped for (Y/N) and too much of a pussy to make a move.”

“You’re fucking lucky I’m whipped and have to go kill a bug for my girl otherwise I’d kick your ass, Zuko.” He flipped him the middle finger as he headed out the door, keys in his other hand.

“Later, princess.” Zuko twiddled his fingers mockingly in goodbye. Sokka scoffed as he left, shaking his head and muttering under his breath. Yeah, he was whipped for you. He was wrapped securely and comfortably around your pinky finger. So what? It wasn’t like he had plans to do anything about it. He was perfectly happy being your friend — your best friend, in your own words. No way in hell would he risk fucking that up and losing you.

When he banged on your apartment door you simply yelled from inside that it was unlocked. It was hard to suppress a laugh at the scene that greeted him. You were curled up on your kitchen counter, hood of your sweatshirt drawn tight around your head so only your nose and eyes were visible and a can of bug spray in your trembling hand. Your tear-streaked face lit up when you saw him and it made his heart clench in his chest.

“Hey, princess.”

“Sokka!” You dropped the can and threw yourself at him. He caught you in his arms with a grunt and you wrapped your legs around his middle, clinging to his neck. His hands supported your back to keep you upright. “God, I’ve never been so happy to see you in my life. I could fucking kiss you right now.”

He had to recover quickly from almost choking on air in order to keep his composure. “Just doing my manly best friend duties.” He gulped when you slid down his body. Your feet hit the floor again but you still held onto him. “Alright, where’s the big bad bug?”

You glared up at him for his teasing. “My room. I was about to go take a shower when it fucking flew at my face! I don’t even know where it came from!”

“Stand by, princess,” he ruffled your hair and pulled off one of his sneakers to wield as a bludgeon, “I’ve got it all under control.” You rolled your eyes a bit when he puffed his chest out and flexed comically. You released him from your vice grip so he could stalk up to the closed door of your bedroom. Of course, you stayed planted firmly in the kitchen and watched from a distance.

“Be careful,” you warned, “it’s literally the biggest roach I’ve ever seen.”

“It may be big, but I’m bigger. And smarter.” He tapped his temple with his finger.

“I don’t know about that second part,” you giggled. He shot you a withering look.

“Do you want me to kill this thing or not?”

“Yes, sorry! You are so very strong and intelligent and handsome, Sokka. Much more strong and intelligent and handsome than the roach.”

“You know what? I’ll take that compliment.” He winked at you, sending your heart into your throat. You stuck your tongue out and made a face to hopefully hide how flustered you were.

“Stop flirting and kill the fucking bug!”

“You started it!”

“Sokka!” Laughing, he pushed open the door to your bedroom and disappeared inside. You watched the doorway with bated breath, listening to Sokka rummaging around to find the vermin.

There was an almighty thud, then a crash and a shriek along with thundering footsteps as your friend dashed out of the room with a massive roach flying behind him. You screamed too when you spotted the bug as it landed on your wall. Before you could react any further, Sokka had grabbed you and yanked you out the front door, slamming it shut behind you both.

“That’s no ordinary roach,” he panted, leaning against the door. He still held you close to his torso with an arm wrapped protectively around your waist. “Fucking military drone or something.”

“Did you think I was fucking joking?” Your stomach churned uneasily thinking about the insect walking all over your walls and prized possessions. A shudder ran down your spine and you buried your face into his chest, grabbing a fistful of the front of his shirt. “What am I supposed to do now? I can’t go back in there with that thing loose!”

“I don’t know.”

“You were supposed to kill it!”

“It charged me!”

“You big chicken!” Looking up, you flicked his forehead and giggled at his incredulous look. “I thought you loved me!”

His face felt like it was on fire. “I do!”

“Then why didn’t you kill it? You were supposed to protect me, Sokka!” Your hands settled on his chest and he hoped you couldn’t feel how fast his heart was beating. “So much for being smarter and stronger!”

“But you admit I’m more handsome still?” Your cheeks burned when his hand slid to your hip, using his thumb to rub circles into your hipbone through the fabric of your clothes.

“More handsome than the roach?” You couldn’t help but laugh at his goofy smile. “I guess you qualify for that.”

“Tough crowd,” he sighed. “I was going to bring you back to mine so you could get out of your roach-infested apartment, but if that’s how you really feel then I’ll leave you with the stronger, smarter organism.”

“The roach?” you squeaked indignantly. He chuckled at your wide eyes. “I’m sorry, I changed my mind. You are the smartest and strongest and handsomest again. Please let me crash at your place?”

“Wow, using me for my sweet crib? And here I was thinking you loved me for me!”

“Pretty please?” You clasped your hands under your chin, pouted, and gave him the best puppy dog eyes you could muster.

He groaned dramatically and rolled his eyes as if he were being greatly put out. “You know I can’t say no to that face. Let’s go, princess.” He disentangled himself from you and started to walk away only to realize you weren’t following. He turned back to you. “(Y/N)?”

You looked down at your socked feet. “I don’t have shoes. Or my keys.”

“I’m not going back in there.”

“Well, I’m not either.”

“Then it seems we’re at a stalemate.”

You pursed your lips thoughtfully. “Do you still have that spare key I gave you when I went out of town?”

“Good thinking, kid.” He shuffled around his key ring until he found yours, easily identifiable by the heart you’d painted onto it with your favorite nail polish. “Way to use your noodle.” He locked your front door and stood in front of you once again.

“Shoes,” you said simply, extending your leg to lift your foot in the air. “I’m not walking around like this. Knowing my luck I’ll step on a used needle and end up with some rare blood disease.” Sokka scratched the back of his neck as he considered this before a wicked grin split across his face. You did not like the looks of that. “Sokka...”

Without warning, he grabbed you around your middle and hoisted you onto his shoulder like a sack of flour. The inversion of your body made you squeal, scrambling to grab something to stabilize yourself. In your panic, you sunk your nails into the flesh of his ass.

“Jesus!” He gripped you tighter to stop you from slipping in his surprise. “I know I have an irresistibly fat ass but you gotta be careful back there, babe. That’s my moneymaker!”

If all your blood hadn’t been already rushing to your head you would’ve flushed. “That’s what you get for picking me up, asshole!” You paused. “What the fuck are you talking about, ‘your moneymaker?’”

“Well, I couldn’t have you stepping on a used needle and ending up with some rare blood disease, now could I?” You could practically hear his smirk as he carried you down to the front of your building.

“Do you derive joy from driving me up a wall?”

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation. You made an indignant noise and pinched his side. He yelped and smacked the back of your bare thighs in response.

“Did you just spank me?” You thrashed in protest, making him stumble a bit.

“No,” he grunted and then brought his hand down on your ass, eliciting a gasp from you. “Now I did.”

“Sokka!”

“That’s ‘Daddy’ to you, princess.” He tried to drop his voice an octave to sound stern but he couldn’t suppress his laughter. You were just glad he couldn’t see your face.

“I’m going to throttle you when you put me down,” you threatened.

“Kinky.”

“You know what? I’ll take my chances with the roach. Bring me back, you fucking deviant.”

He dropped you down to the ground and you leaned back against his car door, looking away from his face. “Aw, you’re hurting my feelings, babe. I seem to remember someone telling me—“

You clapped your hand over his mouth before he could continue. “That’s enough out of you, thanks.” You could feel his smile against your palm at the reference to a highly inappropriate conversation you’d had together when you were both extremely drunk. You recoiled when he licked your hand.

“Alright, alright; let’s go home. I’m exhausted.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you muttered without any malice as he reached around you to open the passenger door. He simply gave you that same shit-eating grin and closed your door.

Sokka decided to spare your pride and carried you up to his apartment on his back instead of over his shoulder. His hands on your thighs, shifting your position every so often, made your heart race. You could still catch whiffs of the tea from the Jasmine Dragon off his clothes, mingling with the masculine smell of his deodorant. The combination put you at ease after the trauma of dealing with the roach and you sighed happily, setting your chin on his shoulder and pressing your cheek against his. The stubbly scruff along his jaw prickled at your skin but you couldn’t find it in you to care much.

You thought he’d drop you down onto his couch once you’d entered his apartment but instead he carried you into his bedroom and flopped backwards onto his mattress, knocking the wind out of your chest as he squished you under his body. Despite the squeezing weight on your lungs you were laughing uncontrollably, arms still thrown around his shoulders. Sokka wished he could have moments like this with you every night; that he could turn around and kiss you without ruining everything.

“Why so giggly, kid? Are you enjoying this?” he teased, leaning his head back onto your chest.

“Laughter is my panic response. You’re suffocating me, fatass,” you wheezed

“Nah, I think you like it.”

You hummed thoughtfully as the giggles subsided. “Maybe. You’re kinda like one of those weighted blankets.”

“Yeah?” He turned so he faced you, propping himself up on his forearms on either side of your head. “Do I relieve your anxiety?”

You quirked an eyebrow. “The opposite, actually.”

“You wound me, really. I am a calming, peaceful, meditative presence. I am a delight and a joy to be around.” He frowned when you threw your head back in incredulous laughter. You hooked your leg around his hips and flipped him onto his back, pinning him underneath you.

“Maybe you have your moments.” He stared wide-eyed up at your teasing smile and considered closing the space between your mouths. Before he could work up the nerve, you sat back on your haunches out of reach. “I need to shower.”

“Without me?” he pouted. You groaned and shoved his face into the mattress as you stood.

“Don’t wait up, baby.” He flushed at the nickname you used to tease him. He propped himself up on his elbows to see you down the hall.

“I’ll take the couch tonight,” he said. You stopped just outside the bathroom door.

“Sokka, we don’t have to do this every time. I think it’s okay if we just sleep in the same bed without arguing over who gets the couch at this point.”

“If you’re alright with it,” he sighed, dropping his head back down.

“Why wouldn’t I be? It’s you.” You gave him a quick smile before disappearing into the bathroom.

You always secretly loved staying over with Sokka. The lather of his soap running down your body into the drain made you feel wrapped in his presence — a great comfort despite your teasing that suggested otherwise. His meticulous organizing even in the shower always made you laugh a little to yourself. His products were neatly organized in the order he used them, likely something he started doing when you’d dragged him to a beauty store after finding out he used 3-in-1 “for efficiency.” Now, to your immense pride and satisfaction, he had a full skincare and haircare routine.

Upon exiting the shower wrapped in a towel, you saw Sokka snoring lightly on his bed next to a pile of clothes he’d left out for you. You pulled on his shirt and quickly wriggled under the covers, propping yourself up on your elbow. You poked your finger into his cheek and he grunted, swatting at you.

“Leave me alone, woman,” he murmured.

“You need to shower.” He cracked an eye open to glare at you.

“You’re awfully demanding for a guest in my bed.”

“Well, you worked today and you stink.”

“That’s just my natural man musk. Pheromones and stuff. Nothing to be done about it.”

“Are you an ant?”

“Only if you’ll be my queen ant.” He sent you a cocky smirk and you simply shook your head.

“You’re fucking weird, dude.” He laughed and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you directly into his armpit as you squealed. Finally you freed yourself and rolled onto your side away from him with a huff. Sokka slid behind you and rested his head on your shoulder, sliding his arm around your waist.

“You know you love me, princess.”

“Whatever,” you grumbled. He chuckled and the sound reverberated against your back, his warm breath on your cheek making goosebumps rise on your skin. His thumb slid absently back and forth across your stomach and the soft touch lulled your heavy eyelids closed.

“Don’t go to bed mad, babe. At least give me my goodnight kiss.”

Enough. It’s now or never.

Before you could start second-guessing yourself, you rolled onto your back underneath him and surged upwards to press your lips to his in an insistent kiss. It lasted only a few moments before you pulled away because he remained frozen against you. His clear blue eyes were wide as he stared down at you and you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks and the tears threatening to spill as you realized what you’d done.

“You shouldn’t flirt if you don’t mean it, Sokka. It gives people the wrong idea,” you whispered, the corners of your mouth pulling into a frown. His gaze darted from your eyes down to your lips and back again.

“Who says I don’t mean it?” And then he was finally, finally kissing you before you could tell him off. You snaked your arm around his shoulders and pulled him down on top of you, desperate to be closer, to feel his body on your own to reassure yourself that yes, this was happening and it was real. His hand trailed up to cup your face, skimming his thumb gently along your cheekbone. You both broke away to gasp for air. Sokka looked down at your flushed cheeks and bright eyes and lips that were just beginning to swell and he thought you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Oh, don’t look so pleased with yourself,” you laughed, swiping your thumb over his satisfied smile on your way to pull the tie from his ponytail. The ends of his loose hair tickled your face as he kissed you again, this time much more gentle.

“And why shouldn’t I be?” Another kiss. “I’m kissing the girl I’ve been in love with for years.” Your eyes widened and you shoved him back onto the bed.

“Years?” you squeaked. “We could’ve been doing this for years?”

“I didn’t know you had feelings for me!”

“Of course I had feelings for you, are you joking?”

“Then why didn’t you do anything before now? I flirt with you constantly!”

“Because I thought you were joking!”

“Well, that’s on you, then. Now c’mere, princess,” he reached out and hugged you close to his body again, “we have a lot of time to make up for.”

“God, you’re such a cornball.” You giggled at the teasing kisses he peppered all over your face. When he finally caught your lips you hummed happily against his mouth. He tasted sweeter than the most tooth-rotting candy and gave you the same sugar high.

“Yeah, but you love it.”

“I do.” You snuggled down under the blanket and rested your head on his chest. “I love you, Sokka.”

He ruffled your hair affectionately. “I love you too, princess.”

“You still need to shower, though.”

“Ugh.”

ATLA TAGS: @hotgirlazula @octophopi

SOKKA/ZUKO TAGS: @fiantomartell

#sokka x reader #sokka fluff #sokka imagine #sokka x you #sokka fanfic #atla sokka #avatar: the last airbender #atla #atla fanfic #atla x reader #mine #nina’s 1k event #sokka

408 notes · View notes

cupcakes4747 · 4 years ago

Text

Duplicity | I

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: slight profanity, cheating

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Genre: angst, fluff, father! au, husband! au

m a s t e r l i s t

You were filled with pride as you and your husband Taehyung applauded for your kids after their school choir concert was over. Your five year old daughter Soomi and her twin brother Jaemin had been working so hard practicing every day for their choir concert and tonight they did awesome and you felt very proud as a mom and so did Taehyung. Your beautiful kids ran up to you and you both had carried them and engulfed them in a big hug.

“We’re so proud of you! Both of you were amazing!” you congratulated.

“Yeah, you both are even better at singing than me,” Taehyung added and the kids giggled.

“Can we go out for pizza?” your Soomi asked, looking up at you with her big puppy dog eyes.

“Yeah, can we?” Jaemin added. You looked at Taehyung and he was also smiling widely, waiting for you to approve so he could get to eat pizza. Sometimes it felt like he was one of your kids instead of your husband.

“Okay fine, you kids earned it,” you gave in.

“YAY!!!” the three of them shouted in unison. You laughed at their cuteness. Before stepping into the car, Taehyung held open the door for you and gave you a quick peck on the cheek.

“Thank you, babe,” he said while still smiling widely.

The rest of the time was spent with the four of you having fun together as a family. You loved your husband so much and your kids just as much if not more. You loved your family and couldn’t have asked for a better one. You were completely satisfied with your life.

Later that night you were brushing your teeth after tucking your kids into bed and felt your husband hug you from behind.

“Tae, what are you doing? Let me brush.”

“But you’re so warm,” he said, his eyes still closed. You smiled and rested your head on his before continuing to brush. When you finished, Taehyung lifted you and threw you over his shoulder like you were a sack of potatoes.

“Ahh, Taehyung! I swear if you drop me, I’ll drop you off a cliff.” Taehyung laughed.

“Don’t worry. You have a muscular husband,” he said cockily.

“Muscular my ass,” you muttered under your breath. But he still heard you and threw you on the bed.

“What did you say?” He started tickling the life out of you while you kept screaming at him to stop. “Shh, you’ll wake the kids up.” You gave him a deadpan look.

“Fuck you.” Taehyung giggled and brought you into a cuddling position.

“I’m so tired, princess.”

“Yeah, me too. Being your wife is tiring,” you joked.

“Do you want me to start tickling you again?”

“No sorry sir.” You both burst into laughter. “Okay but seriously let’s sleep.” You turned around gave Taehyung a kiss. As you were drifting off to sleep you heard Taehyung whisper something into your ear.

“I love you so much, Princess.”

“Yeah and then I drew a picture of a dinosaur and painted it purple but Jaemin said that dinosaurs weren’t purple so then…” your daughter rambled as you were walking both your kids home from school the next day. You had reached your apartment and the second you opened the door, your kids ran in, threw their backpacks to the ground, and ran to the kitchen to look for a snack. They’re just like me. You saw Taehyung’s keys on the counter. Taehyung’s here? That’s strange. He told me he had work today. You walked to your room to go change into some comfy clothes, but before you could open the door, you heard some noises coming from your bedroom. You pressed your ear to the door and could hear grunts and moans and a woman’s voice moaning Taehyung’s name. No, no, no this isn’t happening. You cracked open the door a couple inches you you could get a glimpse of what was going on and you saw Taehyung, your husband, fucking someone from work. Your heart felt like it stopped beating. You quietly closed the door and put on a happy face and went to the kitchen.

“Kids, I’m going to drop you off at Jisoo’s house, okay?” you told them.

“Yay, I haven’t seen her in so long,” Jaemin declared, making you relieved that they weren’t asking any questions. Your friend Jisoo was very good with kids and Soomi and Jaemin were very fond of her. You quickly gave your best friend, Jisoo a call asking them if you could drop the kids over for some time. After she agreed and asked why, you told her you would explain everything later.

“There you are! What took you so long?” Jisoo greeted cheerfully after letting the three of you in her apartment.

“There was quite a bit of traffic. Jisoo, do you mind putting on a movie for the kids so we can talk in private?”

“Sure,” Jisoo said nervously. She was put off by your serious face and tone and was worried something terrible had happened.

After the kids had been set up with a movie and some snacks in the living room, you and Jisoo sat down in the bedroom and closed the door behind you.

“I’m a little worried, what’s going —”

“Taehyung is having an affair,” you blurted out. Jisoo gasped and covered her mouth, unsure of what to say next. Just then you burst out into tears, trying to keep it as quiet as possible so the kids wouldn’t hear. Jisoo wrapped her arms around you and rested her head on your shoulder until you stopped crying. “I just don’t know what to do. Should I confront him? Should I ignore it? Should I divorce him? And what about the kids? What if this gets leaked to the media?” Jisoo nodded let out a big understanding sigh.

“This is an incredibly tricky situation. You really have to weigh your options carefully.”

“I can’t believe he would do this. I mean, we had the perfect relationship. I know he’s always been in love with me. How can someone so expertly fake the strong emotions he did?”

“I think you need to take some time to relax and cool down,” Jisoo said softly while petting your hair, “After that, you’ll be able to make a rational decision. Don’t worry about Soomi and Jaemin. I’ll take care of them until you’re ready.” You were so grateful for Jisoo. Friends like this are hard to come by. You replied with a measly thank you before passing out into a deep sleep. All that crying must have tired you out.

You woke up to the sound of your phone ringing. You grabbed your phone and checked the caller ID. Taehyung. You gulped. Should I answer it? You decided against your better judgement and took the call.

“Hey, babe, where are you? Didn’t you go to pick up the kids?” You saw the time on your phone. It had been a little over two hours since the kids’ school ended and only now he noticed that you three hadn’t arrived yet. Duh. He has clearly been busy with something else.

“I did,” you tried to respond, sounding as stable as you could. Taehyung was put off by the bluntness of your voice.

“O-ok...Where are you guys now?”

“I’ll see you in fifteen minutes.” You hung up the phone and went to look for Jisoo, who was in the kitchen preparing dinner with the children, who were helping her. “Hey, Jisoo, I’m going to meet Taehyung real quick. I’ll be back in time for dinner.” You could see the questioning look on her face, like she wanted to know what was going on, but didn’t want to raise any alarm in front of the kids, so you gave her a knowing nod, signaling that you would explain everything later.

As you drove home, you were heartbroken. How could he do this to me? I thought he loved me. Am I not enough for him? But as your mind kept racing, the sadness started to convert to anger. That backstabbing asshole. Who the fuck does he think he is? I need to hurt him the same way he hurt me.

You were standing right outside your apartment, key in your hand hovering right in front of the lock. It seems that the boldness your anger provided you just faded from your body. All of a sudden, for some reason, you just wanted to run back into his arms, feeling warm and protected, and just forgive him. After all he is your husband and the father of your children. Maybe did it because he was just stressed at work. Maybe you both just weren’t as sexually compatible as you thought and that you shouldn’t take it personally. It would just be easier to let bygones be bygones and go back to being a happy family again. It’s interesting how no matter how wrong someone is, if we love them, we will always make excuses for them they don’t deserve. No. He doesn’t deserve a second chance. And I deserve a man who can at the very least stay faithful to me. You gathered every bit of strength you had and went into the house.

“Babe!” Taehyung greeted you excitedly as he got off the couch. You were irked, not knowing whether his excitement was genuine or fabricated. Was it ever genuine? He leaned in to hug you, but you warded him off. Taehyung looked at you inquisitively.

“Where are the kids?”

“Don’t worry. The kids are fine. I came to talk to you.” He was taken aback by your sharp tone of voice.

“Are you okay? What’s going on?” The thing that that drove you the most crazy was the fact that his concern sounded genuine. It was messing with your head. Does he actually care about me, or is he just a really good faker? You hoped it was the former, but you didn’t want to give him a second chance without earning it.

“What do you think is going on, Taehyung?” He looked at you blankly.

“Babe, what are you talking about?” You looked him straight in the eyes.

“I think you know exactly what I’m talking about,” you whispered. A flash of panic spread across Taehyung’s face, before he quickly changed his expression to one of compassion.

“Baby,” he coaxed, “Is everything okay?” You were sure he was lying. His false concern was starting to creep on your nerves, but you brushed them off, wanting to maintain composure. He reached for your arm, but you pulled it away. “Can you tell me what’s going on?” he said sternly. You gave him a deadpan look.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” you said through gritted teeth. His face softened.

“Is it because of...” his voice trailed off, hoping you would understand what he was saying so he wouldn’t have to finish his sentence. You remained silent. You weren’t going to help him out. “Do you know?”

“Do I know about what, Taehyung?” you retorted.

“Who told you?” he whispered.

“Who told me about what, Taehyung. Just tell me what you mean.” You know exactly what he meant, but you wanted to hear him say it. Him admitting to it was the only way you could even consider forgiving him.

“Nothing. Nothing important. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Your heart dropped to your stomach. You were sure he knew what you were referring to, but he chose to keep it secret, betting his odds that you both were talking about different things.

“What were you doing at 4pm today?”

“I don’t know, probably working.”

“Really.”

“Yes, babe. I don’t know what you’re getting at.” You sensed a tone of annoyance in his voice.

“Because I stopped by with the kids around that time and witnessed something entirely different.” Taehyung’s eyes widened.

“What do you mean?” he whispered. You gave him a knowing look and Taehyung at once knew the charade was over. “Babe,” he said in a low voice, “Let’s sit down and talk.”

“No, I’m actually about to head out. I really don’t want to be around you right now.”

“When did you see it? I didn’t hear you come home.”

“Doesn’t matter, Taehyung. You cheated on me. How long has this been going on?” The blood drained from Taehyung’s face now that the elephant in the room had finally been addressed.

“I promise, this hasn’t been going on long. It was a mistake and I’m so, so sorry.” You rolled your eyes in order to mask the fact that you actually wanted to cry. “Really, it was a moment of weakness and I regret it so much. It will never happen again.”

“You shouldn’t have done it in the first place,” you retorted.

“Honey, whatever happens in our marriage, we can work it out.”

“We don’t have to work it out. Our lawyers can do that for us.” Taehyung stared at you, not understanding the implication. “I’m leaving you, Taehyung.” Through gritted teeth, you forced out the last few words before you stormed out of the apartment, “And I will see to it that you will never see your children ever again.” Before you could see his reaction, you slammed the door and ran to your car so he couldn’t catch up with you.

#bts angst #taehyung angst #v angst #bts fanfic #bts

85 notes · View notes

hearteyesbowen · 5 years ago

Text

practicing lines ☆ ricky bowen

nothing says high school plays like two lead actors hating each other to their core

warnings: slight angst, slight fluff, some swearing, heavy making out

part I , part II

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

If there is one thing Y/N hated most, it was Richard Bowen.

Richard “Ricky” Bowen was the high school sweetheart. The most polite and respectful man in his grade, and probably his school. He held the door for anyone and everyone, he offers to help his teachers in need of grading test papers, and he seems to be the perfect boyfriend material. That’s not what you thought.

You despise everything about him. The reason for your resentment was due to the fact that you got the part for Gabriella when he wanted Nini to get the part so they could rekindle their broken love. Ever since then, he has been nothing but rude and obnoxious to you. You did everything you could to try and make peace with him, but he only cared about his stupid plan to fix his own mistakes.

It was clear to the whole school of the mutual hatred between you two. Although Miss Jenn tried to warm you up to each other with her bonding exercises and one-on-one script read throughs, nothing was more powerful than your anger for each other.

Today, after learning that the school’s stage was mysteriously burned down, you all traveled to the El Ray Theatre.

“Ok kids, let’s go to page five.” She yelled, taking her clipboard and standing on the side with Carlos.

You scrambled through your bag, grabbing the heavy script that Carlos printed out for you. You turn on your heels swiftly, only to crash into your ignorant co-star.

“Watch it, happy feet.” Rick snarled, towering over you.

“Why not give me some personal space, Richard?” You smirked. “Almost makes me think you have a crush on me.”

“You fucking wish, Y/N.”

“Language, Ricky.” Miss Jenn warned.

You give him an innocent smile, turning your back on him as you walked to center stage. You heard him groan under his breath as he trailed behind you.

You both stood next to each other, or five feet apart from each other, flipping the pages of your script to the next scene. You quickly skimmed through the page, reading through the scene you were about to act out.

“Let’s go to the scene where Troy and-”

You heard a loud snap coming from the ceiling. “Watch out!” Someone from the back screeched.

You felt a strong pair of arms grab you and pull you to their body, covering your head. A large sand bag fell from the roof, making everyone around you scream and hold on to each other.

“Is everyone ok?” You heard Seb cry out.

You look up from your hands that covered your eyes and saw horror in everyone’s eyes, from the sack to you. Confused, you remembered that you were in someone’s grasp. You look up and see Ricky, breathing heavily. He looked at you and everything was quiet.

You pushed yourself off of him, sweeping your body from the dust in the air. Ricky did the same, clearing his throat and avoiding your gaze.

“Maybe we should take a five.” Miss Jenn hummed, “Ricky and Y/N can go and look for a quiet, hopefully safer place to practice lines while the rest of us can figure out how to work the lights and not die.”

➢➣ ➢➣

“Wow, not even a goddamn thank you for saving your life?” Ricky asked annoyingly as he closed the door behind him.

You had both found a hidden storage room in the dusty halls of the theatre. Inside were worn out dresses with threads popping out, multiple broken chairs probably used during performances, and an old piano.

You rolled your eyes, “No one asked you to save me, Dicky.”

“What did you just call me?” He growled.

“I said Dicky.” You spat. You dusted off the chair of the piano before sitting down, leaving room for Ricky.

He rolled his eyes and took off his navy hoodie. His shirt went up a little, revealing his toned chest. You forced yourself to stop staring and tried to ignore him as he sat down, leaving as much room in between you two as possibly without falling off the bench. His hands grazed they top of the piano before pressing his fingers on top of the keys. He began to mess around with the notes, playing small and random tunes. His eyes were glued to the instrument as he played, and you noticed a small smile forming on his lips as he practiced . You almost forgot about everything as you listened to him play. Watching him focus on his music brought a shiver to your body, and almost a warm feeling in your stomach. You had never felt this towards Ricky, all you felt was anger. But now, this whole new feeling brought a new light to you.

“Should we start practicing our lines?” Ricky asked, turning to look at you. A heat ran to your cheeks as you both stared at each other. You noticed a change in his eyes and saw him glance down at your lips once.

“Yeah, uhm, go to page five.” You said, turning away and grabbing your script from the top of the piano.

Ricky was still in shock of what happened. He got up from the bench and grabbed his script from a tall, wooden shelf next to the door. He watched as you turn around the seat to face him, still looking at your script. He noticed your tongue stick out ever so slightly which made him smile. He quickly wiped the smile from his face, bewildered by his reaction.

“I don’t need my script, do you?” You ask softly.

His throat went dry as he looked at you, your hair falling slightly over your flushed cheeks. Something in him clicked, and his knees began to grow heavy.

“No, you’re perfect-that’s perfect.” He rambled.

You kept the page of the scene open and placed the script next to you on the bench. “Remember in kindergarten, you’d meet a kid, know nothing about them, then ten seconds later, you were best friends?” You recite.

“Yeah.” Ricky mumbled.

“Singing with you felt like that.”

“I never thought about singing, that’s for sure. Until you. And now,” He said, gazing into your eyes. “And now,” He repeated, seeming lost.

“What an actor you are.” You joked, giggling a little.

“What does that mean?” He asked somewhat annoyingly.

“It was a joke, Ricky. Calm down.” You countered, standing up as you got more irritated. “You can’t take a joke?”

“I’m sorry, aren’t you the one who can’t even thank someone for saving their life?”

“That bag was no where near me, idiot. What were you trying to save me from? Dust bunnies?” You yelled.

Ricky scoffed, “And to think I thought we were getting better at being nicer to each other. I’ve tried so hard to make things between us better but clearly you don’t want that. I’m just waisting my time.”

You were taken back. “How is all of this my fault? You are the one who started getting pissed off at me for getting the lead when you wanted Nini. Is that why you fucking hate me? Because I’m not your ex girlfriend who is happy with her new boyfriend?” You screamed, your fists curled into each other tightly.

Ricky’s rich brown eyes grew shinier, his mouth agape and in shock. Neither of you have fought like this before.

“I’m sorry.” He said, taking the smallest step towards you. You took a small step back, feeling yourself close to the wall. “I’m an idiot.”

“That’s one way to put it.” You mumbled, stepping back one more step as you hit the door

“Look, I know it was wrong for me to be mad at you for getting the part. I was so caught up in the idea of me winning back Nini like they do in the movies that I totally disregarded your feelings too.” He confessed. “I started to realized how wrong I was about you a while ago, but we were so deep into our frustration for each other I didn’t know what to do but to try and start being more polite. I’m the worst guy in the world and you never deserved to be treated like a dick, it was all my fault.”

“I shouldn’t have been so rude either.” You muttered, “It was childish for me to retaliate with an attitude instead of just working it out, you know? I deserved some of the harshness from you.”

“Can we agree that this was on the both of us?” He begged, letting out a little laugh.

“Yeah, for sure.” You replied, softly laughing as you brought your attention to the floor.

You stared at your shoes and dusted off your jeans. You felt Ricky stare at you, so you looked up. His lower lip was caught in between his teeth, slowly turning his soft lips red. You couldn’t help but steal glances from his eyes to his lips, noticing Ricky do the same.

“I feel as though I owe you an apology.” He started, moving closer to you. His slim body towered over your own.

“Oh, you do. I expect an amazing gift to make up for this.” You smirked.

One of his hands went to your chin, grabbing it gently as the other went to your waist. Your hands rested on his chest.

“I have an idea.” Ricky whispered before he crashed his lips to yours.

His large hand moved from your chin to your waist. Your arms slid from his chest to around his neck, and curled up into his own curly hair. His grip on your waist tightened and pulled you closer to him, making sure to leave no space in between you. You tugged his hair, making him let out a low groan. You smiled at his reaction. His hands slid down your waist and under your butt, motioning you to jump. You jumped up and wrapped your legs around his waist, and he slammed you up against the door. He began to trail kisses from your lips to your neck, and you tried your best to hold in a moan. You felt the marks he was leaving from your neck to your collarbone. You moved his head back up and brought your lips to his again.

“I knew you had a crush on me.” You breathed out. He bit your bottom lip, making you gasp, and letting his tongue slip through.

Ricky walked back to the piano and sat down, letting you straddle his waist. You latched your lips to his neck, leaving matching marks on his neck. He let out small moans, gripping your hips tighter as you went on. Your hands went to the hem of his shirt, tugging at it so he would take it off.

“Ricky? Y/N? Are you two in here? This door is jammed!” You heard Big Red call out from past the wooden door.

You both quickly pulled away, getting up from his lap and readjusting your shirt. Ricky did the same to his messy hair. He swiftly grabbed his hoodie he left on the piano and tossed it you, motioning at your neck with the numerous marks he left.

“Yeah we’re here! Just push the door.” He replied. He moved one of his hands to the side of his neck, hoping to subtly cover up the red scars you left him.

You managed to put Ricky’s hoodie on before Red opened the door. You took in the scent of his cologne and adjusted the collar more up to hide your bruises.

“Miss Jenn is having a midlife crisis so we’re going to order pizza. Are you guys good with pepperoni and soy cheese?” He wondered.

“Yeah, totally fine.” You answered. Ricky gave a small nod to his friend.

Red was quick to notice you wearing Ricky’s clothing on your body, but didn’t want to question it out of fear for his life. He gave a simple “ok” and left without question, knowing he would just demand answers out of his best friend later.

Ricky turned back to you, scratching the back of his neck. “About what just happened-”

“We can discuss over our next read through together.” You interrupted, giving him a soft smile.

“How about the movies tomorrow? At 8?” He asked hopefully.

You gave him a smile and walked up to him, going to peck his lips only to be pulled back by Ricky for another sweet kiss.

➢➣ ➢➣

You both walked back to your friends who were scattered around the main entrance of the theatre. Everyone noticed you two holding hands, Ricky’s hoodie, and the obvious makeup on his neck. You both acted as though nothing happened.

You were pulled away by Carlos and Ashlyn, noticing Red going for Ricky. “Excuse me, last time I remembered you and Ricky were about to murder each other.” He mumbled quickly.

“What do you mean? We just had a really, really heated argument right now.” You defended, playing with the sleeves of his larger hoodie.

“Is there something on your neck? Oh my god Y/N did you and Ri-”

Miss Jenn bursted through the door happily, “Alright kids, let’s go back to school!”

A/N - well heres another imagine !!! this one was fun to write and more steamy so ur welcome ! im thinking of doing a part 2 to breakdown, so let me know what u think or send me suggestions or requests of what to write next :)) love y’all

#ricky bowen imagine #ricky bowen x reader #ricky bowen #ricky bowen blurbs #ricky bowen fluff #ricky bowen angst #ricky bowen oneshot #joshua bassett x reader #joshua bassett imagine #joshua bassett oneshot #hsmtmts imagine

1K notes · View notes

ortizobsessed · 5 years ago

Text

In Harm’s Way

This one was requested by @itsidontgiveafuckforyourass.

Reader x Juice where you get shot in the drive-by at Half Sack’s funeral, and when the time comes to go to Ireland, you convince Juice that it’s okay to go.

Warnings: A few swears, and description of gunshots/gunshot wounds.

Word Count: 2685

Masterlist

You weren’t new to this life, but every time someone died it was like a punch to the gut and you were suddenly pulled back to reality. You and Juice had been married for 2 years now, but you were still very much “outside the circle”; Juice’s request. He didn’t want you involved in the dealings of the club. He was afraid you would view him differently if you knew everything, so you lived blissfully in the dark, most times unaware of just how close the danger really was.

You were sitting up in bed, watching a movie on Juice’s laptop when you heard the front door open, then close.

“Hey Juicy!” you called out. No answer. Confused, you paused the movie, thinking maybe he hadn’t heard you, and called again, “Juice?”

You could hear his footsteps coming down the hallway, but he still hadn’t responded. Once he was standing in the doorframe and you saw his face, you knew something was wrong. Shutting the laptop, you flung the covers off of your legs and was standing in front of him in no time.

“Shit Juan, what happened!?” You pulled him close, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. When he didn’t hug you back, you pulled away slowly, placing one hand on the side of his face, and cooed, “Juan, talk to me.”

Taking a deep breath, he looked you in the eyes and admitted, “Half S- uhh- Kip... He’s dead.”

He explained what happened, and his words broke your heart. He told you that Half Sack had been stabbed while trying to stop someone from kidnapping Abel, but he didn’t tell you who or why. He was still trying his best to keep you out of all the club shit, while also not lying to you. He couldn’t stand the thought of lying to you.

“Juan, I’m so sorry- I-” you pulled him into your arms once again as silent tears trailed down his cheeks. You knew he and Half Sack were close, and the suddenness of it happening was clearly a lot to handle. He wrapped his arms around your waist loosely this time, but he didn’t have the energy to pull you close like he usually did.

You weren’t sure how long you two stood there for, but you didn’t care. You let Juice hold you as long as he needed to, and cry as much as he needed to. That’s when you heard his soft voice against your neck, “The funeral is in a couple days. Would you come with me?”

You didn’t even hesitate, “Yes, Juan, of course.” Squeezing him tighter, you finally felt his arms tighten around your body.

“I love you so much, Y/N. If anything ever happened to you-” his voice caught, and he couldn’t finish his sentence.

“I know, I know,” you cooed, “I’m right here, I’m okay. Nothing is going to happen to me.”

You didn’t realize then just how wrong you were.

Over the next couple days, you spent most of your time at the clubhouse. You wanted to be near everyone, and offer your help in any way you could. Whether it was prepare meals, or just being emotional support, you were glad you were there.

Juice clearly was, too, because he was right by your side any chance he got. He didn’t want to be away from you. Any time something bad went down with the club, Juice was glued to your side. He was constantly hugging you and kissing your forehead. You’d lost track of just how many times he told you he loved you in that 48 hour period.

It was now the day of the funeral, and you were helping Juice get ready. Once you pulled your simple black dress over your head and smoothed it out, you made your way towards him. Standing behind him, you slid your hands around his waist to his stomach, and pulled tight. Sighing against the warm skin on his back, you felt his hands on yours.

You held him tight for about a minute before pulling away, then grabbing his kutte that was hanging over the back of a chair. Juice took a black t-shirt out of one of the drawers in the dresser and pulled it over his head. You held out his kutte for him and he slipped his arms through. Turning to face you, he cupped your face in his hands and kissed you lovingly. No words were spoken between you two in the hour it took to get ready and drive to the funeral home; neither of you really knew what to say.

Walking hand in hand, you and Juice made your way up the front steps and found some familiar faces. Chibs, Opie and Bobby were standing outside talking, Lyla by Opie’s side. As you two got closer, Lyla made her way to you, pulling you close, as Juice gave each of the guys hugs.

You all made your way inside, wading through the crowd of people there to pay their respects. Once you made it to the room at the back, Juice draped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you close. You felt his body breathe deep, then sigh heavily, as he tried to keep his emotions at bay. Reaching up, you placed your hand on top of his hand that was around your shoulders, wanting him to know you were there for him.

It wasn’t long before everyone started to filter out of the funeral home and onto the grass or front steps. Everyone just needed a little fresh air to clear their minds.

“Thank you for coming,” Juice said, turning to you and kissing your forehead.

You wrapped your hands around his, pulling one of them up to your lips to kiss the back of it gently. “Of course, Juan. I’m here for you. Always.”

Your words made him smile, for the first time in days, and you could tell he welcomed it. “I love you.”

Smiling back at him, you responded, “I love you, too.”

Nodding with his head in the direction of his bike, Juice suggested, “Let’s go home. It’s been a long day.”

You had only taken a couple steps down the sidewalk when you heard it; the roar of an engine and then the sudden and loud cracks of a gun being fired. People were screaming, and everyone was diving to the ground all around you. As you looked around, trying to process what was happening, you hadn’t moved yet. It was clear that your fight or flight response was actually ‘freeze’.

All of this happened in the blink of an eye. Before you could do anything, Juice had his arms around you and was just about to pull you to the ground when you felt it; two sharp pains that quickly began to burn. One in your left thigh and the other directly below your right shoulder.

It was an excruciating pain that you had never felt before, but it didn’t take you long to figure out what it was. “Juan- I- Juan- help- I think I’ve been shot- help- Juan-” Your voice way low and shaky, and Juice couldn’t hear you over everyone else’s shouting.

As you slumped to the ground, Juice pulled you close, his full body overtop of yours, trying his best to protect you. He was completely unaware that the damage had already been done.

He held you tight until the gunfire stopped. Slowly lifting his body off yours, that’s when he realized something was wrong. You didn’t sit up with him, and as he pulled his hands out from underneath you, he noticed the blood. Lots of blood.

“What the fuck?” Juice stared at his hands for a second as his mind processed his worst fear; you were hurt and it was ‘his fault’.

“Y/N...” His voice was low and clearly broken. You felt his hand on your arm, and it took everything in you not to cry out in pain. Your shoulder was on fire at this point, and even the slightest touch sent pain shooting throughout your entire body.

“Y/N?!” His voice was much more urgent this time, as he tried to roll you onto your back in an attempt to get a better look at you.

The second your body moved you shrieked, clearly in pain.

“Y/N!! Ohhh fuck- oh no no no no oh god no no no Y/N!!” His frantic words broke your heart, but you were in so much pain it was had to focus on anything but that. You were now lying on your back, and that’s when Juice noticed that you hadn’t been shot once, but twice. “Oh fuck oh fuck- HELP!! SOMEONE HELP!!”

In no time at all, Tara was by your side, assessing the damage. A crowd of faces, some familiar, some new, had formed above you. “Shit Tara- Please do something- ANYTHING- I can’t lose her- I just can’t- PLEASE!”

You could feel your mind beginning to slip. Between the pain, the shock, and the loss of blood, it was hard to keep your eyes open.

No matter how much practice Tara had, seeing someone she cared about covered in blood always took a second to process. “Okay- Okay shit- I need you to put lots of pressure on that wound on her shoulder. I’ve got the one on her leg. She’s losing a lot of blood and we need to stop it, now.”

Juice nodded frantically, then looked you in the eyes, almost as if he thought it would be the last time. The last thing you remembered was Juice apologizing; the pressure on your wounds was too much, and you lost consciousness.

The first thing you noticed was the smell. “Okay, I’m in a hospital,” you thought to yourself. Slowly everything started to fade in. The sound of muffled voices, the fluorescent light was peeking through your eyelids, and you could feel someone’s hand holding yours; Juice.

“I think she’s waking up.” Opie’s soft voice filled your ears.

You felt Juice’s hand tighten it’s grip on yours. “Hey, hey sweetheart, I’m here. I’m here baby I’m here.” His voice was quiet, but still full of so much hurt. He was mad at himself for putting you in harms way, and for not doing more to get you to the ground quicker.

As your eyelids fluttered open, you rolled your head to the side and smiled softly at Juice.

“We’ll give you two some space,” Bobby suggested, and you heard shuffling throughout the room. You weren’t sure who all had been in the room, you were too focused on Juice, but quite a few people left.

It was mere seconds after the last person out shut the door that tears began flowing down Juice’s cheeks. It was a silent cry, the kind that only happens when someone is truly hurting. “I’m- I’m so sorry Y/N. This is all my fault.”

Shaking your head softly, you spoke for the first time since the incident, and your throat was raw. “No- No Juan this isn’t-” You couldn’t keep yourself from coughing, but it was the distraction that Juice needed. In an instant, he had a cup of water up to your lips, helping you take a few sips.

As he set the cup back on the side table, he breathed in deep and sighed heavy. His shoulders slumped as he turned to face you again. Looking him in the eyes, you could see the hurt and guilt he was feeling. He hated that the dangers of this life he was living was spilling over onto you.

Swallowing hard once more, you spoke, “Juan. This is not your fault. No one saw that coming-”

He cut you off, “No, but I could have done more. I should have-” His voice broke, and he had to look away.

Reaching over the side of the bed, you placed your hand on top of his. He slowly turned to face you again, and you smiled softly at him. Without saying a word, you shuffled yourself over in the bed to make room for him to lay beside you. Patting the side of the bed that was now empty, you nodded softly at him, encouraging him to join you.

Climbing onto the bed beside you, being very careful not to bump your shoulder or your leg, Juice snuggled his body into yours and pulled you close.

“How long was I out?”

He took a deep breath before answering, trying to silence thoughts of how bad it could have been. “A couple hours.”

Laughing ironically, you couldn’t keep your mind from wandering to the cause of all this. “So what happens now? Do they know who did it?”

Juice shut his eyes tight, not knowing how much he should tell you. “I- I don’t want to bring you any deeper into any of this shit than I have to-”

“I need to know, Juan.” He opened his eyes again and looked at you, “I can’t live in this grey area anymore. I need to know what’s happening. I want to understand.”

He knew you were right. You two weren’t dating anymore, you were married, and had been for 2 years now. It was time he let you in. Breathing deep, he explained it all. From Cameron and Edmond, to Abel and Half Sack, all the way up to tonight and who they suspected was to blame.

“Shit-” was all you could muster as you tried to process everything. “So where is Abel now?”

“We’re pretty sure he’s in Belfast. The guys are heading there in a couple days. I’m supposed to go with- but- I can’t-”

With a stern look on your face, you encouraged him, “You have to! Juan, the guys need you right now, you have to go.”

“Yeah and YOU need me, too,” he replied, clearly struggling to find the balance between brotherhood and wife. He continued hesitantly, “But that Irish prick kidnapped Abel and killed one of my brothers, and because of all that, you were put in harm’s way. I want to be there with the guys to see this through, but I can’t- I can’t just leave you- not like this-.” His voice cracked. Thinking of leaving you to recover from wounds that he viewed as his fault was a hard pill to swallow.

You placed your hand on the side of his face and spoke softly, “Juicy, you need to go. I know you, if you’re not there with them it’ll eat away at you. It’s okay. Tig and Kozik and the prospects are sticking around, I’ll have lots of eyes on me. And with Tara here to make sure I’m healing well, I’ll be fine. I’ll be here when you get back. Promise.”

Juice opened his mouth as if to say something, but decided against it. You knew what he was going to say though, because you were thinking it, too. It sounded a lot like what you’d just said a few days earlier, about you being okay and that nothing was going to happen to you. Yet here you were.

Both of you knew what had to be done though. Juice needed to be there to help find Abel, to support his brother through an unimaginable situation. If you were lying on your death bed, you’d both be thinking differently, but the truth was, you were fine. Tara had done an incredible job patching you up, and you were stable.

After a minute of thinking things over in silence, Juice finally spoke, “Okay... You’re right. But you better believe I’m going to be calling you every chance I get.”

You laughed, and Juice finally smiled, too. “I would expect nothing less.”

Kissing your lips tenderly, Juice whispered, “I love you. So much.”

Smiling against his lips, you told him the same. Nuzzling your head under his chin you sighed, and suddenly felt your body grow heavy once again. You were exhausted, and surely he was, too. In no time at all you were both asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms.

#in harm’s way #juice imagine #juice ortiz imagine #juan carlos ortiz imagine #sons of anarchy imagine #soa imagine #juice ortiz #juan carlos ortiz #theo rossi #sons of anarchy #soa #samcro #redwood original #men of mayhem #fan fiction

125 notes · View notes

ffangirlingsince2001 · 5 years ago

Text

End of the Tunnel: VIII

Description: It’s almost been a year since Freed Weasley was lost to the Battle of Hogwarts, and for George Weasley it might as well be an eternity. He is lost in the dark, no color to be found. Until suddenly there might be a light at the end of the tunnel.

Warnings: ANGST, self deprecation, language

A/N: Hey, if you enjoy this series, please be a doll and vote on what you want my next series to be here. Descriptions of the five options available are there and I want to write what the people want to read. Thank you for all your support!

MASTERLIST

***

George though that making it through May 2nd meant he was home free. He thought he was better, he thought that with Hannah by his side he was unstoppable. He had come to terms with being what you might call friends with Draco fucking Malfoy. He was on top of the world, and he was sure nothing could pull him down.

He was so fucking sure, until the anniversary of Fred’s funeral.

He woke up to an empty bed, Hannah had gone to work early, leaving a draft in her place. The one morning when he was sure he needed her more than anything else, she was gone. He shouldn’t blame her; she didn’t know the day. They had both been so sure that the storm had passed after May 2nd.

With a great effort he rolled over and groaned. He told himself he should get up and go to work, but he couldn’t bear it. His body ached and his heart was heavy. He could imagine the funeral, the number of people that patted him on the shoulder and the pity they had all offered him. He hadn’t wanted any of their pity, he had just wanted his brother back. While he hadn’t shed any tears that day, when they lowered him into the ground his whole world had shattered.

The world was ending all over again.

He couldn’t believe he hadn’t talked to Fred’s painting at the event. He knew it wouldn’t be the same, and he had been a bit distracted by other matters at hand, but that was the problem wasn’t it. He was distracted from his own brother, his best friend, and the one person who had really understood him.

When Ron had first attacked him, he had been indignant, sure that being friends with Malfoy was important to overcoming the prejudices that had been formed long before he was born, but now he wasn’t so sure.

What would Fred think? Would he agree or would he be just as angry as Ron had been? The pit in his stomach sunk lower. Not only that but he was dating a girl, who Malfoy would have wanted to kill little over a year ago. Was Ron, right? Had George pinned the execution notice to her door and led her to the guillotine. He might as well pull the rope too, clap with the crowd while her blood stained the sidewalk.

NO! He would never, he wasn’t, he couldn’t. She had been friends with him first, and she had been fine long before he showed up, amazing even. They had lived together, she had helped him, and he had helped her. If Malfoy had wanted to kill her, he would have done it long before George came along. She was safe, he would protect her before he would ever hurt her.

George allowed himself to relax a little through the sadness, but then sorrow turned to rage as an evil thought wriggled its way into his mind.

Had she loved him? Malfoy said he loved Sloane, but had she just been an accident along the way of a different tragic love story? Malfoy had killed for her, would he do that for someone he didn’t love in return? Had they ever drifted around each other while cleaning up late at night, fingers ghosted as they washed and dried the mugs? Had their eyes met and then had she let him kiss her? His mind drifted further and before he could put a stop to it, he could picture them in bed, rolling around beneath sheets while she made noises that he had once felt lucky enough to hold privately within his memory.

She would have told him.

He sat up, slamming his fist into the wall as he stalked towards the bathroom. He had reinstalled the mirror a few weeks ago, but now it seemed like a foolish idea. Fred was staring back at him, so disappointed George threw up in the sink. Wiping his lips, he returned his gaze to the exhausted looking face in the mirror. If he imagined an ear where the was none and put on a big smile it would have been the same picture they used at the funeral.

“What am I doing?” he muttered but no response came. “Fred, what the fuck am I doing?” he screamed but no response came. He yelled again, slamming his hands against the porcelain of the sink, knuckles turning white as he held it for support. With a sudden thrash of his body he punched the mirror. It shattered and his hand was bleeding, not that he could feel any of the wounds. It was so difficult to notice trivial things like pain when anger was so overpowering.

It felt wrong to be so angry, so lonely and numb when everywhere he turned there was love. He was loved by so many, but when only silence mixed with his heavy breathing, he had never felt more alone. Pain grabbed his heart and squeezed until he found himself sitting on the cold floor of the bathroom, drowning in thoughts that would have seemed impossible the night before. The disappointment Fred would feel, the sound of Malfoy and Hannah interlocked in something he couldn’t understand, and the overwhelming loneliness that seemed to be sitting on his chest.

And that’s where he remained until later that evening when Hannah opened the door. By the time she returned he had rehearsed, and rewritten, and scrapped everything he wanted to say. Fear had accused, but love had sacked the idea. Now all he was left with was anger, about both things that he couldn’t control and things that he was not sure had even happened.

“George?” she called, and he stalked out of the bathroom, fists clenched by his side. She hadn’t seen him yet, her head in the fridge as she put away the few groceries she had picked up after work. He tried to collect his thoughts, to decide what to say before she noticed him, but he wasn’t fast enough. “Oh George, you look awful are you alright? Did something happen at work?”

“Did you ever shag Malfoy?” She flinched away as if he had slapped her, eyes wide at the accusation. He can’t believe those were the words that had managed to push through everything he was feeling. A fleeting thought hours ago, and that’s what he greeted her with.

“Excuse me?” He was going to apologize, but that’s not what he ended up saying.

“You heard me. Did you ever shag Draco fucking Malfoy?”

“No, I never shagged Draco. And I never will shag Draco. Where is this coming from?” she approached him but he jerked away. That seemed to hurt her more than the accusation. “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not fucking okay.”

“Come here, let me help you,” she pleaded, hand outstretched in front of her. He pushed it away, turning to stare at the wall. “George, please.” She rested her hand against his back, words soft and comforting, and rational George wanted to fall into her arms. Rational George was begging to cry and let her lead him to bed. Rational George fought tooth and nail against what happened next, but angry George easily tossed him to the side as he turned around, malice in his eyes.

“Stop trying to be him,” he yelled but she only looked confused.

“Who?”

“Fred.”

“I’m not trying to be,” she replied, and she wasn’t but that didn’t stop him from laughing maliciously as he advanced, fists by his side.

“You’ll never be as good as him.”

“I’m not trying to be,” she screamed in response, tears streaming down her face.

“You’re just someone to make me feel loved, but you can’t even manage that can you?”

“How can you say that?” she cried, vigorously wiping away tears as she tried to remain strong.

“Because it’s true. You’re never here when I need you, for all I know you’re out with Malfoy, wishing you were Sloane while I’m stuck at home waiting for you.” It was all bullshit, he didn’t believe a word that came out of his mouth, but that didn’t stop him from continuing. “And I’m sick of waiting.”

“What are you saying?” she managed through the tears. Rational George screamed one more time, begging him to apologize but the wrong words were already out of his mouth.

“I’m telling you to get out.” The world stopped, and while it had felt like it was ending earlier that morning, it seemed that was only a ruse. She burst into tears, falling to her knees in front of him. Rational George begged him to hold her, but he only watched stoically. He was so angry at the world that he couldn’t bring himself to fight for her, especially when he was the enemy he was trying to defend her from.

“George-.”

“I said, get out,” he growled and with heavy steps she dragged herself away like a kicked puppy. She glanced over her shoulder one more time as she pulled open the door. A final plea rested on her tongue, but she couldn’t bring herself to beg when he was staring at her so coldly. He had never been so cold, always warmth, but it was hard to remember she had ever felt heat from him when he was staring at her like that. So, instead of begging, instead of crying, instead of refusing to leave she took the dreaded step into the hallway.

“You know where to find me.” And then the door clicked shut. He stared at him, heavy breathing the only thing that filled the room as her sobs slowly disappeared from earshot. Then, the room turned into a rampage.

He flipped the table, allowing the remaining groceries to fly across the room and crumble into small heaps against the wall. Rational George and angry George worked as one as they mourned their loss. He flipped chairs, their legs burying into the drywall before falling to the ground with a clatter.

He swiped dishes from the counter and to the floor, not even bothering to wait for the satisfaction of hearing them shatter against the floor. He ripped a cabinet from the wall and hurled it away. He marched towards the bathroom and ripped the shelf from the wall. Products fell to the floor, shattering upon impact. The nails left holes in the wall, but they paled in comparison to the one his fist left as he screamed.

He marched towards the door. He was going to go after her. He was going to pull her into his arms and beg for forgiveness. He was going to, no force on the earth could stop him, except the wave of self-hatred that washed over him the moment he touched the doorknob.

Why would she want him back?

He had thrown her out without an ounce of remorse, accused her of sleeping with a friend without proof, and told her she would never be enough. No one in their right mind would take him back. If he was her he would never want to see him again.

His hand fell from the door and he fell to his bed, eyes squeezed shut. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes as he lay there, half in bed, half out. He was no better than he had been that morning, sad and wishing that the love of his life was laying beside him.

#george weasley #george weasley angst #george weasley fluff #george weasley smut #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley imagine #george weasley fanfic #george weasley imagines #george weasley x reader #george weasley x reader smut #george weasley x reader angst #george weasley x reader fluff #george weasley x reader imagine #george weasley x reader imagines #george weasley x reader fanfiction #george weasley x reader fanfic #end of the tunnel

74 notes · View notes

agoracactus · 5 years ago

Text

Pt. 9.5 - The Blood Mage

so im here to explain what happened after reader left Geralt, but it gets pretty dark (see warnings), if u dont wanna read it but still wanna know what happened, ill do a family friendly summary at the very end, scroll and look for this ▲△▲△▲△ dividing line

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.4.5 Pt.5 Pt.6 Pt.7 Pt.8 Pt.9

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x reader

Word Count: 4110 - summary excluded

Warnings: besides the standards, blood, gore, indication of sacrificial ritual against children (yes im a monster)

Tag list: @theojuicee @ayamenimthiriel @imthesnowinthedark @distinguishedkryptonitecreator

You stood there, watching him disappeared into the woods, cold air wrapping tightly around your body.

Was it getting cold? Or was it your blood drawing away from the surface of your skin, wanted to crawl inside and hide there and never come out?

When you realized it, you were already walking away. Tears blurring your sight, hitched breaths blocking your hearing, you stumbled forward, don’t know where you’re going--- you just wanted to get out, you had to.

You tripped and fell, and you just lay there, panting from the emotion that’s gripping your chest.

How could he say such things? You cared about him so much, yet he returned it with sharp blades of words. Manipulating him? How dare he? You were merely helping, trying to steer him away from the tragic events that would happen to him! Did he ever say ‘thank you’ for your effort of trying? No. He complained. He Accused you for being a ‘jinx’.

You sat up. The darkness had already crept in in between the trees. You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand, the shock and the sadness faded into anger. You stood up.

Fine, you’re leaving. You don’t need him anyway. You could go back to Yen, she would take you in. You would live a way better life than before- Hell, you don’t even need Yen. You can take care of yourself. You will go on your own adventure and perhaps meet someone better than that stupid, stubborn asshole.

You didn’t know how long you’ve been walking, or where were you walking to. It was dark everywhere, and your human eyes could barely made out anything- probably even less than what you usually could due to your now puffy eyes.

You started to hear the different sound of the night forest, the cracking of the dry twigs, the chirping of what you assumed of the crickets, the rustling of the trees, and perhaps the howling of some wolves far away.

Suddenly, a scream pierced through the darkness of the forest.

You tensed up, ready to run if any danger come towards you.

“HELP!”

You heard it loud and clear. You quickly drew out your shotgun, ran to the source of the sound.

It wasn’t hard to locate where you should go, there was a faint glow not so far away in the woods. As you were getting closer, you saw a circle of glyphs giving out a brown-ish red glow, in the center lay a shape that seemed to be a body of a child. Beyond the circle, not too far away, was a ghoul.

“Help me! Help!” Someone up in the tree shouted desperately, seeing you appeared from the dark. You stopped in the circle of glyphs, aimed the shotgun at the ghoul that was growling up at the poor man and pulled the trigger.

The ghoul took a few shot before it went down and stopped moving completely.

“Are you ok?” you poked the dead ghoul with the gun barrel to make sure it’s really dead, and said to the man, “You can come down now, it’s dead.” “Oh thank you kind stranger!” the man swiftly climbed down, he was wearing a cloak with dark stains at the bottom edge. “I would have been dead if not for you, I owe you my life!” “What happened here?” you asked, stepped into the circle once again to check the pulse of the child. You noticed the boy had several cuts on his arms and legs, and a mark of branding on the inside of his wrist that you couldn’t quite make out the design with the dim light from the glyphs.

“...Fascinating...” You heard the man gasped in awe. “Hm?” gotten distracted from inspecting the branding further more, the thought slipped from your mind, “The kid is dead.” you stood up. “Yes yes, poor child. His parents brought him to me for treatments, but the monster showed up. I tried to put up a protection sphere for him but he’s badly wounded...” the man lowered his head with remorse. “You’re a healer?” you stepped out of the circle. The man glanced at your feet and the glyphs, “I’m a worshiper of the arcane, a student in the knowledge of unknown.” he bowed his head slightly, “Sadon Olbrecht, at your service.” “Y/n.” you replied, found yourself having some trouble trusting him, but couldn’t put your finger on it.

“What a lovely name! And what brought you here deep in the woods in such late hours?” “Um, well, I um, lost.” you avoided the eye contact, remembering the reason why you were deep in the woods late at night. “Oh I live near by! You are more than welcome to come stay overnight, and I can show you the way to the highway tomorrow!” he lit a lantern--- that came out of nowhere. “It’s this way!” he lift up the lantern to see better ahead. “...” you took a look back at the direction you assumed you came from--- it’s too dark to tell--- “Sure. Lead the way.”

It didn’t take long before you saw that stone made house. “Here we are!” Sadon picked up the pace, “We don’t have much, but it’s our humble home.” “We?” you glanced at the dark windows. “Yes. Come come!” he quickly pushed open the wooden door. You hesitated, one hand reached back and clutched on the pistol.

You stepped in. It was dark, the smell of decay and dampness rushed into your nostril. “Sadon?” you couldn’t see anything. Something wasn’t right. You turned, wanted to walk back out.

Then a heavy strike hit you in the back of your head. You fell unconscious.

It was cold, dark, humid, stank of dirt and mold.

And blood.

So much blood.

Fresh, not fresh, they all mixed together into a protruding smell.

You were leaning against the cold stone wall, hands chained to the wall, another pair of heavy manacles on your ankles. There’s no window in this room, the only time when you could see anything was when Sadon were in the room, then he would light all the candles--- there were so many candles, black and red. When there’s no light, it’s pitch black. So dark that you often wondered if your eyes were actually opened.

It hurt everywhere, to a point that you couldn’t feel pain anymore. You used to complain so much about even the smallest cut, would wine about your sore back every few minutes. But you stopped thinking about the pain now. Your brain learned to ignore it after a while. You tried to get some sleep, but your body was aching and stiff--- in fact, your brain couldn’t even tell if you’ve slept.

And the noises. The sobbing and crying and moaning from below.

The kids.

You didn’t know who they were, but you know there were several of them. Sadon kept them separated from you, in the camber below. You saw him carrying sacks downstairs a couple of times, took some time before you realized that those were the kids. He probably kidnapped them somewhere, put them to sleep for transportation.

You’re glad that you didn’t know these poor children.

You heard the rustling of the keys, and the squeaking of the metal door. Light poured in from the door at the far side of the chamber, a pair of feet came down the stone stairs.

“Good evening!” he greeted you delightedly and started lighting the candles with the candlestick he brought down. There was a large stone pedestal in the middle of the chamber, few metal hooks sticking out on the sides, with runes carved all around it and it was covered in deep maroon. The runes ran down the pedestal, to the stone floor, and formed a circle.

Sadon finished lighting up the room, set the candlestick down on the side of the pedestal “I really have a good feeling today, perhaps success is near the corner!” You could hear the sincere excitement in his voice, and it only sickened you more.

He took the chain of keys, and unlocked the hatch to the basement. You chewed on the inside of your mouth, hearing the children crying. You saw a little boy being dragged up, manacles chained on his skinny wrists and ankles. The boy was trying all he can to fight, but Sadon as a grown man was way stronger than him. He threw you desperate gazes, but there was nothing you could do. You watched him being dragged to the pedestal, manacles on his wrists hooked to one side and the ankles were hooked to the other side.

Then Sadon brought a dagger and a small goblet to you. He knelt down beside you, took the dagger and cup a deep slit in your upper arm. You turned your head away, gritted your teeth so hard you felt like you were going to shatter your jaw. He caught your blood in the goblet and brought it back to the boy, who was laying on the pedestal, panting in fear.

You shut your eyes, trying to close off all your senses.

The pure one.

That’s how Sadon addressed you. How disgusted you were when you heard that.

He said he’s a blood mage. You knew that’s bullshit from the time you’ve spent with the witcher and the sorceress, and the knowledge they fed to you.

Sadon was just a demon worshiper, who was deluded about how he has a connection with the “demon lord”. He told you that he would one day break the barrier between the two worlds and bring his lord to this realm, and together they would bring the world to greatness. And he believed that your blood is the key to his grand plan.

You didn’t even care about the sanity of his mind.

How long have you been in here? How many rituals have you witnessed? How many young lives were perished, tragically and painfully in front of your eyes? The scenes, the sounds, they haunted your dreams. Sometimes you couldn’t tell if you were dreaming or the ritual was actually happening.

At first you were so mad, you screamed, you struggled. You tried to fight your way out of this, but you were nothing without your weapons.

You were nothing without your witcher.

You overflew your mind with the witcher.

His voice, his frown, his grunt, his smirk. What was he doing while you were stuck here, suffering? Did his mind ever come across you after you parted ways? Was he worried about you?

Then you banned him out of your mind, kicked the image the sound the phantom warmth of his out of your brain as many times as you needed.

You prayed. Prayed for all these were just a bad dream, prayed that Geralt would be looking and saved you from this hellhole. You cursed, cursed your bad luck, curse your immunity, cursed for you trusting a stranger and take him for his words. Disappointed- desperate about the absence of

Till there’s nothing left for you to do but to wait.

Wait for the final fate to find you.

The chamber has grown cold.

You were the one laying face up on the pedestal, staring up at the ceiling. There hanged a rusty chandelier, covered in dust and webs. The thought of it falling and killing you and ruining the ritual flashed through your mind, brought you a slight amusement. You were even more amused at how you were coming up sick jokes when death was staring you right in the face. In fact, you had to suppress the urge to laugh.

Few kids were kneeling on the ground, forming a circle around the pedestal. You couldn’t tell how many of them were there--- you were too weak to turn your head to look--- you guessed that they were probably the last ‘stock’ Sadon had in his little basement. You could hear them sobbing, the silver instruments Sadon made them held were making soft tinkling sound with their shaky hands.

The temperture dropped more. Or maybe it’s you losing blood.

You heard Sadon’s chanting, heard him moving around in his elegant robe. You fought to keep your eyes open, but the eyelids were growing heavy.

You were scared.

Is this it? Are you really going to die? What’s beyond ‘death’? Will you return to your world? Would Geralt miss you, at all?

You were not ready to go. But the darkness was creeping in from the corner of your vision.

A voice crept in as darkness consumed you. It souded like several people talking at the same time, in different pitch, but merged in one.

“What do you wish?”

You found yourself standing--- or perhaps, floating, in this darkness. The voice seemed to be coming from everywhere.

“We could give you anything you want.”

You looked around, then you weren’t sure if you were actually looking.

“I want to live.” you found yourself talking, heard your voice coming from all around you.

“Pay the price.”

The voice echoed in the space.

“I have nothing.”

“Give us what’s most precious to you.”

A dark shape emerged from the dark. You didn’t know how you’re seeing it without light, but the presence was strong. You saw it extended it’s hand, expecting a hand shake.

You closed your eyes, still seeing the darkness.

“Give it.” “Give it.” “Give it.”

The voice now split into several whispers, coming from different directions.

You saw yourself slowly raising your hand, slowly, reaching that extending arm. Faintly, you heard your voice, telling you to stop, to think this over, to be smart.

A face flashed into your mind, the pair of eyes that would usually filled with warmth were painted in cold bitterness.

You held onto the arm.

A burning sensation burst out on the inside of your forearm. A shape was glowing, and eating your flesh away. You screamed.

The whispers ceased.

“You are ours now.”

The darkness faded. You were on your bare feet, panting. Most of the candles were out, the only ones still burning were the ones on the pedestal behind you.

Your saw your shadow casting on the ground, and drew up to the wall, swaying, with the low burn candlelight. The thick substance that’s covering the ground, glistening with the flickering light. You tried to move your feet, but your foot kicked something.

An arm. Children’s.

You slowly glanced around, eyes barely made out the scattering pieces of what you assumed, human body. The smell of gradually decaying flesh filled your nostril, your brain slowly started working.

What happened?

You saw Sadon, half of his head were by the wall, expression frozen on absolute horror.

The metal door screaked. You turned, and saw two figures standing at the top of the stairs. In their eyes, were those horror? Shock? Perhaps wonder?

You didn’t get to find out. In a flash, the smaller figure of the two rushed towards you. And before you could react, a blunt hit in the back of your head. You were back into darkness again.

▲△▲△▲△▲△▲△▲the family friendly dividing line▲△▲△▲△▲△▲△▲△▲

Summary

You left Geralt after the fight when the night was falling. Frustrated and disappointed at what happened, you got lost.

Deep in the woods, you came upon a man who named Sadon, he was being attacked by a ghoul, after killing the ghoul, he offered somewhere safe to stay for the night in return. He attacked you and knocked you out after arriving at his stone made house.

It turned out that he was a demon worshiper, and claimed to be a blood mage. He made sacrifices of children who he kidnapped at the nearby village to pay tribute to his dark lord. He believes that the rituals he’s doing granted him power, and one day he would be powerful enough to summon the demon king to this realm, and together they would rule the world. And when you saved him in the woods, he found out that magic doesn’t take effect on you. He believed that you were the key he needed for his grand scheme. So he kidnapped you, and was waiting for the right time for his final ritual.

Sadon wasn’t wrong. Your blood was desired by the demons, as it could grant them power. The ritual was successful, just wasn’t as expected by Sadon. You made a deal with the demons, giving them your memory in exchange of immense power.

You woke up and found yourself standing, around you were Sadon and all the children who met a horrible death. Helvi’tar and Eyle opened the door to the basement of death, found you in complete confusion.

Then Eyle knocked you out.

#the witcher #gerlat of rivia #geralt x reader #geralt x y/n #geralt x you

45 notes · View notes

blue-and-dog · 4 years ago

Text

The Beast in the Mountains (A Sengoku Basara One-Shot)

Note: This story is centered around my fanon that, post-Sekigahara, Mitsunari and his family fled into the mountains to live in hiding for several years before his death. A wife is mentioned, but for the sake of this story I keep her ambiguous so you readers who have an OC shipped with him can just slap her in there. :D Shiranui’s profile is here.

TW: BLOOD, ANIMAL ATTACK

[[MORE]]

“That’s a good size fire; try and keep it like that for now.”

The group of men sat around the small fire; four dirty, tired, ragged men on the run from proper society, obscured by the darkness of the mountain’s dense forest, barely illuminated by the small fire. Sadanobu continued.

“Any brighter and we risk attracting animals. I’m already worried about smoke flowin’ through the treetops.”

“With how thick these trees are?” Gaku chuckled, “I’m surprised the moonlight even gets through here. We’ll be fine. We just gotta make sure to put it out before we call it a night.”

“You sure no one’ll find us up here?” Naofumi asked, as usual fidgeting with his hands out of anxiety.

“Relax, I did some scoping out of the town not far from these mountains,” Matazaemon shook his head, “They’re superstitious folk. Somethin’ about an old legend saying there’s a guardian spirit that lives on this mountain. People who go too high up the mountain end up in its territory and meet a horrible fate or some shit like that. That’s why I wanted to set up the camp so high up.”

“Besides, we’re not staying long...” Sadanobu pulled out the thick sack from behind him, “We gotta get to my guy in Kyoto and pawn all this off.”

Another successful heist for the unlikely group of criminals; two army deserters, a farmer and a gambler, able to pool their strengths and successfully rob their way across the East. Traveling nobles, temples, inns—nothing was safe. The country was a mess—they were just taking the opportunity to help themselves.

“That last temple was hidin’ some good loot!” Gaku said excitedly, “I still can’t believe how lucky we got! Lemme see again!”

Sadanobu rolled his eyes, but smiled and passed the bag to Gaku, who excitedly opened it, tilting it toward the light of the fire to see the inside; the head of the gold Buddha glittered back at him. “We got enough goodies in here to eat like kings for weeks!”

“Man, I haven’t eaten a decent meal since the Toyotomi...” Sadanobu sighed and leaned back. “It’ll be nice...”

“Hey, yeah, you were a Toyotomi guy!” Matazaemon laughed, “I was Oda! I know your pain.”

“You’re kidding! You don’t strike me as an Oda guy.”

“And you don’t strike me as a Toyotomi!” he cackled back, as the two howled in laugher. Gaku and Naofumi chuckled along.

“You know, you two never talked about your army days,” Naofumi pointed out, “We got time—why not start now?”

“It’s really nothin’ much,” Matazaemon shook his head, digging through another bag to grab a rice ball and start distributing them amongst the group, “I joined up so my old man didn’t have to, wound up havin’ to do a lot of killing and burning and pillaging that I really never wanted to do. Watched all the major generals shining above everyone else, while the foot soldiers were trampled beneath them. Date, Takeda, Uesugi...they were the kind of guys that really made war seem like a fun time.”

“I know what you mean,” Gaku replied, “They made it look like something we should aspire to. I almost joined up with Date myself, but...when folks from the Date came around enlisting able-bodied men, I took off so my mom wouldn’t have to see her only son die for the sake of some egotist who just wanted more land for himself. I wonder how she’s doing...?”

“That’s the thing about these generals and daimyo,” Naofumi shrugged, “They shine brighter by standing on the backs of their soldiers.”

“Oda was a complete monster, though,” Matazaemon grumbled. “All of his inner circle were. Moment I got news Akechi killed him, I took the opportunity to turn tail while everyone was scrambling around. Never looked back.”

“Similar to my story,” Sadanobu nodded, “Hideyoshi was a creep...even standing near him put me on edge. And his supporters weren’t any better.” He leaned forward, looking down into the fire. “I remember one day, when I was training...apparently his general, Ishida, didn’t think I was making enough progress. By some mercy, he kept his sword sheathed, but he beat me with the sheathed weapon in some twisted attempt to strengthen me. All it did was strengthen my resolve to get the hell out of there soon as I could. Glad he’s dead.”

“Is he, though?” Naofumi raised an eyebrow. “I thought it wasn’t confirmed.”

“He and his family were in Osaka castle when some folks raided it after he lost Sekigahara. The whole place went up in flames; there’s no way an impulsive guy like that had any escape plan to get out of there undetected. There were so many burnt corpses in the castle afterward once the fire was under control; he had to be among them. He wouldn’t have run. He never ran.”

Naofumi closed his eyes in thought. “Maybe. There’s always a chance.”

“Don’t even start. I don’t wanna think about the possibility that that asshole’s still out there somewhere. And even if he is...he’d never willingly show his face again.”

The wind seemed to whisper above them. And a rumbling came from the woods around them.

“What was that?” Naofumi looked up, now apprehensive.

“Probably just an animal attracted to the light,” Gaku reached toward the fire, grabbing a burning hunk of wood from it as he stood up. “Wave this around a little bit and they’ll be gone. I’ll do it.”

Gaku turned from the group, heading through the brush, waving the burning wood around to light his path. Big, dramatic steps and stomps to intimidate whatever was near, his companions watching from afar.

Then, his head perked up, as if he spotted something. But before he could speak a word, he let out a choked-off cry, the flame dropping and going out.

“Gaku!” Matazaemon cried out as the group stood up, on high alert. Then, the loud thumps of quick but heavy footsteps, and a vicious bark and snarl, as a large, white blur lunged forward, biting Matazaemon by the arm; the force knocked him to the ground as he felt the arm pop out of place. He howled a mix of pain and fear.

Naofumi stared in shock and horror at the large wolf now viciously yanking Matazaemon to and fro like a rag doll, blood soaking its teeth and maw. But Matazaemon’s screams finally snapped him to attention as he pulled out his knife, plunging it toward the beast’s side in a panic.

He missed the stab, but the blade did slice the wolf’s side, as it let go of his friend and instantly turned on him; its jaw snapped open, going for his throat, and as he fell back, he looked to Sadanobu for help.

But Sadanobu had fled. Even as the wolf snarled and tore into him, Naofumi could hear footsteps approaching, and hear something slice into Matazaemon, silencing his howls of agony.

Sadanobu blindly pushed his way through the brush, his face a mix of fear, of terror, of snot and spit, while he tried to process that he was alone now, on this mountain, at night.

The Beast of the Mountain was real! That was no ordinary wolf! That thing...that thing was a monster! So fast, so strong! He had to leave its territory.

He had to get down the mountain.

He tripped in his panic, falling and rolling a ways, before finally sliding to a stop, staring up at the break in the treetops to see the moon. He began to sit up, but froze.

Footsteps. Two feet.

He began to hyperventilate, wondering if the beast had changed form, to come after *him.*

But the moon began to make his pursuer visible. And he could see those thin, angry eyes glaring down at him.

Those thin, angry eyes from all those years ago.

And he began to wail.

“IT’S YOU—“  SPLURCH!

That one slice caused his insides to burst out of him, as he fell back, gurgling his final sounds, the world around him becoming black.

....

And Ishida Mitsunari flicked the blood off his old sword before sheathing it again. His intuition had been correct; the noise and dim light he saw from his home wasn’t just his imagination playing tricks on him; someone had the audacity, once again, to venture that high up the mountain. And they needed to be dealt with swiftly, before he risked them finding him.

Grabbing the body by the leg, he began to drag it back with him toward the campfire. As he did, he whistled a short whistle, as the snarls and barks from before were replaced by panting; he found the wolfdog standing by the other two bodies, his curled tail twitching in satisfaction. Dropping the first body’s leg, Mitsunari knelt down.

“Come here. Let me see.”

The dog padded forward, allowing Mitsunari to get a closer look. Removing his right glove (revealing a hand scarred from burns), he ran a hand along the wound in the dog’s side; the dog let out a small whimper, but didn’t panic.

“...it’ll scar, but it’s nothing serious,” he muttered, “We’ll treat it when we get back home. Good work, Shiranui.”

His children had named the dog when he brought the pup back to their home two years prior, having found the pup attempting to steal one of the pheasants he had hunted. Now fully grown, it was clear the dog took mostly wolf traits...but, at his core, Shiranui had always been a loyal dog...especially to his master.

Once certain the wound wasn’t serious, Mitsunari turned his attention to the bodies. Retrieving the last one from a ways away, he wasted no time rifling through their pockets and satchels for supplies. Medicine, food, tools...anything usable, he gathered into the largest bag. As he came across the sack containing their ill-gotten gains, he pondered the contents for a bit...before shaking his head. He had no need for any of this. Gold and the like wouldn’t keep them alive. Wouldn’t keep them safe.

One by one, he dragged each body a ways up to the cliffs, before rolling each body over the edge with one smooth motion, watching them get swallowed by the darkness below as he listened to the impact of them striking the cliff side, the stones, the tree branches....and lastly, he tossed the sack of treasures, too. Good fortune to whomever finds them, he supposed. It didn’t matter to him either way. Either way, the Beast of the Mountain had maintained its status as something to be feared.

Returning to the camp and snuffing out the fire, he let his eyes readjust to the darkness, before looking to Shiranui’s bloodied face.

“Let’s wash your face before we go back.” His wife hated when the dog came back from its hunts and meals looking like that.

After stopping by the stream to clean off the dog’s face and wash the wound a bit, they began their quiet trek back home, their loot in hand. Nearly three years of this life...and sometimes, it was still wildly unfamiliar to him.

He should have died at Sekigahara. He should have taken his life when he failed to avenge his lord.

He should have.

But he didn’t.

Now he was a spent match; the fire of battle had long left him, and now he was smoke, drifting about his new life, though sometimes, that little fire would come back. Sometimes, he would remember why he lived.

Off the beaten path, past the troublesome terrain, there stood a small house. His house. It was no Sawayama, it was no Osaka Castle, but it was home. And it was here that he quietly slid open the door, only to flinch slightly, startled by the shape of his wife’s feet in the moonlight shining through the door. In her arms, the smallest of his children, his only daughter, little Tatsuhime, fast asleep and undisturbed.

“...how close were they?” his wife asked in the softest of voices.

“Close enough to be a problem,” he replied. She could tell he was willfully omitting details. Details that would distress or upset her. He clearly didn’t want to elaborate further. Other than, “Shiranui’s hurt. I’ll stay with him tonight.”

She gave a quiet nod, quietly vanishing into the tiny hallway, as she, too, was swallowed by darkness.

Mitsunari retrieved a cloth, taking a seat against the wall and beckoning the dog over; Shiranui obeyed, laying down as Mitsunari pressed the cloth against the wound. The dog rested his head on his master’s lap, while Mitsunari rested his own head against the wall.

He could faintly hear the rustling of his wife setting Tatsuhime down to sleep; undoubtedly between her two older brothers. His wife was then rustling into bed as well.  He didn’t know when he’d sleep.

But until then, he’d remember why he lived.

#sengoku basara #ishida mitsunari #Mitsunari Ishida #fanfic #basara #Sb fanfic #blue writes #fan fiction #fanfiction #capcom

24 notes · View notes

tuttifuckinfruttifriday · 4 years ago

Text

Part 3, of Malon’s secret friend ‘s other part I did, normally by @randomly-a-fan ^^

Taken

Pairing: Jason Voorheese x Malon, Aquarius x Archie, MJ x Malon and ?? x Malon and Archie

Warnings: violence against children and adults, gore, kidnapping, small angst, fluff, censored curse words

This might not be so good since I haven’t got the motivation to write lately, so no Pennywise! D:

Don’t hesitate to tell me if I did some mistakes(probably did but, I’m lazy... heh)👉👈 It’s the longest thing I’ve ever written >:) hope it was worth the wait

(I loovvveee doing crossovers with other slashers)

—

Oh, god no. Jason felt so bad right now.

He said he was going to protect her... but he didn’t.

He couldn’t face MJ and tell her that her daughter is gone again, he couldn’t. So, he continued his search and tried even harder, following the big footprints on the forest ground, his pace faster than before.

Malon let out a small cry when she felt herself being thrown into the back of a vehicle, her head colliding with the hard ground with a whimper. She didn’t know if Archie was still with her, but she hoped.. Because if not, then she was screwed. She would probably never get back to her parents and—

“Mal?....” Hearing the boy whispering softly, a shaky sigh escaped her lips. “A-Archie.. I’m scared......” Trying to feel around with her hands behind her back, she felt his hand squeezing hers the best he could before he started working on her binds. “I won’t let them hurt you...” Even if she didn’t really believe him, after her father telling her almost the same thing and she’s here right now—

No. She couldn’t put it on her father. It was her choice to meet with Archie in secret, it’s her fault. Seeing the girl’s face in the small light, the boy frowned. “It’s not your fault... It’s nobody’s fault.” She still didn’t believe him, but right now she couldn’t do anything other than nod. To calm the atmosphere and appease her mind, the purple haired one nudged her with his foot, abandoning his mission of getting the binds undone since he couldn’t and getting her attention as small sniffles escaped her, the movements of the van not helping him see her. “Count with me, okay?... My mom told me that it helps when you’re scared.... it makes the monsters go away..” Seeing her nod again, he smiled softly at her and tried to tame his wildly beating heart, starting to count in a whisper as his friend did the same. They did that until they felt the vehicle stopping, stopping their counting between 270 and 300. The muffled voices of their kidnapers could be heard, but they couldn’t clearly hear what they were saying. When the noises stopped and they could hear the voices more clearly as the clanking of the doors opening could now be heard, they the furthest they could. It didn’t show, but they were scared out of their minds. But their fathers are serial killers, so they can’t be scarier. Thinking about her father made her cry, but Malon still couldn’t do anything about it until they got out of their ropes.

Aquarius was really scared for the first time in her life. She paced and walked around the sewers as she tried to tell herself that her child was fine, that’s he would come back any minute now and give her a big hug while apologizing for making her so scared. Deep down, a part of herself was telling her that it was a lie and that something bad had happened, but she didn’t want to believe it, not until she knew where her baby is. It was fortunate that her husband wasn’t here, or she’s sure he would have destroyed everything and living persons in his path. Trying not to think about it, the blue haired clown tried to occupy herself with cleaning.

“Get them the fck out—!” Glaring at them from his corner, Archie looked at the four males getting in the back, the one who’s clearly the leader on the ground and waiting for them to execute his order. As two neared him, he let them... only to snap his teeth around one’s throat. “AAH-!!!!GET THE LITTLE FREAK FCKER OFF ME—“ While the other one who was going toward her friend and one of the two that was going toward her went to help the guy, Malon kicked the only one that was left in the knee before she got knocked to the ground by the guy that was outside. “Get them inside.” With the simple order, the three that weren’t bleeding knocked Archie to the ground after punching him, ignoring the girl’s cries as she looked at the bloodied nose of her friend. They then took them like potato sacks on their shoulder before they walked toward a big house that looked like the ones the children saw in the movies and books their parents would show them, a mansion more precisely. It looked old and abandoned and had a gate, but what really made Malon curious was the lively garden, like someone really put their self in it.

Still moving in their hold, now having a piece of tape on her mouth, Malon almost gasped for air as they entered. It was evident that there wasn’t anybody inside with all the dusty furnitures and the clean carpet. “Search the place, if there’s anybody you kill them.” The men then searched the place like asked, finding a first aid kit and stopping the small bleeding from the neck of the on who got attacked. The kids smiled when they saw fear in his eyes as he looked toward Archie. That’s when they hears noises... coming from the walls? With a sigh, the leader groaned and walked toward the walls, banging on it a couple of times, the noise stopping. “Freakin’ rats....”

Only for gunshots and something breaking to be heard with two set of screams. Rushing forward and forgetting the two child behind him, he ran toward the man that went alone as the other two that went together were probably injured or dead. The one who’s hurt then appeared, sweat dripping down his face as he screamed something in another language to the boss, the latter putting his gun up as they hear clanking, the sound of something metal hitting the ground. They were in such a haste to enter that they didn’t even open the light, so the outside light lightening only a little a... porcelain mask...?

The figure wearing it is tall, thin but muscular, dark curls on their head/chin and the same on the part of their chest that isn’t hidden by his shirt. He was obviously a grown man. But what shocked everybody was the high pitched childish giggle that escaped his lips behind the mask as he jumped on the hurt one, smacking him hard in the head with a bloodied metal rod as he turned back and smacked another impaling him with it. The supposed leader, probably the only one alive, could only look at the tall man as he towered over him, 5 seconds away from beating him too with the metal stick. A shot was heard as the man groaned, his voice dropping in octaves as he dropped the rod, looking back to see one of his victim standing and holding their gun, looking like he’s bleeding to death. He collapsed as the masked man turn toward the leader and tossed his gun away, tackling him to the ground and punching him in the face, his nose making obscene noises as it shattered and probably broke into freakin’ pieces. Malon could only watch in terror as their masked saver killed him, his fist getting bloody and his knuckles splitting as blood seeped through his cardigan and tank top. Archie had finally got her binds off, almost done his, but it’s not like she could look away from the massacre. With macabre fascination, her green eyes were fixed on the stranger as he looked around at the bodies, another groan escaping him as he put a hand on his wound. He was going to go to the bathroom to take care of his wound, but he stopped in his steps as he saw the kids, tilting his head as the one with the clown face looked up at him with a serious face. The redhead behind him was looking at the man he just ended, her eyes wide open as he approached them with fascination.

It’s been a long time since he saw people, especially young people. So with a tilt of his head, almost forgetting that he’s gotten shot, he stopped before them. Why did the boy have a clown makeup?? And why was the little girl looking like she’s seen a ghost? With the curiosity of a child, he stopped and bent down, the boy frowning at his movement and looking up in fear. “Are you... are you hurt?” Malon snapped out of it as she heard his voice, strangely the voice of a child. When she saw that it was a question, she shook her head as Archie did the same. “Good.....” He then walked away, going to the bathroom as he put his hand on the wall, holding himself up.

—

After helping the man the best they could, learning that his name’s Brahms and this is his house, the two friends sat on the couch, telling Brahms things about themselves, the bodies completely forgotten as he took care of them. When Archie told him that he was the son of supernatural beings and that’s why he looks like a clown, Brahms was fascinated. Childish giggles left the man as the two laughed with him, feeling like everything was normal at this moment, like they were talking to a long lost friend. They liked him, and he liked them, so it was really nice being in his company. They told him about their lives getting a few comments but not getting his story in return. Archie understood, some people didn’t want to talk about their past. Malon was really curious, but she had the politeness to not ask, especially when he told them that he got into an ´accident’ when he was a kid and that’s why he wears a mask.

Jason was almost giving up when he saw the abandoned mansion before him, having followed the tire marks all the way there. If the person that took her was better at what they did, they would have put the car outside the forest. But no, they had to drag it all the way behind the shed and be stupid and make marks in the dirt with their freaking tires. Walking slowly and silently toward the building, deciding that he would check before going back, Jason opened the door and frowned at the faded blood on the ground, like someone had dragged something bloody on the ground.

When Brahms heard the front door opening, he panicked a little. He didn’t know what to do, he thought he got them all. So with a sign to be quiet, the tall man-child got up and walked toward the door, the only light being the lamp on the table beside the couch. The bigger man didn’t have time to react as Brahms jumped on him, knocking him to the ground as he tried to strangle him, but obviously failed as the undead man turned the roles around and pushed him to the ground. He was going to get his weapon from behind him until he heard the voice of the person he was here for. “Daddy!!-” Her small body jumped on him as happy tears streamed down her face. He couldn’t believe it, having finally found her. He couldn’t be more happy than right now, hugging his daughter tightly as he buried his masked face in her hair. Behind him, Brahms was going to intervene until Archie put his small hand on his arm, a sad smile on his face as he shook his head. Seeing him sad, the dark haired male gave him a small hug, feeling the boy returning it. After releasing from the hug, Jason looked at his daughter, then toward the boy that looked familiar and the masked stranger. “Brahms saved us daddy.... don’t hurt him.” Hearing the small whisper of his daughter and that he saved her, he nodded gratefully at Brahms, the latter returning it as he got up. Jason took Malon in his arms, hers wrapping around his neck as she started to drift into his neck. “Goodbye Brahmsy.... I��ll come visit you.” Hearing a chuckle, he saw the male nodding carefully, wrinkles showing at the side of eyes, showing that he was smiling. He would have said a lot more, being very sad to see them go, but he was intimidated by Jason. So he kept quiet and waved to the three, going sadly we will never know where. Malon wanted him to come with them, but he told her that he couldn’t. So she didn’t argue anymore, feeling that it was personal. “Can we... Can we get Archie back at his house......?”

He frowned, now remembering the boy before them. A glare came to his face as he thought about it, only to nod. He couldn’t say no, especially after seeing the cleaned cut on his nose, as if someone had punched it. He didn’t seemed to mind, which made the undead man curious. He knew he was the son of Pennywise, but he didn’t care right now. His mind was set on the thought that Malon was coming back home, and that he would never let her out of his sight. Now, he had the mission to get the kids back to their homes, and he would do it without any complain. Archie didn’t harm his daughter, and they seemed very close, so the people who are friends with his daughter are his friends too.

—

“Archie—!!” Aquarius tan toward him, feeling him jump on her and wrap his arms around her the best he could. He was so happy to be back, and his mother was too. They both cried as they hugged and sat on the ground, saying nice things and telling each other about what happened today, Archie being the first one evidently.

#jason voorheese #pennywise #randomly a fan #brahmsy #brahms heelshire

9 notes · View notes

anjuschiffer · 5 years ago

Text

A Parent’s Misadventures

So... someone asked and they got a sequel (of some sorts) to Dada?

Enjoy :D

-----

AO3

-----

Being a parent had its woes, but if you asked Jason and Marinette, watching their daughter grow up was rewarding, many firsts being the everlasting, heartwarming moments for them.

Her first steps brought tears to their eyes.

Jason was cleaning his bloody gear in the living room, Bridgette playing with her toys when she eyed something even better than the bean-filled water bottle- a knife.

However, the knife was on the coffee table, higher than what Bridgette can reach… unless she stood up.

So after six attempts on trying to balance herself, Bridgette stood firmly, noting her father was gawking at her, his mouth opening and closing before he scrambled to grab his phone.

Hoping it would work, Bridgette placed one foot in front of her, hearing gasps as she almost fell back, but quickly balanced herself.

It wasn’t hard. She can do this. Taking several steps towards the coffee table, she heard her parents scream and cry as she finally made it to the table, grinning as she got hold of the knife and turned to her parents for appraisal.

Her parents quickly praised, squishing her cheeks Bridgette noticing their faces pale considerably.

They ripped the knife away from her hand, Bridgette wondering why they took it away from her and proceeded to cry.

——-

Her first friend, a boy named Evan Johnson

The Johnsons had finished moving in next door, Marinette jumping up and down, excited to finally have a neighbor after the apartment next door being vacant for a whole two years.

She quickly prepared a quiche, blabbering to Jason how it was a family secret, giggling when she told Jason he couldn’t have some and watched as he and their daughter pouted in unison.

Of course, that pout turned into a frown when Marinette dragged him to help welcome their neighbors, a nice couple from New York.

Maya and Kyle had recently obtained a new scoop at Gotham, having to move Gotham to get it.

However, seeing as the two couldn’t find a sitter nor relatives who can watch over Evan, they brought him along, worried to death about his safety.

“Don’t worry about a thing.” Marinette stated, cutting up the quiche. “You’re in the luckiest place in Gotham. No crimes here in two years.”

“Because you made sure- hey!” Jason yelped when Mari slapped his hand as he reached for a piece.

“The Johnson’s first.” Mari growled, something in the corner of her eye catching her attention. “Is Evan still learning to walk?”

“Yes! Even though he knows how to balance himself perfectly-“ Kyle started

“He still hasn’t quite got the confidence to walk on his own.” Maya ended.

“Well,” Mari pointed towards the kitchen doorway, the four adults turning to see Bridgette guiding Evan, holding his hand.

Mari stifled a snort when she saw Jason narrow his eyes and grumble something under his breath.

“His first steps!” Maya and Kyle rejoiced, Mari smiling as she watched them fish for their cameras, praising their little tyke.

“Look at these-“

“I bet we were like that when Bridgette learned to walk.” Mari said softly, relaxing into Jason’s arm. Resting his head against Mari’s, Jason sighed.

“I bet we were… with the exception of panicking because she had a knife in her hand.”

“Well she only got it because someone thought cleaning blood covered equipment at the coffee table was a good idea.”

“Listen, there was a table. All my equipment needed cleaning. You were cooking at the kitchen table. Where else did you expect me to clean?”

Mari raised a brow. Jason gulped.

“You could’ve cleaned them outside.”

“And risk getting caught?”

“Since when did you care about that?” Jason opened and closed his mouth to fight back, but nothing came out. “I thought so.”

———

Her first pet -courtesy of Uncle Damian- a Doberman Bridgette had named Bunny.

Bunny was an energetic one year old girl, but three-year old Bridgette didn’t care

“Bridgette honey, Bunny isn’t a horse.”

“But I fit.” Bridgette reasoned, laying on top of Bunny, who simply let the child be. The tiny human was a walking heat pack after all.

“Damian, thank you for the gift.” Jason said, ruffling Damian’s hair. He wondered if he should ask Damian about any dog trainers to train Bunny into becoming a guard dog.

“Bridgette said she wanted a dog, so of course I complied with her wish.” Damian said, smiling as his niece decided to close her eyes for a quick nap.

“Damian, you’re spoiling her.”

“Mari has a point.” Jason grinned, Mari narrowing her eyes even more. “Does the animal shelter you fund have any rottweilers or pitbulls up for adoption?”

“Let me check.”

“DAMIAN. YOU BETTER NOT-”

“We do and they’re currently on their way.” Damian said with a smirk, a smirk that easily rivaled Jason’s own.

“Mon Dieu.” Mari cried, dragging her hands down her face.

------

But one of the things Marinette and Jason both wanted and yet didn’t want was that dreadful first phone call from school.

Marinette was in the middle of a consultation, already wrapping it up with her client when her two phones started to ring simultaneously.

Apologizing and quickly shoo-ing the client away, Mari picked both phones up, having her personal phone on speaker while she held the other one close to her ear. As soon as she heard Jason speaking on her private phone, she quickly told him to be silent for a while when her business phone started to speak.

“Is this Miss Todd’s number?”

“Speaking.”

“I apologize for disrupting your busy schedule-”

“Don’t worry about that.”

“Thank you, but I still do apologize for your first phone call from your daughter’s school to be about… this.”

Now worried, Marinette quickly starts packing her things, muttering a few words to Jason before making handwritten notes for her secretary, giving it to her as she left.

“Did something happen to Bridgette? Mon Dieu! Is she okay?”

“She is, but the other child isn’t.” A scream was heard in the background, causing Marinette to quicken her walk towards the elevator. “Can you please come to the school as soon as you can?”

“Of course! I’ll be there in 15 minutes!”

-----

Jason howled with laughter, Marinette flushed with embarrassment, slapping Jason’s arm in hopes of calming him down, but it had the opposite effect. His howls grew louder.

“I-I see… so that’s what happened.” Marinette said quietly, wondering where they went wrong… or rather right...

“We know that it was an accident and apologies were exchanged, but we want to prevent this from happening again in the future.”

“Of course, Madam Daichi.” Marinette got up and bowed, gesturing Jason to do the same. “We’ll talk with Bridgette to prevent this from happening again.”

With that, the two parents left the principal’s office, picking up Bridgette from her classroom along the way.

“We’re going to have a long talk Catherine.”

-----

“So Bridgette, did you really punch Olwin square on his jaw?” Jason asked sternly, Bridgette fidgeting under her father’s gaze.

The trip home was quiet, Bridgette possibly able to hear one of her mother’s sewing needles if they dared drop inside the car. Not a single word was uttered as they made their way to her room.

“I didn’t mean to, but he didn’t want to lend Petunia the paint brush and he even pushed her. So I punched him.” Bridgette pursed her lips, retraining herself from crying, baring the stinging of her eyes. “I’m going to be grounded, aren’t I?”

Jason’s attitude quickly flipped, picking up his daughter, spinning her around, laughing as he did. Bridgette was left dumbfounded at her father’s behavior. Didn’t she do something wrong?

“That’s my girl!” Jason praised, putting Bridgette down, ruffling her hair. “Your form was great! Really proud of you!”

“Jason!” Marinette cried out, standing next to him with her arms crossed. Jason sheepishly smiled, yelping when Mari pinched his arm. “You weren’t suppose to talk about her stance. Yes it was perfect but we didn’t teach her to punch properly if she was going to punch a classmate.”

“But Maman! Olwin-”

“Bridgette. Catherine. Todd.” Marinette sternly said, enunciating each name. “Yes, he did something wrong, but that was not the way to handle it.”

“So what did you want me to do?”

“Speak up.” Mari said softly, wrapping her arms around her girl, feeling Bridgette do the same. “You could’ve gotten a teacher to help you mon chou. That’s what they are there for. To help.”

“What if that didn’t work.”

“That’s when you take it upon yourself to act.” Marinette said, gently pushing Bridgette away from her, noticing tears stream down her cheeks.” Promise me you’ll talk with a teacher first before you decide to punch another child again.”

“I promise.”

-----

Oh how Marinette wished to have made Bridgette also promise to not talk about her side job as well as Jason’s.

“-so it caused us a great amount of concern when we saw her drawing.”

“I understand.” Marinette said, looking at the picture in her hands. Oh how she wanted to curl up and stay hidden forever.

There on the white sheet of paper was Jason and Marinetter, or should she say RED HOOD and LADYBIRD!

Oh mon Dieu!

“So why exactly did Bridgette say-”

“My husband and I helped out a close friend of ours with a short film in regards to the two vigilantes of Gotham.” Marinette said in one breath, giving the principal a smile. “I think you’ve heard of him, Nino Lahiffe?”

“That’s right!” The principal said, clapping her hands together. “He did mention making a film with Red Hood and Ladybird as his next project!”

“That’s right!” Marinette said through her teeth, glad that Lady Luck hadn’t left her side. “He needed to someone to do a quick visual for his project and seeing as he needed help, we offered him our help, so-”

------

After giving Bridgette an earful as to why she couldn’t talk about their jobs as vigilantes to her friends, Marinette and Jason had to leave to go to ‘work.’

Tying up the criminal with zip-ties, Ladybird let out a sigh.

“What’s wrong this time mon lutin?” Red Hood asked, throwing the other criminal over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Do you think I went too far on Bridgette?”

“Of course not.” Red Hood said, noticing that his words had no effect on her. “Okay, maybe a little.”

“But she can’t speak about this.” Ladybird motioned to her getup, to her black leather jacket and all black spandex suit. Five red dots laid on her chest. The mark of the ladybug Jason called them. “We can’t make her a target for the criminals of Gotham.”

“I know sweetheart.” Red Hood said softly, nudging his helmet against her forehead. “But Bridgette doesn’t need to be sheltered and protected like some fragile jewel. She’s strong. She can protect herself. She has us, the rest of my family, ready to have her back if anything were to happen to her.”

Ladybird let out a sigh, a small smile gracing her lips.

“You’re right. We’ll always protect her.”

“Always.” Red Hood repeated, hauling the criminal Ladybird had tied up onto his other shoulder. “Though, you have to admit, Cathy talking about us as her heroes was kinda cool.”

“You mean adorable.” Ladybird corrected, smiling at the thought. He was right. Bridgette thought they were heroes. She loved them. They were her heroes

“Now come on. We have a tiny robin awaiting us back at the nest.”

With a nod, the duo disappeared into the night, not being able to bare another second away from their robin.

What happened earlier that day...

Bridgette watched a shadow loom over her, already knowing who it was. With a grin she looked up at her teacher.

“What did you draw Bridgette?”

“My family!” Bridgette said with a smile, the teacher giving her a nervous laugh. Why was one of her ‘parents’ drawn with what appeared to be guns at each of their sides? And why did the other figure have a person under their foot?

“I-Is that so?”

“Yeah!” Bridgette smiled even more as she intensified the red on her father’s drawing, but shortly stopped. Was there something wrong with the picture of her parents?

Sure, they don’t look the same, but they were still the same people, with or without the masks.

They kept her safe, they kept others safe.

They protected everyone in Gotham…what was wrong with that?

“Who are they supposed to be?” Olwin scoffed, looking at her drawing with disgust. Standing up in annoyance, Bridgette lifted her drawing into the air, catching the attention of her classmates.

“This is the drawing of my parents! They’re my heroes! I love them a lot!” She smiled when her classmates ‘ooed’ and ‘awed’ at her drawing. “After tucking me into bed, they become your heroes too!”

“W-what do you mean by that sweetie?” The teacher asked, only to be ignored by the tiny girl.

“Do they fight bad guys?”

“You bet they do! They go pow!” Brigette said, punching into the air, making Olwin flinch. “And bam! The bad guys never cross them twice! Maman and Papa are too strong to be taken down!”

Her classmates cheered and made a racket with their toys, the teacher attempting to calm them down, but to no avail.

“Do they have cool powers?”

“No, but Maman uses her very,very, heavy -hundred times heavy- yo-yo and knocks their fu- frogging lights off.” Bridgette exclaims, quickly remembering what happened when her mom caught her saying something her dad usually says. “Papa has these really, really quiet guns that when he goes pew, pew, it’s really hard to hear them. But that makes the bad guys super scared of him and they shi- slip on their own pee-pee and run away!”

Oh god. She almost cursed again. She will not suffer through that punishment ever again. Ever.

The teacher began to panic when a cult started to form in her classroom, the children cheering as Bridgette continued to answer questions, the teacher finally deciding to call for backup.

Oh how Bridgette wished she kept quiet about her parent’s hero jobs.

Little did she know she knew she was going to get an earful from her mother that evening and have to clean her neighbor’s apartment as punishment.

And no, she wasn’t referring to Evan’s house. She was talking about Mr. Perri’s apartment…

Mr.Perri… the many with two rooms filled to the brim with insects from all around the world…

Insects that terrified the shit out of her…

Oh how Bridgette wished she didn’t let Olwin get under her skin… if only she kept that secret to herself.

P.Taglist: @theatreandcomicfreak

#maribat #jasonette #anju writes #marinette needs to teach bridgette to keep secrets

97 notes · View notes

alottanothing · 5 years ago

Text

Left to Ruin Chapter Seven

Summary: Nouke and her family struggle with life in exile. When her mother show’s signs of falling ill, Nouke tries to find away to save her.

Previous Chapters

Word Count: 4087

Warnings: None

Tag List: @xmxisxforxmaybe, @r-ahh-mi, @theultraviolencefan, @hah0106, @rami-malek-trash, @diasimar, @sherlollydramoine, @flipper-kisses, @ivy-miranda-2390, @txmel, @sunkissedmikky, @concentratedsassandcandy, @babyalienfairy, @edteche2 (Let me know if I missed you, or if you would like to be added to the tag list)

A/N: Alrighty, so timeline wise, by the end of this one we are caught up to where Ahk was the last we saw him in chapter 5 (about a week or two after he’s sent all of his potential brides away)–hopefully that’s not confusing. And as always thank you for your comments, likes and reblogs of last chapter! Also, a couple of you have messaged me about the moodboards and you have no idea how happy those messages made me. I’m so glad you’re enjoying the story, and the totally self-indulgent moodboards. I welcome messages like that! 🥰 You guys rock! Once again as a disclaimer, I am not an ancient Egyptian expert and google only knows so much. So yeah, I took so historical liberties while writing this to make my life easier, but tried to keep it as “authentic” as possible

Years spent among the common people—hours spent cultivating land—was no better, nor was it worse than Nouke thought it would be. There was no extravagance; every day was the same as the last, and the labor was the hardest she ever recalled doing. Each night her body ached, her skin grew rough with callouses and darker from the unyielding sun. And despite it, Nouke felt there was a sense of dignity to all that her family did on their farm. Every effort made was to better themselves versus a lifetime of work to better someone else. Mornings were early and the work was hard, but it could have been worse.

She still had her mother and her father—her life—despite the toil they all had suffered. All things considered, everything lost or gained; it was her family that mattered the most to her, and she still had them.

Nouke thrived on that routine and for five years life was truly blissful.

The workday was drawing to a close, Nouke could tell by the dull ache beginning to settle in her feet and back. It had been abnormally hot, and her skin was sticky from hours of sweat creating a protective film over her flesh. She wanted nothing more than to wash up for the evening and rest.

She and the two stable boys were finishing up with the livestock in the lower part of their dwelling when a cry came from out in the field. Immediately, Nouke dropped her sack of feed and ran to investigate, finding her father doubled over and clutching his abdomen in pain. Nouke gasped and ran to his side.

“Father!” Concern rapidly contorted her face as she knelt beside him, cradling his head as he writhed, the shock forcing her into a momentary state of paralysis. “What’s wrong?”

The strain on his face was evidence enough for her to know he was in pain. She watched helplessly as Ramentukah opened his mouth to speak, only for strangled grunts to form in place of his words.

Worry settled deeper, and suddenly her own aches were forgotten. Nouke called for the farmhands to help her father up the stairs and inside. They were quick and strong, easily positioning themselves to support her father's weight.

“Thank you,” her father choked out, doing his best to walk with them.

Nouke helped guide them as best she could, scaling the staircase backward skillfully, shouting for her mother.

“I’m fine, Nouke,” Ramentukah assured her with a weak smile.

She could still see the pain in his features, and it made her own concern even more apparent.

“What happened?” her mother spoke, her expression a mirrored image of her daughters concern.

“He fell over. He’s in pain mother,” Nouke told her.

Maketatan rushed to help guide her husband into the room where the three of them slept on separate mats, gently laying Ramentukah on his. She never strayed from his side, lulling him and brushing the rough strands of hair from his face with one hand as she held his in her other.

Nouke dismissed the boys back to their chores and thanked them for helping. She lingered in the doorway for a moment, feeling somewhat helpless as she watched her mother fuss over her father. She could feel the onslaught of tears beginning to brew behind her eyes, but she held them back, taking a moment to steady her composure.

“We need to get him to a healer,” she said softly, stepping into the room.

Maketaten nodded, but frowned, “We don’t have money for a healer.”

“What about the money we’ve put away?”

“Not enough.”

Nouke’s frown fell deeper as she searched her mind for a way to help her father.

“Some of the crop will be ready for the market come the week's end,” she stated. “Perhaps that will bring in enough to add to what’s been putting away?”

On a good day, they made a significant sum at the market—which alone could help buy her father the care he obviously required. But that was only if they could sell every bushel for the price they asked. Most people liked to barter lower.

After a moment of thought, her mother nodded.

“It could be enough,” she said, still sounding unsure.

Maketaten’s focus fell from her daughter to her husband as she dabbed at the droplets of sweat dotting his forehead with a piece of clean linen. Even through his pain, Ramentukah held his wife in his gaze, as though she were the only person in the world—a creature of astounding beauty. And her mother looked at him much the same.

Nouke watched them quietly, the love and admiration radiating from them filling the small space with warmth as well as a sadness that made her heart heavy.

“Hold on, my love,” Maketaten murmured, kissing the back of her husband’s hand. “You mustn’t leave me yet. I will not let the gods take you.”

A soft, strained chuckle rasped past Ramentukah’s lips as he smiled up at his wife, bringing her hand closer so he could lay a kiss to it.

“I could never, truly, leave you,” he rasped.

Tears welled in Nouke's eyes, overcome with the radiance of their love, suddenly feeling as though she was imposing. She left her parents in search of distraction, letting them have that moment to themselves. Her feet carried her back outside and down into the stable, though she could hardly recall the journey. There was so much to be done still, yet the knots in her stomach kept her mind from focusing on much else. Mechanically, she picked up the sack of feed she’d abandoned and willed herself not to think about whatever malady had stricken her father.

Three days—She reminded herself as she worked. Three days of heavy routine, a trip to the market and back. Three days and she could get her father the help he needed. Just three.

It was the longest three days of Nouke’s life; every moment spent hanging by a thread. Never had she worked so hard towards a goal that never came to pass.

At dawn on the third day, before she’d woken to ready the cart to take to market, Nouke was pulled from her sleep by the sounds of her mothers crying. An emptiness fought to consume her when she heard those sobs; she knew what they meant. Her father passed in his sleep, holding his wife’s hand.

Nouke laid frozen with grief, shedding silent tears until bottling up the raging emotion to be expressed later. She needed to be strong; her mother’s grief would be worse than her own. Maketaten's love for her husband had the potential to destroy her upon his death—Nouke couldn’t let that happen. Such a notion made Nouke wonder if loving someone so deeply was worth the inevitable heartache—would she ever know? She hoped so. Her mother and father were so happy together.

Maketaten refused to let go of her husband's hand for hours despite all of her daughter's gentle coaxing. Her mother’s devastation was even worse than she would have imagined.

“Okay…” Nouke conceded easily, kissing her mother on the temple before she stood.

A sharp pang of woe stabbed into her as she took in the picture of her mother and father. The sight made her heart break even more, and she wasn’t sure if it was due to the loss her mother was feeling or her own. Nevertheless, tears started to breach the cold façade she’d built to guard her mother as she realized the money they’d saved would now be needed to cover a modest burial, and Nouke would have to see to it all. Her mother was not strong enough with grief crippling her to organize such formalities.

On the day Ramentukah was laid to rest, Nouke was certain she had never seen someone more inconsolable then her mother. The priest did little more than utter one or two blessings; her father’s coffin was a simple wooden box that she herself painted with blessings to see him into the afterlife. The farmhands dug the plot themselves, and they helped to lay her father in the ground where his body would remain for the rest of time.

It was simple and somber, and not nearly enough for a great man like her father. However, Nouke also knew that Ramentukah would be happy to rest on the farm he had built for them—with his family forever until they joined him in death. And that notion was enough.

In a matter of days, the routine Nouke had come to master significantly shifted. With their money all but spent, they had to dismiss the farmhands in their employ, unable to provide for them as well as herself and her mother. Nouke could only devote so much time to the land to make a truly lucrative harvest; her mother needed her care. And while her mother did her best to assist in the field with chores, it was simply too much for her to keep up with.

Maketaten’s spirit was amiss, and Nouke could not bring herself to lay blame upon her. She had to be strong for her mother. Not once in those initial months following her father’s death did Nouke ever let on how much her bottled-up stress and grief was ripping away at her from the inside—screaming to be set free. Nouke knew if she let her mother see her break, Maketaten would slip back into the void she was trying desperately to climb out of. She refused to be the reason her mother suffered any more pain.

Her only release came when the sky was as black as the emptiness her father’s death had left, and after her mother was sleeping. Nightfall was when Nouke could sneak away to the rooftop of their home and nestle herself among the makeshift bedding, clutching cushions to her chest as she let her emotions spill until her eyes were bloodshot and every last nerve in her body was frayed.

It took years before life started to resemble a fraction of what they’d once had. Time, Nouke feared, would never truly heal the pain her mother endured, but as the seasons passed, Maketaten’s grief let go of more of her.

The farm survived too, be it out of Nouke’s own stubbornness to not let it fail after the work her father had put into it, or simply the fear of what would become of she and her mother if they lost anymore. It was a strenuous undertaking for only the two of them, but Nouke knew there were few choices.

“Maybe it’s time I marry…” Nouke thought aloud as she and her mother were finishing up their work in the stable.

Her own face twisted, the taste of her words sour. The notion was not a sudden revelation; it was something Nouke had sacrificed many nights of sleep to mull over. Marriage offered stability as well as another hand to help: more crops meant more income. It seemed such an easy and logical solution to their struggles, but it remained the most daunting.

There’d been a few men who’d taken a fancy to her and come calling. Both were farmers—able men who would take easily to the work the farm required. But they lacked something that Nouke could never place each time she was with them; they had no spark, and she doubted she could live happily with someone like that.

Maketaten cast her daughter a look of disbelief, mouth popping open, as though she wanted to rebuttal but couldn’t find the words.

Nouke ignored her mother’s shock and continued her reasoning, unsure if it was for her mother’s benefit or her own.

“We could use another hand, mother. And we can’t afford to pay anyone.”

A series of emotions drifted onto her mother’s face, each one turning her lips into a deeper, more shameful frown.

“I am sorry I am not more help, Nouke.”

“That’s not what—” Nouke sighed, immediately regretting having brought up the topic. “It’s not that you haven’t been a help—you have. We need stability. We are barely getting by.”

Maketaten sighed too, her expression one of sorrow.

“It was never your father and I’s wish to marry you off for the prospect of stability—stability is built, not bought.” Her expression softened, and Nouke could almost see her mother slipping into a fond memory before she spoke again.

“I, unlike so many others, was promised to no one. I met your father, and we fell in love. Only with love can one truly prosper.”

Nouke felt a tug on her heartstrings seeing the wistful expression take hold of her mother. It was so close to an air of happiness that she didn’t dare interrupt it. Instead, she watched the memories drifting in her mother’s eyes: memories of her husband, the love and light of her life.

She wanted that for herself, as greedy as perhaps it was. The devotion and adoration she’d witnessed all her life was something she craved to hold. However, the gods had a habit of destroying every dream she’d ever wanted for herself.

“Mother…” Nouke choked out softly, suddenly overwhelmed with a sadness she was unsure of.

There were tears shimmering in her mother’s eyes when she met them, tears, and resoluteness that Nouke had not seen in a long time.

“No, Nouke,” she said adamantly. “I will not see you live even more miserably. This world has already taken so much from you…”

Her mother’s words stilled her, and she knew then there would be no sense in arguing. Nouke responded with a sad smile; her words lost amidst the mess of thoughts in her head.

A silence fell between them as they tended to the rest of their chores. Nouke did her best to push her focus on her work, wanting it to consume her, afraid her thoughts would stray to the piles of things she’d fought for years to forget.

Night was falling when their work was done and Nouke followed her mother up the stairs, her mother’s steps growing more labored near the top until she began to fall. Nouke quickly braced and caught her, helping her mother stabilize on the stone railing.

“Are you alright?” Nouke asked, concern evident in her tone.

Maketaten chuckled lightly.

“Just a little dizzy from a day in the heat,” she reassured her daughter.

Nouke led her mother to a stool in the common area of their home, skeptical about her mother’s reasoning. An irritating twinge of panic began twisting familiar knots into her stomach as her mind filled with images of her father collapsed in the field.

“Does this happen…often?” Nouke asked, unable to mask the crack in her voice.

Her mother shrugged, “Only recently.”

Nouke’s panic settled deeper, knot's tightening.

“I’m not young anymore. I assure you; I am fine.” Maketaten’s voice was calm and exuded assurance, but Nouke didn’t miss the faint glimmer of fear in her eyes.

That restrained fear was enough to tie a knot in Nouke’s throat she tried to swallow before it drew tears to her eyes. She could gauge her own expression from the one her mother held, knowing that her own fear was rapidly taking shape on her features.

“Maybe…” Nouke said as softly as she could. “You should see a healer.”

Maketaten reached to caress her daughter's face, smiling gently.

“My sweet girl. You are full of worry…” she spoke, tracing the lines on her daughter's face, looking sad. “I will be fine.”

Nouke cupped her hand over her mother’s and held it to her face, relishing in the warmth her touch offered.

“I cannot lose you, mother.”

Maketaten placed a lingering kiss to Nouke’s forehead.

“I’m tired. It’s time I rest. Goodnight.” Her mother said, without more to say about her supposed sickness.

“Goodnight.”

Nouke watched her go, allowing her fear to settle in a room by herself. Her father was taken too suddenly for them to remedy whatever it was that ailed him. She would not let the same fate befall her mother. She didn’t know if she had the strength to lose everyone she loved.

During the week that followed, Nouke’s concern took root in her stomach a little deeper as every day slipped by balefully to remind her that time was working against her. And while her mother didn’t seem to be in any pain, the knots in her stomach wound tighter with the sense something was not right. Meals went uneaten and the labor it took her to do the simplest of the chores was evidence of her failing health.

Every passing moment felt more critical than the last, dread an ever-present cloud in her thoughts bringing with it the fear of waking to find her mother had passed in the night. The notion ate away at her night after night, keeping her from sleep before, finally, Nouke couldn’t waste another minute—she had to try something.

It was late afternoon when Nouke ventured into the market while her mother rested. The familiar thrum instilled her with a much-needed boost to keep her head focused on her task. She knew of two people who could help her if they were feeling kind: one took patients and both sold vials of curatives. The jingling of coins in the bag tied at her hip, and the sack of fresh harvestables slung over her shoulder, reminded her that she had little to offer for services—a few coins and the best bushels from their farm.

In her heart, she knew that wouldn’t be enough, but she kept walking with her chin up.

The market was busy for the lateness of the hour, the glow of lamps and torches lighting the shadowy streets. Nouke maneuvered through the hordes of people with practiced agility, making her way to the first stall, going over what she was to say silently in her head.

He was a younger man, older than herself, dressed fashionably in robes of finer linen indicating that he was skilled in his profession. The man was carefully packing up his stall, ready to turn in for the night when Nouke approached.

“May I ask you a few questions?” Her heart was beating in her throat.

The healer turned and glanced at her with a raised brow and a smug curl on his lips.

“You may,” he said, his beady eyes looking her up and down several times, before deciding that she was worth his time.

“My mother is sick—though she won’t admit it. Would you be willing to—”

The man held up his hand to silence her, looking disinterested.

“Payment,” he demanded holding out his hand.

Nouke swallowed and glanced at the small coin purse on her hip, and the sack of goods she’d brought. Before she even worked the satchel of harvestables from her shoulder, the man scoffed with a mirthless chortle.

“No,” he told her.

“Please?” Nouke reached for the purse of coins, spilling them into her palm. “This is all I have.”

“All you have is not enough,” he scoffed, turning to pack up the rest of his market stall.

Any other day, Nouke would have acted on his slight, letting him know the gods would not take kindly to his cruel heart, but she was exhausted from her ceaseless worry. Instead, she sighed a wrothful puff, accompanying it with a scowl she hoped conveyed the level of insult she felt.

The next man was much older and adorned like most of the other merchants: as common as she. When he welcomed her into his stall with a kind smile, Nouke found herself smiling back in relief.

“What can I help you with?” he asked in a warm voice that was a stark contrast to the last man she had spoken to.

“My mother is sick,”

“What signs of malady does she show?” he asked with genuine curiosity.

“Um, weakness, no appetite, fatigue—I don’t know of any pain.” Nouke swallowed, throwing another mournful look at the payment she had to offer. “I don’t have much in return for your services, but it’s all I have. Will you help me?”

The man looked at her with a sad, apologetic smile.

“I am no healer, child.” He confessed. “I sell ointments for skin, burned from long hours in the sun, honey’s that help heal cuts. I know not what ails your mother. I sincerely wish I could help you, but I cannot provide the remedies you seek.”

Nouke’s entire body wilted under the weight of defeat.

“Thank you,” she murmured, offering the man her coin purse as payment for his time. “Sorry to have troubled you.”

“No, no,” he declined waving his hands. “Save it to help your mother.”

Nouke gave the man a warm smile and thanked him again.

The walk back to her farm seemed longer somehow, made that way by the weight of defeat she carried with her. Maketaten was sleeping when Nouke returned, venturing into their shared room to be sure she had not suffered the same fate as her husband. A tiny wave of relief washed over her when she heard her mother's soft snores, and the sound coaxed the ghost of a smile to tint her features.

Nouke didn’t even try to go to sleep that night; the grace of deep, dreamless slumber was elusive. When she did find sleep her mind was plagued with memories that soured into nightmares. Most nights, though, she spent staring at the ceiling. The day had brought only more worry, which left her mind too preoccupied for the wish of restfulness. Nouke instead took refuge on the roof.

Tears brimmed her eyes the moment she nestled herself in her makeshift nest, feeling the full weight of fate upon her. She sat with her knees pulled to her chest, hugging them, feeling as though she was going to burst if she didn’t keep herself wound tight. For the first time in a long time, Nouke let herself drown in the sea of emotions she’d kept at bay longer than she wanted to admit. She cried until her head ached and throbbed with every beat of her breaking heart; until her tears ran dry leaving only soft whimpers. She knew sulking would get her nowhere but releasing all that pent-up turmoil cleared her head, and Nouke felt a sense of calm letting go of so much.

As the tears dried on her cheeks, the pulsing slowed enough to let her mind focus on a new plan to find a solution for her mother’s ailment. It would be months before most of the crops could be harvested to make any substantial profit, and as much as it pained her to think, Nouke knew her mother could not spare that kind of time.

She sighed, trying to fight off another wave of defeat from pulling her back under the water, the heel of her hands rubbing her swollen eyes. When her vision adjusted, her focus settled on the distant horizon, and a glint caught her eye: the pharaoh’s palace was shinning like a beacon in the distance.

“Ahk…” she whispered breathlessly, feeling her heart flutter at the sound of his name falling easily from her tongue.

All at once, her mind flooded with the memories she’d locked away to keep from missing him. His kindness filled every trace of those memories, feeding her waves of foolish hope. Ahk would have healers and priests waiting to serve him, but he was pharaoh. The title loomed like a dark cloud to cast a shadow over the sweet prince she remembered. Power had a funny way of spoiling kindness. If his crown had not tainted him, he would help her—she knew he would.

Even getting inside the palace wouldn’t be difficult if the garden wall still held the passageway she’d found in her youth. All that was stopping her was Kahmunrah’s warning. If he or his guard recognized her, that would be the end. The thought should have frightened her more than it did, but the threat of her own death didn’t seem so daunting if it meant she could save her mother.

As long as she could avoid Kahmunrah and find Ahk, there was hope something good could come from such a foolish decision.

Next Chapter-> Chapter Eight: The Boy From the Palace

#Ahkmenrah #Ahkmenrah x Original Character #Ahkmenrah Fanfiction #NATM #NATM Fanfiction #Left to Ruin #Rami Malek Character #Rami Malek Character Fanfiction #Rami Malek Fanfiction #Rami Malek

34 notes · View notes